I'm sorry for being a day late. I was on a trip and felt too tired to edit the chapter once I got back. Also Eurovision has been taking up my attention, anyone here watches that?

'Silent days, violent shades

We are dancing again

In a dream, by the lake'

Chapter 3: Summer (thaw)

It's May of 2012 and Steve is still picking fights he can't win, goddammit.

James returns from a mission with Clint to learn that Fury has Steve in lockup. "What the hell?" He confronts the Director.

Fury doesn't even look up from his computer. "Captain Rogers has decided to break into our secure files and assaulted one of our agents."

"Assaulted?" James echoes incredulously.

"Agent Rumlow is fine, thank you for the concern." Fury does look up then, eyeing James's ragged clothes. "I take it the mission didn't go as planned?"

"You can't be serious. Steve isn't some common criminal, he doesn't even work for you, you can't just throw him in a cell."

"I can when he proves to be a threat."

"Steve isn't a threat and you know it, damn it!" James slams the table, hard.

Fury doesn't flinch but the look in his good eye is hard. "The same applies to you, agent Barnes."

James stiffens, breaths through the flash of rage. "I'm not a threat." He says through gritted teeth.

"Good. I must say, that's a surprisingly passionate response towards someone you claim not to know." Fury eyes him, is there something I should know is left unsaid.

And there's that familiar surge of panic. "I know he's Captain America, and people see him as a legend." James backtracks. "Based on that, I know this can't be right."

"He's only in lockup to cool down. Obviously, I'm not sending Captain America to prison. In the meantime, don't you have a mission report to fill out?"

Like hell he does. "I want to talk to him."

"No."

"No, you're right." James amends, pausing long enough to see Fury's expression morph into one of satisfaction before continuing. "I'm gonna talk to him, and then I'm gonna take him home. Because there's a reason you've been coddling him, but he's not coming to work for you now, is he?" James doesn't quite know where that comes from, he wonders if it's the man Steve keeps calling Bucky.

Fury's expression hardens. "Agent Barnes, I assure you I've got the situation handled. And your attitude-"

"Then I sure hope you have it handled without me." James feels a flash of triumph when Fury's good eye widens with shock. Fury has underestimated him - James is more than aware that he's an ace up Fury's sleeve when it comes to Steve's imminent recruitment. And now Fury has made his bed by alienating Steve from Shield.

"Is that a threat?" Fury's voice is as cold as James has ever heard it.

And this can't be him, but he flashes a fake smile, all confidence and swagger, as he says: "Of course not." And he holds Fury's gaze until the other man nods.

Fury presses a button. "Permission for agent Barnes to remove Captain Rogers from lockup." He grits the words out. "Congratulations, agent."

Steve is jumping to his feet the moment James opens the door to his cell.

"Damn it, Steve," He says without bite. "didn't I tell you to stop picking fights?"

Steve's laugh is choked awe and relief. "I never listen."

James remembers that. "C'mon, let's get you home before Fury changes his mind."

Steve blinks. "They're letting me leave?"

"Fury is nice like that." James smiles. It feels so much like before he has the odd urge to remove his glove and check the metal is still there.

"I've noticed." Steve chuckles. "Thank you, Buck."

They leave Shield's headquarters, ignoring the questing looks other agents send their way.

Steve's voice is hopeful when James tells him he wants to bring Steve to his own apartment. "Really?" He asks like James has handed him a gift.

James shrugs. "I want to talk and yours is bugged."

Steve frowns. "Bugged?"

"It's a microphone, so they can hear you." James explains.

Steve halts at that. "Wait, really? And you knew?" There's a flash of hurt. "I mean, of course you don't owe me-"

"Not for sure." He amends. "But I know Fury. To say he's paranoid is putting it lightly."

"Then wouldn't he be listening to you too?"

"Oh, he tried." James smirks.

So, they enter James's apartment and James takes the couch while Steve sits in the chair across. Steve is more careful than the times they've spoken before - James notes - like he's afraid to do the wrong thing. It makes James frown, a thought striking him. "What files did you break into?" And Steve won't meet his eyes, which is all the answer he needs. James stiffens, horror seeping through. "They were mine." He realizes, fists clenching. "You had no right."

"I didn't read anything about- whatever it is you think you can't tell me." Steve's voice is fast and panicked. "I wouldn't do that to you."

"Then what…?"

"I only looked at the mission reports. The thing in Texas with… was there really a God?"

"Steve." James warns.

"Sorry." Steve shakes his head as if to shake the distracting thoughts away. "You don't have to tell me stuff, you don't remember me much, I get it. But from my perspective, I see you work for this organization I know nothing about, and you're jumpy and withdrawn, you flinch if I step too close. I just- I had to make sure-"

"You thought Shield was… hurting me?" James finishes for him. The idea of it is so ridiculous James could laugh. But then he takes in Steve's stiff posture and anxious eyes and any humor fades away. "And you were… worried? About me?" And it's not that he's unfamiliar with worry, but the thought that someone would risk taking on an entire organization, one that has been actively supporting them, just because they were mistreating him? That makes his head spin. He wonders, how many saw the Winter Soldier being treated as less than object, and maybe had the shred of decency to feel bad, but did nothing because it was easy?

"Of course I was worried. Even if you don't remember it, you're my friend." Steve's voice breaks James out of the dark thoughts. "I'd do anything for you, but you won't talk to me and I don't know what to do."

James blinks. He doesn't know what to do with that kind of devotion. He certainly doesn't deserve it. If Steve knew what he's done, he would think so too. "You shouldn't say that." He murmurs.

"Why?"

James can't meet his eyes. "You don't know me."

"I do. I do. I understand that you're different now, but you're Bucky too."

"I'm not." The denial comes with a flash of anger, but it's like lightning - there and then gone. "Or maybe something in me is. I don't know." He rests his head in his hands for a moment and when he looks up Steve's hand is hovering in the space between them. He lets it drop.

"I see you, Bucky." Steve's voice is gentle.

"There's that name again." James says it lightly, jokingly, because he wants to change the conversation, but Steve's frown only deepens and the humor falls short.

"If you don't want me to call you that…"

"No, I do." The answer is automatic, and James has the sudden realization that it's the truth. "It's just… strange."

"Because you're used to James now?"

He thinks about it. "No." He can't quite understand it, but he knows it's deeper than that. "They told me my name was James, but I didn't want a name then, didn't feel like someone who had any place having one." His smile is a bitter thing, and he doesn't miss the way Steve's expression grows alarmed. "And it took a long time before I let them call me that, but even then it didn't feel right. Sometimes I wonder if they all have it wrong, that maybe I was never this James Buchanan Barnes person after all."

Steve doesn't know about the Asset, James has been careful about that, but he's just revealed a little piece of the puzzle and it makes him feel open and raw. And Steve looks like he wants to ask, to push. A part of James is hoping he will. "And what about when I call you Bucky?" He asks instead, voice measured like anything less could tip them over the breaking point.

James is neutral. James doesn't feel like anything at all. That's what he thought a year ago when he accepted Clint's tentative offer of friendship - even if he didn't know it for what it was then – and it's still true today. But Bucky slips right in somewhere between the shattered fragments of his mind. And Bucky feels like unbreachable expectation, but also like warmth and Steve's voice saying it a thousand different ways – breathy, and laughing, and happy, and scared… "It feels a little like you're calling a ghost."

"Oh." Steve's face falls. "I can-"

"But also, like maybe that ghost was me, once."

Steve blinks. "Is that… good?"

"I think so." He admits, and he smiles a genuine smile then. "I like the way you say it." Like Bucky is what Steve needs for all to be right with the world. He thinks, maybe he could be Bucky, even if he'll never be that Bucky.

Steve returns his smile, his shoulders fall with something akin to relief and after a moment of comfortable silence, he starts to laugh. "Sorry," He says. "I was just thinking - all this time, and you're still breaking up my fights."

"That I remember." It's scary how easy it is to admit that to Steve when the thought of mentioning it to anyone else still makes him recoil.

"Really?"

"It's one of the first things that came back." The images return now. "We were small, and I don't think we knew each other yet but I was watching you get beat up by some jackass, but you just kept getting back up, I couldn't believe it."

"You stepped in. It's how we met."

"And instead of thanking me, you got mad about it." It sounds so ridiculous now and suddenly he's laughing – full, honest laugh. And Steve doesn't know it's the first time he's done so since he can remember, that he's been wondering if he was even capable of something that human. But the way Steve grins in response says maybe he isn't as clueless as James would like to assume. "Who does that?" He finishes.

"I was a stubborn kid."

"Was?"

Steve's smile turns sheepish as he shrugs nonchalantly. "I appreciated it all the same."

That reminds him. "Well, why did you punch Rumlow anyway?"

"I didn't- or I guess I did. But when he saw me, he attacked me… It was actually kind of strange." Steve frowns.

"Rumlow is a strange guy." James agrees.

"You've met him?"

"Only in passing. He seemed… intense. And that's coming from me." Any time he's been in a room with agent Rumlow, the other man had looked at him with the kind of cold assessment he associated with ice and pain. "I can't say I like him much…"

"That makes two of us. Although I can't say I like Shield much either." Steve's eyes on James turn wary. "How much do you trust them?"

James sighs. He doesn't want to talk about this with Steve - with anyone - but he can't have Steve thinking he needs rescuing from Shield either, as much as he does appreciate the sentiment. "Fury is an intimidating, paranoid bastard, and they generally have no concept of boundaries when it comes to getting a job done-"

"Then why are you…?"

"They saved me, Steve." He can't meet Steve's eyes then. "I was gone. Anyone else would've- well, the point is they didn't have to help me, had no way of knowing it would even work. But they did it."

"Wha- what does gone mean?" Steve sounds like he's afraid of the answer.

James shrugs, gaze still fixed on the wallpaper behind Steve's shoulder. "And believe it or not, some of those people are- well I suppose they're my friends." It's the first time he's admitted that out loud either. "So I do trust them. And when it comes to Fury, you can trust his commitment to doing what he thinks is right." His eyes finally flicker to Steve's. "You two have that in common, at least."

Steve seems to think about it. "You think I should take his offer to work for Shield?"

"No." The answer is automatic. "I mean… you can, of course. But you don't have to keep doing this." There's an image of a small Steve and a crumpled-up rejection form. 'I should be going with you', he had said. "You could have a life."

"So could you." Steve's eyes narrow. "Yet here you are."

He couldn't, but he can't tell Steve that.

It's June of 2012 and James goes on a mission with Steve. It doesn't go well.

It's Steve's first mission with Shield so Fury pairs him up with James and Clint and sends them on what's supposed to be an easy hostage rescue. James is wary, for one he still hasn't properly told Steve anything about his time as the Asset, including the metal arm. He wears a long-sleeved coat and gloves, and he sees the questioning way Steve keeps eyeing them, but he doesn't ask so James doesn't tell him. And then there's Clint - his new life meeting his old one, James doesn't know how to feel about that.

They take the jet and Clint makes small talk, he's good at that. James mostly stays silent. They've dressed Steve up with an updated version of the Captain America uniform and James can't stop staring. The first time he's seen Steve dressed like this – since he can remember – was a life-sized painting at the Smithsonian museum. He'd had no idea who Steve was then, and he remembers the easy dismissal with which he'd walked past. Now, seeing Steve in the uniform, waiting to follow him into battle, is a little like stepping back in time… even if he has no clear memory of doing so before.

"So Cap, how does it feel to be back in the uniform?" Clint's voice breaks through James's thoughts.

"It feels… strange."

"Yeah, this must all be so weird for you? I can't imagine waking up in… 2082 and just continuing on, knowing everything I knew is gone- sorry." Clint finishes sheepishly.

"It's okay." Steve shrugs though his voice is tight. "Not everything is gone…" His eyes flicker to James and then away.

James can't help his shoulders tensing up. He's not wrong, a voice in the back of his head points out.

"Right." Clint's eyes flicker between the two. "I mean, I imagine that must be strange too."

"When I went under my best friend was dead, I woke up and he's alive. That's not strange, it's the one good thi-"

"I told you I'm not him." James mutters and stands. He goes to the only escape on the jet – the pilot's cabin.

"Bucky!" Steve's voice calls after him but he doesn't follow.

James spends the rest of the flight with the pilot, only returning when they land. Clint is busy setting up his bow, but Steve approaches him. "Look, I'm sorry if I said something wrong, I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine." James's voice comes out too hard, he softens it, scolds his expression into something apologetic. "It's not you."

Steve's shoulders relax, though he still looks confused. But there's no time to talk, they finish gearing up and head out. Clint, being the most experienced with Shield's missions, gives them the rundown: two-story building, three armed hostiles, and two hostages.

"We're splitting up?" Steve asks.

"I'm a sniper, Cap. I work best from high ground. I'll go around, see if I can get a good vantage point on our hostiles. James?"

Usually, this is the point where James would confirm he's doing the same, he is a sniper too after all… but he's got hand-to-hand combat in him as well, or the Asset did. He glances at Steve. "I'll be Cap's backup."

James sees Clint's poorly concealed frown. He wonders if Clint will say anything, but he only nods. "Be careful." And he's off to the roofs.

Steve grins at him. "Let's go." James can practically hear the held back 'just like old times, Buck'.

The mission goes well until it doesn't. Steve goes first, distracting the enemies from the hostages, ducking behind the shield when they open fire. James drops in from the other side, dropping the first guy before they even notice him. He spares the man a glance – unconscious, not dead – and wrestles the gun away from the second one. He avoids using the metal arm and it puts him at a disadvantage, but he's not gonna kill anyone, goddammit. He kicks, sending the guy sprawling back and then Steve throws the shield just hard enough to knock him out. But the third one- he's on the ground but he's getting back up and there's a gun in his hand-

There's a shot. Steve cries out. James is frozen, watching Steve fall. It takes him a moment, but then his brain catches up and- no, no-no. "Steve!" He falls to his knees, stares at the growing stain of blood on Steve's back, his friend's back, and his flesh hand hovers over it, trembling badly.

"…'m okay- Buck-" Steve is murmuring.

The man fires again and James ducks over Steve, tries to roll them both away but Steve hisses with pain and James curses under his breath, but inside all he can think is not this- not Steve, over and over like a horrible mantra. "I'm sorry." James says as he grabs the strap of Steve's uniform and drags him behind cover, ignoring the gutting jabs of Steve's pained cries.

"Steve?" James breathes. He's crouched over Steve's limp body, reaching to do something – they put all that twisted, useless crap in his head and not a single word of it is about first aid – but he can touch, he can- he can…

Red. His gloves are red. Blood, his mind supplies, that's Steve's blood. He feels sick.

"B- Buck-"

The gunman's laugh pierces the air. "Cowering like cowards? So much for the great Captain America, huh?"

There's so much blood on his hands. So many lives. Gloves stained with blood to hide hands long soaked through.

Kill, no witnesses. I- I swear I didn't see anything. Mission report: Necessary collateral damage.

But not Steve, never Steve. Anyone but Steve.

Unstable. Wipe him and start again. Bucky!

No. He rips the gloves off, throws them away but it's not enough, can never be enough.

"Come out and face me, cowards!" The gunman is yelling.

His fists clench. He stands, tears his left sleeve off.

The gunman's grin falls. "Is that…?"

He flexes the metal. The gunman falters and he's slow to fire, and it's the Asset that stops the bullet with the metal arm. He grabs the gun, crushes the barrel easily, and watches as the gunman lets go in shock and stumbles back, arms raised. "Okay- okay I give up!"

Kill, no witnesses. The Asset raises his metal fist.

He keeps hitting long after the man falls still.

"Bucky, stop!... Bucky!"

A hand grabs his right shoulder. The Asset spins around, throws a punch that the other man dodges by an inch.

"Bucky!"

The Asset's fist hovers in the air. He blinks. Once. Twice. Steve.

"I'm okay, it's just my shoulder. Bucky, I'm okay. You can stop." Steve is saying over and over.

James lets his arm drop. He turns to look at the crumpled man by his feet and Steve's hand tightens as if to stop him but it's too late. What's left of the gunman's face-

Oh God.

"Bucky, look at me." He does. "You're okay. We're both okay. The mission is done, let's just go back to the jet, okay Buck?"

"I'm not." He mumbles.

"What?"

"I'm not Bucky." He wrenches his arm away in a sudden flash of anger, stumbles away from both Steve and the gunman's body. "Don't you get it? This is what I am!" He motions.

"You were protecting me-"

"Protecting?" He echoes incredulously. "Don't you know? That's not in my programming."

Steve frowns. "I don't know what-"

"You want to know what they did to me?"

Steve gulps, nods.

James steps forward, holding out the bloodied metal arm. "They scooped whatever was left of Bucky out, and replaced it with me. The new fist of Hydra. The ghost. The Winter Soldier. I'm their own personal weapon, Steve. I've killed children, I've killed their pets if they were in the way. I've probably killed people you knew too. And I felt nothing doing it, I don't even feel anything now." He shakes his head - a jagged, desperate motion. "They told me I should feel guilt, that that's the appropriate emotional response, and I told my therapist I could feel it, but-" He swallows a sudden lump in his throat. "but I just said it because that's what he wanted to hear. I couldn't tell him- all I can think about is that those were my missions, and I did them well. I can't even see them as people. Don't you see how messed up that is? How messed up I am?"

Steve is gaping, eyes filled with horror as he glances between James and the metal limb. He doesn't speak.

"Maybe you finally do." The anger bleeds into quiet acceptance. "There's no Bucky here. And me? I don't even know you. If Hydra showed up right now and told me you were my new mission, I'd probably kill you too." He steps backward. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry I let you think I was someone I wasn't."

"Bucky, wait-"

"I don't want you to call me that anymore."

There's a pause. "Okay, but James-"

"No." His voice is hard. "From now on, you leave me alone."

"Buck-"

"I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE!" The metal fist raises on instinct and he doesn't know if he's James or the Asset right now, but he breathes and lowers it, turning away. "Don't you get that you're not my friend?" He spits the bitter words out, keeps his back turned because he can't look at Steve as he says it. "I wish you'd stayed where you came from."

He leaves then and he's glad Steve doesn't follow straight away, it gives him a chance to compose himself, and his face betrays no emotion when he returns to the jet, Steve and the hostages in tow.

"Thank God, I couldn't find you- whoa what happened?" Clint startles at the sight of blood on Steve's back.

"Got hit in the shoulder, it's already healing." Steve explains tightly.

James discards his guns and heads straight for the pilot's cabin.

"Hey, hold on. You okay?" Clint asks.

"Fine." James doesn't pause, slams the door to the cabin, and finally breathes out.

"Rough one?" The pilot asks after a moment, the first time he's spoken all mission.

James nods in response. He's ruined enough with his words for one day.

I kinda broke Bucky and Steve... sorry. Next chapter is the last one though, so be expecting a lot of communication and comfort, also more of Nat and Clint being good overprotective friends.

Next chapter will be up Monday (maybe Sunday but no promises).