"Who are you?" I whispered into the darkness. I think I knew... Yet my heart still raced and my mind rushed to only one conclusion they'd found me again - they were going to kill me for escaping.

"It's Bucky, Zoe. You're safe." The hands disappeared. Of course... He was the one that had the bionic left arm, and hand.

I took a deep breath, shaking my head. Safe. I was safe. Oh my god! I'd punched Bucky in the face. "Shit, I'm so sorry." I pushed my hair out of my face, shuffling away from him.

"What for?" He asked, the bed sinking as he sat down, I think. I couldn't see, it was pitch black, it was better that way. If only I could live my life in pitch black, unable to see my sins, see the red. All I could see was the faint outline of his body.

"Waking you up." I yawned, covering my mouth. "Punching you. In the face."

"Don't worry." Was he laughing? "You've got a pretty good right hook. Besides I should know to give someone space after a nightmare, I've been through what you're going through."

"Thanks." I pushed my pillows back so I could lean on them, hugging my duvet covered knees.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. As my eyes adjusted to the light Bucky became clearer - he wore a plain red short sleeved shirt and a pair of pyjama trousers, his long hair hung in his eyes.

"Are you alright now?" Even in the darkness I knew Bucky was looking at me, I could feel his gaze on me. He was waiting for an answer. His body facing me in the darkness.

I froze, how could I answer that question? "Yes." A small lie.

"Nightmares..." There was a sigh. "If only they weren't real life huh?"

"You have no idea," I sighed too. My throat was tight now. I would not cry. I would not cry.

Bucky turned away from me, clenching his metal hand. "All the people I've killed, innocent people, all the things I've done. I remember doing them but..."

"You had no control over it, you had to," I finished for him. After all, I knew what he was talking about, I'd been through it too. I'd killed innocent chi-

Bucky looked back at me. "All the red on my hands, it just... Is there any part of me which isn't covered in red?"

I knew it was rhetorical, but I had to answer. "Out, damned spot, out I say," I whispered Lady Macbeth's quote.

"Shakespeare?"

"Yes." I shrugged even though he couldn't see me. "No matter how much good I do the red just can't be erased, it's there defining who I was, who I am, what I've done," my voice was now croaky. "No one else can see it but..."

"But you can and you will always know it's there." I felt a hand on my shoulder. "And no one ever seems to forget what you did, no matter how much good you do."

I reached up and gripped it. Even murderers needed comfort, not that he was a murderer, Bucky was a victim. And then there were monsters like me that didn't hide in the darkness and were in plain sight, who lied to their friends and everyone around them. I took a deep breath. "I'm alright now, you can go." I slipped my hand from his. I couldn't let him get close to me.

Bucky's hand left my shoulder and the bed sprang back up from where he had been sitting. "Thank you, Zoe."

"For what?" I asked into the darkness, standing up too. Who cares if he saw my metal foot?

Cool, minty breath blew on my face. "Helping me see past the red. Now I understand that there may be red on top, but underneath there's some pure white, deep down. Even if I can't see it, other people, you, can. I've worked this hard to be who I was, there's no point giving up now. They unconditioned me and took me out of cryogenic sleep even though I wanted to stay there for my sins, but the key words have no effect on me now - I'm finally me, even if I can still see the red." Bucky stepped back from me, his breath gone from my face.

The light of the hall shone for the briefest of moments before going out again. Bucky was gone.

I sighed, crawling back into bed. I felt as if a tiny, minuscule amount of guilt had been taken off of my shoulders as I drifted back to sleep. But it was only a minuscule amount from the heap that I had.

***

I groaned as I brushed my hair into a ponytail. Damn it, I'd forgotten to take my makeup off. Scrubbing rapidly I removed the panda eyes and makeup to reveal the not so dark eye circles and pale skin. To reveal me. Me in a black vest top with some black leggings and a denim jacket over the top.

I sighed, before wearing a smile as I swung into the living room.

"Hey Zoe." Sharon smiled at me before putting a tablet in her mouth. She was hungover.

"Hey Sharon." I laughed going up to her. An assortment of food lay on the table. Mmmm. I picked up a croissant, biting into it. Sweet jam and soft bread filled my mouth. Not bad. I took another bite.

"The bitch has arisen." Sam was walking towards us. Ouch, well then...

"You really shouldn't call yourself that," I laughed, finishing the croissant.

"Shut up," he mumbled, taking a croissant.

"Or what?" I asked, pouring myself a glass of orange juice.

The Falcon glared at me before going and sitting next to Steve.

I laughed downing the juice and putting the empty glass on the side, swinging over to an empty seat.

"Morning," was mumbled from the door way as Bucky wandered in, in a pair of jeans and a plain navy shirt, stretching his arms above his head. The metal one glinted in the morning light, it was actually quite beautiful.

"Hey Bucky." Steve looked to his best friend. "How you feelin?"

"Good." Bucky grinned at Steve. "I actually feel good."

"Hey Zoe?" I looked to see Sharon sitting on the arm of the chair I was in. "Do you want to go shopping today?"

"Sure," I shrugged. "As long as we go to Hot Topic."

"Emo," she mumbled.

"Elmo," I mumbled back, giving her a light shove.

Cool metal touched my wrists. "You're under arrest." Sharon stood up, waving the key in front of me.

"Oh dear." This was an old trick she used to do whenever I showed her up. I slipped the cuffs off, smirking at Sharon. "Nice try, agent."

"Whoa, how did you do that?" Sam asked.

"Slip the cuffs?" I swung them around on my finger. "Practice, plus I can dislocate my thumbs."

"Ewwww." Sam shuddered. "That's just nasty."

"Mmmm..." I shrugged. "But useful."

"If you get into trouble." Sam raised an eyebrow at me.

"Trouble, it's like a magnet to me." I stood up. "Well then, Sharon shall we go shopping?"

"Yes." Sharon stood getting her bag. "We shouldn't be gone too long."

"Unless something happens," I muttered, heading for the lift.

"Such as?" Steve asked, eyes on me again. If anyone was going to figure me out it would be him.

"I get hit by taxi?" I shrugged. "You never know."

Everyone rolled their eyes at me. Blue eyes that made my heart stop. Well, not literally otherwise I would die. I wouldn't be living on borrowed time any longer, which would be a good thing, but then I didn't want to die otherwise that person would have died for nothing. They couldn't have died for nothing.

***

Sharon walked down the street with me by her side. She held all of our bags as we headed to our last shop, a newsagents? The Avenger tower was at the end of the street. We'd already been to Victoria's Secret, Hot Topic, River Island and other clothes shops which I couldn't remember the name of. I guess I wasn't that interested anymore, not that I ever was.

Sharon picked up some Irn Bru for me and then some diet coke for her.

"You still remember my favourite drink?" I asked her as we came round to the till.

"Of course." Sharon smiled at me getting her purse.

"Give the money to me, now!" A scruffy, homeless (well he looked homeless anyway) guy stood in front of us. A gun in his hand. Shit. He was robbing the shop.

"Or what?" I asked, gripping my crutches tighter.

He pointed the gun at my head. "Boom."

"Wow." I shrugged, pushing my forehead to the gun. It was cold against my skin but I didn't shiver, I was used to the cold now. "I'm so scared."

"You s-should be," he stuttered. A bead of sweat slid down the man's temple, the gun shaking ever so slightly.

"You'd kill an innocence person?" I kept his nervous gaze. I could wear him down. "On crutches?"

"Y-yes." I just had to keep him talking.

"What's your name?" I let one of my crutches fall to the floor. My right hand still clutching one of them.

"What are you doing?" He asked. The gun was now shaking as he pressed it harder against my forehead.

"What are you doing?" I replied, not breaking eye contact. "Do you want to be a killer?" A killer like me...

"Shut up!" He yelled before the barrel of the gun hit my temple. I fell to the floor, swinging my crutch to hit him in the head. It shook in my hands as it snapped.

A loud thump sounded as he fell to the floor. But not before a bang sounded.

No pain. I was safe. I looked to Sharon. She was fine. The newsagent wasn't though. No.

I dragged myself over to him. Stomach wound. I ripped off my denim jacket, applying pressure to the wound. "Come on, stay with me," I begged. Red bled onto my fingers, through the fabric. "Stay with me, buddy. The hard part's over now."

"Police," the newsagent croaked before his eyes fluttered closed.

"Police!" Was echoed as the door of the shop slammed open, the bell ringing loudly.

"Alright, I know you're here," I shouted back, pressing harder on the newsagent's wound. I had to stop the bleeding.

"Sharon!" She was gone. The two bottles abandoned on the floor. Really? At least she'd taken the bags I suppose. But where had she gone?

"Hands up!" All guns pointed at me.

I looked to the police officers, shaking my head. "I need to-"

"Now!" Seriously? I lifted my bloody hands. This didn't look good. The blood dripped down my arms onto the floor.

"You're under arrest for murder!" A policeman put his gun away, producing some handcuffs.

"What is it with the shouting?" I asked as he slipped the cuffs on. "I'm not deaf. Keep pressure on the wound otherwise he'll die. He's not dead yet."

The police officer shook his head at me. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense."

"Is that just a polite way of telling me to shut up? Because if so, I'm innocent!" I shouted. I mean why not? Everyone else was.

The police officer gripped my arm a little too tightly. "Stand up!"

"I can't." I twisted my wrists in the handcuffs.

The police officer glared at me. "Stand up now, criminal!"

"For fuck sake, I can't! I cannot stand up! I can't feel my right fucking leg!" I screamed. "They're my crutches on the floor," I whispered, as my hair fell into my eyes. "I fought in the war, fought for peace and I got hurt - I can't feel my right leg."

"You can't arrest her," I looked up to see Sharon through my hair and a tall, brunette man. His lips on a thin line and his blue eyes glaring at the police officer. Hopefully they hadn't heard that...