Wicked.

Five.

Three weeks later

I pulled my car in front of my house and looked around, I had spotted Bucky a few times in the past three weeks; but he never made a move. He never came closer or even came out what he thought was hiding, so I went about life. Being as patient as possible. Grabbing a few bags from the passenger seat, I got out of the car and made my way inside.

But as I stepped up to the floor not door I stopped, my hand quickly going to my back and grabbing my gun.I placed my bags on the deck and slowly entered my house, everything was in the same spot. Nothing had been tampered with, but someone had been here.

Holding my gun low, finger on the trigger, I made my way silently upstairs after I gave the living room a once over. I skipped the step that creaked and walked as slowly and softly as I could over the floor boards.

They creaked softly but I had made it to my bedroom, it was empty. Not a thing out of place, lowering my weapon I took a look around the room and stopped as I faced the bedroom door. Bucky was standing there, he wore faded and slight ripped jeans, a blue shirt with a coat over it. Black boots and a baseball cap.

His hands were stuffed in his pocket while he watched me, slowly I placed the gun on the bed and stared back at him. We stood in silence for what seemed like hours, but was only a few minutes. His eyes scanned the room and the bed, were my weapon rested. He then scanned me, something I had gotten used to over the years. I licked my dry lips and leaned more to my right, my hand rested on my hip as I yawned.

"I left my stuff outside." I spoke softly as his eyes connected with my own, his eye lids were low but I could still see the bright blue orbs just below them. I tilted my head to one side as I waited on him, waited for a reaction of sorts.

He clentched his jaw and shifted in his spot, Bucky wasn't comfortable. My eyes widened just a bit, he must have regained some memories. "They're in the kitchen." His words were low and slightly muffled as if he felt ashamed of helping me.

"Thank you." I spoke softly, I watched him turn on his heel quickly "Bucky!" The words flew from my mouth and I quickly shut it, his eyes were on me like a hawk, narrowed and his body was ready. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out, sighing I bit my bottom lip and shrugged my shoulders; what was I supposed to say? How's your memory? Do you still want to kill me?

He took a step forward and I subconsciously took a step back. He stood straight and check my posture, I must have still slightly feared how unpredictable he could be. With a few blinks of his eyes, he turned and left my house. Shaking my head I huffed, I was an idiot.