Many thanks to those of you who have left reviews, they are much appreciated. In this chapter, Alex (aka Blue Eyes) attempts to build trust between herself and Bucky. All errors as always, are my own and unintentional. Again, all italicised thoughts are predominantly memory flashes. Let me know what you think.

I'm the ember that'll burn you down…

His clothing puzzles her a little. Combat trousers, heavy boots, leather jacket with one sleeve torn out to accommodate the strangest prosthesis she's ever seen. There's a harness of some description, made of leather strapped across his back and his chest and a utility belt spans his waist. It's empty, as is the small holster that's resting against his right hip. He waits as she opens the door and goes inside. She turns and looks at him, holds the door open for him and indicates with a nod of her head that he should come inside.

He pauses at the entrance, his eyes taking in the interior, squinting against the shadows. He can see people moving around and his heart rate picks up and he glances back at Blue Eyes. He watches as she turns her head and looks into the room for a second before she looks back at him.

"They work here. They're okay," she tells him in a low voice. She's trying to sound reassuring but he's not convinced. One of them turns his head and regards him and he automatically shrinks back.

Compromised. Sanction. Extract.

Leave, leave now.

He feels a frisson of alarm shiver through him.

Danger. There's danger here.

"Bucky, they work here. This is a kitchen and directly through there is a bar which is where I work. You can come inside, get dry, get warm and get something to eat. Let me take a look at your arm."

He slides another cautious look her way and she nods, just the once. He takes a breath and steps inside and pauses just inside the doorway. She folds down the umbrella, leaves it beside the door.

It's not a huge room, enough space for four or five people. The room is divided into a cooking and prep area and dining area. He carefully watches the people working in the cooking area but apart from that initial look when the girl had opened the door, they pay him no attention. Instead they talk amongst themselves. He can smell food cooking. His stomach growls again and reflexively he presses his left hand against it. It's been so long since he last had any kind of food to eat.

"You coming?" she asks, keeping her voice low and he flicks a glance her way but he doesn't move, not immediately. He's checking out the staff as well as looking for entrances and exits, in case he needs to leave quickly. She's seen it before.

"Straight ahead of you is the bar and it will take you out onto the street. There's the door you just came through and there's an exit in the dining area which is to your left. You can be out of here in under a minute if you need to leave quickly." She watches as he just looks at her. "You know, just in case. You wouldn't be the first to want to know how to leave in a hurry."

Not the first, not by a long, long chalk.

He's military she surmises, or maybe at least ex-military. Would explain the combats, the leather jacket, the prosthesis and the squirrelly personality. She's seen many prosthetics, many different variations created from many different materials but never one as striking as his. His is made completely of metal with grooved plates that allows it to move with a grace and ease that suggests some kind of sophisticated cybernetics is involved. She stares at the red star on the shoulder and she wonders who he is.

"This way," she murmurs to him and heads towards the dining area.

He follows, sticking close to her, his eyes still scoping out his surroundings. His gaze then slides over her.

Blonde hair. Long. Tied back.

What did she say her name was again? He can't remember. Information slides through his brain like melting ice.

He doesn't want to go back, He doesn't like it there; there is cold, filled with pain. Fear.

"Bucky?"

Her voice is soft but his head snaps in her direction with a speed that suggests otherwise.

They're in the dining area, the space dominated by a large wooden table, a variety of mismatched chairs huddled around its edges. Around the edges of the room are a variety of cupboards, a long bench, a sink and drainer, a refrigerator.

"Why don't you take a seat and I'll heat something up for you. Will soup be okay?" she asks him, indicating the table with one hand.

"Sure…" he murmurs, walking slowly to the table. He eyes the empty chairs and lifts his gaze to the girl. She's opening the door to the refrigerator and taking something out, a plastic bowl which she carries to the bench.

"Chicken okay?" she asks without even turning around.

"Yeah," he replies and clears his throat quietly, "thank you."

This time she does look at him, over one shoulder and the smile she gifts him warms her eyes.

"You're welcome. Sit."

He slowly lowers himself down onto one of the chairs, sitting at an angle so he can see both her and anyone else entering the room.

He startles when he hears something bleep and his head turns towards the source of the shrill noise and sees the girl pressing buttons on a metal oblong box. It looks like an oven of some description. Inside is the bowl which slowly rotates as the machine hums. In the mean time she's taken some bread out of a box and is slicing it with a long bladed knife. He watches her for a moment, noticing how neat and economical her movements are. The machine then bleeps again and she takes the bowl out. The contents are steaming so his guess that it's an oven of some kind is obviously correct.

Presently she carries a smaller bowl over to him and places it in front of him. He looks down at it and his stomach gives another growl. He feels his cheeks warm with an unfamiliar blush as one more he pushes his left hand into it to make it stop. He lifts her head as she takes a dishtowel from over her shoulder and lifts the bowl, placing it beneath. She heads back to the bench and returns with the sliced bread on a smaller plate and a spoon. She places them beside the bowl.

"There's plenty if you want more. Don't be shy," she tells him, offering him her smile again. He glances down at the bowl once more, he can smell the scent of the chicken, see noodles and vegetables, smell spices, herbs. He looks back at her.

"Thank you. You're very…kind."

It's fine. Afterwards…will you let me take a look at your arm?" She keeps her voice gentle as she lowers herself down onto a chair near to him, giving him a little space. She doesn't want to leave him by himself and he seems to be as comfortable with her presence as anyone's. Once more his eyes scan his surroundings, narrowing slightly as he takes in the lengthening shadows of a storm darkened afternoon, hears the rain rattling off the high up window panes in short staccato bursts accompanied by another rumble of thunder. "There's no one else here, it's just you and me. The guys in the main kitchen area won't bother us."

She thinks that his shoulder is dislocated and if it is, he'll need prompt medical treatment and she doesn't think he'll go to a hospital. She sits back in her seat.

"Eat your soup. You'll feel better," she tells him.

He doubts it but he picks up the spoon with his left hand anyway.

She watches him for a moment as he carefully dips the spoon into the soup and then slowly and carefully lifts it to his lips and tastes it. It's almost delicate and she watches the range of emotions that slide across his face. It varies from caution to curiosity to almost bliss. Her gaze drops to the metal hand, at how dextrously the limb moves, how the fingers flex and manipulate the spoon almost as well as a flesh and blood hand. There's some serious technology at play there. She gets to her feet and gets him a glass of water. His eyes flick up to her face again as she places it beside his bowl and then sits down again. A few moments of silence pass.

"Hey…Doc…"

The interruption makes Bucky flinch, dropping his spoon with a clatter and he turns in his seat, already half out of it by the time she moves in front of him. She places a hand on his shoulder and there's no weight to it but he stills and sits back down as she turns to look at their visitor.

A tall, skinny guy in drainpipe jeans, black rimmed spectacles and band t-shirt. He freezes the moment he sees their visitor.

Alex gives a sigh. "Damn it Connor, don't sneak up on a gal like that," she scolds.

The man's eyes widen apologetically. "Sorry. Just came to tell you that your brother's here. Who's this?" His gaze drops on Bucky. She turns her head and looks at him for a moment before returning her attention to Connor.

"Someone I'm helping. Could you send Gabe back here please? And let Callum know I'm gonna be busy for a little while?"

Connor's gaze snaps up from Bucky's face to hers. "Sure thing," he replies and he's gone. She sighs and slowly turns to look at Bucky again. His eyes are slightly wide. She lifts her hand from his shoulder.

"That's Connor, he works here too. You're in luck, my brother's here, he's a doctor and he can take a look at your shoulder if you're still willing?"

Bucky stares at her for a moment, eyes barely blinking.

"I thought you were gonna look at my arm?"

"And I will, I'll be here too, Gabe is better, more qualified than me." She picks up the discarded spoon and holds it out to him. "Finish your soup before it gets cold," she tells him and watches as he does so.

A couple of moments later they hear a careful knocking sound.

"Hey sis, okay for me to come in?"

Bucky replaces the spoon in the bowl and pushes it away. He keeps his head down but every sense is on alert.

Compromise. Sanction. Extract.

Danger. There's danger here.

He lifts his eyes and sees Blue Eyes smile at the visitor.

"Yeah, come on in," she tells him.

"Connor said you have someone you want me to see?"

"Yeah. This is Bucky."

He tenses when he feels her hand rest on his shoulder again. Just as quickly she lets go. Bucky lifts his head when he sees the other guy come closer. Taller. Blonde hair like Blue Eyes but not so bright, the same colour eyes.

Didn't someone say her brother was here? Is this him?

He watches as he slowly lowers himself in the seat she had earlier occupied. Is he really who he says he is? Maybe he's here to take him back to them. Maybe he works for HYDRA. Maybe he's lying, maybe they're all lying to him. Maybe they're making sure he sticks around long enough so they can let them know and they'll be here soon to return him.

Compromise. Sanction. Extract.

Danger.

"Gabe. You need to be careful."

Bucky's eyes flick to Blue Eyes' face when he hears her voice, the change in tone and he recognises the caution. It's then that he becomes aware of a quiet but high pitched revving sound and he looks down and sees his gloved left hand clenched into a tight fist. Out of the corner of his eye he sees movement and he quickly pushes back in his seat, raising the arm, fist poised, ready to strike.

"Woah…hey…I'm not gonna hurt you!" the guy retorts, holding up both hands, palms out. His eyes are wide with apprehension. A tense moment ticks by where Bucky doesn't lower his arm, his eyes are wide, darting around his surroundings.

Need to leave. Compromised. Sanction. Extract. It dances through his head like an out of control jitterbug.

'Hey Bucky, are we goin' dancin'?'

'Yes we are!' Confident. He likes to dance. Good at it.

Arms link his. They're leaving. Where are they going?

"This is my brother Gabe. He's the doctor I mentioned and he can help you. I promise you that he won't hurt you. Will you let him take a look at your arm?"

Blue Eyes' voice is low, calm and he stares at her. He can feel his lungs heaving, as if he can't drag enough air into them. His vision is going dark around the edges or is it getting darker outside? He can't tell anymore.

He doesn't know what's going on. Things are moving too fast for him to comprehend, to accept.

"Bucky?" she repeats and slowly moves a little bit closer to him. Carefully she crouches down and gently places her hand on his knee. He's tense; every fibre, every nerve, every muscle on alert. His eyes are saucer wide, skittering over each face, every surface. Close to full blown panic.

"Gabe can help you. You can trust him," she gently reassures him and she waits. A moment passes and she watches as he cautiously he lowers the arm and slowly unclenches his metal fist. She sighs quietly in relief and takes her hand off his knee. She glances at her brother as she gets to her feet. Bucky then looks at him and he nods his permission. Gabe slowly lowers his hands.

"For me to take a look at your arm, you need to get out of that jacket. Do you think you can or do you need me to help you?" he asks, keeping his tone low.

"I can do it," he replies quietly and they both watch as with his left hand he first of all unfastens the utility belt around his waist and then he unbuckles the harness that's strapped over his shoulders. He pops open the buttons that hold the thick leather jacket firmly across his chest. As it gapes open, Alex sees a zipper and he slowly pulls it down. He then pulls his metal arm free of the hole that is the left sleeve and he looks up at her as she slowly approaches him. She looks into vivid blue-grey eyes. Rainwater still dribbles from the ends of his overlong dark hair that's plastered to his skull, dripping onto his shoulders, in his face. She takes notice of the bruises that mark his face, the healing graze on his left cheekbone, on his chin beside the corner of his mouth. He looks like he's been in a fight.

"May I?" she asks, indicating the right sleeve and he slowly nods. She reaches forward and gently grasps back of the jacket and carefully she manoeuvres it across his shoulder and then down over his right arm, moving with care to remove the jacket completely from his upper body, wincing slightly at his hiss of pain. It's soaked through and weighs a ton. He watches as she places it on the table in front of him. Beneath the jacket is an undershirt of some description, black in colour with a high neck and a long right sleeve.

"Again, I need to remove this so Gabe can check the shoulder, is that okay?" she repeats.

"Yeah," he murmurs. She glances at him, watching as he tenses, biting his bottom lip against the pain. She looks at his left hand and sees that he's clenching it into a tight fist again but this time it doesn't look like he's threatening to swing it.

"Sorry," she apologises, "I'm trying to be as gentle as I can."

"It's fine," he mutters back but his eyes are dark with pain.

Alex watches as he pulls his left arm through the hole then pull it over his head. She in turn peels the sleeve from the injured arm and places it on top of the jacket. She returns her attention to him and she sees that the prosthesis goes right up into his shoulder, replacing the entire socket. Her eyes take in the extensive scarring of the skin, puckered where flesh and metal join. She hears the soft whirr of the cybernetics as it moves, notices how the plates in the arm shift and then settle. She then blinks and returns her attention to his flesh and blood arm. It's thickly muscled, the bicep bulging even while relaxed, the skin smooth and pale. Her eyes take in the sloping of the right shoulder and the bruising that marks the skin. Similar bruises smear the skin across his chest and abdomen. He's definitely been in a fight of some description.

Gabe leans forward and waits until Bucky makes eye contact again.

"I need to touch the arm and it will probably hurt, okay?" he tells him and a solitary nod is his reply and he gently places his hands on the arm.

"When did this happen?" he asks as he carefully manipulates the limb, hearing his sharp intake of breath, quickly swallowed down.

"I don't know. Yesterday I think. I don't remember," he answers haltingly and he glances at him.

"You don't remember? How is that possible? This will be hurting like hell, you wouldn't forget an injury like this one."

The look Bucky sends him is defiant.

"I don't remember," he deliberately repeats.

Gabe sighs and carefully let's go of his arm.

"It's dislocated and the shoulder joint needs to be put back in its socket and put in a sling for a few days."

"So do it."

Gabe's eyes widen. "It's not that easy. Ideally you'd need x rays so I could see what kind of dislocation it is and also to make sure it's back in its socket but somehow I don't think you're amenable to that idea."

Bucky begins to shake his head. "No hospitals."

Gabe looks up at his sister and quietly sighs.

"Then we do it here and be warned, it's gonna hurt."