The walk back upstairs was silent. Ari didn't speak to him or look at him and her expression was distant. Bucky was afraid of talking to her. He didn't know what was going on in her mind. She'd given him her approval and thanks for finally killing Alex—but who knew how she was feeling now? Knowing Ari, she was probably wracked with guilt. A part of him wanted to tell her that none of this was her fault—that Alex had brought it upon himself—but a part of him was still too afraid to touch upon something this emotional with her. So he stared straight ahead and tried to act like nothing had just happened. Like he hadn't just killed her brother.

"You're bleeding." Her voice was quiet and without emotion. He looked down at his arm in surprise, almost having forgotten it was bleeding, and hoarsely said, "Yeah…"

"Let me fix it," she said. "Let's go back to that first aid kit." She headed off without checking to see if he came or not and he follower her, a bit wary of this suddenly-solemn Ari. She pulled the first aid bag out of the room he'd sat in to watch her get tortured and patted the floor next to her, sitting down. He sat down and ripped the sleeve of his shirt off (it was hanging on by mere tatters anyway). He wordlessly held his arm out to her and she began to clean the wound off and stitch the skin back together.

"It's not perfect," she said, "but it'll do until we can get you to a hospital."

"I found Bucky," he told her quietly.

She looked up at him, her expression a bit confused. "What?"

He cleared his throat, feeling a bit awkward. This was strange to discuss—but if there was someone who needed to hear it, it was the person who had tried so hard to get his memories back. "I…I don't feel connected to HYDRA anymore. I'm not going to call myself the Winter Soldier anymore. I'm Bucky Barnes. Not…not the same Bucky Barnes I was before. A different one. But still Bucky. But you can still call me Soldier," he added quickly.

Ari looked surprised. "But why?"

"Because…because it doesn't sound so bad when you say it," he said thoughtfully.

Ari smiled somewhat sadly. "Thank you. I admit…I kind of like calling you that. It's the first thing I knew you by. And you still are a soldier. You just play for the good team now."

Did he? Bucky wasn't quite sure. Killing Gavin Hoffman, getting his files and memories back from HYDRA, these were all one thing…but playing for the opposite side? Was he really ready to get back into a life of fighting? Could he even control himself, if he did so?

"Alright," she said, finishing up by rubbing an alcohol swab on his arm and he winced at the stinging cold. "All done."

They stood up and just as they did, Steve's voice rang out. "There you guys are! We've been looking." He stopped short at the strange expressions on both Bucky's and Ari's faces and asked, "Is everything okay? What happened to your brother?"

"He died," Ari said shortly.

"Want to tell me how he died?" asked Steve.

"Not really," she said.

Steve frowned for a moment but then Bucky shot him a look, one that said Don't push it, I'll tell you later, and Steve backed off for the moment, thankfully. "Right," he said, "well…we found your things, Bucky. Follow me." He led them down the hall, through a set of double doors, to a room with a terrifying-looking chair and multiple wires coming out of it. The room was full of unopened cardboard boxes and it looked like someone had set the chair up in a hurry and then left it there. Natasha was sitting on it when they entered, swinging a black device around her fingers. She slid off the chair when they walked in and asked Ari, "You okay?"

"Yeah," Ari muttered. "I'm fine."

"What happened to your—" started Natasha but both Steve and Bucky shot her a look this time and both Natasha and Sam, who had been leaning against the wall, seemed to realize it wasn't a discussion for this time. So she cleared her throat. "Right. Well…you're in luck, Barnes. I searched Hoffman's office—"

"Search," scoffed Sam. "You destroyed it."

Natasha shrugged and grinned. "So I found this decoder. I think Hoffman was telling the truth—this may be another one. And I found his laptop too, so I hacked into his files—for a personal laptop, it had terrible security—and I found this information." She gestured to the chair. "As it turns out, the way your memories were erased…well, they weren't erased. They were suppressed. Smothered, in a way. They're still there, buried under years of coating them with psychological torture and…well, to be honest? I'm not sure. This technology is beyond even me. But I get the gist of it—and the gist is that your memories are still there."

"And?" he prompted.

She paused. "Okay, so this is the bad part. There is a way to reverse the process. It…it rips the covering off the memories, so to speak. Only here's the thing…in trial runs that they tested it out, over half the test subjects lost their minds and went insane after they sat in this chair. Around eighty-six percent, actually, which is a very high number. And you've had decades of memory wiping done on you…"

"I'm doing it," he grunted.

"Now wait just a minute," Steve said sharply. "Going insane? Bucky, listen, I want you to remember your past as much as you do—but this is a huge risk."

"It's also torturously painful," Natasha added slowly. "Half of the people who went insane went insane because they couldn't handle the excruciating pain."

"And there's that!" Steve said, looking a bit frantic now. "You can't do this to yourself."

"I'm used to torture," said Bucky, "and I'm doing this."

"You sure, Soldier?" Ari asked, her voice still a bit thin. "Eighty-six percent is a really high percentage. Those odds are not in your favor."

"We could get Stark in here," suggested Natasha. "Have him take a look at it—maybe make it safer or…or improve Barnes' chances? I know Stark'll kill to have a look at this technology. In fact, I'm probably going to have it airlifted to him as soon as I get back to Fury on this…"

"No," said Bucky, not even bothering to ask who Stark was. "I'm not waiting for anyone. I've waited decades for this. I'm doing this now."

There was silence in the room and then Steve rounded on Ari. "Ari—he listens to you," he said. "Tell him not to do this. He'll lose his mind!"

Ari looked unhappy at being put in a difficult position but she said, "I think he should do this if he wants to. I mean…I'm scared too. Those odds aren't good. But Soldier knows what he's risking and this is his life. Don't you think he's been in the dark for long enough?"

Bucky raised his eyebrows at Steve as if to say See? And Steve took a step back, his face falling. He knew he was defeated. Sam was silent, his expression unusually solemn, and Natasha warningly said, "Alright, listen. I know how to start the machine up and all that jazz—but I have no idea what it does to you. So are you sure you're ready for this?"

"I'm ready," he said in a determined voice and settled back into the chair. He remembered all the times he'd been sat in a chair similar to this in the past years only to have his memories suppressed. Funny that he was now subjecting himself to the same exact torture. Then again, the outcome would make all the difference in the world.

If I survive. The thought rose to his mind, unbidden, and he tried to kick it away. No. He could do this. He could survive. He hadn't lived this long only to lose his mind getting his life back.

"Ari, come help me," called Natasha and Ari hurried forward. For the next twenty minutes, they prepped the machine. Wires had to be plugged into the wall and Natasha—reading from some sheets of paper she'd claimed she'd found in Hoffman's office—snapped on switches and filled tubes with chemicals she found in a box next to the chair. The box was a bit dusty. Obviously no one had been tested on this chair since HYDRA had quickly set up in this cheap building. Ari snapped metal cuffs onto his upper arms, forearms, above his knees, and above his ankles. She inserted a mouth piece into his mouth and he bit down on it. His gag reflex rose up but he pushed it back down, used to doing this sort of thing. He watched her face as she worked, wondering how she felt about all of this. She was still pale but she looked calmer now. Her expression betrayed no emotion at all and he wondered if she really wanted him to do this or not. Or perhaps she was thinking about Alex. He had no idea how Alex's death would affect her. One day…one day he'd ask for the full story.

"Okay, we need to get these injections going," said Natasha. Ari nodded and hooked up the tubes filled with strange chemicals—some of which had a fluorescent, glowing quality to them—to the stands that ran up and down either side of the chair. The tubes had long, thin tubes that came out of them and ended with needles, which Ari wiped down with alcohol swabs and then began to inject into him. He ignored every tiny stab as she inserted them into his neck, his inner arms, his thighs…on both sides of his body. Then they lowered the strange basket sort of thing that hung over his head and began attaching the electrodes that hung from it to his head. He felt like some sort of animal that was being dissected.

Finally they were done and they both stepped back. "Alright," said Natasha, frowning slightly. "I'm going to start it and then we're all going to clear out. We'll keep the door open a crack in case you need us or something goes wrong. I'll decode your files in the meanwhile."

Bucky could barely move his head and he certainly couldn't speak but he nodded to the best of his ability. He was glad they were leaving. He didn't want anyone to have to see this. Sam patted him on the shoulder as he walked by and said, "Good luck. I hope you survive this."

Steve looked him in the eyes and said, "You will survive this. I'll see you when it's over, Bucky." And then he left quickly, as if seeing Bucky connected to all these wires and needles was hurting him.

Ari gave him a faint smile and said, "Stay strong, Soldier. Don't forget to breathe. You just did me the greatest favor anyone's ever done for me—don't ruin it by dying on me." She clasped his hand for a moment and then she left as well.

"You ready?" Natasha asked. She took a deep breath and then flipped several switches on large black metal box that was connected to the chair. The box itself was connected to an outlet in the wall by a thick black cord. He heard the box whir and then hum to life and then he heard the faint sound of electrical humming start up. He saw Natasha walk out of the room, shutting the door behind her, and he gasped a bit when he felt tiny pinches all up down his body as the fluids hooked into him began to seep into him.

And then it began. Small at first, with tiny sharp pinches in his brain, behind his eyes, and he screwed up his eyes against the pain. But then the pain began to build just as ghostly voices began to echo in his head. And then pain kept building and building…

What happened next was unbearable. Indescribable. Torture of the worst kind. Pain like nothing he'd ever felt before thundered through him—and he was locked in place with no way to escape. All his strength had left him and he could no more move and crawl away than a two-day-old infant could. All he could feel were the white-hot knives that ripped his skull open and slashed through his brain. The white-hot molten lava that poured all over his mind, melting his brain matter until he felt like it might leak through his ears, his eyes melting in their sockets. His mouth was open in an endless scream and he thrashed feebly against the restraints, as memory after memory assaulted him. The serums and electric shocks pounding through his body were violently ripping away the thick bandages that had been smothering his memories and he wanted to die a thousand times over. The memories pounded him in the face, hurtling through his mind at warp speed, and he was reliving his entire past life in one go. He had never expected memory retrieval to feel this way. It felt like someone was slowly ripping him apart, nerve by nerve, muscle by muscle, ribbon of skin by ribbon of skin. It felt like it would never end. Death would have been preferable, ten thousand times over. What was death, really, anyway? A sweet, silent sleep? Compared to this hell, he would have died a thousand deaths.

Memories hurled in his face. So many memories that he thought he might seize up from the attack. He could remember everything and it was ripping his mind apart. The strain was too much for his mind to take and he kept screaming and screaming and screaming, his screams choked by the piece of plastic stuffed into his mouth. He was like a dying, wounded animal that had been gagged and was now being skinned alive. His mind was being filleted, sliced off strip by strip. Sweat poured down his face, mixing with the salty tears on his cheeks and the spit and drool on his chin as he remembered his childhood and growing up and everything he'd said and done and all the people he'd met and known. The pain was worse than anything he could have ever imagined and the scream in his head kept building to a crescendo until—I can't do this anymore—let it end please—nonononononoNONONONONO—

And suddenly it was over. He lay there, his whole body drenched with sweat, tears leaking out of his mouth and spit dripping from his open mouth. He felt like he was paralyzed. He could barely move, that's how limp and weak he felt. As if an entire cruise liner had slowly rolled over him, turning him into human sawdust. His heart was hammering but he felt like he been boiled and then crushed and then flung about like a rag doll. His lips trembled and he felt like some newborn child who had been ripped from his mother's womb. The lights in the room were too bright and he wept.

But he remembered. He remembered and fresh tears leaked out of his eyes and streamed down his face as he silently wept for the man he had lost and the man he had become. He could never be the old Bucky again but at least he remembered him. He remembered everything. He remembered his parents. He remembered what subjects he'd learned in school. He remembered reading books and loathing A Tale of Two Cities because it was too much romance and not enough of the French Revolution. He remembered choking on a piece of cake at his eleventh birthday party and he remembered punching his cousin, Annie, in the face when he was six. He remembered his fist kiss with a girl named Lydia who smelled like violets when he was fifteen and he remembered hiding a math exam with a bad score from his mother. He remembered Steve's mother dying and him trying to get Steve to live with him. He remembered all the good, human parts of his life as Bucky Barnes.

And he remembered the dark parts as well. He remembered being simultaneously proud when he'd been drafted but also terrified because now he was leaving his friend behind. He remembered shooting people and crouching in the dirt, bleeding, and wondering if he'd ever make it out alive. Being captured, laying on a gurney, mumbling his name and his number to himself again and again after Zola had experimented on him. Being saved by Steve. Heading back into battle with Steve. Losing his grip from the train and then falling, falling, falling until he hit the rocks and his arm felt like it had been ripped off and then he dozed. Waking up in a strange room. Being attacked. Fighting back. Being injected with drugs. Being attacked again. Fighting back again. Being injected again. Repeat a hundred times. Being trained. Being drugged with chemicals. Being experimented on. He remembered vomiting and crying and being slapped in the face. He remembered being shown photos of his family and their faces would slowly vanish as the photos went on, trying to make them vanish from his mind as well. He remembered the dark things that came after, the things he didn't want to dwell on him. Those faces would haunt his nights for the rest of his life, he knew that now. They would never leave him. His victims were a part of him.

But he was more than that now. Because now he had new memories. He remembered stumbling around in the woods, his head filled with blinding pain, and Ari picking him up. He remembered smashing the ceramic swan. Being questioned by Ari. Getting into a fight with Alexian Madden and beating the crap out of him while Ari screamed. Ari driving him out of town. Meeting Steve with Ari. Looking at old photos in Steve's house. Ari telling him the story of Danika. Meeting Sam who was a friendly, friendly guy and Natasha, whose smirk didn't even bother him anymore because she had done so much for him as well and was good deep down. And there were more. More people he would meet in the future.

He had a new constant and that was Ari. She had tethered him to this reality while he had drifted, a man obsessed and possessed, and he could never repay her for that. He still didn't feel fully human. A hollow part of him realized he would always feel part robot. But he would be as good a friend to Ari that he could be. She had reunited him with Steve, the man he finally truly remembered as his best friend and brother, and he could never repay her for that. Steve was his family and she had brought them back together.

"Soldier!" Ari burst into the room, looking pale. "Is it done? I h-heard you screaming in the hall but you stopped so I thought—I thought—Do you remember me?" she asked anxiously. "Do you know who you are? Do you remember Bucky?" She looked extremely anxious, as if she were afraid he might blankly look at her and ask, "Who the hell is Bucky?" or perhaps start babbling incoherently as if he indeed gone insane in the process.

Bucky smiled sweetly at Ari and she looked very shocked for a moment, mouth falling open. He had never shown any bit of affection towards her, always uncomfortable and closed off. She knew he cared in his own, strange way but she'd never expected any sort of obvious sign of it (besides him fighting alongside her). He beckoned for her to come closer and she did, hesitantly, as if she didn't know who he was anymore, her eyebrows drawing together. He motioned for her to lean close and she did so slowly, warily. Once she was close enough, her hair brushing against his face, he whispered into her ear: "I do." That was the most he could manage for a moment.

Her mouth fell open for a moment—and then she crushed him with a hug (or as much she could hug him with him strapped down onto the chair). "SOLDIER! That's—that's amazing!" He noticed she was crying and he didn't begrudge her it. This has been Ari's journey as much as it had been his. Ari had always been a strong person—anyone would have to be, growing up with a monster like Alex—but she had displayed tremendous courage in the past 24 hours, what with being tortured and then finally shooting Alex.

"Except it feels like I've been crushed a thousand times," he said, wincing from her tight grip. His body was screaming in pain at her grasp.

"Oh! Sorry!" She immediately leaped away and he let out a small sigh of relief. "That…"

"I know." He gave a small smile. "That…sucks."

His use of their terrible inside joke eased any tension in the room and Ari burst out laughing, though her laughter sounded exhausted. "That sucks," she said, chuckling. "It really does suck. I think that may be the only time you've used that that actually makes any sense."

"How long…?" he whispered.

She swallowed, her expression tight. "Four hours."

Four hours. Four hours of excruciating torture of the worst kind. His old life, his memories, they were worth four measly hours. That was all it had taken. Somehow, it rankled him. It should have taken longer. These memories were so important, it should have taken hours. Days. Years. Because that was what he had lost. They were silent for a moment and then he shook his shackles and said, "I think you should unlock me now."

She hurried to unclasp his shackles and then she helped him from the chair. His legs felt like jelly and he stumbled and nearly fell over, feeling a limp spaghetti noodle. He staggered into Ari who let out an "Oof!" and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, trying to support him. "Steve!" she shouted. "Get in here, I need your help!"

Steve burst in, looking panicked for a second, as if he might find Bucky on the floor rocking back and forth and babbling inanely to himself. When he saw Ari struggling under his weight, he immediately wrapped Bucky's arm around his own neck and supported him. Ari ducked away, giving a sigh of relief. "Bucky?" asked Steve, his eyes searching Bucky's face. "You're alright?"

Bucky gave an exhausted smile. "I'm fine. I remember."

Steve's eyes lit up and he led Bucky out to the hall, helping him to settle down on a bench against the wall. Natasha and Sam were sitting on the floor nearby, leaning against the wall. Natasha had a baseball cap covering her entire face, arms crossed and legs crossed at the ankles. She looked like she was asleep but when Bucky exited the room, she took the cap off and looked at him. "Wow, Barnes. You managed to survive that. I admit, that's pretty amazing."

"We heard you screaming," Ari explained, her voice sounding a bit pained. "It sounded…terrible. Steve kept wanting to go in and stop the whole thing. It took all three of us to hold him back."

"And I got elbowed in the face," Sam said.

"I said I was sorry!" said Steve, throwing up his hands.

"You almost damaged the face!" said Sam, pointing indignantly at his face. "Do you know how many women would weep if you damaged my face?"

"Every lady on the planet would cry," Ari said solemnly. "I'm glad for the female population of earth that your face was spared, Sam."

Natasha snorted with laughter and even Bucky smiled. Steve chuckled and Sam rolled his eyes but he couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. He was just naturally a very positive sort of man, Bucky could tell. Steve sat next to him on the small bench and Ari settled down on the floor next to Natasha. For a while they all just sat there, feeling and looking a bit exhausted—but please nonetheless. They all had bruises, cuts, and injuries and Bucky felt very weak at the moment, the pain from the memory machine having sapped him of his strength momentarily, but the mission had ended well. Gavin Hoffman was dead, Alex Madden was dead, all the HYDRA agents here were dead, he had gotten his memories back and finally felt like Bucky Barnes again, and—

"My files," he said suddenly, looking at Natasha. "Did you get them decoded?"

She smiled an everyone-bow-down-to-me sort of smile. "Yes I did." She patted a stack of papers next to her on the ground. "Don't worry, I didn't read them. You can take your sweet time reading them, burning them, whatever…when we go back."

Then they sat in silence again. Everyone looked tired and lost in thought. Bucky knew they should get moving soon but really, what was the hurry? No one was after them (for now, anyway). Ari looked very distant, clearly thinking hard about something. Her mouth had a pinched look about it and Bucky knew she was thinking about Alex. He knew she didn't regret killing him—but still, killing someone blood-related to you had to have some sort of psychological toll on you. It would take time for Ari to come to terms with all that had happened and Bucky knew that was a journey she'd have to take alone. Not completely alone, though. He'd be there for her in whatever way he could, in whatever way she needed him best. Natasha also looked very distant and as Bucky looked at her, he couldn't help but remember the day he'd shot her. She'd shielded the man she was supposed to be protecting and he still remembered her determined expression before he'd shot right through her. He could have shot her through the heart, but he'd chosen to shoot her in the hip, knowing it wouldn't kill her. Perhaps there had been the tiniest bit of Bucky Barnes trying to influence him, even back when he was the Winter Soldier.

"I'm sorry, Natasha," he said out loud suddenly. She gave a start and looked at him. Everyone was looking at him, in fact. "I know I said it before, but I…I mean it this time. About shooting you. I wish I could take it back."

Natasha shrugged and smiled slightly. "It's fine, Barnes. You weren't yourself. And I'm just lucky you didn't shoot me in the head or something."

"And I'm sorry, Sam," he continued, "for ripping your wing off and kicking you off that helicarrier."

"It's cool, man, don't worry about it," said Sam. "Honestly? It felt kind of—well, not good, but…electrifying, being back in action. It felt kind of good to be saving the day again. So it wasn't an all bad situation. Not that that means I give you permission to keep ripping my wings off in the future," he added, looking a bit alarmed, and everyone chuckled at him.

Steve, on his part, kept switching between gazing at Bucky in something like awe, as if he couldn't believe he really had his best friend back—and asking, "So you remember this? What about this? Do you remember that?" and on and on and on. Bucky was exhausted and his mouth was dry and all he really wanted to do was sleep for hours and then eat the biggest meal he'd ever had, but he didn't begrudge Steve this moment. He knew Steve had been paralyzed with loneliness ever since he'd been woken up years ago, so this was a huge moment for him, perhaps one of the happiest moments in Steve's lie, actually. So he answered all of Steve's questions. It felt good, anyway, to be able to recall everything.

Ari got to her feet, stretching and wincing, and then walked over to Bucky and tilted his chin up, examining his face with a small frown. "Okay. We should get going. Soldier here needs rest and fluids and…yeah, basically rest. And we should get his arm checked out," she added, picking up his cybernetic arm and examining some of the damage it had. "But I don't really know who could…"

"Stark," said Natasha confidently. "He can fix any problem you might have."

"Fine, whatever," said Steve, sighing slightly. "Congrats, Bucky, you're going to meet Iron Man eventually. Try not to punch him in the face when he comes up with an annoying nickname for you."

"Aw, come on, Capsicle isn't so bad," Natasha started and she grinned when Steve shot her a look.

"Capsicle," mused Sam, getting to his feet as well. "I like that. Can I use th—"

"NO," said Steve loudly. Ari and Natasha laughed and Bucky felt extremely confused—but in a good way. In a way that felt like he'd eventually figure out what all these terms and names meant because he had all the time in the world now and people he trusted to tell him the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

"Ari needs to be checked over, too," said Bucky suddenly, looking at her injuries. "She was…she was tortured because of me," he added, still ashamed that he had sat there and watched it, though he hadn't had any choice in the matter.

"Is that what happened to you?" Steve asked, looking over at Ari's wounds. "I was wondering… That's incredibly brave of you."

Ari blushed. "It was…okay, fine, I admit it. It was horrible. But I survived."

"We all did," Sam said. "When we get back home, let's toast to that."

Steve helped him to his feet and half-carried, half-dragged Bucky out the building. This was pretty humiliating for Bucky, since he still liked to be very self-sufficient—a remnant from being the Winter Soldier—but he had no other choice. Once they were outside, Sam snapped open his wings (Ari's eyes became blue marbles again, at the sight of them, and Sam winked at her) and he grabbed Bucky's other arm and they sort of partly-dragged and partly-flew him down the road before Natasha rolled her eyes and said, "I'll go get the car, you guys wait here," and Sam and Steve paused with sheepish expressions on their faces that said Why didn't I think of that?

Once they were on the road, Ari asked, "So what are we doing now?" and Bucky murmured, "Heading home," before he fell asleep. He was extremely exhausted, felt like he'd been hit by a battering ram multiple times, and the soothing hum of the car over the highway lulled him to sleep in a matter of minutes. He didn't even realize it, but he had fallen while leaning on Ari, who in turn was leaning against the window. He was extremely heavy and it was uncomfortable for her but she looked at his sleeping face—which looked peaceful for the first time since she'd met him—and didn't have the heart to push him off. So she let him lean on her. In the end, she fell asleep as well, as did Natasha. Sam took the wheel this time, since he'd slept on the way there, and Steve fell asleep in the very back. Everyone was dead tired. It had been an emotional fight as much as a physical one.

It felt like Bucky had only been asleep for minutes before Ari was shaking him awake and whispering, "Soldier, we're home," but he could see from the slant of the sun in the sky that hours had passed. He got out of the car and almost fell over, that's how tired he still was. His eyelids fluttered slightly as he struggled not to sink onto the grass in Steve's front lawn and go to sleep in the sunshine like a cat. Steve and Sam helped him into Steve's house, up the narrow staircase, and into a guest bedroom. He collapsed on top of the comforter and was out like a light even as soon as he hit the bed.

While he slept, he dreamed vivid dreams. The dreams felt like a mix between actual dreams and real memories. So bright, so colorful, so loud…

He stood outside of his own body and observed a 10-year-old Bucky Barnes throwing a piece of cake at a crying boy at a birthday party with rainbow balloons all around the room…the crying boy looked up and he had such bright blue eyes and blond hair…it was Steve. And suddenly they were sitting in a diner and he was in his own body now and Steve was nudging him and telling him that the girl in the corner had been eyeing him. He turned to see the girl; she sat on a stool with her back facing him, wearing a lavender dress, with long brown hair that was artificially curled. She slowly swiveled around and she had such bright blue eyes that he blinked as she smiled at him. She hopped off of her stool and walked towards him. She slid down onto the seat where Steve had sat a moment ago, but now Steve was gone. He smelled roses. And tears were rolling down his face and Ari leaned forward and pressed her hand against his burning forehead. "You're hot," she said quietly. "I can help you. Close your eyes." He closed his eyes and felt someone kiss his cheek. His eyes flew open and he was staring at a woman with long brown hair—but it wasn't Ari. It was his mother. His eyes burned and he sat up and said, "I've been a horrible person…"

"We all make mistakes," she murmured and then she hugged him. He smelled roses again. He hadn't hugged her in years, somehow he knew that the way people know things in dreams, but he hugged her back, feeling like he was a child again. "You're safe now," she said.

His eyes flew open. A white ceiling fan turned lazily on the ceiling and the walls were painted a pale yellow that seemed to glow orange from the light of the setting sun. He blinked, pushing back his hair from his sweaty face. Such a strange dream…but it wouldn't do to dwell on dreams. He had reality to contend with now. He sat up and realized that he felt much better, even though his stomach was aching with hunger. A stack of folded clothes had been placed on the desk in the room, so he washed up in the bathroom and changed into the clothes (dark blue jeans and a dark blue button down t-shirt that he left unbuttoned with a white t-shirt underneath). He brushed his hair, which looked like it hadn't seen a brush in years, and spotted a razor laying on the bathroom counter, still in its packaging. He looked at it for a moment, wondering who had been thoughtful enough to provide all this—Ari or Steve? Perhaps both; they made a good, thoughtful pair and Bucky could only imagine how nauseatingly good they'd be if they somehow ended up together at some point in the future—but then he shrugged and picked up the razor. It was time for a shave. He was starting to look like a lumberjack, not a good look on anyone (not even lumberjacks).

When he was all tidied up, he headed downstairs, holding onto the wall for support. His hunger was dizzying and he could smell something good in the kitchen so he skipped the last five steps and leaped to the ground with a thud. He wandered into the kitchen to find Natasha, Steve, and Ari sitting at the kitchen table, all of them holding cups of coffee, with a plate of brownies on the table. Sam was asleep on the sofa in the family room, an arm thrown over his eyes as he snored lightly.

"Ah, Sleeping Beauty wakes," quipped Natasha.

"I'm glad you think I'm beautiful," he said, dropping into a chair and grabbing a brownie.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, impressed. "And he's gained a sense of humor! And an appetite," she added, watching as he took several more brownies.

"Oh no, he's always had that," grumbled Ari. "You wouldn't believe how much food I had to make for him. He needs the caloric intake of an Olympic gold-medalist swimmer."

"That's what happens when you're a serum-injected super-soldier," said Steve. "Natasha's seen me eat. She knows."

"Oh yes," said Natasha, "I know. What was it? Two loaves of French bread and a whole rotisserie chicken?"

Ari gasped and Steve grinned. "It was a small rotisserie chicken," he said.

"Here, wait, you need more than just brownies," said Ari, getting up. "I made other stuff too."

"You should have seen her in action," said Steve, his tone lit with admiration. "I thought she'd take a nap or something—but no, she rushed off to the store to buy and make food for all of us."

"That's because A) None of you seem like you know how to cook, B) Soldier needed to eat real food when he woke up, and C)," said Ari, setting down food on the table, "when I have nervous energy to work off, I do stuff. I can't sleep. It was either cooking or painting huge murals on your walls. And I had the funny feeling you wouldn't like that, Steve." She'd made some type of pasta dish, a huge bowl of salad, and there were two loaves of French bread and butter. Bucky shoved the brownies aside and got to work. He didn't even realize how hungry he was until he started eating…and didn't stop until half the food was gone. He and Steve alone made short work of the food while Natasha watched them with something akin to mingled disgust and awe. At one point she said, "You might want to actually chew your mouthfuls of bread before you swallow them, Barnes," and he considered hurling the bowl at her head but decided he was too hungry and kept eating.

Ari had been watching them as well, looking a bit startled by how much they ate, and then she got up, muttering something to herself, and began clattering around in the kitchen. "More food?" Steve asked, swallowing a cherry tomato whole.

"Uh, yeah," she said. "Natasha and I still need to eat. And Sam."

"Oh—I'm sorry," said Steve suddenly, looking at the food that he and Bucky had mostly eaten. His cheeks colored faint pink as he looked ashamed, like the old-fashioned gentleman he was. "That was really impolite of me… I should have offered the food to you and Natasha first, it's just that I was so hungry—"

"It's fine," said Ari, waving him off. "I have enough ingredients to make seconds. It won't take long, just boiling up pasta and cutting up a salad."

While she worked, they talked. Everyone's voice was a bit subdued due to all the nastiness they'd just gone through, but their spirits were still light. Bucky didn't talk much but he couldn't help but feel fond of everyone in the room as he looked around at them. Even Natasha. "I still don't get how you survived the machine," said Steve, frowning and moving around a noodle on his plate with his fork. "I mean…don't get me wrong, I'm obviously really glad you did. But the chances were so slim…"

"Soldier's been mentally tortured before," said Ari, stirring the pot. Her mouth pressed into a flat line and an angry glint came into her eyes, the way it always did when she spoke about the horrors HYDRA inflicted upon him. "I think maybe that had something to do with it. His mind was more used to extreme pain?"

"Very true," said Natasha. "His mind could easily have built up coping mechanisms to deal with extreme pain and torture that the rest of y—the rest of us wouldn't be able to handle." Nobody else seemed to notice her tiny slip but Bucky did and he looked at her very carefully, slowly thinking about what Natasha had just accidentally revealed about herself. Very interesting.

"All of you need to get checked out," said Ari, throwing spices and herbs into the pot. "You were incorrectly frozen in cryo and to be honest, I have no idea what that will do to you. You should be fine, but still, you need to get checked out."

"You're one to talk, you got tortured!" said Steve. "We'll all get checked out."

They heard a rustling sound from behind them and Bucky turned to see Sam sitting up on the sofa, rubbing his eyes with his fists. He yawned and then said, "Something smells good…"

"Dinner, courtesy of Ari," said Natasha. "Second serving. First one was demolished by the super-soldier brigade here." She hooked a thumb at Steve and Bucky. Steve gave Sam and innocent smile and Bucky looked down at his hands as if they were quite possibly the most interesting things he'd ever seen.

Sam sat down at the table and let out an appreciative noise as Ari set down the new bowls of food. "This looks freaking amazing, girl," he said. "Cute, professional nurse, knows how to cook, total badass when fighting HYDRA… Barnes, you're lucky you found her first."

Ari rolled her eyes and sat down and Bucky shook his head and scoffed lightly to himself, though he was smiling because he knew Sam was joking. (At least he hoped he was joking.) Smiling still felt a bit strange to him—something that he hesitated before doing—but it was slowly starting to feel more natural, now that he had all his memories back and remembered being a human with proper emotions.

For a while the only sounds in the kitchen were of Ari, Sam, and Natasha eating (and Natasha smacking Steve's hand as it crept towards another piece of bread) while Steve and Bucky sat there, both of them lost in thought. When it seemed like Ari, Sam, and Natasha were finally done eating, Bucky cleared his throat loudly. Everyone looked at him and he tried not shift uncomfortably in his chair. Giving orders had felt natural back at the HYDRA lair but it felt a bit strange now, to have everyone look at him as if his words meant something, were of importance or worth. He wasn't used to being looked at that way.

"So I think I should leave," he said. "Get out there on my own." He had been expecting some type of reaction—perhaps shock and exclamations of, "What? Why?" from Ari and Steve—but what he didn't expect was for everyone to exchange meaningful glances full of knowing.

"What?" he demanded.

"We talked about this, Barnes," said Sam, "before I went to sleep. While you were conked out. Ari here brought it up."

"Sorry, Soldier," Ari said apologetically. "I just knew you'd try to walk away or leave. Because you feel like you need to go out on your own. Either to make amends for what you've done or to keep us out of the line of fire. I don't know. But…"

"Girl knows you well," said Natasha, shrugging and raising her eyebrows. "You acted exactly like she said you would."

Bucky blinked and then he glared at Ari, who glared back at him, an obstinate expression crossing her face. She was right, of course. He felt fondness for this group of people but he had put them in harm's way because of him enough times already. They'd all just risked their lives to help him. He knew that his presence still put all of them in danger, especially considering that HYDRA was definitely not totally sunk and if anyone knew he was still alive and out there, there would be a large price on his head. He could handle himself…but only if he was alone. He couldn't handle the thought of one of these people getting killed because of him. "I'm just putting you all in danger—" he started.

"Save it, Barnes," said Natasha. "If anyone's putting us in danger, it's me. All my secrets were exposed just a few weeks ago, remember? I'm more prominent in the spotlight than you are. Most people still think you're just a ghost or a legend. A lot of people are going to be after me, now that everyone knows everything I've done." She sighed to herself, looking very exhausted for a moment, and then she shook her head and snapped back to. "So don't even give us that crap. We didn't go through that BS at the HYDRA building only to have you run off on us."

"Plus, you kind of can't," said Steve. "Once Ari convinced us you would do this, we took measures to ensure you wouldn't."

"What measures?" Bucky asked suspiciously.

"I've called Director Fury," said Natasha. "We're going in to meet him."

Nick Fury. The first person he'd "killed" back when this whole fiasco had started. Bucky knew nothing about him except that he was a tall black man who had been the director of SHIELD and he'd been his first target. "A priority," Alexander Pierce had told him. "Nick Fury must be taken out. Do you understand?" And the Winter Soldier had nodded mutely. He'd have to apologize to him as well, even though it burned him inside to do it because he hadn't chosen to kill all these people. But he was responsible nonetheless.

"How is that a 'measure'?" Bucky asked skeptically. He couldn't see how just calling this one man could stop him from leaving.

"Because Director Fury is a force to be reckoned with," said Natasha, smiling slightly. "If there's one man on Earth you don't want after you, it's him. He'll find you, no matter how long it takes. He found Dr. Banner and let's just say that Banner was hiding somewhere that no one else could ever have found. Besides, you're going to want to have a talk with him. I know he has some interesting things to discuss with you and you're a free man now. You need your options, right? You can't just wander aimlessly. Director Fury can help you with your goals."

"I thought SHIELD was done," said Bucky.

"SHIELD is as done as HYDRA is done," said Steve grimly. "Meaning not at all. HYDRA is still out there—we all know that—and so is SHIELD. Granted, SHIELD's a bit weaker than HYDRA now…"

"Or a lot weaker," said Ari. "Didn't you tell me you guys had like fifteen members now?"

"Right," said Steve, after a pause. "A lot weaker. But we're still here. And this time we're doing things differently. So you're going to want to talk to Fury, Buck. I don't always like his methods but he's a good man."

A good man was hard to find in this world. Bucky was surrounded by good people, good in their own ways, and he couldn't help but suppress the childish hope inside him that he could be a good man too. Not today, not even tomorrow—he still had dark stains he needed to try and make amends for—but one day he could the good Sergeant Barnes again. And if Natasha and Steve thought talking with this Nick Fury could help him on his way…then he'd do it. He didn't have any other options anyway, besides wandering aimlessly and trying to figure stuff out on his own. He still felt uneasy putting everyone's lives at risk by being with them—but then again, Natasha was right, wasn't she? She had a target painted on her back. Steve was Captain America, he'd always have people wanting to kill him. They were all dangerous in their own right.

"Fine," he said, taking a slow sip of his now ice-cold coffee. The caffeine sent a buzzing rush through his veins and made him feel more alert and awake. "I'll talk to him. I won't guarantee any more than that."

Natasha's lips curved up in a small smile. "That's all we're asking."