The journey there felt longer than he had ever experienced. What would Steve be like, was he okay? What would he remember?

The flood of never-ending questions runs through his brain. His leg is pumping up and down like piston as Bucky watches the scenery flash past his window. He pulls his cap off, running hands through his hair before settling it back.

"Is he-" he starts and stops. The words that he wants to ask burn on his tongue like acid but he doesn't ask, he can't. Up until now, Bucky had been living by himself, living in the wilderness away from anyone who might show him the passage of time with their aging selves. What if Steve doesn't make it through the de-icing? A part of him scoffs at even at the thought, but the possibility is real, the files that Coulson has provided state it as much. Nick has not bothered to hide the bare truth from him. He knows that Bucky appreciates the cruel truth much more than the omission of truth to protect him. Knowing that Steve might not make it out in one piece, that he might not be complete, that his body might be in one piece but his mind might not return, haunts Bucky.

Coulson sits opposite him, politely staring out of the window. He doesn't offer the platitudes of empty comfort, it's not in his habit to do so and neither is it in Bucky's to seek them. Bucky runs a hand down his stubble, pulling the cap off and staring blankly at it. He looks up and catches Coulson watching him with a bland smile.

"We're here," he tells Bucky.

The building they had stopped outside is a non-descript apartment building. Light brown paint covering the walls, nothing too outstanding that would have drawn the passerby's attention. Nick was waiting for him in the lobby. Had it been another time, a regular summons, Bucky might have jokingly accused Nick of loving theatrics and recommended he join a drama club. But it wasn't, and the light-hearted bantering was noticeably missing in the silence of the lobby.

"Where is he?" Bucky asks without preamble, not that Nick would have been expecting one. Nick turns and walks up the stairs, expecting Bucky to follow. The structure of the building is old, so old that it reminds him of the apartment buildings that Steve and him used to live in. The hallway is exactly like the stairs, old, furnished like the 1940s until they turn into a room that is clearly the surveillance room based on the equipment in it. Steve is in the other room, in a 1940s-style hospital room. Bucky might have lived for a long time, but he would never forget what hospitals used to look like, not when he used to live more in the hospital than they did in their apartment. "What the fuck is this?" Bucky demands, gripping Nick by the collar.

"It's to help him gently ease into the century. A lot of things have changed since the 1940s, sir." He is unperturbed by Bucky's outburst as though he has expected it, he probably has, in fact. The art of reading people was, after all, handed down to Nick by none other than him.

"Have you turned stupid since the last time you saw me?" Bucky drops Nick and pushes past him. Steve would not take the deception kindly at all. Perhaps if it had been another person, the idea of gently easing him into the modern century might have been a good one. They don't know Steve like he does and if there's anything Steve hates more, it would be being lied to in spite of the good intentions.

Bucky gets there just in time, Steve knocking the woman away, bursting into the hallway like fire on his heels. "Buck?" Steve murmurs, his name scarcely making a stir in the air.

"Your ma would have your hide if she saw the way you just treated that dame," Bucky replies and nods at the agent dressed in the nurse's clothes. Flushing, Steve turns to the woman and helps her up. "I won't deny that it was a stupid ass idea," Bucky says loudly, eyeing the hidden camera. He takes Steve's hand and steers him down the stairs.

"You can't just leave. He still needs to be debriefed." Nick folds his arms at the bottom of the stairwell.

"I tell you what he needs. He needs to go home. I waited seventy goddamn years for him to come back and your debriefing can wait another week."

"Seventy years?" Steve repeats with an incredulous look.

"Yes, punk, you're seventy years late for the date you promised me."

Chuckling hollowly, Steve shakes his head. "Damn hell of a long wait to make up. You still want me?"

Bucky jerks Steve forward, slanting his lips over Steve's, firmly mouthing his lips, unyielding and demanding even when Steve twitches, moaning into his mouth, heat rushing through them as Bucky pulls Steve in tight. "Always," he says huskily, pressing a kiss on his throat before stepping away, dropping his arm around Steve's waist and raises an eyebrow at Nick.

Nick clears his throat. "One week, sir."

"I'm pretty sure I could debrief him in my own time."

"You're retired."

Bucky grins wryly. "Not officially."

Author's Note:

I just happened to notice that this was marked completed but not up to date to the Ao3's version. So, I just mass transferred them over. No these are not fresh chps; yes, this is still marked as completed; no, there won't be any new chps for this.

Hope you enjoyed these.