Three days later.
Bucky sat on the couch, his right arm snuggly against his chest in a soft sling. Liberty lay stretched out across his lap, tongue lolling happily as he rubbed her stomach with his now fully operational bionic hand. It had taken the young dog at least a day to adjust to her owner have a confusing and, for a little pup, frightening metal appendage; but she was quite collected now. Steve emerged from the hallway, taking a seat next to Bucky, gently nudging his knee.
"I finally got all the bloodstains out of my carpet." He commented. They had been finding flecks of blood everywhere over the past few days. Bucky smirked grimly.
"Does that take care of it then?" He asked and Steve nodded, huffing a sigh of relief.
"I think it does, thank god…I can finally walk through my house without smelling stain remover."
"So…" Bucky ventured after a moment. "You…never really told me how your meeting with Fury went." He prompted, and Steve glanced over at him smiling faintly.
"Well, I'll be honest with you, at first, he was pissed. You know, bottom line rules and stuff like that…But…I told him about you…about everything you'd done and all the progress you'd made. He didn't really…soften I guess, but it got to the point where I think he believed me. Convincing him about the arm is what really took a long time. Also…" He said uncertainly, glancing briefly up at Bucky. "I've made an agreement with him. It's tentative, it has it's restrictions, and it's conditions…I won't be perfect-"
"Steve," Bucky said, smirking faintly at him. "Just spit it out already." Steve licked his lips, locking gazes with his old friend.
"You're free."
Bucky blinked rapidly, staring at Steve. "What?" He asked incredulously.
"You're free." Steve repeated. "You and I have to live together still, I'm kind of…your probation officer to make sure you keep behaving yourself…but you're free…Not more handcuffs, not more perimeter. You and I can go places, see things. If you want…we can even find somewhere else to live. A town, a nice city…New York if you like…" Bucky swallowed hard, licking his lips.
"But you'll stay with me," He pressed urgently. "You're not going to disappear on me because I can't do this on my own…I'm…better…when I'm with you…" Steve reached out, resting his hand reassuringly between his shoulder blades.
"Don't worry Buck. I'm with you, till the end of the line."
Bucky allowed himself a real smile; not a twitch of the lips, not a dry sarcastic smirk, a real smile. "Then if you don't mind…our little hideaway here has kind of grown on me…."
"Well then," Steve said, looking around the house, with its open windows and soft carpets. He breathed in the smell of the pine coming through from the tree line, and heard Liberty's quiet, contented panting. "Welcome home…"