Prologue

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Bucky's POV

I just wanted some plums.

Why couldn't I just live a wonderful life with my marvelous plums?

Just a normal Tuesday. I had just been to buy some fruit (plums, sugar plums, did I mention plums?) at the little local market. I had been living in the small Bucharest town for a few weeks now. I'd become friends with the locals, they accepted me. But in the back of my broken brain, I knew it was because they didn't know the truth. They didn't know the Winter Soldier.
It was just a regular Ol' Tuesday. I went to the bookshop, finding a few new books to read. (there was one called Harry Potter that seemed...interesting) After I had grabbed a nice coffee to keep me awake, I went to the small stand to finally complete the last of my errands. Wanna take a guess? Finally I could get my majestic and glorious P l u m s .

I felt the small fruits with my metal arm. It had some amounts of feeling but only in the middle, pointer, and ring finger. After fighting and constant malfunctioning I thought about just ripping it off all together. The old lady who ran the stand was kind and waited patiently. I picked a small basket, holding it gently, and handed the old lady her money. Walking back to my quaint apartment was calming. The small town atmosphere and desolate streets almost put me at ease. Almost. Something was prickling at the back of his skull. Call it memories, my lack of sleep, or maybe actual intuition, something was bothering me.

I opened the door to my most recent home. It was small, only one room (minus the bathroom) but just enough for me. If someone looked close, I wouldn't even try to hide the pillow and blankets on the floor. Or the untouched bed that just collected dust.

Being on the run so long had made me develop small habits. Keeping everything clean incase I needed to make a quick run was a constant. Not using the kitchen much was instinct, I didn't like cooking much because cooking brought back memories. Of my mom and sister-

No. I couldn't start down that road. Or I wouldn't come back.

The bed was pristine while covered in dust, as it had been the first day I'd started renting it. It was too soft, I felt like I'd be swallowed whole. Nightmares plagued me so the floor became the only answer for even slight amounts of rest. Even then I barely got six hours...a week.

I put the plums in the small fridge that came with the apartment. Closing the door, I turned to put the books on the counter. Then I saw the suit. The familiar blessed star-spangled curse. The suit I'd dreamed and prayed to see again. The man in the suit wasn't the one I knew though. I knew the little guy from Brooklyn. Not this towering man in front of him. His voice rang in the small room with practiced ease. A commanding presence. Deep, but not the calming tone I used to cherish.
"Buck. I'm gonna need you to come with me." I ignored him unintentionally. Lost in thoughts, thoughts of how I'd prayed and pleaded to hear that voice rescue me again. The shocks and torture I'd endure just holding on to the hope that I, James Buchanan Barnes, would be rescued.

Steve had moved closer. He snapped his fingers in front of my eyes. When I finally looked at the Star-Spangled man, Steve's voice was low almost a whisper.

"Buck-"

I answered before Steve could finish. "No."

Steve looked defeated and saddened but still on edge. His sky blue eyes search my own. Looking for something that he clearly didn't find. Then it hit me. Steve, just like everyone else, thought I was a danger. A caged tiger waiting to snap and attack with a few words.

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