Armor (Winter Soldier)

[2]

Let's be honest when it comes to Sam's speed: it's not of much use when it's necessary.

After stumbling over a few things, Sam found herself headed back towards the living room, but the Winter Soldier was no where to be seen.

The same panic overtook her completely when she realized he stood behind her.

If it had been someone else, she would have already started a fight.
But it was him.

"Who are you?" His hyptonic voice clouded her mind. All evidence of threat was evident in it.

Her ability to speak forceful. "Sam. I've told you already."

He thought over this. "Who are you working for?"

"A museum. Now, does anything else hurt?" She answered and asked a question of her own.

He just stares at her in amusement and confusion. Why was she being so helpful? Certainly this was a prank of some sort. Some test. He didn't know if he was ready to speak, but he tried anyway.

"Why?", he inquired softly.

"Why what?", she asked, inching a little closer to him. His eyes were a deep, deep shade of blue. Right now, they didn't seem peaceful, they seemed like an ocean at storm.

"Helping me?", his gaze looked towards the ground.

Sam took in a shaky breath and fixed her eyes on her hands.

" Because...", she tried to find the correct words and not frighten him. "Because you need it. The help."

What she meant to say was that she knew about him. She worked at the local World War II exhibit and currently she wanted to prove that James Buchanan Barnes was the Winter Soldier.

He didn't know why he kept the silence. He had millions of questions as to who he was and what had become of him.

Who the man at the river was.

He stiffened at his own thought.

Having nothing else to say, Sam just took on the idea to ask him a couple of more questions, regarding his stay.

"Do you want to sleep? Looks like you haven't done that in long time.", she pointed out by looking at the bags under his eyes.

He kept that stare that bothered her so much. It made her uncomfortable.

She cleared her throat and started offering a few options while picking the medical stuff up.

It seemed like she was talking to herself, because he kept staring at her, intently.

She can't be an ex-agent of both fallen organizations, he thought. She looked and acted way too peculiar. Not so much the looks , though.

After a few moments of her talking to herself, the Soldier decided to speak, before she could go anywhere out of his sight, "Am I intruding your household?"

Sam stopped for a brief second and turned to look at him.

"No.", was the simple answer she gave out. "I quite actually enjoy your company, you know." She smiled trying to start a conversation before she could go rest.

"What do you mean?", he asked, shifting a little in the table's seat.

"I don't have much friends.", her voice echoed off as she went inside her room.

Deciding to pay no attention to her rambling, he tried so hard to remember why he had saved the man.

Goosebumps dotted his skin at the thought of being back in that river.

He could see flashes. Colors and quick images. Distorted sounds that resonated in his empty mind.

Still.

Nothing came to remembrance.

"Do you have anywhere to...stay?, she wondered aloud when she came back into the living room, where the Soldier sat at the couch.
Sam was surprised that he managed to move securely while she was gone.

He shakes his head, embarrassed that he has to ask for a room of some sort.

"Don't worry. You can take the bed," she offered. "I'll take the couch." Smiling, she gestured towards where he was.

He slowly stood up, not wanting to disappoint this woman.

"Come on," she insisted. "Its over there." she pointed at the door in the end of the small hall.

He raised an eyebrow at her when he gripped the doorknob, making sure it was the correct door.

She nodded, then realized something. "Wait." He quickly turned around, afraid that he did something wrong. "Just do me a favor. Two actually," she started.

He relaxed just at her explanation. "One: stop being so nervous. Two: sorry if this you not like, but...", Sam prepared herself for what was to come.

"Can you tell me your name?" Of course, she knew, but she wanted him to say it.

He closed his eyes and thought of what the man had called him at the fall of the triskellion a few days ago.

Your name is James, Buchanan Barnes.....you're my friend...

He still didn't know why he saved him from drowning.

But that name that he called him was...

James.

He didn't think twice before responding, "James."

Sam just tried to smile, putting less tension into things.

"Alright, James. Night", she said, waving and slowly stepping out of the small corridor.

Sam swore her heart leaped when she saw him grin and close the door.

The room was dark.

James preferred it that way, because it helped him concentrate with what was missing in his long, lost memory.

Besides being a little curious about what the bed might feel like, he felt alone.

Worthless.

Like someone who didn't have a meaning in life.

A killer with no heart.

Maybe he should not stay here....it is of very bad manner just to barge into someone's home, steal their sleeping place and not pay them for anything that they did.

That felt terrible.

This he thought while his eyelids went heavy with sleep and he himself didn't even know how tired he was.