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Chapter 6: Mission Happiness

When Steve and Sam came back with armfuls of groceries, the house was silent. Steve's instinct was to be immensely anxious. When Steve looked over at Sam, his face betrayed his worry, yet Sam reassured him. "I'm sure he's just…takin' a nap, or somethin'."

With all Bucky's been through, Steve knew he hadn't been sleeping well. Why would now be any different? With hesitation, he began walking further into the house. He heard nothing. Approaching the kitchen, he saw a glimmer of light coming from the dining room table. As he stepped closer, the full view of the table top came into his eyesight. Lined up from one end to the other, every knife from Sam's household stood at attention, blades north, ready for come what may. They were even arranged by size, with the larger ones closer to the inside of the house.

Steve started when he felt the movement from the hallway. He turned to see Bucky entering the kitchen. "Buck?" He began, looking back at the knives. "You alright?"

Sam, feeling the tension thicken in the room, knew this was not his place. "I'll uh, be in my room if you guys need anything." With that, he left Steve and Bucky to themselves.

Bucky moved into the light of the kitchen. His face looked worn and exhausted; deep circles that Steve hadn't noticed before were forming under his eyes from lack of sleep. "What's going on?" Steve tried again.

"I thought we might, y'know, need protection." Bucky slid his hands in his pockets and looked down at his feet, shrugging as if it were nothing. "I may not remember everything, Steve, but I know that you're important to me." Steve felt himself relax yet collapse from the idea that he knew what was coming. "I know it's dangerous for me to even be staying here, near you. They might come looking for me – " Steve began to shake his head but Bucky continued. "And if they do, I want to be ready. I have a feeling you don't want me just leaving."

Steve offered Bucky a slight half-grin. "Never." He walked around the table to come closer to Bucky, let him know he was there for him. "I don't want you to feel like this is your fault. You know I can fend for myself now, don't you? And you're not a burden." Steve placed his hand on Bucky's shoulder, to which he responded by looking up towards the ceiling as if his tears would spill over. The wall was breaking; Steve's touch dissolved it, the way that salt dissolved ice, revealing layers of hurt and anger that spilled across Bucky's face.

Once Steve got the chance, he made eye contact with Bucky. "What's this about, huh? What got you so worried like this?"

Bucky drew in a shaky breath. "This morning, I heard you on the phone. You sounded so worried and I …you wouldn't tell me…So I just wanted to be prepared."

Steve let out a breath and relax, dropping his hand from Bucky's shoulder. "Aw, Buck. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have worried you…It was the museum. They called to report some suspicious activity on their security cameras a few months ago. I told them it was me." Bucky looked at Steve, surprised. "I guess you're not the only one who thinks a baseball hat is a good enough cover." Steve smirked.

Bucky chuckled and shook his head. He knew they had really called about him. Maybe saw him steal the photo. But maybe Steve really had been there, too. Either way, Bucky knew Steve was just covering for him. He drew in a deep breath and pressed his lips together, trying to find the words to say. "Steve…I don't know what to do with myself." Steve looked up at him, eyes listening. "I've always had something to focus on, something to put my mind to. A mission." Even as he said it, Bucky couldn't look Steve in the face, but he felt his eyes on him. "Nothing…makes sense. It comes and it goes… and I hate thinking."

Steve could see that Bucky was struggling with words, struggling with what he felt, even. He hadn't seen that look, much less that face, in such a long time. And he had missed it. Right now he hated seeing Bucky sad, hated seeing him so broken. This was his childhood friend, the one that followed him to the jaws of death and wouldn't leave the site of an explosion without him. That Bucky was strong, and Steve had a feeling that Bucky was still in there somewhere. Somewhere beneath all the pain that was too obviously written across his manner.

"Well you know what?" Steve waited until he could get Bucky's eye contact. "Those times are over. We've got each other, 'til the end of the line." Steve didn't care how much Bucky truly understood the significance of his words; they were true. He placed his hand on Bucky's shoulder once again. "Your mission now is to be happy."

Bucky looked up at Steve, smiled, and said, "Mission Happiness." Steve smiled back.

End.