When he returns to Steve's apartment the next day, after a long lazy morning of kissing, he has to deal with Steve's cheeky smile.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" he questions, his voice a little too chipper.

Bucky rolls his eyes, trying to look grumpy, but he's in a good mood and Steve's smile is contagious. "Yeah, actually I did," he replies, and he exchanges his faux grumpiness for a smug smile.

Steve laughs, nudging Buck with his forearm. "Still a ladies man. I guess some things never change."

He shrugs. "Guess not."

The two spend the afternoon reminiscing on the dates they used to go on. Steve laughs about all the women Natasha tried to set him up with. Bucky asks why he hasn't gone out, but Steve just shrugs.

"Peggy?" Bucky questions softly with a wry smile. Steve just smiles. Bucky knows the sparkle in his eyes all too well, and he knows he's right. "I think she'd want you to find someone."

"Maybe," he replies, then he chuckles. "I've got time. I've got my whole life ahead of me." They laugh heartily to spite the pain.

Steve doesn't think much of it when Bucky retires early.

Bucky's night is red. He is determined to make up for the time lost the previous night. He clears hideouts, suffocates a man while his bruised wife sleeps soundly, and even stops a mugging between jobs. He is determined to bring healing to the world he hurt.

His last stop for the night is an abandoned-looking factory. He knows, though, that it is far from abandoned. He climbs to the roof, peering through a skylight. Shapes move below in the dim light. He drops down silently, moving along the top of the massive, towering shelves. He watches, formulating a plan. He wants to take out as many as he can, but once he starts making noise, the higher ranking people will flee. He comes to the center of the building. People are playing poker by candlelight. He decides that will be his first target. He jumps down, splintering the table, and crushes two heads together. He drags another across the table by the collar of her shirt, tossing her at a large man who is standing. Two more sit, frozen behind their cards, one with a cigar hanging from his mouth. Bucky barrels through them, slamming them against the shelves behind them. By now he can hear people coming his way. He borrows a gun and takes people out as they come around the corner, one after another. When that gun is empty, he borrows another. Soon, the warehouse is empty. He sweeps it thoroughly, though the wailing sirens in the distance tell him it's time to leave. When the police crash through the doors, there is no trace of the Winter Soldier.

The next day Bucky lays sprawled out on the floor. Steve is behind his sketchbook once again, drawing as he tells Bucky stories of their childhood. It helps him to remember. The memories are all there, and he knows it, they're simply buried under decades of torture and death. Steve is telling him about the time he tripped over the sprinkler they were jumping through, leaving Bucky to drag him out of the wet grass coughing and sputtering. The picture emerges in Bucky's mind as Steve paints the scene. He remembers that day. It was hot, and they wanted to cool down. Steve was fine, and they ran through the sprinkler for the rest of the afternoon.

Steve's story is interrupted by a firm knock on the door. Both men turn their heads towards the door.

"Coming," Steve calls, setting his sketchbook on the couch and heading to the door. Bucky sits up, examining Steve's sketch, a picture of him with his hair lying messily around his head. A woman's voice catches his ear, and he assumes it's Catherine, so he stands. When he rounds the corner, however, he sees a small redhead. He vaguely remembers having shot her, so he stands, sheepishly frozen. The woman glances past Steve, their eyes locking. There is coldness in her gaze, but she is using the cold to try to bury her fear.

"I see you found him," she mutters to Steve, and he can hear her trying to sound supportive.

Steve nods, and gestures for her to come in. She shakes her head. He watches Steve's shoulders tense, but he joins her out in the hall, gently pulling the door closed behind him. Bucky leans against the wall, arms folded across his chest.

Out in the hall, Natasha heaves a sigh. "We've got trouble," she mutters, voice low, eyes darting.

"What do you mean?" Steve asks, eyebrows wrinkling with worry.

"Someone is taking out Hydra by the handful, and we have no idea who."

"Who's we? And why is this a bad thing?"

"We," Natasha says, "are the SHIELD agents Fury has tabs on. And it's a bad thing because anyone who can take out people in this quantity is dangerous. I'll give you one guess who suspect number one is," she says wryly. She knows how much Bucky means to Steve. She hopes it's not enough to blind him, but she's not so sure.

"Bucky? He lives with me. I think I'd know if he was going on murderous rampages." Steve insists.

"Of course. I just wanted to let you know," she replies distantly.

There is a moment of silence. "So, how have you been?" Steve asks softly. It's been months since she disappeared from the graveyard.

"Fine," she replies. "Just working on that new cover." She smiles, but her eyes tell a different story.

"You want to come in? I was going to order pizza for dinner."

She hesitates, but a ghost of a smile appears on her lips. "Yeah, why not."

Steve opens the door to find Bucky with his shoulders and his head against the wall. He straightens up when he hears them, rubbing the back of his neck a little too roughly with his metal hand.

"Hello," he says, pursing his lips, frantically trying to think of something to say. "Um, I'm sorry," he offers weakly.

"Don't worry about it," she says, but he can see in her eyes that she is suspicious of him, and that he is not quite forgiven.

He stares blankly as she strides past him to the living room. Steve follows her, patting Bucky's shoulder. He folds his sketchbook closed and sets it to the side. Natasha joins him on the couch.

"Hey, Buck, what do you want on the pizza?" Steve calls from the living room.

It takes a moment for Bucky to shake himself out of his haze. "Pepperoni and mushrooms," he replies. He gets himself a can of soda before pulling up a chair, what has become his chair since Sam scared him with a can of silly string and he crushed the back of it in his fist, splintering the wood. He uses his thumb to press open the hole on his soda, and takes a long sip.

Steve is ordering the pizza, and Natasha is studying him. "Steve told me a lot about you. I really am sorry about shooting you." He smiles wryly, and she returns it.

"Well, according to Steve, you weren't quite yourself. Now that you're not being controlled by Hydra, we have nothing to worry about, right?" Her question doesn't sound rhetorical. It sounds like she's truly questioning him.

"Right," he replies, and he knows he sounds defensive, but he can't help it. He takes a breath and a long sip of soda.

Steve has finished placing the order and is now studying the hint of hostility in the room. "Hey, Bucky, you want to invite Catherine over?" he offers, hoping to calm him. Catherine seems to have that effect on him.

Bucky nods. He sets down his soda and hurries to his room to find his phone. He has two contacts, and he presses Catherine's name. He listens until he hears her voice over the line.

"Hey, James, what's up?" she asks.

"Come save me," he whimpers, unable to help the deep chuckle that follows. "You want pizza?"

"I'll be right over," She replies.