"Hawkeye, in position." Though the archer spoke in a whisper, Bucky winced and turned the volume down on his earpeice. There were enough voices in his head. Out in the field was not when he wanted them cropping up, arguing with one another.

He still wasn't sure he ought to be here.
There were several beats, then Natasha's softer, more sultry voice chimed in. "Black Widow, born ready."
Two more heartbeats. Bucky took a deep breath and touched his com link. "Winter Soldier, ready."

If there was anybody aside from Steve Bucky was happy to be on an op with, it was these two. Clint, because he was an all-round good guy, and he was damned good at his job... without being as overwhelming as certain other Avengers. Clint was just Clint - unruffled, easygoing, and wholeheartedly human.

Bucky was also glad of Natasha's presence, because if things went wrong - no matter how assured Steve was that they wouldn't - Black Widow would kick his ass and haul it back to base.
"Let's do this." Clint was running this one. He and Nat had been the ones to spot Pietro Maximoff in New York and lay the trap for him - a meeting with a man who claimed to know the whereabouts of the sister he was rumoured to be looking for.

Bucky didn't much care, one way or the other. He wasn't nervous about taking down Quicksilver, since he was strictly the muscle in this instance, here in case the mutant put up a fight. He would step up only if Clint's plan didn't work - and where was the last time Clint missed a shot? He was only nervous about being here in the first place, and yet... he hated to admit to himself that being back in the field felt right. Comforting, yet... still faintly nauseating.

"He's a show. I've got eyes on him." Natasha reported, and Bucky tensed, left fist clenching, doubts returning in a rush. He shouldn't have let Steve talk him into this. He wasn't ready for-

"Hawkeye, now!" Clint stood up from his hiding place (ironically, it was atop a monument of a pair of eagles) and fired. Bucky breathed a sight of relief when he heard Pietro swear, and he stepped onto the path to see he hadn't fled - couldn't, judging by the scowl on his face. It deepened when he saw who was responsible for his current state.

The silver-haired man yanked the arrow from his arm in slight slow-motion. "What... did... you... do?"

"We needed to talk. Without the special effects, this time." Bucky reached out a hand to grip Pietro's arm. He obviously tried to yank it away, but with his powers of speed taken away from him, he wasn't a match for Bucky. His slim shoulders slumped and he breathed a slow, angry sigh of defeat. "Okay okay, let me go." He growled sullenly. Bucky pressed it for a minute longer before complying. Pietro startled when Clint dropped off the top of the monument and fell in on his other side. "Told you it'd work. Steve'll be happy."

Bucky sighed as well. Steve would be happy. The mission had gone off without a hitch, despite his involvement. Granted, this had been a simple one. Almost too simple.

"Yeah." Bucky mumbled. "You and Nat take him back to base. Tell Steve I'll be home later." Clint didn't look all that surprised, just waved, and Bucky waited to peel off from the group until Natasha joined them, granting him a single nod before assessing Pietro.
He watched until he saw the small jet taking off from the sports field they'd left it cloaked in. Then he extended both arms over his head, gripping his right wrist with his left to flex the flesh-and-muscle arm. Checking there was nobody near enough to pick up the altered motion, he then twisted the metal arm back down into place. He set out aimlessly across a stretch of dewy grass with his hands in his pockets, which had become routine even though he habitually wore black leather gloves to hide his metal hand from prying eyes.

He wondered if this would ever feel right.

He was better, there was no doubt about it. The nightmares came less frequently, and there was less violence now in their aftermath. Steve occasionally got through a whole night in his own room without needing to check on him. Bucky never found the words to admit he hated waking in the early hours and finding that Steve wasn't there with his quiet murmurs of reassurance.
The team largely trusted him. He would have been pressed to find a reason not to call Clint and Jane friends, and even jaded Tony and wary Thor were civil, warming to him slowly.
His memories troubled him. No more had returned since the day in the kitchen, and trying to force them still brought waves of dizzying pain that could cripple him. He hated that he still worried Steve. Worrying Steve fell into forbidden territory, alongside kicking puppies or talking in the theater, and Bucky had stopped fighting the fact that he cared when he hurt him. Steve held everyone together - the team, the remnants of S.H.I.E.L.D., himself. He didn't need to baby Bucky too, and the Winter Soldier was now fighting to cope with a new, protective side that had snuck up on him stealthier than Black Widow on a mission.

Jane had given him cooking lessons throughout the weeks when he was too afraid to set foot outside Avengers tower for fear his temper or memories would snap and he'd hurt some innocent going about their day. So he tested out his growing skills on Steve, who seemed more than happy to eat whatever offered. Starting slow at first, with eggs and simple pasta dishes, working up to burgers and steaks, pizzas and baked goods, finally to fully fledged roast meals that brought Thor to declare 'As fine a meal as any to grace the tables of Asgard.' Cooking for the whole team like that was still terrifying, but he never minded when it was just him and Steve.
He stopped now to purchase a hot dog from an early-morning vendor. Tony's challenge - "Do one thing every day you aren't comfortable with to ingrain yourself back into normal life." The hot dog was delicious, and he went back and brought a second one. Steve had brought Bucky the first hot dog he could remember from a cart just like this one.

Hydra cells and agents were everywhere and Steve, always putting himself on the front lines, frequently came home battered and bruised. He refused to let Jarvis tend to minor injuries like that, but when Bucky tentatively volunteered, Steve accepted. Feeling like a clumsy oaf, Bucky bathed and bandaged Steve's cuts and scrapes. He remembered when Steve had done this for him back when he was new to the mansion, and the memory inserted an unexpected silver of warmth into a heart he was no longer certain worked properly.

Bucky stopped in the middle of a quiet glen by a small lake, out of sight of the early-morning joggers, the odd horse-rider and the dog walkers beginning to appear on the paths. He drew his knees up, rested his chin on his metal arm, no longer flinching at the cold.

The night before, Steve had fallen asleep in his office, pouring over old files in an effort to pick out potential Hydra agents. Bucky had found him when he came to say goodnight, frowning when a shake of his shoulders brought only a twitch of his hand and a murmured protest. Before he could think, he picked up his friend easily in his one metal, one human arm and carried him to his room. Placing his head gently on a pillow and pulling a blanket over him had seemed natural. Bucky hesitated when he went to leave. There was an armchair just like the one in his own room, just like the one Steve had spent so many nights in, watching over him. Bucky settled down in that chair without a second thought - it had just felt right.

He'd woken up early to join Clint and Natasha for the mission briefing, and he hadn't seen Steve before he left, but he wasn't naive enough to think that Steve didn't know where he'd spent the night.

When he went home, he would have to see him, talk, explain, and he was putting it off.
It wasn't all that much of a surprise when, after spending most of the day sitting in the same spot, he heard footsteps.

Steve approached him from behind, and Bucky felt him hesitate, then straighten up and close the distance between them. He patted his old friend's shoulder (metal) in gentle greeting, then sat down and leaned back slightly, so they braced each other, back-to-back.

"Quicksilver secure?" Bucky couldn't think of any other conversation starter. He wondered if the silence would have bothered him a few months ago.

"Right as rain, settled into Tony's guest wing. Bruce is having a word with him before Tony tries though, figured he'd be more diplomatic. Seems like Natasha's source was right, he's been looking for his sister."

"Long as he figures out which side he's on, now."

"He might not take long with that. You didn't." Steve pointed out, and Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat.

"That chair can't have been comfortable last night." Steve mentioned quietly. Bucky took a deep breath before answering. "You stayed in one a lot longer than one night."

"They aren't so bad."

Silence fell. Eventually Steve knelt then stood, holding out a hand to haul Bucky up. Very deliberately, it was his left one, so Bucky had to accept with the same side. They started walking, keeping stride together without effort.

"Can I ask you something?" Steve hedged, and Bucky scowled. "I hate it when people ask me that. Not only have they already asked something, inevitably the thing they want to ask is something I don't want to answer."

"That's why I asked."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Go on."

"Why'd you save me when I fell from the hellicarrier?"

Yeah, that was definitely a question Bucky didn't want to answer. He gritted his teeth, feeling pressure throb at his temples, wondering if caring always hurt this much.

"I wasn't where I was now. I jumped in for you because you didn't leave me under that beam. I owed you, that's all."

Steve took the response placidly. "If that's what you need to think. I know better."

Damned Steve always thinking the fucking best of everybody. Bucky narrowed his eyes and fumed silently, unwilling to admit that he was mad mostly because he was afraid Steve was - as usual - right.

He became aware they were passing through the gates of one of the exits and blinked. "-Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise. Get on." Bucky stayed where he was for a long minute while Steve waited patiently on his bike. Finally he threw up his hands in exasperation and climbed on behind him. "You know I hate surprises." He growled, clamping his metal arm around Steve a little harder than necessary as he took off. Steve just laughed. "Yeah, I know."
Bucky was a little surprised when they pulled up at a small building (for New York) with a distinctly antiseptic smell that made him wrinkle his nose. "And you know I hate hospitals, too." He grumbled, and Steve - sombre now, stress lines Bucky didn't remember running shallow furrows across his forehead - nodded. "Me too." He agreed, a strange subdued version of Steve. Unbidden, Bucky felt the protective surge flare up within him. Dammit - he couldn't let Steve go in there alone.

"It's a good time to visit." A plump, smiling nurse behind the receptionist desk assured the two men, showing them to a private room. "She's had a positive week. Her memory has been really good."

Bucky wasn't expecting the person Steve was visiting to sit up in surprise in her bed, her movements slowed, her wrinkled face sparking another uncomfortable non-memory in him - the feeling that he should know who she was. She certainly recognized him.
"Bucky Barnes?" She was so tiny and pale against the big hospital bed with all the beeping equipment Bucky had to fight not to smash into rubble, that he found himself moving with great care towards her.
"Yeah." It came out as barely more than a whisper, stopping at a safe distance. He wanted, at that moment, to remember this woman his appearance obviously meant something so great to. It was a struggle to admit to her, "I... I don't remember you. I'm sorry." He felt equal parts terrified and uncomfortable.
Peggy Carter blinked the tears back from her eyes. Steve had been hanging back, but she turned her head towards him, reached out one frail hand, and he couldn't not go to her. Peggy looked at the two of them standing side by side, and one tear escaped. "I don't know if I'm dreaming. But if I'm not, then I've been blessed, seeing both of you, together."

Steve looked stricken. Bucky had a fleeting thought that whatever plans he had for this meeting, this hadn't been it. "Peggy, I wouldn't have come if I'd known we'd upset-"

Peggy lifted her free hand to stop him, and in the motion was a shadow of a woman who had fought her way through the army ranks in a time when they belonged to men. "Steve, I may be old, but there's no need to treat me like cracked china." She scolded gently. "This is... you have no idea the gift you've given me. How I worry about you, the trouble you get yourself into, and what a load off my mind it is that you've got Bucky at your side again." Her still-shrewd gaze landed on the Winter Soldier and she transferred her grip from Steve's wrist to his, not even flinching when she encountered what was obviously not human flesh. "And that he has you. Bucky Barnes, whatever you've been through that weighs on you so heavily, you'll get through it. You were not a Howling Commando for nothing."
Bucky was paralyzed in her frail grip, which was somehow more powerful than his own. He felt the need to tiptoe, take more care in this than in anything he'd ever done. "I don't remember anything. Not you, the Commandos, or being Steve's best friend." He confessed, voice hushed. Peggy just smiled a sad, knowing smile. "He'll help you. One constant, I've always had... is that Steve never gives up."
Steve shook his head and waved off the compliment under the comforting words. "How've you been feeling, Peg?"

"Oh, fine and dandy, Steve. Better still if somebody would tell me what was going on with S.H.I.E.L.D."

Steve and Bucky exchanged a quick look. Steve shook his head, just a tiny incline of his chin one way, to tell Bucky no. "Well, Peggy, that's a long story..."

"Where do you imagine I have to go, with this pressing social calendar nobody's told me about?" Peggy relied tartly, and Steve for a moment saw through the years, saw the woman he'd know all those years ago.
"That's kinda why I'm here." It was Bucky who carried on while Steve hesitated, and he crouched down by Peggy's bedside so he could look her in the eye. "S.H.I.E.L.D... were infiltrated by Hydra, all the way through their ranks. I was part of them, until Steve kinda... pushed me back into the world." He looked over at his oldest friend, and wondered who he'd had to push him back into living, the way Steve had for him.

Peggy blinked slowly, listening carefully, nodded once or twice then without warning, closed her eyes and began to cough painfully. Bucky leaped back from her bed, eyes wide in alarm - still in control of himself, just fearful something he had said or done had been the trigger. Steve clutched at Peggy's hand, brought her a glass of water, but she waved him weakly away. "Oh Steve, I'm sorry." She whispered, voice raspy from her coughing fit.

"Don't ever be sorry. For anything." Bucky knew many of Steve's tells and facial expressions now, he could see how hard this was on him. Peggy's eyes started to close, and Steve gently placed her hand back on the bed and signaled Bucky to leave. Before they could, Peggy's eyes opened to half-mast and she smiled faintly. "Steve... nobody used the acronym back then, but... when I named it, S.H.I.E.L.D... I was thinking of you. Long after you'd gone."

Steve froze, his blue eyes wide. Peggy sighed softly, and drifted peacefully off to sleep. Steve stayed where he was until Bucky gently took his arm and led him out of the room.