The Art of Falling

All these Bucky/Steve stories, and not a one has been slashy. They're just so cute as brothers. Well. I wanted to try my hand at slashy. Keep in mind: I don't do smut. XD And this might just be funny. But. We'll see. So yeah. Enjoy!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The first time Steve and Bucky kissed, it wasn't exactly planned. Not remotely.

Bucky was fifteen, Steve was fourteen, and that particular night Bucky was really, exceptionally, completely three sheets to the wind. Which was an olden-days sea-faring term used to describe someone being really, exceptionally, drunk.

"Shoulda stayed a lil'longer, Rogers." Bucky slurred, as they finally reached Steve's apartment and Steve led the other to his bed. It had been a hassle-and-a-half for Steve to try and support the stumbling Bucky's weight, but they'd managed to get there somehow. Steve's mother was asleep and they'd [or rather, Steve] had chosen his apartment since Bucky showing up drunk wouldn't exactly go over well with his mother. Wouldn't go over with Steve's either, but she was sleeping, so no harm done.

"Any longer and you would'na been able to walk, Buck." Steve chuckled and sighed at the same time. "No offense, but I could'na carried ya." They had been at a party, [Steve had only been invited by virtue of Bucky attending and refusing to go without him], and Bucky-usually well able to hold his liquor-had had far too much.

Bucky laughed all of the sudden, like Steve had said something hilarious, and Steve clamped a hand over his mouth. "Shh. My mom's asleep, stupid. If she wakes up and tells your mom, you're a dead man." Steve reminded him.

Bucky giggled, actually giggled through Steve's hand and pushed it away drunkenly as he grinned and then pouted. "No...you're stupid." he retorted, and then he snorted and laughed again.

Steve groaned. There was no dealing with him when he was like this. But he'd do it, and keep quiet about it, because Bucky was his best friend and he'd done far more for Steve than he could ever repay. He glanced at Bucky and noticed that the other was staring rather fixedly at him. "What's up, Buck?"

Bucky tilted his head a little, and then gave him a crooked grin. "You're a real pal, Rogers. Y'know that?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fantastic. How about you go to sleep, pal?" Steve adopted an exasperated tone, but smiled fondly anyway as he patted Bucky's stomach.

Bucky sniffed as though Steve had suggested something irksome, but then his face scrunched in hard-won thought as he looked around as though just seeing the place and then back at Steve. "Then where're you gonna sleep?"

"I'll take some pillows from the couch. Sleep on a fort like we used to." Steve chuckled.

Bucky blinked and then shook his head. "Too cold." he shifted his body a bit and patted the space next to him. "C'mon. Lay down."

Steve blinked right back and then smiled as he shook his head. "Nah, I'll be fine with the pillows, don't worry-" he yelped a little as he found himself grabbed suddenly, and Bucky hoisted him almost onto his lap before he shoved him into a partially laying position beside him.

"There. S'better." Bucky drawled as he yawned and draped his left arm across Steve's stomach. "Needed a good arm rest." he did that giggling thing again, and Steve rolled his eyes.

"Nice to know I'm good for something." Steve quipped, and Bucky tilted his head suddenly to look up at Steve. Bucky was actually lying down, but Steve was partially sitting up, which put him in the rare position of looking down at Bucky.

"Yer good fer'lotta things." Bucky's speech slurred again, and Steve realized he was getting tired in addition to his remaining buzz.

"Oh, really?" Steve laughed, amused. He might as well have a little fun with his friend. "Like what?"

"Drawing. Good at that." Bucky answered almost immediately, and Steve was surprised. Bucky complimented his drawings whenever he caught Steve making them, but it wasn't what he thought would come to mind right then.

"That's something I'm good at, but what am I good for?" Steve corrected playfully.

Bucky's expression scrunched like he'd been asked a difficult question, and Steve smirked. But then Bucky gave him such a thoughtful look, he was forced to regard the other a little more seriously. "Buck?"

"Need you." Bucky finally said, decidedly. "I need you." he murmured, and Steve wasn't quite sure what he meant or how to take that.

So Steve laughed a little. "You...need me? Since when? I think you'd get on fine without me." He couldn't say the same of himself though. Steve wasn't sure how he'd ever lived before Bucky, he couldn't imagine life without him now.

Bucky snapped up suddenly, and he was looming over Steve again as he leaned in closer to glare at Steve, who leaned away a little in surprise. Bucky swayed unsteadily, but kept upright as he gripped a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Wouldn'." he replied firmly. "Everythin'd be...wouldn' be right." he muttered as his gaze lowered, and he seemed to struggle with something a moment.

Steve was a little concerned, and more than a little confused, and he lifted a hand to Bucky's head as he ruffled his hair lightly. "I think you should lie down, pal. It's been a long night." he said gently.

Bucky's gaze lifted back up to him, and his lips twisted in a rueful smile. "See? Yer'th'only one." he muttered, before he promptly leaned forward and kissed Steve.

It was probably only seconds, although it felt like much longer that Bucky's lips, warm, slick, and smelling of alcohol were pressed firmly against his. And then Steve jerked away and found himself falling to the floor.

"Ow!" Steve winced, before reality caught up with him and his gaze jerked back upwards to the bed. He expected a concerned if drunk Bucky to be looking down at him, but when he pulled himself up, Bucky was snoring on his bed. He had no idea what the Hell had just happened. Bucky had spun his world a little out of whack and then fallen asleep.

The next morning, Steve had been apprehensive, but it seemed he hadn't needed to be. Bucky left in a bit of a hurry, but he gave no indication of remembering what had happened the night prior and Steve hadn't pressed him to. Not about the kiss, or about his strange words. Steve, who knew too well what a ladies man Bucky was, had chalked it up to his being drunk. Because Bucky wasn't a fairy, and neither was Steve, and they'd been best friends since forever so he wouldn't let a little thing like that come between them.

It was his first kiss, incidentally.

...

Bucky was seventeen-going-on-eighteen, Steve was sixteen-going-on-seventeen the next time they kissed.

Bucky had been accepted, Bucky was going to be a Sergeant; Steve had been declined, Steve was going to be alone.

His orders would come any time, they both knew it although neither spoke of it. Steve kept trying to enlist, but it was a failure each time and each time was just a stark reminder of what was coming. Bucky would go off to war and Steve would be left behind, it was too unbearable to consider. The irony was that Bucky hadn't even really wanted to enlist. There wasn't really a choice, but he might have prolonged the inevitable if not for Steve's insistence that it was their duty and such.

Steve had been so caught up in thinking that he'd get to go along, he hadn't realized what it would mean if he couldn't. Bucky would leave, and Steve would be alone.

The pair of them sat with their legs hanging off of the ledge of a water tower. It wasn't legal, wasn't all that safe, but there were guard rails and it wasn't like the area ever got patrolled. They'd been on a double date earlier, which was more like being the fourth wheel, and usually ended in Bucky going off with the girls alone. But one of the girls had really pitched a fit about Steve, and Bucky had ended up defending Steve, and then both girls had left. Which was how they ended up alone on the water tower that night.

They hadn't spoken much since they'd parted from the girls, and Steve assumed that Bucky was angry. Actually, he could tell that he was, and wondered how much was due to their treatment of him, and from the fact that his 'date night' had been ruined. But Bucky, jaw tense and gaze faraway, didn't seem like he was going to mention it.

"Sorry I messed up your date." Steve finally said. And he wasn't, really, but it would gauge Bucky's mood and it was something to say, and he did appreciate the other defending him again.

Bucky's head snapped towards him, eyes narrowed and lips set in a tight frown. "You didn't do anythin' wrong. Those tramps were..." he trailed off, jaw clenched. "There's nothin' wrong with you." he said firmly.

The girl who was supposed to be his date had been content to give him the cold shoulder and an occasional dirty look. But when he'd tried to pass her a drink and she'd turned, she'd accused him of trying to grope her. She'd called him a 'pervert' and a 'freak' and got her friend in on it too. Bucky had been furious and made that clear, and the girls ended up storming off.

Steve wasn't inclined to believe the things they said. He knew that on the inside, he was a good person, but it still stung that he was so weak on the outside. That he would forever be judged for being...not enough. Bucky was the only one that was different, the only one that saw him. But even so, he still didn't believe in Steve, which was just as bad in a way.

"Yeah, well, they seemed to think so." Steve said, because what else could he say? 'Thanks for not thinking I'm a freak'?

"They thought wrong." Bucky growled, and Steve wasn't sure where Bucky's remaining stress and fury came from. Steve wasn't that upset about it, and he was the one who'd been called out.

"Relax, Buck." he said as he brought a hand up to Bucky's shoulder. It seemed impossibly large now, just like Bucky. Gone were the days when they'd been at least close to the same size. Bucky just plain dwarfed him, but he found he couldn't mind too much, other than that he couldn't do for Bucky what Bucky could for him. He couldn't support the other properly. "It's not a big deal."

"It is to me. They shouldn'a...treated you like that...and I went and made you go..." Bucky gritted his teeth.

Was that why he was upset? Did he blame himself for dragging Steve along? "It's really fine, Buck. Really. You know I've had worse." he tried to make it a joke, but it just sounded pathetic to his own ears and Bucky turned a sharp gaze on him.

At once, his anger seemed to fled and he slumped slightly. "You deserve better, y'know...you just...there's nothin' wrong with you. It's the damn opposite. Don't get why I'm the only one who sees that."

Steve was surprised by the response, and not all that sure how to take it or respond. But he did appreciate it, and he smiled as he squeezed Bucky's shoulder. "Thanks, Buck." He let his hand fall and leaned back a moment before he added to lighten the mood. "Maybe that's the problem. I just need'ta find a dame who's blind." he shot Bucky a grin, startled when he found the fury had returned to Bucky's face. "Uh, Bucky-"

"-You don't need someone blind, damnit! There's nothing wrong with you!" Bucky snarled.

Steve held up his hands in surrender, wide-eyed and unsure where this was coming from. "Okay! Fine! Jeez, Buck, what's got into you-"

Bucky's hand slid around Steve's neck, and next thing he knew, Bucky's lips were crushed against his.

Steve's mind shattered into a million pieces for a moment as his thoughts became fragmented and a litany of holy-s***-Buck-is-kissing-me ran through his mind. They were older than they'd been the first time. Bucky wasn't drunk. Bucky had been acting strange. And he was very, very intentionally kissing him, there was no two ways about it. The kiss tasted different this time, almost like cinnamon, and Steve felt oddly warmed by it. He assumed that was just a product of kissing in general, or maybe embarrassment, as he suddenly shoved Bucky away. His eyes were wide and although Bucky at first looked irked to be pushed away, he suddenly seemed mortified.

"I-uh...that..." Bucky stammered.

"You...kissed me." Steve didn't mean the words to sound like an accusation, he was just stunned. His lips still tingled, and he felt the urge to try to wipe it away but he didn't move.

Bucky licked his lips, and he looked a little desperate as he said weakly. "Just...wanted to lighten the mood..." he offered, but they both knew Steve wouldn't buy that.

"Bucky...I-"

"-Don't say anything!" Bucky cut in desperately. "Just forget it! It was a joke! Just forget it, Rogers!"

Steve wanted to, he wanted to be able to dismiss it as easily as he had done the first time, but he couldn't. He didn't hate Bucky, he wasn't disgusted or anything like that. Bucky was still his best friend, they'd been through too much and Steve was hardly the judgmental type anyway, but still...it needed saying. "Buck...I'm not...I'm not...like that."

Bucky's eyes were like saucers, his voice uncharacteristically panicked as he replied. "Me neither! I'm not! It's just you-I mean-I just...I only did it to...you were so...you were upset so I..." he trailed off, having almost admitted a truth he couldn't bring himself to admit, and knowing that he was only making things worse. His expression was too miserable for Steve to bear, and after a moment's hesitation, he set a hand lightly on Bucky's shoulder as a gesture of trust and comfort.

"Look, Buck..." Steve started gently. "I don't...I'm not judging you, or anythin'...we're still best friends. That'd never change, you know that. You're my best pal for life. But I...uh...I'm not like that...so..."

Bucky looked strangled, and he held up his hands as if in defense. "I'm not either! Really, I'm not! Best pals, that's for sure. That's it. That's all. You know I like dames. It was just a joke, really."

Steve wasn't convinced. And he suddenly questioned every time that Bucky had had a date, or said something about this girl or that. But then again, could he have really been pretending all that time? Steve was sure the kiss just then hadn't been a joke, and in fact, perhaps those couple of years ago hadn't been either...but still, Bucky did really seem to like women. And he'd nearly said 'it's just you'...maybe Steve was...special for some reason? And he'd heard vaguely about people who...just liked both genders. Maybe it was like that? Either way, he did the only thing he could think of to salvage their friendship. He laughed.

"Man, Buck, you really had me going there." Steve grinned, and punched Bucky's shoulder. "But don't ever do that again. Because I think I'm scarred for life." he mock-gagged and wiped his mouth playfully, although he'd really been wanting to.

Bucky didn't quite look as if he believed Steve, but he was more than willing to play along as he grinned weakly in reply. "You're scarred? I'm gonna have nightmares, pal."

"Well, jeez, I'm not that bad." Steve grumbled, and although it was a little anxious, Bucky's laugh was genuine, as was his laugh in return.

This was okay. They'd put it behind them and continue like nothing had ever happened.

Best pals for life and all that.

...

Bucky Barnes was dead, Philips had signed it himself. The words had come as a blow more crushing than anything Steve had ever experienced. It was like the wind had been knocked out of him and he'd been struggling to breathe ever since. That was a little ironic, since it had always been Bucky who'd helped him to breathe whenever he'd had one of his asthma attacks.

Bucky grinned as he led Steve to the infamous Cyclone ride. Bucky's expression was excited as he ushered Steve into the now decked-out living room the first Christmas after his mother had died. "Merry Christmas, Stevie!" Bucky smiling warmly as he and Steve sat side-by-side while Steve drew something in the distance and they talked about their dreams of the future. Bucky's smirk as he trounced another set of bullies, and offered Steve a hand up. Bucky, hair slicked back, as he set a hand on his shoulder after Steve had tried to be strong by himself. "Yeah, but this is, you don't have to...I'm with you till the end of the line, pal."

A black-haired boy grinned as he trounced the bullies who had been picking on Steve, and he offered the other a hand. "Hey! Name's James, but everyone calls me 'Bucky'...what's your name?"

Steve, unused to friendly interest in him and having never been defended before, accepted the hand and shook it shyly. "It's...Steven...Steven Rogers."

"Well, Steve," the boy grinned, "It's nice to meetcha."

There weren't many good memories in his life that didn't have Bucky in them. Not many moments that he'd needed help that Bucky hadn't been there for him. And Steve, when he'd gotten the serum, had had enough presence of mind to be excited about the prospect of returning the favor. Now Bucky could lean on him. And boy, was he gonna be surprised, because Steve was sure he was bigger than Bucky now and he was going to enjoy teasing his best friend about it.

Except that he couldn't, because he was dead. And the weight of the loss crushed him more than anything had in his whole life. He thought in that moment that the sum of every miserable experience he'd had, he'd experience a hundred, thousand times over if it meant he could have Bucky back.

But there were others in the 107th, others he could save, people he could keep from feeling as miserable as he did. If he couldn't save Bucky, he could at least save them, he could do something.

...

Steve raced through the halls of the Hydra base, and stopped when he'd seen a man run off and heard a faint voice. He was startled to find a familiar face, to realize the voice was familiar, and as he ran over and saw a rather jumbled Bucky, he could suddenly breathe again and the air filled his lungs in a heady whoosh. Steve looked down at him with a small smile, but he could tell Bucky didn't recognize him. He had no idea what they'd been doing to him, but he broke the straps that held him down as he helped him up.

"Bucky...it's me, it's Steve."

Bucky stared at him with obvious confusion, but the name seemed to bring a little clarity to his face. "Steve...Steve..." The raw joy in his tone was almost physically painful, and Steve's heart ached as he faced Bucky and saw how thin and pale he looked. Where was the impossibly strong man who'd saluted him and left for victory?

"I thought you were dead." Steve said, and he managed to keep his emotions at bay.

"I thought you were smaller." Bucky mumbled, and he fought the urge to laugh [or maybe to cry], it was hard to say.

...

Bucky and Steve faced each other from across an expanse of flames, and Bucky looked around with a frown. "Maybe there's a rope or something-"

"-Just go!" Steve would find another way, but he couldn't let Bucky stay-

"-No!" Bucky screamed. "Not without you!"

Steve was a little taken aback by the vehemence, by the maddened look in Bucky's face. There was something different, something had happened here in this base, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. He knew the stubborn jerk wouldn't leave without him, he was as good as his word, so Steve grimaced, gauged, and jumped a river of flames to reach Bucky.

...

The march back had been a fairly quiet one. The men were all exhausted and worn out, running on fumes of survival instinct and joy at freedom. Bucky hadn't said a word since he'd shouted at Steve. When Steve had jumped the flames, Bucky had stared at him like he was a puzzle that he couldn't figure out. Then the flames had erupted and Steve had shoved him towards the door. "Gotta move, Buck!"

At one point, Steve glanced towards him with a smile that Bucky didn't return, but he clapped a hand on the other's back anyway. Bucky's lips curved just slightly.

When they reached the camp, Steve received a hero's welcome, and it was then that Bucky finally spoke, his voice gruff and tired. "Let's hear it for Captain America!"

Steve wondered where he'd heard the name, if he'd heard from before his time at Hydra and had put two and two together, or if another of the men had mentioned it during the walk back when Steve hadn't been in earshot. Although his primary concern was truly Bucky, he'd still had a mission and still been invested in the welfare of the other men.

Steve looked to Bucky, who shrugged and smiled at him, and he missed the way the smile slipped and his expression twisted when Steve had looked away.

...

A couple of days later, Bucky had tried to sneak out of the medical tent and Steve had forcibly tucked the exhausted soldier back into bed.

"Try that again, and I'll have one of the nurses sedate you." Steve warned.

Bucky shot him a defiant look and started to rise again. "The Hell you will."

"Nurse!" Steve called out, and one quickly appeared in the doorway. "Sergeant Barnes-"

"Okay." Bucky hissed. "You win!" he settled down in the bed and shot Steve a familiar glare, although it was weighted down with shadows Steve couldn't begin to fathom. He knew Philips wanted to talk to Bucky about what had happened in Hydra, but he wasn't ready yet. He hadn't even been cleared medically for the physical aspect, let alone the psychological.

"False alarm, thank you." Steve said to the nurse, a matronly woman who lifted a brow but left without comment.

"You're a punk, you know that?" Bucky grumbled.

Steve smiled warmly, because it was too good to hear that again, especially when he'd thought he would never hear it again. He ignored Bucky's sullen mood and set a hand on his too-thin shoudler to give it a squeeze. "I'm glad you're alright. When they said you were..." he drew in a sharp breath before he finished with. "You almost killed me, jerk."

Bucky's gaze softened, and he sighed heavily before his hand slid up to cover Steve's. He didn't miss the way Bucky's hand trembled slightly, and Steve's stomach twisted as he thought again about what might have happened to Bucky in that place. "Thought I was gonna die there. Or be a lab rat for the rest of my life. You saved me, Stevie."

Steve's smile was soft as his tone as he replied. "You always save me."

...

Bucky was released a few days later, [although the army psychaitrist seemed reluctant to allow it], and Bucky was called in to have a conversation with Philips. Steve had wanted to be present, but both Philips and Bucky had declined him.

When Bucky left the tent, his expression tight and eyes haunted in a way that made Steve sick to his stomach, he'd tried to talk to the other.

But Bucky had given him a tight smile that didn't nearly reach his eyes, and said he needed a little more rest after all.

...

It was another three days of anxiety before Bucky found Steve in the dimming light of sunset. Steve had just left a debriefing where he'd been told he was to be captain of his own team, a group of men he would get to assemble.

"Well don't you look like Mr. Sunshine." Bucky drawled as he clapped a hand on Steve's shoulder. He moved it away quickly though, as though burned by the contact.

Steve didn't miss the reaction, but he let it go as he surveyed Bucky. He'd gotten cleaned up, fresh clothes and all, but they hung off of him just slightly. Bucky was still too small in a way that had nothing to do with Steve's sudden growth spurt. He was dying to ask what had happened, eager to help Bucky work through whatever had hurt him so much, but he kept silent. Because he knew Bucky, and he knew that if it was that painful, prying would only make things worse. Even so, seeing him like that...Steve had the urge to pull the other man close and just...hold on to him. Make sure nothing ever hurt him again.

"Mr. Sunshine? Are you referring to my sunny smile or my dashing good looks?" Steve joked in reply, and Bucky, to his relief, snorted.

He eyed Steve a moment before he met Steve's gaze, and he frowned just slightly. He suspected it was because he had realized he was going to be looking up at Steve from now on, if only slightly. Steve didn't have the heart to tease him about it just yet, it was all too new, too fragile. It changed the dynamic of their relationship in and of itself, to say nothing of the other ways in which they'd both changed since they last met.

"So this is the new you, huh...how's it feel?"

Steve considered his answer, and then shrugged with a light smile. "It's...it's amazing, Buck. No more asthma, for starters...I never knew how great it was to just...run. And I can do things now, I can help people...no one's looking down on me anymore. It's really great."

Bucky's jaw clenched just slightly, and he gave another of those smiles that seemed forced and didn't quite reach his eyes. "That's great, pal. I'm happy for ya."

Steve wasn't sure about the other's mood, and he added. "I'm still me inside though, Buck...and...you're still my best pal...right?"

Bucky blinked, and seemed slightly surprised. Whether to be still considered his 'best pal', or because Steve had mentioned the matter, he wasn't sure. But then Bucky smiled again, and it seemed more genuine. "Damn straight, Rogers. Someone has to keep your punk a** in line."

Steve smiled warmly in reply before he mock-sniffed indignantly. "You know, I do out rank you now. Show a little respect."

Bucky snorted, and ruffled Steve's hair. "You're adorable, y'know that? Your little flag-shield and everythin'. Just a doll." he drawled teasingly, and he laughed when Steve scowled and pinched his side.

"Heard about your Iittle dance routine, by the way. How's it go? Lemme see." Bucky crooned, and this time, Steve snaked an arm around Bucky's neck and head-locked him much the way the other had always done to him. He'd expected Bucky to laugh, what he did not expect was Bucky to jerk suddenly and shoved his arm aside.

Bucky's expression was tensed, his breathing suddenly heavy, before he rubbed at his face and muttered. "Sorry. Just...tired. Hit me all the sudden...I'll catch up to ya later."

Bucky headed off, and Steve wondered, not for the first time, how broken Bucky really was.

...

It was two more nights before Steve finally got answers. And it came when Bucky had started to scream.

Steve had gotten permission for Bucky to share his captain's tent, given what he'd been through. Bucky had had fitful sleeps every night he'd been there, not sleeping much at all when he did. But that night, Bucky had let out a blood-curdling scream and Steve was up in an instant as he shook Bucky awake.

"Buck! ...Hey, Buck...Bucky!"

Bucky jerked awake and flung a wild fist towards Steve's face, which he caught by the wrist and held gently. "Hey...hey...calm down...you're alright..."

"Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes-" Bucky began repeating his military i.d. and infantry over and over, like he'd done when Steve had first found him.

"Bucky!"

Bucky's eyes shot to him then, and recognition replaced the glazed look as he muttered. "Steve...?" He seemed to realize where he was and with a sharp inhale, he pulled away and sat up a little. "Talking in my sleep, huh? Sorry. Go back to bed, Captain. Big day for you tomorrow."

"You were screaming, Buck." Steve couldn't be gentle about it anymore, he needed answers. Something was eating at Bucky, and he wanted to know what, he wanted to fix it.

Bucky's jaw clenched as his gaze lowered. "It was a red-head and a brunette...of course I'd be screaming." he tried to drawl casually, and pass it off as a smutty dream, but Steve wasn't going to buy that.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, and their thighs touched as he invaded Bucky's personal space to regard him seriously. "I want the truth, Buck...please."

There went that clenched jaw again. "Don't remember." he muttered.

"That's a lie. Tell me." Steve insisted, and Bucky's gaze slid to the floor.

"I...can't." Bucky's voice was a whisper then, reluctant and heavy with burdens Steve couldn't begin to fathom.

"You can try. I want to help you."

"You can't." Bucky's voice was quiet.

Steve grabbed Bucky's chin lightly then, and forced the other to meet his gaze. "Give me a chance?"

So Bucky did. Steve was sure Bucky hadn't told him everything, which was worse in a way, because what Bucky had told him was enough to make him want to beat every member of Hydra to death while simaltaneously throwing up. Experiments, torture of the physical and psychological kind, using Steve against him by getting him drugged up and taunting him about Steve and his mother, and anything else they could find to use against him.

Steve had apologized in a choked voice, blamed himself for not being there to protect Bucky.

Bucky had whacked him on the head and told him to 'shut the Hell up' because it wasn't his fault, and there was nothing to feel guilty for.

That night, for the first time in their lives, it was Steve who'd brushed a few of his best friend's tears away and cradled Bucky close to his chest and held him till he fell asleep.

Bucky had no more nightmares that night.

...

"What did I tell you? They're all idiots." Bucky announced just a couple of days later as he took a seat next to Steve at the bar.

Steve smiled and then looked down at his glass as he asked the question that had been weighing on him. The one with the answer he was afraid to hear. "And what about you? Are you ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of doom?"

Bucky snorted. "Hell, no." And Steve felt his heart sink until Bucky continued. "The little guy from Brooklyn who was...too dumb to run from a fight...I'm followin' him."

Steve just gave a little smile and looked at his glass, afraid that if he spoke, his emotions would spill out all over the bar.

"You're keeping the suit though, right?" Bucky had asked playfully, and a bit conspiratorially.

Steve chuckled and glanced at a picture on the wall. "Y'know, it's kind of growing on me."

When Carter entered in that red dress, his mouth went a little dry, and he didn't miss Bucky's attempts to court an uninterested Peggy. A couple of memories flashed briefly in his mind, of a drunken Bucky in his bed, and a stammering Bucky on the water tower. But those days and those boys were long passed. And although he didn't miss the attempts, he was more than interested in Peggy himself. And pleased that she wasn't paying attention to Bucky's advances.

What struck him as odd though, was realizing that his pleasure was less because Peggy wasn't giving in, and more because it meant that Bucky wasn't going to be taken.

...

Bucky was flirting up some young nurse at the bar, and Bucky's words rang in his mind as he watched the other. Everything he had been through, and he was still going. And he was sure somehow that if Captain America had been any one other than Steven Rogers, Bucky would not be 'following' him anywhere. He'd said as much himself. He was following the 'kid from Brooklyn'...he was following Steve.

It meant more than he could say.

...

About a month into their campaign as a team known as the 'Howling Commandos', Bucky ended up shot in the shoulder.

Steve had, perhaps been a little cocky and, or over-zealous in barging into the base to rescue the hostages as per their mission. A fight had ensued, and someone had taken aim at Steve. Farnsworth was reloading his bullets, and Bucky had just run out. The others were engaged elsewhere. But Bucky was sharp as ever and he didnt miss the gun pointed at Steve. He'd shoved the other way without hesitating, and ended up with a bullet in the shoulder.

"Bucky!" he'd tried to grab the other, but Bucky, with as much dignity as a wincing, bleeding man could muster, had shot him a scowl.

"Keep your hands to yourself, Rogers. Or at least buy me a real damned dinner first." he drawled, and then he reloaded his gun and got back into the fray. The now fully-reloaded Farnsworth had taken care of the sharp-shooter in the interim.

They successfully completed the mission and headed back to camp, where Bucky submitted himself for medical treatment.

Despite his attempts to suggest otherwise, it had taken it's toll. Bucky's face was sweaty and pale, there were faint bags under his eyes, and labored breathing accompanied his constant facial grimace. The bullet extraction wasn't going to be pretty, and Steve was ready to settle in and stay by Bucky's side, but Bucky had other plans.

"Get out, Steve." he'd said simply, and Steve blinked in surprise.

"Bucky-"

"-I mean it. Get out." When Steve hesitated, Bucky shot him a narrow-eyed glare that meant business. "Out, Rogers."

If the medical officer was taken aback by the Sergeant ordering around his Captain, he gave no indication, he just seemed a bit impatient to begin.

"...Fine. But I'll be outside." Steve complied, not sure what the big deal was. As he was walking out, he heard the medic order Bucky to take off his shirt and suggested he bite down on his belt. He caught Bucky's reply as he hit the door.

"I don't need it."

True to his word, and despite how painful it was, Steve never once heard him make a sound. When it was over, the medic walked out while wiping blood on a hand towel. Bucky's blood. "He says you can go in now."

Steve found Bucky with his eyes clothed, bandaged and clothed again. "I've heard a lot of men scream from somethin' like that." Steve started, and Bucky's eyes slid open. "What'd you do? Keep a hand over your mouth?" he teased.

Bucky's words were light. "Unlike some people, I can handle pain." But the dark look in his eyes and the grim twist to his mouth made Steve's stomach turn as he realized the truth that lay beneath those words.

"I heal faster than regular people, Buck. You know that. I appreciate the effort, but don't play human shield next time, alright? You almost gave me a heart attack, pal."

"Even Captain America can't survive a kill shot." Bucky said simply. He didn't bother to point out something that he'd noticed ever since he'd been rescued from Hydra. Bucky healed faster than regular people too, although not so well as the captain.

"Neither can Bucky Barnes."

"Maybe not. But you're worth the risk." Bucky's lips twisted into a wry grin.

Steve should have been irritated, but mostly he was relieved that Bucky was alright, and he found that his heart did a funny flip-flop at the sight of that grin. "Nothing's worth losing you, Buck." he said softly.

And when Bucky's grin became a warm, grateful smile, his heart freaking melted.

...

About two and a half months into their time as Howling Commandos, an expected long-wait for a contact to arrive became a chance for the soldiers to take a mini-break. It was hotter than Hell outside, and there was an all-too pleasant looking river not far from their contact point. The men had [in-of course- a very manly way] pleaded for permission to take a dip and Steve had relented. One by one, the men stripped down as they felt appropriate to make use of the cooling waters, all except for Steve-who felt at least one of them needed to stay battle and contact ready-and Bucky.

Steve had watched Bucky, and he could tell that the other wanted to get into that water, he could see the sweat beading on Bucky's head, but still the other kept out. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a little water, Sergeant Barnes." he teased.

Bucky's gaze slid to Steve as he gave a rueful smile. "Just don't feel like getting wet."

Steve snorted. "You're already wet. You're gonna sweat up your own pool at this rate."

"Now wouldn't that be somethin'?" he drawled, before he stretched his arms above his head and headed for the trees. "Gonna scout ahead."

"Bucky-"

But the other was already gone, disappeared into the trees and leaving Steve wondering what had just happened.

...

It was almost another month before Steve understood the reason Bucky hadn't wanted him around when the bullet was extracted, and why he didn't get into the water.

The discovery came about by accident, when there was an unexpected explosion and a bit of shrapnel found it's way into Bucky's back. Steve had pulled it out on the spot, but it had struck some kind of nerve and Bucky was unconscious before long. When they eventually reached the medic, Bucky was unconscious so there was no protest to Steve's presence as the medic stripped Bucky's shirt and started in on stitching up the wound.

And then it made sense.

Bucky's body was littered with scars. Burns, cuts, some punctures, some scars that he could recognize but most of them he knew Bucky hadn't gotten with him. This was something else, this was torture, this was Hydra. And suddenly it was painfully clear why Bucky hadn't wanted to be around Steve with his shirt off. He hadn't wanted Steve to see, he had protected him from the truth all this time, when all this time, Steve had thought he was protecting Bucky.

Bucky awoke some time later, after several rambling, muttered phrases that Steve couldn't understand, and then his gaze found Steve. He seemed confused a moment, and as he moved he winced and seemed to recall his injury. Bucky grimaced. "You carried me, didn'tcha?"

"Yeah. I did." Steve's voice was quiet, and Bucky frowned as he eyed his best friend.

"Just a scratch, Stevie. Don't look so glum. Takes more than a little shrapnel to keep me down." The grin was back, but he found Steve still staring silently at him, so he shifted uncomfortably and his blanket fell from his chest. Realization struck as he looked down at his shirtless torso, and with a muttered curse, said lowly. "So...you saw."

"Yeah. I did." Steve said again, and he waited for Bucky to say more or meet his gaze, and when he didn't, Steve asked softly. "Why'd you hide it from me?"

Bucky swallowed hard and after a long sigh, his gaze slid over to Steve. "'Cause I didn't want you lookin' like that."

"I don't look like anything, Buck."

"Yeah, you do, you look...guilty...like you think it's your damned fault or somethin'...it's not, Steve. It's all me. I signed up."

"'Cause I badgered you to."

"Woulda happened sooner or later." Bucky said dismissively. "I already told ya, it had nothin' to do with you. If it wasn't for you, I'd still be on that operating table. You saved me. You got nothin' to feel bad about."

"If I'd been there sooner-"

"-If? We're soldiers, stupid, we don't do if. We're in a war, things happen, we move on and keep fighting. We don't sit around and cry about stupid s*** we can't change."

Steve seemed angry then. "It's not...stupidto me!"

"It doesn't matter-"

"-Yes it does. Because you matter. I should have been there! What's the point of being like this if I can't...can't..." Steve trailed off as he realized what he was saying, and Bucky eyed him with a frown.

"Can't what?"

"...Can't protect the only family I've got."

Bucky seemed to consider that a moment, before he reached a hand out towards Steve. He blinked, not certain what Bucky wanted, but when he made a gimme gesture, Steve slid his hand into Bucky's and gripped it lightly. Bucky gripped his tightly in turn. "Feel that? I'm here, pal. I'm not going anywhere. I said I'd follow you and that's what I'm gonna do. If I had my way, you'd still be in Brooklyn, away from all this. Safe. But you're here, and I'm gonna do whatever I can to protect you. Super-soldier or not, you're still that little guy from Brooklyn on the inside. You're my family too. So we're even. Neither of us is getting what we wanted, but we got each other. That's gotta count for somethin'."

Bucky's ineloquent eloquence never ceased to amaze him, and he smiled slightly as he gripped Bucky's hand. "It counts for everything." he said softly.

Bucky grinned then. "So quit moping like a damn girl and how about you get Monty to slip me a little somethin'."

Steve rolled his eyes. "I'm not getting you alcohol, Bucky. You're on bed rest. I expect you to stay in bed."

Bucky groaned. "You're such a tyrant."

Steve smirked as he used his free-hand to pat Bucky's arm. "And you're the dummy who decided to follow me anywhere."

Bucky hmphed, but both men were smiling.

...

Just a few weeks later, a mission went slightly awry and Steve found himself holed up in a cave with Bucky while he waited for a blizzard to pass. He might have weathered the storm alone, but they'd barely slept in two days time and had had little enough to eat. Steve wasn't going to risk it, they'd just have to hope the Howling Commandos had gotten a little niche of their own.

They couldn't risk a fire going, since they weren't sure if any of the enemy were still around. So they sat in the dark little cave eating their meager remaining rations and sharing a canteen of water between them. The wind howled outside, and a fierce chill hung in the air.

Bucky and Steve were seated side-by-side, and after a long bout of silence, he finally muttered. "Just like old times, huh? Making forts. And we got stuck in that cave once."

"For your birthday. I remember." Steve smiled a little at the thought. A nature-excursion for Bucky's birthday gone horribly awry, but Bucky had always claimed it was among his favorite birthdays.

"Wasn't as cold as this but no big deal."

It was only then that Steve noted that Bucky was shivering slightly, and he slipped an arm around Bucky as he pulled the other close and slid his other arm around the smaller male.

Bucky stiffened and tried to tug away a bit. "Settle down there, Captain Cuddles. I'm not that cold."

"Captain Cuddles?" Steve snorted. "You're shaking like a leaf, Buck. Anyway, I'm cold too." he wasn't all that cold really, but he knew it'd get Bucky on board faster than anything to think that Steve needed his help. "So shut up and hold still."

"Always such a bossy little punk." Bucky griped affectionately, and Steve grinned.

"Always such a stubborn jerk...and who are you calling 'little'?"

Bucky groaned. "C'mon...I'm older than you! Leave me a little dignity, why don'tcha?"

"Older...and smaller." Steve teased, and Bucky yanked on a few of his arm hairs. "Ow! Jeez." he rubbed his arm a bit although he kept Bucky in his grasp.

Bucky chuckled, and for a moment, the pair sat in silence again with Bucky's back up against Steve's chest and shoulder, and one of his arms wrapped over the top of Steve's arms.

"You're like a damned furnace now." Bucky muttered suddenly. "You used to be so cold all the time."

Steve thought of the old days then, when neither of their families had had money for heat, and they'd end up at one or the other's house all curled up under the same blanket. They'd huddled for warmth without a second thought, although back then, it had been Steve in Bucky's arms. And the size difference had been greater, although Bucky was smaller now, it wasn't by that much. Back then, Bucky had practically smothered him. "I had a good heater. Name of Bucky, I think."

"Oh, really?" Bucky snorted. "About yea big, devilishly handsome, and too cool for school?"

"Well. He was about yea big, anyway." Steve teased and Bucky flipped him off with a smile.

"Think the guys'll get on alright?" Bucky asked suddenly.

Steve considered their ragtag team and nodded, knowing Bucky would feel the movement if not see it. "They're tough. I don't think we need to be worried."

"Yeah...guess not." Bucky mumbled, and Steve realized he was falling asleep. Come to think of it, if Steve the super-soldier was feeling tired, Bucky had to be exhausted. He'd put up a good front as usual, he had to 'be strong' for Steve.

"Hey, Bucky?"

"Mmm?"

"Thanks."

Bucky said nothing a moment, and then he tilted lidded eyes up towards Steve as he squinted at him in the very dim light. "For what?"

"Just for being you, I guess."

Bucky made a noise between a scoff and a snort. "Such a weirdo sometimes, Rogers." he muttered, not unkindly as he squirmed a bit to get a comfortable position against Steve.

Steve was aware of a warmth in his chest. Well, he'd always been aware of it, in a way...but it seemed different somehow. He found that he was more...possessive of Bucky as well, and he'd chalked it up to feeling like he needed to protect the other more now that he had the upper hand between them but...that didn't seem to be just it. Steve heard Bucky mutter something he didn't quite catch. "Huh?"

But Bucky was already asleep and as he strained his memory, he thought maybe Bucky had said, 'my weirdo though, so it's okay'.

Steve hesitated, and then brought a hand up to run his fingers through Bucky's hair. It had gotten a little longer, no doubt he'd cut it soon, and Steve would miss it just a bit. There was something raw about Bucky with longer hair. 'Devilishly handsome' as he'd put it...

What the Hell did I just think? Steve's eyes widened at the unbidden thought. Bucky wasn't handsome, he was Bucky...well, no, handsome was a good word for him but...it wasn't one Steve should have been using!

And he thought of a time long ago, a memory laced with the taste of cinnamon, and he swallowed hard as he tried to push it out of his mind. Steve was a little stir-crazy, maybe. Once they were out of the cave and had had some rest, he'd be right as rain.

He hoped.

...

Their next mission was just a week later, it had been a tricky one tactically. Dugan had had his opinion, Bucky had had his, and Steve had another. Captain won out and they split into three teams plus Captain America on his own to infiltrate a base that was suspected to have hostages as well as hazardous materials. Dugan had wanted to smoke them out, Bucky had been for having just two men sneak in through a side entrance-bypassing all other questionable entries, and Steve had decided they'd hit from all sides in team units. They couldn't risk waiting for the hostages, or having only two men take such a large, unknown building.

That proved to be a bad idea.

Gabe and Morita were a team, Farnsworth and Dugan, and Bucky and Dernier.

There was an underground entrance, Farnsworth and Dugan had that, Gabe and Morita took a side, front entrance, while Bucky and Dernier took the rooftop entry. Captain America had taken the front entrance, shield held high, to serve as both a distraction and a starting point for the mission entry.

But no sooner had Farnsworth and Dugan gotten through the makeshift manhole that an explosion rang out and trapped the men in the underground passage. That alerted the occupants of the building to the raid, and gunfire rang out shortly after. That meant that Gabe and Morita had quite the fire fight to walk into. Bucky and Dernier couldn't just waltz in through the roof while the fire fight was going on, so Bucky had made himself useful as a sniper.

Things were rapidly escalating out of control, and Captain America cursed as he felt a bullet actually pierce his arm. It was far from enough to slow him down, but it was a harsh reminder of their situation.

He found the hostages and freed them though, it was then just a matter of getting them out. But there was another issue at hand, a key player in Hydra was roaming the building, from the information they'd gotten. If they could catch him alive and make him talk, all the better, but dead would be fine as well.

Gabe and Morita gave him cover as he ran the hostages out, and Bucky was still acting as sniper from above, he suspected. But in the end, it was Dernier who exited the rooftop to join him.

"Dugan and Farnsworth are gonna be awhile taking the long way out of the tunnels. Gabe and Morita are finishing inside. I need you and Bucky to stay with the hostages while I-" he caught Dernier's expression. "Where's Barnes?"

A sudden explosion rocked the building, one that shot flames sky-high and resulted in a clattering rumble of debris. Steve raised his shield and huddled the hostages and Dernier together, and only a few pieces actually reached them, all of which he deflected. The building hadn't collapsed, somehow, but it was far from in one-piece and seemed ready to totter at any moment. Where were Gabe and Morita, and Bucky? "Was he still on the roof?" he demanded of Dernier, terrified suddenly to hear the answer. Panic gripped his heart. He couldn't do this, not again.

"He ordered me to get Gabe and Morita to clear a path, and then help out Dugan and Monty. From there, I was to find you and tell you to get everyone to stand clear of the building." Dernier recited.

Steve's eyes widened and then narrowed, every inch Captain America as he snarled. "You don't take your orders from Sergeant Barnes, I'm your captain."

"I don't disagree with you. But he does out rank me...and in this case, with all due respect...I think it would have been wiser to follow his plan."

He was going to throttle Bucky, he really was. And then he was going to have a long talk with his men about changing plans on him. Granted, plans had changed when things had gone haywire but re-directing the men of his own accord wasn't the way to handle that.

"Captain! We got 'em!" Gabe called out as he helped an apparently injured Morita along, Dugan looked a little worse for wear but walked on his own beside Farnsworth.

Bucky wasn't with them.

Son of a- "Where's Barnes?" he demanded again of the incoming men, just as another explosion rocked the building and the shaky structure collapsed in a shower of dust, debris, and fire.

I sed his shield to cover them. When it was finished and a smoldering building remained, Gabe spoke urgently.

"I saw him inside, he was going after a Hydra officer. Think it was the one we were lookin' for. Offered to go with him but-"

Bucky! "Stay here, I'll find him."

Dugan exchanged a grim glance with Dernier, because if Bucky had been inside that building...

Steve reached the ruins of the building and called out loudly. "Barnes! Bucky! James Barnes!"

"Don't gotta shout, Captain, I'm right here. Y'know I hate that name." Bucky drawled.

Steve whirled around to find Bucky behind him with an unconscious Hydra officer at his feet. Blood dripped from a gash along the side of his head, his hand was red with blood from a minor stab wound in his side, and a limp suggested that one of his legs was injured.

"Damnit, Bucky!" he raced to the other. "What the Hell were you-" Bucky pitched forward suddenly, and Steve caught him before he hit the ground.

...

A day later, Bucky hadn't woken up. Apparently whatever he'd gotten stabbed with had had a lethal poison. The stab hadn't been as deep as he'd thought, apparently the full dose of the poison hadn't been administered...but it was still a critical situation. Bucky's system had gone into a kind of shock, and they suspected he might be in a coma. His skin was a pale, green-ish color, he was sweating profusely, and although occasionally he'd toss and turn, and mumble incoherent nonsense, he wouldn't open his eyes. The doctor said he wasn't sure Bucky would make it, that it was a miracle he'd survived and that he must have one Hell of a will to live.

Steve wasn't sure he'd ever been so scared in his life.

Agent Carter managed to pry him from Bucky's side long enough to speak with Philips, who had gotten intel from the Hydra officer. He also clarified more of what had gone on in the building between the officer and the men. Apparently Bucky had seen the officer from his sniper's roost, he'd nearly taken him down when he noticed a couple of men lined up to fire at Captain America-who was busy dealing with hostages. He couldn't shoot them at his vantage and that was when he'd given orders to Farnsworth. Bucky had done a rather unsafe rope entry and taken out the two men, getting stabbed with the poison dart intended for Captain America. He'd then pursued the officer, and met up with Morita and Gabe on the way before continuing on himself. The officer had forced an explosion to deter him, but Bucky cornered him. He'd gotten the officer but found his lab, one filled with experiments not unlike those performed on Bucky. The final explosion, apparently, had been Bucky's doing, and he'd fled with the Hydra officer. The head gash and leg wound were products of his fights in the interim, and his ensuing escape.

Bucky was in bed three days when he got the news, and he felt like he'd been holding his breath for three days and the air rushed back at him all at once.

Steve, who'd slept and ate little, and kept vigil at his bedside as much as possible, raced back to the medical tent where Bucky-although still rather ill in appearance-had woken up. "Bucky?" his voice choked a little as he made his way to Bucky's bedside, and he didn't spare a moment as he slid his hand into Bucky's and gripped it tightly. He wanted to hug the other [wanted to punch him too, incidentally] but he knew Bucky was still weak.

"Hey, Stevie." Bucky wheezed a little, apparently the poison had attacked his lungs, and he'd be a little shaky while he healed. "Look like you're about...to cry...you big baby." His speech was a little halting, his voice raspy, but a chorus of angels couldn't have sounded better to Steve.

"You stupid son of a b****." Steve said in a hitched voice, and Bucky lifted a slight brow at the uncharacteristic use of 'foul language' from the other. But when he saw Steve's distress, his expression became pained as he gripped Steve's hand back with trembling fingers. "You almost died! What were you thinking?"

"Had a mission." Bucky muttered, and he seemed worn out, like it was taking all of his effort just to keep his eyes open.

"That's not worth your life!"

"Heard the doc talking. Said even a super-soldier...wouldn'a probably lasted...if you got hit with...the poison full dose."

"That doesn't mean you take it for me!"

"That bit...wasn't exactly...part of the plan...just worked out that way..." Bucky coughed, and Steve's expression softened. What a role reversal this was. In the old days, it had been the asthmatic and sickly Steve lying in the bed looking far too small and too weak. Had Bucky felt this way then? Like his heart was being crushed, like he was useless because his best friend was suffering and he couldn't do a damn thing about it?

"Every one get out okay?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah...even got the Hydra officer. Thanks to you."

Bucky gave a thin, wry grin. "Did somethin' right then." he swallowed hard as his eyes fluttered, and he muttered. "S'hard to stay awake...sorry, Cap...think I'm..."

"Just rest, you're fine. The Commandos are on a temporary break while a certain pain-in-the-a** soldier recovers."

Bucky grinned a little. "Y'know you love me, Rogers." he drawled, and it trailed off in a yawn as his eyes closed. "Just...a little shut-eye, then..." And then he was out like a light, but his breathing was regular and his face had regained a more natural pallour.

Bucky's drawl had been a joke, he knew that, but the words seemed to hit him like a ton of bricks. Of course he loved Bucky, they were family. They were brothers. And yet, when Bucky said that, it made him think of a pair of stolen kisses, of Bucky's body huddled up against his own, of countless nights spent in Bucky's warm, strong arms, of his cheeky grin as he emerged from a ruined building, of the way his chest tightened when he saw Bucky flirting with...someone else. And why would that matter, unless he wanted...unless he wanted it to be him. And he thought of Agent Carter, of Peggy, and how beautiful she'd looked in that dress and how his mouth had run dry. He couldn't deny he was attracted to her, that she was his dream woman...

But the one he ended up dreaming of, although he'd never thought of it that way, hadn't it always been Bucky?

Steve thought of the way the air seemed to leave him when Bucky was in danger, the way it gripped his heart and made him panic, thought of the way he'd been angry enough to kill when he'd seen what Hydra had done to him, thought of the way he'd wanted to pull Bucky close and hold him for the rest of his days-to protect him.

And he realized it then, he realized what it meant.

Steven Rogers was in love with James Barnes.

...

It was a whole two weeks in the medical tent before Bucky was cleared for release, and the last week had been an exercise a test of everyone's patience as a stir-crazy Bucky huffed and puffed his way through recovery. He'd never liked hospitals, he was bored out of his mind, and he kept insisting he was fit for duty.

When they finally released him, there were bags under his eyes, he still seemed a little shaky, but all in all-his color had returned and the weight he'd gained after imprisonment with Hydra still remained. He looked a little banged up, essentially, but healthy and fit otherwise. It was a sight for sore eyes.

Steve had been waiting outside of the medical tent, and he didn't waste time as he embraced Bucky tightly when he stepped out. Bucky stiffened in surprise, and then embraced him back with a short laugh.

"Well, talk about a warm welcome. Do I get that song and dance yet, Cap?" Bucky teased.

Steve's grip on Bucky tightened a moment, too relieved to feel a warm, living body in his grasp, and then he pulled away with a stern expression. "Come with me." His voice brooked no argument, and a puzzled Bucky followed him to the edge of camp where they'd be able to talk in private.

When they reached the intended spot, Steve thought about how to phrase what he'd wanted to say [as if he hadn't gone over it a million times in his head up until that point].

"Uh...somethin' up, pal?" Bucky started, surprised when Steve whirled around with a glare.

"You could have died, Bucky! Do you know how close you were?" In his head, he had been much more official about the whole matter. But when push came to shove, he found himself snapping because it was a sore subject for him. Bucky was the one thing, the one person, he just couldn't lose.

Bucky blinked and then his eyes narrowed. "Really, Rogers? Been out the med-wing for five freaking minutes and you pulled me out here for a lecture?"

"It's not a joke!" Steve snapped, and then he stepped toe-to-toe with Bucky to look down at him sternly. "And another thing...when I give you an order, I expect you to follow it. You don't make up your own game plan."

Bucky's jaw clenched, and Steve could read the anger and defiance clearly in his eyes as he straightened to try to match Steve's height. It was close, but it wasn't enough. "Don't give me crappy a** orders and then I won't." he snapped. He'd expected he'd have to explain himself eventually, but he'd expected Steve to be understanding about it, to realize that Bucky's tactical knowledge [which came with more experience than Steve had anyway] had been right. That in the circumstances, he had done right. And they'd gotten the officer, destroyed the lab, and saved the hostages. Bucky had lived. What did Steve have to be so pissed off about?

Steve shoved him suddenly, and Bucky found himself pinned with his back against a tree and Steve's arm firm on his chest. He tried to shove him away angrily, but Steve was the super-soldier, Steve was stronger now. "You said you'd follow me anywhere. Following your captain means obeying orders. I could write you up for insubordination."

Bucky's expression went slack in disbelief a moment before his anger returned full force and he sneered slightly. Bucky had never liked to be patronized, Steve suspected it was worse coming from him. "Well, then, do it, Cap. I'd like to see that."

"Don't think I won't." Steve warned, agitated as Bucky continued to push him. He just didn't get it, he didn't understand how worried Steve had been, how crazy it drove him that Bucky was so reckless.

"I dare ya." Bucky drawled, and he shot Steve a smug, challenging look that made him want to punch the bastard right then and there.

So how he found himself shoving his lips against Bucky's and kissing him firmly, he really wasn't sure.

The kiss wasn't the alcoholic one of the first time, it wasn't the cinnamon of the second. This one held hints of poorly-flavored medicinal cherry-syrup and something earthy. But it was no less heady than it had been before, more so, actually. Because Steve knew he wanted this. He wanted...no, he was in love with Bucky.

Bucky shoved him away suddenly, and that time it took as Steve allowed himself to take a few steps back and regard the wide-eyed Bucky. Finally he'd gotten the other man to shut up, it seemed, because Bucky just gaped at him for a moment.

Truth be told though, Steve was at a loss too, and the moment that passed was tense as they both waited for the other to react. Finally, Bucky spluttered.

"W-What the Hell was that?"

"I, uh...think it's called a 'kiss', Buck." Steve managed, and he took a page out of Bucky's book as far as using lame humor as a diversion tactic.

Bucky's incredulous stare made it clear he didn't find it funny. "Let me rephrase that. What the f***ing Hell was that?"

Steve swallowed hard. Was this how Bucky had felt back then? What had he just done? He'd just been so angry, and upset, and worried, and relieved, and he'd just been full of...well, his newfound but long standing love and it had just bubbled over. Suddenly kissing Bucky had become as necessary as breathing in that instant. He'd just done it. But the Bucky who'd kissed him was a playful, tough-talking boy from Brooklyn years ago, not the haunted, hardened man before him. "I just...I couldn't help it." he admitted.

That seemed to be the wrong answer, because Bucky's jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed and he repeated sarcastically. "You couldn't help it? What the Hell's that supposed to mean? You kiss every one you get pissed off at or something?"

"Of course not, Bucky!" Steve snapped irritably, the other's sarcasm wasn't helping. And it only made his own tension worse, because it was becoming clear that Bucky certainly did not seem to carry a torch for him anymore. If he ever had, Steve wasn't sure why Bucky had kissed him then. But whether for lust, pity, or love, he didn't seem too eager to do so now. "It's just...you."

Bucky stared, and then he let out a bitter laugh. "Man, you are somethin', Rogers. You are a real piece of work, y'know that?"

"Meaning-"

"-Meaning why? What do you want from me? You wanna punish me for insubordination? You're-what-worried about me? You're pitying me? You're a little curious and you need'ta get the rocks off so you freaking kiss me-"

"-That's enough." Steve snapped, but Bucky wasn't to be deterred.

"Or Hell, maybe this explains everything. The little tights, the silent eye-sex with ole Peggy that ya never follow through on. Just which team are you playing for these days, Captain?" Bucky drawled crudely, and he seemed about to say more when Steve's fist came up and met with his face.

Bucky stumbled sideways, caught off guard, and while Steve had pulled the punch-a pulled punch from a super-soldier was still a fierce punch. When Bucky lifted his head, he'd bitten his lip and a little trail of blood welled there.

"Bucky-" Steve felt anger vanish into guilt at once. "-I didn't mean to-"

Bucky's fist connected with a face, accompanied by a grunt on Bucky's part, before he found Bucky's arm around his neck as he attempted to head-lock him. For what purpose, he wasn't sure. But Steve reacted as he elbowed Bucky in the gut, and he heard the other exhale sharply before he threw a mean left hook to his face. None of these punches did much to hurt Steve, but if Bucky wanted a damn fight, he was going to get one. In the end, he shoved Bucky to the ground [although he partially carried the other down], and he straddled Bucky as he pinned the other's wrists above his head and frowned down at him. "Are you finished, Sergeant Barnes?"

Bucky squirmed and tried to pull his wrists free, his face reddened from effort, but he could see it was to no avail and with a grimace, the fight left him. He sagged a little and just glared up at Steve with a deep frown. "It's not f***ing fair, Rogers. You and that stupid serum."

"You weren't complaining when you were always the one winning." Steve pointed out, and he softened despite himself.

"I never made you bleed." Bucky retorted, almost sullenly, and Steve actually had to fight a smile.

"That's a lie."

Bucky opened his mouth to argue, but he'd clearly thought about it and realized that, oh, he had. "Those weren't on purpose." he bit out, but he seemed a little embarrassed about it.

"You looked so guilty afterwards. I had to comfort you." Yup, that was definitely embarrassment in Bucky's expression. And Steve wasn't concerned when a little voice in the back of his mind regarded noted that it was cute. Oh, man, Bucky was gonna kill him.

"Well, you acted like you were gonna cry or somethin'..." Bucky's gaze slid away, and Steve was certain there was a faint flush on Bucky's cheek. That was something that never happened. And he found that it made him want to kiss Bucky just as much as the anger had. He supposed that any time spent in Bucky's company was going to start doing that to him, which wasn't going to bode well given Bucky's reaciton... "Why did you kiss me, Steve?" Bucky's voice was quiet now, his gaze fixed right on Steve's as he asked the question simply, almost wearily.

Steve stared into those eyes. Those familiar eyes that he'd seen in every imaginable light. He could draw every milimeter of that face in perfect detail. Steve knew every scar, every tone of voice, all of this moods and inflections, his likes and dislikes, what made him laugh, what his different laughs meant, what he looked like when he was feeling sappy, or when he was faking a smile, and he knew sides of Bucky that no one else ever saw. It was the same for him to Bucky, he knew that. They knew each other, they were in sync, and it was more than growing up and spending most of their time together...they just clicked. And he couldn't believe it had taken him so long to understand the subtle difference. Actually, he could. But making Bucky understand might be the problem. So he went for blunt honesty, because he was never one much for guile.

Steve sighed as he released Bucky's wrists and sat up, and he waited until Bucky had set up as well and met his gaze to admit it.

"Because...I'm in love with you, Bucky. I love you." he clarified.

Steve wasn't sure, despite having just confirmed that he'd seen every imaginable side of Bucky, that he had ever seen that expression before. Bucky's eyes were like saucers, his jaw had dropped, his posture was frozen mid-movement, and he looked mildly alarmed, like he'd just heard an exploosion. And then all at once, he seemed to come to as exclaimed.

"What?"

Steve winced. "I'm sorry!" he blurted out. "This is...f***," he let his language slide again, "This is really bad timing even in general but...I...aww, jeez, Buck. I'm no good with this kinda thing anyway." he buried his face in his hands, and he suddenly realized this was likely exactly how Bucky had felt those years ago.

What did he expect would happen? Really?

Fingers clamped around Steve's wrist, and he found another hand grip his face to force him to look at Bucky, and he wasn't trembling at all. The fingers felt impossibly strong, the way they'd used to feel when Steve had been the 'little guy'. "That's not funny, Steve." Bucky said lowly, and there was an intensity to his gaze that made warmth and anxiety pool up in Steve's stomach all at once.

"I wasn't joking." The words came out like a whisper, as his throat had suddenly gone dry.

Bucky started at him long and hard a moment before he released him, and gave a bitter, harsh laugh. "Then you're some kinda crazy, pal. You don't love me, Rogers. I don't know what got into your head, but it ain't that."

Steve was a little irked by that. "I don't think you get to tell me what my feelings are, pal." he retorted.

Bucky's gaze was cold as he regarded Steve. "Yeah, I think I do. Because I know you better than anyone, Hell, I know you better than you do. I don't know where this is coming from all the sudden, but it's not real, whatever it is. Whatever you think it is: you're wrong."

"Oh, really?" And Steve was pissed then. "And how do you figure that?"

"Because I just know." Bucky replied tersely.

Steve shook his head. "That's not good enough. You think you know me so well? Then tell me why. Let's hear why it is that it's not possible that I'm love with the most important person in my life. Enlighten me." Having admitted it, and being in this situation, made it much easier to say aloud casually the second time around.

Bucky jerked a little like he'd been punched, and he grimaced as he shook his head. "You don't love me, Steve. Come on. It's you...and me...it's us. You're like my kid brother."

"Then why did you kiss me?" Steve retorted, and Bucky recoiled. "Twice. You don't remember the first time, because you were drunk, but-"

"-I remember." Bucky said gruffly, like the answer was dragged out of him.

Steve blinked in surprise. "But you...you never said..."

"Said what? Oh, by the way, remember when I took your first kiss last night when I was wasted? Hey, whad'ya think of that, pal?" Bucky said mockingly, although it was turned towards himself. And then he sighed. "And then I went and did it again. And you remember what you told me? 'Cause I do. And it was the damned truth. We're best friends, Steve. That's it. You don't swing that way, neither do I. This thing we got between us, it's just...it's uh...intense. But. I don't know, seems about right. We're all we've got. But that doesn't mean it's more than what it is. Whatever it is."

Steve stared at Bucky. "You realize that made...next to no sense, right?"

Bucky scowled. "Don't be a punk."

"Then stop being a jerk." Steve retorted, and then it was his turn to sigh. "I hurt you that day, huh, Buck." It wasn't really a question.

Bucky stiffened, and rolled his eyes. "Of course not, told ya I was joking." But Bucky gave everything away whether he knew it or not. Steve had hurt him.

"I wasn't like you, y'know? You'd had all kinds of girls, and friends, and...you had a comparison. But me? I just had you. And every one in the whole world telling me it's a man's duty to settle down with a nice girl and have a family and...that's what I wanted. It's all I knew. And I knew I loved you, but I thought it was just...cause we're family. I didn't have anything to compare it to."

"Exactly. We're family." Bucky said, and he looked uncomfortable. "So quit...quit makin' it complicated."

Steve held back his argument as he continued. "And then I met Peggy," he didn't miss the way Bucky's jaw clenched slightly, "She's...a Helluva woman. She means a lot to me, she really does. And in another life, I mean...who knows. I'm attracted to her, but...she's my comparison."

Bucky's brow furrowed. "Huh?"

"I mean...I like her, she's my dream woman. She's strong, and smart-mouthed, and opinionated, tough-as-nails...gorgeous...she's a soldier, definitely not your typical woman...and I realized something...all these traits she has, she's a lot like you."

Bucky opened his mouth, and then closed it as he seemed to need more time to process that. Finally he muttered. "What are you trying to say, Steve?"

"I like Peggy a lot, maybe I could have loved her. I dunno. But then again, everything I like about her are things that remind me of...you. She's my comparison, because she's everything I 'should' want...but the only one I want...is you, Buck."

Bucky made a strangled sort of noise, and then he groaned a little as he rubbed his face in his hands. "You don't...know what you're saying..."

"I really do, Buck. I've thought long and hard about it."

"You...you can't." Bucky hissed, but he seemed more miserable than angry.

Steve got the sense then that he was missing something. "And why's that?"

Bucky looked frustrated, and then it just poured out of him. "Even if you were like that...it's...I'm broken, damnit. I'm not the same. They took somethin' from me on that operating table and I never got it back. You're so damned...good...and I'm just...not. You deserve a life. With someone whole. Marry Peggy, have a family, have eight damned kids and name one of them James just to piss me off," he gave a laugh and it sounded more like a sob, "You can have all that. You should. I want you to. Quit talking about this crap that you love me. I'm not worth it, Rogers."

Steve didn't know what he was doing until he'd done it, but he got on his knees and grabbed one of Bucky's wrists in one hand, and cupped the back of his neck with his other hand as he held him in place firmly. Bucky's words cut him. That Bucky had been feeling like that this whole time and never said anything, that he thought there was anything wrong with him, that he could sit there and say he wasn't good enough for Steve-as if Steve would be anything without Bucky...it drove him crazy. And he felt he could empathize with Bucky, that day on the water tower. He could understand why it pissed Bucky off so much that someone would think that about him. Because Bucky loved him too, and it had hurt him that Steve had been hurt. That he couldn't protect him.

"The Hell you aren't." Steve snapped back firmly, taking another page from Bucky's book. "You are so worth it it's insane. You're not broken, there's nothing wrong with you. Maybe you did change, maybe you don't feel the same...that's fine. You're still Bucky. You've risked your life over and over, and not just for me. You're still fixing my mistakes...if you hadn't have taken charge of that last mission...I don't know how it would have turned out. All I could do was yell at you about it though because you scared the crap outta me...I thought I almost lost you, again...You are the one thing...the one person...I refuse to lose. Do you understand me? Maybe what we have is...different. But I'm okay with that. I love you, James Buchanan Barnes, and if you don't...feel the same, it's fine. But if you turn me down, it better be because you don't love me. Not because of this crap that you're not 'worthy'. You are the bravest, kindest, craziest, most 'devilishly handsome', most wonderful stupid jerk, I've ever met. You are too good to be true, if we're being honest...even when I had nothing, I had you. I'm not that special, Buck. You said so yourself, I'm 'the little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb to run from a fight'. I'm still your Steve, on the inside. And I-uh-" here Steve's firm voice broke off into something sheepish, as he flushed a bit and added in a mutter. "I...wouldn't mind being yours...on the outside too. So. That's it."

Bucky stared at him like he'd grown another head, and then he echoed. "'That's it'?"

"Well, wha'dya want? A parade-"

Bucky's lips were on his then, and one of Bucky's arms slid around his waist and gripped him tightly while the other cupped his neck. And for the first time, when they kissed, it was mutual. And it was freaking glorious. Steve wasn't sure where he began and Bucky ended at that point, it was like he'd poured twenty-some odd years of misunderstandings and emotions and their intense, quiet love into that single kiss and it seemed suddenly like they'd wasted so much time.

Bucky pulled back, for air maybe, but then he let his forehead rest on Steve's and they stayed like that a moment; heart's racing, breathing heavily, just looking at each other. And then Bucky said gruffly. "I don't...I'm not sure I'm everything you think I am but...if you mean what you said then...damnit, Steve...this is your last chance. You could have a life. A family. We can keep going like we always have, I won't mess with ya about this."

Steve smiled then, soft and fond as he brought a hand up to run his fingers through Bucky's hair. "I have a life and a family. With you. That's what I want."

Bucky inhaled sharply, like he'd been holding his breath, and then he let it out in a ragged huff before he shook his head. "I just can't win against you, Stevie." he brought their lips together again, and brought back that same heady feeling. This is what a kiss was supposed to be, or better than, Steve wasn't sure. He didn't need a comparison for this. Steve knew this feeling was a once-in-a-lifetime kinda thing, not to be cliche.

Bucky pulled back once more and his voice, although a little low and breathless, was soft. "I love you too, Steve. I always have. I never thought...I mean...are you sure?"

And for once, it was Steve's turn to reassure Bucky. And he didn't mind in the least.

Steve slid a hand to Bucky's chest and gripped a fistful of his shirt as he pulled Bucky back in for a rough kiss. He'd have to go about showing Bucky that he wasn't the choir-boy Bucky seemed to think he was. After a moment, he pulled back and smirked. "That answer your question, Sergeant Barnes?"

Bucky licked his lips, and Bucky's old, familiar sparkle seemed to return to his eyes. He hadn't seen that kind of life in them since...before Bucky had gone off to the war. Since before Hydra and that operating table. Bucky hadn't left anything behind, he'd just misplaced it was all, and Steve could remind him of that.

"You were saying something about me being devilishly handsome..." Bucky murmured.

"Maybe. But I don't feel much like talking right now." And so saying, Steve yanked Bucky against him and demonstrated what he rather felt like doing.

...

They couldn't publicize their relationship of course, although Bucky and Steve suspected that the Howling Commandos knew more than they let on. In fact, they got the sense the Howling Commandos had already thought something was going on. And if it disturbed their sensibilities [which was unlikely, given the rag-tag bunch], they gave no indication.

They showed it in little ways. There would be the mischievous glance Bucky would shoot Steve over the map table. Or the way Steve would casually back up against Bucky's chest while surveying a plan, and Bucky's hand would settle a little below the belt. Every now and then, Bucky would be a smart a** and bring him a flower or some such, or suggest he'd do his Captain America schpiel in a little star-spangled dress. Steve would return the kind gestures with affectionate reminders of their difference in height, or how great an arm rest Bucky made. A bit like Bucky had playfully done to him in the old days. When Christmas came around, Steve found mistletoe [how in the Hell Bucky had managed to get it, he had no idea], in his tent and a sapling spruced up with knick knacks from around the base to serve as a tree. Bucky had managed to acquire a candid photo of them together taken by some reporter, Bucky's arm around Steve's shoulder and Steve's around Bucky's waist as they laughed. He had it in a little make-shift metal frame that he knew Bucky, ever good with his hands, had crafted himself.

Bucky had always made sure he had a good Christmas. Just something else to love about him.

In turn, Steve had finally performed his Captain America schpiel for Bucky, who laughed and hooted and hollered in wicked delight-much to Steve's embarrassment because he knew Bucky would never let him live it down. And then he'd given Bucky a drawing he'd done from memory, of them sitting together on a water-tower, although in this one they were sitting against each other one-armedly hugging as they looked at the stars.

Bucky had stared at it so long, Steve thought he might be having an actual health problem, but in the end [was that a watery glimmer he saw in Bucky's eyes?] Bucky had thanked him gruffly, and kissed him, and proceeded to end their Christmas on a very physically grateful note.

That was another way they showed it, although it wasn't really in a little way. It wasn't easy, but they still found time to be alone.

And it was something else Steve needed no comparison for, because if it could possibly somehow be any better than it was, he'd probably keel over on the spot.

...

"Remember when I made you ride the Cyclone at Coney Island?" Bucky asked as he peered over the edge of a vast, wintry wasteland and the rickety zip-line they'd be using to make a risky landing on the top of a damned moving train.

Steve's expression was slightly puzzled as he replied. "Yeah..and I threw up?"

"This isn't payback, is it?" Bucky asked, and Steve felt a little wicked as he grinned and replied.

"Now why would I do that?"

They made their risky landing on the train and once they were in securely, Steve took the lead. But he heard a door close shut behind him, and his heart sunk a little when he realized Bucky and he were now separated and Bucky was stuck in a fire fight.

When he could eventually get back to him, Bucky had run out of bullets and was in a tight spot. He noted Bucky's expression, noted the fact that Bucky wasn't waiting for Steve to save him, he seemed grim and was already planning ahead. Probably for something reckless that he'd call 'daring'. That was Bucky. Stubborn jerk. He opened the door and motioned the gun towards him before he tossed it, and they used a bit of team work to finish the fight.

"I had 'em on the ropes." Bucky quoted Steve of long ago, and Steve fought a smile despite their situation.

"I know you did." Steve turned to see that he hadn't finished his fight as he'd thought. "Get down!" he shoved Bucky out of the way, and wound up slammed aside. He saw Bucky pick up his shield and maneuver with it-which was impressive because that thing wasn't lightweight-but his impressed moment quickly gave way to heart-stopping panic as Bucky flew out the train. "Bucky!"

He made short work of the robot and stepped outside. "Hold on!"

Bucky gripped the railing like a lifeline, it was his lifeline.

"Grab my hand!" Steve reached for him, and then he heard the sickening sound of metal being pulled apart and he watched as Bucky fell. "Bucky!"

Bucky's scream would haunt him for many years to come. As would the sight of his friend's face and body as he fell further and further away.

After everything, everything they'd been through and done, and everything Bucky had done for him, after everything he'd gone through, after becoming Captain America, he'd still failed to protect the most important thing in his life: his best friend, his family, his partner, the man he loved. He'd failed Bucky.

And there was nothing he regretted so much in his life as that.

...

Steve watched as the Winter Soldier, unmasked, slowly turned around to reveal a face that was all too familiar. He'd seen that face his whole life, and in the time he'd been awake, he'd seen it in memories, dreams, and nightmares. The hair was longer than Bucky would have let it get, but it was him. "Bucky?"

"Who the Hell is Bucky?"

And Steve felt his heart break all over again.

...

"You know me." Steve said, after he'd completed his mission and could focus on Bucky. He hadn't wanted to fight the other, and it made him sick to have had to choke him out and break his arm. The helicarrier wouldn't last much longer, but it didn't matter: the only thing that mattered now was Bucky. He'd go down with him if that was what it took.

"No, I don't!" Bucky sounded like a child trapped in a man's body, confused and frustrated, and denying desperately. He punched Steve, and Steve reflected not for the first time that Bucky had gotten much, much stronger.

"You've known me your whole life." Steve said softly, and a wealth of memories flashed through his mind.

Steve looked down as Bucky mentioned staying with him and building forts like they used to. "Thank you, Buck, but I can get by on my own."

Bucky's hand found Steve's shoulder and squeezed it tightly, and Steve met his gaze as Bucky gave him a little smile. "The thing is, you don't have to. I'm with you till the end of the line, pal."

Bucky made a choked noise and punch him again. He was reaching something in Bucky, but he wasn't sure what.

"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes." Steve continued, not to be deterred.

"Shut up!" Bucky roared.

"I'm not going to fight you..." Steve let his shield fall. One way or another, he didn't need it anymore now. "You're my friend." he said softly, and he let a lifetime's worth of love flow into that one sentence.

Bucky tackled him down, and began to punch him. "You're my mission!"

Steve, bloodied but determined, smiled slightly. "Then finish it...because I'm with you till the end of the line."

Bucky stopped mid-punch, and stared at him with such a lost expression. He was confused, and hurting, and Steve could see that. Even in this new face, this Winter Soldier's face, there was still Bucky in there, Bucky that he knew and could read.

And then he was falling, and he got another moment of empathy but he was sure it didn't come close to what Bucky had felt when he'd fallen that day. Steve wondered if he could have done anything different, changed things. But now...

He plunged into the water, and the last thing he saw was the glint of metal in the water and a shadowy form before everything went black.

...

The Winter Soldier hauled the target-Steven Rogers, Captain America, from the water and to the shore where he dropped him and paused a moment to regard him. Something about the sleeping face made his chest hurt. He didn't understand the sensation or the cause, he didn't understand why looking at that face made him want to forget everything else, made him want to stay there and tend to the other man. Made him want. And it wasn't supposed to be that way, a weapon shouldn't want.

But the other had mentioned being with him till the end of the line, and memories like a sidereel had spun through his head, clips of words and disjointed conversations, and his head ached and buzzed. He couldn't make sense of it, couldn't process them. All he knew was that the idea of killing Steven Rogers struck him as wrong and unacceptable more than the idea of failing a mission. It went against his very existence, but there it was.

In the end, despite the temptation to stay, he left-certain that the Captain would survive.

But he didn't return for deactivation.

Instead, he went to a museum where he found a stranger with his face. A heroic man [not that he was one much to judge], who had been Captain America's lifelong friend and ally. He seemed the opposite of the Winter Soldier. Someone brash and free-thinking, someone passionate, someone who could have friends, and loyalty, and lay down his life for another without being ordered to. Was this really the man Captain America believed him to be?

And as he considered the flashes of memories he had, the strange...feelings, he allowed himself to consider the possibility.

But if he was James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky, what then? Who was he? What could he do?

What did he...want to do?

...

Bucky found Steve two days before Steve had been about to leave to find him, around three weeks after Bucky had saved him after the fall from the helicarrier. Steve knew it had been Bucky, and it had given him hope. And for three weeks, his heart had been filled with aching, and emotions he hadn't let himself dwell on, and determination to bring his family home.

"Bucky." Steve breathed as he caught sight of the man outside of a coffee shop. Bucky had been waiting, and he said nothing as he stepped into Steve's path and allowed Steve to run into him before he'd realized who it was. Bucky's hair was still long, tucked back slightly by a hat, and he was wearing civilian clothing. Bucky said nothing, and Steve said lightly. "Do you...want to talk?"

Bucky gave a terse nod.

Steve moved cautiously, not wanting to make the other skittish or feel threatened. "Okay...um...there's a park across the street. Should be kinda private. Does that-"

"-Too open." Bucky interrupted gruffly.

"Then-"

"-Follow me." Bucky turned on his heels, and Steve hesitated. But if Bucky were going to try to kill him, or the 'Winter Soldier', rather, he wouldn't care if they were in the public eye or not. So he followed him to what ended up being an abandoned building. He didn't realize Bucky had been using it as a place to sleep until he caught sight of a change of clothes tucked in the corner, and a few stray water bottles.

In the end, Bucky turned abruptly and stared at him expectantly, and Steve blinked, not quite sure what the other wanted.

After a moment, Bucky said. "I...went to the museum."

Steve's heart flooded with relief. That was a good sign. "You saw your memorial?"

"I saw James Barnes' memorial." Bucky corrected, his lips set into a thin frown. "...It said he died."

Steve's gaze lowered as his hands clenched. "You...there was a mission. On a train. You fell out. I tried to grab you, but the railing broke and you fell. There was no way you could have survived, we thought, but...whatever Zola did to you-" he noted that Bucky stiffened at the name, and something like hatred flared up in his eyes. "You know that name?"

Bucky didn't seem to want to talk about it, so he pressed on. "I'm sorry." And Bucky seemed a bit confused by the words. "I couldn't protect you. I failed you, Buck. I'm sorry."

Bucky stared at him with nearly the same look he'd given him on the helicarrier, when Steve had said he was with him till the end of the line. And then Bucky said lowly. "I was-Bucky was-...a soldier. Casualities are expected in war."

Steve wasn't sure if it was the other's attempt at comfort, or he felt that was the appropriate literal response. "Not on my watch. Not you. You're the one person I couldn't lose."

Bucky stiffened, and exhaled slowly, and then said. "But you did."

"And now you're here." Steve said softly.

Bucky stared at him, and then ran a hand through his hair as he took his hat off, the most human gesture he'd yet seen on Bucky so far. "I don't...I don't remember. Everything is...vague. But when I look at you..." he trailed off, unable to find the words to describe it.

"Because we're family, Buck." Steve said softly. "It's like...coming home."

"I want a pool when we get back." Bucky said one day, suddenly, while Steve and Bucky hid in a rafter during the interim of a mission.

"Excuse me?" Steve had said, confused as the statement had come out of nowhere.

"When we get back. You and me get a place. I want a pool." Bucky said decidedly.

Steve blinked and then laughed. "Good luck with that."

"Thanks for the optimism, Stevie."

Steve laughed, and then he smiled. "I don't really care where we live...if it's with you, it'll be home." he shrugged.

Bucky had stared at him then. He did that sometimes, like maybe he couldn't believe his luck or thought Steve was pulling his leg. And then he reached forward to press a quick kiss to Steve's lip and mutter. "You always say that s*** at the worst times."

"And you always ruin the moment."

Bucky seemed indignant, and then after a moment, shrugged. "I want a pool. But I'd live in a cardboard box if I meant getting to be with you."

Steve blinked and then smiled. "I love you too, Buck."

Bucky huffed, never one for sappy moments [although he secretly loved them and Steve knew it]. "Yeah, yeah...get back to work, Captain."

"Whatever you say, Sergeant."

And they smiled at each other then, unaware of Dernier watching with binoculars from below and muttering in a string of French about the 'stupid lovebirds', much to the amusement of Dugan and Farnsworth.

What happened in the Howling Commandos, stayed in the Howling Commandos.

"I would have stayed in a card board box." Bucky echoed, and he seemed not to place much value on the words, it was more like he'd plucked them from his memories and recited them. But it made Steve's heart leap.

"Speaking of...what would you say to staying with me? It's better than camping out in here, right?"

Bucky stiffened and narrowed his eyes on Steve. "This is suitable."

"...You're living off of bottled water and sleeping on brick...it's not, pal." Bucky seemed offended somehow, like it was an insult to think he couldn't handle those conditions, and Steve finished with. "When's the last time you had anything to eat?"

Bucky's jaw clenched, and the gesture was painfully, wonderfully familiar. "...Two days ago." he said matter-of-factly.

Steve tried not to let his surprise and worry show. He didn't want to scare the other off. "You're not...things are different now, you have to take care of yourself or you'll...fall apart...I'd like to help you, if you'll let me."

Bucky eyed him a moment before he asked lowly. "Why?"

"...Because we're family, Buck." Steve said softly.

Bucky hadn't looked like he understood, he just got sort of a pinched look on his face, but whatever internal debate he had after that worked in Steve's favor because he said-

"I'll...come with you. For now."

Steve internally cheered.

...

'For now' became days, weeks, and then nearly a month. Bucky had established a routine of meal times, thanks to Steve, he had shaved although he refused to cut his hair [and had taken to tying it back with a hair-tye], he still slept in the corner because the bed was too 'soft' apparently [which made Steve's heart break], and Bucky still had nightmares. But he would speak in complete sentences, and vocalize his wants, he seemed to be understanding things like humor and sarcasm, and he had regained some of his memories. He acknowledged that he was 'Bucky', but he still claimed he was the Winter Soldier as well.

And one day, sitting at the kitchen table where Steve had just served him some eggs and toast, Bucky asked abruptly.

"Were we...homosexual?"

Steve spluttered on his orange juice, and Bucky eyed him in alarm as he choked, so he held up a hand to reassure the other. Bucky was weirdly [but endearingly] mother-hennish [more so than his previous usual] since they'd fallen into their routine. He seemed to think Steve was fragile, despite the fact that Steve had beaten him as the Winter Soldier on the helicarrier. "Why...are you asking that?"

Bucky frowned slightly as his gaze slid back to his plate and he drew on the memories. "I...remember...some things...we kissed. We talked about...our future." he said the words uncertainly, like he wasn't sure if it was the right phrasing. "We had sex." he added, as though talking about the weather.

Steve wouldn't be surprised if his face was flaming red. He really wouldn't. "We...that's..." he stammered helplessly. It wasn't that he hadn't wanted this, he wanted Bucky to remember what they were to each other, but he hadn't wanted to pressure him. He hadn't wanted to confuse the other, and he wasn't sure Bucky would even...want that when he recovered. Bucky continued to stare at him expectantly. "Well...no...and yes...I.."

"That answer doesn't make sense." Bucky pointed out.

Steve cursed internally and ran a hand over his hair before he decided to bite the bullet and go for it. "It wasn't like you and I were...interested in guys...it was just...us. You and me, we...had a...bond. We loved each other. A whole damned lot."

Bucky's expression didn't change even slightly, and he wondered if Bucky had even the vaguest notion of what 'love' was.

"Technically, we were homosexual, I guess. But, I dunno...you said it best. You said we were-"

"-Soulmates." Bucky said slowly, as if just remembering, and Steve's eyes widened as hope flared in his heart yet again. "Didn't matter if we were both guys or not...we were just meant to be together." And though it sounded like a recitation, like he'd plucked it from memory, there was something there. An emotion, a feeling in the memories.

"That's right." Steve said gently.

Bucky considered that and rose suddenly as he approached Steve, who was a little taken aback and perhaps slightly wary, but he didn't move as Bucky stared at him intently a moment. "...Do you still...love me?" he said the word like it was something fantastical, like asking if he thought fairies existed or something.

"Yes." Steve said softly, and it was a wonder he'd managed to speak. "With all my heart, Buck. Never stopped."

Bucky stared at him a moment more before he moved forward suddenly, and pressed his lips against Steve's. It was a little awkward at first, like a child attempting a first kiss but knowing nothing beyond that it involved pressing lips together. But then memory, muscle memory or real memory-who knows, kicked in and Bucky deepened the kiss. Steve, for his part, let Bucky do as he liked-not daring to stop him, or to move, or even to breathe for fear he'd cause Bucky to withdraw again.

This Bucky tasted of grape jelly, and something gritty, and Steve never wanted him more. Because Bucky was here and alive and remembering, and there was hope after so long. Fate was a weird, twisted thing. It had pulled them apart and brought them together time and again in impossible circumstances. They'd practically time-traveled together at this point, and they'd wound up here, back together. If they weren't soul-mates, then someone upstairs had a lot of explaining to do.

Bucky's hand slid up to Steve's neck, his metal hand, and at the contact he pulled back suddenly with wide eyes and something like self-reproach was in his gaze as he turned away slightly with a clenched fist. "I..."

"It's alright." Steve said instantly, as he brought a hand over Bucky's metal one gently. Bucky stiffened and started to pull away, but Steve took a chance and kept hold of it as he brought his other hand up to Bucky's cheek where he brushed his thumb against it gently. "You're not gonna hurt me, Buck. I trust you. And I do love you. All of you."

Bucky's expression seemed pained then. And while he hated to see the other in pain, he loved that there was an expression there at all. "I've done...terrible things, Steve..." he whispered. Bucky thus far referred to him as 'captain', but a few breakthrough moments he'd called him 'Steve'. "There's so much...blood on these hands..."

Steve inhaled slowly as he thought of a proper response, and in the end, he brought his hand down and ended up lacing the fingers of both of their hands together as he gripped them tightly. "The Winter Soldier did terrible things...that wasn't you. It was your body, but it wasn't you...and like you said, we're soulmates...that's what matters to me. You."

Bucky's grip had been lax at first, but slowly his fingers closed around Steve's. "I don't remember everything...I don't...know if I can be...who you want me to be." he said, and he seemed lost. "But...I...I want to be...I know that. When you leave, when I can't see you any more...it feels like I'm back in that tube. Like none of this is real...I think that happened sometimes. It was never real."

Steve's heart broke, not for the first time, since Bucky had returned. And suddenly Bucky's hovering made sense. "I'm not going anywhere, pal. And this is definitely real...you're never going back in that tube. Hydra, Shield, Hell, the Avengers...I don't care who it is...I'm not letting any one take you from me again. I'm with you till the end of the line."

Bucky opened his mouth and closed it, and Steve was reminded of the day he'd confessed his love, so many years ago. And back then, Bucky would have protested, and said he'd be the one protecting Steve, yada yada. This Bucky stared at him and then asked. "You...want me to stay?" And wasn't it just like that day then? When Bucky couldn't believe Steve would choose him, that he loved him.

"More than anything, Buck." Steve said softly.

Bucky's expression softened for the first time, and when he looked into his eyes, he saw a glimmer of his Bucky there. "...I...think..." he licked his lips and tried again. "I'm not sure, what I'm thinking...or remembering...sure as Hell can't figure out what I'm feeling but...I...think this..." he brought a pair of their hands up to his chest, above his heart. "My heart is...it's...hurting...and warm...and I think...I love you too, Steve." he looked to Steve as if for confirmation, and he seemed startled when he found Steve had a few tears rolling down his face. "I said something wrong, I hurt you-" he started anxiously as he moved to pull his hands away.

Steve allowed it, only so that he could throw his arms around Bucky and hug him tightly. "You said the right thing. Jeez, it was the right thing. You don't know how bad I've wanted to hear that...I've been missing you since the moment you fell. It was enough just to have you back, I would have been happy with that but...if you want this...if you want us..." Steve pulled away, realizing he might be pushing things a bit. "But there's no hurry. Whatever your comfortable with."

Bucky kissed him suddenly, not quite as artfully as the old Bucky would, but with much less hesitation than his first attempt post Winter Soldier. As he pulled away, he smiled a little, and there was a hint of that old, familiar sparkle in his eyes as he said softly. "Does that answer your question?" he quoted Steve from long ago.

Steve started crying again, damnit he couldn't help it, and Bucky looked so alarmed that he laughed. Which confused the other even more. So Steve just threw his arms around Bucky's neck, relieved when Bucky's arms slid possessively around his waist, but were gentle, still fearing hurting Steve. Just something else to love. Bucky was careful with him now, tender, even though he didn't realize it as such. "I just want you to be whoever you want to be, Buck. I love you, whoever you are. Whatever you are. I'd love you even if were...the Hulk."

Bucky seemed puzzled [adorably so, in Steve's opinion], as he took it literally. "Why would I ever be the Hulk?"

"I have no idea." Steve said with a laugh, and Bucky didn't seem to get it at all, but when Steve leaned forward to press their heads together, Bucky rewarded him with a soft smile.

"I love you, Bucky Barnes. Always have, always will." Steve said decidedly. And it wasn't a lie, he always had, he just hadn't known it for what it was.

Bucky let that sink in a moment before he replied softly. "I love you too, Steven Rogers," and Steve kept himself from laughing at the way he said Steve's full name dutifully, apparently thinking it was part of the mechanics of professing love since Steve had just sort of done it, "...For always...I remember that...you were...stubborn."

"Yeah, well...I learned from the best." Steve shot Bucky a cheeky grin, and then found himself in a tight embrace as Bucky rested his face in Steve's shoulder.

"You are the best." Bucky muttered.

Steve felt his heart warm as he tightened his grip. "If I am, it's just because I have you."

Bucky didn't reply verbally, but the way he tightened his grip and slid his arms a little further around Steve, like he wanted to meld them together and cement their forever, and the way his lips pressed lightly into Steve's shoulder spoke volumes.

He was Bucky. He was the Winter Soldier. He was Steve's soul mate. And Steve loved him with every fiber of his being. More so than it should even be possible to love.

And in the end, that was all that really mattered.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

I don't know what just happened. This was maybe going to be like two-thousand words, fluffy little bits of accidental kissing and leading to grown-up kissing...but I just think of them as brothers too much I guess, so they wouldn't get frisky until I sold them on it via going through their story and emotions and so on and so forth...and then Steve was like 'well, fix the Winter Soldier then!' and so there was that...agh, this took so long. But I like it a lot. And oh, the fluff and the feels and the recapping their story-line. Reviews are like verbal hugs. You don't understand how much I love them and how much they inspire me to write. And comfort my soul after all this angst. XD Enjoy!~Witchy~P.S. I just saw the word count on this. Holy Hell. What did I just do? o-o No wonder this took so long. Sweet mother of penguins. That's a first for me in a one-shot. XDDD Enjoy!~Witchy~