George, Winnie, and Bucky stayed clinging together until Bucky's legs gave out. They were holding each other so tightly that he hardly fell more than an inch.

Bucky sniffed and said, "Sorry."

Winnie made a laughing, wet sound and said, "Sit down, sit down. Lord, look at you. Sit."

So she and George did just that, putting him down on the sofa after Angie jumped out of the way. Bucky laughed and hiccuped. He wiped his face with his metal hand and then used it to cradle his right arm to his chest. Winnie sat beside him and pulled him against her side. She planted kisses in his hair and watered them with her tears. George propped himself on the arm of the sofa.

"We've missed you so much. So much," Winnie said. She held Bucky out at arm's length and looked him up and down. "Never thought I'd see you again, and the way things were between you and your father when you left . . ."

Bucky nodded and tried to stop his eyes from leaking. Steve and the others moved in. Sitting side by side with Peggy, he watched Bucky's mechanical hand grip his right wrist.

"Can't stop shaking," Bucky said. "I'm actually here."

Steve couldn't have said it better himself.

Winnie pulled him close to her again. "You're skin and bone. Can I get you something? There must be something I can get you."

Bucky's head was shaking against her. "Just stay here." But he was sitting back as he said it.

"We're not lettin' you outta our sight for a long time, kid," George said. "You ever do that to us again we're lettin' Peggy over there shoot you more than just once."

"OK," he said. Emotion took up a lot of room in his throat when he said it.

Winnie reached out, putting a hand on Bucky's hollow cheek. She asked the room at large, "Shouldn't he be in a hospital?"

"Probably," Jim said lightly.

"I'm OK, Ma. I'm fine," Bucky said.

"Like hell you're fine," said George.

"Might take a lot of explaining, bringin' him to a hospital," Dum Dum said.

Peggy spoke up, "We could take them to one of the S.S.R.'s facilities. There'll be less curious onlookers."

Bucky shook his head. "Nah. I mean, it's fine. We'll both be fine. This is nothing." He shrugged his right side to prove it, but he bit his lip while he did it.

"Nice," said Gabe.

"F'gets worse, I'll tell ya," Bucky said. The exhaustion was crashing down on him again. "But it's bearable for now, I swear."

"We'll have Cece look at you first chance we get, how's that?" Winnie said. She ran a hand through his hair. "Gotta see your sisters, don't you? And all their little ones."

He nodded under her hand. Blowing out a breath to steady himself, Bucky looked over at Natasha. She was curled up on the end of the couch watching everything thoughtfully.

George was watching Bucky's eyes and said, "Who do we got here? You bring us home another daughter?"

It drew a watery laugh from Bucky. He gestured to Natasha. Hesitantly, she slid out of her defensive, curled-up position and sat on Bucky's wounded side. He said, "This is Natasha."

"Hello, Natasha," Winnie said with a gentle smile. "I can't thank you enough for bringing my son home."

There was pink in Natasha's hollow cheeks; she didn't know what to say. She looked to Bucky with wide eyes.

"It's alright," he said to her and then said something else to her in that language she kept whispering to him — Russian, if Peggy was right. To his parents, Bucky said, "She's not from around here."

George leaned forward and offered his hand. "Hey there, Natasha. I'm George."

Natasha put her skeletal hand in George's. "Hi."

"Wanna know something about my son, Natasha?" he continued.

"What?"

"I've seen him look at a lotta girls with hearts in his eyes," George said. Steve felt his face smiling; George knew how to speak to daughters better than anyone Steve had ever met. "But I ain't never seen him look at someone the way he just looked at you."

"It's because he's an idiot."

The whole room erupted in laughter.

Everyone stayed at the Crown on Broadway that night — Howard never surfaced from his laboratory. Bucky fell asleep with his head on his mother's shoulder and Natasha under his mechanical arm. Steve woke with Peggy curled up beside him on the couch; he thought he remembered Jarvis trying to convince everyone to sleep in one of the many vacant rooms. None of them had wanted to be parted from the others. Indeed, Jim, Gabe, and Dum Dum were damn near cuddling on the floor beside the Christmas tree.

Jarvis arranged for food to be brought up. He called it breakfast even though they'd all slept well past normal breakfast hours. Bucky and Natasha were slow to rouse despite how loudly their stomachs were growling for more to eat. Gabe checked the dressing on Bucky's wound when everyone was done eating. Again, Steve didn't like watching Bucky's frame shrink as they pulled back all the layers of borrowed clothing.

"Just a little bit of bleeding," Gabe said of the dressing. "Probably from your mama hugging you so hard."

"Shut up, Jones," Bucky murmured with his eyes at half-staff.

He pressed on the skin around the stitches a little. "How's that feel? It's a little swollen, but that's to be expected."

"It's fine."

"A real answer, Sergeant, please."

"S'little sore, but not bad. Normal."

Gabe smiled. "Alright. Well, you remember the drill? Any time you feel h—"

"I know. Figures that the spiel about signs of infection is one of the things I remember."

"Good to know you were listening to something," Dum Dum said.

"I was listening."

Steve said, "So you just ignored everything?"

"Look who's talking," Peggy said.

Angie and Jim had appointments to take care of and both were reluctant to leave.

"I'll see you for New Year's," Jim said to Bucky. He hugged Bucky with one arm and uncharacteristic gentleness. When they separated, he said, "I can't wait to see the look on Frenchie's face when he sees you."

Dum Dum and Gabe were the next to leave. They had similar sentiments to Jim before they left. Steve was sure he'd see them both before the scheduled New Year's reunion.

It wasn't long after their departure when Winnie suggested that Bucky wash the stench of the streets off.

"It's a good idea," Natasha said to him.

"Yeah, wash up, boy," George said. "We gotta talk to your girl without you here."

Bucky rolled his eyes, and he looked heartbreakingly close to how he used to. "If the two of you were alone in a room — I'd be more worried about you, Dad."

"I'm just more intrigued."

"Don't worry," Peggy said, "I'll keep them separated."

Bucky pushed himself up from the couch with his left hand and Winnie's help. His knees cracked as he straightened. "Um, Steve?" he said.

Nothing else needed to be said; Steve got to his feet and walked along at Bucky's side to the bathroom. Steve shut the door once they made it inside. Bucky leaned on the wall and squeezed his eyes closed. The lines around his eyes — Steve knew those lines.

"Hey," he said, "what is it? Bucky, what, is it your arm?"

He shook his head against the wall. The grease in his hair was leaving little stains. "I just don't know what I'm doing here."

Steve blinked and stood there with his mouth open like an idiot. Then it hit him with the force of a tonne of bricks. Steve picked Bucky off the wall and crushed him in a hug.

"You idiot," Steve said. "You moron. I thought you were dead, Bucky. You were dead — for three years. I've lived with you dead for three years. You idiot, you stupid idiot. I don't care if you don't remember. None of them care that you don't remember, because it's you — alive."

"The things I've done," Bucky said to Steve's shirt. "What I've done —"

"Shut up."

"The gulag—"

"I don't care, Bucky."

"After all HYDRA—"

"Stop talking."

The mechanical fist slammed into the wall. "I have this. I remember getting it stuck to me. The people — Jesus, the things they made me do with this thing."

"Bucky!" Steve said. "Bucky, shut up. I don't care about your metal arm beyond the fact that you're attached to it and that you're alive. Just shut up, you idiot."

"Steve."

"Bucky, please, let me have this. I'm so tired of missing you — I just want to have you back. OK? I've been having beers in a cemetery every few weeks with your empty grave for years! Just let me have you back, and we'll figure out the rest."

They breathed against each other. Their chests reached for each other, pushed, and retreated. Bucky was still in Steve's arms. Long minutes passed with them like this, neither of them moving beyond breathing.

"You didn't fall asleep while I'm trying to talk to you, did you, you jerk?" Steve said.

He felt Bucky's flighty breath of laughter on his neck. "No. Near thing though."

It had been so long since they'd been together like this. Steve tightened his hold in case it wasn't real; he still wasn't entirely convinced. The types of things he'd run into with the S.S.R. made him believe in things that caused prolonged hallucinations of things you loved.

"I raided Krausberg the first time I thought war killed you," Steve said. "What do you think it was like the second time, when it was my fault?"

"Wasn't your fault."

Steve closed his eyes. "Shut up."

"Yer still uh punk."

Steve rocked his weight a little. "You gettin' tired just standing up?" he said in a teasing voice. The Commandos used to say the same thing when Bucky moaned during long marches. As sniper, he was almost always lying around.

"Little bit."

"C'mon then. Let's get you cleaned up and go home."

"Kay."

Steve let Bucky back out of the embrace, but he could have gone with a few more (long) seconds. There would be plenty more time for that. Years of time for it. They were going to go home. Steve didn't have to miss him anymore, didn't have to talk to a ghost. Having Bucky in front of him made Steve realise how much he hadn't stopped grieving the loss. Having Bucky in front of him made Steve realise that he never would have stopped grieving the loss.

"Your timing is impeccable by the way," Steve said.

"Yeah. Merry Christmas, I'm not dead."

They didn't have to miss each other anymore.

Epilogue to follow, featuring: the Barnes sisters, pancakes, full Howlers reunion, and hints of things to come (AKA the dreaded open/ambiguous ending)!

Oh, and have I said thank you for all your tear-inducing reviews? Thank you so much! I'm astounded, floored, humbled...and a little suspicious 'cause my junk just doesn't get feedback like this. What is going on? But I know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. I will simply say I am very, very thankful to all of you. That includes you, too, lurkers!