Hello! Like so many other wonderful writers on this site, I saw Captain America: The Winter Soldier and died a little, and so I had to write something.

There's no slash, just lots of h/c and friendship. I hope you enjoy!

I own nothinggg.

X

"What makes you think it's going to be so easy to find him?"

Sam's standing there with his arms crossed, being all Sam – he's not pushing, he's not acting like Steve's stupid, he's just asking.

Steve looks at him – at Sam, who has so loyally remained by his side every day while he healed – and clenches his jaw.

"Because. I broke his arm, Sam. He can't just keep going with it like that. Sooner or later he's gonna either pass out, or go to a hospital. And there's gotta be some kind of record, right? I mean, where else is he gonna go? Hydra's done."

Sam sighs. "Yeah man, but if you ask me, I'm betting on the whole 'passing out' thing over the 'going to a hospital' thing any day. I don't think your old pal is exactly thinking straight. And if he does pass out somewhere? It doesn't mean it'sgoing to be in a populated area. Why would he go anywhere populated? He's probably off in some woods hiding."

Steve flinches at the thought of his best friend hiding in some cold forest, hurt and alone. "I'll find him."

Sam sighs a little. "Well of course you're not gonna do it alone, I'll help you, I'm just saying I don't think it's going to be easy."

x

And yet it is easy. It's a thousand times easier than either of them thought it would be, because in a way, Bucky pretty much comes right to them.

Steve's been out of the hospital for barely two weeks when his phone rings in the middle of the night. He fumbles around in the dark, his side pulling painfully where the still-healing bullet wound is.

"Hello?" Who the hell is calling at this time of the night? S.H.I.E.L.D isn't even around anymore.

"Hey Capsicle."

Steve groans quietly, rubs his eyes. "What is it Tony?"

"Don't get too excited to hear from me, it's nothing big. Just thought you'd want to know that it seems your bestest pal in the world is looking for you."

Steve sighs, loudly. "Tony, what the hell are you talking about? It's three in the morning, your jokes aren't..."

"It's not that hard, Captain Brain. Your friend, one James Buchanan Barnes? He's looking for you."

He's immediately awake, sitting straight up in bed. He doesn't even feel his wounds protesting. "What? Where? Is he there?" His heart is pounding like a drum.

"No, he's not here." There's a clink in the background and Steve thinks briefly that Tony must be having a very late nightcap. Or else a very early one. "But I just got a call from a hospital in Brooklyn. Seems somebody found your pal passed out somewhere, took him to the hospital, and after terrorizing the entire hospital staff once he woke up, kept mentioning one Steve Rogers. And of course your number's not listed but mine is and I guess they think I'm your boss so they called me, and..."

"What's the name of the hospital?" Steve cuts in, already pulling on his jeans, hopping awkwardly on one leg with the phone pressed between his shoulder and ear.

"Victory Memorial," Tony replies. "Hey, want me to go with? I could use some McDonald's anyway, it's..."

Steve hangs up.

x

The trip to Victory Memorial seems to take forever. Steve's heart is pounding, and all his earlier exhaustion seems to have evaporated into thin air.

Bucky... I'm coming. I'm coming, don't go anywhere.

He parks outside the front doors of the hospital and runs in, and as soon as he approaches the receptionist's desk she's picked up the phone. "He's here. I'll send him up right away." She smiles at Steve. "It's a good thing you're here, Captain. Head up to room 205. Please hurry."

x

The room is a mess - an overturned gurney against the wall, blood on the floor, a smashed window on the left. His eyes flick around the room rapidly, searching, and there he is.

Huddled in the corner of the room, knees pulled up, injured arm cradled protectively against his ribcage. His head is lowered, dark hair covering his face, and he's not moving.

"Bucky?"

Bucky's head flies up, dark blue eyes angry and guarded, but when he sees it's Steve, something changes in his face. Steve thinks he sees just a little bit of happiness. Or maybe not happiness... maybe relief. Either way, it's a good thing.

"Hey." Steve takes a step forward, and Bucky's chin goes down a little, eyebrows lowering.

"What - what are you doing here?" It looks like it takes him some effort to say it, and his voice is gruff. Steve wonders how long its been since he spoke last.

"I came to see you," Steve replies, taking another step forward. "The doctors told me you were asking for me, so..."

"I didn't," Bucky snaps, he looks angry, but hurt too, and afraid. "I didn't ask."

"Well I'm here now anyway." Steve keeps moving forward, he's only about ten feet from Bucky now and up close he can see how exhausted his old friend looks, his face white and drawn under the light stubble dusting his jawline. There's dark shadows under his blue eyes, and his eyes themselves – Steve's not sure he's ever seen anyone look so lost and confused. There's several glass shards stuck in his right arm, and bloody smears all over his arm, neck, and left cheek.

He's literally as close to the wall as he can get. There's nowhere left for him to go. Steve takes another step and crouches down so they're on the same level, glass crunching under his boots.

"Hey. Doesn't your arm hurt? What do you say we get it looked at?"

Bucky turns his head away a little, Steve watches fear growing in his eyes. He whimpers – clearly involuntarily – and Steve is reminded of a wild animal backed into a corner.

"Please," Bucky says shakily. "Please don't."

"Don't what?" Steve's heart feels like its in a vice grip. He hasn't been this close to Bucky since the helicarrier.

"Don't touch me."

"Why not?"

"I might hurt you." Bucky's voice is barely above a whisper, and Steve watches as tears slowly form in his eyes and streak swiftly down his cheeks.

"Buck." Steve smiles and reaches out – ignores Bucky's flinch – and puts his hand on his old friend's knee. "Haven't we already been there and done that?"

Bucky's eyes latch onto his hand and he just stares, all the while tears steadily flowing. "I know you. Why do I know you?" His voice is tortured, trembling, the fingers of his metal hand clenching and unclenching jerkily.

"Because we're best friends, Buck. Or at least we used to be." Steve doesn't move. He feels oddly as if he moves a single muscle, the moment's going to pass and he's going to lose Bucky forever. "I know what they did to you, Buck," he continues softly, "Just... let me help you. I'll help you remember."

He lowers his head, tries to catch Bucky's gaze again, and finally Bucky's eyes flick to him, and they are so, so tormented and pleading. "I don't remember," he whispers desperately, mouth quirking in a frustrated gesture.

"You will." Steve pats his knee gently but firmly. "I'm gonna help you, Buck. We'll figure it out. What do you say?"

Bucky holds his eyes for a long moment, biting his lip – he looks so young, like a teenager when he does that – and Steve can see the internal battle going on and then he nods, ever so tiny. "But – but I don't have anywhere... to go."

Steve smiles. Yes. Did it. "Yeah you do Buck. As long as I'm around, you're always gonna have somewhere to go."

x

It takes a while, but Steve finally manages to convince Bucky to let the doctor set his arm. He doesn't want the doctor anywhere near him, starts shaking like a frightened animal as soon as Steve even suggests it. He keeps whispering "No" frantically under his breath until Steve kind of wants to cry himself.

Eventually, he manages to get Bucky up on the gurney (after he turns it over) and as long as he stays right there and keeps his hand on Bucky's back, he lets the doctor come near. Not that the doctor seems any more pleased to come near him himself, working as fast as he can and shooting nervous glances at Bucky the whole time. Steve observes his old friend as they set his arm, noting the way Bucky watches the doctor with terrified eyes, his whole body leaning as far away as he can get without interfering with the process, and when the doctor does the actual setting of the bone Bucky makes a noise of protest in the back of his throat – almost a growl - and his eyes go darker, Steve sees anger start to seep into the fear that's already there.

"It's okay Buck, almost done," he says quickly, but keeps his voice light, and he puts his hand on the back of Bucky's neck instead and rubs gently, feels the muscles under his hand relax ever so slightly, and Bucky's eyes flip over to Steve, and there is something there, something. Steve wouldn't call it trust, but it isn't fear or anger either. "Almost done," he says again, and Bucky's gaze doesn't leave him until the doctor is finished.

x

He's oddly calm in the car. Steve had worried he'd feel closed in or threatened, but he settles down in the passenger seat and seems strangely relaxed, his blue eyes lighter and his jaw unclenching.

Steve eyes him as he starts up the car, and Bucky looks at him too, his expression somewhere between blank and questioning.

"All right?" Steve asks, trying for a smile.

Bucky doesn't answer, at least not for the next five minutes or so, and Steve doesn't say anything. But when they reach the highway, Bucky suddenly clears his throat, very quietly. "I like driving." His voice wavers a little and rises at the end as though he's not sure if it's true.

"Yeah?" Steve grins. "You always did! We took a few road trips back in the day, you always loved the driving part. I mean, you used to let me drive and you'd fall asleep, or you'd just stare out the window..." His voice trails off as Bucky's eyebrows lower, he bites his lip again, stares at the dashboard.

"I don't remember."

"Yeah, sorry Buck. I didn't mean to..." He trails off.

They drive in silence for a while, and Steve doesn't even know what to feel. Joy? Fear? Anger? Joy for sure. Joy that he has his best friend back (kind of) and he's not dead. God, the amount of guilt he had felt for so long... Fear too though. Fear at what Bucky might do, fear that he isn't actually Bucky anymore. But that is something that Steve doesn't really allow himself to think about, because no, no my Bucky IS in there, and I'll find him. And... there's a lot of anger. Anger at Hydra, what they did to Bucky. When he'd read that file... seen the pictures...

"I saw the pictures."

Steve jumps at Bucky's quiet words, tries to pretend he didn't.

"What pictures?" The pictures in the file?

"At the... museum."

Steve glances at Bucky quickly.

"I saw you and – and... me. I think it was me."

"It was you." Steve's eyes burn a bit, somewhere way back. He blinks quickly.

"But – but I don't remember." Bucky's voice cracks, when Steve glances at him again his eyes are shiny. "How could I just... forget all that?" The light from outside slides across Bucky's face smoothly, constantly changing.

"Because they made you forget," Steve replies immediately, and the burning behind his eyes disappears and is replaced by rage, pure rage. They stole my friend from me. They hurt him.

If I could, I'd kill them all.

x

The first night is actually the easiest. By the time they get back to Steve's place, Bucky is asleep, his head leaning against the window, young face worried and defensive even at rest. Steve can't bear to bother him, because although his expression says it is not peaceful, he seems to be in a deep sleep, and Steve suspects he hasn't had a good night's sleep in a long time.

He's slightly curled against the window, broken arm in its sling tucked tightly against his side, the metal arm laying loosely in his lap. Steve looks at it for a long time.

Even though it's extremely uncomfortable in the car, at least for him, and by the morning his legs are so cramped he has to walk around for ages and stretch to relieve the pain, later he still thinks of that night fondly, because after that... not a single night goes by which is that peaceful again.

x

"Here we are!" Steve swings open the door to his apartment and stands back to let Bucky go first, but Bucky hangs back, seeming to shrink into himself, dark eyes wary, and his metal hand tightens into a fist. Steve thinks maybe his chin is trembling. So Steve goes in first, and Bucky follows him with only a slight hesitation.

"What do you think?" Steve closes the door behind them, checks the lock. "I've got a guest bedroom, it's all yours now. Come on, I'll show you."

Excitement is bubbling up in his chest, even though Bucky looks scared and his shoulders keep twitching. He's back, he's back. He's really back.

"What do you think?" Steve asks again as they stand in the guest bedroom. It's not much – just a simple room with a double bed and a nightstand with a lamp, the duvet a plain dark burgundy.

"It's – great," Bucky says haltingly, and his mouth does something funny, a little quirk, as though maybe – just maybe – he wants to smile. His eyes have lightened to a cool blue and he looks at Steve with something like gratitude.

Steve swallows and turns away, blinking. Suddenly he can't bear that look. You shouldn't be grateful to me. "Well, it's all yours."

x

That night Bucky wakes up growling like a wild animal and punches a hole clean through the wall.

Steve lurches up out of a light sleep and runs to the door to find his friend huddled in the corner of the room, just like he was at the hospital, eyes huge and terrified.

"Hey hey hey!" Steve is instantly awake. "You okay?" He starts to hurry forward but stops abruptly when Bucky flinches and cowers away from him, his metal arm held up as though protecting his head.

Steve inches forward, holding up his hands. "Hey. It's all right. I'm not gonna hurt you Buck, promise. It's me. It's Steve." He crouches down beside his friend and when he touches his shoulder, he can feel his entire body trembling, hear his rapid, terrified breathing. "It's okay," he says again, even though it's not, and that's when he sees the hole in the wall. It goes right through to the neighbour's apartment.

"Sorry," Bucky whispers when he sees Steve's face. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean..." His eyebrows furrow, he looks like he's going to cry.

"Don't apologize," Steve says immediately. "It's fine. Don't worry. Come on Buck." He coaxes his shaken friend out to the living room, gets him a glass of water that Bucky only eyes blankly, and then he phones up Tony Stark.

x

"Hey Captain Underpants. Can't say I was surprised to hear from you."

Tony smiles pleasantly, leaning out the door. He's wearing running shoes and a greasy wifebeater, carrying a dirty rag, even though it's something like four o' clock in the morning. He takes in Bucky, who is standing behind Steve looking apprehensive.

"Hi. I'm Tony. Tony Stark. Maybe you've heard of me, I'm something of a celebrity around here, it's pretty funny..." His voice trails off into nothing as Bucky just stares at him, eyebrows furrowed, silent. "O-kay... this is awkward." Tony raises his eyebrows at Steve. "I don't think your friend likes me."

Steve sighs and rubs his forehead. He's so tired. "Look Stark, it's been a long night. You said it's okay for us to stay here for a while right?"

"Yeah yeah, I did, slow your roll. I've got some pretty fancy rooms for ya... are we talking separate rooms or did you guys wanna buddy up? I got both choices, I'm rich that way..."

Steve glances back at Bucky as they head inside, and his friend just looks back at him with tired eyes. "Let's try separate for now," Steve says finally. He wants Bucky to feel independent, not like Steve is keeping him here against his will.

x

That night, he's woken up by sharp knocking at his door. Steve groans and hauls himself up, opening the door to find a harrassed looking Tony with a serious case of bed-head and a bloody lip.

"Hey Il Capitano. Just thought you'd want to know that Frosty the Snowman is currently freaking out in the living room. He started banging on my door and when I opened it he kind of – yeah – punched me in the face. I think perhaps he was looking for you. Just a wild guess."

Steve pushes past him and runs full-out to the living room, where he finds Bucky on the floor, huddled with his back against the couch. "Bucky, you okay?"

Steve forgets to approach him with caution and Bucky jumps a mile and shoves himself away so fast he kind of falls, landing on his metal elbow. Steve grabs his arm quickly. "It's okay, it's me. It's Steve."

"Steve?" Bucky voice sounds raw, like he's been screaming for a very long time. He freezes, his head tilted back, breathing hard, wide eyes fixed on Steve.

"It's all right," Steve says again, and he tries to pull his friend closer, but Bucky pushes him back roughly, and Steve hits his back against the couch, unable to hide a grunt as one of his wounds shoots forked lightning up his spine.

"Sorry. Sorry. I'm sorry. Steve..." Bucky ducks his head and curls over a little, his face scrunching as though in pain. In the dim moonlight coming in through the windows, Steve thinks he catches the shine of tears on his friend's face.

"Okay. Okay." Shaken, Steve stands up, presses a hand against the bullet wound, looks down at his friend on the floor. "Want me to go?"

"No. Please don't. Please." Bucky sits up abruptly, and for the first time since he's come back to him, Bucky moves toward Steve first. He gets up on his knees and holds out his metal hand, and Steve, hardly daring to hope, reaches out and takes it, and Bucky lets Steve pull him to his feet. They stand facing each other for a moment, there in the dark, and Steve looks into Bucky's wide, dark, frightened eyes and he sees his friend, he sees James Buchanan Barnes, just a broken version of him. But it's him, it is.

"Please don't leave me alone again," Bucky whispers, his voice wavering, and his chin starts to quiver. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I pushed you, I'm sorry I hit your friend, I'm sorry – I can't... control... please." His metal fist is clenched, emotions so very very close to spilling over.

Steve realizes suddenly his friend is begging, and he reaches forward and lays a hand on his shoulder. "Buck. It's okay. I'm not going to leave you. Ever again. I swear."

Bucky sniffs and lowers his head, but he doesn't take his eyes off Steve, and Steve can see the struggle going on just under the the surface, the struggle to decide whether or not to trust Steve. It breaks his heart.

Tony clears his throat quietly. "So I guess you'll be wanting that room together now?"

x

Within a few days time, Steve is beyond exhausted. The thing is, Bucky just doesn't sleep. Oh, he tries. But always within an hour or so of going to sleep, he's woken up by nightmares. One night he woke up crying. Steve lay in bed and wondered whether or not he should intervene, listened to him crying softly into his pillow for ten minutes before he couldn't stand it anymore and went to his bedside. He'd rubbed his back – t-shirt damp with sweat - slowly up and down until Bucky's tears subsided and he just lay there limply, his metal hand laying only an inch or so from Steve's own.

One night he woke up screaming, a hoarse, agonized scream that made Steve's blood run cold and the hairs stand up all over his body, and he knew that Bucky was dreaming about being tortured, having his mind wiped, being experimented on. Maybe he was dreaming about the arm being attached. Steve's seen the pictures. He knows. He goes to Bucky's side but Bucky is terrified, terrified of everyone and everything and he won't let Steve touch him, but he does seem somewhat comforted by Steve being close and he leans towards Steve like he wants the contact, but not all the way.

But Steve is tired, he is so tired. His eyes feel like sandpaper all the time and his body still hurts from the helicarrier fight and he needs sleep that he is not getting. He knows Bucky's in the same boat. His friend has dark patches under his eyes and he has no energy – he's even losing the energy to push people away. Two days after they get there Tony comes right up and checks out his metal arm while Bucky is laying on the couch, and Bucky only eyes him warily - his eyes flicking quickly over to Steve to reassure himself - then he just lays there while Tony exclaims over 'the craftsmanship', looking beat down and miserable.

x

The fourth night they're in Stark Tower, Steve wakes up predictably to a scream of pain and fear, and he shoots bolt upright in the bed and squints toward Bucky's bed. It's actually early in the morning – they managed to get a bit more sleep than usual tonight – but in the dim light of dawn, Steve can see clearly that the bed is empty, the sheets hanging onto the floor.

He curses under his breath and scrambles out of bed, shoving aside his own sheets roughly. "Bucky?" He calls softly, and of course there's no reply. He starts to run towards the door when he happens to glance out the window – Bucky is standing on the balcony outside, his shoulders heaving, metal hand pushing back his hair, just looking up into the sky.

Steve pads to the door and opens it carefully, steps out onto the balcony. The stone is cool but not cold under his feet, and the morning air is crisp and clean.

"Bucky?" he says quietly, not wanting to startle his friend, and Bucky looks back at him immediately. His eyes are wet and he looks so, so lost.

"Hey." Steve takes a step closer, trying to calm his pounding heart. "You okay?"

Bucky looks back at the sky for a moment as though trying to decide something, and then he abruptly sits down, pulling his knees up to his chest. He looks up at Steve with pleading eyes. "Talk to me."

"What?" Steve is taken aback.

Taking his surprise the wrong way, Bucky winces apologetically, his voice wavering. "Please. Sorry. Please talk to me."

"Of course I'll talk to you. What do you want me to talk about?" Steve sits down, close to Bucky, so close their shoulders are almost touching, and his friend doesn't move away.

"Tell me about – about me. About me and you. Please. I – I want to know. I want to remember." He rests his chin on his knees for a second, and Steve thinks again how Bucky looks so very young for his age. His chest hurts, somewhere around his heart. "Yeah. Okay. Sure. Of course."

And he starts talking. He starts with them becoming friends, when they were just little boys. He tells him about how little James Buchanan Barnes would look after little Steve Rogers on the playground, stick up for him, and how sometimes Steve Rogers would have to look after James Barnes too after that 'sticking up for Steve', when he was bloody and bruised and trying really hard not to cry. He tells him about how proud James was to have his first girlfriend, but how he'd made sure she brought a friend for Steve so they could double-date.

Bucky's eyes stay fixed on Steve's face, listening so intently he reminds Steve of an animal, frozen, a panther maybe.

Sometimes Steve sees tears in Bucky's eyes. He doesn't know whether it's because he remembers, or because he wishes he remembered.

Steve moves on to James joining the army and going off to war, and Steve getting recruited for a very special mission.

When he gets to the part about Austria, and the beating the 107th took, Bucky's face changes. He sits up a little straighter.

"And then..." Steve hesitates. "And then I found you, and you were..."

"On a table."

Steve stares at him in shock.

"I was – I was on a table and..." He pauses and squeezes his eyes shut, knocking his metal knuckles against his forehead in frustration. "And..."

Steve realizes he's holding his breath. Come on Bucky... come on, you can do it.

"...and then you took me off the table. And you – you said – you said 'I thought you were dead'."

"Yeah. Yeah that's exactly what happened." Steve realizes his own cheeks are wet, and realizes right after that he doesn't even care.

"It hurt," Bucky's voice sounds like he's ten years old again. "It hurt... so bad. What they did." He's crying now too, softly. "I was so, s-so scared. But y-you found me. I remember." And he smiles then, even through his tears, the first smile Steve's seen on his face in so so long. It's just a small smile but it's enough for now. God, it's enough.

Steve leans over and wraps his arm around Bucky's shoulders, and Bucky flinches just the tiniest bit. Steve's ready to back off quick if he needs to but then Bucky slides over closer, and he leans his head on Steve's shoulder.

"Missed you Steve," he says, very quietly, and Steve isn't sure if he means back in the war when he was a POW, or if he means in the vast chasm of time between now and then, and he decides not to ask, he just tightens his arm around Bucky and feels his old friend melt a little closer. Maybe relaxed for the first time.

"I missed you too, Buck. God I missed you so much."

He becomes aware of their surroundings for the first time since he started talking – the sun is up now, the stone under their bare feet is warm. It's going to be a hot day. He's pretty sure he can hear loud rock music from a few floors down.

There's more to the story of course, a train, and the moment when time stopped and nothing was ever, ever the same again, but Steve thinks that story can wait for now.

Bucky remembers. He remembers. Even if it's just that one thing... it's a start.

x

I have no clue if I'm going to continue this. Part of me thinks I have more to write about these two... but who knows.

Thank you for reading and please leave me a review on your way out! :)