Bucky just stares out of the window most days.

Steve has to make sure she stays out of view from the street, because the last thing the blond needs is SHIELD here, trying to take her away. He wonders whether or not he can even call them SHIELD anymore. Even said it himself, he recalls, "It all goes." Fury is gone too, yet what's left of SHIELD is thriving. Tony Stark made sure of that. The new SHIELD headquarters is basically Avengers Tower - previously Stark Tower - but what does Steve know? He's rarely there anyway, and even if it was there at some point, it's very possible it has already been moved. Tony gets things done rather quickly Steve has learned, which the super soldier supposes is because not only is Stark naturally innovative and extremely tenacious, but he's also rich. The other Avengers, except Tony, are rarely there, too. Sometimes Steve has to remind himself that they all have separate lives, even though he feels like he is the only one dealing with real pressing matters outside of working. He uses the word 'working' very loosely, because since SHIELD has fallen so to speak, he doesn't really get called in for missions. Which he's very thankful for since Bucky needs all the help she can get, and it would be even harder to juggle his roles as a caretaker, friend, and superhero if he was still an actual active agent.

There has been only one occasion were Bucky has had a flashback to Steve's knowledge, and it didn't go well. Thankfully though, he was home at the time, and able to observe the process. Even if it was painful to watch.

She was holding a glass filled with water when it happened, following him to the living room. Again, he stretches that word, because it barely counts as 'space' between the two of them. But it's more room then the first few hotel rooms they have stayed at. It is necessary, Steve had reminded himself. It's not like he can just take Bucky to his apartment, it'd be too dangerous. So, they have to settle for rundown buildings, fake identities, and dusty air until further notice.

When he heard the crash of the glass, he whipped around so fast he almost fell onto his face, and then proceeded to barely escape the wrath of the wall before he was able to figure why Bucky had dropped her drink. His wide eyes scanned her, and then they flickered back and forth from her and the broken glass on the floor. Somewhere in his mind, Steve knew that there was also spilled water on the floor, but at that moment he was more worried about the brunette. "Bucky?" he had asked worryingly after she just kept staring straight ahead of herself.

She didn't answer, and Steve found himself cleaning up the mess while he waited for her to come back to the real world. Steve also remembers the glossed, haunted look she had in her eyes and the blond wondered if staring like that would damage her eyes or not, because Bucky was not blinking.

An hour had passed before she cried out - showing more emotion than she had in a while - and fell to the floor. Instantly, the super soldier was beside her and trying to pull her close. Steve was rewarded with a fist to his face, but it wasn't her metal arm - and rather halfhearted, Steve dared to add - so he recovered quickly. After that she didn't struggle anymore, and accepted the blond's comfort.

Later Bucky would tell him that she remembered something. When she did, Steve almost smiled, but then he realized the ex-Hydra agent was referring to what the blond has chopped up to be a weird PTSD freak out.

Steve decided to assume it wasn't a good memory.

They started to come to her in her dreams after that, and Bucky started to wake up not remembering anything. Steve wanted to call that progress - the fact she was remembering something, even though he had to wait until she was lucid again - but it was hard to view it as a good thing when most nights he awoke to a knife pressed to his neck.

He rarely defeats her when she's like that - the brunette just has too much of an advantage most of the time - but, on occasion, she rolls over and stops fighting him. It's terrifying when she is like that, in her... 'Winter Soldier Mode' as Steve calls it in his head. He'd never say it aloud.

Bucky has that same glossy look in her eyes during those times, but it's anger, usually. But again, she throws him a curve ball, and once and a while it's haunted and sad and she mutters things under her breath in Russian. Things like "стоп," and "Нет," and "помогите."

Steve needs to learn Russian.

It seemed that that was all Bucky knew how to do anymore, throw him curve balls. Two days later Bucky asked him for a calendar - her first real sentence towards him in a month - and of course he got her one. It was small, the size of his palm, but it was th only kind he could get without attracting too much attention. He was lucky the gas station he got it at even had it, because he knew better than walking into a large store like Target or Walmart. He was famous in a sense, and that's another thing he can not afford to deal with currently.

It was in July, and he had lost track of how long he had been running around the country with Bucky, when she said something that literally almost made him drive off of the road.

"Your birthday is tomorrow."

It wasn't even a question, she stated it. Bucky was so sure about it with her nose in that damn calendar, and Steve swore he saw the edge of her lips curved smugly. "...What?" the blond barely choked out, not even noticing the fact he had stopped in the middle of road. Luckily they were somewhere in Arizona, and the desert path was only occupied by them.

"Tomorrow is July 4th; you were born on July 4th." Steve had simply gaped at her, his mouth opening and closing a lot like a fish's, and he wondered if for some weird reason his birthday was printed on that calender. The blond really hoped that wasn't the case. Because Bucky isn't the only one who needs this, who needs her to remember.

She finally met his gaze, no identifiable emotion on her face. "You were born on July 4th, Steve," Bucky stated as if he was the amnesiac. "I used to tell you the fireworks were just for you," she had added like an afterthought. Steve dared to hope in that moment, and pressed on.

He had asked her softly, as if she was a timid deer, "Do you know what year?" His heart dropped when she shook her head. But, Steve supposed, that it was better than nothing.

This was progress.