Steve woke up some time around three in the morning and, eventually having to reluctantly acknowledge that he wasn't falling back asleep, he grabbed his gym bag and headed out. Of course there was a gym installed in the tower, but he took his motorcycle and drove the forty-five minutes to the CIA complex where Bucky was staying. He wanted to spend as much time around it as possible, mostly for his own peace of mind. He was not going to leave Bucky there and wash his hands of it. He wanted to keep an eye on things and be ready to act should Sharon's trust in these people prove misplaced.

When he entered the gym, he was startled to see that it was not empty. Bucky was there, running on the treadmill. As soon as he heard the door open, Bucky slammed the off button and whirled around, but the tension went out of his shoulders as soon as he saw Steve. That at least was a good sign.

"Couldn't sleep?" asked Steve, dropping his bag on a bench along the wall.

"A couple of hours," said Bucky, shrugging.

Steve smiled wryly. "Me too. I guess we've both slept enough for a couple of lifetimes."

Bucky blinked and then nodded. "Yeah. I guess we have…I'm sorry."

"What about?"

"I know what happened to you. The crash…the ice…"

"Oh. Yeah. I guess we've both missed out on a lot, huh?" Steve approached the punching bag and gave it a whack.

Bucky turned on the machine and started running again. "Do you ever…just out of nowhere feel that cold again?"

Steve punched the bag. Hard. "Sometimes. I can be sweltering in the heat and suddenly, I feel it."

"In your bones."

The thud of fist on bag melded into the thud of Bucky's feet.

"You know," said Steve, between swings. "I don't actually remember being out, but at the same time, when I try, I almost think I can remember it. Freezing for what felt like an eternity."

"And sometimes you wonder why you try? But you do anyways."

They continued on for several minutes in silence.

"I know there are a lot of advancements now," said Steve after a while. "The things science has done, not to mention the level of social progress. But still. There are times I can't help but feel we lost a lot too. I don't mean the personal things. I mean-"

"I know," said Bucky. "I guess you can't have progress without loss, order without pain-" He tripped, but recovered himself. He knew that was a favorite axiom of HYDRA's and he hated himself for having just said it. It seemed he couldn't get them out of his head on several levels. He glanced at Steve, worried what he'd say, but if Steve had noticed anything he didn't say it.

"It was a simpler time," Steve was saying. "Which is crazy because we were in the middle of a world war."

"At least we won that fight," said Bucky, "because it sure feels like we lost a lot of them."

Steve sped up his punches, Bucky ran faster.

Suddenly Steve chuckled. "Do you remember Mr. Riley?"

Bucky jogged on in silence for a few moments, straining his memory. The name faintly ringed a bell…suddenly it hit. "From the drug store?"

"Yes. Always talking about how much better things were in his day. Seems to me Buck, you and are starting to sound like old men."

"Well, we are getting on in years."

"And looking pretty good for our age, if I say so myself."

Bucky chuckled. "Sharon clearly thinks so."

Steve missed his mark and swung into nothing. "What?" He turned to look at Bucky.

"Oh come on. I may have been focused on other issues, but you'd have to blind not to see the looks she keeps shooting at you."

"You haven't been conferring with Natasha have you?"

There was a pause as Bucky tried to figure out who he was referring to. "Romanoff? No!"

"Just wondered. She's been trying to set me up for a while now."

Bucky laughed out loud. It was the first true, real, completely good-natured laugh that Steve had heard from him since the war and it made him grin to hear.

"I'm sorry," said Bucky, "but the idea of the Black Widow taking an interest in your love life is just hilarious."

"I'm surprised she hasn't tried to enlist your help yet. She probably will though."

Bucky's laughter died. "I doubt I'd be her first choice."

Steve started hitting the bag again. "She told me about you shooting her. She understands it wasn't you."

Bucky was silent. Nothing was said for another couple of minutes.

"Have…have they started yet?" asked Steve. "Working with you? Trying to help you? I know it's only been two days."

Bucky shrugged, turning up the speed on the treadmill. "Your Sharon," he smiled a little slyly at Steve, "and a couple of others have decided it's be best to wait on the deprogramming until I've had some sessions with their therapists."

"That's probably a good idea."

Bucky snorted dryly. "I'm far past the point where it's going to do any good."

"You don't know that."

"Steve, what I have on my hands, no amount of talking is ever going to wipe clean."

"It wasn't-"

"Don't say it wasn't me!" snapped Bucky. "I remember it Steve. I remember pulling the triggers, snapping the necks, strangling them. I remember the looks in their eyes, and I know it was me. I get it Steve. I do. You want to save me. But you can't. I didn't come to you to be saved, because it's just not possible. I came to you because I want HYDRA out. I need HYDRA out. And as long they still have the power to control me, I'm still a risk. I can't change the past but I sure as hell can change the future." He slammed down on the speed button, and ran even faster, signaling the end of the conversation. Steve hit the bag harder, and the two continued in silence for another hour.