Well, this is where it gets speculative. Let me know what you think.

Warning: explicit language (they're soldiers, after all)

1944 - Austria

The waiting was the worst. Steve knew the mountain range; even the cold felt horribly familiar. On any other day, to any other man, the Alps would have been a spectacular sight to behold. For Steve they were the background to a series of nightmares.

He remembered the moment down to the last detail. The wind, the ice, the strain in his arm as he reached, the unfathomable horror when the last screw holding the metallic rail came lose and fell, and the end of the line turned out to be nothing but darkness and agony. He had dreamed of these seconds more often than he could count, more often than not waking with a scream on his lips. Steve had, for a long time, thought that Bucky's death was his biggest failure. Only in 2014 had he learned that his biggest failure was the fact that he could have jumped, and didn't.

Not today.

Carefully, he climbed down the steep ravine, just so far that no one could see him from the train that was soon to speed by.

The waiting was the worst, and part of him still thought he should have come earlier. Everything HYDRA had already done, he might have stopped it, he thought while the wind bit at his skin. It was a foolish thought, he knew that much, since they had discussed it over and over again, but still… No. He had to focus.

Steve sensed the approaching train before he could hear it. There was a soft vibration that shook the mountain wall, and then a small noise that grew steadily louder. When Steve pushed the button on his nanoglove, his hands were shaking in sync with the ra-ta-ta of the train.

He had tested it before, of course, but still the nanotechnology never seized to amaze him. He watched, mesmerized, as the particles spread and enclosed him in a suit that was as hard as steel and yet incredibly light.

He counted down the seconds in his head. The earth shook as the train approached, and he didn't even have to look up to know what was happening.

The shadow fell, and seconds stretched into eternity.

Just one shot.

He activated the repulsors. All the tests couldn't have prepared him for this, and for a few horrifying seconds he thought he'd fail, again. But the speed of the suit was unmatchable. The shadow transformed into a form, a person, and Steve reached, reached, reached and finally dug his fingers into the fabric of the familiar blue jacket.

Wide, horrified eyes met his, and for a moment everything else seemed to stand still.

I got you.

The next second, the added weight and the pull of gravity threw Steve off balance and the world turned upside down.

"Hold on!" he yelled, desperately trying to bring the suit back into maneuvering position while maintaining his grip on Bucky. The mountain walls were dangerously close.

Repulsor correction initiated. Slow down suggested.

"I'm trying, damnit!"

A small cliff slowed their fall for a brief moment. Steve barely registered the pain shooting up his side as he collided with the rock; all he could think about was trying to get a hold of the stone to stop the fall. But the surface was covered in ice, and his fingers slipped.

His left hand was still holding on to Bucky.

Suddenly the tumbling stopped. The ground was thirty feet away.

Repulsors stabilized. Initiate landing.

When he felt the earth beneath his feet, Steve's legs gave way and he and Bucky landed unceremoniously in the snow.

Suit deactivation initiated.

Steve groaned and pressed a hand against his bruised ribs. He barely registered the way the nanoparticles transformed into the glove again. Every intake of breath sent peaks of pain shoot up his side.

Beside him, Bucky winced and struggled to get to his feet.

Bucky.

"I did it," Steve rasped, feeling oddly light all of a sudden despite the cold and pain. "I did – I – oh God, Buck."

He reached out, but Bucky suddenly recoiled, hastily trying to stand up.

"No, stay away!"

"Buck, it's me, it's –"

"You're not him! It's a trick, isn't it?" The panic in Bucky's eyes nearly killed Steve there and then. "You're one of them, you're – no, no, I won't…"

He stumbled backwards, one hand searching for and finding a tree to help him stay upright, the other hand shakily going towards the side of his belt where Steve knew his holster was attached.

"Buck, stop!"

There was no gun, obviously. He had lost it on the train after he'd emptied the last clip of ammo, and Bucky seemed to remember that the same moment as Steve. His face became white, his panicked eyes standing out as they stared at Steve, his lips forming a string of curses and "not again"s.

He used to carry a knife in his boot.

Steve lunged at his friend, sending him to the ground and wrestling with him for a solid ten seconds before he got hold of the knife.

"Stop – this – Buck – it's me!" he wheezed, pinning Bucky in place and apologizing internally for the additional bruises that Bucky would soon be sporting.

"Liar!" Bucky snarled, writhing underneath him. "You fucked me up, you – you – Nazi bastards! You won't get to me again, I swear to God, I'll kill you, I'll kill myself, I'll – I'll –"

"You thought I was smaller."

The words came without thinking, quietly, and Steve hadn't really thought about them ever since he'd first heard them. But with these five words, all fight left his friend, and for a moment Bucky just froze. His eyes were still full of fear, and it was almost enough for Steve to up and leave and hunt down Zola and Schmidt immediately.

"Is this… real?" Bucky whispered, blinking once, twice, and Steve was reminded of the moment he'd pulled him off the table in Krausberg. The confusion, the recognition, the faint smile.

"Yeah. Yeah, Buck, it's real. I'm me. I'm Steve. I used to wear newspapers in my shoes, remember?"

He could feel Bucky finally relaxing, and carefully he let go. Bucky pushed himself off the ground, but didn't stand up immediately. He leant heavily against a tree, eyes trained on Steve.

"But you were on the train. You look different."

Steve sat down opposite him, taking a moment to consider his options. It was hard enough as it was to keep a clear head. Inside, he was shaking as the adrenaline was beginning to wear off. Part of him still couldn't believe he had actually done it. His eyes were burning and he blinked hastily before running his sleeve across his face.

"Steve?"

"Are you hurt?" he asked, knowing fully well that he was stalling.

"My leg's kinda screwed and my arm hurts like hell. Must've hit the rock on the way down. Nothin' life-threatening." Bucky laughed mirthlessly. "Gonna heal in a fortnight, thanks to Zola's efforts. I never told you this, but whatever he shot me up with – I think it made me immortal. Remember that bullet I took three months ago? Healed in three days when it should've killed me. Lucky me."

"Buck –"

"Makes me wonder if maybe I would've survived this," he waved dismissively at the sky above and the gigantic mountain walls, "even without you saving my ass."

"You did," said Steve, tonelessly, hand and heart cold and tears on his cheeks. "You did, Buck and I – I didn't – I never – God, Buck, I'm so sorry."

The tears came, finally, after five years, and he balled his hands to fists and willed himself to stop, but even as he bit his trembling lip and dug his fingernails into his skin he couldn't stop. He felt a hand on his shoulder and flinched.

"You've really had it rough, pal, haven't you?" Bucky mumbled, and it was enough to turn Steve's tears into an embarrassing mixture of sobbing and disbelieving laughter.

"I've had – I've had? Yeah, that's –"

A noise made him freeze. He grabbed Bucky's arm, but the other had already noticed. He paled visibly and again reached for the knife in his boot. In a swift motion, Steve was on his feet and pressed his thumbs against the insides of his palms. Soundlessly, the gloves turned into weapons. Bucky stared at them for a moment, then turned his head towards Steve. His insides did an unpleasant twist when he saw the wild glint in his friend's eyes.

"I'm not going back," Bucky stated flatly. "If things go south, make sure they don't get me again."

Steve heard the underlying plea.

Whatever the cost.

He choked down the bitter taste in his mouth and scanned his surroundings. He heard footsteps, murmuring, and he knew that whoever was coming didn't even consider the possibility that they'd meet anyone able to fight back.

But today, they would.