(A/N: I am only uploading this because emails keep screwing up the format for my friend, or else I'd probably have left it...but formatting going haywire upsets my brain.)

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Valemor: noun, the quiet pride of knowing you survived something without becoming cruel, loud or bitter.

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Bucky's eyes hurt, there was no doubt about it, he had a headache coming on; he could almost feel the pinching pressure budding just behind his eyes. Didn't help he was also tired, almost bone-achingly tired, which was ridiculous considering his days were usually spent in a chair, at a desk, looking at papers or navigating a computer. Honestly, bureaucracy was a hell-scape all unto itself, he had been trying to navigate these waters hesitantly and stubbornly with varied results. Nothing he tried to come up with got passed, and some people just didn't know what to make of him.

He got it, they looked at him like he was about to return to his old ways. The painful number of times he had to explicitly say his name to some people made him physically shudder too. "The name is James Buchanan Barnes. Not Winter, not Bucky, James." It was usually said rather bluntly before he had even managed to have a drop of coffee in his system. He didn't mind if those in this office space called him Bucky, but that was too familiar and none of these people were familiar at all...

Honestly, he could say that fighting on any mission didn't make him this exhausted, and he'd been on many a mission. Fighting came easy, way too easy maybe, trying to be a politician, not so easy. Perhaps pretending to be something he clearly wasn't, was what was making him tired, but that was a notion Bucky refused to register for more than five seconds.

It was on days like this where nothing seemed to happen and it had just been so unnaturally exhausting that he felt his arm ache, the vibranium of his arm just seemed to pull at him, a heavy and constant humming reminder really that no matter how much he tried for a better future, a past that wasn't entirely that distant was still at his heels. All he wanted was the quiet of his apartment, no matter how clinically white it was, and the lights probably wouldn't help his budding headache, but the quiet within those walls was welcoming, so was a beer.

The commute back was uneventful, he just blending in with everyone else that was just trying to make it home, halfway through the journey he had loosened his tie, the restrictive material feeling like it was trying to strangle him. Honestly, the whole suit he was wearing just didn't seem at all comfortable anymore, well fitted but honestly, he couldn't wait to change. He combed his organic hand through his hair as he finally got to his apartment block, he was so close that he was aware his pace was borderline jogging to his door.

The only thing which made his feet slow and his keys still in his metallic hand was the sight of the door, the frame was warped, the metal of the lock and deadbolt dripping in a metallic sludge, it was even shimmering in a puddle on the doorstep, the mat there definitely had metal now encrusted on it.

Bucky's posture immediately shifted, the bone-aching exhaustion was washed aside for senses and a readiness which wasn't buried that deep. Old habits die hard, and all that. Bucky flexed his hands by his sides and shifted forwards slowly. He eyed his door, his poor front door, no shrapnel marks, no scorching, the precision here was thermal and intentional. He wasn't an idiot, somewhere in the world there was no doubt people out there that still had it out for him, wanting a piece of him to carve out their revenge, and honestly, Bucky was struggling to think of anyone who could do this, but it was also a list he didn't want to remember.

Slowly, deathly slowly, he nudged his door open, the pathetic creak of it had him almost rolling his eyes, it was like something from a bad horror movie. But here he was, slowly edging into his home, senses on high alert and his eyes scanning the darkened space. He lowered his centre of gravity; he was readying to fight if he really needed to. The ambient light coming through the blinds gave little illumination, but it did pick up a figure sitting on his sofa, takeaway cup in hand and the distinct rattle of ice within it broke the tension instantly, mainly because Bucky just looked utterly bewildered.

"Hullo, Bruder! You're later than I thought you would be. I was about to order takeout, but I didn't know if you liked Thai." Her German accent a gentle lilt in her voice as she sounded quite casual and happy. The woman waved her spare hand at him, lifting the other to sip at the straw of what was clearly an iced coffee that could not be healthy seems the size of the cup.

Bucky came out of his thoughts, his foot trying and failing to shut his door as he reached over and switched the lights on. Why the hell she was sitting in the dark for, he didn't know, but one thing he did know was that he didn't think he'd see Emmeline Arrow anytime soon. Last he knew, she was with Sam and his new attempt at forging the Avengers. "Emmeline?" His brain was still rebooting, blinking quickly and trying to think of other stuff to say, he just gestured to what was his door.

"Ah! Ja, tut mir lied..." Bucky raised an eyebrow, she was sorry about that, why didn't she sound sorry? Emmeline smiled, "I didn't have a key! And I knocked, and pressed the buzzer, you didn't answer so..."

He walked into his apartment more, his keys being dropped on the kitchen counter with more force than necessary and him coming to hunker down on the coffee table in front of her, keeping an amicable distance because he remembered full well she didn't like personal space invasion, not that he was keen on it either. She just blinked and smiled, he shook his head, she looked relatively the same as the last time he saw her; same golden blonde hair, same odd luminescence that hung about her, like a light which didn't quiet switch off, same black sclera and molten looking irises, she was very much the picture of a porcelain doll that could incinerate someone with a blink.

"Firstly, you don't have a key." Bucky pointed literally from her to the door, he looked at it sadly, the door looked pitiful, hanging there agape, how he was going to fix this for the night, he didn't know. His eyes flicked sidelong back at her, Emmeline at least tried to look apologetic. "Couldn't you have just waited outside?"

"Eh, your neighbour was looking at me weirdly."

"Everyone looks at you weirdly."

"You're lucky I like you, or else." Her eyes narrowed, Bucky just rolled his in return. "Sorry about the mat, it looked cheap."

"How about sorry about my door?" Bucky didn't care for the mat; those were easy to get. But a new door? He hung his head, he didn't expect this from his evening, and his head hurt more now. "You melted my lock."

"A solar nudge."

"That's more than a nudge," Bucky looked back up at her, Emmeline looked confused before slowly shrugging. "Why are you here?" He just thought he'd come out and ask. She could be anywhere else, but here. He couldn't help but come off confused, deeply confused and irritated. Moments ago, he thought it was the case of kill and be killed, something he really wanted to avoid for so many reasons.

"If it makes you feel any better, I can buy you a new door, new fancy lock and a better welcome mat."

"Little consolation, but you didn't answer my question." Bucky narrowed his eyes suspiciously, he could easily tell when someone was avoiding talking, and she was doing a bang-up job here.

Emmeline sighed, she leaned to the side and a good distance from him, and put her cup down. Pulling the long sleeves of her black top over her hands, she looked at him awkwardly. "Sam kicked me out."

Bucky's brain short circuited again then, Sam, as in Sam-Sam, kicked her out of his new brand of the Avengers? He needed a moment to process this. "What did you do?"

Emmeline's lips pressed into a thin line as she looked at him accusingly. Bucky leaned back and crossed his arms, of course she did something. She groaned quietly and looked up at the ceiling for inspiration before looking back at him. "I wasn't involved with the whole...President thing, everyone else is gone, you are some government official now, I had nowhere else, but to stay there. Little things happened, we butted heads about certain things and...he said that I should act my age."

Bucky nodded, somehow, he wasn't even surprised the pair argued, Emmeline, through all her faults and everything else, she was stubborn and the problem with that was she rarely agreed to someone else's point of view. "You got kicked out over arguments, to which he said you need to act your age?" Bucky was trying his hardest not to smirk, it was comical, the thought of it, no offence to either.

Emmeline sighed, "I tried to go do good deeds. Isn't that what we're meant to do? I went out patrolling, saw someone trying to rob this small convenience store, I step in and...I got the bad guy! But things burned...no one was hurt! But I hope the owner had insurance...so yeah, Sam found out and called me a liability. That being part of a team means working together and I can't just run off and do stuff on my own, because people could get hurt...people, not me, people." She made a clicking noise at that and looked disheartened and angry.

Bucky got it, perhaps Sam didn't kick her out really, but they came to an agreement where she left. Sam did care, he really did, and he wouldn't have asked her to leave lightly. Bucky also got her annoyance, being treated like she was a weapon waiting to go off was not great, he related to that more than anyone. "How old are you again?"

"Some brother...I am 96. Although I can't remember if that is accurate. Give or take maybe a year or two, being thawed out and frozen again several times really messes up times and dates." Emmeline said with a gentle sigh, she shook her head, causing the shoulder length locks to sway slightly. "What does Sam expect from me? To be in a nursing home knitting, or dead?"

That was it, that had Bucky letting out a chuckle even if he didn't want to. Honestly, he'd hate to say yes to that, but Sam would probably prefer it like that, just to make Emmeline manageable, which was something she really wasn't. "So, you came to me." He shifted on the coffee table and looked at her, really looked, she looked as tired as he did.

"You were the first person on my list. Steve would've probably been the first if...you know, he was here." Emmeline said, watching Bucky's eyes dim just a bit, she looked sorry for making him feel perhaps a little sad over missing his best friend, and someone who really was like his brother. Emmeline believed if Steve was still here though, that he wouldn't cut her loose as easily as Sam did. "You were the one who got me out too, so..."

Bucky nodded slowly, setting his gaze on his hands, one shining black metal and one perfectly normal flesh and bone hand. "Yeah, well, in amongst everything I told Steve to go back for you. After everything...you know," Bucky would rather not remember the full extent of going into decommission mode it was messy, frightening and so confusing. Certain people didn't help, while others still tried to weaponize him, honestly how he even remembered anything in that time was a miracle, but he remembered her tucked away in some long-forgotten facility in her little cryo-chamber.

There were many things Bucky wanted to do, undo a lot of damage he had done was one of those things; her file was in some Hydra archives, Project Solstice. A definite weapon that they all made worse with their constant poking and prodding...

"I know, I have a good memory." She laughed lightly, Bucky looked at her uncertainly. She hovered her hands just above his, enough for him to feel her constant heat but enough distance that there was no contact. "I remember the training rooms, the sterile walls and machinery; the pain. They pitted us against each other, just for fun half the time even if they dressed it up as training for us. You got assignments, I got shut away once they realised, they severely messed up. Being a walking reactor clearly wasn't what they wholly intended, hm?"

"You do know what my assignments were, right?" Bucky hated to ask, she shouldn't sound remotely jealous of anything those people made him do. Emmeline nodded grimly, Bucky just looked to the kitchen, that beer in the fridge was calling his name now. Patting his knees and standing, he moved over. It may seem rude of him, but he didn't even offer her a drink, alcoholic that is, the thing with being powered like the sun and able to blow at any moment, alcohol did not do wonders for control, and Emmeline always had to have control on her abilities.

Emmeline walked over and accepted the glass of water though; she sipped at it slowly and leaned against the counter looking at him. "Regardless, I do remember them saying we should coexist, I don't know if they planned to have us team up but that sounded like an awful idea back then. I never hated you, Bucky. Just so you know that, never. You were just...there, like me. An unfortunate accident of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. They took you by chance, my father enlisted me." Emmeline sipped at her water again, she'd rather not remember her father taking her to labs as a child the moment he realised she had abilities. But that's what happened and life did not really get much better after that. Nodding, she toasted her glass at him, "You were a constant, like gravity or a bad smell."

Bucky let out a snort, almost choking on his beer as he shot her a look, Emmeline just grinned. "Thanks." He paused, the pair just standing in silence before he nodded her way. Her black and yellow eyes looked back at him. "I remember that too, well, most things." He remembered them being made to train, to fight against each other. Bucky dislocated her shoulder, she had been younger then, as she said age was hard to pin down but she was barely an adult. In return she had given him a concussion so fair is fair there. "Sam can be an idiot, but his heart is usually in the right place, you know?" Bucky wasn't trying to urge her back, just maybe they could clear the air?

"I think he wants soldiers, have you seen his new team? And he thinks I am not fit for it, or something? Pfft, I'm not a child that needs to be managed, Bucky. Nor am I some fragile thing, I've lived through things he can't imagine. Hydra made me a weapon; they took everything I was and made it worse. But I am not that, never am I going to be that. I survived them, and all they threw at me, I survived myself being...this." Emmeline sounded so resolved and determined there that Bucky just found himself nodding slowly, he didn't comment on the fact that an old wound had clearly been picked at. There was fear, of being caged and contained, of feeling worthless no matter the efforts of actions.

Yes, he could relate there, again. He leaned back against the counter and looked at her, she stood with a tension in her shoulders that didn't seem to have disappeared, even though she was perfectly safe here. She was a walking talking coiled spring of energy and anxiety and Bucky hoped she wouldn't suddenly crack here, because it would be more than his door breaking. Emmeline and her constant looking around, trying to make it seem like she was studying his apartment just came off to him as someone looking and waiting for a threat to appear. She had spent her life being watched, analysed and controlled.

Gesturing to the bag, which was near his sofa, Bucky looked from it to her, "Where's the rest of your stuff?"

Emmeline looked at the sad little bag and then at him, "That's it. I don't own much. I am not sure if you have noticed, but I have not had a proper home since before the war, the one in Europe, I mean."

Bucky's chest felt restricted, a painful pang hitting somewhere between his ribs. That war, to her wasn't a history lesson, it was a memory, one which could be hazy sometimes and vivid the next, at least it was for him. It wasn't pity though, that sudden pain, it was this lingering protective instinct that belonged to the man he used to be. This woman with the impossible eyes and even more impossible abilities, had been left out to dry...and Bucky would much rather her melt his door down then wind up somewhere else.

Truthfully, back when they were in that damn base, Bucky hadn't known her, not really. Not her name, nothing, just what she could do. In the chaos of returning to a normal life, Bucky had persuaded Steve for them to get her, that was true and it didn't take much persuading. If Steve knew someone was in danger and could be rescued, then he'd do whatever to get that person out from whatever threatening situation they were in.

Shaking his head, Bucky wasn't sure how he felt about her looking at him like some sort of anchor to this new normal, but here they were in his kitchen looking at each other quietly anyway, slow sips from their respected drinks as they were evidently waiting for the other to break this new silence.

"How many times did people think you were dead?" The question was not what Bucky expected and looked at her with a weird look. Emmeline laughed, "A lot, then? I remember trying to get some form of identification, Sam took me. I had to explain that I was 96, born in 1928, in the Black Forest, Germany and that I had spent many years in stasis. Honestly...such hard work..."

Bucky drunk from his beer, narrowing his eyes in thought he looked at her with a growing smile. Emmeline tilted her head; seems the look was genuine it had her interest. "Driving license. The clerk wished to state that apparently, I had been declared dead since 1945."

"Well," Emmeline gestured at him, "You clearly got better."

"Well, yeah, evidently." Bucky matched her sarcasm with his own while holding an arm out. Emmeline laughed, a light sound and he smiled, glad she looked less wound up now.

Emmeline rubbed at one of her eyes, he wasn't sure if she was tired or rubbing a tear away from the awful bonding over both most likely, most definitely, assuredly having meant to be dead. "So, this is your new life, brother? It is...white, very white, and boring. Quiet too, it's boring."

"You mentioned boring twice."

"Because it is!" Emmeline laughed, Bucky's apartment was simple at best, it was like he didn't expect to be here long, that's how it came across to her. There was nothing of personality here, and if she didn't know any better, she'd think this was a showroom. "Do you not have a cat?"

"No."

"A dog?"

"No."

"Not even a plant?" Emmeline tried and got a dry look shot her way by Bucky. She tutted, "Can't handle the responsibility, hm?"

Bucky narrowed his eyes at her; it wasn't that it wasn't something being dependant on him that he struggled to grasp onto. Perhaps it was more he wasn't sure why something or someone would want to see him and look at him like Emmeline did. "Well, now I have you."

"Ah, but I can look after myself."

"You're here, Emmy, so clearly not."

"I get lonely, brother." Emmeline said while drinking her water slowly. Bucky didn't believe her, not one bit. He knew full well she found too much noise, well, too much noise. Overwhelmingly so to the point where she would flinch, she didn't do well with noise at all, so silence was a definite virtue. His quiet little apartment should've been a haven, instead it got its door melted and called boring.

Bucky sighed, he was trying to glance over her calling him brother. He had been a brother before, and he had lost his sister. They may be trauma siblings, but Bucky wasn't sure how to feel about that being the root of their relationship. He remembered phantom fights, like he said earlier, the one thing that bought these two together was the same thing which taught them to kill, even each other.

When fighting each other, Bucky was certain he didn't see any familiar tie to her at all, and she'd be a fool if she did. He hadn't been a brother, she wasn't a sister, she was the competition, a target. He had to remind himself though, a small voice in the back of his head, that was the Soldier, not Bucky. Bucky would never harm a lady; he would never lay his hands on her in any volatile way.

"I get it, Bucky. I too am not great at living with things that aren't me. I try my hardest to blend in, I have tried with prompting from Sam. As you stated, people look at me, and he didn't quite grasp that. Blending in is for moths, I am a hawk."

"You are loud, Emmeline." Bucky placed his half empty bottle down and finally shrugged his suit jacket off. He had got so caught up with her; he was still in this damn suit. Emmeline's eyes watched as he hung it up and returned to his beer, he took a swig and disappeared into his room to clearly quickly change. He was home, he was out of the suit, he had a beer, the showering part could come at the end of the day when he figured where she could sleep. His words caused her to groan; he heard that even as he was pulling a dark t-shirt on over his head and getting out of the suit trousers and into comfier ones. "You've always been loud. Even when you were trying to be stealthy. I can hear you from here."

"I'm energy! I have so much energy, it hums and it sings. I can't help that, never will. If I relax too many things get crispy, if I am not self-conscious about it, things could get worse. Mind if I get more water? Water doesn't stay very cool with me for long..."

Bucky walked back into the open plan of his apartment and saw her hesitantly lifting the tap for more water before holding the glass as if it was literally going to explode in her hands. He looked at her sympathetically; she was constantly on eggshells. He picked his beer back up and the pair leaned against the counter, him making sure there was a good distance between them for her sake. He was not equipped for this; he was as equipped for this as he was in trying to be a congressman. Bucky was trying to keep his head above water, navigating political waters and as awful as it was, trying to live a rather bland life just so he gets a little overlooked and not asked to recite any gory detail.

How the hell did he handle a 96-year-old solar powered mutant who had just been kicked out of Sam's new superhero team for being intense and childish? Bucky slowly drunk his beer, he looked down at her, she only just stopped near his shoulders, and she tilted her head to look up at him in return, she smiled awkwardly and he just sighed. She was as in the dark, which was perhaps a first for her and her abilities as he was.

"I got called a glow stick."

Bucky frowned, "By who?"

"Well, before everything went how it did, we obviously had to meet with important people with boring titles and forgettable names. I think me almost burning a diplomat is also why Sam called me impulsive."

Bucky double took as she sounded thoughtful, "Yeah, I think that would do it. Did you?"

Inhaling slowly, Emmeline smiled softly, "No. I wouldn't hurt someone, not without good reason. An idiot is just that, a misinformed idiot. But I did demonstrate easily that glow sticks can apparently be very dangerous and hot."

"Emmy, can I be honest? I don't know what you want from me. My apartment has one bedroom, I'm barely here except in the evenings, some would argue I am not the best company on most good days." Bucky distinctly remembered someone in the office calling him broody...

Emmeline sighed, "I don't need stability, Bucky. I need a place to stay where no one will try to shoot me or lock me up in a containment cell. I need a friend, family, even. You are my brother, Bucky. Okay, not by blood, but by trauma and experience, but you are the only family I have left."

There she went with the brother thing again; Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose. It did just feel like a heavy weight, almost wrong but not quite. He didn't have siblings anymore, the Winter Soldier sure as anything didn't have anyone but looking at her with her burning eyes, Bucky couldn't help but sigh. The more he denied wanting the title, they had a kinship, they were the leftovers of a war that ended, and they never got the memo.

"I'm not good at this."

Emmeline nodded, "Yeah, I got that sense. But I can be very quiet, honestly! I can try." She pushed away from the counter and opened his fridge with such a quick motion it was like the fridge had burned her, not likely the other way. "You have barely any food...this fridge is sad, why is the lack of food making me feel sad for you?"

"I'm a bachelor, Emmeline, I only need to look after myself." Bucky hated to state, it was him and only him.

She tutted, but she moved away and looked over the sparse number of books he had. Bucky just watched her move around the space; nervous buzzing energy followed in her wake. Any light fixture she passed or was near seemed to vibrate slightly, she was a contained power plant running on high seemingly all the time, Bucky would like to see how she intended to be quiet.

"You know in amongst all the crap, I did get allowed to read. I have Goethe stored away in my mind, along with Shakespeare. They allowed me some form of an education, not that I could use it. I think they were trying to make me well-rounded, as if they had any intention to let me interact with the general populace. Eh, I digress I do not see how being able to recite Hamlet while either decapitating or blowing someone up would make me well-rounded. So, along with going grocery shopping we are also extending this little library of yours."

"Are we?" Bucky tilted his head, well she was certainly making herself at home now, wasn't she?

Emmeline smiled, she rocked on her heels, her boots making the slightest scuffing noises while she did so. Sticking her hands in her back jean pockets, she nodded and hummed. "Can I ask you a serious question?" She still smiled softly, giving him an out if he needed it. Instead, Bucky nodded at her to continue. "Is it hard being normal?"

Inhaling and exhaling he pushed away from the counter, beer bottle abandoned as he walked over to the large window, the city beyond was dark now, flickering lights and the sounds of traffic. Emmeline moved over and stood by his side. "The thing is, we're not normal, are we? Which makes it worse to try and be normal, when everyone just looks at us like we're going through the motions. At least with trying to live a normal life, there's no screaming, no blood, the noise can still be there, but it is more manageable. There are different expectations though."

Emmeline frowned and crossed her arms, "Bucky...I'm a weapon of mass destruction with a penchant for Goethe, I can fly, I can turn everything to ash with a flick of a finger...I don't think I know how to be normal, or pretend and go through the motions."

"What happened to you not being what they made you?" Bucky looked at her reflection in the window, she sighed and stared back at him. He didn't like hearing her register herself as what Hydra did to her, but he got it, he did that for a long while too. Old habits, and all that.

"We were both weapons, Bucky. But, if you can go through the motions, you can try and be normal, then so can I. We'll just struggle and try together."

The pair were silent then, just looking out at the window and at the city beyond. It was easy to imagine little scenarios on what people were doing and where they were going to with such urgency. Bucky thought over this whole scenario, somehow, he felt even if he tried to get her to reconcile with Sam, and the same with him, she'd still be here, wanting to stay with him. "You can have the bed," Bucky said thoughtfully, Emmeline looked at him curiously. "What?"

"I'll take the couch. I'm not kicking you out of your room. I don't take up much space, so the couch is mine, it seems very comfy."

"Just take the bed, I don't sleep much anyway."

"No." Emmeline said surely, Bucky just frowned and sighed heavily. His deflated sigh had her laughing, the fact he didn't reply, she presumed she won this. "Danke, Bruder." She turned and looked up at him then, a real genuine smile appeared on her face then, it softened the tension she was carrying.

"Just Bucky, is fine."

"Boring, but fine." Emmeline shrugged and tilted her head, "Do you have ice cream? I feel like celebrating my eviction and this." She gestured between them.

"Won't you just melt ice cream?" Bucky smirked; she shot him a look. Everything grew warm within moments of being near her, even with the amicable space between them, Bucky's arm was pleasantly warm.

"Rude," she pointed a finger at him, but it had no bite to it as she huffed quietly, trying to appear offended.

"Someone posted a coupon through my door the other day for some gelato place."

"Perfect!" She clapped her hands, Bucky hesitantly looked at the yellow spark which erupted from the action but dissipated in the air within seconds. "I'm driving!"

"No, you're not. You melted my door; you're not getting behind the wheel of a car."

"You're no fun. Sam did say you could be like this."

"See, Sam can be right sometimes." Bucky waved a hand her way, he had zero intentions of driving anywhere right now, his headache was gone and was replaced by this hyper-focused need to keep her from trying to drive and cause more mischief.

They walked towards the door, the poor sad door, Emmeline looked it over and looked at him surely. "I will fix it. I can melt it back together." She got the feeling Bucky wouldn't accept her money to buy a new one, so fixing it was her next best suggestion.

"Please don't," Bucky said while shutting the door the best he could, it wasn't like he had anything worth stealing anyway. "I'll phone maintenance. I don't know, I'll tell him a radiator exploded."

"Rubbish lie, but okay. He will not believe you; radiators don't melt locks."

Bucky threw a hand up in the air in exasperation, stepping into the elevator and zipping his coat up, Bucky looked at their reflections in the polished steel of the doors. He could safely say he did not expect his day to turn out like this, not at all; the Winter Soldier and Project Solaris, an asset and walking sun, two ghosts in a metal box heading down to the street to find this gelato place just for the sake of it.