❛   𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞   ❜

❝ you feel like home. ❞

WASHINGTON — JUNE 2014

          HER hands shakily reach up, trapping her braided hair in her hands. Pulling it over her right shoulder, Anastasia forced herself to open the front door to the building. The glass was weighted, feeling heavier due to the dread that sat at the bottom of her gut.

Blinking nervously, Ana winced as the pain still lingered behind her eye.

The carpet floor muted her footsteps. The skinny jeans she wore felt somewhat restricting on her legs. The grey sweater engulfed her body; being two sizes too big. The sleeves went past her hands, but they were pushed back to her wrists.

Approaching the receptionist, she kept her head angled down. "I'm here for Margaret?"

The young women looked up, offering a kind smile. "Last name?"

"Carter."

The receptionist's hand extended to the right, a blue pen trapped between her fingers, "She's down the hall in room three-oh-two. Take this visitors pass, please."

Anastasia nodded in a quiet thanks, taking the small clip-on badge. She kept it in her fist, slowly shuffling down the hallway.

The walls were a pale yellow, picture frames of the residents littered around. The carpet was a darker mustard-yellow, giving it all a 40s feel. She noticed the florescent lights above were still antique; shining an aging yellow instead of the usual white.

Anastasia took a small comfort to the yellow-themed corridor, giving her a strange sense of home.

Wherever home was...

Standing in front of room 302, she clutched the pass tighter in her hand, hearing the plastic covering crinkle under the pressure. With her free hand, she reached forward and slowly opened the door.

"Knock, knock...?" Anastasia softly called, slowly inserting her head inside. "Peggy?"

At the far end of the room was a large rectangular window, allowing sunlight to flood in. The evening sun was partially peaking in, giving the room a warm glow. There was a small cushioned seat to the right, with a small table.

On the table were multiple pictures of her from various events throughout her life. Almost all of them were black and white.

Near the windows was a bed, with an elderly women resting on it. She still had a full head of white hair, and it flowed around her face and shoulders. Peggy's faces was angled towards the window, watching the tree branches slowly sway in the breeze outside.

Anastasia softly closed the door behind her, putting down the pass on the seat.

Rounding the bed, she pulled up a small chair and sat with her back facing the warm sun. Peggy's eyes shifted from the window to her, face lighting up instantly.

"Anastasia? Is that you?" Peggy's gravely voice asked as she struggled to sit up in her bed. She was smothered in knitted blankets and fluffy pillows. "You're alive?!"

She nodded, quickly scooting closer to the bed so Peggy didn't have to strain herself too much. "Peggy, it's really me." She grabbed the elderly woman's hand, holding it firmly. Tears welled in her eyes.

"It's a long story, but after Steve and I went down, I survived somehow and ended up with Hydra."

Peggy's eyes seemed to wash over with fear and anger, softly tugging her hand away. Anastasia held on to it tighter, shaking her head in shame, "I'm out now, a-and I wanted to come see you before I go."

She felt Peggy suddenly squeeze tightly, starting to shake even, "I've missed you so much—"

The two women started to laugh and cry at the same time, clutching onto each other as if it was going to be the last time they'd see one another.

"Tell me what I've missed, Peggy." Anastasia tucked the left side of her hair behind her ear, glancing at the picture frames around them.

"I see you have a family. That's very exciting. And, I've learned a thing or two about what you've all done for SHIELD. You seem to have a rewarding resumé."

Peggy's wrinkled mouth pressed into a thin line as she craned her head to look at the pictures. She hummed in acknowledgment, gazing back up at Anastasia, "I have lived a long life."

She sighed softly, leaning her head back in thought, "Steve and I had this conversation, I just remembered."

"Steve was here?" Anastasia's voice was weak, appearing seemingly scared of the name. Makes sense, though.

Peggy's head turned, offering the younger woman a nod, "James too. He came in last week. I'm shocked you all are still here after so long."

Anastasia stayed quiet, mulling over her words. They've all visited Peggy in a span of two months.

Taking a dry swallow, Anastasia leaned in more, patting the back of Peggy's hand, "Listen, Marg, I'm going on a trip and I'm not sure when I'll be back, so I wanted to say goodbye for now. I'm sort of making my rounds."

She thought back to the small graveyard she previously visited.

Peggy appeared hurt, but understanding, not choosing to question it further. "I understand, dear. Try not to stay away for too long. We must catch up properly next time."

Anastasia's bottom lip quivered, inhaling sharply to suppress her emotions, "Of course. I couldn't leave my best friend behind like that."

The two gave a confirming nod to one another before Anastasia stood up to hug Peggy.

BUCHAREST — AUGUST 2014

          SQUINTING up against the sun's rays, Anastasia's eyes landed on the building. Sliding off one strap of her backpack, she unzipped the top to dig for the newspaper ad.

She read over the Romanian text. It listed the address, number, square feet and who to call.

She inhaled sharply through her nose as a squeeze of anxiety pinched her stomach. Her feet automatically brung her forward, and she entered the aged building.

The lobby was bare; having no more than a front desk, a few pieces of furniture, a potted planet and the staircase at the far end.

Anastasia's head moved with her eyes, taking in the tranquil place. Under the rim of her cap, she forced a smile.

"Hello?" An elderly voice called out, in Romanian tongue. At first, Anastasia tensed from being addressed, but quickly relaxed her shoulders and turned to them.

It was an aged woman, guessing to be in her mid-fifties by Ana.

She broke out a smile towards the owner. "Hi," Anastasia spoke in the foreign language. Her hand lifted, which fisted the cut out a newspaper ad. "I saw the listing for your apartment and was wondering if I could move in?"

The woman squinted, reaching out her hand whilst putting on her glasses. Anastasia passed it over gently. She read over the paper, nodding slowly to herself. "Ah, yes. Apartment twenty-oh three. You don't mind the stairs, do you? It's quite a walk up."

"Not at all, ma'am. I could use the exercise." Anastasia tried to joke but cursed herself when her voice lacked humour. The third room on the twentieth floor? Sure, why not.

The woman nodded again, moving back to her small desk. "Good. It is a bachelor apartment; with one room with a bathroom. Rent will come to two hundred and fifty Euro every month, that includes utilities."

She seated herself and Anastasia caught the nameplate upon the wooden desk; Elena.

Elena peaked up at her. "I will also need to see some identification and proof of employment. There are other things I'll need to check, but we can do that later."

A cold sweat crossed Anastasia's forehead as she offered a nervous chuckle. "Actually, miss, I don't have those things."

Elena frowned deeply, slipping off her glasses and placing them on her desk. "I'm sorry?"

Anastasia leaned forward, placing a hand on the surface as well. "With all honesty, I'm just trying to lay low for a while."

Elena seemed to be offended by this, leaning back with shock. "Then I am sorry, but I can't—"

Before the owner could get too far, Anastasia dug into her pocket, pulling out a fistful of Euro bills and dumping it on the desk; all being fifties, hundreds and two hundred.

"I have money!" Her voice became slightly panicked. "I have all the money you need. I am asking is a place to stay. You won't even know I'm here. Just for a few months. I'll pay full...I just need a place. Please."

Elena quieted, switching her gaze between the money sitting in front of her and Ana. "I want to ask how you got this kind of money, but I'm almost afraid of the answer."

Anastasia swallowed, waiting with a clenched fist.

After what seemed like a while, Elena sighed, sorting through the money and collecting the first three months' worth of rent. She gathered the rest and gave it back to Anastasia.

"Fine. The first three months are good. But, if any law comes, it is not my problem."

"O-Of course," she broke into a grateful smile as her shoulders relaxed. "I cannot thank you enough, ma'am. It'll be like I was never here."

"You said that already," The owner hummed, passed over the main key, along with a spare. After giving her one more look of skepticism, she bided her a good day and disappeared behind a door labelled Employees Only.

Anastasia let out a shaky breath, blinking away the sudden tears that filled them. After calming down, she made for the stairs.

          SHE didn't mind walking the concrete stairs, finally relieved when she opened the door to her new home. It was one room; offering a twin mattress to her left and a small kitchen near the back, adjacent to the fire escape. She stepped forward, spotting a door beside the bed.

She opened it, examining the grimy bathroom. It was a small area but served its purpose. Of course, she made a mental note to pick up cleaning supplies when she went out again. Anastasia let her bag slide off her shoulders, tossing it on the mattress as she moved to the kitchen area.

It was small—of course—with a short fridge, a sink with a single bowl, two cabinets with a shelf in between and an electric stove across from it. The countertop had nothing more than a toaster, a small coffee maker and a container holding a few kitchen utensils.

She noticed a door and peeked out through the off-white coloured curtains.

A balcony.

That'll come in handy, probably. She thought with a hum as she made her way outside.

Leaning over the railing for a short moment, she noticed the building next to the complex was a few stories shorter. A bit of a jump, but a simple last resort if a getaway was needed.

With slight satisfaction, Anastasia went back inside. The walls were a pale green and the floor was a mix of brown carpet for the living area and white tiles for the kitchen and fire escape.

"Very mismatched," Anastasia muttered to herself in the quietness, smirking.

The window to her also had a curtain, but she grimaced at how thin and transparent they were. Digging through her bag, she revealed the tight roll of newspapers she carried. She tossed them on the mattress, mentally noting to put them over the windows later.

Being able to find a small pad of paper a stubby pencil, she wrote down the necessities; she was going shopping before nightfall. It felt uncanny to write after so long.

"It's good to have proper handwriting, you know." Her mother smiled as she sat down beside a youthful Anastasia. Her bony fingers moved to the side of the child's head, gently tucking hair behind her small ear. "It shows good character." She pressed a kiss to Anastasia's forehead, leaving a print of rouge-coloured lips.

Her heart suddenly hammered in her chest, causing her to drop the pad of paper and her writing utensil. Anastasia scrambled for her bag again, pulling away her clothes to grab the journal she stole a month back. Flipping to a new page, she dated it before entering the memory.

After she wrote it, she suddenly felt mad at herself. Her writing wasn't neat. Anastasia made another note to practice more in the future.

It seemed another one played in her mind right after as she fidgeted with the leather cover.

Her hazy vision lifted, finding the Winter Soldier—proclaimed by Steve to be Bucky—standing over her. Anastasia rose to her feet slowly, suddenly finding a sharp pain in her left foot. She winced, never looking away from the assassin.

He was motionless, staring back as water dripped off him. He finally broke eye contact with a blink, searching around them before bowing his head slightly.

Anastasia's eyes followed, landing on the Captain between them. He laid on the ground, steadily breathing with water drooling from his mouth.

"Did...did you know him well?" Bucky asked with hesitance as if his own voice was foreign to hear or use.

"Not that I can remember," she lied, dragging a hand over her face to rid the excess water. A chill was starting to settle over her skin. "Did you?"

"A little," his voice was hoarse. Silence fell once again before they met gazes. "Disappear. Don't let them find you."

Before she could reply or give her own warning, he turned and hobbled off, disappearing behind the thicket.

She paced in front of her bed, holding the small book to her chin in thought. Narrowing her eyes, the name set off alarms in her head. The tip of her pen touched the wrinkled paper, slowly sketching out the familiar name.

"Bucky...Barnes."

She ripped out the shopping list before closing the journal with a sharp snap. After tucking it under the mattress, Anastasia left to try and build a new life, locking the door behind her.

authors notes;

ok so catws was released in april, so
I'm assuming it takes place in april, so
this fic takes place a few months after
the events and then we time jump :)

quick shout out to ahsokatanos
for the idea of adding pictures of text
to show the character's writing! i
thought it was really creative in her
own bucky barnes fic (which is very
good and i highly recommend it)

thanks for letting me use the idea!