~Frederick County, Maryland~

"Hands up," Bucky repeated for the third time. "Protect your face."

Right, Kim thought, resetting her feet as she lifted her fists once more. Right.

Angling his head downward, Bucky brought his hands to chest level. "Again," he said, just before striking at her head with his right hand, a move she quickly deflected with her forearm.

"Good."

Then he struck low with the same hand, and Kim, focusing on keeping her elbows in, shifted her arm down to block him from hitting her gut.

"Better," he praised, taking a step back, "much better."

Kim's eyes remained locked with his as she continued to circle him slowly, trying to anticipate his next move. It wasn't just his impressive build and bionic arm that made him such a daunting opponent. He was also good—really good—at concealing his intent, a testimony to the decades of fighting experience he had over her. But sparring over the past few months had improved not only her reflexes, but also her ability to read the clues conveyed in even the most subtle shifts in his body language. Eyeing him carefully, she looked for a mere twitch of the eye; a clench of the jaw; anything that would suggest a hint at his next move.

Know your enemy, she recalled his words to her, feeling another bead of sweat drip down her temple. Know them better than you know yoursel—

Catching the barest purse of his lips, Kim instinctively ducked as his metal arm swung at her head and, seeing that his side was temporarily exposed, struck out with a quick jab that elicited a low grunt from him. Pulling back, she reset her fighting stance, keeping her senses on high alert.

Narrowing his eyes, it was only a split second before Bucky charged right at her.

There was no time to think. Stomping down hard with her right foot, she bounced back twice to give herself some distance, blocking a strike at her chest before launching herself to his left. He turned sharply, though, delivering a blow to her lower back that had her grimacing in pain.

"Ungh!" She groaned, stumbling a few steps before planting her foot down. Turning, she caught sight of his furrowed brow, but then exhaled roughly as she rushed him again, throwing another firm jab at his shoulder. He blocked it, though, and just as she was about to follow through with a cross-punch, Bucky shifted his footing, and her eyes went wide when his metal fist slammed directly into her side.

"AAGH!" She cried out, dropping to a knee as she clutched the source of her pain. Shit, she mentally hissed, waiting for the throb to ebb.

She sensed him kneeling beside her. "Kim."

Hearing the edge of concern in his voice gave her something to focus on. It took a moment, but the waves of pain began to subside a bit, and she pulled in a deep breath before blowing it out through her lips.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," she managed to wheeze, then lifted her eyes to his, seeing that he'd hardly even broken a sweat during their workout. "You're holding back."

He arched an eyebrow. "Do we need to have this conversation again?"

"I know, but—" she groaned, wincing as she shifted her aching torso, "you're the one who said I need to be prepared for anything; that HYDRA will never show mercy. You know I can take a hit, so how am I gonna learn to protect myself if you keep half-assing it with me?"

"And if I were to go full-strength and break one of your ribs in the process?" He countered patiently. "If I were to injure you in a way that requires you to go to the emergency room, then what? Do you want to explain to your friends what really happened? Or do you have enough excuses lined up to keep hiding the truth?"

She stared at him, those grey-blue eyes incredibly steady as the quiet lingered between them. Something about them always had such a calming effect on her, allowing her mind to clear, to really think things through. He had a valid point: it wasn't like she could keep an unexpected stint in the hospital a secret from Stark; Dr. Bishop probably had the guy on speed dial, knowing how chummy they were. And if Steve ever caught wind of something like that...

Exhaling audibly, she lowered her gaze from his. No. The last thing they needed was a screw-up like that to raise the suspicions of certain members of the Avenger's team. At the same time, however, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment.

"This is not about holding you back," he said. "You're getting stronger, Kim; I see the growth in your abilities every single day, and as such, I have to modify my methods in order to keep challenging you. To be honest, I'm surprised you were still standing after that blow to the back. Pretty sure I bruised your kidney."

That got a harsh laugh out of her, breaking the tension in her mind a little bit. Then she felt his fingers beneath her chin, tilting her eyes up until they met his. "But I need you to understand where I'm coming from: some of HYDRA's tactics bordered on torture, and while that can force you into survival mode, it also has the potential to result in long-term psychological damage. That's not the kind of exposure you need, and it's not how I'm going to train you."

She clenched a hand into a fist, remembering some of the gut-wrenching stories he'd told her. The pain he'd endured went so much deeper than she could comprehend, and though she wished to understand it for the sake of empathizing what he'd experienced…she knew he would never want that for her. Ever. And deep down, she could appreciate his reasoning for it.

"I swore to my sister that I would protect you at all costs, Kim, and I intend to follow through on that promise," he stood to his full height, offering his metal hand, "even if that means protecting you from me."

Her heart swelled at his solemn promise. Releasing a sigh, she reached out to accept his hand, letting him pull her up to her full height.

"Fighting has been an everyday part of my life; you've only been at this for a short time, but we both know what you're becoming more and more capable of. Just remember to be patient with yourself; don't let your frustrations get the better of you."

She listened, taking his words to heart, and at the same time, she smiled inwardly. Her great-uncle had come into her life such a broken man, but the subtle changes she'd seen in him over the past year had been nothing short of remarkable: the calmness that was present in his features was so different compared to the uncertainty and fear that used to perpetually haunt his eyes; the dark hair that had once been long and unruly was now being kept trimmed on a regular basis; the significantly thinner layer of stubble on his cheeks, which was due to him getting into the habit of shaving at least once a week; even his wearing that black t-shirt was a departure from his standard wardrobe, as he often wore long sleeves to keep his bionic appendage hidden. All suggesting that he was gradually becoming more and more comfortable in his own skin.

Peeling back the layers of the Winter Soldier one-by-one...seeking to become the Bucky Barnes he wanted to be…

"You got enough strength left in you?" He asked.

She lifted her arms and gave herself a stretch, assessing the lingering soreness in her side. Amazingly, it wasn't that bad. "Why? You getting tired, old man?"

The barest of smiles ghosted his lips, and he turned his head just as a breeze picked up, seeming to silently consider their surroundings in the backyard. No doubt taking in the scents in the air, the temperature, the position of the sun in the afternoon sky; anything that could possibly affect the outcome of his next decision. Such an admirable trait for the former assassin.

Then he turned to lock eyes with her, his gaze never wavering as he very distinctly said, "Leti, soldat."

Her ears perked up at that. Fly, soldier. Not a request, but a direct command.

Sergeant, she whispered to herself…Without another thought, Kim took off at a dead sprint, heading directly for the woods at the far end of the yard. She knew that Bucky would follow soon enough, a thought that had her automatically lengthening her stride.

Fly, her mind echoed, stomping her right foot down to launch herself into the encompassing shade of the trees. Fly.

It wasn't long before she heard the distinct snap of twigs behind her, and Kim stomped down hard, managing a frontward flip over a fallen tree trunk just ahead. Touching down on her right foot, she sprang forward again, catching a low branch on another nearby tree as she swung herself further out of reach and just kept running. Her acrobatic feats had definitely improved over time, which had served to amplify the complexity of her abilities. Most of Bucky's teachings were reminiscent of various parkour clips she'd seen, which made sense considering his own agility and strength. She was amazed, though, at how quickly she was picking up on these maneuvers. It hardly required any thought on her part: if she had an instinct, she simply followed it, and she could feel her confidence growing every time she practiced these techniques.

And that, she knew, was Bucky's intention: to continue renewing her confidence in herself, regardless of the seeds of doubt Aunt Laura was still trying to plant in her mind.

From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Bucky several feet off to her left, nearly matching her pace through the thickening vegetation. Glancing right, she stomped down and veered sharply in that direction, throwing her foot out to bounce again, this time high enough to actually land atop the low branch of one of the sturdier oaks. And still, she kept going, leaping to a higher branch on a neighboring tree, and then another. Another. Traversing the wooden limbs from above with a nimbleness that still surprised her, and down below, Bucky was almost a blur of movement as he swiftly followed.

Like flying, Kim mused, extending her leg as she aimed for her next landing point.

But she gasped when that very branch shook beneath her feet, Bucky having suddenly leapt up to smack it with such force that she lost her balance and slipped. Luckily, she managed to grab onto the branch with both hands, wincing at the pain that shot through her shoulders as she came to a jolting stop. Before she knew it, his hand wrapped around her ankle, trying to pull her down, but she kicked him away with as much strength as she could muster.

No! She told herself, swinging her legs to build up momentum. Once she reached her desired height, she relinquished her hold on the branch, flipping forward and going to one knee upon landing. Snatching the karambit from her belt, she immediately slashed outward, and Bucky released a grunt of discomfort when she came in contact with his right arm. Stomping down, she flipped backwards—twice—landing solidly on her feet before dropping back into a fighting stance. Her heart was pounding, her breathing heavy, and sweat dripped down her temples, but her focus remained on him, her dagger at the ready. Waiting for his next attack.

He watched the blood drip from the cut on his bicep, but didn't bother concealing the wound. Lifting his eyes to hers, she could detect the approving glimmer behind them as he inclined his head toward her. "At ease, soldier."

Releasing a slow breath, she relaxed, lowering the knife. "Well met, Sergeant."

Closing the distance between them, Bucky cupped her cheek with his left hand, bending to rest his forehead against hers. Her hand automatically wrapped around his metal wrist, and they remained that way for a time, holding onto one another as the breeze picked up around them, gently rustling the leaves overhead. He spoke quietly to her, and she nodded in reply, the Russian phrases becoming as familiar to her ears as the sound of his deep, soothing voice.

"You okay?" She finally asked, pulling back to glance at his arm.

"Yes," he assured, not objecting when her fingertips lightly touched the skin below his wound. Then something in his features hardened. "Laura?"

Kim sighed, knowing he'd be asking about their phone call that morning eventually. "She's coming out for a visit by the end of the week."

"What day?"

"Thursday, Friday?" She half-shrugged, carefully wiping the blade of her dagger on her shirt before re-sheathing it. "Didn't really specify, but she said she'll call when she's ready."

He gave a brief nod. "She still wants to discuss living here."

She snorted softly. Like hell, she thought, and not just because of Bucky. With the way Laura was still criticizing her for—well, everything, it seemed these days—the last thing she needed was a roommate like her aunt. "She really doesn't want to take no for an answer," she said calmly, shaking her head, "but there's no way I'm letting her live here. You deserve to be here more than she does."

His stony gaze remained, but then there was a softening in his eyes as his other hand briefly covered her left shoulder. Kim smiled knowingly: his affinity for her tattoo had hardly waned over the past few months, and she never tired of seeing his reaction to it.

"That's enough for today," Bucky said, kissing her forehead. "Come on."

"Yeah," Kim agreed, and as he draped an arm around her shoulders, she felt that familiar sense of protection emanating from him as he led her back towards the house.

Splashing one last handful of water onto her face, Kim released a long, slow breath. Easy, she soothed herself, lifting her head to stare at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. It had certainly been one of the more intense workouts he'd ever given her, but it hadn't been at Bucky's insistence. It had been at hers.

And in truth, it had little to do with Aunt Laura.

Watching the water droplets drip down her skin, Kim's thoughts inevitably drifted back to Steve, to that last conversation they'd had a week ago. Everything surrounding the altercation with Ultron had been enough to keep her anxious for days, especially with the implication that the homing device in her prosthetic could potentially put her in serious danger. On top of that, she'd been worried sick about her friends, and from what Steve had explained, it was clear that despite their victory, those events had taken a serious toll on everyone involved.

But these were not the thoughts at the forefront of her mind. No; it was something else Steve had said to her after the fact that bothered her more than anything.

I can't help but feel that this is building up to something bigger than any of us realize.

She'd repeated those words to herself over and over again, and even now her brow furrowed slightly. Something about the way he'd said that—the certainty in his voice—had struck her in a way she hadn't expected. Building up to something bigger…Considering his experiences, she knew it wasn't just speculation on his part, and that was what worried her.

We're going to do our damndest to make sure that we're ready. That much I can promise you…

Not just you, she'd silently vowed. And that was why she'd asked Bucky to intensify her training yet again, which he'd agreed to without question. It hadn't been easy for her to sit at home while the battle of Sokovia raged on, watching live footage on T.V. and desperately waiting for any updates on her friends. The same could be said for Bucky, who'd been right beside her the entire time, his metal hand grasping hers as he searched for any sign of Steve's whereabouts in all the commotion. It didn't matter that the hand holding hers was bionic; through his touch, he conveyed the same emotions raging within Kim's heart at that moment. Fear. Regret. Despair. And then as the city began to fall before their eyes…

Helpless. That's how she'd felt when Sokovia was plummeting back to Earth, doom all but certain until the Avengers had managed to pull that last ploy to destroy the city in midair. There was only one other time Kim could ever remember feeling consumed by such helplessness: the night she'd tried to kill herself. While not entirely the same, there were familiar elements summoning those memories within her, the worst being that undeniable feeling that she'd been swallowed whole. She couldn't struggle, couldn't breathe; could only close her eyes and scream internally as that darkness slowly overtook her mind.

It was a feeling she never wanted to experience again, and thankfully, Bucky was more than willing to provide her with an escape. A chance to feel like there was so much more she could do than just sit on the sidelines while chaos ensued around them. Even if all they did was spar in their backyard…well, at least she knew what she was becoming more and more capable of, and because of him, she was growing stronger mentally and physically.

Not helpless, she thought, reaching for her towel. Not anymore…

Dabbing her face dry, Kim sighed heavily, tossing the towel aside and grabbing the hem of her shirt with one hand. Angling her body in the mirror, she eased up the fabric so she could examine the bruise that Bucky's punch had left on her lower back. Surprisingly, it wasn't as bad as she was expecting; just a slight dark mark no bigger than a walnut, one that would most likely fade in a few days. Still a hint of soreness, but that was typical.

Still toughening me up, she mused, pulling the shirt over her head. Man, speaking of toughness...It had been interesting to see the physical transformation she'd made over the past year, and standing there in her black sports bra, she couldn't help but notice her physique once more. Running had definitely strengthened her legs and kept her lean, but combining that with the fight training was having a clear impact on the overall definition of her muscles. Her biceps; the curves of her shoulders; the deepening cut of her abs. More and more, she was looking like someone who could eventually participate in some of those fitness competitions she'd heard about.

Except I'd have an unfair advantage being trained by a super-soldier, she thought wryly. And there's no way in hell I'm using that disgusting tanning spray—

In her pocket, her iPhone buzzed, and as she pulled it out to check the screen, she immediately opened Emma's text. First thing that came up was an image she'd attached: a black and white photo of four of the Howling Commandos, two sleeping back to back while the other two—Bucky and Steve—stood vigil. Kim smiled, reading the message below it.

Found this in a new textbook I was leafing through. Thought you might enjoy it.

She certainly did. Emma was really good at finding photos of the Commandos she hadn't seen before, and seeing that image of Bucky now…the unmistakable youthfulness that he seemed to emit…There was something so calming about the quiet dignity in her uncle's features, and the longer she stared at it, the stronger that feeling grew.

A good man, she thought to herself. You always were, Buck, and you always will be. No matter who tries to tell you otherwise.

Thanks, Emma, she texted back. Then, after a moment, added, Call you later?

Not more than a minute passed before she replied. Of course. Class in session now, but can talk after 8.

Good, she thought, texting an affirming response. The great thing about Emma was that she offered her a much needed female perspective on so many things, something Kim had come to greatly appreciate in her grandmother's absence. As such, Emma had a tendency to have as much of a calming effect on her as Bucky did, and having her become so involved in both their lives had just felt so natural. So right. And the quiet attraction that continued to develop between Bucky and Emma with each passing day was something that truly warmed Kim's heart. She couldn't imagine anyone more deserving of his affections than her.

A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. "Kim? You okay?"

"Yeah," she answered, her eyes scanning her bruises in the mirror a second time, "just gotta get changed."

"You hungry?"

She felt herself smile. God, when wasn't she anymore? "You bet your sweet ass, Sergeant!"

A distinct chuckle could be heard through the door. "I'll make us something, okay?"

Hot Pockets, she smirked to herself. It was such a go-to for him. "Alright; I'll be down in a few."

Hearing his footsteps descend the stairs, Kim glanced at the digital image on her phone once more. She tilted her head, curious as to what thoughts might have been going through Bucky's mind right at that particular moment. Would he even have any recollection of that day? Would it take time for him to remember? As usual, there was only one way to find out. Pocketing her phone, she draped her shirt over her shoulder, exiting the bathroom and making her way towards her bedroom to change.