The doctor wondered if she should start keeping a tally of her days on the wall like some cartoon character. For some reason she felt as though a count would make her feel better, feel as though time was actually passing as opposed her existence being one continuous, endless day. It would make her stay feel more accounted for. The only means she had of keeping track of her length of stay was James's calendar, something she didn't always have access to. Hellman had met with him three times already for scheduled visits, but those visits were almost equalled by the amount of off schedule visits she had to make due to his various on-base injuries. That also didn't include their unauthorized meetings, the ones that would get them up to their necks in shit if discovered.

Ultimately, all these encounters would indicate she had been there about ten days, more or less. Ten days, already two groups of tallies she could put a line through. She glanced halfheartedly at her medical bag on the floor, knowing she kept a Sharpie inside. However, no other muscle in her body moved to retrieve it. She didn't have the drive to do just about anything. She hadn't risen to get breakfast, not feeling hungry enough to leave the room. The doctor had been unneeded all morning, so she spent the time losing herself in her thoughts and staring at the ceiling, or lying on her bumpy cot sleeping. She had arrived at the stage of inactivity where she actually felt exhausted from doing so much of nothing. Additionally, she had no formal reason to visit James today; after all the time they spent together yesterday, she didn't want to risk being caught and receiving retaliation from someone. While her friend had the ability to sneak to her room unnoticed, she doubted she had the stealth to do the same.

Her door was currently open; about an hour or two before, having actually risen from her cot for a few moments, she left the entranceway ajar to try and let the stale air out of her room. The hallway had been rather inactive (just about as inactive as she had been) and she didn't find a reason to close it quite yet. She felt more suffocated than usual and assumed some circulation might do her good.

Lorelai could feel her eyes beginning to sag once more. The doctor felt no shame in this being her second nap that day, and her lids were about to close completely as she started to drift away...

"You've been asked for."

Lorelai rather ungracefully jolted from her bed, flailing her arms and legs from the scare she experienced. Her eyes now wide open, she stared at the company she was unaware had entered her space.

Rumlow was standing in her doorway, the previously ajar door now wide open, the man standing menacingly with his arms crossed. She swore he was casting a shadow on her as his eyes bore into her, his brow furrowed and his lips in a hard line. He seemed angry at her, even though she had yet to do anything to him that day. However, she was starting to realize that this was just his normal expression towards everyone, so she didn't have a particular need to feel worried just yet. From her point of view, he looked as big as the doorframe.

Beginning to recover from her initial fright and trying to regain some of her dignity, Lorelai slowly began to rise from her cot.

"You're gonna give me a heart attack moving around so quietly," she commented dryly, sitting up and positioning her body away from the agent. All feelings of sleep seemed to have left her, though she was a little stunned. She swung her legs around her cot.

Rumlow didn't seem to care about any cardiac issues she may experience from his light footing.

"You've been asked for," he repeated himself, his own tone unchanged from his previous statement.

"By who?" She was prepared for Pierce to be the one asking for her, and she would rather continue to watch the cracks form on her wall than go see that slimy man. Nevertheless she slipped on her shoes and reached for her bag, prepared to exit the room.

While his face held its permanent angry features, Rumlow's expression stayed somewhat neutral. But Lorelai could tell he was trying to hold something back. What it was, she wasn't very sure of.

"The Asset," he responded.

The statement had the young doctor practically springing in her seat, her whole demeanor changing as she tensed up. James asked for her? Lorelai tried conspicuously not to look too eager; she didn't want Rumlow getting the right idea that she wanted to see James. However, she felt a lump begin to form in her throat. What had happened that her friend actually did as she asked and requested her help? Bag in hand, she silently rose to her feet and stood before the agent, waiting for him to take the lead. After a final glance in her direction, the man turned away from her and exited out the door, the woman following closely behind.

There were two agents stationed outside the infirmary door when they arrived. Like the Red Sea they parted for Rumlow, still leading the pair, and he opened the door himself before strutting inside. The agent took a few large steps into the space and then stood to the side, allowing for the doctor to pass him. Lorelai paused for a moment as she took in the scene before her.

James was sitting on the metal bed in the middle of the room, watching as the new occupants of the room entered. Hellman met James's eyes immediately, sending about a hundred questions through a single gaze. James kept his own expression rather neutral, holding back his answers until they were alone. Lorelai then began to examine him from a distance, noting a how he clutched his left side with his right arm. She saw a shade of red on his white shirt, peeking out from under his hand, and felt a knot tie in her stomach.

Rumlow spoke then, his voice booming throughout the space as it echoed across the walls. The harsh intrusion effectively removed the doctor from her silent observations.

"Get him cleaned up," Rumlow commanded the doctor, not even looking in her direction. He instead kept his eyes locked on James, though the Asset's were on Lorelai. "He has a meeting with Pierce in two hours. I'll be back in one."

Without another word the man stomped out the door, passing the two others standing on either side of the entrance way. Though standing on the outside of the room, the door had been left open and they had a clear view inside. The pair seemed at a loss of what to do, whether to enter the room and stay with the woman as she worked, or stay outside. Lorelai decided to make the decision for them.

"Close the door," she turned and ordered the agents as they continued to gawk. The pair exchanged a glance, but after hesitating for a moment, one of them reached over and pulled the handle towards them. The door shut with a click.

When they were alone, her face whipped around towards her friend.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked, rushing to his side, her concern rather evident on her features. She noted that blood was continuing to seep through his shirt. "Here, let me take a look."

The doctor gingerly reached over to take his wrist, and he allowed her to remove his hand from whatever he was shielding. She was immediately met with the angry red in its full force. His side clearly had an open wound, though she couldn't determine its true severity because of all the blood and his shirt, which were obstructing her view.

"Oh my god," she huffed, examining it for a few short moments before placing his wrist back on the area. "Keep your hand on it, I'll get some gauze." She turned to gather her bag, shuffling through her supplies before pulling out a pack of clean bandages. Additionally, she got up to retrieve a pitcher of water and a clean towel to clean the wound. "I need you to lay on your side, okay? It'll make it easier for me to work, but don't remove the pressure." James nodded in affirmation and made it to a horizontal position, never removing his hand from his side.

"I'm going to roll up your shirt, okay?" He nodded once more, allowing her to continue her work. The soldier removed his hand momentarily as she brought the cloth past his injury. She noted the way his body twitched as her fingers cupped under the material and rolled his shirt to just under his chest, but she had other things to tend to than to think too much into it. Her hands were probably just cold. "You can let your side go now, I've got a hold of it."

Cleaning the area and removing most of the blood, Lorelai was able to get a better view of the injury site. It was a deep laceration, not exactly a direct puncture, but a long cut with enough depth to require stitches. A serrated edge most likely used.

The room abruptly felt hotter.

"Is this a knife wound?" she demanded of the man on the table, her voice clearly agitated. As she questioned him, she took his wrist once more, placed a cloth in his hand, and positioned it over the wound so he could resume applying pressure himself. He glanced up at her as she left his side momentarily to rifle angrily through her bag. "What, just using you as a punching bag isn't good enough anymore?"

"Training exercises," he replied simply, keeping his eyes on her. He watched as she shook her head, infuriated.

Pulling out her needle and thread, and a vial of pain medicine, she cast him a grim glance. "I honestly don't know what to say to that." She left the side of the table for a moment to wash her hands, and then returned to unwrap the sterile materials and thread her needle. "You have to see me far too often, my friend. How're you feeling, how's the pain?"

He shrugged his shoulders slightly, a little awkwardly from his position on the table.

"Manageable."

The doctor chuckled.

"Considering you have a knife wound in your side, I don't believe you, but okay."

He glanced over at her to see her smiling at him, and he couldn't help but allow his phantom smirk to show as well. Lorelai then turned and began to fill a syringe with the pain medication, prepping to use it around his injury. She didn't notice that James never turned to look away from her, or that his expression had changed as he observed her.

"You won't need that," James spoke up, before she even finished filling the syringe.

The young doctor paused in her work, giving the man a confused glance.

"I'm about to stitch you up, it won't be very pleasant without this stuff."

He shook his head. "It won't matter. I burn it too quickly for it to work."

The explanation gave her pause. She was aware his metabolism made him go through medication much quicker, but she didn't consider it wouldn't allow for the pain medication to work at all. The realization truly bemused her. He needed the stitching, but she was uncomfortable with the thought of doing it under these conditions. She placed down the syringe and vial, at a loss of what to do. What should she do? Administer some in the hopes it helps at least a little? Not administer it at all and save it for someone who could actually benefit from it?

Lorelai gave the man an unhappy look, great discomfort on her features.

"I've never stitched anyone without pain meds. That would be… awful..."

James wondered for a moment whether he should have told her or not. She was obviously feeling a lot of distress at the thought of hurting him, even to fix him, and he felt a deep discomfort knowing she felt such nervousness over him.

"It's okay, you can't do anything about it," he tried to reassure her.

An unknown force had him beginning to reach out towards her, trying to give her a comfort she had given him so many times now. But upon realizing what he was doing, especially since it was his metal arm that was extending to her, he retracted it. Though she had already proven herself to be unafraid of his enhancement, he was unwilling to test his limits. Also, he was unclear what made him do it in the first place.

The action didn't go unnoticed by the conflicted woman, neither the extension, retraction or the hesitation he displayed. In response, she reached over and took his metal hand in hers, giving it was squeeze. His eyes went from their joined hands to her eyes. She had a tight smile on her face.

"Okay," she responded. "I'll be as quick as I can."

With that, she released her grip, going to retrieve her thread and needle. James could still feel the warmth her hand left behind.

As promised, Lorelai began stitching James's side as quickly as she was able to without compromising her work, and as always, James was a trooper. Though his body reacted to the needle piercing his skin time and time again, his form tense and hands gripping the table, the man didn't make a single sound. The woman couldn't believe how well he was taking the whole situation, being that she was used to the usual indicators of discomfort being lots of complaining or yelling. However, Lorelai was unaware that on the contrary, James was not doing very well at all.

He felt entirely too warm, the Winter Soldier did, and lifting his head made the room and Lorelai spin around him. There was something about the stitching that was triggering him, almost as if there was a distance, unpleasant memory attached to the action, to the feel of this metal in his skin. Dealing with the pain wasn't a problem, but the feeling of the needle entering and exiting his skin stirred something in him, an anxiety he couldn't explain. Even knowing that Lorelai was the one stitching him couldn't ease the quiet angst he was experiencing. He could feel a dull ache forming in his left shoulder, where his flesh and metal arm connected. He wondered if his body remembered things from his past life his mind did not.

James almost felt as though he was having an out of body experience; he gripped the table tighter to find some kind of anchor. He tried to concentrate not on the needle, but on the feeling of Lorelai's other hand resting on his side to steady her stitching. Even throughout his episode, he couldn't forget the feeling of her skin on his, that she was still there with him.

In his distress, James opened his eyes for a moment, and he saw.. white. Though, not as if his vision was blurred, but as if something was falling gently from the ceiling… snow...

While it still took some time, the wound thankfully wasn't long enough to require a lot of work to be done. Finishing up, Lorelai victoriously discarded the used needle and cut the excess thread, and then dabbed the area with a moist cloth to clean the blood that still stained his skin.

"There, all finished," she announced after working in silence, examining her handiwork. James, still in a rather upset state, turned his head towards her, looking up at her through weary eyes. "I'll come back again tomorrow and check on how this is doing. Knowing you this will take a few days max to clear up. I'll be able to take the stitches out before you know it."

The doctor glanced with a smile over to the man, expecting the news to be well received. However, she noted immediately that while he had turned to acknowledge her, his face looked rather ashen, and a line of sweat was present across his forehead. He looked dazed.

"Hey, how're you doing?" she questioned him, concerned at his sickly appearance. She had made the mistake of believing his silence meant he had been doing fine over the course of the procedure.

"Tired," he answered groggily, not providing any more insight to his condition. James was surprised he could get that out. But no longer having the needle pierce his skin, the snow had disappeared, and he felt his body and his mind slowly becoming one again. However, he truly was worn out. While Lorelai could only imagine how exhausting being stitched without pain meds could be on the body, she could see the problem extended beyond that.

"Stay down, don't sit up," she commanded him, and he nodded slightly, his eyes closing for another moment. Quickly walking to the sink, she filled a cup with cold water and wetted a washcloth, then returned to the table and James's side.

Lorelai gently touched his shoulder, making this eyes open once more. "Here, take some smalls sips of this." She took his flesh hand and placed the cup in it. When he secured a grip, he did as he was told and drank, first taking small sips and then drinking a little more heavily. He didn't realize until then how thirsty he was. When he emptied the cup and placed his head back on the table, she took the washcloth and placed it over his forehead. James immediately felt relief from the cool fabric touching his hot head.

Lorelai leaned against the table looking down at the pale man. She felt so stupid; he may be unlike other patients she had, but he was still a man, capable of feeling pain. She was having difficulty finding the fine line of what he could and couldn't take. She hesitated for a moment, but a feeling in her chest overpowered her; she gently ran her fingers through James's hair in a comforting gesture, and continued to do this for a few moments. Was the action professional? Maybe not. But she knew their situation moved beyond professionalism. His opened his eyes to look up at her.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," she told him guiltily. "Are you feeling better?" He nodded, though still looking at her with a glazed look. "Okay. I'm gonna find you a clean shirt." The one he currently wore had a large, blood-stained hole on the side, and she had a feeling having him changed was a part of Rumlow's "get him cleaned up" directions.

After a few moments of the searching through various drawers, she was about to find another clean, white shirt for the man. Returning to the table, she set the clothing near his feet, but didn't intend for him to move just yet. She wanted him to rest for a bit longer before she had him trying to sit up.

"I think you should try and rest your eyes for a few minutes," the doctor told her patient. "Rumlow said he'd be back in an hour; I'd say you have at least half an hour to relax."

James would admit that a even of few minutes of sleep would probably benefit him then, especially since he was going to meet with Pierce in a short period of time. However, he didn't want to waste time spent with Lorelai either. He'd rather be injured and have a reason to see her than be unscaved and have to wait for one of their appointments. Also, he didn't want to wake up and find she wasn't there anymore.

As if seeing right through him, the doctor gave the man a gentle smile.

"I'm not going anywhere," she reassured him, reaching over to squeeze his flesh hand. In the back of her mind, she mused at how easily he took it in his own, but she was happy with the progress in trust they were making. "I'll wake you up before Rumlow gets here."

Then, too soon in James's opinion, she released his hand and left the side of the table, moving to look through more drawers on the other side of the room. Now that she was no longer there to look at, James did as instructed and closed his eyes. Almost immediately he began to drift, the darkness beckoning him to shut down his exhausted mind…

James was no longer in the infirmary. He was outside. He was moving quickly though standing still. He was alone.

Mountains were rushing past him, and snow was falling all around him as he continued to move along at an impossible speed, the wind moving through him. He looked down at his feet and finally realized his mode of transportation; he was standing atop a train moving steadily along the tracks. He had no problem keeping his balance as it continued on its journey. He seemed to be glued to the metal beneath his boots. The gazed in wonder for a moment at the sight before him. Mountains larger than skyscrapers topped with glistening snow… it was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen before.

This definitely isn't Brooklyn anymore...

He suddenly felt that he was no longer alone, eyes bearing into him from behind. He whipped around to face an unfamiliar man dressed in black clothing. James had never seen his man before, he was sure of it. The man had hollow eyes and a blank expression, and he didn't make a sound as he raised his arm towards James, a gun in hand. The soldier didn't have time to react. Before the Winter Soldier could move, this man pulled the trigger and a gunshot boomed throughout his ears.

James couldn't feel a bullet enter him. He looked down and couldn't even see an entry wound, no proof that he had been hit at all. However, he had begun to feel exceptionally cold. The sensation was creeping in his body like an ivy inside him, starting at the base of his spine and making its way upward. He began to breathe heavier, his vision clouding. And then, as if the floor had disappeared from beneath him, he started to fall...

"BUCKY!"

"James."

The soldier's eyes shot open immediately, his heart pounding in his chest. He flattened himself into the table, clinging to the solid surface he now found himself on. Instead of the white of snow blinding him, it was now the brightness of the light situated above him, and after a few seconds he could feel his fear subsiding. However, his heart continued to beat more forcefully than he would have liked.

"How're you feeling? Better?"

He looked to his side, and there Lorelai was standing over him, a small smile on her face. She obviously wasn't aware of his inner conflicts. Besides his new uneasiness, he was no longer suffering from his earlier aliment. The room was no longer spinning around him and the nausea in his abdomen had ceased. He nodded to the woman.

"Well enough to sit up?" she questioned him, wanting to be sure. He nodded once more. "Okay, let's get you up then. Rumlow'll be back soon."

Mostly on his own accord, James sat up from the table, Lorelai keeping her hand on this back to make sure he was steady. She gave him another look over to make sure he was truly showing signs of improvement and he wasn't just trying to appease her, and she immediately noted that his color had returned and he was no longer sweating. The doctor handed the man the clean t-shirt she had found earlier and turned away to give him a moment of privacy while he changed. When he was ready, she collected his torn, bloodied shirt, not quite she was what to do with it. However, when she spotted a waste can in the corner of the room, she figured that was best place for the ruined clothing. She walked over to the basket to put the shirt in its final resting place.

Lorelai had just thrown the shirt in away when Rumlow all but barreled into the infirmary, making the woman jump out of her skin from across the room. James just sat motionless on the table, the sudden entrance not startling him.

Rumlow bore his eyes into the scene in front of him, looking for any sign of disorder. When the soldier had requested the presence of the doctor, a red flag went off in the agent's mind. The soldier had never requested assistance from one of the doctors before, and the injury he sustained, while not minor, wasn't the worse he had had from the hands of other agents. He couldn't form an explanation for it. However, he saw his asset sewed up, no long bleeding, and wearing a clean shirt, indicating that all his tasks had been performed as ordered. The doctor was standing motionlessly on the other side of the room, staring at Rumlow like a rabbit eyeing a hawk, trying to remain unnoticed. There was nothing to make him suspicious. That didn't make the suspicion leave him.

"Let's go," he commanded stiffly to James, not verbally acknowledging Lorelai's work or presence in the room. He exited without another word, the sound of his boots echoing off the walls as he disappeared.

James arose from the table and began to follow Rumlow, pausing for a moment to look over at the woman. The two locked eyes. Lorelai gave him a small smile and nodded, knowing he had to leave immediately. He nodded as well but didn't share his phantom smirk, unhappy with his sudden exit. He then turned away and left the room himself.

Lorelai was alone.

A day had passed and it was late. Dr. Hellman was lying on her cot, exhausted, but this time for reasons other than doing nothing all day. Today had been unreasonably eventual. First, a fight had broken out between three agents, and the injuries they sustained weren't mere scratches and bruises. One of the men had a dislocated shoulder, another a badly busted face. The third was better off than the other two, but still had a long laceration going down the side of his face which needed tending to. Apparently many of the agents present had let the situation play out before they intervened, and by then a good amount of damage had been done. She had to treat all them back to back, and at one point, two of them had broken out fighting again, the first altercation apparently not giving the satisfaction they were looking for. Lorelai had to call in agents passing by to help break the pair up, not daring to do it herself. She didn't know what the fight had been about, and didn't care enough to find out. The whole ordeal lasted a few hours, partly because none of them were very good patients, but especially because most of her work had been undone when the two started going at it again.

Them, along with another agent coming in with injuries from a training incident, had her beat. It was by far the most effort she had had to put into her job since being brought to the base, however she had to admit she'd rather it be this way. Boredom for her was much more tortuous than being busy.

She hadn't seen James, not that she was expecting to. She wondered how his meeting with Pierce had went. The thought of meeting with that slimey man made her skin crawl, but she had a feeling he was able to fair much better in those situations than she could. At first she wondered what the meeting was about, however, the more she thought about it, the more she realized she probably didn't want to know. While she knew James wasn't the mindless monster the men on this base would have her believe, she wasn't disillusioned with what he was capable of doing.

The doctor was lying on her side, staring at the wall she couldn't see because her lights were already turned off. The door to her room was closed, and every once in awhile she would hear the sound of boots walking by, echoing off the walls. Her heart would begin to beat a little faster, assuming they were coming to get her, but then the steps would continue on, leaving her alone. She had already showered and prepared herself for the night, so she was just waiting, hair damp, sweatpants on, for some we deserved sleep to overtake her.

A knock sounded on the door, making the woman's eyes snap open. She wasn't startled exactly, but confused that she hadn't heard any of those footsteps come to the door before the knock. She groaned internally, assuming it was the light footed Rumlow again. However, as she rose to her feet and turned the lights on, she wondered why Rumlow's knock would be so gentle…

Lorelai opened the door and surprised to find James in the hallway, dressed in his normal garb of sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He stood there with his back straight, his hands at his sides, unmoving like a statue before her. The only indication that there was life in him was how his eyes seemed to light up upon seeing her in the doorway. His appearance at her room startled her more than the knock itself, truly not believing it would be him at the door. It took her a moment to collect herself, and when she finally recovered, she assumed something was wrong.

"Hey, you good?" she finally asked him, taking him by the arm and ushering him into her room. She didn't want to take the chance of anyone seeing him there. She glanced into the hallway for a moment before quickly and quietly closing the door. She turned to him. "Is everything okay? Here sit down-"

"I can't stay," he answered her, declining her offer. Then, without another word, he pulled an object out of the wide pocket of this pants and handed it wordlessly to her.

Lorelai was rather surprised at the offer, and took it cautiously while giving him a confused smile. She genuinely had no idea what he could have had for her.

"What's this?" she questioned him. Not waiting for an answer, she turned it over and felt her chest beginning to get a little tighter.

To Have and Have Not was the title of the novel in her grasp, a work by Ernest Hemingway she had heard of before, but didn't know anything about. It was a paperback version of decent size, and well worn by the looks of it. She felt her grip on the object tighten. One of her simplest wishes had been granted. A book. Something to pass her time on base that didn't involve her staring at a wall or falling to sleep. Lorelai looked up at James with eyes wide and mouth gaped.

"You got me a book?" she questioned him, her voice was barely above a whisper she was in so much shock. "Where did you…" She let her own question die out and looked through the first pages, as if she didn't believe it was real.

James didn't respond and only continued to look down at her, unsure of what to do next. He shifted in his stance uncomfortably. Not that he would explain, but the book was from Pierce's home bookshelf. His meetings between Pierce and himself almost always took place at his home, late at night when he was the only one there and James could come in undetected. When they concluded, Pierce always had James see himself out, simply leaving the room and heading to bed. After last night's meeting when Pierce had departed, James was about to leave the residence when he spotted the bookshelf in the corner of the room. Upon noticing it, Lorelai's defeated comments began circling his mind, and he quickly decided that she needed it more than Pierce did. Without any hesitation, he grabbed a book at random, not even reading to see what the title was, and exited the director's home.

But James didn't need to react. After a moment of trying and failing to compose herself, Lorelai stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, startling him. She hugged him closely, still in a slight state of shock. She never would have believed he would think of her this way and take the time to bring her this.

"Thank you," she breathed into his chest, tightening her grip on him every so slightly.

The doctor wasn't upset when the soldier didn't return her embrace. She honestly wasn't expecting him to. But she needed him to know how grateful she was for the small act that for a little while would make life here even that smallest bit more bearable. After a moment, she released him.

She began to examine the book on all its surfaces, reading over the cover, the spine, and flipping through the first couple of pages, seeing just want her friend had brought her. All the while, James was still standing in the exact place she left him, the man suddenly very warm. He found himself unable to shake the feeling of her arms around him and her body so close to his. He watched her cheerfully study his gift for a few moments. He felt pleased to have made her so happy.

I forget when I said I would originally get this out, but here we are. This chapter was supposed to be about 8000 words but I decided to save the next part for the next chapter. Hope you all enjoy. Until next time!