A/N: So I have something a little different planned for the next few chapters, but I was in the mood for trying something new, so I hope you like it. :)

Winter shifted uncomfortably, listening into the radio that connected the Avengers. Victor von Douchebag had stolen his nightly reading hour with Steve away from him, making him slightly more irritable than usual. He sat in the control room with some woman named Agent Maria, who was flipping across multiple camera feeds of the city-scape, trying to vocally lead the deployed Avenger's away from traps and civilians.

He breathed in for calm when a Doombot came dangerously close to getting a hold of Steve before a blast from Stark drove it off.

"Thanks, Tony."

"No problem, Cap."

He should be the one out there on the battlefield, he should be the one at Steve's back.

Maria flicked her eyes to him, a question in them. He nodded that he was fine, waving her back to her work. He wished he could leave, but to do so would mean agents that were on-call, ready to be brought in to assist where they were needed, would have to be diverted to make sure he wasn't alone or reverting back to his old programing. He wasn't about to let his discomfort remove soldiers from Steve's war.

He twitched when the destroyed husks of two bots rained down on Steve, diverting his attention from the fight, allowing for another bot to tackle him, dragging him up into the air. His heartbeat slammed up a notch, watching his friend struggle, his jaw ticking. Sam swooped in to save the day and simultaneous relief and guilt wrapped around Winter's heart.

Even if he had been fighting with them, there was nothing he could have done. Sam still was the only one who had his back.

It made him wonder.

Why was Natasha nudging Steve when he wasn't looking, whispering about adding him to their team? Why was Tony giving him strange looks when he let the man play with his left arm, as if he were on the cusp of actually trusting him?

Winter couldn't save someone, it wasn't in his programming. Everything that made him superhuman was a directly lethal ability, nothing more.

He had nothing to bring with him except firepower, and you couldn't trust a weapon to have your back in a fight.

Soon the skirmish was over, and they were back to cleaning up. Maria disconnected from the radio after thanking the team for their work, telling them to head home for debriefing. She sighed and looked over at Winter, "How are you holding up? You look like you're about to snap…"

He sneered, "No." Just reminding myself not to hope for certain things…

He retired now to his room, Maria trailing him till he'd entered Captain's level, then she set JARVIS to keep an eye on him. He hadn't done more than crawl into bed when JARVIS's voice came over the intercom.

"Sir, I would like to inform you that Steve should be back in about 5 minutes, are you sure you would like to fall asleep now?"

"Yes. I don't really feel up to talking...Besides, he has to debrief…" Winter shrugged.

"He has expressed an interest to see you."

"Why is that?"

"He simply stated he wanted to talk with you about something."

Barnes leapt awake within him, curious and loyal, wanting to please Steve by just listening to whatever he had to say, excited that he even had something to say to him. Winter felt similarly, though he stilled his past self, reminding himself of what the conversation could be about for Steve to bypass protocol. It couldn't be a good thing for Winter, even if Steve thought it was. "Tell him I felt tired."

"Yes, sir." He was just lowering his eyelids when he heard JARVIS speak again. "He told me to please keep you awake."

Winter frowned, "Tell him I'm already asleep."

"I would, but I have been programmed not to lie to Mr. Rogers unless it is a lie from Mr. Stark."

"Then ask Mr. Stark to have you lie for me."

There was a pause and then, "Mr. Stark would like to express that hiding from Mr. Rogers would do you no good, but he will oblige this once… He also expresses his wishes for you to 'sleep well, Snowflake.'"

"Tell him thanks."

A pause, "He says you're welcome."

Winter closed his eyes, trying to force himself to sleep. Usually it was easy, he'd been trained to sleep almost on command, but Barnes was squirming inside of his mind, his need to know what was going on agitating him. He went through the motions of sleep, not even moving when he heard Steve open his door and sit down on his bed side.

It took considerable amounts of effort to pretend not to notice when his shoulder was shaken softly, or when he felt an irritated slap on his back, "I know you're awake…"

But Barnes noted the white lie lacing Steve's words and he continued to feign sleep, hoping the man would go away. Instead, Steve sighed, pulling his left arm over to look at it. He prided himself on not tensing at this, and let Steve skim his fingers over the metal before he took his real hand, comparing the two.

He left, but before Winter could feel relief, the man returned, sitting down on his bed.

At first he wondered what was occurring, until he heard the telling sounds of scratches on paper, soft brushes of an eraser, and the relaxed breathing Steve assumed when he drew.

This was unsettling, but somehow it also eased him, knowing that Steve was watching over him. Barnes retreated into a dreamworld and Winter fell into it right behind him. In his dream he was flipping through one of Steve's many sketchpads, smiling at the drawings. He woke unintentionally fifteen minutes later, when Steve shifted.

Winter cursed how lightly he slept.

His eyes fluttered open without his permission and he saw Steve, bent over his book, sketching quickly. When his eyes flicked up to him and back, his movements stuttered and his eyes flicked up to Winter's, "Oh, hey Buck… Sorry… I was just…" He snapped his book closed, but Winter grabbed it deftly, flipping it open to the page the pencil marked. There was a sketch of his hands, comparing the two in black in white.

Steve was still as a statue, uncertain what Winter's reaction would be.

Curious, he flipped back through the book, stilling when he found the other drawings were mostly of him. He didn't realize how often and how long he stared off into space...apparently long enough for Steve to sketch him and hide the fact he'd done so…

So this was how he looked to Steve?

He eased back onto the headboard, not needing to squint in the dim light to see the difference between the earlier pictures and the newer ones. The oldest were harsher, his jawline was always tight, his eyes flinty and filled with formless anger...then slowly the features softened, he didn't glare so much, his brow eased...One made him blink. It depicted him, sitting easily on the balcony rail with Barton. He was smiling, his shoulders set in such a way he appeared to be in the middle of laughing. Barton had that face he made when he was telling a story about Natasha, specifically one that she would probably kill him for had she known he was breathing a word of it to anyone. He'd remembered Steve kicked back on the couch inside, drawing, but how come he hadn't noticed his eyes on them?

Was he losing his awareness? Or was it just Steve?

He reached the end of the sketches and handed it back silently to Steve before he got out of bed to go out into the living area. Steve followed him, keeping back, his eyes wary. Winter said nothing as he sat down on the couch, looking out the window to the darkening sky. Steve waited a couple minutes to sit down on the other side of the couch, he seemed to be waiting for some angry reaction.

Instead Winter just tossed him the pencil he hadn't noticed he'd kept in his hand and picked up a book off the coffee table to read. After a couple moments, he noticed Steve open the sketchbook and begin to draw hesitantly before quickly losing himself in his work. Barnes was practically purring inside him, and Winter felt that posing for Steve was an act very familiar to him. It made him smile to think that he had done this before, decades ago.

After a while, Steve turned the page, and Winter frowned over at him, "You're gonna redraw it?"

Steve blushed, "You're expression is always changing...so I'm just drawing in a different tone."

"Oh…" His eyes returned to the book and he grinned inwardly with malicious joy as he stated matter of factly, "You shouldn't keep drawing the same thing over and over again if the differences are so little... I could pose nude if you want."

Steve choked on air and Bucky gave himself a small pat on the back for keeping a straight face even after peaking up to witness Steve's flushed and confused expression.

Good job, Winter, good job.

Why, thank you, Barnes.

He shrugged his shoulder nonchalantly, "Isn't that what artists do now?" Steve stuttered incoherently for a few more seconds before Bucky turned, leveling him with a blank stare, "I really wouldn't mind."

I would very much mind.

I would too, but I doubt he'll take the bait-

Steve, blushing like a maiden, his eyes downcast shyly to the side, spoke finally, his voice barely more than a whisper, "I mean, if you're comfortable with it."

And he couldn't school the look of panic that sprung up within him. Winter was already floundering about for some excuse as to why Steve probably shouldn't draw him nude while Barnes already had a couple reasons as to why Bucky shouldn't be naked in the same room as Steve.

But it took about half a second for Steve to burst out laughing, grinning to himself, "I knew you we're joking. I can't believe I actually managed to get you for that."

Winter open and closed his mouth in surprise and the after-effects of his miniature heart attack before he started laughing as well, glad he had just avoided what could have been a catastrophe. After a while of just nervous laughter, Steve cleared his throat.

"But, I mean, if you're comfortable, I would actually like to draw you with your shirt off-" when he caught Bucky's confused look he clarified, "Just your shirt, because I want to draw where your arm connects with your body."

Winter conferred for a second with Barnes before they agreed that little harm could come from removing his shirt. So, without any words, he simply took his shirt off and leaned back, picking up the book again to distract himself from the idea that Steve's eyes were mapping the planes of his body, an idea that kept him from reading a single damn word of the book. He hoped desperately that Steve wouldn't ask him any questions, because two chapters later he had no idea why Bilbo and the dwarves were floating around in barrels, much less where the hell they were.

Steve drew for a couple hours more before he set his book aside, apologizing for forgetting the time. Winter waved it off, setting his own book down, having pretended to read over halfway through the book. Steve edged closer, something Winter didn't overlook. He felt his heart begin to hammer against his ribs and he looked up, meeting Steve's eyes in the middle of an obvious movement closer. Steve flushed again, "Oh, I just...wanted a closer look at it…" He nodded to where Winter's arm connected to his chest.

Winter shrugged, leaning back so Steve could get a better look. When Steve reached a hand out, hesitant to bring his fingers in contact with the seam of flesh and metal, Barnes rose up within him once more, and gingerly Bucky brought Steve's hand to him. He released Steve, letting him trail his fingers over the ragged scars, watching as his eyes filled with sadness.

Then the blue irises clouded for a second with confusion and his fingers paused, pressing into Bucky's flesh, "You're heart is beating really fast, Buck, are you okay?"

"Yes."

No.

Steve was far too close for Bucky's comfort, it was becoming physically painful to resist pulling him into a kiss, or simply just touching him. He wanted to be closer to Steve, but he was afraid he wouldn't be able to control himself if he was.

Steve registered the lie, nodding to himself, "It's okay, Buck, I understand."

He began cleaning up his drawing tools when Bucky lost his control, reaching out and pulling Steve into a hug, chanting to himself, just this once, just this once, just this once. Without his heavy combat shirt on, he could feel Steve's heart pounding against his ribs as he held him close. The rhythm calmed him and he took a deep breath before whispering, "Sorry…" and letting go, quickly grabbing his shirt and moving to leave before Steve grabbed his right hand.

"Wait...um… We forgot to read tonight."

"It's alright, you were doing your hero thing…" The bitter feelings started to seep back in from earlier, when suddenly Steve brightened, a grin lighting his features.

"Oh! That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

Damn.

"What?" Dread was pooling in his stomach, but he hid it.

"We've decided it would be best for you to join us."

He felt his heart sink, "Who?" Did his voice have to sound so hollow?

Steve's smile began to wane, "The Avengers. I miss having you by my side."

"No." It was a firm, final word on the matter. It didn't invite discussion or persuasion. Winter took control fully, knowing his gaze was flickering into a vacant, nearly angry glare. He turned and left Steve sitting on the couch, slamming the door of his bedroom shut behind him and locking it. He tossed his combat shirt away from him, laying down on the floor behind the bed, away from the window. He could feel the programming running thick through his veins again as he hid from the pain Steve's offer had brought him.

He wanted to fight beside Steve again, would give anything for it, but he knew that he couldn't be so selfish. He would simply be an endangerment to him. Steve would assume that he could still prove to be more than a weapon, prove to be someone who could have his back in a tight situation, and that assumption would get Steve killed.

Winter wouldn't allow that, even if it meant rejecting something he so desperately wanted.

Steve found Bucky reverting mostly into Winter over the next few days, his heart sinking as he watched Bruce and Natasha attempting to talk with him, only to get that vacant gaze turned on them till they walked away. The only one who managed to do anything with Winter was Clint, mostly achieving a few words from him here and there.

Steve finally approached Clint three days after he asked Winter to join the Avengers.

"Hey, Clint. Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot." Clint shrugged, turning off the phone he'd been playing 2048 on (hopelessly, he might add).

"How do you get Bucky to talk to you so easily?"

"I just know how it feels to be in his place. Plus I've dealt with issues like this before with Natasha."

"Then how come she can't talk to him?"

"She wasn't the one coaxing someone through something like this. When Winter is like this, he just shuts down, barely aware of anything...Nat was the same way. You can't expect them to know what they needed all the time."

"Well...What can I do to help?"

"Steve… right now, Winter doesn't need you to be doing what I'm doing. He just needs you to be yourself...as cliche as that sounds, it's true. He needs Steve Rogers to bring that old part of himself back out, and that's the best you can do. Also, maybe go back to reading to him every day."

Steve frowned, "He told you about that?"

"No, Natasha did. Remember when we celebrated her birthday last week and she squeed really loudly?"

"...Yes?"

Clint chuckled, "Tony sent her some security footage of you two reading Game of Thrones. She thinks it's adorable her two Icicles are catching up on pop culture together."

Steve flushed a bit, looking to the side. Wanting to change the topic back to it's source, he cleared his throat and asked, "So I should start reading to him again?"

"Yes."

Steve nodded, "I'll do that."

That night he nervously approached Winter, tapping his arm, "Hey...Bucky?"

Winter glared him down, "Hm?"

"I really want to finish reading this chapter with you… is that alright?" He held up their book for clarification.

Something flickered in Winter's eyes and he nodded, letting Steve lead him by the hand to the couch. Winter shifted in surprise when Steve sat very close to him on purpose as he read, as if he were worried Winter might suddenly disappear. As this went on, Winter began to thaw again, but Steve noticed that he was still worrying over something.

As much as he wanted to ask what it was, he decided it would be revealed when Winter was ready.

Winter was stretching after a warm shower, having slung on some pjs, thinking that that might make Steve smile tonight when they read. He went to the kitchen, about to make a late night snack when Clint burst in from across the room, freezing when he caught sight of Winter.

"Cli-" He barely got out his name before Clint began rambling.

"Winter, Winter it's bad. Hydra. Hydra got them. They were out there," He pointed to the windows overlooking the city, "Out there on patrol and Hydra grabbed them. Winter, Winter what do we do!?"

"Clint, calm down, who was on patrol tonight?" Winter steadied Barnes within him to evoke a calmer exterior, but they were both in turmoil.

Please don't be Steve, please God, don't be Steve.

"Natasha and Steve. They were both captured."

Winter felt something inside him chill to a degree he hadn't felt since he lay in a pool of red snow, staring up into a blizzard.

Jarvis's voice almost wasn't registered, "Sirs, Mr. Stark would like to inform you that you are both going to be sequestered to this floor level together, since he believes, and I quote, 'they're going to try some stupid shit to get the love of their lives back and end up getting themselves killed in the process.' You will be unable to leave until the rest of the Avengers have come up with a plan. I will notify you at once if there are any changes. Please refrain from throwing yourselves out the windows, since they are locked and made of shatterproof glass."

With that his voice clicked off and Winter and Clint gave each other looks of pain.

Their hearts had been stolen by Hydra, and they were trapped until further notice.