Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

One thing is for certain, Bucky knows he can’t go back into the ‘real world’ until he knows he isn’t a threat to anyone.  The only thing he doesn’t know is how long that’s going to take.  

For the first couple of weeks after he leaves Steve on the side of the river, his only goal is to make sure that Steve survived.  After giving the hospital proper surveillance, he knows Steve’s going to make it, and he leaves for New Jersey the very next day.  

The taxi takes him into the city in the middle of the night, and drops him at the first cheap hotel Bucky sees.  He doesn’t know if his Hydra issued credit cards will still work, or if he can remember how to use them, but he has to hope for the best.  

According to the ATM screen (after he finally gets it work) he’s only got $250 dollars to his name.  They have him down as “Anton Vavilov”, though he knows now that’s not who he really is.  He tells the hotel receptionist his name is James, though he’s not sure that name is fitting anymore either.  

“You know, you look just like that guy in the museum,” the woman tells him, snapping her gum loudly, “But I’m sure you get that a lot, huh?”

He clears his throat and asks her who she’s referring to, his voice comes out gruff with a strange accent to it.

“The one who was with Captain America, in the video.  My kid had to go to New York for a field trip the other day, and they had this video in one of the museums about how Cap’s friend, Bubba or somethin', died in a train accident or somethin’.”

“Oh, sorry, I’ve never heard of him before.  I’m not.. from around here.”

“I got that by the accent darlin’,” the woman says, “What is that, Austrian or somethin’?”

“Russian,” Bucky tells her uncomfortably.

“Oh, right, Russia. That giant winter wonderland.  Alright, well enjoy your stay hun.” She handed Bucky the hotel key and went back to her TV program.  It was in color, Bucky noticed.  There were a lot of things he was going to have to get used to in 2014.

Current Threat Level Status: unknown

Chapter Text

In the morning he had to leave the hotel.  He didn’t have enough money to stay another night, and he really needed to go to New York.  That’s where Steve was from, supposedly.  

There was only so much he remembered from the past.  It came in waves.  Sometimes he felt 100% like the Russian assassin he still resembled.  He would mutter in Russian, clean his weapons, put on his black war paint… and then when he woke up he was disgusted by the face he saw in the mirror and couldn’t remember why he had a loaded gun under his pillow.  

The good thing was he didn’t mind being out on the streets because he was fairly used to it.  Or least one facet of him was.  He started to look at his existence as a multi-sided die.  Certain aspects of Bucky Barnes still remained, like the odd desire for everything to be orderly and military-like, and the bits and pieces of his own biography.  Then there were the aspects of the Russian guy, whoever he was, that remembered how to work modern things like phones and TVs, but that was restless and paranoid.  His brain flipped back and forth at random.  Some days he got a good balance of the two, the part that felt human and the part that knew how to hail a cab without being run over in the busy NYC streets.  

Being in New York was dragging up some old memories, and that felt good.  At night he would find a place to settle down in Central Park, his stealth senses made it easy not to get caught by any guards.  He remembered getting hot dogs with Steve at Coney Island, going to bars and trying to pick up women…

Time drifted by slowly.  The local paper told him it was almost September, and the fall breeze agreed.  It was beginning to get chilly, but Bucky’s body was used to the Russian cold.  When it started to get really bad he found a shelter to stay the night in.  The free soup there was better than the pretzels and candied nuts he’d been stealing from street carts.  He used their restroom to splash some water on his face and slick his hair back so it didn’t hang in his eyes.  He hadn’t bothered to try and cut it because it didn’t feel right yet, who ever he was right now didn’t care how he looked.  The tangled mess of brown locks fell just passed his shoulders now, creating a stark contrast to the single photo of James Barnes he’d seen.

In the mess hall a man with tired eyes sat across from him, looking for someone to talk to.  

“Where ya from?” the man asked with a thick New York accent.

His own voice came out still marred with a hint of a Russian accent, “I think Indiana.”

“Been that long since you been home? That you don’t remember, huh?” the man let out a deep belly laugh, “You don’t look old enough to be that lost, kid.”

Bucky shrugged, “Not much I can do about it.”

The man sighed, “I hear that. The name’s Phil, by the way.  What’s yours, kid?”

“James,” Bucky told him stiffly.

“You don’t look much like a James, but if that’s who you wanna be I won’t stop you,”  Phil slurped some coffee from his Styrofoam cup and looked around the room, “This is never where I meant to end up, you know?”

Bucky nodded but didn’t say anything.

“I was in the army, they sent me over to Iraq.  I came back and… Well, you know.  Shit happens.  PTSD will lose you a lot in life if you can’t kick it.  Wife left, took the kids, and here I am.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky replied.

“Hey, don’t be, wasn’t your fault.  I’m sure you’re in a worse situation than me, to end up here so early on.”

“Similar story, actually,” Bucky confided, “Very similar.”

“Ah,” Phil said, slurping more coffee, he looked at Bucky to continue.

“I was, uh… Kidnapped, overseas.  Taken hostage.  I came back and everyone I knew was gone.  And, here I am...”

“Well shit kid, that’s no kind of life story.”

“I’m hoping the ending will be better,” Bucky sighed.  He folded his mitten clad hands in his lap and leaned against the table.  

“You otta try gettin’ a job some place, they’ll take young kids like you just about anywhere if they think you’ve got any background worth using.  I mean even McDonald’s, something.  You can’t afford to live like this, James.  Clean yourself up, get back on your feet.  You’ve still got time to get back on track.  You don’t have anyone that can help you out?”

Not yet, he thought.  “Just me,” Bucky said softly.  Because I don’t trust myself yet. 

Current Threat Level Status : moderate

Chapter Text

Some part of him knew enough to fake a resume.  He wasn’t sure which facet of himself was the clever one, but for the moment it didn’t matter much.  He’d realized that Phil was on to something when he’d said Bucky should get a job somewhere.  

Working at the movie theater seemed to be a pretty good job for him.  The interior space had this thing called “air conditioning” which made it fairly cool and allowed him to wear long sleeves at all times.  At first, the other employees there were a little put off by his constantly wearing of leather gloves, but no one directly questioned him about it.  Eventually, one of the managers just wordlessly handed him a pair of reusable rubber gloves. 

Bucky especially loved it when the theater wasn’t busy and they allowed him to use his free weekly ticket and sit in the back row of a showing.  Modern color films were great, and there were so many to choose from.  He didn’t care for the one about the Princess who shot ice around her kingdom, but he did really enjoy the one about Noah’s Ark.  He couldn’t figure out how they’d made all the animals ride on the boat in the ocean like that until one of the other workers explained that most of it was designed on computers.

He largely went through his days unnoticed by the other staff members, until one day a girl with really long eyelashes named Mandy started talking to him as they served popcorn.  

“Have you ever been to the Intrepid Museum?” she questioned hesitantly.

“Uh no, what do they have there?” Bucky replied flatly.

“It’s a sea, air, and space gallery.  They have a lot of ships and stuff… They had this special exhibit not that long ago on the helicarriers that SHIELD was using… You look just like the guy who was Steve Roger’s old partner, in the film.”

“Sorry, I haven’t seen that film.”

“I mean, there’s no way you’re the same guy.  I watched a few other videos on the internet.  They have a gallery at the Smithsonian and in their videos they talk about how Cap’s partner died in a train wreck… It’s all a little confusing, they make it sound like he was immortal and came back on the helicarrier to kill Captain America.  You should check it out, you’re a dead ringer for that guy.  I bet you could play him in a movie or something.”

“Yeah,” Bucky grumbled, not wanting to keep up conversation.

“It’s such a shame you know?” Mandy sighed, “Cap’s partner, the one who was cool not the killer one, was so charming.”

“I’m sure he was,” Bucky grimaced.

“Oh, sorry… I wasn’t trying to make it seem like you weren’t charming, because you look like the killer one… Okay, I’m just going to stop while I’m ahead… Sorry, sorry…”

Bucky remained quiet, resisting the urge to roughly warn Mandy about bad mouthing people.  Instead he handed two little kids their bags of popcorn and rinsed his buttery hands in the sink.  He scowled after noticing one of the gloves had a tear in the thumb.  So he hurriedly slid it off and replaced it with his leather glove before anyone noticed his gleaming metal hand...

He and Mandy worked without another word until the end of the shift, when Mandy cast a hesitant glance at him and piped up, “You know, come to think of it, you do actually look like both of Cap’s partners… Just… More scruffy than the first.  But less serial killer-esque than the last… I just, wanted to clarify… Have a nice night…”

“You didn’t have to clarify,” Bucky sighed, “But thank you anyway.”

“Have you ever thought about…” Mandy said, gesturing around Bucky’s general being, “You know, trying something… Different?  Like maybe not all black? Or like, at least a hair tie?”

Part of me has, Bucky thought, the other half was too busy trying not to kill people like you… “Yeah,” Bucky muttered, “Not really my thing.”

Mandy looked embarrassed.  Her cheeks turned pink and she tilted her head down so her bangs sort of shielded her from his gaze.  “You seem like a nice guy,” she told him, “I know what its like, to put up that wall? So people don’t ask questions?  But it doesn’t do a lot of good, you just wind up sad and lonely.  Sometimes it's not really fun being open and social at first, but its better than being alone…”

“Thanks, Mandy,” Bucky replied curtly, “You seem nice too.”  He couldn’t imagine her being anything less than the young perky movie theater employee she was currently, but then again he barely knew her.  He was sure it was the same way for her, obviously she couldn’t imagine him being the soldier in a crisp uniform standing alongside Captain Rogers…

Mandy’s voice shook him out of his thoughts and he looked up to see her staring at him expectantly.

“So, is that a yes or…?”

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I said, I know you probably don’t want to, but I was thinking maybe you’d want to get dinner sometime?”

“How old are you, anyway?”

“Twenty three.  Just old enough to live on my own but not old enough to have a good career yet,” Mandy rolled her eyes.

“Oh,” Bucky muttered, “That’s really nice of you, but…”

“And don’t take this the wrong way, but if you ever need a place to stay, my apartment has a futon… Um, just in case you uh… Wanted to know that.”

He felt his face flush, Mandy knew he didn’t have a place to go after work.  He wondered how many other people had figured that out by now.  

“You can’t be more than what, twenty six? So it’s not like there’s a creepy age gap… Well I mean, I don’t think its creepy… Okay, stopping talking…”

“You seem really nice, Mandy, but I’m not sure you want a friend like me, I’m not really the ‘friend’ type.”

She struggled to hide her disappointment, but Bucky saw it clearly on her face.  “Uh, okay… Sorry, to bother you… You must think I’m so strange now… Uh, have a good night…”

“... Maybe a coffee?”

“Uh, yeah…” she smiled a little, “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

He returned the slight smile, “Yeah, I think it would.”

Current Threat Level Status: moderate

Chapter Text

The next time Bucky and Mandy worked the same shift, he knew she was going to want to get coffee after. He was expect that much, but he wasn’t expecting her to start drilling him for information as soon as they walked out the door.  

“So what’s your last name again?”

“Brown,” he replied.

“James Brown, original,” Mandy commented, “Were you named after the musician?”

“Who?”

“Never mind…”

“Sorry, I just didn’t know there was a musician named James Brown, so I guess that answers your question,” he said, forcing a laugh.

“Of course you didn’t…” Mandy mused softly, “If you don’t know James Brown, who do you know?”

“Uh… Glenn Miller,” Bucky offered, “Louis Armstrong?”

“Of course,” Mandy laughed, “Jazz, I should have known.”

“How could you have known? You hardly know me at all, I wouldn’t expect you to know what I like for music...” he questioned.

“Never mind,” Mandy said again, “Okay, so favorite movie?”

“Don’t have one,” Bucky replied honestly.

“You work in a movie theater and you don’t have a favorite movie, go figure.”

He turned away from her as they kept walking but he felt her eyes on him still, it was making him uneasy.

“Are you going to make me do all the talking?” Mandy mumbled as they turned yet another corner.

“Sorry,” Bucky muttered, “Not big on it.”

“You don’t seem to be big on much,” Mandy retorted, “You know, you could have said no to coming with me.”

“Didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” Bucky said lightly.

“Well you are right now, by not giving me anything to work with.  It’s not exactly fun when someone puts theirself out there and you just mope around.  Also, coffee was your idea.”

“Sorry,” Bucky muttered, feeling his cheeks get hot.

“You are one weird dude,” Mandy sighed, “And that’s an understatement…”

“Tell me about yourself,” Bucky blurted, “I’m not that interesting…”

She eyed him suspiciously and then obliged his request.  “Well, you know the basics.  I live in a shit-hole apartment, I went to school for English Literature.  Last name is Handover.  I like Frank Sinatra and my favorite movie is anything with Mark Wahlberg in it...”

“Who’s Mark Wahlberg?”

“Of course, you don’t know him either.  Boston accent, really well muscled guy, used to be a rapper.  He’s in Shooter and Pain & Gain.”

“Uh huh,” Bucky replied, not having a clue what she was talking about.

They reached the coffee shop and he held the door open for her which received a grateful smile. “Chivalry's not dead after all,” she laughed.

He didn’t know what that was supposed to imply, but he didn’t dare admit  it.  

They ordered two coffees and a container of powdered donuts. Mandy got something fancy with whipped milk, and Bucky just took his coffee black, and then they opted to sit at a booth.  Initially neither of them said anything, but then Mandy piped up again.  He was starting to get used to her incessant talking, but he was still uneasy about her constant questions.

“You know, now that I think about it, I don’t know if a ponytail would look good on you after all.”

He tried not to envision suffocating her with his sweatshirt and then stalking out into the night.  Instead he just tried to look interested in what she had to say and sipped his coffee.

“I know its weird, but I have this bad habit of over analyzing people.  And you are definitely not the ponytail kind of guy… I just can’t decide what kind of guy you are.”

“I don’t think I’m any ‘type’ of guy,” Bucky said flatly.

Mandy shrugged, “I guess, maybe.”

“Sorry, that was rude…”

“It’s fine,” Mandy said, “I talk a lot, you don’t.  I get it, I’m annoying you...”

“I’m not used to having to make conversation,” he admitted.

“I can’t imagine why,” Mandy said under her breath, as if he wasn’t supposed to hear.  He let it go, not wanting to hear her theory on his lack of conversation skills.  “My ex boyfriend was a computer analyst for some huge company,” she sighed, “He was all suits and ties, nothing unique.  But he had this stupid haircut that made him look like he walked off of an early Beatles album cover.  It was god awful.”

Beetles album? He’d never heard of an album about bugs, nor could he imagine why anyone would waste money making albums (something expensive to produce) on insects.  Not to mention, as far as he knew beetles didn’t have hair…

“Okay,” he said, “Where is this story going exactly?”

“Sorry, sorry. My point was that I guess sometimes you aren’t one type of person, so its sort of hard to pin down.  So I get it, that maybe you aren’t any type of guy.  I mean, the next time I saw Scott he was joining the National Guard.  He'd shaved his head and he’d started sporting a mustache, which was some how worse than the dumb haircut.”

He studied Mandy for a moment, not being able to place her next to a guy with a mustache and a nice suit.  In fact, she looked a lot like the lead female role in that new movie about Spider Man, which he’d just gotten a free ticket to see earlier that week.  Emma Stacy? No, Gwen Stone?  Mandy wasn’t a pin-up girl by any means, but she was cute and had a bubbly personality.  Not the sort of gal who would wait around for her guy to home home, he decided.  No, Mandy struck him as the type to be attached at the hip to anyone she went steady with. 

“After he broke up with me, I was mortified.  He was the sort of guy people say you’re supposed to end up with.  He had a respectable job, a good place to live, he was going places… I felt like such a failure.  I didn’t talk to anyone for months because I kept thinking there must’ve been something wrong with me for him to just leave…”

“He doesn’t seem like he was that great, Mandy,” Bucky chimed in.

Her face flushed, “No, you’re right.  That’s what I figured out eventually.  But for a while I was so down on myself, I kept thinking about all the bad things I had ever done, and I felt like I was some how responsible for him not wanting me.  But it wasn’t that, he’d just moved on…”

“Sometimes you have to move on,” he mused.

“Yeah,” Mandy sighed, finishing her coffee in one big swallow, “Listen, James.  Um, I just wanted to say, that whatever it is that’s holding you back?  Learn from me, okay? Don’t hold on to all the wrong things.”

As they got up to leave Mandy handed him a small scrap of paper. “Just in case,” she said with a small smile.  And then she left.

As he walked out on to the chilly side walk he looked at the paper and stopped dead in his tracks.

You’re probably going to think this is creepy but I looked you up online, and you don’t exist.  

(At least “James Brown” from Pensacola who studied at MIT doesn’t…)  

Also, I’m not stupid. James Brown?? Come on, at least pick different initials!  

Anyhow, if you ever want to talk, like really talk, about anything, let me know.  

You shouldn’t have to face this alone, and there are people out there who would be more than willing to help you.

-Mandy

456 West 36th Ave, Apt. 4B. 

Current Threat Level Status: considerable

Chapter Text

Mandy knew who he was, somehow.  He wasn’t sure if this was something that should terrify him or put him at ease, but he needed to talk to her. Now.

“Oh good,” Mandy said as she opened the door dressed in her pajamas and half asleep, “It's just you, not a burglar.”

“How did you know,” Bucky growled, holding the note close to her face.

Her eyes went wide with a bit of fright, “I uh, when you took the rubber serving gloves off, to wash your hands, I saw… your ‘hand’.  And I mean I wasn’t sold because people to weird shit like that all the time, especially in New York, so I was like ‘well it could be a tattoo or something’, but then there was the whole fact that you look just like the guy from the video and you don’t know much about anything before the 40s…”

“Please tell me you haven’t told anyone else.”

“Why would I? I wasn’t even sure I was right, but now you’re standing on my front stoop, at midnight, and you look like you’re going to stab me in the neck, so I guess I was… By the way, please don’t stab me.”

“Not going to,” Bucky muttered.

“Gee, thanks,” Mandy replied, her eyes still dilated, “By the way, I got home and someone had left me a small box addressed to you so… If you want it, you can come in…”

Her apartment was up a million flights of stairs and down a lengthy, musty hallway. Inside it was warm and nicely decorated.  Small glass lights on a string hung around the windows, and a collage of magazine cut-outs decorated one of the walls.  

“I was just going to give it to you tomorrow at work, if you showed up, but you can just take it now,” Mandy said as she walked into the kitchenette.  

“How did they know to give it to you?” Bucky questioned.

“Beats me, I don’t even know who its from, it doesn’t say.”

He took the small cardboard box from her and carefully pried the top open.  Inside was a small envelope, a plastic bag with a comb, soap and a clean long sleeve shirt, and a book.  He peeled the envelope open and found a couple of things in it.  One was a plastic card with James B Barnes written in gold raised letters on it, a StarkGold Card to be exact.  The next thing was a piece of lined paper with familiar handwriting scrawled on it.

Buck,

Thought maybe this would be helpful until you’re ready to come back.  

I put $1,000 on it, but I can add more whenever you need it.  

Left this with Mandy because she seems trustworthy. We ran a back-ground check on her, and we're collecting more intel just to be safe. 

If you need anything else just give her a note for me, or leave one taped to the front door.  

I’ll let you have your space, but whenever you want I’ll be here, ready to talk.

Best of Luck,

Steve

The last item was a bronze house key with a little mini Captain America shield key-chain attached to it. 

Current Threat Level Status:  considerable

Chapter Text

The room was pitch black when he woke up, startled.  He had to think for a moment to remember where he was: on Mandy’s futon.  She’d insisted he stay the night because now that she knew The Avengers were watching her she was afraid they’d be upset if she didn’t protect him.  He’d insisted it wasn’t necessary, that he’d been on his own long enough to survive just fine, but she was more persistent than he’d anticipated.

He glanced over at the counter and saw the box from Steve with the key-chain dangling over the side.  A twinge of guilt struck him, for not having made an effort to see him...

He rolled over on the futon so he could look out the window.  The smell of clean sheets wafted up at him, and he felt even more guilty. Why should he, a man who killed so many innocent people, be allowed to sleep on a clean set of sheets?  He was suddenly too aware of all the smells in Mandy's apartment it almost made him dizzy.  Her hand soap smelled like fresh lemons, a glass vase of oil in on her coffee table smelt of lavender.  He'd put on the shirt from Steve so Mandy could run his other one through the wash.  Bucky could smell, faintly, the lingering scent of Steve's favorite cologne in the fabric.  It was mixed with strawberries and cream shampoo, Mandy's favorite, because she refused to let him sleep on clean sheets without showering thoroughly beforehand.  His heart started pounding in his chest and he rolled over again, restless. 

Mandy was too kind to him, and almost naïve about the situation as a whole.  He feared he might hurt her, unintentionally, if the Winter Soldier started to flare up inside him. But she didn't seem to notice he was worried about her safety, and if she'd picked up on it she was hiding it well.  For someone being monitored by well trained special intelligence operatives, and housing a former Russian assassin, Mandy was nothing but level headed and sympathetic.  Some how she finally understood that he liked his space, and didn't enjoy being pestered with questions. Though, she also knew the right ones to ask to get him talking.  Admittedly, he was starting to like that about her.

At around 2am he still hadn't fallen asleep, and Mandy's phone suddenly started ringing.  It was one of those small ones with the glass screen, a cellphone, if he remembered correctly.  He heard footsteps and Mandy emerged from her bedroom, eying him apologetically.  She grabbed her phone off the kitchen counter and walked off, closing herself in the bathroom.  After a lengthy and stressful sounding phone call she came back into the living room.  "Sorry about that, I forgot I had company, I should have taken my phone in my room."

"Not a problem, I couldn't sleep anyhow," he admitted, "Who calls you at 2 am though?"

"Oh," Mandy blushed, "My other job, sorry, I never mention it because people tend to start asking questions I can't answer.  I'm part of the suicide hotline. People can call in if they're in need of someone to talk to to prevent them from killing themselves."

“Oh,” Bucky replied with admiration, “I didn’t know they had those.”

She nodded, “Sorry I woke you, if I did.”

“You didn’t,” he assured her.  

Bucky finally drifted off into a fitful slumber.  The next time he woke up, the sun was sun glinting in his eyes.  There was a mug and a half a pot of coffee left for him with a note from Mandy.

We don’t have to be in to work until 2 pm so I stepped out to grab breakfast.  I can’t cook, and I was guessing you probably can’t either, but I’m out of cereal.  Be back in a bit!

-Mandy

No sooner had he read the note than he heard the patter of shoes coming up the steps.  Mandy’s key jiggled in the lock and she stepped into the apartment carrying a bag of bagels in one hand and a bag of some other stuff in the other.

“I took the liberty of grabbing you a few more shirts so you won’t have to alternate between just the two black ones,” Mandy said, kicking the door shut behind her.  “There’s a dollar store on the corner that opens early, thought you might like something different to wear to work.”

He could see she was blushing a little but didn’t know why.  “How did you know what size to buy? And you didn’t have to do that, really.”

“I looked at the tag of the one you had on, and the one Captain… er, Steve sent you... I guess you’re a large because the one you have on fits fine so…”

"Why are you blushing?" he blurted.

She shook her head, "I'm just flushed from going up those stairs, want a bagel?"

Bucky nodded and took the bags from her, setting them down on the counter. "You don't have to lie to me," he said cautiously, "I'm not going to hurt you if you say something I might not like."

Mandy let out a nervous laugh, "No, I'm not worried I just... Okay, if you must know, I just... I started to realize that I li-"

A knock on the door interrupted her, and she gratefully went to open it.  Outside the door no one was there, but another package lay at the threshold.

One of the envelopes inside was addressed to Mandy, the other to Bucky.

Dear Mandy,

Sorry for the sudden involvement in your life, I'm just thankful Bucky found you.  He has always had a hard time warming up to people, but I think he likes you well enough already.  You should be fine, but if you need help call Stark Tower, extension 34, and just tell them it's Mandy for Steve.  They'll know who you are.  

Don't let him give you a hard time, keep him in his place, and if he's getting under your skin just tell him he's starting to look like a drown rat, that'll shut him up.

Thanks again.

Best,

Steve Rogers

PS: He's oblivious to flirtations, sorry about that.

Buck,

Hope things are working out better for you now that you're staying with Mandy.  I had Natasha drop this stuff off for you, she's in the area so if you want some Russian company you know who to look for. (You remember her, right? Black Widow?)

Anyhow, try to be nice to Mandy. Can't find anything weird about her. She's the best thing you've got going for you right now. 

Best,

Steve

PS: The poor dame is into you, throw the girl a bone.

"What's yours say?"

"Not much."

"Yeah, mine either."

Current Threat Level Status: moderate

Chapter Text

Four weeks later Bucky finally felt like he was settling into life in 2014.  He still felt out of place in the bustling city, and staying in Mandy's apartment. But going to work everyday, having a cellphone, and seeing movies with special effects were all now part of his "normal" routine.  He'd also taken up getting lunch with Mandy at a deli by the theater, and he always paid because he felt bad about still being on her futon. Mandy never said a word about him leaving, in fact she made it clear he was welcome to stay as long as he felt he wanted to.

"Whatever you want to to is what you want to do. This is the 21st century in America, people do what they please, for themselves. There's no shame in crashing on a friend's sofa."

"Well that goes for you, too," Bucky reminded her, "You can ask me to leave whenev-"

She shook her head cutting him off, "You'll know if I want you to leave. I've taken up a no nonsense policy since my last screw up of a roommate/boyfriend left. It wouldn't be a secret if I wanted someone gone from my life."

"Oh," Bucky replied, embarrassed, "Good to know."

'Doing what you want to do' seemed to be the new theme in Mandy's regular pep talks, as it was becoming apparent.  Every time Bucky asked her opinion, it was always "well what do you want?"

Unless it was something directly pertaining to her, Mandy wanted him to choose on his own. It was hard, re-learning how to care about yourself, Bucky realized. He'd been compliant for so long he'd forgotten that he could care about seemingly stupid little things. He could choose what color shirt he wore, what he ordered for lunch, how he liked his eggs with breakfast…

"So you didn't like wolf of Wall Street?" Mandy asked, interrupting his train of thought and shaking some ketchup onto her fries.

"No," Bucky replied honestly. They'd watched it last night on a DVD (which was a type of movie a company called "the Red Box" sold). "Call me old fashion but that was highly inappropriate behavior for a businessman."

"Says the 90 old American, who was a Russian assassin, and swears like a sailor during a heated card game."

"Sorry," Bucky shrugged, running his hand through his hair subconsciously.  Mandy was grinning at him, something he'd noticed she did a lot when they got to talking about movies together.  It made him uncomfortable in a kind of familiar and "good" way?

"Not to mention," Mandy said biting a fry, "You certainly don’t look like 'Mr. 1940s man', so any time you want to stop being a stick in the mud..." She giggled, signaling she was just teasing.  

He sighed, carding through his hair again. After a moment he glanced at her and then said, "I've actually been contemplating... Do you think I should do something … with this?"  

"With your hair?" Mandy asked, raising an eyebrow. "Not my domain, that's up to you. But, I mean I still don't think you're a ponytail kinda guy." She winked at him.

"But I need an honest opinion," Bucky told her earnestly, “Like you said, I'm not 'Mr. 1940s', but I’m also not an assassin anymore... I mean it isn't bothering me to just keep it as is, sort of, it just feels... Wrong, kinda? I'm not the same person I was with Hydra, and I'm not the same guy I was with the US military either so... I don't know.... Forget it, it's a stupid question."

“You’re allowed to ask stupid questions,” Mandy laughed, “Its part of being human.  But seriously, it isn’t up to me to decide. I just think you should do what makes you happy. That impacts me, because I don’t want an unhappy man-who-can-kill-me-with-his-bare-hands on my couch.”

“Got it,” Bucky sighed again, “I’m just... having a hard time figuring out what the current me wants.  I don’t really remember what the old me liked, and Russian-me didn’t like much of anything…”

“Well, we know you like burgers and fries.  You don’t like poppy seed bagels.  Or Leonardo DiCaprio movies.”

“He can’t act!”

“Says you!”

“You just like him because you think he’s charming.”

Mandy blushed deeply and Bucky was reminded of a conversation they’d had before. “Before you knew who I was, you said something about thinking Captain America’s friend in the Smithsonian videos was charming.”

“I was just trying to get a rise out of you, to see if you were him, er, you, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Bucky replied, “I understand, sorry.”

One week later...

“You know, folks like you don’t come in here all too often,” the kind faced woman, standing behind Bucky, said as she fussed with her cart of brushes, clips, and combs, "Usually end up at some sort of salon."

“I’m sure of that,” Bucky sighed, “But I guess there’s always one who does?”

Sheila didn't say anything for a moment, she just placed a cape around his shoulders.  Then, “You look lost, kid... You know, more often than not when I think someone looks lost, it’s because they’ve stopped living life one way, and now they’re thinking it’s high time they started over, but they don't know how. Is that you?”

“Pretty much,” he told her.

Sheila was quiet, spraying his hair with water, “You were in a war, weren’t you? I seen that look one too many times on the face of a young guy, that’s why you’re lost, ain’t it?”

Bucky nodded slowly.  

“My son was in war too, over in Iraq.  Twenty two years old, bravest soul… He wound up just like you when he came back.  Didn’t know up from down, stopped caring… It wasn’t the same seeing him show up for dinner looking bedraggled and distant.  A year after he came back from the war, his depression got the best of him… I hope you pull through, kid.”

“I’m sorry, about your son,” Bucky said softly, “I can’t say I’m in the same exact same state of mind now, but I’ve been there.  It isn’t fun, coming back to the civilian world after seeing battle… It does something to you.”

Sheila nodded gravely, “I’m glad to see you’ve still got your wits about you, kid.  You must have a ray of sunshine tucked in your back pocket, keeping you going.  I wish Jay had that, but I don’t know what good it would have done him, poor kid just never snapped out of it… You keep your chin up, kid.”

“I’ll do my best,” Bucky told her, “Thank you.”

Sheila nodded again, combing his hair, “So, we ain’t gonna shock your system are we? I don’t want to send you out of here with your tail between your legs.”

“Quite frankly ma'am, I think that’s what I might need. My system’s been running a little slow lately.”

Sheila offered a kind smile, “Say, you know, I think I know what would suit you.  Mind if I take a little creative license?”

“Creative sounds like exactly what I need,” Bucky told her, “I just something… different.”

Sheila spun him away from the mirror, and the shop was quiet save for the snip of the scissors and the radio playing over the wall speaker. Bucky had no idea what to expect, but for better or worse, he felt like he could trust Sheila. 

Oddly enough, when he left Sheila’s chair, his 'new' style wasn't something 'different', but rather something very familiar, at least for Bucky.  The face in the mirror was one he hadn’t seen in quite a long time, but it was a surprisingly welcome sight.

There was a hint of something recognition? in Sheila’s eyes when he went to pay her and she asked, “So, what war did you serve in?”

“One too many,” Bucky replied, “That’s all I know.”

“Ah,” Sheila mused, handing him his change, “Well, you have a good day sir.  And thank you, for your service.”

As he walked by the glass shop windows on the way back to Mandy’s, the face he saw looking back at him looked an awful lot like the old Bucky Barnes, and he was beginning to think he was okay with that.

Current Threat Level Status:  moderate

Chapter Text

When Bucky walked into Mandy’s apartment that afternoon he was quite pleased with himself; he was in a better mood than he had been in in months.  But the happiness faded quickly when he realized Mandy was missing.  They’d had an unspoken rule that if she was leaving the apartment for any reason she’d leave a note for him so he’d see it when he got back.  There wasn’t a note anywhere he could see, and one of the windows in her bedroom was open.  Mandy also had a rule about not leaving any doors or windows open, just as a precaution.

You need to call Steve.

He shook away the thought, not wanting to drag Steve into the situation.

You need help. Call Steve.

He dug through several drawers, hopelessly searching for Mandy’s phone number. If he could get his cellphone to work, maybe he could just call her and see if she was okay.  But it was no use, before long he was restlessly throwing papers from her desk drawer on to the floor, in hopes of finding some ‘clue’, but he was coming up empty handed. Bucky knew he was going to have to suck it up and call backup, or Mandy could really be in trouble soon...

“Buck…?”

“Hi, Steve.”

“Oh my… Bucky, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, it’s Mandy… She’s gone, Steve.”

“Oh Bucky, I’m so sorry, she was a bit young for you any way…”

“No, Steve, she’s gone.  Someone took her.”

“What!? How do you know?"

"She didn’t leave a note, she always does, and the window was open in the bedroom.”

“I’m sending Natasha over, I’ll be there as soon as I can, hang in there.  And Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s really good to hear from you, ya jerk.”

Not now Steve. “Thanks, Steve.”

There was a loud knock on the door and moments later a fiery redhead barged into Mandy’s apartment.  Bucky remembered her, but he wasn’t sure when they’d met.  

“The knock was more of a courtesy,” she stated, glancing at the door, “I figured we’d start on good terms and go from there.”

“Nice to see you too, Nat.”

“Uh-uh, you don’t get to call me Nat, yet.  You go off all homicidal and nutso and leave Steve for dead on the riverbank and then waltz around with this little blondie, you don’t get to call me anything cute, capeesh?”

He nodded, caught off guard by her boisterous personality.  It was familiar yet overwhelming.  

“So what happened, you go off for a day on the town and she gets kidnapped?”

“I think,” Bucky said, “But I can’t find much to give me an indication as to what played out.”

“Well, fortunately for you, I had eyes on this place from the moment Steve picked you up in this area with his nifty device thing Tony gave him.  We can pull up surveillance and see what went down.”

“You guys were watching the apartment this whole time?”

“We ran some algorithms when you started working at the movie theater, figured you and blondie would be compatriots, and decided to just make sure she was kosher, that’s all.  Turns out you two were destined to be roomies, so I guess our science was correct! You can thank us later, once we find your girly.”

“Her name is Mandy, and she’s not my ‘girly’, she’s my roommate.”

“Who has goo-goo eyes for you,” Natasha quipped, pulling a slim computer from her messenger bag.

Bucky remained quiet while she cued up the footage from earlier and started playing it for them to watch.  His stomach turned, not wanting to see something violent show on the tape, but what ended up playing on the screen before him was not at all what he’d expected to see.

“Oh no….” Natasha sighed, “This is not good, bud.”

Current Threat Level Status: high

Chapter Text

“They had to have been using her, they must have tricked her into thinking they were S.H.E.I.L.D.!” Bucky slammed his hand into the table, sending a pile of papers floating to the ground from the impact.  

“Or she gave them the intel voluntarily,” Natasha sighed, “I just can’t believe you, we, didn’t know she was recording you this whole time.”

He watched the footage loop again and examined it closely.  Mandy was hurrying around the apartment removing what looked to be small recording devices, cameras and microphones smaller than a pinkie fingernail.  Just seconds after she took down the last one, a man appeared on a different part of the film and knocked twice on the door.  Mandy opened it and handed over the black camera bag full of the devices, and then they both left.  She'd left the window open, probably in an attempt to make it look like a kidnapping.  But, there were no actual signs of a struggle.  And, Mandy looked calm and collected the entire time, and not at all surprised to see her guest arrive.  

“I let my guard down, I shouldn’t have,” Bucky grumbled to no one in particular.  

“You cared for her,” Natasha said matter-of-factly, “And we had your back, or so we thought… What kind of stuff is going to be on those recordings?”
Bucky had to laugh at the answer, “A lot of arguments about movies, but not much else. I don’t remember anything else.”

Natasha nodded and offered what looked like an understanding smile, before stopping the surveillance video, and closing the laptop.  Someone on Nat’s team announced Steve’s arrival via walkie-talkie, and Bucky’s stomach lurched.  

“We have orders to pull our equipment and move him to a safe-house,” rang a familiar voice as a firm hand clapped on his shoulder, “Hiyah Buck, sorry about Mandy, we’ll get those recordings back and get you safe, okay?”

Bucky willed himself to say something but his mind was spinning out of control.  Steve’s presence was dredging up a flurry of memories and emotions.  He felt his knees buckle, but couldn’t stop himself from falling...

He woke up to the all too familiar sound of a heart rate monitor beeping steadily.  His head was pounding and his throat was dry and felt as though it was stuffed with cotton.  

He blinked, trying to clear his vision, and glanced pitifully around the room.  Steve was reading the newspaper in one of the plastic chairs by his bed.  The television on the wall was playing some sort of cooking tutorial.  He coughed suddenly, startling Steve.  It was still unfamiliar to see Steve in good health and physical shape, but he was beyond grateful for his friend to be back at his side.  

“Hey, you’re up!” A smile spread across Steve’s face.

Bucky nodded and tried to prop himself up, which resulted in a lot of wheezing.  Steve rushed over with a plastic cup of water and handed it to Bucky before helping him into a sitting position.

“Easy does it big guy, you dropped like a rock onto an oak floor.  I don’t expect your head feels too good, huh?”

Bucky nodded again, “Sore.”

Steve patted him on the shoulder and went to the medicine cabinet.  “I’ll get you some Advil.”

It was so strange to hear Steve talking to him so nonchalantly, as though none of the last year had happened… As though none of their past mattered, except the good parts.  To him, Steve should be angry and unwilling to hold a conversation.  What Bucky had done for HYDRA, and what he’d done to Steve, and the rest of them… It was unforgivable.  He’d imagined the scenario of him seeing Steve again so many times, and it always ended with one of them walking away, for good.  It had never played out like this, like they could still be friends…

He hadn’t meant to cry, but all of a sudden hot tears were rolling down his face.  

Steve wasted no time hustling back to his side, “Hey, hey… It’s alright Bucky, it’s gonna be alright.  HYDRA’s disbanded, they can’t find you.  It doesn’t matter what was on those recordings, they won’t find you.”  Steve rolled him on to his side and hefted him up by the shoulders, pulling him into an awkward hug.  

“How can you act like nothing happened…” Bucky croaked.

“Because I forgive you,” Steve said sternly, “I’m not an idiot, I know what HYDRA did to you, and I know the “you” on the helicarrier was not you.  I care about you, Bucky, and you haven’t done anything wrong.”

Current Threat Level Status: minimal

Chapter Text

The next couple of days were rough.  No one really knew what to do until Mandy had been apprehended and the tapes were destroyed.  So until then Bucky was under lock and key.  Partly, that was a good thing, because he was still reeling from getting a lot of his memories back a bit too quickly.  But on the other hand, he was restless, and didn’t want to be confined to his new place in Stark Tower.  Steve had talked Tony into letting him have his own apartment so Bucky could adjust to things on his own terms, and Bucky was grateful for that.

He was thumbing through some of the take-out menus that had been left for him when a knock on the door jolted him to attention.  He hadn’t gotten many visitors and was still wary of whoever was going to be there when he opened the door.  To his relief it was Sam Wilson, one of Steve’s friends.  He’d decided he like Sam a lot because he didn’t try to tiptoe around him like some people had, he just went on like Bucky was a 'normal' person.  

“So we have some good news and some bad news,” Sam told him as he walked in.  “The good news is that Mandy was definitely not with HYDRA.  The bad news is I was out jogging this morning and I saw this…”

Sam handed Bucky a glossy magazine and his stomach knotted.

“Needless to say, we weren’t expecting this, but at least no one from the tabloids, that we know of, are Russian terrorists.”

Bucky stared at the cover of the magazine trying not to show his discomfort.  The image on the front was of him and Mandy laughing and sharing a plate of cheese fries at the diner.  In huge yellow lettering at the top it read “EXCLUSIVE: My life with the newest Avenger! Amanda Hawthorne tells all!”

“Steve’s already contacted the magazine’s CEO, and threatened to bomb the building if they don’t revoke everything they said and give back all of the recordings they got from Mandy.  Jarvis helped Tony calculate the location of all the magazines that were released, and Nat’s sent out a team to collect and destroy them.  The whole thing should blow over by tomorrow.”

“I just… Can’t understand this,” Bucky muttered, “Why would she do something like this? I trusted her! She could have exposed me to anyone that wanted to kill me!”

“Journalists are like that,” Sam sighed, “They’re charming and manipulative, they get the stories people want.”

Bucky thumbed through the pages and looked at the rest of the article, feeling his level of dismay rise with each flip.  One page was titled “How I Brought Him Back From the Brink of Depression”, the paragraph underneath started off with the line “Lonely, sad, and on the brink of losing it all, Bucky Barnes needed a good friend…”.  The photos were all of him and Mandy together, some showing him in a very dark light and other showing him having a good time.  Eventually he got tired of looking and tore the magazine in half.

“Some of the stuff in there is clearly an exaggeration,” Sam laughed, trying to lighten the mood, “One of the sections said you wear pink satin pajamas to bed, but you don’t look like a satin guy.  I think fleece is more your style...”

“Thanks for letting me know, Sam” Bucky said glumly.  “I guess I’m stuck here for another day at least.”

“Well, when you finally make it out of here, you’re probably going to have some…fans… Just FYI.”

Bucky shot him a confused look to which Sam added, “The article did paint you in a pretty interesting light, so if anyone managed to read it before Nat’s team yanked the pages from their hands, they’re going to want to get to know you.  People like underdog stories man, they’re gonna love yours.”

“No one should love my story,” Bucky retorted, “I haven’t done anything good in 70 years.”

Sam offered him a broad teasing smile, “You’re the beefy best friend of Captain America, girls are gonna eat that up like cake.”

Bucky didn’t think what Sam was saying held any water, but he reminded himself he knew very little about the current state of the world.  It was possible people nowadays would ignore his wrongdoings simply because he had been Steve’s friend for so long, but he just didn’t buy that notion.

Before Sam left he looked at Bucky and laughed, “There’s one other good thing though, that I just thought of.” Bucky nodded for him to continue not knowing where this was going.  “Unless they get a real good look at you, none of those photos are gonna match up to your current look.”  Sam shot him another big smile and then left, leaving Bucky to contemplate what he’d just said.  

Then it hit him, all of the photos had been taken before he’d gotten a chance to surprise Mandy with his current haircut.  He smirked to himself and went back to the take-out menus.  It was a blessing in disguise to look like his old self again, because all of his ‘fans’ were going to be looking for The Winter Soldier, and Bucky had left him behind.

Current Threat Level Status: minimal

Chapter Text

The next morning Bucky was just about to shower when he heard a hesitant knock on the door.  Not really wanting to answer it he shuffled over and peered through the peephole.  At first glance he didn’t see anyone, but then he channeled his gaze down slightly and saw a brunette woman he hadn’t met before.  He sighed and opened the door enough to peer out at her, sincerely hoping she hadn’t been sent by the magazine company or anything...

“Oh sorry if I interrupted,” she said said immediately, noting his towel, “I can come back later, I just stopped by to introduce myself.”

“That’s okay,” Bucky said, “You are?”

“Darcy Lewis, its a pleasure to meet you sir.”

“Ah, nice to meet you to… How do you know who I am?”

“Oh, right, right, sorry.  I’m Thor’s girlfriend’s best friend.  Steve told me you moved in, and I like to stop by Stark Tower whenever I can because this place is just so huge and way nicer than my apartment building so… Alright, well hi and bye, it was nice to meet you sir.”

“Bucky,” he blurted, “Uh… I mean, you can call me Bucky, I’m not old enough for ‘sir’.”

Darcy beamed at him, “You’re like 90 years old and a veteran, I should be pushing you in a wheelchair and calling you Sargent while you tell me about ‘Nam.”

Bucky felt himself smiling and shook his head, “Well it was nice to meet you ma'am.  Have a nice day.”

Darcy turned on her heel and waved at him as she walked away, “Was nice to meet you too, grandpa.”

“So I heard you met Darcy,” Steve chided as he walked into the Stark Tower library where Bucky was currently ‘hiding’ with a book on music of the 21st century.

“Yup, she just showed up at my apartment.”

“She’s really outgoing,” Steve replied, “Almost nothing phases her, she just does what she wants.  It’s admirable, actually.”

“Mmmhmm,” Bucky mumbled in response, flipping to another page in the book.

“That’s it? Mmhmm?” Steve retorted with a laugh, “I thought you’d have been happier to make a new friend, and a female friend nonetheless.”

“I’m sort of done with making friends,” Bucky told him, “I’m too old, and I don’t trust anyone anymore.”

“Oh come on Buck, she’s nice.”

“I know what you’re getting at Steve, and it’s not going to happen.”

Steve sighed and Bucky heard his footsteps leave the room.  He knew Steve wanted him to get back on the horse, but it just wasn’t the right time.  Frankly, he didn’t know if there would be a right time.  It wasn’t like it used to be, when he would swoon over any girl who flashed him a smile.  Now it was a guessing game of “is she really nice, or is she going to screw me over in a month”.  Truthfully, he hadn’t found Mandy sexually attractive, she was just very nice company.  None of the other women at work did anything for him, looks-wise, either.  Normally Darcy would have caught his eye, she was definitely his 'type', but it was almost like that part of his brain had shut off. So, while Steve was right, Darcy was nice, he just didn’t have it in him to pursue a relationship, friendship wise or otherwise.

Current Threat Level Status: insignificant

Chapter Text

He was tucked away in a corner of the library when Darcy plopped down in front of him.  “You’ve been in here for a month, Barnes.”

He glanced up at her and made a face at 'Barnes', no one called him that...

“Okay, well not for a month straight, but a good portion of a month.  You’re starting to look homeless again, no offense.”

“Did Steve send you in here?”

It was Darcy’s turn to make a face, “You know other people care about you besides Steve, Barnes.”

He rolled his eyes, “You’ve met me… twice.  And once was because you bumped into me on the way here, actually.  So I hardly think you care about me. No offense, Lewis.”

Darcy sighed, “You’re an asshole.”

“Excuse me?!”

“That was one thing they left out of your file.”

“You read my file?!”

Darcy nodded, “I read everyone's’ files, James.  I work for the same team you do, I have to know who I’m dealing with.  Plus, Banner likes me, so he lets me help with his psych cases sometimes.  He says I’m good with people.”

Bucky put a pencil in his book to mark his spot, and set it on the table, staring intently at Darcy, “So, I’m a psych case?”

“You were in a cryogenic freezer for the good part of seven decades, you’ve been dehumanized beyond the limits of what most people can endure, you’ve had your memories suppressed and then flooded… Shall I go on?”

He shook his head, “I don’t want to talk about this, you should go.”

“You don’t scare me, I’m not leaving.”

“I didn’t say I was planning to scare you,  I just don’t intend to hurt a civilian for insulting me.”

"You asked, asshole," Darcy snorted a laugh and leaned back in her chair.

He picked up his book and prepared to get up from his seat.

“I work with a guy who turns into a giant green … hulk.  I work with a woman who I don’t even quite know what to explain her job title as, because the last time I asked her she laughed and said “you really don’t want to know”.  I work with a guy who runs around in spangly tights, and punches guys like Hitler in the face with a spangly shield.  And a dude with jet pack wings!  And a friggin’ sentient AI suit of armor!  Not to mention the most accurate archer in the history of archery… Oh, and a Norse god…   My best friend is DATING a NORSE GOD.  And you think I’m afraid you’re going to hurt me?  You look like a one of those bedraggled shelter pets in the ASPCA commercials.  And if you try to kill me for saying that I will taser you, so don’t even try. I hear metal arms are really good conductors of electricity.”

“I don’t -”

“You don’t have to like me, Barnes.  I don’t give a shit if you don’t like me.  But at least learn to like yourself, and quit being an asshole!”

Steve’s gaze was stifling as he stared at Bucky from across the kitchen table in his apartment.

“She just… blew up at me.” Bucky sighed, “I barely said anything.”

“She has a soft spot for … underdogs, if you will,” Steve replied, “And she doesn’t take no for an answer, so she might say she’s okay with you not liking her, but that’s really just a defense mechanism.  You hurt her feelings, Buck, plain and simple.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

Steve’s gaze remained level, “Exactly.”

Bucky glared at him and Steve crossed his arms over his chest before continuing.  “You know, she’s right.  At least a little.  You need to stop brooding, and I know that is easier said than done, but you’re never going to get back to living your life if you can’t accept that you have a support group here.  If you don’t want us around I’m sure Tony can set up another space somewhere else, but I think being with other people is nice.  Right?”

“Its so easy for you, you know that right?  You just flash your little patriotic smile and people blush and want your autograph, and you’ve got nothing marring your neat little history book.  But everywhere I turn people are telling me I’m the ‘underdog’.  You know why? Because I have to overcome all the horrible crimes against my own country I’ve committed over the last 70 years. I can’t pretend like that didn’t happen, I -”

“Bucky, stop.  Listen to me, are you planning to murder me right now?”

“What? No, why I -”

“That’s what I’ve been trying  to tell you! You’re not trying to hurt anyone, Buck.  And you never were.  Believe it or not there’s this thing called manipulation, I’m sure you’re familiar with that term now. People can be tricked into doing stupid things, horrible things, even, but they can just as easily be put back on course.  If you ever revert back, well we’ll tackle that when we get there, but right now? You’re on track.  And there’s this other thing called forgiveness, where people acknowledge that a mistake was made and they let it go, because they love the other person too much to carry around a grudge for the next 70 years.”

“I shouldn’t be forgiven for what I’ve done.”

“Do you regret what you did, do you feel sorry for it?”

“Everyday…”

“Then you’re worthy of forgiveness, Buck.  You’ve earned that.”

Current Threat Level Status: elevated

Chapter Text

“I just uh, I wanted to apologize.  I shouldn’t have snapped at you.  I need to stop pushing away people who -”

He was cut off by Darcy forcefully hugging him.  “What are you -”

“Friends hug each other when they’re making amends, get used to it.  Plus I’ve always wanted to hug a piece of ancient history, it’s on my bucket list.  The only problem is they don’t let you hug museum displays.”

“You’re not funny,” Bucky retorted.

“You laughed,” Darcy snorted, “Had to have been at least a little funny.”

“So, we’re friends again?”

“We’ve been friends,” Darcy said, rolling her eyes, “Friends are allowed to argue, stupid. What, you and Steve never got into fights?”

All the time, “Not too many.”

“Beep beep beep, my bullshit meter senses a load of crap nearby.”

Bucky snorted and they were both quiet for a moment.  

“So, tell me about things,” Darcy finally said, sitting on the edge of her coffee table.

“What kind of things?”

“How’s life, any new books? Enjoying modern American life?”

“It’s too warm,” Bucky told her, “And it’s too loud.”

“You don’t have to wear long sleeves all the time,” Darcy chided, “And buy some earplugs.”

He rolled up his sleeve, exposing his metal arm, and glanced at her, “Yeah because the public isn't going to take one look at me and run away screaming.”

Darcy rolled her eyes again, “So, the tough guy us self-conscious eh?”

He shrugged and rolled his sleeve back down, “Wary.”

“You know you shouldn’t be so worried about what other people think.”

He raised an eyebrow and waited for her to continue.  She blushed.  “I don’t think people are as scared of you as you think…”

“They should be,” he mused, sitting next to her.

Darcy punched him lightly on the arm, “Oh stop it Mr. Softy, I don’t think you even take yourself seriously.  When was the last time you did anything for yourself?  You spend so much time trying to make sure everyone else is doing okay, and that they aren’t mad at you… You’re the one who needs to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” Bucky replied flatly.

“Mhmm…” Darcy mumbled.  She said something else under her breath that Bucky didn’t quite catch.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

“Oh no no, now you have to tell me.”

“I just…. No, I don’t want to bring that up.” She bit her lip and he waited for her to finally give in.

“You won’t hurt my feelings,” Bucky told her.

“Why did you trust Mandy so much?”

“What?"

“I mean, I think you were jumping at the chance to find someone who wasn’t going to turn tail when they found out who you were.  But you moved too fast, you’re still not even comfortable in your own skin, you can’t expect other people to be 100% at ease around you when you’re not even being honest with yourself.  I mean, be honest, you tried really hard to impress her right? Even if you didn’t want to sleep with her, you did try to sweep her off her feet, right?  You thought she was the best thing that ever happened to you, but did you ever even stop to think if you were going to be happy living on her couch for the rest of your life? So, what do you want?”

“I sort of just wanted things to go back to the way they were…” Bucky said absentmindedly carding his hands through his hair, “I guess I can’t do that, huh?”

Darcy shook her head sadly, “Life doesn’t go in reverse, Barnes.”

“Well, I guess I just…” he sighed, then let out a defeated laugh, “I don’t know…”

Darcy leaned over and put her head on his shoulder, “The world isn’t so bad these days, I swear, you just have to get out there and… I don’t know, find where you fit into it.  I mean, are you going to be a tail chaser in modern day America too?”

“It isn’t as easy as it used to be,” he sighed, “Plus the prosthetic isn't really eye candy.”

“There are some girls who would be totally into that.” When he didn’t reply Darcy added, “If it were attached to a smiling face, and not a hermit, or a like, a depressed lump, that it is.”

“You’re so helpful,” Bucky laughed softly.

After a few moments Darcy shifted so she was looking at him straight on, “I have a challenge for you.”

“Oh?”

“You have a month to pick a hobby. Besides reading!  And, you have to start doing what you want to do.  That means if you get up and you don’t want to dress like a grandpa, well then don’t!”

“Hey, I don’t dress like a grandpa… Do I?”

Darcy shrugged, “Not for me to tell you. You have a month.” She smiled at him and then jumped off the table, pushing him to the door.

“Have fun with that, Barnes.”

“Yeah whatever, Lewis.” He smiled to himself as she shut the door.  This felt like his conversations with Mandy, but talking with Darcy was noticeably different.  He felt at ease with her, in a way he didn't normally feel with anyone but Steve. 

"I really do need more friends," he grumbled to himself, and then he had an amazing idea. He knew exactly what the first thing he was going to do for himself was going to be!

Current Threat Level Status: minimal

Chapter Text

It was a funny sight to see Nat rolling around on the floor with a puppy, but that was the current scenario in Bucky’s living room.  

“Yulia, govorit!” Nat cooed to the puppy, who barked back immediately, butt wagging in the air.

“Damn, she’s smart,” Steve said wistfully, “She speaks Russian already.”

“What, you thought I’d get a dumb dog?” Bucky laughed, sitting next to Steve and offering him a beer.  Steve took it gratefully and replied, “Nah, of course not.”

“I did my homework,” Bucky told him, full of pride.  “According to the shelter, she’s half Border Collie, half German Shepard.  She’s got smart genes built right in.”

“That’s good, Buck.  Say, what sparked the interest in getting a dog anyhow?”

“I’ve kind of always wanted one,” Bucky admitted, “And everyday when I walk to get coffee there’s a poster for a shelter on one of the telephone poles.  I kept thinking maybe it would be good for me.  I read a book on how dogs are really good, you know… for PTSD and stuff.”

“Yeah, they’re supposed to be very good therapy.”

“Dayte mne vash lapu, Yulia,” Nat told the puppy.

“Do you really think she’s going to learn ‘shake’ this early on?” Bucky asked.

Nat waited patiently with her hand outstretched, not saying anything.  After a few seconds Yulia stuck a tiny paw on her palm and then looked up, waiting for confirmation.

“Khorosho, khorosho!” Nat praised giving Yulia a treat, “See? This girl’s a genius, I’m telling you James.”

Over the next couple of weeks he forced himself to think of other things he really wanted to do “just for him”.  At first it felt sort of silly.  He made himself consider everything he was going to that day, and sometimes he said it out loud, as though Yulia was going to back him up on his plan. Most of the time she just sat down at his feet waiting for a treat (a bad habit Nat had started).  

His mental exercise started when he first got up. He'd make himself really think about what he wanted for breakfast. Something he hadn’t even thought about when he was with Mandy, because most of the time she'd brought back take-out before he was awake.  He decided French toast was his favorite, but it was a lot of work.  

Then he would evaluate his wardrobe.  Most of what he had was black t-shirts and jeans, which he soon found boring.  JARVIS offered to order him something else, so he sat for a good hour looking at catalogs with Yulia on his lap.  He ordered a few button down shirts in light blues and greens, colors he decided he liked a lot.  He also ordered a suit, a tie, and a couple dress shirts/pants.  It felt right, like maybe he was going to need them for something important in the future.  

He decided he was going to wait and decide about some of the more tedious things, like his hair, shoes, and toothpaste, until he’d decided on a favorite type of music.  He knew music was important to him long ago, and he wanted to reincarnate that appreciation.  He had JARVIS order him this new device called an iPod, which could apparently hold any type of music he wanted, and a lot of it.  When it came in he and Yulia set up an iTunes account and got to work.  Things like rap and hip hop he wasn’t too fond of, but he decide he was okay with country music, southern rock, and jazz.  He also really liked soul music, most of the singers put so much emotion into their words, it made him want to print out the lyrics and paste them on his walls.

With one week left in the month, he was beginning to feel a lot more relaxed than he had since… since, he couldn’t even remember when.  Things he used to get annoyed with hardly bothered him anymore, and he wasn’t as jumpy walking down the street when Yulia was with him.  

November was almost over.  He had one week left to his challenge, and he was looking forward to making every day count.

Current Threat Level Status: insignificant

Chapter Text

It was the last day of Darcy’s challenge, and Bucky was busy preparing for the day he had planned for himself. He showered briskly, using the green minty shampoo he’d decided was his top choice, then combed his hair (which grew like a weed, much to his chagrin) before throwing on a grey tshirt and a pair of jeans. He’d chosen some sort of toothpaste with these little bits of “breath strips” in it because it looked like confetti. He’d decided that he still liked to wear oxfords, even though he knew Darcy would say that made him a 'grandpa', but they just felt right.

Before his shower he’d had French toast, coffee, and a banana. He’d also worked out and taken Yulia for a walk. All of that was becoming his standard routine, but the afternoon was going to be something different entirely. He was going to explore the city, on his own.

Three times he’d almost chickened out, and gone to pick up Yulia from Nat’s so he could take her with him, but he reminded himself that everything was going to be okay. He hadn’t been more than a few blocks from Stark Tower without someone else since he’d been 'back', and he knew he needed to push himself or things weren’t ever going to improve for him. He couldn’t spend all of his time in his apartment, and there were places he really did want to visit on his own. So, knowing that Yulia was in good hands with Nat watching her, Bucky set off to sight-see.

The first place he visited was China Town, and then Little Italy. It had been decades since he’d had a cannoli. He’d never tasted half of the food they brought him at the Chinese restaurant. The bowls of soups, noodles, and other delights made him feel welcome and safe, two things he was slowly learning to be again. He stuffed his face with food and picked up a few trinkets to decorate his apartment with. Then he made his way to some of the other touristy locations in the city. He went on a tour of Radio City Music Hall. He visited Central Park. He ate at Bubba Gump’s Shrimp, which he’d seen in a movie recently. He took a bus tour to all the cool architectural sites. He ate frozen yogurt, and visited the Museum of Modern Art. He did all the things that other people in this city had probably already done, and gotten bored with.  But, to him they were all brand new. The city had changed so much since he and Steve were two young guys chasing dames through the streets...

By the end of the day he was tired and full to the brim. He had three bags of souvenirs, and a wealth of pride of knowing he’d done something all by himself, for himself.  Even when people stared at him, he didn't feel out of place. He just shrugged it off, because now he knew better than to assume their looks were malicious.

Darcy was sitting on the floor by his apartment when he walked down the hall that evening.
“Hey Barnes, what’s up?”
“How long have you been sitting here?” Bucky asked.
“Nat was going to stop by in a bit and we were going to take Yulia for an evening stroll before she handed her back over to you, but you showed up before she did. So like, ten minutes?”
Bucky nodded, “Want to sit inside and wait for Nat, instead of on the floor?”
Darcy stood up and stepped to the side so he could unlock the door for them. “So what’d you do today?”
“Just walked around,” Bucky shrugged. He walked into the apartment and put his stuff on the floor, “Want something to drink?”
Darcy shook her head no and sat on the couch, “Feeling any more at ease around here?”
He nodded slowly and sat in the chair across from the couch. “It’s slow going, but yeah.” He pushed his hair back from his face and leaned back in his chair. His feet were sore from walking all day.
Darcy muttered something under her breath and Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Do you have, like, supersonic hearing or something? How do you always hear me…”
“Good listening skills,” he said, “It helps you not get killed and stuff.” He waited for her to repeat what she said but she just looked at him intently. “You’re not going to tell me, are you.”
“You’d probably shoot me, so no.”
“I don’t have a gun,” Bucky told her, which was technically a lie, but she didn’t need to know.
Darcy rolled her eyes, “Fine, you’d stab me. Either way my lips are sealed.”
They sat in silence for a moment before Bucky piped up, “So, you’re not going to make me give you a challenge report?”
Darcy laughed abruptly, “You actually did shit? Good for you Barnes.”
“What do you mean? Did you think I wasn’t going to?? I mean, I didn’t like, keep a journal of it but...”
“You’re such a pain in the ass, I figured you'd just laughed me off,” Darcy sighed, “You’re full of surprises gramps.”
“Are surprises good?” he blurted.
Darcy gave him a smug grin, “Only some surprises. Like, 'surprise here’s a cake' is good but 'surprise the world is ending… like, for the 4th time' isn’t as good.”
“Duly noted.”
They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Bucky stood up to answer it, and was promptly greeted with Yulia plowing into him. (He always forgot Nat didn’t need to be let in, she just got in.)

“Here’s your girlfriend,” Nat laughed handing him the leash, “I think she missed you.”
“Thanks,” Bucky said, “Sorry you and Darcy didn’t get to take her for a walk like you planned. Wanna stay for a beer?”
Nat shrugged, “It's all good.  I've gotta go meet Clint for judo lessons. We still on for the gym tomorrow?”
He nodded, “Yeah, see you at 11.”

After Nat had left he took Yulia’s leash off and she promptly bounded over to the couch and sat on top of Darcy.

“Yulia, get off of Darcy.” He sighed, watching the puppy’s face fall at being reprimanded.  Rather than listen, she just pushed herself closer to Darcy and laid down.
“Did you know your daddy is an old cranky man?” Darcy asked Yulia, scratching her back. “Is he always so cranky to you? Huh? How could he be cranky to that face.”
Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle.
“So, tell us about your adventure into self knowledge,” Darcy said, playing with Yulia’s ears.
He let out a sigh and walked back over to the chair. He should have known he wasn’t going to get away without telling her...

Current Threat Level Status: low

photos for reference - Yulia: & Bucky:

Chapter Text

“Well, I guess I’ll start with my hobby,” he suddenly felt a little anxious, like a kid about to give a presentation to his class.  But Darcy just looked at him with a smile, silent encouragement, sitting cross-legged on the couch and scratching Yulia under her chin and waiting for him to say something.  Does she like me? The thought flashed through his mind briefly, and he swatted it out just as soon as it flew in.  Of course Darcy didn’t like him like him, that would be foolish.  He was too old for her, surely, and he was certain she probably had a boyfriend, something he felt rude for not inquiring about.  He really didn’t know much about her, which felt wrong, since he considered her a good friend at this point. 

“I um, I started cooking,” he finally stammered.

Darcy rolled her eyes, “Learning how to use a microwave doesn’t count, bud.”

“No I’m serious,” he laughed, moving to punch her arm playfully, “I signed up for this thing on the iPad, Master Class? I learned how to make french toast, chicken piccata, omelets, I even bought a slow cooker.”

Darcy looked at him and licked her lips, “Lord, now I’m starving, french toast is bomb.”

“I could make some for us, if you want to have breakfast sometime,” he blurted, feeling himself involuntarily blush. 

“Are you blushing , Barnes?” it was her turn to punch his arm, “Dude when was the last time you asked someone to have a meal with you.  Was it Steve? It was probably Steve.  You need to get out more, and make more friends,” she rolled her eyes, “But sure, I’d love to have french toast sometime.”

“It was not Steve,” Bucky laughed, “I have, er, had, other friends you know.”

Darcy rolled her eyes again and tousled his hair. He thought he felt her linger a little before pulling her hand away, but maybe he was imagining it… or just hopeful. 

“Sure you did, sport,” Darcy stood up and stretched, “So, how’s the journey to self-discovery going?” 

“Good, I think.”

Darcy meandered over to the kitchen and opened the fridge, examining the contents, as though she were trying to evaluate if he was really learning to cook by sizing up his food inventory.  She spied the beers stashed on the door and snagged one, holding it up to me, “Want one?”

He nodded.  With the serum Bucky couldn’t really get drunk, but he still found the taste of beer made him nostalgic, so he kept some around. “I finally decided on a brand I like, tastes like what Steve and I used to get back in the day, or as close as I can remember anyhow.”

Darcy nodded and plopped down on the floor, stretching her legs out and motioning for Yulia to sit next to her.  Yulia happily obliged and laid down on top of Darcy, who looked thrilled. 

“Is it weird still, not having all your memories back, or does it feel normal now?”

Bucky shrugged, “It’s starting to feel normal.  Now that Mandy’s been questioned and warned, I feel a lot more free.  More stuff seems to come back now, random things at random times.”

“I bet that being more relaxed helps, let’s your mind wander,” Darcy pursed her lips, “I’m sorry she broke your trust, I wish Steve and Nat had been able to do a little more recon on her before things got too far…”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, “Too far, how?”

Darcy waggled an eyebrow back, “Well it was obvious you had feelings for her, no? I’m just glad you weren’t planning to put a ring on it or anything, that would have been awkward.”

“I don’t even know what that means, I mean, I can infer, but no, I wasn’t going to ‘put a ring on it’, we didn’t even… we weren’t intimate .”

Darcy almost spat out her beer laughing, “Whoa there grandad, don’t go putting those types of thoughts in my head, won’t be able to get those images out.”

So she doesn’t like me like that, then, he thought…

Darcy looked him up and down and took another swig of her beer, “Not that that would be the worst image to have imprinted on my brain, as long as you don’t wear Depends yet…”

Bucky had no clue what Depends were, but he hoped they were just some brand of ugly sneakers… 

Current Threat Level: low

Chapter Text

Everything kind of unfolded all at once from that day forward.  It started with Bucky inviting Darcy over for breakfast, as promised, and the two of them sharing (flirtatious?) glances over mugs of steaming coffee.  Bucky did everything in his power to squash the feelings riling up in the pit of his stomach, but it wasn’t working.  And then, when Darcy caught his gaze and didn’t immediately drop it, he thought maybe he was right and things had changed between them.

The next week Darcy invites herself over to Bucky’s, and she brings his favorite beer and pizza.  She and Yulia clamber onto the couch and they all tuck in to the pizza while watching reruns of Law & Order.  Bucky wipes the pizza grease off his hands and leans back on the couch, and without even thinking about it, his arm drapes over Darcy’s shoulders.  She doesn’t shirk away, so Bucky, hesitantly, leaves it there.  

When movie night turns into a regular occurrence, Bucky finds himself wishing Darcy would just stay over instead of exchanging an awkward goodbye and taking an Uber home.  It starts off innocent, he simply doesn’t want her trusting some stranger to take her home in the middle of the night. But that feeling drifts into desire, and soon Bucky’s tongue is longing to ask her, 'Please, stay…'

“I only live one block over,” Darcy says after Bucky tells her she’s welcome to sleep in the guest room, “I could just walk, but Jarvis always calls an Uber.”

“Why don’t you just live in Stark Tower?” with me Bucky asks, handing her the leftover pizza to take home.

“Never felt right,” Darcy shrugged, “I’m not an Avenger, I’m not 'technically' on Stark’s payroll…”

“I think Tony would have worked something out for you. I mean, he worked something out for me, when I first got back.”

“You’re Captain America’s best friend, of course Stark made it work-” Darcy’s eyes went wide, “I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean it like that.”

Bucky felt his lips curl into a smirk, “I knew what you meant, Lewis.”

Darcy’s eyes were apologetic as she said goodbye and wandered out into the hallway. Bucky stuck his head outside the door and called after her, “Hey Darc, next time bring your pajamas?”

Darcy rolled her eyes at him and kept walking, leaving Bucky to wonder if that was a yes or a no…

The next time Darcy showed up Bucky noted that she had a tote bag looped over one arm and the takeout bag of Chinese food in the other.  He smiled, but didn’t say anything, just offered to take the food from her.  When they were both full and the credits were rolling on Guardians of the Galaxy, Bucky yawned and looked over at Darcy, expecting her to say she was going to head out.

Instead, she got up off the couch and headed toward the bathroom.  Bucky didn’t think anything of it until she came back in her pajamas and plunked back down on the couch next to him.

“You staying?” He meant for it to come out more like a statement, not a question.

Her face went quizzical, “You asked me to, is that still ok or…?”

“No, no, it’s fine, of course you can stay.”

Darcy rolled her eyes at him again and moved so his arm was around her shoulders and her head was tucked up against his chest. “You confuse the crap out of me, gramps.”

Bucky just chuckled and tried to think about anything other than the tattoo he barely had a glimpse of on her lower back…

Movie night sleepovers turned into waking up tangled together on the couch, or one time, tangled up on Bucky’s bed.  Neither of them address how they got there.  They’re both still wearing all their clothes, so Bucky just chalks it up to being too comfortable after one too many beers, and they go on with their day. 

It started off that Darcy would drop by on a Tuesday night and head home Wednesday morning.  But Christmas came along, and Darcy got him a bread machine, and he gifted her a collectors edition box set of The West Wing , and next thing Bucky knew it was January, and Darcy was staying from Tuesday night until Friday.  Tuesday to Friday turned into Tuesday to Saturday, and Darcy’s toothbrush joining his on the counter.  They’d given up doing the separate bed routine at some point, opting to take their midnight snuggles from the couch to the bed.  It was all a fluid motion, wordlessly going along without any effort on either of their part.  And Bucky loved it.  He loved how it felt rolling over to see Darcy smiling in her sleep, with Yulia wormed between them, and the covers all hogged to one side of the bed.  He loved the simplicity of having someone who didn’t even ask, they just pitched in to help with his physical therapy.  He loved a shared pot of coffee, a post-it note on the kitchen counter that read ‘Greek tonight?’ .  He loved that she never shied away when his metal hand cupped the side of her face, even though he was sure it was cold against her skin.

Darcy, I love Darcy . His brain screamed it, he longed to shout it out loud, but the fear of ruining whatever it was they had kept him from opening his mouth.  But his solo vow of silence didn’t last long, because sometime toward the end of February, the levee broke…

Current Threat Level Status: negligible 

Chapter Text

It’s a Monday, Bucky hates Mondays. And he especially hates them when he’s trying to get ready for the day and he’s turned into Captain Butterfingers.  You know, those kind of days when you drop everything you pickup, and everything just seems to go wrong? But he takes a deep breath and decides to hit the reset button on the day.  So, he schleps down the hall to the bathroom and starts making a mental list of everything he needs to accomplish. He looks at himself in the mirror, shuffling his hair this way and that, and decides it needs a trim.  If he does it now he can shower after, and then head out for his errands, and hit the gym with Steve in the afternoon instead of this morning.  He goes in the closet and fetches the box with his hair cutting supplies and gets everything all plugged in.  

He’s rounding his ear when he sneezes, “ Fuck me…!” So much for his day going better…

He hears a snicker outside the door, “I would but you’ve been kind of sending mixed messages lately.”

Darcy hasn’t left yet? His breath catches in his throat, he doesn’t say anything, hoping she’ll just walk away and he can try to blend in the weird patch he’d just made without anyone ever knowing.  But typical Darcy, she pushes her way into the bathroom, still laughing. 

“What are you doing!?”

“What does it look like?” He groans and turns to face her, leaning up against the sink.

Darcy rolls her eyes and yanks the clippers away from him, “Give me those, you’re going to make a mess, well, more of a mess,” she looks at her watch, “I have time, should I?” She waves her hand in the general direction of his head. 

He sighs and sits on the toilet lid.

“I thought you were growing it out,” Darcy mutters under her breath, examining his handiwork. 

“And I thought you left for work already,” he grumbles, a little more curtly than he means to. 

“I came back to get my phone, left it on the nightstand,” she looks at him, biting her lower lip, then shakes her head. 

“Go on, say whatever you want to say,” he says, their eyes locking on one another's. But she just shakes her head again, and motions for him to turn around.  Silently she gets to work, carefully blending the shorn patch by his temple into the lengths of rest of his hair.  When she’s done, she dusts off his shoulders and blows gently on his neck to clear the trimmings off.  He stands, and admires her work in the mirror.  It was a bit shorter than he’d planned on going, but it looked better than the awkward in between length it had been at. 

“Looks good, thanks, Darc.”

“You’re welcome, Barnes,” she says softly, “I’m gonna go, and um, I’ve got plans with Nat tonight, so don’t wait for me for dinner.”

She leaves, and Bucky gets in the shower, his mood sour. He didn’t know why he couldn’t just tell Darcy how he felt.  And now she was pissed at him, he’d acted like an ungrateful jerk, and he hadn’t even apologized… He let the water scald him for a while and then got out of the shower, got dressed, and headed out to tackle the day.  Punching bag’s gonna get a beat down tonight , he mused, gonna need to do something to take my mind off Darcy … Darcy, I love Darcy …

Current Threat Level: elevated

Chapter Text

“You ok, Buck?” Steve looked him up and down as he took another swing at the punching bag with a grunt. 

“I think I fucked up,” another grunt, “I keep doing that.”

“Whadya do this time?”

Bucky stopped punching long enough to glare at him, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

So Steve shrugged and went back to lifting weights until Bucky finally broke.

“It’s Darcy,” he sighed, “I think… I think I hurt her feelings, again.” 

“Buck,” Steve said, “Not so good at this modern day dating are you?”

This got a snort from Bucky, “We weren’t dating, Steve. And it was my fault, she wanted to. She wanted more out of me, and I panicked…”

Steve clapped him on the shoulder, “Did you want to date her back?”

Bucky nodded, “But that’s never gonna happen. You know she told me she had plans tonight with Nat tonight? Nat’s in fucking Omsk this week.”

Steve laughed, “Buck, what exactly did you say?”

“I think it’s what I didn’t say… again.  She started leaving her toothbrush at my place. I think I was supposed to ask her to move in… This is all new to me, do people really do all of this before they get married now?”

Steve clutches his chest laughing, “You old fart. Yes Buck, people move in together before getting married now.”

Bucky slumps down on the bench and guzzles his water, smirking at Steve, “What about sex, Stevie?”

Steve choked, “Oh Buck, as if you’ve never done a premarital deed before.” 

If it was true, Bucky didn’t remember it.  He knew he’d been less than selective when it came to who he locked lips with, or at least that’s what he’d heard.  A lot of what he knew about his past felt meaningless, it was all stuff he’d gotten second-hand.  He remembered Steve, obviously, and a select few other buddies along the way.  He knew there were other girls… but he was sure there had never been another Darcy . 

“I liked what we had,” Bucky says, “I liked that we were just kind of… meshing. I didn’t know I was supposed to tell her I wanted it to keep going. If I’m being honest, I didn’t know how to tell her that.”

“Well you’re going to have to start by apologizing for whatever stupid thing you said that made her go storming off to Russia,” Steve winked at him and went to run on the treadmill, leaving Bucky to wallow in his own thoughts. 

How was he supposed to tell Darcy how he truly felt, when up until she left this morning, it hadn’t truly dawned on him exactly how he felt? How was he supposed to tell her that he wanted her to leave all of her toiletries at his place, and her gym bag, and her stupid collection of DC action figures, and her whole entire wardrobe…

Maybe it was better she’d planned not to stay the night. Maybe it was better she was mad at him, so Bucky wouldn’t have to formulate the words to tell her how much she meant to him. Maybe it was for the best if she just didn’t know his true feelings, because what good would that do her? 

Bucky let out a sigh, he couldn’t justify letting Darcy in on just how deeply he cared for her.  There was still that nagging feeling in his mind that the darkness from his past would swoop down and grab him in its talons, and he’d go back to behaving in unspeakable ways. 

No, he thought to himself, no, I can’t tell her I love her, because to love her would mean putting her in danger, and I can’t do that. Not to Darcy…

Current Threat Level: elevated

Chapter Text

When Darcy didn’t show up for movie night three days in a row, Bucky felt a wave of relief.  It meant not having to tell her why he’d snapped at her in the bathroom.  It meant not having to explain that the reason he never asked her to move in full-time was because it outright terrified him.  He was ok with her ‘staying over’ since it didn’t mean commitment, but moving in? Moving in was serious in his mind.  

He got to walk around in his boxers without thinking about it for three days.  On the fourth day there was a knock on the door so he shoved on some sweatpants and found Sam standing outside. 

“Where the heck have you been?” Sam says strolling in. 

“Here?” Bucky replies. 

Sam rolls his eyes, “It smells like a man cave, and that is not a compliment.  You need to get out more, what happened to getting out more?”

Bucky shrugs, “I get out.  I walk Yulia, we go to the dog park.”

Sam rolls his eyes so hard Bucky can fully see the whites of his eyes, “Anyway, I came by because Mandy showed up in Tony’s office and wanted to talk to you.  Something about making amends, I don’t know, we didn’t really give her the time of day.  But she left this for you.  I figured I’d drop it off since apparently you’re not leaving your apartment anymore.  Plus if it’s a bomb I guess I can scrape your guts off the floor after you open it.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Bucky says dryly, taking the box from him.  He slices the tape open on it and sets the box down on the kitchen table before opening it. Inside is a folded piece of paper, the book Steve had left for him way back when, and a flash drive.  

James,

I had a feeling they weren’t going to let me talk to you.  You have really over-protective friends, but that’s not really a bad thing.  Anyway, I wanted to let you know that I am truly sorry for how things ended between us.  I never got a chance to tell you that I really did like you, maybe as more than a friend.  Undercover work sucks honestly.  I mean, working at the movie theater was fun, but it got old not being able to be genuine with anyone there.  I’m sorry for ending things how I did, but I was way over my deadline and needed a quick out, so we got the bright idea to try and stage a kidnapping.  I thought you’d waste your time trying to find whoever kidnapped me and I’d be able to slip out of the city undetected. Guess I should have known Steve was going to put two-and-two together and not let you waste your time.  

After you left I went back to my apartment.  I wasn’t really planning on going back, I was planning on having someone move all my stuff to Dallas and starting my next assignment. But plans changed. I walked in and all I could think about was the fact that I broke my promise to you.  I had told you that you were welcome to stay with me as long as you wanted, and I would be up front if I wanted you to leave.  But that wasn’t what happened, I was callous and I pushed you out for my own benefit.  

After all that, the exposé never even made it to distribution (thanks, Natasha), so basically everything I did was for nothing.  I felt so stupid. 

This is the flash drive with the article and all the info from our time together.  The rest of my intel I think is floating in the ocean, thanks to your cleanup crew.  And there won’t be another Amanda Hawthorne exclusive, so don’t worry about being bombarded by me again.  I want you to know that I took a full time job at the crisis call center, and I’m getting my degree in social work now.  This is all because of YOU.

Don’t squander your second chance.  You are one of the most genuine people I‘ve met. You’re true to yourself against all odds, and you’re incredibly resilient.  Thank you for changing my mind about what my future was supposed to look like.  

-Mandy 

Bucky doesn’t hear what Sam is saying, he’s distracted by Mandy’s sudden and kind words scrawled out before him. 

“Seriously, I’m dragging you out of here for some fresh air,” Sam says, grabbing Bucky by the shoulder which snaps him back into the present. 

“Yeah, ok,” Bucky says, not really having any desire to go anywhere, but knowing Sam won’t let up if he doesn’t oblige.  So that’s how Bucky finds himself in the park with Yulia and Sam, tossing a Captain America frisbee back and forth.  They don’t say much other than ‘heads up’ and ‘nice toss’, and Bucky is appreciative that Sam must realize he doesn’t feel like chatting. 

“I take it you and Darcy broke up,” Sam says, finally breaking the silence. 

“We weren’t dating, not officially.”

“ We weren’t dating, not officially ,” Sam says back in a mocking tone, “She was sleeping at your place more than hers, that counts.  And don’t protest, we all know, none of us are blind.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and tosses the frisbee, aiming for Sam’s nose.  Sam ducks, missing it narrowly, and Yulia scampers after it. Begrudgingly, Bucky goes after her to make sure she doesn’t wander too far off.  The frisbee landed close to the woods and Yulia likes to chase squirrels, something Bucky has yet to be able to teach her is a no-no.  Bucky’s back is to the pathway but he can see a group of kids on bicycles riding their way, so he steps a bit further from the sidewalk to make sure they have ample space to pass.  As they draw nearer he can see one of them is holding a megaphone, and the others are all performing tricks and egging one another on.  He sees Yulia start to come back toward him and grabs her collar before she can run into the path of the bikers, but that’s when he hears what sounds like an air-raid siren.

And everything goes black…

Current Threat Level: unknown

Chapter Text

There’s a gun in his hand, the metal is cold against his palms, but the air around him is colder.  There’s blood dripping in his eye but he ignores it.  The wind lets out a howl, sending a gust of ice shards flying toward him.  The waypoint is just up ahead.  He only has one mission: seek and destroy.  The Asset knows better than to question the mission so he trudges on, through mounds of snow and craigs of ice. The Asset knows, but doesn’t care, that his target is a man with four children.  He lives in a remote village, many kilometers from an established city.  As The Asset draws nearer to his destination, the briney scent of the Bering Sea meets his acute senses.  And then…. And then, there is warmth? This can’t be right.  The Asset is so far from anything warm.  He hasn’t seen a dwelling in days, a hot meal in weeks, and yet… he can feel it, spreading over him like flames lapping at his skin from a nearby fire… He shakes his head, regaining composure.  His breath is hot against the leather mask shielding his face.  That’s what it is, he thinks, that’s what’s warm, it’s just me, it’s just me…

James?

The gunshot crackles through the air, echoing off the emptiness that surrounds the tiny wooden cabin.  The air is acidic with the smell of gunpowder and burnt flesh.  Mission complete.  Target destroyed.  He spots the wife cowering in the corner, shielding one of their children’s eyes from the corpse on their rug.  The Asset knows he should shoot them both, leave no loose ends, but he’s completed his mission.  His commands don’t include tying up loose ends, so they will stay here and be forced to clean up the mess he’s made.  

James!?

He’s back at his shelter.  His guns are cleaned and put away.  He stands, staring at himself in the reflection in the shattered glass window.  The Asset has a sinking feeling in his chest, something is wrong.  Has he failed a mission?  No. Has he disappointed his leader? Also no.  Nausea floods his gut.  The Asset doesn’t get nauseous.  He hasn’t eaten, he coughs up blood and bile.  His body lurches forward, crying out as if in pain.  The Asset feels no pain.  There is noise, so much noise… And bright lights.  He lets out another animalistic cry and sinks to his knees.  His hands grasping at his hair, clamoring to cover his ears, block out the screams, the sirens, the noise… There is so much noise, and then silence. 

…Bucky?

He blinks away the tears, eyes wide and fearful.  This is new, The Asset does not feel fear.  He blinks again, eyes opening to see long dark curls, a smile.  There are more tears, but they aren’t his. The Asset closes his eyes, and sinks into the darkness…

Current Threat Level: unknown

Chapter Text

When the darkness fades it’s Bucky that comes out on the other side.  There’s only one way he can describe how he’s feeling: embarrassed. 

He’s laying on his back in the park, Yulia is weighing his legs down and Darcy is stroking his hair.  Her face is wet with tears.  Sam is standing, arms folded over his chest.  There’s two paramedics scurrying to get him water, a blanket, and an ice pack.  There’s a cop talking to the kids from earlier, Bucky can’t hear what he’s saying to them but the kids look terrified.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says, his voice coming out hoarse. 

Darcy’s face screws up and she rests a hand on his cheek, “Sorry for what?”

He doesn’t know how to answer.  Someone lays an ice pack on his head and places a rolled blanket under his head before bringing a water bottle to his lips.  He drinks gratefully. 

When the paramedics have decided he can stand, they help him to his feet and set about putting away their supplies. Bucky turns to Sam and Darcy, who both look relieved now that he’s upright. 

Sam puts a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, “You gonna be ok?”

Bucky nods, “Yeah, I think so.”

“We should have Tony’s doc check you out,” Sam replies, “You dropped like a rock. Second time you’ve passed out like that, probably not a good thing.  We’re gonna have to get you a helmet.”

Bucky can’t help but chuckle at the thought, but the lightened mood is broken when Darcy pipes up, “Well, I’m going to go. Thanks for calling, Sam, I’ll see you later.”

Before Bucky can protest, she’s gone. “You called her?”

Sam nods, “While you were out, you kept calling her name.  I didn’t know what else to do, so I called her after I called an ambulance.”

“Thanks,” Bucky says sheepishly. 

“She’s definitely mad at you for something,” Sam retorts, “But she came when I called, and she stood by you the whole time. You wanna talk about what happened?”

“Between me and her, or the whole blacking out thing?”

Sam rolls his eyes, “Both, but start with the blacking out thing.”

So Bucky tells him what he remembers, starting with the air raid siren and finishing with the all-consuming darkness that swallowed him whole. Sam fills him in on what he missed, that the air raid siren was coming from the kid’s megaphone, that the warmth Bucky kept feeling was Yulia relentlessly trying to lay on top of him. 

“She didn’t leave your side either,” Sam says, patting Yulia on the head, “Good couple of ladies you’ve got around you.”

When Bucky doesn’t say anything Sam shrugs and they walk over to the car waiting to take them back to the tower.  Bucky is grateful for the silence, his head is throbbing still from whatever went down in his subconscious. 

“So what do you remember?” This doctor isn’t the same one Bucky saw when Steve brought him in after his first fainting spell.  This is Tony’s personal physician, called in as a favor from a very concerned Steve. 

“I uh, I was just standing there and I heard the air raid siren going off, didn’t know it was those damn kids.”

The doctor nods, scribbling.  Bucky glances at Steve who is perched in a chair to one side of the room, and then over at Darcy, who for the second time today got a  phone call from someone worried about Bucky and urging her to stop by.  He could tell she didn’t want to be here, but she was too good natured to tell Steve no.  

“Everything just went black like someone shut the lights off.  Then, I was on a mission.  Somewhere in Russia… well I wasn’t on a mission, he was.”

“He, The Winter Soldier?”

Bucky nods, “Only, when I was him, I was ‘The Asset’, they never called me by anything other than that, or my serial number.”

“So was this a mission you really went on, or was it more like a bad dream?”

“It was… It was real,” Bucky sighs, remembering the look on Anya’s face when he’d shot her husband, point blank in the back of the head.  The blood curdling screams from her daughter Taisiya who came running in moments later…

“Do you remember most of your missions from that time?”

Bucky shakes his head no, “I remember bits and pieces.  More stuff has started coming back, since being in New York.  Dragged out a lot of old memories.  After I passed out the first time, I remembered more of what I did as The Asset, it kind of all came back in a wave.  But it's all fragmented.  I can see faces, remember some names, but the stories don’t progress in a linear fashion.”

“Hmmm, well, the PTSD I can treat.  The memory loss, that’s all stuff that takes time and is different for everyone.  I can’t say for certain you’ll get everything back, I can’t say you won’t forget some stuff you already remembered.  I just know that over time your memories should start to stabilize, and once that happens it is likely that whatever you remember will stay like that, and you probably won’t have anything new come flooding back.” 

Bucky’s stomach lurched at the phrase PTSD, but he tried not to look unsettled. 

“I know, I know, no one likes that term.  But believe me, it is better to face it head on.  I’ll set you up with some anxiety medication.  We can get a referral for a therapist.  Can’t have you running around, dropping like a felled tree every time some idiot kids decide to disturb the peace.  Might help to talk about the trauma, too.”

“Ok, yeah,” Bucky says, unsure, “Thanks, doc.”

“You’ll be ok,” the doctor says, clapping him on the shoulder, “You’ve got a good support system, that helps immensely.” 

Once the doctor steps out, Bucky is left staring at Steve, who is chewing his lip the way he used to when they were kids and he was lost in thought about some world injustice.  And then there’s Darcy, who is looking at anything but Bucky.  Her expression is vacant, she’s looking at the floor, or maybe Steve’s sneakers.  That’s why it catches Bucky off-guard when it's her that breaks the silence. 

Current Threat Level: minimal

Chapter Text

“Steve, can we have a minute?” Darcy flicks her gaze over to Bucky, briefly, before giving Steve a small smile. 

Steve breaks from his trance and nods, “Yeah, sure Darcy. I’ll see you guys later.”

When the door clicks behind him, Darcy turns her attention back to Bucky. 

“We need to talk.”

Bucky nods, dreading what’s coming next.

“Obviously everyone thinks you should have me as your emergency contact, but I’m not actually sure where we stand right now.  Do you want to tell me where you think we’re at?”

“We’re at the part where I apologize for not telling you exactly how I felt,” Bucky says, meeting her hardened stare. 

“And you feel…?”

“I feel like, since you stopped coming over, like a part of me is missing.  I haven’t felt that way in a long time, since before I saw Steve again after 70 years. It’s not a good feeling, Darc.”

Darcy smirks, “See, and I thought you wanted me to quit coming over. Seeings as you apparently were waiting for me to leave the last time.”

That’s when it dawns on him, that morning in the bathroom when Darcy had come back for her phone, he’d thought she’d left for the day, and he certainly hadn’t reacted like he was happy to see her when he was wrong.  He’d acted annoyed, like she wasn’t supposed to still be there.

“Darc, you have to know, that morning? I didn’t mean it like that. Whatever you think I meant, it wasn’t that.  Yeah I had thought you left already, and when you came barging back in I’d just fucked up royally for like the fith time that morning.  I took it out on you, I shouldn't have. I figured you’d come back later, and I’d make up for it then, but you made some excuse about going to see Nat, who was in Russia for Pete’s sake.”

“You didn’t call me out on it, when I said I was going to dinner with Nat.”

“I didn’t think about it until later, Darc.”

“I thought you didn’t want me coming over any more.  I thought I’d misread the situation, that I was overstepping boundaries.” Her expression goes soft and she looks away from him, folding her hands in her lap. 

“I’m sorry, Darcy.  I’m not good at this, I’m not good at talking.  I’m not good at being open, or vulnerable, or any of that stuff. I’m used to being alone.  Doesn’t mean I want to be. But that’s just… that’s how it’s been, for a long long time.”

“What were you going to say to me if I came back that night?” She doesn’t look at him, she’s nervously picking at her fingernails. Bucky walks over to her and lifts her chin with a finger until she’s looking into his eyes again. 

“I was going to tell you, that even though it scares the crap out of me, I want you to move in. Like, move in all the way.  And that…” he takes a breath, feeling the weight of what he’s going to say as it hangs on his tongue, “And I would have told you that I love you, Darcy.”

“You do not,” she says.

“No, I most certainly do. Despite how absolutely annoying your taste in music is, and the fact that you think Shazam is the best superhero, I love you.  I’ve tried remembering if there was ever anyone else, and I can’t.  There was never anyone who felt so right, until you.”

“We haven’t even kissed, James.”

“I’m like 100 years old darlin’. Back in my day, first base was seeing your girlfriend’s ankles. I had to Google all of this, and then ask Steve, and it was incredibly awkward.”

This makes a smile crack on Darcy’s face, finally. “What exactly did you Google, I’m afraid to ask.”

“Something along the lines of ‘dating in the 21st century rules’.  And yes, I did get some stuff that was mildly scarring.  The internet is… it’s weird.”

“You’re weird,” Darcy teases, punching his arm gently. 

“I know,” he says with a chuckle. And then, softly, taking both her hands in his, “I want to work on being better, for you.”

“I’ll try to cut you some slack, for the age gap mishaps.”

He rolls his eyes, and then cups her face in his hands, and kisses her.  He’s thought about this moment hundreds of times, but it is so much better than he could have imagined. Her lipgloss is flavored like vanilla frosting, and when her tongue starts exploring his mouth he can taste her favorite cinnamon gum.

“You taste good,” Bucky says, biting her lower lip, “Shoulda done that sooner.”

“No shit,” Darcy says, pulling him in for another deep kiss, “ You think this is good, just wait until you find out what a homerun feels like.” She winks at him and hops off her chair, “I have to get back to work, dinner later?”

“Only if I get to have you for dessert?” The look on her face is priceless, and he lets out a choked laugh, “I’m sorry, that was probably not th-”

“Shut up,” Darcy says, covering his mouth with her hand, “Don’t ruin it. I want to remember this moment forever.  I’ll be over at 6, and if you finish your dinner, maybe I’ll let you have something sweet.”

With a wink, Darcy is out the door and down the hall, leaving Bucky standing in the doctor’s office, grinning like a damn fool.

Current Threat Level: N/A

Chapter Text

Bucky heads back to his apartment and immediately starts digging around for stuff to make dinner.  Tonight has to be perfect, he has to show Darcy he’s in this for the long haul.  He settles on steak with chimichurri sauce, since ‘chimichurri’ is apparently one of Darcy’s favorite words.  Baked potatoes with all the fixings, a side salad, and peach cobbler for dessert. By the time 6 o’clock rolls around, he’s got candles lit and Jarvis is playing Darcy’s favorite music over the bluetooth speakers.  The steak is resting, the potatoes are wrapped in foil, and there’s 40 minutes left on his oven timer. 

Darcy lets herself in and Yulia goes running over like a madwoman.  They haven’t seen each other since Darcy left the other morning, and he feels a twinge of guilt realizing it's been almost a week. 

“There’s my favorite girl,” Darcy says, bending down and taking Yulia into her arms, “I’m sorry your daddy is a crabby asshole, I should have kidnapped you.”

Darcy shoots Bucky a shit-eating grin and stands, taking off her coat. She’s wearing dark wash jeans and a flowy turquoise blouse.  Bucky resists the urge to scoop her up and carry her to the bedroom right now .

“You look beautiful,” he says, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“You rip this shirt later and I’ll kill you,” she hisses into his ear, returning the kiss. 

She’s like no other, truly.  With her long dark curls and her frosty blue eyes.  She’s got curves he could get lost in, and a permanent smirk plastered on her lips.  He loves how she’s never fussed about wearing what’s ‘trendy’ and instead wears what she likes, which is almost always black or navy, and always comfortable.  

They catch up on the last week over dinner, and then the conversation moves to talking about Darcy’s family, and then swings around to Bucky’s upcoming therapy appointments. 

“I’ll drive you,” Darcy says, “It’s nice to have someone go with you, at least for the first couple of times.”

Bucky gives her a grateful smile, “Thanks, Darc. It’s definitely going to be a new experience.”

“I think everyone in this tower has seen a shrink at one point,” Darcy says with a shrug, “Consider it a rite of passage.”

They sit in silence for a while, until Darcy is scraping the rest of her chimichurri off her plate and Bucky smiles at her, satisfied that she enjoyed her meal. “I meant what I said earlier you know,” he says, sipping his wine. 

“Which part?”

“Well, all of it. I want to work on being more open, with you, and with everyone.  I need to stop acting like a lone wolf, that’s not me anymore.”

“No now you’re just a brooding lil wolf.”

“Brooding? I’m not brooding, am I?”

“It’s one of your best qualities,” Darcy laughs.

“I thought my disposition was quite charming.”

“Now don’t get cocky on me,” Darcy warns teasingly, “Remember that tonight’s date is for all the marbles, and I reserve the right to revoke your rights to my heart at any time.”

“You know, you didn’t say you love me back, Darc.”

“You gotta earn that one, bud.  Show me all the right cards tonight, and maybe you’ll hear the magic words.”

He pouts at her, but he can hear the teasing in her voice.  “So, you ready for cobbler?”

Darcy nods emphatically, “Thank god you learned to cook, I can’t cook, but now I don’t need to.”

“Happy to be your personal chef,” Bucky says with a bow, clearing their dinner plates. He comes back to the table with cobbler and vanilla ice cream on top, and the coffee maker is gurgling away making a fresh pot. 

“Please tell me you didn’t make decaf, nothing worse than decaf. Give me full-caf, anytime of day, possibly intravenously….” 

“Darc, do you even know me? I don’t even own decaf.”

Darcy clutches her chest, “A man after my own heart.”

“Oh I’m after more than your heart,” Bucky says smoothly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear before sitting down. 

“You’re getting way too good at this,” Darcy says, fanning herself, “Now let me eat my cobbler, because it smells fucking amazing.  It would be a shame to let it get cold.”

Darcy scarfs down dessert, making groans of pleasure with every other bite.  “Seriously, even if you’re lousy in bed, I’m keeping you just so you can make this for me all the damn time.”

“What if I offered to feed you peach cobbler in bed?”

Her eyes loll and she fans herself again, “You keep it up and we’re having sex on the dining room table.”

“Is that a threat or an offer?”

Darcy’s on her feet in seconds, “Ok, that’s it, bedroom.” 

Bucky is very careful not to rip her blouse, but he’s not as careful removing the rest of her clothes.  And considering Darcy returns the favor by ripping his shirt off, Bucky knows she’s not mad he ripped her thong…

Current Threat Level: N/A

Chapter Text

When they wake up the next morning they’re a jumble of limbs.  Darcy’s tucked up under Bucky’s left arm and straddling his torso with both legs.  Bucky’s right arm is draped over her, with one hand gently cupping her bum, and his legs are sprawled diagonally under Darcy.

“You know, normally when I wake up naked, I wake up next to a dude with a mullet named Chad or Thad who smells like weed and stale beer.”

“Good morning to you too, Darc,” Bucky laughs, squeezing her butt cheek playfully. 

“I could get used to waking up next to you instead,” Darcy says, wriggling her right arm out from underneath him and stroking his cheek, “Never thought I was much of an Ivy League kinda gal, but I’d be lying if I said last night didn’t change my mind.”  She rolls on top of him and her thumbs make lazy circles at his temples.  She draws in close to him and gently brings her lips onto his, then whispers “You win, James Buchanan Barnes.  I love you.”

He’s breathless, staring up at her, until she draws near for another kiss.  “I love you, so much,” he says. 

They lay in bed enjoying the feel of one another’s radiating body heat under the cool satin sheets until Darcy announces she has to pee.  With that, they roll out of bed, and Bucky goes to start coffee and pop some tinned cinnamon rolls in the oven for breakfast. 

“What, no breakfast from scratch?” Darcy enters the kitchen, she’s wearing Bucky’s sweatpants and one of his tee-shirts. 

“I haven’t gotten to the class on breakfast pastries,” Bucky replies, “So Pillsbury’s taking this one.”

“One point for the Doughboy,” Darcy says, poking Bucky’s abs with one finger before helping herself to a cup of coffee.  When she stretches to reach a mug from the cabinet he sees a peek of her tattoo and lets out a soft snort. 

“Something funny?” she says over her shoulder. 

“You’re friends with, like, at least six actual superheroes, and yet you have a Wonder Woman tramp stamp.”

“It was either that, or a lightning strike between my cheeks,” she turns to look at him with a smirk, just in time to catch him almost choke on his coffee, “Sorry, gramps.”

“You kill me, Darcy.”

~~~ 3 weeks later ~~~

It’s Saturday night, Sam, Steve and Bucky are having a guys’ night at Steve’s apartment.  Darcy, Jane, and Nat are at Bucky’s, watching Yulia and probably gossiping about the rest of them like teenagers. 

“I can’t tell you how glad I am that you and Darcy worked things out,” Sam says, “You were starting to be a real moody pain in the ass.”

Bucky throws a tortilla chip at his head, “Let me lock you in a freezer for 70 years and see how good your emotional control is afterwards.”

“Cap was stuck in an iceberg and he came out ok,” Sam tosses an M&M at Bucky, but misses and hits Steve. 

“Seriously?” Steve rolls his eyes, “Can we talk about something more important, like what we’re gonna order for dinner?”

“I could go for a cheeseburger,” Sam suggests, “Oh, and a milkshake.”

Steve and Bucky nod in agreement, “Well that was easy.”

They put in their order and Steve grabs another round of beers from the fridge.  They’re an Asguardian brew that Thor has promised can even get Steve a little tipsy.

“I’m gonna have to tap out at two,” Sam says, popping the cap off, “Or I’ll be comatose and you two will get to have all the fun.”

“I have regular beers too, Sam,” Steve says, “Wouldn’t want PETA on my ass for endangering a wild animal.”

“Ha-ha,” Sam scowls, “So, when are we moving Darcy in? Thursday night?”

“Yeah, works for me.  I think Thor and Banner said they’re free too, we should be able to move her stuff within like, what, an hour?”

“Crazy you’re finally settling down,” Steve says, “Only took you a century.”

“Oh shut up,” Bucky replies, blushing, “You two are the ones who’ve been playing matchmaker.”

“No but really though Buck, this is great.  I’m really proud of you. I know it’s gotta be tough not having all your old memories back, and feeling like whatever you do remember’s from a past life.  But you’re making new memories now, new good memories.”

Bucky shrugs, “Most of what I remember is stuff you told me, Steve.  So most of it is good stuff, but… it sometimes just doesn’t feel like it’s mine, ya know?”

Steve nods, “I never had the same exact problem, but I get it.  Trying to bridge the gap between life now and life then… it’s complicated.  But, with good friends surrounding you, it’s a lot easier.”  He claps Sam on the shoulder and downs the rest of his beer. 

When Steve returns with another round for them, Sam raises his beer in toast, “To good friends!”

They clink bottles and sip, before hearing the door buzzer signal that their food had arrived. 

By the end of the night Steve is indeed a bit drunk, as are Sam and Bucky.  The three of them are in hysterics over Sam’s best attempt at performing ‘Titanic’ for his round of charades.

“Priceless,” Steve cackles, “I wish I’d recorded that.”

“You’d be dead, dude,” Sam wheezes, “No one outside these walls can know about this.”

“Oh they’re gonna know,” Bucky chortles, “Just a shame they won’t see.”

“Titanic is a two-person charade,” Sam complains, “How’m I supposed to be Rose and Jack?”

Steve wipes a tear from his eye, “Not like that, whatever that was.”

“You looked like Jesus,” Bucky snorts, “Or, I dunno, a drunk falcon?”

They’re quiet for a moment, and then Steve pipes up excitedly, “Hey Buck, when you’re gonna propose to Darcy, we should totally invite her over for game night and then you can charades it to her!”

Sam rolls his eyes, “What’s that look like other than just dropping on one knee?”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Bucky says, “Who said I’m proposing to Darcy?”

Sam twacks him on the back of the head, “Don’t act like you weren’t lookin’ at engagement rings on your phone.”

Bucky’s face flushes crimson and he stammers, “I-I was not looking at engagement rings, I just…. I was gift shopping ‘is all.”

“You don’t get a girl a ring as a gift if it ain’t a promise ring or an engagement ring,” Steve says.

“So? Who says I wasn’t lookin’ at promise rings?”

“The color your face just turned says it all,” Sam laughs, “Gonna start callin’ you The Lobstah Soldyah.”

“Do not tell Darcy,” Bucky whines, “Seriously, it’s too soon. But yes, I am thinking about it.”

Steve and Sam both cross over their hearts and zip their lips, “Scout's honor, Buck.”

“Can’t believe you’re gonna be a regular run of the mill married man,” Steve says with a sigh, and then a sly smile, “Do me 'n Sam get to be groomsmen?”

“So long as I don’t kill the both of you first,” Bucky retorts. 

They all fall into a fit of laughter.  Not long after they go back to their game of charades.  

Sometime around 1 AM Sam is snoring on the couch and Steve and Bucky draw a mustache on him with a marker, giggling like little kids.

It’s a good night, Bucky concludes, one of the best nights he’s had in decades. 

</ERROR CODE 025: NO THREAT LEVEL DETECTED/>

Chapter Text

~~~ 1 year later~~~

Bucky wakes at 4 AM with a startle, a loud crash from the kitchen sends him stalking down the hallway with his pistol in hand. As he rounds the corner he breathes a sigh of relief when he realizes it’s just Darcy. 

“What the hell?!” Darcy says, eyeing the gun in his hand, “Geez Louise, you really are overprotective of your Oreos, Steve was right.”

Bucky shoves the gun in his waistband and pulls Darcy close, “I’m sorry, Darc, I heard a crash and it woke me up.  Got spooked ‘is all.”

She smiled up at him and gave him a peck on the lips.  In the soft moonlight filtering through the curtains he could just make out her silhouette, and he gently caressed her newly swollen stomach.

“I got up to get a snack, and I couldn’t reach, and I knocked over the blender.  Too fat, stumpy legs, T-rex arms.”

Bucky chuckled softly and fetched the Oreos from the shelf for her.  He was still in awe of the life they had created with one another, and the new lives that were on their way to join them.  

Bucky had proposed to Darcy in August, by the fountain in the park that she always said reminded her of the TV show ‘Friends’.  They hadn’t exactly been able to get married, since Bucky was technically listed as deceased by the state of New York.  But they were able to have a Wakandan ceremony, which was beautiful and truly everything they could have wanted. They honeymooned on one of Stark’s private islands, and it was there they discovered that 100 year old sperm apparently does still have the potential to impregnate a very healthy 30 year old… Poor Darcy spent the last three days of their trip feeling rather nauseous, and not being able to enjoy any more pina coladas... 

When they arrived back home, Tony’s doctor confirmed what Darcy’s pregnancy test had suggested, and he also just about sent the both of them to the grave with his other bit of insight: it was with twins. 

“I hope our daughter inherits your T-rex arms,” Bucky said, kissing the top of Darcy’s head.

“And I hope our son doesn’t inherit your inability to share food.”

One boy and one girl.  ‘Now all we need is a white picket fence and a Golden Retriever named Duke’ Darcy had said right after finding out, which honestly sounded perfect to Bucky.  But for now they were content nesting in their apartment, close by to loved ones who were ready to pitch in and help care for the twins once they arrived. 

Winnifred Jane & James Grant Lewis, named after Bucky’s mother, Jane, Bucky’s father, and Steve, respectively.  And not to be left out, Sam, Nat, Tony, and Pepper were set to be the godparents. It was Bucky’s idea to use Darcy’s surname, it felt more important to him for her name to be carried on than his. ‘Plus, the world doesn’t need another James Barnes running around.’

Bucky’s train of thought is interrupted by Darcy loudly crunching on a cookie. “You want a glass of milk with those?” She nodded gleefully and went to sit down, so he poured them each a glass before joining her at the kitchen table. Bucky had never fancied himself one to settle down with a wife and kids, but this felt right .  Everything he knew about the Bucky Barnes from before he’d been captured suggested he was destined to spend his life filling some void with meaningless one night stands.  It was almost like he’d needed to have the pause button hit on his life, for the last 70 some odd years, in order for that hole to be filled once and for all. Since, there had been no Darcy back then, to make him feel like the luckiest man on Earth. 

“Don’t forget we have birthing class on Wednesday,” Darcy said, wiping her milk mustache with her sleeve, “And then tomorrow we need to hit Walmart for some supplies.” 

“This is not how I was planning on spending my retirement years,” Bucky joked, “I was thinking Bingo and all you can eat buffets, not birthing classes and burp rags.” 

“Then next time don’t assume you’re shooting blanks, Barnes,” Darcy said coyly. 

“Maybe if you weren’t so damn sexy this wouldn’t have happened,” he shot back.

Darcy waggled her eyebrows at him and chomped another cookie, “Well your only mission from now on is to make sure you wrap it before you tap it, because we are not doing this again. Two is plenty. Two is perfect .”

“Copy that,” Bucky said, taking another Oreo and shoving it in his mouth. 

They sat in silence, other than their munching.  They succeeded in polishing off the rest of the cookies before Darcy let out a yawn, and Bucky carried her back to bed. He gently tucked her in before sliding under the sheets next to her.

“Love you, Lewis,” he whispered. 

“Love you, Barnes,” she whispered back.

As he fell into a relaxing slumber, it occurred to him that this is what heaven must be like.  Peace, love, comfort, and someone important to share all of that with.  Finally, after decades of yearning to feel like he was where he was meant to be, he finally was: he was home.  

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