I DIDNT REALLY CHANGE THIS CHAP ALOT BUT I ADDED THINGS WHICH ARE CUTE LIKE A FLASHBACK AHHH

BUCKY WAS PRACTICALLY ENGULFED
in the haunting solitude of his apartment, each day a relentless reminder of the absence of his beloved daughter, Ellie. Every corner, every creak of the floorboards, whispered her name, echoing the void in his heart. He couldn't bring himself to clean her room out,as if preserving it untouched might somehow beckon her return, a beacon of hope amidst the despair that threatened to eat him up.

His Ellie would come home.

Wandering through the apartment, his gaze would inevitably be drawn to Ellie's room, a sanctuary frozen in time, filled with remnants of her laughter, her dreams, her essence. The thought of clearing it out felt like erasing her existence, a betrayal he couldn't bear to commit.

Perhaps, deep down, he harbored a sliver of belief that one day, a call would shatter the silence, saying news of her whereabouts, and he would rush to her room, tears mingling with a bittersweet smile, as he craved it with the treasures he had almost bought, a silent tribute to the love that bound them.

Well, use too.

In moments of fleeting respite, Bucky would venture outside, seeking solace amidst the bustling streets, his steps guided by memories of Ellie's laughter and the shared moments that now seemed like fragments of a distant dream. Yet, even amidst the throng of life, he felt the weight of loneliness pressing down on him, a constant companion in his solitary journey.

He would see father's with their daughters or sons and crave the feeling of that. That was him and Ellie once. The way the child would laugh at their father, smiling up at them like they were the world, and the father would look at their child just them same, if not more.

It would break Bucky like nothing else.

Returning to the sanctuary of his kitchen, Bucky would sit at the table, a relic of happier times, where he and Ellie would share meals and conversations that danced between laughter and tears.

One memory stuck with him specifically. It wasn't anything special but it made him happy at how tiny and innocent she was.

Ten years ago

The late afternoon sun filtered through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over the small table where Bucky and his four-year-old daughter Ellie sat. The table was strewn with crayons, paper, and half-eaten cookies. It was one of those rare, peaceful moments when Bucky didn't have to worry about missions or danger-just a quiet afternoon spent with his daughter.

Ellie, her wavy hair tied up in a messy ponytail, was diligently coloring a picture of a rainbow. Her tongue poked out in concentration as she carefully chose each color. Bucky watched her with a smile, marveling at how quickly she was growing up.

"Daddy, look!" Ellie said suddenly, holding up her drawing. "It's a rainbow!"

Bucky leaned in to examine the picture, his heart swelling with pride. "That's beautiful, Ellie. You're quite the artist."

Ellie beamed, pleased with the compliment. She reached for another crayon, then paused, looking up at Bucky with wide, curious eyes. "Daddy, can you draw with me?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Bucky replied, picking up a blue crayon. "What should I draw?"

"Hmm," Ellie pondered, tapping her chin with a tiny finger. "Draw a unicorn! With sparkles!"

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. "A unicorn with sparkles, huh? That's a tall order. But I'll give it a try."

As he began to draw, Ellie watched him intently, her eyes following every stroke of the crayon. Bucky couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. These simple moments were what he cherished the most.

"Daddy, why is your arm made of metal?" Ellie asked suddenly, her voice filled with innocent curiosity.

Bucky paused, looking at her thoughtfully. "Well, it's a long story, Ellie. But it helps me be strong and protect people. And it helps me protect you."

Ellie nodded, accepting his answer without question. She reached out and touched his metal arm with her tiny hand, her touch gentle and filled with wonder. "I think it's cool," she said with a smile.

Bucky felt a lump form in his throat. "Thanks, kiddo. That means a lot to me."

They continued to draw in comfortable silence, the only sounds being the soft scratching of crayons on paper and the occasional giggle from Ellie. After a while, Bucky finished his drawing and held it up for Ellie to see.

"Ta-da! What do you think?" he asked, revealing a somewhat lopsided unicorn with sparkles that looked more like stars.

Ellie clapped her hands, her eyes shining with delight. "It's perfect, Daddy! You're the best artist ever!"

Bucky laughed, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. "I'm glad you like it, Ellie."

Just then, Ellie leaned over and planted a kiss on Bucky's cheek. "I love you, Daddy."

Bucky's heart melted. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. "I love you too, Ellie. More than anything in the world."

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, a ritual born out of necessity rather than preference, a feeble attempt to cling to the remnants of a world left behind.

As he savored the bitter-sweetness of the coffee, his reverie was interrupted by the persistent vibration of his phone. Retrieving it from his pocket, he glanced at the caller ID, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features as he recognized the name - Sam. Despite his silent plea for solitude, the urge to connect with another soul warred with his desire for isolation.

Answering the call, Bucky's voice betrayed a hint of apprehension, a shield against the vulnerability that threatened to consume him. "Hello?" he greeted.

"Hey, how are you?" Sam's voice, a lifeline in the sea of uncertainty, offered a glimmer of companionship amidst the desolation. Bucky's response was curt, a reflexive attempt to mask the tumult of irritation raging within him.

"Fine, is everything okay? Why are you calling me right now?" His words hung in the air, a fragile thread connecting him to the outside world, as he braced himself for the inevitable intrusion of reality.

Bucky Barnes strained to discern Sam's voice over the crackling static of the phone line, his heart pounding in his chest like a prisoner seeking escape from its confines. The silence stretched between them, a taut thread of anticipation, as Sam wrestled with words that seemed to evade his grasp.

Finally, Sam's hesitant voice broke through the barrier of uncertainty, each syllable heavy with the weight of revelation. "Don't freak out or anything...but, I think we have your kid," he confessed, the words hanging in the air like a fragile promise, teetering on the brink of disbelief.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Bucky grappled with the enormity of Sam's proclamation. Could it be true? Had fate finally deigned to bestow upon him the miraculous return of his long-lost daughter? The possibility sent tremors of hope coursing through his veins, battling against the pervasive doubt that bubbled up inside of him.

His voice trembling with a mixture of trepidation and longing, Bucky sought confirmation, his words a desperate plea for reassurance. "You mean, my child who has been missing for six years? Are you sure?" he questioned, the uncertainty gnawing at his insides like a ravenous beast.

Sam's response, though tinged with uncertainty, offered a glimmer of validation amidst the tumult of emotions raging within Bucky. "Well, she looks just like the daughter that you have so many pictures of in your house, just older," he affirmed, the words a lifeline amidst the storm of doubt that threatened to consume them both. "And y'know, she has the same vibe as when I knew her as a little kid."

A lump formed in Bucky's throat, choking back the torrent of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. It felt surreal, as if he were trapped in a waking dream, teetering on the precipice of reality and illusion. Stammering incoherently, he struggled to find the words to articulate the myriad thoughts racing through his mind.

"Where did you find the kid?" Bucky managed to choke out, his voice thick with emotion as he fought to temper the rising tide of hope threatening to drown him in its embrace. Referring to her as 'the kid,' a deliberate distancing from the overwhelming surge of emotions threatening to engulf him.

Sam's explanation, though laden with uncertainty, offered a sliver of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to consume him. "We saved her from a HYDRA base. The military came and arrested everyone, and we found this girl, and she looks just like your...daughter," he elaborated, the words a balm to Bucky's tortured soul, igniting a spark of hope amidst the desolation that had long held him captive.

With a surge of determination, Bucky seized upon the glimmer of hope offered by Sam's revelation, his resolve steeling against the specter of doubt that threatened to shatter his fragile hopes. Abandoning his coffee, he snatched up his keys, his movements propelled by a sense of urgency that eclipsed all other considerations.

"Send me your location, I'm on the way right now," Bucky declared, his voice a fervent prayer amidst the cacophony of doubt that threatened to drown out his fragile hopes. For in that moment, amidst the uncertainty and the fear, he clung to the possibility of reunion, a beacon of light guiding him through the darkness that had long shrouded his world in shadow.

Perhaps, just perhaps, this was the news Bucky Barnes had been waiting for all these years-a chance to reclaim the life that had been torn asunder, to rewrite the narrative of loss and despair into one of hope and redemption. And as he crossed the threshold into the unknown, his heart whispered a silent vow-to never give up on the chance of being a father once more, to embrace the possibility of love amidst the ruins of his shattered dreams.

AS BUCKY STEPPED IN THE ROOM,
Sam's presence at his side offered a fragile tether to reality amidst the swirling vortex of emotions threatening to engulf him. They traversed the labyrinthine hallway in silence, each footstep a somber cadence echoing the weight of their shared apprehension.

Sam's voice, a beacon of guidance in the darkness, cut through the oppressive silence, his words laden with the gravity of the moment. "When you get in there, just know, she's terrified. She won't talk, or even nod her head yes or no. Maybe when she sees her dad, she might be more open," he advised, the words tinged with a note of cautious optimism amidst the uncertainty that loomed ahead.

Bucky absorbed Sam's words with a solemn nod, his heart a tumult of conflicting emotions as he braced himself for the reunion that lay ahead. As they reached the door, Sam's hand hovered over the handle, a silent gesture of solidarity in the face of the unknown.

With a hesitant breath, Sam slowly pushed the door open, revealing a scene that sent a jolt of disbelief coursing through Bucky's veins. There she sat, his daughter, a spectral echo of the vibrant young girl he had once known, her features etched with the passage of time and the weight of untold suffering.

Gone was the infectious smile that had once illuminated her face, replaced by a veil of melancholy that cast a shadow over her weary countenance.

Her eyes were drained but blue as can be, her nose was the same, her dark brown waves were the same, even her little chin dip was the same.

That was his Ellie.

His a mixture of relief and apprehension. He had been waiting for her for what felt like an eternity, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridors of their shared home. And now, as he stood before her, the words he had rehearsed a hundred times over caught in his throat, choked by the weight of unspoken fears and unshed tears.

"Ellie," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the tumult of his own emotions.

She turned to face him, her eyes haunted and distant, a ghost of the vibrant spirit he had once known. Her face was bare, no emotion, confusion even. He reached out to her, his hand trembling with a mixture of longing and uncertainty, his heart pounding in his chest like a drumbeat of hope.

And then, in one swift motion, he pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in a tight embrace that spoke volumes of the love he held for her in his heart. But to his surprise, she didn't respond, didn't return the gesture with the same fervor he had expected.

Instead, she stood there, her body stiff and unyielding in his embrace, her arms hanging limply at her sides as if unsure of what to do with them. And for a moment, just a fleeting moment, he felt a pang of disappointment wash over him, a gnawing sense of rejection that threatened to consume him whole.

He pulled away, he knew he needed to give her time. Bucky pulled a chair in front of her, his movements measured with the restraint of a man teetering on the precipice of his emotions. As he met her gaze, his heart constricted with a pang of longing, yearning to bridge the chasm of years that had separated them.

"Hey," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the din of their shared apprehension.

Her response, though tinged with uncertainty, carried the weight of a revelation as she sought to reconcile the fragmented memories of her past. "You're my dad?" she questioned, her words a fragile thread connecting her to the fractured fragments of her identity.

Bucky blinked back the tears that threatened to spill, his voice catching in his throat as he struggled to find the words to convey the depth of his love and longing. "Yeah- yeah, it's me, it's dad," he affirmed, his hand trembling with the weight of unspoken emotions.

Her nod, though subtle, spoke volumes, a silent acknowledgment of the tumultuous journey that had led them to this moment of tentative reunion. "I just..." she began, her voice faltering beneath the weight of her burdened heart. "They took me and said I would never see you again, they tried to wipe me but I still remember you... somewhat," she confessed.

Bucky's heart clenched with of anguish, his fingers itching to reach out and wipe away the tears that welled in her eyes. "Well, I'm here now, we can go home now," he offered, his voice a steadfast anchor amidst the storm of uncertainty that raged within her.

Her confusion, palpable in the air between them, pierced Bucky's heart like a dagger, a stark reminder of the insidious grip that HYDRA held over her fragile psyche. "Home?" she echoed, her voice tinged with a note of uncertainty that mirrored the tumult of emotions raging within her.

For Bucky, the word carried a weighty significance, a beacon of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to consume them both. "Yeah, home," he affirmed, his voice infused with a quiet determination born of a father's unwavering love and devotion. "I'm gonna take you home."

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(OLD A/N LMAO)
HEYYY SO I UPDATED.
this is short but I'm gonna try to update this more with longer chapters, lol.