"Did you want you to go in?" Barton's question from his side had him momentarily tensing before he pulled his eyes away from the barber shop to glance over at him.
"No I am good. I have no idea how I would have them cut it." He ran his fingers through the pulled back strands and shrugged. "I was just certain I have been in there before and was trying to figure out when."
"It is old enough you could have gone in during the thirties. You sure you don't want a new do to go with your new clothes?" He asked motioning towards the few bags in his gloved metal hand and new jeans and jacket he had donned immediately after purchase.
He shook his head. "I'm sure. Like I said, unsure how I would have it."
"That's cool." The archer pointed to his car. "Ready to head home? Shopping exhausts me and it looks like you could get the hell away from people."
He was more than correct. It took all the control he had not to either snap and kill the obnoxious people around him or to just run away and hide in a closet and give up on everything. If he had attempted to go into that mall on his own, he was certain that one would have happened.
"Yes lets go. There are too many people in New York."
'You've always liked people.' James informed him. 'A city boy through and through'
'Yes well that's changed now.'
'For now.'
He sighed in frustration as he got into the passenger seat and Barton shot him a concerned look. "What's wrong?"
"Even my own mind has this expectation that I will go back to just being Bucky Barnes at some point. I don't know if I can really be the same man I was ever again."
"Well of course not." He said and then clarified at Barnes's shocked look, "No one goes through trauma and comes out the other side exactly the same. I'm not the same after Loki that's for damn sure. I didn't know Steve before, but I am pretty sure even he isn't the same after a life on ice. No one expects you to just jump into being who you were. In fact, if you think about it, you probably were already slightly changed after what Hydra did to you the first time right?"
'Yes!' James exclaimed. 'You won't ever be younger carefree James Barnes again. You've been a soldier far longer then you were The Soldier.'
'That makes sense.' He thought in surprise. 'I remember being bitter at how Steve was obviously changed for the better and all I felt was a negative change in myself.'
He voiced as much to Clint who was quiet for a moment before saying. "You're so focused on knowing who Steve is, of having memories of him. I think that no matter who you feel like, you'll know Steve. What you really need to know is yourself."
"What do you mean?"
"Okay just like, close your eyes real quick."
"What!"
"Just trust me okay?"
"This is ridiculous." He grumbled but followed the suggestion.
"Okay so you said that James helps you answer questions right? Focus and tell me the answers to these questions okay?"
He nodded in silent reply.
"Good. So what is Steve's favorite color?"
It only took him a moment of thinking, wracking his brain for what he knew should be an easy conclusion before saying confidently. "Yellow."
"Really? I always thought it would have been like red or blue."
"No. Yellow. He used to not even be able to see red. Yellow was the only true color he could see correctly. We used to always watch the sunsets together." He answered smoothly; amazed that he needed no input from James.
"Now what's your favorite color?"
He opened his mouth to answer and then immediately snapped it shut when he realized he had no idea what to say.
'Do I have a favorite color?' He thought. 'Do I still have favorites?'
'You used to like blue? And green? Do you see a color that you like more than others?'
Barnes opened his eyes and glanced around them trying to find one that stood out. When nothing jumped at him he shrugged. "I don't know how to have favorites."
"See man that's what I mean! I know how badly you want to remember everything from your past and trust me, I get it, but maybe it shouldn't be your number one priority."
"And what should be?" Barnes asked in confusion. "Remembering will let me be with Steve again."
"Do you want my opinion?"
"I wouldn't have come to you for help if I didn't want it." He almost snapped, glaring at the man's profile.
"No need to be snarky, is just a question. My opinion is that you need help accepting your past and figuring out who you are as a human being. Memories will come to you as you go. Not remembering stuff isn't what's keeping you from going back to Steve, being afraid of who you are is."
"Are you saying I need to be comfortable with what I've done?"
"No! Just that you need to be comfortable with who you are. You know what colors are Barnes, you can see them, but you can't decide what one you like more then another? If I were you I would want to know who I am, what I like, how I feel, before even trying to know specifics of who I used to be. You said you didn't think you could be the same Bucky Barnes as before? Good. Don't. Become a matured Bucky Barnes that has had shit happen to him."
"You say it like that's so easy to do."
Barton twisted in the seat and looked him in the eyes. "No. I know it won't be easy. You'll have to do it in steps. First, a color."
"Are you making me do this now?" He asked glaring at him.
"Yep!" He said, obnoxiously popping the 'p'. "What colors don't you like?"
"Red." He said instantly.
"Good. And do like?"
He thought for a moment, picturing colors that seemed comforting to him. Things that made him feel safe. The first one to come to his mind was yellow, faint memories of Steve's happiness at watching the sunset, no matter where they were, filling his head.
"I guess I would have to say yellow too. I can't think of any way that yellow can be used as a damaging color. It's too bright and happy."
"Awesome!" Barton reached over and clasped him on the arm. "See, you have a favorite color now!"
"How did you know to do that? I thought you said you were unsure how to help me?"
He shrugged. "We didn't have the same experiences at all, no. But after Loki and what happened to Phil, all I could feel was guilt and hatred. I hated who I was and what I did. I didn't want to be me anymore Barnes. I didn't want my name because every time I heard it, it was Phil's voice saying it. But my therapist told me almost what I told you. Move on Clint. Don't dwell on what happened; find a way to live with the changes. "
"Therapist?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Mhmm. Mandated. Totally sucked at first but she's pretty awesome. Someone like that might be able to help you too."
"I am not going to talk to some stranger!"
"Wasn't going to suggest it, but aren't I just some stranger?"
He stared at him and then shrugged. "You are on Steve's team. That means he must trust you, so I did."
"Thanks!" he winked. "So I can just be your therapist! I might get some pointers from Maggie, but I can do it. Oh speaking of help, your arm, do you want it fixed?"
Barnes glanced down to the covered metal and nodded his head. "You know someone who can fix it?"
"Sure do! I know just the man!"
Barton drove them to a tower in central New York with a large 'A' sitting at the top. Avengers Tower. He turned and glowered at the archer.
"Steve could be here."
"No way man! I thought we should come here to get your arm patched up earlier and while you were trying on clothes I called Nat to see if he was. Cap's out looking for your ass with his new buddy Sam."
"The man with the wings?"
"Yes the very unfair human being who gets to fly with wings. It's Just Tony and Bruce here."
"Stark?" He frowned, a feeling of fear creeping up his spine. "He's the one you want to fix this?"
'I don't think I can see Stark!' He thought in a panic. 'Not with what I did to his parents.'
'You can handle it. Or I can. Whatever you want to call it.' James pointed out. 'You need to face the painful memories to move past them.'
'I hate you. I hate this.'
'You'll live.'
"That he is! What's wrong with Tony, well other than the obvious?" He said the last part teasingly, but the question had a serious undertone.
"I killed Howard and Maria Stark." He answered simply.
Barton shot him a briefly surprised look as he parked the car and then shook his head. "Nope, Hydra killed them."
"I was Hydra!" He snapped after him as he got out of the car. He wrenched open the door and moved to follow his companion to an elevator.
"Nuhuh. They controlled you, remember? James Barnes hasn't killed anyone since 1945."
"That's not true. I killed a whole base of Hydra agents yesterday morning."
Barton halted and turned to stare at him. He just awkwardly watched him for a moment and then said, "Okay. I'm sure they deserved it, right?"
"They did."
He nodded and reached over to rest his hand on Barnes's right shoulder. "You were fighting the bad guys, ones that hurt you. As for Tony's parents, everyone in this business has red in their ledger. You'll just have to come to terms with it and make up for it when you are ready."
Barnes just snorted and shrugged the hand off, moving away from the man. Barton sighed sadly and then shrugged, lifting his head to the ceiling.
"Hey Jarvis, Tony's workshop please?"
"Certainly Agent Barton."
Barnes tensed at the British voice and looked around in confusion to find its origin.
"That's Jarvis. He's Tony's AI. Jarvis buddy, this is Sergeant James Barnes."
"Pleasure Sergeant Barnes. Welcome to Avengers Tower."
"Artificial Intelligence? Stark really is just like his father. Howard built a flying car once."
"Really?" Barton asked his eyes wide in excitement.
"It didn't work very well. Stayed off the ground for about fifteen seconds."
'I think that was a good night?' He pondered to himself.
'It was. Was the last night you saw Steve before deporting.'
'At the Stark expo.' He agreed trying to remember more of the night.
"That's still pretty bad ass." The archer's words startled him out of his thoughts and he glanced over to him as the doors opened.
"Hey Tony, can you make a flying call?" Barton called as they stepped out of the elevator.
"The hell Birdbrain? Did you come here for that?" A voice called and then Tony Stark was in front of them with a perplexed look. "Really?"
"No Shellhead. Came so you could fix Barnes's arm." He gestured to the assassin at his side.
"James Barnes? Hey Klondike! Steve told me what happened when I visited him at the hospital! He know you're here?"
He shook his head, unsure how to respond to the eccentric man.
"Ooh going behind the Captain's back! Awesome. So you're Bucky Barnes, Klondike, Steve's not dead best friend."
"Klondike?" He asked.
"Yeah! It's a delicious frozen treat, hard on the outside with a soft creamy middle. Totally you!"
He glanced over at Barton, who gave him a shrug. "You get used to him and his nicknames. He calls Steve Iced Cappuccino and Capsicle. Apparently he has a thing for frozen jokes."
"Ooh I could call you Elsa!"
"What!" So far Tony Stark did nothing but confuse him. He almost spoke in a language he didn't understand, and Barnes spoke at least a dozen different ones.
"Disney movie." Stark said with a wave of his hand.
"Tony, he's having memory problems, maybe refrain from nicknames?" Barton said at the same time Barnes exclaimed.
"They still make Disney movies?" His words were almost completely encouraged by James's wordless exclamation at the words, but Barnes could faintly recall dragging Steve to, what he was sure was the first ever one. "I think Steve and I went to see," a brief pause, "Snow White! Yes, Snow White when it came out."
"That's so awesome!" Stark exclaimed. "You and Cap need a Disney movie marathon! There are so many of them now! That's number one on your list, Jarvis jot that down!" He ordered authoritatively. "And oh yeah! Fine, ixnay on the nicknames."
"Yes sir." The AI responded to his first statement with what sounded like exasperation.
"I think I have gone insane." Barnes murmured to himself. "Gone insane and am imagining this."
"Psh not at all! I'm just that awesome. Now come over here, sit, I'll look at your arm."
He glanced at the chair he motioned too and froze at its similarity to Hydras mind wipe chair. It had the same basic design, with the arm rests and straps. It was missing the head part, the mechanics that would erase minds, but still froze his blood. He turned pleading eyes to Barton who stepped forward and shook his head at Stark.
"Hey Tony, do you have like a regular chair or something? I think this one makes him uneasy."
"Yeah course." He pulled over a completely normal stool. "Have bad memories of dentists?"
"More like bad memories of Hydra." He stated simply taking a seat on the stool.
"Yikes, I don't even want to imagine what put that look on your face then." He stated. "Think you can take your spectacular jacket and the glove off?"
"You really don't." he agreed, following the request and dropping them onto the floor. Stark instantly bent forward to examine the arm, carful hands running over the metal.
"I could do so much better than this." He muttered. "Screw you Hydra, it so isn't out of my league." His fingers prodded the torn section and he glanced up at Barnes. "What happened here?"
"Steve's shield."
"Ah. Nothing beats that vibranium. Expensive crap that is. You want this just fixed up, or would you like a new one?"
"New one!" He exclaimed instantly. The prospect of getting rid of the deadly weapon attached to his body beyond thrilling.
"Excellent! I'll patch you up for now so you aren't stuck armless. I think I still have some vibranium scraps somewhere. That would be a good sturdy core! Then you could be linked to your Capsicle!"
Barnes just stared at him as he talked excitedly about ideas for the new arm, the similarities between him and Howard glaringly obvious.
"You know I am a Hydra assassin right?"
"Was." Barton interjected but was ignored.
"Sure do buddy. Steve told me everything."
"I killed your parents." He didn't know what possessed him to say it, but he couldn't stop himself as the words poured from his mouth. "I knew Howard, he was my friend. And I am sorry."
The air was tense as the billionaire stared at him, and then Stark sighed and sent an understanding look.
"I used to make weapons you know? It's what Stark Industries did. Best line of weapons around, billions of them. I made them for our soldiers, to protect them, to serve the country. They were excellent American made machines. But they fell into the wrong hands, bad hands, hands that killed those same soldiers I had tried to protect. They were dead, because of what I did.
"You're just like those weapons Barnes. You are an excellent American made weapon too. Created to protect America, especially her Captain," He gave a small wink before returning to a serious tone. "You also fell into the wrong hands. They got a hold of you and warped a good man that did what he believed right into the type of weapon they wanted."
He shrugged and gave him a look. Not of pity, or even one of sadness. It was acceptance that was reflected in those dark brown eyes. "I don't blame you for my parent's deaths. You didn't have a conscious mind. Your hand, your actions, hell everything that you have been forced to do, was just a stolen bullet triggered by Hydra. I get it Barnes. You don't have to apologize for actions that weren't yours."
He stared at the other man before him, completely speechless. Why had his words resonated with him so much? Wasn't what he said almost exactly what Barton had said in the elevator?
'Barton said so out of comfort, a need for you to see that it wasn't you. Stark, he understands. Your actions influenced his life, he was the one you were forced to directly harm. What he just said is that he realizes that and forgives you. You made amends; you took a step to fix damage you had caused. That's why it feels different. Because it is.'
'Because I made a conscious decision to repent for what I did as the Soldier.' He thought in realization. He stared at Stark for a moment more before his face slowly broke into the first real smile in decades. The movement of his lips and lightness in his chest almost made him want to cry.
"Thank you Stark."