It had been hours ever since Bucky and I had escaped England. We needed to stay hidden from the ship's crew, which wasn't too hard considering the whole deck was loaded with large containers and almost none of them ever left from inside since it was pouring.

I was just sitting there, leaning against one of the containers while staring up at the sky and letting the rain pour down on me. For some sort of weird reason it felt refreshing. It was pouring out my old life, it seemed, cleaning me and making me whole again.

Well, not physically, I was ice cold and shivering violently. Not even when I wrapped my arms around myself and snuck my knees up till my chest did I feel even the slightest bit of warmth. It was March, the spring had only just begun.

"Here." Bucky finally spoke up. My head hot up at the sound of his voice, finally hearing something besides the rain falling down and the crashing off the sea.

I looked down at what he was handing me, my old trenchcoat. "Where did you get that?" I looked up at his blue eyes hesitantly before taking my coat and wrapping it around me. It would be an understatement to say that I was still uncomfortable in his presence. I couldn't get the image of him fighting those agents out of my head.

"I managed to pack a few things." Bucky said while looking into his backpack for more supplies. He got out a sack full of plums, some biscuits that he handed to me and finally my sketchbook.

"Are you serious?" My eyes lit up at the sight and I immediately grasped it, flipping through the pages. Looking up at Bucky I saw a small smile forming on his lips. For a moment I savoured the look on his face, reminding myself that this was him, maybe the man I saw at the gas station was someone else. "Thank you." I semi whispered.

Bucky only nodded and his expression turned serious again, staring ahead of him.

"So where are we going?" I tried to talk with him. The fear came back when his eyes narrowed again. His wrists and gloves were still covered with blood. If his jacket hadn't been black, it'd probably be red with blood.

"We'll arrive at Amsterdam in an hour." Bucky answered and flipped through his notebook.

"And then what?" I asked. Bucky looked at me for a moment, he almost seemed irritated. He narrowed his eyes slight, silently telling me to shut up or to just simply not ask too many questions. At least, that's what I thought he was hinting at.

So I nodded, wrapping my arms around my knees and pulled them closer against me. With the silence came the thinking, and with thinking came the realization. Looking at the horizon, I softly spoke up. "Was any of it true, what you told me?"

It wasn't like Bucky spoke much back in London whenever we met in the park. He would mostly listen to me or just laugh softly, his eyes twinkling with happiness. It's not like I gave him many opportunities to speak but when I did ask something, he only answered in short sentences. From those answers though I puzzled something together.

I could feel his gaze on the back of my neck but I couldn't make myself look at him. There was a silence and it stretched, only broken by a deep sigh of Bucky.

Even though he didn't answer, I had my answer. And it hurt, more than anything.

~

After getting off the ship Bucky quickly got us out of Amsterdam. No matter how much I complained, he wouldn't let me see the canals. He only drove us further away from the city. With every stop I became more nervous, especially when Bucky went off to pay for the gas. Mostly I'd just stand somewhere nobody could see me but I could see everything.

When it was getting dark and we were almost the only one on the road, he stopped near a bungalow park and parked his bike against the fence.

He threw his backpack over it and then waved his hands together and knelt down in front of me. "Go on." Bucky nodded at me to jump over, and so I did, rather clumsily I might add. He on the other hand got on the other side with ease, landing gracefully.

He walked towards the closest bungalow and retrieved some lock picks from his backpack.

"James?" My voice sounded hoarse, my throat hurting. We had been awake for 39 hours straight. We didn't drink that much also, or eat. Not that I was hungry anyway. "How do we know that there's nobody in there?"

Bucky ceased his actions and slowly turned towards me. "It's a normal Wednesday." He said slowly and turned back towards the lock.

"But what if-" I heard the lock click and Bucky immediately grasped his gun, keeping it ready while he walked into the house. He turned around every corner swiftly, his eyes concentrated.

"It's clear." Bucky stated, looked back at me, seeing me standing there, still outside in the rain. I was hesitating whether to go inside and accept that I was with him now or to run away from him and the problems and try to start a new life somewhere in Amsterdam.

"Grace?" Bucky frowned and for the first time ever since we left my apartment, I saw some kind of emotion in his eyes. He slowly walked towards me and looked at my shoulder. He pried my hand away from it, examining the wound. "You're hurt." He stated matter of factly.

"It was just a graze, I got lucky." I mumbled, looking at the forest close by. But the other guy didn't. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to get rid of the image of his body. His pictures that I found in one of his pockets together with his phone were still in my pocket. I could feel Bucky's gaze on me. "I just need to make sure it doesn't get infected." I met his blue eyes.

"Do it quickly, we'll need to get up early tomorrow morning and you need the rest." Suddenly he was all professional again, all the light gone from his eyes and replaced with the cold iron. He walked inside the house, putting his guns and rifles on the table.

"James?" I was reminded of the situation again and for a moment I thought I saw the killer back in his eyes when he looked at me. It reminded me of the reality, that I still didn't know who he was and what he wanted from me. Or how he could fight like that, why he lost his memories.

"My name is Bucky." He stated with his back turned towards me.

Something snapped within me, like a rope that had been pulled on for too long. He even lied about his own name. It made me realize that I couldn't trust him, that I wasn't safe, that he wasn't some kind of hero. No, he kidnapped me. It caused me to grasp the gun from my belt, get the safety off and aim it at him.

I saw his shoulders tense underneath his red shirt, breathing in deeply and then letting the air out of his nose slowly. "You don't want to do that." Bucky said as he lifted his head.

My hand with the gun was shaking violently, barely holding it together. I bit on my lip when Bucky turned around to look at me. He didn't even seem frightened, just tense.

"Put the gun down, Grace." Bucky said with his hands slightly raised. He looked into my eyes with an intense gaze.

"No!" I yelled and then bit my lip to contain my whimpers. I composed myself, taking in a deep breath to calm my nerves. "For this once I want the truth." I continued in a rush. Bucky only sighed and directed his gaze towards the floor.

"Who are you and what do you want from me?" Even my voice was shaking, trembling. Especially when Bucky looked back up, when his iron gaze met my eyes again. I was more scared than Bucky even though I was the one holding the gun.

"Just put the gun down." Bucky ordered and took a step towards me. "I'm only here to save you."

"I'm not stupid James!" I yelled again and held the gun with both hands to try and stop the shaking. "I don't believe in fairy tales like that. People don't just do things without expecting something in return."

"Put the gun down." Bucky repeated as he took several steps towards me again, now only a few steps away.

"Don't move or I swear I will shoot." I aimed higher, at his chest.

"I'm your only chance of getting out of here." Bucky reasoned and stopped with walking, his hands slightly raised higher.

"And then what? What is the price I'll have to pay?" I laughed in fear, stepping back myself. "No, this time I want to know who I'm working for."

"Put the gun down, Grace." Bucky whispered and sighed. I could see that there was anger or frustration building up inside of him. "I think we've seen enough death for today."

My breath caught in my throat. Was I really ready to kill another man? To pull the trigger and see the light go out on the other side? I knew I wasn't and I never would be again.

"Are you one of them?" My voice was unusually high, a few tears streaming down my cheeks. "Are you Hydra?"

Bucky's eyes narrowed at me. "You're not going to shoot." He said.

"You want to try me?" I raised my eyebrows slightly as my finger touched the switch. Maybe I couldn't kill, but I could hurt. I could see how his eyes were fixed on the trigger, slightly flinching when I touched it.

"Are. you. one. of. them?" I spoke each word clearly. Well, at least as clearly as I could with the lump that was stuck in my throat and the fear that was flowing through me.

Bucky slowly took the last steps towards me, looking right at my eyes. When he took one step closer, I took one further till my back hit the wall behind me. That didn't stop him from approaching, no, he kept on coming closer till my back was pressed against the wall and the back of the gun was touching my chest, the gun being the only thing between us.

I dared not even speak, it felt like I was frozen there. Or like some trapped animal, trapped in a corner with a lion. My breath shook when he put his hand on the gun slowly, pushing it down and away from his chest. His eyes never left mine though, not even when he put the safety back on with just one hand. He put the gun in a holster on his own belt while I clenched my fists on both sides of my body, pressing my nails into the skin of my palm.

I could hear his breathing, feel the warmth of his chest. I would've tried to get away but I felt like a deer stuck in the headlights, the headlights being his eyes. His right hand searched my belt for any more weapons but his gaze never did leave mine, even not when I closed my eyes in fear. I bit on my lip to try and hold back my cries which were trying to escape.

When I opened my eyes again though I swear I saw his flickering down from mine, staring at my lips for a short time. They opened slightly in surprise, especially when I felt his hand softly touching my cheek. Bucky frowned, his eyebrows scrunching together in confusion when his finger followed the shape of my cheekbone. That was soon over though, he suddenly turned away, walking back towards the table without another word.

I couldn't bring myself to walk away from that spot. It felt like I was glued to the wall like wallpaper, stuck there forever. I let a few tears escape my eyes as I laid my head down against the wall and stared up at the ceiling.

"You should get some rest." Bucky said as he rolled out a map on the table.

He didn't need to tell me that a second time. I rushed into one of the bedrooms, slamming the door and gliding down against it till I sat there on the floor.

That's when the tears started streaming, when I had to muffle my cries with everything that I had. I lost my home, my education and I killed someone. My hands took the pictures and the phone out of my pocket. At first I tried to look through his phone for a way to search for his family but I didn't have his password.

Then I looked at the pictures. One of them was old, still in black and white. There were three young boys sitting next to each other with their arms around each other's shoulders, grinning at the camera. The other one was one of a young man with a baseball bat next to him, leaning against an old car with his arms crossed before his chest and wearing a goofy grin.

The last one was the worst though. I recognized the man, he was standing in the middle of the picture, smiling happily with two little girls in his arms. They were probably around five, both wearing two ponytails on each side of their heads. Then there was his wife. He was looking at her proudly, her wide smile and her rosy cheeks.

We'll see you next Christmas, the girls will miss you. -xx- Elisabeth. Was written on the front. When I turned it around there was red from his blood but I could vaguely decipher another message. Please come back home safely.

I supressed another sob, closing my eyes and laying my head back on the wall.

"Grace?" There was knocking on the door. Bucky waited a few seconds for a response. "Grace, open up." He demanded and knocked a few more times. "Look, I know this is new for you but..." He sighed. "Just open the door, please."

I couldn't get myself to answer though. When I heard his retreating footsteps I found the will to stand up and drag myself over to the bed where I fell down and sighed. I closed my eyes, preparing myself for some sleep I knew I wasn't going to get.

I've got a lot to make up for. But I'll make it all up to you, Elisabeth. Even if it's the last thing I'll ever do.