They give him people to talk to. Doctors to fuss over him – but they only put him on edge. It was trauma to the nerves, they tell him. After so long in the ice, there wasn't anything we could do but amputate. They offer him prosthetics, but those only lie in the corner of his dark apartment, unused. He just… can't.

Well, he's far more interested in when they give him the files he asks for.

And yet. He's still not prepared to see [DECEASED] stamped in bold red letters across almost all the files. Jim. Monty, Jacques… Dugan. Gabe is the only one left. He sets aside the last file from the other four, glancing at the address printed on it.

And Steve's file is the next one. [MIA]. He stares at it for a long moment. Puts it carefully beside Gabe's file. There's still a small sheaf of files left, and Howard's is on top. [DECEASED]. Then Phillips'. [DECEASED]. And Peggy –

There are no big bold red letters across her file. Just a smaller header below her picture pronouncing, 'RETIRED'. He looks again at her picture. Sets the file down on top of Steve's.

And finally, a report with a face that does knock the air right out of his lungs.

Rebecca. He glances across the paper quickly – 'RETIRED'. Reassured, he scans through the lists they have on her. His little sister ended up working for SHIELD. His gaze travels to the picture. She's… older than he remembers in this. Then again, the last time he saw her was before he got deployed. She had just turned twenty.

Just you wait, Buck. I'm gonna help out in the war effort. Just 'cause I'm a girl don't mean I can't serve my country just like you.

There aren't files on the rest of his sisters. Just Becky. And the last file is a face he doesn't recognise. Tony Stark. Howard's son.

Fury must have put that in for a reason, he muses, and then sits back, staring at the two piles he's created. The living and the dead. He can't stand looking at them anymore, and soon gets up and leaves the apartment.

Everything has changed, and yet nothing has. It's the weekend, he thinks, so the families are out in the shops and walking down the streets. They don't look at him - he's taken to wearing longer sleeves. Somehow, it stops people staring, like they don't even notice he's different unless they look closely.

And soon the doctors let him go. He doesn't feel fixed, but they stop making appointments. And he is a ghost now, out of time, out of place.

Fury approaches him in a café one quiet afternoon. "Barnes," he greets him. "Mind if I join you?"

Bucky shrugs, rotating his coffee cup one way, then the other. He hasn't touched the drink, and he can feel that it's gone cold. Fury inclines his head towards it curiously.

"Don't have a taste for coffee?"

"Not today," Bucky responds. "You're here with a mission, sir."

Fury nods. "Sharp as always, Sergeant."

Bucky gives a mirthless smile. "If you want me back out in the world," he gestures around. "I'm kinda already in it. Sir."

"Good, cause we're trying to save it."

That gets his attention. Fury drops an official-looking folder on the table and leans back to watch as Bucky picks it up. He flicks open the file, and his stomach drops. The Tesseract.

"I thought I took care of that thing before I went into the ice," he says sharply. Fury nods.

"You did your job, Sergeant, and you did it to perfection."

"So how come you were able to lose the cube again, if that's what happened?"

"Howard Stark went looking for you. Instead, he found the Tesseract. Looking at it, we figured it could be the key to solving a lot of our problems, and we pulled in some bright minds, started working on unlocking it." Fury gives him a mirthless smile. "Of course, the guy who stole it from us had other ideas. He's called Loki."

Bucky sets the file back down on the table and presses his mouth into a thin line. Fury regards him for a long moment. "There's a lot we'll need to bring you up to speed on if you're in. The world has gotten to be a very strange place."

Bucky shrugs, fixing his smile back into place. "Sir, you're gonna have a hell of a time surprising me at this point."

"Ten bucks says you're wrong." There's a spark in Fury's eye as he says it. Bucky nods.

"Alright." He picks up the cold coffee and stands. "But I don't get why you need me. I saw the file on Stark's son. Is he in on this?"

"We're working on it. You won't be alone in this mission – you'll be part of a team called the Avengers."

"Right. But with all due respect, sir, I don't see how I can help you." He means a lot of things when he says that.

"I don't doubt that you can," Fury replies coolly. "You just don't see it yet. Just… give me a call once you've thought it over."

Bucky leaves without another word, downing the cold coffee and tossing the cup into a trashcan as he passes. His distinct lack of an arm feels tenfold, now. What the hell does Fury see in him, a sharpshooter who can't even hold a rifle anymore?

He gives in. Maybe he's just restless; maybe he's just curious. He stares at the prosthetic arm on the table as he hangs up the phone. It's hideous. He hates it. But, somehow, he finds himself clumsily retracing the steps he'd been taught to put it on. They explained to him how it works, but there's still a detached wonder as he flexes the flesh-and-blood stump and the cold steel of the prosthetic responds, bending at the elbow without a sound. Slower than a normal arm, but still responds.

He's not going to get used to that, he thinks, despairingly, but gives himself no time to think twice. He grabs his keys, casts a long glance around the apartment that's remained nothing but a shell, one plate on the counter, a jacket hanging off the back of a chair. He'll come back, of course, but that gives him no comfort.

It's not a long walk from his apartment to the SHIELD facility. So, he relishes the opportunity to clear his head. It hasn't been terribly difficult to piece together how the cellphone provided for him is supposed to work – and it's a handy little thing. Its weight in his pocket, surprisingly, has become familiar.

The air has a definite bite this morning, and in any case he's grateful to step inside the double doors of the building he'd last walked out of nearly a month ago. An agent who introduces himself as Coulson quickly scurries up to him and leads him through unfamiliar halls until they reach a hangar.

"This is the jet," Coulson tells him, gesturing towards a sleek, yet hulking almost-plane. Bucky eyes it fearfully. Somehow it looks more like it'll fall apart than even the sorts of planes back in '45.

"Where we going?" He asks, curious. Or maybe just trying to distract himself from the metal death trap they're about to get on. Coulson all but puffs up with pride as they step aboard.

"It's called the Helicarrier. You'll… you'll see. It'll be great."

Bucky takes a seat in one of the chairs lined up at the sides of the jet. This brings back memories. He glances at the straps hanging off his seat and doesn't touch them, settling back. Coulson sits across from him, making an obvious effort to watch the pilot for takeoff – and Bucky's stomach lurches as the jet groans to life. And then they're in the air. The hangar doors are quickly lifted, and they ascend into the sky.

Whatever self-control Coulson has been working to uphold evaporates, and he swivels his gaze towards Bucky, looking for all the world like a kid on Christmas.

"So, what was it like? Fighting beside Captain America?"

Somehow, not a thing in the world could have prepared Bucky for that question to fall from this agent's mouth. He pauses, thinking of the endless interviews from back in the day. Captain America fans, some so ignorant of the war effort that it was physically painful to sit there, force a smile and answer their gushing questions. Or, more often than not, have to sit back and watch them ask Steve all the questions and give Bucky and the others dirty looks whenever they came to their friend's aid.

But, all the same, it's a bitter reminder that Steve is not here to privately roll his eyes at Bucky. Bucky averts his gaze. "Not exactly fun, cause of the situation back then. But Steve's – was. A good man." he manages, eventually.

Maybe Coulson senses his discomfort, because he doesn't press further. Instead, after a jagged silence, he clears his throat and produces a device from his pocket. He presses something, and images appear within the two brackets. He hands it to Bucky.

"The mission brief," he explains, unhelpfully, when Bucky shoots him a helpless look. "And a run-through of everyone you'll be working with."

The longer he looks at the thing, the less it seems to make sense. Instead, he turns his attention to the words and images fixed within the… screen.

That is suddenly easier to understand. It gives a name and a blurry security picture – LOKI. Locate and retrieve the Tesseract. Capture Loki. Makes sense. He touches the screen tentatively, swiping downwards, and the next sequence is a set of names listed under "AVENGERS initiative".

Tony Stark – that's Howard's son. He'd been reading his file earlier. So, Fury's got him on board after all. Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner.

"Small team," he states.

"We're having a little trouble finding the best of what we got," Coulson responds with a smile. "But you're all exceptional in your ways. We need that now."

"I don't doubt that you can. You just don't see it yet." Bucky scoffs to himself. So, they're just desperate. But, he nods politely to Coulson and turns his attention back to the screen, to read about his teammates.

"Hey," Coulson says, lowering his voice a notch. "Is it… true? About the serum?"

"You should talk to Fury about that," Bucky replies flatly. Coulson is clearly dissatisfied with that answer, but Bucky doesn't care. He takes a steadying breath, and clicks on the name Tony Stark. It pulls up another panel, showing off a list of images of suits and technology. It's going to be a long plane ride.

When they finally land, an agent comes up to greet them.

"Agent Romanoff," Coulson introduces her, and Bucky straightens. She's part of the team, then; he hadn't recognised her straight away. "This is Sergeant Barnes."

She barely spares him a glance. "Hi," she tells him, before turning her attention to Coulson. "They need you on the bridge."

Coulson skitters off, tossing a see you there over his shoulder. Agent Romanoff relaxes ever so slightly, and this time when she looks at Bucky, she gives him a warmer smile. "It was quite the buzz around here, pulling a guy out of the ice."

She gestures for him to follow her, and he obliges, casting a glance around at their surroundings. He saw the carrier on the way down, of course. But it's odd being on one. He can't see anything except ocean in every direction, all the way to the horizon.

"So, did Coulson bother you much about being friends with Captain America?"

That earns a laugh out of him. "Not too much, ma'am."

"You know, he has these Captain America trading cards?"

"Trading cards?" That's… surprising, almost even pleasantly so. "I remember those. Didn't think they'd still be doing that, given…"

"You'd be surprised how much of the world hasn't really changed," she replies. "But, Coulson's very proud. They're vintage. We hear all about it very often. Look," she points towards a lost-looking man ahead. "That's doctor Banner. We should go rescue him."

She calls the man's attention as they get closer. Another face he recognises from the files. He worked to try to recreate the supersoldier serum, the files had told him. But it'd gone wrong, leaving Banner to have to contend with keeping 'the Hulk' under control.

But Banner just looks out of place here, and hesitant. Bucky can't reconcile the footage they'd had on this 'Hulk' with the timid man before him. "Bucky Barnes," he introduces himself, reaching out for a handshake. Banner seems vaguely surprised.

"Oh, yeah, hi," Banner greets, blinking at him, accepting his hand. "They told me you'd be coming."

Bucky nods slowly. "They said you could find the cube?"

"Yeah. I think." Banner squints at him. "Is that… all they said about me?"

"Nah, but if we're gonna do this, then that's all that matters to me," Bucky assures him. Banner's expression softens, and he gives a quick nod.

"I guess this is all a bit strange to you," the scientist offers. Bucky just shrugs.

"Calls me crazy, but this?" He glances around at the soldiers running through their drills. "This is the most familiar thing I've seen since they took me out of the ice."

"Gentlemen," Romanoff interrupts. "We might want to step inside in a minute. It's about to get a little hard to breathe."

On cue, the ship rumbles and gives a jolt, and Banner turns to move closer to the edge. Bucky soon follows to see a massive propellor lifting out of the water and locking into place. Alarmed, he glances down towards the other end to see the same thing. And it only takes a moment for the water to start falling away.

It takes a second longer to realise that it's because the ship is lifting into the air. Banner turns to him with a grim expression.

"If this thing had turned into a submarine right then, I'd still be able to say that this? This is worse."

Romanoff soon insists that they come inside, so they follow along behind her. She leads them into a grand room full of agents working at… computers – he finds some satisfaction in being able to name the devices, even though they look very different to what he remembers – and Fury standing, hands clasped behind his back, in the center of it all.

"Let's vanish," the man instructs the room before turning to them. "Gentlemen."

Without a word, Bucky pulls a ten dollar bill out of his pocket and hands it to Fury before turning to survey the room. You could fit his old apartment in here about fifty times and there'd still be room, he muses.

"So where are we on the god guy?" He asks, glancing over at Fury.

Coulson quickly jumps in. "We're sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet. Cellphones, laptops. If it's connected to a satellite, it's eyes and ears for us."

Bucky's almost proud to think that he does in fact understand what half of that means. But it has an uneasy feeling settling in his stomach. He's not gonna be looking at any of this new technology the same way again, knowing that. Great.

"It's still not gonna find them in time," Romanoff says bitterly.

"You have to narrow your field," Banner says hesitantly. "How many spectrometers do you have access to?"

Fury gives him a blank look. "How many are there?"

A change comes over Banner – his shoulders seem to set, a gleam of focus enters his eye, and Bucky just knows that he's not gonna understand any of the jargon in the conversation from that point on. "Alright. Call every lab you know. Tell them to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays. I'll rough out a tracking algorithm, basic cluster recognition. At least we could rule out a few places. Do you have somewhere for me to work?"

"Agent Romanoff, could you show Doctor Banner to his laboratory, please?" Fury watches the two go before he turns back to Bucky. "So. It about everything you expected?"

Bucky shrugs. "I'd bet Howard Stark had a hand in this, but I'm kinda afraid you'll just be takin' more of my money."

Fury laughs. "As far as I know, you're not all wrong. SHIELD ought to get credit where it's due, though."

After that, Bucky hangs around, unsure of if he's even allowed to leave the vast room. He does end up retreating back up to the higher level away from the computers, though, feeling uncomfortable watching them over their shoulders. So, he stands there quietly until Coulson manages to peel away from his work and cross over to him. The man leans on the railing.

"So," Coulson says amicably, when Bucky doesn't supply any conversation beyond a polite nod, so fixed on working the prosthetic this way and that, fascinated by its movements. "Nice to be out on a mission?"

Bucky shrugs non-commitically, finally letting the arm lower to rest on the railing. "I guess it's something different." Suddenly conscious about how stingy he's being, he takes a breath, and painfully forces himself to work up something more. God, small talk hasn't been his strong suit since... that place. "You know, Agent Romanoff told me about your trading cards."

Coulson's eyes light up. "Yeah. Vintage. It took years to collect 'em all." The other man looks sidelong at Bucky, hopefully. "Would you, maybe… be willing to sign them for me sometime?"

Bucky forces a smile. "Yeah. Sure."

"We got a match!" A voice announces, coming from the man sitting at the computer closest to them. Coulson springs to attention, and Fury approaches, glancing at the computer screen briefly before turning to Bucky.

"Well, Sergeant. Looks like it's time to suit up."

Thank you for reading! Side note, this fanfic was a request sent to me by my sister, Tirana from CourtesyTrefflin. Next chapter will most likely be up next Sunday. Happy New Year's!