Disclaimer: I own none of the publicly recognizable features of this story. I just like to manipulate them as if I was Loki and I had the tesseract.

Chapter 4

Steve sat on the couch next to Bucky, their shoulders touching as he showed him the easiest way to use the remote. It was weird, he decided, to be on the other side of this experience. He was so used to being the one that something had to be shown to instead of the one who was doing the showing that he kept staring at the remote as if he expected all the knowledge he had about it to disappear and for him to have to call Tony in to help him.

As Bucky leaned over and pushed one of the buttons clumsily, startling when the TV flashed on. His movements were clumsy as he leaned forward and used his still existing arm to prop up his chin and Steve felt guilt flash low in his stomach as he looked at the nub where an arm had once been.

"Hey, what's with the face?" Bucky looked over at Steve, knowing exactly what Steve was thinking but hoping that maybe saying it out loud would force him to realize how stupid he was being. Steve stared back evenly at him, a memory flashing behind his eyes, a different face with dark hair, an accompanying finger poking jovially into his cheek, but it was gone before he could see the details, could remember when a moment like that had happened.

"I'm sorry Bucky," Steve confessed, his voice barely breaking. "If I had saved you just a moment sooner, if I had grabbed you just a bit faster, you wouldn't be in this mess."

"What mess?" Bucky challenged, raising his eyebrows. "I mean, being in the future is a bit odd, but I still have everyone I care about around."

"But, your arm," Steve ducked his head, gazing at Bucky tearfully. "I'm just, I'm sorry Bucky. I didn't mean to fail you."

"Steve," Bucky looked straight at his best friend, seriousness looking unnatural on his usually easy-natured face. "You haven't failed me. Never have, never will. And even if you do, I can take care of myself. Because I'm with you, until the end of the line." He wasn't surprised at all when Steve leaned over and carefully wrapped his arms around him. His best friend had always been a hugger. Bucky liked that about him, even though you would have to torture him to admit it. It was nice to know that no matter how big Steve's shoulders were they were always there for him to lean on.

A floorboard creaked and both heads, one dark and the other one light turned around to spot Tony standing uncertainly in the doorway.

"Hey Tony," Bucky raised his one hand in greeting, barely holding back the desire to tell Tony to get over here and not so subtly dump him into Steve's lap. He watched as Steve's eyes lit up as they ran over Tony's body.

"Was there something you needed?" Steve asked as Clint pushed past Tony into the room.

"I, um," Tony was uncertain, which seemed so completely out of place that Steve started to get really worried. "I need Bucky."

"Oh," Steve said, trying not to let his disappointment show. Bucky squeezed Steve's shoulders one last time and then got awkwardly off of the couch and walked towards Tony. Jealousy erupted in Steve's chest.

"Don't worry, he's probably just going with him so Tony can work on his arm," Clint said from where he was fiddling with a game controller. Steve frowned in confusion and then gave a short laugh when he figured it out.

Clint thought he was jealous because of Bucky.