Violet in the Winter (Bucky FanFic)

Deep

Of course Bucky and Sam wanted to verify things, and so we made our way back to headquarters. I sat outside of Fury's office for a few minutes, trying to listen in on the back and forth. From what I caught, they weren't sure about me, which to be fair was a good mindset. It was hard to trust just anyone and if anyone taught me about trust, it was the master of distrust himself: Fury.

I eventually left my post in front of Fury's office and made my way to the weapons room. S.H.I.E.L.D was small and growing again, but you could bet they had at least a weapons room. It was little more than an oversized maintenance room. The walls were outfitted with gun racks, carrying guns ranging from sniper rifles to service hand guns. A few lockers were installed for storage of bullet proof vests and ammunition, and the center of the room had three silver tables. I made my way to one of the lockers, fishing out a tactical vest for myself, when there was the gentle sound of the bottom of the door scraping the floor.

"I suppose Fury cleared up your questions," I said without turning around.

"How'd you know," Bucky's voice echoed in the room. My body tensed momentarily. I had no idea why, but I didn't expect him to be the one looking for me. I turned as he stood, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were locked onto me like I was some piece of art he was trying to figure out.

"The door scrapes the floor and makes just the faintest of noises when it opens," I explained, moving from the locker to center table, laying the vest down. Bucky nodded, looking at the bottom of the door and back to me.

"Sorry if I seemed mistrustful earlier."

"Don't be. It's a good trait to have especially with the world the way it is."

The room grew quiet again as we both kept our mouths closed. I didn't exactly know how to address him. He was a surly, super soldier with a metal arm, and a long history of being at war. I was... I didn't know what I was.

"Have you tried finding out about your past," he asked suddenly. I placed my palms flat on the silver table, leaning my weight on it before I addressed him.

"Of course. I have no fingerprints in the system, no dental records or birth certificate. Fury spent months searching for a shred of evidence. It was like...I just appeared out of thin air."

"I'm sure there's gotta be something out there."

"Possibly. I stopped looking for answers a long time ago and focused on helping here with Fury."

"You and Fury seem...close."

I looked at him, my mouth tugged into a lopsided smile.

"Do we?"

"Yeah, he talked highly of you. He said you were his best since Natasha and Clint, and I worked with them, er well...sort of."

He looked like he was trying to find the right words to explain, but was failing.

"No need, I've read you up."

"Oh, you have?"

My eyes flashed upwards and he smiled. For that moment, he didn't look like the scary, highly trained assassin I had read about. He looked like a sweet guy, who had a boyish charm about him.

"Fury told me it'd be wise to know who I worked with," I let out, trying to sound professional.

"So tell me what you know."

"Okay..." I paused for a moment, trying to gather myself as I straightened up from the table. "Well for starters, you were born in Brooklyn, New York. You met Steve Rogers when you were kids and had been best friends ever since. You were drafted in the second world war, then captured by HYDRA and used as a test subject-"