Hi, everybody! I am pleased to say that this is one of the longer chapters with more storyline than introspective stuff. Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, though there are a couple OCs in this chapter.

Chapter Nine

I don't know how long it took for the ship to stop rocking. The limited light of the sun that came through the small rust holes in the metal container faded and came back several times, enough for over two weeks to pass. My muscles were cramping so badly that I couldn't sleep well-not that I could sleep well before. The nightmares were less intense than they normally were, though. The rocking of the ship and the cold air made me feel safer for some reason. I rationed the limited food and water I had, but the water ran out before the ship stopped. My food is almost gone, as well. I used the flashlight I stole to write what I remembered in the journals as the days passed to distract myself from my burning, dry throat and hunger pains.

It was relatively calm and quiet in the container, so I jumped when the floor suddenly shuddered and pitched violently. I brace myself against the rough, rusted wall until the container stops shuddering. The doors bang open, and bright light rushes in so quickly that it nearly blinds me.

After several minutes of shouting in what sounded like modern Greek, more and more light flooded the container, so they must be moving the crates. I have to run out of here quickly. If I get caught, I'll be arrested and sent back to America, which will set me right back where I started.

As soon as the last two crates between me and the exit are picked up by a forklift, I stand and run around the machine as fast as I can. People shout after me in Greek, demanding that I stop and go back, but I don't stop. I keep going. I run off the dock, leaving the ocean behind. I run and run until the sounds of their voices and the crashing ocean waves disappear.

I move quickly: walking, running, jumping onto open cargo trains and shipping trucks like I did with Steve. I collect food here and there: fruit, packaged foods, bread, and I refill the water bottle I stole from that woman so long ago at every opportunity.

My sleep is sporadic and never restful. There are so many nightmares and so many terrible memories inside of me that sometimes, I'm not sure I want to remember. Overall, I want to, but I always remember killing others. Over two dozen people. I was ordered to kill over two dozen people. And I remember all of them. I remember strangling some and beating others. Some begged for their lives, but most had a bullet in their heads before they could register what was happening.

I keep circling back to the same questions: did I feel anything when I killed them, or are my current feelings just coloring the memory? And is it worse to not feel anything at all, or to be awake when I did it and not fight the order to kill?

I try my best not to think about it as I keep moving, passing country after country and discovering that I knew so many more languages than just English and Russian. After I hop off a train and run before the engineers can catch me, I find myself in Romania near their capital of Bucharest.

I keep walking, straining to ignore the dull ache of hunger in my stomach. I miss sleeping in a bed. Over the year it took to arrive in Romania, I gained a few more memories of my life before being HYDRA's Soldier. I remember sleeping in a bed with a pillow. Steve's mother, Sara, gave us blankets when we built pillow forts on the floor when we were kids. They were warm.

I'm far enough away from DC now. When I think about Steve as Captain America, I don't feel anxious like I used to. I don't feel like I need to return to the river I left him at and carry out HYDRA's order. I can settle down somewhere. My entire body is the kind of tired that's bone-deep and dreadful. I want to find somewhere permanent to stay, but I don't have any money to do that, and there's always the risk of HYDRA finding me if I stop moving.

After a day or so, I enter the capital city of Bucharest. I hadn't eaten in a full day. I was more exhausted than I've ever consciously remembered. I know that I was even more tired in Siberia-where HYDRA kept me and the other Winter Soldiers-but this level of exhaustion was still terrible.

I ducked into an alleyway and try to settle down for the night, my stomach growling and aching. In Siberia, I didn't have the time or concentration to register any hunger pains-the rest of me hurt too much-and I don't remember ever being this hungry before I was drafted into the Army.

I curl up, trying to get my left arm under cover. The metal constantly drained the heat out of me, making me feel ten times colder than I actually was. Eventually, my eyes finally close and quickly drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

I stirred awake with the sun, but I kept my eyes closed, straining to continue sleeping.

"Hey!" someone shouted, making me jump. I looked up and found an older, tan man wearing a stained apron, standing in the doorway across from me. "What do you think you're doing here!" Apparently, I understand Romanian, too.

I sat up slowly, trying to show him that I'm not a threat. "My name is Bucky," I recited, like I do every time I wake up, only I do it in Romanian rather than English.

"I don't care what your name is!" the man shouted. "You're not stealing food from here!"

He rushes towards me, and I instantly stand. I don't want to hurt him, but his quick movements made me nervous. I forced down my instinct to push him away and let the man grab my arm. He dragged me through the door he came out of and guided me through a kitchen and into a dining area. He hooked his foot around a chair and pulled it away from one of the tables. He threw me down into it, and I strained to calm my racing heart.

He is just defending his place of work. He's not going to kill me. He's not an agent of HYDRA.

"You're going to wait right here," the man ordered before walking behind a counter and drawing a mobile phone from the pocket of his apron. He tapped the glowing screen on it a few times and put it to his ear. "Sebastian," he stated, earning an annoyed babble coming from the other end of the phone line. "I know, and I'm sorry, but there's a guy who was lurking in the alley. I think he was trying to steal food. He looks like he's been sleeping on the ground for at least a few months." A longer babble sounded from the phone, though it seemed less irritated than before. "Okay. Yeah. I'll do that." The man took the phone away from his ear before coming back towards me. "It's your lucky day," he congratulated. "Boss wants to see you before he does anything about this. But you've still got to stay right here."

I nodded. It's not like I had anywhere to go. If they try to hurt or arrest me, I'll run then. With HYDRA's poisons running through me, I'm faster and stronger than they are.

We waited for an hour or so. The traffic outside started to pick up as people began to go to work, but everyone passed by this small diner or restaurant-whatever it is-without giving it a second glance.

I jumped when the bell rang. I turned to find a man who was slimmer and younger than the one who was guarding me. He closed and locked the door and walked past me. He must be who the older man called. Sebastian.

"This him?" he asked, receiving a nod from the other man. They both turned to me, and Sebastian questions, "Were you trying to steal from here?"

I shake my head.

"Then what were you doing in the alleyway?"

"Sleeping," I muttered.

"You don't have a place to stay?"

I shake my head again.

The two men converse quietly for a moment, and the older man who brought me in here was looking more and more irritated.

Sebastian suddenly turned to me and enthusiastically wonders, "Would you like a job?"

I stare it him in stunned silence.

The older man sputters. "Sir, with all due respect, you can't flippin' do that!"

"Sandu, I'm the owner of this place, so I can hire who I want," Sebastian reminded before turning back to me. "Are you from around here?"

"No," I mutter.

"Then, how'd you get here?"

I hesitate before answering. "A ship."

"You got a name?"

"My name is Bucky," I recite.

"Bucky?" Sebastian repeats, and I nod. "Can you start right away? Our dishwasher actually just quit, so we need a new one. Doesn't pay much, but you'll be better off working here than sleeping in some random alleyway."

When I still don't answer, Sebastian continues. "How strong are you? The dishes here are actually pretty heavy, and Sandu here can't lift all of them. Especially while he's cooking," he laughs. "How 'bout just a trial run? Work here for a few days-with pay, or course-and see if you like it?"

If I work here, I can earn money and eventually get a permanent place to stay. HYDRA reaches far and wide, but I haven't seen any sign of them since a year ago during DC. Staying somewhere for longer than one day couldn't hurt that badly. And if worse comes to worse, I can always run. It's not like anyone can stop me. Unless they say those words again. It would be more than nice to have somewhere to stay. I could concentrate more on getting my memory and my life back.

I look back up at Sebastian and nod slowly. I'm still unsure about it, but I tell myself that it will be better.

"Excellent!" Sebastian exclaimed. "There are employee showers in the back-well, an employee shower. Why don't you go ahead and take one while Sandu and I get the place ready for the breakfast rush and let the other workers know that you'll be joining us."

Sebastian pointed down a narrow hall, and I get up and move towards it, giving Sandu a wide berth.

I was almost to the employee bathrooms when Sebastian's voice shouts, "Wait!" I turn around and watch as Sebastian runs up to me, a pale uniform that was similar to the one Sandu was wearing in his hands. "This is what you'll be working in. I eyeballed the size, so feel free to tell me if it's too big or small."

I gingerly take the uniform from him and nod. Sebastian turned back around and walk back towards Sandu and started whispering to him. Their sound was too low for me to make anything out, and I automatically assumed that they were talking about me.

Were they plotting to kill me, or were they just concerned about the fact that their "new hire" was some random guy off of the street? They could be HYDRA. They could have just drawn me into a trap to take me back to Siberia.

I shake my head and force myself into the employee bathrooms and lock the door. My heart is beating too fast. I lean against the door and take deep breaths, trying to bring it's pace back down.

The likelihood that they are HYDRA agents is slim to none. I had caught enough glimpses of news programs and papers to know that both HYDRA and SHIELD had fallen. All hack-able information on both organizations was released to the public. HYDRA is gone. They're gone. Zola is not here anymore. It's been too long. Zola is dead, and I'm never going back to Siberia.

I scanned the bathroom around me and found the place to be in good condition. I've been going to the bathroom in the actual woods, though, so even if it was run-down and dirty, it would be better than dry leaves.

I found a fresh bar of soap, a used, disposable razor that I could clean off and use to trim down my growth of a beard and what smelled like a clean towel in a cabinet nearby. I took the soap out of its box, brought the razor into the shower with me and hung the towel over the silver bar.

I undressed and placed the uniform and my pack on the floor near the towel rack and took a long, warm shower. It's the end of winter, so it's freezing outside. The hot water loosened the stiff muscles, and the soap cleaned off the dirt that had caked onto my skin and nails. I worked the knots out of my longer hair and just stood there in the running water for a while. I can't remember the last time I had taken a shower, but I feel like it was after Steve brought me out of the work camp during the War. At least, that's the last time I consciously remember. I have a few distant memories of being cleaned in Siberia that were so vague that part of me thinks I made it up. I think they just sprayed me with a hose for a while, and that water was cold. But this water is warm and nice, though I can't stay here forever.

I regrettably shut off the water, reached through the shower curtain and grabbed my towel. I wrung the water out of my hair, dried myself off and wrapped the towel around my waist before taking the razor and getting out. The tile floor outside of the shower was so cold that the moment I touched it, it sent chills up my spine.

I cross the room to the sink and mirror and used the razor to gently shave off the beard I had grown. It took a few minutes, but when it was done, I looked a little more like myself. Or at least, I looked more like what I remembered.

I go back towards where I had left the uniform and picked it up from the floor. It was stained, but it smelled clean, so I got dressed in it anyways. It was a little loose, but it fit well, and it was thinner than anything I remember wearing. I leaned down when I was finished and folded up my old clothes, shoving them in my pack.

I was about to leave the bathroom with my pack in hand when I remembered my arm. I had gotten so used to it over the past year, that it got easier and easier to ignore, but I still have to cover it up somehow. It's unlikely that anyone will notice the silver hand at first glance, but they'll definitely notice the rest of the powerful, hard-looking arm, particularly the bright red star on the shoulder.

I reach into the pack and drew out my hoodie. I place the pack on the floor and slip the hoodie back on, leaving it unzipped so it didn't look like I had anything to hide but that I was just cold-which I was, now that the warm water had stopped.

I put my pack back on and unlock the bathroom door. I open the door, and the colder air from outside hits me instantly, forcing away the warmer, steam-filled air of the bathroom.

A babble of voices reaches me as I close the bathroom door behind me. It almost sounded like an argument. There were many voices, but Sebastian's voice silenced them all. "Come on, guys!" he pleaded. "I'm trying to do a nice thing here. He looked like he needed help, so I gave it, but rather than dip into this company's savings, I gave him a job. It'll give him a place to start, up our image, and plus, you'd have to be an idiot to screw up washing dishes."

After a moment of silence, the other people made noises of agreement.

I take a few slow steps towards the end of the short hall and look around the corner to find a crowd of about thirty men and women in the same uniform I was wearing, though some had variations that made it a little more appealing to the eye, so those must be the people that customers interacted with.

"There you are!" Sebastian exclaimed, making me jump. I look towards the front of the crowd and found Sebastian turned towards me. He gestured to me and glanced back at the collection of workers. "This is the guy. Bucky."

Every eye turned on me.

"Come out here!" Sebastian pleasantly ordered.

I had to take a deep breath to remind myself that he didn't have malicious intent with his request. It wasn't an order. He just wanted to introduce me to everyone else.

I slip my left hand into my pocket and take a few steps out of the hall.

"Well, you look much better," Sebastian greeted, earning a few small and scattered laughs from the workers.

"I feel better," I mutter. "Thank you, and I'm sorry for any inconvenience."

"No inconvenience," Sebastian dismissed. "We had an open position, and it's not like you need a background check for it."

I give a small, fake smile at his comment that I thought was a joke. A small beeping sounded, and it took everything I had not to jump.

Sebastian lifted his hand and glanced at a watch wrapped around his wrist. "Well, we're a little later at opening, but we're still on time," he announced. "Let's go, people!"

The day was slow to start for me, but eventually, I was working. It wasn't difficult, and lifting the dishes wasn't as bad as Sebastian described-but then again, I have both a metal arm and a super-soldier serum inside of me. They gave me a pair of latex gloves for the job, and luckily, they were tinted enough to hide my silver hand.

Sebastian was in and out of the diner. Sometimes he would check on me and the other employees, but other times, he would go out with the customers and greet them.

The other employees gave me odd looks out of the corners of their eyes. It was obvious that they didn't trust me, and if I was in their position, I wouldn't either.

Despite their glances, my mind drifted while I worked, and I concentrated on as far back as my memory could possibly go. I've looked back enough to know that trying to force memories into light will only give me a headache and a panic attack, but I still think about it. I have to remind myself to not try to force the memories to come, but it's so frustrating. It's like my mind is a bookshelf with nothing but empty book covers stocking the shelves. I go to pick a book but find the only the cover. The faint image I think is a memory is empty and hollow.

As the day went on, the shifts changed, and new people came. Sebastian introduced me as a new hire and nothing more. Less and less workers knew me in the diner, so less and less cautious glances were discretely thrown in my direction.

Sebastian let me eat all three meals of the day there. He said he'd take the money out of my paycheck, but I didn't mind. I was just glad that I could eat something at all. I didn't want to deprive anyone of anything, so I didn't take much, but the food was good and filling.

At the end of the day, everyone went home except for Sebastian and Sandu-whose full name, I learned, is Alexandu. I lingered in the kitchen as the last employee left. I have nowhere to go. I could spend the night in the alley again, but I wasn't sure if they'd let me.

"Hey, Bucky," Sebastian called, and I turned to find him standing in the doorway of the kitchen. He tossed his hair back towards the dining area. "Come on."

I followed Sebastian through the tables, down a hall and through the only door there. Inside was an office, the desk lamp was turned on, and a sleeping bag and a thin pillow were in the corner.

"I figured that you staying in here is better than in the alley," Sebastian voiced.

It was for me? He was letting me stay in his office?

"If you don't want to, that's fine," he continued, "but I'd feel better if you took the sleeping bag anyways."

"Th-thank you," I muttered.

Sebastian nodded. "Not a problem. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," I whispered. "See you tomorrow."

"Alright, then." Sebastian turned around and walked out of the office-his office-and closed the door.

My mind flashes back to Siberia for a moment. They locked me in so many small spaces.

My heart starts to race, and I rush back towards the door. I turn the knob and heave a sigh of relief to find the door open.

I'm not locked in. I'm free to leave if I want.

I closed the door again and went back towards the sleeping bag. It was still warm in the building, and the sleeping bag is simultaneously a bed and a blanket. I missed blankets.

So I didn't put a self-insert in this chapter but a Seb insert. I don't know why, but I wanted to put a Sebastian Stan like character in this story, and I kept his same name. Anyways, I hope you liked it, and I'll see you soon for the next chapter!