Hey folks!

I originally got this idea from the Marvel comic story A-Babies vs. X-Babies #1, where baby Cyclops kidnaps baby Captain America's Bucky Bear. And then, I happened to find that photo that I'm using for my cover on the internet, with Sebastian Stan holding an actual Bucky Bear (there were people in the background of the original photo but I blacked it out), and I just HAD to write this. I meant it to be total Humor, but it got a bit angsty, because everything I try to write gets angsty X3

Bromance, but there could be hints of Stucky if you want to squint a bit.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own these amazing characters. Nor do I own that amazing photo of Sebastian that I am using as the cover for this story. Nor do I own a Bucky Bear :/

Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

~ 1 ~

When Steve woke in the hospital, it was to his whole body aching and throbbing and feeling unbearably heavy.

An unfamiliar song was playing, and when he turned his head the slightest amount to the right (and ouch that shouldn't hurt so much) he saw Sam sitting in a chair by his bed. The man seemed to have fallen asleep.

Turning his head back so he could relax against the pillow, Steve murmured, "On your left," with all the strength he could muster.

Even his throat hurt. Had he been screaming? No, drowning actually, if he remembered correctly, a pain erupting in his chest that had nothing to do with the bullet wound as he recalled Bucky's wild eyes and haggard face... and then Steve had fallen.

How had he survived?

Sam had woken at the softly spoken words, and turned to look at Steve with a small but relieved smile.

"Hey Steve," he said, keeping his own voice soft as though if he spoke too loudly it might hurt Steve's ears—which since everything else hurt, Steve couldn't see a reason why his ears wouldn't hurt, too. "How're ya feeling?"

Steve tried to chuckle, but quickly stopped when it aggravated his injuries and he gave a wince, which pulled at the stitches in his cheek.

"Like I got shot in the chest and run over by a tank," he replied honestly.

"And then almost drowned?" Sam added lightly.

"About that," Steve murmured, letting his eyes drift closed against the too-bright room, "How did I survive?"

"You were washed up on the beach," Sam answered.

Steve frowned. Which hurt, so he stopped. What was the last thing he remembered?

There was Bucky, metal arm poised. There was the sensation of falling, the sensation of his body being embraced by water and the taste of it in his mouth like guilt and sorrow. And then darkness... a glimpse of light, a gasp of air, the sensation of his body being dragged painfully over warm sand and sunlight on his skin, a moment of consciousness where he tried to drag open his eyelids a sliver and caught but a glimpse of a a dark silhouette, a flash of silver, red...

Bucky.

When Bucky had fallen from the train all those years ago Steve had failed to save him. But when Steve fell from the helicarrier, Bucky had saved him.

Something in Steve's chest clenched painfully.

"You're a lucky chap," Sam told him. "But hey," he continued, bending down to pick up a box at his feet. "Someone sent you a Get Well Present. It's from New York. You feelin' good enough to open it, or do you wanna sleep some more?"

Steve pried his eyes open again, saying with conviction, "I'm tired of sleeping."

"Okay," Sam said, as Steve turned his face towards him and tried to reach an arm towards the package, except that his limb didn't quite cooperate. His hand raised ever so slightly from the mattress, fingers twitching, before it collapsed back down.

Steve groaned. "I hate being incapacitated."

"Here, how about I open the present for you?" Sam offered helpfully.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Sam said, as he took out a pocket knife and cut the tape, opening the cardboard box. Inside was a Get Well Soon card with a cute blond puppy dog on it, and a bunch of blue tissue paper.

"Should I read the card?"

Steve nodded.

"Hey Capsicle," Sam read, "I heard about what happened. Sucks. Although you should get over it soon, what with you being a supersoldier and everything. Still, I was going to send you some flowers, but they don't ship too well, so instead I got you something more lasting. Kidnapped it for you especially. As like a 'don't give up hope,' sort of thing, because I've done my homework and I know how stupid you are when it comes to him. And if you tell me you're too old for the present, than I will mock you mercilessly for being an old man. Hugs and kisses, Tony Awesome Stark. P.S. You're welcome. So you don't need to send me a Thank You card."

Sam looked at Steve, raising his eyebrows.

"It's Tony," Steve supplied, as if that answered everything. Which it kind of did. "So what's in the box?" Steve tried to keep the curiosity out of his voice, but being Steve, he utterly failed to do so. Utterly.

Rifling through the tissue paper, Sam pulled something out. He stared at it for a moment with an unreadable expression on his face.

"What is it?" Steve asked again, eagerly, craning his neck to try to see the object in Sam's hands.

Wordlessly, Sam held it up: a large brown teddy bear wearing a red and blue uniform and a black domino mask around its eyes.

Steve's breath hitched, but he didn't even register the pain the movement caused his chest injuries.

"It's a Bucky Bear," he said.

"A what?" Sam asked in confusion.

But Steve's arm, that had hardly been able to twitch a moment earlier, had already shot out and snatched the bear from Sam's grasp, hugging it close to him.

"Mine," Steve said, voice lowered in warning.

Sam held up his hands. "Yours," he acknowledged. He watched for a moment while Steve stroked the bear's soft brown ears. "So, why did Stark say that he kidnapped it? He didn't steal it, did he?"

"No, that was Tony's idea of a joke," Steve answered, snorting slightly, lips tilting upwards at the corners. "He was referencing the old Captain America comics where they made Bucky my teenage sidekick who got kidnapped all the time. Bucky threw a fit about it back during World War II when we got a hold of some of them. Ranted for all of five minutes before he started laughing."

Steve's blue eyes were decades away for a moment as he flashed a quick smile, ignoring the twinge as it tugged on his stitches, before it faded from his face slow as a sunset and he dropped into a contemplative silence.

He hugged the Bucky Bear closer.

"I have to find him," he murmured, hardly more than a breath. "I can't let him fall again. I can't fail again."

Sam reached out to touch Steve's shoulder gently. "Don't worry, we'll find him. I know it. But for now, you should try to get some rest."

Steve nodded reluctantly, closing his eyes. There a few minutes of silence, and just when Sam thought that Steve had fallen asleep, the supersoldier spoke again, quietly.

"Bucky's eyes are blue."

"Huh?" Sam asked, eyebrows coming together as he turned to look at his friend.

"The bear's eyes are brown," Steve said, his eyes still closed, voice blurring at the edges with the beginning traces of sleep. "But Bucky's eyes are blue."

~ 2 ~

Accidents happen to everyone. Even supersoldiers. And especially to supersoldiers when it is their first run after getting out of the hospital and their muscles are still aching and not quite back to their usual fine-tuned strength and control.

But the best way, Steve knew, to work the soreness out of his muscles, was to move them.

So he was out running. It was morning, the sun not quite up and the world was still tinted blue, and the chill of the air brushing through his hair and across his skin was a welcome sensation. His heart beat, his lungs flexed, the muscles in his arms and legs pumped, his feet pounded the pavement.

And not once since he had received the Bucky Bear had he left it out of his sight, and so he was carrying it with him as he ran.

He was carrying it with him as he thought he saw a glimpse of silver in the shadows between the trees in the park, and as he swiftly turned his head to look back with his eyes widened in hope, he failed to see the rogue Hydra agent until he crashed straight into the man who had stepped into his path with a machine gun.

"Sorry, that was an accident," Steve said, as they tumbled to the ground and he punched the man in the face, knocking him out. "But you should really watch where you're going. You might hurt someone."

And then agents were swarming seemingly from out of nowhere—had he really been that distracted he hadn't noticed them?—and he tossed Bucky Bear a safe distance away and ducked to avoid a hail of bullets.

People were screaming and running away.

"There are civilians here," Steve growled angrily, as dispatched the agents with practiced efficiency, rolling, flipping, punching, kicking. "Next time you want to pick a fight, would you mind taking it somewhere private?"

They'd caught him when he was still recovering from injuries and without his shield, but still they had underestimated him.

He was dodging the bullets that were everywhere. So many bullets, he didn't notice the shots that came out of the trees and felled Hydra agents before they made contact with Steve or he made contact with them. Just suddenly, all the Hydra agents were down and Steve was standing there, panting softly, looking around at the dozens or men lying prostrate around him.

"Well, thanks for the warm-up, fellas," he said, rolling his shoulders. "That was even better than running."

The sun had risen fully now, bright and white and warm. Sirens were wailing high and piercing, getting louder, closer.

But when the police showed up, Steve was already gone.

He walked along the grass, scouring the expanse of lush green for any sign of red and blue.

Now where was that bear? he thought, frowning. He knew he threw it over here. An irrational amount of panic clenched in his gut.

It's just a bear, he pointed out to himself.

Bucky Bear.

The thought popped into his head that, oh God, Bucky Bear had been kidnapped, and how was he supposed to help Bucky if he couldn't even keep track of a teddy bear.

He kept looking.

"Honey, where did you get that bear?"

Steve turned to see a mother talking to her daughter, the little blond girl hugging Bucky Bear to her chest.

"I saved him from the men with the guns," the girl said, with all the angelic sincerity of a young child.

"Well honey, he's not yours."

"But he was alone!"

Coming over, Steve smiled kindly as the young girl and her mother turned to look at him.

The girl hugged Bucky Bear closer.

"Hey," Steve said, kneeling down. "I see you found my bear. Thank you for saving him back there, but I really need him back now."

The girl eyed him suspiciously. "This is your bear?"

"Yeah," Steve chuckled self-consciously. "He's my sidekick. Uh, for my sidekick—I got him for my friend's son, for his birthday. I was on my way back home with it when those men attacked, and I dropped it."

He didn't like lying. But how was he supposed to explain that a grown man was attached to a teddy bear?

The girl looked down at the bear, pursing her lips.

"Honey," the mother said, putting a hand on her daughter's shoulder, "Give the bear to the gentleman. Do you know who this is? He was the one who was fighting the men with the guns. This is Captain America."

Steve's cheeks flushed slightly, a light, pretty shade of pink that made the mother smile.

"Oh," the girl said, looking up at Steve with round blue eyes. "Okay. If anyone can take care of him, it's Captain America," she said fervently, mostly to herself. She looked up at him again, and her eyes had a note of anxiousness, pleading. "You will take care of him, right?"

Something in Steve's chest twisted. "Yeah," he answered.

"You promise?"

"I promise."

Her mother squeezed her shoulder, and the girl glanced down with teary eyes, pressing a kiss to the bear's soft brown forehead before handing him to Steve.

"Thank you," Steve said with a smile, as he started to stand up. He turned to walk away.

"Wait!" The girl cried, and he turned to look back. She was holding her mother's hand.

She nodded to the bear with those wet blue eyes. "Could you tell me his name?"

"Yeah," Steve smiled."His name is Bucky."

~ 3 ~

"So you've experienced this kind of thing before," Fury said, as he strolled up to where Steve and Sam were standing before the grave of Col. Nicholas J. Fury.

Steve's hands were tucked in his pockets, and Bucky Bear was under his left arm. "You get used to it," he said.

When Fury asked whether Steve would come to New York with him, Steve shook his head.

"I've got something I have to do first," he said, eyes flickering down to the bear he was holding.

Fury suppressed a sigh. "How about you, Wilson? I could use a man of your skills," he said, as he turned to the other man.

"I'm more of a soldier than a spy," Sam answered, politely declining. He glanced at Steve, who kept his gaze down on Fury's grave, the white flowers that smelled unctuously sweet, their aroma palpable and clinging to their bodies the way winter clung to the world with its numbing cold and blinding snow, unwilling to surrender to spring.

Fury just nodded his bald head, as if those were the answers he'd been expecting. "Well, if anybody asks for me, tell them they can find me," he nodded to his grave, "Right here."

He strolled away in his dark sunglasses just as Natasha walked up with her vivid orange hair flouncing around her shoulders.

"You should feel honored; that's about as close as he ever gets to saying Thank You," she remarked.

"So you're not going with him?" Steve asked.

"No," she said, her smile amused.

"But you're not staying here," Steve observed, raising his eyebrows slightly.

"I blew all my covers," Natasha said, dancing around the question. "I have to go figure out a new one."

"That might take a while."

"I'm counting on it," she smiled and took a few steps closer. "Oh, and that thing you asked for? I called in a few favors from Kiev."

Natasha reached into her black leather jacket and pulled out a vanilla folder, handing it to Steve, who took it with a tingling combination of hope and apprehensiveness. Standing on her toes, Natasha pulled Steve's head down and kissed him softly on the cheek, like would a sister.

"Do me a favor though?" she said, smirking. "Call that nurse."

Steve couldn't help but make a face at her. "I'm too busy for a date," he argued. "I have things to do. Responsibilities—"

He abruptly stopped talking when Natasha smiled sweetly at him and held up his Bucky Bear.

"Give him back," Steve said, narrowing his eyes, voice eerily close to a growl.

"Nope, I rightfully kidnapped him," Natasha said, still smiling, infuriatingly sweet. "And I'm holding him ransom until you call the nurse."

"What, right now?!" Steve protested.

"Right now," Natasha smiled.

"But I don't even know her name," Steve said, frustrated, his gaze slipping back to Bucky Bear and set with a strange amount of protectiveness. "Not to mention her phone number."

"Her name's Sharon," Natasha supplied, hugging Bucky Bear with both arms and noticing how Steve's jaw ticked. "She's nice. And I already programmed her number into your phone."

Steve was making a low, whining, keening sound, like a puppy dog left outside. "Give me back Bucky Bear," he ordered.

"Not until you call Sharon," Natasha smiled, stroking Bucky Bear's fluffy brown ears. She turned Bucky Bear to face her and trace his black domino mask with a finger. "He's quite cute, isn't he?"

She kissed his nose.

Steve was definitely growling now.

Sam, who had been standing back and not getting involved for fear of losing a limb, finally decided to step in, in order to make sure that nobody ended up losing a limb.

"Whoa there buddy," Sam said, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Just call Sharon. Natasha isn't going to hurt your Bucky Bear."

Steve glared coldly at the assassin for a moment, jaw clenched, before gritting out, "Fine," and pulling his phone out of his pocket.

Even as he searched through his contact list and found that, indeed, a 'Sharon Carter' was listed there, he kept an eye on Natasha and Bucky Bear out of the corner of his eye.

He pressed the call button, brought the phone up to his ear.

It rang.

And rang.

And rang.

Finally: "Hello, you've reached Sharon Carter's cell. Sorry I can't answer right now, but feel free to leave a message." Bzzzzt.

Steve pulled the phone away from his face. "She didn't pick up," he told Natasha.

"Then leave a message!" the redhead hissed, rolling her eyes.

Scowling, Steve brought the phone back to his ear.

"Hi neighbor," he said, which caused Natasha to glare at him. He ignored her. "I was just thinking that, uh, I mean, I'm pretty busy at the moment and, uh, for like the next few weeks my schedule is completely booked, but, uh, I have a bit of free time not this Friday or the Friday after that but the Friday after that, so if, you know, you're around and don't have anything better to do... although I may need to raincheck that if something pops up... but well, I found your scrubs in my washing machine the other day and you kind of owe me a coffee. So uh, yeah. Bye."

He hung up.

Natasha was staring at him with a deadpan, and Sam was doing his best not to burst out laughing, except that his best wasn't very good and he was grinning and shaking silently with mirth.

"That has got to be the worst way I have ever heard anyone ask a girl out on a date," Natasha stated.

"Yeah, well, I did it," Steve said, his voice back to low and growling. "Now give him back."

Natasha sighed. "He really is cute," she admitted, though it wasn't clear as to whether she was referring to Bucky Bear or to the man Bucky himself, as she extended the bear out, Steve snatching him out of her hands.

Steve clutched Bucky Bear protectively.

"You're really out of sorts over him," she observed. "I'd warn you that you might not want to pull on that thread..." she nodded to the vanilla folder held tightly under Steve's arm, "But I think it's obvious that you're worse than a cat."

She turned and began walking away, before pausing, glancing back. Her green-hazel eyes traveled from Steve's determined expression to the bear in his arms, softening slightly. "But... good luck."

She turned and kept walking. "You're going to need it."

Steve looked down at the folder, flipping it open to see the face of the Winter Soldier frozen inside a cryo-tube, and a smaller black-and-white picture of the Bucky Barnes he had known staring out at him with light eyes unburdened yet by winter and pain and death.

Sam's presence behind him was tangible and warm.

"You don't have to come with me," Steve said, not lifting his gaze from Bucky's face.

"I know," came Sam's voice. A pause. "When do we start?"

Steve closed the folder and looked up, blue eyes bright and determined.

"Right now."

~ 4 ~

The search for Bucky was on.

The Winter Soldier file had given them a few leads, and as it turned out, searching for information on Bucky and weeding out the remnants of Hydra were missions so compatible as to be nearly one and the same.

And so that was how Captain America and Falcon found themselves in a commandeered Shield jet chasing a Hydra aircraft over the Atlantic Ocean.

Turned out that though Sam may not have been a pilot, he could co-pilot well enough.

Sam glanced at Steve. "Where'd you learn to fly a plane?" he asked.

"World War II," Steve answered simply, as he looked down at the radar. "Didn't you know that I when they found me frozen in the arctic I was in the cockpit of a crashed jet?"

"Yeah, well, being found in a crashed plane would usually suggest that you didn't know how to fly it," Sam pointed out.

Steve snorted. "Red Skull's fault."

"Of course."

"We're gaining on them," Steve said, after checking the radar again. "Start getting suited up."

"Aye Captain," Sam said, leaving the cockpit to go put on his metal wings, calling back, "Hey, you're not bringing the bear again this time, are you?"

"We already went over that," Steve intoned. "I'm not leaving Bucky Bear behind."

"You know, he's gonna end up a casualty sometime," Sam pointed out reasonably, giving a grunt as he pulled on the falcon apparatus and zipped the jacket on.

"No, he's not," Steve said firmly.

Steve couldn't see him, so Sam rolled his eyes.

The Hydra aircraft was coming into view, a black speck above the layer of clouds that was quickly getting larger, till Steve could make out the landing pad and the turbines.

"You remember the plan?" Steve called back.

"Yeah: I go out there and give them a helluva a distraction while you land the jet and then give them hell from the inside and find whatever guy you're trying to find and get whatever information out of him that you can," Sam summarized as he slipped on his red-lensed goggles. He pressed a button, opening the bay door.

"Just give the word, Cap!" he shouted over the roaring rush of wind.

"Go!" Steve shouted, and Falcon rolled out in the sky, metal wings unfurling with a snap.

And then Steve was steering the jet down and onto the landing strip of the aircraft carrier in an 'unauthorized landing' and as he stepped out onto the landing pad Hydra agents were already swarming up with guns, and then the jet he flew in on was blown up in a wave of red and orange heat and he was rolling out of the way with Bucky Bear strapped securely onto his back protected by his shield.

Springing back to his feet Steve took the shield from his back and sent it ricocheting between Hydra agents as he flipped to avoid their bullets, grabbing the shield as it came back and then whirling to throw it again, and the teddy bear strapped onto his back confused them just enough—because what the hell is Captain America doing with a teddy bear strapped on his back?—and Steve had no problem incapacitating the rest of them and getting through the doors into the aircraft, shield replaced on his back over the bear.

An explosion wracked the ship.

"Falcon, was that you?" Steve asked over the comm link.

"You betcha," came Sam's voice. "Are you sure the Winter Soldier was part of Hydra? Because Bucky's one helluva shot, but these guys have sucky aim."

Steve ran through the halls, felling every Hydra agent in his path like a natural disaster.

The ship quaked again.

"Hey guys, stop hitting yourselves!"

"You know that they can't hear you, right? Steve pointed out, as he vaulted over a railing and dropped to another metal walkway, continuing towards the main section of the ship.

"Yeah, well, it's the taunt that counts."

"Right."

There was another wave of Hydra agents in Steve's path, but they didn't last any longer than the others, and Steve burst into the cockpit, a flick of his shield and all the armed agents were down and his shield was back in his hand and there stood the man he was looking for.

"Captain America," the man said. He was a large man wearing a pinstriped suit, with short red hair but long red beard and mustache, a monocle in his left eye.

"Dr. Faustus," Steve replied, squaring his stance. "You hurt my friend. And you are going to tell me exactly what you did to him and how I can undo it."

"No, I don't think that I will," the man said, as just at that moment Steve caught movement in his peripheral vision and turned and threw his shield quickly—but not quickly enough.

Everything exploded and Steve was tossed through the air and thrown against the wall, Bucky Bear slipping from his back and tumbling, and there was suddenly a gaping hole in the plane and—Dr. Faustus picked Bucky Bear up.

Steve scrambled to his feet, holding up his hands. "Don't," he said.

"You are attached?" Dr. Faustus asked, smirking slightly. "I suppose you would be concerned, seeing as you didn't catch your friend when he fell."

And with that Dr. Faustus let Bucky Bear drop.

"BUCKY BEAR! NOOOOOOOOO!" Steve yelled, rushing forward, but the fluffy brown teddy bear in its black mask and red and blue uniform was already falling into the clouds below.

"Sam!" Steve shouted. "Go save Bucky Bear! He just fell from the cockpit!"

"I'm a little busy here—"

"GO GET BUCKY BEAR!"

"Alright! Alright, I'm on it!"

A moment later and Falcon shot past, diving into the sea of clouds after the teddy bear.

Steve scanned the area, but Dr. Faustus was gone. There was footsteps audible on the metal walkways within the ship, and Steve sprinted in pursuit.

But there were more Hydra agents—and God, how many of them were there?!—and they slowed Steve's progress just enough so that when he exploded through the doors out onto the landing pad, one of the jets was already taking off, the doctor inside it.

"Damn it," Steve cursed, eyes darting around before he spotted another undamaged plane and jumped inside.

"Dr. Faustus got away," Steve reported, as he gunned the engine to life. "Did you catch Bucky Bear?!"

"Yeah, I got him. I just might not be giving him back. You may consider him officially kidnapped."

"Just keep him safe," Steve ordered, as he sped the plane down the launching pad, taking off into the sky as the damaged aircraft carrier spiraled down towards the ocean below in a splintering of metal and plumes of dark smoke. "We've got a plane to catch up with."

~ 5 ~

They had caught up with the plane. But they had also followed it right into a trap.

"You are fond of this, yes?" Dr. Faustus had asked, holding Bucky Bear, which he had taken from Cap's limp form, only the supersoldier's blue eyes able to move after he had gotten shot with some kind of paralyzing substance.

Dr. Faustus had grinned cruelly beneath his long red mustache. "Good," he'd said, "Then I will take it away from you, as a reminder that you will never be able to recover your friend."

And then he had left, giving the order for limp Captain America and the unconscious Falcon to be dumped out of the plane.

But luckily, Sam's parachute in his falcon suit had opened automatically, and since they'd been tied together, they both landed relatively safely in the forests of Russia.

It took a couple of hours though for Sam to wake up and for whatever they had injected Steve with to be purged from his system, but Sam had a pocket knife and was able to cut through the bonds, though it then took them another hour to locate Steve's shield, which had also fallen out of the plane.

"Well this is just great," Sam said sarcastically, as he threw his hands up and scanned a three-sixty of their surroundings. "We are woozy and stranded in the middle of a forest in the middle of the nowhere that is Russia."

"They took Bucky Bear," Steve said quietly.

Sam made a furious huff. "And that's all you care about, huh?! A damn stuffed teddy bear?!"

"Well, yeah," Steve said, pulling something out of one of the pockets in his uniform. "Because I put a GPS tracker in Bucky Bear." He showed the tracking device in his hand to his partner. "And we now have the location of their Hydra base."

"Okay, so you're not a complete idiot," Sam conceded, examining the location on the tracker. "But how the hell are we supposed to get there?"

"Are your wings still functional?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," Sam said, snorting. "But I can't carry you all the way there, if that's what you're asking."

"I'm not. I'm just asking you to find the nearest town where I can get an automobile—preferably a motorcycle, but I'll take anything with an engine and wheels."

Sam spread his metal wings with a small grin. "You got it, Captain," he said, before taking off.

A couple hours later, and Steve was driving an armored military car through a stretch of dirt roads while Sam scouted ahead.

"Found the military base," came Sam's voice over the comm. "And it's pretty well hidden and well fortified."

"So basically, it shouldn't be a problem," Steve concluded.

"Yeah. Don't think they ever expected anyone to actually find it. That was brilliant, with the bear, by the way. Did you know that was going to happen?"

Steve just chuckled.

When he arrived outside the Hydra base, Sam was waiting for him.

"So, what's the plan Captain?" he asked, as they observed the base from a hiding place in the bushes, watching Hydra agents enter and leave like honeybees at a hive. There were guards, but not too many.

"They won't be expecting us, so the element of surprise is on our side," Steve said. "We want to wait as long as possible before we blow that, so we're going to knock out a couple guards and don their gear, then infiltrate in disguise. You then find your way to the computers and backup the hard drive, and I'll find Dr. Faustus and rescue Bucky Bear. And then we blow the place to smithereens."

"Sounds good," Sam nodded, and on Steve's signal the two of them began sneaking closer.

The first part of the plan went perfectly.

They breached the wall easily, knocked out a couple guards and dressed themselves in Hydra gear.

"You know, that Hydra outfit really doesn't suit you, Captain."

"What, you don't think green is my color? Besides, you're one to talk. That Hydra uniform makes you look fat."

"That's because I'm wearing my Falcon suit underneath it, smart-ass."

"Do you happen to know Russian?"

"No. Do you?"

"немного; a little. If anybody tells you anything, just say 'Да, сэр.'"

"'Da, ser?' What does that mean?"

"It means, 'Yes sir.' At least, I'm pretty sure that's what it means. But to be safe, just try to avoid talking to anyone, okay?"

"Easier said than done, man."

"Shhh."

Walking into the base was a piece of cake. So was, at first, not talking to anyone, since everybody seemed to know exactly what they were doing and wasn't paying attention to anybody else. They just had to pretend like they knew what they were doing and where they were going.

Then they split up.

Sam didn't have too much trouble finding a computer room, but once he got there, he ended up having to kill all the men in the room in order to use one of the computers and plug in a memory card.

"Please please please let this computer understand English," he muttered under his breath as alarms started blaring.

He'd blockaded the doors, but it was only a matter of time before they were broken down. By that time he hoped to be long gone.

"Come on, there's got to be a way to change the language on this thing!"

Meanwhile, Steve was having his own problems.

He'd made his way to the lab where Dr. Faustus was, having taken down anybody who tried to talk to him too much in Russian, and then anybody who had seen him attack anybody, which had meant he ended up fighting lots of Hydra agents and the alarms were blaring and red lights were flashing.

At that point, there was really no more point in wearing the Hydra uniform, so he ripped it off and continued on in his blue star-spangled suit.

Someone was talking in Russian over the loudspeakers.

"Sam, can you shut that stuff off?"

"Working on it. Stupid Russian computer is making things difficult."

"Just do your best," Steve told him.

And then he was standing before Dr. Faustus. Again.

"You're not getting away this time," Steve said, voice low, eyes narrowed.

Bucky Bear was sitting on Dr. Faustus's desk, seemingly intact.

"And you won't be either," the doctor told him.

Steve advanced, shield at the ready. "We'll see about that."

The supersoldier leapt into action.

"You won't attack me," Dr. Faustus told him smoothly. "You are going to put down your shield, and you are going to let yourself be handcuffed."

Pausing, Steve blinked in confusion for a moment, his body trying to obey Dr. Faustus's commands rather than his own.

"Nope," he said, as he forced his body to listen to him again and broke through the attempted mind control. "I don't think that I am."

And then the doctor found himself getting pummelled in the face, in the gut, tossed to the ground.

"What did Hydra do to Bucky? What did you do to Bucky?" the supersoldier demanded, blue eyes hard. "Tell me."

So Dr. Faustus told him.

And with tears stinging his eyes, Steve rescued his Bucky Bear and left.

"Alright, Falcon," he said. "The prisoner of war has been liberated. It's time to blow this joint. Have you backed up the hard drive?"

"Aye, Captain. How high do you want this freak show to blow?"

"To the sky, pal. To the sky."

~ +1 ~

When Steve got back to his apartment in Washington DC, it was night, dark and silent. Holding Bucky Bear under one arm, Steve got out his key, opened the door, closed it behind him, turned around and stopped.

Because standing there in the shadowed corner of the room with his arms crossed was the Winter Soldier.

Which was strange, if only because Steve had detected his presence. And the fact that he was wearing civilian clothes: a gray beret and a matching gray scarf, a black leather jacket, dark jeans and black leather boots.

He looked almost normal. Except for the cold, empty look in his eyes as he analyzed Steve.

"Bucky?" Steve asked, softly, as if talking to a stray dog he was trying not to scare off.

The Winter Soldier tilted his head and stared at him blankly, long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail away from his face, which showed only a day's worth of beard stubble.

"I know you," he said, his voice low and rough with confusion and disuse.

"Bucky, it's me," Steve said, meeting the soldier's cold blue gaze with his own warm blue one. "It's Steve. Steve Rogers."

Bucky just looked at him. "Steve," he murmured softly, as if tasting the word on his tongue.

"Yeah," Steve said, his lips twitching upwards in small but hopeful smile as he continued, "You've known me your whole life. We fought in World War II together, but before that we grew up together, and I was the small, sick boy who was always getting beaten up in back alleys, but you were always there to beat up the bullies and help me back to my feet even when I insisted that I didn't need help. Your name is James Buchanan Barnes, but you always liked to be called Bucky."

Bucky blinked at him, and for the first time his face pulled into an expression of emotion, something like confusion and uncertainty. He stared at Steve, as though if he stared hard enough he would be able to cull answers out of the void that was what was left of his memories, like trying to pan gold from a frigid river.

His gaze landed on the bear in Steve's arms, and his expression pulled further.

"What is that? You've been carrying it with you everywhere."

"This?" Steve said, holding the bear out for the soldier to see and giving a small simper, "This is Bucky Bear."

Bucky looked even more confused. "I went to the museum," he said hesitantly. "That man, Bucky... he's not me."

"No," Steve agreed. "But you're him."

Bucky frowned. "I'm not."

"You are," Steve said forcefully.

"I don't remember."

"You will," Steve said, putting all his belief and honesty behind the words. "I can help you, Bucky. Just trust me. Please."

There were demons behind Bucky's blue eyes, and Steve stepped towards him, beseeching, "Please, Buck. We can get through this. Just listen."

Something in the soldier snapped, and suddenly he was snarling.

"I am not Bucky!" he screamed, taking out a dagger with his flesh hand and slashing at Steve, who caught his arm.

"Oh, then who are you?"

"I'm the Winter Soldier!"

"Do you honestly believe that?," Steve said, and as the soldier dropped the dagger and then caught it with his metal hand, bringing it up again, and when Steve caught his arm, it made a whirring noise and the bionics thrust forward and the dagger ended up grazing Steve's shoulder.

"Bucky!" Steve said, voice raising, pleading. "Bucky, listen to me! You're not your programming!"

Bucky's breathing was ragged, and his wild eyes stared into Steve's, and Steve took the opportunity of the soldier's brief hesitation and quickly removed the dagger from Bucky's shaking grip and put Bucky Bear in his hand instead.

Bucky froze, turning his head and staring down at the bear in confusion.

"You're my best friend," Steve told him. "You're Bucky. You're a fighter; I know you can fight your conditioning—your file says that you've been fighting it for the past 70 years and that that's why they had to continually wipe your mind. And I know that you've been through hell and I know that things have changed, and I know that things can never go back to the way they were. But I don't want them to go back. I just want you with me."

He placed a hand on Bucky's neck, but the man was staring at the bear and didn't look up.

"I'm with you till the end of the line, Buck."

Bucky looked up at him. "You have a Bucky Bear," he said, voice emotionless, face unreadable.

"Yeah," Steve nodded, and his hand was still on his friend's neck. Bucky hadn't flinched away. "He reminds me of you, and I..." Steve's voice choked, "I've missed you, Bucky. I've missed you for so long."

"He's soft," Bucky remarked, stroking the bear's brown ears. "But why is he wearing a mask and a bright red and blue uniform? Bucky never wore that."

"Ah, well," Steve said, letting his hand fall from Bucky's neck and grinning crookedly. "That's kind of a long story. You see, you remember those Captain America movies at the museum? Well, they also wrote Captain America comic books, and they made Bucky—you—my teenage sidekick, even though you're actually the same age as me, and in the comic books—"

"Bucky was always getting kidnapped," Bucky murmured, and Steve stopped. The soldier looked up at him again, his lips twitching. "And Captain America had to keep saving him. Although I'm pretty sure that only actually happened a couple times."

Steve blinked, a smile slowly spreading across his face like the sunrise. "Yeah," he said, "And in reality you saved me at least as much as I saved you."

"If not more," Bucky teased, and he was smiling now as well. "You did say that back in Brooklyn before you got super-serumed up, Bucky bailed your ass out of countless tough spots."

"Yeah," Steve chuckled. "I think they got our roles mixed up."

The smile fell from Bucky's face like he'd fallen from the train.

"Buck," Steve whispered, but the soldier looked away, darkened blue eyes latching back onto the bear and staring straight through it.

"You know, Bucky, you took me with you when you fell," Steve continued, in a soft voice that shivered with painful honesty. "When I lost you, I lost a part of myself. My best friend. My brother. You left a hole that burned like acid, and I learned to hide the pain but the hole has just kept growing. Despite what everyone says, it never got any easier."

Bucky kept his eyes down, not wanting to see the expression on Steve's face, not wanting to see the truth in that man's eyes. Not wanting to see if there were any tears on that man's cheeks.

"You want me to save you," Bucky murmured. "But I can't. I'm not that man. Maybe I can kill Hydra agents before they can hurt you, but I can't pull you from that ravine. I can't drag you out of the snow there, because Bucky never left. Bucky's still there. Bucky died there."

When Bucky looked up, his blue eyes were dark, so, so dark, haunted with a flash of ice-cold memory that screamed of blood and snow and agony.

When Steve met Bucky's gaze, his blue eyes were glistening wetly. "I don't want you to save me, Buck. I want you to let me save you."

Bucky stared at him. He clutched Bucky Bear to his chest, glanced down at it, glanced back up. A corner of his lips twitched.

"God, Steve, I knew that they turned you into a supersoldier. But they turned you into a necromancer too?"

And his voice sounded so much like Bucky that the tears that had been brimming in Steve's blue eyes escaped crystalline down his cheek even as he smiled.

"Yeah Buck," he chuckled. "I can bring ghosts back to life."

Bucky's eyes scanned Steve's amused face.

"You always were a horrible liar," Bucky remarked, his voice distant as if the words were being dredged up from the past and he wasn't quite sure where they came from.

Steve stopped smiling and looked at Bucky thoughtfully. "I'm not lying," he said seriously.

"Oh yeah?" Bucky said, staring Steve in the eyes and tilting his chin up, challenging. "Then prove it."

Steve hugged him.

Bucky flinched, eyes widening in surprise, but he didn't try to break away. Instead he let himself be enveloped in Steve's strong arms, and after a moment of remaining tense and rigid, he relaxed, letting his head lean against Steve's muscular shoulder, and while his bionic hand still held onto Bucky Bear, he brought his human arm up to embrace Steve back.

~ Epilogue ~

It was late at night—or at least, it was considered to be late at night by most normal people, but to Tony Stark it was still early, and thus he was in his workshop with the music blaring loudly while he tinkered around with some new Iron Man technology.

And he was just about to inject something into his arm despite Jarvis's protests, when his cellphone buzzed.

"Jarvis," Tony said in annoyance, as he put down the injector and grabbed his cellphone from the cluttered table, "I thought I told you to block all calls—"

"It's not a call, Sir," Jarvis stated. "Steve Rogers just sent you a text and a photo."

"The old man knows how to use a phone?" Tony asked in exaggerated shock as he swiped the screen with a grease-stained thumb, and the message popped up.

There were the words: I love the Bucky Bear. And so does Bucky.

And below it, a picture of Bucky wearing a surprisingly normal outfit and holding the Bucky Bear, with a small, slightly uncertain smile on his face, but a smile nonetheless. The Winter Soldier smiling.

Tony stared at the picture for a moment.

"Jarvis?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir?"

"What's Bucky Barnes's home address?"

If you enjoyed this story, there is a sequel titled The Trials of Captain Ameribear where I explore how Steve, Fury, Sam and Natasha deal with an unstable former Winter Soldier, and how Bucky deals with having a Stevie Bear that he doesn't want anyone to know about ;3

Anyways, I would love to hear your thoughts on this story!