Author Note: This takes place in the MCU about a year after Captain America: Civil War. Spoilers for Captain America: Civil War

First Night

The clock read 3AM when Steve heard the phone ring. Half awake, he reached for the burner phone he kept for emergencies, and flipped it open. "Tony?"

"No," the caller replied flatly. "Steve, it's me."

Steve was fully awake. "Bucky?" He nearly dropped the phone in his surprise. "Is everything alright?"

"No. I'm fine, but don't have time to talk. You need to meet me at the rendezvous point."

"Ok, give me 6 hours," Steve said. He stretched and started looking for his pants.

"I might not be able to wait. I'll call again if it's compromised." The line went dead.

Steve put on his clothes and went to Sharon's room. He knocked, but there was no response. Usually, he would never enter uninvited, but time was a factor. He opened the door and turned on the light. Sharon rolled over, but didn't wake up.

"Sharon," he called. No response. He reached down and shook her foot.

"It's 3AM," she mumbled into her pillow.

"Wake up, I have an emergency." Sharon sat up.

"What?" she yawned.

"Bucky just called." Sharon was suddenly awake.

"I thought you said he was," she paused and rubbed her eyes. "You actually didn't say where he was."

"I thought the fewer who knew, the better," Steve said. Natasha was starting to rub off on him. "He was in Wakanda, in cryostasis."

"Why isn't he still there?" Sharon yawned.

"I don't know," Steve said. "I have to go get him. If I'm not back in 24 hours, something went wrong."

"We're not going with you?" Sharon asked, surprised.

Steve shook his head. "It sounded like he had to leave in a hurry. I don't know what condition he's in and I don't want him getting spooked."

Sharon grabbed Steve's shoulder and kissed him. "Be careful."

"I'll try."

Sharon lay back down and closed her eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow night, though if you actually take 24 hours, I might be asleep."

Steve sat down in the café and opened his laptop. He searched for any news of an attack on Wakanda. As he expected, nothing came up. If there was an incident that prompted King T'Challa to evacuate Bucky, it was probably off the radar.

He sipped his latte, noticing that the barista had drawn a heart in the foam. He felt silly ordering these, but they tasted a lot better than coffee had when he was younger. It had always been too bitter for his taste, but Bucky had loved it. Every morning in the Army he would bring both of them a cup of black coffee. Steve only managed to drink a little bit of it and Bucky would finish the rest. Nat had introduced him to the new coffee trends and Steve had to admit that adding a lot of milk helped.

A man in a baseball cap and a dark jacket sat down at the table beside him. "Anyone sitting here?"

"All yours pal," Steve said without looking. He pretended to type on the computer and Bucky opened a newspaper.

"You have any trouble?"

"Not much," Bucky said. "Nothing that followed me here anyway." He looked over at Steve's cup. "What are you drinking?"

"Café latte. You should try it."

"I'll stick to black coffee," Bucky said. "They put flavors in it now. Have you tried Hazelnut?"

Steve laughed. "Yeah, they can add flavors to a latte too."

"And they put chocolate in everything," Bucky said with a hint of excitement. "The girl up there talked me into a chocolate caramel cheesecake."

"You know, if you keep eating like that you're going to get fat," Steve teased him.

Bucky scooped up a large bite of cheesecake. "I'm willing to take that risk."

Steve smiled. Bucky seemed to be adjusting to modern culture. "When you finish your coffee, the car is parked one street over. You go left, I'll go right, circle the block, it's a dark blue Ford Focus."

Bucky folded the newspaper and laid it flat on the table to focus on his cheesecake. "So, whatever happened with that girl?"

"Her name is Sharon, and we're still together," Steve said. "Going on a year now. We're actually staying at her place."

"We?" Bucky asked around a mouthful of cheesecake.

"The team. You met them all in Leipzig. Sam, Wanda, Scott, Natasha."

"Was Scott the arrow guy?"

"No, that's Clint. Scott's the ant guy. Clint's at home with his family, but you'll see him around."

"Natasha, was-"

"The redhead. You've actually met her and Sam before in DC."

Bucky put down the fork and put a hand on his coffee cup. "Are they ok with this?" He sounded nervous.

"You called at 3AM. I didn't have time to tell them. But if we can learn to work with the Hulk, we can find a place for you." Steve hoped that was true.

"Is that the green guy who destroyed Johannesburg?"

"Yeah, he was being mind controlled at the time."

"I can relate," Bucky said. He finished his cheesecake and washed it down with the rest of his coffee. Steve finished his latte.

"Ok, I'll meet you at the car, wait a minute before you leave." Steve closed his laptop and left the shop. As he turned the corner, he caught the reflection of several armed men in a window across the street. He doubled backed and caught Bucky just as he was leaving the shop.

"Plan B," he said, falling into step beside Bucky.

"What's plan B?" Bucky asked. Steve could see his muscles tensing, ready to move.

"Try not to kill anyone. We might have to fight our way out of this." Steve and Bucky walked quickly through the streets away from the car. "There's a subway station one block ahead."

Bucky caught his arm. "Which will be crawling with police because they'll expect us to go that direction." Steve gave him a curious look.

"Infiltration was never really your thing, Steve," Bucky asserted.

"Point taken." Steve conceded. "So what do we do?"

Bucky looked across the street. "We're taking the bus." They ran for the bus which had just stopped at the corner. Steve handed the driver a five.

"No change," the driver said.

"Keep it," Steve told him. He and Bucky took a couple of seats near the exit. He looked up at the route map. "Where does this go?"

"Doesn't matter we just need to get out of this area," Bucky said.

"Who's extracting who here?"

"I was on the run for two years. You've been staying at your girlfriend's house," Bucky replied.

"I should have brought Natasha."

"I still can't place her," Bucky said.

Steve laughed. "That going to irritate her. You shot her, twice."

"I've shot a lot of people twice."

"Two separate encounters."

Bucky frowned. "Ok, that's narrows it down a lot."

Steve looked at the route map. "So what's our next move?"

"Sharon's place is outside Baltimore."

"We still have to get out of Brooklyn. Do you have enough money for a cab to New Jersey? We can catch the train there."

Steve laughed. "Remember the time we took the ferry out to see the Statue of Liberty, but we got on the wrong ferry going home and ended up in New Jersey?"

Bucky laughed. "Your mom was so angry with you."

Steve shook his head. "No, you're thinking of something else. This was after high school."

Bucky looked confused for a moment. "She'd already died," he said. His face lit up. "My mom angry."

"I thought she'd never stop yelling at us," Steve chuckled.

"Us?" Bucky balked. "The whole thing was your fault, but she yelled at me because you'd just lost your mom."

Steve laughed. "Oh yeah. The ferry was leaving and I forgot to check which one it was. She really laid into you when we got back."

Bucky punched him in the arm. "You owe me for that."

"Fine. How about I give you a place to stay and I'll just make you shine my shoes, maybe do my laundry."

"Joke's on you pal, I never figured out how to use a washing machine."

It was late when Steve and Bucky returned to Sharon's house. The living room light was still on and Steve could hear the TV. He opened the door quietly so as not to startle anyone.

"Sharon? Sam?" He turned to Bucky. "Wait in the kitchen, I'll get everyone."

In the living room, Sam was just getting up to greet him and Sharon was curled up on the couch asleep. Steve shook her gently.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Midnight," Steve said, giving her a kiss. "Sorry, we're late."

"You should be," Natasha said. "There is nothing on TV this time of night."

Steve chuckled. "I'll try to get home before the reruns start next time."

"Man, you said 10," Sam chastised him.

"We had some car trouble," Steve joked.

"Who gets to go back for it?" Natasha asked.

Sharon sighed. "Where did you leave it?"

"Brooklyn."

Sam rubbed his neck. "I guess I'll be flying to Brooklyn." He nudged Scott with his foot. "Wake up Tic-Tac."

Scott jolted awake. "I'm up."

"Is he here?" Wanda asked.

Steve nodded. "I had him wait in the kitchen."

"That's fine, I'm going to need beer for this," Sam said.

"I know this is a bit awkward, but thank you guys," Steve said.

"You didn't give us much of a choice," Natasha said.

They followed Steve into the kitchen. Sam went directly to the fridge. "Who needs a beer?"

"I'll take one," Scott yawned.

"You drink beer?" Sam asked Bucky.

"I used to," he replied, taking the bottle.

"Anyone else?" Sharon and Natasha accepted one but Wanda declined.

The room was silent for a minute. Bucky frowned, studying Natasha. "I thought you were with the other side."

"I'm flexible."

"So did they fix your head?" Sam asked.

"Bucky was in Wakanda in cryostasis," Steve explained. "They woke him up to fix his arm, but before they could try anything psychological, Wakanda was attacked. It wasn't safe for him to stay there."

"So you're still a HYDRA puppet," Sam said.

"Sam," Steve warned him.

"And you're still ugly," Bucky retorted. Natasha nearly snorted beer out of her nose.

"I'm sorry for putting everyone in this situation," Steve said. "Especially without telling you first, but the safest place for him is here. At least I know we can trust everyone in this room."

"We're on the run, what's one more fugitive," Scott shrugged.

Sam looked around. "So am I the only one who has a problem with this?"

"No, but Steve's right," Natasha admitted. "This is the safest place. I'm not thrilled about it. He did shoot me twice. "

Bucky gave her a confused look. "What was the second time?"

"DC, shoulder," Natasha said with a smirk. "Which time do you remember?"

Bucky frowned for a moment. "Ok, what was the first time?"

Natasha flashed him a teasing smile. "Let me know when you remember."

"I'd rather have him back in Wakanda too," Steve admitted. "But that's no longer an option. What's the alternative?"

"Turn him in?" Sam suggested.

"That option ends with him in the RAFT," Sharon said.

"That option ends with all of us in the RAFT," Natasha said.

"Odessa, nuclear engineer," Bucky said.

Natasha nodded. "Left a scar but it was a hell of a shot."

"I wouldn't do this if I thought there was another way, Sam," Steve assured him. "If he turns himself in they're just going to lock him away for the rest of his life, or worse, try to use him again."

"Running out of options is what got us here," Sam pointed out.

"I'm not suggesting we take him in the field with us," Steve said.

"Well let's not rule anything out," Natasha said. "He's pretty good in a fight."

"Until someone gets their hands on that book," Sam said.

"It's with the CIA," Sharon said.

"I trust the CIA about as far as I can throw them, and Zemo has the damn phrase memorized," Sam reminded her.

"Zemo is in jail," Steve said.

"So were we," Sam reminded him.

"I'm just saying let's keep our options open," Natasha said. "We don't have to decide anything tonight."

"You want to take Total Recall there into a fight, be my guest, but that's on you!"

The sharp clink of glass shattering halted the argument. Bucky let out a frustrated yell, clutching his head in his hand. Glass shards covered his metal hand. He rattled off a string of words in Russian that had Natasha looking stunned.

"I don't like this either, it's goddamn nightmare for me!" he growled. "I'd rather be locked up in Wakanda than sitting here wondering if Zemo is going to break out or if there's another goddamn book somewhere. You don't trust me, well I don't either, but this is my only fucking option."

The group was silent. Scott raised his hand. "Again, I'm totally cool with this."

Sharon handed Bucky a towel. "Why don't we all go to bed and discuss this in the morning like rational, well rested people."

Everyone grumbled a bit but headed slowly off to their rooms.

"Come on upstairs," Sharon said to Bucky. "I'll get you settled. We're a little short on space, so you'll have to room with Steve."

Sharon led Bucky and Steve upstairs and opened the closet. She took out a set of blankets and a pillow, and handed them to Bucky. "You'll have to sleep on the floor until we can figure something out."

"It's ok, I've slept on worse," Bucky said.

"We'll be fine," Steve assured her. "We spent a couple weeks marching through the Alps. If he can sleep there, the floor should feel like a down mattress."

"Goodnight," Sharon said. Steve gave her a quick kiss and led Bucky down the hall to their room.

Bucky laid the blankets on the floor beside the bed. "Try not to step on me in the morning."

"That happened one time," Steve said. He couldn't help but smile at the memory. Bucky took off his boots for probably the first time in days and settled on the floor. Steve turned off the lights and settled in the bed.

"Bucky," he said after a while.

"Yeah?" Bucky mumbled, already half asleep.

"It's good to have you back."

"I'll be happier about it if you let me go to sleep," Bucky muttered,

Steve laughed. "Jerk."

"Punk."

Bucky awoke suddenly. His mind was racing and he was shaking. He couldn't remember the dream, but he knew what it had been about. It was always the same thing. Images came flooding back to him, none of them from the same mission, but all of the Winter Soldier. Howard Stark, the freezing tube, Moscow, Washington DC, a diplomat's wife, terrified crowds running after a sniper took out a politician at a rally.

Gasping for air, he went to the kitchen for a glass of water. His real hand trembled as he tried to fill the glass. He switched it to his metal hand, but his grip broke the glass. He slammed a fist against the counter top and sank down to the floor, his breathing still fast and heavy. The sound of running water assaulted his ears and images of a bathtub flooded his mind.

The faucet had been running as he pushed the woman's head under and held it until she stopped struggling. Her panicked thrashing had splashed water all over the floor. It had soaked into his clothes as he knelt beside the tub, warm and smelling of lavender. She had been an MI6 agent or CIA or SHIELD, he couldn't quite remember. On his way out, he had picked up a briefcase containing some unknown secret. He never knew the reason for her death, only how she had died.

Behind him, the water stopped. The last few drops hit the sink like a pounding drum.

"Bucky?"

Bucky felt his breathing start to slow. He was safe. He was with friends. Steve was there. He was safe.

"What is it?" Steve asked.

For a heartbeat, Bucky considered lying. It had always been his job to look out for Steve, even when Steve didn't realize he needed it. Somewhere, during their years at war and the long sleep in between, things had changed. There was so much in his friend that was still innocent, but sometimes he actually seemed 100. Steve was there to help him. This was the man who had fought his way behind enemy lines to rescue him from a HYDRA research base. This was his best friend, the only family he had left.

"I can't shut it out," Bucky said finally in a strangled voice. "I used to think not remembering my name was the bad part, but I think remembering it all is worse."

Steve sat down on the floor beside him. His presence was soothing, strong and quiet. He was an anchor in the storm, but the storm still raged in his mind.

"They're all in there," Bucky whispered. "All the screams, begging, all the blood."

"None of that is your fault," Steve said softly.

"Doesn't make it go away," Bucky said, failing to keep the pain out of his voice. Steve took a deep breath. Bucky could see how much it hurt Steve to hear him say that, but it was difficult to accept that he wasn't responsible when he could still feel the blood on his hands.

"You know, when I came out of the ice, I couldn't sleep for weeks," Steve confessed. "I'd drift off and then I'd hear a car horn and think I was under attack. You get used to it."

Bucky looked at his metal arm. He could feel a lump in his throat. "I don't want to get used to it. All those years, I never felt anything for them. I was numb, like I was never really unfrozen. I feel like the only thing separating me from the Winter Soldier are the nightmares."

Steve grew quiet. Bucky could hear the unspoken assurances that he was innocent, that things would get better. He didn't want to hear that again. He knew those words by heart, but still couldn't bring himself to feel them.

"I should have looked for you," Steve said finally. "You were alive. I should have gone back."

Bucky chuckled softly, caught off guard by Steve's sudden confession. The idea of Steve blaming himself made him feel a small measure of control again. That little guy from Brooklyn was still in there trying to carry the weight of the world, and he still needed Bucky.

"I fell off a train and over a cliff," Bucky reminded him. "My arm got ripped off. You were behind enemy lines and you had a mission to complete." Bucky felt calm again, but Steve looked troubled.

"I still should have tried to save you," he said.

Bucky threw his metal arm around Steve's shoulder. "I wouldn't have been there to fall off that train if it wasn't for you. You were the one who wanted to go. I just went because I got drafted. Everything good I did over there, we did together, and I wouldn't change a minute of it." Bucky thought for a moment. "Ok, maybe that last bit on the train."

Steve nodded, a thin smile on his lips. "Did it hurt?"

Bucky thought back for a minute. "I didn't feel much after my arm got ripped off. That hurt like hell. Hitting the ground, I was pretty much numb at that point. Getting the new one hurt like hell. At least the Wakandans used anesthesia when they replaced it," Bucky said. Steve winced.

Bucky stood up and gave Steve his hand to help him up. Steve reached in the cabinet and handed Bucky a plastic cup. "We'll clean the glass up in the morning."

"Hello?" someone called. Bucky instinctively moved his feet into a ready stance.

"Wanda?" Steve asked. The young woman Bucky had met earlier that day came into the dark kitchen. "What are you doing up?"

"Natasha snores," Wanda said. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," Steve said. "Well, Bucky broke a glass." He gestured at the sink. Wanda's hand started to glow.

"I'll get it." She waved her hands and levitated the shards into the trash.

"That's a neat trick," Bucky said. Here was another thing to get used to.

"I know it's hard to get comfortable in a new place, but we're happy you're here," she said. Bucky just nodded.

Steve yawned. "Alright, it's been a long day and tomorrow won't be any shorter, so we all need to try and get some sleep."

"I'll be up in a minute," Bucky said.

Steve smiled. "Night pal."

"I hope we didn't wake you up," Steve said as they climbed the stairs. Wanda shook her head. "Thanks for that, I think it helped him to hear that someone wants him here."

"You took me in when I had nowhere to go," Wanda said. "We owe him the same." She turned to go to her room.

"How long were you standing there?" Steve asked. Wanda turned back to him.

"Longer than I should have," she confessed. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I didn't want to interrupt."

"You might want to tell him you can read minds so it doesn't freak him out when he sees you doing it."

Wanda frowned. "Sometimes I don't even have to try. I didn't want to look without permission, but I was getting glimpses from him. He's seen some terrible things."

Steve nodded sadly. "Yeah he has. I think you know a little something about that too."

"I do," she agreed. "And he needs us right now."

Bucky sat in the living room, staring out the window. The first night in a new place was always unnerving. His first night in the Army, he had lain in his bunk staring at the ceiling until dawn. His first night of freedom in DC had been spent hiding in a vacant house, clutching a knife. He had only dared to doze off for a few minutes, terrified that he would be found, but not entirely sure who to be afraid of. The first night in Bucharest, he had spent looking out the window for any signs of pursuit. He blinked a few times, feeling a wave of fatigue that would catch up to him tomorrow. It would be alright. The second night was always better.

-End-

A/N: Thanks so much for checking out this story. Please let me know what you think!