O'Malley's small, slight form was curled up on a sofa in the kitchen. Somebody had put a blanket over her. She started when Steve came in.

"'s he OK?" She said, shaking her head as she sat up.

"He's still out." Steve said. "He fell asleep again about fifteen minutes after you left, he still hasn't woken up."

"I'm not worried about that. He's got a lot of injuries, I'd rather he slept it off. Who's with him?"

"Sam Wilson. He's done a lot with vets who're the worse for wear." O'Malley nodded. Steve started searching the kitchen for something he could eat quickly. Now he was away from Bucky, he wanted to sleep, but he didn't dare.

.

He'd had maybe twenty minutes out, he'd struggled to make himself do anything quickly. He needed to eat, he'd had a fight and not a lot of sleep, he needed food. He couldn't do anything about sleep right now. He didn't dare leave Bucky for long enough to sleep, not yet. He'd prayed, not aloud, O'Malley was in there, admittedly half asleep, but still. He'd given thanks that they'd found him, that they'd caught him, that he had at least some idea who he was, and he'd prayed for some idea what to do next. Because he was out.

"Steve," Steve jumped. The radio by his elbow had crackled in to life. Sam's voice. Bucky.

"Go ahead."

"Get back down here, he's awake."

Steve heard a note in Sam's voice that made him almost run back to the infirmary.

.

Bucky was standing with the bed between him and Sam. Sam's hands were spread in front of him, trying to show Bucky he meant him no harm. Bucky didn't look like he believed it.

"Bucky, calm down." Steve said as soon as he got through the door. Bucky un-crouched slightly, that was better, he didn't look quite so much like he was about to jump on Sam.

"Where did you go?"

Steve swallowed. "I know. I said I wouldn't leave, I needed to eat."

"Who is he?"

"Do you recognise him?"

Bucky hesitated. "I think so."

"Where from?" Bucky looked hard at Sam for a minute.

"You weren't my mission, but you were in my way and collaterals were acceptable. You have wings, I broke them. You should have died."

"I had a chute." Sam said. "No hard feelings?"

Bucky shook his head. He was standing more normally now. "You weren't my mission."

Sam hesitated. "OK then. I'm Sam Wilson, by the way." He offered a hand to Bucky, who eyed it suspiciously for a minute before turning to Steve.

"You're his handler?" Steve looked at Sam for a second. He didn't like the term, but it would do for understanding.

"Sort of. He usually does what I say, but he doesn't have to." Bucky frowned.

"That's cause he's usually right." Sam said.

"He gets in to fights he shouldn't." Bucky said. "Always has. Think he likes being punched."

Steve half laughed, in spite of himself. "You remember that OK."

"Punk."

"Jerk." Steve said, without even thinking.

Bucky looked at him, frowning slightly. "I knew you."

"You said that."

"No but… I knew you more than I thought I did." Steve frowned at him for a moment.

"Probably true." Steve had known Bucky for as long as he could remember, he could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times they'd been apart for over a week before the war, most of those had been because Steve was in hospital.

"The more I talk to you, the more I remember."

"Let's keep talking then." Steve sat down on one end of the bed. Bucky hesitated, then sat down on the other, keeping Sam in his line of sight.

They started off talking. About which kids on the block you suspected if somebody played knock-down-ginger on you, about scary Mr. McAllister they'd all been told to run away from, but nobody had ever told them why. Bits of it made Bucky smile or laugh, then for a second he'd look almost normal.

"Where are the other commandos?"

Steve hesitated.

"They're dead, aren't they?" Bucky remembered who they were, so this would probably hurt him, but lying would probably hurt him more in the long run.

"Jim was KIA in Korea in '61. James, English James, died of pneumonia a couple of months before I woke up, Jaques I haven't tracked down, but he must be dead by now, he'd be 103. Dum Dum worked as a drill sergeant, then got sick of it and joined the CIA, died at home in his eighties. Gabe was still alive, last I heard, but he's got cancer. He won't be long." Bucky sighed heavily. He'd expected that. He was with it enough to realise that everyone he knew before would be dead or dying.

"What about your girl?"

"She wasn't my girl."

"Only 'cause you were too slow to ask her."

More of Steve didn't want to answer this time. "She's alive."

Bucky looked at him for a long moment. "But what?"

Steve sighed. "She had a life. She had one heck of a life. She founded SHIELD, stopped a list of doomsday weapons as long as your arm, got married, she has children and grandchildren…" Steve tailed off. Either Bucky would get this or he wouldn't. He wasn't going any further with it.