Summary: The next morning, the team has to decide if Bucky should stay or go.
Daybreak
The sun was streaming in the living room windows when Steve came downstairs. Bucky was asleep on the sofa, his head resting on his metal arm. Steve took a pillow from the couch and gently tried to slide it under his head. Bucky snapped into motion, grabbing Steve's arm with his left hand and drawing a knife with the right. For a minute they stared at each other. Bucky's eyes were hard and cold with no sign of recognition.
"Easy Buck," Steve said, taking care not to make any sudden moves. After a minute, Bucky released him.
"You're safe," Steve reassured him. "You're at Sharon Carter's house near Baltimore."
Slowly, Steve could see it start to register in Bucky's eyes. He sheathed the knife and looked around the room. "I was upstairs."
"You came down for a glass of water," Steve reminded him. Bucky was quiet for a minute.
"I had a nightmare." he said. Steve could see in his eyes that he was trying to piece things together. "I broke it. The glass."
"Yeah, you did," Steve confirmed. "We need to get some plastic cups."
"The red girl, she helped clean it up."
"That's Wanda," Steve reminded him. "She's nice. You'll like her."
Steve sat down on the couch beside him. "Do you remember what you were dreaming?" Bucky shook his head.
"Nothing specific. Just flashes." He paused. "No wait, the dream wasn't about anything specific. It was just random snippets of everything. Why am I on the couch?"
"You stayed down here for a minute after I went back up. You must have fallen asleep, I was trying to put a pillow under your head."
Bucky nodded slowly. He was disoriented, but Steve could see him start to piece last night's events together. "I'll make some coffee. We're going to have a busy morning." He went to the kitchen and opened the cabinet. "Oh look, we have hazelnut," he called.
"What?" Bucky asked.
Steve spooned the grounds into the filter. "You were telling me yesterday at the coffee shop that you like hazelnut flavored coffee," Steve reminded him. It had only been yesterday. So much had happened that it seemed longer.
"In Brooklyn," Bucky grinned. "You were drinking something foamy."
"Are you making fun of me or do you not remember what I had?" Steve asked. He poured in the water and pressed the button to start the machine.
"I'm making fun of you for drinking a latte," Bucky teased. "With a heart on it, no less."
"The girl at the counter thought I was cute, Mr. Turtle Cheesecake," Steve said. "Do remember how we got here?"
"We took a cab to New Jersey and caught the train." Bucky joined Steve in the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway. "My bag," he said.
"All your stuff is-" Bucky was gone. "Upstairs."
Bucky ran up the stairs and stopped at the top. He couldn't remember which room was Steve's. Silently, he opened the first door. It led to a study cluttered with old papers and musty books. The second door was locked. A door on the other side was slightly a jar. He pushed it open. Wilson and the other man from last night were asleep in the beds.
"Bucky!" He heard an urgent whisper from behind and turned to find Steve at the top of the stairs. "Last one on the left."
He ran to the room and looked around for the black backpack. It was gone. Bucky felt numb. Everything he owned had been in there. His entire life was in that bag and he had lost it. Steve joined him in the room and closed the door. In the corner was the back pack. Steve picked it up and handed it to Bucky. Bucky snatched it possessively.
"I stepped on it last night so I must have moved it," Steve explained.
Bucky sat down on the bed and unzipped the bag. Everything was safe inside. He felt the knot in his chest loosen, and took out one of the books to inspect it.
"What are those?" Steve asked, sitting down on the other end of the bed. Bucky handed him the one he had been looking at.
"I remember things in pieces," Bucky explained. "Sometimes I can't put them together right away. Even when I do, I'm afraid I might lose it again."
Steve looked through the book. "This one's about me."
"Most of it is from books or museums, but a lot of it I remembered on my own. Like the time in 5th grade when we told your mom that we were going to the park, but you got us lost and we didn't get home until after dark." Bucky said proudly. There were so many things he wasn't able to find in a book, so much of their childhood together that he knew had to come from his own mind.
"She had half the neighborhood out looking for us," Steve said. "I had to do the dishes for a month."
"You got off easy!" Bucky told him. "I had to help Mr. Ferguson at the grocery shop."
Steve handed the journal back to him. "Come on, the coffee's ready."
Steve handed Bucky a mug. "Sure you don't want creamer?"
Bucky scoffed. "No thanks. Enjoy your coffee flavored milk foam."
Steve sipped his drink. Bucky seemed lucid now, but the earlier incident had him worried. If someone else had found him, they might have been hurt. "Buck, is that normal for you, what happened when I woke you up?"
Bucky set his cup down. "Sometimes," he admitted. "It takes me a minute to remember where I am sometimes. Especially in a new place.
Steve looked squarely at him, afraid to hear the answer. "I need you to be honest with me here. How bad is it? In Bucharest, you recognized me, but I couldn't tell if you actually knew me."
"I didn't," Bucky said. Steve's heart sank. "Not really, but, I don't know, a part of me did. You just showed up out of the blue. I wasn't completely sure it was you. Fighting my way out of there was most just reaction, but there were a few moments," he trailed off.
"When you remembered fighting together," Steve finished hopefully.
Bucky nodded. "Like a reflex. I knew which way you were going to move."
"In Berlin though," Steve continued. "You were better. After you woke up from the river, you knew who I was. You knew a lot of stuff and you seemed fine the rest of the trip."
"I think the crash must have jarred my memory. Sometimes I wake up and everything seems clear, even if I can't remember everything, I know who I am. It comes and goes."
"Ok." Steve said, running a hand through his hair. He was still exhausted from yesterday and convincing Sam that it was safe to let Bucky stay was going to be an uphill battle. "Last night, I think you scared everyone a bit. What was that about?"
Bucky sighed. "It was a long trip. I was tired and, uh," Bucky fumbled for a name. "The guy with the wings."
"Sam."
Bucky nodded. "I was worried he was going to kick me out."
"Well he's not happy about it, but I'll talk to them. I'm not letting you go again until I know you're safe."
"Steve." Bucky's gaze was clear and focused now. "I'm not going to try to talk you out of this, because you never listen to me anyway, but don't destroy what you have here to hang on to the past. You have friends, you finally found the guts to make a move on your sweetheart. Don't throw all that away just because I showed up."
"I'm not," Steve promised him. "But I'm not going to abandon you either. You're my friend. If it were Sam or Natasha I'd do the same for them."
In the doorway someone yawned. Steve turned to see Scott walk in, shirtless and scratching his stomach. "Morning. Is there any coffee?"
"I just made a fresh pot." Steve said. Bucky looked at him and mouthed, 'that guy is weird'. Steve stifled a laugh and sipped his coffee.
Everyone was seated at the breakfast table. The room was silent except for Scott who was asking Bucky questions about his arm.
"I don't know," Bucky said for the ninth time. "I'm not an electrical engineer."
"He is," Sam explained. Bucky rolled his eyes.
"It just moves so naturally," Scott said. "Does it move on it's own or is there some sort of relay to your nervous system."
Bucky sighed. "I didn't design it," he said again.
"Is it waterproof, or do you have to stay out of the rain?"
"It's waterproof," Bucky said, sounding relieved to be able to answer something. "I can go in water, but the weight makes it difficult to swim. At least the old one did. I haven't tried with this one. The casing is vibranium so it's a lot lighter."
"Well you should probably go test it out in the shower," Natasha said. Bucky looked at her. She smiled innocently.
"Always the soul of tact," Wanda muttered.
Bucky stood up and took his plate to the sink. "Actually that sounds good. I don't think I've showered since Africa anyway."
"You can use my clothes until we get you some new ones," Steve said.
"The shower is upstairs at the end of the hall. Towels are in the closet," Sharon said. "Take your time. There's plenty of hot water." Bucky left the room.
"I call the shower after he's done," Steve said. "I need to wash off New Jersey."
"Break out the cologne, Rogers," Natasha said. "We need to talk."
Sam watched to be sure Bucky had left the room. "Alright, what the hell, man?"
Steve took a deep breath, preparing himself for the discussion. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys, but there wasn't time to have a discussion. Whether he stays here or not, I had to go get him, and I'm not going to apologize for that."
"You do want him to stay here though," Sam said.
"I want him to be safe," Steve said. "And I want to know where he is. I'm not going to let him out of my sight again until I can be sure he's in good hands."
"Is this a house meeting or a team meeting?" Natasha asked. "Should I conference in Clint?"
Steve shook his head. "No, we're just talking about him staying here. We'll table the idea of him joining the team until he's had a chance to adjust."
"You sure?" she asked. "Clint will probably be sympathetic."
"I'm sure," Steve said. "We'll tell him next time we see him."
"What sort of condition is he in?" Sam asked. "Last night he seemed a bit agitated."
"He hadn't slept in a few days and someone had been chasing him," Steve said. "So yeah, he was agitated, and he was scared. He thought you were going to kick him back out on the streets. Once we can convince him that he's safe here, he'll get better."
"Do you really think that, or are you just hoping?" Sharon asked.
"You've spent, what, three days with him in the last 70 years?" Sam argued. "I know for you, it's like it all just happened, but he's been awake. Everything that happened, that does things to a guy."
"Honestly Steve, how bad is it?" Natasha asked.
Steve looked at his coffee mug. He owed them the truth, even though he knew how it was going to sound. "He's in and out. The other day he was fine. This morning I found him asleep on the couch and he didn't know where he was. He almost stabbed me before I calmed him down." Sam groaned.
"That's a pretty big security risk you're asking us to take," Natasha said bluntly.
"I think it'll be better if he can stay in one place," Steve argued. "He was in Bucharest for a year on his own and nothing happened until we pulled him out."
"And if it doesn't get better?" Sam asked. "We have no way of knowing what's going on up there. Everything he's been through, there could be some permanent damage."
"I'll find a way to help him, and if we can't, we'll figure something out. Until then, this is the safest place for him. If someone gets a hold of the code book, there's no telling what they could make him do. At least if he's here, we have a chance to stop him."
"And what if he snaps and murders us in our sleep," Sam said.
"He hasn't done anything without being provoked," Steve pointed out.
Sam turned to Scott. "Yo, Tic-Tac, you're quiet."
Scott sat up. "I don't really know the guy."
"That's kind of the point I'm trying to make here," Sam said.
"It's ok Scott, just tell us what you think," Steve said.
Scott shrugged. "I spent 3 years in San Quentin, so I'm used to sleeping with serial killers down the hall." He turned to Steve." Not that your friend is anything like those guys," he added quickly. Scott paused. "It's not easy to get back on your feet when all anyone looks at is your past, I should know. I'm not going to make it harder for anyone else."
"Wanda?" Steve asked.
Wanda considered for a moment. "I agree with Scott. You let me join you after everything I did. If we can help him, we should."
Sam frowned. "What are you going to do if we say no?" he asked. "What happens if we decided we don't want him here?"
Steve tapped his fingers on the table. "I go with him. I'm not breaking up the team again, but I need to help him and if that means finding somewhere else to live, I will."
"No, you won't," Sharon said firmly. "This is my house and I'm letting all of you stay here rent free, so it's ultimately my decision."
"And?" Steve asked.
"I want him to stay. I feel like I owe it to Aunt Peggy."
"Don't do that," Steve said, taking her hand. He loved her for offering, but she had already sacrificed so much to help them. "He's my friend. You don't owe him anything. Don't do it just because you think it's what she would do."
"Well then," she said. "I am going to let him stay here because I am a compassionate person, and a supportive girlfriend, and because you are going to take me out on a very expensive date to thank me for my generosity."
Steve smiled. "Now that sounds like you," he squeezed her hand.
"And that is all I have to say about that," Sharon said. She took her plate to the sink. "I'm going to go see if he figured out the shower and throw his clothes in the, um," she paused, "trash."
"Could you get him a set of my clothes while you're up there?" Steve asked.
"Let's hope they fit," she said.
Sharon headed for the stairs and turned the corner to find Bucky sitting there. She stepped past him, out of sight of the others, and sat down. "I didn't know you were Peggy Carter's niece."
"Great niece," Sharon said.
"You don't think dating your great aunt's dead boyfriend is a little weird?"
"Well, I'm dating a super soldier who was frozen in the Arctic for 70 years, hangs out with a Norse god, a guy who turns into a rampaging green monster, and a woman who can move things with her mind. I'm not going to lose sleep over the fact that he kissed my great aunt once in 1945.
"So he did kiss her," Bucky grinned.
"She kissed him. Right before he crashed a plane into the ocean."
Bucky shook his head, laughing quietly. "That sound like Steve."
"They're going to take a while. I'll show you how to work the shower."
Bucky followed her up to the bathroom. Sharon handed him a set of towels from the hall closet and pulled back the shower curtain "Turn it to the temperature you want and then pull the tab on the top of the faucet. I'm going to get you something to wear and see if I can find you something better to sleep on."
"I like the floor," Bucky told her. "I'm not really used to sleeping in a bed."
"At least a sleeping bag. I'll set out some of Steve's clothes for you."
Natasha leaned back in her chair. "Face it Wilson, you've been out voted."
"Yeah, I missed the part where you actually told us what you were thinking, Romanoff," Sam said. Natasha flashed a cryptic smile.
"Playing both sides," Steve remarked. "Good to see nothing has changed."
"You've had a dangerous Russian assassin in the house the whole time. What's one more?" Natasha said, taking her coffee to the patio.
"See, it's stuff like that," Steve called after her. He stood and carried his plate to the sink.
"I'm going for a quick run," Scott said.
"I'll join you," Wanda called, running upstairs to change. Scott went to find his shoes.
Steve eyed the door. "I'm going to see if Bucky's done with the shower."
"Sit your ass down Rogers," Sam said. "We are not done here. I may have lost the argument but this discussion is not over." Steve poured another cup of coffee and went back to his seat.
"Look," Sam said, leaning forward on the table. "I know how much it means for you to have him back, I really do. If Riley walked through that door right now, I'd be doing the same thing. I'm not trying to take this away from you."
"But," Steve sighed.
"But you have a huge blind spot for that guy," Sam continued. "I just want to make sure that you understand what you're getting us into. You don't know him, not anymore. Parts of him are there, parts of him aren't, and there's a part of him that's still the Winter Soldier. As painful as that is for you to accept, that's the truth, and I'm worried that you're not seeing it. You spent 70 years on ice and you're not the same guy you were in 1945, but he spent 70 years being caged up, and having his brain scrambled, and god knows what else. That changes people, and you may never get him back. I feel for the guy, I do, but I don't want to see anyone get hurt over it, you included."
Steve considered Sam's words carefully. He knew in his head that Sam was right, but he had come so close to having Bucky back. "I know this isn't going to be easy, and you're probably right that I'm not seeing the full picture, but I just know I can't abandon him now after all this."
Sam smiled. "Honestly, I'd be kind of disappointed in you if you did."
Bucky toweled his hair dry. It felt like years since he had been this clean. He put on the clothes that had been set out for him. The jeans mostly fit, except that they were too long. The shirt was loose, which he didn't mind. The combat gear he had worn for the last several decades was stiff and confining. It felt good to have something soft on his skin. He sat down on the bed to roll up the cuff of the jeans and looked around the room.
Steve kept pictures on the bedside table. There were hundreds of pictures of them together during the war, but Steve had chosen one from high school, before the serum. It was from a dance Bucky's last year. Steve had not been able to get a date, so Bucky had decided to go stag and keep him company. Steve had tried to talk to a blond, but he had ruined it and Bucky had ended up walking her home. He would have liked to call her again, but that wouldn't have been fair to Steve.
"You remember that night?" Steve asked.
Bucky put the photo back on the table. "That band was terrible. They were off key half the time and everything was either too slow or too fast."
Steve laughed. "Yeah, they were pretty bad. I cleared it with the team, you're staying here."
"I was listening," Bucky told him.
Steve sat down beside him. "Look, Sam's just being cautious."
"He has a point," Bucky conceded. He remembered thinking Wilson was kind of an ass, but Steve trusted him. Steve needed someone to keep him in check when he was being stupid, and for the past few years, that had probably been Wilson. If he thought Steve was being foolish taking Bucky in, maybe he was right.
Steve shook his head. "I can't make you stay Buck, but I'm not throwing you out and neither is anyone else."
Bucky stood up, looking around the room. It was comfortable, but he couldn't see it as anything but the latest stop in a long journey. Still, it would do for now. "Well if I'm staying. You'd better show me around."
"You've seen most of it, but we do have a workout room set up in the basement," Steve said. He could hear the excitement in his friend's voice. "And we'll get you some clothes that fit properly."
"It's your fault for growing so much." Bucky quipped as he followed Steve downstairs. Even if this was temporary, it was good to be back.
-End-
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