He looked down to where she had pulled the bandaging back, and felt his gut sink. Where the bullet hole had been was a small, round span of bright pink scarring, still raw and fresh, but very much sealed over. He yanked his trousers back up.

Kat looked a little pale, and swallowed. This was a big secret. There was no question about it. "I won't say anything."

He sat there, feeling vaguely ill. He'd wondered. Of course he had. How not? But to have it confirmed that whatever they had done to him had stuck... What else would it do? What else was inside of him?

Eventually he focused on what she had said. "You should report it," he pointed out. "If you don't it will drag you down whenever it comes out."

She shook her head. "No. No one has to know you were shot. I never saw this. Rogers won't be the one to tattle."

"Fuck... He has to know," Bucky muttered, rubbing his eyes. "No way around that one... That's three of us..."

"Three of us and no one else," she nodded, looking somewhere into the middle space between them, lost in thought. "I don't... Want to say this. But keep bringing me on these. Not Dr. Herman, not Debbie. They can't know."

He let out a weak sort of laugh. "No need, right? I'll just heal."

She nodded. "We'll see if this scars. If it doesn't, you're in the clear. Just don't let them take any blood. Or samples." She paused, thinking, seeing if there was anything she had missed. "God this would be easier if I was a man."

He raised an eyebrow as he redid his belt. "How so...?"

"I could take control of the medical team here, stop anything from getting higher. I can't do that as a nurse. A doctor, yes." She sighed, running a hand through her hair.

He nodded slightly. "Right... Well... We'll do what we can," he said quietly, standing up. "Let's get packed."

She nodded back and turned to start doing just that. Steve came to help a few minutes later, having taken care of the cooking equipment.

He took one glance at Bucky and knew something was wrong - it took more than one glance to determine that Kat was just as upset, but he figured it out. He cleared his throat about halfway through taking down the tent, and said, "So is one of you going to tell me what's wrong, or am I going to have to put on my Captain voice?"

"Not the dance hall. Your captain voice doesn't make anybody swoon," Bucky shot back with a half-hearted grin, tying off the bag of tent pegs.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Kat muttered under her breath - probably too quiet for the average person to hear. Steve heard it just fine, and stifled a smile.

"Not about swooning - it's about solving problems."

Bucky was quiet for a few minutes as he lashed tent poles together. Finally he said, "Bullet hole healed up."

Steve froze, crouched on the ground, the tent canvas half rolled up. His eyes went to Kat first, when he did move, and she was looking back at him with a face that confirmed she knew this new, grim knowledge. He looked to Bucky, and for once struggled to read what the other man was thinking. He could make a couple educated guesses, but this was so far out of left field... "I'm sure it doesn't need to be said," he started, moving again, his hands sure and steady as he rolled up the canvas, "But this doesn't leave this forest. None of the others need to know. Not yet, at least."

Bucky finished tying up the tent poles to his pack. "We need to talk about it, Steve. Covering this up might not be the smartest idea."

Steve took a deep breath and stood, hoisting the bag up onto his back. "Buck, if they know that another serum succeeded, they'll want to know if they can replicate it. They would pull you off the front lines and stick you in a lab until they figured out whether or not they could make another one of you."

Kat cleared her throat a little, looking at Bucky. "For as long as we don't report it, we have plausible deniability. If you don't scar, that is. If you do, well..." she looked over at Steve. "Then we might have to report it."

"Steve," Bucky said, ignoring Kat for the moment, catching his friend's gaze. "We don't know what they did to me. We don't. That's the bottom line. What happens if I'm compromised at the wrong moment?"

Steve's hands went to his hips, a muscle in his jaw jumping. "Compromised how? Like an implant?" He turned, running a hand over his hair and looking out over the ridge for a moment, hand falling back to his hip. "Are you willing to risk spending the rest of your life in some lab? Or becoming as big a target as me? Buck, please - at least wait until the war is over. Wait until they can't say they need you."

"We have no idea how long that will be," he retorted. "If we end up in the middle of some gun fight I'm sure as hell not..." He trailed off, glancing at Kat, and sighed. "We'll talk about it later. Let's get back. We don't have a lot of time."

Steve let out an unhappy sigh but nodded, gathering up his share of the bags without another word. Kat followed his lead, cognizant that this wasn't exactly her business, and aware she should stay out of it unless they asked. It was up to her to keep the secret as long as they asked, and that was it.

The walk back was blessedly quiet. Bucky mostly followed Steve and Kat's pathbreaking, doing his best not to limp. Sealed up or no, clearly the wound hadn't fully healed, and every step sent sharp pain down his thighbone and up into his side. Despite his determination not to let it slow him down, it still did, but he practiced walking normally anyway. He would need to hide the injury once they returned to camp.

Morita picked them up without incident, and tried and failed to strike up a decent conversation with any of them. He seemed to guess something wasn't right, but Morita had a good sense about when to let things lie. He was a good peacemaker. They arrived at camp and Steve dismissed Kat; she went back to the infirmary tent and met up with Debbie, who talked long and fast about her experience on her mission. Kat was relieved to not have to talk.

Bucky stood by dutifully while Steve debriefed, but as soon as he was relieved he headed out of the camp toward the river a quarter mile away or so. He wanted to wash off the grime and try to rest his leg.

It was an hour or two later that Steve found him, out of his suit and back to army standards for the moment. "Lucky for the snow, otherwise I might have misplaced you again," he said as he walked up, hands in his pockets.

Bucky was sitting on his pack, holding a snowpack against his hip. "The water's freezing, if you were considering a bath. It'll turn you straight into a woman."

Steve laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure it will. Wasn't really planning on it, though. Just was lookin' for you."

He scooted over, making a little room on the pack. "Come on then. Don't get the star spangled ass wet."

"You're really never going to get over that, huh?" He smirked, stepping over a small rock to sit next to Bucky. It was a tight squeeze: shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. Once upon a time he would have fit easily. Now? Well, no one could blame two fellas for not wanting their asses to be wet from the snow.

"Wasn't planning on it, no. Whoever designed that thing had an eye toward showing you off," he smirked, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees.

"I'll admit, the booty shorts were a little much," he chuckled, mimicking the other man's posture without thinking in a way that had been ingrained into him since they'd met. His Ma had always said that she'd never seen a pair of boys so in tune with each other. They fought, sure; everyone does occasionally. But it wasn't the same. "The new one is a little less tight. And no booty shoots. That's a win in my book."

"The new one is what I was referring to," he laughed. "That first one was a trainwreck," He nudged Steve's shoulder with his own.

"I like the new one!" He protested, grinning, and knowing quite well that out of the two of them, he was not the fashion expert. Dressing up to impress girls had never been quite realistic for him, and he'd known it. "It makes me target, but that's not completely a bad thing. Means the rest of you aren't getting shot at as much."

"When did I say I objected to you being shown off?" Bucky retorted. "You being a bigger target, though, that I could do without."

He shrugged. "Comes with the territory. S'what I signed up for, isn't it? I know it's what you were fighting me against, but..." he sighed, shaking his head a little. "I don't think I regret it. Not yet, at least."

"Yeah. Well." He shifted, picking up some more snow for his hip and packing it into place. He was freezing, but it hurt less.

Steve watched him pack the snow, and slowly became aware of the barely-noticeable vibration traveling through Bucky's side and into him. "You cold, jerk?"

"No," he muttered, hunching over again. "Are you?"

Yeah," he lied easily, slinging an arm around Bucky's shoulders. "Fuckin' freezing."

"Liar," he muttered, leaning into Steve's warm side. "It's still bizarre how big you are. You were such a twink before."

Steve nearly choked on his own spit he started laughing so hard, throwing his head back and holding onto Bucky's shoulder to keep from knocking him off the pack. "God, like the dock workers calling me that wasn't enough, you too?"

Bucky laughed too, elbowing Steve gently in the ribs. "So tell me, cap, did everything get bigger?"

Steve blushed all the way to his ear tips, and coughed a little, reaching up to rub his face. "It's ah," he half-laughed, half-coughed, his face bright red, "Ah, proportional, I guess. Chafing has.. ah, become a problem for the first time."

Bucky laughed, reaching up to take Steve's jaw and tug him around to look at him. "Good to know," he said, grinning. "I look forward to finding out first hand when we have a chance."

Steve shook his head with a laugh and leaned forward to close the distance between them, kissing Bucky solidly, the arm wrapped around his shoulders pulling him in tight.

Bucky pressed up against him, half to kiss him properly, half to steal his warmth- how was he warm, the bastard? He relaxed a little, tense and knotted muscles relaxing a bit. This was familiar. Safe. This was too many beers and a little curiosity one night when they were thirteen. This was furtive and silent in his bedroom when his parents were out. This was stolen moments, strength and reassurance and nothing complicated. This wasn't war.

In retrospect, Steve should have known that it was a risky thing to do - they weren't all that far from camp, and it wouldn't have been completely out of character for any of the men to follow with a whiskey in hand and a request to play cards. He should have heard the footsteps earlier. But Bucky was there, and he was still battling back fear for him, and they hadn't had an opportunity to touch each other like this since before Bucky enlisted-

The creaky crunch of a foot sinking into cold snow shattered the moment, Steve pulling back like he'd been shocked, head whipping around. Kat stood ten feet away, a shotgun resting on her shoulder, her cheeks red from the cold and embarrassment. Her green eyes were wide with surprise, and Steve stood without thinking, the blush back in full force on his face.

Bucky looked over his shoulder, and this wasn't war. This was Steve, getting into trouble again. He stood, the snow falling from his lap, the pain in his leg forgotten. He walked forward, a restraining hand on Steve's shoulder, assuming control of the situation. "Ms. Lewis," he said. He was perfectly casual, eyeing her, waiting.

She lifted the hand that wasn't holding the shotgun a little in greeting, still looking like she didn't quite know what to do. What was one supposed to do in this situation? Report them, probably, but that wasn't her. Her parents had raised her to mind her own business, as long as what other people were doing wasn't hurting anybody else. Looking for something to say, she gestured to the shotgun. "Dugan gave me it. In case of bears. Boars are more likely, I think, but... yeah," she said, shrugging slightly. Her cheeks were still pink. She cleared her throat a little, then jacked a thumb back over her shoulder. "I'm.. gonna go back to camp." She'd only made the walk in the first place because she'd wanted to make sure that Barnes didn't resent her for finding out his secret. She started to turn, and Steve took a step forward, and she stopped.

"Miss Lewis-" he started, in his certified captain voice, and she gave him a pained smile and shook her head a little.

"I won't say anything. Not my business. Try not to let Debbie catch you, though, she's a gossip." Kat replied as steadily as she could manage, then made to leave again, face burning still.

Bucky blinked, watching her walk away. What else could they do?

He turned to Steve. "Odds that we're completely fucked?"

Steve let out a long breath, hands going to his hips, still watching her quickly disappear back down the river, and shook his head a little. "I don't know, Buck."

He nodded just slightly, and rubbed his hands together. "Well, nothing we can do about it now. I'm gonna go try and get warm." He started back toward camp slowly.

They moved camps two days later, this time close to the border, near a village so small no army was interested in it. Dugan had the idea of visiting the small local bar, and with a little convincing they pulled the nurses and Dr. Herman with them and crowded into the bar. Steve had discussed with Bucky in hushed tones on the drive taking Lewis to the side to talk to her. They needed to make sure she wouldn't say anything, now that she'd had time to sit on the information.

The bar was surprisingly lively for a little town, with drinks pouring steadily and a dance going on in an adjoining hall. Bucky ordered a trio of beers and handed one to Steve, before looking around to find Kat. He saw her across the way, adjusting to the atmosphere, and wove through the carousing locals toward her. He slid up beside her, and held out the beer.

"Oh! Hey, Barnes - thanks," she smiled, taking the beer with a nod of thanks. It had been a while since she'd been dancing, and considering she was a familiar woman, several of these men were going to ask her to dance tonight. And she was out of practice. The beer was thus very welcome.

He nodded, sipping his own and eyeing the revelry. "Don't suppose I could offer you a dance later?"

She almost looked surprised, given what she'd stumbled upon, but her face only twitched slightly before she managed a smile again. She'd been doing her best not to dwell on it. It would be better for all of them if she forgot, after all. "I don't know, are you a good dancer? I think I'm already looking at a dance full of crushed toes for the dance I promised Falsworth," she smirked, sipping her beer.

"I'm an excellent dancer," he said, giving her a broad smile. "At least I was before these horrendous boots bruised my feet all to hell. Why don't we find out if I'm still as good as I hope?"

She came a little closer to spilling the beer he'd given her than she liked to admit, but she took two big chugs and then put it down on the nearest surface. For a man who presumably didn't care for women, he certainly hid it well. She remembered the girls from the 107th talking about him, and suddenly she wondered. None of your business, remember? her head reminded her. She held out a hand to him and gave him a crooked smile. "Show me what you got, Barnes."

He laughed, setting his own beer next to hers, and taking her hand, walking through the bar toward the dance floor. "And what do I get if I do?" he asked with a playful glance.

She blushed slightly, despite herself, and cleared her throat, weaving through the crowd behind him. "Don't have much to offer ya, if I'm being honest. Anything you had in mind?"

"I'll have to think about it," he chuckled as they stepped out onto the floor and he pulled her gracefully into the fray. He was a good dancer, immediately, and it was daunting for five seconds before she realized all she had to do was keep up and he'd make her look good, so she fell into step and went with the rhythm.

He waited until they had grown accustomed to each other's movements before he leaned down and spoke quietly. "Ms. Lewis... I wanted to speak to you about the other day."

She faltered, almost missing a step, and felt her face get hot. "I said I wouldn't say anything, Sergeant, and I meant it," she said just as quietly, doing her best to keep her face from looking too embarrassed. There were plenty of reasons for a girl to blush during a dance, but if it looked like she was having a bad time somebody would try to save her.

He spun her artfully out of the press, toward a cooler breeze from a nearby door. "I wanted to be sure. I regret that you had to see that."

They ended up standing in the open doorway of the back of the bar, their backs brushing opposite sides of the door frame, mostly in darkness. The shadows hit the angles of his face in a way that made her wish she could draw just so she could capture it by memory later. "Nothing to be sorry about, Barnes, not on your end. I'm sorry. I probably don't need to be, but I am." She stepped back a little, into the door frame, and tilted her chin towards the reveling crowd. "You can tell Rogers I'm not saying anything."

He smiled just a little. "He'll appreciate it," he agreed, leaning down to kiss her cheek, lingering for just a moment before he straightened. "And so do I."

She felt her stomach do about three good, solid flips, and her cheeks lit up like flames. She knew it didn't mean anything, but there was only so much that her fragile heart could take. She took a second to remind herself that she was not fragile and she would slap herself to prove it if she needed to. "Thanks for the dance, Barnes," she said instead, smiling a little.

He gave her an easy smile back, expression warm. "Maybe we can do it again sometime soon."

"Don't get my hopes up, huh? I know I'm just gonna be stuck with Falsworth and the rest tripping on me for the rest of the night," she retorted, waving a hand at him scoldingly. God, did he even know what he was doing? He had to - that was his game, wasn't it?

"Well, then, be sure to let me know if your feet need rescuing," he offered with a wink, before bowing to kiss her hand, and slipping back out into the party.

She stood in the doorway for another minute or two, just allowing the blush in her cheeks to fade to a reasonable level, and then rejoined the crowd.

A/N

Hey guys! Comments would be greatly appreciated! Love to know how yall think!