I'd be lying if I said that I haven't been procrastinating about posting this chapter. Because... well... this is the last chapter for Remembering.
Please do let me know what you think and I truly hope that you enjoy this one!

Chapter 34

Rebecca Barnes' head snapped up when she heard the doorbell ring. A burst of excitement and nervousness ran through her at the prospect of seeing Steve again. The twenty-year old had been more than surprised when she'd received a text message from Steve earlier that day, asking if he could visit them. She had been surprised that he'd had her number even after all these years, even more surprised that Steve hadn't changed his. It had been seven years since she'd last seen him and she couldn't help but wonder what had made him want to see them again. Without a doubt, she was happy to see her late brother's best friend again; still, she knew that seeing Steve's face would be a bittersweet thing- she'd never seen Steve without Bucky at his side and seeing him now would probably be painful- for both of them. Still, Steve had suffered just as much as they had when Bucky had been declared dead. It was no secret that both Bucky and Steve cared deeply for one another- it was why Bucky had put Steve down as his emergency contact at the military instead of his own mother.

"Mom!" Rebecca called out, dropping the novel she had been reading onto her bed and rushing out of her bedroom on woolen socks, "Steve's here!"

"Go let him in will you honey? I'm almost done making the apple pie!" Winifred Barnes called from the kitchen cheerfully, poking her head around the corner so she could flash her daughter a warm smile.

"Steve's gonna love that!" Rebecca called back, grinning.

Dressed in a pair of maroon jogging pants and a loose-fitting purple long-sleeved shirt, Rebecca scurried to the front door. She stopped beside the mirror they had hanging next to the wardrobe in the entrance, giving her reflection a critical once-over. Steve had last seen her when she was thirteen and a half. She had been a child back then. Now she was well on her way to becoming an adult. She could see the resemblance she had to Bucky, sharing the same eye colour as him and the same strong facial features. She brushed her long brown hair behind her ears before looking away from her reflection and taking one last, deep breath before opening the door.

The smile she had prepared for Steve faltered when she realized that Steve wasn't alone. Despite there being two strangers at her door, her attention was immediately drawn to the larger stranger standing directly next to Steve, holding his hand.

"Hey Rebecca." Steve greeted her quietly, cautiously.

"Hey Steve!" She greeted him hoarsely, shooting a quick, acknowledging smile at him before looking at the man again. He looked like he had just seen a ghost- pale skin, mouth hanging open and eyes wide with shock.

Just as she was about to open her mouth to introduce herself to him, her mind clicked, and the truth hit her like a backhand slap to the face. He looked different, harrowingly so but still, even after all this time, even after all of the changes he had obviously gone through and as impossible she was telling herself that it was, there was not a shadow of a doubt in her mind that this was… he was….

Within milliseconds, the world that she had so carefully and meticulously built up after Bucky's death, came crashing down in a roaring inferno that picked her apart like fresh pastry. She clenched her jaw and her lips began quivering uncontrollably while hot tears left wet trails on her flushed cheeks on their downward path towards her chin.

She wanted to say his name, but her voice cut out just as a quivering sob forced its way up her throat.

Bucky looked just as mortified as his sister did. Their matching eyes were both wide and teary, missed years' worth of worry and sadness breaking the surface like a hot geyser.

"Becca." Bucky breathed her name like a whispered prayer. He opened his arms for her slowly, hesitantly, suddenly afraid of his own strength, afraid that he might hurt his petit baby sister, afraid that the person he had become couldn't be gentle enough for her.

"How could this… But you. They said… Is it really you?" She wailed, stretching her arms out towards him like a child begging to be held.

"O'course it's me Becca." Buck said brokenly, gathering her much smaller body into his large arms carefully, "Ever seen another fella look this handsome?"

"Bucky!" She sobbed, falling against his chest and repeating his name over and over again disbelievingly, her weeping becoming louder and louder the longer this went on.

"Hey…" Bucky tried to soothe her, "Hey it's okay. You don't gotta cry like that Becca." He ran his right hand over her hair gently, holding her head against his chest while she cried into the white t-shirt he was wearing, leaving dark stains where her tears soaked into the fabric.

Steve could only see her hands that were clinging onto Bucky's sides, her arms too short to reach all the way around her brother's wide torso. Her thin fingers were holding onto the fabric of his hoodie so tightly that her knuckles were turning white.

Looking at Rebecca and the way she clung to Bucky reminded Steve so much of what he had felt when he had first laid eyes on Bucky in that interrogation room. It brought forth the insatiable urge to grab onto Bucky as well, to remind himself that Bucky was there, that he was real, that he was staying and that he wasn't dead after all; but he stopped himself, rooting himself to the ground beneath his feet with sheer determination, set on giving Rebecca the time she needed with her older brother.

Sam, sensing Steve's inner turmoil, put an arm around Steve's shoulders, pulling him into his side for comfort. Steve accepted the embrace with utmost gratitude, trying to drown out the heart wrenching sound of a sister crying over a brother she thought she had lost forever.

The group of four was abruptly ripped out of their little bubble when they heard a loud gasp.

Winifred had approached so quietly that not even Bucky had heard her up until she had made herself known.

Unlike Rebecca, Winifred had known exactly who he was the moment she had seen him and yet, that didn't stop her mind from yelling at her, telling her that this was just another one of her dreams about how she wished her son would come home, that he wasn't dead.

"James?" She croaked, hands reaching out on their own to touch his face. She seemed much more composed than Rebecca who was still holding onto Bucky as if she was scared that he would disappear if she let him go. Despite her apparent composure, when Bucky dared to look his mother in the eyes, he could see the way Winifred's heart was breaking all over again. Her blue eyes were like mirrors, reflecting the inner chaos she was going through upon seeing her son again after having attended his memorial service, after having gone through years of therapy, after mourning her own son's death.

Out of all the people that Bucky knew, Steve excluded, his mother was the person that knew him best. He could see the way her beautiful eyes were looking him over, taking in all the changes as if she were making a mental list of all of them, drawing a map in her mind of all the subtle changes that only a mother could notice.

Her hands were soft and warm and disbelieving, tracing his cheekbones, running along the bridge of his nose, over his forehead and over his brown hair. Bucky relaxed into the touch, smiling at the familiarity of those hands, at how they made him feel secure, nurtured even. Her hands carded through his hair briefly before moving on to his ears, his neck, his shoulders… When her hesitant hands touched the base of his metal arm though, he flinched, pulling away from her instinctively as if her touch had burnt him.
"Sorry." He apologized immediately, bowing his head ashamedly like a child afraid of being scolded.

"What happened to you?" Winifred asked him tearfully, "What happened James? They told us you were dead. What on earth…" Her façade cracked, letting some of her sadness leak out in form of a few stray tears.

"We should probably go inside for this." Sam chipped in formally, his voice brimming with kindness and warmth, "Sam Wilson, VA councilor." He added when both Rebecca and Winifred looked at him, both visibly surprised by his presence, as if they hadn't noticed him up until that point.

Winifred then diverted her attention to a distraught Steve. He looked to her like he was coming apart at the edges, much like he had looked at the memorial service, dressed in black with dark rings under his bloodshot eyes, small body shaking with uncontrollable weeping.

"Steven." She acknowledged him warmly, noting the way he jumped and bowed his head when she tried to meet his eyes. "It's so good to see you Steve. You look well." She added.

When Steve failed to reply, Rebecca's face twisted into a frown. She let go of her brother, moving to stand in front of Steve's tall frame instead.

"Steve." She said reproachfully albeit gently, taking a hold of his hand and holding onto it tightly, "Don't do that." She implored, "You need to stop blaming yourself for what happened."

"I'm so sorry." The words burst out of Steve, his voice worn thin with sorrow.

It made Bucky's heart clench. He wanted to draw Steve in, kiss him, tell him that everything was okay, that he wasn't at fault for anything that had happened. Before he could do anything though, his mother stepped in, wearing the gentlest of looks on her face.

"What on earth are you apologizing for?" She asked him, pulling the now much taller man into a tight, motherly hug.

"I left you guys. I… I disappeared. It was wrong of me. I just… every time I looked at you-."

"Hush child." Winifred shushed him quietly, placing a hand at the back of his head to bring his head down onto her shoulder, "You don't need to explain yourself."

"But I'm so sorry." Steve insisted tearfully, wrapping his arms around Winifred and clinging to her as though he was clinging to his very own mother.

"So are we." Rebecca mumbled, seeming to fight with tears of her own as she snuggled up to Steve's side to join in the hug.

The living room hadn't been changed at all. It still had the garish green couches and the fluffy cream carpet. The coffee table was still the same thick-framed glass table littered with magazines and used coffee mugs that left rings on the glass when lifted. The mantel above the TV was still filled with family photos, even the ones of Bucky and the ones of Steve and Bucky from Steve's countless visits. One thing had changed though: next to the door to the hall, Winifred had put up a large, framed picture of Bucky in his military dress uniform. He looked quite handsome in the photo with a gentle smile and an optimistic look in his eyes.

Bucky's eyes lingered on the almost life-sized photo shortly before he looked at his mother who was sitting with Rebecca on the two-seater adjacent to the couch Bucky had sat down on with Steve.

She still looked almost the same as she had when he'd said goodbye to her on the morning he had shipped out. She had aged a little, more wrinkles adorning her beautiful face and yet, there was still something young about her. Her eyes hadn't changed at all and her hands still looked exactly the same. Her hair was done up in a bun, just as she preferred it, with grey strands threaded in between the brown ones, like silver tinsel decorating a Christmas tree.

Sam had opted for the stool in the corner of the room next to the bookshelf, preferring to watch the exchange from a distance. He wanted Bucky and Steve to know that he was there if they needed him, but he also had absolutely no intention of interfering or taking control of the conversation that was bound to start at any moment.

The air felt heavy around them as though the emotions and regrets felt by each person had become palpable and had begun floating around in the air, weighing it down.

Instinctively, Bucky leant towards Steve until their shoulders brushed.

The contact yanked Steve back to reality and he blinked a few times, tearing his eyes away from the framed photo of Bucky. Slowly, Steve rested his hand on Bucky's thigh, rubbing his thumb over the rough fabric of Bucky's jeans in comforting strokes.

The gestured relaxed Bucky and he let out a slow breath, leaning back in his seat. Absently, Bucky noted that his mother's eyes flicked to Steve's hand before they came to rest on Bucky's eyes. With a relieved smile and a nod, she encouraged him to start.

"The 107th got captured." Bucky began, picking out every word he spoke slowly, trying to distance himself from what he was saying in order to keep it together, "I was imprisoned by a Neo-Nazi organisation that…" Against his will, Bucky's voice dissipated into silence, the knot in his throat making it impossible to speak. He felt a cold sweat begin to build, starting at the back of his neck. His breathing became laboured and he bent forward on instinct, horrifying memories racing to the forefront of his mind.

"It's alright." He heard Steve say.

In the periphery of his vision, Bucky could see that his mother had gotten up. He felt ashamed, chastising himself for acting like this in front of his family. He didn't want them to think that he wasn't okay. He didn't want them to know that he was broken.

"Buck?" Steve added quietly.

Bucky's head lifted on its own, following the direction of Steve's voice until he was looking at Steve.

There was pain and fear in Bucky's eyes. His forehead was creased in worry, his lips caught between chewing teeth.

"Let me tell them." Steve offered.

Bucky shook his head. "This ain't your story to tell Stevie."

"Remember what happened the last time you tried to tell the story? When you tried to tell me?" Steve replied stubbornly, "I'm not gonna put you through that again. You don't have to deal with this alone Buck- let me take some of the load off your shoulders." Steve had that fiercely determined look in his eyes, the look that no-one, not even the teachers at his school had been able to argue with. Bucky hadn't ever been able to either, regardless of how often he had tried.

"Bucky." Sam chose to speak up, "Steve's right. There's no point in torturing yourself by forcing yourself to talk about what happened. Let him do this."

Bucky gritted his teeth, unhappy with Steve's solution. He knew that retelling the story was going to put Steve through hell, but he also knew that his own reactions to telling the story might be more upsetting not just for Steve, but for his sister and mother as well- that is, assuming he even managed to get the words out.

"Fine." Bucky relented disconcertedly.

"Bucky why don't you go and show Sam the balcony?" Winifred suggested quietly.

With a stiff nod, Bucky got up, his body moving more like the Winter Soldier's as he crossed the living room to the large glass door leading to the balcony.

Once Bucky was outside and completely out of earshot, Winifred and Rebecca gave Steve their undivided attention, visibly preparing themselves for whatever Steve was about to tell them. Winifred looked graver than she had to start off with and Rebecca looked like she was about to start crying again. To Rebecca, Bucky had always been the strong big brother- this Bucky however, looked disconcerted and fragile, the exact opposite to how she remembered him.

"None of this is going to be particularly easy on you." Steve warned them.

Winifred shook her head, a look of sheer motherly determination finding its way onto her features. "It doesn't matter what it'll be like for us. Tell us everything you know."

"Are you sure you want to-."

"Everything." Winifred insisted, fixing Steve with the stubborn look that he knew from Bucky.

Sighing heavily, Steve gave in with a nod of his head. "Everything." He echoed, as if he were reminding himself, convincing the painful memories to resurface.

His eyes found the life-sized portrait of Bucky again while he let his mind go back to what he had learnt from Colonel Rhodes and eventually, allowed himself to carefully edge closer to the memory of the day that Steve had spoken to the Winter Soldier.

"The 107th, Bucky's unit, was attacked in Syria shortly after deployment. It was an ambush with IEDs that the enemy had hidden along the roads. The explosion killed Bucky's entire unit and severed Bucky's left arm." He paused when Rebecca gasped, lifting a hand to cover her mouth. "They must have… they must have thought everyone was dead because they missed Bucky lying in the remains of the Humvee. An organization called Hydra found him. According to reports they scour battlefields across the world for soldiers left behind. Those soldiers get filed as MIA anyway and… no-one ever goes looking for them."

Winifred nodded, comprehension settling onto her features like a dark shadow.

Steve struggled to get himself to tell the rest of Bucky's tragic story. He wished he could leave out all the gruesome details and all the things that would give Rebecca nightmares, but they had a right to know. In fact, they needed to hear the entire story in order know how to act appropriately around Bucky, to understand his reactions, his new and strange habits.

"As Bucky already said, Hydra was a Neo-Nazi organisation, infamous for its… its experiments on humans." Steve went on.

Winifred closed her eyes, paling.

"I can stop." Steve offered firmly.

She shook her head. "Go on Steven. He deserves for us to know the truth. When bad things happen to good people, looking away is like abandoning them. I refuse to look away when it comes to my son."

"I understand." Steve nodded, turning his attention to Rebecca, "And what about you?"

"I want to know too. I don't care how bad it is- at least Bucky won't be the only one who can't sleep at night."

"Alright." Steve nodded, forcing down the wave of tears that wanted to overwhelm him.

After a deep breath, he continued. "They cut off what was left of Bucky's arm and installed a new one. It's cybernetic, attached to his nervous system through electrical cables mimicking nerve paths."

There were other details like the lack of anesthesia or the fact that they had drilled the metal base for the arm into Bucky's torso that Steve chose to omit.

"Around the same time, they started to torture him with the goal of breaking his spirit."

Rebecca flinched, huddling closer to her mother for comfort while Steve pressed on, feeling bile rise into his throat when he thought about what the Winter Soldier had described to him- another thing he was going to omit.

"Once his spirits were broken… they started wiping his brain."

"What?" Winifred looked equally as mortified as she did confused, "How is that possible?"

Steve wished that she hadn't asked that, that he could spare them the details. But she'd cracked open that egg and Steve felt that refusing to divulge the information would make Winifred worry more than if she knew the truth.

"They invented a machine that gets strapped around the head. Using electrical currents, the brain is short-circuited. It's like whipping the motherboard on a computer. The amnesia is only temporary though because the brain heals itself over time, so they have to keep doing it over and over again to prolong the effects. Also, when the effects start wearing off, they have to repeat the process."

"That hurts, doesn't it?" Rebecca asked Steve in a small voice.

"Yeah."

Rebecca looked down at her lap, a few tears slipping from her eyes while her hands balled into angry fists. "How could they do something like that to him?"

"The world is full of horrible people, darling." Winifred tried to comfort Rebecca, pulling the petit girl onto her lap and wrapping her arms around her waist.

"Once they'd managed to wipe his mind they began conditioning him for certain behaviour."

"What kind of behaviour?" Winifred asked.

"Winifred, you really don't want to-."

"What did those bastards make my son do, Steven?"

Steve hesitated, staring at Winifred until he couldn't bear the sadness and urgency in her eyes any longer. He had to tell her. He owed this to her. If anyone deserved to know the truth about Bucky, it was his own mother.

"They forced him to kill people for them."

That was the last push Rebecca needed to fall off the edge. She clenched her jaw and began crying silently, anger keeping her sobs at bay until she had managed to bury her face in her mother's shirt.

Steve scrambled to find a more positive thing to tell the two women in hopes of comforting them. "SHIELD, the government security organization raided a Hydra base and found Bucky there. He was in cryo at the time so it-."

"They froze him?" Winifred whispered, looking close to tears now also.

"It was… easier to keep him stable that way. It was a sort of pause button. When they didn't need him, they froze him to keep him compliant."

"But SHIELD got him out?" Rebecca had removed her face from her mother's blouse, her eyes shimmering with hope.

"They did. They brought him to New York City and tried to talk to him to find out what had happened to him. For some reason Hydra had left his dog tags on him, maybe for identification purposes although Bucky no longer knew who he was, nor did the dog tags mean anything to him at the time."

"That's why you only brought him now, am I right?" Winifred surmised.

Steve nodded. "He was brought in two years ago and Sam, the VA councilor, was called to handle the case. I was helping Sam at the time, so he took me along with him. Bucky was categorized under veteran with an extreme case of PTSD. He was violent and tried to kill anyone who got too close to him."

"Except you." It wasn't a guess on Winifred's part; she had said it as though it was a certainty.

"He hurt me." Steve admitted with a wry smile. Automatically, his hand lifted to his throat, "But for some reason, he never quite managed to kill me although he had no idea who I was or who he was."

"But he remembers now?" Winifred asked.

"He's regained most of his memories, yes. It took a while and at the beginning he was still very impulsive and violent. Not anymore though. He hasn't had an episode for almost an entire year now. He still has normal PTSD-related flashbacks but nothing like before his rehab." Steve paused, directing his eyes to the backpack Bucky had left at Steve's feet, "This backpack is full of notebooks. He writes down all the memories that he cares about most in those books as he remembers them. He's still scared that he'll forget again, and he goes through the notebooks often to make sure he still remembers everything, but his memories have become stable and he can recall them whenever he wants."

"He's been through so much." Winifred muttered, glancing over at the balcony door for a short moment before looking at Steve with a gentle smile, "You've been through so much. I'm not quite sure how to thank you for everything you've done for Bucky."

"He would have done the same for me." Steve replied quickly without a hint of uncertainty, "I'd go through all of that again a thousand times over if I had to."

"We know. And that's why you're so incredibly special." Winifred insisted, "Bucky's always seen that part of you, you know."

"Well, he does have better eyesight than I do." Steve laughed, dodging the cushion that Rebecca threw at him.

The small group enjoyed that small moment of amusement, taking it in readily after such a heavy conversation. Eventually though, Rebecca spoke up, asking, "So… what do we do now?"

"I think the smartest move is to not talk to him about what happened to him." Steve answered, "Show him that you acknowledge it and that you accept him, metal arm and all- that's all he needs from you. Really, all he wants in normality."

Both women nodded fervently, a look of determination flashing across both their faces.

Raising his voice only slightly, Steve said, "We're done here Bucky, you can come back inside."

"There's no way he heard you say that." Rebecca challenged.

Steve cocked his eyebrow, smiling when he heard the door open.

"What the hell?" Rebecca muttered, gawking at her brother who walked into the room a little hesitantly.

Bucky was assessing the situation with darting, uncertain eyes, habit forcing his metal arm behind his back.

"What's gotten into you?" Winifred asked him, "You look like you've seen a ghost! Sit down James, we're not going to bite you."

"Or judge you." Rebecca chipped in, grinning at Bucky the way she always used to.

"What did you…?" Bucky looked at Steve with wide eyes.

"Everything except for the part with the enhancements because I thought you might enjoy showing off a little."

Steve's smile melted the tension in Bucky's body and he chuckled, striding over to the couch to settle down next to Steve again.

"Buck! Show us the arm!" Rebecca exclaimed, jumping up from the seat and hurrying over to kneel in front of Bucky, resting her hands on his legs.

Steve wasn't sure if Rebecca was quite as enthusiastic about the arm as she was letting on, but even if she was exaggerating her genuine interest a little- it would definitely do no harm to anyone.

Bucky looked astonished, his mouth opening and closing a few times dumbly while he failed to think of anything to say.

"C'mon! Before we grow old!" Rebecca rolled her eyes, shoving at him demandingly.

"Okay… sure. If you… want." Bucky looked utterly perplexed as he pulled off the hoodie, his muscles straining against the fabric of his white t-shirt.

"Oh my gosh! This is the coolest thing ever!" Rebecca grabbed a hold of Bucky's metal hand without the tiniest trace of disgust or fear, pulling it forward to inspect it, "Wait- can you feel this?" She shot him an assessing glance while she poked at the palm of his hand testingly.

"Uh… yeah." Bucky muttered bashfully, his cheeks going a little red.

"Move it! Move it!" Rebecca instructed, and Bucky did as he was told.

He opened and closed his hands a few times, wiggled his fingers and bent his elbow. Inevitably, the platelets moved to adjust to Bucky's movements and Rebecca's eyes grew impossibly wider.

"I am so jealous!" She whined, "Hey! Can I take a picture of your arm and post it on Snapchat? My friends are going to go crazy over this!"

"Uh…" Bucky averted his eyes, his cheeks turning an even darker shade of red, "Sure… I mean… I guess you could. If you want."

"If I want? You're like Luke Skywalker, Bucky! Luke freaking Skywalker!"

"Becca, stop harassing your brother like that." Winifred chided gently, shaking her head at her daughter's over-enthusiasm, which, Steve had realized by then, was completely genuine.

"But Mom! Did you see his arm?" Rebecca asked, holding up Bucky's heavy hand as if to prove a point.

Steve was watching the blush spread from Bucky's cheeks to his ears. Seeing Bucky blush was an unfamiliar sight, but he was determined to commit it to memory. Maybe he would draw it sometime.

He would definitely draw it sometime.

"Hey Buck?" Steve spoke up.

Bucky's head snapped around and his cheeks grew even darker when he remembered that Steve was there and that he was witnessing all of this. "Why don't you tell Rebecca about your enhancements?"

"Uh… well… they're nothing much…"

"Bucky can lift a car with one hand." Steve told Rebecca, grinning when Bucky shot him a dark look.

Rebecca on the other hand, looked like she was meeting one of the guys from One Direction, her eyes glowing with fascination, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

"Are you serious?" Rebecca gawked at Bucky, "Wait. Show me. Pick me up."

"You're getting all of this back, Stevie." Bucky muttered, ignoring Steve's subsequent laughter while he got up.

Rebecca was up on her feet too, stretching out her arms enthusiastically.

"How good's your balance?" Bucky asked her, still too flustered to put a lot of emotion into his trembling voice. "Pretty good. Why?"

"Here." He knelt down, lowering his lower left arm into a horizontal position, "Stand on my hand and arm."

"There's no way you could hold that." Rebecca insisted but did as she was told. Her hands found his shoulders, her fingers digging into the scar tissue on Bucky's left shoulder. He wanted to pull away from the uncomfortable sensation, but he stopped himself, concentrating on Rebecca instead. "Okay now hold on tight." He told her before getting up, keeping his lower arm at a ninety-degree angle to his upper arm.

The angle would make it impossible for any normal human to carry a lot of weight on the arm never mind an entire person, and yet Bucky managed to make it look effortless.

Winifred got up, her eyes wide with astonishment. She walked around the coffee table, studying Bucky and her daughter who was standing on Bucky's arm, cheering.

"That's impossible." She whispered, shaking her head, "What did they do to you?"

"They called it the super-soldier serum." Bucky explained, putting Becca down again slowly, "It gives me enhanced strength, speed, hearing and healing. Also, my metal arm is pretty strong all on its own too."

"So you're basically a superhero." Rebecca concluded.

Bucky frowned, the concept sending his mind for a loop before he decided that no, he couldn't possibly be a superhero.

"Pretty much, but then again I've always known Buck was a superhero." Steve's voice shattered Bucky's self-deprecating thoughts and the brunette laugh airily, leaning in to give Steve an adoring kiss without really thinking about what he was doing.

The shocked lack of reciprocation from Steve and the unanimous gasps from the women in the room yanked Bucky back to the reality of the situation and he realized, much to his embarrassment, that his mother and sister still thought that he was straight.

"You finally told him?!" Rebecca was the first to speak up, her hands wrestling Bucky into turning towards her. She was grinning, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

Bucky frowned, confused by his sister's question.

"You finally told Steve how you feel about him?" Rebecca tried again, calming down a little when she noted the puzzled look on her brother's face.

"How did you know?" Winifred worded Bucky's question on his behalf, smiling when Bucky gave her a thankful nod.

"We spoke about it before Bucky went off to basic. He was packing to leave. I came into his room and he was busy putting a picture of Steve into his wallet." Rebecca giggled at the memory, nudging Bucky as unsubtly as she could.

The ensuing blush that broke out across Bucky's face was proof enough that her words had successfully triggered the memory of the incident.

"You had to go and say that in front of Stevie, didn't ya?" Bucky muttered, blushing even more when Steve put his arm around his boyfriend, his warm laughter colouring the room in golden colours.

"I can't believe you forgot about that part." Rebecca laughed, punching her brother in the arm gently, old habits resurfacing like fond memories of summers spent hanging around Coney Island and Rockaway Beach.

"Yeah…" Bucky's body stilled, and he leaned into Steve more. After a short moment of obvious introspection, Bucky snapped out of it, looking over at Steve with a strange, almost giddy look on his face.

"Hey Steve…?"

"What's up Buck?"

"I think this was it." He gestured to everything around him, "This was the last piece." He laughed lightly, looking from Sam, to his mother and sister and then back at Steve.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked him, marvelling at how light-hearted Bucky looked all of a sudden, hoping that that look would last a very, very long time.

"I think I'm done. I'm finally done remembering." Bucky explained giddily and a face-splitting grin spread across his beaming face.

Oh my gosh so there it is, that's the end of Remembering. It kinda makes me sad that it's over because I spent so much time on this story!

Thank you guys SO MUCH for all your love and support! I thoroughly enjoyed writing this FF not just because of the great characters but also because I really, really enjoyed your reviews and hearing about your reactions. Thank you so much for reading! Again, if you have any requests or prompts, let me have 'em xD

Here are some random facts about the story that no-one asked for:

The story is 214 A4 pages long, I used the word "Bucky" 3518 times and "Steve" 3897 times while "Stevie" was only used 127 times.