Steve, he turns the name over in his head. He had called his handler Steve at one point. At least, he's pretty sure he had. All his other malfunction/memories match with the evidence he'd found in his handler's rooms so… so logically that meant that the whole calling-his-handler-by-his-name thing had to be true too, right?

It feels weird though and he mulls it over throughout the day. In the past, in the malfunction/memories, his handler had called him Bucky… and everyone calls him Bucky now (except for JARVIS, he calls him Sergeant Barnes for some reason), but everyone else generally calls him Bucky so…

So, does that mean it is okay for him to go back to calling his handler by his first name?

He winces and his heart begins to pound a little harder at the thought. He swallows nervously and focuses back on his handler as he prepares their supper. Today it's a purple smoothie and a plate of apple slices and the Asset scans his handler's back carefully. His handler is kind, he gives him good food and lets him sleep in his rooms and has yet to punish him at all…

He doesn't want to ruin that.

The topic is still on his mind once they finish supper dishes and his handler turns to him, drying his hands. "I was going to take a shower tonight," he says as he puts away his towel. "Did you want to take one first?"

The Asset nods easily, familiar enough with this ritual to accept the first shower. So far, he and his handler have always showered on the same days, which he doesn't mind, since it makes it easier for him to remember the task. He makes sure to grab his sleepwear before he heads for the shower, but his mind is still preoccupied as he turns on the water and begins to get undressed.

Does he really think his handler will get mad at him if he uses his name? He has to admit that most of him does not. Handler-Rogers is the best handler he's ever had, and the Avengers are just about as good. Even if his handler doesn't want him to call him by his first name, he'd probably explain that rule to him calmly, instead of punishing him immediately.

He chews on his cheek in indecision and steps into the shower, his movements mechanical as he goes through his usual routine. He has showering down to a science and can therefore focus fully on his current dilemma without having to worry or really pay attention.

He… doubts his handler would get mad if he used his first name. Take today for example, he had walked up to him and told him what to do and all his handler had done was nod and actually do it. That is not normal handler behavior, but the other Avengers don't seem to find anything wrong with it.

That doesn't exactly mean all the rules are out the window though, and he'd rather be safe than sorry in this case. (But his handler hadn't even cared when he'd gone into his room, is calling him by his name really worse than that?) He can't decide, and he's just about finished rinsing the conditioner out of his hair when he freezes mid-motion, his brain completely forgetting his current dilemma as it takes the time to clue in to his surroundings and promptly freak out.

The shower water is warm.

He whips around to stare at the tap behind him and his eyes widen when it confirms the water temperature. He'd been so distracted by his debate that he'd turned the hot water on, and he hadn't even noticed. His hand moves instantly to turn it off, his heart pounding as he tries not to think about how much trouble he's going to get into.

He's not supposed to use the hot water. He's never used the hot water before— that had never been allowed— what was he thinking? He should have been paying attention—

"Sit," he snaps out, trying not to sound panicked as he lowers Steve down onto the kitchen chair, the boy shivering and dripping thanks to the freak storm they'd been caught in.

"Take your jacket off," he orders as he rushes to pull the quilt off the couch. "I'll boil some water and then you can take a bath and warm up—

He stills. He blinks in the warm spray and slowly drops his hand.

The… the warm shower feels really nice. He likes it much better than his usual cold showers and— and while he's not sure if his recent malfunction/memory means that he'd had warm showers before… it sort of made him feel… He's… pretty sure that his handler won't get mad at him for taking a warm shower.

He swallows and clenches his jaw, moving on to finish rinsing his hair as quickly as possible. His hands shake slightly as he turns off the water and steps out, nervous despite himself. His stomach drops as he steps out onto the mat and sees that the mirrors of the bathroom have fogged up thanks to the hot water and steam from his shower.

His handler will definitely know now that he'd used the hot water. He clenches his fists and grabs his towel, not wanting to be slow on top of everything else. He'll just have to see… he'll have to see if his handler gets mad about the water, and if he doesn't…

If he doesn't then maybe…

He gets dressed and brushes his hair quickly, putting his used clothes in the laundry hamper before carefully stepping out of the bathroom. His handler isn't in the living room, so he's probably in his room, and the Asset tries not to feel too relieved as he walks as quietly as possible over to his dresser.

He's busy making up his bed when his handler steps out of his room, his own pajamas in hand as he goes over to the bathroom and shuts the door. Anxiety twists in his stomach as he sits down and waits, his heart pounding and his hands clasped tightly together in his lap.

Fifteen minutes later and the water shuts off. His heart is about ready to pound right out of his chest by now and he presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth as he waits for his handler to come out of the bathroom.

Surely he will notice the hot water, the mirror, he's got to, his handler isn't dumb, and besides, JARVIS can probably tell him if he doesn't pick up on it and then he will know for sure that his asset broke the rules and then—

The door opens and his handler steps out, running a hand through his still damp hair. He glances over and the Asset's stomach does its best to crawl its way up his throat, but all his handler does is flash him a small smile and bid him goodnight.

The Asset stares at him dumbfounded, his eyes following him as his handler makes it to his room and closes his door halfway.

His handler hadn't… he hadn't gotten mad. He hadn't even mentioned it – but he must have noticed, he must have so… He deflates slightly against the couch and sucks in a breath, feeling stupid. He shouldn't have been so worried. His handler isn't the type to explode over little things – he hadn't even gotten mad when he'd gone into his room for Pete's sake, so it isn't that surprising that he'd let this go too.

Does that mean… he wouldn't mind… if he used his first name?

The Asset stares up at the ceiling and turns over the idea in his head. Calling his handler by his first name seems like a big step, and he's not sure he's ready to leap that far… but maybe… Maybe he could start with calling him Handler-Steve, instead of Handler-Rogers – if only in the privacy of his own mind.

He nods slowly. Yes, Handler-Steve is better than Handler-Rogers, he can call him that.

And maybe… maybe he can keep having warm showers too.

oOo

That night, his handler doesn't sleep well again, and he stays awake, staring at the ceiling as he listens to the shaky breaths coming from the other room. He doesn't hear the telltale sounds of his handler getting onto the floor this time, so that's good, but he still can't help the worry that twists in his stomach as he listens to his handler's uneasy sleep.

He doesn't know what to do about it and… and he feels like he's supposed to do something about it. He's not sure if this is really something related to his current mission but… but he's supposed to take care of his handler, right?

Yeah that seems… that seems right. He can't remember ever specifically being told to look after his handlers but… but he's definitely supposed to look after Handler-Steve.

That doesn't really change the fact that he doesn't know how though. He doesn't really know why his handler is having such a hard time sleeping, and he certainly doesn't know what would fix that. He huffs frustratedly and shifts a little on the couch. He'll have to… think this over a little bit more.


A few days later and he's no closer to solving that particular problem, and his handler has to leave again for another doctor's appointment. He tries not to worry too much at how often Handler-Rog– Steve seems to need to get checked — the serum is supposed to keep him healthy after all — but he can't help tensing slightly as his handler leaves him in the common room again and walks out the door.

Surely something must be wrong if he has to go to the doctor so often, right?

"Alright." He turns to look over at Wilson, standing by one of the couches. It's apparently his turn to train him today and the man is rubbing his hands together, and bright gleam in his eyes. "Do you have anything you wanted to do? Because I have an idea."

The Asset shakes his head and Wilson grins. "Cool," he says, waving him towards the communal kitchen. "So." He settles himself onto one of the barstools and leans his elbow on the counter. "I was thinking, since you're starting to eat solid food now, did you want to learn to cook something?"

The Asset's eyes widen a little in surprise. He'd never thought about cooking food before, that is always something his handler does (that is something his handlers always did actually, he doesn't think his made food in… in a long time.) Still, Wilson wouldn't be suggesting the activity if it isn't allowed and… learning to cook did seem like a useful skill…

He dips his head down and Wilson sits up. "Great," he says, smiling. "Did you have anything in mind? If not, then we'll just start with the basics and go from there."

He's about to shake his head – he's never cooked anything before, why would he have an idea what to cook now – before he pauses, his mouth opening slightly. Actually… there is… there is one thing.

"Bacon," he gets out, his hands tightening on his pant legs. "Bacon and peanut butter sandwich."

Wilson raises his eyebrows but doesn't get mad. "No bananas?" He asks after a moment.

The Asset shakes his head, a little confused. He doesn't remember bananas in the sandwich – are bananas important? Is he forgetting them? Maybe—

"Cool," Wilson says, getting off the stool. "I think there's bacon in the fridge. "We can make it now."

The Asset nods, relieved, and moves to follow Wilson into the kitchen watching as he pulls out aprons from a drawer and hands one over to him. It takes him a moment to figure it out, but he copies Wilson as he puts it on and he's pretty sure — he's pretty sure — he's seen a woman wearing one of these before. A woman with brown hair and, and blue eyes.

"Okay, so peanut butter and bacon sandwiches seems pretty straight forward," Wilson says, and the Asset blinks, looking towards him. "But, let me know if we miss anything."

He nods and follows Wilson so that they can both wash their hands before getting started. "I'll get the bacon," Wilson tells him. "Think you can find a frying pan?"

It takes him a moment to remember where the frying pans are, but he and Handler-Steve had eaten in the common room enough times that he's able to find it without much trouble. He pulls it out as Wilson comes back, a package of thin, raw meat strips in his hand.

As soon as he catches sight of it, he knows instantly that it's bacon, and it feels almost like he's always known that bacon looks like that, like the knowledge had just been sitting in his brain, waiting for the right moment to show itself.

"Do you know how to cook bacon?" Wilson asks, lifting the package a little.

He swallows. "Unknown," he replies, staring at the food. He's fairly sure he's never cooked bacon before but… a part of him feels like he'll be able to figure it out pretty quickly.

"No big deal," Wilson replies — and the Asset almost gives a start because a thought hits him like a thunderbolt. If… if he's calling his handler by his first name, should he start calling all the Avengers by their first names? Does he even know Wilson's first name? "Cooking bacon is pretty simple," Wilson continues, cutting off his train of thought. "And," he gestures at the Asset's left hand. "You don't even have to worry about getting burned, so, that's a plus."

The Asset blinks a little owlishly at him and Wilson moves on to show him how to set the pan down on the stove and how to turn it on. "Once it's heated up, we can start cooking," he says.

The stove is different than the one he sees sometimes in his malfunction/memories. That one had been a great hulking black thing with a fire lit inside. This one is sleek, the stovetop glass, with nothing but simple circles to indicate where to place anything and part of him wonders how it gets warm or maintains heat without a fire.

It heats up just fine though, and soon Wilson is opening up the bacon package, showing him how to lay out the pieces in the pan. "The fat in the bacon spits a little," he warns as he holds his arm up as far away as he can from the cooking meat, while at the same time trying to drop in a final slice. He turns and hands him a fork. "You shouldn't have trouble turning them over with your left hand though."

The Asset feels his mouth quirk up a little and he turns his head to hide it, focusing instead on the cooking food. The smell makes his mouth water and he finds himself shifting a little in anticipation as he slowly begins flipping the frying bacon.

"I'll get the bread and stuff ready," Wilson says, turning away to the pantry.

The Asset nods absentmindedly and instinctively looks around for a plate as the first slices of bacon start becoming ready. He doesn't find one set out yet, so he steps away for a second to grab one out of the cupboard. It isn't until he's back at the stove that he pauses to wonder whether he should have waited for instruction from Wilson.

He looks over and the man doesn't seem bothered, focused instead on pulling out a butter knife for the peanut butter as he hums to himself. The Asset relaxes and turns back to the stove, switching hands so that he can use his metal fingers to help keep the bacon on the fork as he transfers it to the plate. Soon everything is cooked and transferred, and he reaches over to turn off the stove.

"Looks good," Wilson says as the Asset puts the fork down. "Why don't you bring it over here and we can dig in."

He sweeps up the plate and steps over to where Wilson has bread, butter and peanut butter spread out on the counter. Wilson picks up the butter knife and grins at the plate of approaching bacon. "Man, I'm starving," he says as he reaches over to scrape some butter onto his knife.

The Asset's eyes widen as Wilson moves and one second, he's putting the plate down, the next his free hand is snapping around Wilson's wrist, the knife inches from the bread. Everything seems to still and Wilson tenses for a brief second in his grip before relaxing very carefully.

"Hey," he says without moving, his eyes flicking up to his. "Something wrong?"

The Asset breathes in and glances over the spread in front of him, trying to figure out what is bothering him. His eyes skip up to the butter knife again and he sets his plate down, single-mindedly reaching over to take the knife out of Wilson's hand. Wilson lets it go easily, his eyes following the Asset's every move.

"Wrong," he mumbles as he scrapes the butter off, his mind racing because he's not exactly sure what he's looking for, or why this is important, but butter isn't the right thing, he needs something else.

"The… the butter's wrong?" Wilson asks hesitantly and the Asset nods, letting go of his wrist and setting the knife down, his eyes scanning over the condiments already laid out.

"What's it supposed to be?" Wilson asks confused, taking a step back and watching him as he moves purposely over to the pantry, opening it to scan the contents inside.

"Something else," he replies, pausing for a second, trying to catch onto the wisps of whatever it is floating around in his brain. "White."

"White?" Wilson questions, and the Asset nods again, moving boxes of pasta around as he searches. Yes, white. White… something. He closes the pantry and moves over to the fridge. "But not butter," Wilson confirms.

He shakes his head and pulls the door open, barely minding the cold air as he searches for… for the thing. Peanut butter, bacon and…

He spots a jar of something smooth and white on the door and he grabs it, twisting off the cap and sticking a finger in without thinking, his brain completely focused on his mission to find whatever it is he's looking for. He pulls his finger out and licks it, his shoulders relaxing as he tastes it. Yes, this one.

He turns to Wilson and holds out the jar. "This," he says simply.

"Mayonnaise?" Wilson says incredulously, his face twisting up as he leans back slightly. The Asset nods and shuts the fridge door, heading back to the counter. "I'm not putting mayonnaise on a peanut butter sandwich," Wilson continues, his mouth open in disbelief.

The Asset sets the jar down with a clack, his jaw stiffening. Internally, his stomach twists with uneasiness at his insistence, he knows he should probably just listen to Wilson but… but this is definitely how it's supposed to be eaten and Wilson had said to tell him if they were missing anything. "Yes," he says determinedly.

Wilson eyes him for a second, his eyes wide, before his mouth quirks up in amusement. "Alright then," he says bemusedly, coming over to settle into a chair and shaking his head a little in disbelief.

The Asset nods stiffly at him and relaxes, waiting until Wilson has served himself (the man eying the mayonnaise dubiously the whole time) before he makes his own sandwich. His right hand shakes slightly as he spreads his peanut butter, his brain getting the chance to catch up with his recent actions.

He flicks his eyes nervously up to Wilson, wondering if he will report his behavior to his handler. Handler-Steve had said that the other Avengers wouldn't be reporting to him but… but he can never be too careful.

Wilson doesn't look mad though, his expression is a little strange as he bites into his sandwich, but he doesn't look mad. The Asset drops his eyes back down to his own food and finally takes a bite.

His worry over Wilson vanishes as the… familiar taste of peanut butter, bacon and mayonnaise fills his mouth. His eyes widen and he takes another bite.

"Hey, make sure you don't eat too much," Wilson reminds him suddenly. "Steve will get mad at me if I get you sick or something."

The Asset nods distractedly, trying to savour the taste of peanut butter in his mouth. He really really likes this. He doesn't want to get Wilson in trouble though, so he only eats about half the sandwich, his eyes lingering on it longingly once he sets it down.

"Well that was stranger than I thought it would be," Wilson says dryly as he finishes his sandwich and dusts off his hands. He glances over at him and a soft smile slides over his face. "Hey, don't worry about the leftovers," he says, standing up to start putting the dishes in the sink. "We can make more later, or, you know, any other weird recipe you suddenly get a craving for."

The Asset nods a little uncertainly and moves to help Wilson with the dishes. Wilson starts filling up the sink and adding soap before pausing and looking over to him. "Do you want to wash?" He offers, and the Asset stares at him. He's never washed before; his handler always does that. He flicks his gaze over to the water and then back up to Wilson, unsure how to respond. "It's easy," Wilson says, offering him the cloth and turning off the water to the sink. "Just rub until all the food's off."

He accepts the cloth slowly and moves over to stand by the sink, grabbing the first dish he sees. It happens to be the frying pan, and next to him, Wilson gives a start.

"Hang on a sec," he says, before going over to a role of paper towels. "We don't want that grease going down the drain," he explains as he wipes out the pan and throws the paper towel into the trash.

The Asset scans the pan for a second longer before finally submerging it. The water is pleasantly warm, and he takes the cloth that Wilson had given him and begins to scrub at the inside of the pan. He quickly realises that he can feel the difference between the clean and dirty parts of the pan under his cloth and he relaxes a little at that.

Once the pan is clean, he rinses it and hands it off to Wilson, turning to grab the knives they had used next. Wilson gives him a small smile of encouragement and the Asset feels a bubble of pride rise in his chest at a task well done. He wonders if maybe his handler will let him wash dishes sometimes.


After dishes, his handler isn't back yet and Wilson tells him he can go back to his room if he wants. He feels more tired than he had been expecting after cooking, so he accepts, glad to get the chance to sit quietly for a little bit. While he might appreciate being trained by the Avengers and his handler, it's still a lot of work and a lot of new things to learn, so it's nice not to have to do anything once and a while.

He sits down heavily on the couch and leans his head back, closing his eyes. He still has the slight aftertaste of salt and peanut butter in his mouth and he swallows, running his tongue over his teeth. He hopes Wilson will let him cook again soon.

Maybe they can even make something for his handler to eat.

He opens his eyes and sits up. Yes, that would be nice. His handler needs to eat, he remembers worrying about that a long time ago, when his handler was small. It has got to still be important now, right? He glances over to his handler's room. Sleeping is also probably important, and his handler seems to be having a hard time with that.

He stands up and edges closer to the room, part of him still waiting for JARVIS or somebody to burst in and stop him. JARVIS keeps quiet as he peers around the half-open door, his eyes trained on his handler's impeccably made bed, while his heart pounds loudly away in his chest.

He hadn't gotten in trouble the last time he'd gone into his handler's room, his handler hadn't seemed to mind at all but… he probably shouldn't make a habit of it. What would it look like to his handler if every time he left him alone he found him later, invading his privacy?

Still… something is wrong with his handler's bed. He has trouble sleeping on it and… he's not going to be able to figure out how to fix it if he doesn't know what's wrong in the first place.

He slips inside, careful not to bump the door, his ears straining for any alert from JARVIS. He has to be fast this time, he doesn't know how long he has until his handler comes back, and he absolutely cannot be caught this time.

With that in mind, he loses no time in marching up to the bed and scanning it, searching for any clue as to why his handler would rather sleep on the floor than on top of it. He can't find anything off the bat, and he soon finds himself running his hands carefully over the sheets and looking under the bed, still not completely sure what he's even looking for.

In desperation he checks behind each pillow before sitting dejectedly down on the bed. He sinks down deeper than he had been expecting and he blinks down at the mattress. His handler's bed is soft. Softer than the couch for sure, and he runs his hand over the bedspread again before hesitantly leaning back until his shoulders hit the bed.

He stares up at the ceiling for a moment, breathing in as the bed sinks under him. His handler's bed is definitely softer than the couch in the living room, and the blankets feel thick and warm. It seems comfortable enough, so he can't really understand why his handler seems to be having so much trouble.

He sits up and is almost dizzy as he stands, the softness of the bed suddenly disorientating. He gives his head a shake as he straightens out the sheets where he had been sitting and stands up straight. He may not understand why his handler is having trouble sleeping, but… His eyes narrow and he slips out of the room.

But that doesn't mean he's not going to try to figure out a way to fix it.


AN: I have to admit, the mayonnaise scene is probably one of my favourite things I've ever written, and I had to wait almost THREE months before I could post it for you guys XD.

Bucky: *pulls out mayonnaise*

Sam: 404 Error

Seriously though, bacon, peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwich is a real 30s recipe. They had WEIRD sandwiches back then, let me tell you.

Also, the bacon, peanut butter, and banana sandwich Sam mentioned is called an Elvis sandwich apparently. I found it when looking up my sandwich (Elvis also liked weird sandwiches) but that was invented in the 70s, so Bucky wouldn't know it.