Leave the Past Behind

The first thing Bucky registered was warm blankets around him.

He didn’t know why that felt wrong to him, but it did. Some part of his brain was sure that it shouldn’t feel this warm, or comfortable right now… but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

There were murmurings of voices around him, but it sounded like they were coming at him through water – distorted, distant, and unintelligible. He couldn’t make out any of it, and his sleepy brain couldn’t focus on the voices.

Too tired to do anything about it, he allowed his fluttering eyelids to close and pull him back into sleep, where he didn’t have to worry about anything.

**

The next time, Bucky awoke with a start, taking a gasping breath as though something was wrong. He sat straight up – he’d been dreaming about Steve and him fighting – about Steve and him – Steve – nope, he couldn’t remember. Part of him was sure it was important, but the more he reached for the memories the more they slipped away like sand through his mental fingers.

Squinting around the room he was in, it didn’t take him long to realise that he didn’t recognise it.

It was sterile, a hospital room with white walls and a white floor. There were – there were machines? On the sides of the room, glinting silver in the light. The antiseptic, sharp tang of hospitals filled his nose, making it wrinkle. It was familiar to him, and yet unwelcome, reminding him too much of Steve’s own illnesses.

None of that answered the question of why he was here though. Unwrapping his arms from around himself – where he hadn’t even realised they were, protecting his chest from the chill of the room – he looked down, expecting to at least see bandages somewhere. When there was nothing to be seen, he searched a little harder, running his hands down his legs and his back and over his head, as though if he tried enough an injury would just appear.

But as he woke up a little more, reason returning to him, he realised that he wasn’t even in pain. That hadn’t been unusual since Azzano – not that he would admit it to the hospital, he didn’t want to be locked up – but if that was true, then why was he here? It was clear that he was a patient, he was in a thin gown of some kind and the room was private. (In the back of his mind he wondered who was going to pay for a private room like this – did they think he was made of money?)

Another part of him realised why it felt so strange here. He was in a hospital and Steve wasn’t weeping at his bedside.

Well, maybe that was a little dramatic, but surely if he’d been injured enough to wind up here, Steve would be around somewhere?

Wait – there would no doubt be some kind of waiting room on the other side of that door. Bucky eyed it up – on the one hand, he didn’t want to get into trouble… but on the other hand, since when had either he or Steve cared about whether they were getting into trouble? Steve was probably expecting him any minute now.

He went to get out of bed – and was tugged back by a line of fluid connected to his hand by a tube that he didn’t even notice until now. How had he managed to miss that?

Chuckling to himself at his own unobservantness (was that even a word?), he slowly pulled the needle out, grimacing at the unpleasant feeling it brought.

And now, freedom.

His legs were wobbly as he placed them on the floor, something which surprised him. If he wasn’t ill, why did he seem to have no strength?

Slowly pushing himself to his feet, he took stock of his body again. Even like this, he didn’t have any pains. Even his hand had begun to heal over already.

His walk over to the door was cautious, but it wasn’t like he was unaccustomed to walking around hungry. Sure, it made him feel a little lightheaded, but that was nothing new.

Pushing open the door, his ears were immediately assaulted with the sounds of a busy hospital. He grimaced – from inside his room he hadn’t been able to hear any of this. That was some pretty good soundproofing they had going on there.

For a moment, he had the time to take in the corridor and note that Steve wasn’t there. That was weird – he’d been so sure that his best friend would be waiting for him. He blinked at the empty row of grey chairs as though it would make him magically appear there.

Then there was a flurry of activity all around him, with nurses and –

Wait, were they nurses? These people looked like they were wearing brightly coloured pyjamas. Was he dreaming? The idea brought him some relief – it would explain so much if it was.

But then he was herded back into the room he’d just come from, and pushed back onto the bed while things were attached to him and yep this felt far too real to be a dream.

He was poked, and prodded – but he was asked no questions, nothing about how he felt. They seemed to be concerned about him, sure, but it felt strange to feel so invisible while the focus of the room.

“Do we need to restrain him, do you think, doctor?” One of them asked. Her pink pyjamas and kind face would have made Bucky like her, he thought – but as worried as her tone was, the words made him tense up.

“Restrain me? What do you..?” He tried to tug his arm out from where it was being held by another woman on his other side.

The woman the original question had been directed at pursed her lips from her position at the end of his bed. (Wait, did that mean she was a doctor? His mind floated away to ponder that question before it was brought back down by her answer.) “Yes.” Her curt nod made him gasp – or maybe it was the sudden tightening grip of the nurses on his arms.

“No, wait, I –“ Bucky tried to stop it from happening, but before he could do anything about it the doctor was walking out the door, and leather straps were being put around his wrists. He didn’t bother to fight against them – he just looked up with wide eyes at the nurses who were doing it to him. They barely looked at him – they were too focused on buckling the straps, and putting more things in his hands which led to – to bags of some kind of liquid. Wait, did that mean that stuff was going inside him? What kind of torture was this?

He watched in horror as the women gave him pitying smiles as they walked away. As he watched, his vision began to dim and narrow, and he realised that whatever they’d given him was making him sleepy.

Why would they – he gave one more attempt at freeing himself, but he didn’t have the strength in his arms to do anything more than hurt his wrists against the leather.

He had no choice but to succumb to the sleep.

**

It was undeniable that when he woke next, he felt stronger.

He didn’t know how he knew it, but he could tell without trying that he’d be able to walk more easily this time.

Still, waking up left him feeling groggy.

He quickly realised that there was someone in the room with him. Lifting up a hand, he – okay, well first he took a second to take in the fact that at some point while he was sleeping he’d been unstrapped. It made him feel slightly uncomfortable to know that someone had been in here and he hadn’t known about it.

But then he pushed a hand through his hair, which felt – weirdly clean? He didn’t think it had felt this clean since before the war – what had he done to deserve such treatment? Frowning at the back of the nurse, who was doing… something, fiddling with things on the other side of the room, he tried to sit up. There was nothing stopping him this time, the tubes were gone, and he had more strength in his upper body than he had the previous day.

Unfortunately, just because that was true didn’t mean he couldn’t slip. His hand moved out from under him, sending his head down to clonk on the bedrail.

The nurse span around, an alarmed look on her face. She rushed to help him – which did nothing but make him try to push her off.

Eventually Bucky realised that she was asking him whether he was alright – and much as he wanted to keep that feeling of his space being invaded, he found that he couldn’t.

Then she handed him a bundle of clothes. “Put these on,” she instructed him. He took them, confused. If they’d bothered to put him in a hospital gown before, why did he have to change now? Was he going to be leaving?

But he also didn’t want to get undressed in front of a lady (at least, not like this). He held onto the clothes, looking around awkwardly, hoping he wouldn’t have to vocalise his worries.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” she said firmly after a few minutes of straightening things out some more. “Stay put.”

Oh, thank god. Hurrying to get dressed before she came back, Bucky nearly tripped over the pants in his haste to pull them up. He barely took the time to look at what he was dressing himself in, so desperate was he to be in something that didn’t threaten to flash his ass with every step.

When he finally looked down at what he was wearing, rubbing the material between his finger and thumb. It was soft, and felt far too good to be just given out to him in a hospital. Seriously, what was going on here?

Leaning back against his pillows, he tried to relax. He still had no idea what was going on, or why he’d been brought here. It was becoming more and more difficult to get rid of the nagging suspicion that there was something going on here.

Sure, he’d seen a lot of weird tech in the past few years. But most of that had been weapon based – and if he was being honest, none of what was in this room looked like a weapon. Not that you could always tell, but there was usually something (like a part that looked like it would blast you) that gave it away.

He eyed up some of them as he waited to possibly find out what was going on. He would have thought that he’d be able to figure out what at least some of them did – but not when they seemed to be all screen. How was that even possible?

The fact that he then realised that he’d spent around ten minutes just thinking about that was what tipped him off that there might be some amount of drugs still in his system. Well… there wasn’t anything he could really do about that. He could only hope that these doctors would have underestimated how much to give him because of the serum and that it would wear off soon.

When the door swung open and the sound of voices swelled towards him, he looked up eagerly. Were they here to talk to him this time? He hoped so.

The first few in the door he recognised. They were the nurses from the day before, the same insincere smiles on their faces. It set him on edge from the start, especially as they came to flank him immediately.

The sight of the next person to enter made him feel conflicted. At first he assumed it would be another doctor here to explain things – but the more he took in this man’s attire, the less he thought that was true.

It wasn’t just the head to toe black leather. It wasn’t just the eyepatch. It wasn’t just the ‘I will fuck you up’ attitude.

It was the combination of all of them, to be honest.

Bucky was used to standing up to figures of authority – it came with the territory, when you were friends with Steve ‘fuck you all’ Rogers. But something gave him the impression that if he tried something with this man, he’d be back in the restraints before he could say ‘I didn’t mean it’. (That impression was probably given to him by the armed bodyguards he could see standing outside the door.)

“Hello, Sergeant Barnes.” Okay, so they knew who he was. That was… a good start.

He said nothing more – and Bucky realised he should greet him too. But what to say?

“Hey.” Well, that was something. But what was he meant to say in a situation like this?

The man’s face remained impassive. Clearly, this wasn’t the time to mess around at all. The nurses glanced nervously at both of them – there really was something going on that he didn’t know about.

“I’m director Fury.” That was a weird title. Was that an army thing? He couldn’t think. The man, Fury, didn’t seem to be acting like it was weird, but that didn’t mean anything.

And anyway, what was this man and not explaining absolutely nothing? What was he meant to make of it? “Uuh… nice to meet you?”

Fury nodded – and that seemed to be all the acknowledgement he was going to get. “You too.” Then he immediately moved on – he didn’t beat about the bush at all. “Sergeant… You’ve been asleep for a while.”

Bucky blinked. “That was what you wanted to tell me?” He burst out laughing. Why were they telling him something he’d already figured out like it was a big secret? It wasn’t like he thought it had been no time at all since he got here.

No one else was laughing. His own laughter trailed off into a cough, trying to disguise the fact that he thought they should probably be laughing with him. One of the nurses caught his eye. She was looking at him with – pity? Why pity?

Fury seemed to be waiting for him to refocus. Bucky was very familiar with the attitude – every single one of his teachers had employed it at some point or another. Well, maybe that was fair in this situation.

“Yeah, okay, I got it, I’ve been sleeping.” He grumbled, picking at the blanket on the bed.

Fury nodded. “I apologise for needing to disturb you so. There were some…medical complications while you woke up.”

The nurses began to give each other that weird look again. What was going on here? “Really?” Bucky narrowed his eyes. He didn’t really buy that – how could he have had medical complications when he didn’t feel unwell at all?

Sighing, Fury said, “yes. You were asleep for almost 70 years.”

Bucky’s brain stopped.

Were his ears deceiving him? He must have meant seven years. Or seven days. It just wasn’t possible.

“How? What?”

Fury chuckled at Bucky’s expression, which he didn’t appreciate much. He was well aware how gobsmacked he must look right now – but it wasn’t something he could help. “I know; I said it had been a while.”

“No.” Bucky didn’t know how he managed to find his voice, but it was the only thing he could bring himself to say.

“Yes.” Fury’s manner copied Bucky’s own entirely.

Why was Fury so adamant about this clear lie? If he’d been asleep for that long he’d have been an old man. He very clearly wasn’t – how did they even think this would be believable?

“Why should I believe you?” Bucky pointed out. “How do I know you’re not just h – trying to trick me.” He very nearly alluded that they were hydra, but realised that if this was a civilian hospital, they likely wouldn’t know about the organisation.

Fury – was he smirking? That was just a weird response. “I assure you, Sergeant, you’re 70 years into the future.”

Bucky couldn’t deny that it was odd that they were really sticking to this story. “Prove it.” There, that should do it. If this was all a big set up – especially considering they hadn’t given him a single explanation yet.

Fury hesitated – the first time Bucky had noticed him do so. “Come with me, Mr Barnes.” He beckoned for him to follow, and Bucky scrambled to his feet. One of the nurses tried to take his arm – presumably to help him up – but he shook her off.

He was pleased to feel that it was much easier to walk right now. There was barely even any leg wobble going on this time.

Fury said nothing to him the entire time they walked. All Bucky could do was scurry after him while also trying to look around him. There was only so much he had time to look at these things… and if he was being honest, parts of Fury’s story were beginning to sound like they were true.

How was this place even a real building? He’d assumed that he was in a hospital when he’d woken up, but when they marched through a big, heavy set of double doors he was shocked to see that they were now in a total different building, with a very… monochrome palette.

Wait, no.

Turning around, the hospital environment from before was still there, right through the doors. Did that mean that this place just… had its own hospital wing? How big was this place?

But he didn’t have time to worry about that right now. Fury hadn’t stopped walking, and he’d nearly gotten out of Bucky’s eyeline. Given how large this place was turning out to be, Bucky didn’t want to risk getting lost.

It didn’t take long for Bucky to realise that he was entirely lost. He was perfectly happy to keep following Fury (assuming that he knew where he was going – and Bucky wasn’t entirely convinced that anyone could possibly find their way around this place without a map), but he had no idea where he was in relation to… well, anything. (He tried to ignore the nagging suspicion that Fury might be doing it on purpose.)

It was a relief, then, when they seemed to reach the ground floor after descending a multitude of stairs.

There were a lot more people on this floor than any other – that didn’t necessarily surprise him, but it did mean that there were a lot more people to stare at him. The exact reason for their staring was unclear, but Bucky did his best to pretend like it wasn’t happening.

Throwing open the doors to the building, Fury gestured at the city in front of them.

Admittedly, the view wasn’t the best.

But none of it looked familiar. The buildings were too high, too metallic, too alien to be right. They sat on the edge of reasonable, just slightly off from what he knew buildings of that type should be like.

“Where are we?” Bucky asked, coming to stand at Fury’s side. It was the first time he’d addressed Fury first, and it felt weird.

Fury didn’t seem to mind too much though. “Washington, D.C.” Okay. That made sense, if he’d been brought back from Europe. “Do you believe me yet?”

Bucky looked at the city again. He almost wanted to believe it – the idea that he’d made it to the future was so tantalisingly amazing. And yet, it also seemed too good to be true. Really, how realistic was any of it?

Then Fury pulled a small, metallic box out of his pocket. Bucky took a step back – the chance that it was some kind of weapon was too great for him to relax entirely.

Naturally, Fury didn’t miss that fact. “At ease, soldier.” It seemed to almost amuse him to say that, and Bucky couldn’t possibly imagine why. “This is just my phone.”

Phone? How could that thing possibly call anything?

Okay, maybe that was the most important part of this (which seemed to be quickly turning into a showcase), as Fury brought this thing closer. It seemed to be 90% screen, like the movie theatre, showing him… something?

Without saying anything, Fury began to touch the screen, which somehow managed to move things about on it?

“Okay, point proved, I have no idea what’s going on.” Bucky threw his hands up in an ‘I surrender’ gesture.

Fury nodded, slipping the ‘phone’ back in his pocket. “I can promise we’re not lying to you, Sergeant,” he said, not unkindly. “Take your time to think things over, and then come back inside.”

Turning away, Fury walked back towards the main doors they’d come out of. Bucky realised that he really was being left alone out here.

A wild thought about how he could escape raced through his mind. There was nobody that he could see watching him, and there was a clear shot all the way down the road to the rest of the city. He’d probably be able to make it into the rest of the city before anyone had the chance to catch up with him, and by that point he could easily disguise himself and hide…

It would certainly answer the question still floating around in his mind about whether any of this was real, never mind true.

But would it actually be worth it? He squinted at the skyline, trying to find any proof that he actually wasn’t in the future. How much could it prove? It might be better to take his proof from these weird people and their strange gadgets, all things considered. It wasn’t exactly impossible that they were watching him right now – it might not even work to try.

So for now… probably best to go along with whatever they wanted him to do. Maybe it would help make some sense of this situation.

By the point that Bucky made his way back inside the building, he realised that he had no idea where he was meant to be going. Even if he’d thought he was meant to go back up to the hospital portion, the chances that he could make it back there without getting lost were extremely low.

The people milling around on this floor paid him little mind, passing him without a second thought. It sort of made Bucky feel slightly less hopeless – at least he wasn’t being stared at.

That didn’t help his situation though. He could see a reception desk on the other side of the large room – but it looked busy, and important, and he didn’t know if ‘I don’t know where I’m meant to be going but I swear I’m meant to be here’ would go down very well. Especially since he had no way of confirming his identity.

And then he noticed a red headed woman staring at him from the corner. Bucky didn’t think that he recognised her – but that didn’t mean anything, given how many people he’d walked past as he made his way down here.

Still – the way that she was focusing on him made him think that she wasn’t just watching him for the fun of it.

Well, talking to her sounded like the best plan he could come up with right now. He made to saunter over – there would be no harm in trying on the charm for luck. (The woman didn’t seem affected by it – but that was okay. He knew as well as anyone how easy it was to hide one’s emotions.)

“Hi there,” he said, leaning against the wall beside her.

For someone who’d spent the last few minutes watching him, her first response was to just keep looking at him. It was ever so slightly discomforting, but it was nothing he couldn’t deal with.

“You come here often?” it was the first line that popped into his head – and he couldn’t deny that the irony of the statement didn’t escape him.

The woman quirked an eyebrow at him – and then flicked her vibrant hair over her shoulder as she turned away from him and began walking away. “Come with me.”

Bucky could recognise an order when he heard one. Maybe this was less of a coincidence than he thought it was – nevertheless, he followed regardless. The chances of it leading to things being explained more were high, and he wanted in on that.

He didn’t think he recognised where they were going – but there was no way he could be sure, given how much of this place he’d travelled through today.

There were fewer a fewer people the further they walked through the building. This time there were no stairs – but all the same Bucky got the feeling that they were slowly making their way upwards. Unlike the journey downwards, there were doors that needed the swipe of a card to get through. It felt strange, to have to hurry through the doors after the woman before they closed. He couldn’t deny that he was also keeping close to her in an attempt to see what it was about the swiping that made the doors open – but she kept it covered too well, there was nothing to make out.

(if he was being honest, it was also helping him believe the theory that this really was the future. Either that or he was slowly going insane and everything since Azzano had been a fevered dream.)

Bucky didn’t know what he’d been expecting from being brought up here. But when the woman finally pushed open a door into an actual room, he saw – a mad scientist’s laboratory?

Then rational thought took over and he realised it probably wasn’t. Unless they were going to experiment on him. Which would be an odd thing to do after they went to all this effort over him.

There were people in the room who paid them barely any attention. Each of them was wearing a long white coat of some sort, which Bucky supposed made them the mad scientists.

But if they weren’t going to pay him attention, then why was he here at all?

The red headed woman turned to him. “They’re going to do some tests on you,” she said blankly. “Do what they tell you to do. I’ll come collect you when they’re done.”

“Wait, you’re going to –?“ Bucky didn’t even get to finish his sentence before her hair was whipping out of the door.

Turning back around to face the rest of the room, Bucky squinted at the rest of the room. None of what he could see seemed like it’d be able to test him much. And really it brought back far too many memories that he’d rather not think about.

Nothing happened for a good few seconds, and Bucky wondered whether he was really supposed to be there. Were they not expecting him or something?

Then a man approached him. “You’re the man they found, right?”

What was it with all these people asking really weird questions? Bucky nodded, but couldn’t help but wonder why they insisted on wording their questions strangely.

“Right, come with me.” Bucky eyed up the strange instruments on all the tables, wondering what they were going to do to him with them – but as they started to walk, he realised that they were heading for another door in the wall.

A slight amount of anxiety filled him as they approached, his mind filling with wild imaginings of what might be in there, the inescapable memories of the last time he let some scientists experiment on him.

The door was opened to reveal – well, stuff that might have looked intimidating if he hadn’t already spent time in their medical wing. He was pretty sure he even recognised some of the stuff from in the room he’d stayed in. The biggest thing in there was… just weird, but it didn’t look like it’d be able to torture him.

“Normally I wouldn’t even be doing this,” the man said, almost dismissively. “I don’t know why Fury asked us to conduct the tests, but here we are. Let’s get this done with as soon as possible, yeah?”

Bucky nodded.

He spent a lot of the next half an hour nervously eyeing up the larger machine in the corner while they did other things. The taking of his blood he could understand (even though the needle made him nervous). What they told him would measure his blood pressure looked suspiciously like it would cut off the circulation to his arm (or at least, that’s what it felt like) even though he couldn’t figure out how the air got into the band without it being pumped in there. It didn’t – but that didn’t stop him from worrying about it.

The doctor (as Bucky realised he must be) then did things like looking into his mouth and ears, and generally poked and prodded him a lot. It wasn’t really the best experience, but it wasn’t any worse than any other medical examination he’d had to take.

He didn’t mind being weighed either – although he was surprised that the number on the scale didn’t match the numbers from when he’d last weighed himself. Not that they didn’t fluctuate, but he definitely didn’t remember losing this much weight before he ‘fell asleep’.

And then it was time for the big machine. The doctor called it a treadmill, although that didn’t really clear up any of Bucky’s questions about it. Then he pressed a button on it – and the flat bottom part began to move. “We’ll get you to run on this next. Before that though, we need to measure your heart rate, so we need to put these on you…” the doctor wandered over to the table on the other side of the room that had held a lot of the equipment, and came back holding some wires and some white, circular things. “It’s a good thing Stark made a bunch of these wireless, am I right?”

What? Bucky stared at him. Was he talking about Howard? Because Bucky knew a lot of the stuff that Howard had worked on over the years, and he was pretty sure that he’d have known about it if he’d come up with anything like this.

When the doctor seemed to catch on that Bucky had no idea what he was talking about, he cleared his throat. “Right, anyway, if you’ll let me…” he didn’t finish his sentence, but when he came at Bucky with the circular things he did his best to avoid the instincts that told him to run. Instead, he allowed the man to stick then on his chest (which was a bit awkward, especially when he didn’t get what the doctor was getting at when he motioned for him to lift his shirt up for him. It took the doctor doing it for him in the end, and it made for some awkward fumbling.)

Then the doctor told him, “okay, we’re recording your resting heart rate now – feel free to get on the treadmill when you’re ready.” He turned the thing back on, and Bucky cringed at the idea of getting onto that thing. How was he even meant to do it? It wasn’t moving fast, but Bucky was already imagining being swept off his feet and falling on his butt.

It came close to happening the first time – but he was able to get his balance quickly. Clearly the idea here was to run as fast as the moving part did – and Bucky was sure that he’d be able to keep up.

The start was easy enough, switching between jogging and walking a lot. He was practically bored doing it, and he got the feeling that the doctor was too. But then it sped up, and it got a little harder to cope with, little by little.

It was impossible to know what the doctor thought about it. He made notes on a square thing like Fury had showed him, but he didn’t know whether any of it was a good thing or a bad thing.

Then, just to make things more difficult, the doctor asked him to put a mask over his mouth and nose. “It’s just to measure oxygen intake,” he said. Bucky thought that the man probably meant to reassure him, but it really didn’t work. He wasn’t convinced that this thing wasn’t going to suffocate him in some way – but he was pleased to find that it didn’t seem to do anything except make it impossible for him to itch his nose.

By the time he was out of breath, the treadmill was finally stopped. Flopping off it, the doctor handed him a cup of water, and said, “we’re done here. You can go back into the main room; someone will be along to pick you up soon.” He turned away, back to his… science.

If that wasn’t a dismissal Bucky didn’t know what was.

Making a quick exit on legs that tingled unpleasantly, he walked back into the hustle of the first room. It took a second, but eventually one of them pointed him to the side of the room with less science going on.

Bucky was grateful for the chair he was offered. Even though he was used to being active, somehow he knew that somehow he wasn’t as fit as he should have been, even though for obvious reasons he didn’t know how far he’d actually run.

It was as he was catching his breath that he realised he didn’t know when the red headed woman would be returning. She hadn’t said, had she? He had no idea if she would be in contact with these people, if she would have any idea that he was done with all this shit.

At least he had a good view of the door from his chair – he wouldn’t miss it when she came for him.

In the meantime, he watched the others in the room go about their business. Not that he really had a clue what they were doing with all of the pouring of one liquid into another and the tubes and weird colours, but it was still fun to watch.

When the door finally opened, he jumped. He hadn’t realised how on edge he’d been – and when he looked up, the person who’d walked in was not the woman from before. Instead it was a man, who looked like he was dressed up to go fight. His whole demeanour was harsh. Even though Bucky was fairly certain that he could take him if he needed to, he’d really rather not right now.

Busying himself with avoiding eye contact with the man, Bucky settled himself in to wait for the red head to return.

It was a surprise, then, when the man came to a stop in front of him. “Can I help you?” Bucky’s nerves came out as sass, which probably wasn’t the best decision, but it wasn’t something that he could take back.

Fortunately, this new stranger didn’t seem to be offended by Bucky’s attitude – but he didn’t seem to be impressed, either.

“Director Fury wants to see you,” he said gruffly after appraising Bucky for a minute. “Follow me.” Right, it seemed he was taking the same approach as the woman from earlier. Was this just what the people who worked here were like? Were they trained to be stand-offish?

Clearly this guy wouldn’t appreciate any more cracks – and jeez, he was even quicker off the mark than the woman had been, he was already halfway across the room.

Bucky scrambled to his feet. It felt a little like the first time he woke up here (and wow, that hadn’t even been that long ago but it felt like an age), his legs refusing to co-operate properly and nearly making him stumble.

It didn’t seem to be as bad as it had been the first time, and it only took a second of balancing for him to get his legs back under him. Giving a small, cheery wave to the people that had done the tests on him (which didn’t seem to do much for them, but oh well) Bucky made his way out of the room, hot on the heels of the other man.

By this point Bucky was acutely aware that he had no idea where he was. Windows were few and far between in here, and he was sure he’d been turned around plenty. He thought that they were heading to a new section – but he had no way of knowing, not when everything looked so similar.

And then the man opened another door, and Bucky was assaulted with daylight. Or at least, dim, late afternoon daylight. He blinked.

“I’ve delivered him, as you requested.” The intonation of his guide was as bland as it had been the rest of the day, although perhaps slightly less so. Fury was standing near the windows on the other side of the room, looking out of the huge glass windows that were letting all the light in.

Fury didn’t turn around, but his “thank you,” was dismissive enough. Clearly that was enough to make others realise that too, and Bucky could see the clear amount of reverence that the employees of this place had for Fury.

The man turned to leave (and Bucky didn’t think he was imagining the slightly unpleasant look that he shot him) and Bucky jumped as someone else brushed past him, heading into the room and taking a seat. They seemed comfortable, and Bucky boggled at the idea of any of this being casual, and – right. That hair was familiar.

Fury finally turned around, beckoning him to join them over there. Bucky wasn’t sure why this made him nervous, but it gave him the feeling that he was like a lamb to the slaughter here.

Walking into the lion’s den, Bucky took a seat next to the red headed woman, opposite from Fury.

He gave the woman a small smile – nothing like trying to make a tense situation a little less awkward – and, to his surprise she gave him a small nod in response. Well, that was weird.

Bucky’s skin began to prickle a little – and he realised that this was because Fury was examining him. It was definitely an appraisal, and Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if it was because of the fact that he chose not to leave earlier.

“Sergeant Barnes… I see you passed your tests with flying colours.” The man pushed a piece of paper closer to Bucky over the table.

Bucky took a glance at it – and realised that none of the numbers on it made any sense to him. He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“I trust that you found our hospitality… acceptable?” He left no pause for an answer – Bucky suspected that he wasn’t expecting one. He gestured at the red headed woman. “This is Natasha. She will be your guide during your time here, until you acclimatise. She’ll take you to where you’re going to be staying.”

Natasha. At least he had a name to put to her face now. Looking over at her, she smirked at him, and Bucky realised that there was a good chance he was in over his head with these people.

Then Fury spoke again, drawing his attention. “As of right now we aren’t sure what security clearance to give you. That will be resolved in the next few days, but for now Natasha will take you wherever you need to go.” Bucky didn’t miss the wording of Fury’s sentence – there was nothing in there about where he might want to go.

Bucky nodded anyway. He wasn’t exactly sure what getting a clearance level would entail here – but it sounded important nonetheless.

The question of why he was here, specifically, floated through his mind. Like, why were these people so determined to keep him here? Was this what he wanted to do?

One look at Fury’s impassive face gave him no answers, but did tell him that there was a good chance that questioning things too much might get him into trouble. They didn’t seem to be exactly… forthcoming with the answers around here. Maybe if he waited long enough he’d get explanation. (He could hear the sarcasm in his own inner voice.)

“Do you have any questions?” Fury’s voice was as impassive as it had been this whole time. This guy was hard to read, and honestly Bucky had to resist the urge to ask every question that had been bugging him since he got here. How had he slept for so long? What had caused it? Where was Steve? Why wouldn’t he have come to get him, if he had slept for so long? What about… well, everything else? If he was fine, didn’t they need him somewhere? Why was he being held here?

But already none of those things had been answered for him. If they were willing to tell him – surely they would have said it anyway.

He looked at Natasha. Her face was as emotionless as Fury’s was – clearly there would be no help from that avenue.

“No.” He gave Fury a smile. Maybe that would make him think Bucky didn’t suspect anything.

With a nod, Fury stood. Somehow, Natasha managed to stand at exactly the same time. Bucky was left scrambling to do the same, knowing that they were forcing him to make a fool of himself.

There were certain similarities to the last time he’d followed Natasha somewhere. She took the lead at first, holding the door open for him to catch up as they made their way out.

This time, however, they walked side by side along the corridors. Bucky didn’t know whether he thought that she was genuinely being friendlier, or if this was just more of these people’s weirdness. There were just too many variables here – he wanted so badly to believe that they wanted to help him. They’d supposedly been the ones to wake him up, after all.

“What do you think of this place? It’s pretty cool, huh?” The question came at him out of the blue. Bucky did a double take at the sudden change in attitude – it was like she turned into a different person. She smiled at him, and seemed to drop closer towards him. “It’ll be good.”

“I –“ Bucky couldn’t find the words to answer her question. “Yeah.”

“Good. I think you’ll like it here.” Natasha nodded to herself.

“I – I hope so…”

Natasha actually seemed open now – like she was glad that he was here, rather than just tolerating his existence. Taking the plunge, he decided to be forward and ask a question of his own. “So, have you worked here long?” It was the first question that came to him, and it seemed like something that would have a simple answer.

When Natasha’s response was to just smirk at him, he didn’t know what to think. Did that mean she’d worked here for a while? Or that she didn’t work here at all?

He didn’t dare question it.

Their walk was a little more comfortable than their previous one had been. Maybe he was more confused than he had been, but he didn’t feel as intimidated as he had before.

Bucky took the opportunity to ask her a few more questions. For a minute or two there he could almost kid himself that things were fairly normal, that he was just making a new friend in a strange place.

And then the heavily armed men marched past them at one point, and Bucky couldn’t really kid himself that this was any sort of normal, civilian life. Not that he had any clue what they would actually being to – it wasn’t like Fury had gone into any amount of detail about what actually went on around here. Bucky could only immediately assume that it was some sort of military thing, but that was all he could think of.

Natasha didn’t seem bothered by them though – and Bucky tried to make it seem like he wasn’t either. They continued to talk, mostly about absolutely nothing. Natasha didn’t ask anything about him personally, which Bucky found a little odd, but he was just as willing to listen to her giving a running commentary on the places they were passing.

He really wasn’t complaining about having what appeared to be better company. But when it came at the cost of possibly not being real? He didn’t know what to think.

But it wouldn’t do to dwell on the possibility of things here going south – not when he had nowhere else to go. When there was a good chance he’d be here for a while.

Then they passed through another door that was a little thicker, and Bucky wondered whether they were going into a more heavily armed area.

But when there was a lack of the see through doors, and there were far fewer people, Bucky realised that they were nearing where he was going to be staying. The extra security was presumably a matter of privacy – Bucky couldn’t fault that, but it did also make him wonder if that was him trapped in here now.

Then they stopped outside a door in the middle of the corridor. If Bucky hadn’t known better, he might have thought that they had simply stopped at random. “Is this it?” He asked.

Natasha handed him a key card. “This is for your room,” she said. “You’re the only one who has one. This is your space.”

Bucky eyed the area. Sure, it was set up like an apartment building, even though it was in the same building as everything else. But it looked deserted – he wasn’t convinced that there was anyone else around. It made the whole thing weird, especially when what he was used to was a noisy, thin-walled apartment that he shared with Steve. (He tried to not let the band around his heart squeeze too tightly as he thought about his best friend again.)

There was a similar pad next to the door that had been next to all the others. Natasha gave him an encouraging smile – and he held the card up to it. He was impressed that his hand didn’t shake – it kinda felt like it should be, like all of this was too much.

A beep came from the machine, which hadn’t happened any of the other times he’d seen Natasha do this, and he startled back a little. Was that supposed to happen?

Natasha tilted her head in the direction of the door handle, encouraging him to test it.

Pushing the handle down, he opened the door. (The beep clearly meant the door unlocked – he’d have to remember that for next time.)

The room within was about the size of the apartment he and Steve had shared all those years ago. “Woah…” Part of him felt like he was dreaming as he glided inside.

It was a fully furnished front room, with several couches and a low table in the middle. Everything in it seemed far too lavish, although Bucky wasn’t entirely sure that this was the way they had meant for it to look.

Trailing a hand over the back of the couch, Bucky wandered through the room, taking it all in. “All of this is mine…?” He whispered, half to himself.

Startling as a hand touched his upper arm, he whipped around, drawn out of his trance. It was only Natasha – and she gave his arm a friendly squeeze. “You should explore the rest of it too.”

Bucky stared at her, not understanding. Smirking, she took his arm and led him over to the other side of the room. There was a door there, one that he’d not noticed in his wonder at the size of the first room. She threw it open – and behind it lay a large bedroom. Okay, that wasn’t so surprising in itself, but the sizes of these rooms? Why did they need to be so big if he was the only one living here?

It was even more amazing when Natasha opened another door that was in the bedroom which led to a bathroom. She seemed amused by his bewilderment, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

“I’ll see you later,” Natasha said, clapping him on the shoulder as she walked past him.

He wasn’t even sure he quite believed that this place was all his.

But, even as pressing as that was, there was something else he couldn’t ignore.

Exhaustion.

There was still light streaming through the windows. Bucky was well aware that it was early evening at latest, but that didn’t stop him from flopping down onto his bed. It would seem that being ‘asleep’ for so long had only made him more tired as a result. How that made any sense, Bucky didn’t know, but it didn’t stop his eyes from closing by themselves.

He wasn’t even under the covers, and there was a definite breeze flowing over him, but he was still comfortable. (He tried to ignore the sense of wrongness that came from Steve not being next to him – and maybe he was just about tired enough to make it work.)

It was impossible to avoid this, even though he was still as tightly wound as he had been earlier. There was only so long you could ignore the need to sleep for, and Bucky had never been one to ignore that for long if he didn’t have to.

Plus, this bed really was comfortable.