TWENTY ONE LAMP POSTS 

Waking up in a strange place was something many people were used to, but not Ileana. What was even weirder was seeing maps on the walls, full of different coloured lines and not hearing the caw of the birds. All of this was irrelevant when she went to sit up, only to be greeted with a flash of pain and discomfort. She was unable to rein in the cry she released, curling her toes under the extreme agony. 

A hand touched her shoulder, another one gently pushing down on her chest. The hands left her when she was laid flat on her back, and the sight of Bucky entered her line of vision. "You might tear the stitches." 

Ileana nodded, lifting both her hands to sign something only to be stopped. Her right arm was restrained in a sling made of scraps of fabric. Curious, she moved it closer to her face to inspect it more when another wave of pain hit her. Bucky's hand touched her again, moving her arm back down. 

"Maybe I should've told you about that," he huffed a light laugh, standing up and rummaging in the corner. "I know you won't be able to sign for a while, so I got you something."

Ileana's eyebrows crinkled together. It had been a long time since someone had gotten her something, and it wasn't something she missed. The tradition of gift giving had always puzzled her - she never understood how getting someone a gift somehow meant you knew them really well. Ileana was the person who bought people gift vouchers last minute, with a card she hadn't taken a second glance at. It's not that she didn't appreciate people's efforts, it just seemed that people cared more about making themselves feel good by getting someone something they pretend to love when in reality it'll get cobwebs in the cupboard. 

At least, that's how she used to think.

Bucky turned around, and walked back towards her, something hidden behind his back. Eager, he sat down next to her, careful not to jolt her, and passed her the present. It was a notebook. Even more confused, Ileana turned to try and express her confusion but was shocked when she saw him holding a pencil in his hand happily. This time, he spoke in her language, his hands moving in a pattern only they could decipher. 

"I thought you could write down what you want to say. So you can still talk." 

She finally understood the useless act of gift giving. 

Tears sprung to her eyes, and she begged them to hide away. Uncaring to what she wanted, they ran down her cheeks, creating clean tracks on her dirt speckled face. Tenderly taking the pencil out of Bucky's hand, she opened the notebook and began to write, the pencil trembling in her weak grasp. 

Thank you.

Bucky smiled, his eyes focused on the jittery words longer than usual. Ileana noticed how his eyes had lightened up. He signed, "There's no need to thank me." 

Her tears soaked the paper, leaving marks next to her newly written words. 

Ileana. 

His brows pulled together, and he assessed the name she'd written on the paper. Was it someone she knew, a lost loved one? His curiosity soon was satisfied when she smiled shyly at his confusion, pointing a finger to herself. 

"Ileana," he tested her name on his tongue. It was foreign - he liked it. "It suits you." 

Happiness spread within her. It really seemed like she had a friend. She began to write something when a thought struck her. Hurriedly, she scribbled the words on the page. 

How did you get these? 

His smile faltered, dropping an inch. She noticed this, and prepared herself for the truth. "It doesn't matter," his hands moved with a flurry she'd never seen before. "How are you feeling?"

I'm feeling like I'm being lied to. You stole them, didn't you?

The smile had completely disappeared by this point, with no trace of it left behind. He clambered to his feet, busying himself with digging through his backpack to avoid his anger spiking. He needed to remain calm. This time, he spoke to her aloud. 

"Why does everyone assume the worst from me?" 

Ileana wanted him to turn around so that she could write what she wanted to say and show it to him - he kept his back turned. 

"I didn't steal them. I worked my ass off to get all the money for it, and I barely scraped enough together. I could've spent the money on more important things, like food, but I spent it on you. I spent what I had on you, because I know what it's like for people not to listen to you."

Ileana's heart ached. She'd already written what she wanted to say seconds within him walking away, but he wouldn't hear it until he came back. She wanted him to know that she didn't mean it, and that she was worried that he would get caught. Deciding to risk it, she tossed her pencil at his back. It pinged off the wall next to him, and Bucky's head snapped up from where it had been focused. He spun around, ready to unleash hell when he saw the notepad she was holding up. 

I'm sorry. 

Taking a deep and controlled breath, he shook his head. Attempting to make his apology more meaningful, he signed to her, "I'm sorry for how I reacted."

She took her eyes off of him for a moment to write down more words. 

It's okay. I'm just not used to people doing things like that for me. 

Bucky let his hands speak for him. "I understand."

Ileana grinned at him, yellowing teeth displaying themselves without any means of protection. She fought off a yawn, not wanting to be rude, but Bucky pointedly looked at her. Ileana succumbed to the pressure, writing down a quick goodnight in her notebook, then closing her eyes. She was asleep within minutes. 

 *

As Ileana slept, Bucky crept out of their hideout. Adorned in his favourite hat tilted far enough to block his eyes but to avoid arousing suspicion and a jacket, he took to the streets. Expertly he weaved through the crowds of people, dodging the oblivious ones with their eyes glued to their phones and brushing past the ones who were rushing their way to work. He was one of them, blending into the crowd and having a purpose. The purpose he had however, wasn't as pure as the rest. 

Coming across the street he needed, he broke free of the wave of people, casually tucking his hands into his pockets. To others, he was chilly and needed to warm his numb hands - he was programmed to not acknowledge the cold, and he was actually keeping his hands curled around weapons. Not that he needed them, however it was always an advantage. 

Bucky counted the number of lamp posts he passed, pausing before the twenty-first one. He assessed the area, prying for what he expected to find. 

There wasn't any blood. Or any police. 

Frowning, Bucky walked back to the first lamp post, and began walking up again, recounting. He knew he shouldn't doubt his ability, but he just needed to double check. The body was gone, and along with it, any trace of who they were, or who they worked for. He kicked himself for not getting the body the night that the mystery woman at his hideout was attacked; he was too occupied worrying if she would survive the night. If he hadn't chosen humanity, then he would know who wanted to find him, and not given a single damn if she died. 

Pushing away the Winter Solider may have been the best decision for his heart, but it hadn't helped him in war. 

Knowing that there was no point in trying to find a long lost body, he stormed back to the hideout, hoping to get answers out of the woman he'd stitched up three nights ago. People this time noticed that Bucky was different, and all stayed out of his way as he barged his way past everyone. He was angry, no he was furious, that he had taken a woman as a priority. And now they both were in danger. 

Stomping to the hideout, he noticed the woman trying to stand up. Heaving a large sigh, he rushed over and helped her back down. She protested, smacking his back with her non-broken arm - he didn't even notice it. Once she was laid on her back, she didn't look impressed. 

Too furious to use sign language, he snapped. "What the hell did you think you were doing?" 

She stared him down for a few moments, internally debating whether or not to stay silent just to annoy the holy hell out of him when she lost patience with that idea. Begrudgingly she picked up her notebook and scribbled down an answer. 

I was trying to get enough money to repay you. 

His hands had tightened into fists subconsciously. Her eyes had been glued to them the second he came in, and glancing down he saw. Slightly ashamed of himself, he pulled his fingers apart, so they now dangled at his side less threateningly. He tried to keep his hands busy - so they wouldn't form fists again - so pulled his hat off his head and held it awkwardly in his hands. "And what if that person who attacked you had friends?" 

She rolled her eyes, lazily writing something in her notebook. 

 I'm not paranoid, it was probably a random cult member or Jack the Ripper wannabe. Anyway, I have my knife.

Bucky laughed darkly, "Good thing you have your knife right? Because that will help you against a group of six people all trying to kill you." 

Why are you being such an ass about this?

"I'm being an ass because I heard they were asking about me."

You're James?

"Do you seriously think my parents named me Bucky? Yes, I'm James."

Wait - you heard them. You could've stopped them!

"I didn't have chance to, they shot you and then you went about stabbing the poor guy to death."

It all rushed back to her, the feeling of the knife becoming slick in her hands and their blank face. She attacked out of self defence, she didn't think about the effects of her actions. A weight formed in her stomach, and she found it difficult to swallow. She wanted to throw up.

Are they okay?

Bucky read over her words, taken aback for a moment. "It's likely that they're not."

So what are we going to do about it? 

"What?"

We can't hide in here forever, and one of us could get attacked when we're by ourselves. 

"I can teach you, if you want. Self defence." 

Really? 

"Sure, I've got nothing better to do." Ileana grinned, clumsily clambering up, intent on wrapping the man in her arms. Her body had other plans, shooting burning pain through her abdomen. Begrudgingly, she collapsed to the ground. "First you need to rest, you're going to need all of your energy."

A wave of excitement rode through Ileana, and she beamed.