Chapter 1
July 4th was naturally Steve's favorite holiday, and it showed. Aside from Veteran's Day and Memorial Day, which were close seconds. Sharon noted that he'd begun decorating his apartment earlier this year; a flag proudly hung from outside his door. It wasn't authentic from his past, he'd told her, there was nothing left of his from that time. Except Bucky.
The Winter Soldier adjusted just about as well as one could given his circumstances. He rarely left Steve's apartment alone, preferring instead to take in the 21st century slowly, much more slowly than Steve had. Though he operated and was very much active throughout the years, the whole fist of HYDRA thing made it rather hard to keep up with the changing times. Just the other day, Sam noticed how the man had practically jumped in fright at the sound of an automatic hand dryer in the bathroom. He cursed in Russian, wringing his hands out on his pants to dry them.
Sam didn't tell Steve about this, for fear the man would quite literally punch a hole through the dryer.
Steve never lost his patience with Bucky, even when it seemed like he was going to. After being woken again by the other man's screams at night, he put on a film and laid on the couch with him, stroking his hair until Bucky's breathing steadied and his heart didn't pound right out of his chest. "It's alright Buck. Remember him? We'd swore he'd never make it in Hollywood when his first picture came out. Well look at him now. I guess things really do change."
Sometimes though, things were worse. Bucky couldn't remember anything at all, and he'd trash the apartment, trying to find a sense of what was going on. He'd only speak Russian then, in a rough, clipped tongue. Steve couldn't understand much, and he was grateful whenever Nat was near enough to help. Bucky would often have Steve by his throat before stopping and realizing what he was doing. After that, it'd be days before Steve could coax him out of the corner of his darkened guest room.
He knocked on the door. "Come on, Buck, it's the 4th of July. This is one of the few holidays that were practically made for us. It's just gonna be some of SHIELD up on the roof, I promise it won't get bad."
It was silent, so Steve thought Bucky might've been sleepy, when the door opened, and a pair of beautiful eyes peered cautiously out at him. They were like an animal's careful eyes surveying their situation.
"Okay," he said gravelly. "But let's just assume everyone up there does not like me."