Disclaimer: I own nothing Captain America-related, not even Bucky Barnes…though I might consider asking Marvel to loan them and the rest of the Avengers to me for a while. Until then, only original characters and plots/ideas are mine.

AN: Here's the next chapter, with a bit more bonding between the two. Enjoy, and please don't forget to review. Thanks!

Chapter 6: Open Doors:

After their first meeting, there was, as Anna expected, a lot of tiptoeing around in the days that followed Bucky moving in.

While they had somewhat developed a quiet sort of understanding, there was still a great deal that they didn't know about one another.

'To start with, I know nothing about him, other than what I've read in the files Coulson provided,' she thought to herself as she stared at her computer screen.

It would help if she knew things she felt were important, such as his likes and dislikes; his favorite foods; and more importantly, a way of telling whether or not he was going to fly off the handle and start wrecking the place.

That last one was probably the most important.

If she could just get him to open up, even a little, it might get things flowing a bit between them. If she managed to form a small crack in the wall that stood between them, Bucky would have the opportunity to start coming out of his shell. That would be a huge step forward for him, and it would allow him to begin the long journey that lay ahead.

Sighing, Anna sat back and let her eyes drift to the wall above her computer. 'Easier said than done,' she thought with a wince.

So far, they hadn't done much. Anna had given Bucky a tour of the house, but didn't tell him about the escape routes she had planned out, or about the emergency bundles left for her by Natasha. He seemed pleased with the layout, and by the fact that he had his own room stationed on the other side of the house, away from hers.

She couldn't help but smile a little. It was touching, knowing that he was concerned for her safety.

'He's not rehabilitated yet, though,' she reminded herself. 'We've still got an enormous amount of work to be done.'

He may have been a brainwashed assassin and killer, but Anna was more than willing to take his concern for her as a good sign of things to come –well, for the moment, at least.

'But in order for us to make progress, we've got to get started.'

After giving him a tour and suggesting that he take a few days to rest, Anna had left him by the door of the theater room while she went to her bedroom to try and form a plan. That had been three days ago, and since then, they hadn't seen much of one another.

Like a number of young people, Anna liked to sleep late, often getting up after nine o'clock in the morning. By the time she went downstairs for breakfast, there were dirty dishes already stacked in the dishwasher, a faint scent of coffee in the air, and no Bucky. Clearly, her charge was an early riser.

She had tried approaching his door, if only to check on him, but she got the feeling he wouldn't answer her knock, and maybe even tell her to go away, so she simply returned to her room. She only came out to eat and stretch her legs a bit. She would have checked to see if he was hungry, but there were always some dirty dishes waiting in the sink whenever she went down for her own meals, so Bucky was clearly taking care of himself in the food department.

After her meals, Anna had started to try and work out how to help Bucky with the resources she had on hand. She had begun several different plans and ideas on how to help him, spending hours a day on them, only to delete them and start again.

Today was no exception, except for the fact that instead of working out a plan, she was letting her brain drift towards where they were at and how they were living.

They were in a good neighborhood, with a nice space between houses for privacy, and a yard in the front and back of the house. While neither yard was very large, it was nice to have a bit of greenery to look at.

It was while she was staring out her window, her eyes gazing into the backyard, that Anna realized that she and Bucky were in a weird sort of situation. As great as this place was, the house was basically a prison, an idea that had started to anger her at first, until she realized that Natasha and Agent Coulson hadn't specifically ordered her and Bucky to remain indoors all the time.

Still, they couldn't be risked going out, not when Bucky was practically a wanted man by a lot of world governments. Secrecy would have to be their best friend for a while, at least until they felt secure enough to go outside without causing problems. That meant, in the meantime, they would have to find other ways to keep themselves occupied.

That sparked a bit of an idea inside her spinning brain. Bucky would no doubt hate being cooped up here; she needed to get him a source for exercise, or some way to burn off any excess energy that serum inside him might make.

'Taking him to a public gym would be a bad idea,' she reasoned, tapping a finger on her desk. 'He can't be exposed to crowds yet. He needs more time to adjust and get used to being around people.'

She tapped out a random rhythm on the wood, considering her options. 'There's that study downstairs. We could move the desk and stuff out, and put in a punching bag, some weights, or even a treadmill for him to run on.'

For the rest of his problems, Anna had no real idea on how to proceed. She could try a formulated approach, with everything laid and planned out, but she doubted that it would do much good. She knew what she had to teach him; she just didn't know how.

'I'm not teaching a college course to young adults. This man is violent, unpredictable, and lost, mentally and emotionally. It is clearly an entirely new and unique situation.'

Heaving another sigh, she closed her eyes and continued to tap out a rhythm on her desk. 'I'm supposed to help this poor man remember his past, and teach him to be somewhat comfortable around others. He might end up choosing a life away from civilization in the end, but as long as we live in a populated area, he's going to have to learn to stay civilized, and not be violent unless it's necessary.'

Well, since he was rather volatile, Anna figured she'd have to just wing it, doing everything on a day-by-day, situation-by-situation basis. It was rather more chaotic than how she was used to doing things, but that was how things were, then she'd change along with it.

Right now, though, she needed to get Bucky to come out of his room and talk to her.

Pacing his room, Bucky struggled to keep himself together. He ached to get out and do something, but didn't dare take the risk –there was a chance he would forget himself and end up hurting or killing Anna, who did not deserve it. As much as he wanted to reform himself, the idea of hurting another person was not an appealing one.

So, for the past several days, Bucky had locked himself away in his room as much as possible. He only left to stretch his legs, and get something to eat from the kitchen, which was remarkably easy, since Miss Anna Wallace kept to her room as much as he did with his. So, keeping his stomach full was a breeze.

Keeping himself from boredom, however, was something else entirely.

There were some books he had brought with him, gifts from Agent Barton and Director Coulson, but he had already finished two of them. He had tried exercising by pacing the room, doing pushups, and even filling his duffle bag with heavy objects and lifting it with one or both arms, to keep up his strength.

By now, he was getting stir-crazy. If he didn't do something soon, he would probably end up putting a fist through a wall.

And, dare he say it: he was actually feeling a bit lonely.

That last thought completely surprised him -in all the years he had served HYDRA, he had never actually felt alone or lonely. Every time he had been sent out on a mission, he had been so focused on the task at hand that he'd never felt much emotion, or thought of anything other than his mission. He hadn't had time to feel the loss of companionship or the desire to be around others.

Even on the missions where he had been with a group of fighters, he hadn't had any longing to become friends or make 'friendly conversation' with them. They'd all had work to do, and idle chit-chat had not been an option for any of them. The only thing they talked about was their assignment; nothing more.

But things were different now, and though he was reluctant to admit it, Bucky could feel himself slowly becoming human again. It seemed that his old self was beginning to emerge, like a tiny plant growing from a seed that had been kept in the dark for too long. That it was beginning to break through was a good sign.

Too bad it terrified him.

'Being around others means that other people will get hurt when I get upset,' he thought, insides quaking from fear and anger. 'I don't want to hurt anymore people.'

It was a vicious cycle: he wanted to be around people, but he was afraid of hurting them. That fear led to frustration, which led to anger at being alone. That only made his loneliness even deeper, which made him want to be around others. Then the whole thing went around again, a never-ending loop that just made him want to scream out loud for it to stop and for someone to do something, anything, to make it stop.

His metal hand had just clutched into a fist when a soft knock sounded on his door.

Blinking, he felt his body jerk, his anger quickly giving way to surprise, confusion, and, finally, curiosity. It was his curiosity that got the better of him, and caused his fist to unclench as he went to the door.

There stood Anna, a tentative smile on her face as she clutched a small laptop to her chest. It took a moment for him to read her –she was borderline shy/scared, but as she looked at him, there were a dozen questions in her eyes, where he also saw a glint of determination.

For a second, he felt the urge to smile at her boldness. Then it was gone, and all that remained was a confused frown and a tilt of the head as he stared at her.

"Yes?" he softly asked, attempting to be polite.

It was better than any response he had given in the past –he had simply knocked out the one who had dared disturb him as he prepared himself for a mission. He supposed this show of restraint was another step forward in his efforts to improve himself.

She appeared relieved at his answering the door, as well as the fact that he hadn't slammed it in her face. "Well, I figured that since you've had a few days to settle in, I might convince you to come downstairs. I won't keep you long, but I thought we should at least try to talk to one another."

Bucky forced himself to relax further. "That sounds good," he replied, giving her a small smile in response to her broad one.

"Great!" she quipped. "Let's go take a seat at the dining table. I'll break out some snacks, and then we can talk."

Fifteen minutes later, Bucky found himself with a glass of iced tea in his hand, and several small bowls in front of him.

One bowl had sour-cream-and-onion potato chips; another had M & M's; a third had tortilla chips and a fourth had salsa. Anna was making quick work of the chocolate as she set up the laptop, eyes darting back and forth as she clicked around the screen and opened applications. Her fingers eventually stopped and hovered above the keyboard as her eyes drifted towards him.

"Are you ready?" she asked. "I'm going to try and ask a few simple questions, but if you don't want to answer, that's fine. Let me know, and I can move on to another one, or stop."

He watched as a slightly amused smile formed on her mouth. "I know this seems clinical, like I'm a psychiatrist, but I'm not. I just want to get to know you a bit better, that's all."

Bucky hesitated. "Will I get to ask you questions, too?" After all, fair was fair. If she got to ask about him, he should be able to ask about her.

Anna nodded, as though she'd expected this. "Sure. Would you like to take notes, too? Or I can, and give you a print out later."

"No, I'll remember your answers," he said, absolutely certain in his abilities.

"Then let's get started," she said, her fingers beginning to type.

Anna knew from the start that this was going to be very touch-and-go, and that she had to stay on high alert, so that she didn't touch on a subject that Bucky didn't like, or that upset him. As her fingers typed his answers into the computer, Anna found that, more often than not, that there were a lot of empty spaces on the document she was trying to fill out.

The questions had started out simple, most of them regarding foods, colors, hobbies, and other things that Bucky might like. He did his best to answer when he could, but those were few and far between.

"This is clearly not going anywhere," Bucky finally snapped, his left hand clenching in frustration.

Anna immediately stopped typing, her fingers deftly hitting the correct keys to save the document and put the machine to sleep before putting it aside. "You're right; I'm sorry. That was a bad start. Let's move on to something else, okay?"

She watched as he took a deep, calming breath, his hand slowly relaxing as he started to cool down. When she thought he was calm enough, Anna pulled herself a little closer to him, hoping that if she showed she wasn't afraid, he would open up a bit more.

"I know how this whole thing began for you," she said. "So, let's try and pick some goals for you to meet, hmm?"

For a few tense moments, she watched an array of emotions dance across his face. There was fear, anger, frustration, hesitation, and even bashfulness as he tried to get himself together.

"I guess that sounds okay," he softly said, eyes focused on the wood of the table.

Taking a quick sip of tea, he reached with another hand towards the snack bowls, popping M&M's into his mouth in twos and threes. When his hand was empty, he took another swig of tea to wash it down.

"Well, I think that you going out in public right now would be a bad idea," she said. "However, I know that being stuck in the house would drive you up the walls with boredom."

She eyed him closely, studying his physique. Although Anna's personal experience with men was limited to the guy-friends she hung out with, she knew enough to admit that Bucky was in fantastic shape. He was in perfect shape, actually, because the serum kept his body that way.

Figuring that this might be a good time to put forward her idea about an exercise room, she asked, "How do you feel about a workout room?"

Bucky blinked at her, almost as though she'd just spoken to him in an alien language. "A what?"

"A workout room," Anna repeated. "We could clear out that back office, if you want, and move the furniture into one of our bedrooms or the theater area. I could order a punching bag, some weights, and a treadmill for you to walk or run on. And you can decorate it any way you want."

She looked at him. "What do you think?"

"But don't you want the room for anything?" he asked, disbelief written all over his face. He had peeked inside once, during the tour she'd given him, and the place was obviously decorated well, with blue drapes and paintings of beaches on the walls. It was actually quite nice –why would she allow it to be wrecked by the likes of him?

Anna simply shrugged. "I've got my own room, and while you're working out, I can read in the living room or the theater room. I'm a huge fan of movies, anyway, and it wouldn't be much of a stretch to convert the living room in a sort of library, with the extra bookshelves. You can also take the decorations down, and I'll put them up in another space, like the living room. So it's no big sacrifice, at least on my part."

The offer was tempting, but he was worried that he was taking something away from her.

"It's fine," she assured him as she began typing into her laptop again. "Now, why don't we look at some workout equipment together, so that you can pick what you want?"

It was so strange, sitting close to Anna as the two of them shopped the Internet together.

Even though the laptop's screen seemed large enough for two people seated side-by-side to look at it comfortably, Bucky couldn't help but feel uneasy as he did so with her. He did his best to keep at least a few inches of space between them, but that was difficult, since Anna tended to pull him closer so that he could get a better look at the items she had pulled up for his consideration.

It was all too intimate for him, and Bucky wasn't sure how to handle such a thing. Lucky for him, Anna seemed to take it all in stride and remained calmly professional as she asked if he liked something, and moved on to the next item on the list if he didn't.

And unlike many females he'd observed over the years, she was surprisingly business-like when it came to shopping. She even considered his opinion on something to be much higher than hers.

After a couple hours, they finished their shopping, and Anna went to start the night's supper of frozen lasagna, leaving Bucky to himself. In front of him were the receipts of the items Anna had bought for him, and he couldn't resist picking them up to look at.

The punching bag was something he had wanted to reconsider, since he'd doubted that the room would be big enough for both it and the treadmill. In the end, Anna had decided on purchasing one that was somewhat portable: it wouldn't hang from the ceiling, but could be pushed or set into a corner when he wasn't using it.

"Plus, there are treadmills that fold up and can also be put against a wall or in a corner, to give you a bit of breathing space when you're done," she'd told him. "If you ever decide to expand your exercise routine, maybe you could take up meditation or yoga. Those are supposed to be good for your body, and your mind."

Bucky had actually found those ideas funny enough to chuckle a bit, which caused Anna to pout. He'd quickly apologized, and stated that he was a long way from picking up any of those. Anna had agreed, but warned him to stay open to new ideas.

"You'll want them sooner or later, when you get tired of the same old routines," she said as she purchased a set of weights for him. "You'll see."

He knew she was right, of course, but didn't want to admit it. He did have his pride to think of.

Bored, Bucky decided that now would be a good a time as any to get to work on the study. He might as well start on the decorations, as they would be the easiest to move. Also, a spark of creativity was starting inside his head, and he wanted to see if there might be a way to put them back up after the equipment was installed, to make the walls less stark.

For the first time in decades, he felt a true glimmer of optimism, as well as an eagerness to get started on something new.

Even better, he found that he rather liked it.

AN: Review?