See I can keep to an update schedule haha. Anyway, thank you to anyone reading! I realize that this kind of fic is about 10 years late, but for some odd reason I wasn't interested in the CA movies until Falcon & the WS made me see them in a new light. And Falcon & the WS did Bucky & Sam justice so there's not much I can add. I feel like what we really missed out on is an initial recovery and I keep getting way too many ideas regarding that.

Just want to add that while each chapter is named after a season, it's in the metaphorical sense. They don't actually correspond to the timeline of the story.

Hope you like it!

Lay me by the frozen river

Where the boats have passed me by

All I need is to remember

How it was to feel alive

Chapter 2: Fall (change)

It's March of 2012 and SHIELD finds Captain America's plane.

Clint is the one to tell him in the end, and James doesn't know what he feels, so he lets himself zero in on the secrecy and be angry about that instead.

"Harrington was worried it might trigger you." Clint admits. "And Fury just wanted to handle everything by himself."

"I deserved to know."

"I know, James. So here I am." Clint motions around himself. "Try not to get me fired for it, at least."

James pauses his pacing. "They wouldn't fire you."

"Just a guy with a bow." Clint reminds him, but he's chuckling, and James smiles, and the tension is gone.

Later James goes to Fury. He's composed because the last thing he wants to do is prove them right – or risk Clint's job – and he copies Natasha's signature impassive composure as he tells Fury he wants in on the Captain America case.

Fury looks immensely disappointed, but he sighs and tells James the basics: Yes, they've found the plane; Yes, Steve Rogers was inside; There are signs of life and based on James's own account of being put under ice, they think they can wake Rogers safely.

"Our team is still working on it." Fury says. "In the meantime, we have to think about contingency plans."

"Contingency?" James frowns.

"Captain America is the legend, but we don't know much about the man. Not how the ice affected him, and not how he will react to waking seventy years in the future."

Something about hearing Fury talk about Rogers as an enemy makes James bristle. "He gave his life to stop Hydra."

"And he was able to do so because he's a super soldier. We know how much damage an unhinged super soldier can do."

Fury's pointed stare isn't meant to jab, but James feels his blood run cold all the same. "He's not me."

"Can you tell me that from memory?" Fury sighs. "I'm more than aware of the amnesia, but if you can tell me anything about Steve Rogers, now would be the time."

But he can't. His memories – these jagged pieces that barely fit into a messy picture without making him scream and bleed – are his one guarded secret. He knows Shield won't take them away, he knows it. But it takes a good day to even admit them to himself without feeling the phantom hands strapping him down, pushing a mouthguard between his teeth. "No," He relents unhappily. "I can't tell you anything."

Fury nods like that's the answer he was expecting. "You want in? Then let's talk about contingency plans."

It's April of 2012 and Steve Rogers wakes up from a seventy-year-old sleep.

James doesn't fight Fury's contingency plan, but he does point out a baseball game for them to use. It's not that he remembers the game itself, but something about it tugs at his mind and he just knows. He has to hand it to Shield though, the fake set is pretty impressive.

"You think it will work?" Clint asks as they're waiting for Rogers to be transferred.

"Well, I don't actually remember the forties, so…" He shrugs.

He'd been given a chance to play a part in this little show, the miraculous friend returned from the dead… only in the forties. James told them Rogers would see right through, mostly because he hadn't wanted to admit he felt too fragile and twisted. He's just been starting to adjust to some sort of normalcy and now it's like the world is changing direction right under his feet once again. And it's not that he's not happy Steve Rogers is alive. A part of him still can't believe how incredibly, unbelievably lucky he is, because reliving memories of a best friend who was long dead has been devastating in its own way. But what the hell is he even supposed to say? And what if Rogers takes one look at him and tells them they've made a mistake, that he's not James Buchanan Barnes after all?

Shield brings Rogers's body to the room, an agent clad as a wartime nurse is on standby, and then they wait. He and Clint are on the roof, guarding an exit each. James grips his tranq gun and tries not to think about its weight in his gloved metal arm, or about the man waking up in a new, unfamiliar world a floor below.

'It would be better coming from you', Fury had reluctantly admitted the day before. And James had stared at him and shaken his head without a word. James thinks about that now as the static on his radio clicks and the nurse-clad agent's frantic voice comes out. "All agents, code 13."

"Here we go!" Clint says from the other side of the roof. James doesn't look, but he can imagine him readying a tranq dart. Something about that makes him feel sick.

The door below bursts open, Steve Rogers runs out on James's side of the building.

"I don't see him! Do you see him?" Clint asks.

James watches Rogers through the sight of his gun.

"James?"

Rogers takes one disoriented look around and takes off down the street.

"James!"

"Damn it." James drops the gun and jumps before he can think better of it. He lands heavily on the street, rolling to ease the drop and getting back to his feet all in one motion, those Winter Soldier instincts still strong. He doesn't spare that any thought before he's running after Rogers. There are others in pursuit, Shield agents on foot and in cars, all thanks to Fury's thorough contingency plan.

And then there's James, the anomaly. He slams into Rogers, sending them both sprawling into an alleyway away from the crowds. There's a moment of struggle, Rogers's already active fight or flight response blindly reacting to being knocked down, and James's conditioning bleeding through to fight-threat-fight. They wrestle on the ground, both getting a few kicks in before James comes to his senses just enough to remember this isn't right, and he yells: "Stop! Damn it, stop."

And Rogers wavers before shoving James off. They stagger to their feet and then Rogers takes one look at him and freezes. He's gaping, not even breathing as he whispers a shattered: "Bucky?"

"Who-" James falters, swallows. Who the hell is Bucky?

Rogers takes a step forward, arm raised as if to touch and James holds his breath. Touch is a complicated part of his recovery. On a good day, he can tolerate unexpected touches from certain people – like Clint or Natasha – on a bad one it's all he can do not to go full Winter Soldier on whoever dares stray too close. Now he watches the raised hand and his skin tingles with expectation.

But Rogers stumbles, eyes going wide as he pulls a tranq dart from his shoulder. He falls.

It's still April of 2012 and James doesn't know how to talk to Steve Rogers.

Fury and his cavalry take Rogers's unconscious body back to Shield quarters, opting to put him in a regular room instead of the forties set. James sits through a twenty-minute lecture about recklessness and protocols and then he looks at Fury unblinkingly and asks what he's going to tell Rogers.

"I'll tell him what I have to tell him. Which would have been a whole lot easier if you'd done your job, which you volunteered for, instead of going rogue."

"I had it handled." James bristles. "There was no need to tranq him."

"Oh yeah? You wanna go in there and break it to him then?" Fury pauses. "Didn't think so."

"He should be waking up soon." A real doctor tells Fury, who nods and turns back to James.

"I won't tell him about your… situation. But he's seen you now, so I have to tell him something. Your therapist said this must be your choice, so go ahead and make one."

"I-" James glances between Fury and Clint, who's been watching the exchange in silence. "I'll talk to him." He forces the words out.

"Then you better be on standby. I'll signal you when it's time."

And that's how James finds himself sitting behind the door, listening to Fury break the news to a groggy Rogers.

"You've been asleep Cap, for almost seventy years." Fury's voice drifts through the door.

"I don't understand, how is that possible?" That's Rogers's voice. He says it evenly, but something in James reads wary distrust. He half expects to see Rogers make a run for it again before this conversation is done.

"We're not quite sure on the how, but we know the serum kept you alive under ice. Look, I'm sorry for that little show back there, but we thought it best to break it to you slowly."

"We?" Roger's voice drips with skepticism thick enough even for Fury to catch on.

"SHEILD. You would have known us as the Strategic Scientific Reserve. The world could still use a man like you Cap. There's a place here for you." It's a nicer way of saying 'Sorry you missed out on your life, here's a job though.' James has been on the receiving end of that speech himself, he can personally say it wasn't very reassuring.

Rogers thinks so too if the following moment of silence is anything go by. "Before you drugged me, there was a man…" He says eventually and James shifts, this is the moment he's been dreading.

"Yes, there was." Fury sounds like he's not too happy about the new line of questioning either. "I can get him for you if you'd like."

"I- yes. Please."

There's silence and then the door opens and Fury steps through. He meets James's eyes and nods towards the room. James waits until Fury turns down the hallway before taking a deep breath, tugging at his gloved fingers nervously to check the metal is still concealed and opening the door.

Rogers stands, eyes going wide. "Bucky." He breathes that name again.

"Hi… Steve." He tries sounding casual.

"Oh God," Steve's voice shakes. "are you real?"

"Yes."

"How?" But Steve doesn't wait for an answer. He bounds forward and suddenly James realizes he's going for a hug and he flinches badly, watches confusion followed by hurt settle behind Steve's eyes. "How?" He asks again, more warily.

This is it. He should tell Rogers he's not really his friend. Rip the band-aid off here and now. Somehow that's not what comes out of his mouth. "I was frozen, like you."

Unexpected horror seeps into Steve's face. "The ravine. The fall."

James frowns, he has no memories of that.

"I thought- I should have gone back."

There's guilt being etched into every line of Steve's face and James doesn't understand it, doesn't know what he can say. He doesn't want to tell Steve he can't remember, can't say fragments have come back either, at least not with half of Shield listening. He clears his throat. "I've been working for Shield." He offers. After all, he came here to soothe Rogers's mistrust. That's the mission, and following missions is easy in a way anything else rarely is. "Everything Fury told you is the truth."

Steve blinks. "He said almost seventy years… what year is it now?"

James is happy to finally be asked a question he can answer. "2012. April."

"And you… you were frozen the entire time? When did they find you?"

James skips the first question, hopes Rogers doesn't catch on as he says: "Almost a year ago now."

"We were frozen and found almost at the same time? Now, what were the odds of that?"

The words come without much thought. "Less than angry eye-patch guy offering us the same job as a welcome back."

Steve laughs and James can't help the way his own lips curl in response and a low chuckle startles its way past his throat. It's not exactly a laugh – he hasn't laughed since being taken in by Shield and certainly not during his time with Hydra – but it's something close. And if the unflattering title earns him another one of Fury's lectures, it will be well worth it.

But then Steve reaches out again and all that easy peace is shattered. It's an automatic response to take a step back, but then his back hits the wall and suddenly he's cornered, and he doesn't like it. It's an effort to push away from the wall, swallow the panic before Rogers can catch on.

But Rogers falters anyway. "What's wrong?"

"I-" He was wrong to think he could do this. "I have to go."

"Wait!"

The urgency in Rogers's voice makes James pause with his hand on the door. He meets blue eyes swimming in desperation and hurt and feels like the worst person ever. Here he is, the only familiar face Steve currently has in the world, and he's running away. But he can't stay, he's too wound up now and he can't trust himself not to lash out. "I'm sorry. We can talk later." He promises hoping it can soothe that hurt. And he leaves.

It's still April of 2012 and James learns about Bucky.

It's been a full week since Rogers woke up and Shield does its best to begin acclimating him: they've provided an apartment even though Steve barely sleeps, a therapist he refuses to see, and a neighbor who isn't actually a nurse. James knows all this because Clint keeps passing on updates that James pointedly doesn't ask for. He's also told Steve keeps asking for him. Repeatedly.

"You're torturing him, man. If you're not going to be in his life, then just tell him that." Clint tells him one day.

Clint is right of course, but the thought makes James's heart sink. And yet - "I'm not who he thinks I am." He thinks about that name Rogers keeps calling him: BuckBuckyBucky. He's come to accept James, but Bucky is someone else entirely.

"So what?" Clint shrugs. "He's probably not the guy you think he is either. You don't have to remember just to talk to him."

"Even if I did remember," It's the closest he's come to admitting his returning memories out loud. "what difference would it make? It wouldn't change what I am."

"Who you are, James." Clint corrects him. "And are you saying you remember something?"

"It's a hypothetical." James murmurs, looking away.

Clint hums. "I can't tell you what to do, but I saw the way you reacted when you first heard his name. You can't tell me there's nothing there."

Clint gives him Rogers's address, but James knows Fury will have the apartment bugged, has removed eight bugs from his own Shield-issued apartment so far. So he spends the next four days watching Rogers from afar. He learns Rogers's habits and yeah, Clint's updates have been more or less accurate. Rogers doesn't go out unless it's to the grocery store across the street, he smiles at his fake neighbor – damn Fury and his contingency plans – but doesn't accept her requests to go out. But one thing Shield has managed to miss is that every night Rogers goes to the gym three streets down, breaks in and spends hours punching through bags instead of sleeping. The gym is small and doesn't belong to Shield, and a quick sweep tells James it's not currently bugged. If he's going to talk to Rogers, that's his chance.

On the evening of the fifth day of watching Rogers, James sneaks into the gym first. Rogers follows at 2 AM and he goes straight to the punching bags.

"You really should sleep." James steps out of the shadows.

Rogers's shoulders tense, but then he's turning around with awe like he still can't quite believe it. "Bucky."

There's that name again. James can't decide how he feels about it. Steve makes an aborted motion forward and James frowns – they must have told him something – and breaches some of the distance between them himself. "What did they tell you?"

"Not much." Rogers says slowly. "They told me you were captured by Hydra," There's anger in his eyes, but they turn pained as he continues. "and that you don't remember the past… is that true?"

James shrugs noncommittally. "I know who you are."

"Do you?"

"You're Steve Rogers, Captain America. First met on the playground of Brooklyn. Little did he know that he was forging a bond that would take him to the battlefield of Europe and beyond." He recites, then, at Steve's confused expression, adds: "You really should visit the Smithsonian museum."

'Museum', Rogers mouths and then swallows heavily. When he speaks his voice is all choked up and wrong. "Is it any good?"

"Well, I think they hero worship you."

Rogers shakes his head. "I never wanted that. I was just doing what was right."

"They have a lot of your things too. You might want to look into getting those back." It's a weak attempt to lift the mood.

"Like what?"

"Sketchbooks, photos, a motorcycle." He lists. "Although you should probably leave that last one where it is."

"Probably." Rogers chuckles softly, but then his face falls again. "You really don't remember anything?"

"I-" He doesn't know what to say.

"You're my best friend, Buck. You've known me your whole life…"

James's expression darkens. "I'm not him."

"That-" Rogers's- Steve's expression just about breaks. "that's okay."

But James can tell that it's not. "I'm sorry." He says because more than anything he wishes he could be that person Steve is searching for in him.

"No." Steve's voice comes out hard. "You have nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who let you fall. I could've gone back, or- or jumped after you. I could've done something but instead, I went to wallow in a bar. I'm sorry."

"I can't remember what you're talking about." James admits apologetically. "But I don't think whatever happened could've been your fault."

"I should have protected you."

"That wasn't your job-"

"It wasn't yours either, but you protected me!" Steve breathes and his voice softens. "I know you don't remember, but you were there for me when I had no one else."

Steve looks so miserable then, so fucking broken, like that stubborn righteous fury has finally been beaten out of him, and James can't stand it. "Like when you were sick, and I stayed up all night making sure you could breathe?"

Steve's eyes widen with surprise "You… can't read that in a museum." His voice wavers between a question and a statement.

"I do remember some things." He admits slowly, and it's hard, but something about it being Steve makes it bearable.

"But Fury said-"

"I didn't tell Fury." James cuts him off. Now that it's out in the open, the words spill out. "For a long time I thought any memories were gone, and then they told me about you and things started coming back, but-" He taps his head self-deprecatingly. "it's all messed up. Just bits and pieces that make no real sense. And I can't even think about it half the time, because-"

Steve's expression is awe and growing horror, like he can't quite decide which extreme to settle on. After a moment of silence, when it becomes apparent James won't continue, he whispers: "Because what?"

James shakes his head, hard eyes staring at the ground. He can't.

"What did they do to you, Buck?"

Maybe it's because he's so frayed, but the name makes him flinch. "You keep calling me that." His voice has lost all traces of emotion and he knows it's a warning sign. He needs to get himself home before he shuts down here, where so much can go wrong if the numbness allows the Winter Soldier to resurface.

He can't bring himself to leave yet.

"I'm sorry." Rogers's voice cracks. "What should I call you?"

"They call me James."

"Okay." Rogers nods. "Okay, James." Rogers's voice curls around the name like a foreign language, but he doesn't hesitate to use it and his expression is open and fractured.

James thinks wrong, wrong, wrong. "You-" He clears the sudden lump in his throat. "you can call me Bucky, if you want."

And Rogers- Steve, Steve beams like he's just been offered the world. And James feels everything but numb then and his own tension seems to bleed away.

"Okay, Buck." Steve breathes.

James leaves shortly after because he's not numb but he suddenly feels too much. But he promises Steve to talk to him again soon, and this time he means it. He thinks, James Buchanan Barnes had a friend, but maybe James could have that friend too.

We're moving into longer scenes now. Next up: more Steve and Bucky bonding (yay) and things go very wrong.

As I mentioned before I won't have access to a laptop until Tuesday, so I'm aiming to post the next update then, but it might be Wednesday if I'm too tired.