A/N: Aaand here we are! As always, if you notice anything weird like Steve being reasonable, or someone growing an extra arm, please let me know XD.

"Who is he?"

"He's so small."

"Look at his marks." A rustle of cloth. Soft fingers touched his arm. "He must have someone worrying about him."

"Obvious not enough to keep him from falling out that window."

Steve groaned as a sharp, throbbing ache made itself known in his body, not just in one place but everywhere. Everything hurt. His eyes flew open and he groaned as the light from a small candle burned into his eyes.

"He's awake," He felt a tug on his hand. Steve bit back a pained sound as he felt a light weight on his chest. A small girl's head poked into his field of vision. She peered down at him, a soft smile on her face. "Are you okay?" She asked cheerily, "Do you want some soup?"

Steve blinked at her, raising his hand to push her off his chest. He stopped, staring. His hand was red as if it had been dipped in paint. A sunburn, he realized. In fact, from the tight feeling of his body, it wasn't the only thing that had been exposed to the sun too long. He didn't dare wonder what it would feel like when the pain set in.

"Hush Olivia," A woman said, bending down to pick up the little girl. "He needs to rest."

"Bucky," Steve slurred, wincing as he turned his head to look at them. "Have you seen him?" He wasn't worried about Natasha. She was a Shield agent, if anything happened to her she had numerous places she could go and people who would miss her. Bucky didn't have any of those luxuries.

"Is he your soulmate?" The little girl-Olivia?-asked excitedly.

"No," Steve groaned as he pushed himself up, leaning his back carefully against the wall. "He's a friend."

"Oh." The girl wiggled from the woman's arms and onto the small bed he was lying in. "Who is your soulmate then?"

"I don't know." Steve hissed in pain as his head throbbed. "How long have I been out? Where am I?" He looked around the small shack, his heart sinking. It looked like the underground of New York's slums.

"He's awake?" An older woman peered into the room, "Does he want soup?"

"No, Ma," the first woman said. She turned her attention back to Steve, wincing in sympathy as he reached up to rub his head. "You're in our house, Papa found you lying on the ground outside a hotel baked like a lobster. You've been asleep for three days, we were getting worried, but Papa said you were probably still under the effects of whatever drug you were under."

"Drug?" Steve asked as a tall older man bustled into the room. He was dressed in a faded suit, a medical bag at his side.

"Yes," the man smiled as he put down his bag and shrugged off his jacket, "I know what a horse tranquilizer looks like when I see one. Your body took a lot of damage, you should probably try to rest."

"I need to find Bucky," Steve pushed himself up, "did you see anyone else at the hotel?"

The man shook his head, his eyes going to the glittering mark on Steve's arm. "Is there anyone you would like us to contact?" He asked gently, "A significant other? A family member?"

"No," Steve rubbed his forehead, trying to ignore the pounding ache in his temple. He looked up and noticed the golden marks on the man's arm and the older woman's. "You're soulmates?"

"Yeah," the man smiled as he took the older woman's hand, his eyes crinkling in the way people did when they were truly happy. "We just ran into each other one day. My parents weren't happy that I was marrying her, they had someone else planned for me, but they understood. It's not like they could take her away from me." He kissed her on the cheek and she pushed him away, rolling her eyes.

"Ignore Gustav," she told Steve, picking up Olivia before she could get closer, "he's a horrible romantic. Olivia gets it from him. Do you want soup?"

"I couldn't take your food." Steve managed a smile, "You've already done so much for me. You saved my life."

"Anyone would do it." The older woman waved her hand through the air, as if brushing aside the debt, "You should eat. Are you hungry?"

"Are we gonna meet your soulmate?" Olivia escaped from the older woman's arms and clambered across the bed. "You're so lucky," she crooned, yanking Steve's arm into her lap so she could examine the marks, "I wanna meet mine! I thought Kristoff from next door was mine, but then he wasn't."

Steve smiled ruefully at her enthusiasm. "I don't actually know," he admitted, "I burned my arm, and when I took the bandages off the marks were gold."

Olivia gaped at him as if he had just stated he was Hydra. "But.." She spluttered, then her lips set into a firm line, as if she had a sudden thought. She slid off the bed and ran out of the room.

"I'm sure you will find them." The younger woman smiled at him comfortingly as Olivia streaked back into the room, a crayon and a piece of a book clenched in her hand.

"Olivia," her father said, his tone deep with consternation, "is that from my medical journal?"

"This is more important!" Olivia threw her little hands into the air, "We need to make a list!" She turned to Steve, "Who have you met since you got burned?" Her tone was deadly serious and Steve smiled.

"A saleswoman," he frowned as he tried to remember, "a bartender who sold me food." He frowned as he thought about who he had actually met. The marks weren't activated from simply passing people in the hallway, you had to interact. There honestly weren't that many people who he had spoken to recently. "A tailor...A few merchants." He frowned, "I think that's it."

The girl scribbled down his answers in the margins of the paper. "It has to be the saleswoman!" She announced as she put down her marker, "You have to find her!"

Steve thought about the elderly woman who Bucky had dragged across the counter of her shop. "Erm," he muttered, "I think she didn't have a mark. I think her soulmate was dead."

"Then it was the bartender," Olivia huffed, "you have to find him!"

"That's enough," the younger woman cut in. Steve smiled as Olivia crossed her arms and pouted. He sniffed as the most wonderful smell filled the air, flushing as his stomach growled hungrily.

"Soup's ready!" The woman announced and vanished into the kitchen.

Olivia started drawing on her paper. "What does Bucky looked like?" She asked. An image flashed into Steve's mind of Bucky standing, his arm dripping blood as he stared down at Steve.

"He's got a butt chin," Steve said, "and blue eyes. His arm is a metal prosthetic."

"Hmm," She scribbled on the paper. Steve sighed and leaned his head against the headboard. It was still aching and he wondered briefly how long it would be until the pain went away. It wasn't just his head, his whole body felt achy and tight.

Olivia looked up as a knock came at the door. "I got it!" She hollered. She launched her small form off of the bed and threw open the door.

Steve's eyes flew open as she screamed. He pushed his useless body off of the bed, nearly crashing into the ground. He stopped as he registered the scene before him. Twelve men wearing black were surrounding the family, loaded guns pressed against their heads and aimed at their chests.

"Where's Steve Rogers?" One demanded.

"I'm here!" Steve said, raising his hands, "Don't shoot!"

Two men turned and pointed their guns at him. The rest stayed aimed at the family. "Let them go," Steve said in the most gentle tone he could manage, "I'll go peacefully."

The men looked at each other warily, as if suspecting a trap. Steve didn't know why it's wasn't like he could pose a threat to them. One unlocked a pair of handcuffs from his belt. It was a pair of those magnetic ones, made for people like Bucky who had super strength. Steve frowned, normal metal ones would have done. He didn't put up a fight as two soldiers cuffed his hands and led him from the room, the rest remaining with their guns trained on the family. Steve caught one look at Olivia's tear-streaked face before the door slammed shut and they walked into a darkened hallway.

The first shot rang out like the crack of firework. Screams rang out from the small house, high and low, young and old. Steve stopped, his heart thudding in his chest as the next shot rang out. "No!" He threw himself against his captor's grip. "You can't! They're innocent!" The third shot rang out and then the final crack sliced through the air. The screams stopped. Steve lunged forward against his captor's grip, trying desperately to get back into the house. His limbs felt heavy, and his throat burned as he yelled. He didn't know what he was saying, only that he wanted them to stop, for the family to live. Perhaps he was only screaming. He slumped forwards, his lips going limp. Out of the corner of his eye saw one of the soldiers withdraw a needle from his arm. His vision blurred and he groaned as he stumbled, pain lancing through his body as he hit the ground.

A/N: So. That's that. Let me know what you think :) Happy Holidays!