Inspired by: "The Story of Us" by Taylor Swift

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters


Chapter 1

They find Bucky in Brooklyn five months after the Helicarrier disaster in D.C.

And in their former apartment complex, no less.

Steve is surprised and shocked when he opens the door to their old apartment and is immediately tackled to the ground by Bucky, who is shouting at him in Russian and gesturing wildly all while attempting to stab him with the knife clutched tightly in his metal hand. It takes Steve and Sam longer than they would have liked to convince Bucky that they're not Hydra and to stop attacking Steve so he can listen to what they have to say.


"You want me to go with you?" Bucky says, now standing on the opposite side of the room, twirling a knife between his metal fingers.

Steve nods his head in confirmation after spending the last ten minutes explaining how dangerous it is for Bucky to be by himself with Hydra on the loose and that they would be stronger as a team. "Fury has a safe house near Sterling Forest we can stay in—it's completely isolated; the closet town is Warwick and that's roughly twenty miles away."

Bucky ponders over his words, body tensing as a suspicious look crosses over his features. "Why should I trust you?"

"Because it's either us or Hydra," Sam says bluntly. "Hydra won't stop until they have you back. You can only run for so long and you know what they say about running, once you start—"

"You don't stop; yeah, I've heard that before," Bucky responds, stilling the knife in his hand as his eyes roams over Steve's face.

Steve shifts nervously under Bucky's gaze, adjusting his shield on his arm, remembering all of the times Bucky yelled at him for not backing down from a fight. ("Once you start running, you don't stop," Steve had said. "And neither do they.")

"How much do you remember?" the blond asks.

Bucky licks his lips and Steve unconsciously follows the movement. "Not much. Just flashes—bits from being Winter Soldier, bits from before the war—"

The brunet cuts himself off, biting down on his lower lip, but Steve swears he was about to say 'you.'

Steve takes the pause in their conversation to run his eyes over his friend, taking in his condition. Bucky looks the same as he did when they were younger aside from the longer hair that falls to his shoulders, stubble, metal arm, and baggy clothes that don't fit him. He meets Bucky's eyes and his breath catches in his throat—he's the same, he's different, and he's still the most beautiful person Steve has ever laid eyes on.

"So, what do you say?" Sam says pulling the pair out of their trance. "You want to come with us?"

Bucky purses his lips as he thinks over his decision. After a few moments, his body relaxes and he sheaves his knife, glancing between the pair—eyes lingering on Steve—before nodding. "Alright."


They steal a car from a parking garage after Bucky packs his few possessions (a razor, shampoo and conditioner, soap, rifle, pistol, knives) in a brown back he claimed to have found in an alley upon Sam asking— the price tag still attached to one of straps invalidates his statement, but neither call him out on it.

Sam checks the interior and exterior of the car, making sure there are no bugs or anything that could reveal their location. Steve tears the license plates from the car, crumpling each of them into a ball before tossing them in a bin nearby. Bucky watches the two of them work calmly from the backseat, backpack sitting on the floor next to his feet, eyes darting around as if looking for threats.

Steve sighs heavily, sliding into the passenger side and shutting the door behind him. He looks into the side mirror and notices Bucky looking at him with a curious expression on his face. Steve looks back, not knowing what to make of that look. Bucky opens his mouth to speak when the driver's side door opens and Sam slides in behind the wheel before immediately pushing his seat back. He pulls a screwdriver and wire cutters out of his pocket before beginning to unscrew the panel from underneath the steering wheel.

When Steve first noticed that Sam carried both of those items on his person, he questioned as to why he might need them ("You never know when you're gonna be in a pinch and be like 'man, I could easily solve this with a screwdriver and some wire cutters,'" Sam had said with a grin). Watching him remove panel and swapping the screwdriver for the cutters, Steve can now see why.

"You know how to hot wire a car?" the blond questions, genuinely curious on where the man could have picked up this skill.

"I ran with some bad people when I was a teenager and they me how—among other things. I stayed with them for a few years before I wanted out so I joined the U.S. Air Force Pararescue division to try and do some good, you know, let go of some of that anger I had bottled up. After that, well, you know the rest."

Steve doesn't know what to say—Sam's never told him any of this before. Aside from his time in the army, the other man hasn't mentioned much of his past. Steve moves to place a hand on Sam's shoulder. "I'm glad you got out."

"Yeah," Sam says, sounding distant. "Me too."

The car starts up and Sam lets a small smile cross his face. Sometimes, old habits just won't die. He screws the panel back into place and puts the car into reverse. "Let's bounce."


They make a quick stop at the motel where Steve and Sam have been staying for the past few days to grab their bags. Sam runs inside while Steve stays with Bucky, afraid that the other man might run if he's left alone. The pair sits in silence, mostly because Steve doesn't know what to say. Bucky keeps fixing him this look that he can't identify—like he wants to say something by doesn't fully know what Steve's reaction might be.

Sam returns before either of them can speak, tossing the bags into the trunk, and climbing behind the wheel. He pulls away from the curb and they make their way out of the city with no trouble, heading Northwest.

Skyscrapers and interstate slowly turn into quiet forest roads and tall trees looming on either side of the car. The area is gorgeous—still as gorgeous as Steve remembers. He and Bucky went camping up here once when they were younger—Bucky had a rare two days off and Steve wanted to draw the scenery. Those are some of Steve's fondest memories, even though he did have a massive allergy attack, got poison ivy, and Bucky fussed claiming the trip wasn't worth it but it completely was. Seeing Bucky happy, smiling, laughing and relaxing especially after all the hard work he did so they could make ends meet, was worth the negatives that fell from their little adventure.

"Have we been here before?" Bucky asks, breaking the silence and pulling Steve from his thoughts.

"Yeah," Steve says with a small, nostalgic smile. "We went camping."

Bucky doesn't respond, just turns his head to look outside the window, with a curious expression on his face.