My cup of coffee had cooled slightly. I couldn't bring myself to take another sip, my appetite vanished shortly after my meet and greet with James ended. I couldn't shake the nausea, or the tremble deep in my thighs. The rattle reminded me of the kind of cold you get where it sinks deep into your core, feeding your drive to find warmth. But there was no warmth for me, not even with the cooling coffee.

It had been an hour. James was nowhere to be found and frankly, I wanted to keep it that way. There was not a trace of eagerness to see him again. I sat in the lobby of the office building with my legs crossed, granted to hide any sense of fear I might have been showing. After I exited Dr. Reiner's room I was told to wait until they briefed James further on his conditions.

Until they tamed the beast.

While I waited my mind slipped into old memories that began to surface in the solitude. I stared intently into the paper cup that held the now chilled coffee, remembering everything Steve had done for me. Yet even with everything that I had told him about James, it went in one ear and out the other.

The memory of my parent's deaths came creeping in. It threatened to tear me down, but I quickly shoved it back into its corner. It disappeared under the rug where I kept it forcefully stashed away. Being alone in the lobby was detrimental, but it didn't last long.

"(Y/n), it's a pleasure to finally meet you in person."

I tore my eyes away from the coffee cup and snapped them to the man who stood above me. His jet black hair hung in loose curls, while his icy blue eyes smiled at mine.

"And who are you?" I asked.

"Roman Atwood. I've been assigned to wrap things up here for you and Mr. Barnes. His briefing just ended, so if you'll follow me, I can have you returned to the outside world."

A pit deep in my stomach grew. I didn't know how to handle the idea of venturing out into the world with James, cut loose from his therapy ties. Deep down I knew he had changed, but I was so used to clinging on a personal hatred for him that it fueled my stubbornness. I believed it was only natural for him to still have a ghost of The Winter Soldier dwelling in his bones.

I stood from the seat. The terrible coffee was still in my hand, so I placed it on the end table. It was the only sane thing that remained.

"I can understand your concerns about this, (y/n), but I can assure you that James is a changed man."

"People like him don't change."

"I think if you gave him a chance, you'd be surprised."

The statement circled around me like a predator. I hadn't… looked at it like that. I kept my mouth shut, taking what Roman said into consideration. Did he even deserve a chance?

Roman finally opened a door and allowed me to step through. James sat in a chair that sat along the opposite wall, eyes trained on the floor. His hands were clasped together in his lap, and he ran his right thumb over his left. He never lifted his gaze. I fought the urge to walk over to him, a newfound need to apologize nearly claiming me.

"I'm sure you're both aware that you need to return every scheduled date. We still need to know if Mr. Barmes can handle civilian life."

"I'm sure it's enough of a challenge for him already," I began, the quip already hot on my tongue. "He's used to cells and being cuffed to chairs."

My stomach was suddenly in my throat. His leather jacket grazed the skin of my upper arm, while he bent forward just enough to close some distance between us.

"That's cute," he started. I couldn't tell if I was scared, or slightly challenged. "You take one look at my file and you think you know me. You want to trust me with your life?" His gloved hands squeezed onto my shoulders. "Talk less." A fake smile played at his lips, but I kept my eyes trained on the receptionist's desk.

I felt him slide away.

Roman acted like this was normal behavior for James. He slid a clipboard off the desk and clicked the pen open. It scribbled across the paper until it slid off, ending his signature with elegance. He looked to James and I, and I could see he was slightly amused.

"Alright, you two are cleared to leave. Don't forget to exchange phone numbers, it'll be easier for you, (y/n), when you need him."

"I just want to leave and never see him again."

"I like that." James said, whose interest had suddenly peaked.

"Well, you're both free to leave."

I didn't waste any time. I turned and walked out of the room, soon to make my way to the exit. His image burned itself into my mind, and deep down I knew there would be no leaving him. James Buchanan Barnes was my guardian, now. Whether I liked it or not. I had to push that storm aside, and remove the child that sat in the driver's seat. It would have been wise to smarten up and at least apologize for my actions.

A heavy sigh fell past my lips. I halted just before the exit and turned back towards the hallway. There was a pulsing drive that pushed me to walk back to the room; an unyielding stare that fell upon him as soon as he emerged from the doorway. I didn't hesitate.

"Let me be very clear," I started, stepping up to him. "I don't like you, and you don't like me. I want to keep it that way. Whether I like it or not, you're the protection I asked for so I might as well accept that. But it doesn't, and it won't ever, change the way I see you. Now give me your number, and I'll only text you if I need you. Got it?"

I glared right into his dark eyes. They were hidden behind a shadow; all of his history surfacing for just a second. "Is that a promise?" It would take me a while to adjust to his broken tone.

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

As soon as his number was in my phone, I immediately turned to leave. The exit was so close… so painstakingly close and I was almost there. My hand reached for the handle, until his voice pulled me back in.

"It's in your eyes."

I turned my head to him. "What?"

His stance was powerful. It screamed at me, showing off the former Winter Soldier he used to be. I met his pinning stare. He looked down at the ground, breaking eye contact for a moment. A laugh came up in a breath, a defeated smirk curving the corners of his lips. When he looked back at me, there wasn't a trace of an ex-assassin anywhere. For a moment, I saw the broken James who hid underneath.

"Fear."

I was speechless. I couldn't grasp the fact that he'd recognized the terror in my eyes. I didn't take into consideration that he'd probably seen that look countless times, and he didn't have any access to his emotions. James was lucid, now. He was present. And it probably wounded him more than anything to see it up close, and feel that emotion that was locked away all those years.

I didn't have anything else to say. I pushed myself out of the building, leaving James to his thoughts. Part of me wanted to march back in there and work on building a relationship we would have to have sooner or later, but I kept walking.

The rest of the walk I thought about the defeat in his eyes. He looked exhausted, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt build up.