Chapter 25: The Smithsonian

There were perks to being Captain America. Steve made a point of not taking advantage of them too much. There were times like these, however—when he needed an after-hours, metal-detector-free tour of a certain exhibit in the Smithsonian—that those perks came in handy.

"It's such an honor to meet you, Captain," the woman said, shaking his hand. She had a kind face, with deep smile lines, and strawberry blonde hair. She gave Bucky a quick glance, and added, "And your friend, too. You are?" She extended her hand.

Bucky was disguised as much as he could be without being too conspicuous—a hat, sunglasses, and a few days worth of stubble on his jaw. While most people on the street wouldn't likely recognize him, anyone who saw his face every day at the Smithsonian almost certainly would.

Before Steve could answer, Bucky responded, "James."

"Oh, well, nice to meet you." The woman dropped her hand when Bucky kept his in the pockets of the zippered hoodie.

"He's a bit shy," Steve said.

"Oh, well, that's not a problem I have," she said. "Follow me, gentlemen, though I'm sure you know where it is. I have to escort you, but I promise I won't be a bother. I'll just hang back and let you tour memory lane with your friend. We really appreciate your being willing to give a presentation."

"No problem at all." One little promise he made to grease the wheels, for some indefinite time a few months down the line.

They followed her to the Captain America exhibit, and she waved them on. "I'll just be back here checking emails on my phone. Take your time."

They walked by the "Welcome Back, Cap" sign with the quote from President Ellis then onto the pre-serum photograph of Steve above the post-serum one.

Bucky pocketed his sunglasses and leaned close to the exhibit, studying the black and white photos for several moments, then he pulled back and looked at Steve, his brow crinkling.

"Do you remember me like that?" Steve asked, voice low as he pointed to the top photo. "You knew me like that your whole life, since we were kids. . .until the war. I was always smaller than everyone else."

Bucky took a breath and gazed back at the photo. "I remember you small. You got punched."

Steve smiled. Of course, that's what Bucky would remember. "Yeah. A lot."

Bucky looked at Steve again, eyes traveling up and down as if seeing him for the first time. "Two hundred and forty pounds, huh?"

Was that some kind of a crack? "Yeah. Why?" Had he put on weight? He wasn't as physically active these days as he had been in the war. Or maybe he'd lost muscle mass?

Bucky cocked his head and moved on.

"Are you messing with me?" God, he really hoped Bucky was messing with him.

Bucky didn't answer, instead moving on to the sign detailing his tour in Azanno and proclaiming that "Rogers' heroism saved 163 lives—including that of his best friend, Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes."

"It was actually about 400," Steve said, squaring his shoulders and giving a cocky smile, "but 163 from the 107th. The rest were Allied soldiers."

As Bucky read the information, he winced, and Steve figured there was another memory behind that headache.

The videos weren't playing since the museum was closed, and Steve hoped he'd be able to take Bucky back again sometime in the future for the full experience so he could see Peggy and himself in some of the footage.

Bucky moved onto the mannequin display, with the larger-than-life photos of Steve and the Howling Commandos. He stood in front of the Captain America figure for a long time, his head turned up, his gaze on the image of himself, clean-shaven with short hair, wearing the jacket he "died" in.

"On the far right, that's Morita. Then Falsworth, then you, of course," Steve said. "To the left is Dugan, Jones, and Dernier."

The next exhibit was the one they'd really come to see. Bucky stood in front of the glass memorial, eyes focused on the identical pair staring back at him from the past. Steve didn't know when that photo had been taken, only that it was sometime after their escape from the Hydra factor and, of course, before his fall from the train. His expression was all business, his eyes more troubled than they'd been before the war.

Bucky took a breath, his eyes shimmering, then moving to read the inscription.

'When Bucky Barnes first met Steve Rogers on the playgrounds of Brooklyn, little did he know that he was forging a bond that would take him to the battlefields of Europe and beyond.'

"We actually met behind the school, next to the playground," Steve said. "Two boys were beating me up to steal my money. You ran them off. I told you that back at the tower."

"I remember."

Steve didn't know if Bucky meant he remembered that day, or being told before, but given the subtle tremor in his voice, Steve decided not to ask. Their tour guide was keeping her distance, but if this proved too much for Bucky, they'd have to make a quick exit.

Bucky read the longer inscription. The discrepancy in the birthdates bothered Steve, as if Bucky wasn't important enough to pay attention to those little details. He'd have to say something later.

"I was captured by Hydra?" Bucky's eyes were riveted to the text.

"Yes, the first time after Azzano, by the Germans." Steve kept his voice neutral, hoping this wouldn't trigger another flashback. He took a breath. "Then again, by the Russians, during the mission…." something squeezed his insides, just below his breastbone, and let the rest of the words die in his throat.

"The train?" Bucky asked, his gaze fixed to the display.

"Yeah," Steve croaked, still not able to fully trust his voice.

Bucky's head lolled forward, and he rubbed at his temples. Steve's mind went to the CAT scan images, and he tried not to think further about the scarred mass of tissue inside Bucky's skull. Pain was the price Bucky had to pay for every memory he reclaimed. Would it always be that way? Would there ever be a time when he could remember something of his life before Hydra without paying a price?

Steve placed his hand on Bucky's elbow and whispered, "Should we leave?"

Bucky nodded, lifting his head to gaze once more at the image of himself, then turned and headed past the woman, toward the exit.

"Thank you so much," Steve told their guide, shaking her hand quickly. "We've taken up enough of your time. I'll make arrangements for the appearance as soon as I can."

She smiled and nodded, giving Bucky a quizzical glance as he hovered a few feet away, fingers rubbing at his head. "Of course," she said. "I'll walk you out."

-0- -0- -0-

He knew now. Who he was…used to be. His name. His story. Where he came from. What it looked like. Faces. Names. They rolled around in his head—facts, dates, images—stirring things inside of him but never staying still long enough to take shape.

Steve sat down on the steps of the museum next to him. "I know it's a lot to take in." He sighed, a long, heavy breath that spoke of loss. "It hurts you when you remember, doesn't it?"

"It always hurts, sometimes more than others." Pain was something he couldn't remember acknowledging. It was simply there, sometimes soft as a whisper in the background, other times all rage and profanation, demanding submission.

"I'd like to help change that." Steve leaned in, his arm brushing against Bucky's. "I know you don't remember how close we used to be. We were brothers, even closer in many ways because we saved each other. You saved me so many times, both before the war and during. So, I'm going to ask you a question, and if the answer is no, or not yet, that's okay. I just want an honest answer."

Bucky knew what the question was. He wasn't sure how he knew. Maybe there was something deep inside him that remembered Steve enough to know what he wanted. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

Steve looked at him and blinked, chin tilting up in a surprise as a smile danced on his lips. "Thank you. If you trust me, then I hope you'll trust the people I do."

It came back to that. Steve wanted to return to the Tower, the most obvious place for Hydra to look.

"We don't have to go back to the Tower. I'm sure Stark can arrange somewhere else. We need resources, you know, and as annoying as Tony Stark is, he has resources…enough to rival Hydra even. He was able to bypass SHIELD security and gain access to their computer systems. He can do things that, frankly, seem a lot like magic." He chuckled, hollow and sad. "Most of this world seemed like magic when I first woke up. I'm still getting used to it."

Bucky pondered the offer. It was unfair to keep Steve on the run, and he was right about their need for resources, but every instinct told him to run. Run. Run far, far away. Find a hole so deep no one would ever find him, hurt him, or use him ever again.

"If your answer is no," Steve added. "I'll leave it at that. We'll go wherever you want, but we still probably need to contact Stark. We'll need IDs, money, things like that."

He could get IDs and money. He knew the location of several HYDRA safehouses, but if something went wrong and Hydra got their hands on him and Steve, they could wipe them both. The Avengers were useful, but not as competent as Steve thought.

"Hydra already captured you and the Avengers once. They can do it again."

"Point," Steve conceded. "They took us by surprise. We didn't know Hydra was SHIELD or just how deep it all went. We do now. Also, they didn't take Bruce, and there's a reason for that."

"Yeah, I read about him. There was footage on Sitwell's laptop."

"What, uh, happened to Sitwell?" Steve asked, his tone had an air of forced casualness.

"I left him tied in a closet. Maybe he got out. Maybe not. Probably eventually."

"You didn't kill him?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I don't know." That was the truth. Killing was what he did. There was no reason to keep Sitwell alive but also no reason to kill him.

"You never liked killing. It bothered you in the war," Steve said.

"I've killed a lot of people."

"You don't have to anymore."

That statement shifted something small and tight inside him, releasing an ache in his chest that made him shiver. He sucked in a deep breath, then another, before finally coming to a decision.

"Okay. We'll contact Stark, but we do it my way."

"Okay, your way it is." Steve sighed, then smiled. "Thank you, because, frankly, traveling incognito with the shield is a challenge, and I'm kind of attached to it. It comes in handy."

Bucky couldn't argue with any of that. It was difficult finding places to stash their bags and the shield. Theft was always a concern, and they couldn't walk around with two large bags and Steve's shield without drawing attention to themselves. Though Hydra had never let him utilize the handheld devices, he knew they were multi-purpose communication and surveillance devices that every person had on them at all times. The devices could be tracked and be used to track others via photos, videos, location tagging, and facial recognition.

"So, what's your way?" Steve asked.

-0- -0- -0-

"I'm telling you, he's fine," Bruce said. "Okay, maybe not fine, but trust him to handle Barnes. Besides, Barnes saved you, remember?"

Tony glanced away from the projected list of SHIELD personnel that JARVIS had sorted into clearance categories, with the most trustworthy being "probably safe" and the least categorized as "Hydra assholes."

Bruce was suddenly really close, arms folded, chin out as he studied the list.

"Captain Fabulous gets kidnapped by Hydra's most elite assassin, and you think he's fine?" Tony countered, taking a step away. He was still jittery after his trip to space. It would wear off eventually he hoped, but being kidnapped hadn't helped his anxiety. "Look, I get it that Bucky boy was his best friend, but the guy's not exactly firing on all thrusters these days."

"I spent some time with him, you know."

"Yeah, thanks for that."

Bruce waved dismissively. "You should thank Barnes."

"Didn't he kind of kidnap you and Falcon?"

Bruce eyed Tony skeptically over the rim of his glasses.

"Okay, okay!" Tony flung a hand and killed the display. "So maybe kidnap is too strong a word since the Big Guy didn't make an appearance until later, but you took the scans, showed them to us. Mr. Roboto is hardly stable."

Bruce sighed. "He's more stable than I would've imagined."

"Sir," Jarvis' voice interrupted, "you have a flower delivery at the front desk."

Flowers? Was this a Pepper thing? Had he forgotten something? A date? Anniversary? She'd probably put a sarcastic note on the flowers, or maybe somehow this was her way of getting back at him for the 12% remark. What could she do with flowers? Pollen? Little larvae bugs that would hatch and….

"Who are they from, Jarvis?"

"No sender was identified."

Hydra trap?

"Secret admirer?" Bruce asked.

"Maybe they're hate flowers?" Tony said, but his curiosity was definitely piqued. "Guess I'll find out."

He didn't want them being brought up, not if Pepper had booby trapped them. Best to check them out downstairs. How'd she even find flowers? Most of the local shops were still in clean up and rebuilding mode. Then again, New Yorkers were nothing if not resilient.

Bruce followed him down the elevator. The flowers were on the front reception desk. The young man—what was his name? Jeffrey? James? Tony eyed the nametag surreptitiously. Joseph!– straightened, clicked alt-tab quickly on his keyboard, and pointed to the flowers.

"For you, Mr. Stark," the receptionist said.

"Thanks. Find any good cat videos?" Tony asked as he snatched the card from the bouquet. White heathers was an odd choice of foliage, for sure.

He read the card.'To the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist: Thanks for lunch. Let's do it again sometime.'

"So, who's it from?" Bruce asked.

Tony looked up. "An old flame. Really old." He looked at his watch. Eleven a.m. Looks like he'd be having Shawarma for lunch, if he read the ridiculous and unnecessarily cryptic message correctly.

Paranoid much, Cap? Okay, so maybe the guy had reasons, but it was downright insulting that he didn't trust Tony's security protocols. After the little infiltration—and it was a very little infiltration, one small Hydra double agent before they really knew the full extent of Hydra's intrusion—the Tower's security was topper than notch. An ant couldn't get in without Jarvis knowing, and Tony's new cell phone was literally one of a kind. Handcrafted with loving care, operated solely by satellite, totally secure.

Not that fossil-Cap knew anything about that. So, instead, he'd sent flowers, as if this were some cheesy 60's spy thriller.

Tony slapped Bruce on the shoulder. "Wanna get lunch?" It couldn't hurt to have a Hulk along, just in case.

-0- -0- -0-

The Shawarma place was still in the midst of repairs but nevertheless open for business. Steve and Bucky were at a table in the back, both of them seated to have a clear view of the door. Their gear and the shield were shoved against the wall, out of the way.

The first and only time he'd had Shawarma was after the battle of New York. He'd never heard of it before, but it surprised him. For something as simple as meat wrapped in flatbread and drizzled with some kind of yogurt sauce and crumbly cheese, it was delicious.

It probably wouldn't sit well with Bucky. The pancakes had stayed down, but not without putting up a fight. Bucky was staring at the menu as if it contained ancient hieroglyphics he needed to decipher.

"It might be too rich for your stomach." Steve pointed to one of the menu items. "Maybe try some rice and chicken? Or the soup?"

Bucky peered at Steve with eyes that looked very much insulted.

Was he being too much of a mother hen? Steve was still trying to get the hang of interacting with Bucky, walking the line between giving him direction, which he often seemed to need, and letting him make his own decisions, something he hadn't been allowed to do for a long time.

"Just a suggestion," Steve said. "If you throw up, well, at least we're not on a rollercoaster. Just do it away from me."

Bucky's brow crinkled, and Steve could almost see the thoughts playing behind his gaze. Almost. The reference had made a connection.

"They're here." Bucky said.

"Where, I don't see–" Oh.

The door swung open, and two familiar figures breezed inside. He'd never admit it out loud, but sometimes this new version of Bucky was kind of creepy.

Tony wore his bracelets. Good, though Steve hoped they wouldn't be needed. According to Bucky, if Hydra followed Tony here, they'd be on surveillance mode. They wouldn't risk a public confrontation with multiple Avengers.

"So I looked it up," Tony plopped down in chair, "apparently white heather signifies protection. Subtle." He leaned back and looked Steve up and down. "Good to see you alive, Cap."

"And you, too, Barnes." Bruce slid into the remaining chair. "I wanted to come back to this place." He eyed Tony. "You could have said something."

"What, and spoil the surprise?" Tony eyed Bucky and jerked his head toward Bruce. "He's your biggest fan, you know. Said you're not a total loose cannon."

"That's, uh, not what I said."

Tony waved a hand in the air and rolled his eyes. "Semantics."

Bucky leveled that unwavering gaze at Tony, staying silent for so long that Steve was about to break the silence with a suggestion to order, when Bucky said, "I don't have a cannon, just a rifle modified with a grenade launcher."

Tony blinked, jaw going slack and, when his eyes darted to Steve, they held all kinds of questions.

Bruce laughed.

"That was a joke?" Tony looked back to Bucky. "Was it? Because it's kind of hard to tell with you. You know that, right?"

Steve smiled until he considered that Bucky might not actually be joking. He lowered his voice as he leaned in and asked, "You don't actually have a grenade launcher, do you?"

Bucky looked at him. "It wouldn't fit in the bag."

Steve had to agree with Tony. It was hard to tell if Bucky was joking. These days, at least. Before, he could always tell. Hell, Bucky was rarely 100% serious before the war. After going to war, he became noticeably more serious.

But if Bucky was joking—that was a big if since he might be completely serious—that was something to be excited about. It meant maybe, just maybe, a little bit of the old Bucky was poking through.

"So, you know we're not incognito right?" Tony said, just as the proprietor walked up, a huge smile on his face, and asked if they'd decided.

"Shwarmas all around?" Tony perked up, waving a finger around the table.

"Rice and chicken, plain," Bucky said, flashing a look at Steve that made him instantly suppress his smile.

"So, you're working your way up to solid foods?" Bruce asked.

When the proprietor left, Tony leaned forward. "What was with the flowers? You couldn't just call me with a burner phone?"

"Phones are traceable," Bucky said.

"Mine aren't," Stark said. "I'll cut you slack because you were born when people were still sending telegraphs. So, instead, the four of us are here, in public," he waved at some girls smiling at them through the window, "drawing all sorts of attention. Want me to post a check-in on social media? Do a live streaming?"

"Exactly," Steve said. "That's why we're here. It's public. I wanted to let you know I'm fine. Bucky and I are going to head out of the country for a bit. We could use cash and fake identification."

"You're what?" Tony shook his head. "Nope! Nope! Not gonna do it. You want my help, let me help. Come back to the Tower. I'll put you next to Bruce, lock down the floor, no one gets in or out but Avengers and a very small group of people who have been so thoroughly vetted by Jarvis, they'll probably end up suing me."

Steve figured Tony would react just this way, but he hoped he could make his intention clear. He slid his foot beneath the table until it touched Tony's shoe, just enough to be noticeably intentional. "I can't put you in that position, Tony. I'm not asking you to lay down on the wire, just to cut it, and I sure as hell wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. We'll do it without your help, but it would be a lot easier with it."

"Okaaay…but I can do better." Tony tilted his head, gaze darting quickly between Steve and Bucky, and the look in his eyes told Steve he was figuring it out. "How about a private jet, anywhere you want to go?" Tony asked. "That'll sure make getting through airport security a helluva lot easier, wouldn't you say?" Tony jerked his head toward Bucky's covered metal arm.

Steve nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, Tony. We'll take you up on that offer."