Disclaimer: As much as I wish I owned Captain America and his gang of misfits, I don't. All recognizable characters belong to their respective owners. Anyone else is a creation from the depths of my imagination.

AN: After watching Captain America: Civil War, my muse drifted to this fandom and wouldn't leave me alone until I had something written down. Ouala! Ideas. This is an OC/Bucky story which begins sometime in the three years between Winter Soldier and Civil War.

To the readers of The Long Way Down, don't worry! I'm still working on the next chapter, hopefully you can enjoy this in the meantime.

Enjoy! :)

Chapter One

The building was a bust. Just like the rest.

Squinting into the dark space before her, green eyes following the beam of her flashlight as she flicked it around the large room. Nothing. Just another dusty, empty room.

Shoving down the frustration that threatened to creep into her thoughts, she reached up to adjust the dark bandana that covered the lower half of her face, reminding herself that despite another empty room, she still needed to check out the rest of the building before calling it a night.

And honestly, what had she expected? Hydra had always done an excellent job at covering their tracks, even before SHIELD fell. Hell, they'd been hiding in plain sight for decades and no one had been the wiser. Why would this be any different?

On to the next. She sighed, stepping back out into the eerily quiet hallway. It was clear that the building hadn't been in use for quite awhile - the air smelt stale and the paint on the concrete walls had started bubbling and flaking off from the damp. Even so, she kept her footsteps light as she crept along, keeping an ear out for any unwanted company. Just because the building hadn't been used in years didn't mean that the local cops would welcome her break-in.

Stepping into the next room, she nearly wrote it off after a quick glance. Small and empty. Looked like it must have been used as a storage closet. However, when she turned to leave, the light from her flashlight landed on a panel on the wall at the back of the room.

Pausing, she eyed the back wall. Something about it was off.

With a frown, she stepped towards it, wondering what exactly had caught her attention.

Aiming her flashlight towards the floor, she noted the scratches on the cement floor, which told her that something - probably shelving - used to stand along the back wall, but had been taken away at some point. It was clear it had been moved quite often.

Bingo. She thought, reaching up to run her gloved fingers along the edge, feeling for anything that might trigger an opening, anything that would tell her it was anything more than a wall panel.

It would have been annoying if it was just an entrance to the ventilation ducting. But when her finger caught on a tab along the side, she leaned forward excitedly to peer at it. She'd thought correct, there was a latch!

Pushing it down, she was momentarily surprised at the ease at which it moved. After all, it had been at least a couple of years since anyone had been through here. She shrugged it off. It worked in her favour.

Feeling the panel shift as she dug her fingers into the gap, she reached across and grasped the far edge with her other hand and pulled.

The whole front of the panel slid out of the wall and into her hands, the cover feeling like little more than a metal sheet.

The gap behind the panel looked like it might have stored files at one time, but all that remained was piles of ashes. It was clear that someone had tried to burn whatever evidence they could. But as she brushed aside some of the ashes, she realized that they must have left in a rush, not having made sure that every was burnt - there were still some readable pages in the middle. Excellent.

"See. This is what happens when you don't take the time to do things properly..." she sung quietly to herself, further dusting off the papers she could see and pulled them out.

Crouching down, she set her flashlight on its end so that it illuminated the entire room, giving her enough light to see what she was doing. Using her now spare hands, she carefully spread the sheets out on the floor, picking out the ones that were too burnt to read, and setting aside the ones that were still usable.

A beep from the earpiece in her ear momentarily distracted her and she reached up, pressing the 'Accept' button.

"Yeah?" she asked, eyes roaming over the pages on the floor, landing on different numbers and dates. Though most of the pages were singed along the edges, making it difficult to figure out what they meant.

"You find anything?" Ian's voice demanded immediately.

"Nah. Place is empty like the rest," she murmured to him.

When he gave a huge sigh, she rolled her eyes, knowing what he was about to say. "Just like I told you it would be. Like the last place, and the one before that-"

"But," she started, cutting him off before he could keep reminding her about her lack of progress.

At her interruption he quieted down, waiting for her to continue. However, she let the silence draw out, leaving him to stew for the moment, knowing that his frustration would be on the rise when she didn't immediately answer.

Five, four, three, two, one...

"Charlieeeee," he finally moaned and she couldn't contain her smirk. "Come on, don't do this to me. You can't just say 'But' and then not say anything else."

"Oh, stop whining," she snapped back, although the words held no heat to them. "I found some paper work that looks pretty interesting. Most of it's burnt, but some of it's legible."

"Hydra?" he perked up, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

Eyes skimming the papers on the floor, she checked for any sign of the distinctive emblem. Nothing.

"Maybe. Nothing definite, but it's a possibility. The box was hidden behind a panel in the wall," she explained, flipping it back open, eyes running down the columns of information. "And this is an old hideout, so who knows."

"Anything interesting?"

"It looks like old records of some kind. Mission records maybe?" she guessed. "I mean- there're no names or anything...just reference numbers, some locations and dates. Think it could be of use?"

Ian hummed thoughtfully on the line. "Maybe. Although I won't know until I give it a more thorough look-see," he paused, and she could hear him hesitate before he continued. "Charlie," he finally said, tone soft, and she closed her eyes, clenching her jaw in response, knowing from his tone what he was about to say. It was a conversation that had come up more and more in recent months. And was not one that she was ever happy to have. "It's been three years."

"Yeah, so?" she asked mulishly and he paused again. She briefly wondered if he was going to try a different tactic this time to get her to stop looking.

He didn't.

"...We haven't seen or heard anything in three years. Don't you think if she were out there we would have caught wind of something by now?" he asked her cautiously.

"We might be looking in the wrong places." she told him bluntly, sliding her backpack off her back and unzipping it. "There are plenty of other hideouts she could be in. Besides, your last source seemed to think something was up here in Bucharest."

"Yeah…" he hesitated and took a deep breath. "But Charlie, I think after this one I'm done."

She froze, file half way into the bag. "What?" she breathed out in shock. "What do you mean 'you're done'? Just like that, you're giving up?" she demanded, anger seeping into her words.

He hurried to reassure her. "No! I mean...yeah...kind of?" he said meekly before groaning. "Look, I just think that it's time to move on. We aren't any closer to finding Lydia today, then we were three years ago. Every Hydra base we've checked is empty, and there was never much no evidence that Hydra even took her in the first place! And well...it's been three years...What the chance that she's still-"

"Don't," she snapped, cutting him off, hands clenched around the thick material of her backpack. She wanted to ignore the painful truth behind his words, but she knew he was right. They had been looking for so long for three years and were still empty handed.

"I know you don't want to give up," he said softly. "But... maybe it's time? Lydia. She wouldn't want you to waste your life like this."

Carefully stuffing the papers into her back, she angrily sat back on her heels, an angry retort on her lip when she froze, eyeing the door. Tilting her head to the side, she listened intently. At first she didn't hear anything, but then there was a 'swish' of movement, the sound of someone moving hit her ears, coming from outside the room, back in the hallway.

Heart suddenly racing, she quietly cursed that the dim light of her flashlight didn't provide any help as she stared out into the pitch black on the other side of the doorway.

Stay calm. It could be anything. These old building are full of rats. And three years of abandonment is plenty of time for squatters to move in.

She kept her movement's calm, finishing zipping up her backpack and sliding it onto her back, all the while keeping a casual eye on the empty doorway, the earlier conversation forgotten entirely.

"Mac," she said as she pushed herself to her feet, addressing Ian by an old nickname that her and Lydia had given them back during training. "Look, I understand what you're saying but I think I have everything I need."

"Mac?" Ian replied in her ear, sounding entirely perplexed at the change in her tone. "You haven't called me that in years. Not since - Oh. Shit. You think there someone there with you?"

"It's possible," she replied calmly, picking up the flashlight and giving the room a quick flash, as if to see if there was anything else of interest, but hoping that the change in lighting would light up the space outside the door so she could see.

No luck.

The more she stood around and thought about it, the more she was convinced there was someone else in here with her. And the more she was convinced they were standing just out in the hallway waiting for her.

"Shit," Ian repeated. "You have a gun on you?"

She couldn't help it. She snorted. "What do you think?" she said, even as she reached behind her and pulled her 9mm handgun out of her waistband, where she'd hidden it under her jacket. Flipping off the safety, she held the gun comfortably in front of her.

"Right. Right. Sorry, stupid question," Ian huffed. "Since I know you are going to hang-up on me any second, I want you to promise me that you'll phone me as soon as you get back to your apartment. Okay?" he asked, sounding worried.

"As always," she agreed, a wry smile crossing her face. He worried too much.

"And Charlie," he said seriously, his tone making her pause. "You're in an ex-Hydra base. It might not just be you scouting out the area. If you need to use it, then do it."

"I'm not going to use it, Mac," she told him firmly.

"I know you don't want to. But if it comes down to it. Protect yourself."

"If it comes down to it, I'll just shoot and run," she grumbled lowly, before speaking up. "I promise I'll be careful Mac. I'll give you a call as soon as I can."

He sighed. "Alright. Be careful, Charlie."

"Always am," she replied, and with a push of a button, she was alone.

Gun held steadily in one hand, she braced her other hand holding the flashlight across the opposite forearm, aiming with both in the same direction. For a moment she stood facing the doorway, willing herself to step forwards into the dark. For a few heartbeats she held herself perfectly still, straining to hear anything from outside the room, but nothing came to her. Yet, while she couldn't hear anything, on an instinctual level she knew she wasn't alone in the building. There was someone else out there.

Now or never. She told herself, willing her feet to move. Come on, you've never been a coward before.

With that she stepped forward, took a breath and stepped into the hallway. She quickly pointed her handgun and flashlight down one end of the hallway before rotating to face the other way, feeling relieved that there was no one in sight.

Just go back the way you came. With a quick glance into the shadow behind her, she began creeping down the hallway, the still air sending a chill down her spine as she moved. The place sure as hell hadn't felt like this when she'd arrived.

Upon her first T-crossing, she paused to peer around each corner before proceeding to the left. Heart pounding, ears straining.

Right up ahead, across the room, out the window. Right, across and out. Right, across and out.

The window she'd slid through earlier in the evening was in sight when things went wrong.

She'd been just about to dart across the room to her exit, when a figure darted out of the shadow her left, slapping down against her hand that held the gun.

Grunting in both surprise and pain, she dropped her gun, fingers instantly numb by the force of the blow.

Not given a second to react, a second fist followed swiftly with a heavy blow to her chest, sending her slamming into the concrete wall behind her, her flashlight skittering away across the floor.

For a second all she felt was pain. Her ribs throbbed. Her lungs screamed for oxygen. God, she couldn't breathe!

Stunned, she barely had a second to gasp for breath, before the shadowy figure in front of her moved and she ducked to the side on instinct.

The fist that slammed into the spot she had been standing only a second before cracked the wall with ease, chunks of concrete and dust flying through the air on impact.

Holy fuck, that could have been your head.

He was fast, and holy damn, he was strong.

But he'd missed, and he was close enough to see the stubble on his chin despite the dark. So she used that to her advantage.

Lashing out with her right hand, she aimed for his throat, hoping that maybe she could at least stun him long enough to grab her gun and get the fuck out of there.

But with reflexes that should have been impossible, he casually leaned out of the way of her attack, like he'd seen it coming from a mile away. He ducked under her arm and stepped towards her all in one graceful move. Seemingly effortless. With one move, he had her boxed in with his much larger frame, pinning her to the wall with his proximity.

She could even feel the material of his jacket with her still outreached hand.

Panic flaring through her when his hand snaked up, reached for her throat.

Not taking a second to think, she reacted.

Throwing her other hand towards his stomach, she felt the air around her react, and pushed.

The result was instantaneous.

Her attacker was suddenly no longer standing in front of her, and had flown across the room, colliding with the far wall with a small grunt, clearly taken by surprise. He hadn't expected that.

Holding her hand out in front of her, she kept him pinned to the far wall as she gasped for breath, struggling to get air into her lungs after the blow she'd taken to the chest. Her lungs were slow to recover, leaving her coughing and wheezing.

Even though she couldn't see his face in the dim lighting, she could feel the harsh glare he was sending her way. She could feel the strain of him pushing back.

God, he was strong.

It terrified her.

She needed to get the hell out of here.

Adrenaline pumping through her, her whole body felt like it was shaking as she stepped away from the support of the wall, making sure to stay facing him as she moved. Hurrying as fast as her body would let her, she scooped up her gun, holding it firmly in hand.

His fight against her push increased exponentially the moment she touched the gun. She could see his arms shaking as they began to move as he tried to escape her grip.

She was losing control. Fast.

Outoutout!

Not delaying another second, she slid the gun into her waistband and scooped up her flashlight. Shutting it off, she shoved it into her back pocket before hurrying to the wall. Leaping up, she gripped the window ledge, hauling herself up and through the partially open window.

She stumbled as she landed hard on the other side, but took off at a sprint the moment she had her feet under her, despite the protest of her lungs. She needed to get as far away from there as fast as she could.

It was only when she was more than a few blocks away from the building that she felt her control slip entirely.

But somehow she had a feeling he'd been moving long before then.

AN: Any thoughts? Please let me know! A review only takes a minute of your time and makes an incredible difference an author's day! And I will personally answer each and every one!

Thanks so much for reading!