Amelia hid in her apartment for another two weeks. Over the course of a few days, the media had abandoned hounding her outside of her apartment. She had deliveries instead of venturing outside, too scared to face the pack waiting for her. It felt like sharks baying for blood. She would twitch the curtains open slightly and look down, seeing them slowly disappear one by one. She'd taken the phone off its hook so that no one could reach her through her intercom. She lived like a hermit, even when the press had left her alone.

She didn't dare go outside in case they were still loitering, hiding around corners. She knew how ridiculous that sounded. Amelia had just been a hot topic of news for a short while. The speculation about her online had been terrifying, however. There were people claiming that they knew her, wondering how a girl like her could become involving with a man like Helmut. People talked about her who she barely knew. People she worked with years ago. People she went to university with. They didn't know her, not truly. They just wanted their minutes of fame.

Scrolling through social media had been pointless. The comments about her on articles caused her nothing but pain. People who had never met her judged her for her involvement with Helmut. They judged her for what she had done. They judged her for wanting revenge. But she doubted they knew how it felt. She doubted they knew how it felt to have everything ripped from them and be so consumed by needing revenge.

And Amelia wanted to forget about it all. But staying in this apartment, she couldn't. Every room she went in there were ghosts. But it wasn't just the ghost of Lukas she had to contend with, but Helmut too. So Amelia did the only thing she could think of. She began looking on the new laptop Helmut had bought her and tried to find somewhere to move to.

…

"Did you believe her?"

Standing in the laboratory in Wakanda, Bucky was trying to calm his nerves. He was attempting not to let himself worry too much over what was about to happen. He hoped that it would be good for him. He longed for it to be just what he needed. If Princess Shuri could cure his mind then he would be free. As soon as Helmut had said those words, Bucky had felt himself lose control and he had done everything in his power to stop himself from becoming that man again. But he wasn't strong enough. That was what he told himself. He wasn't strong enough to fight it.

That was why he had to do this. He was too dangerous and he couldn't trust his own mind. Steve had checked with him a number of times if he wanted to go back under, reminiscing over what had happened in Siberia. It was then when he asked Bucky that question.

"Believe her?"

"Amelia Baker," Steve said her name. "Do you believe that she didn't know anything?"

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. He moved his hand to scratch his arm. His metal arm had gone, but in a way he felt free. He felt like he had some semblance of freedom and that he could get away from who he was.

"I don't know," Bucky confessed to Steve. "She was upset, I saw that much. And you heard what T'Challa said."

"I know, that's why I'm worried that she can't be trusted," Steve admitted, arms folded across his chest. The two of them looked out over the waterfall in front of them, both of them doing their best to come to terms with the events of the past few weeks. Bucky had done nothing but apologise to Steve. He blamed himself for getting him into this mess. But, in truth, only one man had dragged him into this.

"She was so upset about Zemo…and so consumed by revenge…I just don't know if we should be so naïve to think that she is some weak dame who isn't a threat," Steve confessed and Bucky chuckled at that. He shook his head and looked across to his friend, lips still arched.

"She's no weak dame," he promised Steve. "I saw that much."

"Well, from what I can see, she claims she had no idea what Zemo was doing…that she was upset and angry with him…but the fact is that she still wanted revenge on us just like he did. What if she tries something else?"

"I don't agree with anything that Zemo did," Bucky said to Steve. "You know that it was wrong and innocent people got hurt. She didn't agree with him either, but as for her wanting revenge…I…I can understand it to an extent," he admitted and Steve arched a brow as Bucky looked to him face on, turning around to stare him in the eye. "Think about it, Steve, she had her fiancé and parents taken from her while she was working in Paris. She lost everything…her past and her future…I think anyone would be filled with wanting revenge after that. But she didn't know that revenge wouldn't change anything."

Steve looked down at Bucky's explanation, seeming to understand what he was saying. And he had a point. He knew that he had a point because Steve often felt guilty over what he had done, despite wanting to do nothing but help. He knew people had died because of the Avengers. He knew that and he mourned for each one of them, but he couldn't sit by idly. He'd never been able to sit by idly.

"And I think she'll know that now," Bucky said to Steve. "Because now she's not only lost her family, but she's lost the man she also grew to love. She lost him to vengeance."

Steve shook his head slowly, understanding what he was hearing but unable to comprehend their actions. He would never be able to do that.

"Still," Steve said, "she knew everything about HYDRA. They both did."

"So you wonder if they could be connected to HYDRA?"

"I don't know."

Bucky shook his head. "I don't think they are. When I spoke to her, she just wanted revenge, nothing else. She didn't speak like HYDRA. Believe me, I know how they are and what they think. I don't think she's anything to do with HYDRA. I think she's just a lost woman and I get that."

"She's…well…she's many things if you believe everything you read on the internet."

"You know how to work the internet?"

"Too me a while, but I got there," Steve said and flashed Bucky a smile before pulling his phone out of his pocket. He typed on it and then held it in between both of them, their eyes peering onto the numerous news articles. Bucky's brows knitted together as he looked at what he was reading.

There were a number of articles with her name in the headlines. Images of her appeared of her trying to get to her apartment, fighting through a crowd and looking scared. There were claims that she always had been a good girl, an excellent student with a bright future. There were claims that she had been involved with the Baron while in Sokovia, the pair of them cheating behind their partner's backs. Speculation was published about whether or not she was pregnant with the Baron's child, claiming that someone had seen her at an airport and she was wearing bulky clothing. A video played of her fighting through the crowds, lights flashing behind her. She looked on the brink of tears, especially when a woman spat in her face.

"Alright," Bucky said with a tight voice, the sight of seeing her wipe away the spit making him feel uncomfortable. Steve clicked off the search and pocketed his phone once again.

"I just don't want anyone else to get hurt," Steve told Bucky.

"I get that, but I don't think you have to worry about her. She's no killer. Believe me, I would know."

Steve pursed his lips, but nodded. His friend seemed convinced and he had been the one who had met her, albeit briefly and not with much to report back. Bucky looked back outside, watching the pouring waterfall and wondering just if his paths would cross with her again if he was wrong about his assumptions. He only hoped that he wasn't.

…

Amelia was packing things away. The sale of her apartment had gone through and she had also sold Lukas's house in Paris. She was finished looking behind her and instead wanted to focus on what was going on instead. The press seemed to have left her alone and her name hadn't been in the news for over three months.

She pulled up the sleeves of the spotted jumpsuit she wore, the white polka dots splattered over the black material. She swept her hair over her shoulders and tied it into a ponytail. She had managed to sell most of her furniture and was leaving behind everything that she didn't want or need anymore.

Moving down the steps of the apartment block, she came to the bin store and tossed in a bag of rubbish. Her nose wrinkled at the smell in the room and she left it. She looked at her letterbox and opened it up, checking her mail. There was nothing important, just catalogues from stores she used to frequent and junk mail. She tossed it into the bin before moving to the elevator. She waited for it to come down, but she didn't step into it. Instead, James Peterson stepped out of it and she stood still in her tracks.

"Oh, hi neighbour," he greeted with a soft wave in her direction.

"Hey," Amelia responded with a soft smile. She hadn't seen him since the night he had introduced himself. "You alright?"

"Yeah, fine," James said. "You."

"Good, thanks," Amelia said and she stepped into the elevator, thinking that the conversation had finished. She pressed the button for her floor, but before the doors could close, James had grabbed them.

Looking over to him, she watched him for a moment as he seemed nervous around her. "Look, I know it's none of my business and you can tell me to get lost, but I wondered if you were alright? You know…I haven't seen you in a few weeks so I just wanted to make sure you were fine."

"I am," Amelia said to him. "And thanks for your help that day. It wasn't exactly a great time."

"I saw the news," James told her and shrugged.

He was dressed in gym gear. His leggings were tight on his tall, muscular legs and the shirt was long, clinging to him. His trainers were clean and looked brand new. Everything about him was perfect, not a hair out of place.

"Yeah," was all Amelia offered him.

"Not that I believe everything that I read in the news," James quickly told her, holding his hands up. "Because I imagine most of it is a load of crap."

"Well, most of it was," Amelia said.

"Yeah," he agreed, offering her a smile. "I mean, I can see you're not pregnant! Shit…unless you were…God…sorry…that was a stupid comment."

"No, no," Amelia quickly interrupted him, shaking her head. "It's fine. I wasn't pregnant. Like you said, it was all a load of crap, but I'm doing better now, thanks for asking. Anyway, you should get going. You off for a run?"

"The gym," he corrected her. "And you?"

"Back to my apartment," she said, pointing upwards. "I've got a lot of stuff to pack."

"Going on holiday?"

"Moving home," she said and his eyes widened in surprise. "I've found a place further down the coast and exchanged contracts on Monday. Now I'm just packing things up…figuring out what I'm going to do…you know, stuff like that."

"I'm sorry to hear that," James told her. "Well, if you're not moving far then maybe I'm not wasting my time if I ask…well…do you fancy a drink one night? Or a coffee?"

Amelia didn't know what to say to him on that point. How did she tell him that she had no interest in dating in the near future? She was focusing on herself. She was focusing on working out what she wanted from her own future. It didn't involve being with a man again anytime soon. She'd already had her fiancé snatched from her and the other man who she had loved was locked away in a cell. And the issue was that it wasn't in the past. She couldn't turn off what she felt for Helmut, no matter how much she wanted to.

James must have picked up on her expression as he began panicking. "Just as a friend, nothing else…I don't want to presume…even though you are…well…"

"Sorry," Amelia said to him. "I'm just not in the right place to think about anything else right now."

"I get that," he assured her. "And I don't want to make you uncomfortable so how about we go as just friends? I only moved here a few months ago and don't know anyone. Besides, I get the feeling that you could use a friend?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, you…God…I keep putting my foot in it, don't I?" he said and his cheeks tinged red and Amelia figured that maybe he had a point. She smiled to him and nodded her head.

"You're right though," she said. She had to look forwards. She knew that. She had to continue looking forwards and that meant not dwelling on the past or being worried. "A drink one night sounds great."

"Really? Excellent," James replied. "I'll call you then."

"You don't have my number," Amelia told him and he realised that was true. She held her hand out as he continued holding the elevator door open. "Pass me your phone."

He did as she had asked, unlocking it for her. His background was of him and two other men, medals around their neck. "So you are a runner?"

"I enjoy it," he told her. "That was when me and some friends completed the London Marathon a few years ago. I've never changed it…don't really bother with my phone, if I have to be honest."

Amelia pushed her number into the keypad and called it. Her phone was still upstairs in her apartment. She ended the call a second later so that her number was in his phone. Handing him it back, he locked it and shoved it back into his pocket.

"And now you do have my number," she told him and he continued smiling.

"Lucky me," he commented, no sarcasm in his voice.

Amelia chuckled, not responding to his comment. Instead, she pressed the button to her floor once more. "I'll see you later then."

"See you later," he agreed and let the elevator door go.

Walking back to her flat down the corridor once she was on her floor, Amelia unlocked the door and stepped inside. She checked her phone and saw that James had already text him. The smile remained on her face while she read the message and text him back, momentarily enjoying just being a girl texting a boy back.

…

Being locked up in a cell was worse than Helmut could have imagined. He was allowed fresh air only at certain times in a day and he was kept away from the other inmates. He was in total isolation, found to be a threat to others. He tried to occupy his mind as best as he could. He had books, a chess board and he even had a radio as well.

He was allowed visitors once a month, but so far no one had been to see him. He didn't know if Amelia knew she could come, but he hadn't written to her to tell her. He didn't need her to see him like this or for her to live her life with him still playing a part in it. He wondered what she was doing quite often. Was she still in Norfolk? Had she gone to Paris instead? Was she moving on? Was she doing alright? He didn't know and the radio made no mention of her either.

"Zemo."

Looking up from where he was sat on the edge of his bed, Helmut noted a guard outside of the five-inch pane of toughened glass that kept him locked away. His cell was quite dark too, the only light coming from dim lamps on the ceiling. There was no window. One of those would be too risky, it had been said.

"You have a visitor."

Zemo's brows pinched together at that piece of news. Had Amelia come to him? His heart rate increased and he even moved his hand to his hair, slicking it back on his head so that it looked neater than before. What was he doing? She wouldn't care what his hair looked like. And then the door buzzed open, a guard leading his visitor into the room. And it wasn't Amelia.

"Sir."

"Oeznik," Helmut greeted him, feeling only a slight feeling of disappointment. He was glad to see his old friend, of course. "Old friend. What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," Oeznik said.

The guard left them alone in the room, the door buzzing closed behind him. Oeznik was still smart looking, dressed in a three-piece suit with a navy tie on top of a white shirt. But there was a sadness in his eyes. There was a sadness that the man he had known since he was a boy was in this position.

"You didn't need to Oeznik," Helmut said. "You should be with your wife and family."

"And I am. They're in Berlin with me. We took a mini-break, but you…well…I couldn't be here and not come and see you at least once," Oeznik said. "And I thought that you would want to know how Ms Baker is faring."

"Amelia?" Helmut checked, brows furrowing. He stood up straight and moved closer to the glass in front of him. "How do you know? Have you spoken with her?"

"No, sir," Oeznik said to him. "I watched her apartment for a while in Norfolk. I thought that you would want me to keep an eye on her to make sure she was fine."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I know you, master," Oeznik said. He didn't need to offer any further explanation. He knew what it was Helmut felt. He knew what it was Amelia felt. And so he had done this for him.

Helmut simply nodded once.

"And?" he questioned.

"And…for a few weeks, there was nothing. She didn't leave her apartment. She stayed locked away and the press camped out on her street. When she returned home she was…I would say that she was harassed by them. They have been printing quite vicious lies about both of you."

"Such as?"

"You don't need to concern yourself with them," Oeznik said.

"Just tell me."

"It will not make it any better."

"Nor will my speculating," Helmut said. "Just tell me."

Oeznik sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to let this go. Helmut wasn't someone who dropped things. "They believe she knew what you had planned. They called her derogatory names, interviewed people who spoke about her private life who claimed to know her…even questioned if you two had been involved in some kind of affair while in Sokovia…and then…asking her if she was pregnant."

Helmut moved a hand to his cheek, running it down the stubble that covered it. He sank down to sit on the edge of his bed and bowed his head, imagining what those rumours would have done to Amelia.

"The attention has left her now and the last time I checked she was moving home," Oeznik said to him. "She…she has been with a man, however, for a few days. They've left the apartment block together and she's gone running with him too. She looks well. She looks healthy."

Helmut nodded once more, imagining who this man could be. Was he someone she knew before? Was he someone completely new she had met on a night out? But why should it bother him? Why should it be any of his business what she did? He had no right to know and definitely no right to feel any type of jealousy.

"I think they're just friends."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because she loved you and when you love someone, you don't move on that fast," Oeznik said, his words taking Helmut off guard. He sounded so knowledgeable and wise. "I only wish that things had been different, sir…and I know that I might be speaking out of turn right now, but I do wish that things had been different for you."

"It would never have worked out," Helmut said.

"You do not know that," Oeznik said. "And you never gave yourself a chance, sir, and now you're locked up in here and…and you could have had more…"

"When Heike and Carl died, Oeznik, I gave up thinking that I could have happiness again."

"And Ms Baker?" Oeznik questioned him. "She lost her fiancé too, sir, but she was willing to try and move on, wasn't she? Why could you not have gone with her? Why could you not have been happy with her?"

Helmut said nothing then for he didn't know what he could say to his friend. Why didn't he go? Because he truly was so full of hatred that it had suppressed the part of him that did want to move on. But he had made his choice and it was too late to dwell on the past. That would help no one.

"She will be happy without me."

"But you will not be happy without her," Oeznik retorted. "I just wish that you could have done things differently, sir."

"That makes two of us, Oeznik," Helmut confessed with a sigh. "That makes two of us."

...

A/N: Okay so a short but sweet chapter here. There's going to be more twists and turns coming up - not everything is as it seems! Let me know if you have any thoughts on what the twist could be and thanks for reading!