"Sometimes we can't see why normal isn't normal."

Dr. Gregory House from "House M.D."

They lived on the run after the hit Europe; but Ophelia did not see it as such. It felt like more of an adventure than fleeing, mostly because she had never seen any of the things she was beginning to understand. Only when Ophelia began to suffer withdrawal symptoms of Rapture did Bucky find them a place, settling deep in Romania where no one would be looking for them. Their place was by all means nothing spectacular, but just like the motel had, it became home. Bucky was facing his own demons, battling his own memories as they continued to floor him with grief and regret, remorse. And still he didn't hesitate to help Ophelia get through her withdrawal; she hadn't had Rapture in over a month, and it was only beginning to take hold of her body.

Being free from HYDRA meant nothing when they still had their filthy claws still hooked into her flesh. Upon the bare mattress on the floor, Ophelia writhed in pain; her stomach felt as though it was turning inside out, and she could feel every ounce of pain inside of her body. Her wounds were healed, but there was a different kind of pain. Her entire body ached, pain lurched through her anytime she brushed against anything. But she knew that she had to get through it; it was not the withdrawal that would kill her, it would be the desperation to get another dose. Nothing would make her crawl back to the depths of the world in search for more of Rapture, not even as she threw up everything inside of her.

Days went by, Ophelia looking worse and worse, and Bucky sitting there powerless. There was nothing he could do for her aside from bring her water that she would simply throw up, and dab at her forehead with a wet cloth.

Day by day, Bucky did odd jobs for money, worrying that she would be dead when he came home in the evening. And yet she would prevail, as the more time went by, Bucky started to see improvement. One afternoon he came home early, the clouds darkened the sky but it was only midday. Ophelia was on her feet, mug in her hands. Her eyes were dark, sunken in and reminding him of what she looked like when he had first met her.

Those early days of knowing her, they had kept him fighting. He walked into their small apartment and studied the woman. Slowly he had begun to understand himself, grasp what he had been and what he was.

It was because of her that he wasn't still the Winter Soldier, and it didn't matter what she went through, he would always stick with her through thick and thin. She had followed him to the ends of the world, giving up normalcy because she loved him, and while he was only beginning to grasp why she loved him, he knew that what he felt for her might be exactly what he thought it was.