Now back to the Winter Soldier, the one from the movie. It's been two days since the Winter Soldier had broken into the Old Folks Home and also had his near suicide attempt. This is when he finds the address of where his family lives, finally reuniting with his sister.****

Brother and Sister Out of Time

The Winter Soldier followed the street address, taking a bus leading outside of Washington D.C. to Virginia and finally arrived in a more neighborhood-like place. He kept his disguise and carried his equipment in a large duffle bag. Cap on, head down, he finally stepped off the bus and started walking. He found a nearby motel and rented a room with a stolen credit card.

The next night, he went to the house. He was dressed in his black outfit, also wearing his black jacket to hide his metal arm, to stay hidden in the dark, but only carried a gun and knife for precaution. He had to watch the house until it was dark. From the distance, he had seen a car pull out of the garage, which he saw was driven by Maisie's mother (who was dressed up, for a date, perhaps). After a while, at half past nine, the lights inside turned off.

Sneaking into the house, he jumped like an acrobat across the walls and reached the second story window of the house. The window was dark. Very gently, careful not to make any noise, the Soldier opened the window wide enough for him to slip through, feet first, and landed noiselessly into a bedroom.

A child's bedroom. The corners had stuffed animals, dolls, scattered papers full of coloring pictures and school work, and a rocking chair. A kit full of colorful rubber bands lay scattered on the carpet. Those rainbow bands reminded him of someone...

He heard soft breathing, and slowly turned to his left. A little girl was there in her bed, sleeping quietly, unconsciously snuggling to her pillows while her blanket was pulled back, revealing her pink pajamas, and her teddy bear at the foot of her bed. She must have dropped it while sleeping. Her hair was loose of their braids, but her arm still had her rainbow set of bands.

Maisie. The Winter Soldier felt this old, familiar feeling come back when the last time it felt alien: warmth. He quietly sat on the window sill as he watched her sleep, almost wishing she would wake up with that bright, glowing smile of hers. She looked so small, so peaceful...He very quietly leaned over and used his good hand to pull the covers back over her, and used his metal hand to pick up the bear, which was soft and plushy against his sensors, and placed it next to her head. His gloved metal hand was so close to her face that he can almost touch it-he wanted to, remembering how her little hands felt against his metal arm; how delicate, warm, and gentle they were-but he held himself back. He couldn't wake her up. She could never know he was here...at least, that was the plan. Seeing her sleeping face made him wonder about how she can look so peaceful.

Because she was good. Because she was loved. Not just by her family...but by also himself, he realized. It made her the most beautiful child he had ever seen. If anything happened to her...No, nothing bad will happen to her, he would make sure of it. He would protect her as long as he stayed out of her life, stayed out of contact. After he saw his sister, Rebecca. One glimpse, that was all he needed.

After one last look at Maisie, metal hand gripping the bear briefly, he stood up and crept out of the room, opening her door and into the hallway before closing it. There was the sound of a TV on in the living room downstairs and the sound of a girl's voice speaking. Just peeking out from behind the wall over the bannister, he saw a young woman seated there on a sofa, watching TV and was talking on the phone with most likely a friend. She looked to be in her late teens or early twenties, wearing PJ shorts and a T-shirt, her long brown hair loose with blond highlights, eyes blue, and from her long, athletic legs down to her ankle was a butterfly tattoo. He remembered Maisie's mother in the museum mentioning an "Aunt Kimberly" to Maisie. Kimberly, Rebecca's granddaughter. My grandniece. So Maisie's aunt was here, but not her father, most likely Kim's older brother, Scott.

While Kim looked distracted, the Winter Soldier kept walking down the hallway until he found another door creaked open slightly with light coming through. His pulse increased as he neared the door and peered through it...and felt an intake of his breath. A small lamp was on, but on the bed sleeping was an old woman, who must have drifted off in the middle of reading an album full of photos. Certain she was out, he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. She looked to be in her eighties, her hair white with a tinge of gray to indicate that she once had dark hair, her skin wrinkled with age, but...as she slept peacefully, there were hints of beauty there that had been obvious when she had been young.* Her cheekbones, her jaw, the shape of her forehead beneath the curls of her fading hair...they were so similar to his own features that he knew instantly, like long-lost memories that had suddenly resurfaced the moment he saw her face. He remembered the little girl who had been his little sister...then when their parents had passed away, shortly after Steve's mother had...Becca was fourteen, wearing a white dress and carrying her suitcase, and was sitting next to her older brother, Bucky, in a taxi cab. She was looking out the window, upset, while Bucky couldn't stand her silence, especially when she had once been so energetic, fun, and talkative...until their parents had both been recently killed at a trip in Hawaii, at Pearl Harbor, when the Japanese attacked. They had been in a base training camp-their father a soldier and their mother a nurse. Bucky had been in an art class with Steve when they heard that America was at war. And not long after, when he and Steve were training and talking about joining the army, he and Becca had received the news. It had been a blow for both of them, but through his grief, almost immediately after the funeral, Bucky and Steve had enlisted in the Army (Steve failed, but Bucky passed). Becca was being sent to live with their aunt in Indiana to attend a Girl's Academy.

"I heard the school's great," he tried, "even if its just for girls. And you'll be with Aunt Ida-"

"How can you say that?" Becca whispered. She still wouldn't look at him. "Don't even try to pretend that everything is going to be alright, Jim! Just don't!"

"Then talk to me!" exclaimed Bucky in frustration."Rebecca, I know that nothing's going to be same, since Ma and Pops...but you can't shut me out like this. Not now. I'm your brother."

"Exactly!" She finally faced him. There was angry tears in her eyes. "It's not just about Mama and Poppa, or about this stupid school you and Aunt Ida are forcing me in!" Bucky winced, but she continued, her voice breaking, "You're my brother, my family! You're old enough to be my legal guardian. I could have stayed here in Brooklyn with you...but you had to get yourself enlisted! All you want to do is go to war! The war that killed our parents!" Tears ran down her face, her lip trembling. "They left us...and now you are leaving me, too!"

"Becca! I..." he stammered, loss for words, but she turned away again.

As the cab stopped at the train station, and as they unloaded the cases, Bucky could feel his little sister's pain, his own guilt, and the desperation to find her comfort. Steve, who was also part of their family, had already been there with them at the funeral and had said good-bye to Rebecca before they left. Steve had made it his mission to keep trying to get enlisted until he was accepted, though Bucky had doubts about his best friend's physical condition and, being always overprotective, secretly hoped he had a better chance of staying out of the war. Steve was like his little brother and, like always, Bucky didn't want anything bad happening to him. Bucky was just getting started, though he had to make sure his sister was safely transported before he moved to camp. Like Steve had felt about his own parents, Bucky had felt that it had been the best way to honor his mother and father's deaths, follow in his father's footsteps, and bury his grief while serving his duties as a soldier. His biggest regret was that he hadn't considered what his decision would do to Rebecca, his baby sister, whom he loved more than anything in this world. But there was no going back now. Not until this war was over.

As they waited for the train, Bucky took his sister's arm. "Can you look at me, sis?" he said softly.

"Why?" she said, turning around, though her eyes still looked anywhere but at him.

Bucky was silent for a moment, swallowed hard, and then said hoarsely, "Becky...I don't know what else to do. I'm so sorry that I'm putting you in this position. I know it-it was selfish of me for not coming to you before joining...and then sending you away...but you know I can't take care of you. I can't give you the things you need. This is the best way I know how to do it, and...and you can hate me all you want, but..." He took both her arms and leaned down to catch her eyes. "You're my little sister. Both you and Steve are the only family I have left, not counting Aunt Ida, and I would do anything to make sure you are taken care of, for you to be happy again. But I need to do this. Not just because all the men are getting drafted, but because...I just need this."

Becca finally looked up at him, her eyes shining. "I wish I could come with you," she whispered.

Bucky smiled sadly. "No, you don't."

"Do you remember when we were younger," she said, looking distant, "when you, me, and Steve used to play Nazi tag all the time? You would catch me, hold me upside down until I yielded...but I never would. I wish things were just like that again."

"Me, too." Bucky nodded. "'Barnes never yield.' Remember?"

"Yes, always." Then Becca smiled. "Why can't I ever stay mad at you, Bucky Jim?"

He shrugged, smirking. "It always the other way around for me with you, sis."

Then the sound of the train whistled and arrived. Everyone started getting on and loading the luggage. Becca looked scared. "I don't know if I can do this," she said, trembling. "I have no idea how...what if those girls..."

Bucky took her by the shoulders. "You're going to be fine," he assured her. "You are beautiful, smart, and funny. Those girls are going to love you, and frankly, I'm bit jealous." She hit him playfully, and he grinned. "See? All you needed was a little push."

Then she looked away, looking sad again, but he took her face in his hands and whispered, "Everything is going to okay, Beck. Alright? I promise. I'll write to you every week. I'll even make Steve put a word in."

"But what if you don't...Jimmy, I'm afraid that you won't come back," she croaked. "You can't make promises in war. I don't know what I'd do-" She broke off as Bucky pulled her into a fierce hug. He felt her arms wrap around his neck, and remembered how she always did that when she was a little girl, when he carried her around when she was happy, sad, or tired. He felt his heart breaking. He was going to miss her hugs. She was still a little girl to him now. She would always be his little sister.

"I love you," he croaked, voice cracking, feeling his eyes mist up as he hugged her. "So much. You'll remember that, won't you?"

Her arms tightened around him. "I love you, too," she wept softly. "Just come back safely...and take it easy on the gals. Leave some for Steve."

Bucky laughed, as they pulled from the hug, and he told her, "As long as you promise me to look out for yourself. Remember what I taught you about throwing a proper punch."

"Girls don't fight, Jimmy," she said, wiping her tears. "You know Mama and Poppa had always hated it when you fought. Worse when they caught us practicing..."

"I know, but...you might see some guys, and...I don't want them laying their hands on you. I won't be around to teach them a lesson." She scoffed, but he looked serious. "I mean it, sis! It's not funny. I want you safe. You have to promise me you'll protect yourself. It would really help me sleep better. Promise me."

"Alright, I promise." Becca smiled. "Goodness, won't Aunt Ida be surprised? You don't have to worry about me, Bucky Jim. Worry about yourself. And Steve. Take care of each other, will you?"

"We always do." Bucky then helped carry her luggage to the train man. Before she stepped aboard and went away, they hugged again and he kissed the top of her head, and pinched her chin affectionately, saying to her, "I'll see you soon, okay? Make me proud."

Becca smiled sadly. "Barnes never yield," she said. "Never yield, brother."

And Bucky Barnes had watched his kid sister leave on the train, waving good-bye to him in tears from the window, off to the Girl's Academy in Indiana, while he was off to war with Steve Rogers. That had been the last time he had ever seen her...up until now. No longer the pretty young girl, barely entering womanhood, whom he practically raised, played with, and cried with, but an old woman who had moved on, got married, started a family, and had lived a long life. Back in 1945, when the war was finally over, her brother never came home. Both of her brothers never came home.

Becky. Bucky-the Winter Soldier-sat on the chair next to the bed, looking at her at she slept while he picked up the open album she had been looking at before she drifted off. He started flipping through the pages, and found pictures of members of her family, her handwriting written beneath each photo. It was a scrapbook, which had old movie tickets, ribbons, and news ads taped in the corners from the past. Here were multiple black and white pictures of Becca when she was a little girl, one photo of the entire Barnes' family (himself as a kid in his preteens, his mother, father, and Becca as a toddler) on the docks of Coney Island, one picture of him and Steve as kids both smiling goofily, and Becca in her late teens and graduation gown, posing with other girls her age from the Girls Academy, smiling, including one with the clean-dressed Aunt Ida.

Then there were pictures of her and her husband, John Proctor (who looked about her age, friendly enough), getting married not long after she graduated, and around twenty pictures of their married life together, including having two little boys during the late fifties (who were both dead, he remembered the old man from the home care saying) named John, Jr., and James (After me, he guessed). Then the pictures started gaining color, as the two boys grew into men. John, Jr., got married to a woman named Marie, while James became a pilot in the U.S. Navy Force.

Then there were child pictures, John and Marie becoming the parents of Scott and Kimberly Proctor. As Scott became a teenager and Kim a young girl, the Winter Soldier could now see a little bit why the old man thought he was Scott. Though the kid was blond (like his daughter, Maisie) and had shorter hair, he had the same jaw and same blue eyes as his own. And it looked like he was around the same height. He looked happy as well (making it hard to believe he ever touched a drug), standing next to his father and sister (he wondered what happened to the mother). There was also a picture of Scott and Maisie's mother, whose name was Rachel, getting married, both looking very young, but happy. There were no more pictures of John Proctor, Sr., but there was a picture of an elderly Becca sitting down next to a tired-looking Rachel, laughing while cradling a tiny baby who looked only days old. It was Maisie. More of Maisie grew as a toddler, some of them with her grandparents and one with her father, who was sleeping on a couch with her sprawled across him, but then there were no more pictures of John, James, or Marie. Nor were there of Scott. There was more of Maisie, though, growing until reaching kindergarden, wearing her rainbow hair ties, standing near a college with her Aunt Kimberly, blowing out candles on her sixth birthday, and even had a school picture with that glowing smile he loved. The last was of her posing next to the Captain America exhibit.

That was the end. By the time he had finished, he felt a lump in his throat. This scrapbook was his whole family, the family he never knew he had. While he had been assassinating and hibernating in the cold chambers of Hydra for decades, his family had been thriving, the evidence clear in this scrapbook. Even when he had "died," the Soldier couldn't believe how well his sister had outdone herself. The last name Barnes would die with him now.

"Who are you?" The soft, croaky voice was enough to shock him as his head snapped up, and saw that Rebecca was looking right at him with wide eyes. "What are you doing with that? Are you robbing me?" She sat up, but the effort made her lie back down. "Young man...if you even try to take anything, I'll-I'll scream."

Becca, no! His eyes darted to the lamp, then to the window behind him...if he could turn off the lamp, open the window and slip out-he could probably get out before she would scream...but what was stopping him? Why was he hesitating? He started to stand up.

Becca managed to prop herself up and held up a trembling hand before her frightened face. "Don't come near me," she whimpered, and he stopped. God, he ached, seeing her be so afraid of him. She clearly didn't recognize him yet. Slowly, he placed the scrap book on her bed and then knelt to the floor, at the bed's edge, so that he didn't seem threatening.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly, hearing the pleading in his voice. He never realized how terrifying this would be. "Becky...d-don't, please...p-please, don't be scared. I would never hurt you. Please..."

She looked confused. "How did you-" she began, but then she paused and squinted, studying his face for a moment...and then she blinked and her face drained white, like she saw a ghost. For a frightening moment, the Winter Soldier thought she was going to have a stroke, but she placed her hand over her mouth and her eyes filled with tears as they recognized whom she was seeing. "Jimmy?" she breathed, her voice barely audible.

The Winter Soldier didn't know what to do, or how to react. He didn't know whether this was a mistake, or that this was what he needed...maybe both...but his eyes misted up with emotion as he watched her stare back at him. Beneath all that aging, she looked like the young girl he remembered parting forever at the train station in New York all those years ago.

Then she smiled, tears running down her cheeks. "Oh...oh, Jimmy," she wept happily, and reached out to him. He let her touch his face, her hand cool, frail and withered against his cheek, but very familiar. "You're here. They told me you were killed...that you-I must be dreaming. Oh, Jimmy..."

He touched her hand and closed his eyes. Very human emotions resurfaced as his sister spoke, but aware how her voice was raising, he stood up and gently pressed her back on the pillows. "I'm here," he said softly, "but you have to keep your voice down, sis. Everyone is asleep. We don't want to wake them."

"You look so different," his sister whispered. Her hand touched his long hair strands. "Honestly, Jimmy, it was a wonder I couldn't see your face firsthand. That dreadful war must have really put an effect on you."

You have no idea. He wondered if Rebecca had heard about the Hydra attacks in Washington D.C., like Maisie and her mother had. The last thing he wanted for this reunion was for her to realize the cold-blooded killer he had become. It would break her heart. Worse than dying, he thought, his chest tightening with remorse. Steve may have faced it, Maisie may have accepted it, but he didn't want to take away Becca's good memories of her big brother, Bucky Barnes. It would be too much for her to bear...and he would never forgive himself to have given her so much pain.

"I missed you so much," Rebecca whispered.

He took her hand, small, aged, and frail in his, and kissed it. "I missed you, too," the Soldier said. He meant it. He remembered her now, and he still missed her. "You have no idea how much it means to me to find you again."

"When I am old and losing my wits," she sighed.

"You still look beautiful, Becky."

She smiled sadly. "Always a gentleman, like Poppa. Like John. Oh, have you met my husband yet? I know you were always overprotective of me when it came to boys, but you will love him! I should introduce the two of you when he comes home. My little boys, too. I named my youngest after you: James. It suited him."

He remembered that she was entering Alzheimer's. She must be thinking at this moment her husband and sons were still alive. "I looked in your scrap book. James was a Navy pilot. You must have been proud."

That made her pause, looking into a distance...and then she grew sad. "Oh...yes. He-he died, didn't he? A plane crash." She became teary again. "And John...both of my Johns are gone, as well. My entire family...gone..." A sob choked her, and the Soldier instantly took her fragile hands, gentle as he could with his robotic hand under his glove.

"Shh, Becky, don't..." he whispered and instinctively touched her face, which was soft and shaky. He wiped away her tears...like he always did when she was a child, he remembered. "It's okay. I'm right here. You still have your grandchildren. Your great-granddaughter. You're not alone."

Becca sniffled. "Kimmie...Scottie...has Scottie come home yet?"

The Soldier hesitated. Becca only shook her head. "Never mind. After he lost his father, he...he was never the same. He and Rachel, my granddaughter-in-law, grew...distant. He grew troubled; started taking pills and God knows what else. I worried about him. I still do. Then one day, he took off and never came back. Never even called, not once. Left his child behind. Shameful." She sighed. "I still pray that he will come to his senses and come home. Rachel doesn't think so. He's not perfect, but he's still Maisie's father...and my grandson."

The Soldier didn't say anything. He felt as if he were trapped in his own shame. He did not even deserve to look her in the eye like a good human being and pretend that he didn't murder thousands of innocents from the past seventy years as a cold, emotionless killer machine, for the same enemy he had gone off to war to fight.

The storm of bloodshed in his head began to rise again. He closed his eyes, which burned overwhelmingly, as it had the night he attempted to shoot himself, to make the storm go away, the voices...but he held on to his sister's hand, reminding himself where he was, and took deep breaths.

"What is it, Jimmy?"

He then looked at his sister, and was struck with how much time had passed. She had outgrown him. A human being is dying at each passing minute of every day for over a century. Memories of her being a little girl became clear, awoken from erased memories, from seeking connection of his former life. Rebecca was an innocent, always had been, who deserved more than he ever did. He had practically raised her. He had done everything he could to protect her from the horrible realities of the world. He had even taught her to fight for herself, despite their father's disapproval. He taught her to punch so that it would make him sleep easier at night, before she went away. He protected her from boys, authority, and fear itself. He had wanted to make sure she outlived him, had a good life.

Now here he was, alive and still in his twenties, face to face with his baby sister who was now old, weak, and sick. Watching her waste away, most likely to die before him. He would lose her again. It all felt like a joke. A big, twisted joke. He had just remembered her, found her, and now she didn't even have many more years to live. He had to be the one to outlive her. It was unfair. Part of his living hell.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. His eyes blurred as he forced himself to look at her, his voice wavering. "I'm so sorry, Becky."

"Jimmy? For what? I don't understand."

"For everything." He trembled and looked down, gripping his sister's hand closer to him. "I'm sorry that I came back too late. I'm sorry that I abandoned you when you needed me the most. And I'm so sorry that I am the cause of so much suffering...when I'm the one who should suffer."

"Jimmy!"

Tears blurred his eyes. "I should have died," he choked. "I should have died when I fell from that train! So many people would have-I deserved this. I deserve to suffer for what I've done. I should have stayed with you. Protected you. Watched you grow up. I should have remembered you."

"Remembered me? Jimmy, what are you talking about?"

"I'm not the same person who was your brother, Becky, whom you parted at the train station." He looked at her with such sorrow, and said softly, "I yielded, Becky. I yielded into the hands of my enemies. I yielded, and let everything I had once fought for slip away. I was weak." His vision swam; an ocean of pain and guilt. Tears escaped. "I...I killed people. So many people, Becky!"

Becca blinked and didn't say anything for a minute. "You-you were in the war," she said finally. "You had to fight. It was never the other way around once you've joined. I knew it. You knew it."

"You don't understand." The burdens were so great that he had to draw back from her. "I...I didn't just kill Nazis..." I served the enemy. I murdered innocent men, women, and maybe even children. I helped start the Cold War. I had tried to murder my best friend, Steve Rogers. And I'm almost certain that if Hydra had ordered it, if they had even knew about my background, I would have been capable of killing you without question.

She then took his hand and shook her head. "Please don't talk about it."

"Rebecca, I need you to know what I am!" he said, despairingly. "I need to tell you-"

"No! I don't want to know what things you were forced to do, innocent or no. War can force people to do terrible things. It changes them. I never knew what it truly did to the fighters, but I have met many survivors with stories of their own. It broke my heart each time I heard them, but I beg of you, Jimmy, do not let the horrors you've faced take away your will to live. I do not know how you are here, how you are still young...perhaps I am merely speaking to your ghost from my own delusional mind...but I am overjoyed by this miracle of having to see you again. You have done an extraordinary job taking care of me, and I have always loved you for that. You have done everything you could, and I have missed you more than you know...but I have lived a good, long life. I only mourned the fact that my big brother had died young, fighting for what he believed in, protecting his country. Protecting me. But I was especially proud to see that he made history, fighting alongside the lifelong friend who would become our nation's hero, Captain America. Steve, of all people, who is miraculously alive, God bless him. I see him in the media, when I could follow along, but I would have to leave it to fate for him to find me. He was like another big brother to me once, though it mostly worked with the two of you.

"My great-granddaughter worships him. Him and the Avengers. Steve has inspired quite a bunch since we all thought he passed away. Maisie is the brightest little angel you'd have ever met. Scott and Rachel couldn't have done better. If you'd have met her...oh Jimmy, she would have stolen your heart in an instant."

"I know," whispered the Winter Soldier in agreement. He remembered how he met her in the museum, or rather she met him, and she was instantly taken by him, before he would even have time to process what horrors he had done. "I...I've seen her. She's wonderful...just like you."

Becca looked tired. "There is always hope," she murmured, "for each and every one of us. We are blessed with a life full of marvels that surprise us in even the darkest of times. I have witnessed them myself. And I have known you to be full of surprises. To me, you are invincible." She touched his face, her thumb wiping another tear away. "My big brother, willing to overcome anything, through tragedy and through failure. He always taught me that. And he still can..." She looked barely awake.

The Soldier swallowed hard, the storm in his mind dying slightly, but he watched sadly as his elderly sister drifted off, feeling more loving and protective than he had ever been for a very long time. It was so strange to the Winter Soldier that the feeling became fiercely natural. The ice in his heart had started to melt when he met Maisie Proctor...and then continued to melt for his gentle long-lost sister who lay before him, not knowing what he had become, that he had a prosthetic metal arm that had served as his weapon for destruction, and how easily a threat he could be, because she believed in him. It broke his heart.

"Becca..." he whispered softly, but the old woman was already asleep, looking peaceful and slightly younger, revealing the features of his little sister, Rebecca Barnes from decades before. He watched her for a moment, and then whispered, "I can't stay, Becca. I only wanted to see you again, just this once. I can't risk anyone knowing about the Winter Soldier's family. I can't...because if anything happened to you..." He swallowed. "I just wanted you to know how proud I am of you, sis...so damn proud, of how strong, wise, and independent you've become. You have never yielded. You have found everything, making you the woman our parents always wanted you to be. I know they would be proud of you." He took a deep breath to steady his voice, but then he croaked, "You have no idea how lost I was, how hard I try to find my way back, even when there is no going back...

"Even when I'm far away, even if you don't know it, I will always look out for you. I will do everything in my power to protect you and this family...even from me." He shut his eyes to keep himself in check and then looked up again, gently placing her hand down on the bed before silently standing up, leaning over her. "I am so sorry, Becky. So sorry for leaving you. For everything that I am now. But I promise you now that I will make things right, and that no matter what happens, you will always be my baby sister."

He pulled the covers over her, turned off the lamp, the room dark and moon shining behind him, making him look like a dark shadow in the room. He then kissed the top of her head, like he did when she was a little kid sleeping, when he had been looking after her as her big brother. She smelled of lavender...and of Becca. There was a possibility that he would never see her again, dead or alive; the thought seized his heart like his robotic hand. "I love you, Becky," he said softly. "Always and forever."

He then opened her window, but before he slipped out, he looked back at his sister one more time. She was fast asleep, like not having a care in the world, like she did when she was a little girl. Weak and vulnerable as she was, this woman was the head of a whole family, who would also be willing to take care of her. She was safe. She was loved, while being full of it herself. And when she would wake up the next morning, it was possible that she would not remember that he had visited her in her bedroom, alive, young, and tormented, or else she would believe it was a dream. But it was okay. He just wanted to see her, for possibly one last time, mourn the fact that he had missed so much of the life he could have had with the Proctors, only to be a mindless assassin who was just finding his way back, but he knew that she still believed in him. Still loved him. It was all he needed from her. It was enough. Before he would go...Tears burning his eyes, he finally turned away and leapt out the window. When he stepped into the darkness outside, he saw from the second story building that Maisie was awake, looking out the window, holding her teddy bear. She didn't see him, but was searching below, looking tiny and innocent. Becca was right. Maisie, in his eyes, was pure love, from the moment she spoke to him in the museum and offered him a blue hair tie. Finding her had lead him to find his family. His humanity. It was the most beautiful gift she could have ever given him. Nobody will take that away from him. Never again.

"Thank you, Maisie," Bucky whispered. And then the Winter Soldier left the Proctors to the unknown. One day he will find Steve Rogers. Whether it lead to his death, or redemption, he would make it his mission finish things with Captain America...and with Hydra. Maisie and Rebecca, Steve Rogers, and his vengeance. They were all he had left in the world.

The End

Well, that's it, folks! Until Captain America 3!