Finding Home

Summary: Bucky was trying to become himself again. It wasn't easy. He was an outcast in the world, and he didn't even remember who he was trying to be. Yet, somehow, Bucky was lucky enough to have a friend in Steve Rogers, and a budding friendship with the Avengers. Soon, Bucky will find himself, whether it is his old self, his something new.

AN: The Avengers, as in the movie, isn't a TV series, where a character develops over time(not counting the hundreds of cartoon series). I, personally, have to study a characters for forever before I can understand them and write a story about them. That's one of the reasons why I have so few movie fanfics. However, I love Bucky, and his story, as well as his never-ending friendship with Steve so I'll try my best. I don't see many fics with Bucky and the Avengers so I think I'll enjoy this.

PS. I doubt there will be romance. If you do know of any stories, please-! Share! As well as any ideas for my oneshots. *bows* I'll do my best! I OWN NOTHING!

"Flashbacks." Throughout all of my oneshots, Bucky will experience all kinds of memories and flashbacks, chased by any given thing, but won't really... Dwell on it... Or remember... Bucky will just go through life having this moments thrown at him and continue to move forward.

~?~?~?~

He was so numb. So cold. He couldn't feel the world around him as his mind was bombarded by memories he couldn't make sense of.

"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes."

"I'm not gonna fight you… You're my friend."

"...Then finish it… 'Cause I'm with you til the end of the line…"

He stumbled, gasping for breath as suddenly it was too hard to breath. That blonde hair, a physique that was once small and scrawny, those blue eyes. He could remember. That was Steve- His comrade? … His friend… What was Steve?!

"Bucky?"

...Bucky...? Oh… That was him… Through dazed, brown eyes, he looked up, meeting the gaze of worried, blue eyes. So familiar.

"Steve…" Bucky whispered, before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed.

"Bucky!"

~Later~

Bucky screamed, unimaginable pain coursing through his body, and no matter how much he begged for them to stop, or screamed why, all they did was stare with their cold eyes.

Light flooded around him, the darkness receding as brown eyes blinked tiredly. Bucky shifted, groaning when his body began to ache more and his scarred stump, under all of that metal, screamed in protest.

"Bucky? You awake?"

Bucky blinked, his vision clearing to reveal that all too familiar "apple pie America". "...Steve...?"

The blonde smiled. "Yea Bucky, it's me."

Bucky groaned again, bringing his real hand up to knead at his eyes, smearing the black makeup. "...What happened...?" he asked, gritting his teeth against a headache.

Steve frowned. "I was hoping you could tell me. You just appeared at the tower's doorstep," he said.

"Tower?" Bucky whispered, then opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling.

Home… Have to find home… Where is home…? What is home…?

A bright smile. "Bucky!"

"Steve… Steve is home…"

"I remember," Bucky said shortly.

"Bucky?" Steve asked, poorly concealed hope in his voice.

The winter soldier continued. "I remember wanting home… and found the Stark Tower," he said, his eyes narrowing. "...What is home?"

Steve sighed, smiling sadly. He stood up and Bucky noticed they were in a modest bedroom. "Come on Bucky," Steve said, "You stink, and you're skin and bones. Let me take care of you for once."

"Pneumonia again punk?"

"I can't help it jerk. My body is too weak…"

*chuckle* "Don't worry, I'll take care of you."

Bucky remained silent, allowing the other man to lift and carry him to another room; a bathroom, with a large tub. Bucky was detached as the tub began to fill, and he was then stripped bare, just as naked on the outside as he was on the inside, before he was placed into the tub. Bucky idly raised his flesh hand, covered in bubbles; the water was warm, the perfect temperature for his chilled skin.

Cold water was thrown on him; he screamed as white, hot pain overtook his body.

Bucky didn't speak but Steve did; talking and talking, that sunshiney smile never leaving his face. At first, while washing his face of dirt and black paint, Steve talked about the Avengers, and about the Battle of Manhattan. Then, as his hair was being washed and his scalp scrubbed, Steve spoke of the world they now lived in. Without his notice, Bucky began to feel calm, almost… at peace… Steve's rambling, the warm suds, the scent of vanilla… It all almost seemed familiar…

"Bucky?"

Bucky blinked, looking over his shoulder. When had he left the tub? He was sitting on a stool, a warm, plush towel draped over his shoulder as Steve dried his hair.

Bucky tilted his head to the side. "...What?" he asked, his voice still a little raspy from disuse.

Steve smiled, and held up a closed razor. "Mind if I give you a shave?"

"Why don't you ever shave your own face?"

"Haha, 'cause you do it better Stevie! Razor burns hurt!"

Bucky said nothing, merely tilting his head back. Bucky's eyes widened briefly as he realized what he had done. How much did he trust this man, without even noticing or feeling anything?

Steve smiled at the trust the ex-assassin was showing him. Steve was using an old razor, as he knew it better, and Bucky was willingly exposing his neck to him; one stroke and Steve could kill the other man, but Bucky trusted him. Steve shuffled to the sink for shaving cream; Bucky may not be himself, but Steve saw him in there, under all the pain and suffering.

Bucky remained silent, listening idly as the blade ran over his face, scraping off lather and cutting the bristles from his skin. The feeling of it was almost familiar, and he heard more voices, more memories of a past he couldn't remember. When Steve finished, he gently wiped the access from Bucky's face, before cleaning with water, and then rubbing aftershave into his skin. (I'm a single woman, I know nothing)

Steve straightened and left Bucky for a moment, returning with a pair of sweatpants and a white, cotton shirt. Bucky dressed, staring at his metal arm when he accidently ripped the seam of his shirt. Steve didn't seem to mind as he forgave him and then led him to a kitchenette; there was a small, simmering pot on a burner.

Bucky allowed himself to be sat down and he watched with analyzing eyes. Steve was filling a bowl with thick oatmeal, which he then topped with chopped almonds, sliced strawberries, and brown sugar. When Steve sat across from him and offered him a spoonful, Bucky didn't protest, silently chewing on the mushy oats one bite after another.

Steve smiled at him. "Are you okay Bucky?" he asked, using his thumb to wipe the corner of Bucky's mouth.

Bucky swallowed, looking down. "...I don't know," he whispered, then looked at Steve. "...Who am I again?"

Steve smiled, cuffing the other man's cheek. "You are James Buchanan Barnes," he said, confidence in his tone, "And my friend, Bucky."

Bucky tilted his head. "Bucky…" he murmured thoughtfully, "I don't know who that is… I don't know if I ever will…"

Steve chuckled. "I'll show you," he said, "I'm with you til the end of the line Bucky."

That phrase again.

"We're brothers Steve. I'll always be there for you. I'm your shadow now, punk."

A bright, warm smile. "Jerk."

Bucky looked down. "...I'm broken…" he said quietly, closing his eyes as screams overtook his mind.

Bucky's eyes snapped open in shock as suddenly he was hugged tightly. At first, his metal hand twitched, reaching for a knife that wasn't there, and his trigger finger locked, pulling the trigger of an invisible gun, before finally he went limp, his head falling onto Steve's shoulder. Steve held the other man close, one hand supporting his back while the other was on his head, massaging the ex-assassin's scalp.

"I'll fix you," Steve swore.

End.

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Kintsukuroi: "to repair with gold". The first thing that came to mind when I finished this; it is the art of repairing pottery with gold or silver lacquer, and understanding that the piece is more beautiful for having been broken. I think it fits. Bucky is the pottery, and Steve is the gold.

Once again, any ideas, please share and I'll try to put it in, while of course, putting down your name. I'm fifty-fifty on whether or not this will be a 'story', in chronological order, or if it will be a bunch of oneshots.

Anyways, till next time,

Ja ne~!