"You wanna go to Stark's?!" Barton's voice was strained. He seemed offended.

"I'm not gonna lie to you, Bucky, my feelings are a little hurt. Stark's?! That guy's a pretentious asshat, and a bully. Thinks he so fucking great because he can build overhyped suits of armor. This isn't the Middle Ages, we're not jousting are we?"

He'd lost Bucky at 'asshat,' but Natasha seemed to be following, clearly amused.

"Barton, your weapon of choice is a bow and arrow. You want to talk about outdated, that's literally prehistoric."

"What?! No! It's timeless, that's what it is. You can't improve upon perfection, just add attachments."

"Asshat?" Bucky threw into the mix.

"Yeah, you know? Got his head up his ass so much he's wearing it like a hat. The visual's pretty explicit."

Bucky grimaced at the explanation. It was crude and distasteful, not that 'asshole' was any better. "So, you don't like Stark."

"No, no, I like him fine. You know, like how you like the postal service. Right? You know it's necessary, and you appreciate the work it does, but goddamn you'd think by now it'd realize all the problems it has and stop acting like it's the best fucking thing since sliced bread."

Natasha was full-on grinning at this point.

"I don't like him as much as last generation, as his father, Howard, I'll give you that, but he's offering me something I want." Bucky flexed the units digits and looked back up at them. "I'll-if he was serious about the offer-I will stay with him until the arm's finished…and then, maybe, I can come back here once the shock of…everything has blown over."

"Makes sense," Natasha said, not caring that Clint was glaring at her. "You are recovering more every day. No doubt a few more days and one less thing reminding you of the past-the regrettable past-will help you cope better."

"And then I can pick back up with Barton."

"Hey, man, there's not much I can do for you you haven't already done for yourself. I'm obsolete at this point."

"No. Barton, modest as he is, knows more about the world than just how to recover from brainwashing. He can help you reintegrate, probably better than I can, seeing as I'm in deeper cover than he is. Plus, you guys have a good rapport, and he needs the friend."

"I'd act offended but it's true and I'm past caring." Clint shrugged, "I'm also a member of a firing range nearby, so when you're finally action-ready again, we can train together. I can't match you strength-wise but I know that I can hold my own in shooting. I don't miss."

"I'd appreciate it." Bucky nodded his gratefulness towards Clint. The latter shrugged as usual.

"You got it."

"Good. If that's an acceptable plan to everyone, I'll go ahead and contact Stark."

Bucky still couldn't meet Natasha's eye, but he did look up enough to nod his affirmation.

"Okay, I'll be right back."

Both Clint and Bucky watched Natasha walk away.

"You know, I'm impressed."

Bucky looked over at him, a question obviously on his face.

"Most guys, with more cause than yours to not sleep with her, still would have."

"I met her first when she was twelve. That's enough cause for anyone, or it should be."

"Yeah, but… she's pretty clearly not twelve anymore."

"It's hard to see that for me now. She… just kind of looks twelve, mostly."

Bucky ran his hand through his much shorter hair. It seemed a natural gesture, felt natural, too. He really did feel more like someone real, like himself, with his hair cut.

"For your sake, man, I hope that wears off. Me? I don't miss. Nat? She doesn't not get what she wants. She just doesn't give up."

"Yeah, I've seen that before. They always find a way. Sometimes, that way's worse than not getting it." He remembered who she'd reminded him of all those years ago, of course he couldn't have realized it then, his memory wiped as it was. It was Steve. The kid too stupid to back down from anything. And he got what he wanted. Seeing him get it had crushed Bucky. Natasha seemed like she might not be all that different.

"Let's hope something gets resolved in the meantime."

"Yeah. Actually, I bet Stark can help you with that, too. He used to practically be a revolving door with women. He's bound to have coping techniques for backfires. That and he can hook you up with some of those moves. I don't need 'em so I couldn't teach them to you, but Stark's smoother than silk. He could sell an atheist a Bible, if he tried."

Bucky stared at his hands for a moment, then covered the unit's with his own. "It's that kind of thing that I want to avoid. Stark acts like he's reformed. I want to see how that happens."

"Wait. So, you want to not try things with Nat?"

"Not necessarily." Bucky didn't know how to explain himself, there were too many thoughts swirling around this subject.

He just wanted to do things, act without wondering if it was him or another person. Stark was clearly a man who put on airs. If he could see how he did that, Bucky could avoid doing that. If he couldn't, he could ask Stark how he stopped, how he could live as one person and think as another. How he lived with his ghosts, especially the ghost of himself. If he could do it, Bucky could figure out how.

"I have ghosts," he finally said. "The problem is, I can't tell what's a ghost and what's real."

Clint nodded, waiting for him to go on.

"I want to be able to separate this," he looked at the unit, "and my older self. If I know which is which and when each is motivating things, then I think I'll finally have control. Stop the flashbacks and make them actual memories. Then, I can start over. Really start over. With everyone."

"A logical plan."

Bucky jerked his head up. Natasha had snuck up on their conversation again. She was nodding, but she too was avoiding his gaze.

"You need someone who's lived a kind of dual life like what's been forced on you. And someone who's come out on top. Stark's your man. He's heading over now. I hope you don't get carsick. He drives like a maniac."

"So," Barton leaned in, "how much of… of all that did you hear?"

Natasha shrugged dismissively in perfect imitation of Barton. "Not much. I came in around the metaphor with the ghosts. An appropriate comparison, in my opinion. If our ghosts weren't intertwined, I'd be able to relate and help you, Barnes."

She fell silent for a second, staring off above their heads and then kicked her heel against the door jamb. "He'll be here in the hour, so we'd better get you prepped."

"I don't have anything to pack." Bucky was confused.

"No, not packing. Prepping. Normal people need to be briefed in order to be stuck with Stark for extended intervals."

"Otherwise, they go insane," Clint added. Natasha rolled her eyes.

"You mean, to endure the nicknames?"

"Yes. Among other things."

Prepping for Tony Stark was worse than that first day of new recruit training. At least Bucky knew what the words meant in new recruit training.

"And… what does that have to do with pepper?"

"Oh, that's Virginia Potts. Pepper is her nickname. Pepper with an upper case p."

"And they live together."

"Yes. If you need anything, a break from Stark, a breath of sanity, anything. Pepper's your go-to outlet. She's very sensible and approachable. Okay, now when, and this will happen to you, Stark descends into a flurry of jargon and slang that you can't recognize, you have to stop him and tell him that you don't understand. Otherwise, he'll keep on and you'll never catch up. And, don't let him bully you, verbally. I doubt he'll try anything physically because you're twice his size basically, but he has a big mouth and he knows how to push pressure points, most of the time without thinking because he's an egomaniacal narcissist. Warn him before he triggers you. We can't have a dead billionaire genius. He's no good to us that way."

Natasha was ticking points off on her fingers. It was possibly the most Bucky had heard her say in one go.

"Be sure to ask him about Banner while you're there. If you can meet Banner and see Stark function at the same time, all the better. The two of them are good friends and I think you'll get along very well with Banner, who's a much more down-to-earth man."

"He's the one that turns into that Hulk thing, right?"

"Correct."

"He's the down-to-earth one?"

Clint snorted behind them, but Natasha just nodded with all seriousness. "Yes."

"Okay." Bucky was not comforted by this. He may have made a mistake.

"Stark was correct yesterday. Banner could very well be the most helpful among us in getting you to reign in all those flashbacks, and the rage. He has some experience with rage."

Again, Clint snorted. Bucky was beginning to feel that he was completely missing some things that this group of people, the Avengers or whatever, had already learned about one another. He was starting out far behind.

"So, be sure to ask about him. Also, and this may just be my personal preference, but I wouldn't allow Stark to showboat if he starts. Just call Pepper. She'll shut him down. Oh, and one more thing. Stark lives, basically relies entirely on an AI assistant, JARVIS. Be ready for that."

"AI?"

"Artificial Intelligence. It's a program Stark wrote that learns and adapts. At this point it's basically a human consciousness without a body. He acts like a personal assistant for Stark from coffee making to acting as autopilot for Stark's suits. You'll get used to him."

"JARVIS."

"Yes."

Bucky drew a deep breath. The technology in this time was sometimes too much for him. "That's unbelievable. I mean, yes, Howard Stark had come up with some incredible things, floating cars and stuff, but a non-human human brain. That's… that's H.G. Wells, that's science fiction."

"Oh, man, you're in for an intense trip, then if JARVIS is throwing you." Clint commented beside him. He was cutting his nails with a knife, Bucky's knife actually. "I almost wish I was there to see it. If that didn't involve interacting with Stark."

"Yes, the tech's going to be a shock. But you'll be fine. You have a cybernetic limb. I think you'll adjust quickly enough." Natasha patted his hand quickly and then stood. "Come on, he's here."

"How'd you-"

"Nat has Stark senses. They're tingling." Clint flipped closed the knife and pocketed it.

"I could hear the engine of that ridiculously ostentatious car he drives." Natasha peered out the window and then nodded. "Pull up that hood, Barnes."

Bucky did as instructed, hiding his face and putting the unit's hand in a pocket. Natasha put on that filmy mask which immediately flashed into Stephanie.

"So… Buck, did you ever figure out Natasha's cover name?"

"What?" Bucky looked back at Clint as Stephanie/Natasha led him towards the door.

"Yeah, Stephanie Kay? Ring any bells?"

"Barton. Stop." Natasha grabbed Bucky's arm and pulled him outside before he could respond. There was something there but he couldn't put his finger on it. "Don't worry about it, Barnes. I'll explain it to you when you're ready. Mr. Stark."

"Ms. Kay, fancy seeing you here." Stark had rolled down a window and was beaming out of it, what looked like several hundred dollar sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose. "And the man of the hour, Frozone! Hop in, buddy. Lovin' the hair cut, very James Dean. Let's go get you Rebel Without a Cause ready."

"Uh… what?"

Stark scoffed and shook his head. "Worse than Cap. Alright. Work to do. Don't worry about it, right after your time. Fifties, leather jackets, greasers. We'll get you there." He jerked his head to the side. "Come on. Let's move it or lose it, old man. I don't have time for your geriatric delays."

"Don't trigger him, Stark. I'm not there to protect you." Natasha tapped the roof of the car as Bucky shut the door.

"I think I've got it, Pippi Longstocking. Thanks. I've got high-tech prostheses, too." He winked at Bucky and then waggled his brow at Natasha. "Plus, Terminator and I get along just fine, don't we. Got things in common, life experience, my dad. It'll be super-duper fantastic. Swell." He grinned at Bucky. "That slang old enough for you?"

"Uh… yes?" Bucky got the gist, at least.

"Great, plus, I'm all read up on the PTSD thing, got anxiety… stuff myself. We'll lock that down. Oh, and I've got my enormous green body-guard-slash-massage-therapist if anything goes wonky. You ready to explore the chocolate factory, Charlie?"

"What's happening?" Bucky asked quietly, looking out the window to Natasha for help. She looked at him, her face and body language full of pity.

"The full Stark experience, Buck-o! Buckle in and enjoy the ride!"

Bucky stared out the window at Natasha as she stepped away and then receded quickly into a small point in the distance. He'd definitely made a mistake.

"So? Borne Identity, how were things with Romanoff? She's a slippery, lying ginger, but under all that she's supernova hot, and worth getting to know."

Bucky turned and squinted at Stark. "Do you ever speak in plain English?"

"No." Stark looked over at him from above his glasses. "That would be boring."

"Romanoff and I have a past, one I only half remember. The getting-to-know-her part had to be put off."

Stark clicked his tongue a few times. "Happens to the best of us. Moving on! I was serious about the hair cut. You look about a hundred percent more approachable and less like a really pissed-off hobo. You ready to finish off the look, get your beach ready body in fifteen minutes or less?"

"What?"

"Ah, pop culture reference. You'll get there. You want the arm?"

"Oh. Yes."

"Right. We'll get you the arm, so you can, you know, wear a swim suit on the beach without being self-conscious. Beach-ready body? No? You're hopeless." Stark rolled his eyes as Bucky stared blankly at him.

"Are you sure you're at full cerebral operation? All the cogs turning? Lights on and the owners home? That sort of thing?"

"I know that you're offending me right now."

'Yeah, okay. Just slow on the uptake, but you went to high school, can sense tone. We can start somewhere."

Bucky looked down at his lap. He'd felt a lot of things since he re-found himself. Shame about his intelligence wasn't one of them. "I know about quite a few things, Mr. Stark. They're just actually skills, not how to make wry comments based on popular culture."

Stark was quiet for a few minutes, the first moments of actual silence since they got in the car.

"Alright. The man can joust. Touche." He finally said. "But I'll reign that in, don't want you go-go-gadgeting on me in the car." He glanced over at the unit where Bucky let it sit on his leg. He seemed wary of it. "Hey, you know if that thing's magnetic?"

Bucky slowly turned to face him. "Do not put magnets on the unit."

The question on Stark's face spread slowly into a wide, maniacal smile. "You sure have that 'I'm a villain and menacing' thing down, don't you? Ooo. Gave me the chills. Do it again." He nodded hard. "Do it again, hit me with those dead, icy blues. Oh, Bucky, you're so dreamy when you talk threatening to me."

Stark continued smiling as Bucky stared at him, perplexity growing by the second. Then he batted his eyelashes and Bucky had to turn away. He crossed his arms with an exasperated huff and stared straight ahead.

"Yes, magnets will stick to it."

"Oh, we're going to have fun. Secret messages, it'll be like the Hardy Boys."

"You're insufferable."

"Hey, that's what Cap says! I think it's his way of saying 'I love you, too, Tony.' Maybe it can be your way as well."

That hit Bucky in the stomach like a ton of bricks. Cap. "Captain Rogers?"

"Yup. But I call him Cap, or Capsicle because, let's be honest, 'Captain America' just sounds like bragging. Like, 'yeah, I'm the Captain of an entire nation, the leader of the free world. I'm CAPTAIN AMERICA.' Nonsense."

"It's not nonsense. He saved this country more than you know. Saved your father. And me. It's not bragging, it's just true," Bucky replied sullenly.

"Alright, alright. You're just a ray of sunshine. We need to melt that icy exterior down, Queen Elsa. Find you a sense of humor."

"You weren't there. There are some things that you can't joke about. Unless you don't understand."

"Okay, we're off of it. You know who you'd like? Rhodey. He's about as fun as a stick in the mud. You two'd get along swimmingly."

Incapable of keeping quiet, Stark spent the rest of the drive quizzing Bucky about things from the early twentieth century. A lot Bucky couldn't remember yet, but a few things he did, which Stark got a real kick out of.

"So, the old man tried to demo a flying car?" He cackled loudly. "And that went well, I'm sure."

"It hovered for about four seconds."

"Four seconds, huh? Not bad."

"Then it started smoking and crashed."

Another bubbling cackle. "About right. And the girls? There are always Stark girls."

"Lookers, dancers with top hats and tuxedo tails."

"Nice." He nodded appreciatively and turned the car into a small drive that led them immediately underground. Bucky hadn't seen it until they drove through it. "What about polio? Did you know people with polio?"

"Do you not?" Bucky asked in surprise.

"Nope! Hmm. Polio vaccine must be after your deep freeze. Were you before or after FDR?"

"Franklin Delanore Roosevelt was the President when I went to Europe."

"Right, ugh. History… I never really got around to internalizing it."

Bucky shook his head. A genius like that, actively shaping the world with his technology and he doesn't even know the past of the world he's molding. Seemed irresponsible. "You should really take the time. It's important. History. Should inform the present."

"Man, you are literally the biggest downer I have ever met."

"Can you take anything seriously?"

"There you go again with the Cap echo. You two are really cut from the same cloth." Stark scoffed as he stepped from the car.

"'Is everything a joke to you?' 'Can you take anything seriously?'" Stark put on a series of voices Bucky understood to be unkind impressions of Steve and himself.

"You know what? The world is an ugly, horrible, place full of shit to fuel this eternal flame of cynicism in my gut. So, yeah. I can take things seriously, but I'd rather make it all into a joke, because it's easier to deal with shit when you can laugh at it." He slammed the door of the car and walked away half-fuming. "Come on, Strong Arm."

Bucky sat sizing him up. He was just all talk, like Natasha had said. Ghost number one- disenchantment with the world. Coping mechanism- off-hand humor.

"I apologize, Mr. Stark." He climbed out of the car and gently shut the door.

Stark turned around, his face twisted in confusion. "What?"

"For pushing your buttons. I shouldn't have. You're here to help me."

"You did that on purpose!" Now he just looked impressed.

"I am trained in psy ops as well, sir."

"Ooh, you clever bastard." Stark held out a hand, as if to keep Bucky at a distance. "Oh, I underestimated you. I won't again. Damn. You got all underneath my skin. Phew." He shook his whole body, arms, head and all. "Okay, let's start over."

"If it makes you feel any better, you've already taught me something."

"Mm-hmm, light humor makes the world go round. Yadda yadda, Tony deals with his daddy issues by making a joke of them. Okay. Let's move on."

"What was it exactly that made you so disenchanted with this world?"

Stark furrowed his brows and looked right into Bucky's face. "Like you don't already know. Don't psychologize me, Barnes. This Bucky Barnes' Day Off is for figuring you out, not me."

Bucky shrugged. "I'm just trying to connect. Shared experience is a good start. So I've heard."

"I liked it better when you were the quiet brooding one." Stark said begrudgingly. "Let's have this conversation over some scotch. I've got a bottle that might even be as old as you."

Stark's Tower in New York City was an eyesore, but it was unbelievably luxuriant inside. And the scotch was actually only three years younger than Bucky. It was unbelievable as well.

"So, I was overseas, in the Middle East selling these new missiles. They had extremely advanced targeting systems, could decimate an entire town plus a few stragglers. You know, murder machines. Anyway, after the sale, my Humvee was hit by an ambush, the attackers had my tech and the shrapnel from one of my own missiles blew my ass to kingdom come. Or would have, if it weren't for my vest and a truly great man. Yensin was his name. He operated, removed most of the shrapnel, but I had a few pieces he couldn't get. They were being pumped towards my heart. So, he cut out a chunk of my sternum," Stark looked down at his chest and tapped his breast bone. It rang metallic. "Cut a hole the size of a fist and replaced it with an electromagnet wired up to a car battery. That kept the shrapnel from killing me. It also made me entirely dependent upon tech to survive."

He stood up and meandered over to the decanter, filling up his glass again.

"I survived. Escaped with my own invention, and came home where I wired myself up with the snazziest electromagnet piece I could. My chest piece arc reactor. And I lived that way for a few years. Just recently, I decided to go solo, live independent of my tech. So, I had the best cardiologist I could find cut me open and remove the shrapnel. Now I'm au natural. So, yeah." He nodded towards the unit. "I think we've got some comparable trauma."

He capped the decanter and then motioned to Bucky. "You need a top-off?"

"No, thank you." He swirled the liquor around in his glass. It was very fine scotch, almost too fine for him. The story hit a little close to home, too, but he didn't want to admit it. He could never have what Stark had, have his body back whole. That struck deep.

"Tony!" A woman's voice floated down to them from several rooms away. "Tony! I'm back. JARVIS, where's Tony?"

"In the lounge, Ms. Potts."

Stark shot up to Bucky, muttering quietly but very quickly. "That's Pepper, she doesn't know you're here. I forgot to run it by her first. She'll be fine, but you just gotta play it cool, alright? Cool, Buck-o. Like the Fonz."

"What?"

"It's Happy Days, you cave man!" Stark snapped. "It's like we're speaking different languages. Just… be cool." He whipped around at the sound of clattering heels, "Pepper! You're home!"

"I am, Tony. And so are you, with a guest." She smiled sweetly at Bucky, this tall, strawberry-blonde, wisp of a woman. She looked like a walking statue. "Hi, I'm Pepper Potts. I don't believe we've met."

Bucky stood promptly, as soon as he got over the shock of this woman, and gently clasped her extended hand. "James Barnes, ma'am. Pleased to meet you."

She quirked her head at Stark and then smiled more genuinely at Bucky. "Ma'am? Well. Nice to meet you, James. I'm surprised we haven't been introduced before, though I have to admit I don't think I've heard your name… at least not recently, maybe…" she looked like she was on the point of remembering something but then gave up, "well anyways, let's just say I'm surprised. You see, Tony doesn't have many friends. He doesn't play well with the other kids. So, I tend to know them all already."

"Bucky," Stark coughed behind Pepper. "He usually goes by Bucky."

Her face paled for a second but she recovered quickly, patting his hand and then carefully slipping her own away. "Like I said. It's nice to meet you, James. Tony? Can I speak with you for a second?" Her tone was strained, her lips pursed. She was upset. Clearly, she recognized him finally and was not happy that he was in her home. He couldn't blame her really.

"Just a sec, Ice Man." Stark winked at Bucky and then jogged off behind Ms. Potts. "Pep, Pepper. I'm sorry. I know I should have told you but-" The door sealed and their conversation faded out.

Bucky looked down at the unit, still hidden in his jacket pocket. He'd have put money on that being the reason her face paled, or the reputation that came with it. He hated it. He couldn't have a real life with it or his reputation. Everyone would just creep away from him, never turn their backs on him or take their eyes off of him for a second. It would be miserable, forced and fake. Another life of lies, these to protect his feelings but not much better than the ones protecting him as an asset.

For a short moment, he thought about just ending it. He could do it easily, just rip his heart out with the unit. But then fear rushed through him. He didn't want to stop living. He wanted to stop living like this. No, he needed to tough it out, and get through this. At least, with Stark's help he'd be a little less obviously a monster to hide your children from. And he still had people who didn't shrink away from him, Natasha and Clint had been fearless, dealt with him like a person. Stark seemed to treat him like everyone else, with snark and aplomb. Maybe, eventually, Steve too. Yes, he needed to give this a chance.

He tossed back the rest of the scotch and waited for it to dull some of the pain he felt in what he was coming to recognize as his soul. He was in the middle of contemplating the strange artwork decorating many of Stark's walls when the man himself came strolling back in.

"Okay, Barney, my friend. We're all set. Pepper's mollified. We can head up to the lab now. D'you like the scotch?"

"It was formidable," Bucky replied, setting the glass aside. "What in the world is that?" He pointed to a canvas dappled with splotches and splatters.

"That, that is a Jackson Pollock. Cost me several million dollars. It's a masterpiece."

Bucky snorted. "It looks like a kid come fresh from Coney Island was given some paint and let loose."

"It is a masterpiece, Etch-a-Sketch."

"Mmm. Whatever you say, Mr. Stark." Bucky narrowed his eyes at the painting, trying to see the mastery in it, and failing, walked away.

As he reached the door, he heard a small clank and looked down at where the unit was vibrating slightly. Tony was two feet away looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Oh, that is awesome. Through the jacket."

Bucky growled and pulled the magnet off the unit. It read 'Always as Cold as the Rockies,' it was some kind of advertisement slogan.

"Get it? Cold as the Rockies? Winter Soldier? And it's a fridge magnet... you put it on a freezer, like you were kept in... It's funny."

"I get it. It's not funny." He smashed the magnet in his good hand and then dropped the pieces into Stark's shirt pocket.

"Woo-wee! Super strength, indeed. Smashing." Stark practically giggled as he pulled the pieces out of his pocket, fanning himself. "So sexy, so intense. I love a challenge."