Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, added alerts and favourties.

I hope you enjoy the next chapter.

All mistakes are mind and mine alone.


XXX


Chapter 5:-

Steve glimpsed Bucky in the kitchen the moment he stepped onto the communal floor of the penthouse as he returned from his early morning run.

He took his time crossing the room to the kitchen, absorbed in every detail of Bucky that he could, as he watched the man move around the kitchen as if it was his own personal domain.

He knew Bucky was aware of him; his friend didn't miss a goddamn thing, even without the bonds flaring at the close proximity that the two of them were in.

"What are you making?" he asked, walking around the breakfast bar to the double door fridge, he opened one of the doors reached for the jug of freshly squeezed orange juice and closed the door behind him.

Bucky handed him a glass without even pausing in his task, "Pancakes. Mom's recipe."

"I loved your mom's pancakes," Steve admitted, as he poured himself a glass of juice and placed the jug on the side.

"I'm making enough, so you will get to have some," Bucky answered, "Where's Sam?"

"About fifteen minutes behind me," Steve admitted.

Bucky threw him a look, "He's managed to get it down to fifteen minutes."

"He's training harder."

"I think he just likes to torture himself," Bucky said, his eyebrows raised and his eyes lit with a twinkle of mischief.

Steve smiled slightly, "It's possible."

Bucky snorted.

"Are you still able to work with the Stark's security team today?" Steve asked as he took another sip of his drink and leaned back against the worktop.

"Both Clint and I are scheduled down for it," Bucky replied as he finished mixing the pancake batter.

"Good, we are adding the new recruits in with them as well," Steve said firmly.

Bucky's eyes snapped to him, hardening ever so slightly. Steve mentally grimaced.

"Why?"

Bucky's tone wasn't harsh, but there was a prickle of ice to his words.

"We need them to start working on tracking down Hydra as soon as possible. The only way we can see if we can work with them is if we actually train them and see how they fit in."

"But adding them to the time slot with Stark's security?"

"Hill said it was the best time, that way her people are split into two rotas. And we can get a feel for them before we start training with them."

Bucky held his gaze for a moment longer, before breaking it, picking up the frying pan and swivelling around some butter as it melted over the heat.

Steve refilled his glass, just as Sam stepped off the elevator.

"I almost had you," Sam called out; sweat glistening on the man's forehead and Steve could hear his heart racing against his chest.

"Keep dreaming," Steve teased, a smile twitching on his lips just as Bucky snorted.

"Shut up, Barnes!"

Steve caught Bucky's eyes that glistened with amusement, before he passed him another glass for Sam and poured the pancake batter into the frying pan, the mix sizzling away under the heat.

"Are you cooking?" Sam asked, a dazed look crossing his face as he looked at Bucky.

"If pancakes equal cooking," Bucky deadpanned, "Besides whom do you think kept that punk alive?"

"Hey!" Steve sputtered, "We took it in turns."

"You burnt the meatloaf."

"One time!" he countered as he poured Sam a glass of orange juice before putting the jug back into the fridge.

"Is Holly included with the training?" Bucky asked, turning the conversation away from the past and into the present.

Steve paused, licked his lips, before forcing himself to shut the fridge door and turn around to face Bucky. Well aware that while Bucky wasn't looking at him, he had his full attention. Sam's eyes darted between them as he reached for his glass and looked as though he wasn't sure if he should stay or go.

"All the new recruits Bucky, so yes, Holly is included with that," Steve raised his glass to his lips stopping so he could continue, "Is that going to be a problem?"

"No. Is it going to be a problem for you?"

The question threw him, and he blinked in surprise.

"No. It won't be a problem when it's my turn. We need to determine what skill sets the new recruits have. The two former Strike members speak for themselves, but the others, we need an idea."

He took a sip of his drink and leaned back against the counter. Silence falling between the three of them, as Bucky flipped skilfully flipped a pancake to cook the other side.

Once upon a time Bucky would have missed the pancake all together, and it would have ended up on the floor, or put too much force into the flip and ended up on the ceiling.

"You're better at that," he noted.

Bucky shrugged, "Hydra's training has its uses for no combative killing purposes."

Steve flinched.

"Buck -"

"I know. That was my attempt at humour."

Silence fell between them again, as Bucky slipped one pancake onto a plate and started adding more batter.

"Are you and Natasha going out today?" Sam prompted, smoothing the awkwardness that had fallen between them.

"Yeah." Steve darted a glance at Bucky before continuing, "One of her sources reached out. Has information they think we would be interested in knowing." He rubbed his thumb absently on the glass in his hands.

"Hydra related?"

He spotted Bucky tensing slightly.

"Possibly, but we can't know for certain. You have a VA meeting?"

"Yeah, I will be back at one though. You needing backup?"

"No, Natasha and I will be able to handle it."

Bucky turned from the hobs, two plates in his hand, each of them having a stack of pancakes on them. He slid one each to him and Sam before turning back and starting on the next batch.

"Thanks," they both said, as Sam moved to reach for cutlery and Steve reached for the maple syrup.

"Sergeant Barnes, Ms Potter, has entered the building," Jarvis announced, suddenly.

"Thank you, Jarvis."

Steve paused, his eyes darting up to Bucky.

"You have Jarvis monitor Holly's movements?"

Bucky snorted, "No."

Steve hesitated, debating with himself whether he should voice the next question. Did he want to know? Or would he rather not know. But then he had never been a coward.

"Have you spoken to her?"

Bucky stiffened.

"Yes."

Steve opened his mouth before snapping it shut.

What could he say?

He took a bite of the pancakes. They tasted exactly like Bucky's mom used to make them, even down to the hint of cinnamon.

He chewed slowly.

He didn't have a right to ask. Bucky was perfectly entitled to talk to whoever he wanted, and if he wanted to talk to her, then that was okay.

"The Pads for her," Bucky answered for him, as he turned around to face them.

Steve frowned, "She's already broken the one she received yesterday?"

"She threw it at me."

"She threw it at you?" Steve blinked a few times; his voice had raised ever so slightly, enough for Bucky to throw him a sharp look.

"You don't have to repeat everything I say you know punk."

"I'm not. I'm just trying to picture a scenario where Holly ended up throwing her Stark Pad at you," he countered.

He caught the amused smile on Sam's face, as brown eyes watched them both.

"I startled her in the medical-wing. It would seem Holly is a more attack first, ask questions later when she is startled."

Sam snorted, "She will fit right in here then."

Bucky threw Sam a pointed look.

"You startled her," Steve said slowly.

"I didn't hurt her," Bucky insisted.

"I didn't think for a second that you did Buck."

"I went looking for Banner; I had glass in my hand. Banner wasn't there it was just Holly, and I startled her -"

"And she threw her Pad at you," Sam finished with a grin.

"I hate you, Wilson," Bucky grumbled as he turned his attention back to the pancakes.

"I love you too, Barnes," Sam sniped back as he took another mouthful of his pancakes. "And on that beautiful note, I am going to go shower."

Sam picked up his plate, threw him a look and mouthed the words 'talk to him' before walking away.

"Aren't you curious?" Bucky asked a few minutes later. Steve glanced up, meeting Bucky's eyes as he looked at him over his shoulder.

"About?" Steve answered, blinking in surprise.

"About her. Aren't you curious why she was marked, why we were marked? About it all."

Steve couldn't read a single minuscule expression on Bucky's face. He had always been able to read Bucky, always been able to see every expression, every emotion that ever crossed his face. Now, Bucky was a closed book unless he wanted to express something.

"I'm curious."

"But not enough to try and get to know her?"

"That's not fair, Buck," he said softly, "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to feel. It's been just the two of us since we were kids, as friends, and then as -."

Bucky was looking at him and Steve felt as though he was being sucked into the depths of his blue eyes.

"I want to get to know her."

Steve hesitated a moment, choosing his next words carefully, trying to keep the hurt from showing. This wasn't about him; this was about what Bucky wanted. "I think that is a good idea."

"I'm not doing it to hurt you," Bucky said his blue eyes softly pleading with him.

Steve winced; perhaps he hadn't been able to keep the hurt from showing after all.

"I know you aren't," Steve whispered.

"I don't know who I am anymore. I know I'm not the same person I was, and I don't think I deserve that kind of love anymore. I don't deserve you."

"Bucky," Steve breathed, reaching for those bonds running between them and doing the only thing he knew how to do. He sent a calming flow of love and acceptance through them.

I love you. You will always deserve my love. I love you. I will never stop loving you.

"Stop it punk," Bucky rumbled, as he shifted on the balls of his feet.

"I don't know how to."

And wasn't that the truth, he didn't know how to stop loving Bucky. He didn't want to know-how.

Even when all those years ago and he started falling for Peggy. That had hit him like a steam train, rolled right through him, it had still been Bucky he had reached for, had been Bucky he had gone headfirst into enemy hands to pull him out because he couldn't survive the idea of Bucky being dead.

And that was what hurt the most waking up from the ice.

The raw, unadulterated pain and grief that Bucky had been dead for seventy years when it had only been three days for him.

Three fucking days.

The white hot inferno that had burned through him when he had discovered Bucky was not only alive, but a prisoner to Hydra for those seventy years had him tearing through Shield.

He hadn't been just about stopping Hydra's plans in its track. No, a deeper darker primal part of him had wanted to hurt them; rip them to shreds...had wanted vengeance and had damn well sought it out.

Steve took a breath.

But now, it wasn't just them; it was them, and another, and Steve didn't know how to fucking feel about it.

Regardless of what Thor and Natasha said, he could feel her. Not as strongly as Bucky, the bonds weren't fully there yet, but fleeting flickers, of pain, hurt, doubt and uncertainty stirred within him when he wasn't expecting it.

He felt it all.

His. Hers. Bucky's, a confusing, bubbling, wriggling amalgamation of every human emotion possible whirling around like a hurricane trapped by his ribcage. It was threatening to rip and shred him apart from the inside out.

"She's easy to talk to."

Steve stiffened, but he listened.

"Guarded. Wry of...I don't think it's of me, but rather wry of what I mean. What it all means. It's nice to not have someone scared of me on their first meeting for what I have done, for who I am."

"That wasn't you Buck," Steve assured.

"I know," Bucky's tongue flicked slightly over his bottom lip, "but I still did it. The blood is still on my hands, and I can't ever get them clean and I still don't know the full carnage that I am responsible for."

Steve didn't push, as much as he wanted to. As much as he wanted to gather Bucky in his arms, press his nose against his hair and just hold him.

He didn't.

"She's not Hydra," Bucky stated.

Steve frowned, "What makes you say that?"

"I know Hydra. Holly is hiding something, I can see that, but she's not Hydra."

Steve nodded; he would trust Bucky's judgement in that. If Bucky was saying she wasn't Hydra, then he could believe it.

"The contract was for her protection you know if Hydra finds out about her -" he left the rest unsaid because they both knew what Hydra would do if they found out about her, and got their hands on her.

"I know. I don't like it, but I know. Hydra already knows her name," Bucky muttered, "and that's my fault."

"That's not your fault, Bucky," Steve assured, "We won't let them take her."

"No. We won't."

The iciness of Bucky's tone bit at his flesh, and Steve couldn't help but shiver, because he was pretty sure that...

That was all the Solider.


XXX


"Good morning Jarvis," Holly greeted as she stepped into the only lift that went up to the Avengers floors.

"Good morning Ms Potter."

"Do you know if I can pick up my Pad?" she asked, glancing up towards the ceiling.

Jarvis may not have a physical body, but that didn't mean she wouldn't acknowledge him in some way.

"I believe Sergeant Barnes has it in his possession."

Holly blinked in surprise, "Oh...um, I wasn't expecting that. I know he said he would sort it, but I presumed I would have to collect it."

It meant that Bucky intended to give it to her personally. To see her again in person. Holly shifted slightly on her feet.

She really hadn't been expecting that.

"Did he say when he was going to give it to me?"

"I have already notified him that you are in the building."

Holly smiled tightly, "Thanks Jarvis."

Her mind was spinning. What did she do in the mean time?

Did she go and sit in Bruce's lab and wait? Did she go and sit in the communal kitchen on the main operating floor, but if she did that she ran a risk of running into Hill and explaining why she was waiting.

Or did she find somewhere else together?

Holly bit at her bottom lip.

"Jarvis is there anywhere I can wait that I won't be disturbed? I don't want to go to Bruce's lab and just sit there twiddling my thumbs."

Jarvis didn't answer straight away, as if he was thinking about his answer, before finally settling on one.

"Of course Ms. There is the observing gallery over the gym, I will inform Sergeant Barnes that you will be there."

"Thanks Jarvis."

The lift bypassed the main operating floor and stopped at the floor she needed without her even pressing the button.

Jarvis was the real king of this building, of that Holly had no doubt of. She gave a small salute as she exited and ignoring the doors that indicated the locker room went to the second door on the left as Jarvis instructed her to do so.

It led to a flight of grey steps that opened out into a large balcony that observed the gym below. A glance over the railings gave her a clear sight of the large room below, well equipped with all the equipment one would need and was large enough to run laps around.

Holly could see that someone was already making use of the gym below. She just couldn't see who.

She sat down on one of the benches.

A lack of Stark Pad had her at a disadvantage and unable to sink her teeth into her work.

Thankfully she still had her phone so she was able to check some of her emails on the new account that had been set up for her, as she tried to gather her bearings and layout of the tower.

Holly had to give Jarvis credit the observing gallery was a quiet spot and the perfect place to settle down and enjoy the quiet before she was busy working through a long list of information.

Maybe it would allow her to silence her whirling mind, calm the churning emotions.

She had had another restless night, but this time it wasn't so much work that kept her at her dining table, but rather her mind replaying the meeting with Bucky and everything that it had stirred up inside of her.

Holly closed her eyes and breathed.

The smell made her nose twitch, and her mouth water.

It smelt divine.

Holly didn't need to open her eyes to know who sat down beside her in the gallery merely seconds later.

Heat enveloped her. Pressing along her skin comfortingly as if she had just stepped inside a warm room when it was cold outside.

"Jarvis said you prefer tea over coffee. Milk no sugar," he said.

Holly opened her eyes and looked at the man sitting next to her. Two mugs carefully placed in one hand, a plate in another, with a knife and fork tucked inside.

"You do know that's kind of creepy. I've only been here a day."

"I asked a question, Jarvis answered," he replied, looking entirely too smug with himself.

"You sound a little too pleased with yourself there," Holly pointed out.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

Holly raised an eyebrow at him.

Her magic unfurled like a sleeping animal lifting its head into the air and tasting it, as it searched and reached, to strengthen the connection running between them.

Holly had no idea what the bonds felt like to muggles, but it was instinctively there for her, in her heart, in her stomach, in her soul, a smouldering ember just waiting to burst to life.

She dared not let it.

Dared not reach for it.

Holly was terrified that if she did, it would bite her in the ass, but she was a Potter, and Potters didn't run from a fight, she had never ran from a fight and she wasn't about to start now.

"Jarvis, I thought you liked me," she stated, taking the mug of tea off him. She noticed a new Stark Pad tucked under his arm.

"I do Ms Potter; however, I saw no harm in providing Sergeant Barnes with your preferred drinking preference."

"Uh-huh, I thought us Brits were sticking together," she mumbled sipping her drink.

"Of course Ms Potter."

Bucky grinned at her.

"Thank you."

"Oh, don't thank me yet, I fully intend on eating these pancakes in front of you," he said with a charming smile.

It was easy to forget everything when he smiled like that.

"Is that for me as well?" she asked, nodding her head towards the Pad.

He pulled it out from under his arm and passed it to her, "As promised, a replacement for the one that broke."

"Thank you."

She took the Pad off him and rested it on her knee.

Holly sipped her drink, before placing the mug down next to her.

He sat down next to her, and offered the plate to her, the smell of the pancakes hitting her made her stomach grumble.

"I thought you were going to eat them in front of me," she said, raising her eyebrow at him.

"I'm not that cruel."

Holly hesitated before carefully taking a pancake and napkin off him, trying and failing to not get too much maple syrup on her fingers, and took a bite. The warm combination setting her taste buds alight.

Yum!

"You make this yourself?" Holly murmured.

"Mom's recipe. It's about one of the few things I remember how to make," he answered as he took his own bite.

"Well if you ever decide to set up shop, sign me up as your number one customer," she hummed, as she took another bite.

"I will keep that in mind."

"Seriously, you would have them lining up."

"Now you are just sweet-talking me," he chuckled.

"I would never," Holly said mockingly.

Holly looked at his right hand, bandaged free.

"You do heal fast? Any of the muscles still tender?"

"Good as new."

"That's something at the very least."

"Is that concern?" he asked, locking gazes with her.

Holly snorted as she looked away, "No."

"I think it was, at least a little bit."

"You're entitled to think what you like...Sergeant."

They both fell silent, sipping their drinks, as Holly focused on loading up her new Pad. Thankfully, Jarvis, it seemed had been kind enough to ensure her details were exactly the same as her old one.

"You don't have to stay with me, consider your duty fulfilled now that you have given me the Stark Pad as you promised."

He looked at her, his blue eyes burning intensely as he locked gazes with her. Holly swallowed slowly.

"If you don't want me to stay, you are allowed to say that. "

"I figured you would be busy with Avenger stuff," she answered with a shrug.

"I am. I'm busy with you right now. If anything urgent happens and all hands on deck are needed, Jarvis knows where I am."

Holly flinched her head back slightly, her brow creasing as she frowned. Neither of them looked away, and Holly could see that he was serious, that he was sincere.

She just couldn't for the life of her work out why.

"I thought the con-" she snapped her mouth shut quickly. She wasn't going there. She really wasn't fucking going there.

He tilted his head, brow creased. Was he angry? Or confused?

Holly really couldn't tell.

"So what's on our agenda today?"

"Our agenda?" Holly asked with a raised eyebrow, "I honestly don't know what is on your agenda, Jarvis could you kindly tell the Sergeant here what is on his schedule for the day, he appears to have forgotten."

"Of course, Ms Potter. I do believe you are free till eleven o'clock, Sergeant Barnes. At eleven, you are training with the Stark security team and the new recruits. I believe Ms Potter's attendance is mandatory."

"Wait for what?"

He gave her a slight smile as he sipped his coffee.

"See, I'm free. Till eleven, and then our schedules line up. So what are we doing?"

"Why exactly is my attendance mandatory?" Holly asked, ignoring his question.

"All the recruits' attendance is mandatory. We need to assess your skills if we are going to have you out on the field with us."

Holly shook her head, "I should have read the fine print. Support was too broad of a term; anything could be squeezed in under there."

"Oh, yeah, like what?" He grinned.

"Like burying dead bodies. Where exactly would we be expected to bury dead bodies?" Holly deadpanned.

"Everybody knows you chop the body up and feed it to the pigs."

Holly blinked in surprise, her lips curving ever so slightly in amusement. He had a sense of humour. "And does Mr Stark have pigs on standby for such occurrences?"

He gave her a wink

"I'm sure it can be arranged."

He took another bite of his pancakes, falling silent for a moment, before continuing, "So what are we doing?"

"We?"

"I'm trying to offer you my help. Are you naturally this suspicious?"

"Yes. Especially when you tell me you chop up dead bodies and feed them to the pigs."

"That's only on Wednesdays. But I meant in general, do I need to take it personally?"

"It is Wednesday!"

"So it is."

Holly gave him another look over the rim of her mug.

"You aren't going to go away are you?"

"And miss the opportunity of your charming company, while being insulted by you at the same time," Bucky smirked, "Not a chance."

It was just friendly conversation, nothing more and he was easy to talk to. Yet Holly couldn't shake the feeling that he was pushing himself to speak to her.

Her brow creased together, was it just because of the marks?

Of course, it was she would be stupid to think it was for another reason.

"I was waiting for the replacement Pad, which you kindly brought me," Holly answered, glancing down to the Pad on her knees.

"What are you working on?" He shot her a curious look.

"I am currently trying to find you some medical people that are willing to work here permanently."

"You mean you would stop playing doctor?" He asked teasingly.

"Oh, I definitely wasn't playing doctor. That was about the grand scope of my skill set."

"Pity, I think you would suit a white coat."

Holly swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, ignored the charged zing in the air and the shiver that ran down the length of her spine. She ignored the glimmering mischievousness in his eyes that were spelling trouble with a capital T.

Because that statement was entirely innocent.

Even though Bucky Barnes had made it sound anything but innocent.

She even ignored the tightening of her chest at the mere mention of white coats and her churning stomach.

Don't think about that.

"I will let Bruce know you have a thing for white coats," she teased, hoping and praying that her voice didn't sound half as shaky as she was actually feeling.

He snorted, "Be nice, Holly."

She smirked around her mug, "What gave you the impression I was nice?"

Bucky didn't answer. Instead, he turned the conversation back on to her. "So where are you from originally?"

Holly blinked at the sudden turn of questions, damn it; he was good at that disarming her and then asking a question. She would have to keep an eye on it, make sure she didn't give anything away she didn't want to give away.

"I was raised in Surrey. I lived there until a week before my seventeenth birthday. I left, I didn't go back. After that, pretty much all over the place. I class London as my home base, but it's a couple of years since I have been there," Holly answered, "What about you?"

"Brooklyn born and raised."

Holly had a thousand questions but refrained from asking.

"How far is Brooklyn from the Tower?"

"Half an hour give or take on traffic," Bucky answered.

"And you have to cross that bridge right, the one that's in all the TV shows and films. At least to some degree."

His lips twitched again, "Brooklyn Bridge. You been?"

"No. But then I haven't seen any of the tourist stuff that everyone says you should see in New York."

He frowned at her, "How long have you been in New York?"

"Seven months."

"What exactly have you been doing for seven months?"

"A little of this, a little of that. It took a while to find the right apartment, and then it was looking for jobs," Holly answered nonchalantly.

"Where exactly is your apartment?"

Holly narrowed her forehead slightly, "I think they call the neighbourhood Hell's Kitchen. It was struck hard by the Invasion, so a lot of properties are dirt cheap at the moment, but good value for money."

"And in all that time you haven't been to a single tourist hotspot?"

Holly glanced at him; he threw her an incredulous look with widened eyes.

Holly squashed the urge to roll her eyes. The truth was she hadn't had the chance to visit any of the tourist attractions in New York City, even by accident. She had found her apartment reasonably quickly, and while her lawyer had handled the details for her, Holly had been travelling across America following the bread crumbs of Hydra's movements.

She had visited more than one or two corrupted police officers and Detectives who had 'looked into some of the missing children' she had identified as muggle-borns. Along with one or two government officials within their cities.

While she always apparated back to her apartment in New York, she hadn't exactly spent a lot of time in the city.

"Settling into a new city has its ups and downs. I found a bar close to my apartment which I frequent, along with good takeaway restaurants and shops that I need. I've spent time in the library, and I've looked for jobs." Holly shrugged, "And well here I am."

"Not made any friends?"

"I've made acquaintances. Some of my neighbours seem friendly enough. I mostly keep to myself, I prefer it that way," Holly admitted.

"That sounds lonely."

"It suits my purpose. I moved around a lot, made it easier when I wasn't saying goodbye every time I left somewhere." Holly looked at him, his eyes alight with understanding that made Holly shift slightly uncomfortable.

He seemed to be able to read her a little too well.

Bucky set his mug down on the bench next to him and held out his hand to her. Holly frowned as she stared at it before hesitantly taking it in hers.

Her palm tingled as he shook her hand and Holly couldn't help but take note that his palm was warmer than hers.

"Bucky Barnes," he smiled at her.

Holly smiled softly as understanding dawned on her, "Holly Potter."

She let go of his hand.

"We've made it official now. Friends?" Bucky said.

"Just like that?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It's dead easy."

"Well, aren't you a smooth one?"

His smile dropped slightly, "I used to be. At least I think I used to be."

The realisation struck through her as if lightning had hit her. Bucky was pushing himself to talk to her, not because he felt he had to because of the marks, as she had first presumed, he probably did want to talk to her.

But the teasing, the smooth talk made more sense now. Bucky was channelling the parts of himself he could remember. Of how he used to be.

Even if it felt a little off kilt.

He was trying to be the person he once was.

He was out of practice talking to people that weren't the Avengers, that didn't have some level of understanding of what had happened to him, of what he had gone through.

Holly didn't know fully what he had been through, but Merlin she had a better understanding of the horrors he would have faced than he realised. She knew exactly what it felt like to be forced to do something, to have yourself honed into a weapon.

Not on the same level, but she understood having free will taken away from her.

Holly softened her features as she chose her next words carefully. She met his gaze with her own and let as much understanding as she could shine in them, hoping that it was enough.

"You know you don't have to try so hard. I mean I'm not saying you are, but you don't have to try so hard to be who you think you used to be. You can just be you now, and that's okay. Healing takes time, and you are entitled to take that time Bucky."

A sad smile flickered for a moment before an unreadable mask slipped into place and he looked away. Merlin, Bucky was good at that.

Better than anyone she knew.

Her heart tightened. As if invisible hands had gripped around it and were squeezing tightly.

She knew she should keep her distance. The voice in the back of her mind was warning her to show fucking caution. Yelling at her that this was not what she was here for, Holly couldn't help but feel that she needed to do something to help.

It's just the marks. The marks are making you feel you need to help him.

Holly knew that wasn't true, knew that it was the voices last ditch attempt to try and get her keep her distance, to keep her safe.

She had never been unable to turn away from someone in need. That was not who she was, and helping him didn't mean she was letting him in.

"Tea or coffee?"

Bucky snapped his eyes back to her.

It was an innocent question, non-invasive, but it would make him think about things he knew about himself.

"Coffee. Black."

Holly wrinkled her nose, "I really don't understand how people can drink that."

He gave her a small smile, "It kept us going on the front lines."

"I imagine it would. A boost of energy. And milk wouldn't exactly have been easy to acquire or preserve."

"A luxury we had back in the main camp. None of us bothered wasting it in the coffee."

"Hot chocolate?"

"Only at night time. You?"

"All day if I could get away with it. I love it with cinnamon, or praline or pumpkin spice."

"Pumpkin spice?" he asked with an inquisitive glint in his eyes.

Holly shrugged, "My school had a large number of greenhouses, and they were very into using what they produced on the school grounds."

It wasn't exactly a lie; just not everything they had grown had been for human consumption through food. Some of it had been potion ingredients. Holly fired off another question before Bucky could contemplate her answer too much.

She continued, "Favourite food?"

"Pancakes. Pizza comes a close second."

Holly raised an eyebrow, "And you were willing to share your pancakes with me. I don't share my favourite food."

His lips twitched in amusement which Holly found herself responding to.

The two of them passed questions back and forth between them, not touching on any ground that was too personal and they were questions that Holly was able to circle around to make sense to the muggle world view. They weren't outright lies; in fact, she didn't lie once. She just censored it a lot.

"My apologises Sergeant Barnes, I believe Agent Barton is looking for you," Jarvis announced, cutting over their conversation.

Once a Shield Agent always a Shield Agent, Holly mused.

"Duty calls," Bucky sighed, pushing himself to his feet.

Holly followed suit, picking up her mug as she did so.

"I guess you will be showing me you're other defence moves at eleven."

"Excuse me?" Holly blinked in surprise, where exactly had that come from.

"You said yesterday you would be showing me you're other defence moves. I am going to be testing that, and then I am going to be working with you to ensure those skills are up to scratch."

"Wait, what?" Holly's eyes snapped to Bucky, who again was looking entirely too happy with himself.

Holly opened her mouth before shutting it quickly, pressing her lips firmly together.

"See you at eleven, Holly."

Holly watched him walk away from, watched the confident graceful walk that was dangerous...deadly.

Merlin, she was so screwed.

So fucking screwed.

Sparring with Bucky Barnes was, not on her to-do list. She had a feeling Bucky would call her out on her bullshit if she made it too obvious she was holding back.

Not only that, she could see herself rising to the challenge as well, and that was the most significant risk of all.

Perhaps, she could get away with it. Maybe she wouldn't have to spar with Bucky.

"Jarvis."

"Yes, Ms?"

"What are the chances of me breaking my leg between now and eleven o'clock?"

"Depending on how much effort you put into achieving your goal Ms, by chance I would say one per cent. If you were to venture into deliberate means I would say highly likely, along with sustaining other injuries. I would be duty-bound to notify Ms Hill if you intended to hurt yourself."

"How screwed am I?"

"I don't believe I understand Ms."

"It's okay, neither do I. Neither do I," Holly muttered as she made her way up to Bruce and his lab of wonders.

She would just need to hold back.

She would just need to hold back.

Holly wasn't stupid enough to think she had a chance of beating him, and that wasn't her concern, her concern was that she would reveal more about her skill levels than she wished, just by holding out longer than she should be able to.

Or god forbid, she reach for her magic.


X


Holly walked into the locker room at 10.50, her eyes sweeping over the place with a critical eye, taking note of the room in a single glance.

Unsurprisingly considering the number of people that worked for them, and had access to the Avengers floors the locker room was unisex. Thankfully she was used to changing with both boys and girls in the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

The locker room was stylish and expensive like everything Holly had seen so far in the tower, though was surprisingly bright, airy and clean, like all locker rooms, it carried the ubiquitous scent of sweat and cleaning products that gave a lemon hint to them.

Four pairs of eyes looked up at her as she entered, weighing and observing before they returned to readying themselves.

Holly frowned slightly.

Bucky had said that all the new recruits were joining the training session, along with Stark's security team.

"They have their own locker room on the lower levels."

Holly glanced up at the only other woman in the room, mousy coloured hair, and deep-set brown eyes.

She had been there early enough yesterday that she hadn't run into anybody else that had started the same time as her.

"That makes sense," she replied with a smile, giving it her best attempt at appearing friendly, although she would rather be anywhere else.

Of course, that wasn't the other woman's fault, and Holly tried her level best not to be rude if she could help it.

"Holly Potter," she introduced, holding her hand out in greeting.

The woman eyed it for a fraction longer than would be considered polite before gripping it in her own, "Diane Phillips. The two meatballs over there go by Tank and Jax, and the scrawny looking guy is Ethan Sawyer."

"I'm not scrawny!" Sawyer yelled.

"Compared to them you are," Phillips fired back, before turning her attention back onto her, "We missed you in the tour on Monday."

Holly could hear the question even if it weren't an actual question. She gave a tight smile, the thing with working with former Shield Agents, they never really stopped being Agents, and regardless of their previous roles they had worked for an organisation that dealt in espionage on top of everything else.

"Extra paperwork I had to go through. Being British, Hill had to make sure I had all the right papers that would allow me to work, legally, in the country."

Phillips gave her a hard look before a slight nod and turned her attention back to getting ready.

Holly couldn't say whether she had passed the test or not, or even if there had been a test in the first place.

She couldn't blame them for their caution, their whole world had blown up around their feet, and they didn't know who they could trust.

From the hushed mutterings that filled the room, Holly wasn't entirely sure that everyone was on friendly terms.

Of course, her fellow recruits were former Shield, and even though they were here now, with the betrayal still so raw, Holly doubted they would trust one another so quickly.

Holly busied herself with changing into her workout gear.

Gear that was provided for them, Holly wasn't even going to hazard a guess how exactly they knew her measurements or whether it was a wild guess.

They were her size, the three-quarter black length yoga pants lose enough to allow movement without fear of splitting at the seams, they were a thicker material than the ones she had seen some wear as the latest fashion statement outside the gym.

She should have known that they were observant enough to judge the size of her clothes, but the sports bra was pushing it a little far in Holly's opinion. Especially considering it fit perfectly and comfortably.

Her heart fluttered beneath her chest, and Holly swallowed the lump forming in her throat as she slipped the razorback sports top on.

It was high enough to cover the marks around her heart but still showed more skin than Holly was comfortable with, with parts of her back on show along with her shoulders and arms and neck.

Her mouth was dry, and she was aware of eyes pressing along her skin burning with questions - though not a single person in the room asked.

Holly kept her back turned away from the others in the room, ignored the itching between her shoulder blades and focused on trying to calm her mind.

They were just scars.

And they were something Holly had never bothered in hiding before, but they signalled a violent past.

And they would bring questions.

Questions Holly wasn't prepared to answer, though she doubted she would ever be ready to answer them.

She had her scars from her years at Hogwarts, the battle with the Basilisk, the Triwizard Tournament, from Umbridge and her blood quill - even scars from before she went to Hogwarts when all she had to worry about was battling Dudley and surviving those incidents.

But the scars from Riddle and his Death Eaters, from the war, the battles that followed after, and Hydra...Holly closed her eyes as she tied her hair back in a bun as neat as she could manage.

Riddle's brand, his mark, permanently burned into her skin on her left shoulder. Riddle had wanted his own personal stamp to make up for the lack of their matching bonds. Her name marred his skin, then the Dark Mark would mar hers. A sign of ownership that no matter how hard she tried to forget Riddle owned a part of her that she could never get back...that she was tainted goods.

Healing had failed.

And no matter how many times or how long she spent under the boiling hot water scrubbing herself clean she had never felt clean enough.

Just another reason why she didn't want to get close to Bucky or Steve.

Riddle had tainted her. Tainted what the marks should mean.

Thick red lightning-shaped patterns down the length of one arm where a curse had hit her. The left side of her neck where a vampire had taken a chunk out of her. Claw marks from the pack of werewolves she had tangled with. Criss-cross scars littered her shoulders, her neck, and her arms.

There were others, hidden beneath her top, and yoga pants, each one a sign that she had survived something that had tried to kill her, that wanted to destroy her.

She would not cower.

Steeling her spine, Holly straightened and focused back on her task.

She would not bend or break.

Even if she wasn't ready for the onslaught of questions she had no doubt would head her way.

Using sleight of hand tactic to ensure her wand holster was still in place. She never went unarmed anymore. She had learnt that lesson the hard way after her first assassination attempt the year after the Battle.

Hidden from sight in layers of wards and protected from damage Holly was confident that she would be able to keep it on while she sparred. The idea of taking it off made her shudder, and her stomach twisted uncomfortably.

Holly folded and piled her clothes into her locker, before pulling her hair into a messy bun as she walked out of the second door and into the gym.

She exited the locker room through the second door, following behind the others. Stark's security people were already there waiting, and from their hard assessing looks Holly wasn't so sure it was patiently or friendly.

A divide between those who worked for Stark Security and those who worked directly for the Avengers that was not something Holly wanted to get in the middle of.

She was able to blend in amongst the others and considering that all of them towered over her, that wasn't hard.

Holly had never been conscious of her height before, accepting that the years of neglect at the hands of the Dursleys had a somewhat negative effect on her growth. But she had in the years that followed the Battle of Hogwarts gained the weight and body strength she needed to be healthy. But surrounded by people that crossed that threshold of 6ft3 and onwards, Holly felt oddly small.

In the way that made her reassess the best way she would be able to take them out without magic, or how long she could realistically show herself holding out before it became suspicious.

Her competitive streak grumbled in protest because Holly had learnt to fight tooth and nail for everything she had and the idea of forcing herself to be weaker deliberately didn't sit well with her anymore.

It would be too suspicious, though if she suddenly showed she was an expert.

Not that she was sure she could take them without magic. Holly had the training, a new protocol that they had put into place while she was an Auror. Allowed them to be useful even if they were disarmed, but it had never been any particular style, or art, or practice.

Even in the years since she had been on her own, her combat skills were dirty and fast.

The only thing Holly could effectively use to her advantage now was that she was fast.

Nobody would raise an eyebrow at that.

But if she took down a trained Agent without any official training, then eyes would watch her more closely.

She just needed to hold back.

Hold back and not use her magic.

She could do that.

A sweep of the room showed that Bucky and...Barton was already in the room. Bucky was leaning against one of the walls, his arms crossed over his chest, blue eyes fixed on to her.

Holly ignored him though she had no doubt as observant he was, he was taking note of every one of her scars.

Holly shuddered.

He was only paying attention to her because of the marks.

And because she had said she had better defence moves than throwing a Pad at him.

What exactly had been running through her mind in that particular moment, Holly wasn't entirely sure.

But it led to dangerous territory. Territory she had to avoid at all costs.

She could be friendly, but she had to remember why she was here.

"Alright, listen up!" Barton said suddenly, breaking the silence in the room.

"There is only one rule in this room. What happens in this room stays in this room. Someone knocks you down or hurts you, too bad. That's what happens when you are training you to get hurt."

Barton paused, looked up at them, "Out there, or an attack on the tower, and you are going to fight, you are going to bleed and its possible you are going to die. In here, we are going to give you the skill sets you need to survive. To keep fighting. You are going to hate us, and that's fine. But it stays fucking in this room."

"Some of you already know some of our training methods; others have training already under their belt. We are here to get better every damn day. The next Invasion. The next attack - right around the corner. Security has risen to a level four in this building alone. Let's make sure we are ready to keep the people that work here safe."

Holly blinked in surprise, she wouldn't say it was a motivational speech, but it was something. She wasn't aware that the security on the building had increased to a level four - but then why would she be?

She needed to figure out precisely what that meant and where the threat was coming from. Was it Hydra, or was it something else?

"We will start with warming up. Push-ups. Start now."

Barton pointed to the floor, and Holly watched as everybody moved. At least the Stark Security team did well versed in what the sessions consisted of, even if some muttered grumblings and groans.

Holly followed suit of everyone else. Moving to the floor, she extended her arms and legs and started lifting her body.

Pathetically.

Holly hated push-ups. Come to think of it, she couldn't remember the last time she had done them. Had she ever done one?

Her muscles burned under protest, and she silently cursed under the sun, with everyone she did. Well aware that the others around her were mostly moving effortlessly.

As if they had been doing it for years.

Was this some kind of muggle torture?

Merlin, she hated it.

"You've never done push-ups before have you?"

Holly pushed herself to her knees and looked up at Bucky, who had been moving through them along with Barton.

"That obvious?"

"A little." His eyes trailed over her arms, hardening with every scar he catalogued, and Holly forced herself not to react, to not flinch away, because, goddamn it, her past was hers and nobody else's. She didn't have to explain anything to anyone.

"I'm more of a running and stretching kind of girl, not push-ups," she answered, attempting to distract from the growing tension as Bucky seemed to go stiller than he had done so before.

Holly shuddered from the chill that crept through her and threw him a look.

He ignored it, his jaw clenching as he knelt down next to her.

"We will try it a different way until you gain strength then. We don't want you to injure yourself while you are warming up."

His tone was sharp.

"No, injury is saved for the actual sparring right?"

He smiled slightly at her though Holly could tell it was forced. "Avoiding injury is preferable. Despite Barton's speech."

"Okay, so how do I do this differently?"

"Hands and knees," he said, waiting for her to get into position, "walk your hands forward until your body is in a straight line from your head to your knees. Your hands need to be positioned beneath and slightly wider than your shoulders."

Holly followed his instructions, aware of how close he was kneeling down next to her.

"Okay, squeeze your body to keep your torso straight, bend your arms and lower yourself to the floor. Straighten your arms to press back up to the starting position."

Holly did.

Bucky counted ten with her, before telling her to move into sit-ups. She nodded her thanks to him before he carried onto the next person. Holly was aware of Barton helping a few of the others, moving between each of them.

Lunges, squats and a set of stretches followed; until they were both satisfied that every one of them had worked every muscle enough not to cause series harm when they actually sparred.

Holly wasn't used to warming up.

Fighting for her life was all instincts, reaction and action. She hadn't had time to warm up while duelling with a wizard or witch.

Even when fighting muggles, her primary goal was survival, she had reacted and attacked focusing on disabling her opponent as quickly and as efficiently as she could.

Holly grabbed a quick mouthful of water in the brief respite before Barton paired them up.

Holly focused on her opponent her head tilting slightly, her eyes narrowing.

One of Stark's security people.

His name tag read 'Williams'.

She looked up at him and found blue eyes assessing her, a slow smile creeping along his lips.

Holly ignored it.

He was muscular, well-built, giving the impression he was not someone you wanted to cross.

Both Barton and Bucky had themgo through a series of motions of how to hit the ground without injuring themselves - how to roll, to balance their weight and how to use the momentum to press on into a different move.

Holly noted, out of the corner of her eye, that only two other pairs of sparring partners that were going through the same series of movements that she and Williams were.

The others were already moving through drills far faster and more advanced than them.

Sawyer and Phillips each faced their own Stark Security person.

Recruits.

Williams was new.

Holding back wouldn't be a problem if they didn't know what to expect from her. Except Holly was well aware of Bucky's eyes tracking her movements, observing to closely, with a slight frown on his face, a head tilted to the side, as if something didn't quite add up.

He saw too much.

Holly did her best to ignore him as she worked through the basics with Williams.

Kicks, punches, blocks, hand attacks.

Movements she knew and movements she didn't.

Williams hit hard, each blow packing more force behind it than she had anticipated a training exercise to use, and while he was fast he wasn't quite as fast as she was.

Physical strength but not the speed.

Her body moved fluidly, into each movement, all the while she reigned in her speed, her strength, her instincts had seen several weak spots in Williams' defence and was urging her on to take him out.

It would be easy.

To easy.

Holly ignored it all.

Focused on her breathing, on pulling her punches, her kicks.

This wasn't a fight for survival.

This wasn't a fight to the death.

It was just training. Just an exercise.

Williams pulled a move she hadn't been expecting, his fist connecting with the side of her jaw with an echoing sound of flesh hitting flesh.

Her head snapped back, and Holly stumbled.

Her teeth clashing together.

She hissed in pain and focused on her breathing as her stomach churned.

Damn it to fuck!

It had been a hard hit, thank fuck she had pulled back just a fraction the last second, so while he had hit her, he hadn't hit her in the right spot to knock her out.

"Williams!"

Williams advanced forward.

A fist flew towards her.

Holly dodged.

Another strike followed.

Williams socked her on the nose.

Pain spasmed, her eyes watered.

She blinked through it.

Fuck that hurt.

"Barnes!"

Barton was calling Bucky, she was vaguely aware of it, but Holly couldn't say she was focusing on why.

All she saw was red.

All she could taste was her blood.

Instincts took over.

Holly shoved the pain down.

She was no stranger to pain, it was something she knew well, something she could work with.

She dodged his following punch, sidestepped to the left, and kicked out, hitting him in the inner side of his left leg with as much force as she could muster. His leg gave away under him, forcing him to crumble a little.

Holly advanced as he stumbled.

Grabbing hold of him.

Pulling him down as she dropped and rolled.

Kicked out with a leg to his stomach as she did until she rolled him over her and he hit the floor, and she was straddling him.

His eyes widened in burning surprise.

Her heart was racing, it pounded against her chest; she shifted off him stepping away.

Well aware of eyes fixed onto them.

Fuck, fuck, she had just screwed up.

She had fucking royally screwed up!

Bucky's eyes had darkened considerably, swirling raging emotions, his gaze firmly fixed on Williams, only moving to her when she shifted slightly.

When exactly had he gotten so close to her?

Fuck!

"Barnes," Barton warned.

"What?" Bucky bit out.

"Take her to the medical wing; make sure that nose isn't broken."

"Tilt your head forwards, pinch the bridge of your nose and breathe through your mouth," he growled, taking a step closer to her.

The silence that filled the room was deafening.

"Barnes," Barton said, more firmly, more heat in his tone, "Medical wing."

Oh, hell, no!

"I'm fine, I will be fine. The bleeding has stopped," Holly babbled, bringing her head up.

It hadn't.

It was still bleeding.

"Let me have a look."

Holly felt herself freeze as Bucky's hand touched her chin, tilting it ever so slightly upwards.

"It's red and looks like it's starting to swell. We will get Banner to check it out. Keep your head tilted forward and breathe through your mouth. Come on."

He had a hand on her back; a steadying presence as he led her out of the gym.

Holly felt faint, and she knew it had more to do with the fact that she was heading to the medical wing as a patient rather than the pain and loss of blood.

Holly hated hospitals of any kind.

Hated being the patient.

Hated the white coats.

The vulnerability.

The memories swirling through her mind as though she was stirring a cauldron.

Please not right now. Please not right now.

Breathe.

She just needed to breathe.

She needed to push it away, just push it fucking away.

Except her stomach had just opened up into a bottomless pit, and hands were reaching up to wrap around her and pull her down, chains weighing latching on with every breath she took.

She couldn't breathe.

She couldn't breathe.

Her heart fluttered.

Her chest tingled.

She couldn't breathe.

And then they were stepping across the medical wing threshold - wait how did they get there so quickly? Bucky was leading her to the bed where she leant against because she couldn't quite make herself sit on it, and he was calling for Banner.

Just breathe.

She just needed to breathe.

Why couldn't she breathe?

And then she saw a man in a white coat and the world roared around her.

Holly desperately reached for her shields, but they slipped through her fingers like water.

All she could do was drown in the memories that clung to her skin, and sunk into her soul, icy hands gripping tightly around her and squeezed as they pulled her down.

Hands pushed her down onto the bed as someone pulled and tightened restraints around her fixing her firmly in place. She couldn't move anything except her eyes. Her eyes tracked the movements as men in white coats crowded around her, shoved needles into her arms.

"Proceeding with Phase 1." A voice hummed.

A smiling face.

Knives cut across her, skin split and a searing wildfire roared through her entire body and...God make it stop! Make it stop! STOP!

"Holly! Holly, sweetheart, it's okay, you're safe."


XXX


Holly jerked away from him and Banner with such force that the bed moved with her as she darted around, firmly putting it in-between them and her.

A maelstrom was currently pulsing through the bonds, pushing aside his own icy rage that had been threatening to spill out the moment the bastard Williams had made contact with her jaw, the moment he had seen Holly's blood dripping down her face.

Bucky's skin prickled and his spine tingled as something seemed to creep over him like sharp nails kneading in a warning.

A sensation he was familiar with and yet he couldn't place it.

He could smell the acidic vinegar scent he had come to associate with fear, mixing with the coppery twang of blood and a hint of something he couldn't quite name.

Her body was trembling as she was rooted to the spot in the corner of the medical wing.

Bucky had felt the trembling in his hands as he had led her to the medical wing, but he has presumed it was shock rather than fear, but now, there was no mistaking the panic-stricken look across her face.

"Holly," Banner said softly stepping forward.

Holly flinched away, her face turning ashen as she fixed her eyes on Banner.

She let out a whimper that sent Bucky searching for whatever threat he needed to destroy, to protect her.

Except there wasn't any but him and Banner.

Bucky shot out his left arm as Banner moved to take another step forward.

"Don't," he growled in warning.

Banner looked at him.

"She isn't seeing you. At the moment I doubt she is seeing either of us."

And she wasn't seeing Banner, Bucky knew that glazed look, she was stuck in whatever living nightmare that had been triggered.

Her breathing was becoming more erratic, and he could hear her heart racing as it pounded against her chest.

Threatening to break free any second.

He needed to calm her down.

He needed to help any way he could.

Because she was not meant to look like that.

She wasn't supposed to be cowering like a terrified animal that reminded him so much of himself when he had first stepped through the tower doors.

She wasn't afraid of him. Of the monster that he was.

She challenged and teased him.

She had taken a punch to the jaw and the nose and had still kept fighting.

She had pushed through the pain and taken down her opponent.

Holly had been okay until...

Medical wing.

Had been fine until Barton had mentioned the medical wing.

Except she had been working in the medical wing yesterday without any problems, Holly had been working with Banner.

He swivelled to look at Banner, half putting himself between the man and Holly.

Banner looked startled, surprised...confused...upset.

Bucky felt his eyes widen.

"Take off your coat."

"What?" Banner frowned.

"Your coat. Your white coat. Take it off," Bucky growled.

Banner didn't hesitate. He slipped out of the white coat and placed it on the workbench.

"What happened?"

"Sparring took a punch to the jaw and nose. She was fine until Barton mentioned coming here, and then she just -"

"A trigger?" Banner asked with a frown.

"I don't know," he said with a frown as he looked at the white coat. He hated that he didn't. Didn't know how to help either.

He knew the slightest thing could potentially set him off, throw him for a loop and he wasn't particularly comfortable around Doctors, but he trusted Banner.

To a degree.

"She was fine yesterday," Banner said softly.

"She wasn't injured yesterday," he pointed out, as he moved around the bed and a little closer to her.

He took another step forward, lowered himself down, hands held up in the surrender signal.

Her eyes fixed onto him.

Bucky doubted that she was really seeing him, though.

"Holly," he said softly, "I know it doesn't feel like it, but you are safe here. Nobody is going to hurt you."

Her eyes were wide; too wide he could see the white around her them.

He reached for the bond and sent as much reassurance as he could through them.

Steve was better at this than he was.

Steve was more reassuring. Calmer, gentler.

Not harsh and cold like he was now.

She stiffened, and he pulled back ever so slightly, still reaching as delicately as he could, barely holding them in metaphysical fingers and brushed gently over them.

Calming.

Comforting.

He had had episodes where he couldn't stand to be touched, and he had had episodes where touching had calmed him down.

Bucky didn't want to push her, didn't want to push her deeper into herself.

"Can you give us a minute?"

"I will be outside. Take as long as you need."

He waited until Banner left until he started talking again.

"I want you to try and breathe with me okay?" he said slowly and gently.

"Breathe in."

He took a breath.

Holly took a breath.

Her eyes never leaving him.

He took another breath.

She took a breath.

He edged a little closer, just from one side, giving her the room to move if she wanted to, not cornering her in any further, and not taking away her choices.

He really wished Steve was here, Steve would know what to do.

But Steve hadn't said two words to her.

He took another breath and offered one hand out.

Even in her panicked state, her instincts pushed forward, too ingrained into who she was to not track his movements as he encroached into her personal space.

Bucky had no idea how much she really saw though, how much she was registering or whether it was just primal instincts.

When the Soldier took over.

When he became the weapon, he was all instincts. Instincts and orders and missions.

Nothing else mattered.

He watched her, read her body language as best he could. Problem with injured animals was you never knew how they were going to react.

He could see the tightness in her body, the way it coiled ready to strike, or prepared to be hurt.

He could see the rawness in those green eyes. Darkness creeping over them. Innocence stripped away through sins, and death and war leaving a predator that knew the fight for survival intimately and had come out on top at a cost. A spine of steel even now as she fought with blood-drenched claws and fangs to push her way out of whatever living nightmare that gripped her tightly.

It was a look he knew well.

It was a look he had seen in his own eyes whenever he looked in the mirror. He had lived and breathed darkness and was trying to find a place for himself in the light.

It seemed Holly was just like him.

He couldn't speculate on what she had survived, on what she had gone through.

Yet as he offered her his hand, all he could do was wait patiently and hope and pray that she reached for him.

A lifeboat in a raging storm, because it was clear that Holly was lost at sea at this moment.

The bonds rippled between them.

He took a breath.

She took a breath.

And then she reached, her hand shaking, her eyes burning into his soul. He wrapped his hand around hers and shuffled forward a little.

Her hand was warm.

Firm, slightly calloused, and so much smaller than his.

He wasn't sure why he paid attention to that particular detail except that he did.

He found it comforting, her hand in his. It had been so long since someone other than Steve was willing to touch him.

But this wasn't about him, this was about her. Calming her.

Reassuring her.

Careful to not make any sudden movements, he placed her hand on his chest, over his heart.

"Feel my heartbeat; I want you to just focus on that, breath with that."

His heart thumped.

Holly breathed.

And again.

And again.

He could feel her pulse in his fingertips, feel it slow in time.

Every breath she took a little calmer, a little deeper than the last.

Until she had control of her breathing.

Until she had control of herself.

He felt her arm loosen, the tension in her muscles slipping away, he scented the change in emotions, moving from acidic panic to pungent sour scent of shame.

Her chin had dropped to her chest, and she refused to meet his eyes.

Bucky hated it.

It made him want to lash out and hit something.

He knew shame well; he felt it himself more often or not.

"I'm sorry," she muttered.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he replied.

"I shouldn't - I -"

"Holly," he said, cutting across her, "You have nothing to be sorry for. I can't say I know what happened or understand why it happened. But you have nothing to be sorry for, nothing to be ashamed of. You're injured, you are feeling vulnerable, and something about here didn't feel right for you. And that's okay."

"I -" she snapped her mouth shut.

"We can leave if you want. I can get Banner to treat you up in the penthouse; we don't have to stay in the med-bay."

"I don't want to be any trouble."

"You aren't. But we need to look at that nose, and make sure everything is okay."

They were quiet for a long time. Holly not answering, though he could see her weighing up her options until finally, she nodded, just once.

But it was enough.

He pushed himself to his feet, pulling her up with him, keeping his hand wrapped around hers. She didn't pull away; she just let him hold it.

The bonds were pulsing to life between them, zapping and zinging made more intense by the physical contact, and the power that flowed through them was more than it was before.

And if Holly was gripping onto them tightly, well then Bucky was okay with that.

Even if it meant that they had unintentionally strengthened their connection.

He could feel her now, clearer rather than fragments.

Bucky couldn't even begin to unravel what she was feeling, it made no sense to him. A maelstrom of emotions whirling around inside of him, consuming all in its paths.

It was overwhelming, intense, the sheer weight building inside threatening to explode outwards, and Bucky couldn't tell where his ended and hers began.

But for now he dared not close them, not when it was clear she needed them.

He led her out of the medical wing, Banner was waiting in the hallway.

"I'm taking her up to the penthouse, are you able to treat her there?"

Banner looked between them, "Of course. I will just get what I need and meet you up there."

"Banner."

The other man turned to face him.

"Leave the white coat."

The bite to his tone held all the warning he needed to make, not that he was stupid to directly threaten the Doctor. Hulk would turn him into mincemeat if he even tried, but he needed to give the warning never the less.

Banner nodded once before walking back into the medical wing. Bucky led Holly towards the elevator, their hands still entwined.

And he found that more comforting than he wanted to admit.