Disclaimer – No copyright infringement intended. Characters belong to Marvel/Disney/their creators. Any similarity to events or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Notes – Thanks as always to my dear friend Cindy Ryan. So glad you're my pal! This takes place pretty much all over the Captain America trilogy timeline.

Haunted – Brooklyn, New York feels like forever ago to the Winter Soldier. Because it was. Bucky struggles to remember guideposts from his past, touchstones to keep him grounded in a world gone haywire.

The memories are fragmented at best. They're overwhelming in number and frustratingly out of order. Bits and pieces come at him from all angles, and he fights to sift through them, ignoring the men around him, the orders being barked at him.

The problem is, he doesn't remember him like that, not really, not as much.

He remembers a punk, a kid, someone slight, someone short, someone with a heart bigger than all of Manhattan.

He struggles to remember, because he's not just a designation, not just a number, not just a tool, an assassin. For the first time in a long time, he starts to think that he's not just a soldier to follow orders, but he's a man, someone with a past, someone with a history, someone with people who care about him.

Steve. He remembers Steve.

And when Pierce's hand connects with his face, he sees red for the briefest of moments, because he sees his father, too, and the memories start to crystallize. It's not just blue eyes looking at him from across the schoolroom now. It's games of stick ball on sunny Saturdays in empty streets. It's enduring Sunday School so that he can go home with Steve for Mrs. Rogers' famous meatloaf and apple pie for lunch. It's sleepovers on the floor, a fort made from the couch cushions and blankets. It's blissfully a boyhood existence, one without sisters for a while because...

He feels like he's been run over by a truck. He has sisters. Three of them. Lily, Violet, and Rose. They used to write him letters when he went to war.

Germany. Hitler. Red Skull.

Steve.

Zola.

It's like the floodgates are open now. Like his life was hiding behind a dam and it burst, all because of Steve.

Steve is his mission, but as he's slammed back into the seat, into the machine that's about to wipe his memories clean again, he remembers that Steve was always his mission, from that very first day, when Rosie came running to him across the playground, fear in her eyes...

When the pain starts, he's desperate to hang onto that moment, to grip it tight with his fingers, his arms, his very heart and soul.

She was quite possibly the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen in his life. His very young life, but still. She had to be an angel sent to earth, with her soft brown curls tied back in a periwinkle ribbon that matched her bright blue eyes. School had just ended, and he had to walk his sisters home, but Nora Manetti's home was only a handful of blocks past their apartment. James Buchanan – Bucky – Barnes was sure he could walk with her, let his sisters spin and twirl ahead of them. His smile came easily – it always did. "Hey, Nora," Bucky said, watching as she turned those bright blue eyes to him.

She smiled shyly. "Oh," she said softly, almost surprised to see him so close. "Hi, Bucky."

"I was wondering if –" he began, but his question was cut off before he could really even get it started.

"Bucky!" screamed a shrill Rosie, running as fast as her little five year old legs could take her.

He felt like he'd been doused in ice water, his intense gaze suddenly on his youngest sister who barreled into him. "What's wrong?" he asked as she tugged on his shirt to get him to move with her.

"It's Vi! You have to hurry!"

"Sorry, Nora," Bucky tossed over his shoulder as he scooped Rose into his arms. "Where?" he asked as he began to tear through the playground, following where his youngest sister pointed. He wasn't sure he liked how scared she was, that she was trembling against him, that her other hand held onto his collar in a death grip, her tiny fingers icy cold against the back of his neck.

He knew that Violet had been having trouble with a boy in her class, a bully with curly red hair, skin covered in freckles. While their mother had been insistent that it wasn't that bad, that it only meant that Donal liked Violet, the shy, bookish girl wasn't sure about that and because of his sister's hesitance, neither was Bucky.

By the time they got to the swings, Lily was hugging Violet – who held her broken glasses in anguish, and the whole left side of her dress was covered in dirt where she'd clearly hit the ground. He put Rose down, reaching out to put a big brotherly hand on Violet's shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"My glasses," she whispered, showing him the bent frames.

He knew that would be another fight once they got home, but he'd handle it. Like he was going to handle the boy who'd hurt her. "Where is he?" he asked, searching his sister's teary brown eyes.

Lily answered for Violet. "He and Steve Rogers are behind the shed," she told him, wincing a bit.

Everybody in school knew Steve. Bucky knew he was sickly a lot, small for his age. And he knew Donal was stocky, the son of a dockworker. It wasn't an even fight at all. He winced, a little afraid he'd be scooping up what was left of Steve.

Everybody in the school also knew there was only one place on the yard that was out of view from the teachers, and that was behind the lean-to that held the grounds equipment.

Bucky had been in more than his fair share of fights back there and had come away with bruised knuckles, black eyes, and an understanding of how to move – how to put out damage, and how to avoid taking it. "I'll be back in a minute," he told them, looking from Violet to Lily, holding her gaze until she nodded solemnly. Bucky couldn't leave them alone without knowing that Lily would make sure they all got somewhere safe without him. Though Rosie tried to hold onto his shirt, he removed her fingers gently, and tucked her in with his other sisters.

By the time he reached the back of the shed, there was quite a crowd that had gathered around to watch. Most were laughing, and Bucky could hear the sound of fists hitting flesh, a sound that made his stomach churn if he were being honest. He was a big brother, though, a young man, a boy that was going to grow up to be someone strong and tough, and he wasn't about to let anyone get away with hurting his sisters.

Shoving his way through the crowd, he spotted Steve getting up slowly, his nose bloody, a cut on his cheek, and a bruise already purpling under his right eye. "Why don't you pick on somebody your own size?" Bucky asked, his hands already clenching into fists. His arms were down at his sides, though, his body relaxed, almost like he'd casually asked which way to the soda shop.

"I got this guy, don't worry," Steve said between deep, gasping breaths.

It looked to Bucky like a good gust of wind would send the slight boy sprawling onto the ground again, and that it might be the kind of hit that would keep Steve down. "Tell you what," Bucky began, watching as Donal turned – he hadn't even broken a sweat. Yet. "We'll take this guy together, yeah?"

Steve smiled a little, giving Bucky a quick nod.

Donal laughed, and took a swing at Bucky but he easily dodged it, landing one of his own on Donal's jaw, who was already unbalanced from missing his target.

With Donal swaying on his feet, Steve managed to kick, his scuffed shoe connecting solidly with the bully's shin.

Donal was so furious that he ignored Steve entirely, returning his focus solely to Bucky, coming at him with rage, but the attack was still unfocused, sloppy.

Two more solid punches from Bucky and Donal was falling onto his butt on the packed dirt. He knelt down, jerking Donal back up to look at him. "You so much as look at my sister again, we're gonna be right back out here, and I'll knock teeth out next time," he warned.

"You and what army?" Donal scoffed, trying to save face in front of the now silent crowd of boys around them.

"Just me and Steve," he said simply. "That's all it's ever gonna take," Bucky told him, releasing his shirt, which made Donal fall back, his head bouncing as it landed. He stood, dusting his hands off on his slacks. With one look, the crowd parted, and Bucky walked out, his head high, Steve right behind him.

"Thank you," Bucky said quietly as they headed around from the shed, his eyes searching the yard for his sisters – they weren't where he'd left them.

"I had him on the ropes," Steve said, shrugging.

Bucky smiled a little, unsure if Steve was a liar or just that optimistic. "You stood up for my sister," he said, his shoulders relaxing when he realized that Lily had herded Violet and Rosie to a bench, and that Lily was trying to gently unbend the glasses. He turned to look at Steve. "That means something to me."

Steve shrugged a shoulder. "Donal's a bully. He shouldn't pick on your sister – or anyone else."

"Hopefully he won't again. Because of us. I'm Bucky," he said.

He smiled. "Steve Rogers."

Bucky chuckled. "Steve, you wanna help me look after my sisters on the way home? We aren't too far. Tompkins and Pulaski."

"It's my way home anyway," he said. "I'm on Hart." As Bucky took a step toward his sisters, though, Steve stopped him. "Hey... did you mean what you said back there?"

Bucky turned back to look at him, and frowned, not sure what he'd said that hadn't been believable. "About what?"

"That you and me, we'd stop him again."

Bucky blinked. "Well, yeah. We stopped him this time, didn't we?"

Steve smiled slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, we did."

"You need some ice or somethin', pal? Your folks gonna be upset if you come home with a shiner?" There was a little diner that sometimes he'd stop at on the way home – one that understood that boys were boys, and that would usually let him buy a treat for his sisters to share while he held a cold cloth to his eye and waited for the swelling to go down. It would be the first time Bucky wouldn't need the ice for himself.

"Sounds like a pretty good idea," admitted Steve with a smile.

Bucky nodded, and they collected his sisters. He threw a big brotherly arm around Violet, and Rosie, to his surprise, grabbed Steve's hand as they walked to the diner. Once there, he made sure his sisters took one booth with a generous slice of carrot cake, and he slid across from Steve in another.

Steve winced as he pressed the ice against his eye. "My mom's a nurse," he said quietly. "But she's on shift right now."

"She work late nights?" he asked, surprised. His mom didn't work. She'd be at home, already working on a roast that would drive Bucky insane until 7:30, when dinner would be promptly served. His stomach growled in anticipation at the thought.

"Sometimes," Steve said, and he grew quiet.

"What's your dad do?" he asked, running his fingers across the grain on the wooden table.

Steve remained quiet for a long moment before finally looking up at Bucky, through one eye. "My dad died when I was young."

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, and he was, although his mind drifted to a dark place, a place where he wished it hadn't gone. He tried to shove those thoughts aside as quickly as they'd surfaced.

"He was a soldier. The 107th infantry. A hero," Steve told him.

"Like you, huh?" he asked, smiling a little.

Steve laughed warmly. "No, not like me at all."

"You're a hero to Vi," he said, nodding to the booth across the aisle from them. "Who knows what might've happened if you hadn't gotten there when you did."

"Well," Steve said slowly, "I'm glad I could help her."

"Me, too," Bucky admitted, and he glanced at Violet, who looked to be in much better spirits, especially with a bite of cake on her fork. He smiled softly, almost absently, but it was clearly a look that Steve caught.

"What's it like?" he asked. "Having sisters?"

Bucky laughed, leaning back against the booth. "Boring," he told him. "I hear a lot about clothes and hair bows. The kind of weddings they're all going to have when they grow up." While he rolled his eyes, he adored his sisters – all three of them. But sometimes they could be a little much.

"Do you have any brothers?"

He shook his head. "No, it's just me and them. Sometimes I wish I had brothers. Sometimes I'm glad I'm the only one."

While Steve tilted his head, he didn't press, which Bucky appreciated.

"What about you?" he asked.

"It's just me and my mom," he said, shrugging. "And me coming home with a black eye isn't exactly new." Steve slowly lowered the ice pack. "How's it looking?"

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, wincing. "Pretty dark," he admitted. "Are you sure you'll be all right on your own?"

"I have been so far," Steve promised.

"Hey, listen, I should get the girls headed home. Maybe we could walk to school together tomorrow? I set out as early as I can with them, but sometimes they take a while to get ready." Bucky glanced at his sisters, still not sure how they could take so long to dress in the mornings.

"I'll wait at my building, then, till I see you."

Bucky smiled. "Sounds good." He dug into his pocket, pulling out change for the slice of cake and nodding to the diner owner, who only chuckled as they left.

After three blocks, Bucky waved goodbye to Steve. In the final block of the walk, he felt a growing, gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach, like the night was going to be terrible, awful. It was a familiar sensation, and he always did his best to ignore it, to fight it, but it was a losing battle.

Feeling eyes on him, he glanced at Lily, who was watching him worriedly. He gave her a gentle smile, though, and they slowed their walk, Violet and Rose skipping ahead, giggling as they repeated a hopscotch rhyme. "Maybe take Vi and Rosie to bed early tonight?" he asked her quietly.

"It's not fair, Bucky," she told him.

"You know it's the only way." He shrugged a shoulder. "And that it's better this way."

Lily drew in a slow breath. "Here," she said, offering him Violet's still bent glasses. "I did everything I could."

"I know you did." He met her eyes. "Now it's my turn."

She nodded a little. "I wish you'd seen him. Steve getting between her and Donal. I'd never seen anyone do that before, besides you."

Bucky nodded. "He seems like a good guy. He's not... He's not who I thought he was." Because Steve was ill all the time, and because he was always in fights that ended badly, he had assumed – wrongly – that Steve was getting bullied with no one to stand up for him. He hadn't even stopped to consider, for one second, that Steve was standing up, even as wheezy and sickly as he was. If Steve could do that, knowing he'd never win, well, that was an interesting concept, and it was something that resonated with him.

Lily stopped fully. "I'm really glad you're my big brother," she told him suddenly.

He looked at her, perplexed for a moment, then he smiled. "Why wouldn't you be?" he teased. But he froze suddenly. Violet and Rose had reached the stoop, and he watched as they were scooped up into strong arms.

Lily hugged him tightly, and for a moment, he held on for dear life.

"Go," Bucky told her. "It'll be all right," he promised. And he hoped it was a promise he was able to keep.

Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes will Return...

Lines from the Next Installment:

"Hey, you never have told me why," Steve said, settling back against his pillow.

"Why what?" he asked, frowning.

Steve met his eyes. "Why your folks would name you after a President, and not keep a family name."

Bucky hesitated for a long moment, but they were long past the point where should be keeping any secrets. There were still a few that he kept quiet, hidden, but they gnawed at him.