Many thanks to those of you who have left reviews, they're all appreciated. In this chapter, Gabe has questions and Alex has her own suspicions. As always, all errors are my own and unintentional. As always, please let me know what you think.

Chapter Four:

I'm a star that's just a black hole now.

"You and I need to talk," Gabe tells her as they leave the room.

"About what?" Alex enquires as they head to the kitchen though she has a very good idea of what he wants to talk to her about.

"Your latest project," her brother snips back when they finally go inside.

"Excuse me, my what?"

Gabe dumps the bag and the belt on the kitchen island in the centre of the room and turns to look at her.

"Are you out of your mind?" he hisses and her eyes widen in shock. "You're seriously offering him a place to stay?"

"He needs help Gabe," she whispers back, eyes darting to the doorway as if fully expecting Bucky to appear at any moment and who knows, perhaps he will.

"I agree but not the kind you can give him!"

"Meaning?"

"You saw him downstairs, how squirrelly he is. Look at the size of him, look at his clothing and tell me that's not the kind of clothing a normal member of the public wears. I will bet my last dollar that this belt holds ammunition of some kind. I recognised a knife holster and a gun holster strapped around his waist and hello, knee pads and those boots?"

"You think he's on the run, hiding from someone?"

"The police perhaps?" Gabe suggests, his voice beginning to rise. Alex regards him and she takes a slow deep breath as she considers the possibility. She'd noticed the empty knife holster but not the gun holster and she ignores the chill that forms in the pit of her stomach at that.

"If that's the case then where are his weapons? What do you suggest I do? Call the cops? Your friend from the VA, Sam? You know that's not what I do here unless under exceptional circumstances or if he asks for help himself. I promised him safety and that's what he'll have if he decides to stay. You're more than welcome to stick around if you're worried he'll try to slaughter me in my sleep!" she retorts when he rolls his eyes.

"Maybe I will!" he mutters back.

"Earlier in the alley he said he wouldn't hurt me. He saw me looking at his arm, the metal one, and he said he wouldn't hurt me and I believe him."

"Oh and he didn't try in the kitchen downstairs, or was that was just a figment of my imagination?" Gabe's eyes are wide, indignant.

"Because he was in pain, scared. He could have but more importantly he didn't. I'm sure you or I would've reacted in the same way," she replies calmly and hears his loud sigh.

"You've made up your mind haven't you?"

Alex shrugs. "He needs a place of safety, just for now. He could be gone by tomorrow. I have a feeling about him Gabe, just a feeling."

"Yeah, you and your feelings," her elder brother mutters darkly.

"And they've stood me in good stead in the past. My mind's made up and you know you can't talk me out of something when that happens," she reminds him and receives a roll of the eyes for her pains.

"Oh yeah, I do know and for the record, your feelings haven't always stood you in good stead. I haven't forgotten the last time."

Alex goes still.

"That was…"

They both turn, words halting, when they hear a heavy tread on the floorboards and see Bucky slowly come into view and Alex immediately wonders how much of their conversation he's overheard.

He stands in the doorway, still in the bar t-shirt and combat pants. He looks as though he's made an attempt to dry his hair and then tidy it up a little.

"I can leave at any time?" His voice is low, hesitant and Alex just nods. He then looks at Gabe.

"I won't hurt anyone and I'm not armed. If it'll make you feel better, you can pat me down, I won't object."

Gabe looks at Alex before he slowly approaches him. Bucky stands still and raises both arms slightly and Alex can't help but wince at the strain the movement must be putting on his injured shoulder, sling and all but he doesn't give any outward sign that he's uncomfortable. His expression is impassive as Gabe pats him down from his shoulders to his ankles, even checks around the waistband of his combat pants. Finally he straightens up and looks at her.

"He's clean," he tells her and Alex allows herself a tiny sigh of relief. Slowly, carefully Bucky lowers his arm. He looks at her and watches as she walks towards him.

"Let's get you a change of dry clothes," she suggests and she moves past him and heads back to his room.

He watches her as she flips through the clothes on the rail, pulling out t-shirts, checking their sizes, glancing at him, assessing him before either replacing them or pulling them off their hangers and looping them over her shoulder. She extracts two or three t-shirts and a couple of pairs of blue jeans. Presently underwear and socks join the growing pile which she places on the bed.

"If my staying here is gonna cause a problem, I can leave." Bucky's voice is low. Alex sighs, placing her hands on her hips.

"You heard my brother then. What can I say except that he's over protective."

"Because he's your brother. Look, you've both been really…kind to me, more than I deserve so I can go. It's okay." He begins to turn and freezes when she puts a hand on his chest. He looks down at it and then at her.

"Stay. You need to rest that shoulder and that's not going to happen back out on the streets. I wouldn't have offered you this room if I thought you were going to cause a problem."

He continues to look at her.

"Gabe worries, it's what he does," she tells him and hears him quietly sigh. "Stay," she urges and eventually he nods and she lowers her hand, taking a deliberate step back.

"Do you need help with anything?"

He gives a quick shake of his head and she gives him a fleeting smile. "Then I'll leave you to get changed."

He watches her leave and he's left with silence again.

He inhales slowly, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart in his chest. He can't help but feel that he's making a big mistake agreeing to stay here even for a short while. He needs to get out of the city, as far away from all of this as possible. He hasn't thought about where he's going to go just yet but New York feels important. He needs to go there, why he can't remember right now but it itches at the back of his mind.

He sits on the side of the bed and unfastens the knee pads that he wears, leaving them on the floor beside his boots. He then strips off the combats and the t-shirt, his movements slow and awkward and time consuming one handed. He manages to open the package that contains underwear and extracts a couple of pairs of what look like really small dark coloured shorts and he eyes them dubiously for a second or two before he sighs and clumsily pulls them on. He raises an eyebrow when he realises that while yes they are a little…revealing, they are also surprisingly comfortable. He forfeits the socks and pulls on the jeans and one of the t-shirts Blue Eyes selected for him. They all fit though the jeans rest a little loosely on his hips but he doesn't mind. It feels nice to be wearing dry clothing of any description. He looks down at his right arm, still in its sling and glares at it for a moment. It's a damned nuisance but he promised her he'd wear it for a little while. Now he's tired, worn out from trying to dress himself with one hand and the day in general.

He slowly gets to his feet and returns to the window. It's beginning to get dark out there, already he can see the orange glow of streetlights, reflecting against rain soaked tarmac and concrete. His right shoulder is aching and he slowly massages the muscle with his left hand and continues to stare blank eyed out of the window. There's a gentle tap on the bedroom door but it still startles him and he spins and sees Blue Eyes standing on the threshold. She takes in his attire and smiles gently.

"You look a lot better," she tells him and he looks down at the jeans, the t-shirt he's wearing and lowers his left hand, free of the glove that he's dropped on the bedside cabinet. He's not cold anymore he realises. He looks back at her but doesn't reply.

"I was wondering whether you'd like something else to eat or maybe a cup of coffee?" she asks. He regards her for a long moment and then slowly he shakes his head.

"I think I'll…hit the sack…if that's okay?" he answers slowly, indicating the wide bed with one hand and her eyes widen slightly

"Oh, it's fine. This is your space so if you want to sleep then go ahead. I won't disturb you." She offers him another smile and then ducks out, pulling the door shut behind her.

Bucky looks at the bed and then at the floor. He can't remember the last time he slept in an actual bed.

'What I wouldn't give for a genuine four poster bed, with a big fat mattress and goose feather pillows. A night in one of those fancy London hotels would be just swell dontcha think Steve?'

'Yeah maybe after the war's done and you've married yourself an English Princess or that Veronica Lake gal.' Laughter. It makes him grin in response. Looks down at his army green uniform.

'Y'think an English princess would go for a Brooklyn boy like me?"

'You can charm the birds from the trees Buck, what do you think?'

More quiet laughter follows.

Bucky blinks. Steve. The man on the bridge, on the Heli-Carrier. The face was hazy but he's sure it's the same guy. But how?

'I'm not gonna fight you. You're my friend.'

He inhales sharply. It sounds like the same voice, or maybe that's because he wants it to be but he's learned two new things; someone called Steve was important to him and he's from Brooklyn.

He goes back to the bed, sits heavily down on the side of the mattress and for a moment rests his head in his hand. He turns his head slightly and rubs his forehead slowly, contemplatively. Exhaustion begins to creep in more forcefully, he can feel it threatening to weigh him down and overwhelm him. He swivels his legs around and he lies flat so that he's stretched out on the mattress, on top of the blankets. For a moment he stares up at the shadows stretching their way across the ceiling.

He wonders again whether Steve is the man on the bridge.

As he closes his eyes, he remembers Blue Eyes' name.

"Alex," he whispers to himself.

"I'm gonna stay just for tonight," Gabe tells her as she dumps a sheet, pillow and blankets for him on her sofa.

"Just in case he tries to murder me in my sleep you mean. Callum is downstairs y'know, within yelling distance," she retorts with an eye roll.

"I'll be closer. I just wanna be certain. You said you had a feeling about him well so do I."

"Fine, I'm not going to argue with you, I'm too damned tired. You can make up your own bed."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

It's dark outside now and finally the rain seems to have finally stopped. She peeked in on Bucky an hour ago to find him stretched out on top of his bed, fast asleep.

"He's not the first guy I've helped," Alex reminds her brother. She sees his pensive expression. "What?"

"Do you think he's got anything to do with the disaster at the Triskelion Building yesterday?" he speculates.

"How did you come to that conclusion?"

She watches her brother shrug.

"Well you thought he was military and the utility belt and holsters suggest he is."

"According to you maybe."

She hears him sigh at this. She knows what's going through his mind. That despite what happened to her she tries to see the best in everyone, is willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes she's right, other times she isn't and the one time she really got it wrong it ended up being borderline disastrous. She gets that he worries, doesn't want a repeat of that experience.

"Think about it sis. His clothing isn't exactly what we'd call normal streetwear, he's very guarded, we don't know anything about him apart from a name and who calls themselves Bucky? It sounds like a nickname more than anything else and his metal arm looks like nothing I've ever seen before. You have to admit, you've got to be curious about that at least!"

Yesterday the country watched as three giant Heli-Carriers, part of the Project Insight venture exploded and crashed into the Potomac River, one of them taking the headquarters of SHIELD with it in an eruption of glass and concrete. It's all the news channels have been talking about, along with the revelation that over the years SHIELD has been infiltrated by HYDRA, led down that path with Alexander Pierce at its helm. The casualty list is massive, all the hospitals within a twenty mile radius of the disaster working flat out. The Triskelion building is now a smoking ruin, the river nearby a seething mass of twisted and burning metal. Alex watched a little of the news this morning while working in the bar. Even Captain America is reported to be in a hospital recuperating from injuries received in the catastrophe.

"It doesn't explain how he ended up in our alley confused and in pain. Maybe the only reason we've only got his name is because that's all he remembers?" Alex retorts and then she shakes her head.

"We're not all that far from the river, he could've stumbled over from there," Gabe reasons.

"And it could all just be one great big coincidence," Alex tells her brother though deep inside she's beginning to wonder whether there's any plausibility to his theory. "He could be gone by tomorrow. Today, we'll give him the benefit of the doubt, like we do to everyone who comes through that door."

"You're a soft touch." There's no derision in his tone and she doesn't take it as such. He just knows her well.

"I care. Someone has to. Go to sleep, tomorrow's gonna be busy."

She startles awake, breath caught in her throat, eyes wide as she tries to remember what it was that haunted her dreams like a wraith, lurking in corners, silently menacing. Half formed imagery that's already beginning to fade, it leaves her with an elevated pulse and thrumming heartbeat, threads of anxiety chasing through an already tested nervous system. She lies still, breathing slowly, deeply, counting in the breath, holding and counting it out. A simple exercise, one that's been useful to her over the years. Finally she feels everything settle within her and she becomes aware of other things, such as the rhythmic deep breathing as well as the soft snores of her brother on the couch at the bottom of her bed. The rest of the apartment is in silence, even the rain has stopped once and for all.

A low thump makes her heart jolt in her chest. A crash makes her sit up.

"Wass'at?" Gabe's voice is sleepily confused but Alex is already kicking back the blankets and climbing out of bed.

"Bucky," she answers as she hurries by.

She switches on the main light in the kitchen before heading into Bucky's room. The overflowing light picks him out, standing in the centre of it, an arm curled across his stomach.

"Bucky?" she questions and as he turns in her direction, his legs seem to give out from under him and he falls to his knees, going down as if strings have been cut. Alex's eyes widen in alarm and she dashes over to him, dropping down beside him, sliding an arm across his back. He's breathing in short heavy pants.

"Bucky?" she repeats and with her other hand she brushes strands of hair from his face. The skin is clammy and damp. He turns his head in her direction.

"Sick," he mutters and for a second she frowns in confusion. She looks up as Gabe stumbles into the room, his bag in his hand.

"What's going on?" His eyes dart between them both.

"Not sure," Alex replies, looking back down at Bucky. His eyes are wide, his arm tightening around his abdomen as his body seems to lurch. She then looks back up at her brother. "Get a bag, a trash bin, something, I think he's gonna puke," she tells him and watches as he dives out of the room. Bucky looks at her then, a look of mild panic crossing his face. It's then that she realises that his sling is missing and she turns her head, trying to locate it.

"Your shoulder Bucky, you need to put the sling back on."

"Don't need it…no more," he mutters, trying to take a deep enough breath. Anything she's about to say in reply vanishes when Gabe returns carrying a bucket which he shoves in her direction. She grabs it from him and pushes it in front of Bucky and he grabs onto it. She watches as once more his body gives a strange kind of heave but nothing comes up. Alex remains kneeling beside him and she slowly and calmly rubs his back as his body lurches and trembles. In the meantime Gabe walks around the room straightening up the bedside cabinet, righting the lamp that lies on the floor, switching it on and bathing the room in a soft golden light. Then he moves to Bucky's other side and he waits for the tremors to recede.

Bucky looks at Alex and she sees the exhaustion in his eyes. He's ashen pale, darker dusty smudges swiped beneath both bloodshot watery eyes.

"How are you feeling?" she asks in a low voice. She sees how he frowns, licks his lips.

"Sore," he whispers.

"That's dry heaving for you, your stomach muscles don't thank you for it." She reaches across and places the back of her hand against his forehead and for once he doesn't react, doesn't recoil at her touch. She drops her hand and looks at Gabe who's watching the proceedings carefully. "No fever," she tells him and then reaches for his right arm and gently presses on the pulse point on his wrist.

Bucky looks at her and then down. His head feels heavy, like it weighs too much for his body. Damn this feeling of constant tiredness; he's slept, felt like he slept for quite a while until the pain in his belly wrenched him out of whatever kind of slumber kept him captive. It didn't feel like cryo. He wasn't brought out of a pod and revived, dragged to the chair and… no he doesn't want to think about what happens when he's in the chair. Except that it hurts, it always hurts.

"Pulse is rapid," he hears her murmur. He turns his head when he sees Gabe open his bag and take something out. The damned stethoscope again.

"No…stop…stop!" he demands. Alex pauses.

"I need to check you over," she explains and he frowns, doesn't appreciate being spoken to like a child.

"I'm okay, leave me alone."

"Bucky, you're not," she keeps her voice soft. She watches as he struggles to his feet, trying to straighten on rubbery knees and all but collapsing on the side of the bed in the process. No, he's not okay but he won't be subjected to this again.

"Alex, leave him be," Gabe interrupts, his voice equally soft. "He's not gonna co-operate and trying to make him will just make him defensive." Bucky turns his head and watches as Gabe moves to stand in front of him, crouches down so that he can look him square in the eye.

"Dry heaving…and you have the shakes." He indicates his hands and Bucky looks down and he sees them trembling ever so slightly. He tightens them into fists instead and lifts his head to look back at him.

"You're clammy, sweating, very pale. You look like you're in withdrawal."

Bucky breaks eye contact at this piece of information, frowning very slightly.

"Will you tell us what from?"

Bucky's gaze snaps back to Gabe's face and opens his mouth to respond, to deny but no words emerge. He gives a quiet sigh and closes it again, gives a little shake of his head. Feels his stomach begin to spasm again.

He doesn't remember. No, not doesn't remember, he doesn't know. They didn't make it their mission to tell him what they stuck in his veins, just that it kept him quiet and obedient. He tries to remember, think back to the last time they stuck a needle in the back of his hand but all he gets is static.

He glances at the back of his right hand but there's nothing there, no mark, no scar. Of course there won't be. He heals quick.

"Gabe." Alex's intervenes and he can hear surprise in her voice, "I don't think he knows," she tells him.