Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson & Steve Rogers w/ mentions of others

Pairings: Bucky & Sam (friendship), Steve/Sam (romantic, background), Natasha/Bucky (implied, background)

Warnings: mentions of non-canon character death, allusions to comic book storylines, a lot of headcanon and speculation

AN: I wrote this before AoU came out but it takes place during the events so there are some things that are divergent from canon and others that may be spoilers if you haven't seen it, I don't specify which is which

The man formerly known as Bucky Barnes was pissed and by all accounts he had every right to be so. He was strapped down to a table with heavy duty restraints even that green beast, the Hulk who he'd been debriefed on during the alien attack in New York, would be loath to break through. He remembered sitting up and awaiting orders to move in if the Avengers Initiative failed. They hadn't so he was put back to sleep. He hadn't been forced to sleep in some time and he wasn't planning on it now despite the fact HYDRA had gotten their clutches on him once again. He wouldn't have even gotten caught if it wasn't for those damn robots showing up and setting off a frenzied stampede which had given HYDRA enough cover to get the drop on him. He couldn't even count on Rogers showing up behind him in a few days like usual because he was dealing with Stark's robots.

Usually the Captain - no Steve, he knew who he was... to an extent- following him all over kingdom come with his therapist boyfriend in tow annoyed him to no end. He was rearranging his entire mind almost every second of every day as more and more memories returned to him. Seeing Steve in real life as Captain America conflicted so heavily with most of his returning memories which featured a skinny scrappy version of Steve who weighed barely 90 pounds soaking wet, who couldn't flirt with girls to save his life, who never saw a fight he could walk away from no matter the physical detriment, whose lungs rattled and shook with effort to keep going in the dead of winter when his asthma got real bad and Bucky - not him, he wasn't Bucky but was at the same time and he might never not be confused by that- would scavenge every blanket and quilt he could find and wrap Steve up while Becca pretended she wasn't damn near crying in the corner while clutching a rosary in her hand.

He could remember feeling what Bucky felt, feeling like he had to protect the both of them because he was the oldest and he had promised Ma and Aunt Sarah before their own lungs gave out that he'd protect Steve and Becca. Granted saving Steve from fights he'd never win and beating stupid street rats off Becca with a stick (almost literally a couple times, fucking idiots can't take 'no' for an answer) was different from trying and failing to stop Steve's body turning against him.

The point was he couldn't quite square up Captain America with his memory of Steve Rogers but he didn't feel too bad because something told him Bucky couldn't either. Still it made him stay away from Steve though he did usually circle back around and watch out for him because he attracted an inordinate amount of trouble. The therapist helped his efforts to keep Steve's ass out of trouble. He'd watched them enough to know them immediately with just a glance so when the HYDRA operatives walked into the room he immediately recognized the therapist when he walked in. Most of the men who entered are not military or very combat effective. He suspects they are scientists. The therapist and another man are the only physical threat. When the dark skinned man sees him his eyes widen minutely before he straightens his back.

"Alright, let's get this show on the road. We need to roll him out as soon as possible." One of the scientists said.

"I still say we should reset him then sell him off. AIM would pay good money for him." Another replied.

"We need the leverage, its better we have him." The third chimed in. They were doing that thing again where they spoke like he wasn't in the room, like he couldn't hear. Oftentimes he would remain silent during such conversations but that wasn't what he was anymore. He wasn't the Winter Soldier in that sense of the title anymore and he would never be again if he had anything to say about it.

"He is right here. I'm not deaf and if you don't let me go in the next two minutes-"

"You'll do what? You're compromised, half the time you aren't in your own head enough to do much damage." He glared at the scientist but the woman chuckled mockingly.

"The Winter Soldier. We used to fear you, you know that?"

"So you are smart then." He commented. The woman continued as if he hadn't spoken.

"But you're nothing but a puppet." He knew that's what he was before. 'Puppet' was the best way to sum up his existence in one word but he was done being a chess piece, he was done being a weapon, he was done being their victim, he wasn't following anyone anymore.

"You see any strings on me?"

"Not yet but a puppet is useless without strings, you know that better than most. What else are you going to do? Fight crime with Captain America and his Avengers? You're not that bright so here's a hint: you're the villain in the story." He looked down and away, he was well aware of his status in this narrative but he hoped he could do something worthwhile now that he wasn't under anyone's thumb, like Natalia was doing. She seemed to be trying to balance her checkbook. He wondered if it was possible but he knew if anyone could she could do it.

He didn't ever travel with her for very long but they did see each other from time to time while they enacted their separate crusades against HYDRA. She repaid him for the two gunshots with matching ones though in her defense she did help him afterwards instead of leaving him bleeding in the street and every time they met she helped him cross some names off his list. She had destroyed his old cryo unit at what used to be Department X while he took care of the base under the bank in DC and then they took down the storage base in St. Petersburg together so he wasn't mad at her but he still didn't run with her for very long because being with her for too long meant eventually being with Steve and he wasn't ready for a close face to face confrontation with him yet or to really be a part of Natalia's life as Natasha Romanov. What she told her partner and her team about her true history was up to her. She didn't reveal all his secrets to Steve in that file she gave him just like she didn't reveal all hers in that info dump. She blew her most recent cover of course but half the files on the life of the latest version of Natalia Alianovna Romanova turned Agent Natasha Romanov born 1984 were falsehoods and lies implanted in her head by Department X. By his calculations this was the fourth time they had remade Natalia since her true birth in 1926 but he still wasn't sure how much she actually remembered, wasn't sure where she stood mentally among her many reincarnations and he had his own identity crisis to deal with, no need to instigate one for her even if she remembered enough to help him when he needed it.

His train of thought was cut off as some explosions went off somewhere to the far east of the room he was in. He hadn't set any charges in this particular base but he had set up some high powered rifles in strategic points in the air ducts and put them on timers. They would shoot themselves and- oh. His ears pricked as shots began ringing out. The scientists who were talking down to him looked around in fear and confusion, afterall they weren't soldiers. The therapist spoke up as the shots grew nearer.

"Get the squids to the bunker. I'll call back up and get the Soldier secured enough so we can join." The other military man nodded before motioning for the scientists to follow him. Idiots. The therapist waited until they were gone before he started unstrapping him.

"Those guns yours?" The therapist asked. He nodded in affirmation.

"Charges?"

"Well, they were on sale." He deadpanned. He fought back a snort of what might have been laughter. The man released all the straps and then helped him off the table.

"Sam Wilson. Nice to finally meet you, on non-hostile terms at least." He nodded but otherwise said nothing.

"What are you calling yourself these days?" The man, Wilson, asked as he led him out of the room.

"I'm not calling myself anything."

"Good thing too because 'anything' would be a shit name for a person." He didn't hold back the snort this time but before he could feel embarrassed about it another explosion went off, shaking the ground under their feet. He was sure he heard a part of the complex collapse but it wasn't an immediate danger to them. Wilson made to round a corner but he stopped him, remembering the rifle he placed there.

"Gun. It'll reset in about 20 seconds then we'll have a ten second window to get past it." He explained. Wilson nodded in understanding.

"So, what do I call you?"

"Why do you need to call me anything?"

"Winter Soldier's a bit of a mouthful in a desperate situation such as we find ourselves in now and besides it's a title, not a name."

"You presume we'll be together long enough for many situations like this?"

"Well we've got HYDRA hunting us down, various world governments not least of all our own who wouldn't mind locking us away after the Project Insight business not to mention killer robots chasing us under the control of a crazy, Stark model AI and who knows what's going on off the planet and which aliens are itching to attack next. Loki's still alive last I heard. I figure there's something to be said for any number greater than one right about now." He shrugged in response, Wilson wasn't wrong. Earth was getting to be a very queer and curious place to live. In lieu of providing an answer he grabbed him by the arm and started running around the corner dragging Wilson behind him and not stopping even as the man tripped over the dead bodies of HYDRA agents. He hardly noticed the dead anymore, death itself hardly bothered him. He had faced it on both sides so much he was numb to it which probably wasn't a good thing but there was nothing for it. He and Wilson managed to get down the hall just as the gun reset, he used his metal arm to block bullets from hitting him or Wilson until they got around the corner.

"Thanks." Wilson said. The man shrugged again before they continued their escape out into the streets of Paris. It wasn't bustling as usual what with the robot attack and most people around were retreating from the base as they could hear the gunshots and explosions. They ran, melting into the fleeing crowd as small as it was, as best they could until he couldn't hear the noise from the base at all even with his enhanced hearing zoned and focused as much as he could.

He broke from the crowd and started stalking westward without looking back when a throat cleared behind him.

"I really wouldn't mind if you came with me. Steve's in New York, it'd just be me and you I promise. Besides I'd really like to give him some good news. I'll even not ask about your name if you want." The man stared at Wilson. He seemed sincere but everyone was a liar, some were better than others but everyone lied and no one was ever truly selfless so he wondered what Wilson gained from his company. He seemed to see the question in his eyes.

"I'm doing it for Steve, okay? Honestly? I've been kidnapped, shot, stabbed, poisoned and nearly killed more than once on Steve's quest to find you. I've spent weeks in seedy motels getting bitten by who knows what and nearly catching STDs just by breathing the air in those places and have been discriminated against for my skin color more in the last year than I have for my entire life to find you. One would think it would've crossed my mind that I was dealing with Nazis so what did I really expect? Point is I endured all of it and I did it for Steve because you may not have noticed this but he is not okay. And it's not just because of you either." Wilson sighed heavily.

"Look I don't know you from Adam, man. But what I do know is that Steve probably would've killed himself looking for you if he was alone. Maybe he would've deliberately run into danger and would've used trying to finding you as an excuse to... not be here anymore. Which would be a tragedy because he's... he's Steve and he's just... he can't not be here. You know that. Out of everything you remember I know you know that a world where Steve Rogers is not alive is not a world at all, sure as hell not one I would want to live in. He is not okay and I'm trying to do everything I can to help and I would appreciate it if I could tell him that I saw you and you're alive and you at least had a couple hot meals and a shower before you went about your business." He quirked his head to the side and stared hard at Wilson. The way he spoke reminded him of Bucky's passion and love for Steve but he had a feeling Wilson's kind of love for the Captain was different than Bucky's.

"You're in love with him." He stated rather than questioned. Wilson nodded his head.

"Yeah, I am." He didn't look ashamed or afraid to admit it, not like Steve was when Aunt Sarah caught him necking Ronnie from down the block. He remembered she was upset that Steve chose Ronnie because he wasn't much for hard work or appreciation of other people's hard-earned possessions not for the fact he was a fella. He looked Wilson up and down; the therapist was telling the truth now or at least his version of it. While he was loath to accept help from a virtual stranger, or anyone at all for that matter, Natalia had vouched for him last time they met and he wouldn't object to company that didn't want to tame him and didn't confound him mentally. He sighed before answering.

"You can call me Bucky." Wilson looked surprised then happy before he relaxed his expression to neutrality.

"But you aren't Bucky?" Wilson was perceptive, he'd give him that.

"No... But yes. It's complicated." Wilson put his hands up in the universal sign of surrender.

"Hey, however you need to rationalize it so it makes sense to you is cool." He cocked his head at the man again but he wasn't lying this time either.

"Just for 24 hours. This time tomorrow, I'm gone."

"Totally up to you."

He didn't leave the next day or the one after that because of the robots. He and Wilson had swung by the abandoned warehouse he was staying in while in Paris and picked up his things, it was just one bag with a change of clothing, some cash and most importantly his knives, guns and explosives. They hadn't found it thankfully. They went back to Sam's hotel room and stayed there until he was ready to go. Except just as he was making to leave the next day Wilson was attacked by Stark's robots. They were clearly targeting him specifically but between the two of them they managed to survive.

"Any idea what you did to piss the killer robots off?" He asked Wilson as they drove in the SUV they stole after they escaped.

"None but I'm sure it'll be interesting when I find out." He replied, his eyes on the road ahead.

"Stark's a lot like his father as it turns out." He commented. He didn't remember a lot about Howard Stark but he remembered Bucky hadn't particularly liked him during the war. He hadn't hated him either he was just put off by him and wanted to keep their dealings to a minimum. He remembered Howard, older Howard fixing his arm a few times, making upgrades, wincing when his handlers would mockingly give him a Nazi salute and say 'hail HYDRA' but he'd never say anything to them. He remembered Howard staring at him with guilty eyes.

'I'm sorry Barnes. I have to. For Maria, for my son, I have to.'

He remembered killing Howard. That memory wasn't as satisfying as it should have been considering the betrayal it followed.

"I've met Tony, and his better half Pepper Potts for that matter. Tony tries but his father is Howard Stark: the greatest weapons manufacturer to ever live, it's a hard shadow to escape. I think Tony tries and sometimes it isn't enough but that's what good friends are for. They pull your head out when it's too far up your own ass."

"Howard wasn't that great."

"Maybe, still a lot to come out from under."

"Mmm." Wilson looked over at him briefly before looking back at the road.

"So Steve told me that he got a call from Becca Barnes' daughter, Piper. Apparently she got a call from the bank telling her and her husband that their mortgage was paid off and so were their utility bills for the next ten years. Plus their children's' college funds each had $600,000 in it and they each got their own trust fund. Financially, they're pretty set right now. Wonder how that happened."

"Figured HYDRA owed me for my years of service. Wasn't all that hard to find the crooked politicians' offshore accounts and HYDRA owned a couple banks. Natalia helped me sort out what wasn't marked and I took care of my... Bucky's family. You disapprove?"

"Hell no. I would do the same for my family."

"You have family?"

"Yeah. My mom, my sister and my nieces."

"I wouldn't have thought you'd go running around the world with Steve then."

"Sure I worry about them. I'm worried as hell now but seeing as how there are mass murdering robots chasing me it's a good thing I'm not with them. I'll just put them in danger." He nodded in understanding.

"Yeah." He said fiddling with a locket around his neck. Natalia had brought it to him, said it was a gift from Piper. It had a picture of his parents on one side and one of Bucky and Becca on the other. It was stupidly sentimental to keep it but he had. He looked over at Wilson and he was smiling to himself, probably thinking about his family who he wanted to protect and take care of even if it meant not being with them. They had a common ground there at least.

"So come on. You gotta spill." Wilson said suddenly.

"Spill what?"

"Embarrassing childhood stories about Steve of course. If you have any reservations just know that he told me about the time you threw up on Denise Jones' shoes as she was about to kiss you at Coney Island." He felt a stirring of embarrassment at that. He remembered that.

"That bastard." He grumbled, sinking into the seat as his cheeks felt annoyingly warm.

"Oh my god Bucky, you're blushing!"

"No I'm not."

"You are." He glared at Wilson who shrugged it off with a laugh.

"If it makes you feel better the first me and Steve tried to kiss we couldn't decide which way to turn our heads and our foreheads smacked together instead." He looked at Wilson with suspicion, wondering if he was lying.

"I shit you not. Steve's head is so damn hard it knocked me out. That was a hell of a story to explain to the nurse." He felt a smile of amusement tugging at his lips.

"He was always horrible when it came to relationships. Wasn't always his fault but he could be so..." He trailed off. Those two sentences was more than he even said to Natalia about his memories concerning Steve.

"Awkward?"

"What?"

"Steve. Awkward is the word you're looking for."

"Yeah, 'awkward' will do just nicely." He turned his face away and pressed his head against the window not wanting to talk anymore. Wilson seemed to take the hint and turned back to the road. He was grateful.

Wilson's not so bad. He's talkative but his words have meaning. He talks about his family, his mother who is a lawyer and his sister who is a magazine editor. His nieces are 8 and 6 and gloat about the fact that their uncle is the Falcon and knows Captain America every chance they get. He talks about Steve and Natalia too but largely keeps his connections to them out of conversation. He talks about his former wingman Riley, Project EXO-7 and flying with the metal wings that the Winter Soldier destroyed ('...Sorry about that.' 'Tony made me new ones that actually belong to me. They're better than the others but don't tell him I said that. Head's too big already.') Wilson talks about meeting Peggy Carter who was his childhood hero and crush apparently. He remembers Peggy. Remembers flirting with her and her ignoring him in favor of Steve, remembers drinking with her under the night sky in the war ravaged European theater telling each other about their families and what foods they missed and complaining about Steve's stubbornness and how shit those MREs were, remembers her saving his life more times than not and fighting beside the men as equals. She'd been a swell woman, he remembered wanting her and Steve to work. At least she got to live a life though, a happy one. She deserved that.

Wilson talks about the VA and the Avengers and, hell he talks about the weather but he doesn't force him to speak back. After a while hewants to speak back to him. He has an infectious energy about him. He doesn't force him to reevaluate anything about himself and he doesn't disturb his mind like Steve and Natalia do so he doesn't mind Wilson. He doesn't mind him at all.

One of the many things about the 21st century he liked better than any time before was pancakes. He loved all kinds really, he didn't discriminate. Not a lot of room to when he was largely homeless but Wilson, hell he'll call him Sam for this. Sam takes him to an IHOP after they've been driving 6 hours straight. He's almost overwhelmed with choices especially since they are largely the only ones there except two staff members. Killer robots have their benefits. He ends up with blueberry pancakes along with a cheese omelet. Sam gets chicken and waffles and they both get a huge mug of too sweet hot chocolate.

"That good huh?" Sam asks staring at him with amusement as he was stuffing the pancakes into his mouth obnoxiously fast. He looked up at him and nodded.

"Don't let me stop you enjoying yourself then." He went right back to seeing how much he could fit in his mouth without choking to Sam's obvious amusement.

"You're worse than my nieces." He commented before eating his own food. After they've eaten, him getting a second plate of pancakes and three to go bags as well, they hop back in the car so they can find a motel. Sam lets him drive this time.

"I have money. We don't need to go to a sleazy one."

"Don't want to try out me and Steve's old haunts? We can compare bedbug bites." Sam says reclined in the passenger seat with his feet up.

"I'll pass."

"You're missing out."

"I doubt that somehow."

"Don't want to create new memories, Buck?

"Let me get the old ones back first and get your feet off the dash."

"You and Steve are such old men. Can't have my feet on the dash, can't have my hand out the window, can't check myself out in the side view mirror."

"Poor you."

They do find a hotel an hour later but it's an hour of Sam making bad arm puns and jokes and asking outlandish questions.

'I'm not worried about myself. I've got the Winter Soldier with me, most consider you armed and dangerous.'

'Can you take off your arm and arm wrestle yourself?'

'Sure you don't need help with those bags? Looks like an armful.'

Until finally he joined in and started making jokes of his own.

'Don't you know? In Soviet Russia government arms you, so I'm good.'

'That's the spirit, Barnes.'

He took a shower again when they got there. Hot water was a rare luxury in all the lives he remembered so he savored it. The water relaxed him so much he forgot Sam was there and walked out of the bathroom shirtless because he forgot his other shirt in his bag and didn't remember Sam until he gave a low whistle on the other side of the room.

"That's some serious ink, man." He looked down at himself and all the tattoos that littered his body, there were some on his back as well. Sam wouldn't have seen them before now because he wore long sleeves and a big jacket for most of their interactions the last couple days. Even the HYDRA scientists weren't smart enough to intimidate him further by stripping him down, they let him keep his shirt. Good, he didn't want them seeing his tattoos anyway. He supposed he'd turned his body from a weapon into a canvas and he wasn't sure that was much better but it was his choice. He knew that was important now more than ever, that he made his own choices. He looked at Sam and he was craning his head to read some and decipher what others meant. He had so many tattoos they barely all fit.

"It's a lot, I know." He said with a shrug and a stirring of something like anxiousness.

"Your prerogative." Sam answered and the anxiety dissipated. Huh, curious. He stepped closer to Sam so he could see the ones on his abdomen, chest and arm better.

"They're... memories. Sometimes even when I get it back it slips away again just out of reach so I know it's there but don't know what it is. After a while I started writing things down, drew a few things too. I'm not Steve but I can move a pencil. Then I needed something more permanent."

"Hence the tats." Sam perused them a second longer before looking up at him.

"Mind sharing with the class?" He shuffled a little. Natalia hadn't asked about them when she saw them. He didn't know if he would tell her anything anyway. Sam shifted before pulling up his sleeve.

"This one I got after my dad died." He said pointing to a dove holding an olive branch in its mouth on his shoulder. Under it was an Eagle with what looked like a donut in its mouth. He looked up at Sam with a raised eyebrow.

"The other one I got after Riley died. Dad was all about peace, Riley was more into donuts. Riley was EXO-7 Designation: EAGLE. That's all I got. 'Fraid for all my bravado I hate getting tattoos. Hurt like shit, especially getting it colored." He looked down at himself before he hesitantly rose his right arm and showed the inside of his forearm.

"This is one of the first ones I got." It showed an old timey compass, like an 18th century sailor would use. Instead of the usual directions though on the North ticker it said Natalia, on the South it said Steve, on the West it said Winifred and the East said Evelyn. There were names in the mid directions as well. Northwest was Becca, Northeast was Rose, Southwest was George and Southeast was Sarah.

"Winifred was my mother's name, George was my father's, Aunt Sarah was Steve's mother, Rose and Evelyn were my younger sisters. They were older than Becca. They died before the war, TB. I wanted to make sure I remember my family. Even if I forget them again, at least I'll know these names are important to me." He didn't bother correcting himself and calling them Bucky's family or the Winter Soldier's best girl, the feelings attached to the names permanently etched on his skin were real and present so a distinction wouldn't be completely accurate. Sam's finger reached out and stopped midway before he looked at him for permission. He nodded his head and then Sam started running his fingers against the edge of the compass before trailing up to another tattoo above it. It was simple, in black ink and clear print reading: Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes, 32557.

"Your army number?" He nodded again and before he knew it he was explaining all his tattoos to Sam.

Some were easy to explain like the list on the right side of his back that listed all the Howling Commandos but others required more storytelling. He enjoyed some of the stories like telling Sam about the first time he convinced Steve to ride the Cyclone and the punk had ended up vomiting after Sam noticed the roller coaster on his lower abdomen and telling him about the time he and Natalia actually got to go on a real date during a mission in Paris and moonlit chats with Peggy after he pointed to the Eiffel Tower under the Commandos' names. Others weren't so pleasant like the story attached to the pair of heavy manacles on his upper chest. He had tried to escape his masters in the late 80s. He was gone for three weeks before they dragged him back. The first few days they kept him chained up on his knees outside in the freezing cold shirtless. He's amazed he survived that but then again the serum allowed for conditions such as that. He was used to the cold anyway. Sam balked at that story and didn't really say anything about the memory he shared of killing the two young children of a defector who wanted to sell information to HYDRA's enemies. He got a tattoo of a rag doll after that memory came back. That event was what had made him leave in the 80s. He had killed children before that but something about that particular mission rocked him harder than any others. Perhaps because they made him watch the children for a week prior to killing them, perhaps because they had looked a bit like Rose and Evelyn, maybe the Winter Soldier simply grew too weary of that life to remain in it a second longer or hell maybe they just gave him a faulty memory wipe before they woke him. He wasn't sure he wanted to know exactly what happened. Telling Sam though did make him feel better which surprised him. Sam didn't pry deeper than he was comfortable with and didn't give him childish reassurances which he was more than grateful for.

After that Sam went and got some ice cream,

'We need to cheer up. Ice cream always does the trick.'

He found ice cream had improved over time as well but the choices... he was sure the sheer amount of choices out there were going to make his head explode one day. Sam was right though, he did feel better after they ate some ice cream. He even watched a movie with Sam and only complained about the false movie violence a little... okay a lot.

'You could at least try to not act your age Bucky.'

That night he found himself in the throes of a nightmare. It was all hazy and he could barely make out what was happening but he remembered Pierce was there and he was grinning at him and telling him that he had shaped a century, that he had done great things in service of a better world. He believed what he said most times than not, even mentally preened at the praise sometimes like he was no more than a pet. Then there were the mind wipes, the blinding pain of being erased over and over again and thinking it was a reward. Like treats for a dog. That's all he was: a caged animal they ever so often let off it's leash to run around knowing he'd return because what else could he do?

He jolted awake, looking around the room frantically expecting it to be filled with scientists ready to strap him in and start up the machine. He only sees one man there, he doesn't recognize him but he holds his hands up and keeps his distance from him while staring at him with something like concern.

"Hey man. You were dreaming, you're not with them anymore. You're out. The year is 2016, we're in France right now. Your name is-"

"James Buchanan Barnes, or it was—I… I know." He sighs heavily and falls back on the bed tiredly. Nightmares always took a lot out of him even though they were in no way a new or rare occurrence. He figures it's a small penance for all he's done, consciously or not. Sam gently sat on the bed beside him.

"It's okay that you're having nightmares, nothing to be ashamed of. We all do. We all have our own baggage. I once told a group I was counseling that some things we bring back with us, others we leave behind."

"It's a little harder to leave things behind when I keep stepping on memories like they're landmines."

"Yeah, there's that." He turned his back on Sam, curling in on himself.

"Don't want to talk anymore?" He asked even though he already knew the answer.

"I don't want to be psychoanalyzed right now, Sam." He mumbled into his pillow.

"Okay." It was quiet for a minute but he didn't feel Sam get up off his bed. Another minute later he felt a warm hand on his back.

"My mom would do this when I had nightmares when I was a kid and after I was discharged." He started rubbing his hand up and down his back and then side to side. It was soothing in a way that reminded him of his father's hand on his back after he came home from a hard day at the mill to barely enough scraps of food to survive another day.

'Don't cha get tired of all this Papa?'

''Course but we gotta keep going. We're going to make it Buck, ya hear me? We're all going to make it.'

He didn't say anything else to Sam, his jaw muscles not wanting to move even to say 'thank you' and he let the movements lull him back to a dreamless sleep.

The next morning he woke up to find the dip in the bed remained. He looked over his shoulder and found Sam slumped against the bedside dresser, his head resting on his arm while his hand was still pressed on his back. His jaw still felt tight, not wanting to flex and let him speak. That happened sometimes, he knew it was probably more psychological than anything else but he needed some way to thank Sam without speaking because that wasn't happening anytime soon. He found himself going to a café he spotted not too far from their temporary residence and he picked up what breakfast he could with the limited people and resources they had. Killer robots had their inconveniences. He was considering starting a list on their pros and cons actually. By the time he got back Sam was awake and was in the bathroom. He set up their food and looked up when Sam came out.

"Oh, I thought you'd headed out on your own way." He said casually coming over to the table to investigate the bags. He did casual a lot better than Steve did but he was one of the best assassins in the world. Reading people was what he did, he could hear the undertone of happiness and surprise in Sam's voice though he didn't address it because he largely still couldn't speak. Ordering at the café had been an adventure. He shrugged before indicating the bags to Sam.

"Still not talking huh? Alright, we'll get by." They ate, Sam telling stories about his nieces that didn't require him to speak back which he was thankful for. They spent the next few hours trying to decide what they should do. They had traveled from through France, if they kept going south eventually they'd reach Spain but he was thinking they should head to Switzerland, it'd be easier to buckle down and he knew of a safe house Natalia had there. It was one of the better ones and he could defend and strengthen the few weak points easily. Sam agreed with his plan, acknowledging it'd be better to be in an official safe house rather than hopping between motel and hotel rooms. They were planning to be back on the road by evening. He thought he'd probably be speaking again by the end of the night when a phone started to vibrate in Sam's pocket. He looked at Sam cautiously as he pulled a burner phone from his pocket. He nodded his head towards the phone and Sam opened it, answering it on speakerphone.

"Hello?"

"Hey birdie." A voice said.

Steve.

Sam looked at him with concern but he knew his face betrayed nothing just like he wanted it to.

"So how's the party?" Sam asked casually.

"Oh you know, Thor was being smug, Tony was being rude and then a crazy robot attacked us."

"So, all in all, just a regular night then?"

"Pretty much." Steve said with a fondness in his voice that he couldn't disguise if he tried, and he didn't.

"How are things really? You and Nat are okay?"

"We're alive, which is more than can be said for a lot of other people." There was something there in his voice, some hitch. Something had happened. Sam seemed to notice it too.

"Steve-"

"Nick's here, didn't think I'd be so happy to see him but he's here and so is Coulson who has apparently been alive this whole time."

"Add him to the list I guess but seriously, what's going on? I know something's wrong."

"Um, it's just this Scarlet Witch woman has a very interesting way of getting into people's head. She got into Nat's, used her to get to Bruce. Spread her influence between them like a virus, Nat isn't taking the mind control thing very well." No, Natalia wouldn't take nicely to any loss of control after everything she'd been through, especially if it meant she had hurt and/or used a teammate of hers.

"I don't blame her. She got into my head too, made me think I was in the 1940s at the Stork Club after V - E Day." He knew what the Stork Club represented, he'd gone to the Smithsonian exhibit. They played the last minutes of Steve and Peggy's goodbye on a loop.

"Cap…"

"Peg and I got that dance finally." Steve tried to make his tone sound light but he failed miserably. That wasn't it though, Peggy was part of it (probably always would be) but there was something else he wasn't saying and Sam knew it too.

"Tell me what else." Sam said firmly. Steve sighed and it sounded wet, like maybe he'd been crying before and didn't want to start again.

"Pepper's dead."

"… What?"

"Ultron… he wants to destroy the team, Tony in particular. The Extremis virus that Pepper was injected with wasn't gone just stabilized so she could function with it. Ultron destabilized it, she was in one of the Stark private jets, she knew what was happening. She tried to get out of the airplane so she wouldn't hurt other people. And then…" Sam turned around and flicked on the television to the news channel. The story was one of the headlines.

There was video footage. The plane looked like it was trying to make an emergency landing on the George Washington Bridge, it was about 100 feet in the air when a strawberry blonde woman jumped out of the emergency door. She looked like she was glowing red but barely a few seconds later she exploded, setting fire to one of the engines. The plane started tipping to the side on its descent. People were getting out of their cars and running from the ensuing wreckage. Then the plane crashed into the grassy median, sliding into a truck which hit a car that hit another sending the three vehicles careening towards the running people and pushing two cars to the very edge of the bridge. The plane then exploded into fire easily setting aflame anything close to it. The video flicked away to an anchorwoman reporting.

"Once again that was footage of the plane crash on the George Washington Bridge just hours ago. We believe it was yet another attack by the artificial intelligence none to us now as Ultron. We aren't sure of all the casualties in the air and on the ground but we do have confirmation that Stark Industries CEO Virginia "Pepper" Potts is in fact deceased. We have also gotten confirmation that Harold "Happy" Hogun, longtime friend and employee of Tony Stark, is also among the dead. No statement has been made from Tony Stark as of yet and we will continue keeping you updated on this event and any others to come in the next days as much as we can."

He looked over to Sam and he looked horrified. Tears were in his eyes but he wasn't sure if he could or should say anything to him. He hadn't known this woman, he couldn't really and truly understand their pain.

"How's Tony taking it?"

"He's not taking it. He went away for a little while then he came back and has been completely consumed with destroying Ultron ever since."

"Can anyone blame him?" He looked away from Sam, giving him some semblance of privacy. The news was showing other footage now of just after the plane crash. Steve was there trying to save the two cars leaning over the edge of the bridge. They fell, only a red bumper remaining in his hands but then the demigod, Thor, came up with one of the cars and a man in a black and grey Iron Man suit held the other. The footage switched to a fight prior to the plane crash. He could clearly see Natalia, her red hair as distinctive as ever. She was approaching the Hulk, the green beast roaring at her. She seemed afraid of him but who wouldn't be? She was talking to him and holding her hand out to him. He seemed to understand whatever she was saying and calmed down, pressing his gargantuan hand against hers before a much larger version of Stark's suit knocked him out. The archer, Barton, hugged her after the beast was down and then the scene flickered to a fight Steve was having with someone, something. The person or thing was moving too fast even for his eyes to really see him. He looked back at Sam as he heard his name.

"I think Bucky could handle a few robots but Ultron, he's coming after you."

"Yeah I noticed."

"Sharon is underground with Peggy, Gabe and the families of the rest of the Commandos. Coulson's team is keeping Jane Foster safe but I just need to know you're okay. We can't risk sending someone out to find you. And after what happened to Pepper... I can't lose you. Not you. I don't think I could come back a third time." He didn't remember ever hearing Steve being that open out loud. Bucky was always able to read him without Steve having to vocalize his thoughts. Maybe it was hearing his voice that raw and vulnerable, maybe it was spending the last few days with Sam or maybe he was just finally ready to handle Steve but he brushed his fingers against his locket drawing comfort from it before he heaved a sigh, stood up and motioned for Sam to pass the phone to him. He looked at him with surprise before giving him a questioning look. He nodded his head and gently took the offered phone. He wasn't sure where to start, how to address him, how to sort out all his thoughts jumbled with what he wanted to say, what he didn't want to say and what he couldn't let himself say. He settled himself, letting Sam's presence and the feel of his locket, heavy around his neck, calm him enough so he could speak for the first time in hours.

"Hey punk." He was met with silence for a long time and almost thought Steve had hung up then a shaky voice said.

"Hey jerk." Before his sobs filled the room.

'Hey none of that. No time for that.' Bucky would've said back then but back then he would've secretly felt he put his foot in his mouth though he'd never say. In lieu of that he simply said.

"Don't worry, I'm protecting your best guy and he's helping me. He's a good man, Aunt Sarah and Ma would like him." He let that statement answer any questions about what he remembered, that'd have to do it for now.

"Hey now, I know he's great but I'm not letting you steal this one Bucky." Steve said with enough playfulness that he was reminded of his best friend from the old neighborhood, constantly by his side and constantly snarking everyone and everything until it got him punched.

"Like you could stop me." He replied, his old Brooklyn accent playing around the edges of his words.

"I could."

"You could not."

"Could too."

"Could not and you know it. Your game, if you want to call it that, is amateur levels compared to mine."

"You two's capacity to go from grouchy old men to juvenile children both astounds and alarms me." All three men chuckled, he felt lighter than he had since Steve found him in that HYDRA lab way back.

"Bucky, I'm-"

"Don't apologize... please." He said it blankly but Steve could read Bucky just as well as he read him so maybe he heard the silent plea.

"I owe you for watching out for Sam."

"Hey! I'm not exactly helpless. Just because I don't have the super soldier muscles like you two doesn't mean I'm an invalid, thank you very much." Sam protested indignantly.

"Yeah, yeah I know. Sorry." Steve answered. He had a feeling Sam's vulnerability was the center of a long-winded argument. He was glad he didn't have that issue with Natalia at least, they had more than enough issues already.

"Still, seriously I owe you Buck."

"No you don't." He said, scoffing. Last he'd seen Steve up close he'd tried to kill him, he was letting him chase him all over kingdom come leaving just enough clues to keep him coming but not enough to tell him what state he was in, he was a part of the reason he wasn't okay but Steve didn't like sympathy and he himself didn't like false placating words so he quickly formulated an answer that would suit them both.

"How about you just watch Natalia's six and we'll be even? Don't let her do anything crazy like that jump in New York. Not that much could stop her but at least try to talk some caution into her."

"Coming from the man who has an unholy aversion to parachutes I doubt it'll mean much." Sam commented.

"Still?" Steve asked with exasperation.

"Are you still jumping off airplanes and skyscrapers with little to no plan on how to land safely?"

Silence.

"Then yes, baby, still."

"I'm sure Natalia loves spending time with you two." He deadpanned.

"Loves it." Sam replied sarcastically. He looked down at the watch on his hand, three minutes was pushing it even on a burner phone.

"We got to go before they track the call." He told Sam and Steve.

"We'll tell you where we are after Ultron's dealt with." Sam said.

"Okay, I love you Birdie." Sam's face softened and a smile bloomed.

"I love you too, Cap."

"Buck, will you be there when I get there?"

"...I don't know."

"Okay." Steve said it simply but he sighed heavily after before continuing.

"Alright just... look out for each other."

"We will. You look out too and wear a parachute at least once damn it." Sam said. Steve was chuckling when he hung up and Sam looked accomplished because of it. He took the phone from him before crushing it with his metal hand and trashing it.

"We should leave now, don't want to take any chances." He grabbed their bags and started heading for the door when Sam stopped him.

"Thank you for talking to him, I know you didn't want to."

"It's not that I didn't want to I just wasn't ready to."

"And now?" He looked at Sam and shrugged.

"I don't know. I just… you were right, he's not okay and it is partly my fault and his friend just died and they used Peggy to mess with his head. The only way I could help him is by letting him know I'd make sure you were okay, that's what I'm doing."

"Nat calls it balancing the red in her ledger." Sam nodded in understanding, Sam was always so damn understanding.

"I know."

"If she could do it, you can too. Just need some friends to help you along the way s'all."

"Like you?" He asked, he wasn't sure he remembered how to be a friend to someone. He and Natalia weren't friends so much as something else and he wasn't exactly friendly to Steve last they met.

"I could be if you want." He looked at Sam and hesitantly stepped closer to him. Sam remained still as he inched closer then slowly and carefully wrapped his flesh arm around Sam's back. It was awkward to say the least, he hadn't hugged someone in a long while. Sam tentatively wrapped his arms around his waist and he forced himself to relax into the hug and wrap his metal arm gently around Sam's shoulders. It took a minute to relax from the rigidness the close contact inspired but he managed to loosen his muscles enough that the hug actually felt… pleasant.

"I'm sorry about your friend." He heard Sam swallow hard.

"Thanks, Pepper was a really great person. A good friend."

"I don't know if I can be a good friend." He confided, because Sam made it easy for him to confide his inner fears and doubts. Sam just had an aura about him that could've loosened even Dum Dum's lips… if he were still alive anyway.

"I think you can be whatever you want to be, that's your choice now. I think that sometimes you might stumble but you won't be the only one, we all will. We're all a little messed up in our own ways. We can stumble through it together if that's what you want but only if it's what you want." He hugged Sam a bit tighter. A year ago all he had was the ice, the kill, the orders, the machine and the pain. Now he could have virtually everything he ever wanted: his blood relatives, Steve, Natalia and friends to fight by his side. It was everything that he'd cherished at different points in his life all converged at this one point for him to grab a hold of if he could just manage to stretch his arm far enough to reach.

"I think I would like that. No, I- I know I want that. I just don't know how to get there."

"Well you've been doing a good job so far so I guess there's some things still knocking around up there, old man." He chuckled at Sam's words before pulling away from the hug, ducking his head down as his cheeks warmed up like in the car.

"Are you blushing again?"

"No." He grumbled.

"Bucky Barnes, I know you're a better liar than that." He shrugged his shoulders and shuffled around a bit before feeling Sam punch his shoulder.

"Hey, friendship isn't rocket science. There's no set rules or regulations, we'll just… take it a step at a time. That good enough?" He looked up at Sam and he was smiling a little at him so he returned it as much as he could (which wasn't much, he had to work on smiling better).

"Yeah, that's good enough."

"Good, now let's get outta here before the killer robots make their appearance."

Maybe he was hopeless, maybe he'd end up in HYDRA's hand soon enough either way. He would probably make mistakes and hurt Sam more times than not and Steve and Natalia too for that matter but maybe part of being a friend was recognizing that you were hurting someone and making strides to change that. Hell, maybe he was just pulling things out of his ass or some of Bucky's sometimes dumbass logic was slipping back, who knew? But maybe he'd figure it out in Switzerland with Sam, they'd probably have time for it. He'd add it to the list of benefits from the killer robots.