Chapter 3

"Oh thank God," Tony mumbles a few minutes later when Bucky comes back around. "You have got to stop doing that!"

Bucky blinks up at him, confused. "What?"

Steve sits back on his heels, relieved, while Tony makes a face.

"This!" Tony exclaims, gesturing to Bucky, sprawled out on the floor with his head in Tony's lap. "The whole fainting-on-me-in-the-middle-of-my-workshop thing!"

He's trying to sound irritated, but Steve can read the relief and worry in his body language.

"...Sorry?" Bucky says, still disoriented, rubbing his face with his flesh hand.

It seems to suddenly occur to him that he's lying down in Tony's lap, because he bolts to a sitting position, nearly smacking his and Tony's heads together, and lists drunkenly to the side, clutching his head. Tony wraps his arms around him before he falls over and pulls him up against his shoulder, hand carefully cradling the back of Bucky's head.

"Careful," he says, lightly tapping Bucky's head with his index finger. "We don't know what's wrong with you, and I've been on enough drunken benders to know sitting up that fast either makes you dizzy or throw up or both, and I don't think you clonked your head on anything besides me on the way down, but-"

Bucky reaches out and clenches his fingers tight in the fabric of Tony's shirt, burying his face in Tony's shoulder and slumping against him. Tony shuts up like he's been slapped, his whole body going tense, then closes his eyes and relaxes into the embrace, carefully carding his fingers through the hair at the nape of Bucky's neck.

Steve is just starting to wonder if Bucky has passed out again when he mumbles something unintelligible into Tony's shoulder, piquing Steve's curiosity despite his better sense telling him he should leave and give the two some privacy.

"What?" Tony asks, brows furrowed, and nudges Bucky's head back up.

Bucky swallows visibly, looking dazed. "Bucky," he croaks, and suddenly Steve's vision goes white around the edges, a pressure settling on his chest like an asthma attack he knows he isn't having. "My name is Bucky."

"Oh," Tony says, a strange look crossing his face before it changes to a small, tentative smile. Bucky returns the expression, albeit more hesitant. "Hey, Bucky. I'm Tony."

A noise tears its way out of Bucky - a sound that could either be a sob or a laugh - and he collapses against Tony, shaking, with what Steve doesn't know. He feels close to collapse himself, and leans in close to them, knowing he's intruding on something private but not caring at the moment.

His best friend remembers his name after nearly seven decades, and that's all that matters in the world.

They stay huddled together on the workshop floor for a while - long enough for Steve to start feeling uncomfortable, incorporeal body or not - but they still don't move, even though Steve knows Tony must be sore from his fall earlier. It's silent but for the sounds of their breathing and the occasional beep from one of the bots, almost peaceful.

It's a nice moment...right up until Tony ruins it by saying "So...what kind of backwoods, hillbilly name is Bucky?"

Eventually the floor proves too much for Tony, who suggests moving after complaining about his ass losing circulation. Once he and Bucky have helped each other to the couch in an awkward shuffle of sleeping limbs, Tony - in an ironic role-reversal - takes it upon himself to try and bully Bucky into eating something and going up to bed. Bucky turns down the food - even Tony's offer of pizza, which they have both discovered is Bucky's favorite - and refuses to go upstairs, but he does start dozing on the couch. Tony stays with him, turning on the tv and pulling up specs of the armor, discussing with JARVIS how to fix the icing problem.

Steve zones out for a little while, trying to sort out the hodgepodge of his emotions. He feels...odd, both heavy and light in ways he can't pinpoint. As delighted as he is with the progress Bucky has made, for reasons he can't fathom he still feels inexplicably uneasy.

If he's being truthful with himself, he thinks a part of it might be Tony and Bucky's ever-evolving relationship. Not that he's surprised by it; Bucky and Tony had been building up to whatever it is since they'd met, and he'd have to be blind not to see the signs in the two people he'd grown to read better than anyone else in the world. He'd been happy, even, when he'd first started noticing it, because he knew them, and knew how well they could be together. He doesn't mind it, even hopes for it, except…

Except, deep down, a dark part of him doesn't want to share. He loves these two people more than anything in the universe, wants nothing more than for them to be happy - but he can't help feeling jealous, too. His Bucky, his best friend in the whole world, and his Tony, the boy he'd grown to love like a son…

If they had each other, where did that leave him?

He'd gotten through nearly seventy years stuck on this earth by loving them and being there for them when no one else was, and he knew that with each other, they wouldn't - didn't - need him anymore.

He'd have to let go, and he's not sure he's ready for that.

When Steve tunes back in to the world around him, Tony is crouched low over the couch by Bucky, mouth in a tense line. He hesitates before he reaches out to touch Bucky's shoulder, and Bucky's eyes are open almost before Tony makes contact with him.

"Hey, no, don't get up," Tony says, pressing back against Bucky's chest. Bucky frowns and moves so he's sitting up on his elbow anyway, but doesn't move any further.

"Somethin' wrong?" Bucky asks, still sounding tired, and Steve is suddenly taken with just how little Bucky has actually slept since breaking away from HYDRA. Originally he'd thought it was by design, or because Bucky didn't need as much - the super-soldier serum had had a similar effect on Steve, back in the day - but now he wonders if he simply couldn't sleep.

"I've gotta go take care of something," Tony says, oddly tentative, his free hand beating a staccato rhythm against the arc reactor. "Are you going to be okay if I leave for a few hours?"

Bucky tenses almost imperceptibly, his flesh hand coming up to grip Tony's forearm in what Steve thinks is an unconscious gesture.

"I shouldn't be gone long, and JARVIS is here if you need anything." Tony adds. He twists his arm until Bucky's grip slackens, but instead of pulling completely free he catches Bucky's hand in his and gives it a squeeze.

"If you don't want me to go, I can stay." he says softly, staring straight into Bucky's eyes with an intensity that makes Steve look away, feeling warm and a little embarrassed.

Bucky swallows. "No, I'll...I'll be okay." he says carefully, pulling his hand back and clenching it into a fist in his lap.

Something Steve can't quite identify flickers in Tony's expression, but before he can dwell on it Tony is already halfway across the room, walking towards the stairs and talking over his shoulder.

"JARVIS, go ahead and throw a little hotrod red into that render and fabricate it while I'm gone, okay? U, Dum-E, behave yourselves, and remember - no getting handsy with unconscious people on the couch." He pauses at the doorway, hand resting against the glass. "Oh, and, uh, Bucky?" he says, faltering slightly at the name and turning back towards the couch. "Get some rest while I'm gone, okay?"

Bucky blinks owlishly and nods, once. Tony gives a small, relieved little smile and winks at him, and then he's dashing up the stairs, talking rapidly to JARVIS while Bucky watches unhappily, his flesh hand digging into the back of the couch.

Bucky surprises Steve by actually taking Tony's advice and drifting back off to sleep, his face pressed into the blanket Tony left on the couch. He thinks it's likely due to a perceived lack of anything better to do in Tony's absence rather than an actual want for sleep, though.

Steve keeps him in sight by sitting on the coffee table, feeling some of his earlier tension drain away. After years of watching Bucky's lifeless form in the cryochamber though a tiny window, he finds Bucky's snores soothing.

He watches in amusement as Dum-E blatantly ignores Tony's reminder and pokes at Bucky a few times, then switches to trying to pull the blanket out from under him in what appears to be a misguided attempt to cover him with the it. The bot eventually rolls off when Bucky doesn't budge, but comes back with one of Tony's grimy hoodies and throws that over him instead, beeping triumphantly.

Steve chuckles, both surprised and pleased Bucky is sleeping deep enough that the bot's antics aren't disturbing him. On a whim he follows Dum-E over to the wreckage of the car Tony smashed earlier and amuses himself by watching the bots scoot the mess around and otherwise make it worse. He's not certain, but he thinks Dum-E is likely trying to find the biggest, shiniest piece to give to Bucky when he wakes up.

There's a crash from across the room that makes Steve jump and the bots swivel their claws around. Steve's stomach lurches when he looks over at the couch and sees Bucky curled up on the ground, arms tucked protectively against his stomach and shaking like a leaf.

"Bucky?" Steve gasps, at Bucky's side in an instant. Bucky groans and trembles harder, his flesh hand scrambling for purchase on the hard floor.

"Sir, are you alright?" JARVIS asks, his soothing tones grounding Steve and calming him a little. "My sensors indicate your vitals have elevated to an unhealthy level. Would you like me to call Sir?"

"No, I'm - " Bucky chokes, then shudders, pressing his face into the floor. "- okay. Nightmare." he slurs, pulling himself up to a sitting position and wincing, pressing his metal hand to his forehead. He slowly opens his eyes, his lower lip trembling. "No, not a nightmare. A...memory." he says, tightly, his breaths coming out impossibly faster.

Steve grimaces, a thousand memories coming to him unbidden: Bucky, falling from Zola's train. The surgery to 'fix' Bucky's arm. The mindwipe. The cryochamber. The dozens of kills Bucky has done in his time as the Winter Soldier.

Any one of those memories are enough to give Bucky nightmares for the rest of his life; yet, with Bucky's next words, Steve realizes it's the one memory that will hurt him the most right now.

"JARVIS?" Bucky croaks, flesh hand twisting into Tony's hoodie. "Who are Howard and Maria Stark?"

Steve's stomach twists. Oh God.

If Steve hadn't been around JARVIS since he'd been created, he'd never have known JARVIS hesitates before he answers Bucky.

"They are Sir's mother and father." he says, pulling up a few holograms - each with several photos of Tony's parents, mostly Howard in varying stages of his life.

Bucky stares at the image in front of him, of Howard and Maria, standing with a teenaged Tony. His breath hitches.

"H-how did they die?" Bucky asks, voice barely above a whisper.

Not when or if - how.

"Bucky…" Steve tries, helplessly.

JARVIS doesn't answer verbally, instead pulling up the image of a newspaper dated December 17, 1991. The headline reads 'HOWARD AND MARIA STARK DIE IN CAR ACCIDENT ON LONG ISLAND'.

Steve watches Bucky's face drain of color. He shoots upward, tripping over the hoodie and colliding with a work table, knocking several tools astray. He makes it to the tiny workshop bathroom just in time to heave into the toilet bowel, collapsing to his knees in front of it and ignoring JARVIS's call of alarm.

"I'm so sorry, Buck." Steve whispers miserably, crouching down beside him.

He wishes Tony were here to help him, but at the same time wonders if that would make things worse, given the memory. Bucky looks very close to hyperventilating.

"Mr. Bucky," JARVIS says, sharply, making both Bucky and Steve jump.

Steve blinks, dumbfounded, because 'Mr. Bucky' is not something you hear every day. At any other time it might have been funny, and he's shocked enough that he almost misses the rest of the A.I.'s sentence.

"I fear I must call Sir and tell him if you are unwell-"

"Don't!" Bucky gasps, panicked, pulling himself to a standing position. "I can't- he shouldn't-"

He shudders, a hand coming up to cover his mouth as tears fall freely down his face.

"I can't be around him." he whispers, choking on a sob.

Steve can practically hear a heart breaking into a million pieces, and he doesn't even know if it's Bucky's, Tony's, or his.

Bucky bolts.

He tells JARVIS he's going for a walk to get some fresh air and clear his head, but Steve can tell he's lying. He's sure JARVIS can, too, but Tony had specifically forbidden him from keeping Bucky locked in against his will shortly after he arrived, so the A.I. has no choice but to let him go.

The only things Bucky takes with him are a hoodie and a cracked piece of mirror from the car Tony had trashed, both offered to him by Dum-E on his way out. The hoodie is the same dingy thing the bot had tried to cover him with earlier, and he slides it on with red-rimmed eyes, putting the glass in his pocket.

"Thank you." he mutters, and gives Dum-E one last pat before he leaves, hand lingering on his strut.

Steve goes with him. He thinks of Tony and feels a pang in his chest, but he doesn't want to leave Bucky alone right now. He knows he can go back and forth between them with a simple thought anyway, but it still makes him feel guilty, like he's picking one over the other.

Especially when he checks in on Tony a few hours later, just in time to hear JARVIS tell Tony about Bucky. He can tell Tony is already upset by something - something else must have happened wherever it was Tony went - but he takes the news of Bucky's departure like a physical blow.

"If I may say so, Sir, perhaps he will return when he's feeling less...distressed." JARVIS suggests dolefully.

"Y-yeah, sure." Tony says, collapsing onto the couch, face in his hands. "I mean, he lasted this long without getting sick of me, right?" From the despondency in his voice, though, he's not holding out much hope.

"Sir, there is something else that might interest you," JARVIS adds - hesitantly, Steve thinks.

Tony looks up, his face pinched. "What is it, JARVIS?"

JARVIS still sounds hesitant when he answers. "Well, Sir...before he left, our guest was asking questions concerning your mother and father."

Steve winces as Tony stills, his knuckles going white as he grips his knees. "And?" he asks in the carefully blank tone of voice he tends to use when mentioning Howard.

"He seemed most devastated when he learned of their passing - particularly when he discovered how they passed, Sir."

Tony swallowed, his eyes glazing over. "Is that all?"

Again JARVIS hesitates, then says "The line of questioning started after he awoke from a nightmare. One that he admitted he thought might be a memory."

Tony's brow crinkles in confusion. "That...doesn't make any sense, JARVIS. Are you sure you didn't mishear him?"

"I can show you my surveillance footage of the incident if you'd like, Sir." JARVIS replies, gently.

Tony flinches almost imperceptibly, looking down at his clasped hands. "No, JARVIS, I, uh, I don't think can right now." he says in a small voice. "Maybe, maybe later."

When it doesn't hurt so much, goes unsaid, though Steve knows Tony is thinking it.

Steve has to close his eyes at the open sadness and loss in Tony's voice, his throat closing up at the sheer unfairness of it all. In a perfect world he'd be able to go out and give the guy who'd just broken his kid's heart a good ass-kicking, and under any other circumstances maybe he would, but this isn't that simple. Bucky is as much a victim in this as Tony, if not more, and it isn't Bucky's fault.

The two people he loves most in the world are hurting, and once again, Steve can't do anything about it.

He just wants them - both of them - to be happy.

"Oh dear God," Tony groans suddenly into the silence of the room. "Please don't let him be my illegitimate half-brother."

Steve snorts out a muffled laugh despite his mood and Tony's obvious horror, a wave of affection coursing through him as Tony starts panicking and demanding JARVIS do DNA testing Steve is certain the A.I. can't actually do.

Sighing, he brushes a hand over Tony's hair, wishing he could feel it, and wills himself to Bucky's side.

As much as he wants to stay for Tony, his best friend needs him, too.

The next few days make Bucky's chaotic first few weeks away from HYDRA look like a cakewalk.

It starts with the breakdown Bucky has once he gets out of sight of Tony's house, falling to his knees and bawling his eyes out. He hyperventilates again until he passes out, but wakes up before Steve can really panic, and pulls himself together long enough to get himself to the nearest city.

Once there, he breaks into a liquor store and drinks - a lot. After imbibing enough to give any normal person alcohol poisoning and more, he passes out again, this time in a dirty back alley, only to wake up screaming a few hours later from another memory-turned-nightmare.

It isn't the last, either.

Steve doesn't know if time is finally catching up with him and the HYDRA programming is failing, or if Bucky's sudden remembrance of his name is a trigger, but either way, the damage is done and the floodgates have been opened: Bucky is remembering.

Bucky is remembering, and watching it happen is almost as bad as watching him lose himself to begin with - especially when Bucky starts to realize the extent of the damage done to him, on top of what he himself has done to others.

Steve doesn't know if it's days or hours after they've left Tony when Bucky steals a laptop - his computer skills greatly improved after a few weeks under Tony's wing - and looks up 'James Buchanan Barnes' on the internet.

There's a picture of Steve beside Bucky, one that had to have been picked out of one of the old newsreels, black and white with both of them in uniform. Bucky stares at it for a long time, reads several of the articles that come up, and then he falls into another horrible, tearful breakdown, with Steve sobbing right along beside him.

Steve wonders if he still would have spent all those years wishing Bucky would remember and come back to himself if he'd realized how painful it was going to be.

Wrung out, Steve goes and checks on Tony while Bucky's unconscious again, and finds him angrily working on his suit, which is now a very flashy red and gold. Despite everything and the mood Tony is in, Steve still finds himself smiling.

Only Tony.

Several more nightmares and another liquor store later, Bucky is sitting on a rocky hillside overlooking the California coastline, staring out into Pacific Ocean with haunted eyes. He'd tried - and failed - to drink himself stupid again, and his proximity to the cliff's edge combined with the alcohol in his system is doing nothing for Steve's nerves.

"Stop that." Bucky growls suddenly, grip tightening on the bottle he's holding.

Steve sighs wearily. While Bucky talking to himself isn't necessarily new, it isn't a good sign, either, and most certainly isn't helping Steve's anxiety.

At least it was in English, this time. It's worse when Steve can't understand him.

"This is partially your fault, anyway." Bucky adds, taking a long pull from his bottle and wobbling unsteadily to his feet.

Steve blanches, hoping this means Bucky is preparing to leave rather than throw himself into the ocean he'd been eyeing longingly.

Suddenly Bucky spins and pitches the bottle, which crashes into the rocks right beside Steve and shatters into pieces. Steve jumps, startled, and looks up at Bucky, who is staring in his direction with wide, wild eyes.

"Just leave me the hell alone!" he all but screams, his breaths coming out dangerously close to sobs.

Steve stops, his mouth parting slightly. His ears start ringing, and he realizes his breathing has quickened, nearly matching Bucky's frantic pants.

"I know you're out here, you've always been here, you-" Bucky chokes, hunching over himself, his hands held protectively over his middle.

Steve clenches his fists, willing himself not to cry. No, no it can't be. He'd gotten his hopes up before, Bucky can't see him, he couldn't...

"Bucky?" he whispers despite himself, feeling faint. Please, he doesn't say. His heart couldn't take any more false hope.

"I thought I was imagining it, making it up to, to cope, or -" Bucky swallows. "It happened before, back, back in that place, the first time, with, with Zola." He shudders, then, while the roaring in Steve's ears steadily increases. "But then you came chargin' in, larger than life and wearing that stupid costume, and, and I knew. Didn't matter if you didn't look the same, or how impossible it was for you to be there - I knew it was you, the real you, because I could feel it."

Steve finds himself swaying. Almost seventy years, he thinks, his chest constricting painfully.

"You've been here the whole time." Bucky continues, sucking in a sharp breath. "I can't see you, or hear you, but I can feel you." He lifts his hand - his flesh hand - and fists it on his chest, over his heart. "I can feel you, right here."

The ground rushes up around Steve, the world tilting, and then he realizes he's on his knees.

"Stubborn punk," Bucky adds, his lip quivering. "Only you could take 'til the end of the line' so fucking literally."

Steve feels time disappear, the last few decades melting away to nothing, and suddenly he's standing on the steps to his old apartment, a much taller Bucky smiling down at him with a hand on his shoulder, eyes twinkling.

He thinks of all the things he'd wanted to say to Bucky over the years, thinks of a million other things he wants to say now - but settles on the first thing that comes to mind.

"Well it's about damn time," Steve says, tears pricking his eyes. "It took you long enough, you jerk."

And then he's laughing, and crying, and when he looks up Bucky is, too, only Bucky's sobs are interspaced with "It's okay, Stevie, I'm sorry, it's okay-" and that just sets Steve off even more.

It's been a very long time since anyone has been there to comfort Steve, instead of the other way around.

Eventually they calm down, subsiding into little hiccups instead of the hysterical laughing/crying they'd been doing. They're both lying down on their backs, staring up at the sky like they used to when they were kids. Steve looks over at Bucky, whose face is tired and worn; he looks like he's aged ten years since leaving Tony's, and who can say? Maybe he has - perhaps gaining several decades worth of memories will do that to a person.

Steve feels strung out, but it doesn't feel bad - more like a weight has been lifted. Bucky can't see or hear him, but he finds he doesn't mind; he at least knows Steve is there, and that's enough.

"I'm still pissed at you, you know." Bucky says finally, scrubbing a hand over his face and sitting up, diminishing Steve's mood a little. "I'm so fucking pissed at you, Stevie."

Something warm floods through Steve at being addressed directly, though it's immediately chased by confusion and more than a little indignation once the rest of Bucky's words catch up with him.

Bucky must be able to feel it, too, since he answers before Steve can even ask the question.

"Tony." he says, and there is so much love, and anguish, and devotion, and a thousand other things in that one word that it makes Steve's head spin.

"Tony?" Steve repeats, knowing Bucky will be able to sense the question.

Bucky growls, jumping to his feet. "You're the one who pushed me towards him!" he fumes, stomping a few feet away and then turning back around, glaring furiously at - well, the space about two feet from where Steve actually is, but he'll take it. "I never would have gone looking for him otherwise, never would have met him -" He chokes the last part out, as though even the thought hurts him, and clenches his fists. "How could you?"

Steve is starting to see what the problem - or, at least, what Bucky perceives as the problem - is, and sighs, standing up and moving over to the space Bucky is talking to.

It's been a long time since he's been yelled at, and he wants the full experience before the novelty wears off.

"You keep saying it like meeting Tony was a bad thing." Steve says, projecting as much exasperation as he can. "And I gotta say, after seeing you two together, I don't see how it can be."

Bucky squares his jaw and hunches his shoulders, his eyes angry and haunted. "You know what I've done, what I could have done to him!" he snaps. "I'm not safe! I went into his house with enough weaponry to take out a strike team - I've got his friggin' kitchen knife down my pants right now, for Christ's sake!"

"Tony would probably like to hear that," Steve remarks before he can think better of it, and remembers Bucky can't hear him anyway.

Bucky must still get the gist of it, though, because his face flushes. "I don't understand why you'd want me anywhere near him." he says, looking down at his clenched fists. "I remember some of those stories you used to tell me. I can feel how much you care about him. You love him, too, how could you-"

Bucky freezes, his eyes widening as the realization of what he just said hits him.

"Yeah, I do." Steve says, firmly. "I do love him, too." He makes sure to put as much feeling and emphasis on the word as possible, and watches in satisfaction as Bucky picks up on it and flinches. "But I also love you, Bucky - and running away from him isn't protecting him, and it isn't helping you any, either. You and Tony - You're good for each other. I've never seen Tony like that with anyone else, period, and you...it's not a coincidence you started getting better once you were with him. I had nothing to do with that."

"I murdered his parents," Bucky hisses, angry tears making their way down his face. "And I would have killed him, too, if they'd ordered me to."

Steve feels something cold settle in his stomach at the thought, something he must project because Bucky flinches back, but he shakes it off.

"But you didn't," Steve says softly, reassuring himself as much as Bucky. "And it wasn't your fault, Bucky. Tony will understand that."

Bucky swallows and closes his eyes, dropping his head. "I murdered his parents." he repeats in a small voice. "How do I - I can't, I can't go back and tell him. I can't hurt him like that."

"Being alone hurts you both now, Buck." Steve says gently. "You think you're the only one heartbroken, here?"

Bucky sucks in a sharp breath and hugs himself, everything in his body language screaming misery. He's quiet for a long time, biting his lip, before he mumbles "...has he been eating?"

"Probably not," Steve grumbles, throwing his hands in the air and pushing as much irritability at Bucky as possible. "I doubt he's sleeping, either. Wouldn't be surprised if he's trying to drink as much as you have, too, or something else equally reckless-"

"Okay okay, stop, you're making my head hurt." Bucky says, wincing and throwing a hand out to halt him. "We're both idiots, you're mad at us, I get it."

"Yeah, well, you're my idiots." Steve sniffs.

Bucky rewards him with a watery smile, picking up the grumpy affection, and then sniffles and wipes futilely at his eyes.

"What do I tell him?" Bucky whispers, tugging on the strings of the hoodie he's wearing - Tony's hoodie, which he hasn't taken off since leaving Tony's.

'The truth,' Steve is about to say, but before he can open his mouth there's a searing, screaming pain in his chest, right over his heart, that has him gasping and falling to his knees.

Bucky's head whips up in alarm. "Steve?" he calls sharply. "Steve!"

Tony, Steve thinks, digging his hand into his chest. The last time he'd felt anything close to this had been Afghanistan, when Tony was hurt. This, though, feels much, much worse - like a red-hot poker being stabbed into his chest.

"Something's wrong," he gasps out through gritted teeth. "Something's...something's wrong with Tony."

Bucky has stepped closer now, his eyes wide and fearful. "What's wrong?"

"Tony," Steve hisses, doubled over in agony. "You need to get to Tony, right now."

Bucky sucks in a sharp breath, going from alarmed to terrified in an instant. "What's wrong with Tony? Steve! Is he hurt? What's wrong with Tony?!" he yells, frantic.

"Just get to Tony!" Steve shouts, giving into the pain and letting himself be pulled to Tony. Bucky's panicked face is the last thing he sees before he squeezes his eyes shut.

The pain doesn't stop when Steve gets to Tony. If nothing else it gets worse once he sets eyes on him, lying on the ground in the workshop with Dum-E hovering over him. He looks like death warmed-over, terrifyingly pale, his hands shaking as he puts the arc reactor - a thing Steve is very sure should never, ever be removed, it's keeping Tony alive, what the hell is it doing not there to begin with? - back into his chest.

Steve's brain stutters to a complete halt once he comprehends what he's seeing, and before he can even think about it he yelps a very shrill "What the hell did you take that out for?!"

Tony fumbles with the arc reactor before finally slotting it into place, then blinks, dazed, and slumps against the workbench behind him.

Steve sinks down beside him, shaken, and starts counting Tony's breaths, making sure he's still conscious and not…

He shudders, refusing to finish the thought, and tilts his head back against the workbench.

"You know, when I said you were probably doing something reckless while Bucky was gone, I was being rhetorical, not issuing a challenge." Steve says warily as Tony stirs, blinking himself back to semi-consciousness.

Steve thinks he sees Tony's eyes dart over to where he's sitting, but before they can really focus on anything Rhodey comes busting into the workshop, calling Tony's name, and suddenly it's all business.

Which is how Steve discovers he has once again underestimated just how much trouble Tony Stark can get into when left to his own devices.

Apparently, Obadiah Stane is a crazy, double-dealing scumbag, Pepper Potts is in danger, and there's an attack on Stark Industries - which is Stane's doing.

Steve is shocked to hear about Stane, which is quickly followed by guilt for not noticing anything amiss beforehand. True, he himself had never really liked the man, but never in a million years would he have guessed he'd betray Tony like this - and if it had blindsided Steve, it must have floored Tony. Steve can't imagine how much it must be affecting him. Steve should have known, or at least kept a better eye on him.

While the betrayal has Steve seeing red, though, it is nothing compared to the white-hot, pulsing fury he feels when he finds out Stane - Tony's godfather, his mentor, and man who was supposed to be protecting him - just tried to kill Tony by ripping his arc reactor right out of his chest.

Only one thing allows Steve to calm down: the knowledge that while he may not have a body with which he can effectively strangle Stane, Bucky, fortunately, does - and Steve is going to make very sure he finds out about it.

All in all, the only thing Steve can think of as he watches Tony fly off in the armor to stop Stane is that he is never, ever leaving Tony alone again.

It takes Bucky three hours to get to Malibu - which is two more hours than Steve expected, and three less than it should have taken.

Steve supposes he should be thankful Bucky contented himself with stealing a motorcycle rather than a helicopter.

He doesn't bother with subtlety, just runs through the open and unlocked back door, calling Tony's name.

"I'm afraid he's not here at the moment, sir." JARVIS answers him, and Steve knows he isn't imaging the note of relief in the program's usually stoic tones. "Though I must say, I do believe he will be most pleased to hear of your return."

At the first hint of noise Bucky had drawn his gun, and though he has it lowered by the time JARVIS is done speaking, he still doesn't relax.

"JARVIS, where is he? Is he okay?" Bucky asks, voice trembling. "What happened?"

"Unfortunately I am unable to inform you precisely what transpired, as I was temporarily indisposed for a short period and am still not functioning at full capacity." JARVIS informs him regretfully. "As to your other inquiries, however…"

The television on the far wall clicks on, with full news coverage of the attack on Stark Industries. Bucky jumps, coming very close to shooting it before the headline catches his attention.

"Tony?" he asks anxiously. "Tony is there? I don't understand, what's going on?"

"Yes, Sir is currently at Stark Industries headquarters. There was an...altercation there, which required his attention." JARVIS says.

Bucky frowns, picking up on everything JARVIS isn't saying. "But is he okay?" he demands, narrowing his eyes at the TV. "Is he hurt?"

"Sir is...mostly unharmed." JARVIS replies, and while Steve can see not wanting to lie, he thinks perhaps JARVIS could have worded that a little differently if he'd wanted to reassure Bucky.

"He's alright, Buck." Steve says, taking pity on him and sending as many soothing feelings as he can. It must work, because Bucky slumps in relief, the tension draining out of his neck and shoulders, leaving him looking haggard.

"He should be returning home shortly. Shall I let him know you've returned?" JARVIS suggests mildly, once Bucky has staggered over to the bar to lean against it.

"No!" Bucky cries, then winces, apparently picking up Steve's ire and says, much softer, "No, not...not yet, JARVIS. I'm not staying."

"I see." JARVIS says, summarizing Steve's thoughts on the matter as well. He thinks if JARVIS had a face, he'd be glaring disapprovingly, so Steve does it for him in solidarity, even if Bucky can't see that, either.

"I'm not leaving, either." Bucky adds in irritation, giving the corner Steve is occupying the stink-eye. "At least, not completely. I'll be...I'll be around. I promise." Steve thinks that part is more for him than JARVIS. "I can't...I need to get my head on straight before I can face Tony again. But I promise, I'm not leaving him again. Not," He swallows. "Not unless he wants me to."

There's silence while JARVIS and Steve mull that over, which JARVIS breaks by saying "Going by Sir's behavior as of late, I highly doubt he will, Mr. Bucky."

Bucky blinks and bows his head, fighting to compose himself. Steve can't tell if he's caught out by the raw sentiment in the statement or JARVIS's use of 'Mr. Bucky'.

"Thanks, JARVIS." Bucky says gruffly, and clears his throat. "But, uh, can you do me one more favor, and not tell Tony I was here?"

There's a long pause.

"I'm afraid I may not be able to comply. After your abrupt...departure, Sir tasked me with keeping an eye on your whereabouts. If I found anyone matching your description, I was to alert him immediately. The only reason I haven't already is the slight discrepancy in my programming at present." JARVIS says, sounding contrite.

Bucky's throat bobbed as he swallowed. "He was...looking for me?"

"Most intently, sir. We were quite concerned for your safety. Dum-E, especially, has been asking after you."

Steve takes note of the 'we', and from the mix of emotions on Bucky's face, he does, too.

"Okay, how about this," Bucky says when he can finally bring himself to speak. "Give me twenty-four hours. A whole day where you don't tell him I'm here while I keep an eye on him, and after that you can tell him whatever you want, no matter where I am. Deal?"

There's another pause as JARVIS considers.

"That sounds acceptable." he says finally. "Though only if you promise to remain within Sir's vicinity and look out for him while my security measures are comprised. And I speak not only for Sir, but also the bots and myself, when I say we would all rather prefer it if you would remain here still after the allotted day has passed."

The small, crooked smile Bucky flashes is gone almost as soon as it appears. "If Tony will have me, you have my word." he says, then chuckles and looks around the room, his gaze stopping at the TV. "Besides, look at all the trouble he gets himself into when I'm not around. No, I'm not letting him out of my sight."

"Quite," JARVIS agrees, sounding much more world-weary than Steve thinks any person - let alone a digital person - should.

Bucky remains on the property all evening, mostly prowling the perimeter and aiming his gun at anything that so much as twitches wrong, though he does stop in and say hi to the bots before Tony comes home.

Dum-E is very excited to see him, and tries to give him three screwdrivers, a hat, and a smoothie made of lettuce and motor oil. Bucky accepts everything - including the smoothie, though he casually dumps it down the sink when Dum-E isn't paying attention, and quietly asks U to hide the blender until he can clean it. They beep pitifully when Bucky starts to leave the workshop, and Dum-E doesn't stop clinging to the end of his shirt until JARVIS tells the bot off and Bucky promises he'll come back.

Bucky stays outside once Tony comes home with Pepper and Rhodey in tow, but Steve doesn't miss the long, relieved sigh that escapes him once he sets eyes on Tony, nor the way the set of his shoulders relax.

Bucky doesn't sleep at all that night, but Steve still thinks he looks more rested than he had the entire time he'd been gone.

"I am Iron Man."

Steve is at Tony's side as those soon-to-be famous words are uttered, grinning like a loon while all hell breaks loose amongst the assembled press. He can see the various expressions of aggravation, embarrassment, and wariness on the faces of Tony's entourage when he glances over at them, and sees the very minute way Tony's face falls when he notices them, too.

Steve squares his jaw and leans in towards Tony; if there's one thing Bucky as taught him over the last few days, it's that his words don't have to be heard so much as felt.

"Good job," he murmurs in Tony's ear, as Pepper and the bland Agent Coulson try to usher him away from the microphone. If they won't say it, he will. "I'm proud of you."

Tony smiles to himself, a private thing, sending a wave of warmth through Steve.

He remembers what it was like to wake up one day as everyone's hero just by trying to do the right thing. Tony has already stormed his own HYDRA base and marched back in triumph - he'll be just fine.

Bucky must be thinking something similar. When Steve concentrates, he can hear him mutter "Oh fuck, not this again." from his post at the back of the room.

Steve grins sheepishly and sends a wave of fondness over to him. He can't see Bucky's face, but he does see his shoulders shaking, and knows it's in laughter.

When Bucky sneaks into Tony's house that night, there's a tall, bald man with an eyepatch already there. Without any fanfare Bucky finds an optimal position and trains his gun on him, but doesn't shoot him on sight like Steve expected.

"I know who he is - he's the director of SHIELD." Bucky murmurs, barely audible, and Steve doesn't know if it's for his benefit or JARVIS's. His mouth is in a terse, unhappy line, and his eyes glitter dangerously as his finger flexes on the trigger.

Before Bucky can elaborate further Tony comes in, looking exhausted, and Fury steps forward and starts speaking to him, telling him about something called the 'Avenger Initiative'.

Tony blows him off as only Tony can, and while Steve thinks the genius has everything well in hand, Bucky's aim stays directly on Fury until he leaves.

"Remind me to do something about those security loopholes people keep finding, J." Tony grumbles, rubbing a hand over his face and pouring himself a drink.

"I'd start with the giant hole in the ceiling." Bucky says, stepping out into the living room and startling Tony into dropping his glass. "It's real easy to rappel down, if you put your mind to it."

He's speaking with forced casualness, his hands shoved into his pockets so Tony can't see them shaking. Tony's mouth drops open in shock, his eyes raking over Bucky and taking him in, but he doesn't move, and neither does Bucky.

For a long, agonizing second they stay like that, staring at each other, frozen.

Steve doesn't know who moves first. All he knows is between one breath and the next they're together, arms clinging and wrapped around each other in a tight embrace, faces tucked into each other's necks.

Tony is the first to speak.

"Where the hell have you been?!" he yells, his voice muffled by Bucky's shoulder, hands clenched in the fabric on Bucky's back.

Bucky, unwilling to pull away, grips Tony impossibly tighter, a hand coming up to cup the back of his head.

Tony positively melts into the touch, but pulls his head back to glare directly at Bucky's face.

"You don't write, you don't call…" he says, his eyes suspiciously wet.

Bucky sucks in a shuddering breath, his own eyes tearing up, and presses his forehead to Tony's.

"You never gave me your number," he whispers, brushing a thumb over Tony's lower lip and startling a tiny chortle out of Tony.

Bucky makes a small sound like a sob, and then presses his mouth to Tony's, swallowing up any other noise Tony can make while Tony tangles his fingers into Bucky's hair, pulling them even closer.

Steve quickly turns away to give them some privacy, his face flaming even as something warm that has nothing to do with embarrassment unfurls in his chest. He doesn't turn back around until he hears Bucky laughing.

"What?" Tony gasps incredulously, blinking dazedly with his arms still wrapped around Bucky.

"Nothin'," Bucky says, framing Tony's face with his hands, eyes sparkling.

When Steve realizes he's probably what Bucky is laughing at he scowls, and Bucky starts chuckling again.

"Shut up," Tony grumbles, dropping his forehead to Bucky's shoulder. "You can try to charm me with your wiles all you want, I'm still mad at you."

That sobers Bucky up a bit. "I'm sorry." he whispers, running his hand up and down Tony's back and pressing a kiss to Tony's hair.

"You just left," Tony says angrily, pulling back enough to pierce Bucky with an expression filled with hurt. "No goodbye, no note, nothing. You could have been dead in a ditch somewhere, for all I knew!"

"I know," Bucky sighs, biting his lip, then scowls and holds Tony back at arm's length, though Steve notes he doesn't let go of him completely. "But you're one to talk. What the hell were you thinking? Were you trying to get yourself killed while I was gone?" he demands.

"I wore the helmet!" Tony protests indignantly. "Most of the time." he amends, earning an incredulous look from Bucky. "But that's not the point - I was the one who was attacked, and then I was defending the weak! What was I supposed to do, let Obie kill Pep and everyone - what is that look for, I don't like that look, are you laughing at me?"

Bucky had looked stern and exasperated when Tony had first started talking, but now he was wearing an expression somewhere between amused and constipated. His lips twitch under Tony's scrutiny, and Steve can't help but think the face seems very familiar, almost like a precursor to The Look.

Before Tony can get well and truly insulted Bucky sighs and pulls him into another hug, resting his chin atop Tony's head.

"Nothing, just...you remind me of some other stubborn punk too stupid to run away from the fight." he says fondly, to Steve's embarrassment and - okay, maybe pride, but only a little.

Tony stiffens and pushes against Bucky's chest, looking well on his way to giving him a piece of his mind when Bucky sighs again and lets him go, schooling his face into something serious.

"We have a lot to talk about." he says, gently but firmly. "Starting with SHIELD. Trusting them is a very, very bad idea. They're not who they say they are, not completely."

Tony blinks and fidgets, seeming oddly bereft now that he wasn't touching Bucky. "Yeah, I guess we do." he says carefully, brushing a hand through his hair and giving Bucky a grim nod. "I'm all ears, Brooklyn. Lay it on me."

Bucky smiles thinly. "It all sounds crazy. I don't know if you'll believe me. I don't believe half of it, and it happened to me."

Tony shrugs, and gives him the ghost of a grin. "I already think you're crazy, sweetheart. Hasn't stopped me yet."

Bucky chuckles self-deprecatingly. "You're going to want to sit down for some of this," he says, swallowing.

Tony reaches out and takes his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and nods.

Bucky takes a deep breath. "My name is James Buchanan Barnes, and I was born in…"

Bucky tells Tony everything.

It takes hours, and Tony, to his credit, only interrupts when he wants Bucky to clarify something - and once to mutter a quick "Oh thank God, not my brother, then," which had earned a very strange look from Bucky.

Bucky looks exhausted by the time he's finished, slumped forward with his head in his hands, though Steve knows at least half of it is fear. Tony's face is carefully blank while he quietly processes, which is setting Bucky off even more. They'd moved to the workshop couch about halfway through, and though there's barely three inches of space between them they're not touching.

"That's a lot to take in," Tony acknowledges finally, exhaling loudly.

"I know." Bucky concedes, lifting his head from his hands and watching Tony out of the corner of his eye, like he's afraid to look at him directly.

"And it does sound crazy," Tony admits, tapping his arc reactor, a nervous habit Steve has noticed he's developed.

Bucky nods jerkily. "I told you it would be." he says, voice cracking. He's terrified, and since he's still not looking at Tony he doesn't see Tony's face soften, the expression carrying so many emotions that it takes Steve's breath away.

And he knows, before Tony even speaks, that Bucky's fears are unfounded.

"But I think we can handle it together." Tony says softly, reaching out and taking Bucky's hand in his, lacing their fingers together.

Bucky stops breathing, his lower lip trembling slightly as he slowly turns to face Tony. Steve can see the hope blooming in his eyes, his fear of being rejected slowly dissipating under the warmth of Tony's gaze.

"Yeah?" he breathes, squeezing Tony's hand back, a small, uncertain smile gracing his lips.

"Yeah," Tony assures, one corner of his mouth quirking up before his expression turns more serious. "I don't believe in fate, or a higher power, or whatever people call it." he says, waving his free hand. "But someone or something went to a lot of trouble to make sure we met, and you…" He takes a deep breath and swallows, looking down at their clasped hands. "I feel like I've known you my whole life." he whispers, open and vulnerable, reminding Steve of the kind, insecure little boy that used to draw him pictures and demand stories.

Bucky sighs, a long, relieved thing that seems to expel the rest of his doubt, and tugs Tony closer, pressing their foreheads together.

"You and me both, kid." he murmurs against Tony's mouth. "You and me both."

Steve swallows down a lump in his throat as something tight and heavy loosens in his chest, the warmth that had been threatening to overwhelm him since Bucky and Tony's reunion spreading and making his limbs feel heavier, but in a pleasant way.

He gasps once he recognizes the sensation, and realizes he feels sleepy - not tired, but truly sleepy - for the first time in decades. After years of restlessness the feeling is almost overwhelming, but that doesn't stop Steve from reveling in it, letting it wash over him like a warm, comfortable blanket.

He looks over at Bucky and Tony, wrapped up in each other, safe and sound and - most importantly to Steve - happy.

They had each other. They would be fine.

His work was done for now - surely it would be okay for him to rest for a little while.

So he smiles, and, feeling peaceful for the first time in nearly seventy years, Steve Rogers closes his eyes and rests.

AN: Don't forget to check out the link to the awesome art that went with this story on my profile. :)

Thanks for reading!