Archive of Our Own

Insight is launching in 16 hours.

Sam is still on the bridge, he hopes.

Natasha’s down. Bleeding. Hurt.

There’s no time for this. He needs to get back to Sam, make sure Sam’s safe. He needs to get Natasha help. Somehow. Someone out there has to still be on their side.

There’s no time for this. He’s Captain America. He can’t lose. He can’t.

But this opponent…

He’s stronger than him.

Faster than him.

Has a metal arm.

They call him the Winter Soldier.

A ghost story. That’s what Nat called him. Now the ghost is after them. Pushing Cap back with every swing. Metal fist slamming into his shield so hard the vibrations hurt.

There’s no time for this. He’s Captain America. He can’t lose.

The Winter Soldier tosses him back with ease. Like he weighs nothing. Points a gun. Shoots. Cap kicks it away. Another gun. This one jams. And another. An endless supply of weapons he doesn’t really seem to need.

A punch barely makes him blink. A kick to his face does nothing. As if it’s just a minor inconvenience. He’s so strong. Why? How? How can he be so strong? It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t.

He snatches up Cap’s shield and shoves him back with it. Stands tall with it. Proud. He flings it at Cap when he charges again. It almost hits. The Winter Soldier pulls a knife. It twirls through his fingers as natural as water running over them.

The knife comes at Cap’s face. Dodged by a hairsbreadth. The Winter Soldier keeps advancing. Faster and faster. Stronger and stronger. He can’t keep up with the Winter Soldier. Too fast. He’s just too fast.

There’s no time for this. He’s Captain America.

One kick pushes the Winter Soldier back. Just a stumble over his feet before he’s right back in Cap’s face. Again. Flipping him over and slamming him into the ground. That metal arm comes at his face. Barely misses and cracks the ground instead.

Cap gets up. He can’t lose this. Too much at stake. He needs to try to keep up with the Winter Soldier. Hit back. Strike hard. Win. Win. He can’t lose. Get to the shield. Block the Winter Soldier's attacks. So hard. It’s so hard. Why is he so fast? So fast?

There’s no time for this.

A lucky shot. One. That’s all he needs. Right in the face with the shield. It rattles the Winter Soldier just enough to grab hold of him. This is it. His chance to stop the ghost story. Maybe the only one he’ll get.

Cap’s got him in his grip. Fast. He needs to do this fast. He needs all the strength he has just to fling the Winter Soldier over his shoulder.

The mask falls.

The Winter Soldier’s rolled right onto his feet. His back facing Cap. A breather. Just a second. The Winter Soldier lifts his head to crack his neck. He turns. Cap sees.

And the whole world crashes down. The air’s been punched from his lungs. His heart twists. No… It… It can’t… It can’t be…

“... Steve?”

Bucky almost takes a step forward. Almost goes to the man in front of him. Wearing Steve’s face. Stevie. His Stevie.

"Who the hell is Steve?"

The Winter Soldier takes aim. Bucky’s heart stops. It does. Stops and picks up double time. He’s going to shoot him. Steve. Steve is going to shoot him. Bucky throws his palms out. The only thing he can think to do.

"Steve, no!” he pleads. “Wait! It's me! It's Bucky!"

The Winter Soldier tilts his head. Finger curling around the trigger.

"Who the hell is Bucky?"

Bucky Barnes has lost Steve Rogers three times.

The world has bled over in pain. Again. All around him is nothing but snow and trees. Rocks. It’s so silent that it hurts. The pains in his arm are getting worse.

“Bucky? Buck… talk to me, baby. Stay awake.”

“M’tired, Stevie,” he whispers. “It hurts.”

“I know. Just stay with me, Bucky. I’m here.”

You shouldn’t be, Bucky thinks. Not Steve. Steve should still be on that train. Life taking him onward. This isn’t supposed to be the end of the line for him. Not yet.

Stubborn punk.

Instead he’s here. Lying in the snow. With Bucky because he ignored the creaking of all that metal. The rush of wind. The snap beneath them. And Steve fell with him.

Steve’s resting over Bucky’s chest -- just like old times -- staring up at the endless sky. And a part of Bucky’s… glad. He’s so selfish. He’s always been so fucking selfish. But that selfish part of him is so glad his hand is tucked in Steve’s. Damn him to hell.

He’s not alone right now. He has his Stevie. Hurt, even though he won’t admit it. Bucky knows. There’s blood all over Bucky and it’s not all his. Not even Captain America can survive so much blood loss. The way Steve’s arm is twisted back, Bucky can see bone sticking out of it. His body is probably trying to heal it and panicked because it can’t. Not the way they’re lying. Bucky should move him. Just to give him some comfort. He runs fingers through Steve’s hair. One last time. At least he can do this one last time.

“They’re coming, Bucky. Just a little while. I promise. They’ll come.”

Yes. They will. Not for Bucky. The world doesn’t come from him. Not for some second-rate sergeant who smokes too much, flirts with all the dames and loves his best friend in unnatural ways. No one will come for Bucky Barnes.

Captain America. They’ll come for him. The better of the two. Such a good man, his Stevie is. Everything everyone should try to be. They’ll come for him.

“Bucky, please… talk to me…”

Just resting my eyes, Stevie. That’s all.

It’s so cold. Steve can’t be this cold. He’ll get sick. Bucky needs to get him warm. His lungs. Steve’s. They can’t handle this. He’s going to die out here.

Bucky?

Steve can’t die. Not like this. Bucky’ll wrap him up in his arms. Keep him warm. Stevie needs to be warm. He’s too small to be so cold.

Even if it’s the last thing Bucky does. He’ll get Steve home. Back where it’s warm. So warm. They’ll eat hotdogs at Ebbets Field and Bucky’ll get ‘im to ride the Cyclone again. They’ll marry a couple’ve dames. Peggy’s so good for Stevie. So good.

Come on, Bucky!

They can grow old together. Together. Steve and Peggy. Till the end of the line. It’s them now. No more room for Bucky. S’okay. That’s alright. Stevie’ll go on. Not die… not now. He can’t.

He’ll be okay…

He’ll be…

He’ll…

Bucky opens his eyes. Slowly. Blinks them once to clear the haze. Confusion slips through his mind like an unexpected midnight fog. A warm breeze gently rolls in through the open window. Bucky can just make out the sounds of traffic.

This doesn’t… make sense.

The last thing he can remember is the cold. So much cold. Everything hurt. His heart the most.

Steve…

Now there’s a bed. Scratchy blanket and sheets underneath him. The pillow’s not much better.

Bucky sits up. His head spins. There’s even a dull throb in the back of it. Ignoring that, he sits at the edge of the mattress. The room he’s in… it’s familiar, but not right. Something’s off. Something…

The door opens and a woman steps in. Tall. Pretty. Soft brown hair and deep brown eyes. In uniform. She almost looks like Peggy.

“Good morning,” the woman greets as she shuts the door behind her. Soft smile on her face. She glances at the watch on her wrist. “Or should I say afternoon.”

There’s only one thing Bucky can think to say.

“Where am I?”

Her face is kind. Patient. That smile is still on her lips and she looks at Bucky as though she understands his confusion.

“You’re in a recovery room in New York City.”

Home. The relief that spreads through Bucky is so warm and comforting he never wants it to go away. Except that something’s still not right and it freezes in his veins.

The Dodgers take the lead! Oh boy, everyone’s on their feet. What a game we have here, folks. What a game…

The radio. Bucky glances back at it. The announcer giving a play-by-play of the Dodgers’ game. That’s it. That’s what’s wrong. He throws a glare in the woman’s direction.

“Where am I really?”

She shakes her head a little. Expression still patient and open, but now as though Bucky’s questions no longer make any sense.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“The game,” Bucky growls. “It’s from May 1941. I know cause I was there.”

With Steve. They snuck in. Bucky got ‘em both hot dogs.

That smiles falters and fades. Fear passes across her face. Bucky can see her posture stiffening. He lifts himself up off the bed.

“Now I’m gonna ask you again,” he says. Approaches her slowly. Caution in each step. “Where. The fuck. Am I?”

“Captain Barnes…”

“Who are you?!”

Two men walk into the room. Dressed in black and heavily armed. Hydra? Was Bucky captured? Is that what…

Bucky takes no chance and shoves them back. The shotty serum in him might not be the same that pumped through Steve’s body but it’s enough that the men crash through the wall. Leaves a hole just big enough for Bucky to slip through.

“Captain Barnes, wait!” the woman calls out as Bucky escapes into a strange hallway. Like nothing he’s ever seen before.

He bursts through the door ahead of him. The only way out. The woman’s voice echos through the halls.

“All agents, code 13.”

Bucky runs. People chase. He shoves through anyone who gets in his way and stumbles out the first door he can find.

He doesn’t know where he is. It’s a city. That much he can tell. There’re cars and people and noise. Bucky dashes down the street. He’s gotta get away. Someplace safe. Maybe he can contact Carter or Phillips or the Commandos. Maybe even Howard. Get himself help… get out of here.

When Bucky turns the corner he can’t run any further. The place smacks him in the face. Kicks him right in the gut. This place… it… he spins in a circle. Takes it all in. The bright lights. Flashing. Tall buildings that glitter in the sun. This is in New York City. Times Square. Only not Time Squares.

Cars pull up and block him. Men and women jump out and give him no room for escape. Not that way. Bucky can’t bring himself to run anyway.

“At ease, soldier!”

The command comes from behind Bucky. He peers over his shoulder before turning all the way around and facing the tall black man. Dressed in a leather trench coat. Eye patch over his eye. Now Bucky’s surrounded completely. Dozens of armed people and strange looking cars.

Just wake up. Wake up from this nightmare. That’s all Bucky has to do. He’ll wake up and everything will make sense again.

“Look, I’m sorry about that little show back there,” the man says. “But… we thought it best to break it to you slowly.”

Something horrible shoots through Bucky’s entire body. He’s not waking up. And he’s starting to feel as though he might never escape from this nightmare.

“Break what?” Bucky asks.

The man looks for words. The right ones. There’s a flicker of sympathy that’s crossed his face even if he’s able to maintain his strong outer front.

“You’ve been asleep, Cap. For almost seventy years.”

Cold washes over him. More cold. Inside. Everything around him fades. No noise. No light. There’s nothing. Gone. Everything is gone.

Peggy. The Commandos. Howard. Home.

Steve.

Lost. All lost.

While he was asleep. For seventy years.

Bucky opens his mouth. Maybe to… to argue, but there’s nothing to be said. No argument to be made.

All he can do is keep staring out at the city. At home and not home at all.

“You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I just…” The words just fall from Bucky’s mouth. He never does anything right, does he? Couldn’t keep any of his promises. He’s never been that good of a man. But he’d hope that maybe he could do just this one thing. For Steve. “I had a date.”

When the helicarriers go up, Captain America knows the Winter Soldier will be there.

“Please don’t do this, Steve.”

They fight. By some chance of a miracle, Bucky manages to change the chip in the control panels. He takes four bullets in the process. Project Insight fails.

“You know me, Steve. Stevie, you’ve known me your whole life.”

They fight. Bucky throws his hardest punches. Holds nothing back. He can’t lose Steve again. He can’t. Not when he’s right in front of him.

“Your name… is Steven Grant Rogers. You can fight this, Steve. The Steve I know would never give in. Never.”

They fight. Bucky goes down with a busted face, broken ribs, shattered bones. The Winter Soldier hovers over him. Gun in hand.

“Go ahead. I’m still with ya till the end of the line.”

The Winter Soldier takes aim. Debris falls right before he pulls the trigger. The last thing Bucky sees before crashing through the dark and murky water is Steve watching him fall.

The world is obscured by darkness. There’s no real sound as water clogs his ears. It’s up his nose and down his throat and the whole universe spins around him in dizzying circles. Bucky’s eyes close just before he sees a shimmer of light above him.

“Sergeant. Three-two-five-five-seven…”

Bucky! Oh my god…

Voice of a fucking angel, his Stevie has. Bucky can dream of it for hours and hours and hours. Away from here.

Something tugs at his restraints. He wants to scream. Beg them to stop. No more. Please no more.

But the straps loosen around him. The hands that touch him now are soft and gentle. That voice is talking again. Steve’s voice. Is he dead? Has the Doctor finally finished him off?

“Bucky…”

“Is… is that…?”

It can’t be. Steve isn’t anywhere near this horrible place. He’s at home, safe. Still probably lyin’ at every recruitment center he can find.

“It’s me. It’s Steve.”

Bucky lets his head move to the side. It’s all he can manage and it’s enough. He stares into the most beautiful blue eyes he’s ever known. The face looking down at him is so lovely. The one bit of peace he’s felt since being dragged in here. Body pumped full of poisons that set fire to his veins.

“Steve,” he croaks.

A smile cracks on his lips. Bucky just can’t help it. Oh but if this is a dream, please don’t ever let him wake.

“Come on,” his angel says.

“Steve…”

Steve lifts him up, helps him off the table. Bucky’s wobbly on his feet. He’s been on that godforsaken table for so long he barely remembers how to use them. Can hardly feel them. He’s still smiling though. Steve is…

Here?

Bucky doesn’t understand what he’s looking at.

Steve? This can’t be Steve. Only it is Steve. Bucky could never forget those eyes. And those are Steve’s eyes.

Steve steadies him, touches his face as though he can’t believe Bucky’s real.

“I thought you were dead,” Steve says.

“I thought you were smaller.”

He was, wasn’t he? Yes. His Stevie was so small he could curve into Bucky’s body and disappear.

This Steve takes a look around the room, though Bucky’s unable to take his eyes off of him. He just keeps his hand on Steve’s chest, afraid he’ll disappear on him again. Like so many times when the Doctor shoved bolts of electricity through his muscles and bones.

There’s an explosion from somewhere far away. Steve tosses Bucky’s arm over his shoulder and makes for the door.

“Let’s go,” he instructs.

“What happened to you?” Bucky asks as Steve drags him out.

“I joined the army.”

Something about a procedure. A scientist. Bucky can’t really understand Steve’s rush of an explanation as they try to get out of this hellhole.

“Did it hurt?”

They’ve separated. It’ll be easier to get out that way, but Bucky wants to be back against Steve. Feel him close.

“A little.”

That little -- or not so little anymore -- punk. Shitty liar is what he is. A little? Pfft. Right.

“Is it permanent?”

“So far.”

This building is coming down around them. There’s fire everywhere and that fucking Doctor has pulled the bridge back. The Doctor. Who stares at Bucky like he’s hungry and has so much more in store for him. Bucky’s stomach twists.

The man Steve’s talking to, fighting with, he’s pulling off a mask. Under it… what?

Steve said it was an experiment. That man… The things the Doctor did to him…

“You don’t have one of those, do you?” Bucky asks as the man flings the mask into the flames. Just a red skull that glares back at them.

“Come on.” Steve pulls Bucky away when the Doctor and the Red Skulled Man make their escape.

Bucky follows Steve up so many stairs. His legs are shaky. He’s so hungry and tired, but Steve’s here. Bucky can do it. He can. Steve’s here.

There’s a beam. That’s their only hope, and Steve helps Bucky over the ledge. Tells him to take it easy. Be careful. Bucky would say something snappy if he wasn’t so fucking terrified as he eases his way over a fiery pit. Flames reaching up and trying to snatch hold of him.

Another explosion and the metal support under him plummet just as Bucky leaps for the ledge. He gets over safely but Steve’s still on the other side. No. No, no, no.

“There’s gotta be a rope or something!” Bucky yells.

There has to be some way for Steve to cross. He didn’t come all this way just to die here.

“Just go!” Steve hollers. “Get outta here!”

“No not without you!”

Never. If Bucky’s turned to ash here, so be it, but there’s no way he’s leaving Steve behind.

Heart sinking to the floor, he watches helplessly as Steve bends the metal railing away from him. He’s going to try to jump. If he doesn’t make it… it just means Bucky was always meant to die here. Because he won’t leave.

Not without Steve.

The bar’s been reduced to ashes and rubble. Broken remains of what used to be. What was and will never be again.

An open bottle of liquor sits on the battered table in front of him and Bucky’s quickly working his way through it. Not that it matters. The damn stuff’s not doing what it’s supposed to.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Bucky was meant to go first. He was always ready to go first. Not Steve.

Bucky gulps more of his drink. Some of it spills out of the corners of his mouth, but he doesn’t care. He chugs it. Maybe if it gets in him fast enough he can get a little drunk. Wishful thinking. The reason he’s survived that fall is the very reason he can’t get drunk. The serum. Running through his veins and just ruining everything.

The only reason he survived, is what the doctors and scientists and Howard tells him. Whatever Zola did to him, it made his body stronger, more resilient. The only reason he didn’t lose his arm. S’not as good as Steve’s, but then, Bucky’s never been as good as Steve. They say it’s a miracle. Another marvel of science. Bucky knows what it really is. A curse.

Because what kind of miracle leaves him alive and Steve dead? None. That sort of miracle doesn’t exist.

Bucky can recall whispers of voices around him before he woke up in a hospital bed. Of Steve saying his name before opening his eyes and seeing Peggy. The first thing he saw was her face. Her eyes red and her cheeks tear-stained. He couldn’t figure out why she’d be crying. Certainly not for joy that Bucky woke. No one would shed tears for that.

It never even occurred to Bucky that her tears were for Steve.

“Best we can figure,” Philips said. “Is that Captain Rogers took off in search of help.”

And didn’t make it.

Those dreaded words were left unsaid, but Bucky understood them. There was a river not far from where they found Bucky. What bit of blood wasn’t covered by the snowfall that started falling was headed in that direction. The river got Steve. The river got Steve, and Bucky is left with nothing but the empty hole that’s now inside of him.

There’s a noise behind him. Just the sound of gravel under a pair of shoes, but Bucky can still hear it clearly and takes a glimpse over his shoulder. Peggy.

No doubt one of the Commandos told her where to find him. Bucky doesn’t bother trying to wipe his face clear of the tears there. He’s sure Peggy’s shed plenty of her own anyway.

“Are you here to talk me into it?” Bucky mumbles into the bottle. “Tell me the world is counting on me?”

Peggy doesn’t say anything until she sits down in the seat across from him. She reaches for the bottle and Bucky assumes she’s taking it away from him. Until she takes a swig of it herself. Tears rush to her eyes as she puts the bottle back down on the table, sliding it back over to Bucky.

“I’m here to join you, Sergeant,” she says wryly. “The rest can wait.”

For several minutes, the bottle gets passed between them. It makes a horrible sound as the bottom scratches across the burned tabletop. Like the bottle feels the need to remind Bucky why they’re there. Each time.

The guilt is unbelievable. Steve’s girl. All alone because Bucky failed. He was supposed to take care of Steve. Always. Now Steve’s dead. And all Bucky has to show for it is a half-empty bottle Scotch he’s sharing with Peggy Carter.

“You didn’t get your dance.” Bucky sniffles. “I’m so sorry, Peggy. I should’ve… should’ve…”

“Should have what, Bucky?” she questions. Wipes just under her eyes though Bucky’s not seen one shed tear yet. “What would you have done differently?”

“I shouldn’t have let him…”

“Let him?” Peggy interrupts. Even chuckles darkly before taking another drink. “Sergeant Barnes, you knew Steve Rogers a lot longer than I did so I’m sure you know much better than me that there was nothing you could have done to stop Steve from going out there for you.”

Just because she’s right doesn’t make it hurt any less. None of this is easier. Not losing Steve. Not the war they should have never even been in. Not what’s been asked of Bucky.

“Colonel Phillips wants me to…” Bucky’s breath catches. He needs to take in a few gulps of air before speaking again. “He wants me to… to take…” It’s not right. It’s just not right. “Take Steve’s shield. He wants me to be Captain America.”

The idea is ridiculous. Steve is Captain America. A good man no matter how you slice it. That’s not Bucky. Bucky was always meant to protect Steve. And he failed.

“I don’t think you should do anything you’re not comfortable with,” Peggy tells him softly. “By all rights you have every reason to go home. Live your life away from what’s left of this war. But…” Of course, there’s a but. “If someone is to take over for the Captain, I believe you’re the most qualified. Because I think it’s what Steve would have wanted.”

The thought hurts so much. No one should touch the shield. That belongs to Steve and Steve alone. And now they’re asking Bucky to take it and do the work that Steve was born to do. What he could do even before being Captain America if only someone would’ve given him the chance.

“You saw Steve, Peg,” Bucky mutters. “You saw him. Not Captain America. You gotta know that’s not me. I ain’t good enough to fill Steve’s shoes.”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” she practically growls. “Steve Rogers broke direct orders and would have walked to Austria on the mere sliver of hope that you were still alive. He damn well thought you were worth it. Now…” Peggy gives him a tight smile. “I don’t know how you see yourself, but Steve thought saw a great deal in you. And so do I.”

Fresh tears fall from Bucky’s eyes. He doesn’t know how to be Captain America, but he’s sure of one thing. Steve wouldn’t walk away with this war still going on. He’d see it through till the end. No matter what that meant.

“I’m not going to rest until Hydra pays,” he snarls and brings the bottle to his lips one last time. Finishes the rest of it and slams it down on the table. “They’re going to pay for what they did to Steve.”

The shield sits on Steve’s chair at the head of the table. There’re still maps and decoded messages and detailed blueprints scattered all across the tabletop. Pinned up on the walls and even discarded on the floor. Signs of life where Bucky only feels death.

His fingers touch Steve’s shield. It’s cold. Like death itself. The uniform Howard’s made for Bucky is light and comfortable. It conforms to his body like a work of art. The stars and stripes. Red, white, and blue. The burden it brings is heavy. Bucky could feel it the moment he slipped it on. Maybe now sees just how the world felt to Steve. Just one more piece to make it complete. Make it official.

“You’re a fool, Steve. A goddamn punk, you know that?” Bucky murmurs to the empty room. To the shield. To the God he doesn’t believe in, but hopes Steve is with. “I hope I make you proud, Stevie.” He takes in a deep breath and lifts the shield. “I love you.”

They’re going after the Red Skull and what remains of Hydra. In just a few hours. Without Steve. But with Captain America just the same.

The second time Bucky Barnes lost Steve Rogers, he was sure he’d never get him back again.

“Were you in love with your Steve Rogers, Captain Barnes?”

His voice is cold. So chilling. Bucky spent seventy years on ice, but nothing can prepare him for the cold that crawls up his spine at the sound of that voice.

Bucky swallows the hard lump in his throat. Like the sharp edge of a blade that falls to the very pit of his stomach.

“I loved Steve,” he answers. “Yes. I… loved him.”

There’s no strength to his voice. He can’t muster up the proper volume to even pretend some sort of feeling of aloofness.

The Winter Soldier smiles from within his plate glass cell surrounded by thick concrete walls. In the basement levels of the tower buried way underground. Glass meant to keep back the Hulk. A precaution Banner insisted on having. There’s a bed in it now. A toilet as well. Both screwed into the ground.

That smile does nothing but send another chill through Bucky’s entire body. It doesn’t reach his eyes. Doesn’t brighten his face. In fact, it’s cruel. And he does it on purpose.

Steve, seated just at the corner of the bed, leans forward. His eyes bear right into Bucky’s soul. Finding weakness instead of strength, flaws instead of anything good, misery instead of happiness.

“Do you want to know what they did to your Steve Rogers, Captain?” Steve asks. That cold smirk still on his lips. “Would you like me to tell you?”

It’s a trick. A trap. For what, Bucky’s not sure. A mind game perhaps. Bucky should say no. He doesn’t want to hear a word the Winter Soldier has to say. It’ll be all lies. Unless the truth is worse than a lie.

Bucky looks back at the man behind the glass. The Winter Soldier in Steve’s body. Just the sight of him hurts. All wrong. It’s all wrong.

“Yes,” Bucky whispers.

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t indulge him. All sources say not to engage in conversations. The Winter Soldier can spin gold from yarn. Spit out lies and half-truths and blanket the path to hell in rose petals.

But Bucky whispers, “Tell me.”

The Winter Soldier lifts his chin. He curls his fingers at Bucky. Beckoning Bucky to join him in his lonely cell.

“Come in with me, Captain America,” he taunts. “And I’ll regale you the tale of what happened to your precious Steve Rogers.”

This isn’t a good idea. Not at all. Then again, Bucky can’t exactly claim that all his ideas have been on the side of smart during his too-long lifetime. In fact, this is something he knows. Something he’s familiar with. Between him and Steve, Bucky’s not sure who got them into more trouble back in the day.

Bucky glances over his shoulder. There’s no one there, but they’re watching. His eyes flick up to the security cameras. He can move now before someone comes in to knock some sense into him. This is the first time since Steve’s been brought in that he wants Bucky near. For his own purposes, Bucky’s sure, but Bucky… oh hell, Bucky just wants to be near him.

He gets up out of the chair and Steve already knows he’s getting what he wants. It’s written all over the sneer that turns his mouth up.

The Winter Soldier watches Bucky like a hawk the entire time he makes his way into the cell. Door sealing shut behind him, Bucky just leans against it and goes no further.

Steve stretches his left arm to him. The light reflects harshly off the metal. Plates folding over each other and making a swooshing noise when Steve extends it. Fingers fanned out as though he means for Bucky to take his hand. Bucky only stares at it.

“Come closer,” Steve says. Sweet and so soft. As though he can’t imagine why Bucky’s stayed so far away. And it almost sounds like Steve. And that hurts. It hurts so much. “Don’t you miss your friend, Captain Barnes?”

Tears threaten to fill his eyes. Bucky forces them back down and can feel the glands in his throat getting tighter. He can’t show the Winter Soldier his tears. He can’t show Steve his emotions. Any of them.

But if this is going to go somewhere, Bucky needs to follow Steve’s rules. Not try to start his own. He already started playing by coming in here in the first place. Next move is him reaching out for Steve’s metal hand. His own hand gives an embarrassing tremble just before Steve laces their fingers and guides him closer. Seats Bucky on the edge of the bed just a few inches from him.

Game on.

“They dragged him off, you know,” Steve tells him. Tone soft and gentle like he’s reading a bedtime story. “They didn’t know who to take. You or your friend. You were a prize for the good doctor, did you know that?”

Stomach turning, Bucky needs to hold his breath so that breakfast doesn’t come back up on him. Dr. Zola.

“I was?” he whispers.

“Oh yes,” Steve coos. “After all the work he’d done on you? How could you not have been. But then they came across something better.” His eyes narrow and his voice drops. “Steve Rogers. Captain America. Who wouldn’t take Captain America over his little sidekick?”

No one. No one would pick Bucky over Steve. And no one had. Bucky was their consolation prize. The world’s silver medal.

“What happened to you?” Bucky asks.

“Oh they just… dragged his body along for miles. Through the snow and ice and dirt. The sleeve of his uniform caught once. They tugged. And tugged until his sleeve ripped.” Steve licks his lips. “His arm almost came off. The skin ripped, the bone cracked.” His voice lowers to a whisper. “And your friend screamed.”

There’s a pause there as that last bit lingers in the air. Seeps into Bucky’s bones and becomes part of him. Steve isn’t finished yet. He has more to say and he leans in close to whisper it in Bucky’s ear.

“He screamed for you, Captain. He screamed and screamed and it was always for you. When they ripped the bottom half of his arm off, he screamed for you. The drugs didn’t work. His body burned it off too quickly so he felt the saw when it sliced the rest of it off.” Steve’s teeth clench as he goes on murmuring in Bucky’s ear. Intensity rising. “He screamed, Captain Barnes. Screamed for you. Begged you to come for him like he came for you. But you never did, did you?”

When Bucky’s breath hitches, Steve grabs his other hand and locks them in that position. His lips never leave Bucky’s ear and Bucky can’t pull away.

“I told you the drugs didn’t work. He was awake when the electricity burned through him. He was awake when they strapped him down and pumped fire into his blood. He was awake when they seared metal into flesh and bone.” The metal hand tightens around Bucky’s. “He was awake… when they cut into him.” That’s when the first tears fall. Bucky can’t hold them back anymore. “Cracked his skull, Captain. They cracked into his skull to pull out pieces of his brain. Scrambled them about and put them back. Like their…” Steve chuckles darkly when Bucky whimpers. “Their own little puzzle. You say you love him, Captain Barnes, but where were you when his screams echoed through the night…”

“Please stop…”

“… what were you doing when he sobbed out for his mother when you didn’t come…”

“Steve…”

“… did you feel the power his uniform gave you? Did you forget about him all for that power?”

“No… no… I… I didn’t know…”

“He cried, Captain Barnes. Cried until he had no tears left. Screamed until he had nothing left. And still you didn’t come.”

Bucky’s sobbing now. Trembling so hard the metal of the bed frame squeaks under him. Every breath he takes hurts to pull in.

“I thought…” Bucky gasps and hiccups. He can’t wipe at his face since his wrists are still shackled in Steve’s hands. “Thought… I thought you… were dead, Steve. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

“Sh, sh.” Steve frees one of Bucky’s hand so he can coax Bucky’s head down onto his shoulder. He pets Bucky’s hair like he means to soothe him. The touch is wrong though. Not Steve’s. It’s gentle, sure, but mean. Taunting. “Your friend is dead, Captain Barnes. Because you didn’t save him.”

Hand gripping tightly into the cotton shirt they’ve dressed Steve in, Bucky clings to him. His face is buried in Steve’s shoulder as he continues to bawl. All of Steve’s words, razor-sharp and jagged, have sliced into him. Cut through to the very marrow of his bones.

“There, there,” Steve goes on mock-comforting. “Do you seek solace, Captain? Forgiveness for your sins?”

“M’sorry… Steve, please… I’m sorry…” Bucky weeps. “I…”

“Do you think Steve Rogers would forgive you? Do you think he should forgive you?”

Steve’s voice has dried. Whatever compassion he’s been faking is gone now, leaving nothing but a hardened sound scraping against stone.

“Please come back, Steve,” he whispers. “Don’t leave me.”

“Did you love him, Captain? Did you love Steve Rogers?”

“Yes,” Bucky squeaks. “He was my best friend.”

“But did you love him?” Steve presses. And Bucky’s breath stops. He lifts his head and finds himself staring into a pair of cold eyes. The same color as Steve’s, but nothing like Steve’s. Hard and lifeless. Cruel and vicious. Eyes that take joy in showing no mercy, no pity. “Tell me, Captain. Did. You. Love. Him?”

They’re watching. The rest of the Avengers. No doubt they’re right outside the door and have been since Bucky made the absurd decision to come in here. Security cameras are rolling and recording. Whatever answer Bucky gives will be displayed for everyone to see. Steve knows this. Steve wants this. And he takes pleasure in watching Bucky succumb to his inner fears.

“Yes,” he admits. “I love you.”

It hurts to say to him. To the man who looks like Steve and isn’t. Even more so when the Winter Soldier narrows his eyes and sneers at Bucky’s confession.

“You say you loved him,” he taunts. “But how could you have? When you left him there to rot?”

Bucky realizes too late that Steve’s metal hand has lifted. It snatches him by the throat and Steve is suddenly slamming him back against the wall. He lets loose a maniacal laugh, tossing his head back and then glaring right into Bucky’s eyes as he squeezes the breath right out of him.

“I can just be lying, you know,” he taunts. “About everything.” It hurts. The pounding in Bucky’s head. All he can do his grab hold of the wrist in front of him. “Maybe he slept through it all. Maybe he died without ever knowing a difference.” The room is spinning around him. Darkness creeping in. “You should ask your little кокетка about the Red Room.” The door is opening. A rush of people around them. “You failed him, Captain.”

Someone says the word from the Winter Soldier’s files. The trigger word. Sputnik. And both Bucky and Steve crumple to the floor.

The walk is far and hard and gruelling. But Steve is here. Different in so many ways that Bucky can barely even keep up. But there’s his health. If anything, that’s what’s most important. Stevie is healthy. His body can do all the things his spirit has always wanted. Bucky doesn’t know exactly know how he feels about Steve’s choice to do this other than it was Steve’s choice. That’s something Bucky will respect. Always has.

Besides, all these men are now alive because of Steve. Steve, who’s handing himself over to his commanding officer for disobeying orders.

“That won’t be necessary,” the officer assures him after taking a quick glance at all the lives thought lost.

“Some of these men are in need of medical attention,” Steve tells him.

Steve takes a quick glimpse at Bucky when he says that. It’s fast, just a blink of a look, but Bucky notices. That’s not what Bucky wants. Eventually, sure. He guesses it’ll be necessary. But right now he just wants to sleep. Just wants to curl up against Steve and sleep.

There’s a pretty dame talking to Steve. Must be the Peggy that Steve talked about. The reason he wouldn’t kiss him more than once when they had a few stolen minutes to themselves between here and Austria. Just another thing Bucky’d rather not think about right now. He can’t. Too many other things clogging up his mind.

“Hey!” He shouts it out to grab everyone’s attention. Needs to focus on something normal. Even if just for a few seconds. “Let’s hear it for Captain America!”

The crowd breaks out in thunderous applause and righteous cheers. True to form, Steve is embarrassed. Despite the humbled and gracious smile he gives, Steve is embarrassed and he gives Bucky a look. To which Bucky just gives him his best shitty grin because that’s the Steve he knows and this is the Bucky Steve knows and nothing’s going to… except it has changed.

Bucky’s clapping along with everyone else. They’re all clapping for Captain America. For this huge, muscular man that crossed enemy lines and rescued them. This is the man that they wouldn’t share a passing glance with. Looked down on for his small size and sickly body.

They’re all clapping for Captain America. The one in front of them. Bucky is clapping for Steve. Because he loves Steve Rogers and always has. The very depth of his heart beats for Steve, the essence of his soul is made for Steve, and Bucky doesn’t know where Steve has gone. Or if he’s ever coming back.

Voices echo through all around him. Off the rocks to be soaked into the snow underneath him. Bucky can’t… he can’t understand them. Their words are so jumbled up in his sleepy and dreamy mind that none of them make sense.

The weight that’s been pressing down on his chest is lifted off of him. It’s a relief really. Bucky can breathe easier now. But it’s also so wrong. That’s where Stevie belongs. That’s how they sleep when they’re cold. Steve cuddled up close to him. Curled in to hold as much heat as his tiny body can keep as possible.

“Bucky!” Steve cries. It’s okay, Stevie. In a minute. I’ll get up in a minute. “Bucky!”

Bucky groans. His eyes scrunch as he tries to open them since Steve must really want him to wake up. Probably cause it’s so damn cold. Did they leave a window open? Why is it…

Actually, it’s so much warmer now. Bucky hasn’t opened his eyes, but he can feel sleep finally leaving him. Lifting off his body like flecks of dust during springtime cleaning. He smiles. Steve must have tucked him in last night. Wrapped a blanket around him when he was shivering in his sleep.

Punk must’ve gotten up to get breakfast ready. Is it his turn? Bucky can’t remember. All he knows is that Stevie’s not in bed with him where he usually is during cold winter nights. Right where Bucky wants him to stay forever.

When Bucky finally gets his eyes open he finds himself in a hospital. The drip, drip, drip of the intravenous slipping into his body. Peggy, crying, on one side of him. An empty bed on the other.

The Winter Soldier’s food contains sedatives now. It’s the only way to ensure the safety of anyone who goes in there. Except for Tasha. She can come and go as she pleases. Has never been given cause to worry. Steve’s малютка. His little one.

That was her word. The trigger in her. Steve’s eyes glistened the second she stepped into the cell with him the first time. He smiled and uttered it. Tasha gasped and grabbed her head. When she looked back at him, there were tears in her eyes. The one and only time Bucky’s ever seen her like that.

Those tears swelled and she grinned through them. Stepped forward and into the arm extended for her.

“моя возлюбленный,” she’d whispered as Steve’s arm folded around her.

The Black Widow is a liar. Trained in areas of manipulation and deceit. Traits perfectly executed at the drop of hat and without batting an eye unless it’s called for. Natasha Romanoff, as far as Bucky is concerned, keeps from lying to him. She didn’t know Steve. Didn’t know the Winter Soldier. Not before Steve uttered that word.

The Red Room. Where Tasha had been trained. Apparently by the Winter Soldier. Things Tasha hadn’t remembered thanks to the tinkering in her brain done by the KGB. She remembers him now. Steve. The Black Widow and the Winter Soldier.

“Are you jealous, Cap?” Sam asks while they watch the monitors as Tasha runs fingers through Steve’s hair.

It hurts to watch. To see those strands of hair slip through those fingers. It hurts and it’s wrong. So wrong. Bucky wants to cry and yet he can’t keep from staring at it. Watching it go on and on. Tasha running fingers through Steve’s hair.

Sam comes up from behind him and kisses the top of his head. There’s not really a word to call whatever it is they are. It’s not love. Love is for children, Tasha says. If Bucky was going to let himself love anyone, it would be Sam. Sam, who understands the pain of loss. The only one Bucky knows with any sort of shared life experience. They’ve spent hours together, Bucky and Sam, talking about the best friends they lost as they become best friends themselves and something else.

“He doesn’t know me,” Bucky whispers. “He’s my best friend. And he doesn’t know me.”

“Do you really think that’s your best friend?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky answers. “He’s in there, Sam. I know he is.”

Sam’s arms wrap around him. Lips at the side of Bucky’s neck, he kisses.

“The man you knew is gone, Buck,” he says. “Whoever he used to be…”

“He’s Steve Rogers,” he growls. Red flashing. Anger rising. He’s so tired. “Don’t you see that, Sam?” Bucky jabs the tip of his finger at the screen on the table. The window that shows Steve’s head cradled in Tasha’s lap. Fingers running through his hair. “That’s Steve Rogers! That right there? He’s Captain America! Not me! Him! He’s always been Captain America. Why can’t anyone see that?”

Sam’s straightened up. Face hard and angry. He shakes his head like he’s about to just forgo this conversation -- the one they’ve had over and over since they brought Steve in -- but instead he goes back at Bucky.

“Because you’re Captain America, Bucky!” he shouts. “You’re our Captain America! Not that man. The Steve Rogers in your head is not the man in that cell. He’s gone, Bucky! And there’s a good chance he’s not coming back.”

He’s angry with him. Bucky can’t blame Sam. If it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t even be in this mess. He’d never have gotten involved in some government conspiracy. Wouldn’t have lost his wings and have to depend on this mysterious foreign prince to fix them for him. Maybe he could have made a better connection with someone more willing to open up instead of traipsing around the world looking for the man who tried to kill them all. Based on a glimmer of hope that the man Bucky once knew is still in there. They’ve had this conversation so many time. Sam has been so patient. So understanding. A shoulder to cry on through all of this. But there’s only so much one person can take. This is all Bucky’s fault.

Yet he still glowers at Sam and sneers, “Fuck you.”

Sam rolls his eyes. Tells Bucky to come find him when he’s calmed down a bit. Which Bucky does. After Steve’s fallen asleep and Tasha’s left the cell and her fingers aren’t anywhere near his hair. Bucky finds Sam in his bedroom.

“M’sorry, Sammy,” he whispers in the doorway. “I was a jackass.”

The book Sam’s reading is still in his lap. Sam shrugs before looking up and giving him a crooked grin. Forgiven, but maybe still on thin ice.

“Yeah, but I’m used to it,” Sam replies. He’s still frustrated. So is Bucky. “I’m sorry, too. If it was… if it was Riley…”

If it was Riley, Sam would be the one holding onto any shred of hope possible and Bucky’d be the one trying to talk sense into him.

“I’m scared, Bucky,” Sam continues. “You’re hurting and I… I don’t know what to do for you. And I… I get it. I want you to be right. I do, baby. I swear, I want Steve Rogers to be in there for you. It’s just… oh god, if he’s not and if that was Riley… if it was him and I couldn’t get to him… it would be… unbearable. I just… shit, Bucky, I don’t want to see you like that. Please, Bucky, please just consider the fact that he might… not…”

“I can’t, Sam,” Bucky murmurs. “I just can’t. Not until I know for sure.”

To that Sam just nods. He doesn’t agree with Bucky’s decision. He doesn’t disagree with Bucky’s decision. But he supports it.

Sam’s hands rub at Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky would tell him he doesn’t have to, but it feels nice. He’s asked to lay down and Sam keeps touching him. Bucky guides their lips together.

“It’s not your fault, Buck,” Sam whispers when they’re finished. “Whatever that man says to you, tries to… put in your head? It’s not your fault.”

But it is. It is Bucky’s fault. This wasn’t a fate meant for Steve. Steve was sunshine. Always. He wasn’t meant for ice and darkness.

Whatever they did to him twisted and warped the most decent man who ever graced the planet. Turned him into some sort of sophisticated monster.

The Winter Soldier is perfection. A highly effectively killing machine. A gun that never needs to be reloaded. Steel that never dulls. Forged from the heavenly stars and raised in the fires of hell.

All because Bucky didn’t save him.

Sweat drips down Bucky’s face. Beads of it that coat his skin and soak through his t-shirt and hand wraps. The gym is hot and stuffy. Bucky barely notices he’s even there. All he can feel is the war around him. Gunshots and snow. The commandos charging in one last time alongside him. Bright flashes of light from the Tesseract. Peggy’s voice over static. A promise he couldn’t keep.

Steve’s scream when they fell.

Steve’s voice when they landed.

Steve’s hair as it slipped through Bucky’s fingers.

Steve’s touch.

Steve’s laugh.

Steve’s smile.

Steve’s eyes.

Steve…

Steve…

Steve…

The punching bag shudders before falling off its hinges. Toppling to the ground and bringing Bucky back to the year 2011. Out of breath and a little sore, Bucky just stares back at it. At the sand trickling out of the small tear his fists have made in it. Hard as he tries, he can’t block it all out. This is where he is. Where he’s been for almost two weeks just… existing. Walking down streets he doesn’t know and riding trains to places that have changed so much in his absence. Everything is different. A new world has sprouted around the place he once knew. Bucky’s never going back home.

Files sit on the table of the place S.H.I.E.L.D has given him. Bucky’s gone through all of them except one. Dugan, Jones, Morita, Falsworth, Dernier--each marked off as deceased. All of them dying while he slept on ice. Howard and his wife, Maria, killed in a car crash. Leaving their son, Tony, behind. He has a file on him, too. Known to the world as quite the doll dizzy and now as Iron Man. Peggy’s still alive. Retired. There’s a phone number with it. An address as well. Bucky’s been too much of a coward to utilize either yet.

He’s been kept a secret anyway. The return of Captain America. After all these years. Found in the ice alive and unharmed. If only that second part was completely true.

Then there’s Steve’s file. Stamped as Missing in Action. MIA. Missing. They haven’t marked him as dead. Every time Bucky even so much as glances at it he feels something. Like maybe Steve’ll come walking into the door. Found. Then they can cross missing out.

He never does, of course. That file just sits on the table. Unopened. Bucky can’t bring himself to look inside.

No point in dwelling on such things. That’s what he’s here for. In the gym. One type of place that hasn’t fully changed. Not this one anyway.

Up against the ring are spare bags. Bucky readies himself and heaves it up onto the hook above him. He cracks his knuckles and starts to hit again.

“Trouble sleeping?”

Bucky sighs and turns to face Nick Fury. The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. has slipped in silently and steps forward now that he’s been noticed. Going back to the bag, Bucky resumes his punching.

“I slept for seventy fucking years,” he grunts between hits. “I think I’ve had my fill.”

“You should be out,” Nick comments as he steps closer. “Celebrating. Seeing the world.”

Bucky’s fist slams into the bag one last time. Celebrating? What is there to celebrate? Life? There is no life for him now. None. Catching his breath again, Bucky glares at him before moving away from the bag and starting to unravel the wraps around his knuckles.

“When I went under, the world was at war,” he says. “I wake up, they say we’ve won. They didn’t say what we’ve lost.”

Nick nods his head once as though concurring with Bucky’s reasoning. “We’ve made mistakes along the way. Some very recently.”

“You here with a mission?” Bucky scoffs. “Tryin’a get me back in the world?”

“Trying to save it.”

He drops a file on the wooden bench between them. It’s open and the picture on the first page of it makes Bucky’s knees weak enough that he needs to sit down.

“What made him so special?” the Red Skull growled.

Bucky sneered. “Everything.”

Just the thought of that thing, that fucking thing makes Bucky want to throw up. Hydra’s secret weapon. The thing that made them more powerful. The thing that Steve… that Steve died because of.

“Howard Stark fished that out of the ocean when he was looking for you,” Nick explains. Bucky glances up, confused. Him? They had looked for him? “He thought what we think. That the Tesseract is the key to unlimited, sustainable energy. Something the world sorely needs.”

The file trembles in Bucky’s hands. There’s only one reason Nick Fury could be presenting this to him. They had the Tesseract. And lost it. His jaw grinds when he glares back up at Nick.

“Who took it from you?”

“He’s called Loki. He’s… not from around here,” Nick says. “There’s a lot we’ll have to bring you up to speed on if you’re in.” He hesitates, but adds: “The world has gotten even stranger than you already know.”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“At this point I doubt anything would surprise me,” he huffs as he stands. Tosses his stuff into his gym bag and starts for the exit.

“Ten bucks says you’re wrong,” Nick remarks. Bucky just ignores him. “There’s a debriefing package waiting for you at your apartment.” Right. His apartment. “Anything you can tell us about the Tesseract that we ought to know now?”

That’s the question that makes Bucky stop. The air in his lungs feels tight. Red flashes before his eyes. His blood runs cold and he drops his things to the floor before turning to face Nick again.

“Yeah,” he growls. “The real Captain America died because of that thing. Steve is dead because of it.” Bucky marches back over and picks up the file again. Holds it up and flings away. The papers scatter all across the floor. Bucky snarls, “Howard should’ve left it in the fucking ocean.”

The silence is maddening. Dripping down every inch and every corner of the room. It wraps around Bucky. Uncomfortable and wrong.

This is not the way it’s supposed to be. Not this silence. Not the ice cold eyes that watch him from behind thick glass walls. Bucky hasn’t asked a question in days. It’s pointless anyway. The responses he gets are always meant to toy with him. To make him doubt. To make him feel guilt. To make him hate the Winter Soldier. To make Bucky hate himself even more. What’s worse is that it works. Every time without fail. It works and Steve knows it does.

Steve won’t converse with the rest of the Avengers outside of Bucky and Tasha. Not the way he does with them. He knows them though. Intimately. Probably better than they know each other. Steve knows what secrets linger in their shadows. He’s studied all of them and what he doesn’t already know, he pieces together in his own, twisted way.

The first to try had been Tony. It was a mistake to let him in there. Someone personally connected to Steve Rogers’ past, even if only by proxy.

“Well, well,” Steve greets. “If it isn’t the invincible Iron Man. I hear you’re quite the hard man to kill.”

Tony waltzes up to the cell as though Steve would be the same as anyone he could dazzle with his wit and charm.

“Not gonna work on me, Iron Giant,” Tony deadpans. “I’ll just get straight to it. There’s stuff inside that brain of yours we need knowing.”

“So they tell me,” Steve sniggers. “And what, pretell, do you think I’ll tell you?”

“For starters, the location of Hyrda bases.”

“Do you really think I know them?”

Tony ignores that and keeps going. “Then, how about giving us a list of the weapons they’ve been manufacturing?”

“Like the one’s yours were used to slaughter thousands of innocent men, women, and children?”

That makes Tony falter. It’s brief. Just a flick of Tony’s eyes as Steve’s statement sinks in, but the Winter Soldier notices. Of course he does. The corners of his lips turn up.

“And then… you can tells us all about the genetic experiments.”

“You mean the one’s in Sokovia?” He licks his teeth. “Your friend from the stars might be interested in what’s going on there.” Met with silence, the grin on Steve’s mouth deepens. “Go on, Mr. Stark. What else do you want to know?”

“I want…”

“You want, then?” Steve interrupts. “What happened to your team, Mr. Stark?”

Tony rolls his eyes, but if Bucky can see from the monitors that it made him stumble, then so can Steve.

“That’s not what I--”

“No, I think it is what you meant.” Steve steps closer to the glass. Presses his metal forearm against it. “I think you want to ask me about your father, isn’t that right? Go on, Mr. Stark. Ask.”

Tony lifts his chin as Steve drums metal fingers across the glass. The muscles in Tony’s jaw are tight and his chest expands with a deep inhale.

“I don’t need to know anything from you. You were never anything more than a science experiment.”

“Is that what your father told you?” Steve shakes his head. Two, long turns that just ooze with disappointment. “Or did he never shut up about good ol’ Captain America? Both of them. Did he gush about Steve Rogers and all his righteousness? The good inside of him? Did he tell you about his spunky sidekick?” The Winter Soldier’s gaze darts to the camera and Bucky can feel him watching even if he can’t really see. “All about Captain Barnes’ brave decision to fill the shoes of Captain Rogers?” Steve leans even closer to the glass. “Did he go on and on about how special they were while not even sparing a moment of his time for you? His great disappointment. The son he never wanted.”

Tony’s not one to be baited in by anyone enough that he can’t think of something to say. But Steve isn’t just anyone. He never was. He’s always been able to make people feel something. And now he uses that to his advantage.

“Fuck you,” Tony grunts.

“Ah, a witty retort from the great Tony Stark,” Steve sneers. “You know, I’ve seen the footage. What have you done to make your father proud? You’re not the man to make the sacrifice play. To lay down on the wire and let the other man crawl over you.”

“I flew into a wormhole,” Tony remarks. “I laid down to let a whole city crawl over me.”

“Iron Man did that. Not Tony Stark.”

“I am Iron Man.”

“No, you’re Tony Stark. You might be a genius. A playboy. Billionaire. Philanthropis. But your father was right to be disappointed. You’ve never been a hero.”

“A hero? Like you? You’re a genetic experiment, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle.”

Tony’s comment doesn’t even make the Winter Soldier flinch. It would have hurt Steve if Steve was there. But the Winter Soldier doesn’t remember being little. He doesn’t remember the way the world looked upon him with disgust and regarded him as a burden. He doesn’t know how hard he tried to show his worth. To prove to the world just how big he really was.

“Big man in a suit of armor,” Steve says softly. Each word holding a certain edge that sends shivers down Bucky’s spine. “Take that off, what are you? Just an empty man who will never live up to his promises. A disappointment whose daddy didn’t love him.” The Winter Soldier pushes away from the wall now and strolls back to the bed. “I think I’ve told you everything you need to know, Mr. Stark.”

Even if Tony had more to say, Steve’s made it clear he will remain silent now. Tony leaves the cell block. Leaves the Tower.

And doesn’t return for three days.

The flash of light from the Tesseract is blinding, and when it fades, the Red Skull goes with it. Bucky’s lip is bleeding and his shoulder is jammed, but he’s otherwise okay. Now he just needs to get this jet down safely and he can go home. This plane needs to come down. There’s so many threats, so many cities that will be destroyed if Bucky can’t bring it down.

He darts over to the controls. His stomach falls as a wave of nausea washes over him. One look at them is all he needs. Whatever happened with the Tesseract has damaged them. Or maybe this is how Schmidt wanted it. Stuck on it’s current path to New York to cause whatever damage possible. To Steve and Bucky’s home. Bucky looks out the front windows. Nothing but open sea and icy waters. Hoping the communication systems aren’t down, Bucky grabs the radio and patches through.

“Come in, come in,” he says into it. “This is Captain Barnes. Do you read me?”

“Captain Barnes.” Morita is on the other end, “What is your--”

“Bucky?” Peggy’s voice comes through the static, interrupting Morita’s question. “Bucky, is that you? Are you alright?”

“Peggy!” At least he can give her some piece of good news. “Schmidt’s dead.”

“What about the plane?”

“Um…” Bucky’s still trying to fiddle with the controls. He’s not Howard. Doesn’t have such skill and he’s going too fast. “That’s a little hard to explain.”

“Give me your coordinates.” She actually sounds worried for him. “I’ll find you a safe landing site.”

The flashing lights on the control panel yell at Bucky. This thing is armed to the max. So many people are going to die if he doesn’t do something. What though? What can he… what would Steve do? Looking out the front windows again, Bucky knows exactly what Steve would do. And what he needs to do.

“There’s not gonna be a safe landing,” Bucky replies. “But I can try and… force it down.”

For a moment, Bucky doesn’t get any answer. He wonders if maybe the radio’s cut out. Maybe he’s alone already.

“I-I’ll get Howard on the line,” Peggy then comes back with. “He’ll… he’ll know what to do.”

It sounds like she might be starting to panic. That can’t be. Why would she panic for him?

“There’s not enough time,” he explains. “This thing’s moving too fast and it’s headed for New York.” Bucky feels a rush of tears hit his eyes. If only he got to see Steve one last time. Impossible. Even if there is such thing as heaven, Bucky doubts he’d be meeting Steve there. “I gotta put her in the water.”

“Bucky, please, wait… you don’t have to do this… we can figure something out.”

“Right now I’m in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer… a lot’a people are gonna die. Peggy…” Bucky wipes at his eyes. “This is what Steve would do.”

Bucky reaches into his pocket. Pulls out the one picture he’s kept on him since he shipped off and sets it on the dash in front of him. One of him and Steve. Two years ago on Steve’s birthday. Steve has this sour puss look on his face, but it’s only because he’s trying to keep from laughing since the hand Bucky’s got behind his back was tickling him. Bucky smiles at it and then shoves the yoke forward to force the quick descent down to the ice.

He glances at the picture of he and Steve. Bucky doesn’t want to die alone.

“Peggy?”

“I… I’m here, Bucky.”

Sounds like she’s crying. Bucky wants to tell her not to. Don’t shed tears for him. But maybe the tears are just for too much so soon. No one needs to cry for him.

“You really loved him, huh?” he asks. “Not Captain America, but my Stevie. You really loved Steve.”

“I did, Bucky. I do. I truly do.” There’s a hitch in her voice when she says, “You promised.”

Bucky needs to hold back the tears. She’s right. He did promise her. That night at the bar, when they shared that bottle of Scotch. When Steve Rogers was gone for good and all the world was left with was Bucky Barnes.

“When this war is over, Peg?” Bucky had said. “I’m gonna give you that dance. I’ll even step on your toes. Give ya’ the real Steve Rogers’ experience.”

Peggy had chuckled through her held in tears. “Promise me, Barnes. You promise me. We’ll dance for him.”

“I promise, Peg.”

Nothing right. Bucky can’t even do right by Steve’s girl.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I’m gonna need a rain check.”

He can hear her sniffle. Peggy had held in her tears that night, but she’s not holding them in now.

“Alright. A week next Saturday at the Stork Club,” she decides.

Tears clog Bucky’s vision. Not that it matters. He doesn’t need to see in order to crash a plane.

“You got it, Peg.”

“Don’t you dare be late.”

“You know…” Bucky needs a second. Can’t get it out without his voice cracking. “He loved you, too, Peggy. He carried a picture of you. In his compass. He loved… he loved you.”

Wanted to marry her, too. That’s what he told Bucky. He wanted to start a family and he told Bucky they’d each have kids that would pay them back for all the trouble they caused. Bucky would have taken it. Anything to see Steve happy. If he couldn’t have Steve that way, that was the next best thing. Bucky would have been so happy with it, too.

“Bucky?” Peggy’s voice is quiet. Cautious. “He… he loved you, too. He loved you… the way… the way you love him.”

Bucky cries harder. “I just… I wanna make ‘im proud, Peggy.”

Peggy’s voice starts to come through the radio again only it’s blanketed in static and fuzz. It’s the last thing Bucky hears for seventy years.

Bucky wakes once again in a hospital bed. Sam on one side. Empty bed on the other.

The manhunt begins.

Out of the Avengers, Bucky and Tasha are the only ones who come out of the control panel. Everyone else watches from the monitors. After Tony’s attempt, Clint was thrown off by Steve’s mention of a farm upstate. He turned white and ran out. Sam didn’t try. Said it would be conflict of interest.

“If he finds out about us--” He waved between himself and Bucky. “--it’ll only give him more fuel.”

Bruce didn’t even bother. The last thing they needed was the Hulk showing up right there in the Winter Soldier’s cell block. Loki had manipulated use of the green guy. Bruce wasn’t going to let Steve Rogers do it, too.

Even Thor -- the demi god from another world -- wasn’t immune to Steve’s tricks. The Winter Soldier knew how to hedge his battle, but after a bit of time, Thor had to leave with mentions of a dead brother and fallen kingdom hanging over his head. At least he found out that somewhere in the world is a Hyrda base with Loki’s staff.

It’s a waking nightmare for Bucky. All of this. Seeing his friends fall one by one to Steve’s sweet manipulation. Watching Steve enjoy himself as they become just another notch in his belt.

Bucky’s Steve knew how to inspire and motivate with just a few words. Found strength where others saw weakness. Fought for life when only death surrounded him. Bucky’s Steve was the sun.

The Winter Soldier is a liar and a manipulator. Turns roses to weeds and gold into dirt with the words he chooses. Meticulously picked in just a few heartbeats to wither away a person’s soul. The Winter Soldier is ice.

Steve was trying to fight the darkness in the world. He fell from a train. The darkness followed.

“Do you know the story of the Жар-пти́ца, Captain?” Steve asks. His voice slicing through the silence -- and Bucky’s heart -- like a steel sword.

The whole rooms feels like it’s on fire now. Every molecule bursting to flames just by a few words that fall casually from the Winter Soldier’s mouth.

Bucky’s head snaps up. Once again, Steve’s slithered inside of him. Bucky knows he shouldn’t answer. But the words come out anyway.

“The firebird?” Bucky says the word in English. He can’t get his voice too much higher than a whisper. “Like a phoenix?”

“Да,” Steve nods his head. “Something like the phoenix. But the phoenix is the sun; new beginnings. He obtains new life by rising from the ashes of death. I speak of the Жар-пти́ца. The firebird. Do you know it?”

“No,” Bucky mutters. Glances back down and feels a burn in his throat. “But I guess you’re going to tell me.”

He could always leave. Bucky doesn’t have to listen to a word that Steve has to say. Words forged from a mind taken apart and put back together in a most warped and unnatural way. A mind not his own.

The smile that twists up on Steve’s lips wraps around Bucky’s heart and squeezes. No matter what Bucky does or doesn’t do or tries to do, it never matters. Steve has him. Always has. Always will. Even this Steve.

“The firebird is a magical, glowing bird,” Steve tells him. “A bird from a faraway land. There are several different tales of the firebird, but I think my favorite is the one about a little girl named Maryushka. You see, Captain, Maryushka was a small and gentle orphan who lived in a small village.” Orphan. Small and gentle. Just like Steve. Despite the tiffs and rumbles the guy was always getting into, Steve was still gentle. “People from all over the world would come to buy her embroidery for it was so lovely even the gods sought such beauty. Merchants begged her to work for them, but she always replied ‘I will sell to anyone who thinks my work is beautiful, but I will not leave the village of my birth.’

“One day, the sorcerer, Коще́й Бессме́ртный--” Koschei the Deathless. “--heard of her work and transformed himself into a beautiful young man to see for himself. Upon seeing the beauty of it, Коще́й became enraged that a mere mortal possessed skill greater than his. Коще́й tried to tempt little Maryushka with promises of being his queen if she would come with him.”

“She said no,” Bucky assumes.

“She said no,” Steve agrees. “As punishment for her insolence, Коще́й transformed her into the firebird and himself into a giant falcon. Коще́й carried her away in his talons. To leave her memory with her village, Maryushka shed her beautiful feathers and when the last one fell, she died in the falcon’s talons. The feathers remained bright and beautiful, however, they only showed their colors to those who wished to create beauty in the world.”

He stops there and Bucky takes it to mean that’s the end of the story. From inside his cell, Steve turns away from Bucky and leans back against his pillows. His eyes close.

“Is there a point to all of that?” Bucky asks.

There has to be. Right now, Bucky feels totally unprepared for whatever blow the Winter Soldier is readying to deliver. Will it come from the front? The side? Something planted in him already and now ready to explode?

But Steve’s mouth curves up. He remains rested back on the bed with his eyes closed. Fingers clasped together.

“Can’t I share a story with you, Captain Barnes?”

“You don’t do anything without a reason.”

“Don’t I?” Steve chuckles. “But then perhaps you are the giant falcon, Captain. You were jealous of your friend, weren’t you?”

“No,” Bucky answers, and for the first time, feels confident. “I wasn’t jealous of you. I was…”

Jealous of everyone else. All the new people who soaked up Steve’s attention. Of all the people who…

Oh. Now Bucky understands. Yes, he was jealous. Like Koschei the Deathless, Bucky wanted something all for himself. If he wasn’t there on that train, Steve wouldn’t have fallen. Steve would have gone on making the world beautiful.

Instead, Steve fell with Bucky. Refused to leave him even as they plummeted to the frozen earth. Because he tried to save Bucky and was then turned into night.

Bucky destroyed him.

The thoughts strangle him. Put tears in his eyes and without another word, Bucky rises to leave.

“Until next time, Captain.” Steve says. Still smirking at the pleasure of what he’s able to do to Bucky.

S.H.I.E.L.D is dismantled. The United States’ government wants answers. The world wants answers. The Winter Soldier is declared enemy number one. Deadly. Kill on sight. The world wants Steve dead. Wants Steve dead.

The Avengers catch up to him first--only because of Stark’s influence and Fury’s connections. It takes three tranquilizer darts, Clint’s wrist breaking, and Tony getting stabbed when they thought Steve was down the first time, but they get him. Bring him in under the hidden shadows of night. Secrecy. For evaluation.

There are files of the horrid things done to Steve, but nothing can prepare Bucky for the weeks that follow.

Nights are the worst. Waking up alone. Sheets soaked in sweat and sometimes other bodily fluids. Sometimes he can’t breathe. Lungs swelling to capacity and burning with every breath he tries to take.

Bucky doesn’t always remember the dreams. The nightmares. It’s the scream that echoes through his mind. His scream. And Steve’s silence as they fell. He can still feel the ground coming up under his back. Like all the world crushing him from behind. Pushing the air out of his lungs. Cracking bones. Splitting open skin and tearing muscle. Bucky knew real pain then. He thought he’d never feel anything like it after that.

He was wrong.

Now Bucky understand pain. When the Winter Soldier looks at him and sees a stranger. When the Winter Soldier sees his own reflection and sees only the weapon he’s been turned into. When the Winter Soldier smiles at the Black Widow and taunts Captain America. Bucky would fall a hundred times to change this. To fix this.

He’s read the files. Those which Tasha’s been able to track down, even after Steve’s triggered her memories of them.

“I got my time with the Winter Soldier,” she said as she handed the folders over. “That man’s the only one I know. If your Steve is in there…” Tasha smirked. Expression caught between hopeful and doubtful. “You both deserve to have him back.”

Steve would have killed her that day on the bridge. Knowing who she was and everything. He’d have killed her without hesitating because she was his mission and the Winter Soldier is only the mission. His stone heart would have beat once for her and then kept on beating. She knows it. Steve knows it. Bucky knows it.

The files tell Bucky things he wants to know and things he wishes he never had to find out. The twisted, horrible things that have been done to Steve Rogers in order to make the Winter Soldier. Electroshock and poisons and operations. Countless forms of torture. Sleep deprivation, starvation, dehydration, isolation. Lies and deceit. Punishment and reward. And when all else failed, botched lobotomies. Over and over. All things to take Steve out of the body that housed him.

It should have been him. Bucky won’t say the words out loud. Knows it’ll do more harm than good. But it should have been him.

“Come home with me, Steve,” Bucky begs. “Please?”

Steve’s gaze lowers. For a single heartbeat, Bucky wonders if maybe he’s gotten to Steve. Worn him down enough to agree to leave this war-torn place behind for good and just go home to Brooklyn. Then Steve’s eyes sweep back up. And Bucky knows his hope has been for naught.

“I can’t, Buck,” he says. Just like he’s been saying every time they’ve had this discussion. “I got a responsibility. I’m… I’m…”

“Captain America?”

Bucky fills in what Steve can’t bring himself to say. That Steve is now Captain America. They haven’t had much time to themselves since getting back to England. Bucky’s been debriefed and checked by doctors and deemed healthy. Fit for fighting, but allowed to return back home with honors if he so chooses.

He wants to. Oh hell does he want to. He’s slept and slept and slept -- the most peaceful whenever Steve is with him -- but it never feels enough. Maybe if he goes home, Bucky’ll finally find the real sleep he wants. There’s only one problem.

“Yeah.” Steve takes hold of Bucky’s hands. Kisses his knuckles. “It’s okay, Bucky. Go home. You deserve it. I got this. I’ll have ‘em on the ropes in no time.”

Which is everything that breaks Bucky’s heart. Pieces of it shattering bit by bit. Sure, Bucky can go home. Rest, while Steve stays here and goes on taking down Hydra bases as Captain America. Because Steve doesn’t need him anymore. There is no room for Bucky Barnes in Steve Rogers’ new life. It hurts.

“Mm.” Bucky glances up at him. Because Steve is taller than him now. Bigger than him now. Stronger than him now. Doesn’t need him now. Bucky’s lost him. “Punk’s all grown up. Don’t need the likes’a me anymore.”

He means to be funny even if he does mean every word. Bucky knows he’s fucked up when Steve glowers at him. Same look, bigger body.

“Don’t need you?” Steve presses his lips into a line. “Is that… do you really think that Bucky? That I don’t… need you?” There’s a pause there, but mostly for Steve to reflect on Bucky’s comment since it’s hardly enough time for Bucky to say anything. “I need ya, Buck. I’ve always needed ya. I thought maybe now…” Steve shrugs and looks off to the side. “Maybe now you’d need me, too.”

Bucky’s eyes grow side. Need Steve? Too? Did this punk actually think…?

“You’re a real fat-head, you know that, Steve?” he grunts. “A god damn punk if I ever knew one.”

“Buck, I…”

“Just cause you got that pretty new body don’t mean I won’t give you some chin music.” Bucky lifts his fist. Wouldn’t be the first time he’s threatened to punch the kid in the face. Not like he hasn’t done it before either. “You think I didn’t need you? Fuck, Steve, I need you like fuckin’ air.”

The look on Steve’s face, the mist that sprinkles through his eyes, it all screams one thing. He really has no idea. Not a damn clue how much he means to Bucky.

“Bucky…” Steve whispers and slips his arm around Bucky’s waist.

It takes all Bucky has not to tear up the way Steve had. Steve’s told him he still needs him. Bucky can’t imagine why or how. What can’t he do with this new body of his?

The cot is too small for the both of them to really fit comfortably, but they manage. Steve’s got his head down on Bucky’s shoulder, all his weight pushed against him like he’s still a measly ninety pounds. The discomfort is worth having Steve near him.

Bucky runs fingers through Steve’s hair. Feels so good. For a while there, Bucky didn’t think he’d ever get to do this again.There’s no one else in the world Steve’ll let do this. Not even Peggy, Steve’s told him. This is theirs.

“Y’know,” Steve sniffles. Tries to pretend that maybe dust or something got in his eyes but stays right where he is. Bucky’s fingers still combing through the locks of blonde. “I can probably go a round or two with you now. You might not be able to hit me so easy.”

“Yeah, yeah, hot shot,” Bucky scoffs. “I know it. So what’re ya planning? You going all by your lonesome and taking down them bases?”

“Mm-mm.” Steve’s hand makes its way to Bucky’s hip. “Colonel Phillip’ll probably wanna put a team together.” He chuckles to himself. A self-deprecating sort of sound. “Dunno who’s gonna be crazy enough to follow me all over Europe going after Hydra.”

In that, Bucky’s pretty sure he can help.

“See, I told ya,” Bucky laughs when Steve comes to join him in the back of the bar. “They’re all idiots.”

They all said yes. Dugan, Jones, Morita, Falsworth, Dernier. All of them who just escaped being prisoners of war and are all ready to go right back into it. Fun, they called it. Bucky stayed within earshot just to make sure.

He’s been back in the corner of the bar. Away from the hubbub and crowd. Nursing his Scotch by himself while Steve talked to the others. His uniform’s not up to code and he’s feeling a bit ragged compared to his normal standards, but he just can’t bring himself to care too much. Steve is going back into war. And now he’s got a bunch of reckless fools going with him. The best men he can have by his side.

Steve chuckles as he grabs a stool next to him. He leans over the bar and smiles at Bucky.

“How bout you?” he asks. “You ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?”

“Hell no.” Neither of them will come out and say it, but this is the first time Steve is really asking Bucky to stay with him. “That little guy from Brooklyn who was… too dumb to not run away from a fight?” Bucky glances to Steve. Not Captain America. Steve. “I’m following him.”

Till the end of the line. Always.

Steve smiles at him. That’s a smile Bucky knows. Steve’s happy that he’s staying.

Bucky can’t help it. “But you’re keeping the outfit right?”

Looks like Steve has already come up with a witty retort, but decides to just keep smiling at Bucky. As though he’ll do anything as long as it’ll make Bucky laugh again.

“You know what?” he says. “It’s kinda growing on me.”

It works. Bucky does laugh. It feels good, too. This world is strange. So very strange. With doctors hellbent on creating something sinister and men with red skulls and Captain America. But there’s still Steve Rogers. Any world with him in it is a good one. Bucky still has a place. Always has. Right by Steve’s side.

Bucky hasn’t lost him at all. Steve came back to him.

An army from outer space. Fury was right. Bucky was indeed quite surprised. Even paid the man that ten bucks when the Helicarrier took off. This world is even stranger than the one he left behind. With men in iron suits, giant green rage monsters, people from worlds they claim are gods, and master assassins running around like the world is theirs for the taking.

“You sure about this?”

Tasha nods. “Yeah. It’ll be fun.”

Backing up, Natasha jets forward and leaps up. Bucky braces for it and uses the shield to hoist her up in the air. She grabs onto one of the alien spacecrafts and takes off. A smile pulls up on Bucky’s lips.

The Avengers. A modern version of the Commandos. Who turned to him for leadership when they needed it, looked to him to guide them when everything started to fall apart. Bucky pulled them together.

“How do we do this?” Tasha asked.

The way Steve would.

“As a team,” Bucky answered.

All eyes on Captain America as he handed out instructions. Even when Banner rolled in in a most anti-climactic entrance. Bucky told them all where he thought they’d be best. Barton up top with his bird’s eye view, Stark on the perimeter to push back or turn the enemy to ash, Thor to slow them down with his lightning to light the fuckers up, Romanoff down there with him on the ground to keep the fighting on them.

“And Hulk?” Bucky had one final direction. Even the Hulk gave him his attention. “Smash.”

The Avengers stood together. A united front ready to take Loki and his army down.

The Chitari’s attacks are relentless, but the Avengers give it their all. Cap and Iron Man, despite their initial rough start, make a great team. Taking down several enemies at one time.

“Captain, the bank past 42nd and Madison,” Hawkeye tells him. “They caught a lot of civilians in there.”

Those sharp, marksmen eyes of his are everything they need to stand a chance. So many more people would already be dead if they didn’t have Barton up there, taking the enemy down from above.

“I’m on it,” Bucky answers.

The bank is full of people. Being held hostage by an alien force ready to kill them all just for a shot at power. At least, that what Bucky figures. Who knows what Loki told them. Their weapons are like Hyrda weapons. Blasts of energy that knock him out a window after he tosses their bomb back at them.

A car has broken his fall. Not as comfortable as one would imagine. Bucky groans as he rolls off. Needs a few moments to catch his breath. That’s all he gets.

They’re coming in hot. Coming in fast. So many of them. Too many of them. They just keep coming and coming out of that portal in the sky.

Thor is by his side. Fighting with him and pushing as many back with his unearthly strength as possible. It’s a good thing he’s there too for one shot to Bucky’s stomach knocks him to the ground. He can get back up of course, but having an ally there makes it easier.

That large hand of Thor’s is held out in front of him. Bucky takes it. Let’s Thor bring him back to his feet.

“You ready for another bout?”

Bucky chuckles. “Why? You gettin’ sleepy?”

Thor grins, but says nothing. For just a second, Bucky forgot he wasn’t with Steve. Steve would have had something witty to respond with.

This needs to end. Soon. They can’t keep going like this. Even Stark’s suit of iron has its limits and Thor’s energy isn’t endless. Eventually the Hulk will tire. Hawkeye’s arrows will run out and Natasha can’t do it all. Bucky’s not Steve.

“Can anybody copy?” Tasha’s voice rings out in Bucky’s ear. “I can shut the portal down.”

“Do it!” Bucky shouts.

“No, wait…” Tony counters.

“Stark, these shits are still coming!”

“I’ve got a nuke coming in, it’s gonna blow in less than a minute.”

Right, cause they didn’t have enough to deal with. Let’s throw a fucking nuclear bomb on top of the endless alien army.

All Bucky and the rest of them can do is watch as Stark flies the bomb up into the portal. The Chitari fall. Bucky waits. And waits. Watches the portal. And waits some more. Stark doesn’t come out.

Why? Why does Bucky have to lose someone else? Already? He has to make this call though. Captain America needs to do this.

“Close it,” he murmurs.

Another spark of light. Just like when the Tesseract killed the Red Skull. This time it’s killed a friend. The sky closes. And… Iron Man falls from it.

“Son of a bitch,” Bucky laughs.

The Hulk catches him. Brings him to the ground and rips his mask off. Bucky dashes to his side to check on him. Stark’s not breathing. He can’t die. Not Howard’s son. He can’t. He… Stark’s eyes pop open when the Hulk roars.

“Uh! What the hell? What just happened?” Stark blinks and looks around. “Please tell me nobody kissed me.”

Bucky grins. Surveys the damage done, but the life still around them.

“We won,” he announces.

The Avengers. There might really still be a place left in the world for Bucky. Right here. With this ragtag group of misfits and unlikely heroes.

Nights are the worst. The world is quiet around him and his brain is anything but.

And nights are the best. Nights are the only time Steve doesn’t look at him with cruelty in his eyes. That scornful pull on his lips is absent. When the Winter Soldier sleeps, he looks peaceful.

In the cell with him, Bucky stands over the bed. He’s asked JARVIS to turn the cameras off. No one else needs to know about his late night confessions. Words said to sleeping ears with the desperate hope they’ll reach the man inside.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whispers. “Steve, I know I don’t deserve it, but…” He lowers himself to the very edge of the bed. “Can you ever forgive me?”

Eyes scan over the sleeping body. Stevie. Does he still like to stretch out and hog the bed? Does he still snore like a damn tank engine? Have they changed that about him, too?

“It should’ve been me, Stevie,” he murmurs. Bucky knows what they others would say. Then it’d be you in there, Buck. That’s right. And Bucky’d take it. Anything to spare Steve this fate. But it’s not Bucky in this bed. Sedated and a prisoner. It’s Steve. “Come back to me, Steve. Please come back. I’ll spend the rest of my life makin’ it up to you. You ain’t ever gotta feel no pain again, baby.” Bucky’s voice cracks. The first of the tears hit him hard. “I’ll do anything for you. Just don’t let this be goodbye.”

Slowly, cautiously, Bucky reaches up and brushes the few strands of hair lying against Steve’s brow away. The temptation is too much to resist. Once he touches just one hair, Bucky’s fingers crave more. His hand quivers slightly, tears blur his vision, and Bucky gently combs fingers through Steve’s hair.

Everything about Steve is different. His voice, his eyes, his expressions, his posture. He sees by calculating and talks by manipulating. Looks at someone as if reading every sin ever committed and moves like snow touching the ground.

Everything about Steve is different. Except his hair. It’s still soft. Still smooth. Falls through Bucky’s fingers like silk. Refuses to fall neatly on his head.

Bucky’s not prepared.

The onslaught of emotion makes him shake. Has him grinding his teeth in anger and wanting spit nails and to cry hot tears because there’s nothing left to do.

“You’d like Sam, Steve,” he says. Stares off the the side. “I think you’d really like him. He’s a good man. A great man. You…” He needs a moment to compose himself. “You already know Natasha. Your малютка.” Little one. He calls Tasha his little one. She calls him my love. “Clint is a such a shit,” Bucky chuckles. “You’d love ‘im. Tony, uh, he’s a lot like Howard and also nothing like him. A real pisser. Pepper’s got her hands full, but she can handle him.” Tears rolls down his cheeks, but Bucky keeps going. Hand still moving softly through Steve’s hair. “Bruce is real a real sweetheart. I think you’d be able to help him, Stevie. Make him see how much worth he really has. Thor, oh man, Thor, is something else. Fell from the stars, Stevie. He came right outta the sky.”

More tears roll down his cheeks as he continues to speak softly. Words that fall silent to the ears they’re meant for. Like the prayers Bucky sends to the God he no longer believes in.

Bucky speaks and cries and lets his fingers continue to wander through Steve’s hair. The guilt is overwhelming as all the ways he could have prevented this from happening splash through his memory. A step to the right instead of the left, a quicker thought, not following Steve at all. If he had gone home in the first place instead of tagging along as though Steve really needed him. Bucky’s selfish need to be with Steve, to find his place in the world at his side--that’s what’s caused this.

All Bucky wanted to do was protect Steve. Steve tried to protect him. And this is the result.

Perhaps they’re just never meant to be. Two magnets with the same fields. Always pushing each other away no matter how much they want to be together.

Bucky’s quiet now. No more tears as he sits at the side of the Winter Soldier’s bed, torn between wanting to stay forever and knowing he should leave.

The slight movement under him makes Bucky glance over. Steve adjusting his position for the first time since Bucky’s gotten there. Strange though, Steve -- this Steve anyway -- doesn’t move the way the Steve Bucky knew did. It takes only a heartbeat for Bucky to realize that Steve’s not simply moving. His body’s stiffened, just enough that Bucky’s enhanced senses can pick it up. His breathing has changed, his fingers twitch. All signs of someone awake and taking in their surroundings.

Bucky goes to yank his hand away from the Winter Soldier’s hair, only to have his wrist ensnared by metal. Tugging back, Bucky gets a mere breath or two to struggle before Steve’s eyes pop open. There isn’t even a half a second of confusion. He’s totally focused. Ready for action. Upon seeing who it is that he’s captured in his powerful and unrelenting grip, the Winter Soldier sneers.

“Captain America,” Steve greets. Voice dripping with disdain. His eyes smolder with vulgar intrigue. “To what do I owe such a surprise? You haven’t been to see me in weeks.” That’s just to Steve’s knowledge. Bucky’s been here almost every night. “Have you come to reminisce about old times again?”

Bucky gives one more tug to attempt to free himself before giving up. Between the serum in his own blood and the sedatives mixed with Steve’s, Bucky should be able to take care of this if it comes down to a fight. He can use Steve’s trigger word if it comes down to it.

“Just… checking… on you.”

For a few seconds, Steve just stares at him. Holding Bucky’s gaze intensely in his own. A smile then breaks across his face and he lets go of Bucky’s wrist.

“You know, most people fidget when they lie,” he murmurs. “You hold too still. And you don’t blink. Dead giveaways.”

His eyes are closed again. Body’s relaxed. As if he doesn’t view Bucky as any sort of threat at all.

Bucky sighs. He’s not normally a bad liar. Can’t do it with the skill and expertise as one trained in such areas. He’s not manipulative. Doesn’t specialize in the art. But being under Steve’s scrutiny is nothing short of frightening. The stare Bucky used to crave, used to know as so beautiful and warming, now scares him.

“You let Tasha touch you,” he says. Bucky’s not sure where the statement comes from. It’s just the first thing that’s come to mind. “You used to let me.”

Licking his lips, Steve hums to himself before opening his eyes again. He looks at Bucky as though he’s amused by him.

“мой маленький,” Steve breathes. My little one. “She’s not you, Captain Barnes.” He slowly sits himself up. “You say your friend let you touch him?”

“He… you did,” Bucky answers. Adjusting his position so that they’re face to face. “You let me run my fingers through your hair. Only me. You liked it.”

“And did you like it?”

Heart rate picking up, Bucky’s sure Steve is trying to toy with him again. Why else would he want to know such things?

Rather than be manipulated by the Winter Soldier again, who’ll twist words and lead Bucky to the path of Hell wearing a smile, Bucky gets up to leave.

He’s at the door, punching the code for the lock in when Steve says, “You have no questions for me, Captain? Everyone else has so many of them. Have you asked all of yours?”

Steve must be speaking of the interrogations they’ve tried with him. To ask about his victims and anything else he could possibly know. Other programs like his own or the Red Room. Locations of Hydra bases. Potential threats. Anything.

Not even S.H.I.E.L.D’s former top interrogators could manage to even put a dent in Steve’s iron will. In fact, most of them couldn’t even stay in the room with him for more than a few minutes. One came out crying after trying for just an hour. Another vomited. No one has gotten close to the answers they’re seeking.

The only one Bucky’s ever seen him have some sort of normal conversation with is Tasha. He’s calmed by her presence. Feels no need to play his mind games with her. But she doesn’t try any of her tricks on him.

“He’s the one who taught me,” she explained. “He’d see right through me.”

Bucky wonders if this is just one line she can’t bring herself to cross. Even with all the red on her ledger. She can’t bring herself to fully turn on Steve. Her возлюбленный. No matter how twisted it may be.

Looking back at the Winter Soldier, Bucky grinds his teeth.

“Why do you mock me?” he spits. “If you don’t remember me, why? Why do you…”

Steve’s snigger cuts him off. Mouth snapping shut, Bucky sucks in a deep breath. He hates this man. This man who stole Steve’s face. The man who speaks with Steve’s voice. This man who uses Steve’s body to spill innocent blood.

“Do you not enjoying talking to your old friend then?” Steve questions. “Isn’t that why you’re here?”

Honestly, Bucky doesn’t know why he keeps coming back here. When day after day it’s increasingly harder to hold onto hope that Steve is in there fighting. All it brings it hurt and pain.

“I don’t know,” Bucky whispers. “I don’t know what I’m doing here. I don’t even know what the fuck you’re still doing here.”

Strange that Fury hasn’t made the call. They’re not making any progress with Steve.

“I’m here for you, of course,” Steve sneers. “Why else do you think they haven’t tried putting a bullet in my head?”

It’s not hard to miss the way Steve phrases that. Tried. They haven’t tried putting a bullet in his head. As if they couldn’t even if… when…

“You… then why haven’t you tried…”

“They’ve made me sluggish,” he replies. “Don’t you think I’ve noticed? I’ll leave when my chance shows itself. Until then…” Steve pats the spot Bucky’s vacated. “Come. Sit with me, Captain. Tell me about your friend.”

“You…” Bucky rattles his head. Steve will do anything to take the upperhand. He needs to remember that. Keep that the fresh in his mind. Steve wants the upperhand. “You want me to tell you about yourself?”

Steve laughs. Dark, but amused. “No, Captain Barnes. I know about me. I know that I killed that engineer in Odessa. I know I trained my sweet Natalia.” The way Tasha’s given name rolls off his tongue -- so familiar and warm -- it’s the way Steve used to say Bucky’s name. “I know that the Starks didn’t die in an accident. I know about myself.” Steve’s tongue snakes across his bottom lip. “What I want to know now, is about your friend.”

“But… why?”

It’s not like he’ll get a straight answer. Bucky knows this. And yet he can’t help himself from asking anyway.

But Steve shrugs and simply says, “Curiosity.”

“Killed the cat,” Bucky says. A reflex of sorts. The sort of witty banter he and Steve would have engaged in so many years ago.

Much to his surprise, Steve actually chuckles as if he’s found Bucky’s statement humorous.

“And satisfaction, brought it back,” Steve replies. The smile he uses first is warm. So much more like the one Bucky knows. But then Steve flicks his eyebrows. In that one move, any resemblance of Steve fades back to the Winter Soldier. “I’ll tell you what, Captain.” His eyes scan something outside of the cell. Up on the ceiling. “If you turn those cameras back on, then I’ll answer some of your questions.”

Bucky glances at the cameras behind him. His heart beats hard against his ribs. He knows why Steve wants those cameras back on. All evidence of Bucky’s confessions will be on file. They both know it.

“JARVIS?” Bucky says. Just loud enough that the AI system is aware he’s speaking directly to him.

“Yes, Captain Barnes?”

“Reboot security cameras of Cell Block A, would you?”

There’s a satisfied pull on the corners of Steve’s mouth. Not quite a smile, but it’s there.

“Certainly, Captain.” There’s a pause before JARVIS says, “Cell Block A’s security camera’s up and running, Captain.”

“Thanks, JARVIS.” Bucky crosses the cell and goes back to Steve’s bed. He sits down on the spot Steve’s pat. “Why don’t you remember me? You remember… other things, like what happened when they took you, but… not us. Not from then. Why?”

“A soldier has no need for such things,” Steve replies. No hesitation. Answering just like he promised. “I know the things that are useful to me. The rest is to be cast away.”

“Why is knowing what happened after we fell--”

“How did you meet your friend?” Steve interrupts. It’s only fair. Steve’s already answered one of Bucky’s questions. “What was that like?”

That day hits Bucky like a tidal wave of remembrance. Every last detail flooding through his mind and making it hard to speak.

“1930,” Bucky whispers. “You were in a back alley gettin’ your ass handed to you by a couple’a goons always pickin’ on kids for money. I never thought to step in till I saw you standin’ up to ‘em.” Bucky lets out an uneasy chuckle. “You even tried to tuss with me. We stuck by each others side everyday after that.”

Steve shifts a bit and doesn’t answer beyond a flick of the eyebrows. He’s waiting for Bucky’s next question. Waiting for the opportune moment.

The questions on Bucky’s mind are all self serving. He should ask about the things they need to know. Things about Hydra and their operations. Look for ways to take down the rest of their bases and make the world a better place.

Instead, Bucky asks, “Do you remember Peggy?”

“Agent Margaret “Peggy” Carter. Date of birth April 12, 1921,” Steve recites. No affection in his voice. Not even a hint of the love he had for Peggy present. “Member of the British Royal Military and SSR agent. Founder and agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. Threat level at peak: 6. Threat level current: 2. Status: retired.”

That’s all he says. No mention of the woman underneath all that. Fierce and loyal. The woman that won Steve’s heart and saw him for everything he always was. Steve wanted to marry her. To the Winter Soldier, she’s a few statistics.

“Did he know how you felt about him?” Steve asks. “Did you ever confess your love to your friend?”

It was a battle not to everyday. Bucky wanted to tell Steve since they were kids. They shared a moment. One day out of many before Bucky shipped off. One kiss when Steve saved him from the base in Austria. Nothing ever more than that. Bucky could never bring himself to tell Steve.

“No,” Bucky whispers. “I couldn’t tell you. I was… scared.”

Steve clicks his tongue. Bucky flicks his gaze back up at him. Into the cold eyes that used to hold all the sunlight Bucky ever needed.

“Such a shame.” The Winter Soldier tsks and shakes his head. Slow back and forths. “Now you’ll never know how he felt about you. When did you do it, Captain Barnes?”

“Do what?”

“When did you try to take your life?” Bucky’s heart slams against his chest. His throat is tight. His head spins. “Was it after you woke here? Before your friend died? Come now, Captain, don’t be shy. We’re all friends here, isn’t that right?”

Bucky tries not to look up at the cameras. Rolling. Saving this for everyone to see. He doesn’t want to answer this. This question that Steve can’t possibly know anything about.

“I… I didn’t,” Bucky says.

“And we were off to such a good start,” Steve sighs. “Don’t lie, Captain Barnes. I don’t like it.”

Eyes closing, Bucky lowers his head.

“I’m not lying. I went up to the roof. Two days after I woke from the ice. I was scared.”

“You were weak.”

Don’t listen to him. He can’t listen. Everything the Winter Soldier says is meant to hurt. To twist and manipulate.

“I couldn’t do it,” Bucky whispers. Opens his eyes and raises them to Steve’s. “You wouldn’t have either.”

“Because I’m not weak.”

“It has nothing to do with weakness. Why haven’t you killed me?”

Of all the things that anyone’s asked him, said to him, requested of him, it’s that question that makes Steve react. It’s slight. Just the wisp of a wind that tickles the back of the neck on a hot summer’s night. But it’s there. A stillness in his breathing. A pull at his lips. A quick, unexpected blink.

It’s silent for a long while. Neither of them say another word. They only stare at each other. For a few heartbeats, Bucky’s sure he’s going to break away first. Unable to look into those eyes. He doesn’t though. He holds Steve’s gaze and Steve holds his. Until finally, Steve speaks.

“He… he won’t let me.”

A breath catches in Bucky’s throat. His heart skips a beat, he’s sure of it. Before he has even a glimmer of a moment to think on Steve’s words, Steve is sitting up and moving forward. A metal hand presses against Bucky’s chest and pushes him down. Back flat against the mattress. The Winter Soldier hovers over him. Pinning Bucky down. Mouth pressed right to his ear.

“Is that what you want to hear, Captain? That he’s in here with me somewhere? That the reason you’re still alive is out of some lingering affection that I haven’t beaten?” Steve sniggers and pushes his lips against Bucky’s neck. Then bites down. Bucky hisses and tries to jerk away. “Tell me about your time together. Did he touch you like this?” Steve’s hand snakes up Bucky’s shirt. “Did you get to have him the way you longed for it?”

“Steve…”

“Fair is fair, Captain America. I’ve answered your questions. Tell me.”

“Yes,” Bucky chokes out. Struggles under Steve’s weight only to have a metal hand wrap around his throat. Not tight enough to cut off breathing. A warning. Bucky forces himself to stay still. “Once. Before I left.”

Hips grind in Bucky’s and against all force of will, Bucky’s body trembles under Steve’s. Steve bites down again. This time hard enough to bruise. The weight on top of Bucky, the hand shoved against his chest, the fingers around his throat, the teeth buried into his neck, it’s all too much. There’s just too much pain. So much pain. He can’t take it. Bucky cries out.

And the Winter Soldier freezes.

The weight lifts off of Bucky. He eyes pop open to find Steve staring down at him. He looks horrified. Eyes wide and swimming with confusion. The fingers around Bucky’s neck slowly lift away and, much to Bucky’s surprise, Steve lays his hand gently at the side of his face.

Bucky’s skin feels too tight and yet he never wants Steve to move that hand away. The way it’s fixed so perfectly against his cheek. Like this is the way things should always be.

“Steve…”

“унимать,” Steve whispers to shut him up. Bucky listens.

Slowly, Steve begins to slip the hand under Bucky’s shirt back out. Every move is calculated. The slight shift as Steve moves to the side. The light caress of fingers against Bucky’s skin. The way the Winter Soldier lowers himself to lay down next to Captain America.

Steve’s arm glides over Bucky’s body and then pulls him in close. Bucky can feel himself already leaning into him. As if the Winter Soldier never even existed.

Bucky’s heart is pounding. Beating against his chest like it means to escape. He wouldn’t be surprised if it does. The room spins around him in a blurry whirl of colors. Bucky tries to keep from trembling, but he’s sure Steve can feel the quivers that run through him.

He and Steve are pressed together and Steve’s fingers gently move over the spot he bit. Like he’s trying to make up for the pain he caused. Bucky doesn’t know what’s happening. Can’t imagine what caused this sudden need in Steve to be close like this. All he knows is that he never wants it to go away.

They stay like that for a while. Everything is still around them. The room, the air, the world. Nothing exists outside these glass walls.

Not until Steve growls, “Get out.”

Bucky turns to look at Steve but he doesn’t get the chance before Steve is shoving him off of the bed.

“I said get out!”

Landing hard on the floor, Bucky glances up just in time to see Steve roll over and face the wall.

The alarms are going off. High-pitched and blaring and they jerk Bucky out of his sleep. JARVIS is saying things that make no sense to Bucky’s dazed ears. He’s been getting very little sleep lately. Being startled awake like this isn’t normally so confusing. But Bucky can’t piece together what’s happening. Next to him, Sam is already getting out of bed. He’s pulling his clothes on, telling Bucky to stay put.

Stay put? Why? Something is going on. If the alarms are going off Bucky should assemble with the rest of the Avengers. That’s protocol. Isn’t it?

Muscles acting on their own, Bucky starts to get out of bed. Like Sam, he quickly begins to dress. Until there’s a hand on his wrist trying to stop him.

“You need to stay here, Bucky,” Sam is insisting.

Bucky blinks at him. He rattles his head and just can’t imagine why Sam is so intent on leaving him behind.

“But… Sam…”

The alarms are going off. JARVIS is speaking. The warnings finally begin to break through the haze that is Bucky’s mind. JARVIS is talking about Cell Block A. The alarms are going off because of the Winter Soldier. The truth of what’s happening hits Bucky like a shot to the chest.

Steve has escaped.

Sam is right. This is too personal for Bucky. Going might endanger the whole team. He needs to stay behind.

Bucky continues dressing anyway. Suits up. He’s already lost Steve Rogers three times. Three times Steve has come back to him. In body at least. Bucky’s not going to lose him a fourth. No one is going to stop him from going after him.

The Winter Soldier doesn’t get far. The tracking device injected into his right arm sees to that. The rest of the Avengers catch up to him on the roof. Bucky and Sam arrive a few minutes after that. The others have him surrounded by the time they get there. They’ve made me sluggish. Bucky’s sure that’s the only reason they’ve caught up to him like this at all. Steve is right at the edge of the Tower. If they use his trigger word, he’s going to fall off the side. He’ll die. The Avengers are trying to keep that from happening. For now.

It’s pouring out. Rain coming down fast and hard in big, wet drops that puddle and soak through everything.

Iron Man has his weapons at the ready. Thor’s hammer is gripped tightly in his hand. The Black Widow has taken something of a stance, but she’s stiff. Hesitant even. Hawkeye is much further away. Up on a ledge with an arrow strung up and ready. The Hulk is the only one not there.

Natasha is trying to speak Steve. Palms out as if to show she means him no harm. That might be true. But it doesn’t mean that she won’t fight if she has to. She might love the Winter Soldier, but that doesn’t mean she’ll let him go without a fight.

There’s affection in Steve’s eyes as he listens to her. It’s slight, just a glimmer in the darkness, but it’s there.

“Пожалуйста, моя любовь,” she murmurs. Tasha gestures for him to step closer. Continues asking him to just come back with them. “приезжать. все нормально, обещаю.”

“малютка,” Steve whispers. Blinks through the water dripping down his face. “не в этот раз.”

Falcon has joined the others as Steve tells Tasha no. Jet pack powered up so he can take to the skies.

Bucky lingers behind. Stands back there while the rain just completely saturates him. He just can’t bring himself to go any further. Something is off. Steve might be slowed down because of the sedatives, but he’s actually stopped. He’s not running and he’s not fighting. He’s just standing there. Listening. Until he catches sight of Bucky.

“Ah,” he murmurs, water spraying from his mouth. “The good Captain America joins us. Tell me, Captain, what will you feel putting a bullet in your friend’s head?”

Bucky’s stomach feels like lead. He might actually be sick. Just the thought of it alone feels like the end of the world. Could Bucky possibly do it? Kill Steve Rogers? Maybe. If there were two bullets in the gun.

“Doesn’t have to come to that, Rogers,” Tony says. “You’re outnumbered and outgunned. Just come on back to your pretty little room and I won’t have to fry your ass.”

“Oh, I have no intentions on returning as your prisoner, Mr. Stark,” Steve replies. “How many of your friends will you be willing to watch die as you try to retain me again? There are only two ways this ends. Captain Barnes lets me go. Or Captain Barnes watches me die.”

“Steve…” Bucky takes one step closer. “Please, don’t make me do this.”

“Are you ready to say goodbye to your friend then, Captain?”

“Don’t listen to him, Bucky,” Sam says. “He’s just getting into your head. Make the call.”

He can’t. Bucky can’t make this call. It’s wrong to let the Winter Soldier escape. It’s wrong to kill Steve Rogers. Nothing in the world makes sense anymore. Then again, maybe it hasn’t since he woke up in a hospital bed in 1945 with Peggy Carter crying on one side of him and an empty bed on the other.

Steve takes a step backwards. One very slow, very calculated step that brings him dangerously close to slipping off the Tower. It makes everyone react. They tense even more when Steve raises his hand. A big piece of glass held in it. But he still doesn’t move in to attack. Makes no move to fight. Instead, Steve brings the glass to his arm. Pierces skin with the edge and rips into himself.

“Steve!” Bucky yells as the blood pours from the open wound. Spills down Steve’s hand and onto the rooftop.

Steve looks up and gives him a smirk as he digs a little deeper with the glass until he gets what he’s looking for. With one simple thrust of his wrist, he flicks something out of his arm. The tracking device.

“I’ve got the shot, Cap,” Hawkeye says. His voice singing softly through Bucky’s earpiece. A whisper seeking permission to kill his Stevie. “What do you want me to do?”

Bucky doesn’t answer. Doesn’t move. This can’t really be happening. No one can actually be asking him whether or not to kill Steve Rogers because the world will be better without him in it. Steve makes the world better. He does. He…

Did.

That’s… not Steve. The man sneering at him across the roof of the Avengers Tower will blood dripping down his arm and an icy cool gleam in his eyes isn’t Steve Rogers. That’s not the man who was too stupid to back down from a fight. That’s not the man who used to put newspaper in his shoes. Not the man who jumped on a grenade in basic. That’s no longer the world’s first Captain America who would have marched across it to make it a better place. That’s not his Stevie. He’s gone. Bucky’s lost him again.

Lightning strikes and lights up the sky. Glimmers around the Winter Soldier and silhouettes him in an eerie white glow. Thunder follows. A loud clap that shakes the building.

Chest so tight he can barely breathe, Bucky knows what he has to do. And a split second after he realizes it, the Winter Soldier knows it too.

“I’m sorry, Steve.” Bucky’s fighting back tears. “I’m sorry.”

“Perhaps we’ll meet again someday, Captain,” Steve says. “Somewhere only we know.”

This is our place forever, Stevie. Somewhere only we know.

Bucky’s blood runs cold. His heart stops. A breath catches in his throat. Hawkeye’s about to take the shot. Everything inside of Bucky just reacts.

The shield flies out of his hand. Slams right into Clint’s shoulder and knocks him down. It distracts the rest of the team just enough. Tony swears. Thor immediately flies over to help Clint back up. Tasha drops her stance. Sam yells Bucky’s name.

Smirking, Steve gives Bucky a lazy salute. Takes one final step. Right off the edge of the Tower.

“What the hell, Barnes!” Tony growls.

His suit flies him up. Sam’s wings burst free from his jet pack. The two of them take to the air to find Steve.

Left on the roof with Tasha, the both of them step to the edge. Right where Steve had been standing before he leapt. Together, they look over, even though they both know what they’re going to see.

“You’re gonna leave.”

They’re sitting on the roof of their building. It’s the spot Bucky should have checked first when he woke up to an empty place. He’d been sketching when Bucky found him, but the sketchpad is now sitting off to the side. Bucky caught a glimpse of what he was working on before he closed the book. A picture of them.

“Yeah, Steve,” Bucky agrees. His orders will come in later today. “I am.”

Not that he wants to. Sure, Bucky enlisted. It was the right thing to do. It’s what he father would have done. It’s what Steve wants to do and can’t. But Bucky doesn’t want to fight in a war. He wants to stay here. Stay with Steve.

“We were supposed to go together.”

That’s what Steve wanted. To ship off side by side. In a way, Bucky wants that too. With Steve by his side, Bucky feels like he can conquer the world. But the war is no place for Steve. Not with a body that doesn’t let him do all the things he wants to do. That makes everyone else look at him and just see a little, skinny guy instead of how huge the man inside really is.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Bucky lies. They know it’s a lie. Know Bucky might not come back at all.

“Are you scared?”

“Who me?” Bucky fakes a laugh. “Nah. Course not.”

It’s quiet for a moment until Steve lifts his chin and looks Bucky right in the eye.

“I am,” he whispers. “Don’t die, Bucky Barnes. Okay? You gotta stick around till I get there and we’ll win the war together.” When Bucky doesn’t answer, because the glands in his throat are swollen so much it hurts, Steve says, “It’s you and me, right? Till the end of the line. Just like you said.”

“Yeah.” Bucky squeezes the answer out of his throat. “Till the end of the line, pal.”

Steve nods. They’re still for a few moments. Just the two of them sitting on a shabby roof while the rest of the world goes on. A war waging on in Europe while a couple of punk kids find their own world high above the streets of Brooklyn.

When Steve leans closer to Bucky, Bucky’s not sure what to do, but he certainly never expected to find himself pressing his lips against Steve’s. Realizing what he’s done, Bucky goes to move again, only to have Steve kiss him back.

A moment Bucky had dreamed of, longed for for years, and it was happening now. Hours before he’d get his orders to where he’d be shipped off. A whole ocean away from Steve.

Steve tastes so good and Bucky ends up running his fingers through his hair to pull him in closer.

“You’re trembling,” Steve whispers. Sweat-soaked and hovered over Bucky. Pupils still dilated and breathing just beginning to slow.

“Yeah,” Bucky murmurs. Picks his head up and kisses Steve again. “I’ll be alright.”

“Bucky?”

He looks up at Steve. Gives him his full attention even though his body is still burning with what they’ve just done. Every inch of it tingling with life.

“Yeah?”

It looks like Steve has something to say. He’s got that look on his face. Millions of thoughts racing through his mind. But he doesn’t say any of them. Not one. He just lays his head back down upon Bucky’s chest. The way he’s done since they were kids.

Bucky wants to tell him how much he loves him. That, even if he dies overseas, this moment is worth his own death over and over.

“This is our place forever, Stevie,” Bucky whispers. Kisses the top of Steve’s head. “Somewhere only we know.”

The neighborhood has changed. All of it. That includes the old building. It’s been torn down and rebuilt. Made into some big, fancy office building. There’s a bar across the street and two different convenient stores and several restaurants.

On the roof, Bucky can see the top of the Brooklyn Bridge. It wasn’t in view back then. The building wasn’t high enough.

They didn’t catch Steve. Sam or Tony. Just like Bucky and Tasha knew they wouldn't. Steve had jumped onto a lower ledge and then leapt to the building across from him. Smashing through the windows and disappearing into the stormy night.

There had been screaming and arguing and demands for answers. Other than apologies, Bucky didn’t say anything. He couldn’t explain what he’d done. Just that he’d done it. Clint’s shoulder was bruised, but no permanent damage had been done. He gave Bucky a shrug and forgiveness was stipulated over a year’s worth of free coffee. After the initial shock over what happened, the rest of the team gave up on trying to figure out what changed Bucky’s mind. Slowly, their lives began to return to normal. Whatever normal is now.

For Bucky, that means coming here everyday since that night. Twelve days ago.

He would think that the Winter Soldier was just fucking with him again. Took some distant memory that still lingered in the mind that once belonged to Steve Rogers and used it against Bucky. But there was such conviction in his voice when he said it. He knew. Remembered. It wasn’t just a flash of something from the past. Steve remembers just like Bucky does. He has to.

Dusk settles over Brooklyn. The world below still bustles on. Moving to a new part of the day while Bucky remains still and stagnant in his.

Lightning another cigarette, Bucky rubs his eyes. He’s so tired. Sam is worried -- as indicated by the many, many texts he sent that have gone unanswered today. Bucky reads over them again. This is wrong to do to Sam -- the man who traipsed across countries with him trying to find Steve in the first place -- and he knows it. Eventually, Bucky need to come to terms with what’s happened. He’s been tricked. Again.

The Winter Soldier knew exactly what to say and how to say it.

Bucky pulls his phone out to respond to Sam. His fingers shake and it takes him several tries to type out his message.

I’m tired, Sammy. I’m so sorry. I wanna come home.

The phone is sitting in Bucky’s lap when it buzzes with Sam’s answer. Bucky can feel the tears gathering in his eyes as he reads it.

Sam: Come home, Cap. Your family is waiting for you.

There’s a very heavy, very real hesitation before Bucky hits send to his next reply. They’ve never said this to each other and maybe it’s wrong to say it this way, but Bucky has to. Not only does he owe Sam so much, maybe he owes it to himself to. To open up again. To let him in.

Bucky: I love you, Sam.

His heart feels too tight as he presses send. Bucky’s stomach actually spasms when the phone goes off again just a few seconds later.

Sam: I love you too, baby. Come back to me, okay?

Wiping his eyes dry, Bucky tells him he’s coming and then puts the phone away. He takes one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it away and pushing off the ground. Shadows splash over the roof. Stretching and expanding over somewhere only he and Steve know. Knew. Hiding it from the rest of the world. Bucky heads towards the door that will take him away from here. Forever.

Bucky reaches for the doorknob. Something behind him moves. He can see the shadow shift among all the others. Freezing, Bucky still has the knob clutched tightly in his grip as he slowly turns.

He doesn’t even have a chance to process anything. There’s a hand wrapped around his neck. Shoving him back against the door. He’s pinned there. A body pressed tightly against him. And a pair of cold, heartless eyes stare into his.

“Hello, Captain,” Steve growls. Leans in to place lips right at Bucky’s ear. “So good of you to come.”

“Hello, Steve,” Bucky replies. “Are you here to kill me?”

Steve doesn’t answer right away. He doesn’t move. Not an inch, and Bucky can still feel his warm breath hit the side of his face.

“I should kill you. It would make things much easier.”

“Then why haven’t you?”

“Believe me, I’ve tried,” he says. Just a matter-of-fact. Like trying to kill Bucky is just a normal act. “But I told you,” Steve murmurs. Soft and careful. “He… he won’t let me.” The hand around Bucky’s throat tightens for just a second as Steve whispers, “Bucky…”

Bucky sucks in a broken breath. Keeps the tears back. Because that right there -- that voice, the sweet, tender way his name rolled off those lips… -- that was Steve. That was his Stevie.

“Steve…”

Steve jerks his head away then. Reaches into the front pocket of Bucky’s pants and pulls out the pack of cigarettes. Without a word or glance in Bucky’s direction, he strolls over to the middle of the roof and just sits down. Takes out a cigarette and lights it.

It’s a strange thing to watch. Bucky’s never seen Steve smoke before. He couldn’t when he was little and he didn’t when he was big. But there he is. Right in front of Bucky, in their spot, smoking a cigarette.

Neither of them say anything for a minute or two. Bucky, slow and cautious, makes his way over to where Steve is seated and sits down. Steve doesn’t pay any attention to him, even if Bucky is hyper-aware of everything that Steve does. The way his arm moves to bring the cigarette to his lips. How his hand is perched comfortably on his own knee. The rise and fall of his chest.

When Steve does glance over at Bucky, he sucks on the end of the cigarette and then hands it to Bucky. Bucky takes it. His hand doesn’t tremble. He takes a few drags and then passes it back to Steve.

They go on like that -- passing the cigarette between them -- until there’s nothing left to smoke and Steve flicks it away. Then there’s nothing but their silence and the noises of the streets below them. The world that goes on and once again leave Bucky with Steve in a place that’s all their own.

“Do you… remember this place?” Bucky asks.

Steve’s eyes lift a fraction. Not quite towards Bucky, but they move somewhere in his direction.

“It’s different. Bigger. Cleaner. He used to come up here. He used to draw. And think. He thought about you a lot. Did you know that?”

“He… he did?”

The only answer he gets to that is a nod. Steve looks away and so does Bucky. Thinks of a time he knows and can only hope that maybe Steve does, too. Things were so much simpler then. They felt complicated, but, when looking back on it, they weren’t. Up here sat two boys who may have loved each other more than life itself and never said anything. Just a few words. Simple. It could have been so simple.

“What happens now?” Bucky whispers.

Steve is watching something off in the distance. Maybe the lights of the bridge. Maybe something Bucky can’t see at all.

“Now…” Steve sucks in a deep breath. “Now I leave. And you don’t follow this time. I don’t want to have to kill your friends.”

Something is different about the Winter Soldier. His voice isn’t cold. It’s not warm -- not like Steve’s -- but it’s not cold.

“Will you?” Bucky asks. He’s really not sure of the answer. “Will you kill them?”

“If you make me.”

Bucky believes that. That Steve really won’t hurt them if they don’t give him a reason to.

“You’re gonna leave,” Bucky says.

“Yes, Captain Barnes,” Steve agrees. “I am.”

A pain touches Bucky’s chest. They’re supposed to stick by each other no matter what. Best friends, brothers in arms, soul mates, lovers. Whatever they are, whatever they have been, whatever they will be. They’re supposed to stay together. Till the end of the line.

“And then what?” Bucky asks. “You disappear forever? Do I ever see you again?”

Steve looks at him. This time giving him his full attention and smiles as he picks himself off the ground. He holds a hand out to Bucky. Without even thinking about it, Bucky puts his hand in the metal one offered and Steve helps him to his feet.

“You’ll see me again,” Steve promises, shoving the cigarettes he took from Bucky into his own pocket. “And on that day either I’ll kill you or…”

He doesn’t complete that statement. Instead, he forcibly cuts it off and grinds his jaw. Like it angers him to think about.

“Or…?” Bucky presses. “Or what?”

“Or…” He smirks. “Or he will have won. I’m anxious to see how this plays out. I don’t give up all that easily.”

“No,” Bucky chuckles. He can’t help it. No one, not even all the evil, genius minds over at Hydra could take that away from Steve. “No, you don’t.”

Steve steps to the edge of the roof. Just like that night at the Tower and nothing like that night at the Tower at all. Something's about to end. Something else is about to begin. He turns to face Bucky.

“You owe me a pack of cigarettes,” Bucky tells him. A joke. Witty banter that makes another smile lift on Steve’s lips.

“Until next time, Captain,” Steve says before stepping off the roof.

Bucky looks over the edge just in time to see Steve climbing down the last few feet of the building and then disappearing into the shadows. Becoming a ghost story yet again.

“See ya ‘round, Steve,” Bucky whispers.

"Bucky!" Sam shouts. "Cut it out or I'm gonna let you go!"

Bucky starts laughing. He gets that threat at least a hundred times when they're up in the air together. Bucky can’t help it though. Can't help moving about and trying to see everything. There's something so exhilarating about soaring over the earth. A sense of freedom like no other. No wonder Sam was so dejected while he waited for his wings to be fixed.

They’re flying over the Atlantic, following a lead that came in this morning about Loki’s staff. The ship they’re headed for -- chartered by a Baron Wolfgang von Strucker -- has been reported several times for unusual activities.

For the past six months it’s what they’ve been doing. The Avengers have been scouring the world as they take down leftover Hydra bases in search of the staff left behind by Thor’s brother. If it falls into the wrong hands it can mean a world of trouble.

Bucky had been worried that after the night on the roof the trust they all had in him would be permanently damaged. It hasn’t been. Things were shaky in the beginning, but everyone slowly began to accept what had happened and put it behind them. It’s over. Done with. They work best as a team. All of them. A family. That’s what they are.

“There it is!” Sam calls out as the ship begins to come into view. “What’s our strategy?”

This is supposed to be a scouting mission. They’ll fly in. See what they can find and back out again. But, really, Tasha is much better at the whole spy thing.

“Don’t worry!” Bucky answers. “I have a plan!”

He can practically hear the eye roll as Sam scoffs.

“I’m not gonna like this plan, am I?”

“Nope!”

Sam, in fact, did not like the plan. Plans that involve a sudden downpour of bullets, random explosions, and devil may cry fleeing are not usually Sam’s cup of tea.

“This was not the plan at all!” Sam yells as he flies away to dodge the fires that tried to snatch him out of the air. “I’m gonna kill you, kid!”

“My plans always work!” Bucky shouts back as he runs towards the bow of the ship. “They just… go a little awry sometimes!”

Out of his peripheral, Bucky spots Sam zoom past him. Headed for his target and taking down a few enemies along the way.

“You ready, Buck?”

“Whenever you are!”

Bucky hits the little button on the controller Tony had designed for him. Seconds later, the ship is blowing up behind him and Bucky is leaping off the back of it. The ocean comes up fast below him. Right before he would slam into the water, a hand snags the back of his shirt and Bucky is lifted high into the air. Letting loose a howl of laughter as he soars up towards the sky.

“This was supposed to be recon!” Sam scolds as they fly away. Leaving a burning ship behind them. “Recon, Bucky!”

“And we got the intel!” Bucky answers. “Just a little collateral done on the way!”

Sam mumbles something about a little and then Bucky could hear the sounds of his laughter, too.

When they’re hovered over the Tower, Sam lets go of Bucky and Bucky rolls to his feet.

“Well aren’t you such a show off,” Sam grunts as he lands. “You’re so lucky I love you.”

“Ah, Sammy.” Bucky wraps an arm around Sam’s waist and kisses his cheek. “I love you, too.”

Bucky rests his head on Sam’s shoulder as they walk inside together. They’re still bickering over Bucky’s plan -- it worked didn’t it? -- when they’re greeted by JARVIS telling them to meet the rest of the team in Tony’s lab.

“That can’t be good,” Sam says. “Wonder what’s up.”

“Maybe it’s just Clint,” Bucky offers. “Again.”

It’s wishful thinking. They both know it. But things have been going so well. For the first time since waking from the ice, Bucky’s just felt good. Like he’s finally where he’s meant to be. Even with the lingering absence that pulls at his heart everyday.

“What’s up, guys?” Sam asks when they get to the lab.

The whole team is assembled around one of the tables. Computers are running all around them.

“Welcome back,” Tasha greets. “Heard you sunk a ship.”

Bucky shrugs. “It happens. What’s going on?”

“Found this on the coffee table in the common room,” Tony explains. Gestures to the big envelope that’s being scanned by JARVIS. “Don’t know where it came from. Someone breeched security. Got in completely undetected. JARVIS is running tests. Looking for anything dangerous.”

“Exciting, huh?” Clint smirks. “It’s been kinda quiet around here since…” He quickly glances away from Bucky. “Uh… y’know…”

“Nice, Barton,” Tasha grunts. Punches him in the arm. “Real subtle.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything to that. He’s very aware that the others avoid talking about what happened around him. Any mention of it at all. He can’t really blame them either. The few times it’s been brought up in his presence, Bucky’s felt himself grow pale and his stomach turned and he’s excused himself.

There are nights he wakes up screaming. Body soaked in a cold sweat and heart slamming against his chest. Sometimes it takes a good thirty minutes before he calms down. Sam gives what help he can. Talks to him, soothes him, holds him -- Bucky does the same for Sam when he wakes from dreams of Riley.

A hand touches his back, but Bucky moves forward. Closer to the table and moves the attention off of him.

“Does it say anything?”

“Yeah actually,” Bruce says. “It’s addressed to you.”

“Me?”

The package is upside down from Bucky’s view. That doesn’t stop his heart from squeezing. The breath from catching in his throat.

It may have been over seventy years, but Bucky knows that handwriting. Etched into his soul forever.

Before JARVIS can finish, before the others even have a chance to realize what’s happening, Bucky is grabbing the package and sprinting from the lab. Tony calls after him. Someone goes to follow, but, surprisingly, Thor stops them. Tells everyone Bucky knows what he’s doing.

Bucky hopes he’s right as he closes his bedroom door behind him. The package doesn’t weigh all that much but it feels heavy in his hands. It only says one things across the front. Captain Barnes, but he knows that’s Steve’s handwriting.

The sound the package makes when Bucky tears the seal off echos through his ears. He thinks just a split second after reaching into it that he might be reaching into a bed of scorpions. Steve may have promised not to hurt them, but…

Bucky’s fingers touch paper. He pulls it out and needs to sit down on the edge of the bed. He’s so lightheaded that he almost misses. On the page he’s taken out is a sketch. It’s of him and Sam. Flying together. Steve’s written something on the bottom of the page.

You look happy. He likes it when you’re happy.

There’s more sketches in there. One of the city skyline. But not today’s skyline. It’s from when they were kids. There’s one of the Cyclone. The last one is the rooftop. Of Steve and Bucky. Steve when he was small. They’re lying together. Steve’s head on Bucky’s chest. Under that is another caption.

Somewhere only we know.

“It’s from him, isn’t it?”

Bucky glances up. Sees Sam standing in the doorway. He didn’t even hear the door open. He looks back down at the papers in his hands. A few drops of moisture seeping into them. Tears.

“Yeah,” Bucky whispers. He lifts the one of him and Sam. “Apparently he’s seen us.”

Sam takes it from him and looks at it for quite some time. Appears as though he’s running things over in his head.

“You think he’s jealous?”

It might just be a joke, but Bucky can see the worry in Sam’s eyes. Bucky reaches for his hand. Laces their fingers.

“No need. I have enough room to love you both.” He shrugs a shoulder. “If that’s okay with you.”

Smiling, Sam joins Bucky on the bed. Sam wraps an arm around his waist and kisses the knuckles that are still in his hand.

“You still think he’s gonna come back?”

There’s one more thing in the package. Bucky reaches in for it. Holds the pack of cigarettes between his fingers.

“Yeah. I do.”

Because Steve Rogers always comes back to Bucky Barnes. No matter how many times Bucky loses him.