It didn't seem fair to Steve that most times he was in a flying ship, whether it was a helicarrier or a ridiculously large plane, he ended up in a comatose state. Well, at least it would if he wasn't unconscious. His brain was elsewhere, not in the hospital bed, not in the water, and not complaining about the previous circumstances. No, instead it was with James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes, where he believed he should be.

"Come on, Steve. It doesn't look that bad."

"Are you looking at me or yourself? I look ridiculous." Steve was trying on one of Bucky's finer shirts. All of his clothes were… pretty basic. Cheap material. But Bucky had insisted Steve borrowed one for today. The shirt hung off his body, making him look smaller than usual- if that was at all possible. Even after he tucked it in to he pants, he looked like he was drowning.

"Well, yeah. But it's a family get together; you're not supposed to be looking for a dame. And if you are you've got a whole lot of issues."

"Most people would say I had a whole lot of issues anyway, Buck."

"Most people don't know you like I do."

"Lucky them."

"Shut up. Come on, we're gonna be late." Bucky's arm curled around Steve's tiny shoulders like it always did. It comforted Steve, made him feel safe. He allowed himself to be guided away from his bedroom, and was stopped in front of the door.

"Let's have a look at you," Bucky said, turning Steve to face him. The taller man ran his hand through Steve's floppy blonde hair, pushing it back over his head. His hands smoothed out the baggy shirt, and stopped at Steve's hips. "There, see? It's not so bad, is it?" Bucky muttered, eyes scanning the blonde's face closely, his toothy grin and crinkled eyes making Steve's heart flutter.

"I guess not." He whispered begrudgingly, making Bucky nod with satisfaction. He reached past Steve and opened the door, and the pair stepped into the bright sunshine.

Bucky still jumped from time to time when someone appeared unannounced. His capture had changed him, but it was only in ways that were expected. Jumping, absentmindedness, constantly waking up screaming. No one noticed because, well, everyone else did the same. It wasn't as if Bucky regretted joining the army- quite the opposite. He had never been happier. Being useful, an asset to his country, a hero for the masses. He'd made some great friends, ones he hoped he would never forget. Howard Stark, the man he'd envied and admired for so long often shared a drink or several with his group of Howling Commandos.

And then there was Steve. Bucky was still amazed by the change in him. Yes, he was still stubborn, was constantly picking fights (although this time it was with more than a chance of winning), had more sarcasm than a pissed off teen, and ignored more orders than most soldiers. But his physical appearance was… amazing, for lack of a better word. Muscular, tall. He was almost unrecognizable, if it weren't for the stupid grin he got on his face when he got a compliment or Peggy walked passed. Bucky didn't envy him, though. After all, Steve couldn't get drunk.

Bucky was sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for one of the camp showers to become vacant. He couldn't wait until their next mission, this time they were going to attempt to capture Schmidt's right hand man, Arnim Zola, from his train. They had planned the whole thing brilliantly, and two days from now they would be carrying it out. He was nervous, but apparently none of the others were. Jim still snored like a dog. Dugan carried out his usual "I was just showering, so what if I want to take a long shower. Tossing yourself off is a sin, you know, God guys what do you take me for" act. The thought of Dugan's protest to the guys jokes made Bucky laugh aloud.

"What's so funny?" Steve's amused voice sounded from behind him, making Bucky peer over his shoulder at his friend.

"Nothing. Just Dum's ability to be easily offended. How was the shower?"

"Cold. Really cold, I'm about eighty percent sure Philips is punishing me for something."

"Only eighty percent?" Bucky grinned. Despite Steve's complaint about the cold, he was only dressed in a towel, which was wrapped around his waist. It seemed that the only thing that didn't grow in size when they injected him with serum was his waist, because the thing was as small as ever. Steve's body was a work of art. His abs glistened with water, which trickled down from his soaking wet hair. His powerful muscles rippled under his skin as he moved toward his own bed next to Bucky, who found himself staring at him.

Bucky's heart was pounding in his chest, and he wasn't sure why. He watched as Steve sat in front of him; with his lopsided grin spread on his face.

"What's the matter, Buck? Are you afraid of a cold shower? I'd have thought you were used to 'em by now."

Bucky couldn't stop himself. Before he even realized what he was doing, he had leant forward, cupped Steve's cheek and pressed his lips firmly to the other man's. Steve tensed, obviously surprised by the kiss, but he didn't stop Bucky. But before he could kiss him back, the brunette pulled away, the hand that had pulled Steve's face to his own moving to scratch the back of his head. Embarrassed wasn't a good enough word to describe the regret Bucky felt.

"Steve, I'm sorry," he couldn't finish his sentence, and swiftly stood, gathered his shower bag and left the room. Steve sat on the edge of his bed, his expression still shocked.

That was one of the last memories Steve had of Bucky. And to this day he regretted not kissing him back sooner, of replying in some way other than stunned silence. But the time that he could have done something about his regret was passed, because now he now found himself waking up in a hospital bed. Bucky was long gone, and The Winter Soldier probably assumed his mission was dead. This thought brought a lump to his throat, but he realized he wasn't alone before the tears could spill down his cheeks. He could hear the quiet sounds of music from his right, but the lyrics were all blurred together.

"On your left."

The sound of Sam's voice made him smile with relief. His eyes fluttered open, and he peered out of the corner of his eye at his friend.

"You've been asleep, man. For five days now. I guess that's a personal best, right? Least time slept in the past seventy years?"

"Very funny," Steve croaked, his throat sore from the lack of speaking. "What'd I miss?"

"Straight to business? Nah, man. You need to relax. You just saved the world again."

"You helped."

"Helped? I owned that bitch. You would've got no where without me."

"That's true. Thanks Sam."

"Don't mention it. Unless it's in front of women. Then mention it as much as you want."

Steve chuckled, shaking his head.

"Listen, buddy. I'm gonna go get a nurse, you try and not fall back into a coma, okay?"

"Okay."

"Atta boy."

And with that, Sam left the room. Leaving Steve alone, to think on everything that had happened. SHIELD was gone. Well, technically it was never there but nevertheless he would need a new job. He couldn't help but wonder where The Winter Soldier was now. Would he go back to his commanders? Now Pierce was gone, what would happen to him? A small sigh escaped Steve's throat. He knew Bucky would never come back to him, yet he still couldn't stop worrying about his friend. After all, he made him a promise.