Disclaimer: I do not own anything that Marvel does, including but not limited to Avengers and Captain America. I own any OCs unless otherwise stated and my plot/ideas unless otherwise stated.

Summary: They were both damaged, made to think a certain way and believe lie after lie that was fed to them. He was lucky enough to have a friend to pull him out, to save him and help him. She had no one. She was trapped. When you experience certain things you start to recognize them in other people around you, even if you don't know them, even if you've never seen them before in your life. He was lucky enough to have someone to save him, so why not save her?

Warnings: Angst, abuse, depression, PTSD,

Rated: M

A/N: I don't normally write angst or sad stuff, I have a few stories that deal with/have depression in them but I mostly try to write happy. This will eventually be fluffy and happy but we gotta get through the rough parts first.

Steve had sent him to the store, saying it would be good for him to do something by himself and not have the pressure of having a time limit. He had told him to pick out whatever he wanted, whatever he liked. That's why Bucky had been standing in the same aisle staring at cereal for, no exaggeration, ten minutes. He knew what Steve liked but Bucky knew if he came back to the apartment with things Steve liked that Steve would just send him back out again. It didn't help that even if he did remember what he liked there were so many new things that had replaced them.

Bucky knew if he spent any longer on cereal that the rest of the trip would have similar results and Steve would start to get worried and come see if he was okay. He appreciated the fact that his friend was there for him but Steve had been babying him as much as he had been pushing him to become more independent. One minute Steve would be making lunch for him then next he was sending Bucky out to the store alone with a credit card and no list. Steve had let him borrow his clothes for the first few weeks that he stayed with him before he took Bucky to the store and did everything put dress him.

He knew Steve would never kick him out or force him to find his own place but he could only stay on Steve's couch for so long before he felt like a freeloader. Even though Steve had told him time and time again that they didn't need to worry about money it still bothered Bucky that he couldn't help out. It wasn't like he could get a job with his reputation and there was no hiding who he was unless he changed his name and replaced his arm. He already had trouble with remembering his real name he didn't need to makes things more complicated by changing it and, despite the fact that his arm came from the people who ruined his life, his arm was very useful; it was better than nothing.

Bucky let out a sigh as he looked between the cereal boxes. He looked down at the small plastic basket he was holding in his right hand and the lone soda that lay in it. It was Steve's favorite. Bucky couldn't think of a single thing he liked. He didn't know if he liked sweet things or sour things. Was he the kind of guy who liked spicy food? Did he drink coffee in the morning or juice? What was his favorite fruit? His favorite colour, movie, book, season; he had absolutely no clue who he was. All he had was a name, a name of a man who died over 70 years ago. He wasn't that man, he couldn't be. That man ended when he fell from that train, when they replaced his arm, put him on ice and made him…

He remembered each hit. It was the one thing he couldn't ever forget no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't tell you if he liked dogs or cats but he could tell you each and every time he killed. Every man, woman and child he had ended, every life that was deemed a threat or a liability that he was sent to snuff out. Innocent or guilty he was their sentence. Their faces filled his thoughts at night. Sometimes he would lie awake until morning going through each one. He didn't want to but they were always there. Bucky tried his best to forget but then he would have nights where he did fall asleep and he'd see them all over again. A few times Steve had to wake him and told him he'd been screaming in his sleep.

It was no use trying to remember. Whether he liked Lucky Charms or Frosted Flakes it didn't make a difference. Bucky didn't look at the box he grabbed; he just dropped it into the basket. A few more things and he could return to the apartment. He just hoped Steve wouldn't look too disappointed.

He turned to start walking but immediately bumped into someone. The woman let out a small squeak as she hit the ground and Bucky's eyes widened. She seemed tiny compared to him, even more so since she was on the floor. She seemed to be drowning in her clothing that seemed four sizes too big. Her hair was up in a hat, random strands poking out here and there. He couldn't help but notice the only make up she had on seemed to be on her left cheek that was slightly puffier than the rest of her face.

Bucky quickly switched the basket to his metal hand and offered her his right. She didn't take it but instead stood up on her own, picking up her own basket that she'd dropped.

"I-I'm so sorry! I should've watched where I was going." she rushed out, stumbling over her words. "I'm so sorry." She repeated. Even though she wouldn't meet his eyes, her gaze glued to the floor, he could see the pain in them, the fear and the damage.

Let me know what you think so far. It might be a while before I post the next part. I really wanted to get this out there.