One of the few things that Bucky actually knew about himself was his name. Actually, that was the only thing that he really knew, and even that could potentially be wrong. But it felt like it had to be the right name, and it seemed unique enough that he didn't think someone would be able to mistake it for something else, so he decided to settle on the idea that at least for now, his name was Bucky.

Actually, there was one thing that Bucky knew for sure. He knew that if he stopped running as fast as he possibly could, he was going to wind up dead before the end of the night. And he while he was almost certain that it would be a quick death, most likely just a bullet to the head, Bucky wanted to live long enough to learn more about himself, and he wouldn't be able to do that if he were killed off now.

Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be any glimmering rays of hope anywhere nearby, and Bucky's eyes widened slightly as he realized that he'd just turned down into a dead end alley. Perhaps he didn't even deserve to live if he wasn't even smart enough to be able to escape from his pursuers.

The footsteps behind him, along with the whispered exclamations, were only growing louder as the people chasing Bucky got closer. Any second now they would turn down the alley, and pump Bucky full of bullets before he had the chance to even try and defend himself. He quickly looked around, but he couldn't see any way to get himself out of this situation. It was hard to believe that this could really be the end for him when the beginning had only been two days ago. Bucky didn't want to accept that his story was really just that short.

The best that Bucky could do at this point was brace himself for a fight, and hope that he'd be able to take down at least a couple of his killers before they had the chance to take down him. He got into a pose that would allow him to strike his opponents as quickly as possible, and then he held his breath as he waited for the confrontation to begin.

Before his enemies could actually turn down the alley, a door on one of the surrounding buildings swung open, and a young man stepped outside, lugging two bulging trash bags. The man seemed surprised to see Bucky there, which was only fair, since Bucky was equally surprised to see the strange man. Not that there was anything particularly strange looking about the man; he had soft looking brown hair that stuck up in little spikes, big and warm brown eyes, olive skin, and full, pouty lips. As Bucky looked closer, he had to wonder whether it even was a young man, or if the stranger was actually a teenager.

This wasn't really the time to be thinking about such things, though, because Bucky's life was on the line at the moment, and if the boy was still standing around when Bucky's pursuers showed up, he would probably be just another nameless casualty that none of the killers would be bothered by. They never seemed to have any issue with killing innocent people, which was one of the reasons Bucky had realized that he'd needed to get away from them.

Even though he knew that he was normally better at masking his emotions, some of the urgency and panic that he was feeling must've bled through in a more obvious way, because the boy dropped his garbage bags, letting them tumble to the ground, accompanied by some loud noises. "Is everything okay?"

He hadn't even thought to consider it, but now that he'd heard the boy's voice, Bucky couldn't help thinking that he'd somehow just encountered an actual angel. The boy was certainly pretty enough to qualify to be one, and his voice sounded like home, and warmth, and like every other noise that Bucky had come to associate with pleasant feelings in the past two days. It would be a terrible shame to let the boy be harmed simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. "Go back inside," he said gruffly.

Instead of scaring the boy away, that only seemed to fill him with a sense of determination, as he inched closer to where Bucky was standing. He reached out very slowly, like he wanted to pet a stray cat without getting himself bitten or scratched, though he hesitated when his hand was about an inch away from Bucky's metal one. "Is that- can I- do you-?" He seemed to have so many questions that they were all trying to exit his mouth at the same time, but strangely enough, he didn't look at all scared or freaked out. In fact, if what little Bucky knew about human emotions was accurate, then he'd say that the kid looked curious and amazed at the same time. "Are you doing anything important right now? I mean, you're just kind of bumming around in a back alley, so I feel like it's safe to assume that you're not, but then again, I guess some people could have important business in back allies. Like maybe drug dealers? Except I think that in real life they don't try to act so shady, because that would make it really easy to get caught. Don't worry, I don't think that you look like a drug dealer anyways, so it's okay."

The footsteps of Bucky's pursuers were getting closer, and the kid didn't seem to be showing any signs of slowing down in his rambling. Apparently he had two settings: stop and go. Bucky had enough problems on his plate, and he didn't want to be the reason for this random stranger being killed, so he shoved the kid back through the still open door, but before he could step back out into the alley, the kid suddenly reached out to snatch Bucky's metal arm, and tug him into the building as well.

Rather than arguing, Bucky decided to accept this second chance at life, and he quickly closed and locked the door behind him. He spoke in a rough whisper, not sure if the sound from in here would leak outside at all. "Do you-?"

The kid didn't even give him a chance to ask any of his own questions before he was rolling up Bucky's sleeve, and staring at the metal arm with wide eyes. "This is so awesome. Who designed it? Have you ever had any problems with the pressure levels? How far up does it go? How is the base secured to your body? Because this is some pretty heavy material to be working with, and it looks like it should cause a decent amount of strain, even on someone who's very strong. I wonder why they made it so heavy? It's clearly not just for looks, and must have some function beyond just being an arm. Do you mind it I…" the kid trailed off, and a frown crossed his face for the first time. "I'm sorry. I just realized that I totally just kidnapped you and then started barraging you with questions you might not want to answer. I'm really sorry about that." He reached up to scratch awkwardly at the back of his neck, and then he held out his other hand. "I'm Tony, and I didn't mean to mess up your night."

Somehow, Bucky got the feeling that even if he were to suddenly remember an entire lifetime worth of memories, he didn't think he'd be able to recall ever meeting anyone quite like this Tony. But more importantly at the moment, Tony didn't seem to be any kind of threat, and Bucky was grateful for a semi-safe space to catch his bearings in. "Bucky," he grunted, though he didn't accept the handshake.

Tony didn't seem bothered by the rudeness, and he just grinned. "Alright, so I know that we're basically complete strangers, but would it be alright to ask you for a favor? I really, really want to be able to study your arm more, if that's okay with you. I think it's very fascinating, and I also get the feeling that I could probably help give you something that's lighter but just as functional so that you could be more comfortable. I don't exactly have the best set up for this kind of stuff at the moment, but it shouldn't be too hard to get access to one of the labs. If you come back here tomorrow, or anytime that's convenient for you, I guess, and not like here specifically, but in the lobby, and ask for-"

There was no point in trying to think so far ahead. Bucky quickly analyzed the situation, and came to the conclusion that the easiest way to get out of here would be to do so now, before the people outside got a chance to figure out which building he had disappeared into. He had already decided that Tony wasn't a threat, and that he'd be able to easily overpower the kid if it came down to that. And Tony had just offered to make his arm more efficient, and if he was really able to do that, then it would certainly be helpful. "Why wait?"

Tony paused for a moment, but he didn't seem bothered to be interrupted in the middle of the sentence. Maybe he just rambled on so often that he was used to other people cutting him off when they had something to say. It took a moment for Bucky's question to sink in, but then Tony's eyes widened, and a brilliant grin lit up his face. "Even better! Everyone other than security should be gone by now, so there won't be anyone to yell at me for using the labs." Then he grabbed Bucky's arm, and began pulling him down several narrow hallways, and then into an elevator.

While they rode up, Bucky glanced at Tony's outfit, and considered the circumstances under which they'd just met. "What would a janitor know about prosthetic arms?"

Tony slumped back against the elevator wall, and let out a tired sigh. "It's kind of a complicated story. This current job of mine is basically a punishment. It's supposed to teach me responsibility, or some bullshit like that. My old man's just annoyed with me because I accidentally blew up our kitchen at home. But in my defense, if my plans had worked, then it would've been epic."

Bucky just grunted in response, and wondered how much better off he was with this kid versus the people he'd run from two days ago. But it didn't take a genius to realize which was the better option. Whoever Tony was, he seemed interested only in helping Bucky, and getting the chance to look closer at his arm, while the others expected Bucky to kill people on command for them. The only thing that Bucky regretted was the fact that he hadn't grabbed a gun before running off, because that would probably make his whole life a lot easier. And he knew that if his pursuers did get into the building, then Bucky would be obligated to protect Tony, even if Tony had technically dragged him in here.

There was a soft ding as the elevator reached the floor Tony wanted, and then the kid brought Bucky down another couple of hallways, until they got into a cluttered looking room. There were tables everywhere that were all covered in various metal parts, and large sheets of paper with strange designs sketched out on them taking up almost all of the available wall space.

Tony walked over to one of the tables, and shoved everything aside, not seeming to care when screws and wires and other bits fell to the floor. He motioned towards the spinny chair right next to the table, and Bucky sat down. "Great! Just lay your arm out on the table, and adjust the chair if it's too high or low for you to be comfy. I'm just going to…" he hurried away, and returned a few seconds later with a small pouch, and when he unzipped it, there were a bunch of very tiny tools inside. "Normally I'd get one of the machines to do the precision work, but they're offline at this hour, and I don't want to cause any trouble by turning them back on. But you don't have to worry about a thing, because I have very steady hands."

The next couple of hours passed in almost complete silence, only broken by Tony's occasional mumbling to himself, and asking for permission to do all kinds of things to the arm. Bucky didn't understand half of the things Tony asked for, but he agreed to them anyways. It was actually really fascinating to see the look of intense concentration on Tony's face. And the way his tongue poked out of his mouth just a tiny bit made Bucky think of a cat that he might've seen before.

It wasn't until the door to the lab swung open and someone walked inside that it occurred to Bucky just how long he'd been sitting there. He glanced over, and surprisingly enough, the person who'd walked in was looking over at Tony with a small, but fond, smile. "Weren't you specifically told not to come back here until you're allowed to stop playing custodian?"

Tony actually jumped, because somehow the fact that an entire other human being had entered the room had managed to completely escape his attention while he was caught up in his work. But clearly Tony recognized the woman who'd walked in, because his shoulders relaxed, and he returned her smile. "Yeah, I was. But how could I miss out on an opportunity to work with this beauty?" For a moment, Bucky wondered if he was supposed to return the compliment, until he realized that Tony was talking about his arm, and not about him in general.

The woman snorted, and then walked around the table so that she could look Bucky in the eyes without him having to awkwardly crane his neck. "It's nice to meet you. Anyone that can manage to hold Tony's attention for this long must be someone truly fascinating." She peered closer at the partially disassembled arm. "I'll admit, whatever's going on there does look pretty neat." Then she gave Tony a quick hug before stepping away. "Howard's coming in for inspection and presentations today, so you should probably get out of here soon."

Bucky wasn't sure who this Howard guy was, but he instantly noticed the way that Tony's smile shrank into something much more fake looking, and all of his muscles seemed to suddenly stiffen. "Sure thing. Thanks Betty. We'll be out of your hair in a couple of minutes, I promise." He shifted through his pile of tools, and went back to work, taking much less time to put the arm back together than he had to take it apart.

When he was done, he stood back, and Bucky finally stood up. He flexed his arm a few times, and was pleasantly surprised to find that all of the joints seemed to move much more smoothly. "How did you do that?"

Tony shrugged, like it was no big deal to have just improved upon such expensive technology. "Just tightened a few things up here and there. I was serious earlier, though. I really could probably make you something that's lighter. The less strain there is on your flesh body, the better." He patted around his pockets for a moment before frowning. "Guess I don't have any cards on me. But-" he snatched a pen up and grabbed Bucky's normal hand. "Here's my number. Call me if you're interested in a better arm." Then he dragged Bucky out of the lab, and they took the elevator back down to the lobby. They both stood there awkwardly for a moment, and then Tony stretched his arms up over his head to yawn. "Man, I really do need to get some sleep. Or some caffeine. Either is sufficient. So I'll see you around, okay?" Then he hurried off, leaving Bucky on his own.

Half-suspecting that the whole night had just been some very bizarre dream, Bucky headed out, and began walking back to the abandoned building he'd set up house in. Everything about his encounter with Tony had been just so strange, but Bucky already knew that he was going to memorize that number before washing his hand off, despite the fact that he certainly wasn't ever going to see Tony again.

,,,

It took a few days for Bucky to realize that he had absolutely no idea where to even begin with living an ordinary life. For one thing, he had no idea what an ordinary life was even supposed to look like. And for another thing, he had no paperwork, real or otherwise, that proved he even existed, which meant that it was impossible to find any kind of employment.

That's when he decided that maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to call up Tony after all. He had a very limited amount of money left from what he'd stolen before running away a week ago, and almost all of it had been spent on food, but he did have enough left to use a payphone.

He dialed the number, and hoped that it hadn't remembered it wrong. When it just kept ringing, Bucky nodded once to himself, and began thinking of the ways he could find a job and survive. The only thing he could think of that he was skilled at was assassinations, though, and he didn't want to get back into that line of business, even if it was under his own free will this time.

A moment later, he heard Tony's familiar voice, made only slightly tinny through the phone. "Hello?" He sounded tired and wary, but that could've just been because he didn't know who was calling him.

Bucky couldn't stop himself from smiling a little bit, though he was glad that there was no one else around to see the show of emotion. "You said to call if I'm interested in getting an upgrade to my arm?"

There was a moment of silence, and then Tony responded in a much more chipper tone. "Bucky! I didn't think you were ever going to actually call me! This is great! When do you want to start work? Maybe we could go for coffee while we discuss what exactly I can do for you? Hang on, just stay right where you are. It'll probably be easier if I just come to you instead of making you track me down when I'm not at the office, which you presumably do know where to get to. Or I guess we could meet at the office because we both know where that is without having to hack- without having to look it up. I can just-"

"Tony." Bucky didn't even yell, but just saying the kid's name seemed to be enough to get him to be quiet for a moment. "Just tell me wherever you're most comfortable meeting up."

There was another pause, and then Tony let out a soft sigh. "I'm not exactly feeling up to driving right now," he admitted. "Alright. I'm going to give you my address, and trust that you're not going to go around giving it out to whoever the hell you feel like, okay?"

Bucky couldn't think of any particular reason why he'd be giving out someone's address to other random strangers, but he thought it would be easier to just agree and go along with it. He asked Tony to repeat the address as he memorized it, and then said that he'd probably be there in a couple of hours. Then he hung up, and wondered how to even begin figuring out which direction to start heading in. He could just take a taxi, but if the address was far away, then it could use up more money than Bucky had on him, and he didn't want to be that asshole.

In the end, he found a nearby library so that he could use one of the computers to look up the address. It would be an almost three hour walk from where he was, and Bucky had to resist the urge to groan in annoyance. While he was physically in perfect condition to be able to walk around for a long period of time, that didn't mean that he wanted to. He searched local cab rates, and came to the conclusion that he had just enough cash to get a ride to Tony. Hopefully he'd find a way to obtain more money soon.

It wasn't until they were pulling up in front of a huge house with a large gate surrounding it that Bucky realized he was in way over his head. Tony hadn't mentioned anything about money, but surely he wasn't expecting to work on Bucky's arm for free? And if Tony could live in a place like this, why did he have to be a janitor at all, even if it was to build responsibility.

But Bucky figured that it was too late to turn back now, since he literally didn't have enough money to hop into the cab and go back to his hideout. He straightened his shoulders, took a deep breath, and then pressed the little buzzer located next to the front gate. A posh voice that sounded like it belonged to an older man answered. "Who is this?"

Bucky gulped, but reminded himself that he had faced off against much scarier things before than a couple of rich people. A couple of apparently very very rich people. "Bucky. Tony gave me the address-"

There was a click, and the gate unlatched a moment later. "Yes, I believe that he is expecting you. Please make your way up to the main entrance." And then the buzzer went silent.

Bucky walked all the way up to the front doors of the house, and it took him over ten minutes. Not only were these people rich, but they were also crazy. Either that, or they enjoyed having all of their guests panting for breath. Luckily, Bucky wasn't winded by such an easy walk, but he knew that there were plenty of other people who would be.

When he reached the front doors, he raised one hand to knock, but it swung open a moment before he could, revealing an older man wearing a neatly pressed suit. The man offered a polite smile, and stepped back so that Bucky would be able to enter the house. Though as he walked inside, he couldn't help thinking that this place didn't look like a house so much as a museum or something.

The old man closed the door once Bucky was all the way in the fancy entrance hall, and then bowed his head once in greeting. "I am Jarvis. If you need anything at all, just let me know, and I will be happy to assist you. Tony is in his room right now, so if you'll follow me, I'll bring you to him."

Since Bucky wasn't really sure what to say about any of this, he just nodded once, and followed the butler up the stairs, and down a long hallway. Jarvis stopped, and pointed out one of the millions of doors that lined that hallway. "Thanks," Bucky remembered to say before the old man was too far out of hearing range.

Once the man was gone, Bucky turned back to the door, and knocked gently against it with his flesh hand. He heard a muffled voice from inside, though he couldn't make out the specific words. There was the sound of something heavy thudding against the ground, and then the door swung open.

Tony stood there, face flushed red, and his grin faded slightly as he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Bucky? I thought you said it would take a couple hours for you to get here? And why didn't Jarvis warn me you were coming?" The second question seemed to be mostly mumbled towards himself.

Bucky found it difficult to pay too much attention to Tony's words, though, because he was much more interested in staring at Tony's face. More specifically, the two giant bruises that definitely hadn't been there the last time Bucky had seen Tony. One of them was an ugly purple and sickly yellow around his left eye, and the other was the dark red of a fresh mark on his right cheek.

After a moment, Tony seemed to realize what Bucky was staring at, and he frowned and ducked his head down as he turned back into his room. But he didn't slam the door shut first, so Bucky took that as an indication that it was still okay for him to go inside. He wasn't sure exactly what he'd been expecting Tony's room to look like, but somehow it wasn't this. The place looked totally trashed, as though someone had gone through and purposely knocked over and destroyed as much as possible. And there didn't seem to be a single sign of any of the tools or spare parts of blueprints that had covered the lab back in the office building they'd been in last time. But it wasn't really Bucky's place to comment on the state of Tony's room, so he decided not to say anything. But he couldn't just not say anything about the bruises. He already wanted Tony to do free work for him, and Tony had probably saved his life the other night, so the least Bucky could do in return was worry about the kid.

"What happened?"
He didn't even need to point to the bruises for Tony to understand exactly what he was talking about. Tony slumped down onto his mattress, which was ridiculously rumpled up and looked like it was going to slide off of the bedframe any moment. "Accident in the lab," he muttered. "You know how it is."

Bucky frowned, and crouched down in front of Tony so that he could peer up and meet the kid's eyes. "An accident shaped like a human hand?"

Tony shrugged. He was silent for what felt like hours before he responded with, "Shit happens." Then he hopped back up to his feet, and began pacing back and forth in his room. As he did that, it was obvious that there was something a bit off about the movement. Bucky had seen his fair share of injuries before, and he suspected bruised ribs. "Who did this to you?" He made sure to keep his voice as calm and non-confrontational as possible.

Tony didn't seem very interested in having a conversation about it, though, and he just snatched a pen from the top of his dresser. "Alright, so I've been thinking about how to maintain all the current function of your arm while also making something much lighter and less straining on you-"

Bucky slowly stood up, and reached out to gently grab Tony's hand that wasn't holding a writing utensil. Tony winced, like he was expecting harsh words and a too tight grip. "I don't have any money to pay you for your work." Tony's shoulders slumped down in relief at the statement.

"That's alright. I wasn't really doing this for the money. I thought that it would be a fun challenge, and would give me a chance to help someone out, which I don't get to do very often. I'm sure you've already guessed just from seeing my house, but money is not something that I'm very concerned with." He moved to walk away, but Bucky refused to release him.

He made sure to keep his hand loose enough that it wouldn't cause any pain at all, while also stopping Tony from just bolting away. "It's a matter of pride," he tried to explain. "I cannot accept something from you without being able to repay it. Since I don't have money, there has to be another way that I can repay you."

For a moment, Tony's face was completely blank. But then he suddenly grinned, and waggled his eyebrows. "Is this a more advanced version of the pizza delivery guy kink? Because I have to say that I could really work with this."

Bucky had no idea what Tony was talking about, but he knew that he had to say something before the kid got too carried away in his own thoughts. "I'm saying that if you're going to help me, then I want to be able to help you in exchange. Tell me who hurt you, and I'll make sure that they can never do it again." It wasn't just about equality, though. Despite the fact that they barely even knew each other, the thought of someone intentionally hurting this kid made Bucky very angry. Tony was over hyper, and prone to rambling on about complete nonsense, and he wanted to help out a complete stranger for no better reason than to help, and he was just adorable. Someone hurting him was like someone kicking a defenseless pet.

At Bucky's declaration, Tony let out a wheezing gasp, as if someone had just punched him right in the stomach. He yanked his hand away from Bucky, who quickly let go in order to avoid causing any harm. Tony took a few steps back, and then put his hands on his hips while he regained the breath that he'd lost. "Look, I don't want to sound like an asshole, which is actually kinda strange because I almost always sound like an asshole, but it's really none of your goddamn business. I'm willing to help you out, free of charge. I don't want anything from you. I don't need your help, or your protection, or whatever else it is that you think you can do."

Why couldn't Tony understand that Bucky just wanted to help? And he didn't want to do it for the stupid arm, he wanted to do it because he didn't like to think of Tony being hurt by anyone. But clearly Tony was stubborn, and he wasn't going to give in. At least not right now. Bucky sighed, but then nodded once. "I understand. So what do you need to do to work on the arm?"

With the subject being switched to a more neutral and comfortable topic, like mechanics, Tony's smile returned, and he began going on about all kinds of strange things that Bucky didn't understand. After a while, he grabbed a tape measure, and wrapped it around every single section of Bucky's arm, all the while musing about various measurements and numbers for the new one.

A little while passed before there was a polite knock on the door, and Tony walked over to open it. Jarvis stood there, a fond little smile on his face. Bucky was starting to understand why everyone looked at Tony like that. The kid was something unique, and someone who deserved to be cared about and protected. "Lunch is ready when you are. Though I must warn you that your father is home." There was an unhappy frown on the butler's face as he said that part.

Tony gave a resigned sigh, then nodded once. "Thanks, J. You're the best." Then he headed over to the door that Bucky had assumed was a closet, and walked through it. When Bucky peered after him, he saw that it was actually the entrance to a private bathroom. He was going to leave to give Tony his privacy, but then he realized that Tony wasn't in there to use the toilet. He was grabbing a couple of small jars off of a shelf, and then smearing gunk on his face. When he turned away from the mirror a minute later, it was impossible to tell that there were bruises on him if Bucky hadn't already seen them. Which meant that if Bucky really had walked here, he would've had no idea that Tony had been hurt by someday. It wasn't right, and Bucky didn't understand why Tony would try to hide it. Was he ashamed? Did he think that it made him weak?

He resisted the urge to ask, though, and instead silently followed Tony downstairs, through the maze of a house, and into a large dining room that looked like something straight out of a Victorian era film. Not that Bucky was sure of how he knew such a thing, since he couldn't recall ever seeing any movies.

Tony sat down at a random seat near the center of the long table, and motioned for Bucky to sit down next to him. When they were both seat, Bucky leaned over to whisper quietly to Tony. "Thank you for all of your help."

Tony's face flushed pink, and he looked down at his lap. "It's what anyone would do," he said dismissively.

"No it isn't," Bucky insisted. "You're just a good person. Better than anyone else I can remember meeting. You don't deserve to be hurt. You deserve lots better than that. Please just tell me who did it so that I can make them regret it."

Tony's head jerked up so that he could look at Bucky with surprise. "Was that a hint of Brooklyn accent that I just heard? Because I'm not going to lie, that sounded pretty sexy."

On the one hand, Bucky wasn't even sure what to think about the obvious flirtation, especially considering just how young Tony had to be. And on the other hand, he was irritated about the attempt at a diversion in the conversation. "I just want to help you," he grumped.

Tony sighed in defeat, and looked away so that he wasn't meeting Bucky's eyes anymore. "It's really complicated," he said softly. "I wouldn't even know where to begin explaining things. And why do you care so much anyways? We don't even know each other."

Bucky shrugged. "I don't know. There's just something about you that seems important. Maybe I could-"

Bucky never got the chance to suggest what he could do, because an older man walked into the room, looking much like an older version of Tony, and the man's eyes widened in surprise. "You! What the hell are you doing here, in my house? Tony, get away from him!" he barked.

Tony looked back and forth between the man who had to be his father, and Bucky. "What are you talking about?" Bucky was equally confused about the situation, but he was pretty sure that talking it out wasn't going to be helpful. Though Tony hadn't gotten that impression from the situation yet, if the way he kept talking was any indication. "Dad, this is just a friend of mine. I promised that I was going to do some cool repairs to his arm, but I won't do them here. Even I'm not that stupid." He offered a childish grin, though it was obviously strained and unreal.

Tony's father seemed to basically ignore Tony as he stared at Bucky. "What are you doing here?" he asked again.

Bucky slowly stood up, noticing the way that Tony's father took a small step back. "I can see that I'm unwelcome here. I'll just be on my way."

Tony jumped up. "Don't be ridiculous!" He looked across the table to glare at his father. "You can't just-"

"Listen to me when I tell you to do something, dammit!" The way that Tony flinched back at the sound of his dad's raised voice seemed pretty telling. Had Tony put on the makeup so that his dad wouldn't feel as guilty about hitting him? It was sickening to even consider, but based on the way Jarvis had also seemed displeased at the thought of Tony's dad being around, Bucky couldn't help thinking that he was right.

He glanced back at Tony and gave him a smile. It was probably the first real smile he'd ever given anyone, at least as far as he could remember. "Let me handle this," he said softly.

But he wasn't able to handle anything, because Tony's dad began speaking in Russian, and the world around Bucky seemed to suddenly be moving in slow motion. Everything seemed like a giant blur, and he could hear Tony's voice, higher pitched than usual as he shouted out in concern. No, it wasn't just concern. It was actual fear. It was nice to think that there was at least one person in the world who was worried about Bucky. And then a moment after he had that thought, everything went black.

,,,

The next time Bucky opened his eyes and knew that his name was Bucky, he was staring at a familiar blonde man, with just as many muscles as him, and just as much to prove. The man was shouting something about friendship, but all Bucky could think about was Tony's scared voice, and he desperately hoped that the kid was alright, even though Bucky hadn't been there to protect him.

,,,

It seemed like a dream at first, when Bucky slowly opened his eyes, and still knew who he was. He was lying in a hospital bed, and there was a vaguely annoying beeping noise somewhere in the background. Bucky soon realized that there was a fairly heavy weight on his stomach, and he looked down to see a head of blonde hair resting on top of him, apparently soothed by the rising and falling motions as Bucky breathed.

Bucky didn't want to wake the man up when he looked to be so peaceful, but he was aware of the fact that he needed to relieve himself, and the man was resting in just the wrong spot, putting too much pressure on Bucky's bladder. He moved to sit up, and the man woke abruptly.

He looked at Bucky with wide blue eyes that were full of hope and fear in equal measure. "Bucky," he said quietly, even though Bucky had assumed that the man was the sort to be loud all the time. "It's good to see that you're awake. You're looking well."

"You too, Stevie." Even as the name slipped out of his mouth, Bucky's eyes widened as he was suddenly hit with a memory of a smaller version of Steve being beaten on by some jerk, and then Bucky showing up to rescue him. That one hit him the hardest, but there were fainter impressions somewhere in the back of Bucky's mind. He just knew that he and Steve were best friends, but that they'd been apart for a very long time, and they'd each suffered so much.

At the sound of his own name, Steve looked absolutely overjoyed. He looked to be about two seconds away from lunging towards Bucky and pulling him into a hug. To avoid that outcome, Bucky cleared his throat. "Gotta pee," he muttered.

Steve nodded, and helped Bucky stand up and walk into the little bathroom. Bucky wasn't sure why it was so difficult for him to walk, but he appreciated the assistance all the same. When he was done, he managed to stumble back to the hospital bed on his own, and he looked at where Steve was sitting in one of the visitor chairs. He didn't even have to ask what had happened, since apparently Steve just knew him well enough to know what he was thinking.

The blonde man let out a sigh, and slumped back in his seat. "Feels like the world is going to hell sometimes, Buck. But I'm glad that you're here now. If there's anyone who can help me make sense of it all, then it's you. What's the last thing that you remember?"

Bucky frowned as he tried to think. All of his memories felt muddled around, but some things were clearer than others. "I remember being on a plane or something, and you were there too. And I remember- Tony." His voice cracked gently between words.

For some reason, the name made Steve lean forward and clasp his hands together. "Tony?"

"Yeah. He's a kid that I knew. I think he saved my life."

Steve pressed his lips together into a flat line, and then he stood up suddenly. "Things are always more complicated than you'd hope, aren't they? I'll be right back, there's someone I think you should meet. Not that I'm saying you'll know him or anything, but sometimes it feels like the world is full of nothing but coincidences."

Steve left the hospital room, and Bucky shifted around restlessly while he waited for his old friend to return. After moving around, he finally realized that he was missing an entire arm, and wondered how he could've missed that in the first place. The metal stump that was left looked completely destroyed, but it didn't feel like anything, which meant that the damage hadn't gone far enough up to actually hit the nerves in his shoulder.

While he was in the middle of pondering the situation with his arm, the door to the room opened, and Steve stepped back inside. There was a man behind Steve, wearing a nice suit, clutching a suitcase, and looking very familiar. For a moment, Bucky had to bite back a growl at the thought that Tony's dad was standing there. But when he looked closer, he could see that there were many differences between this man and Tony's dad. So who was he, then? Another relative of Tony's?

The stranger hesitantly walked closer, and looked very unsure of himself. "Hey Bucky. I, uh, told Steve that you probably just need some time to yourself, but he insisted that I come in here. You probably don't remember me, which is honestly a good thing. There's a lot of um, bad blood between us. At first I even think I hated you a little bit. But I understand that the things you did weren't your choice, and while it doesn't exactly make me feel better, it makes me feel more understanding." He paused for a moment before perching on the very edge of the bed, and swinging the suitcase up onto his lap. "You probably don't remember this either, but a very long time ago, I told you that I'd make you a better arm, and I don't like to go back on the things that I say to people." He chuckled nervously, but Bucky didn't care about the awkwardness of the situation.

"Tony?"

Tony raised his eyebrows, and then nodded once. "Do you, uh, do you remember me? Do you remember what happened in-"

Bucky bolted upright, not caring that his balance was thrown off by the lack of a limb. "You're not a kid anymore. How long has it been? How long have I been trapped back in the place that I was just trying to escape from?"

Tony shifted around, looking a little uncomfortable with the question. "About thirty years," he said solemnly.

Bucky's eyes widened as he remembered glancing at himself in the bathroom mirror. Other than the missing arm, he looked exactly the same as he remembered looking when he'd first met Tony. But even though he'd aged well, it was easy to see that three decades had passed for Tony.

Most likely in an attempt to change the subject so things wouldn't feel quite so awkward, Tony popped open his suitcase, and turned it so that Bucky could see all the gleaming metal pieces in it. "As soon as you're feeling up to it, I can help you try out this bad boy. Though I'll probably have to start from scratch with the port. I didn't realize it had been damaged so badly. But overall, this should be a lot easier than your old one."

Before Tony was even finished with his sentence, Bucky leaned forward, and pulled the other man into a one armed hug. Perhaps he could only remember knowing Tony for a few days, and he'd also have so sort through what Tony had said about there being bad blood between them, but somehow, just being in the same room as the other man made Bucky feel like everything was going to be okay.

Tony seemed startled by the hug at first, but then he relaxed into it, and even went so far as to put one of his arms around Bucky too. Steve cleared his throat. "Alright then, I'm just going to give you two some time to talk alone. Don't forget that you're in a public institution, though."

Once Steve was gone, Tony giggled like he was still a teenager. "I have so much trouble trying to believe that that guy is really from the forties."

Bucky leaned back. "Well you'd better believe it, because that's the truth. Though if it helps at all, I'm pretty sure that he was a major stick in the mud back in the day." He sighed as he leaned back against the headboard. "Tell me about your life." He angled himself so that Tony would be able to work on the damaged port for his arm.

Tony pulled out a pack of tools from the suitcase, and kicked off his shoes before scooting closer and getting to work. "Not much to tell. My parents were killed, conveniently in the same year that I was legally old enough to drink, goofed off instead of taking over Dad's company, got stabbed in the back a few times too many, had my own fair share of pieces put in and taken out, became a superhero, retired, and now I'm here patching you up."

Of course Bucky didn't believe that that was really an accurate summation of the past thirty years of Tony's life, but he didn't want to make Tony feel too uncomfortable. "So how long have you had a spare arm lying around? You could've mentioned that when you first offered your help," he tried to joke.

Tony frowned around a small screwdriver that was balanced between his teeth. "Made this special just for you. Didn't think you'd ever actually get the chance to wear it." Then they both sat in silence for a while, until Tony finally leaned back, and gave a nod of satisfaction. "That looks like it should hold up pretty well. Now just give me a few minutes to…" he trailed off as he pulled the pieces of metal out of his suitcase, and began putting them together faster than Bucky could possibly keep track of.

About an hour after that, Bucky was flexing his new arm, and staring at it in amazement. It was far lighter than the previous one, but Tony had assured him that it was just as strong, and that he could try it out for himself as soon as he was discharged from the hospital. There was also a higher level of sensitivity in this arm, so he didn't have to be smashing his fingers up against things to know that they were there. Overall, it was a really impressive piece of work, and the fact that Tony had made it when he was still just a kid seemed incredible.

A few days later, Bucky was officially discharged, but he wasn't sure where to go. Steve had offered him the spare bedroom in his place, but Bucky was wary about spending too much time with his old friend. He knew that Steve had all kinds of expectations about how Bucky would just remember every detail of his old life, and then become the exact same person that he used to be. But that probably wasn't going to happen, and Bucky wasn't even sure that he wanted it to. Sure, it would be nice to remember everything, the good and the bad. But back in the day, Bucky had been naive and stupid, and he didn't want to be that way anymore.

He stood in the hospital lobby for far too long as he tried to think about where to go, when suddenly there was the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him. He silently berated himself for not being more aware of his surroundings as he spun around, and saw Tony standing there, looking a little nervous. "Hey. I heard from Steve that you weren't heading out with him, and I thought that you might need a place to crash for a while." He cleared his throat again before reaching out one hand. "I was thinking that maybe we could start over. Hi, I'm Tony Stark."

"Bucky Barnes, also known as your first crush," Bucky said smoothly without even thinking about it as he accepted the handshake.

Tony's eyes widened for a moment, and then he snorted. "Nice one. Come on, I've got way too many spare beds at my place, and it's starting to feel a little lonely." He reached out to grab Bucky's metal arm to pull him along, just like he had when he was younger. As they got into a car that looked like something straight out of a science fiction novel, Bucky couldn't help feeling like everything in his life was finally going right.

When they reached Tony's house, which was a towering skyscraper instead of the large manor that Bucky remembered, both of them just sat in the car for a moment. Everything suddenly seemed too silent as Tony shut off the engine. Bucky wasn't sure what they were waiting for, but he didn't want to get out of the car until he found out for sure.

It took a couple of minutes before Tony spoke. "You weren't wrong before, you know. You probably were my first crush. Don't get me wrong, by that point I'd already had more sex than most people have in a lifetime, but that's not really the same thing." He gulped, and then turned to look Bucky in the eyes. "Even after the things that you've done, being with you just feels so right. Like it was fated to be this way from the moment that we first met."

Alright, Bucky had to know before he died of curiosity. "What are the things that I've done? To you specifically?"

Tony sighed, and reached up to run a hand through his hair. "Well for starters, you did try to kill me just a month ago. It's easier to blame you for that than the other stuff though, since you weren't in control for the other stuff." Bucky tilted his head, silently urging Tony to continue. "You killed my parents," he said quietly.

Bucky remembered the anger that he felt towards Tony's dad in one of his last moments of lucidity. He was glad that he'd killed the vile man. But he'd never even met Tony's mom before, and he certainly had nothing against her. He just reached out slowly, and then took one of Tony's hands in his own, hoping that he wasn't being too forward. "I'm sorry."

"I know." Tony gulped, and then suddenly pulled away so that he could get out of the car. "Come on, I should show you to your room."

When they got inside an elevator in the lobby, Bucky glanced at Tony out of the corner of his eye. "You never told me what the 'pizza delivery boy kink' is."

Tony snorted, but after seeing the dead serious look on Bucky's face, he devolved into outright laughter that lasted several floors. When he finally managed to calm himself down, he leaned back against the elevator wall. "You should look this one up on your own. Especially if you happen to be borrowing the capsicle's phone or computer at the time. That would be hilarious."

They reached the top floor of the tower, and Tony gestured grandly. He was right to be proud of his home, because it really was an impressive place. But Bucky couldn't really take too much of it in, because he was too busy studying Tony's face. The smile on his face definitely had a tinge of fakeness to it. "Why did you want to start over again?" he couldn't help asking. "You know that you'll never be able to really forget the past."

Tony sighed. "I know. But I can't help desperately wanting to forget it all."

"Even the good stuff?"

Tony made his way over to the bar in the middle of the large room. "What good stuff? We only knew each other for a couple of days when I was younger. And every time I've met you since then has been unpleasant memories all around. I'm almost envious of the fact that you have no idea what I'm talking about." He suddenly froze, his arm right in the middle of reaching up to grab a bottle, and then he quickly turned around to give Bucky an apologetic look. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that. And I don't drink anymore either." He swore under his breath, and then walked over to the couch to sink down on it. "God my life feels like hell right now."

Bucky waited a moment to see if he was going to be kicked out or not. When Tony didn't say anything else, he figured that it was safe to sit down on the couch next to the billionaire. "If you need someone to help you figure things out, I'm right here."

Tony sighed, and looked up. For a moment he seemed surprised to realize just how close to him Bucky was sitting. Then he nodded once. "Sure. Thanks."

They were both silent for a moment before Bucky asked, "Was I really your first crush?"

Tony's face got a little red, and then he nodded once. "Yeah, yeah, hold it over my head all you want. Just don't tell anyone else on the team. I'm pretty sure that they would figure out a way to laugh at me to death or something."

"We wouldn't want that," Bucky murmured. "I much prefer you when you're alive." He offered a small, but honest, smile to Tony. "Can I tell you something? I don't think I really realized it at the time, but you were my first crush too."

Tony snorted. "That's not fair though. You barely even know anyone else. Except for maybe the cap but- ugh, I don't even want to think about that." He leaned slightly closer to Bucky, so that there was less than an inch of space between them, but they weren't actually touching.

"Tony? Thank you for the arm. I don't think you could ever really understand just how much it means to me that you would make it and give it to me, even after everything else. I'd offer the same thing as last time, but I've read a lot about you online recently, and I'm pretty sure that you can take care of yourself now." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Then again, that doesn't mean that you should have to." He suddenly slid off of the couch so that he was kneeling in front of Tony, who looked like he was about to start panicking. "Tony? Will you let me protect you this time? To make up for all the time I wasn't there to help you?"

Tony sighed, and leaned back in his seat. "Eh, I guess so. Couldn't really hurt." His eyes slid closed for a few seconds before he looked down at Bucky. "Just to clarify, was that supposed to be like an invitation for sex, or…?"

Bucky chuckled. "It was just an offer of protection. But if you want it to be, then it could also be an offer that I'll use protection."

Tony sat up straighter, and reached out to ruffle up Bucky's long hair. "You're adorable, you know that?"

"That's exactly what I thought the first time that I saw you," Bucky confessed.

They both sat there for a minute before Tony stood up, and stretched his arms over his head. "I'm too old to be getting down on my knees or anything. But if you're interested in finding out how good a lay your first crush is, I'll be in my bedroom." Then he sauntered away, leaving Bucky slightly shocked and awed.

He stood up, and after a moment of hesitation, headed in the direction that Tony had gone in. When he found the bedroom, he poked his head in, and saw that Tony was sprawled out on top of his blankets, still completely dressed, and his eyes were closed. His chest rose and fell slowly, and Bucky couldn't help grinning at the adorable sight. He walked over and easily picked Tony up so that he could pull the blankets back, and tuck the man underneath them. Then he plopped down on top of the blankets next to Tony, and rolled onto his side so that he could face them. "Good night," he said softly. And as he fell asleep, Bucky just knew that everything was going to be okay.