Happy Birthday Bucky Barnes

I do not own any of the characters, just love 'em so dang much!

This story hits on the theme of Hurt/Comfort that is so strong and compelling in this Fandom as the Winter Soldier is brought in from the cold and shown the warmth of his humanity. There will be a follow up Chapter that takes place one year later so stay tuned folks! ;)

Also if you like it check out my other MUCH longer story's that go together, both hurt/ comfort non slash but different story line of his rescue and recovery process.

"No More Pain," and the sequel "To Be the Man That I Am,…. Bucky's Recovery"

He was not alone.

The Winter Soldier shifted just slightly under his thick comforter, opening his eyes a crack to peer at the large silhouetted figure that leaned casually against the door frame of the cell,…no,….room. The room was dark and the bright light of the hall way was almost blinding. His chest felt tight, heart hammering and his breathing stopped. He blinked rapidly as his body went ridged, tense with apprehension.

"Hey Bucky,…. It's just me,… It's Steve….. You remember?" The man spoke in a deliberately calm and gentle voice, words slow and pronounced with slight hesitation and a tremor of hope. He remained in the doorway, moving to stand up straight but not advancing forward into the room, giving the Soldier time to process and respond. The Asset felt his heart racing and his mind spinning as he struggled to hold on to the familiar voice and name. Steve,…..Steven Grant Rogers…. Captain America,….. Mission,…..NO,… Handler…Friend?

The Winter Soldier forced himself to take a deep breath of air, the sound, a choked gasp as he felt a tremor rake through his body, the rush of adrenalin released. He took a few more deep breaths, as he closed his eyes and focused just as Sam, the man who once had wings, had told him to do when his chest got tight and his mind scrambled. He crumpled his brow in concentration as he willed his body to calm down and the roar of his thoughts to quiet. He had never before been so dysfunctional as he was now, completely disoriented and unfocused. A useless, broken tool, worthless with out value or purpose. Yet despite his inability to operate as an efficient and finely tuned weapon, Steve and the other Handers, or Friends, as they insisted on calling them selves, never seemed angry or upset with him for failing to preform effectively.

He un-balled his fists and flexed his fingers as he slowly sat upright on the mattress he was permitted to sleep on in the middle of the floor. He opened his eyes again and winced as he rubbed his temple with his flesh hand, gritting his teeth at the familiar sensation of a headache, dull and throbbing behind his eyes. He had never noticed his pain before, as it was irrelevant unless it interfered with the mission objective. Now however, Steve and the other Avenger's had explained to him that his mission objective was to feel Healthy…, Happy… Safe, all terms he had to look up on the tablet Stark had given him and then confer with Steve and Sam to gain further Intel as he struggled to comprehend their meaning and how it related to his functionality as an Asset.

The Soldier rolled his neck and rotated his metal arm once as he sighed, his breathing evening out as he pulled his legs up under the cover and wrapped his arms around his knees. His eyes were unfocused and distant as he attempted to reorient himself with his own mind. Before, when he was still the Fist of Hydra, it had been mostly quiet inside his head, simple and direct, thoughts precise and feelings dull and detached. The longer he was awake however, the more he became aware of himself, his thoughts and feelings. It had been over three months since he was last strapped into Hydra's maintenance chair and even though he had grown to realize that he deeply hated and feared the dreaded machine, he also at times longed for it's deliverance form the confusion and chaos of his rapidly recovering mind that seemed to be pulled in a million different directions at once, the pain of recovering memories both physically and emotionally exhausting.

"Bucky?... May I come in?" Steve spoke cautiously, taking only the smallest step forward as the Soldier blinked again rapidly, eyes darting toward Steve and then around the room before lowing back down, face obscured by his curtain of hair as he nodded his head once submissively. He shook slightly as Steve closed distance until taking a seat upon the mattress on the floor, the bed frame discarded within the first few days the Soldier had been taken in by the Avenger's after it had been smashed and broken by the unhinged man during a particularly violent episode of hysteria.

Steve sat at the foot of the large mattress, body language relaxed and smile soft as he watched the Soldier, and waited for him to make eye contact. After a few more moments the man once named Bucky rose his head a fraction, eyes drifting up from behind his dark hair as he glanced nervously toward Steve then away again, biting his lip.

Steve studied his friend and then spoke with quiet reassurance.

"It's okay Buck…. You don't need permission to speak." Steve promised, sighing as internally he wondered how many more times he would need to repeat that affirmation before the Soldier's deeply ingrained conditioning would accept it as truth. The Captain again waited patiently, familiar with the routine of allowing the former Assassin to get his bearings. It had been hard at first, to watch his best friend struggle through restless sleep haunted by nightmares and then to keep his distance as the Soldier awoke, disoriented and desperately confused, fear evident in his eyes and body language. They had found him huddled under a bridge over one of the many waterways connected to the Potomac. He had been wild eyed and defensive, not allowing anyone to touch him as he growled in Russian, metal hand clutching a knife as his flesh one pulled on his own hair, rocking back and forth. Hawkeye had shot him with a tranquilizer once the Captain had reluctantly realized that there was no way to talk him down.

Now, after more then a month of gradual reassurances and agonizing patience, at last the Soldier had accepted Steve's help, if not as a friend then as a Handler. The Captain smiled again and nodded as the Asset glanced back up at him rocking slightly before he opened his moth and spoke with a rough, quiet mumble.

"I need….to use,….. the toilet?" His statement ended with a question and uncertain eyes that were watching Steve intently. In response Steve simply smiled and nodded, pointing toward the door that lead to the bathroom.

"Of course Bucky,…. Go ahead,…. I will be right here." Steve added when his friend glanced at the door then back to Steve with uncertainty. The Captain swallowed down his heartache as he watched Bucky slowly rise to his feet, taking silent steps toward the bathroom while continuing to glance back at Steve for reassurance. It had taken more then a few weeks of carefully worded questions from Sam before they had learned that the Soldier was constantly on guard with the thought he was being tested and he feared making a wrong move and being punished or sent back to Hydra. The admission was part of a larger revelation that offered the Avenger's some insight into the fragmented and tortured mind of the POW who because of constant flashbacks and the pain of rapidly reconnecting neural-transmitters, was having great difficulty keeping in touch with reality and where he was let alone who he was.

The Soldier's behavior was often erratic, at times closed off and guarded, blank but submissive. At other times he was frantic and psychotic, hallucinating and screaming in Russian while gripped in sever panic attacks, unable to understand or process the raw emotions accompanied by the flood of unfamiliar memories and disjointed thoughts. Then there were the times, usually after a violent or fear driven episode, where he was almost child like, eyes full of wonder and curiosity for the world around him. He often flinched away from touch or remained ridged and unresponsive, but when he was in the state of innocent bewilderment, he sought out the comfort, slowly leaning into Steve who would gently and carefully wrap his arms around him, rubbing his back and stroking his hair. At first it was only Steve he sought physical comfort from but over the past week he had began testing the boundaries with the other residents of the Avenger's tower and they had each in turn offered a hug, a pat on the back, stroke of his cheek or arm. It was a painfully slow process but there was some progress, and each day the Soldier seemed a little more human and a little less mechanical.

Steve glanced up at the barren walls of the empty room, sighing at the various dents and broken plaster from some of Bucky's more destructive tantrums. Stark had reassured the Captain that the damage was not a big deal and it was better to let him fight the walls then lash out violently against innocent bystanders when he was suffering. Steve swallowed down the anxious thought that cramped his gut and turned his stomach. What If Bucky never got any better?... What if the Soldier was all that was left? He rolled his shoulders and shook his head as he straitened his posture. It didn't really matter if Bucky never got any better because he was in pain and in need of Steve's unconditional care and support, something the Captain had explained to the other Avengers was not just his duty and responsibility, but what Bucky deserved after years of loyal and faithful friendship. Bucky was his brother, sane or not, dangerous or broken, strong or weak, Steve would be there for him now and forever.

The Captain stood up again and offered a practiced smile beneath tired but hopeful eyes as he nodded at the Soldier who exited the bathroom but remained in the doorway, head down and flesh arm holding his metal one that was ridged and drawn to his side. The dark haired man was biting his lip and staring hard off to the side before bringing his troubled expression up toward Steve who was walking toward him slowly, with open and relaxed body language. Steve stopped a few feet away, hands at his side, fingers twitching as he fought the urge to reach out to his long lost friend who in many ways was still lost, his mind seeming to drift constantly before snagging on the jagged edges of his most painful memories.

"Good Morning Bucky…. How did you sleep?" It was his usually greeting to the former Hydra Assassin who had at first regarded him with unease and suspicion but now simply nodded with out a word, eyes still staring hard at nothing, but focused, his brow crumpled in concentration. Steve had learned to decipher the complex and subtle expressions and moods of the unstable Soldier and could tell he was wrestling with a confusing thought or disjointed memory, likely distorted by his intensely graphic and violent nightmares. According to the Intel Nat had gathered, The Soldier had not been allowed to sleep during missions, fed a concoction of drugs that Bruce had angrily referred to as a Super Soldier version of Crystal Meth and PCP laced with mood stabilizers to keep him compliant. The powerful drug cocktail had kept him awake and filled with adrenaline, unfazed by pain or fatigue. They had also discovered through research that The Soldier 's mind had been wiped after every mission before being stuck back in cryofreez where his mind was locked in a dreamless unconscious state. Because of this the Soldier was not only confused by his body's need for sleep but also the terrifyingly real but often strange and perplexing dreams that consisted of forgotten memories mixed with fear and pain. It was a lot for the amnesic Assassin to take in and he already requested twice for maintenance to turn off the dreams, becoming sullen and agitated when Bruce and Sam explained why they couldn't.

The Soldier glanced up at Steve with an anxious and pained expression as he searched Steve's familiar face and wrestled with his need for help but his fear of expressing himself. Steve smiled gently, opening his arms to invite his friend into a comforting embrace. Bucky's eyes darted toward the Captain's arms, then up to his face before letting out a strangled sigh and closing distance tentatively, small shuffling steps bringing him forward until he pressed him self lightly against Steve's strong chest, forehead on the Captain's collar bone as he shook slightly with unspoken anguish. Steve slowly and very gently brought his arms up to encase his best friend, one hand on the trembling man's back as his other hand rubbed through thick, chestnut locks of hair.

"It's okay Bucky,….. Your safe,…. You can tell me…. What did you see?" Steve asked with his same soothing tone, voice even and presence grounding. He held the Soldier with strong, supportive arms that did not restrain him or keep him in place but rather helped him stay on his feet. After several long minutes of silence, The Soldier stepped back slightly, his flesh arm still griping his metal arm, pinning it to his side as if afraid it was a bomb that could explode and injure anyone around him. He let out a raspy breath and then timidly rose his eyes toward Steve as he licked his lips.

"I….. was him…. From before….." The Asset's voice was a whisper, tone quivering slightly as he again looked off to the side with a contemplative frown. Steve nodded but internally cringed, still feeling uncomfortable with his friend thinking of himself as not Bucky, as if he was once but no longer was or could be, a notion Steve constantly wanted to challenge but was advised by Sam to leave alone so as not to add more pressure to the already unhinge man.

"Okay." Steve encouraged as he rest a hand on Bucky's flesh shoulder. The Winter Soldier looked at Steve's hand then up to his Handler with an unreadable expression.

"You were there,… smaller,….not a child but,…..young…..adolescent…. Smiling at him….." The Asset studied Steve's face in reflective thought as he brought his flesh hand up, fingers hesitating by Steve's mouth before very softly ghosting over his lips. Steve breath caught, lips parted slightly as he reminded himself to remain still. Bucky took his hand away from Steve's lips and placed it on the man's chest, his head tilted in remembrance. "He was laughing at… a drawling….in a book… it was your book… you had many drawling's." The Soldier nodded to himself, eyes distant before coming back to Steve's face, searching to see if this was true. Steve smiled again and nodded.

"My sketch book,…. I drew all the time." Steve confirmed, feeling a surge of hope in his heart.

"The drawling,… it was of,…. an old man,…. He was asleep,… at a desk… with his mouth open." The Asset looked at Steve with a strange expression before his lips curled up in the barest hint of a smile, one of only a few Steve had seen. Steve's face broke into a broad grin as he nodded, eyes shinning with happiness.

"Yes,…Yes!... I remember that drawling,…. It was of Mr. Henderson our high school History teacher!... He was always falling asleep in class and snoring!... You use to crumple up paper and throw it at him until he woke up and would demand to know who was doing it and we would all just laugh!" Steve beamed at the remembrance as he nodded emphatically at Bucky. The Soldier's smile grew a fraction at seeing the delight in Steve's eyes before it faltered and his eyes dropped, a frown over his face.

"The pages,….. they started turning,…. Fast….. He looked up and,…. You were gone,….. " His breathing hitched and his voice broke with a pained growl as he shut his eyes tight. "He was me… and the book…it was empty,…..but then…. The pages turned red,….blood,….and fire, smoke, screaming….." The Soldier's voice caught in his throat as his chest grew tight and a trembled racked through his body, head hung. Steve's face dropped as he once more pulled his friend into his warm embrace, offering comfort and reassurance.

They remained still for a while longer as Steve promised the Soldier it was alright and reminded him that sometimes memories and dreams merged together. After a few more shaky breaths the Soldier stepped back again with a swallow and nod, expression tense and gaze still down cast.

"Common Bucky,…. It is time to get dressed,….. today is special." Steve spoke with forced cheer and a smile that hid his heart ach. The Soldier looked up at him with a questioning glance and wariness.

"It's okay!" Steve promised again as he ran his hand through his friends messy locks, smoothing down the bead head hair do. "Today is your Birthday James Buchanan Barnes!...The day you where born!" Steve clarified when The Soldier cocked an eyebrow in confusion.

"The day,…. Of birth?" The Soldier questioned with uncertainty as he tried to process the significance.

"Yes Bucky,….. You where born March 10, 1917, Ninety-eight years ago today!... But Dr, Banner said you are biologically closer to 28… Which means now I am two years older then you Jerk!" Steve explained with a soft, affectionate expression as he squeezed his shoulder. The Soldier looked at his Handler with a thoughtful expression then nodded his understanding before hesitantly responding with a timid whisper.

"Punk." He mumbled as he watched Steve's face light up the way it had two weeks ago when the Asset had first asked Captain America why James Barnes had called him "Punk."

…

They had all been waiting in the common dinning area, a breakfast spread of every kind of tasty delight set out buffet style with a large "Happy Birthday" Banner handing from the ceiling. Natasha was sipping on a mimosa next to Clint and Bruce who each enjoyed their coffees. Sam was debating with Stark over weather the display would be too overwhelming for the recovering POW when Jarvis announced that Captain Rogger's and Sgt. Barnes had entered the elevator heading to the common area.

"No time to change it now Bird man!... Jarvis que the music!" Tony shrugged with a smirk as 1930's Big band music erupted into the room, every one looking up at the ceiling with amusement.

"Jarvis,….. please turn the music down a few levels!" Sam sighed as he shook his head and Jarvis politely obliged, the music becoming more background and less abrasive. They all turned with expectant looks but calm stillness as Steve stepped into the room first, his face surprised and then uncertain as he looked at the banner and over to Toney and Sam with a raised eye brow.

"I tried to tell him it was too much!" Sam through his hands up and Tony huffed and rolled his eyes. Steve sighed and shook his head but then turned behind him with a soft smile, and an out stretched hand as the Solider took cautious steps forward, peering around the corner, wide eyes scanning the occupants of the room and the decorations before stepping fully into the doorway. With Steve's hand on his back he allowed himself to be guided into the room, his expression tense and focused as he looked every were at once before looking directly at each of them, his posture ridged and fists clenched. He held his head up and in a clear and direct voice made his statement.

"Sgt. James Buchannan Barnes was born on March 10th in the year 1917,…. Today is the yearly reoccurrence of that date which is used to determine the human ageing process… This body has been alive for 98 years but the ageing process has been delayed due to the process of Cryogenics… He is,… I am,…. 28 years old." His voice faltered slightly when he considered himself and the identity of James Barnes, looking away but then up toward Steve who rubbed his back and smiled with a nod beneath emotional eyes. The Soldier swallowed and turned as Natasha approached him with slow, easy steps, her smile warm and body language non-threatening. She took his flesh hand in hers and leaned forward giving him a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Happy Birthday!" She spoke with a calm, soothing voice that communicated it was alright that he still did not think of himself as Bucky or Sgt. Barnes. She stepped back and pulled him further into the room as they each offered birthday greetings before Stark excitedly pointed out the array of breakfast delights, the Soldier's eyes large as he licked his lips.

Steve smiled happily as he took a bite of his Belgian waffle then laughed as Bucky followed his example taking a large bite of his own, managing to get whip cream on the end of his noise in the process. The others all shared amused chuckles as Natasha smiled and used her napkin to whip it off for him. He looked at her and the others with a shy smile then attacked the stake of strawberry's and cream with more caution, taking his time to chew slowly and savor the taste the way Sam had instructed.

When they had first found him injured and mentally unstable, mumbling Russian gibberish under the bridge, it had been obvious that he wasn't eating, his muscular frame wiry and his skin pale and gaunt. After knocking him out and bringing him back to the tower, Bruce had started him on an IV and remarked how his stomach was low in natural acids needed to break down and digest food, suggesting that Hydra had been giving him nutrition supplements instead of actual food. The realization had been just one of many sickening discoveries and Sam offered support when Steve attempted to introduce the psychotically troubled Soldier to the act of consuming food while Bruce provided medical supervision to prevent Refeeding Syndrome. They had modeled the act of chewing and swallowing and then shown him a diagram of how the digestive process worked. The Soldier had followed their instruction with confused apprehension, drinking protein shakes and eating small slices of peanut butter and banana. Once he was no longer starving, he was introduced to an array of flavors and textures, the experience of eating both new and exciting and at times leading to big bites and not enough chewing.

After breakfast Steve and the other's lead Bucky down the hall toward a room that had been Pepper's Yoga and polities studio on the rare occasions she was in town and staying at the Tower. Steve explained to the Soldier that because Birthdays where so special and only once a year, it was common for friends to give each other gifts. The Soldier looked from Steve to the others with a guarded expression, before looking to the closed door they had stopped in front of and tilting his head to the side. Hanging on the door was a simple yellow sign with dark blue writing. It read, "Company Welcomed." The Soldier examined the sign and then Steve flipped it over and showed him the reverse side that read, " Please Do Not Disturb." The Captain then explained to Bucky that this was going to be his own private space and he could use either side of the sign for when he wanted friends to come in or if he needed some time to be alone. The Soldier regarded the sign but said nothing before nodding once that he understood.

"Go ahead,…. Open the door." Steve smiled and nodded with encouragement, the others standing near by with calm expressions but expectant eyes. The Soldier looked at them all and then the door for a moment longer before reaching out to turn the knob. When he stepped through the thresh hold he stopped abruptly and took a gasping breath, eyes wide with surprise.

The walls of the room where painted a soft yellow with light blue trim and evenly spaced all around the room were large poster size photos lamented and bordered with several smaller photos. In one corner of the room was a record player with a large shelve of records from the 1930's and 40's. Next to it was a large T.V screen that was linked up to a Stark Tablet and another case of movies with three rows, one labeled "Movies You Watched from Before", another "Movies You have Not Seen," and the last "Documentary's about Your History." The Soldier looked from that corner to another where a mound of bean bag chairs, pillows and blankets faced the rest of the room and the T.V. There was another several shelves that were lined with an assortment of books from classic Fiction to Non-Fiction History, Science and Art as well as a section of biography's and autobiography's about Captain America, the Howling Commando's and Sgt. James Buchannan Barnes.

A few feet away was a machine that had several buttons next to pictures of different drinks, warm and cold with a stack of reusable plastic cups and a disposal slide that Stark explained lead to the kitchen sink. There was also a mini fridge and when the Soldier approached it he stopped and looked back at Steve for permission, receiving a nod of affirmation. He opened the door and inside was a multitude of fruits and tasty snakes he had identified as enjoyable over the past month of learning to eat.

The Soldier shut the door and looked at the other's blinking rapidly as he opened his mouth and then closed it again, eyes looking everywhere at once, breathing escalated. Steve approached him slowly and rest a hand on his shoulder, using the other to hold the side of his friend's face to help him focus.

"This is your space Bucky,… This is your Memory Room, a place you can go when you want to try and remember or when you get confused and everything feels like to much." Steve offered, searching the Soldier's pensive expression to see if he understood. After a long pause Steve continued, understanding the Soldier did not have words at the moment, his breathing rapid as he continued to look around the room. Steve took his best friend's hand and guided him toward the music, explaining the purpose and demonstrating how to use the record machine. He encouraged the Soldier to select a record and with slight hesitation, he reached out and pulled an album with a woman smiling in a fancy dress.

"Marlene Dietrich!" Steve beamed as he carefully removed the vinyl and demonstrated how to play it. "Your Mother use to play music in the morning when she cooked breakfast!" Steve stated with a fond gleam in his eye as the sound of a soft, melodic voice filtered through the room. The Soldier watched the record spin with wide eyes, mouth slightly open and a slight tremor running through him. Steve studied him and then placed a hand on his back. "You okay Bucky?" He asked with concern. The Soldier let out a breath as he blinked again and turned toward Steve with astonishment and disbelief.

"I…..I remember!...This,… her voice,…I…" The Soldier exhaled as his eyes grew distant and unfocused, lost in a memory. Steve knew the look and felt his breath catch in hope that Bucky would reclaim another piece of himself. After a long moment the Soldier blinked rapidly and took in a gasp of air before jerking his head around, eyes franticly searching the walls of photos, scanning the familiar faces from a past he struggled to grasp as his own. He took a few steps away from Steve then stopped again as he looked back toward his Handler for permission, once more receiving a patient nod. With a sense of urgency the Soldier crossed the room and stopped directly in front of one of the large black and white photos of a woman with kind eyes and a crocked smile, full lips and dark brown hair curled in the style of the day.

The Soldier let out a choked sound as his body shook again, hand slowly reaching toward the face of the woman he knew but fought to remember. His fingers lightly touched the smooth photo's surface as if he could feel her skin, hands trembling as his eyes grew wet, breath quivering.

"Do you know who that is Bucky?" Steve asked gently as he stood a few feet behind him with a tentative smile.

"Mother?" The Soldier's voice was choked with emotion, unable to look away from the face that brought on such intense feelings he thought his knees may give out.

"Yes Bucky,….. That is your Mother." Steve's voice was strong and affirming, with a slight breathless sound that hinted at his own emotional response. There was a shared breath and respectful silence as the others smiled with genuine and heartfelt awe at the once feared Hydra Assassin's realization that he had known the love of a mother. Steve stood a few feet away watching as the Soldier shook with labored breath and wide, desperate eyes as he studied the photo, inching closer until he finally let out a whimpered cry and pressed his forehead to the photo, wrapping his arms around himself.

"He called her Maw,….. She called him her Blue Eyed Boy,…" The Soldier cryed as he stepped back, tears staining his cheeks turning toward Steve and the other's with a look of amazement and tremendous need, like a thirty man who finally had his first sip of water

"Blue eyes,….. like her's!" He pointed at the face he now knew, looking at Steve and then back at the picture before hugging himself again with a mouth that was open and gasping and eyes that wept from the intense feelings that accompanied the whirlwind of memories.

"Blue eyes like yours Bucky,…. You were her Blue Eyed Boy,….. She was YOUR Mother,….. And she loved you so much!" Steve felt his voice crack, tears welling up in his eyes even as a bright smile was plastered on his face. He took another step forward and placed a firm hand on his friends shaking shoulder. The Asset looked back at his Handler with a torrent of emotions pouring from his eyes, whole body shaking as he was griped with the realization.

"My Mother,… My Maw!... I was her Son!" The Soldier's voice broke as he folded into Steve's arms with a shattered cry of relief and sorrow, joy at remembering and pain from the loss. "I was her Son!... She…..she loved me!" The Soldier stuttered as he buried his face in Steve's strong chest, arms still wrapped around himself and shaking even as Steve held him tight. The others watched with empathy and Stark sighed as he picked up a beautifuly wrapped box and cleared his throat.

Steve held Bucky protectively, as he looked at Stark with questioning eyes then at the package.

"Well Captain Tear Jerker,…. I was going to wait but now seems like a good time so…" He held the box out toward the Soldier who had turned to face him, eyes round and wet and breathing staggered as he struggled to process the onslaught of feelings and thoughts that raced through him as he tried to remembered his mother. With a shaky hand and blinking eyes he accepted the box then examined it before looking at Steve for guidance.

"Open it up Bucky,….. it is a present for your Birthday,….. just like this room is yours now." Steve smiled as he wiped his own tear blurred vision and nodded. The Soldier knelt down on the floor in the middle of the room and began to carefully open the present, still breathing with choked sounds of emotion as his body trembled. He opened the box and instantly he went still before taking a sharp intake of breath, flesh hand gripping the soft, faded with age, blue and white quilt that smelled like lavender,…. Like his mother. He pulled it to his face and chest as he breathed in the scent with a desperate cry then looked up at Stark with confusion. Behind him Steve covered his mouth and looked wide eyed at familiar quilt then up at Stark with disbelief.

"Toney!... How?" Steve stammered as he too knelt down next to Bucky who was clutching the quilt with all his might and breathing in the scent like he would dye with out it.

" I have my ways Rogers,… But really,….. it was all Pepper…. She remembered watching a documentary about you golden boys where the Dear Mrs. Barnes was talking about how she made him a blue quilt when he was born to match his eyes and how he always slept with it up until he went to war." Stark shrugged nonchalantly as if he hadn't hired over a dozen people to track down every piece of memorabilia and personal effects of the Barnes' family that had been auctioned off and scattered over the past 70 years.

"And the perfume?" Natasha asked as she watched Steve pick up the antique looking bottle from inside the box that had been sprayed on the beloved quilt.

"Sam told me that when he asked Cap about calming senses he had mentioned Barnes' mother wore lavender perfume. I simply looked up the most popular lavender perfume sold during the 1930's in New York and purchased the patent then had my Cologne company whip up a batch,….. the bottle is an antique though from the original company." Stark again spoke casually as if it was no big deal. Steve huffed a laugh as he shook his head and then helped Bucky wrap the quilt around him self as the overwhelmed Soldier hid himself in the what felt like his mother's loving embrace.

"Wow!" Sam did a slow Clap as Tony raised a glass in salute.

"You have your own cologne?" Hawkeye asked with a bark of a laugh.

"Yup,…. Smells like success!" Tony smirked as Natasha and Bruce both rolled their eyes.

Steve simply smiled from his position on the floor, arms around Bucky as he pressed himself against Steve, completely wrapped up in his mother's hand made quilt. The Soldier was overcome with emotion and sensory overload, memories of his mother consuming his conscious mind and he let himself become lost in it as he cried with the first real smile breaking through beneath his gasping sobs.

"She was my mother!" His voice was raspy and choked but full of relief. "I… Know her,….. I remember her Steve!" Bucky cried out from within the quilt, curled in Steve's strong and comforting embrace. The other's watched the heart wrenching scene and even Stark had to wipe his eyes.

"Yes Bucky,… You remember, You know her,…." Steve smiled as he shifted the quilted figure up into a sitting position to face him. The Captain nodded with an earnest expression as he used one hand to wipe the tears from Bucky's shocked face, eyes wide and lips trembling. "…And you know me!,…..You know all these people!" Steve smiled with fond hope as he kept one arm around his friend's shaking form and the other gestured toward the multiple photos on the wall. " And once you remember them,….. You'll remember you too!... You will know who you are James Buchanan Barnes!" Steve sighed with sincerity as Bucky once more pressed himself tight against Steve, still breathing heavily with wide eyed amazement as he looked all around him at the faces from a past that was HIS to remember.

It took almost an hour of Sam and Steve helping him to calm down by taking deep breaths in the pillow corner and drinking a tart cup of pomegranate juice before the Soldier was once more grounded in the present. He focused his concentration on Natasha, sill wrapped securely in his quilt as she explained a game she and Clint had created to help him remember. On large laminated index cards was written in simple handwriting, the name of each person pictured on the walls and a brief description of how, when and where Bucky knew them. The first name he picked was his mother, Winnifred Barnes, reading the card and the description of her with a soft, reverent voice, as if reciting a prayer. He carefully placed the card beneath her picture and smiled up at her, eyes still shinning bright as he wrapped the lavender fragrance around him securely.

The next was his father, a man who grinned in the photo with a mischievous wink and Irish charm that his son had inherited. The Soldier stood with his head tilted and brow crumpled pensive as he stared hard at the photo for a long stretch. After a few more patient moments Steve cleared his throat.

"What do you remember Bucky?" Steve asked with an expectant smile. The soldier turned toward his handler with a frown then pointed at the picture.

"He was Strong,… had big hands,… covered in …. grease?" Bucky half stated and half asked. Steve considered his statement and nodded.

"Yup,… he worked for one of the best automobile manufacturer's of our time, Pierce-Arrow Motor Car Company… You loved cars and he would take us both out to see the new models at the car shows… You were awful proud because the cars your father was working on were the ones owned by movie stars and all the rich folks." Steve smiled with a nod. The Asset consider the information then looked back at the picture of his father, taking another step forward and studying the man before suddenly backing away blinking as he shook his head. He swallowed and looked at Steve biting his lip then back at the picture of his father before moving away from it and toward his mother.

"What is it Bucky?" Steve asked with a confused expression and Bucky glared at the photo of his father then away again.

"He made her cry….. Yelled,…. Hurt!" The Soldier hissed as he placed himself between the two photos as if trying to protect his mother from the image of his father. Steve let out a deep breath and glanced at Sam who had a questioning look. The Captain swallowed and looked back at the Soldier who was still glaring at the photo of his father with his fists clenched, quilt wrapped around him like a cloak.

"You father was a good man Bucky,… But he had an Irish temper and … he was a mean drunk… but it wasn't always like that." Steve tried to console but the Soldier shook his head, eyes narrow as his face was dark and menacing.

"He yelled,… scared Maw and the little girl,…. Made them cry!" The Soldier insisted before he looked over at the picture of his Sister, a beautiful teenager, the picture surrounded by smaller photos of her at different ages. "She was little,…. Maw held her and he broke the dishes….. I was mad,….. but not strong,….. we fought…He won… made me leave…I was injured….." The Soldier swallowed, speaking in first person as he relived the intense memory, eyes burning with anger and humility and shame. He turned toward Steve, looking hurt and confused and furious. "It was raining,… I came to you….. You helped me." He stated flatly and shook his head looking back at the photo of his father. "He hurt me,… like Hydra!" The Soldier whispered with seething anger and Steve instantly stepped forward with urgency causing the Soldier to flinch back.

"NO!..." Steve stopped and held up his hands, catching himself as he took in his friend's defensive stance. The Captain swallowed and gathered his thoughts. "He wasn't like Hydra Bucky,….. I know he hurt you that night,…. It got really bad for a little while,…He,… Your father lost his job in 1933,…when the Great Depression hit nobody could afford to buy fancy cars anymore… He got depressed and your Maw had to find work and he started drinking more…. You where 16 and wanted to protect your Maw and sister,… Becca." Steve sighed as he pointed at the picture of the girl as The Soldier looked at her and blinked with recognition as if just realizing the connection she had to his family. "You tried to stand up to him and he gave you a bad beating and kicked you out…." Steve was trying to explain the memory in context but before he could finish the Soldier nodded looking away and speaking in a tone that was low and dangerous.

"He said 'You aren't the man of this house,…I will teach you to be a man,….. Get a job and don't come back until you can pay your own way!' The Soldier turned back toward Steve with a look of anguish. " He taught me to be a man through pain,….. just as Hydra taught me to be a weapon." Bucky spoke with certainty as he glared again at the photo and muttered a curse in Russian.

"No Buck,….. I swear to you,…. He was nothing like Hydra,….. he made a mistake,….. he wasn't thinking strait!...A few months later he sobered up and begged you to come home,….. you had quite school and started working at the docks but he apologized and promised he'd quite drinking… He got a decent job at Crystler and you moved back in with your folks and I helped you catch up on school that summer so you wouldn't be held back a grade…. It all got better Bucky,….. it was just bad for a little while,… Sometimes people make mistakes,…. They don't know how to deal with their anger and so they hurt others." Steve sighed as he closed distance, placing a hand on Bucky's shoulder as the confused and uncertain blue eyes looked from the photo to Steve with a pensive frown.

"People aren't perfect Bucky,….. Nobody is,….. and you forgave him for hurting you and so did your Maw and sister…. Your family got through it together,… Please don't let that memory hold you back from remembering all the good your Father did… He loved you Bucky,….. Just like yer Maw did!" Steve tried to convince his friend with a hopeful twist of his lips and a reassuring nod as he squeezed his flesh shoulder. Bucky huffed and glanced at the photo then back to Steve with a reluctant nod.

"I have caused more pain to more people then he did,….. and I want to be forgiven….." The Soldier spoke softly, with his head lowered, eyes peering up at Steve who offered a sad smile and nod before pressing their foreheads together.

"We all make mistakes Bucky,…. But lucky for us we get a second chance." Steve held Bucky's head and then stepped back with a nod.

"Well Steve,….. are their any other bombshell's from the past we need to be warned about before this game continues?" Natasha sighed with one eyebrow up.

"I am going to suggest we take a break from this journey down memory lane and let the Buckster play at his own speed and in his own time!" Stark opened his arms and the others nodded in agreement as Steve sighed and swallowed, realizing that perhaps trying to trigger Bucky to remember all the important people from his past in one day was over presumptuous.

"That sound okay to you Bucky?" Steve asked and The Soldier stepped back into the center of the room and looked around at all of the photo's with a determined expression.

"I have a mission." He stated with certainty before turning to face his Hander,…No, His Friend. "I will remember my past,…. I will know my self as James Buchanan Barnes,…. I will no longer be an Asset by the next time we celebrate the date of my birth." He nodded in affirmation of his self appointed mission, feeling a sense of purpose and security in knowing he had a specific objective, a time line to complete it in and the resources and support to ensure he would succeed. He looked at Steve for validation and received a gentle nod and smile of encouragement, the others offering the same. Despite the enormity of the task and the tremendous uncertainty and unknown, he felt relief that at least he was sure of one thing.

He was not alone.

There will be a second Chapter! Please Review