Archive of Our Own

When Steve Rogers was born, the first thing his mother noticed was that his right eye, his soul eye, was a cloudy white colour. Sarah Rogers knew that could only mean that Steve's soulmate was dead before he'd been born.

As the boy grew, he was small, skinny and sickly, and he knew his soulmate was already dead. Steve, on his worst days, was glad for it. He couldn't imagine loving someone so much, only to have himself inflicted on them for their foreseeable future. Or, at least until the next winter when Steve would finally catch the cold that did him in.

It was the knowledge that he didn't have a soulmate to look forward to meeting that pushed Steve into Erskine's program. It wasn't like he had much to lose. By that point, his ma had died, and he was alone.

There'd been a fleeting moment, when they'd first met, that Steve had blindly, foolishly, hoped that Peggy could somehow be his soulmate, nevermind that her soul eye was definitively green, not the watery blue that was Steve's own eye colour. Part of him just, hoped that while the serum was breathing life into the rest of Steve's body, that maybe, just maybe, it could breathe it into his soul eye too.

After going from the scrawny kid from Brooklyn to the Star Spangled Man with a Plan himself, Steve would often find himself wondering, what his soulmate would have thought of the change. Would they have preferred his small stature, and fighter's spirit? Or would they have liked this bigger version of Steve, same fighter's spirit but on a body to match.

Of course, Steve would never know. Every time he glanced in the mirror, the milky sheen of his soul eye, seemingly dead and sightless, haunted him. He'd never meet the one soul the Universe thought perfect for him, and no amount of heroism would change that.

Yet, it was that fact that made Steve the perfect Captain America. He had nothing to lose, no soulmate to live for, nothing to go back home to. He gave his everything every fight, every time he and the Howling Commandos took down a Hydra outpost, Steve fought as hard as he possibly could, pushed himself to the absolute limit. He only thought about the men in his unit with their soul eye yet to change, and those that already had, that had soulmates waiting for them somewhere, waiting to meet them.

Perhaps it was a selfless act that lead to Steve landing the Valkyrie in the middle of the Arctic, perhaps it was the fact that Steve really did have nothing to lose, save a dance with a girl that wasn't his soulmate, no matter how hard he might have hoped she could have been. Either way, Steve figured one good thing could come of it.

He'd finally get to meet his soulmate.

But he couldn't have been more wrong.

Growing up, Bucky always knew he was different. His soulmate was dead, probably long before Bucky had been born. His right eye was a mess of dead looking white and cloudy appearance that made him seem partially blind. He knew it wasn't normal. His little sister Becca had the warmest shade of brown offsetting her own blue, and his best friend Sam had the opposite, with a blue hazel soul eye to compare to his own dark brown iris.

It didn't bother him so much that his soulmate was dead, Bucky didn't think he needed a soulmate to be happy, and the idea of destiny was always a bit unnerving. What did bother him was the way people always stared at him, mix of horror and pity, when they saw the lifeless sheen in his soul eye. He hated it, grew to resent the idea of soulmates on the whole, and he was willing to come to blows with anyone staring just a little too long at the symbol that Bucky Barnes really was the butt of some cosmic joke.

So, the day Sam got his first car, the two went to the mall, and Bucky got discount colour contact lenses. He didn't even care about the colour. He immediately put one in, and stared at his reflection for longer than he cared to admit. But the hideous white of his soul eye was masked under a plain, drab looking brown. It wasn't exactly a pretty colour, but at this point, Bucky would take it.

They did their job too. Bucky didn't get pitying stares anymore, didn't have kids scream when they saw the zombie-like quality of his soul eye. Sure, everyone and their grandmother knew he was wearing contacts, seeing as the colour varied depending on what colour contacts he was able to get, but it was better than the alternative.

Now though, Bucky was twenty-six years old, an engineer at Stark Industries, and he could officially afford the nice contacts, the kind he didn't have to take out every night. He wore a colour similar to his own, a steel blue colour he choose to cutback on people thinking they see their eye in his. Better they think he already found his soulmate than to think they might be his.

It was better this way, to close off from people. Yeah, Sam, still his best friend after twenty years, thinks he's an idiot and thinks he should at least try to date, but honestly, the idea just didn't appeal. What was the point of dating someone that was really just, biding time until they found their soulmate?

The answer, as far as Bucky was concerned, was absolutely no point at all.

Steve woke, eyes fixed on an unfamiliar ceiling, laying in an unfamiliar bed. He felt momentarily lost, disoriented, and confused. There was a game on the radio, and something about it was so familiar. He knew that game, didn't he?

Steve sat up slowly, taking in the rest of the room. There was something, not quite right about it, and he was too, jumbled to work it out. His eyes kept falling on the radio, he knew that he knew that game.

He didn't get the chance to ponder further, because the door to the room opened and a woman walked in. Steve felt his confusion grow. Everything about her was, wrong. Her hair, her clothes, and dare he say her breasts. But she was smiling at him, shutting the door behind her. "Good morning," she said, her voice soft like she was afraid of startling a wild animal. And maybe she was, Steve felt tense and off kilter, so maybe he was the wild animal. "Or should I say afternoon?"

"Where am I?" Steve asked, brow furrowing in his confusion. Whatever she said next, he had a feeling she was only going to give him part of the truth.

"You're in a recovery room in New York City," she replied, face still gentle. He wanted to roll his eyes at her. He wasn't sure how truthful that statement was, but he could tell as plain as his could move his own toes, that there was so much more she wasn't telling him.

Steve stole a glance out the window, eyes falling back on the radio. He knew that game was familiar, he remembered it. "Where am I really?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand," the woman replied, just as calm, but the facade broke ever so slightly.

"The game," Steve pointed out, choosing to avoid any comments on the inaccuracies in the woman's appearance. His ma taught him never say anything negative about the way a woman looked, it was impolite. "It's from May 1941. I know, because I was there.

Steve got to his feet, moving towards the woman and the door. "Now, I'm gonna ask you again," he said, his voice low as he moved even closer. He wasn't exactly trying to intimidate her, but if it happened, well, sometimes things happened. "Where am I really?"

The woman had tensed up, like she knew she'd kicked a hornet's nest, and was just hoping they didn't notice her to sting her. "Captain Rogers..."

"Who are you?" Steve knew he'd raised his voice, he didn't entirely mean to, but when the door behind her opened and a pair of soldiers walked in, well, he wasn't Captain America for nothing.

It took almost no effort to shove the two men though the wall, clearly flimsy and fake, something Steve was at least a little grateful. He vaulted out after them, staring at the warehouse for a moment, before hurrying out the door.

He could hear commotion behind him, but he wasn't interested, he just needed to know where he was.

" All agents, code thirteen ," the woman's voice sounded over some kind of speaker. " I repeat, all agents code thirteen. "

The people in the hall turned, attention fixed on Steve, and Steve didn't think, he just, ran. Ran until he found the front door, and escaped onto a dirty street filled with odd, irregular cars, and he kept running, with the flow of traffic, bright lights, flashing signs, towering metal buildings covered with windows, all of it, so much, so different.

He remembered the jet, crashing in the Arctic. He was supposed to find his soulmate, he was supposed to be dead. But this didn't look like any place he'd seen before, and his soulmate hadn't greeted him like he'd always been told would happen.

Steve stopped running, shiny black cars quickly boxing him in. He thought about running again, finding a new exit and seeing how far it would be to run home to Brooklyn, when a voice stopped him. "At ease soldier," a man said, and Steve turned to face him. He was dressed in black from his eyepatch down to his shoes. "Look, I'm sorry about that little show back there. We thought it est to break it to you slowly."

This was the part where they told him that he was in Hell, that he'd gone to Hell and his soulmate was in Heaven and he'd never get to meet them. "Break what?" He asked, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"You've been asleep Cap for almost seventy years," the man said, fixing Steve with a single-eyed stare. And it was like the world dropped out from under him. He wasn't even dead. This wasn't a Heaven or Hell question, this, Steve hadn't died. His soulmate wasn't here, because Steve was not dead .

Steve looked around, taking in the city, the way it was different. It had to be New York City still, Manhattan probably. He wondered what Brooklyn looked like now. "You gonna be okay?" The man asked, this time Steve didn't bother looking at him. The only good thing he'd been able to come up with in his plan to die to save thousands, had been that he'd finally get to meet the one soul that was meant for him. Even that hadn't worked.

Steve couldn't do anything right. "Yeah, yeah, I just, I had a date," he admitted, a date with his soulmate in the afterlife. One he'd only been waiting for since the moment his ma explained to him what the white of his eye really meant.

"If you want to come with me Cap, I've got a place you can stay," the man was saying, dragging Steve from his own morbid thoughts. Steve didn't know the man's name, but really, the worst that could happen would be him killing Steve, which, he wasn't sure was a bad thing. At least he'd get that date.

So Steve went, following the man to a shiny black car, and freezing the moment he caught his own reflection. He blinked once, twice. Then he practically ripped the mirror from the side of the car trying to get a better look.

His eye, his soul eye, the one that had been white, clouded over, no life in its gaze since he could remember had colour. It was a beautiful, pale blue. So pale really, they barely had more colour to them than the white he'd had before, but it was there. Unmistakable.

His soulmate was alive. How, how could the soulmate that had been dead before he'd been born be alive now ? Steve felt his chest tighten. He had a soulmate out there, and he couldn't stop the giddy grin from taking over his features.

On instruction, Steve got into the car with the man, still smiling like an idiot as they drove through a city that was familiar and unfamiliar to him.

Bucky was getting coffee at the coffee shop across from the Stark Tower, when an army of black cars pulled up outside the building. Heaving a sigh, Bucky took his coffee and started making his way back to the tower, trying to weave through what he figured were SHIELD agents.

He got close enough to see the source of the commotion, a tall man with broad shoulders and a head of blond hair being ushered from one of the vehicles and into the building. He didn't get the chance for a better look because a pair of agents had noticed him, one stripping him of his coffee and the other slamming Bucky chest first into a car and pinning him there.

"This area is restricted," the man practically snarled, holding Bucky in place and putting him in handcuffs. Seriously? What the actual fuck?

"Get off," Bucky practically shouted, trying to throw the man off him, and it wasn't that Bucky didn't work out. He really did. But he was still an engineer, this guy was a federal agent. He didn't really stand a chance. "I work here, Dr. James Barnes. I just want to go back to work."

The agent hauled Bucky off the car, hands still cuffed behind his back and started shoving him towards an SUV. "A likely story," the man countered, and between him and the other agent, the two moved Bucky towards the open door of the vehicle.

Bucky started to struggle, calling for anyone, Sam specifically. His friend was part of security, so he should be able to confirm that yes, Bucky did in fact work here.

"Is he being arrested?" A deep, unfamiliar voice said, and Bucky jerked his head around to see the blond man standing there, SSR t-shirt stretched tightly over a broad chest. There were agents on the ground behind him, as though he'd shove through them to get to Bucky.

Maybe he had, Bucky had been completely focused on not being shoved into an SUV to be taken to the SHIELD HQ for the foreseeable future.

"Yes he is Captain," the man that had cuffed Bucky was saying, trying to subtly move Bucky towards the open door. Bucky squirmed, jabbing his elbow into the man's stomach. He heard the satisfying sound of the man being winded, but he seemed to recover quickly. "Entering a restricted area, resisting arrest, assaulting a federal agent, and I'm sure we can find a way to make stalking stick."

"Stalking my ass!" Bucky was still shouting, trying to drive his elbow back into the man's stomach. "I told you! I work here. I have an ID badge, but you didn't even give me the chance to get that out. Dr. James Barnes, research and development, sustainable energy division."

"If he works here, than he shouldn't be arrested," the blond man was saying, and the agent turned, with Bucky in tow, to face him. And Bucky was definitely staring at the hottest guy he'd ever seen. He had muscles everywhere, like, literally. Bucky wasn't sure the man had an ounce of body fat on him. He had broad shoulders, and a slim waist. He was just taller than Bucky, maybe a half an inch. He had his blond hair styled like Bucky's great granddad had worn his hair. And his jawline, Bucky was pretty sure jawlines that chiselled were only on statues, and actually chiselled. He had sharp cheekbones, that emphasised the colour of his eyes. He still had two eye colours, his own eye a soft blue, like the ocean just after a storm, flecks of green adding interest.

But his soul eye caused Bucky's breath to catch. It wasn't actually possible, he knew, Bucky didn't have a soulmate. But if he hadn't known the truth, he could have been certain that the steel blue on the man's soul eye was an exact match for Bucky's. The contrast was quite striking between them. Two blue eyes, but very different blue eyes.

"We're under orders Captain," the first agent, the one that had ruined Bucky's coffee, was saying, oblivious of the fact that Bucky was about to have a panic attack, because he'd never wanted to have a soulmate more than he did in this moment.

"Then I'll take him," the blond man, the captain, whatever, said. He reached out and took Bucky's arm in his hand, long fingers curling around his elbow. "Your name agent?"

"Rumlow, sir, Brock Rumlow," the agent that cuffed Bucky said, standing at the attention. The blond nodded at him, and began escorting Bucky towards the building.

"Dr. Barnes, right?" The blond asked, smiling over at Bucky, and whoa. That was a beautiful smile. Bucky really wished he had a soulmate, because if he did, the pale blue of this man's soul eye would be close enough for Bucky to really wonder.

Bucky nodded, blinking for a moment. "Bucky," he said, watching as Steve's expression shifted into confusion. Oh. "People call me Bucky."

The answering smile the man gave him was blinding. "Bucky," he repeated, the way Bucky's name sounded in the man's voice sent a shiver down Bucky's spine. "I'm Steve."

Steve was still smiling as he led Bucky into the main entrance of the Stark Tower. "Hey, let him go!" The voice of Sam carried over the bustle of various agents. Bucky glanced over at his friend, the agents had Sam restrained quite a ways back, he struggled to get passed them. A quick wave of Steve's hand, and the agents let Sam hurry over. "Why is he in cuffs? He works here, dammit."

"I know," Steve said, his presence calming despite the atmosphere. "I just escorted him in, I was going to check his credentials and then I was going to release him."

"I got an ID," Bucky pointed out, shifting slightly. "Left side, under my jacket." Steve nodded, broad palm brushing against Bucky's chest. Steve's mismatched blue eyes focused on the badge for a moment before he nodded. "That means I'm good Steve?"

Steve nodded, shifting behind Bucky and touched the cuffs. "Oh no...." Steve sighed, patting at his pockets absently.

"You don't have the keys, do you?" Bucky asked, looking over his shoulder to see Steve's cheeks flush red. "Seriously?"

"I've got it," Steve muttered, his strong fingers gripping the cuffs. The metal groaned and snapped, freeing Bucky's wrist. Bucky, well, he stared. That was maybe the hottest thing he'd ever witnessed. Steve could apparently break handcuffs open with his bare hands, and wasn't that something.

"Did you just, with your hands?" Sam was staring at Steve too, his expression more terrified than Bucky's. Which, Bucky supposed was fair, probably not a turn on for everyone, that kind of strength.

Steve's face turned red again, and wasn't he just adorable? Bucky couldn't help but smile as he rubbed absently at his wrists. "Yeah, sorry, I–"

Steve was cut off by the appearance of a man dressed in black and an eye patch covering his left eye. "Cap, let's go," the man said, and Steve nodded before smiling apologetically at Bucky.

"Of course," the blond said, still smiling in Bucky's direction. "It was nice to meet you Bucky, and, Bucky's friend, I'm Steve by the way."

Steve was led away, following a stuttering of Sam's name and Bucky's half-dazed goodbye. The agents all filed upstairs after Steve and the man in black, leaving Sam and Bucky to stare after them in the lobby of the Stark Tower.

"Bucky," Sam said, finally breaking the silence. "You do realise you just had Captain America save you from being arrested, right?"

Bucky's gaze snapped from the elevator to Sam's. "What? You mean, Steve? Steve's Captain America?" he wondered, mind already whirling. Now that he thought about it, Captain America was called Steve back in the 1940s, Steve Rogers if memory served him. "Oh my god. I got saved by Captain America, and Captain America is way hotter than the books said he was."

"Seriously?" Sam asked, his face twisted slightly. "Although, there was a split second there, I coulda sworn that soul eye of his was yours."

"I don't have a soulmate Sam," Bucky reminded, almost gently. "But if I did, I could do so much worse that Captain freaking America."

Sam laughed, nudging Bucky with his elbow. "You gotta go back to work doc, I'll get you a new coffee. The agents outside would probably try to arrest you again," the man said, reminding Bucky of his lost drink.

"Yeah, yeah, punks," Bucky muttered, heading for the elevator to head to his lab. "See you in a bit Wilson."

"Get back to work Barnes," Sam called after him as the elevator doors closed behind Bucky. Shooting his friend a look, Bucky flipped him off before the elevator started to ascend to Bucky's lab.

Bucky rubbed at his face, sighing softly. The sooner Sam came up with that coffee, the better.

Steve could not stop smiling. It was stupid, he knew, to smile like this. He'd only gone to help, between the protests of the man being arrested and the man from security trying to get through to go to his aid, Steve figured it was a bit of a misunderstanding.

So, he'd gone to help, shoving off hands trying to stop him. He wasn't going to sit idly by and watch someone get arrested for simply trying to go to work, but having the misfortune of doing so at the same time they were escorting Steve to the massive building.

Maybe it was partly guilt, after all, if Steve hadn't been here, Bucky wouldn't have even had to worry about getting arrested. But he was glad he did, all the same. It didn't take long, just one glance, Bucky's pale blue iris was a match for Steve's soul eye, he knew it was.

Steve had stared at the new colour the entire car ride over, he'd recognise it anywhere, he was sure. The only part he couldn't explain, was how Bucky's eyes were the same colour, he'd already met his soulmate, but Steve could have sworn, absolutely sworn, that he was Bucky's.

He turned to Nick, a frown just barely edging onto his features. "Can I get information on that man?" Steve asked, curiosity absolutely killing him. "James Barnes, he said, he works here."

Nick raised an eyebrow at Steve, probably trying to parse the reason for Steve's inquiry. "I'll get you a file," he said eventually.

Steve didn't have a chance to ask anything else, because the elevator doors slid open and there stood a man with dark hair, dark eyes, and odd glow on his chest. "There you are, finally, I've got things to do, let's go," the man said, turning and walking away.

Steve glanced at Nick, that confused expression returning to his face. Nick just gestured for him to follow, so Steve did. "Hi," Steve said, briefly jogging to catch up. "You must be Tony Stark, Fury told me about you in the car."

"That's me," Tony said, stopping in front of a door. "Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, superhero, Iron Man, I answer to those too." Tony tapped at a blue rectangle on the wall, and Steve frowned a bit. "Jarvis, take the Capsicle's biometrics, this is his room now."

"Of course sir," a voice from nowhere replied. Steve's head whipped up, looking around frantically. He couldn't find the man speaking, and it was a bit upsetting. "Captain Rogers, please place your hand on the screen." The blond still hesitated, until Tony grabbed his wrist and placed Steve's hand against the rectangle he'd been tapping at earlier.

"That's Jarvis," Tony explained, as the rectangle flashed under Steve's palm. "He's the AI, the butler, and assistant. If you need anything, ask Jarvis first. If Jarvis can't help you, better hope you've got Fury on speed dial, because I certainly can't help."

Steve wanted to ask what speed dial was, but he figured, he could just wait, and ask Jarvis. "Please lean forward Captain Rogers, place your face near the screen," the voice instructed. Steve hesitated a moment, before complying. The screen flashed again, making Steve blink rapidly to clear the spots from his eyes.

"This is your room Rogers," Tony said, pushing the door to reveal a room larger than Steve's entire apartment had been. And it seemed just to be a living room. There were doors leading to further rooms. "There's a gym on the floor below, Jarvis can help you if you get lost. I've got work to do, so I'll be off."

With that, Tony was gone, leaving Steve standing alone in the entryway of a large suite of rooms with nothing but the shirt on his back to claim. Well, he wasn't even sure it was his. They probably gave it to him before we woke up. "Jarvis?" Steve questioned the room, still wary of the system.

"Yes Captain Rogers?" Steve startled slightly, only half expecting the room not to answer, that the few times he'd heard the voice, it had just been a gimmick of Tony's. Steve had seen Howard Stark pull a gimmick with a flying car, and clearly they didn't have those yet, and it'd been a long time.

"Do you know the people who work here?" Steve asked, his thoughts flickering to Bucky. Maybe he didn't have to wait for Nick to bring him a file. If Jarvis knew, he could use that. "Specifically Dr. James Barnes."

"I can give you the overview sir, but I'm afraid specifics would be considered a security breach," Jarvis replied, and Steve nodded. That seemed fair enough. "Dr. James Buchanan Barnes is the youngest doctor on staff. He graduated with a bachelor's degree in mechanical and electrical engineering from MIT at the age of sixteen, and graduated with a PhD in mechanical engineering from MIT at the age of twenty. He went on to intern with Stark Industries for one year, before being formally offered a position full time. He currently works in our sustainable energy division, helping Mr. Stark perfect arc reactor technology for large scale energy distribution."

Steve wasn't about to lie to the room, and say he understood all of that, but he think he understood enough. "So, he's smart," he said with a smile. He couldn't believe Bucky was anyone other than his soulmate. Steve had felt, something, when they'd locked eyes. He couldn't explain why Bucky's eyes matched though, couldn't explain how Bucky already had a soulmate when Steve knew that soulmate was him.

"Incredibly sir," Jarvis responded. Steve wondered if the voice in the room could read his thoughts, because he wasn't sure if he liked the idea of that.

"And, what about," Steve began, trailing off to gather his thoughts. "What about his soulmate? Are they smart too?" He wanted to know, but in the same thread, he didn't. He didn't want to know how Bucky's other soulmate, the one that changed his eyes, was better than Steve.

But he also couldn't stop his burning curiosity. "Dr. Barnes does not have a registered soulmate sir," Jarvis informed him, and Steve could have sworn the floor fell out beneath him. If Bucky had a soulmate, why wouldn't he be proud of that?

Steve had spent his entire life without a soulmate, dreaming of what it would be like if he did have one. He couldn't imagine having one and not wanting to let the world know how lucky he was, to have found his soulmate.

"Thank you Jarvis," Steve told the room, wandering further into the rooms. He wandered from the living room into the bedroom, spent longer than he'd ever admit gaping at the sheer size of the bed, before finding himself standing in front of the mirror in the oversized bathroom.

Steve stared at his right eye, memorising the lines in the new iris. He was captivated by the colour, catching the light and sparkling like the ice of a pond frozen in winter. Steve was enchanted with the flecks of darker blue, the way the same blue ringed the edges, so close in blue to Steve's own.

It was mesmerising. Steve could have stayed there like this, for hours, just staring into the eye that belonged to his soulmate. The soulmate he'd long since thought dead, but must have instead been too far removed from Steve's time for the Universe to consider them actual soulmates.

Steve smiled to his reflection. He could swear he was looking at Bucky's eye in his own face, swear it until he was as blue as his Captain America uniform. "Jarvis," Steve said out loud, stepping into what seemed to be his closet, filled with various clothes. They seemed roughly his size, so he pulled a plain button down over the shirt he was already wearing. "Where can I find Dr. Barnes? I'd like to speak more with him."

"Dr. Barnes is usually in his lab sir, on floor sixty-eight," Jarvis responded, and Steve smoothed his hair down. He was about to head for the elevator when the room stopped him. "Captain Rogers, Dr. Barnes prefers not to be disturbed while he is working. Perhaps you could visit another time."

Steve wanted to protest, to tell the room that he was sure Bucky was his soulmate, and he just wanted to prove it. But he could admit, there was some logic in waiting until later. "Maybe you could point me in the direction of the gym?" Steve stripped off the button down, hung it back in the closet, and started out of the room, following Jarvis' directions to the gym.

He'd work out for a bit, then maybe it would be a good time to go see Bucky. Steve wanted answers about the soulmate thing, whether he was going to like those answers or not.

Bucky figured it was late when there was a knock on his lab door, and Jarvis informing him that it was Sam with more coffee. Bucky had been working a while, eventually steering himself away from his actual work and finding himself knee deep in research on Captain America.

"Come on in Sam!" Bucky shouted, staring at the pile of printouts he had, mostly pictures, of Steve during the war. "Look, Sam, look at this, look!" Bucky got to his feet, shoving a picture of Steve Rogers, in his Captain America uniform without the helmet.

"Bucky, jesus, have you been here all night? You look like hell man," Sam said, completely ignoring the photo Bucky was trying to show him. Bucky shrugged, taking the coffee from Sam before he could change his mind. Bucky drained the cup quickly, tossing the empty container in the trash.

"If it's been all night since you brought coffee last, then yes, yes I have," Bucky said, shoving the picture into Sam's chest. "But look at that Wilson. Look at the damn picture."

Sam glared, but obliged. The man did a double take, staring from the smiling face of Steve Rogers to Bucky's face. "He's got a soul eye like yours," Sam said, glancing from the picture to Bucky again. It was one of the only pictures Bucky had found in colour. The colour was clearly faded, but there was no mistaking that the colour that was absent from Steve Rogers' soul eye was not due to the age of the photograph.

"But, but Sam, when we saw him earlier, well, yesterday apparently," Bucky was continuing, grabbing a few more pictures to show Sam. These weren't in colour, but there was still an evident lifeless quality in Steve's soul eye that it was unmistakable. "Yesterday, yesterday Sam, he didn't have a soul eye like mine. Yesterday, his soul eye was a pale blue. That means, that means his soulmate wasn't dead when he was born, but probably so far off being born, maybe with a few variables that could have negated the birth all together, that they resonated not as inevitable, but as variable. The Universe tends to deal in finites. Steve even having a chance to meet his soulmate would have been in question too, after all, I mean, he's in his nineties yearwise, right, so he could have very easily passed away from age if he'd been–"

"Jesus Bucky, slow down," Sam interrupted, putting his hands on Bucky's shoulders to guide him to a chair. "Last time you got like this, man, you just about had a meltdown in the middle of the street. And you're close to that alright? You can't quantify soulmates, nobody ever has before, and they certainly aren't doing it by looking at pictures and articles relating to Captain America from the 1940s."

"But–"

"No buts," Sam interrupted again, keeping Bucky in the chair. "Now, I'm calling Mister Stark. I'm going to ask him if you can borrow one of the rooms upstairs. Barnes, you need a shower, a shave, and a nap. And I gotta, I'll stand outside the door until I hear you snoring."

"I don't snore," Bucky pointed out, but he wasn't really fighting. Now that he was sitting, and not pacing and squatting on the floor, he felt the exhaustion creep through his limbs.

"Not the point," Sam said, hauling Bucky to his feet. "Jarvis, can you ask about the room for Barnes? He's working himself into a state of exhaustion again, and I know that nobody wants a repeat of the Christmas party last year."

"Mister Stark has permitted the use of a room on floor eighty-four, his biometrics have been allowed to enter that floor," Jarvis informed them as they reached the elevator.

With a little prodding from Sam, Bucky put his palm on the elevator's biometric reader, staggering slightly as he was dragged onto the elevator. "Dammit Barnes, when was the last time you actually had a good night's sleep?"

"Let's see, Monday, I passed out on the couch at like six, and slept for twelve hours," Bucky said, slight slur in his voice. "But can't remember if there's been since then."

"Jesus Christ Bucky, it's Friday," Sam scolded, he sounded upset with him. He probably was. It wasn't Bucky's fault he didn't get to sleep very often. His brain just, didn't stop. His thoughts kept whirling around in his mind at all hours of the day until the exhaustion won out and Bucky dropped.

"Sorry," Bucky just mumbled, and let Sam drag him into the room. "I can manage the bathroom myself Sammy. Let's not make this weird." Bucky headed into the bathroom, shut the door behind him and sighed.

Bucky was so tired, but his mind was already spinning again. If Steve had developed a soul eye ninety something years since his birth, and that eye colour was so reminiscent of Bucky's own, maybe, just maybe.

Shower first, after that he could check beneath the contact. Sam was right in saying that he needed one. Bucky looked exhausted, and he wasn't always the most objective judge with the way he looked. And a shave, he needed to do that too. He looked five minutes away from being homeless, and he wanted to at least decent, in case he saw Steve or something.

After showering, shaving, and otherwise pushing the long strands of hair from his face, keeping them from drying in his face. Then Bucky leaned in to the mirror, stared for a moment at the false blue of his contact. He steeled himself, carefully removing the lense from his eye and closing both eyes tightly for a moment.

"Come on Barnes," he told himself under his breath. "If it's white, it's white, and nothing's changed. Just open your damn eyes." And Bucky did, opened his eyes, expecting to see the dead white shining back at him.

Instead, however, he saw a beautiful shade of blue, interspersed with a blue-green ring around the pupil. "Holy shit!" Bucky shouted, throwing the bathroom door open, startling Sam, likely trying to make sure Bucky took a nap. Like he would be napping at a time like this. "Sam Wilson, look at this, fucking look at this!"

"Holy shit man," Sam breathed, looking at Bucky's soul eye. His very much not-white soul eye. "You, you think your soulmate is Captain America, don't you." It's not a question, and Bucky didn't need it to be. He was practically vibrating. He had a goddamn soulmate, and for the first time really in his life, he was really, really glad for that.

"One way to find out," Bucky informed him, running out of the room before Sam could stop him. "Jarvis, where's Steve?" Sam was behind him, but didn't seem to be trying to stop him. Not that he could. Bucky was a man on a mission.

"Captain Rogers is in the gym the floor below you," Jarvis responded, and Bucky was running again. He skidded into the elevator with Sam on his heels.

"Sam, if this, if he is, you might not want to stay for that," Bucky warned. He couldn't promise that he wouldn't get a little handsy. It had been a long time for him, okay? Besides, Steve was gorgeous, strong, and very well could be Bucky's soulmate.

"Yeah, I won't lie man, if you start making out with Captain America, I'm out," Sam assured him, as the elevator doors slid open. Bucky hadn't spent much time in the luxury apartments of Stark Tower. Mostly, just on the rare occasion he stayed working when he should have gone home to crash, and Sam insisted he sleep immediately lest there be repeats of past incidents where he did not.

As such, the halls were unfamiliar to him, but with a quick instruction from Jarvis, Bucky was walking as calmly as he could towards the gym. "Fuck, my hair, how's my hair?" Bucky asked, just outside the door. He turned to Sam, and he knew his expression was panicked and nervous.

"It's wet man, and he's in the gym, match made in something," Sam told him, and practically pushed Bucky into the gym.

He drew up short, just staring as Steve boxed with a punching bag, hitting the bag repeatedly until the chain snapped and the bag crashed into the wall behind him. "Holy shit," Bucky couldn't stop himself from saying. Steve turned quickly, facing Bucky as a smile crossed his features.

"Bucky," Steve said, same almost reverent tone that he'd had earlier, and wow. He should not look that happy to see Bucky. Unless, maybe somehow Steve already knew they were soulmates. "Hi. I was actually going to see if you wanted to get coffee with me."

"Ah, no, no more coffee, at least until I sleep," Bucky admitted, he wanted to move closer, see if he could truly recognise his own eye, but he was rooted to the spot. Nerves spiking through him.

"Maybe later then?" Steve asked, voice so hopefully Bucky had to nod. "I, sorry if this is really personal, but your soulmate, no one seems to know who they are. I just, if I had a soulmate, I'd want everyone to know."

Bucky swallowed, biting at his lower lip nervously. "I don't, didn't have one, for the first twenty-six years of my life," he admitted. "My soul eye was dead, and I, I got sick of people staring, so I started wearing a colour contact that looked like mine. Better people think I have a soulmate somewhere than the kid who was never going to meet their soulmate."

Steve smiled in understanding, and yeah, of course he understood. Steve had possessed the same kind of scrutiny due to his soul eye. "I had the same thing actually," the blond admitted, taking steps towards Bucky that Bucky's body still refused to mirror. "I didn't notice until I woke up here that my eye had changed. And I, I can't shake the feeling that it's your eye that I have."

Bucky finally moved, his feet taking him closer to Steve. And he leaned up slightly, pressing his lips to Steve's. The moment their lips touched, it was perfect. Bucky felt his toes curl, his knees went weak, and sparks danced between the two of them. Pulling back, Bucky blinked, watching the pale iris of Steve's soul eye bleed into a dark blue, the very eye Bucky had seen in the mirror.

"I knew it," Steve whispered, smiling at Bucky with adoration. "I've waited so long to meet you."

Bucky smiled, glancing back quickly to see Sam walking away. He pressed back in, kissing Steve slowly. He threaded his fingers into the blond tresses, tugging slightly. Steve's soft groan made Bucky pull back with a smirk. "Come on Stevie, I haven't slept in four days, and I really, really need to sleep."

Steve nodded, taking Bucky's hand in his. "I can't believe I have a soulmate," the blond murmured, bringing their hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of Bucky's hand. "I can't believe my soulmate is as smart and beautiful as you."

"I'm too tired for the sappiness Stevie," Bucky said, suppressing a yawn. "Can you be sappy after I've had a nap?"

"Of course, so sorry," Steve replied, his cheeks turning a soft pink. "Come here." And then Steve was lifting Bucky into his arms. "I've got you."

Bucky wrapped his arm around Steve's neck, head dropping to rest against Steve's shoulder.

Bucky was asleep before Steve even settled him in a bed.

Steve laid Bucky down on the bed he supposed was technically his, even if he'd only had it one night. It was large and soft, and the sheets were beyond soft. Steve was used to the scratchy sheets he'd grown up with, almost the same kind he'd had in the army.

Bucky just made a soft noise before pushing his face into Steve's pillow. He couldn't help but stay there a moment longer than he'd intended, running his fingers through Bucky's slightly damp hair.

The brunette strands were longer than Steve had seen on a man before, but the length suited Bucky so well, he couldn't help but be fond of it. Steve pushed some of that hair behind the other man's ear before leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.

"Sleep well Buck," Steve whispered before forcing himself to leave the room. It was creepy, watching Bucky sleep. They might be soulmates, but they still had so much to learn about each other. His ma always told him that the Universe picked a soulmate because they were the perfect match for you, but like any jigsaw puzzle, the pieces might have to be turned until you find how they fit.

Steve was fairly certain she'd told him that so he didn't give up hope that he might find someone, despite not having a soulmate, but there still truth to it. Steve had been asleep for a long time, a lot in the world had changed.

He had a lot to learn, both with the way things were now, and what it was like to have a soulmate. He wished his ma could have met Bucky. She probably would have liked him.

Steve settled on the plush sofa, grabbing the newspaper he'd convinced one of the SHIELD agents to get for him. Apparently most people got their news from the TV or on the Internet, which took Steve a while to get. Jarvis had to explain it about five different ways for Steve to get an idea of what it was, but he was pretty sure he understood. Didn't mean he wanted his newspaper to be on a screen, when he could still hold a newspaper.

He figured he'd be waiting until tomorrow to talk to Bucky more, so Steve settled in. He didn't want to leave his soulmate alone, not now that he'd found him. So Steve would stay here, settled on the sofa, reading his paper, and maybe seeing about watching one of those TV shows he was told he should watch.

Steve was not expecting to see Bucky standing in the doorway only two hours later, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Bucky," he murmured, as his soulmate dropped to the sofa next to him, curling into Steve's side. "I didn't think you'd be awake now, I thought you'd sleep all night."

"Don't usually," Bucky muttered, stifling a yawn. The brunette shifted again, dropping his head onto Steve's shoulder. Steve wrapped his hand around Bucky's legs, slinging them across his lap. Bucky's quiet hum of contentment compelled Steve to press a kiss to the other man's forehead. "Can't stop thinking, thinking about everything, thinking about you, thinking about how my soulmate is actually Captain America."

He still sounded exhausted, so Steve did what his ma used to do for him when he couldn't sleep. Steve ran his fingers through Bucky's hair, playing with the soft, brown locks. His hair was dry now, sticking up a bit where the pillow had messed it up. But it was cute.

"You can go back to sleep Buck, I'm not going anywhere," Steve assured him, shivering slightly as Bucky's warm breath tickled his neck. "I waited almost a hundred years for you, you're going to have a hard time getting rid of me now."

"Good," Bucky mumbled, nuzzling at Steve's shoulder. "Don't wanna lose my soulmate." Steve went to answer, but a quick glance down at Bucky, his face already softened in sleep, just made Steve smile. He pressed another kiss to Bucky's forehead.

Steve may have been in a different time, trapped in the future, but he was certain, he'd finally found his home.