Inhale. "Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of-" Interrupted by a cough. Inhale again. "The 107th in-" Another cough. This time something comes up. Pause long enough to swallow. It tastes like blood. "Infantry, 32557." A few breaths this time. It's getting harder to breathe. "Sergeant James…"

"Bucky!" That was Steve. He could swear Steve was calling him. But Steve was in Brooklyn, safe. Far from the dangers of the war. He shouldn't be hearing Steve. Ignore it, then. It isn't real. Wouldn't be the first time.

"Buchanan Barnes of the 107th…" He continued to murmur.

"Bucky!" Steve's voice was much closer this time, and felt too real to just be a hallucination. Bucky forced his eyes open and saw…

"Steve?" He asked. It was Steve and it wasn't. This Steve was bigger; more muscular and filled out. Healthier. Still handsome, just in a more masculine way. But his eyes were the same wonderful blue. Bucky had forgotten about the little flecks of green until he saw them again. His hair was still that same soft gold, though shorter now.

"Yeah, Buck. I'm right here." Steve promised. Bucky believed him. The blond was studying something on his torso, but he didn't want to look away from Steve's face to see what it was. His friend grabbed the fabric straps keeping him bound to the table before he ripped them clean off. "I thought you were dead."

Bucky just blinked. There were a thousand questions about what was happening swirling through his head, enough it made him dizzy. Well, dizzier, especially when Steve helped him to sit up then pulled him to his feet. "I thought you were smaller." He finally replied, which got a smile from Steve as the blond guided Bucky's arm over his shoulder.

"Come on." Steve encouraged as he helped Bucky to stay balanced. The whole room was listing side to side under his feet like he was on a ship.

"What happened?" Bucky finally asked as they left the horrible experiment room and entered a long hallway that seemed to expand and sway as he stared down it.

"I joined the army." Steve answered.

That wasn't right. Bucky had been through the training too and as tough as it was it they wouldn't have been able to turn his little Stevie into this version of him. So Steve must have allowed them to do something to him. "Did it hurt?" Bucky asked as he gently pulled away from his friend's support. It wasn't that he didn't want it (or need it given how he immediately almost stumbled into a wall) but they'd move faster.

"A little." Steve was too busy looking out for something to notice, but Bucky was staring. He was still trying to reconcile all the little details he knew about small Steve with new Steve. And one was definitely how terrible of a liar he still was. But they could address that issue later.

"Is it permanent?" Bucky questioned.

"So far." Steve wasn't upset, but his breathless answer gave Bucky the impression his attention was elsewhere so he let it go. Survival first, lecturing Steve about self preservation later. So he focused on keeping up with Steve, which was a strange turn.

Usually he was the one slowing down to keep pace with Steve, but now Steve was practically bouncing with the desire to go faster. Bucky had little doubt the blond could have mapped out their entire route before he made it to the end of the hallway. He wanted to go faster, he really did, but as quickly as he was recovering he didn't think he could run yet without falling flat on his face. And he wasn't inclined to test it.

The building shook, at least Bucky was pretty sure the building shook and it wasn't his body rebelling, just as they entered the factory on one of the second floor catwalks. The whole ground floor was littered with enormous fires and there were even flaming pieces raining from the ceiling. They paused, Bucky trying to catch his breath and Steve trying to find the best path. "Steve, I'm only slowing you down. You should go." He insisted.

"Not a chance." Was the immediate response.

"Steve, go. Get out while you can." Bucky insisted and finally his friend turned to look at him. Bucky was taken aback for a moment at the almost anger in his expression. Steve stepped closer to him and took Bucky's right arm, pulling up his sleeve to expose the words there. 'I'm with you'. The first half of the phrase that would supposedly mean everything to him and his soulmate. He hadn't thought much about them before because the only soulmate he wanted was Steve, except Steve didn't have any words.

The blond let go of his arm and pulled up his own sleeve. 'to the end of the line.', clear as day, elegantly written in the same red ink as Bucky's. "Don't ask me to leave you." Steve whispered, pleaded. Bucky ran his fingers over the letters on his… soulmate's arm. They didn't smear and he wasn't dreaming. Somehow, Steve had become his soulmate. No… Steve had always been; he just didn't have the mark for some reason. Bucky had never been particularly religious, but he was definitely thanking God for keeping then both alive long enough to have this chance.

"How disgustingly pure." The sudden voice startled both him and Steve. Immediately the blond positioned himself between Bucky and the two men standing on the walkway on the opposite side of the room, his shield raised defensively. Bucky couldn't help flinching at the sight of the shorter one. Arnim Zola. A name and face that would certainly haunt him for the rest of his life. "As expected of the American hero, Captain."

"Schmidt!" Steve started across the bridge to approach the man and Bucky wanted to follow, he really did, but seeing Zola had shaken him and he was clinging to the railing just to stay upright.

Schmidt looked Steve over from head to toe and didn't even take a step away from the blond as he approached. "So Dr. Erskine managed it after all. Not exactly an improvement, but still impressive." Schmidt said and Steve punched him, hard. Hard enough he stumbled back.

"You've got no idea." Steve warned. Bucky swallowed, his eyes flicking quickly between the pair as the tension in the air was practically palpable.

"Haven't I?" Schmidt asked before he returned the favor and swung at Steve. Bucky flinched, but Steve blocked it with his shield. But Schmidt left a dent in the metal and that made Bucky worry. Because he didn't know if Steve was strong enough to dent metal like that, even with his new body. Their fight was more of a scuffle and Steve was just getting the upper hand, knocking Schmidt backwards, when Zola suddenly moved.

Bucky grabbed the railing tighter as Zola pulled a lever, but all it did was cause the bridge on which the two were fighting to split in half. Separating Steve from Schmidt. Schmidt was rubbing his jaw and there was something odd about the way his skin hung from his face. "No matter what Erskine told you I was his greatest success!" Schmidt called before he suddenly grabbed his skin and ripped off the... mask? Bucky really hoped it was a mask.

Bucky could only stare. The man's face was skeletal and red underneath. He looked entirely inhuman. "You don't have one of those do you?" He asked Steve softly, unable to even take his eyes off Schmidt. Steve didn't have time to answer before Schmidt spoke again.

"You are deluded, Captain. You pretend to be a simple soldier, but in reality you are just afraid to admit that we have left humanity behind. Unlike you, I embrace it proudly. Without fear!" Schmidt declared as he and Zola moved towards an open door.

"Then how come you're running?" Steve called back. Schmidt only smirked before he entered and the door closed behind them.

Another explosion rocked the building, but Bucky felt steadier on his feet. Marginally. Steve stepped up next to him and they started for the stairs. Bucky flinched when the flames leapt up suddenly, almost right in front of him and Steve grabbed him, pulling him back easily. The blond looked around the room rapidly before he saw something.

"Up, go up." Steve insisted as he pushed Bucky towards the stairs. The brunet had to use the railing to keep himself going. Another blast made him stumble, but he recovered quickly (especially since Steve helped steady him). And then they made it to the floor above and Bucky was able to see what Steve had. A gantry that spanned the distance between the two bridges.

"Alright, go. One at a time." Steve insisted. Bucky wanted to argue, but Steve was already lifting him over the railing. He moved across carefully but as quickly as he dared. Multiple explosions nearly sent him falling and a glance down said that would only result in death. It looked like a sea of fire beneath his feet.

He was just past halfway when the whole thing suddenly dropped a few inches. It was coming loose from its moorings. Bucky took a moment to find his balance and took a few more steps before it happened again, falling further. He ran. He had to leap the last few feet and collided with the metal railing of the other catwalk hard enough it took his breath away, but he hadn't fallen. He swung over the railing and glanced down. The whole gentry had fallen away, claimed by the fire, and there was nothing for Steve to use to get across.

"There's gotta be a rope or something!" He shouted as he started looking around almost frantically for one. For anything. But there was nothing nearby. Nothing that he could use to help Steve… help his soulmate across. Another explosion rocked the whole building and a glance at the cracks appearing in the ceiling and walls said the building's lifespan was not much longer.

"Just go! Get out of here!" Steve suddenly shouted and Bucky whirled around to face him, grabbing the railing tightly like that would help somehow.

"No!" He was pissed Steve would even think to suggest that. There was no chance in hell Bucky was leaving him behind. "Not without you!"

Steve faltered. He looked ready to argue, but didn't. Instead he let out a breath and started pushing on the metal bars that had been bent out when the gentry had fallen. Moving them out of the way. Bucky gripped the metal tighter, because was Steve crazy?! Did he really think he could make that jump?! Steve had stepped back and taken a flying leap even before Bucky could say a word about it being suicide.

For a moment he thought maybe. Maybe Steve would make it. But then it because obvious he wasn't. Bucky could see it. So he leapt over the railing and held onto it with one hand as he stretched the other out towards Steve. And thankfully caught him. Bucky couldn't help crying out as Steve pulled him downward, and pulled his shoulder from it's socket with a small pop. He managed to keep his grip on the railing with his other hand, barely, but both his knees had buckled and slid under the lower part of the railing while his ribs impacted the metal walkway. Which actually helped him, because it meant he wasn't trying to hold up Steve with only his own strength and most of his body was supported by the catwalk instead. Bucky took a small breath and tried to lift Steve up.

He knew it wasn't going to happen almost instantly. He wasn't strong enough yet to basically dead lift Steve with one arm, let alone one with a now dislocated shoulder. He abandoned the effort and caught a glimpse of Steve's face. The blond was concerned, obviously. "Bucky, let go. I'll drag you down with me." Steve insisted desperately and Bucky shook his head as he grit his teeth. No chance in hell was he letting go.

He considered it quickly and, after adjusting the angle, then started swinging Steve side to side. The first swing hurt, but after the suffering he'd had the last few days it was nothing. It took a few attempts to get his soulmate high enough but then Steve was able to get a hand on the railing. Steve let go and pulled himself up quickly while Bucky slumped a little.

"Buck, come on." Steve insisted as the building shook again. Bucky nodded and wiggled under the railing because he doubted he could get himself up and over it. Steve helped him to his feet as soon as he was safely on the catwalk and Bucky had to rely on him to stay upright as he fought the dizziness plaguing him. Almost before he could recover Steve was moving, helping him along.

Bucky was still in a daze as they made it outside. There was still fighting going on here, between the 107th and the HYDRA goons, but it was fairly obvious who was winning. Steve took out a few nearby enemies and Bucky swiped a two-handed gun from one of them. He couldn't hold it properly, not with his shoulder dislocated, but it was better than being unarmed.

"You made it!" A familiar voice called and Bucky looked up to see Falsworth in the gunner's seat of a tank. He had been addressing Steve but paused when he saw Bucky. "Sergeant! Glad you're okay!" He added and Bucky smiled. He was glad to see his friend was okay too.

"We need to go!" Steve shouted up as he moved into an easy jog to keep pace with the moving tank and Falsworth nodded. Bucky took the moment, since Steve was distracted, to pop his shoulder back into place before he quickly hurried after them. It didn't hurt nearly as much as he thought it should.

"We were on our way to blast open the gate now." Falsworth informed Steve.

"Excellent. Let's go!" Steve ordered loudly, loud enough his voice carried even more the sounds of the nearby fight. Bucky couldn't help faltering for a moment. Steve looked… comfortable. In his element and totally in control. It wasn't a bad thing, not by any means, but Bucky had never seen him like that before.

There were a lot of men who fell in around them, trailing alongside and behind the tank as it blasted their way to freedom. Since his shoulder was working once again he helped fight; took out enemies easily enough with a minimum of bullets, even at a distance. Had his vision been this good before? His aim was better too. He didn't get every shot he made but there were definitely a few that were a little too accurate to just be luck.

He doesn't mention it. Not to Steve, not to anyone. When he realized his body, and especially his shoulder, are mostly healed by the time they walk the few hours back to base, he still doesn't mention it. When they go to take down HYDRA and he gets hungry more quickly and stops feeling so cold at night. When he realizes his allergies have stopped acting up and he just isn't getting sick. When he heals from a knife wound practically overnight. He doesn't mention it.

And it's only after he's fallen. After he wakes up in so much pain his body is numb because his brain can't process it. After he notices his left arm is just gone. After he realizes that Steve isn't coming for him because the Soviets find him lying in the snow first. That's when he realizes maybe… Maybe he should have mentioned it. At least he still has his soul mark.