Bucky appeared in the kitchen ten minutes late. He was white as a sheet and looked like a spooked deer. Steve looked up from where he had set two plates of fruit-topped pancakes on the table, a look of concern on his open, honest face.

"Hey there pal," He said, daring to use the more familiar terminology, "Doing alright?" Bucky blinked rapidly, drawing in a shaky breath. He wanted to shut him out, give him a frigid nod and ignore everything else, but he found himself answering despite himself.

"I don't know." He said hesitantly, feeling vulnerable.

"Want to talk about what happen in there?" Steve pressed. Bucky opened his mouth soundlessly, again blinking rapidly, as though trying to clear his thoughts.

"I…" He paused, swallowing hard. "I thought…I thought I remembered something." He rasped, staring at Steve, his gaze searching, desperate for answers.

Steve felt a flutter of hope in his chest, but he forced himself to contain it. He took a steadying breath, nodding slowly. "Want to tell me about it?" He prompted.

"No…" Bucky said slowly, looking like he was considering his options. "No, I need to think about it for a while yet…"

The blond haired man swallowed back his disappointment, nodding slowly. "Alright Buck. You don't need to talk about right now…But let's make a deal okay?" He offered, and Bucky looked up at him, meeting his gaze. "We'll eat breakfast, and then you and I can walk around the property a little bit. If you're ready, we can talk then…"

"What about the perimeter?" Bucky asked, a little bit of suspicion returning to his voice. All he could picture was walking through the woods with Steve, and letting his guard down for a few moments to talk about the painful and confusing memories, only to have a bullet tear through his chest and kill him instantly. He didn't want that. He hated to admit, but he was scared of that.

Steve gentle smile was almost reassurance enough. "Don't worry; as long as I'm with you you're perfectly safe. Just don't ever decide to take a stroll by yourself okay?" The tiny twitch at the corner of the Winter Soldier's mouth set Steve's chest alight with hope. That had very nearly been a smile! "Deal?" He prompted.

Bucky nodded, sinking into his chair across from Steve. "Deal."

Bucky was silent through all of breakfast, and this time, Steve knew better than to press him for information. The more he let Bucky digest what had happened that morning, the more willing he would be to talk about it. None the less, his insides burned with curiosity. He was dying to ask him what he remembered, but he stuffed the urge, knowing that he couldn't pester him about it.

Once they had both eaten their fill and the dishes were clean at set aside, Steve walked over to the door. "Ready?" asked, earning a silent nod from Bucky. The blond haired man bent down, pulling his sneakers on before pausing to stare for a moment at Bucky's bare feet. He hummed thoughtfully. "No shoes, huh?" He mused and Bucky shook his head, speaking for the first time since before breakfast.

"They're too easily used as weapons. I wasn't allowed any." Steve pursed his lips, and then a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Well, you'll need something to walk in and I'm pretty sure I can find you something a little less lethal than sneakers."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"No." Bucky said simply, looking down at the flip-flops hanging from Steve's hand. He was used to combat boots, with pockets and zippers that could conceal weapons and poisons. Sneakers were a step down, flip-flops were unacceptable.

"Do you want to walk or not?" Steve asked, dropping them on the floor by his feet. There was a smirk lingering conspicuously just behind his lips that said he would have his way. "The fresh air will be good for you." He prompted. He was met with an ugly glare from the Winter Soldier.

Moments later Steve strolled out of the door, Bucky following behind him, the flip-flops slapping happily against his heels with each step.

The two strolled along in silence for some time, walking slowly, allowing their stomachs to settle. Once they had walked deep into the woods Steve turned to his companion. "So Bucky, about this morning," He prompted gently. Bucky made no initial response and Steve continued hesitantly, "Can you tell me what you remembered."

"It wasn't much." He said coolly, trying desperately to keep his walls up, trying desperately to keep Steve Rodgers from sneaking into his heart. "It may not have been anything at all."

Steve nodded slowly. "Okay…Tell me anyways." He said directly. Bucky was a little taken aback by the abruptness of his statement and faltered a moment.

"Mmm…There was…a house…or an apartment…" He said hesitantly, his brow knitting together in a deep frown. "It was cold…I remember that much…the floor was like ice, and there was only one bed. It was narrow, and hard…the blanket was thin…" He murmured, describing the details as they came to him. He hadn't remembered this much about the house this morning, but little snippets of memory were emerging from the amnesic fog like easily startled deer.

A tiny laugh from Steve caught his attention and he turned to see the man staring at his with that same look of bitter-sweet affection that was so often etched on his face. "Buck…That's my old apartment, the one in Brooklyn, 1942…You always complained about how cold the floor was." He said with a small smile. "You said I'd freeze to death in there someday."

Bucky felt his chest constrict with unwanted emotion. Steve spoke so freely about this, and still he couldn't make himself recall what he was being told. Had he really cared about Steve that much at one point, that he would be worried about him freezing in a poorly heated home? He shook the notion away. Maybe, but it did no good to work himself up over it now.

"Was there anything else?" He asked, deciding it would be safe to pry just a little bit more.

Bucky pinched his lips together, his eyes dropping to the soft carpet of pine-needles beneath his feet. "A uniform…a man…" He murmured and Steve inclined his head slightly.

"Okay…What did he look like?"

The former assassin felt his heart-rate speeding up. Part of him didn't want to describe the man from his memory, because he knew more memories would come, and he had just barely begun to cope with these ones. But none the less, he found his lips parting, and honest words escaping into the cool morning air.

"He was small…thin…but there was something about him that was bigger than I was. He was brave…and stupid…" He murmured, feeling that same tightening in his chest. "He was…important…" to me. The last two words tried to push past his lips, but he swallowed them back, dropping his gaze to the ground. "That's it. There was nothing else." Bucky was terrified to look up and see Steve's expression. He kept his eyes rooted firmly to the ground.

If Bucky had had the courage to look up, the expression wore bare on Steve's face would have broken his heart. He stared at the other man, wordless, and stunned. There was pain in his expression, but hope as well. Some part of Bucky, deep in there somewhere, remembered him; maybe not as he was now, but as the scrawny little punk from Brooklyn who would pick a fight with anything with a pulse. All of the words Steve knew seemed inadequate, and for the first time, it was Bucky who had something to say when Steve could say nothing.

"You look different now Steve." He said quietly, pinching his lips together. Steve took a steadying breath, his mind pitched into a turmoil of activity; a frenzy of excitement and tentative hope. His breath escaped him in a soft bark of laughter and he nodded his head.

"Yeah," He laughed breathlessly, "Yeah I do…" A smile tugged at his lips and he shook his head. "Bucky," Steve smiled, feeling like he'd gained a piece of his friend back, "It's good to have you back." Steve allowed himself one moment, just one moment to let his guard down; one moment to celebrate the progress that had been made. He stepped forward, moving to hug Bucky as he had wanted to do so desperately and for so long.

With a rough smack Bucky's forearm hit Steve's windpipe and he launched himself backwards, skidding on the pine needles. Steve gave a half-choked gasp of alarm, his hand flying to his throat to figure out exactly what had just happened. In the second it had taken Bucky's killer's instincts to kick in, he knew he had made a deadly mistake. Red points appeared all over his chest, the direction of their beams disappearing deep into the woods.

Steve's word's died in his throat, his voice box shocked by the sudden blow, but he too saw the snipers' marks. A strangled rasp escaped him and he swallowed quickly, raising his hoarse voice again.

"No!" He shouted, his voice projecting around the forest. "Stand down!"

There was a moment of deathly silence as Bucky stood, his hand raised, heart pounding in his chest. One by one the little red dots flickered away from his head and chest, until they had all vanished. A slow breath of relief escaped both men, Bucky slowly lowering his arm. His tongue slid slowly between his lips as he looked hesitantly up at Steve.

"I'm sorry," He murmured, unable to hold eye-contact with Steve for more than a few seconds. Steve, still catching his breath, nodded slowly.

"It's okay, I shouldn't have startled you," He said in return, feeling foolish now. It had been too much good to believe that those few memories would have freed Bucky to trust him again. He had been too badly abused for too long for him to accept physical contact without fear.

An awkward silence stretched between them for several long moments before Bucky ventured a few more words.

"Steve?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah Buck?"

"I like being outside…It's open…can we walk for a bit longer?"

A tired smile tugged at the Captain's lips and he nodded, suppressing the urge to clap him gently on the shoulder. "Sure. I think there's a lake a little further along.