Bucky dropped his bag down on the floor as he sat on the sofa. It had been just over a week since his last appointment. He had had to phone his therapist and ask to rearrange the appointment. Returning to her office, he had all of his possessions packed and he was ready to go. He was ready to go somewhere else away from D.C. and start a new life. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he would figure it out. He had always been able to figure stuff out. But there was one thing in his mind that he couldn't figure out and she was lying in a hospital bed less than ten miles away from him.

His therapist arched her brow as she watched him drop the bag. "Going on a vacation?" she wondered.

"I need to leave," Bucky said to her.

She leaned back, her grey trousers creasing as she folded one leg over the other. She laced her hands together on her stomach and tilted her head to the side, waiting for more of an explanation. But he wasn't forthcoming and so she took the lead.

"You know that you are required to attend these sessions as part of your pardon," she reminded him. "You cannot just up and leave whenever you want to, James."

"You don't understand, doc," he said to her with a shake of his head as his hands rested on his thighs. "I cannot stay here, not now. I need to go. Is there a way we can do this differently?"

She sighed, but shrugged. "I guess online therapy is an option," she said to him. "But I need to be sure that you are not going to get in trouble. You're leaving…the rules we established…you cannot break them."

"I don't intend to," he assured her.

"Really?" she asked. "Because you already broke rules number one and two."

Bucky's brow furrowed and she rolled her eyes at his confused expression. He really had no idea sometimes. He could be so clueless.

"Did you think they wouldn't tell me?" she asked from Bucky, shrugging her shoulders. "I had someone from S.H.I.E.L.D. come down here and ask me how your sessions had been going, if you had been sticking to the rules that we had set up. Apparently you decided to go off on a little mission on your own."

"I had no other choice."

"So I understand," she responded to him. "And is that why you're leaving?"

"Yes," James said.

She knew. His therapist was a clever woman. She annoyed him, but she was a good woman. He knew that. He just didn't want to be in therapy. He didn't think that it would be any use.

"You're leaving because of her, aren't you?"

Bucky said nothing back to that, his jaw tensing up. She sighed and reached for the notebook. He groaned to himself, tilting his head back and looking to the ceiling for a moment. He detested it when she did that and she knew it. She was able to push his buttons exactly how she wanted to. He looked ahead again and spoke.

"What other choice do I have?" he demanded from her. "In the space of week she was kidnapped and tortured because of me. There will always be bad people out there who could come back and hurt her to get to me. I am not staying here and risking that."

"And so what?" she asked from him. "You know that one day you will have to open up and build relationships…friendships…because you cannot go through life alone. You cannot go through life not trusting anyone. You're alone. You need people."

"People get hurt when I'm around," he responded, pointing to his chest.

"And do you think that she won't be hurting now?" the woman asked him. "How did she take the news when you told her that you were leaving?"

Silence engulfed them again and Bucky had the decency to look embarrassed. In hindsight he could have told her to her face. He should have done that because he owed her that much. But it had been too difficult. It had been too difficult for him to sit there and tell her that he was leaving her. He had been a coward and he wasn't scared to admit it to himself, but not to anyone else.

"You didn't tell her, did you?" his therapist asked.

"I've put her through enough," he retorted. "She will be upset, but she will realise that it is for the best."

"And is it down to you to make all of the decisions? Does she not get a say?"

"Not when she was almost killed," Bucky responded, his tone harsh.

"You're throwing something away out of fear," she said to him. "And I know that your fear is rational. I understand that. But who is to say anything like this would happen again? You are a civilian, James. You can live freely. You're supposed to live freely."

"I can't take that risk," he said, mouth feeling dry all of a sudden and he contemplated her words.

"Life is full of risk."

"Not like this," he shook his head. "She will be fine. She will move on."

"And you?" she wondered. "Will you be fine? My advice would be to go and see her and spend time with her. See that things can be normal for both of you…that you can have that…don't run away. You'll only cause yourself more pain."

Bucky checked the watch on his wrist. "That's time," he said and stood up, grabbing his bag and slinging it onto his shoulder. She sighed at him and placed her notebook down onto the table next to her.

"We were both soldiers," she said to him as he turned for the door. "We don't run away when things get difficult. That isn't who we are."

Bucky said nothing back to her. Instead he left through the door, unable to think of anything that he could say.

…

Evelyn had been discharged from hospital four days later and advised to rest until her ribs healed. They hoped it wouldn't take long, but Evelyn didn't care about the pain from them at that moment in time. Instead she could only keep reading over the letter that Bucky had left her. She had kept it close by her at all times, wondering where he could be. Sam had been to see her and told her that he would try and track him down, but he was due to leave on another mission the week after.

Her parents had constantly been hovering around her and she wished they would just give her space. Returning to her apartment, Evelyn had struggled to want to walk into the building complex. She froze at the door and her father placed a reassuring hand onto her back. She moved into the building cautiously, a hand holding onto her side. She smiled softly at Boris on the reception as he welcomed her back, promising her that her apartment had been tided up and the locks had been changed.

He handed her the new set of keys and her mother thanked him as Evelyn struggled to get the words out. Her mother continued wheeling a small case by her side containing some of Evelyn's clothes that she had worn at the hospital. Once they came to the apartment, Evelyn looked around. Everything was in its right place. The mess had been cleaned up.

Her laptop was on her coffee table. Little did she know that Bucky had snuck in and returned it after taking it. A phone was also there, but it didn't look anything like hers. She frowned, moving towards it and seeing that there was a post-it note attached to it. She picked it up as her parents hovered by the kitchen, wondering what she was doing.

Your other phone was bugged. I got a new one. The Apple Store was intolerable, but I got it for you. Bucky.

Evelyn grabbed the note and screwed it up, throwing it to the other side of the room without looking at her phone. Instead she looked to her parents and realised she had to say something.

"I'll get the blow up mattress," Evelyn said. "You guys can have my bed like usual-"

"-Absolutely not," Sarah said to her daughter. "I am going to change your bedding and we will take the blow up mattress. We're going to go out and get some food as well because your cupboards will be empty. Will you be fine for an hour or so on your own?"

"Yeah," Evelyn said. "I need to go and shower."

"Go," Sarah said.

Alistair watched his daughter hobble into the bathroom before going to pick the note up that she had tossed onto the floor. He unfolded it and read it as Sarah came to stand over his shoulder and look at it herself. She sighed and went to take it from her husband to toss in the bin, but Alistair kept hold of it.

"She screwed it up and threw it," Sarah said to her husband. "She clearly doesn't want it, Alistair."

"She screwed up that letter as well, but she fished it out the trash and now won't let it go," Alistair said to his wife. "So we're not getting rid of this, Sarah…she can put it in the bin if she wants to, but she didn't and so we're not."

Sarah made a tut noise as she moved over to the laundry cupboard in the small little hallway that led to the bedroom and bathroom. "She doesn't need the memory of him," Sarah said in a haughty tone.

"I agree, but that doesn't mean that we make that decision for her. She…I've never seen her like this."

"She's known him for a week," Sarah snapped as she turned to look at her husband while she grabbed fresh bedding. She held it in her arms, keeping it bundled against her before she moved into her daughter's bedroom. Alistair followed and watched his wife begin stripping the bedding down.

"And it took me two dates to realise that you were the one I wanted to spend my life with," Alistair said to his wife. "Do you not remember what I said to you after our sixth date?"

Sarah sighed.

"I told you that I would move to London for you," he said to her. "I told you that I was so confident that we were going to be together that I would move to London…find a new job…somewhere to live…anything."

Sarah began stuffing the pillow into the fresh pillowcase.

"And I thought that you were being foolish then."

"And look where we are now," he shrugged. "We have been married for thirty years and we have a beautiful daughter who is clever…funny…and she comes for runs with her old man whenever we're together. All I am saying, Sarah, is that we are not entitled to tell her how she should feel despite her only having known him for a week. And from what she has told us he has been a rock over this past week. He's looked after her."

"And he's also the reason why she was in a hospital bed."

"That's not fair and you know it," he responded. "He…we cannot even begin to imagine what he has gone through…and yes, I am nervous and I would prefer for her to find someone who hasn't been brainwashed by psychopaths, but this is where we are."

"I can't believe I am hearing this from you," Sarah complained and he helped her stuff the duvet quilt into a fresh cover, holding onto the ends of it with her. "So what do you suggest we do?"

"I don't know," Alistair replied. "But what we can't do is invalidate her feelings. She cared for him and he cared for her. We don't stay here and tell her to move on…forget about him…tell her that he's no good. Because that will just push her away and I don't want to do that, Sarah. I don't want to push her away from us."

They finished their stuffing and laid the duvet on the end of the bed and changed the sheet underneath it. It was then when Alistair saw the little stuffed penguin on the top of her bed. He smiled and went around to pick it up. Holding it in his hands, he showed it to his wife.

"Remember this?" he asked from her.

She smiled and continued moving around the bed, stuffing the sheet under the mattress. "She wouldn't go anywhere without that when she was little. You got her it from that shop after we went penguin watching that time. She was obsessed with them."

"It's looking a bit tatty," he said, smoothing his hand over its head.

"Well it is about twenty-two years old," Sarah said and he placed it on top of Evelyn's pillow before helping his wife move the duvet up the bed and make the bed.

Sitting down on top of the bed, Sarah sighed. Alistair went to sit next to her, hearing the running of water over their silence from the bathroom. Placing a hand on his wife's hand, he felt her engagement ring under his fingertips and he smiled.

"You know that she is an adult now," Alistair said. "We cannot control who she likes…wants to be with…and the fact that he walked away from her because he was scared of putting her in danger again tells me a lot about the type of man who he is."

"I've thought about that too," Sarah said.

"It's not easy to walk away."

"I guess not," she responded earnestly.

Patting her hand, he smiled to her, the motion not quite reaching his eyes like it usually did. "Come on, we need to go to the store and fetch her some food."

Sarah agreed with that. They heard the water turn off in the bathroom and Sarah knocked on the door. She double-checked that her daughter would be fine for an hour while they popped out. Evelyn said she would be. She remained in the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and sat on the edge of her bathtub. She clutched onto the sides of it and tried to keep her voice even, despite the tears falling down her face. She had spent her time in the shower openly crying, the noise of the water drowning the sound out.

It was only once she was certain her parents had gone did she collect her clothes from the floor. She tossed them into the wash basket, except for the letter she had in her pocket. Leaving the steamy bathroom, she went to her bedroom and changed into her pyjamas. She towel dried her hair and hid the letter in her bedroom drawer. Tossing her towel onto the radiator in the corner, she climbed into bed and rested on her side. She saw her stuffed penguin next to her and she grabbed onto it, cuddling it to her as she went to sleep.

….

Evelyn spent the next few weeks healing at home. She had been visited by her friends from the museum who were shocked at what had happened. Rebecca had been the sceptical one, sensing that something was off. She suspected that something more than a home invasion had happened, but Evelyn assured her that everything was fine. Evelyn had been forced to sign an NDA as well. Maria and her husband had also visited and her parents had left them alone and given them time to talk.

Alistair and Sarah had stayed by their daughter's side the entire time. She was almost finding it suffocating, but she said nothing. They hadn't mentioned Bucky or anything else. Instead, they tried to keep conversation light and focused on making sure that Evelyn had everything she needed. Her father would go out running in the morning while Sarah would go shopping, coming back with sweet treats, bath product and flowers for her daughter. Lisa had called her multiple times in the week, regardless of what time it was in London.

But there was one visitor Evelyn hadn't expected to see. She had been alone one morning while her parents went out. She had insisted they go for brunch and they had guessed that their daughter needed time on her own for a little while. She deserved that much.

"Evelyn," he spoke, his voice deep.

"John," she said, opening the door and removing the chain. "What are you doing here? How did you know where I lived?"

"I have ways," he told her. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," Evelyn said and she stepped back. She let him close the door as she wandered to the kitchen. "Can I get you a drink or anything? I just made a cup of herbal tea if you want one?"

"Sounds good," he said and she saw that he was holding a bunch of flowers. "Sorry, I bought these for you…you know…" he said and Evelyn managed a soft smile. She took them from him as he looked around her apartment. "Seems you've got quite a few bouquets."

"Yeah," Evelyn said. "Friends and family…I mean…I'll be honest, it's nice, but I'm getting tired of visitors coming round here and asking me how I am doing and wanting to know what happened. It's like…some of them…it feels voyeuristic."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come. I didn't think that you'd have had so many visitors."

"No," she said shaking her head and pouring him a cup of tea. She adjusted her glasses on her eyes and winced as she caught the bruising on her face. "I mean, they told me that you knew what happened so at least I won't have to pretend with you. Just promise me that you're not going to sit here and spend time pitying me, okay?"

"I can do that," he said.

She handed him a cup of tea and she placed the flowers into the sink, letting water run over their stems. She had no idea where all of the vases had come from so far, but she suspected her mother had something to do with it. She walked tenderly to the sofa with her own tea and John followed her. He sat down on the other end of the seat as Evelyn placed her mug on the coffee table.

"So how are the injuries?" John asked from her.

She sighed and shrugged. "Healing," she said. "The ribs don't hurt as much and the swelling on my face has gone down meaning I can finally wear my glasses and see."

"That's good," John said to her with a nod, unzipping the leather jacket he wore and sipping on his tea. "I actually came to tell you that we've had a hit on your boss. They were going to send someone else, but I thought that I would come and see how you were getting on. He was found trying to catch a flight out of New York to Madrid."

"What happened to him?"

"Well, he was wanted for embezzlement as things stood. Turns out that's how they blackmailed him to get to you," John said. "But he'll be going away for a long time. You know…when they told me the full story…I was worried."

"They told me that you came forward to tell them about Dominic," Evelyn said. "I had no idea that they would tell you everything else, but you never mentioned that you were such a big deal."

John chuckled and shrugged. "I don't like to brag," he said and sipped on his tea again. "But yeah, I've been researching some of the organisations who want to take us back to life before the blip."

"On top of being in charge of the new recruitment policy?" she asked from him.

"Yeah," he said. "It's pretty hectic. Anyway, they told me everything…about Bucky…I would have thought that he would be here with you. Has he popped out?"

John had ulterior motives for asking that question, of course. He knew that it would be beneficial if he could get close to Bucky and find out more about him. It would also be good to have Bucky on his side when the time came. Bucky and Sam had been Cap's friends and he could sure use some of them. But the look on Evelyn's face told him that something had happened. Had he overstepped the mark? He had thought that the two of them were close.

Evelyn reached for her tea and let her eyes focus on the liquid in her cup. She pulled the sleeves on her white jumper down her fingers and let her woollen-covered hands engulf her mug. "He left," Evelyn said to John. "I haven't seen him since Sam…Falcon…took me to hospital."

"He just left?" John checked with her.

"Yeah," she said. "But whatever…I mean…he's…he's gone so that's it."

John knew there was something else there. She wasn't happy. She looked anything but happy. In fact, she looked upset, but she was trying to contain her emotions.

"Well, more fool him," John said. "Anyway," he changed the topic quickly, "you know that I've seen things too…I mean…being kidnapped…I know how it impacts people…the nightmares."

Evelyn bit down on her tongue. She hadn't told anyone about those. Thankfully she always awoke in a sweat, panting but not screaming or drawing attention to herself. They would vary as well. The nightmares were never the same. Some of them ended with her dying. Others ended with Bucky dying. Some ended with Bucky telling Andrew to kill her, that she meant nothing to him. He would walk around her and tell her how she was worthless, how she had been a bit of fun. Those were the worst ones.

"You don't need to tell me about them," John promised her. "But just know that if you need to talk to someone then it can help."

"Thank you," Evelyn said gratefully.

"You don't need to thank me," John said and drained off the rest of his drink. "I should get going. I'm needed back at work. Listen, about the research…we can start it whenever you go back to work. I'm a quick learner so you don't need to worry about that."

"I should be back in the next few weeks," Evelyn confirmed to him.

"Don't rush," he said and moved to his feet. "Anyway, thanks for the drink. Sorry it was only a quick visit, but I just wanted to check how you were doing."

"Better," she said. "Thanks for dropping by."

"Anytime," he shrugged. He put his mug in the dishwasher and urged Evelyn to remain seated. She waved goodbye to him as he let himself out of her apartment. Placing her own mug down, she slumped against her sofa and closed her eyes, shaking her head. She had to get out of this slump. She had to do something so that she didn't feel like crying whenever someone mentioned Bucky's name.

…..

Sam had managed to trace Bucky down to New York. He had been on a mission for a few weeks, but he remembered what he had told Maria and Evelyn. He also remembered what he had told Steve. He was going to do everything in his power to find Bucky and convince him that he was wrong about what he had done. He had used his connections in the Force to find out that Bucky had moved to Brooklyn.

He found his apartment easily, knocking on the door and waiting for an answer. Opening the door, Bucky almost groaned loudly as soon as he saw Sam. Sam peered over his shoulder and into the apartment, looking around it and wrinkling his nose at the sight of it.

"How is this apartment even more empty than the one you had in D.C.?" Sam dared to wonder from him.

"What do you want, Sam?" Bucky asked. "And how did you find me?"

"You're a civilian, Buck," Sam said and stepped around him to move into the apartment. It was almost the same as D.C. There was a sofa with a blanket and pillow. "You have a credit score…but the next step is to get you on Facebook. Plus I'm still in the Air Force so I can find out where you live pretty easily. Hey, you have a dining table in this place!"

"That didn't answer my first question," Bucky said to him, closing his apartment door as he was certain that he wasn't getting rid of Sam anytime soon. "What do you want?"

"Well, what I'd really like to do is beat your ass for skipping out of town without telling anyone," Sam said to him. "Thanks for that, by the way. I had to face the wrath of one of Evelyn's friends and I'll be honest, she terrified me more than some of those aliens in Wakanda did."

"You know why I left," Bucky said, grabbing the beer he had been drinking from the side and draining some of the liquid. He went to his fridge and pulled another bottle out, tossing it to Sam. He pulled the lid from it and took a swig as Bucky went to sit back down on his sofa.

Sam pulled a dining chair out and sat down on it, straddling it and resting his arm over the back of it, holding his beer in his other hand.

"I know why you left," Sam agreed, "but I think that it was a stupid way to go. A letter, really? Couldn't even look the girl in the eye and tell her?"

"I didn't want to hurt her."

"Oh, I think you did just that by leaving that letter," Sam responded to him. "No matter what you intended to do, Buck, leaving a letter for her wasn't the way to do it. She had a right to have you tell her to her face."

Bucky leant back and closed his eyes for a moment. "Have you seen her?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D. have someone keeping an eye on her for the next few weeks to make sure she is safe and adjusting back to normal life," Sam said. "I know the guy who is looking after her. He said that she has returned to work at the museum, but that's about it. She doesn't go out. She has friends visit her apartment, but she has hardly been out."

"She'll have been healing."

"Physically, yeah," Sam said with a nod. "Mentally, we both know how hard that can be. You more than most."

"She…" Bucky trailed off, uncertain of what more he wanted to say. He couldn't find the right words and so Sam continued talking instead.

"And you?" Sam wondered from Bucky. "Have you moved on? Because I have to tell you, it looks pretty depressing this life you're living. You do know it is three in the afternoon and already you're drinking beer. What are you even doing?"

"I do stuff."

"Really?" Sam checked, "because it looks like you're just moping around in a barely decorated apartment. How do you even afford this place? It's like a piece of prime real estate here."

"I have money," Bucky replied. "So is that why you're here? To berate me for writing a letter and leaving a girl to go about her life without fear of being kidnapped and tortured? Because if it is then you've had a wasted trip. I did the right thing."

"For who?" Sam wondered, "because from where I'm sitting you look miserable and she also seems pretty miserable. So who does this benefit?"

Bucky took another drink. "She won't be miserable forever."

"And you?" Sam wondered. "You're not supposed to live like this, Buck. You're supposed to go back to normal and not live in fear of what could happen. If it makes you feel any better, we have a better eye on what is going on out there…to make sure nothing like this ever happens again."

"You can't promise that will happen."

"And you can't be so sure that it will," Sam responded with a firm shake of his head. "Jeez, Buck, I heard you on the phone with that girl. I never even knew you could be so smooth. I never knew you had more emotions other than brooding and angry. She…she means something to you and you shouldn't push her away out of fear. Do you want this life? Do you want to be miserable?"

"Of course I don't," Bucky responded. "But what else can I do?"

"Give it a shot," Sam said, "go to her and give it a shot. If you're not going to do that then at least give her an explanation…mainly so her friend doesn't have my balls next time I'm back in D.C."

"I'll think about it," was all that Bucky said.

Sam watched him and sighed, wondering what was going on in his mind before he took another drink and shook his head, wondering if Bucky had it in him to take a risk on her.

….

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who is reading and to everyone who has been kind enough to leave a review! Glad you're enjoying it. Your reviews are great motivation! Look forward to hearing your comments/suggestions!