I just want to say thanks to all my fantastic readers! Your encouragement has kept me going. Sorry this update took a little longer, but I was having some trouble making this work like I wanted it to, so I totally cheated, and threw in a little Darcy POV. Without ripping the whole thing apart, it was the only way to share everything I wanted to convey.

I think this is the end of this particular arc of the larger story. Bucky had to go through hell and a little redemption before he was anywhere close to being ready for a relationship, and his journey needed to be told.

Darcy was being held inside a building in the middle of the warehouse district. Or so S.H.I.E.L.D's information said and Stark confirmed. Steve had contacted the billionaire as soon as they were on the bike. The Avengers had been on route to Steve's apartment to help spring him, but were rerouting to Darcy's location, according to the terse update the captain barked at Bucky once he finished talking to Stark.

The motorcycle trip there was tense. Steve was angry silent and crazy worried about his girl. Bucky could sense all of that without even seeing his face. Between them, there was so much that hadn't been said, anger and hurt, but it was never in question that Bucky would help and Steve needed that help.

He felt dread coiling in his stomach. Steve was so angry and so worried about Darcy that he might do exactly what S.H.I.E.L.D feared, and go on a vindictive rampage. America needed Captain America, in this dark day and age, and Captain America needed to be tarnish free. But wasn't that why Bucky was here? No one cared about his image; it was already tarnished beyond salvation. He could do what needed to be done.

Still, the thought of taking up that mantle again had the bile rising in the back of his throat. What if he couldn't stop? What if he reverted to the monster he'd been?

Some deep part of him ached at the thought of Steve holding on to the Winter Soldier gear. It felt like a betrayal. Was Steve just waiting for him to revert? Had he anticipated S.H.I.E.L.D's desire to utilize the assassin skills? Did he…did he support that idea?

The questions twisted painfully in his gut without answer. Bucky bowed his head, body shifting automatically with the movements of the motorcycle. It was too much he didn't want to think about. They needed to get to Darcy and make sure she was safe. That was all that mattered.

He was too lost in his own problems to register where they were until he felt Steve shifting in front of him. Bucky looked up, internal switch flipping back to assassin mode without even a thought, and barely had time to swear and draw his guns.

Steve preferred the direct approach, it seemed.

He reached up to unhook the shield from Steve's back, legs gripping the motorcycle tight even as they sped toward a warehouse door. Steve wasn't stopping, he was accelerating, and Bucky readied himself for anything.

He felt rather than saw Steve throw something at the warehouse door. Some type of explosive device, Bucky realized, as he watched it stick to the door. Fiery lines flared out from it and then flashed brightly. When Steve gunned the motorcycle right at the burned out spot, Bucky braced himself.

The bike shuddered when it hit the door, but the flash burned metal buckled inward and they were through. Bucky grimaced as a shattered piece of metal dragged along his real arm, and nearly dropped the gun and shield. His conditioning took over, eyes scanning the interior of the warehouse impossibly fast, identifying targets. There were 20 thugs.

Something on the motorcycle gave up with a pang of overstressed metal, it swerved sharply, and Bucky tumbled free. He lost his grip on the shield in the middle of a roll, and popped to his feet. Bullets were already flying toward him, but he was light on his feet and fast, zigzagging in an advance pattern. He wouldn't shoot until…there she was!

Darcy was slumped against one wall, sitting on the floor, hands tied in front of her, with tear tracks down her cheeks. Hope lit up like a beacon in her eyes when she saw who had just crashed into the warehouse. One of the mercenaries stood over her, gun pointed toward the intruders, shouting out orders that didn't make much sense.

The wreckage of the bike flew past Bucky's left shoulder, knocking down at least five thugs, and seconds later, the shield flew past his right, taking out another thug. Steve appeared on his right, arm extended to catch the shield as it bounced back to him, eyes fixed on Darcy. He had no gun in his hands, which was probably a good thing.

"You stay clean," Bucky hissed at him. "You let me do any wetwork."

Steve shot him a hard glance, but then had to focus on the remaining mercenaries, who were advancing with guns blazing.

Fighting at Steve's side, despite everything that had happened since they had last done it, was like operating a well-oiled machine. It was smooth and easy, and everything else seemed to melt away. There was a clear objective in front of them, and bad guys all around, and a need to stay alive until the objective was reached.

Bucky drew his guns, still gracefully sliding away from bullets, and looked to Steve for the offer. It always happened and Steve didn't disappoint. In his ringing Captain voice, he advised the men with the guns to lay down their weapons and their lives would be spared. Steve didn't expect them to, and when they didn't, he gave Bucky the nod.

Three well placed shots brought down three men. Bucky ducked as one man got too close, desperately swinging his now empty gun at Bucky's head. Assassin skills took over, guns tucked into his belt, hands shooting out to snatch the empty gun from the man's hands. He followed through with a quick jab to the man's temple, rendering him unconscious. The guns were pulled back out, even as he backtracked to Steve, who was fighting three men at once. Bucky helpfully clubbed one in the temple with the butt of his gun and Steve smoothly took down the other two.

The remaining men retreated, squeezing off desperate shots if they still had ammo.

The man who'd been barking desperate orders grabbed Darcy by the arm, hauling her to her feet and pressing a gun to her temple. Bucky spat out a curse as Steve froze, ignoring everything else but his girl, and took a bullet in the shoulder. Darcy shrieked as Steve dropped, blood blossoming immediately on the uniform. Bucky didn't hesitate, squeezing off one round that took the leader in the middle of the forehead. Darcy screamed as the mercenary crumbled, pulling her down with him, out of the line of fire.

Tamping down all thoughts and emotions, Bucky took the rest of the mercenaries out in less than five seconds, ignoring the bullets whizzing by him. At his feet, Steve groaned, and Bucky glanced down even as he squeezed off his last shot.

Pain struck him like a freight train in the ribs. Bucky exhaled sharply, taking an off step balance backward, cursing himself for his own moment of inattention. Lucky shot from the now-dead merc he had just dropped. Armor piercing bullet. Shit.

He watched Darcy pull herself free from the dead leader and scramble across the room to Steve, throwing her arms around him. "You're shot!" Her voice was high and shrill.

"I'll heal," he assured in a shaky voice, reaching up to cup her face with both hands. "Are you okay?"

There was such raw emotion in Steve's voice and in Darcy's small distressed sounds as she touched his face that Bucky turned away. Physical pain had nothing on what he felt right now.

A little late to the party, the Avengers burst onto the scene, ripping the warehouse door open from the outside. Bucky relaxed, finally lowering his gun. As Steve's teammates swarmed into the warehouse, Bucky faded into a corner, watching. Nothing else existed to Steve and Darcy in that moment. They were completely focused on each other to the exclusion of everything else around them. It…it was hard to watch.

Steve had found a place to fit into this century, with his teammates and Darcy. It felt like something out of Bucky's reach, and he didn't want to stick around to watch anymore.

No one noticed when he slipped out of the warehouse.

Going back to his S.H.I.E.L.D cell/apartment was not an option, nor was returning to Steve and Darcy's place. Bucky kept a watchful eye out for agents, hostiles or Avengers as he melted into the night, leaving it all behind.

He kept to side streets and alleys, trading the guns in at a shady looking pawnshop for a change of clothing and some cash. Something kept him from giving up the Winter Soldier gear. He couldn't even acknowledge to himself why he did it, except maybe that Steve had kept it for a reason, and maybe he should too. He changed in the backroom of the pawnshop, using wads of paper towels to patch over the bleeding gunshot wound. He was pretty sure there was a cracked rib too. Maybe even a punctured lung, based on his wheezing breath. The Winter Soldier gear went into a plastic bag, and Bucky left the pawnshop owner a generous tip for the use of his back room.

Pain was beginning to overwhelm him, both emotional and physical. Bucky wanted to forget. All those memories of his time as the Winter Soldier were more immediate now. All the atrocities, the cold-blooded killings…it was all in his head now.

He swung into a bar and used his remaining cash to buy two bottles of hard stuff. Unlike Steve, he could get drunk. It would help him forget. For a little while at least.

Darcy clutched at Steve, ignoring the blood seeping from his shoulder, taking a few precious moments to feel safe. The last few hours had been terrifying. She'd been on her way to Stark Tower and had stopped at the coffee shop, like normal. When she walked out, there was a circle of rough looking men standing there. Waiting for her, obviously. Darcy did the only thing she could think of, and threw her coffee at them. It bought her maybe two seconds before they grabbed her. Since then, she had learned too much.

Moment of feeling safe over, she had to convey what she knew. She sat back, breath still huffing a little.

"Steve. Steve!"

He was trembling, gloved hands stroking her arms and face. "It's okay, he said shakily. "You're okay."

Darcy shook her head. "It wasn't about you!" she blurted.

Suddenly she was the focus of too much attention. Steve's Captain face took over, and Stark, Thor and Barton were right there behind him.

Steve cupped her face. "What do you mean? They grabbed my girl. That feels pretty damn much about me."

He rarely swore and that alone told her how upset and scared he'd been. Yeah, Darcy could relate to that. She took a deep breath. "They were going to kill me," she said softly. "So I was disposable, and they didn't care what they said."

Steve's eyes narrowed, lips thinning in anger. "And?"

Darcy licked her lips nervously. "Whoever was giving orders…they have a grudge against you from something that happened a long time ago."

"How long?" Stark interrupted.

Darcy frowned at the billionaire. "Before he was frozen. So part of the reason I was grabbed was with an eye toward revenge. But mostly…mostly they wanted you too busy worrying about me so they could take Bucky."

Steve pulled back from her like he'd been slapped, eyes growing comically wide. "Bucky? Why?"

She swallowed hard. "They wanted the Winter Soldier. They were holding me until they got confirmation that he was in custody and cooperating."

Steve's eyes lit with anger. "Bucky would never cooperate with that!"

"That's the other reason they grabbed me. So he would."

Steve rose to his feet. "Not a chance." He looked around past his teammates, blinked and frowned, then looked again. "Bucky?"

Darcy used his leg as a climbing post to pull herself up. "Steve? I saw him here with you. Bucky?" She looked around frantically. "Steve…where is he?"

A flurry of activity followed. Stark was barking orders at his AI to hack traffic cameras to try to get eyes on Bucky. Darcy just twisted her hands anxiously. He was out there, alone, with some serious goons looking to grab him and use him for assassin purposes.

Steve was just as worried, especially when he saw the blood droplets where Bucky had been standing, and then apparently faded back against a wall. All while Darcy had eyes for nothing else but Steve and the safety he represented. She had completely ignored Bucky's presence! How much of his disappearance had to do with feeling…unloved? Unimportant? Unnoticed?

It made Darcy feel sick to her stomach. He was so fragile emotionally, and she knew that he felt very strongly about both of them. They were his base, his foundation. Just as he was their completion. And she had completely ignored him.

Her feelings for Bucky were jumbled and confused. He'd very swiftly become just as important to her as he was to Steve, and she didn't want to be without him. Steve didn't either. It hurt him terribly when Bucky left them, leaving him incomplete again. When they'd come busting through the warehouse doors together, Steve was whole. Angry and scared, but whole, without that deep emptiness and loneliness that had always been part of him before.

Realizing that Steve wasn't a whole person without Bucky, and that her relationship with Steve was fragile at best without him was…strange. Before Bucky, Darcy knew she would always fall secondary to Steve's memories. She'd held onto him desperately tight, because it felt like she held a shadow. But when Bucky had returned, suddenly Steve was complete. His passion for life, without that deep abiding sadness, had spilled over into their relationship and made it much stronger. When Bucky left them, the sadness returned, and this time it affected her as well.

It was…empty…without him. And that scared her. What did it say about her relationship with Steve that it didn't feel right without Bucky being there? And that wasn't fair to Bucky. She remembered how he had held onto her when she'd visited him, body trembling, and then pulled away and told her to go back to Steve. Maybe it had made a little sense then, why he left them. 'Them' was too hard for him to deal with.

Darcy pulled a blanket tighter around her shoulders. Steve was pacing angrily back and forth, itching for action. He still wasn't used to Stark's way of doing things, preferring action to computers, but he wouldn't really have a hope of finding Bucky just by going out and looking.

If Natasha were here, she'd track him down right away. The woman was scary like that. But she was not with the Avengers. Clint was standing near the door, talking on his cell phone, looking more and more agitated by the moment. Darcy had overheard him say Natasha's name, so knew he was talking to the redhead, but it didn't look like a pleasant conversation.

There were police milling about, finishing up with the scene. Steve had been adamant about not calling in S.H.I.E.L.D. He was very angry about being detained, and was itching to have a long conversation with Fury about it. It didn't help that Stark had kept needling him about it. Stark didn't trust Fury or S.H.I.E.L.D, and he wanted everyone to see things his way. So Steve had Jarvis call the police instead of S.H.I.E.L.D, and had invoked his full authority as Captain America when they arrived, to explain what had happened.

It wasn't the first time Darcy had seen dead bodies, but it was the first time she'd seen people gunned down in real life. It wasn't like Hollywood showed it, unless watching the grittier stuff. Blood and stuff had exited the bodies in a spray when Bucky shot them. It was his reaction to it all that had touched her more than the killings though. He was emotionless and precise, like…like an assassin. It hadn't escaped her attention that he had been wearing the Winter Soldier clothes. Steve had kept them. She wasn't really sure why, and she was going to ask him about it, once Bucky was safe.

Clint's angry shout drew everyone's attention, and Darcy followed Steve over to the archer.

"What is it?"

Barton turned to face them. "Tasha shipped out yesterday morning, on a mission that Fury was ordered to personally oversee, by the council. It was in Calcutta. When they got there, the mission was scrubbed and Fury was told to wait for orders."

Darcy watched Steve's face flicker through several emotions. "To get Fury out of the way?"

Barton nodded grimly. "That's what Tasha thinks. They're on their way back now."

Just then, Stark shouted in triumph. "Found him, Capsicle. Wow…he doesn't look so good."

Steve looked down at Darcy. "I'll bring him back," he promised.

She nodded. "Don't let him run."

"I won't. We need him." For a moment, there was acknowledgement in Steve's eyes of … something. They would talk about it later.

Bucky looked up blearily from his position on the ground in a dark alley, and heaved a sigh. He was pleasantly numb, but shit was about to hit the fan. "Steve," he greeted, lifting the bottle to take another swig. It was smacked out of his hands and shattered on the ground. What a waste.

"That was rude," he pointed out. Lucky for him, he had another bottle tucked in behind him. That one didn't fare any better when he pulled it out, shattering on the building across the alley. Apparently, Steve was pissed.

Bucky inhaled deeply. "So?"

Steve reached down and grabbed him by the collar of his coat, hauling Bucky to his feet. Oops, no, it wasn't Steve. It was Captain America standing in front of him. Steve didn't Captain him often, only when he was very angry. And right now, he looked very angry.

"I said we had to talk after she was safe." Every word was bitten off, like Steve was fighting the impulse to shout.

Bucky shrugged. "Nothing really to talk about, punk. We rescued her, she's safe."

Steve's face twisted. "What are you doing, Buck? You say terrible things to us so we won't stop you when you want to get away. You willingly put yourself back into S.H.I.E.L.D's custody just to get away from us. All the progress you made with us starts to deteriorate. You completely destroy your S.H.I.E.L.D apartment!" He shook his head. "But as soon as you heard about Darcy and me, you came back to save us. So what are you doing now?"

How could he even articulate the conflicted feelings he had for both of them? "I told ya I'd follow ya into hell if necessary," he said softly. "I meant that. I'd take on the devil himself to save you or Darcy, because you pulled me back out of the abyss and I love you both."

"But you just don't want to live with us? Why not?"

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut. "I can't be around the 'us' part, Steve. Don't know how you put up with it, back in the day. Me always having a dame on my arm. It was pretty shitty of me."

Steve shook his head, eyes fixed on his. "Never cared much about that, Buck. I was just grateful that I got to spend more time with you."

Well that just hurt. "I'm not that strong, Steve. I…I miss being the most important person in your life. It's selfish of me, but…"

Steve stared at him for a long time, different emotions warring with each other on his face. "You're not any less important to me than Darcy is, Buck."

He shook his head, pulling away. Watching their closeness was too much. "It's different. I still can't do it. Just…just let me go, Steve." When he turned to walk off in another direction, Steve slapped a hand hard against his ribs.

"You don't get to run away again!"

Shit. Lights exploded in front of Bucky's eyes. That really hurt. Of course Steve managed to hit the gunshot wound that hadn't started to heal yet. Bucky exhaled sharply in a wet cough. "Dammit Steve." He tried to take a breath, and coughed again. Wetly, with flecks of blood flying from his lips.

Dimly, he heard Steve calling for help, saw the wide eyed shock on his friend's face, even felt the hands on his arms holding him upright, but it was dim and growing dimmer. Bucky welcomed the darkness. It was much easier than consciousness at this point.

Bucky swam up out of darkness. It was a good waking, one of those sleeps without dreams. He felt refreshed, like himself again.

Before any other senses kicked in, he smelled coffee. The usual, of course. So he knew right where he was. Memories took a little longer to surface. Once they did, he wasn't sure if he wanted to be awake.

"Don't pretend to still be asleep," Steve's voice told him. "That doesn't work, remember?"

Strangely enough, he did. When they were burning out Hydra's bases, traveling all over Europe with the Commandos, Bucky and Steve had shared a tent. The nightmares had already started. Back then, it was Zola's leering dwarf face , and what he'd done, that haunted Bucky's sleep. He didn't want to worry Steve though, so he acted as if everything was normal. Tried to pretend that he was sleeping, but it never worked. Steve always knew. And if Steve ever wondered about the unnatural dependency on him that Bucky developed during that time…

He'd always been the lady's man, the one with options, because he wasn't a 90 pound severe asthmatic shrimp. He was the strong one. When the roles were reversed…Bucky wasn't quite sure how to deal with that. Everyone looked to Steve for answers, and any women they encountered practically swooned. Even though Steve only had eyes for Peggy. Steve was bigger than life though, and uncomfortable in his own skin, and it was oddly…appealing. He was Bucky's sanity, and the light in the dark places that Zola had dug into and opened up inside of him.

Bucky cracked his eyes open. Steve was sitting beside the bed in a kitchen chair, feet propped up on the bed. He looked relaxed and edgy at the same time.

"Thanks for going right for the gunshot and broken ribs, punk."

Steve winced and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, sorry about that. It wouldn't have happened if you hadn't been trying to run, though."

Bucky shrugged. "Safest option."

"Why didn't you call me when they tried to recruit you?"

Bucky looked up sharply at the hurt tone. He didn't like being the focus of Steve's disapproving scowl though, and looked away. "My problem. Not yours."

"Like hell," Steve responded tightly. "This whole mess could have been avoided. That's why they grabbed Darcy. They wanted my attention elsewhere, and wanted to guarantee your compliance."

He felt like vomiting suddenly. His instincts had been right. Suit had set the whole thing up just to grab him, but hadn't counted on loose lips, and Bucky coming back to life once he had a purpose. It would have worked. He would have agreed to anything to keep Darcy safe, or Steve.

He sat up, wincing only a little at the pain in his side. It was healing nicely, and he could feel tape around his torso, holding things steady. Somebody had patched him up.

"S.H.I.E.L.D was behind this whole thing," he spit out.

Steve nodded. "Not S.H.I.E.L.D so much as the World Security Council. Someone on the council sent Fury on a wild goose chase to get him out of the way so they could do this. But they didn't count on you breaking out." He looked down then, avoiding Bucky's gaze. "I know you didn't want to come back here, and I think I understand why, but I had to keep you safe. I couldn't let them grab you."

There was more he wasn't saying. Steve was never very good at articulating how he felt. Then again, Bucky didn't have any room to judge. He held everything inside as well. It was a guy thing.

For a minute, or maybe three, neither of them said anything. Then Bucky finally had to ask – "So, why did you keep the clothes?"

Steve looked sheepish, ducking his head. "I thought that once Fury cleared you, you could come work with me, like old times. And…I thought maybe you'd feel more comfortable in clothes you knew."

A noise at the door of Bucky's bedroom had both of them looking up. Darcy stood there with coffee mugs in hand and a tentative smile. "I told him how bad of an idea that was," she assured, walking in to distribute coffee. Bucky didn't quite make grabby hands at her, but it was a close thing.

Bucky sipped, feeling the peace he always felt with the coffee, because so much else came with it. "Which part did you think was a bad idea, pumpkin? Me working with him again, or him thinking I would want to wear those clothes while doing it?"

She rolled her eyes. "Which one do you think, Barnes? Obviously, the two of you work together very well. Doofus here just didn't think about what memories those clothes could bring up." Her expression reflected exactly what she thought of that.

Interesting. Steve's ears were getting red, and if he ducked his head any further, he was going to cave in his chest. Apparently, Darcy had given him an earful. "Why…why did you keep them?" he finally blurted out, glancing up at Bucky from under his long lashes.

He shrugged. "Because you did, and I didn't know why."

Darcy rolled her eyes, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "The two of you are hopeless." She sipped her coffee and leaned back against Bucky's good side, avoiding the side that was healing. "Thank you for busting Steve out, and coming for me," she said softly.

Bucky exhaled, staring down at the top of her head. "I…I had to. I'd do it again."

"We need you with us," she said softly, eyes fixed on Steve. "We're not…complete…without you."

Shit. That was low of her. Guilt tripping him into staying, but she didn't realize what it would do to him. Then again, being by himself…well…it really had been worse. He didn't feel complete without them either.

"Want you working with me," Steve told him in a rough voice, not looking at him. "Fury owed me big time. He couldn't say no to anything I asked. You're clear. If you want to go, if you can't stand being around us, then you can go. I want you to stay. Work with me. Still need to track down who was behind all of this, and I can't think of anyone I'd rather have watching my back."

Bucky swallowed hard. "Not even your new buddies? Not Stark?"

"Hell no. They're great, but I'm just getting to know them. They've got nothing on my history with you. I'll follow the guy that follows me and protects my girl any day."

It wouldn't be easy, Bucky reflected, but he'd been through the alternative and it had sucked. Maybe he would feel differently on a day when the nightmares were pulling at his sanity, but right now, he didn't want to be alone again. And he had his freedom now, so if he wanted to go out and get laid, he would.

"Could you do me one favor, pumpkin?" he asked.

Darcy tilted her head back so she could look up at him. "Yeah?"

Bucky shot a hesitant look at Steve, then looked back down at her. "Can you try to be quieter at night?"

For a second, she didn't seem to know what he was talking about, but then she flushed bright red. "Ohmigod Barnes. You are such an ass." She sipped her coffee furiously. "Am I that loud?" she finally asked in a small voice.

Bucky exhaled. "Yeah. You really are."

Steve was even redder than Darcy. He coughed uncomfortably. "Does that mean you'll stay?"

Suddenly, Bucky's coffee was very interesting. "For now. I…I didn't do so well by myself."

Darcy nearly spilled her own coffee and his when she wiggled around and threw her arms around him. "I saw that," she deadpanned. "We missed you."

For the first time in a month, Bucky felt closer to whole again. When Steve leaned over and circled both of them with his arms, then everything felt just perfect.