A/N

I don't believe in denying my readers a relationship that I have stated will happen, so I hope the small Bucky/Izzy notions in this chapter satisfy people :)

Thanks once again to those that have reviewed, set this as a favourite and followed the story since the last update - I really do appreciate it, and please do continue! I love to hear peoples thoughts and feelings on the story and I'm glad that so far everyone is enjoying it :)

Chapter 4 everyone! Enjoy!

CHAPTER 4

.*.

"Maybe a little more warning next time you decide to run at me launching knives."

.*.

Whilst Bucky had commandeered the bathroom to wash up, Isabelle had headed into her bedroom - closing the door with a firm slam to hopefully indicate that she wanted to be left alone for a little while. Dragging her feet behind her she flung herself down onto the bed as exhaustion washed over her body, both mentally and physically - she took a deep breath in, savouring the smell of fresh bedding. Just as she was getting comfortable a vibration in her pocket caused her to jump, stirring her before she descended into what she liked to call her 'red zone' - the little moments in her day where she became so relaxed that her mind wandered elsewhere. She pulled her phone out to see that it was a text from Tony.

Whats up squirt. I hope the new hulk has settled in alright - now you can enjoy him smashing your possessions to pieces! I have Jarvis locked onto your co-ordinates so that if we need to get there in a rush we can. Stay safe. Don't do drugs.

Isabelle couldn't help but roll her eyes, sometimes Tony was funny, but the majority of the time he most certainly wasn't. Shooting up into a sitting position she glanced towards her bedside cabinet - Tony's text had reminded her about Natasha's - and sure enough like she had said in her message there was a large pile of files – the top one with Sokolov's name on it. Picking it up she flipped through to the fresh page that had been added in at the back, the top paragraph contained the last known address and co-ordinates of his wife – which if Isabelle were to make an educated guess was where Natasha and Clint were now heading - but the rest of the page lead for a pretty gruesome read. The body of Freddie Campbell, an administrative aide that Isabelle only knew in passing was found after SHIELD had conducted a sweep of all their permanent personnel and realised he was missing. Agents Erikson and Dames – two of Clint's former protegees - arrived at Freddie Campbell's apartment and discovered his strangled corpse in bed with his left hand neatly sliced off – the hand nowhere to be found.

Isabelle looked away from the report for a minute, trying to control the feeling of utter horror clawing at her stomach, she was certain that she was coming to the same conclusion that everyone else did. Swallowing hard, she carried on reading to discover that she was indeed correct.

It appeared that Sokolov had expertly removed the skin on the left hand in one piece and fashioned it to his own, allowing him to easily bypass the bio-metric hand scanner at the entrance to SHIELD HQ. There wasn't much else to read into other than a small paragraph by the writer of the report - Agent Hill herself - who hypothesised that whatever computer terminal Sokolov used to extract the stolen files from was near impossible to detect, there was no trace on any system other than a warning to Fury's computer that the files had been accessed - a protocol Fury had put in place himself in the off chance a situation like this would arise. Sokolov had gotten in, taken the information he wanted, scrambled all of the CCTV - except the ones monitoring the entrance - and left without a trace. On one hand Isabelle was impressed, but on the other she was completely horrified. The last paragraph was a handwritten note from Agent Hill detailing why it had taken so long for SHIELD to receive accurate information on Viktor Sokolov – even when they did find out his identity, all searches against his name were also scrambled, leading Agent Hill on a tumultuous three weeks of painfully undoing the damage and piecing together the little knowledge that was now available on him - Isabelle would happily bet a months wage that more would surface. The fact that he didn't wipe his profile from any of the international databases and that he kept the CCTV by the entrance completely viable told Isabelle that this was a man who wanted to be found, which meant their next steps had to be very careful – so far he appeared to be a couple of steps ahead of them at every turn.

Closing the file she chucked it on the bed behind her, turning her attention to the rather large bundle that was left. A quick glance through confirmed that they were mission reports acquired by SHIELD on every single mission Bucky had been sent out on, no details were spared. Isabelle wasn't sure how in the hell SHIELD had got their hands on these, with Bucky's mind being placed in a blender after every mission, it hardly came from him. Deciding that was a problem for another day she picked them up and dumped them in the bottom drawer of her dresser without a second glance, she didn't want Bucky seeing them just yet – she was more than aware that not only did Bucky struggle to remember who he was, he also struggled to remember what he had done as the Winter Soldier. Every time he completed a mission he was scrambled, a blank slate willing to kill anyone with no memory of his previous victims to play with his conscience. Despite her interest, Isabelle couldn't bring herself to read them either, she had enough queasiness in her stomach as it was with the whole Sokolov issue.

An abrupt knock on the door interrupted her from her thoughts. "Yeah?"

Bucky opened it and stepped in, a lurking shadow in her faint bedside light. She noticed he had slipped into a dark grey pair of thin sweatpants and a fitted long sleeved red top. It was almost unsettling seeing him in such relaxed clothing.

"What's the plan?" he crossed his arms as he lent against her door frame.

"What do you mean?" she squinted her brow in utter confusion.

"I'm not stupid Agent Sulli-"

"Call me Iz." She interjected – she hated being called such a formal name when she was out of Agent mode, and besides, the rest of the Avengers called her Iz or Izzy so why shouldn't he?

"Okay Iz," he corrected himself. "I'm not stupid, I know you aren't just going to sit around for the next few weeks playing babysitter, so whatever your plan is tell me, cause I'm in."

o.0.o

"So he meticulously peeled the skin off of this guy's hand and wore it like a glove?"

Isabelle had decided that if she was going to start formulating a plan of action she at least needed to do it with a full stomach, but as they ate their Chinese take-out and poured themselves over the file in front of them she was starting to regret it.

"Yup," she mumbled, trying to ignore the images forming in her head.

"I don't know whether to be impressed or disgusted." Bucky pondered as he shoved some more noodles into his mouth. The worst thing was, Isabelle wasn't sure herself, she knew she should be repulsed, but at the same time the meticulous detail almost had her in awe.

"Yes well let's move on, I'd rather not be talking about dead bodies and skinless hands whilst I eat." She picked up some chicken with her chopsticks, hesitating before placing it in her mouth and chewing, ignoring the uncanny resemblance it now appeared to share with human fingers.

"So, come on then, what's the plan?" he lent back against the armrest of her sofa, crossing his legs one over the other in front of him.

"Well firstly, I need to let my arm heal." She waved it up and down as if to emphasise her point. "Then I need to make sure my arm can still do all the things it could do before – throwing knives, hand to hand combat, combat with knives, defending against kniv-"

"So basically, you want to make sure you can throw, fight, live and breathe knives." He summarised with a snort.

"Yeah, pretty much." she shrugged, trying to keep her nerves at bay - the fact that she didn't know whether a return to full fitness would be possible was another factor in her exhaustion. Her next move heavily depended on her trust in her body to do exactly what she wanted it to do.

"Well I can help you with that." He spoke between mouthfuls. "Knives are kind of my forte as well." He paused, mid mouthful - his eyes widened, as if he was caught in the act of a dreadful deed.

"Bucky, are you alright?" she chucked her carton of food down and shuffled closer, placing a hand on his leg. When he didn't respond she dug her nails in, forcing him out of his trance.

"What did you say?" he looked down at her blankly, almost as if he had never seen her before.

"I asked if you were alright?" she eyed up the black box sitting on the kitchen worktop, spying out a path to it if needed.

He followed her line if sight, sighing. "Don't worry Iz, I'm still me. Just sometimes some of the words that come out of my mouth feel like it's the Winter Soldier speaking, I mean, who brags about being good with knives?"

"I do." She answered, satisfied that he wasn't about to flip personalities.

"Yeah but I've killed god knows how many people." He placed his carton down on the floor, letting his head fall into his hands.

"Once again, I'm completely guilty of that too." She squeezed his leg, keeping the pressure until he glanced up. When someone was going through a mental battle, the best thing was always human touch - it subconsciously reminded them that they weren't alone. "Bucky, you've got two options, you can wallow and torture yourself with the thought of it all or you can use your skill set for the greater good." She reached around behind her and pulled one of her favourite knitted blankets off the back of the sofa and wrapped it around herself. When she hit people with cold hard facts she at least liked to be comfortable. "I'm not going to bullshit you and tell you that 'it wasn't you' or that 'its all in the past now' – that's what Steve is for. It was you, it was your hands and we both know its not all quite in the past for you yet."

He didn't stir as she stopped talking, she tugged at the blanket, unsure on whether to continue with her analysis, but as the silence grew she decided there was no harm in giving her opinion.

"What I'm trying to say is that you've got a real chance here to redeem yourself. Look at Natasha, she probably had more kills than you whilst she worked for the KGB, and yet when Clint was sent out to kill her he saw her potential and brought her in instead, giving his personal recommendation for her to begin training to become an Agent." She paused as Bucky's head flew out of his hands and his eyes widened in complete surprise, clearly from his reaction he hadn't had the full update on all of the Avengers yet. Glad that she now had his undivided attention she continued. "Which as you can see she has excelled at – there is no reason what-so-ever that you can't achieve the same. If you don't do it for yourself, at least do it for your victims, make them the last of the innocent and make the rest of your kills people who deserve death." She kept eye contact the whole time, hoping her words had hit a nerve - emotions were good, something that Bucky lacked to show. He didn't say anything for a while as he let his head fall back into his hands again.

The silence was beginning to get incredibly awkward and Isabelle was considering going to fetch some more beers just to get out of the tension when he finally sat up properly, swinging his legs onto the floor and resting his elbows on his knees as he clasped his hands together.

"Steve said you had a way with words." He gave her an exhausted smile. "I just didn't realise you were that good."

She breathed a sigh of relief, glad that he hadn't dismissed her views.

"I hear where you're coming from Iz but it's imperative that I remove this block in my head, I need to remember what I have done. I need to get rid of whatever it is that allows someone to control my body." He gazed off into the distance, zoning out once more. "I can't become a mindless killer again."

Part of her felt guilty that she had the potential answer to unlocking his memories sitting in the bottom drawer of her dresser, but he wasn't ready to read everything that he had done, not yet.

"Helen is working on that little brain-washing issue, but until then we can work on everything else. Agreed?" she held a hand out to him, capturing his attention back from wherever his mind was. Taking it firmly he shook it once.

"Agreed."

o.0.o

The next two days passed in a blur, they spent the days going over and over the tiny little morsels of information that they had on Viktor Sokolov - double, triple, quadruple checking that they hadn't missed any little details. To Isabelle's relief Bucky was either sleeping soundly or staying awake during the night, either way there were no nightmares forcing her to launch a dart at him. Come the third day, Isabelle was practically bouncing off of the walls ready to take her sling off.

"Dr Cho said to only take it off if it didn't hurt, now are you su-"

"Yes! Yes! Hurry up!" she lambasted him, flipping her hand in a circular motion as if that would speed up the process. Shaking his head and sighing at her impatience he undone the Velcro at the back, carefully sliding her arm out and setting it free. She didn't waste a second before she had it stretching in all directions, careful at first but then with a little more weight behind her shoulder to really test it. The relief washed over her as she felt no pain. She ran out of the living room and into the wardrobe in her bedroom, picking up a faded old belt that was full of her favourite throwing knives and hurrying back out to the living room. Without a word she ripped a knife free and launched it at Bucky, who ducked and rolled forward expertly before tackling her onto the ground.

"Woah Bucky calm down!" he wrestled her onto her back and flanked a leg across either side of her stomach, pining her hands above her head as he held his own knife to her throat. Interesting, she hadn't noticed it on his body.

"What the hell Iz?!" he snarled at her as his grip tightened.

"I was testing my arm out!" she tried to protest as he dug the knife in against her neck. "Jesus Bucky get off!" she brought her leg up, connecting it with the back of his skull, distracting him enough for her to rip an arm free and grip his knife hand. "I was testing my arm out!" she yelled for a second time - this time she seemed to get through to him.

After giving her face the once over, as if trying to detect a threat - and clearly satisfied that she wasn't - he climbed off of her, offering her a hand begrudgingly as he stood up - which she gladly took.

"Maybe a little more warning next time you decide to run at me launching knives." He growled, releasing her hand and turning away from her. He walked over to the wall to inspect the knife embedded about two feet above where he had stood moments before - with ease he reached up and yanked it out. "On the plus side at least you missed."

But Isabelle wasn't happy at all. "Yeah I did miss, completely!" she tried hard to restrain her tears but she couldn't, instead she threw herself back onto the sofa and covered her face.

"Please tell me that was the point?" his voice was tinged with confusion.

Calming her beating chest, she looked up at him. "Yes, but I was aiming just past your left ear. A week ago I could have launched that knife with my eyes shut and have it graze your ear as it travels, but today?" she let her head fall into her hands, mimicking Bucky's earlier despair. "Today I was a whole two feet off. That is a momentous shift in aim."

Bucky said nothing as he sat down next to her, she watched through her fingers as he slowly placed the knife down on the coffee table before taking the same hand and awkwardly placing it on her back.

"I told you I could help you and I will. Why don't we start now? Although this time why don't we use your dart board instead of my face?" he attempted to joke with her.

She laughed all of a sudden - surprising herself - firstly at that horrendous attempt at humour by Bucky, but then suddenly everything was funny - her whole sorry situation that she had found herself in from the moment she was nearly killed, the fact she was now babysitting the man who would have happily murdered her and her friends weeks ago and the fact that she was sat at home doing nothing because of it all instead of finding the bastard that done this. It was all completely hilarious to her in that moment.

But then the tears came.

And then she was laughing and crying all at once to the point that she was hysterical.

"Uh, Iz?" Bucky removed his hand and lent down to bring himself level with her face, clearly unsure on how to deal with the emotional wreck currently sat in front of him, but it only made her laugh harder through her tears.

"I…was…shot!" she managed to gasp out between fits of hysterical laughter. "And stabbed!" The shock washed over her as the realisation slammed into her over and over again. She was shot. She was stabbed. She was shot. She was stabbed. Over and over it went through her head until she couldn't breathe. Her fits of laughter turned to ones of panic as she grappled with her lungs to allow her to take a deep breath, but she couldn't draw air no matter how hard she tried.

"Shit, Iz. You're having a panic attack." Bucky scooped her up off of the sofa and carried her through to her bedroom, grabbing her phone off of the bed side table as he sat himself against the wall, plonking her down beside him. Fits of laughter still hissed out between her laboured breaths at the very thought that Isabelle Sullivan, the Agent who could untangle any problem in anyone else's head was having a panic attack.

"Hey yeah, Dr Cho its Bucky listen to this." Isabelle could only just distinguish her phone being shoved in front of her face through her tear stained eyes. God only knows how her exasperated attempts at taking in air mixed with the hysterical laughter also emanating from her must have sounded to Helen but it was bad enough for Bucky to put her on speaker as he pulled Isabelle onto his knees, forcing her to straddle and face him.

"Now, Bucky, speak to her, get her to listen to your voice and focus on it." through the darkness now blinding her vision she heard Helen speak, she curled forward, exhausted with the effort of staying up straight, the pressure growing in her chest - she could happily be swallowed by the darkness.

But Bucky gripped her wrists tight, refusing to allow her to ball up, forcing her face up in his direction.

"You heard Dr Cho Iz, you're not here alone I'm here with you. Just watch my lips as they move – time your breathing with them, in and out. Its all in your mind Iz, your lungs are more than capable of taking a full breath." He took a deep breath and released it, encouraging her to copy him.

When she wouldn't comply as the dizzying darkness clouding her vision made her fight harder to pull away from him, he dropped her wrists and grabbed her face with both hands, cementing her forehead in place against his own. "Breathe Izzy, breathe. just follow my lead." Through her oxygen deprived tears she forced her mouth to form an 'O' shape and the next time he took in a deep breath she copied.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

Slowly, after what felt like an eternity her breathing began to calm down.

"Good, good, now when she's ready let go of her and let her take whatever shape is comfortable for her - and keep comforting her! I'll be over soon."

Isabelle held onto Bucky's arms to support herself as her chest rose and fell in time with his. They stayed like that for a while, Bucky coaxing her to keep breathing with him, not letting her face pull away from his own. As her breathing settled completely and her eyes had begun to clear from the darkness she finally forced herself to look up at him, but his own eyes were shut as his right thumb had absently begun to stroke her cheek. This small intimate movement was enough to bring her round to the reality of her situation.

"Bucky," the word came out as barely more than a whisper but it was enough to stir him, his eyes flew open as he gave her face the once over like he had done earlier. She had never realised how blue his eyes were until now, their noses were barely a centimetre apart and she could feel his warm breath tickling her lips. Those deep blue eyes stared back into her own, searching. What for? She didn't know, but she found herself wanting to be closer to him suddenly - if that was even possible with their current proximity. Catching herself mentally before she did something stupid she admonished herself for the position she was putting herself in. He was under her protection, such thoughts were absurd.

"Bucky." she spoke a little louder this time, he stirred from his mesmerised gaze and pushed their faces apart, looking her up and down once more. When he looked satisfied that she had calmed down he let go of her face, allowing her to crumple forward against his chest. Just as his hands came down to rest on her back she rolled off and away from him, pressing herself against the corner of the room.

"Iz-"

"Go, please Bucky."

"But Dr Cho said-"

"Please Bucky I'm begging you can you just leave, its bad enough I'm in this state never mind with you witnessing it." She closed her eyes and hugged herself, she felt embarrassed to be called an Agent of SHIELD right now - she certainly wasn't acting like one, not only had she just completely embarrassed herself with her hysterics she had also basically drooled like a lovesick puppy all over Bucky. Isabelle didn't do relationships. Oslo had ended any notion she had ever felt for wanting someone by her side, she was more than content to be alone - she didn't need anyone. After what felt like an age she felt movement behind her as he stood up, she sensed him walking to her bed before returning, slowly encompassing her in a warm thick blanket.

"I'll be outside Iz." He squeezed her shoulder before leaving the room, closing the door gently.

She curled up tighter, pulling the blanket over her head as more tears threatened to fall at the very thought of what had just happened.

What had just happened to her?!

o.0.o

A soft knock on the door startled Isabelle from her sleep. Pushing the blanket down off of her body she grabbed around for her phone on the floor beside her to check the time. 4.26pm. She had slept for a little over an hour.

"Who is it?" she called out as she straightened out her clothes and attempted to brush her tousled hair flat with her fingers.

"It's me." Helens voice floated through the door.

Oh, shit. The memory came flooding back of the events of that afternoon, Isabelle cringed at the mere thought.

The door opened slowly as Helen poked her head in. "Mind if I join you?"

"Be my guest." Isabelle signalled to her bed as she flopped back down onto the floor, covering her face with her hands. What had come over her?

"Izzy its completely normal, don't for a second think you're somehow weaker because of it." Helen had ignored her bed completely and settled on the floor beside her.

"You should of seen me Helen I was a state." Isabelle swallowed before carrying on, trying her best to get rid of the lump in her throat. "One minute I was laughing because Bucky said something stupidly funny, then next thing I know the words 'I was shot' and 'I was stabbed' are blinding my vision and my mind and I-I"

"Couldn't control it." Helen finished for her, she peaked through her hands to see Helen's concerned face staring back. "It was always going to happen Izzy, you've never once seen a psychologist after any of your missions, I mean, after the whole situation in Oslo-"

"Lets not talk about Oslo." Isabelle cut her off. She could only deal with one major issue today.

"Well anyway, this was always going to happen. You can sit down and pull apart other peoples situations and help them mend themselves - don't think I didn't hear about what you done for Steve after he was defrosted by the way." Isabelle ignored her pointed stare as best she could. "But you have to start talking to someone, every Agent does it – even Natasha and Clint."

"What?!" Isabelle bolted upright, skeptically staring at Helen. "Natasha and Clint speak to the shrinks?"

"Yes, they speak to psychologists, quite often actually – especially after you were nearly killed. Seeking help isn't a dirty word Isabelle. It's about time you started talking."

Isabelle had been completely taken off guard by the knowledge that Natasha and Clint actually spoke to the shrinks supplied by SHIELD. She always thought they just toughened it out – she thought all Agents did. She had never entertained the idea of talking stuff out with people – she never thought she needed it.

"I suggest you book an appointment with someone soon Izzy, for your own sake – for now it seems your brain has, in its own way accepted what has happened to you which explains the panic attack." Helen stood up, pulling Isabelle up with her and into a tight embrace. "But that doesn't mean you don't seek help in the future, you will need to talk about this with someone, it won't go away."

Another sharp knock once again hit her door announcing Bucky's presence as he warily stuck his head in. She avoided his eyes as he threw the question to the room. "Anyone fancy pizza?"

"No thank you Bucky, I really have to be going it was just a flying visit on my way home, but Izzy could be doing with a decent feed." Helen threw him her trademark bedazzling smile.

He nodded wordlessly before leaving, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him.

"Please don't tell anyone about this Helen." Isabelle pleaded.

"Lucky for you I'm stuck by the code of medical confidentiality." Helen grinned at her before turning serious again. "But I mean it, I expect to see your name in Dr McRoberts appointment book in the near future."

Nodding once Isabelle followed Helen out to see her off at the door. Once she was gone she closed it slowly, resting her head against it as she let the cool surface lower the burning temperature of her face.

"We can pretend it didn't happen – if that's easier for you." She turned to see Bucky perched on top of the kitchen counter, tossing an orange from one hand to the other, looking anywhere but at her.

"Thank you, for what you done Bucky, I don't know what came over me I'm never normally like that it just-"

"Came out of nowhere."

"Wow everyone loves finishing my sentences for me today." She grumbled as she walked over, snatching the orange mid air before beginning to peel it.

"Sorry." He smiled as he carried on. "You don't have to say thank you, I thought I done a lousy job. I panicked and phoned Dr Cho. I had to have her tell me what to do." He picked up another orange and proceeded to toss that one back and forth in place of the one Isabelle was now eating. "I felt completely useless, my experience in comforting people has been a bit slack the last few decades."

"You weren't useless, you did help, in fact you helped a lot." Her words once more barely came out in more than a whisper. He stopped throwing the orange long enough to give her a curt nod before continuing on again. Isabelle finished her orange in silence, content to get some natural sugar into her – she realised once again she hadn't eaten all day.

"What pizza did you order?" she asked, walking to the bin and ditching her orange peels.

"Stupid question." He grinned. "I messaged Steve, he recommended I get us the Meat Feast Deluxe, he said it was your favourite."

"You only ordered one?" she tried to hide the disappointment in her voice.

"Don't be silly Iz, I ordered two." he moved to say something else when the doorbell went. Setting the orange carefully back in the fruit bowl he hopped off of the counter, grabbed the money that was sat on the side and headed for the door. "I'll grab the pizza, you can get the beer."

With pizza to look forward to Isabelle walked over to the fridge and grabbed two bottles of beer, taking them over to the sofa as she loaded up Netflix.

By the time Bucky had come back she had settled on continuing with her binge of watching of Full House. Joining her, he handed one of the large pizza boxes to her before opening his own. Once he was content with a slice firmly in his hands he looked up at the television as the title sequence finished and a young John Stamos playing the loveable rogue Jesse Katsopolis flashed up on the screen, running around the Tanner household calling out for his niece, Michelle.

"What is this?" Bucky questioned, his confusion and revulsion shown clearly on his face.

"Just every young girl's first male crush back in the nineties." Isabelle winked at him as he continued to stare.

"Really? Him? But his style is so… messy?" Bucky scrunched up his nose as if trying to comprehend what women saw in him.

"Oh, have mercy!" Isabelle called out in her best imitation of Jesse. She descended into a fit of laughter as Bucky rolled his eyes before shovelling more pizza into his mouth.

"It's times like these I miss the Forties." he grumbled.