"When you are old and on your deathbed, looking back at your life it's not going to be the films you've made or what you've accomplished, it's the relationships you have.

You're survived by the things that matter- the people you love and those who love you back." –Chris Evans

The first time that he fell in love it was blinding.

He had been told that it was going to be like that. Where just the sight of her would send a shock wave down his spine and electrocute sense into him- telling him that by her side was where he needed to be. That was how it was the first time. She had red lips and a bright smile that made even the brownest eyes deep, blinding pools. She made him try things that he never wanted to, weird foods and dancing. She was always thirsty for a new sort of adventure to drag him on. Something to show him, something that they could discover together to keep things as exciting and electric as they day that they met. The first time that he fell in love it had been exactly what he had expected while being nothing like what he had imagined it could be at all. The first time was blinding. And when it ended, it hurt.

The second time he fell in love it was surprising. He hadn't been looking for anything but a cup of coffee and found her in the line. They spent nights together and days apart and neither of them thought to question why it didn't bother them until they stopped calling each other. They stopped texting through the day. They made excuses not to come over at night because they were tired. It ended very quietly, and though it sometimes stung, the hollow ease that the separation gave him had Bucky wonder from time to time if it was ever really love at all.

The third time he fell in love he just knew. It was accidental. Like flexing a muscle that he'd forgotten that he had for a little while, small tension easing out a soreness that needed to be attended too. And even though it was something he had never expected they feel so easily out of friendship and into "more," that he knew there was no other word for it. They were each other's person. Never feeling like they had to fill silence needlessly, always appreciating the feeling of the other's presence without having to fill it up with words. He was fun and had the kind of laugh that made him throw his head back when it fell out. And the kind of love that he felt for him made him feel like there was no other kind of love in the world. It was everything that the others were. Electric and surprising, but more than that it was warm. He was everything. The third time that he fell in love he knew that it would be the last time. He knew that this kind of love was the only love worth having. He knew that every other love would be ruined thereafter and no other love would make him feel like Steve did. What he didn't know was that even this love sometimes finds an end.

The apartment was dark when he finally got back, the blinding sun pouring through the doorway behind him, casting his long shadow across the floor. He thought about flipping on a light but soon gave up on that idea when he shut the door behind him, cutting off the day so he could wallow in the more appropriate energy that the lack of it brought. He dropped his keys on the table next to the door and shuffled over to the couch. He started to kick off his shoes but decided it didn't really matter anymore before he fell over the arm of the couch and closed his eyes. Steve would have thrown a fit. He hated it when Bucky wore his shoes on the carpet. But it was just his carpet now and Bucky decided that he didn't care.

He closed his eyes, head hurting where it hit the pillows, the whiplash from accident still affecting his equilibrium days after and making the world feel like he was constantly being pulled in and out of time. Steve would have liked that. The idea of being a man out of time would have been nothing for him because he could handle everything. Steve was that guy. They guy you went to when the world was falling apart. He never tried to fix it, he just made it better somehow. Steve made it easy not to care about small things. He was that guy. And Bucky ached to have him back.

He needed to get up and get into bed before he didn't have the energy, but there were a lot of things that Bucky needed to do. He needed to change his bandaging. He needed to take off his suit before he sweat through and wrinkled it. He needed to shower. He needed to take his medicine but he didn't want to move, he just wanted to lay on the couch and smell up all of the Steve sent that it had left in it before it was gone.

"Lift." The doctor directed, giving his stump a little nudge until he had enough momentum to get it up. It was weird lifting the nub. He still felt like the whole arm was there weighing him down, the only thing that reminded him that it was gone was the little sting that the hit his stitches when it moved through the air and the soreness of skin that felt too stretched. He stared at the wall while the doctor poked at him and moved him around trying to focus on anything but what he was doing and how he was feeling. The walls were a puke pink color and there was a framed poster on the wall of a smiling woman who was apparently living with HIV. He wondered if that poster was in every exam room or if he had just lucked into it. And if it wasn't the same in every room he wondered what else they were trying to glorify. Not that he'd ask but it was nice to have something to think about. It made him feel almost relaxed. The doctor moved away from him and clicked his pen, marking on the chart he'd brought with him to their appointment. He scribbled for a minute before he sat on the little wheeled stool that was in front of him and examined Bucky with a little pity frown. He was used to it. It was the look that everyone gave him now. The default expression. "How are you feeling?" he asked after a long minute of both of them just looking at each other.

Bucky gave him a lopsided shrug. "Sore." He told him. It was a half truth. He was actually feeling a lot of things but sore was up at the top of his list with anxious and lonely and awful.

The doctor nodded frowning a little more as he scribbled something. Bucky hoped that it wasn't some kind of precautionary psyche evaluation. The last thing that he wanted was mandated talk time after his physical therapy sessions. "Anything else?" he asked.

Bucky shrugged and faked an easy smile. "Tired. Restless, I feel a lot of things Doc."

"That's normal." He told him and Bucky felt himself relax a little bit. It didn't matter how bad you were feeling, it was always a little bit of a relief to be told that you should be feeling the way you do. "Your stitches are healing up nicely too." He told him with a clinical smile. "I would say that we can start therapy soon and maybe start looking into a prosthetic."

Bucky nodded and pulled his shirt back over his head. His hair was still army short even though he'd been home for two weeks and his last cut was at least a week before his caravan exploded. He wondered idly if he would always be telling time that way, either before or after the accident. Probably. He didn't want to think about it. The doctor helped him into his jacket and walked him back out to the front room. There were lots of injured vets in the waiting room. Some of them were too spaced out to really notice him, others letting their families dot on them, some of them fidgeting and looking around like they thought the next attack was coming at any second. Bucky didn't know what he had done to end up here. He didn't know what Steve had done to end up nowhere. Steve had been so sure that they wouldn't be the people that you heard about on the news when they joined up. He was overconfident and too trusting of other people to see his own downfall looking them in the face. And Bucky just followed him blindly, because that was what he did. He followed Steve into the fight and pulled him back out before he was hit one too many times. Turns out that one hit was all it took.

"Where were you when the Towers fell?"

Bucky shifted uncomfortably in his seat. A buddy of his that had already gone through recruiting told him they would ask and that he'd better think of a good answer. It bothered him but mostly he was just worried. Bucky had never been a good liar. A charmer sure, but those two things weren't always mutually exclusive. He already knew that Steve would be fuming at this, 'There is no good answer for terrorism,' He would say or some other shit that would make everyone stop and hear him out. Steve was like that, born to be a star-spangled man. Bucky just wasn't that guy. "I was at my parent's old place, sir." He told him truthfully. His sister had just left for her last high school semester in some boarding school in England she'd gotten a full ride for. It was her house now, well it was waiting for her when she was ready for it. Their parents left it to them in their will but Bucky didn't want it. He knew Beccs would appreciate it more so he left it to her. "I was grabbing some of my sister's stuff to send to her and the neighbors just started screaming. So I went outside and we all just kind of stopped." It was weird thinking about it. None of it seemed real. It was the kind of thing that you saw in a movie or on the news but you never expected to be close enough to watch something like that happen.

The man nodded and looked over his papers smiling a little when he saw his father's name, "I knew you seemed familiar, George's kid?" he asked and Bucky nodded. The man just smile and shook his head looking at the rest of his file before he stamped it and shook his head. "Welcome to the army." He told him standing. They shook hands and he added, "You're old man would be proud of you."

Bucky nodded and thanked him before rushing out of the room. He wasn't sure how his dad would feel about it, he had passed so long ago that he could hardly remember what he looked like sometimes and he wasn't overly fond of being compared to him. Steve was waiting for him in the hall when he got out, a stupid grin plastered across his face. Of all the things about Steve that had changed over the years, that smile was never one of them. He had gone from being a skinny stick of a kid to the picture perfect all American boy- but to Bucky he would always be the punk ass kid who couldn't walk away from a fight. "What are you cheesing about?" he asked with a smirk when he got up and showed him the stamp on his paper.

"Looks like you won't be the only one stirring up trouble overseas." He told him with a laugh.

Bucky took the paper from him and skipped a couple steps ahead of him so he couldn't snatch it back. "How the hell did you get them to let you in?" he demanded. Steve may have filled out over the years but it hadn't gotten rid of his asthma or high blood pressure or any of the millions of other things that were wrong with him.

Steve caught up to him as they pushed out the door and out into the busy city streets and shrugged. "I can be very convincing." He told him vaguely.

Bucky just rolled his eyes, waiting till the recruiting office was out of view to grab his hand.

"Hey Buck, sorry I missed you. Was thinking about coming to town for a few days… call me." Beeeeeep.

"Hey man! Haven't heard back from you yet but just wanted to let you know that we all miss you out here. Get better and I'll call you next time I get my hands on a phone." Beeeeeep.

"James, It's Peggy. Call me back, I want to know how you are doing." No beep… "Really, please call." Beeeeep.

Bucky sighed and picked up the phone. He didn't want to but he knew that he needed to call Peggy back. She had been one of Steve's best friends, there was no way that she was dealing with any of this very well. He should call Sam and Dum Dum too but they would have to settle for an email apology until they could get their hands on a sat phone again. He played the last message again and hit redial trying to keep his feet still while it rang a few times and Peggy picked up. "James." She actually sounded happy to hear from him. He thought for a minute that she might cry but he knew better, Peggy was a hard woman to crack.

He cleared his throat past the surprising tightness clenching his muscles, it was good to hear her voice, better than he had expected. "Hey Peggs." He grinned into the phone and leaned against the counter. "How're you doing?"

"Bloody awful." She told him bluntly but quickly moved past her own feelings. "Like that matters. How are you?"

He hissed out a small laugh. "Well you know." He shrugged, forgetting himself for a moment and flinched when his nub stretched too far. "I've been better." He wanted to say that he'd been worse but Bucky was pretty sure that this was as bad as things got. Dead boyfriend, missing limb. He just needed to start drinking and he would officially be at rock bottom.

Peggy was quiet for a minute before she cleared her throat and pushed on like only Peggy could do. "I'm in New York for the next few months." She told him, "I would like to see you."

"Sure thing." He told her actually looking forward to it. They made a little more small talk and set a date before he hung up with her feeling a little better than he had before. A little.

Bucky had always really liked New York. He liked how busy and random it was and he liked knowing that you could get sucked into anything at any one moment. Steve had never been that big of a fan, he'd always preferred Brooklyn- only venturing out when he was dragged there by Bucky. No one looked at him in the city. He liked it that way, he could blend into the crowd and become a ghost. No pity glances, no anything but busy people walking by and Peggy waving at him from the corner cafe. He grinned at her she gave him a careful hug before they grabbed their coffee and found a seat outside. It was out but it was chilly making him feel okay about leaving his jacket on, clumsily handling his mug with just his right hand. Peggy didn't watch him. He was glad. "So what are you doing here?" he asked finally after they watched the people walking by long enough to get comfortable.

She peaked up at him and pressed her lips together. "Business mostly." She told him.

Bucky caught on. "Mostly?" he asked.

"Mostly." Peggy nodded. She looked him dead in the eye, guilt only barely tainting her face. He prepared himself for what was coming next but didn't say anything to prompt her. She continued on her own after a minute. "I have a favor to ask you."

Bucky frown. "Sure." He told her easily.

She nodded. "Are you familiar with Stark industries?" She asked him. Bucky fixed her with a look and let his eyes drift to Stark Tower that was literally towering above them just a few blocks down. Of course he was familiar with the Stark's, super rich and super smart with their name on almost every new kind of tech. Pretty much everything in the army had their names on it. Peggy continued. "The CEO thinks that he might have made a new kind of advanced prosthetic and is looking for a… ah… test subject."

Oh. "You want me to try on an arm?" he asked feeling tired already trying to think of a good reason why he shouldn't even though everything in his body told him that it was a bad idea.

Peggy nodded. "I know it's the last thing on your mind." She told him "But you have to miss…" her eyes shifted to his empty sleeve and he instinctively pulled his jacket tighter around him.

"You aren't going to let me say no are you?" he asked.

She shook her head, "I told him we'd be there in an hour." She told him.

Bucky tried not to roll his eyes and seem calm even though this was about the last thing he wanted. But Peggy was a pusher and she would keep pushing and pushing him until he wound up there anyway. What could one meeting hurt? "Fine."

Tony Stark believed in science. That fact was plastered next to his face on over 10 thousand billboards all across America and southern Canada. The Stark's believed in science. Everything they did backed that up- from the millions of medical miracles that they helped happen with their technology to their revolutionary take over of the weapons industry. When you saw Stark, you thought science. That was their deal. It wasn't hard to Tony Stark to do science, he was made for it, his mind constantly moving and craving more answers to questions that no one had bothered asking yet. He was too easily bored by ordinary things and ordinary people. He wanted advancement and challenge and complications. Tony wanted to cure the world of side effects and be the only answer to any problem. It was easy for Bucky to see why people thought he was overwhelming.

He sat on a chair that reminded him of the dentist in the middle of the room while Tony and Peggy spoke softly at each other off in the corner to try and spare his feelings, only making him feel more like a mazed rat. He tried to ignore it, leaning back into the chair. It wasn't uncomfortable, but then again neither was the chair at the dentist's or the doctor's office until they started to poke or prod you-which it exactly what he had come here to allow them to do. He was seriously considering leaving just when Tony Stark rolled over to him in a high backed chair and started flipping through a stack of papers. "Sergeant Barnes." He said looking up just briefly at him before his eyes went back to the paper. It was the second time that he had spoken to him since they got there but it might as well have been the first. When his assistant lead them to the lab he had them stand there for about five minutes before he could put down whatever he was working on and tell Bucky to sit and dive into whatever him and Peggy had been talking about.

He didn't say anything back, but he figured that he didn't have to. He wasn't really asking Bucky anything, just stating who he was like they had some kind of invisible audience and this was an old operating theater. So he just watched him, eyes moving fast over the script in his hands. Tony spoke again. "Born in March- Pisces…" he grimaced like that was a bad thing, "5' 9"." he muttered to himself and looked Bucky up and down, "It says here that you are an even 210lbs but," his eyes flicked to the numb, "Let's just say 200lbs."

Bucky didn't flinch he just looked at him weird feeling a little creeped out. "What are you reading off of?" he asked.

Tony just continued. "Half a degree in History then six years of active duty in Iraq." When he looked at Bucky this time there was a curiosity there. "Discharged due to injury after caravan explosion." he finished and sat back in his chair.

"Is that my personal file?" He asked as Tony pushed himself over to a desk in the corner and pulled out a box with wires and little flesh colored pads connected to them.

"May I?" he asked gesturing with one of the pads in answer but didn't wait for Bucky to say yes or no. He pushed up his jacket off of his gimp shoulder and pushed his sleeve up to reveal the scarring skin. The doctors all called it his arm but there wasn't much of it left- barely three inches jutting out from his shoulder, enough to move but not to use. Quick but carefully, Tony applied the pads, one on the bottom of the nub next to where his stitches were starting to dissolve, one on the back of his shoulder and another just under his armpit. "Make a fist." Tony told him.

Bucky fixed him with a look, "You're kidding right?" Tony raised his eyebrow, his face asking very plainly what was wrong with his request. "My hand was kind of blown off. Can't make a fist with no hand."

"Just close your eyes and pretend you have one." Tony told him picking up his papers again, already bored with Bucky. He was probably writing him off right then. Good. Bucky didn't want to do this stupid experiment anyway.

He thought about getting up again but Peggy muttered, "James." from where she was still standing in the corner of the room. He met her solid, determined eyes and thought about what kind of strings she might have had to pull to even get him this chance. How she was trying to get him back some kind of normal in his obliterated life. Bucky settled back in the chair and closed his eyes. Make a first, he told himself and just kind of sat there in the quiet waiting. He told himself to clench and unclench it remembering what it was like to move his hand, how it felt when Steve used to hold his hand, the little reassuring squeezes that only he could make not lame.

There was a weird clicking sound and he opened his eyes looking toward the little box that was sitting on the table next to him then he looked back at Peggy who was also looking at the box, a little light in her eyes. Tony was watching just him, brows wound tight and his lips pursed. "What are you doing tomorrow?" he asked.

Bucky asked Peggy to go with him but had a job that paid her to do more than sit around and watch him get poked at. He still wished she was there. He felt like a child trying to buy tickets to a movie he wasn't old enough to see, walking up to the reception desk by himself with nothing but the jacket on his shoulders. The woman there was kind and smiled politely his way, only glancing at his handicap when she found his name on her admittance clipboard but quickly fell back into her professional mask. "Excuse me." She said softly and picked up the phone in front of her. She pressed a single button and muttered, "Sergeant Barnes is waiting in the lobby." Before she nodded and hung up. She pulled a small metal badge on a lanyard out of the top drawer of her desk and handed it to him over the counter. "Ms. Potts will be waiting for you on floor 100. If you insert this into the slot inside the elevator behind me it will take you straight to the top." She told him as he took it feeling uneasy.

"Thanks." he muttered and nodded at her as he moved to the sliding steel door that was just a few feet behind her and pressed the button. It closed as soon as he got in and he looked over the button bored on the wall noting that there wasn't one for 100. There was, however a small slit at the bottom that easily ate the strip of metal he slipped into it. The entire board lit up and the elevator glided smoothly towards the sky. Bucky didn't really want to think about just how high up he was going, he never cared for hights. Not even the strapped in kind that you got at carnivals and amusement parks.

Steve thought it was hilarious.

"I just don't get it." He laughed trying once again to pull Bucky towards the ride that launched you straight up into the sky. "You can walk straight into a fight without flinching but you can't sit in a seat and be moved around."

Bucky blinked at him and went back to staring at the death machine, planting his feet firmly on the ground. Steve could try all he wanted, at a buck ten soaking wet there was no way that he was going to get him on that thing. And Steve knew it. That's why he was taunting him. "I'm not going to die if I get punched in the face." Bucky told him. "If that thing isn't screwed on just right then there is no question. You're dead. Blam. Pow. Donezo."

"You could die in a fight." Steve pointed out.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Maybe you would." he corrected him, laughing when Steve play jabbed him in the gut and swat him away. "They put these things up in a day. How am I supposed to trust that?" He demanded.

"You just are." Steve told him. He wasn't playing though. It wasn't unusual for his best friend to get all righteous about small things, but it still surprised Bucky just how serious he could be. "It's someone's job to make sure we survive. You best bet they take that seriously."

There was a speech looming over him, no doubt it was touching and would get him thinking way too much about everything-questioning his entire existence of some stupid ride at a shitty carnival. So he gave up. He wound his arm around Steve's shoulders and pouted as he stepped off towards the line. "If I fall, it's on you." He warned him.

Steve laughed. "Don't be stupid. I'd catch you."

"Mr. Barnes?"

He jumped, not realizing that he had spaced. A small blond woman with a kind face was watching him from the now opened elevator door, her hand keeping it from closing back up and taking him back to the floor. He blinked a few times feeling heat rush up to his ears and felt the ghost of where his hand should be reach up to scratch the back of his neck. "Oh, I… Sorry. I was just-"

"Day dreaming?" She asked with a grin.

He was grateful for the offer. "Something like that." He told her, a smile sliding easily over his face as he stepped off the lift into the wide windowed room he'd been walked through the day before. "And it's Jimmy." he told her smoothly, feeling weird saying it but Bucky had always kind of been Steve's thing.

She shook his hand firmly, "Pepper." she told him and turned to lead him through the room. "If you'll follow me Mr. Stark is waiting in the lab."

He hadn't really payed attention to the building building the last time he had walked through it, too distracted by Peggy and the daunting idea of what they were about to do to care about the scenery. But now that he was seeing it, he couldn't quite look away. The walls were practically made of glass, overlooking the entire busy city below but somehow blocking out all the noise. It was strangely quiet save for the sound of Peppers heels clicking against the hard marble floor. It was surreal and also unsettling. But Bucky shoved that down and tried to focus on stepping exactly where Pepper did, not wanting to leave evidence of where he'd been.

Tony was exactly where he had been when he'd seen him yesterday, wearing the same thing as he had been yesterday- though maybe his shirt was a different color. He didn't look up when they came in, his head stuck in some kind of magnifying glass that needed to consume him to work. "Jarvis, I thought I said no one in the lab." He grumbled to know one.

Bucky was pretty sure that he was going crazy until a disembodied voice came back with, "Ms. Potts is always allowed sir."

Pepper grinned back at Bucky, "It's in my contract." she told him and Bucky decided that he liked her.

"Remind me to revise that." Tony mumbled as he unstrapped the glasses contraption from his head. He blinked when he saw bucking and looked out the window, then to the clock on his desk. "Oh right." he scratched at his head and flipped a light that lit up the chair he'd sat at the day before. "Thank you Pepper, you can leave now." he told her without looking back as he walked over the the chair to adjust it.

She didn't even look annoyed. "Good luck." she told Bucky with a smirk and the he was left alone with Tony Stark.

Tony didn't look at him, didn't walk to him, just sat down at his work table and let him stand there feeling more like an idiot with every passing second. Bucky knit his brow together and tried not to say anything. Surely he would tell him something. He wouldn't just let Bucky stand there. But after five minutes of silence he figured that if he wanted conversation it had to start from his side. "Did you sleep?" he asked walking over to the chair.

"What?" Tony asked like a reaction, not really paying attention but he somehow knew that he needed to respond.

"Sleep, did you sleep last night?" he asked again while he took off his jacket and hung it on one of the arms before he sat down and settled into the prodding position.

Tony just shrugged and brought the box back over to him. "Sure. I mean, probably." he muttered and started to hook him up to the sensor with the little flesh colored pads. Bucky opened his mouth to say something but Tony stopped him, "Don't move." he told him and Bucky continued not moving in a slightly more annoyed way until Tony stepped back and open the metal box to reveal a crazy looking steal hand.

"Holy shit." Bucky muttered.

Tony smirked, looking him in the eye with a swell of something real for the first time, enjoying that he got to share something cool. "Right?" He asked, taking it out of the box and laying it on the table next to them. "This is just the start of it. There is going to be an entire arm, bio-mechanical and compatible to your nerve system. It'll be like you never lost it, just got an upgrade." He adjusted one of the pads and stood back. "Okay."

Bucky waited. "Okay?"

Tony nodded and gestured at him, "Okay, do the thing." He told him.

"The thing?" Bucky asked.

Tony squinted. "Do you only speak in questions?" he asked. Bucky decided that it probably wouldn't help to ask him what he should be saying and just waited for Tony to explain himself. "The thing where you make it move. Like yesterday."

"There wasn't a hand yesterday-" Bucky argued.

"There is now, I made it, it works so make it go." Tony told him crossing his arms impatiently.

"Wait, you made this last night?" Bucky asked looking at the hand. It was beautifully crafted, but if this thing was fully functional there had to be some seriously complex wiring inside of it. "All of it?"

"Yeah, I just said that." Tony blinked.

"Then how do you know it works?"

Tony just stared at him, the look he was deadpanning asking Bucky just how stupid he really was. Bucky wasn't exactly sure how he was supposed to respond to that so he just stared back until Tony said simply, "It works." with such conviction that it was hard to doubt him- but after an hour of nothing, that's all Bucky did.

He hated this. Tony was throwing a coffee mug up into the air a little higher with every passing minute while Bucky struggled not to ask him what he was doing wrong because whatever he'd done yesterday clearly wasn't working. He couldn't make a fist. He couldn't lift a pinky. He couldn't do anything while he was waiting for Tony to stop throwing that damn mug. He closed his eyes trying to ignore it but he could still hear it every time it hit his palms with a soft th-thump, thu-thump, thum-thump. Bucky sighed, squeezing his eyes tight to keep them shut. "Could you stop doing that?" he asked.

"Stop doing what?" Tha-thump, th-thump-

"That. Throwing that. It's annoying." he told him, still not looking.

"Oh yeah, of course."

Tha-thump, th-thump, thum-thump.

Ti-ti-ti-tink, ti-ti-ti-tink, ti-ti-ti-tink-

Quiet.

Bucky opened his eyes and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw that Tony was about three inches away from his face. "Dude! What the fu-"

"Do that again." Tony told him watching him, only backing up enough to make him bleary, his hand still holding Bucky into the chair.

"I'm not doing anything." he told Tony defensively, hating that he was still so close. Bucky didn't like people in his bubble unless he invited them there. Steve used to give him mountains of shit about it, wondering how he could be such a flirt and have personal space issues. But Bucky wasn't a flirt. He was nice. The only person he'd ever really tried to flirt with was Steve and he didn't even notice till they were out of school.

Tony pulled at the wires on his shoulder and stared at the hand, eyes a little wild waiting and waiting and waiting and then- "Common." he muttered getting on eye level with the hand, he waited so intensely the Bucky thought he would make it move with sheer willpower. "Common!" He said again more forcefully shaking the table but the hand didn't move. Tony stood up forcefully and turned away from Bucky and the hand. "You can go now." he told him.

He didn't have to be told twice.