Disclaimer: I don't own Captain America, in any of its multimedia forms.

Contrary to popular belief, Steve Rogers wasn't used to being hungry. When he was a child, his mother had always managed to put some sort of food on the table, even if it was only ham bone soup. Because he was so small, he never ate much to begin with; adding in the fact that he was regularly sick meant he ate even less. And still Sarah Rogers worried day in and day out that she wasn't doing enough.

Even after she had passed and he and Bucky had moved into a place by themselves, they always prioritized food. In the later years, Steve had picked up a graphic design job for a few hours a week. Though this allowed them slightly more freedom with their finances, a good portion of their paychecks were still spent on foods that provided better nutrition than the cheap stuff they'd been buying previously.

Then, after his transformation, Steve was granted additional rations, thanks to Howard spouting technobabble in Phillips' direction until he'd signed the order. He wasn't very physically active while on tour, so the increased rations were enough to tide him over until the next meal, though he could never say he felt well and truly full. It was only during his sessions with Howard, where they working to safely quantify the limits of his new abilities, that he began to understand what real hunger felt like.

Rogers' last meal had been just before his scheduled show in Italy—that'd been over eight hours ago. He'd shoved food into the duffel bag he intended on taking with, knowing he was going to need it if the trip back took longer than he expected, but after the storm had hit, he'd been forced to swap the duffel bag for a parachute, so as not to further endanger Peggy or Stark. Before he'd jumped however, he'd stuffed as much food as he could into the pockets of his cargo pants, hoping that that'd be enough to get him home.

Steve's stomach rumbled loudly as he and Bucky hustled out of the Hydra base, but he was fairly certain it was masked by the flames crackling behind him. His senses were on hyper-alert as they crossed the open ground between the base and the tree line, his eyes constantly scanning their surroundings for any possible threats. In his peripheral vision, he saw Bucky stumble over the uneven ground, so he reached back and grabbed the front of his friend's shirt, steadying him as they raced toward safety.

When they were about halfway to the forest, Steve heard the click of a safety being released and dove for the ground, dragging Bucky, whose shirt he was still clutching, with him. The bullet passed harmessly over their heads but that didn't stop Steve from pulling the shield from his back and jabbing it lengthwise into the ground in front of them. He spared a quick glance at Bucky who was lying on his back next to the supersoldier, struggling to catch his breath after the air had been knocked out of his lungs, and cursed himself for not bringing a proper weapon along. He had a knife lashed to his belt, but that wasn't going to do much good against the entire armed squadron behind the tree line, American or not.

As his brain scrambled to come up with a plan, he heard a deep voice yell "Hold your fire! It's Barnes and the Captain!"

Bucky perked up slightly and flipped onto his stomach, cautiously peeking around the shield. "Dum-Dum?" he rasped.

"You bet your ass! Hurry on in, boys. We got you covered."

Steve turned his head to look at Bucky, who nodded. "They're alright, Steve."

"Let's move then," he said, without any hesitation. He trusted Bucky's judgement implicitly, even (or especially) in the middle of a battleground.

The boys from Brooklyn stood, pausing only to let Steve yank his shield from the ground, then crossed the distance to the tree line in record time.

Once they'd reached the forest, a thickset man wearing a bowler hat hurried toward them. "You made it!" he shouted as he slung his rifle onto his back and pulled Bucky into a tight bear hug. "How are you, man?"

In the weak light from the burning base, Steve could see Bucky freeze in the man's embrace and heard his breathing hitch. The other man must have as well, for he quickly released Bucky and took a large step back. "Sorry."

"Not a big deal," Bucky responded with only a slight slur, the panic slowly disappearing off his face. "It's good to see you, Dum-Dum," he said after a moment, reaching out his hand.

After a brief hesitation and a questioning glance, Dum-Dum shook it enthusiastically, unable to stop himself from clapping Barnes on the shoulder as well. "Same to you, kid."

Then he released Bucky's hand and turned to face Steve. "I don't think I caught your real name," he said, extending his hand in Rogers' direction. "Dum-Dum Dugan."

"Steve Rogers." The supersoldier returned the handshake.

"How do you know our Bucky here?"

"We grew up together," Barnes said, stepping around Dum-Dum so he was standing at an equal distance from both Dugan and Steve.

"This is Steve Steve?" Dum-Dum asked and Bucky nodded. "I thought you said he was a shrimp."

Despite the gravity of the current situation, Steve shot Bucky an unamused look. "Twenty years of friendship and that's what you told them about me?"

It was meant to be a lighthearted remark, but Bucky jerked backwards so quickly it was as if he'd been physically burned. "I never said 'shrimp'," he sputtered, his blue eyes wide with fear. "I said 'smaller in stature'."

Rogers' gut clenched, his hands slowly curling into fists, as he watched Bucky desperately try to wipe the terrified expression off his face. Barnes had never been timid as a kid, giving as good as he got in the schoolyard or in verbal fight. It killed Steve to think that something had happened in isolation to make him this afraid of a small jest.

After a second of murderous thoughts, he forced himself to take a breath and bury his anger—right now they needed to focus on getting back to base in one piece. After that had been accomplished, he could worry about making Schmidt pay for what he'd done to his friend.

"Barnes!" someone shouted and Steve blinked the red from his vision in time to see an African-American man running in their direction, flanked by a shorter Frenchman and a man in a beret. All three looked thrilled to see Bucky alive and in one piece.

They charged toward their squadmate but Steve stepped in their path, Bucky's panicked expression still fresh in his mind. The men slowed to a halt uncertainly but didn't yet try to pass the supersoldier.

"Take it easy guys," Dum-Dum interjected, trying to sound casual. The three men nodded and walked more slowly around Steve.

"It's good to see you, Barnes!" the man in the beret said with a strong British accent.

Bucky looked up and schooled his face into a relaxed expression when he saw his friends. He huffed out an uneven breath, straightened up, then over-dramatically rolled his eyes. "C'mon," he drawled, throwing out his arms.

The three men didn't immediately move and instead turned in unison to look at Steve for permission. The supersoldier bit back a laugh at the overeager expressions and shrugged, lifting one hand in an "it's his call" gesture. They each shot him a quick salute before rushing their friend and burying him in cheers, claps on the back and other forms of celebration. After just a minute, they backed off, enthusiastic expressions still on their faces.

"Thanks, guys," Bucky began as he pushed his newly-mused hair out of his eyes. "But I told ya I was coming back. It takes more than that to—" he trailed off upon seeing the mortified expressions on his squad's faces, and how Steve's had drained of almost all its already pasty color. "I won't finish that sentence," he amended meekly.

"That's probably a smart call," the African-American man declared, before turning to face Steve. "So, who are you?"

After proper introductions had been made, Montgomery Falsworth stepped forward. "What's the plan, Captain?" he questioned.

Having never been addressed as 'Captain' in a context that wasn't related to his stage performance, Steve instinctively scanned the people surrounding him, looking for someone else with that rank. "Me?" he clarified a second later, after realizing his mistake.

"Yeah. What's the plan for getting back to base?" Falsworth repeated, his brows furrowing in distrust. "You do have a plan, don't you?"

"Honestly it kinda ended with 'get all the survivors out'." Steve fell silent, waiting for what was sure to be an outcry from the men.

Surprisingly, the only person who spoke up was Dum-Dum. "You know your way back to base, don't you?" he asked.

Steve nodded and pointed over his shoulder in the appropriate direction. "Forty miles, southwest."

"Then I'm all for not fixing what isn't broken."

Steve instinctively shot Bucky a quick glance, needing to make sure his friend was alright with this new turn of events. Without any hesitation, Bucky grinned and deadpanned, "Looks like you're giving the orders now, Steve."

"Okay then." Rogers was quiet for a moment as he glanced upward and took in the position of the fading sun. "We have a few more hours until nightfall. The further we get away from base, the better. Let's treat as many injured as we can and put those who can't walk on the tank or in the truck." He was referring to the two vehicles parked in the distance that the 107th had confiscated from the Hydra base.

"I have a little bit of medical training. I'll get started on that." The small group turned around to see an Oriental man standing at the edge of their circle, having listened to their every word. "Name's Morita," he said, as if that explained everything.

"Steve Rogers."

"Yeah, I've heard. Thanks for getting us out of there." He shot Steve a crisp salute, before he walked over to the group of soldier milling around a few yards away and relayed their new "orders".

"What about us?" Jones questioned, pointing at himself, Dugan, Dernier and Falsworth.

Steve scanned the destruction around him, honing in on the corpses scattered around the base, mostly Hydra, but some American. "Bury those that didn't make it and grab their tags. Get as many men as you can to help."

"On it Cap." Dum-Dum affirmed as Jones quickly relayed the message to Dernier in French. When he was finished, Dernier nodded, then led the way to find more manpower.

Bucky turned to follow the retreating figures, but Steve reached out to grab his friend's arm. He pulled back at the last minute when he remembered how Bucky reacted when Dum-Dum had hugged him without warning and settled for hurrying next to his friend and calling out, "Wait, Buck."

Barnes slowed to a stop then fixed his friend with a questioning glance. "What's up, Steve?"

"Why don't you help me check the tank? Make sure Hydra can't track us."

"Sure." Thinking that discussion was over and more than a little surprised by how well it had gone, Steve began walking toward the tank. He stopped when he realized Bucky wasn't following him and turned back around to see his friend standing at attention, his heels dug into the ground and his arms crossed over his chest. "As long as you're asking me to do this because you think I will excel at it, not because you don't think I can handle anything else," Barnes finished, his gaze ripe with challenge.

"No, Bucky, that's not it." Steve exhaled loudly as he scrubbed a hand over his face. He stared at his friend for a moment, taking in his unusually pale complexion, the dark circles ringing his eyes, and the bruise that was blossoming on his left cheekbone in the splashes of brightness from the dwindling fire. Bucky was loyal to a fault and would happily throw himself back in with everyone else, regardless of what he had just been through. In a rather bizarre turn of events, this time it would be up to Steve to look after Bucky, if he wouldn't do it himself. "You've been through a lot," Steve finally said. "I just want you to take it easy for a while."

"They've all had it rough too," Bucky shot back. "I have no right to do any less."

"None of them spent time in isolation."

"If you're worried about me, you could just say so."

"Okay, fine: I'm worried about you. Before I left, Falsworth said no one has ever come back from isolation before."

"Yeah well I got lucky." Bucky was hoping that phrase would have a greater effect but the concerned expression remained on his friend's face.

He sighed and quickly weighed his options. He could outright refuse and risk Steve's wrath (which was rather impressive for his previous stature, so Bucky wasn't sure he wanted to be the first to try it against Steve's current physique), but in all honesty, he wasn't feeling quite normal and would actually appreciate a little down time, especially until he figured out what had happened to him during the three days he'd been in isolation. His memory was still fairly foggy—most likely due to the drugs he'd been given—so he could only remember bits and pieces of his time there.

He subconsciously tugged on his right sleeve and pulled it past the crook of his elbow, where he'd seen fading track marks earlier. "Fine," Bucky conceded, drawing out the last syllabus with great exasperation. "I'll help you do your grunt work."

Steve's face split into a large grin. "Good, cos I would have ordered you to do so if you hadn't agreed willingly."

Bucky's jaw dropped. "They really gave you the title of Captain?" he gaped in Steve's direction.

The once-sickly boy considered his answer, not wanting to outright lie to his friend. Now that he'd actually seen combat, he wasn't sure what Phillips would do, especially since he'd be considered AWOL after missing his show this afternoon. There was a chance he'd be thrown into a lab upon their return, never to deploy again. Until then, though, he would use his title as a shield to protect those he cared about, and deal with any consequences when they were safely back at camp.

"That's so not fair," Bucky muttered, taking Steve's silence as an answer. He stared at his friend, then shook his head in disbelief.

Rogers responded with a wide grin. "You'll get used to it," he said, as he began walking toward the tank.

This time, Bucky followed.

They spent another hour at the base, then walked for about the same length of time. At that point, it was far too dark to see even the road in front of them, as the moon was hidden behind the thick storm clouds, so they made camp in a nearby clearing.

The able-bodied men divided themselves into groups and split off to locate water, tend to the wounded, and collect the food they could find either around the camp or in the vehicles. Even with Steve contributing almost all the food in his pockets to the cause, with around 400 men to feed, no one was going to receive more than a few handfuls of miscellaneous food items.

Steve kept a close eye on Bucky throughout all this. Though Barnes still wasn't quite as animated as he usually was, he was putting on a great show that he was suffering no ill effects from his time in isolation. But Steve had known Bucky for too long to be fooled by his friend's antics. He also knew that approaching Bucky directly would be the fastest way for him to never get an answer, so he resigned himself to making sure Bucky wasn't too far out of sight at any given point in time, should anything happen, trying to not make it obvious he was hovering.

Then, as night fell, Rogers began organizing the healthy men into shifts for watch duty. Bucky volunteered as soon as Steve suggested the idea and, almost immediately, Dum-Dum, Falsworth, Jones, and Morita took it upon themselves to explain—very loudly and prolifically—why that was a bad idea. Bucky took the onslaught quietly but his eyes widened in slight confusion at the continued outpouring of concern from his squadmates. When they had finished, he just sat by the fire, mumbling the entire time about how he wasn't an invalid.

Steve shot the group a silent thanks as he continued to assign watches and distribute weapons. When he had finished twenty minutes later, he walked over to the fire and sat down beside his friend.

Bucky glanced briefly at Rogers then turned back to the fire and stared intently at the flickering flames. "It's permanent?" he asked a beat later, as he stuck out his hands to warm them.

Steve was unsure if Bucky wanted to clarify the answer he'd received earlier, or that he just didn't remember asking all together. Steve'd seen the vials lined up around the table, so he was more than a little concerned his friend had been drugged, especially given how he had zoned out a few times on the way over here, still physically awake, but his eyes were empty, as if he were somewhere else entirely.

"So far," Steve repeated.

"Good," was all Bucky said as he nodded exactly once.

Steve let a few minutes of silence pass, as he tried to decide how to phrase his next question. He finally decided to be marginally direct, but wouldn't press the issue if Barnes declined to share.

"So how are you doing?" he ventured, trying his best to sound nonchalant.

"Steve, I'm fine. You can stop asking," Bucky shot back without looking away from the fire.

"I'm not—I only asked once!"

"You've been watching me since we left the base."

So much for being discrete. "I'm just—"

"Mother-henning," Bucky interrupted, quirking his eyebrow in an accusatory manner.

"I learned from the best," Steve retorted.

They sat for a few more minutes in silence, listening to the flames crackle around them.

"You'd tell me if something was going on, right?" Steve ventured hesitantly. He wasn't looking for the details of what had happened, just whether or not Bucky still trusted him in the same way he had when they were kids.

Bucky turned and looked at Steve for a long moment. He wanted more than anything to say no, but not for the reason his friend would automatically think. Steve didn't need to know about what he'd been through, because he didn't need to have any part of that burden—no one did. Barnes was already tired of the looks of pity and disbelief from his unit, and they were only a few hours out.

"I'm just here to help," Steve continued when Bucky didn't immediately respond. And if Bucky wasn't mistaken, his friend sounded a bit hurt.

"I know that, Steve. But I'm good. Really."

Rogers stared at his friend for a long time, reading his expressions and not seeing any signs of deceit. Though he didn't completely believe Barnes was as fine as he wanted everything to think he was, Steve knew he wasn't being flat-out lied to, which given the circumstances, was more than he could have hoped for.

"Get some sleep man," he said, lightly elbowing Bucky in the side as he lay down next to the fire and closed his eyes. "We've got a long day's walk ahead of us."

Thanks for reading! The next chapter will be up soon!