Hey guys! So here you have chapter 4! It's a bit of an emotional plaster after chapter 3. I try to put some quiet moments in in between which I hope you guys don't mind.
Just a quick reminder that this is an AU fanfiction and is not compliant with the movies. I really hope you enjoy chapter 4!
Chapter 4
The last thing Steve could remember was the door behind them opening and two men rushing in. Bucky had gotten off of Steve immediately and had backed away into the corner like a tiger frightened by fire. Steve had been lifted up carefully and carried out of the room immediately, leaving Bucky in the room on his own with Steve's blood smeared all over his metal hand.
Steve.
The sound of music playing far away pulled Steve out of the darkness of unconsciousness. The music confused him and he wondered whether or not he was dreaming. The more he concentrated on it, the closer the music seemed to get until he felt like he had broken the surface and his mind seemed to reconnect to his body. His eyes opened slowly, hesitantly. The bright light streaming in through the window hurt his aching head and he cringed. He kept his eyes narrowed to slits until he finally felt ready to brave the light, opening his eyes all the way and looking around. He was in a cramped room with blue walls. It wasn't a hospital room, he knew those far too well and this wasn't one of them. Whatever it was though, it served to cater for hurt people- people like Steve. He was lying on a soft bed next to a window, bathed in the warm glow of the sun. There was a dark brown wooden beside table next to his bed. A vase with flowers of all shapes and sizes was sitting atop the table, next to a docking station with an iPod safely lodged into its plug. So that's where the music was coming from. It was then that his eyes came to rest on Sam who was sitting in a chair next to Steve's bed, reading a magazine. "What happened?" Steve asked him quietly, cringing when his voice hurt even more than it had before the past incident.
"The exact thing I was trying to avoid when I told you not to go in there." Sam replied coolly, "Your pal lost it and dug into you like he was trying to wipe any traces of you off the face of mother Earth." Steve let his head sink back into his pillow, sighing. It took his concussed brain a while to piece together the shards of memories floating around in his troubled mind. He waited patiently, examining the feint cracks in the ceiling while he waited. He knew that the memory was worth the wait, knew that something important had happened shortly before he lost consciousness.
About five minutes later all of it came back like a violent wave, flushing over him and cleansing his brain of any traces of confusion. Punches that had made his head ring and made him lose his bearings completely. Rage. Uncontrolled, frenzied rage at the fact that it hurt- it hurt to remember. He remembered the overwhelming amount of pain numbing his own body. He remembered his own feelings of anguish, helplessness and heartbreak at what had been so clearly displayed on Bucky's face. He remembered the wish to lose consciousness and never wake up. He remembered his desperate wish to fix the broken look on Bucky's face, wanting to reach out and cup his face and promise that it was okay- that it was going to be okay. He recalled the look of horror on Bucky's face shortly before Buck had said his name. He remembered the way Bucky had said his name.
Steve was sure that Bucky wasn't nearly close to remembering exactly who Steve was or what the two of them had experienced as kids, but something told him that Bucky knew the value Steve had in his life. That was more than Steve ever could have dreamed of. He wasn't dead to Bucky anymore, he was a somebody, the one person Bucky seemed to know. Steve liked to tell himself that that was the reason he hadn't snapped sooner- that somewhere deep in his heart, Bucky had known Steve all along. He'd have to ask Bucky about that when the time was right but right then and there he was more concerned about the damage Bucky had done. "How bad?" Steve croaked, rubbing his throat with one of his big hands as if that would make it stop hurting. "Broke your cheekbone, your nose, two ribs… probably gave you a concussion."
"That's not too bad." Steve tried to joke but Sam shot him a glare that said lengths about how funny Sam thought all of this was. In fact, Steve had never seen Sam that mad before. "You know it'll heal quickly… it always does." Steve tried to pour some water onto the fire but Sam gave him a look that told him that it wasn't helping. "You knew this was going to happen, didn't you Steve?" Sam sounded reproachful. Steve averted his eyes for a moment, looking out at the now largely overcast sky with a frown before answering. "I did."
"Then why did you go in there?"
"Because Bucky would have done the same for me." Steve had said it like it explained everything and in a way, it did. Sam could understand what Steve felt. If it had been Riley in there, damn it Sam would have thrown himself into that hazardous situation without thinking twice about it. He'd probably do it even if Riley had beaten him up as badly as Bucky had Steve. That's when Sam knew that the next question out of Steve's mouth was going to be 'when can I see him?'.
"I just don't wanna lose another friend." Sam admitted, bowing his head and staring down at the article he had been engrossed in before Steve had woken up. "I know Sam." Steve's voice was so earnest; the kind of earnest his voice always was. It made Sam wonder if Steve had ever lied to someone in his entire life. "I know exactly how you feel. Why do you think I'm so desperate to help Bucky? I want to make sure that I don't have to go through losing him again. And Sam?" Sam raised his head to look at Steve who was smiling at him lightly, "You're not gonna lose me. You know I don't die that easily."
"Yeah you're a hardy bastard nowadays." Sam grunted and Steve chuckled, despite how much it hurt to do.
"So when can I see him again?" A grin spread across Sam's face.
"As soon as you're back on your feet I guess. I'd suggest giving the both of you some time to work through things though." Sam closed the magazine and placed it on the bedside table, "Another thing though… You were right." He paused, smirking at the quizzical arch to Steve's blond eyebrows, "He definitely… He remembered you Steve."
Steve would be lying if he said that his head didn't ache as though he had slammed it into a concrete wall at least a dozen times and that after having waited an entire day before returning to the interrogation room. On top of that, nausea had become his constant companion. He kept wondering whether or not Bucky had been holding back. Something told him that he had. If punching a hole into a cement wall proved to be almost too easy for Bucky, then crushing a skull was probably like snapping a toothpick for him. Steve's neck ached just as much as his face, and his back and ribs were agonizing! Despite it all, and with the help of a handful of pain medication, Steve was once again standing in front of the interrogation room. Rhodey was standing next to him, making his disapproval of this plan clear with the deep frown on his face. It had taken Steve almost half an hour to convince Rhodey to let him see Bucky again. Eventually Sam had chipped in with something helpful which ended up giving Rhodey the last little nudge in the right direction.
Although it had been just over a day since the incident, Steve still felt remarkably shaken by it. He hadn't even been able to sleep properly the night before, knowing that he was going to face Bucky again soon. His entire body was begging him not to go back in there and his mind brought forth all too vivid memories of the pain he had endured under the force of Bucky's frightening metal hand. Never in his life had he felt quite that helpless in the face of an attacker. He had the best training in the world and was incredibly strong himself and yet he stood not an inkling of a chance against Bucky. Part of the familiarity of it made him want to smile. "The shield was left in there?" Steve gestured to the door with his head. When Rhodey nodded slowly, Steve frowned, "Then I'll have to go in without it, won't I?" He didn't wait for a reply from Rhodey, didn't give himself enough time to start questioning his resolve before pushing down on the door handle and slipping inside.
His eyes found the spot between the chair and the table where he had lain and he spotted some blood on the floor. It was strange knowing that it was his blood, stranger even that it didn't shake him up as much as he had expected it to. Bucky was sitting in his corner on the floor, looking older and more broken than he had ever looked. He kept his head bowed and this time, his shoulders were slumped. There was absolutely no tension in Bucky's body whatsoever. His metal arm hung at his side, the wrist bending precariously to let the hand lie on the floor at a strange angle. It was like the fight had been sucked right out of him. If Steve hadn't been more worried about Bucky than he was about himself in that moment, maybe he would have hurried to grab his shield but as things were, his eyes didn't leave Bucky's hunched over form for a second. "Buck?" Bucky's head snapped up, his long hair sticking to the sides of his filthy, sweaty face. His widened eyes took in what Steve looked like and he cringed, biting down on his tongue so hard that it drew blood, gushing into his mouth.
He'd done that.
He'd hurt Steve.
Steve had been right with his assumption that Bucky wasn't quite sure exactly who Steve was. All he knew now was that Steve was important. He had to make sure Steve stayed alive; had to protect Steve. But he'd hurt him and he felt like he was being punished again for messing up an assignment. The thing about this pain though, was that regardless of how bad it got, he never went numb because of it. It wasn't his body that was being hurt, it was something else, something inside that ached. It made him want to smash his own head into pieces with that metal hand of his.
"Do you remember me?" Steve asked him after another long silence. The sound of his deep voice made Bucky's skin crawl. It wasn't a negative feeling, just something he hadn't been trained to know how to handle. Ignoring it was easier. "You're Steve." Bucky mumbled, averting his eyes once he'd said it. Talking was never something they had encouraged him to do. The only time he spoke was when giving orders to men that were worth even less than he was or when confirming that he had understood what he had to do. But if Steve wanted him to talk, he would talk. "I'm sorry that I set you off yesterday." Steve said. Bucky was looking at Steve like it was all just far too late while Steve… well, Steve was smiling at him like it was never too late. It was overwhelming and it brought forth those same emotions that Bucky didn't know how to deal with. He hadn't felt for so long, so why was he starting to feel now? He wasn't even sure if he wanted to feel.
"It wasn't you." His mouth was working against Bucky's will and it annoyed him but felt so natural that he let it happen. Talking to this man, talking to Steve, felt like the most natural thing on earth, like he had done it for years already, like it was one of his favourite things to do. "Well, I guess it's none of my business anyway." Steve continued to stand in the middle of the room a little awkwardly, "I just want you to know that I'm sorry for how things went yesterday."
"It wasn't you." Bucky repeated monotonously, grinding the fingers of his left hand together absent-mindedly. Steve nodded, not wanting to aggravate Bucky. He was astounded by how much Bucky was talking to him and it confirmed Sam's statement from earlier: he knew him.
"How are you feeling Bucky?"
"I don't know how to answer that."
"Is there anything you want? I'm sure I can get you something."
"I don't know how to answer that."
"Are you hungry?" Steve tried a different approach and Bucky nodded, "Do you want me to get you something to eat?" Bucky's brow furrowed and he looked around the room. There was something in his eyes, maybe longing. It reminded Steve of the look the tigers would have at the zoo. They would pace back and forth in their exhibits with that same longing gaze, wishing they could run free and stretch their legs. "Do you want to come with me?" Steve asked. The soldier blinked, looking at Steve like he couldn't quite believe what he'd just said. "There's one condition though." Steve added and Bucky nodded. There were always conditions, he was good with conditions- they trained him to be. "You aren't allowed to hurt anyone." Bucky frowned. Not hurting anyone was probably one of the toughest conditions he'd gotten in a very long time. More often than not his body would just respond on its own, the years of training kicking in like an autopilot of sorts. He didn't know if he could control himself well enough not to hurt anyone and yet he found himself nodding. A few seconds later the door opened and Bucky was on his feet. With two large steps, he was standing between Steve and the man, glaring dagger at him. His hands wanted to reach for his knives but he knew that they weren't there anymore. "It's okay Bucky." Steve assured him, "Colonel, next time, if it's not too much to ask…" He scratched his cheek a little sheepishly, "Could you knock?"
"Right." Rhodey nodded, offering Steve and Bucky an apologetic look before his face straightened out again, "Captain can I talk to you out here for a second?" Bucky recognized the man. He was one of the two who had come to drag Steve out the day before.
"Sure. Buck I'll be back just now okay?" Bucky didn't respond but instead kept glaring at the man at the door with an intensity that could probably kill someone. Steve hurried past Bucky and out of the door as quickly as he could without crying out in pain when his ribs complained. Once the door was closed, Rhodey turned to frown at Steve. "Taking him out?" Steve had totally forgotten that there were people watching from the room next door. "Make him feel safe. That's one of the steps we need to take." Steve clung onto the protocol, knowing that it was his best shot at convincing Rhodey of his plan, "There's no way we'll make him feel safe by keeping him in that room for the rest of his life. Bucky recognized me and you saw that he listened to me about the condition. We have to bring him back to reality, give him a lifeline to hold onto. This is me doing that. He needs to learn that other people aren't bad. He shouldn't start clinging to me." Regardless of how much Steve actually wanted that…
"And where are you thinking of taking him?" Rhodey asked him gruffly, shoving his hands into the pockets of the navy blue pair of pants he was wearing. "Down to the burger place around the corner."
"Outside?"
"Yes."
"Outside of the police station?"
"Yes."
"You're making him face other humans?"
"I am." The Colonel's eyes narrowed and Steve held his breath expectantly. It took Rhodey quite some time to come up with a response to that while Steve was left to wait hopefully. "Someone will fetch the burgers." Rhodey turned to look at Steve again, having been in the middle of pacing up and down the hallway, "You will stay in the park where there's enough space for Barnes not to feel threatened by anything. I hope you are aware of the fact that we don't know anything about his triggers yet so keep your eyes out for those."
"I will sir." Steve nodded, "I promise nothing will happen."
"I hope not. He might be Sergeant Barnes but that doesn't mean he isn't whatever the people that held him captive made him. We've had him for less than a week; they had him for almost four years- keep that in mind too. He could singlehandedly kill a group of grown men and you're taking him into a park with children. I hope you are aware of the risks involved." Steve nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He tried not to think about Bucky hurting a child, tried not to think about the possibility that he'd done something like that before. As things were, all he knew was that Bucky had been held captive, tortured and probably forced to do horrible things judging by his strength and combat abilities. "I'll go talk to Sam. Wait for him to talk to you before letting Barnes out." Rhodey sighed, turning and walking over to the other room while Steve tried to push away the thought of Bucky killing a defenceless child while wearing the same cold glare he had worn the first time he had attacked Steve.
Five minutes later Sam came sauntering out of the observation room, holding out a black hoodie for Steve to take. Rhodey followed suit, nodding to the two men before making his way to his office briskly, leaving the two to discuss the rest of Steve's plan. "This is insane; you know that right?" Sam asked him rhetorically, "But you know the guy and I kind of think that your approach is gonna achieve way more than anything written in any book."
"Thank you Sam." Steve let his gratitude pour into his voice, his face bent into the expression that made him look like an excessively thankful Golden Retriever. Sam smiled at him, nodding in acknowledgement. "So what can I get the two of you?"
"Two burgers without onions with fries and two cokes."
"Roger that Captain." Sam saluted Steve, making the taller man laugh lightly, "Give Barnes that to wear." He gestured to the hoodie with an index finger, "Don't want him drawing too much attention to himself with that arm of his. Oh and another thing? Send me a text every now and then so I know everything's still fine and I don't have to call for help." Sam strode down the corridor without looking back, whistling a tune to himself as we went. Steve looked down at the hoodie, wondering where Sam had gotten it from before shaking off that thought and turning around to go fetch Bucky.
He opened the door to the interrogation room all the way, leaning against the doorframe and smiling at Bucky who was watching him warily. "You ready to go Buck?" He asked and Bucky nodded, "Put this on over your shirt alright?" Bucky caught the hoodie Steve had thrown to him, examining it before pulling it over carefully. He looked uncomfortable in it, like it constricted his movements in some way. Steve noticed that the material was tighter over Bucky's left shoulder and he made a mental note to pay attention to that when it was time to buy him new clothes.
It took quite some time before Bucky made his way across the cramped room and into the corridor. His eyes were darting around constantly, a symptom of his hyper-vigilance. Although they had him relaxed in the interrogation room, all of this was new and strange and he had to make sure that there were no threats around. "Sam, a friend of mine is getting the burgers so you don't have to be so close to people. There's a really nice park across the road from the police station that I'm sure you'll like." Bucky didn't give Steve much of a response, instead waited for instructions on what to do. When Steve turned around with a sigh to walk ahead of Bucky, Bucky followed. Everyone in the police station had heard all about the instable war veteran James Barnes and behaved accordingly. Most people stopped talking and stared while others tried to avoid looking at him at all costs, afraid of drawing his attention. Steve continued to keep up an easy flow of words though, ignoring the stares and telling Bucky about random things that had happened to him during Bucky's absence. "And well, I dated her for a while but Sharon, although she's really sweet and all… it just didn't make sense, you know?" He finished just as they had reached the sliding doors at the front of the police station, "You aren't gonna bolt on me are you?" He turned to look at Bucky who looked like he had just snapped out of a little daydream. His eyes were soft for only a moment before hardening back into their dead stare. "No." He affirmed, shoving his left hand into the pocket of the black hoodie.
"Good." Steve smiled at him before turning and leading the way outside, "Just trust me Buck, nothing's gonna happen to you while I'm around." Just like the day before, the sky was overcast and Steve thought it was probably better that way. There were less people around the park, most of them having stayed home in fear of rain. There were more cars on the road though and he noticed Bucky jerk at the sound of screeching tires and horns. He wanted to place a hand on his shoulder to comfort him but he didn't know how Bucky responded to physical contact so he left it. "You're okay. I know it's loud but nothing's gonna hurt you out here." Steve assured him, "We need to cross the road to get to the park and then we'll wait for Sam to bring us the burgers. The noise from the cars isn't half as bad behind the trees so just try and hold out for a second." He walked ahead of Bucky, praying that the slightly shorter man would just follow him, that he wasn't stuck in a flashback due to the loud noises. He had forgotten to ask Sam how he would get Bucky out of a flashback like that without setting him off. He regretted it now but he figured that he'd find a way. He stopped at a pedestrian crossing, pleased to find Bucky draw up next to him. While they waited for their robot to turn green, Bucky took the opportunity to look around. Steve noticed him drawing in deeper breaths, obviously enjoying the fresher air. Their robot turned green and the cars heading their way stopped behind the white line. Bucky eyed them distrustfully but followed Steve across the road with only a few convincing words from Steve needed.
They settled down on one of the benches in a quieter part of the park. He had been here with Sam before so he knew that Sam would find them. "It's nice out isn't it?" Steve asked quietly but once again, Bucky didn't respond. Deflated, Steve leant back against the bench and brought out his phone to text Sam that they were in the park now.
Talking used to be so easy with Bucky. They would talk and laugh for hours until Steve was laughing so hard that he could feel an asthma attack come along and he had to somehow get Bucky to shut up 'cause I'm 'bout a die ya jerk!
"You don't remember anything from before that arm, do you?" Steve heard himself ask and he bowed his head, not wanting to see the look on Bucky's face when he answered. "No." His head sunk a little farther and he closed his eyes, clenching his jaw so hard that his teeth ground together, "Steve." Bucky said and Steve forced himself to look up at his best friend, or, what was left of him. Bucky was watching him, his eyebrows furrowing ever the slightest bit. "I'm sorry," Steve muttered, "It's just… it's difficult to deal with. I have all these memories of you but you hardly remember who I am."
"I know who you are… you're Steve."
"Then what's my second name?" Steve pressed, trying to prove to Bucky and to himself that things just weren't that easy! He was pretending to be strong, pretending to be fine with all of this for Bucky's sake. Hell, all Steve ever did was for Bucky's sake. He thought back to what the elderly man had said a few days back, having told Steve to live his life for the two of them. Now Steve realized that that's all Steve had ever done, even before Bucky left with the army. He'd lived his life for the two of them all along. That's why his life had made no sense without Bucky. "I don't know what your second name is." Bucky finally gave up and Steve closed his eyes to compose himself. He wanted to cry. He wanted to curl into Bucky's side and wail for all he was worth. This was all just so painful and difficult. He was carrying the load for the two of them and Steve wasn't sure he was cut out for such a heavy load. He could feel the foundation underneath his feet crack and he knew that it would eventually give way, yanking the ground out from beneath him. He couldn't afford to let that happen, not while he was the one keeping Bucky from falling.
The two sat in silence until Bucky spotted a man approaching and tensed up visibly. Alerted by Bucky's change in posture, Steve scanned the horizon and found Sam walking towards them hesitantly with a plastic bag wound around his wrist. His eyes were trained on Bucky, much in the same way the latter's eyes were fixed on him. "That's Sam." Steve explained, "He's my friend who's bringing us food. He's not going to hurt you." What Steve said helped a little but not enough to release the spring-like tension in Bucky's shoulders. Sam stopped on Steve's side of the bench, holding out the plastic bag for Steve to take. "Two burgers without onions, fries and two large cokes." He recited the order, smirking when Steve gave him a thankful grin.
"You're a lifesaver Sam! Thank you so much!" He put the bag down next to him, making sure the drinks were standing upright before letting go of the straps "Bucky, this is Sam. Sam, this is Bucky." He introduced the two and Sam nodded in acknowledgement while Bucky continued to stare at him with icy eyes. Steve wanted to sigh. "See this is how he treats everyone that's not you." Sam pointed out, taking a step to the side when Bucky tensed up a little more, "So anyway… just let me know every once in a while, that things are okay, alright?"
"Sure I will. Why don't you go to a coffee shop somewhere close and take a break? When's the last time you were outside?"
"Good question buddy. My Mustang's already gathering dust with how long it's been standing in front of that police station." Sam hummed, "I think I'll go find myself a nice place that sells croissants. Croissants are good." He turned to Bucky, "You should try them some time." With that he turned around on his heel and marched off, holding up his phone in a silent reminder for Steve to text him.
Bucky only relaxed again once Sam was almost completely out of sight. "He's a good guy you know?" Steve muttered in Sam's defence, fishing out Bucky's Styrofoam container and his drink and putting them down on the bench between the two of them for Bucky to take when he was ready, "He helps veterans with PTSD like you. He spends a lot of time with them, trying to make things easier for them. He even organizes service dogs for some of them. His friends Natasha and Clint, who are also my friends by the way, run a place that trains dogs and people for security firms and they have someone specialized in service dog training." When Bucky still didn't respond, Steve bit down on his lip, chewing it anxiously. It hurt Steve to see Bucky like this. It hurt so incredibly much! It was like all he was, was alive; he wasn't living. There was a huge difference between being alive and actually living and this showed Steve just how big the difference really was. He had so much he wanted to tell Bucky; four years' worth of things that were just dying to be told but not like this, not when he could just as well have been talking to someone in a coma. He wanted to see that charming smile of Bucky's, wanted to hear his laugh, wanted to hear him just talk and talk the way he used to; but whoever they were, they'd put a muzzle on him like he was some kind of monster and had burnt the command to keep quiet onto his heart as a constant reminder.
Before he started eating, he texted Sam a quick smiley to let him know that everything was okay. Half-heartedly, he fished out his burger and shoved most of it into his mouth at once, wanting to get all of it over with before another wave of nausea had the chance to ruin his minimal appetite. Next to him, Bucky was eating a little more slowly, watching Steve from the corner of his eye. Steve swallowed the lump of food in one go but regretted it immediately. He had forgotten about the fact that his throat was still sore from being strangled. He let out a low gurgle when pain surged through his entire neck and it felt like the muscles in charge of forcing the food down, were cramping up. He began coughing, choking on the food that had now successfully gotten lodged in his throat. He was so preoccupied with trying to stop himself from coughing while simultaneously choking, that he didn't notice Bucky lean over. He was holding his drink in his right hand, using his left to raise Steve's chin. Startled, Steve wanted to pull back but Bucky held onto his chin tightly and with a groan Steve gave in. Bucky pushed the straw of his coke through Steve's lips before uttering a short "Drink." Steve fought down the urge to cough just long enough to take a big sip of coke and swallow it. "Again." Bucky instructed and Steve nodded numbly, taking one sip after the other. The liquid began pushing down against the food and forced it further down, sending shivers of pain racing over Steve's skin as if he were suffering from a bad flu. As soon as his throat was free, he leant forward, clasping onto his throat with both hands. "Damn… that really hurt. Thanks for helping me out there, Buck!" He gasped, taking deep breaths to convince himself that he was no longer choking.
"Your throat hurts." It wasn't a question, more of a statement and Steve nodded, knowing that there was no point in hiding it. The bruises on his throat had gotten worse and let's not start on the ones on his face. "I did that." Bucky added so quietly that Steve almost missed it.
"Hey don't worry about it pal, you were scared and you didn't know any better. I'm not mad at you for it or anything."
"But I did it… I hurt you Steve." Bucky argued, clenching his left hand into a tight fist. Steve could see that he was getting riled up again and a riled up Bucky who still didn't know enough to develop common sense was incredibly dangerous. He tried to think of anything to say or ask to distract him from the topic at hand, not knowing of anything else to do to diffuse his quick temper. "Do you think you want to try a burger with onions next?" Bucky looked up at him, puzzled for a moment due to the abrupt change in topic, "I mean, you know? So you can check if you still don't like onions."
"What else does he-, do I… like?" Steve's face lit up immediately and he turned to face Bucky completely, his meal forgotten. He told Bucky about how he preferred summer to winter, how he loved to go swimming. He told him that he liked plums, especially the ones that old Miss Carter had in her garden. They would sometimes help her out in her garden and she would give them a whole bag of plums in return. Bucky would always keep the entire bag on his lap while they watched TV afterwards and Steve would hardly ever get his fair share of them. He told him that he loved dancing and that he sometimes used to drink too much before apologizing profusely because Stevie I'm just no good. I'm sorry pal, I'm no good at all.
He told him about the endless winters where Bucky would keep him warm in a desperate attempt to keep him from getting sick again. "I got sick a lot. But no matter how sick I was, you were always there for me though. 'Kept sitting by my bedside, putting cold rags on my forehead to bring down my fever." He told him about the hot summer months where they would buy cheap ice-cream that really didn't taste like anything but that was so nice and cold. He told him about how often Steve got into fights when he saw someone be rude to a woman or generally mean or disrespectful. He never stood a chance, Steve told him, laughing at the memory. "But you were always there to bail me out. You'd lecture me for hours afterwards while you fixed up my wounds. I was hopeless." Bucky had listened the entire time, a distant hue to his eyes while he tried to recall everything Steve was so fondly describing. All of a sudden his eyes widened slightly and he turned his head to look at Steve who stopped talking immediately.
"Grant." He said, "Your second name is Grant."
And there you have it! I really hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think! :)