"It was him, Natasha!" Steve was aware he was almost shouting; he'd stopped caring who at a while ago. The Avengers living room, which usually felt wastefully large, was claustrophobic as Steve paced the floor. His blood was singing and his skin itching with the need to move. To get out and go after…
"Steve." Natasha tone was placating, calm, and Steve glanced at her. "It wasn't him, you know that." Natasha insisted with all the gentleness of a mother holding her newborn baby and Steve could only tsk as he started pacing again.
"How else do you explain it then? I saw, Natasha. The bullet came so close I was cross-eyed and then it just didn't hit me. And the second bullet they found that I didn't even feel? How do you explain it besides Bucky?" Steve had been repeating the same thing for hours, ever since the initial rush of adrenaline from being shot at had faded enough he wasn't in survival mode.
Natasha sighed but didn't offer anything for a long while. "I don't know, Steve." She finally said. Steve heard her, just barely, over his own thoughts.
"Maybe it was something Zola did? That helped him to survive the fall? I mean, it's supposed to feel unmistakable when your soulmate dies, right? And I never felt anything like that." Steve said and Natasha gave him a look.
"With your serum it could be different, Steve. You know that." She reminded and Steve barely held himself back from waving her off.
"Everything else was the same. Whenever Howard had new gear Bucky and I tested them on each other first because no matter what we couldn't hurt one another, even if the gear failed. Nat, I could find him anywhere. In any sized crowd or any sized facility. Even at Azzano. I know, for a fact, that it was Bucky. I don't know what happened to him or why he was shooting at me, but I know it was him." Steve said.
Ordinarily, Steve would have been amazed that Natasha was worn enough to look to Clint for help. As it was, his thoughts were consumed by Bucky and what kind of nightmare he must have gone through to get to the point he'd shoot his own soulmate. Steve's steps faltered at the thought because why? If Bucky had known him, why would he take the shot? He would have known he'd never be able to kill Steve even if he wanted to. Steve's stomach sunk as he realized Bucky must not have known him. It was the only thing that made sense. Something had happened to make him forget and Steve was more sure than ever that they needed to find him. Now.
"Steve." Steve looked at Clint, who studied him for a moment before he sighed heavily. "Okay. Whether we believe you or not, we do need to capture that sniper. If you believe it's Bucky and you can really find him anywhere, led us to him. Then we'll know for sure and if it is Bucky we can take out two birds with one stone; capturing the sniper and getting Bucky somewhere safe where we can help him." Clint said and Steve couldn't help relaxing.
"Thank you." He practically whispered and Clint nodded. Steve glanced around the room; at Natasha who stood with her arms crossed and a slight frown on her face, at Clint who looked ready to help, at Bruce who looked concerned, and at Tony. Who met his gaze without faltering and just nodded.
"Let me grab a suit and we can take one of the cars." Tony decided and Steve swallowed around the knot that had formed in his throat as he nodded back.
They broke apart just long enough to get suited up before meeting in the garage. Tony took the driver's seat of one of his less conspicuous cars while Steve claimed the passenger's. Clint and Natasha took the backseat and while Bruce saw them off, he'd be remaining at the Tower on backup. They left and Steve took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He couldn't explain how it felt other than there was a magnet pulling his whole being in one direction and it took little effort to focus on it.
"That way." He directed and Tony started driving. The car was unusually silent; Tony didn't play any music, Clint and Natasha weren't discussing tactics in the back seat. Steve concentrated on the pull, feeling the minute shifts in direction as Tony wove back and forth through the streets, going the way Steve had first pointed out. Steve didn't think Bucky was moving and wasn't sure if that was good or bad. It felt like the last time Bucky had been this still for so long had been at Azzano and Steve could still feel his rage surge when he thought about how many days leading up to the rescue Bucky hadn't moved, how many days he'd been strapped to Zola's table, which Steve hadn't even noticed until after.
As they got closer the pull got, not weaker or stronger per say but Steve could just tell when they were getting closer. Steve felt when they went too far, the pull shifting to behind him, and directed Tony back. It took a few loops before Steve knew exactly where it was and his body was humming with the need to rush in. Tony parked down the street and Steve looked towards the building he could feel Bucky's pull from. The apartment building was ordinary and Bucky was several stories up, on this side of the building. That was as much as Steve could tell without getting closer.
Natasha had leaned forward between their seats and was studying the building. "He's not going to be alone. What's the plan for getting him out of there?" She asked.
Steve hesitated, because he had a plan. He just knew that his teammates would absolutely hate it. As if they knew his thought three eyes landed on him, waiting for him to elaborate. "I think… I should go in alone." Steve said and as expected all three of them jerked.
"Not a chance, Steve!" Tony objected first, and loudest.
"Are you kidding me? The man shot you earlier today and you want to face him alone?" Clint added, almost over the top of Tony.
Steve held up a hand and both men quieted. "That's exactly why. Something obviously isn't right with him. He doesn't remember me or he wouldn't have bothered shooting. But he still can't hurt me. Even if we fight. But you guys he can and I'd never forgive myself if I got you hurt. Just give me a chance." Steve pleaded.
Tony looked ready to object and so did Clint, but Natasha spoke before either man could. "Okay. But the second we think there's trouble we're coming after you." She warned.
Tension Steve didn't even realize he had faded and he smiled at her. "Thank you." He said softly before he put in his comm and got out of the car, shield in hand. It was late enough there was no one around to see him, but he moved quickly to the building. Being this close to Bucky after so long was almost painful, but Steve knew for certain Bucky was in one of the rooms closest to the wall Steve was facing.
Even if there had been a fire escape, Steve wouldn't have used it because it would have been far too loud. But as it was he had to make do with scaling the building and the sparsely placed bricks that extended out from the rest of the wall. Only a superhuman would be able to climb them, which was probably why this building had been chosen. Thankfully Bucky was only on the third floor, and the sensation of being so close almost punched the air from Steve's lungs when he lept to the right window.
He took a breath, because once he got inside he'd have to move fast. Forcing the window was easier than he expected, and quieter, and Steve dashed to the form on the bed. Before he could reach it and pin Bucky so they could talk, Steve found himself being held by the throat by a metal hand. He hit the ground surprisingly quietly and Bucky muffled his "oomph" with his other, human hand.
The eyes that met his were achingly familiar and also not. They were Bucky's, down to the last flecks of gray that had frequently made Bucky's eyes more silver than blue. They were just as intelligent. Just as sharp, not missing a detail. But these eyes held none of the warmth, none of the happiness or fear or compassion or love or even familiarity that Steve was used to. They held none of the life Bucky's had.
Steve slowly forced the tension in his body away as Bucky continued to hover over him, unmoving. The metal hand was wrapped around his throat and Bucky sat heavily on his chest, keeping him in place, while the other hand remained over his mouth. But Bucky didn't move, didn't tighten the metal hand or call out to alert the others Steve had no doubt were there. His eyes lingered on Steve's for a long time and Steve studied him back. His face was practically identical to before, except for the long hair now framing it. And Steve could see the way the perfectly formed, ripcord muscles moved under Bucky's clothes that he hadn't had before.
Steve could have looked forever, but Bucky seemed to find whatever he was looking for and moved the hand covering his mouth. It reached behind Bucky and came back with a gun that the brunet pressed to his head.
Steve didn't tense. Didn't even feel the need to because he knew Bucky couldn't hurt him. Bucky seemed to know it to as he swallowed hard and leaned down, putting his face very near to Steve's. "I know you're enhanced. Can you hear me?" He practically mouthed the words, but in the nighttime stillness Steve heard him and even better the others in the apartment wouldn't. The downside was that Natasha, Tony, and Clint wouldn't be able to hear them either.
"Yes." Steve replied in the same hushed way. Bucky shifted slightly and his flat expression broke briefly to reveal that Bucky was uncomfortable, nervous even. "You shot at me." Steve said and he nodded.
"But the bullets didn't hit. Why?" Bucky demanded and Steve became abruptly aware that this man, who had Bucky's face, who copied his mannerisms, who was the Bucky his body was humming in satisfaction at having so close again, really didn't know him. At least not in the way Steve knew him.
"You're my soulmate." Steve answered and Bucky frowned, looking away. His eyes were moving rapidly like he was reading something, but Steve could tell he was thinking deeply. Finally, slowly, those silver-blue eyes turned back on him.
"I don't know what that is." He said and Steve limited his reaction to a sharp inhale, but he really wanted to cry. But Bucky was obviously waiting for an answer so Steve started talking.
"It means that I'm yours and you're mine. It means we can't hurt each other and it means we always know where the other is. It means when one of us dies the other will feel it and that we'll be together even in the afterlife." Steve offered. Bucky's frown grew, but Steve kept talking. "It means that I'll always look after you just like you have me. And it means that I love you. That I always have loved you and that I always will."
The metal hand jerked back suddenly like Bucky had been burned, and the gun was withdrawn as well. Bucky looked almost frightened, his breathing heavier than before. He glanced at the door then back to Steve. "Do I know you?" The words were almost a plea and Steve cautiously reached up, gently lining Bucky's jaw with his hands.
"Yes. And I know you." Steve promised, a smile playing on his lips as hope bloomed in his chest. Bucky opened his mouth a couple of times, but never actually said anything. So Steve kept talking. "Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. You were born March 10, 1917 in Brooklyn, New York. And you and I have been best friends and soulmates for almost 90 years. You're my Bucky and I'm your Stevie, 'til the end of the line."
"Stevie." He echoed even more softly and Steve nodded, fighting back tears at the warmth in the word. "Stevie." Bucky repeated, more to himself this time. Steve didn't flinch when Bucky reached out and touched his face with his human hand. "I know you." He whispered and Steve nodded a little, careful not to dislodge the hand on his cheek because that touch was soothing his soul.
After a moment Bucky inhaled deeply and pulled back. He glanced at the door again and seemed to debate something for a few moments before he looked back at Steve. Steve reached out and touched his cheek, just the same as Bucky had him only moments before. "Come with me. Come home with me." He pleaded.
Bucky studied him for a moment, then nodded once. Steve could have cheered. Bucky got off of him with the sort of grace that came from years of fighting, of knowing exactly how and what his body could do and being confident in it. The only one Steve knew who came close to moving like that was Natasha, but Bucky was on another level and it was like nothing Steve had ever seen from his brunet. But the questions and staring could wait.
Steve stood slowly, unwilling to startle Bucky into calling for help, and his eyebrows raised as Bucky drew a duffel bag from under the bed. Steve took in Bucky's body. The metal arm extended all the way to his shoulder and disappeared under the trimmed sleeve of his black shirt. It was a bit strange to see someone in plain black sweatpants and tee-shirt with weapons holstered seemingly everywhere. If Steve wasn't wrong, he even caught sight of a few hidden ones under the pajamas.
But Bucky just pulled the duffel over his shoulder and nodded at the window. Steve wasn't about to argue and slipped out as quietly as he had entered. Only this time, when he jumped to a lower handhold, Bucky slipped out after him. They reached the ground in moments and Bucky just looked to Steve, waited for him to lead the way. Steve was so tempted to kiss the brunet right there, but his earpiece abruptly came to life with voices and he realized that the signal had been blocked in the apartment.
Steve actually flinched, because he'd gotten used to the barely-a-whisper voices he and Bucky had been speaking with, but the pain was worth it when Bucky silently snickered at him. Steve rolled his eyes and nodded at the street, ignoring the voices in his ear that quieted as soon as they stepped out of the alleyway. Bucky tensed slightly as they neared the car and Steve couldn't help reaching for his human hand, couldn't help lacing their fingers together.
Bucky looked down at their clasped hands like he was confused at first, but slowly he relaxed a little and even more importantly he didn't pull free. Steve knew they had a long way to go and a lot that they needed to talk about, but Bucky was back at his side and willing to hold his hand and come what may, they'd have each other from here on out. Because Steve was never going to leave his best guy behind again and if the way Bucky held onto his hand Bucky wasn't about to leave him either.