Bucky woke up in pain. His skin stung and pulled when he breathed. He felt more like himself, though… or at least his best approximation of himself… than he had in a long time.

What the hell had happened to him? He tried to separate the dreams from his present reality. His right side burned when he shifted. He could feel tight bandages around his shoulder, chest, and hand. His fingers stung viciously when he tried to move them.

He didn't remember falling asleep, but he'd woken up alone. … No, that wasn't right...Not alone. The Winter Soldier had been there. He was always there. Reflecting in that dim gleam of the unwanted metal arm, staring out at him, covered in blood. Who's blood... he didn't want to know. He didn't really remember what he'd done to be rid of the reflected ghost, but it must've been bad…

Steve wouldn't look him in the eye anymore, and he wouldn't leave the room either.

"Hey pal... you ok?" He lifted his head and winced.

"Oh… yeah. I'm fine… How are you feeling?"

"Shitty, actually. Kinda feel like my arm got ripped off… again."

Steve stared at him, cautiously. It was the longest he'd seen the familiar old Bucky mannerisms come through since he'd lost Bucky on that train. He was almost afraid to say anything and break the spell, for fear they'd fade away and be lost again.

"Yeah... well that's because it just about did."

"Ah…" Bucky laid back again, trying to get comfortable. It wasn't really working. "What'd I do this time?"

"You tried to cut your artificial arm out." Steve informed him bluntly, instantly regretting it. Stress was making him harsh.

"Oh." Bucky mentally reconstructed the scene. Eeesh…

"Steve… I'm sorry. Look, this isn't fair to you. I'm fucked up, sure, but it's not your fault. You don't have to feel responsible for my… well, whatever the hell this is. This isn't like when we were kids. Pulling jerks off of you in an alley and taking on HYDRA's bullshit are kind of on different levels."

"No... they're not." Steve pulled up a chair beside the bed. "Buck, you were always right there with me, no matter what happened. First it was bullies, then it was Nazis, then it was HYDRA. No matter what, you always had my back. You need me right now, Bucky. And I'm staying right here with you."

"Said it before, I'll say it again. You always were too dumb to run away from a fight." A faint grin split Bucky's face. In spite of the burning sting that pricked across his skin, he shifted himself up on his uninjured arm.

Steve snorted, tension breaking. "Look who's talking!"

"Hey, at least I could usually take the guys trying to kick my ass! I didn't make a career out of getting it handed to me in the parking lot."

"I was building up my technique."

"Oh is that what you're calling it now?"

"Smart-ass."

"Nancy-boy."

"Yeah, well, you just wait until you're all better, then we'll see who's the Nancy-boy."

"Oh... sure, big talk from the guy that wears tights to work." Bucky grinned at him.

A sense of their old ease settled down between them. Steve smiled genuinely for the first time in weeks. He leaned back in his chair.

"You promise not to cut off any body parts if I go get us some coffee?"

"Do my best."

"I swear, you better have all your pieces where they belong when I get back, or I'm drinking yours."