Over the next few days, he reads through the rest of the file Hydra had left Steve. He doesn't do it all at once, because he doubts he could have handled that, but he does read it, because he doesn't feel comfortable not knowing the full extent of what Hydra had used him for.
It's hard. He gives the folder back to Steve afterwards, because he hates even looking at it, and it makes him sick to think about it, but he forces himself to finish it.
He'd… killed a lot of people. Some of them enemies of Hydra, some of them to promote terror, some of them to slow progress, some of them as a symbol, and some of them as a threat.
He had failed a few of the missions, near the beginning, but most of them he hadn't.
He remembers more of them, now that he's read about them, and he writes in his journal a lot to help process them. He also finds himself using the BARF tech more, for some of the particularly difficult memories, and Steve stays near him, offering quiet support through dinners and movies. Sam's app and the tools it gives is helpful too, and after a while, some of the breathing and mental exercises almost become second nature to him.
It doesn't exactly mean that reading about his missions is easy of course, but he does come to a conclusion.
I'm tired of killing people.
It's a simple thought, but an important one. He's spent a lifetime killing people, first for his country, and then for Hydra. And while it might have been his choice to follow Steve during the war, joining the war had never been up to him, and Hydra had taken away whatever agency he had had left when they had captured him.
He explains this to Steve a few days after he'd finished the last of the file, his shoulders slumped in a tired line. "I've been fighting for a long time," he says, the two of them in his room this time while he makes lunch for them. He looks up from where he's stirring the cheese sauce for his macaroni casserole and glances over to where Steve is sitting at the island. "I know the Avengers aren't like Hydra, and I wouldn't be sent to kill kids or anything but…"
He looks down for a moment and stirs his sauce again. "I think… I'm tired of fighting. Maybe hunting Hydra would be cathartic, but…" He shrugs his shoulders. "I want to have the chance to do something else. I don't know if I'll ever be able to stop if I try going after Hydra now."
Back at the island, Steve nods. "I know what you mean," he says quietly. "I mean, I know I'm not good at staying out of fights just in general, but… you know, when I joined the army, I wasn't intending to be a soldier forever." He gives Bucky a half-smile and shrugs. "Got kind of wrapped up in it though."
Bucky squints at him slightly, remembering the last time they had talked about this. It's different for you though, Steve had said when talking about Bucky's many options, implying that Steve didn't have the same options.
"If you don't want to join the Avengers right now, that's fine," Steve continues, oblivious to Bucky's internal musings. "I'm sure between all of us and JARVIS, we can figure out something for you to do."
Bucky turns back to his sauce and taste tests it. "And what about you?" he asks, glancing over his shoulder at Steve. "Do you want to stay with the Avengers forever?"
Steve blinks at him, as if the idea hadn't occurred to him before. "I guess," he says after a moment. "I mean, we're doing good work, and I don't think I could stand leaving Hydra out there." His eyes glance down for a moment and he traces his fingers over the countertop. "I don't know. We're kind of like— they're the closest thing I have to family here, besides you…" He trails off for a moment, looking thoughtful. "But I guess, I don't want to fight forever either. Maybe one day I can take a break."
Bucky privately thinks that the world will probably have a hard time letting go of Captain America, but he resolves internally to do whatever he can to ensure that Steve can step back if he ever wants to. Steve should have that option too.
"Well," he says, in an effort to move on from the subject. "I guess I'm the same except the other way around. I don't want to fight yet, but I don't think I'd want to sit out if something major went down. If you have to fight aliens again or something, then I'll probably step in."
Steve huffs out a breath and shakes his head. "Man," he says. "If we need a world disaster to get you to fight, lets hope you never come out of retirement."
oOo
Deciding to stay off the Avengers' team for now is at least a concrete decision, but now he's faced with an entirely new problem. What to do now.
"Well, what do you like to do?" Natasha asks during their weekly sparring session. So far he's decided to keep these up, along with the rest of his training, because just because he's not going into combat right now doesn't mean he wants to dull his skills. Besides that, he finds sparring with Natasha both mentally and physically engaging, even if he does leave with a few bruises sometimes.
"I don't know," he says, ducking a high roundhouse kick and moving down to try to sweep her leg. Natasha dances away and he follows her across the mat. "I don't have a lot of stuff I can do besides fighting."
Natasha huffs at him and darts in with a three-punch combo. "Well, first of all, no one said you can't use that. You can still use your skills to help us plan our missions, you know. You don't have to be completely cut off from everything." He blocks her punches, but finds her trying to use his momentum to get behind him. "And second," she grunts as he spins and tries to elbow her side. "You do have stuff you can do besides fighting. Pick something and try it. You can't pick wrong."
He pants out a breath and manages to shift his weight forward, grabbing her wrist as he kicks his leg out, sweeping her own out from under her. "Pretty sure I'm lacking in work experience—" As she falls, Natasha manages to twist her legs up around his arm and pull him into a throw, both their backs hitting the mat at the same time.
"No one said you can't go to school," Natasha shoots back, her chest heaving up and down as she breathes. "You can enroll in individual classes or something. Figure out what you like."
I guess I do have the money for that now, Bucky thinks as he rolls over and stands up. His metal arm whines as he reaches down to offer Natasha a hand and he suppresses a sigh.
"Tony still working on your arm?" Natasha asks him as they turn to head towards the gym showers.
He rolls his shoulder to settle it and runs a hand through his hair. "Yeah," he says. "I'm going to see him tomorrow."
He's less nervous than he used to be as he heads down to the lab, his hands shoved in his pockets as he waits for JARVIS to stop the elevator. It probably helps that today he knows that Tony mostly wants his input on arm designs, rather than some kind of examination.
He's greeted by the usual squeal of excited tires as he enters the lab, and he's waylaid for several minutes as he pats and coos over DUM-E and U. "Hey, you're squeaky today too," he notes as he runs his hand over DUM-E, the robot's claw letting out a high pitched creak as it moves.
He hears a sigh from across the room and he looks up to see Tony sitting at a table a few feet away. "Yeah," he says, standing up and stretching out his back. "They're due for some maintenance soon. Can't have them wearing out, now can we?"
DUM-E lets out a low whine and Bucky raises an eyebrow at him. "I'm sure maintenance will be fine," he tells the robot, giving him one final pat before extracting himself and stepping over to where Tony is waiting.
Tony huffs and rolls his eyes. "Oh, they're always babies about it," he says, a note of fondness creeping into his voice. "But I'll deal with that later. Come take a look at what I've been working on." He turns and motions for Bucky to follow him over to a hologram display, waving his hand to remove the previous images of the same building he'd been working on before.
"What's that?" Bucky asks, watching as the Avengers' logo flickers out and gets replaced with several 3D variations of his metal arm.
"Oh, just another project." Tony shrugs. "I can't seem to only work on one thing at a time. It's not ready yet though." He leans towards the hologram display. "These are looking pretty good though. What do you think?"
Bucky glances over the screen, the various designs rotating slowly to show the full arm. "There's so many of them," he comments. He supposes he shouldn't be surprised, but he does wonder what he's getting himself into.
Tony grins at him and clicks on the first blueprint, the arm expanding to fill the screen. "I got inspired," he says. "I figured I'd let you choose which one you like best."
And with that he goes off, chatting away as he begins to explain the intricacies of the designs he'd made. "Hydra worked on connecting your prosthetic to your nervous system," he says, moving his hands to partially deconstruct his model. "It allows you greater control over it, but as for how it's attached…"
He shakes his head. "We'll have to do better. Hopefully these arms will put less strain on your body. Although, of course, I also had to come up with a material to use, something light but durable, also, I was thinking, if you can feel pressure, than maybe we could work on feeling other things…"
Bucky finds himself relaxing as Tony talks. His experience with his arm and Hydra had been anything but a good one, but this time he is actually involved in the process, and is aware that it is happening. He doubts Hydra had consulted him much last time.
"So how does it actually work?" he asks, after a while of Tony sharing the pros and cons of different arms and materials. The engineer turns to him and his eyes light up.
"Well," he starts, and Bucky sits back with a grin. He might not know much about engineering, but he'd single-handily learned everything he knows about Tony's cars, he's willing to try to learn about what's going to be attached to his body.
So he stays and listens as Tony explains to him about robotic neuroprosthetic systems, and electric currents, and programming, and power sources, and biomechanics. "So, am I like one of your robots now?" he teases once Tony finishes. The engineer blinks at him and lets out a laugh.
"I suppose," he says. "You come for maintenance and updates." He snaps his fingers. "That reminds me." He turns to the two robots waiting at the other end of the lab. "Alright, com'on you two," he calls, cupping his hands around his mouth. "We don't want you rusting up, now do we?"
DUM-E and U manage to look begrudging as they come over and Tony huffs at them, placing his hands on his hips as he looks them over. Bucky laughs softly at their antics and reaches out to pat DUM-E's claw.
"It'll feel better once it's over," he tells him, although he's not sure how much DUM-E can actually feel, if at all. His words have an effect though, the robot giving a happy whirl before trying to drape his squeaky claw arm over his shoulders.
Bucky grunts and has to duck away to avoid a bloody nose and Tony chuckles as he steps away, coming back a moment later with a box of tools, some lubricant and a rag. "Looks like they've already adopted you," he says, setting down his supplies and crouching in front of them. "Hey, can you pass me that wrench over there?"
He points, and Bucky looks over to where a silver wrench is sitting on the table a few feet away. He grabs it and hands it over, watching as Tony comes to kneel down by U, his eyes focused as he scans the robot's wheels, his fingers feeling over the axles with care.
"So…" Bucky starts, his hand coming to rest on DUM-E's claw. "What does maintenance actually entail?"
That sets Tony off again, and Bucky finds himself getting a crash course in robotics. "After they're built it's pretty simple," Tony informs him after explaining their basic construction and programming. "But grime is their main problem. Here, this is a tricky spot. Can you grab…"
And he finds himself helping Tony, holding tools and holding things steady and wiping things down and thoroughly enjoying himself as Tony continues to chat. "Of course they behave for you," the man mumbles as he checks over DUM-E's control panel. "They always make a fuss for me."
Bucky's mouth quirks up and he leans over to stage-whisper in U's direction. "Don't worry," he says. "I hate maintenance too." That seems to vastly amuse the bots and Tony mumbles good-naturedly at them.
"Just hold still while I plug you in, DUM-E— updates are good for your system. You don't want bugs do you?" He steps back and wipes his forehead once DUM-E and U are plugged into his system so JARVIS can begin updating the two. "Good news for you," he says, turning to Bucky. "Your new arm should require less maintenance. I tried to make it so that you can take care of most of it."
Bucky smiles. "That's great," he says. "Thanks."
As usual, Tony waves off his gratitude. "Yeah well, you sat here and listened to me all afternoon, so I guess we're even."
Bucky blinks. "I didn't mind," he says. "It's interesting."
It is interesting. He can't stop thinking of that as he chooses his favourite design and gives Tony the go-ahead on actually creating the thing. He had enjoyed learning about what Tony had been talking about, and he'd liked helping him with DUM-E and U. He likes that kind of work.
The thought sends him back down to the garage, the glove Tony had given him over his hand as he surveys the collection of cars. Tony's cars don't actually need that much work done on them. They get driven rarely enough, and he'd worked on them periodically, so they don't really need maintenance… but he likes working on them. He likes going through the motions and learning how they tick, he likes keeping them in working order.
It's kind of like my weapons, he realises as he begins to make his way over to the first car in the row, a light blue Jaguar XK. He hadn't thought about it for a while, but even as the Asset, he'd enjoyed it the last time he'd gone through his weapons to maintain them. Working on cars is similar, rhythmic routines, simple quests to figure out problems – fixable problems. That is probably the nicest part, even the worst car is technically fixable.
When Tony had first given him access to the garage and his cars, he'd seen it as some sort of strange training regiment for the Asset. But now he can see that Tony had just been trying to help him do something that he likes.
And… he does like fixing cars, doesn't he? That had been something he'd figured out all by himself thanks to a flashback. Steve had given him car repairs magazines for his birthday and he'd said: I know you'd rather be doing that then working at the docks, but I figured you could still read about it.
What are 'the docks'? he wonders as he lifts the hood of the Jaguar and locks it in place, peering inside. Apparently he'd worked at 'the docks' instead of with cars, but he isn't exactly sure what that means. Had the book from the library mentioned anything about it? It probably had, but he'd probably missed it thanks to the influx of other information it had given him.
I'll have to ask Steve, he thinks, because it had been long enough now that he'd had to return the library book, and he's not about to wait until his next trip to the library to find out the mystery behind his past-life's job.
oOo
He runs into Steve in the common room, the two of them sitting around with the other Avengers while they wait for supper. Apparently Tony had found a new restaurant and needed to share his discovery with the rest of them. It's as good a time as any to ask Steve while they wait for the food to arrive, so he settles next to him on the couch and nudges his foot to get his attention.
Steve glances up at him from his phone and Bucky shifts to cross his knee over his leg. "Do you know what 'the docks' are?" he asks – internally surprised at his lack of nervousness. He hasn't directly asked Steve about past memories very often, but, he reasons, he doesn't really have a lot of reason to be nervous. It's completely natural for someone in his situation to have questions. "I have a memory saying I worked there," he continues. "But I don't know what it means."
Steve blinks for a moment before smiling, putting down his phone. "I guess that'd be kind of confusing," he says, sitting back. "You did work at the docks, there was a shipping dock near where we lived. You unloaded boats and crates and things. It was hard work though, heavy labour."
"Ah." Bucky nods, he can remember now the paragraph in the library book about the work he'd done while he'd been living with Steve. "That makes sense." He gets the impression – although he's not sure if this is from a half-remembered memory, from Steve, or from the book – that he'd taken whatever job he could back then, in order to support the two of them.
If that's true, then I really do have more options now, he thinks, as the elevator dings open and a food courier comes in with their order. Back before the war he'd worked hard jobs because he'd needed to. Now… he can choose to work at what he wants.
It's Clint's comment during supper that causes all thoughts of work and his own interests to temporary fly out of his head. "Have you guys started counting down the days till Christmas yet?" he asks, digging into his bowl of butter chicken. "December's almost here."
Bucky stills, and he can feel his eyes widen as he realises that something else – besides Christmas – is coming soon. Hannah's birthday, he thinks, the date flashing in his mind. December 2nd. A sense of urgency rushes through him, not quite panic, but a deep intense desire to properly address Hannah's birthday.
He hasn't celebrated a birthday as himself before, that he can really remember. He'd been there for Steve's birthday, but he hadn't really had to plan that one, and he'd had help in getting a present for him. He has no idea what to get Hannah.
oOo
After he remembers the approaching anniversary, he calls Hannah and makes plans to visit her on the day, but that only adds to the level of urgency he has at finding her a gift. He finds himself in Steve's room, sitting at his counter with his head buried in his arms, trying to think of something.
"I don't even know what she likes," he mumbles. "And even if I did, it's been seventy years, I have no idea what to get her now." He sits up abruptly, catching Steve's eye in the kitchen. "And Christmas is coming. I have to find a present for that too. And what about the Avengers? I haven't gotten people gifts before."
Steve chuckles softly and Bucky scowls at him. This is not a laughing matter. "Well," Steve says, moving to sit across from him. "You seemed to do pretty well for my birthday."
Bucky's scowl deepens. "I'd been living with you for two months at that point," he points out. "And I had the Avengers to help me."
Steve still looks far too amused for the gravity of the situation. "Well," he says again. "You don't have to worry too much about presents for all of the Avengers. I think this year we're doing a Secret Santa sort of thing. You only have to get a present for one person."
Bucky huffs and lays his chin back on his arms. "I still have to get Hannah two presents," he mumbles. "I can't even draw her something like you could. I don't know how to make things, so I can't do something personal like that."
Steve gets a thoughtful look on his face and Bucky perks up slightly. "I wonder…" Steve starts slowly, his eyes going distant. After a moment he smiles. "I have an idea," he says with a grin.
Steve's idea is perfect, and he helps him a little with the project, but for the most part Bucky takes pride in doing most of it on his own. The plan works for a good birthday gift, but he's still left with a missing Christmas present.
It isn't until he's wrapping Hannah's scarf around his neck as he gets ready to go to the library with Bruce that he gets a flash of inspiration.
What's your favourite colour? he texts Hannah when he gets back. It feels a little strange asking her, because he sort of wishes that he already knew, but she doesn't seem to mind answering that her favourite colour is yellow. He smiles down at the information and then glances back at his scarf. He might not be able to knit like Hannah can, but he's sure he can find something appropriate between now and then.
The hunt for the perfect scarf begins and he searches for it in between working on his other project, his excitement growing as December approaches. Natasha introduces him to a few artisan shops near the Tower, and JARVIS helps him find several sites online to look through.
He hadn't realised how many options there are for scarves before, and also how expensive they can be. Some of the scarfs he sees cost hundreds of dollars. Steve tells him that that is expensive even for modern-day prices, so he narrows his search down to a more reasonable price.
There is still a wide variety to choose from though. He discards linen scarfs and other lighter fabrics. He wants a knitted scarf, a warm one, like the one Hannah had given him. There seems to be a lot of 'infinity' scarfs for sale, which aren't quite right either, and he searches for quite a while for a proper long scarf in an appealing shade of yellow (why is mustard yellow so popular?)
He eventually finds one though, a 'Super soft cozy over sized knit yellow fade scarf' in an online store. It's a tighter knit than the one Hannah had made him, but he really likes how the yellow starts out bright in the middle and fades out towards the edges. It's elegant and warm looking and he can't help feeling a little proud as he places his order.
He has officially just bought his first present for someone.
He very quickly has to figure out how to do it again because a day or two before he goes to see Hannah for her birthday, the Avengers hand out gift assignments.
"Okay," Tony says to them as they gather together in the common room, a plastic container holding several slips of paper in his hand. "So, in the effort to keep things simple, and also because Clint has mysterious Christmas plans–" He shoots a glance at Clint, who offers them a sheepish smile. "We've decided that everyone will be assigned one person to shop for." He lifts the container. "Everyone's name is in here. You can keep your person secret or not, but have your gift ready a week before Christmas, because, again, Clint has mysterious plans away from the Tower."
Both Clint and Natasha roll their eyes at Tony's antics, and the man moves around the ring of couches, holding out the container so that each of them can pick a name. "Is there a price limit?" Sam asks as he pulls out his paper and unfolds it.
"Yes," Steve says before Tony can say anything. "There is, or else Tony will go overboard." Tony scoffs but doesn't protest. "Try not to get something over fifty dollars."
Sam nods and Tony mumbles something quietly under his breath as he moves on to hold the bucket out for Bucky. There are only a few slips left and Bucky reaches for one, pulling it out and unfolding it so that no one can see.
Bruce, it reads, and he blinks in surprise. For some reason he'd been expecting to somehow get Steve. He hadn't really thought about what to get for anyone else. He very carefully does not glance at anyone while he puts his paper away – so as to not give away his assignment – and he mulls it over in his head.
He isn't sure what to get Bruce yet, but at least he has about a month to figure it out.
oOo
Hannah's birthday comes much quicker though, and he very carefully wraps his project in preparation for his trip upstate to see her. Steve is driving him again, since although he probably could have driven himself, he still technically doesn't have a licence yet.
"We can probably get you one though," Steve tells him as they drive up. "SHIELD helped me get mine when I woke up. I had to brush up on the traffic laws and stuff, but it wasn't too hard."
Bucky nods, ducking his chin into his scarf and fiddling slightly with the binders on his lap. He's returning the ones Hannah had lent him, and on top of the pile sits a flat, wrapped package. "What did you get for Hannah?" he asks Steve, glancing down at the second, round looking package between their seats.
Steve offers him a sly grin and keeps his eyes on the road. "You'll just have to wait and see," he says.
Bucky huffs at him.
Now that he knows that Hannah's favourite colour is yellow, he can't help wondering if she had specifically painted her house that colour, or if she had bought it that way. He smiles at the idea as he and Steve park the car and get out, their respective presents in their hands.
It's a chilly day, but someone has shovelled the sidewalk leading up to Hannah's door, and he wonders who it could have been, since he doubts it was Hannah with her cane. She is leaning on said cane when she opens the door for them, her face lighting up in a smile as she greets them.
"You're wearing the scarf!" she says happily, her eyes sparkling as she glances over him.
Bucky raises his chin. "Of course," he says, as though the idea of not doing so would be sacrilegious. "It's warm."
Hannah laughs softly at that and steps back to let them in, the warmth of her house welcome after the chill from outside. There is a tree up in the corner of her living room now, a small one, covered in various decorative and homemade ornaments.
"Kimberly – that's Noah's daughter – she came 'round with her children the other day to help me set this up," Hannah tells them proudly. "She's got two girls, you know. Eight and ten I believe."
Bucky sits down next to Steve on the couch and nods at the news of his great-great-nieces. "Do they visit often?" he asks.
Hannah takes a seat in the armchair by the window and sets her cane aside. "Often enough," she says. "Noah used to come by more often, but you know, he's getting on in years."
Bucky nods again, although it still feels strange that his nephew, and even his great-nephew and niece have lived almost an entire lifetime by now. His nephew has a daughter, who also has daughters, and they are ten years old.
"Scott called to tell me he's coming over later this week," Hannah tells him, drawing his attention back to her. "He's Noah's boy. He doesn't have any children. But I had to put up his favourite ornament, since he's coming over."
That comment sparks a conversation over the history and backstory of all the ornaments on Hannah's tree, and it turns out that she even has a few still from when they were children. "We didn't have a lot of fancy ornaments back then," she says. "But you see that little wooden star hanging on that branch there?" Bucky looks and sees a small, polished star hanging from one of the branches. "That was the first present I ever bought myself to give Ma," Hannah tells them proudly. "She kept it all the way until she died."
Steve smiles softly at that. "Well," he says, shifting his gift in his hands. "Bucky has your binders to return, and we have some presents for you."
Hannah brightens and directs Bucky where to replace the binders he had borrowed (as well as a few others he can take with him again) before turning to Steve with his present. It's round, but flat on the bottom, and when Hannah carefully unwraps the wrapping paper, it reveals a round metal tin. She gives Steve a curious glance before reaching down and lifting the lid.
"Oh!" she gasps in surprise, a smile growing on her lips. "They're no-bake cookies! I haven't had these in years!"
Steve lets out a delighted laugh at her reaction and shoots Bucky a smile. "Ma used to make them every year," he says. "Hannah would sneak them all the time. Luckily for her, Ma passed down the recipe to me."
Steve looks immensely proud of himself and Bucky can't help smiling as Hannah passes the tin around for them each to have one. "Nothing I've had can compare to Ma Rogers' no-bake cookies," she says before giving Steve a look. "I fully expect another batch at Christmas, you have seventy years to make up for."
Steve doesn't seem to mind that stipulation and Bucky finishes off his cookie (Steve is definitely going to have to make more of them) before shyly walking over to hand Hannah her present. He retreats back to his seat as she lays the flat package on her lap and he watches anxiously as she begins to unwrap it.
He can see the moment she realises what it is, her hands stilling as her eyes widen and she stares at the book in her lap. "I thought…" He clears his throat. "I thought, you have so many pictures and binders about our family, but— well, Steve helped me with the idea, but I thought, if you wanted pictures of me now…"
He trails off and watches in silence as Hannah reverently opens the book. It's a photo album, like the ones in her collection, except this one is filled with pictures she doesn't have. The first few pages of the book have photos of him from the war, copied pictures from Steve of him with the Howling Commandos or out in the field, but after that the pictures take on colour, and they show him in the Tower.
He hadn't exactly had a lot of pictures of himself, but JARVIS had helped out, finding still-footage of him from the security cameras and printing them out for him to use. They are simple things, pictures of him with Tony's bots, or cooking with Sam, watching a movie or working on cars, but they are moments of his life that Hannah had never gotten to see.
He'd done his best to label them like she had with her albums, little notes such as 'The first time I ate a strawberry', or 'Figuring out a laptop with Steve', and he watches as Hannah flips through some of the pages, her eyes darting over the contents.
A tear slips down her face as she reads, and Bucky sits up in concern, wondering if his present had been way off the mark— but she looks up at him and smiles, her eyes as bright as ever.
"Thank you," she says softly. "This— thank you."
AN: So, Bucky made his choice about fighting. I felt that even if he wanted to fight, he needs some time to figure out himself first. Going back into fighting immediately would keep him from rediscovering anything else. Thankfully, he seems to be having help on that front.
And then, of course, time continues, and Christmas is coming! What did you think of his present for Hannah, and also his secret Santa assignment?
