AN: When I saw CA: TWS, I completely freaked out when I saw that Bucky was the Winter Soldier and it elected more then a few gasps from people in the theater. My dad gasped. I don't know if I'm the only one who fangirled when I saw Sebastian Stan's hair long-it looks so good that way. Oh, and I'm making Bucky's eyes stormy gray. They turn slate gray whenever he's angry or upset, like most people's eyes darken/lighten when they feel strong negative/positive emotions. Also, Natasha does come with them. So yeah. Anyways, enjoy!

Bucky walked into the Smithsonian, his hands tucked into his jacket's pockets. Seeing all the people around made him slightly nauseous and he fought to keep his breathing normal to prevent a panic attack: usually when there were this many people around they wanted to harm him or they were his targets, even the kids. His metal arm whirled in response to his emotions and he had to fight down the instinct to kill every single person in the room.

Bucky shook his head, making his shoulder long brown hair move slightly under the cap. Okay, he thought, this is the only way I'll find out if what the mission-Steve-said is true.

If what Steve said was true, then Bucky would pursue them. He would find them and then beg Steve to take him back, teach him who he was. He didn't care if the green eyed redhead and the winged man didn't trust him; he'd earn their trust, learn who he was.

The whirl of his arm brought the attention of a security guard to him. Bucky stiffened as the guard walked over to him. "Do you have a weapon?" The guard said.

"No," Bucky said, his voice raspy from hardly using it.

The guard tilted his head. "You look familiar," he said. "Come with me. I'm taking you to the guard's office."

Maybe the mission-STEVE-was right, Bucky thought.

The guard led the way, and Bucky followed, tense and ready to fight for his life, his hands still in the pockets of his jacket. Looking around, he saw all the different families and exhibits in the museum. Because he didn't know where it was, he looked around for signs leading to the Captain America exhibit. Finally he found one, pointing to a hallway down his right. Directly underneath it was an Under Construction sign, and he electively decided to ignore it. Bucky glanced to see if the guard was looking. He was still in front of him, jabbering away about nothing.

"I thought you had a weapon on you, you see, 'cause of that whirl-"

Bucky stopped walking and watched the guard for 12 seconds. When he was sure the guard wouldn't turn, he began walking towards the hallway and then broke out into a swift trot, making sure to put distance between him and the guard. When he was far enough, he broke into a run, going at full speed down the long and strangely empty hallway. Winter registered that this might be a trap; Bucky pushed to know the truth.

I have to know who I am. I have to. What HYDRA was doing to me, making me murder all those innocent people wasn't right. It's time I make my own decisions.

Bucky skid to a stop just before the hallway opened up into the room that would decide his fate, peeking his head around a corner while pressing his back to the wall-he did it automatically, as part of his training as Winter. There were people milling around the exhibit and he saw something that made him stop breathing and gasp for air: the see-through glass/plastic wall detailing him. Or rather, who he had been.

Bucky pressed his back to the wall, took his cap off, and pressed his flesh hand to his mouth, biting on it to muffle his scream. His metal hand buried itself in his long, shoulder length brown locks and he leaned against the wall heavily. Steve had been right.

Bucky took his hand off his mouth and focused on his breathing. It was then he realized there were tears going down his face. He wiped them away with the back of his metal hand and bit his lip to hide the sob that threated to tear out of his throat. Steve was right, oh god, he was right, I am a horrible person… maybe I should just end it now.

No. NO. I have to find out who I was and see if I could become that person again. Bucky breathed to keep himself from having a panic attack and continued this until he believed he was calm. Taking another deep breath with his left hand on his chest, he tucked his hands into his jeans' pockets and rounded the corner. Heading straight to the wall, he read it. Sergeant James "Bucky" Buchanan Barnes…

Bucky was near tears by the time he finished it…died in 1944 after falling off Zola's train during a mission, and is greatly missed by his best friend Steve Rogers.

Bucky turned around from the wall and covered his mouth with his metal hand, striding away at a swift trot. Tears were pricking at his stormy gray eyes, and he allowed some to fall. He returned to the wall that he had been at, rested his back against it, and sobbed silently. Oh god oh god what have I done what have I done I should have ended my life with the knife I kept at my belt that day to spare him this pain but they might've found a way to bring me back with all their weird technology oh god Stevie I'm so sorry what have I done to you you thought I died and then I came back and your world shattered… Bucky's panicked voice repeated itself in his head like a mantra.

When he was done, he took a deep breath, clenched his hand around the knife handle that was in the pocket of his cargo pants, and leaned his head against the wall. Bucky wiped his eyes on his glove and walked out, going out of the museum.

He paused at the step and looked out from the entrance of the Smithsonian. The sun was setting to his left, him being north and the sun being west. In front of him was the Andrew W. Mellon Auditorium. Between those two streets was Constitution Avenue. And right in front of both the Auditorium and the Ave were 3 people.

There a woman with shoulder length fiery red hair, pale skin, and green eyes, who was wearing a black and gray horizontally striped hoodie with a light brown leather jacket on top, dark wash jeggings, and sneaker wedges. There was a man with dark skin, close shaven black hair, a groomed beard, and dark brown eyes who had on a black leather jacket with a dark green shirt, as well as shades around the collar of the shirt, jeans, and running shoes. And last but not least, there was a man who had short blond hair and bright blue eyes, wearing a dark blue hoodie, sweatpants, and sneakers. These three people were Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson and Steven Grant Rogers.

Holy shit. He was in trouble. Bucky turned to the west, running to the end of the steps, then bunched up his legs so hard the muscles hurt while still running. Then he let his legs release. People screamed. His run powered jump sent him from the end of the stairs, let him soar over the grass and the fence, and land on the block facing west. He barrel rolled on his shoulder and then came up with his metal fingers splayed. Taking a moment to breathe, he glanced over his shoulder and saw the three chasing him. Steve was catching up fast. But Sam and Nat were tiring rapidly. He saw Nat stop, leaning over on her knees and pant. Sam downright collapsed. He got up from his crouch and poured on the speed.

They both passed a car that was playing loud music:

We're up all night to get Bucky
We're up all night to get Bucky
We're up all night to get Bucky
We're up all night to get Bucky

Of course we all know how the song goes. But that was the way it sounded in their minds. Steve chased Bucky down the street. The latter ducked into a shop, went through it, startling the people inside, and out the back door. He saw it led to an alley. And the throwing open of the door proved that Steve was right behind him. He was trapped.

"Bucky?" came Steve's tentative voice.

"Yeah, punk?"

It was so automatic Bucky didn't know where it had come from. In front of him, Steve looked hopeful. "Bucky, please come back with us."

Bucky remembered what he had strived to do in the museum, than remembered all the people he had killed. "I can't. I'll just put you in danger. I'm an assassin, Steve. And a wanted one at that. I used to work for HYDRA. How long do you think it'll be 'till they catch me, and make me work for them again?"

"We can prevent that, Buck," said Steve's soothing voice. He wanted to lean into the man the voice belonged to. "And I've got some bad news. The remains of S.H.I.E.L.D. are after you."

Bucky laughed humorlessly. "So there's three different groups after me. HYDRA, S.H.I.E.L.D., and the U.S. government. That's just great," he said sarcastically. He turned to Steve, his expression sad. "I don't want to put you in any more danger, Stevie. Forgive me."

Missing Steve's questioning look as he turned his back on him, Bucky bit his lip and then clenched his bionic arm in a fist. Whirling around, he punched Steve in the jaw, than scrambled up the fire escape. Looking back at Steve, he said, "I love ya punk. But I need to keep you safe."

And he went up the fire escape and onto the roof of the building, trying to ignore Steve's howls of come back.

"Damn he's fast," Sam said. All three of them were on the couch in Sam's living room, having walked there. They were panting and out of breath. "You were right about him being at the Smithsonian. But we ran all the way there. No wonder we collapsed."

"Tell me about it," Nat said. "At least he's not trying to kill us. But surely he must be getting something to hold on to, something from the 40's, like you got your uniform…"

Steve gasped and jumped up, to the astonishment of the soldier and the spy. "That's it! Guys, stay here, I'm gonna bring him back!" he said, running out the door and grabbing his shield on the way.

Nat and Sam looked at each other. "I think he's got this in the bag," Nat said. "I'll make popcorn."

Bucky snuck into the Smithsonian's Captain America exhibit, headed straight for the mannequin with his gear on it. But he was looking for one thing in particular. Getting up on the platform, he got behind the mannequin and got the dog tags from around its neck. He removed his cap and put the dog tags around his own neck; they fit perfectly, shining in the dull light of the museum. Bucky clenched a hand around the dog tags and then put them in his shirt, putting his cap back on. The tags had instantly become a precious item.

He turned and was about to walk from the exhibit, going down the hallway he had come that day, when he nearly had a heart attack. Steve was standing right there, shield and all. "Bucky," he said.

"Steve," Bucky responded, walking down the steps. "How did you find me?"

"I thought about you," Steve responded, "and realized this was where you'd be. Can you please come with us?"

This statement made Bucky look around. He closed his eyes, letting his hearing take over. He didn't hear anything else except he and Steve's breathing. Opening his eyes, he focused them on Steve. "I can't," he said, remembering earlier. "All of them are after me, you work for S.H.I.E.L.D., they could be tracking you and it could lead to me. Or the other way around, except with HYDRA."

"If it makes you feel any better, HYDRA and the U.S. government are after us too."

This made Bucky pause. "Really?" he asked, turning around. Steve nodded, and Bucky saw his left hand was extended.

"Please Buck," he said, "please come with us."

Bucky stood at the top of the stairs, worrying his lower lip. He remembered his mental statement from earlier: he would find them and then beg Steve to take him back, teach him who he was. Now was his chance.

Descending down the steps, Bucky took Steve's left hand in his and said, "Okay. I'll go with you."

A grin broke out on Steve's face and seconds later Steve pulled him forward, enveloping him in a hug. Bucky went still, his face pressed into Steve's shoulder. Steve, who has taken off the baseball cap and was now stroking Bucky's long brown locks. Bucky relaxed into the embrace and felt his eyes closing, and leaned into Steve heavily.