AUTHORS NOTE: I don't own any of Marvel. No matter how many times I kidnap the characters.

Enjoy!

"You need to talk to someone."

Steve's tone was serious. Like Bucky hadn't already tried several branches of extensive therapy that hadn't worked for him. He avoided Steve's worried eyes from the doorway and moved around his room. Steve didn't cross the threshold. He respected his best friend's privacy. As if this actually felt like my room.

"They're not my family, Steve. They're yours. They're your friends."

He kept his hands shoved in the pockets of his red hoody. Taking them out only when he needed to pick something up. He'd been clearing up the room, after The Vision had taken a short cut to Wanda's room via Bucky's walls and made a passing comment. Bucky wasn't sure if he was just moving things around for the sake of it now.

"And they'll be yours once you let them," Steve said. "I'm telling you. You belong here."

Bucky disagreed but decided not to argue against him. He shrugged and shoved a dirty sock in a draw.

"I talk to Nat."

"You talk to Nat in Russian. It's unnerving when I don't know what's going on." Steve watched Bucky kick the box labelled weapon cleaning under his bed. He didn't know whether Bucky was actually cleaning or not either - his weapons were normally the only thing he kept in check. "That's not the point, though, Bucky. She's just as withdrawn and allusive as you. You should try talking to someone more social. It could help."

"Nat and I have a lot in common. I don't see why I have to go out of my way to talk to people who don't want to talk to me."

Steve shook his head. Clearly agitated at the don't want to talk to me comment but skirting around it anyway. For now. He was still trying to learn how to handle his friend's guilty mindset.

"You know who else you have a lot in common with? Clint."

"Clint?" Bucky gave an empty laugh. "You've been talking to Nat, haven't you?"

"I'm guessing she's made the same suggestion, then? He's a super spy just like the two of you."

"But he doesn't speak Russian? You said you don't like it when me and Nat speak Russian." Bucky's tone remained the same, but he stored that information in mind for later. Steve shrugged.

"Not as well as you two."

"So, super spy means we have a lot in common?" Bucky said it like there was more to him than that. In reality, there was more to Clint than that. Bucky was struggling to find anything inside him that wasn't super spy.

"Look, just because he's not a hot red head -"

Bucky raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not a redhead. Unless you're implying something else. You think that's what I bond with Nat over? Hotness and Hair products?"

That reminded him, he had to write down her tip on conditioning. Steve gave him a pointed look.

"I know what you're doing."

Bucky actually turned to look at him this time, rather than sparing him a glance.

"I'm not doing anything, Punk."

"Just talk to Clint," Steve spoke with finality. "Ease your way into getting to know these guys. It'll do you good."

"Wanna get a drink or something?"

Clint was busy cutting his sandwich in half when Bucky approached him. He turned to him with wide eyes. A pleased smirk broke onto his face. Bucky was immediately apprehensive. He tried to push that down. Steve wanted Bucky to talk to him. Clint was Nat's best friend. Hawkeye took a step back to get a better look at him. What was the worst that could happen? Clint picked up another two knives and casually started juggling them as he considered him.

"You're finally asking me on a date? You've caught me off guard. What will Nat and Steve say?"

Bucky rolled his eyes. He pushed himself to carry on.

"They want me to talk to more Avengers. Nat says you're the best one to start with. Steve agreed." Although I can't imagine why.

Clint stood and juggled in silence for a moment. He nodded, impaling the kitchen tops with one knife at a time in an array of circus finesse. The last knife he threw at Bucky. It wasn't a good throw. It was purely style and came from behind Clint's back in a twist. Bucky still dodged it like it was aiming for his head. He rolled to the ground and snatched it from the floor in a snap. He rolled back onto his feet and took a few steps back, knife raised, looking Clint up and down before realising he may have overreacted to the threat. He didn't take any chances. He didn't put the knife down.

"Oh, yes." Clint's face lit up. "I can see why Tasha sent you my way. Put the knife down. I can show you the world. Shining! Shimmering! Splendid!" He strolled past Bucky like he hadn't been the one juggling the knives. He pulled on his leather jacket. Bucky relaxed into his posture a little, placing the knife down gently but keeping his hand on it.

"So tell me, Princess. When did you last let your heart decide?" Clint kept his tone casual as he strolled out the door. He left it open but didn't stop to wait for him. Bucky took the knife with him, stowing it away…just in case. Steve had said it himself, Clint was a super spy. Bucky knew those weren't people you should trust easily.

Bucky followed after, cautious about how far away anyone was from him. He tried to catch the end of his question. He wasn't going to admit he was actually interested. When did I last let my heart decide what?

3 hours later, The noises of the fun fair had almost burst Bucky's ear drums. Clint had won him a giant stuffed bear in a coconut shy. He'd quickly adopted it, after the eleventh time Bucky had told him he didn't want it. (The first ten had been whilst Clint was paying, queuing and winning the damn thing – but he hadn't listened). He'd named it Jamie.

"Like James. See? If you can get the basketball in that hoop you can win that giant parrot. Call it Hawking. That way we'll always have a piece of each other by our side."

Bucky had said no to the basketball stall. Clint had won him that too. And then brought them candyfloss. Most of what Bucky hadn't eaten had caught up in his hair and gotten sticky. At some point, Bucky had guilt tripped himself into doing whatever Clint wanted to do next. He'd supposed he was being ungrateful. Now, he'd been face painted into a tiger. He didn't feel as bad anymore. Although, he'd thrown away the knife out of fear that he'd snap and use it on Clint for the wrong reasons.

Bucky didn't see how Clint was the person to ease him into the Avengers. He definitely didn't see how this was doing him any good.

By the time they traipsed back into the main room of Avengers HQ, Bucky was exhausted. Clint's buzz only seemed to feed off itself. He chucked the bear onto the sofa and took his coat off, rounding on Bucky again as he did so.

"Can you sign?" He asked. "I can teach you how to sign. I'll teach you how to sign the songs from The Little Mermaid."

Bucky just stared at him. He didn't realise how tight the fist that held the parrot's neck was. He was trying his best. It wasn't that he didn't like Clint. This was just too much…so very, very much. He didn't blink. He was tired. He hadn't even known what Disney was before this evening! Screw that.

"I'm going to bed."

"You can't say he wasn't enthusiastic, Buck. No one else would have known how to start a friendship like that."

"That's how he does friendship, James. He's like an excited dog at first, he'll calm down and you'll get used to him."

Those were the excuses Steve and Nat gave Bucky when he'd asked them how the hell Clint had been the best person to ease him into the Avengers.

That's how he does friendship?Fair enough. Clint walked around Avengers HQ like a complete professional after the Fun Fair fiasco. He walked around like he wasn't absolutely crazy! His waves and smiles at Bucky were a bit more genuine from then on. Not that they hadn't been genuine before. It was just that, now, he seemed to smile at Bucky like he genuinely thought of him as a friend. Bucky wasn't sure how that had happened.

Clint was a complete professional. He even skipped dish cleaning duties to get straight back to target practice. Bucky didn't eat much. He'd finished and cleaned his dishes long before Clint had stopped making orgasm noises over his food. Bucky knew Clint was a complete professional after a few minutes of watching him shoot bullseyes in various different scenarios. He could admit that he was impressed.

Clint didn't know Bucky was watching him, of course. Bucky didn't want him to. He could see his nest from here, up in the rafters. Rafters that he was pretty sure had been installed so Barton could make a nest in the first place.

Bucky smirked. Clint loaded another arrow and raised it to the target on the other end of the room. Bucky raised his sniper gun and fired before Clint could release the bow. Many meters ahead of them, Clint's target exploded. Hawkeye spun around, eyes wide at the ceiling, to where Bucky hid in the shadows. No one else would have seen him so clearly or quickly. Bucky's smirk broke into an all-out smile.

Steve, and then Nat, had been great in helping Bucky through his recovery process. But at the end of the day, it came down to him. He knew he wasn't the kid from Brooklyn who'd saved Steve's ass from alley fights. He made a habit of reminding him of that. He wasn't the Winter Soldier, though. Not the Soldier he'd been anyway. He was recovering someone new. Clint had shown Bucky how he did friendship. Bucky was returning the favour.

Clint saw Bucky strap his gun back over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows. Bucky's smile grew slyer. Nat had taught him the basics of signing and Bucky had quickly realised he could teach himself the rest. He knew that Clint would be able to make out his hands from that far away.

You're welcome, bitch.

Yeah…Bucky was pretty sure this was how the "new him" did friendship.

AUTHORS NOTE 2: For more recovery Bucky fics and a few Winter Soldier ones, check out my profile. Some are cheerful. Some are depressing. Some are just cute. (I hope)

After months of promising stories, My pal Prisoner of Azkaban711 finally published her own Bucky fic. I've read it. it's beautiful.

Until next time, soldiers. *Salutes*