hey guys, this is my first Marvel FF so please forgive me if i ever make any novice mistake

The story is set up after the Winter Soldier and before Civil War. I feel like this plot is a little overused/cliched but please give it a chance since this is my own take on it

don't forget to leave some REVIEWS to let me know what you think so far and if you wanna read more

Disclaimer: I do not own the Winter Soldier/James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes or any characters from the MCU

To Z, who introduced a hardcore DC fan (me) to the equally fascinating world of Marvel and taught me how to appreciate it...with the help of Sebastian Stan's puppy dog eyes and sinful thighs.

Many locals typically call the tall building downtown as the 'giant tower of death' due to its size. It stood mighty tall and proud, a colossus towering over the entire city. The building's rooftop was known as the spot where people would attempt to end their lives. For the cleaners working the night shift, it was a common occasion to witness miserable people sneak into the building at night, often intoxicated and depressed with the goal of ending their lives by attempting to jump off the 400-something-storey building. It was a habit of hers, ever since she started working as a night shift cleaner, to check the rooftop for any suicidal people throughout her shift. It was around two in the morning when she found an individual standing on the rooftop ledge. She approached the unaware person. From the looks of it, the person was a man, judging by his tall and muscular physique. He was clad in black and with his back to her, she could not see his face. She wondered what problem this person faced that led them to put their suicidal thoughts in motion.

"Excuse me!" she called out. The person didn't move…he didn't even look over his shoulder to look at her. "Are you really serious about jumping?" she asked, "why don't you come down. We can talk and maybe I can help change your mind." The person didn't move and she stood stiffly behind him. She was ready to pull the person towards her in case he made any sudden movements. "Come on down, please."

"Go away," hoarsely, the man spoke, addressing her. "You can't help."

She heard all sounds of desperation and misery in a person's voice before. This man standing on the ledge before her was not the first one she confronted and he probably won't be the last. However, of all the people she heard speak while standing on the ledge, it was this man who sounded the most broken of them all. During the six years that she had been working as a cleaner in the building since finishing high school, no one has ever jumped off the building during her shift. She had saved every single person who attempted to commit suicide during her shift. She wasn't about to tarnish that record now.

"So why are you trying to jump?" she asked, "did your girlfriend broke up with you? Did you lose your job? Are you broke?" she asked, referring to the most common problems she heard people talk to her about in the past.

For the first time, the man on the ledge looked over his shoulder, glancing at her direction. The first thing she noticed were his striking blue eyes. Not because of their stunning aquamarine colour but because of the amount of emotion within those eyes. She'd seen broken men many times before but this man takes the cake. He looked shattered and there was no word in the English dictionary that she could think of to accurately describe the look in the man's eyes. "You can't help me," he repeated his earlier words.

"Then let me," she told him as the strong gust of wind caused the hairs at the back of her neck to rise. The suicidal man shook his head. He had suffered enough. This was the only solution he saw possible. "Come on, let me help you. What's your name?" she continued to talk, hoping it would distract the man from his goal.

"I don't know," replied the suicidal man. There was nothing but pure honesty in his voice. He truly sounded as if he didn't know how to answer her question.

In his head, he recalled his confrontation with the blonde man. He called him a name that sounded so foreign yet so familiar at the same time. Bucky. But then, he remembered being referred to as 'soldier' by the men whose orders he followed and now, he had fled from. He did not know which one he was supposed to be and the memories that started coming since the helicarrier confrontation was only making his head hurt even worse.

"Why don't you get down and come over here," she offered with a sincere smile, "let me listen to your story. Let me help you."

"You can't."

"I'll try to," she assured him, "just please, don't jump. You're still young. Life can be shitty to everybody and whatever problem you are facing now will be solved sooner or later. There's always a rainbow after the storm."

"Why are you doing this?" the suicidal man asked.

"Because I believe all life is precious," she clarified, "everybody has been put on this earth for a reason, everybody has a purpose and one day, we will all die one way or another for a reason. Jumping off a building is a terrible way to finish off your life especially when you clearly have not lived your life to the fullest."

Something about the woman struck him. Whether it was her determination to stop him from jumping, her words or the empathising look on her face, it was enough to convince him to put a halt to his suicidal act. He found himself standing in front of the relieved woman. He didn't address her or anything and before she could talk any more, he walked towards the elevator, leaving her in the rooftop on her own.

Her confrontation with the man on the ledge was certainly a weird one. By three in the morning, she finally finished her shift. She was more than eager to get home and sleep. She was exhausted. As soon as she stepped out of the building, she was greeted by the storm. The strong wind was enough to turn her umbrella inside out and suddenly, her jacket did very little to keep her dry and warm. She battled the storm and the strong wind and kept herself motivated with the image of her comfy bed. She began to wonder why she decided to leave her car again…she regretted being so frugal because she wouldn't mind using up more petrol than facing the storm in her current situation.

The wind and the hard hitting raindrops made her easy fifteen minute walk home difficult, therefore, it was not only proving to be challenging but it was also taking longer than she wanted. She was soaked within the first couple of minutes since she stepped out of work and her umbrella has proven itself useless. At one point, a very strong gust of wind blew and she swore that the wind almost carried her away. That was when she finally decided that it was not worth it to fight the storm. She approached a nearby store, which happened to be a 7-eleven and sought shelter inside where she could be warm and cosy. A bored looking man in his mid-40s stood behind the counter of the store and he frowned at the sight of her when she stepped inside. Apparently, she wasn't the only one seeking shelter inside the store and the storekeeper didn't appreciate having five other people inside his store, especially since they had no intention of purchasing anything from the store. However, the storekeeper was nice enough not to kick them out although he would occasionally glare at everyone every few minutes.

She decided to at least buy something in hopes that it will stop the storekeeper from sending a glare her way. She approached the coffee machine and decided to purchase one of the $1 coffees. She was shivering after all and her drenched clothes did nothing to improve the situation. Perhaps coffee can help warm her up. While putting a lid on top of her coffee cup, she noticed a lone figure battling the storm outside. Poor man, she thought. As she watched him for the next few seconds that followed, she realised she recognised the man clad in black. She remembered him from the rooftop. It was the man on the ledge!

Hastily, she left the store, leaving her coffee on the counter as she rushed to meet the lone figure battling the rain. He was just as soaked as her, in fact, he was even more drenched but it didn't seem to affect him. He wasn't even shivering and her teeth had been chattering as soon as she stepped out of the warm convenient store. "Hey!" she called out, earning his attention as she approached him. "Come inside, this storm isn't going to let you win," she told him but before he can refuse her offer, she grabbed his right arm and dragged him inside 7-eleven.

"Are you going to pay for your coffee?" monotonously, the storekeeper asked her, apparently, he didn't appreciate her leaving her coffee behind and not paying for it. Flushed, she nodded her head.

"Yes, of course," she politely replied, a little offended that the man acted as if she was the type of person who cannot afford a $1 coffee. She turned to the man she rescued from the storm. He was so tall and she never really realised it until now that he was standing so close to her. He was drenched from head to toe like her and his overgrown, dark hair clung to his face, concealing most of his face from her. "You want some coffee?" she asked him. She felt his blue eyes on her. She knew he was glaring at her now. She didn't wait for his response and instead, filled another cup with coffee before paying the unimpressed storekeeper $2.

She turned to her new companion who seemed to be assessing the place judging by the way his blue eyes moved around. A few seconds later, his icy blue eyes landed on her and a scowl decorated his face. She wondered what he would look like without the scowl. "Here's your coffee," she handed him one of the cups, "careful, it's pretty hot."

"I don't want it," he muttered while she was sipping her own coffee.

"Please," her brown eyes found his blue eyes as she pleaded politely. He continued to scowl but took the cup from her hand anyway. He didn't take a sip and she assumed he was only waiting for it to cool down a little. "I'm Alaska Talley," she introduced herself while keeping her free hand extended towards him, "call me Alaska, Lassie, Ali or whatever you wanna call me." She smiled at him friendlily. He glared down at her extended hand and took notice of her multi-coloured knitted gloves. He ignored her extended hand and refused to shake it. "So what do you go by? I know you told me earlier that you didn't know your name but surely people call you something. My mother calls me a little shit all the time and I still consider that a name." She grinned at him, showing him her teeth, they were white and straight.

He continued to glare at her while he remained quiet. She was asking him for a name. He had two but he didn't know which name to go by. Soldier…he could almost hear a voice call him but there was another voice in his head, the blonde man's voice and he called him Bucky. He looked down at her face, she was expectantly waiting for his response. "Bucky," he told her, his voice sounded raspy as he listened to the way the name came out of his mouth. It sounded familiar and it felt familiar…way too familiar.

She smiled. "Bucky," she repeated. He thought it sounded nicer when she said it but despite that, the scowl on his face remained. "It's nice to meet you, Bucky."