It couldn't be.

Bucky's mind was racing - still feeling slow from the odd slumber he had been in - as he looked over the man who wore Steve's face. How could that be? A long lost brother? A clone? His mind raced with questions but he could do little but sit there, slack jawed.

The man smiled, and Bucky made a near imperceivable noise. That expression was seared into his soul, he knew it well. It was the face Steve always made when he was sad but putting on a brave face. He saw it every time Bucky had saved his ass from a beating, every time he declined a double date because he couldn't afford to go out, every time Bucky begged him to come live with him after his parents were gone...

"Heya, Bucky." Good Lord, he had his voice. "Steve?" The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could think better of it. He was going to sound like a crazy person, assuming this 6'4" statuesque man before him was his Steve Rogers.

"Yeah, it's me." The man smiled and pulled the chair over to the bed Bucky was sitting on, putting them on slightly more equal footing.

Everyone else seemed to fade away and he focused solely on the man who said he was Steve. "How...?"

"It's a long story," he said, clapping his hand gently on Bucky's knee. "But its me."

Suddenly, everything was far away; the war, how he got here, why everything seemed so smooth and alien. All that mattered was that Steve was here, and why he looked like The David in a button up shirt. "How...I mean... Steve, my God...look at you?" His eyes journeys over the body of his best friend. Someone who, at least as far as he remembered, was a nearly impossibly skinny boy, with legs and arms like sticks and a rattle to his breath. Most people assumed the 20 year old man was still in high school, and because of that, hardly anyone would ever take him seriously. His babyface with those perfect pouty lips and stunningly clear blue eyes didn't help matters much. But this... this man was perfect by all outwards accounts. Bucky swallowed; he was so used to keeping his...appreciation...of the male form hidden to everyone. But surely, no one could deny that this man had a figure that would make anyone stumble over their words. His shoulders were broad, and the fabric on the shirt of his arms stretched perfectly over muscles - not tight enough to bulge but tight enough to know they were perfectly sculpted. His waist was narrow, his thighs defined and portioned just perfectly under his khaki pants. He couldn't be his Steve - even if Steve had somehow gotten miraculously cured of all his ills this man had to be well over six feet tall.

"Sergeant Barnes," the other man spoke. He was shorter, but had intelligent eyes and a disarming smile. "My name is Phil Coulson. I'm the director of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division." "Wha?" Bucky wasn't prepared to listen to this man. He was still focused on this man who wore Steve's face. He reluctantly pulled his eyes from Steve to look over, blinking.

"SHIELD." Somewhere in Bucky's foggy mind, he remembered SHIELD was the acronym plastered over all the agents in blacks' uniforms.

"What am I doing here? What happened to Steve? Why is my arm..." Steve put a hand on Bucky's right shoulder and he shut up immediately. His heart was pounding in his chest and the anxiety form the confusion was rising in his throat. "Sergeant Barnes," Coulson started again. He didn't sound annoyed, far from it. His voice was comforting and patient. "You'll be fully debriefed, but there were some...complications resulting in your captivity as a POW during WWII." "POW?" Bucky felt the blood drain form his face. He had been captured behind enemy lines then. "Did we win?" he gulped out, hoping the answer was yes considering.

"We won," Coulson said with a nod. "Thanks to soldiers like yourself and Captain Rogers. But there were casualties."
"Captain?" What? Steve couldn't have enlisted into the army... and be a Captain? His eyes darted back over to Steve, who was sitting and listening patiently, his crystal blue eyes never leaving Bucky's face and his sad, serious, comforting half-smile plastered to his face.
Coulson continued. "You were captured by HYDRA. Do you remember them?" Bucky swallowed, and tried to think. "They were part of the Nazi science division. We were supposed to infiltrate one of their bases..."

"That's right," Coulson said. His voice was so even, so full of patience and compassion and professionalism. "You were assumed dead, but they brought you back. Gave you that arm. Unfortunately, there were some side effects." Bucky's face burned. Of course there were side effects. He had a fucking metal arm.

"Unfortunately, we had to deliver a procedure that wiped some of your memory. What is the last thing you remember?" Bucky swallowed, his mouth tugging into a line. "Being in Italy. In the 107th." No one seemed surprised, but Coulson, Steve, and the woman exchanged glances.

"That's good," Coulson said. "But there there is a lot you're going to have to get used to. Some considerable time has passed since then." Bucky's eyes darted back over to Steve. No kiddin. He looked back to Coulson, silently pleading for more of an explanation. How long was he gone? Months? Years? "How much time?" "Its 2014," he said after drawing a breath.

Bucky felt like had he just been plunged into a vat of ice water. That couldn't possibly be right. He wouldn't be alive, much less still have the body of a young man. "No," he said, as if he simply refused to believe it.
"It's true, Buck," Steve said, squeezing his right shoulder. "You were asleep for a lot of it. Just like me." "Asleep? Like you?" No, it was too much information and once and Bucky felt a bit nauseous.

"It's a long story," Steve said. "Very long," Coulson agreed. "But I'll let the Captain fill in the gaps. I just wanted to personally welcome you to SHIELD. We'll be monitoring you very closing, to make sure the procedure has gone as planned. Please, your cooperation is appreciated." Bucky snorted, how dare he assumed he would consent. He didn't know these people, or where he was. Though...if this was really Steve, then he had no other choice. If Steve trusted him, he would trust them. But the number of questions running through his addled mind was distracting. "What do I have to do?" he asked weakly. "Just rest, for now." Coulson held out his hand for a handshake. "We'll run some tests once you're feeling more up for it." Bucky weakly reached over with his human, right hand and shook, looking over to Steve who seemed to approve. "Okay," he said flatly.

"Nice to meet you, Barnes. Again." He smiled and Bucky felt instantly calmed though he didn't know why. Coulson turned his attention to the man wearing Steve's face. "He's all yours, Captain."

He motioned, and everyone seemed to follow him out, save Steve.