4 months later

I pumped my legs harder as the treadmill spun faster beneath my feet. I focused on a speck of dust on the window in front of me, and tuned out the rest of the gym. Steve was at the bag and Tony was doing weights. After the episode at Tony's party, none of the Avengers really spoke to me again. I was no longer asked to the gala's, or the movie nights, or the group outings. I wasn't kicked out, but I was and outsider. If I went missing tomorrow, none of them would be short a smile. They'd probably all be secretly happy. I stopped letting their hatred bother me a month ago. Only Wanda's hurt. I don't know how, but one morning I went to the kitchen for breakfast, and when none of them spoke to me, or even nodded a 'good morning' my way, it just didn't hurt. I didn't even notice. I went on with my life, they went on with theirs. I still cry at night for my brother. I still blame myself, and I still hate myself for letting him die, even though I could have saved him, but my self-loathing was no longer fueled by the team's hatred towards me.

My watch beeped and I turned off the treadmill before grabbing my water bottle. I wanted to do some meditation before the team meeting- one that I was actually asked (or told) to attend. Fury must have called it. I walk to the yoga section of the room and sit down, cross legged. I closed my eyes and folded my hands in my lap. I pictured myself on the edge of a cliff, with waves sloshing beneath me. The salty breeze floated through my long hair. I was perfectly balanced. I was in complete control. Completely at peace. My hands lifted out to my sides, palms facing the sky, and I took a deep breath. Complete control. I tilted my head back, and took another deep breath.

"Time to go." Tony's voice snapped my out of my meditative state. I looked around the room and noticed Steve was gone- he must be involved with the meeting. I nodded and grabbed my water bottle. I headed to my room for a quick shower and change of clothes before heading to the conference room. Everyone else was seated when I got there, so I took my seat without a word. None of them even looked at me. A few moments later, and Fury walked in the room, followed by a man. He had shoulder-length dark brown hair, a square jaw, and high cheekbones. My eyes trailed down his body, examining him. He stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, with his left foot slightly more forward. His dark blue eyes shifted around the room slowly, the way someone looks at a test, and realizes they came very unprepared. His shoulders tensed as he looked at Natasha, like he was ready to spring into action and fight at any given moment. Fury cleared his throat, commanding out attention back to him.

"James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky. Winter Soldier. Ex-assassin, Retired soldier, and new member of the Avenger's Initiative. Steve's old buddy, some of you have met him. If you people haven't figured it out, he's joining you. Stark, show him around, Romanoff, give him a run-down of the way things work here. Enjoy your evenings." I shook my head slightly. I didn't need to come to this. I got up and headed for the door, but a thin hand clasped my wrist before I could leave.

"Try not to kill this one, yes?" I stared into my sister's eyes. I chomped down on the skin inside me cheek to keep myself from crying. I blinked twice, and stared blankly at her. I pulled my wrist out of her grasp and went back to my room. It was a couple hours until I went and made myself dinner- I didn't eat dinner with the group- and I chose to pass time with a hot bath. I ran the tub, filling it up to a point where it would cover my knees, stripped down and climbed in. I didn't need bubbles, or bath bombs, just hot water. Dinner for the group came and went, and I got out. After drying off and dressing in sweatpants and a large shirt, I walked to the kitchen to make myself something to eat. I grabbed the leftovers out of the fridge and heated them in the microwave. I sat the kitchen island by myself and ate my share of dinner in the dim lighting, staring at a speck of black on the polished marble counters.

"Hello?" My head whipped around so fast it almost gave me whiplash. Bucky- the new member stood by the hallway, shoulders tense.

"Uhh, hi... I'll leave right away, sorry I'm just eating." I spoke quickly, my moth still full of food. He nodded slightly.

"How come you don't eat with everyone else?" He asked quietly. I raised an eyebrow. They hadn't told him? I decided I'd like to keep it that way.

"I'm just not exactly welcome."

"how come?" I paused.

"History with a member. Just um, please don't ask anyone about it, or me, in fact. Just um, just don't talk to me or about me. I've found a system that works for me and everyone else, just don't stir things up. Please." I added at the end to sound less bossy. He narrowed his eyes a little bit.

"Sounds like you have something to hide." I blinked hard.

"Not hiding anything. I made a mistake a few months ago. Another member hates me for it, and the team took that member's side without hesitation. I don't know why they never heard me out, but I'd like to let sleeping dogs lie, so please, let it go, and don't ask about it." I stood up and put my empty plate in the sink, then turned around to hear his response. We stared at each other in silence for what seemed like forever until he finally replied.

"Fine." I nodded and smiled thinly at him. A wave of fatigue hit me suddenly and I just wanted to sleep. I walked towards my bedroom but was stopped by a metal hand clamping around my bicep. "Can I trust you?" I looked into his eyes that shone blue somehow even in the dark.

"Soldier, I don't even trust myself," and with that, I pulled my arm from his grasp and locked myself in my room. I shut the blinds, brushed my teeth and curled up under the blankets. I closed my eyes and let the tears slip out. The anger at Wanda's words was released as I silently cursed myself through the tears as I relived Piet's death. I blink. Our eyes meet across the road. I blink again and I see in his face that he knows what he's going to do. I blink again and he's collapsing to the ground, filled with bullets. I close my eyes for the last time that night and pray Bucky doesn't ask about my history. I can't relive this over and over again. I can't.