Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Bucky, we  gotta  get going!" Steve yelled into the old but new house that his friend had bought himself a couple weeks back. After being freed from Hydra's grasp, the long haired man had bought a house as far away from civilization as he could get. He found that a secluded cottage in New Hampshire was good enough.  

James Buchanan Barnes finished packing up his suitcase for the short weekend. He looked outside his bedroom window, not particularly fond of the clouds passing overhead. It was cold and his metal arm was colder. "Steve, I think there's a storm  comin '." He called back, grabbing the rolling bag and bringing it down the stairs. "I don't think it's safe."  

They were driving from  Ossipee , New Hampshire to New York City for some final meetings about Bucky's previous involvements with Hydra. He didn't want to go for the life of him, but Steve had talked him into it. It was reassuring to know that he'd be there with him just in case anything went wrong. He had a way with having that happen.  

"C'mon, Buck. It'll be fine. It's a five hour ride and I'm sure we'll make it out before the snow gets bad." He promised his friend, clapping a hand on his back as he walked past him. "We'll be okay."  

They locked the doors and headed out to the car that Steve had rented for the trip. Bucky felt bad for putting him through so much trouble, but he was enormously grateful. The blond man threw the other's bag into the trunk before getting into the driver's seat. Bucky got into the passenger's side, taking his  walkman  that Steve had been lending him out of his pocket.  

"Five hours. Well, good thing you gave me a couple tapes..." He mumbled, still not entirely sure how to work it as he put on his headphones.  

"Oh, come on, Buck. You're not  gonna  listen to your music the whole way, are you? I know you're fond of the Beastie Boys but I want to talk to you, bud." He said as he backed out of the driveway before smiling at his friend.  

Bucky grumbled something about how he could if he wanted to. "Fine, fine." He said eventually with a sigh, taking off the headphones and putting them by his feet. He buckled in and sat back in his chair, staring out the window.   

The snow was piled up a foot and a quarter, but was completely off the roads. It wouldn't melt for a while, though. It reminded Bucky of Brooklyn when he was a kid. Although, now with global warming and over population in New York, the land there was rarely covered in even a few inches.  

Steve started talking about a couple new movies and shows he had started watching, sounding like an expert on M*A*S*H and I Love Lucy. He could go on for hours about all of the catching up he had done on media. And they had five whole hours for him to do just that.  

Bucky occasionally added a few pieces of information to what Steve was talking about, but he wasn't paying much attention. Before, spacing out during a lengthy conversation was what he was best at, and this was no different. He stared out of the window with a blank look on his face as the snow started to fall.  

It was so cold in the building. The metal bed he was laying on wasn't helping. He was shivering. Was that shivering? It seemed more like convulsing. He opened up his eyes, a mask over his nose and mouth. A man was hovering over him with a large tool in his hand.   

He found that there wasn't enough power in his muscles to sit up, but he could lift his head. He tried to wiggle his fingers, but he couldn’t see his arm. He knew where his arm was supposed to be. Where was it? Where was his arm? He felt a needle penetrate his right bicep and his eyes started to droop again until he was unconscious.  

"Buck? Hey, Bucky?"  

A voice interrupted the fragmented memory. He sat up and shook his head a bit before clearing his throat. "Yeah?" He asked, turning to Steve.  

Steve sighed as he realized that he was having a flashback. He patted his half metal, half flesh shoulder before putting his hand back on the steering wheel. "You okay?" He asked, glancing over again.  

Bucky nodded before letting out a long breath. "Yeah, I am. I think I am." He said, nodding once more.  

Steve looked over at him worriedly before he went on with what he was saying. "I was just wondering if you have seen Jaws yet. Clint keeps raving about it, but it seems pretty boring."  

Bucky ran his metal fingers through his hair to get it out of his face, bringing his knees to his chest and putting his feet on the dashboard. "No, no I haven't." He answered quietly.  

"Well, maybe we can watch it once we get to the hotel. We'll have time before we  gotta  sleep. I have my alarm set for six in the morning tomorrow. We've got to get up early to get ready and eat breakfast before going to the meetings."  

He sighed at the mention of the meetings. He was dreading them. Something about Nick Fury really put him off. He stared at him like he had tried to kill him or something. Maybe he had. He hated to think about what he did. He couldn't remember any specific missions or exercises that they made him go through. All he knew is that he had a target to assassinate and to report back once the job was done.  

Steve saw the look of anxiety on Bucky's face. "Hey, it'll be fine. They're not  gonna  hurt you. They're the good guys." He promised, glancing over at him a few times. That wasn't entirely true since what happened with SHIELD, but there was no reason to worry his friend more.  

"Yeah, yeah..." Bucky replied, turning to look out the window again as Steve started talking about some Beatle band. Soon, he was slumped with his forehead against the window, light snoring coming from his sleeping figure.

Steve cursed as they started to slow, checking a few different lit up dials before pounding on the steering wheel. "Oh, damn." He practically growled under his breath as he pulled over on the side, looking over the snow covered highway. "Um, Buck? We've got a problem..." He said, pulling a folded up map out of the glove compartment.  

Bucky's metal arm was wrapped around his legs as he slept, his eyes slowly opening as he heard Steve's worried voice. " Wha ' is it?" He mumbled, his good hand wiping at his eyes. He sat up when he saw the snow, looking around. "What did I tell you, Steve!" He said in a panic, putting his feet on the floor of the car and looking around. His face twisted from panic to something unexpected. A large smile pulled across his face as he started chuckling.  

"This isn't funny!" Steve protested, finding where they were. "Ugh. Massachusetts. We're not even to Connecticut!" He groaned, folding the map back up.  

Bucky shook his head, his smile still plastered on his face, and opened up his door before stepping out. He was glad he wore his boots. "What's wrong with it?" He asked, kicking one of the tires.  

"I don't know. I don't think it's fuel..." He mumbled, stepping out of the car as well. He popped open the hood, smoke pouring out of it. He coughed and waved it away with his hand.  

Bucky lumbered to the front of the car with him, shaking his head as he watched the smoke cut its way through the falling snow. "Stevie, what am I going to do with you..." He said with a small laugh.  

"Not funny." He said again, looking around the empty highway. "I'll have to call someone..." He said, getting out his flip phone.  

The brunet kicked around in the fluff on the ground, picking up some of the fallen snow before compacting it and throwing it at Steve. "It's pretty funny. How old is this car?" He asked, kicking the wheel again as he stood there. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shaking the snow out of his hair.  

"I  dunno . I bought it only a year ago... But the person I got it from had it for a while..." He sighed, running his hand over his face when   Natasha didn't answer. He tried calling Tony after that, feeling stupid for not getting it inspected.  

"You can be so naïve, Steve. Dear lord." He smirked, making a few more snowballs. "Now get someone to come get us so we can have a snowball fight." He said, throwing another at him.  

Steve rolled his eyes when the snowball hit his arm, shrugging it off. "Yeah? Hi, Tony. It's me... Yes, I know... I know... Yes. I know." He said into the phone, leaning against his car. "We got stuck... Car  broke... Yeah, I know. Tony, I know." He said, sounding more and more frustrated which only made Bucky laugh more and more.  

"Stop laughing! It's not funny!" He said, covering the receiver as he turned his head to find Bucky bursting out laughing. "Just pick us up for God's sake... Thank you." He spoke back into the phone, punctuating the end of the call by flipping the phone shut angrily.  

"Oh, c'mon, Buck!  It'll be fine. It's a five hour ride and I'm sure we'll make it out before the snow gets bad." He said, mocking Steve's voice. He noticed just how frustrated the other was by his posture and tensed jaw. "Aw, It'll be okay." He said, pushing him a bit. "Lighten up. You're always Captain Smiles."  

Steve smiled despite himself as he mocked him, sighing over dramatically. "Well..." He started, picking up some snow and balling it up. "I guess I can lighten up." He said, hitting him with the snowball.  

Bucky laughed as the snowball hit him, running to the other side of the smoking car. He packed a few more before starting to throw them across the barrier at Steve. The other did the same, laughing as he did.  

It reminded Steve of when they were little. Snow covered the baseball park that they would play ball in during the summer. Even if Bucky was a year or two older than Steve, he'd always invite him to play with his sixth grader friends. Bucky would find an old trash can lid for the other to use as a shield from the snowballs the other kids would hurl at him. Steve wasn't too good throwing them but he tried. Bucky never wanted him to get hurt. The other was a fragile child and the older kid made sure that he stayed in one piece.  

The two went at this for a while, the occasional utility truck passing by in the deep snow. It was up to their mid calves at that point and they were crazy for being out there in the storm, but neither of them cared. Bucky hadn't felt this carefree since before the war had started.  

Eventually, they were both tuckered out. They breathed heavily from laughing and dodging. Bucky slumped against the car, trying to catch his breath. "Is Tony even coming?" He asked with a tired smile, watching as the other sauntered through the snow.  

The blond walked to stand next to him, crossing his arms across his chest. "God, I hope so." He sighed and watched his breath as it dissipated.  

Bucky nodded and kicked a bit at the snow to find the ground below. "I'm getting' cold..." He grumbled, cursing Stark under his breath.  

Steve raised an eyebrow at that. "Oh? You should have said so! Let's get in the car. I don't have any blankets but it might be a bit warmer." He said, starting to brush all of the snow off of himself.  

The other nodded and did the same, his hair drenched from the melted snow. He opened up the backseat door and climbed in, glad that it was still at least a bit warmer than outside. Steve got in  behind him and shut it behind him, checking his phone for any word from Tony. He looked up when he noticed his friend shivering.  

"Aw, Buck." He smiled, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. He patted his arm, hugging him close. "Your metal arm must be pretty cold under that jacket, huh?" He asked, looking down at his arm.  

Bucky nodded and pulled up his sleeve, revealing his metal hand and wrist before touching it. He hissed and pushed the sleeve back down. "That's the only downside to living up north. This damn thing is always freezing." He grumbled while his teeth chattered.  

Steve nodded and rubbed his right arm, trying to get the other man to warm up. He wasn't too cold himself, but he was pretty wet from the melted snow.  

Bucky stayed quiet as he leaned into Steve, not exactly glad that they were caught in a snow storm, but it was nice being alone with the other. They saw so little of each other ever since he moved. He missed his best friend. It was lonely in New Hampshire, but it was better than being in the big city nowadays.  

What he missed the most was New York before the war. He missed his life before the war. He went to bars, got around, and hung out with his best friend. He only got flashes of memories from before, but he'd pieced them together with stories that Steve had told him. He always enjoyed the tales that the blond haired man told him from when they were younger. It seemed like he was listening to a story about Steve and someone else, but they never failed to make him smile. He just wished he could remember for himself.  

"Tell me one of them stories, Stevie," Bucky whispered, not lifting his head from where he was staring out the front window.  

Steve raised an eyebrow but started a story without hesitation. "One time, when I was about fourteen so you had to be at most sixteen... Yeah, that sounds about right. It was just around this time. Christmas was approaching and all of the stores were putting out their decorations. We never bought each other anything, mostly because we never could. 'Friendship is gift enough' is what your mother always said. But you had saved up a whole bunch of money. Probably to spend on some girl. Seven weeks worth of selling papers, not including the money that you gave to your mom from the chores you did around your building. I had been talking about getting a really neat sketchbook that came with these charcoal pieces, but it wasn't something that my mom was able to get for me in time for Christmas. Just socks and some pencils. So you bought me it. It was probably the best Christmas gift anyone had ever gotten me... Has gotten me." Steve smiled, recalling the memory quite fondly.  

James listened carefully as the other spoke, his words capturing him in the story. He reminded himself that Steve was talking about him, which made the story even more special. He didn't know what to say, considering that he couldn't remember anything about what he had said.  

Both of the men looked up when they heard a truck coming by. Steve leaned to look out the window, shaking his head. "That man will be the death of me." He mumbled, watching as a large, black truck rolled up with STARK in large white letters painted on the side.  

Bucky opened up the door and stepped out, not noticing that he had started shivering again. Steve's warm story had caused him to forget of the cold. Or maybe it was the heat the super soldier was giving off.  

"C'mon, grandpas. Let's get you some warm blankets and some hot cocoa." Tony called out to them, stepping out of the drivers seat with a large parka on.  

"That does sound nice," Steve bargained as he looked at his friend. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself, shrugging to Bucky, before he grabbed their overnight bags from the broken car.  

 The dark haired man just shrugged back, grabbing his  walkman  from the front seat of the broken car before getting into the back seat of the truck. He took off his wet jacket and soaked through shirt, grabbing one of the blankets and wrapping it around himself. He passed one up to Steve as he got in, trying not to watch as he did the same by taking off his coat and shirt.  

Tony climbed back in and started driving, turning on the radio. "Sorry I'm late. I was working on Mark 68." He said, looking over at Steve as he scoffed.  

"Your Mark 68 was more important than me freezing? Again, may I add?" He chuckled, turning in his chair to flash Bucky a smile.  

James rolled his eyes at the terrible joke and just stared out the window as it snowed, tapping his foot quickly as his nerves crept up on him. He was nervous to meet Fury in New York after everything that had happened. He just wanted to get off the radar and stay there.  

Tony made small talk with Steve as they drove the barren highway that was starting to pile up with even more snow. It was good that the large truck was designed for almost every condition.  

Steve turned around occasionally to check on Bucky, smiling as he saw the other slumped over against the window, tightly wound in his blanket.

As the rumbling of the large truck came to a stop, Bucky was stirred from his sleep. He sat up slowly, releasing his legs from the blanket and  letting them thud   onto the floor. He wiped some of the  drool  off of his face , running a hand through his hair. "Are we here?" He mumbled, looking into the front seat where Steve and Tony sat.  

"Not yet. I can't exactly take this on the roads in Manhattan. There's a cab waiting for you guys, though," Tony said as he put the truck into park. "Now, get out of my car." He said, unlocking the doors.  

Steve rolled his eyes and opened his door before jumping out. He kept the blanket  wrapped around his shoulder  as he trudged his way through the snow and into the taxi that was idling on the road. Bucky followed his lead, his blanket still wrapped tightly around his  body.  

They both slid into the backseat before Steve told the driver the address of the hotel they were staying at. Tony threw their bags into the back of the taxi before  he drove  away to god knows where.  

The two men sat in silence in the car, letting the cab driver  bring  them through the big city. None of it was familiar to Bucky. All of the neon signs that exclaimed OPEN and the  huge  modern buildings made him feel out of place. He felt so tiny in such a big world. Before, he felt like the king of New York. Now, he was just another civilian.  

But, some things did seem familiar. The road they were on made Bucky uneasy. He felt like he should be remembered something.  Something . He closed his eyes and tried to recall it. Maybe it was one of those happy memories that Steve always told him about. Maybe he was finally remembering.  

...It was dark. It was cold. But that didn't faze the soldier. He didn't know who or where he was, but he knew he had a mission. He had been briefed. The soldier knew what he was doing. He had been training for this. The outfits people were wearing made him feel out of place, but no one looked at him like he was out of the ordinary. He walked into the tall building where people were carrying around bags. He had a bag of his own, too. But something told the soldier that the other people there weren't there for the reason he was. He made his way to the 20th floor. He walked down the hallway, the quiet murmur of people in their rooms. The solider unlocked the door with the key in the envelope he was given and slid into the room  stealthily .  The sound of a shower runnin g  was muffled by the closed bathroom door . He unbuckled the suitcase he was given and pulled out the  knife . He slid into the bathroom and  whipped   open  the curtain...  

Steve nudged the other when they arrived, bringing his friend out of his daze. Bucky jumped a bit as he was nudged, his eyes wide open.  He recoiled from the touch, a bit of fear showing in his eyes against his hard expression. He immediately assumed he was going to get wiped again for remembering.  

"Buck, it's just me. We're at the hotel." He said softly, his hand lightly touching his upper arm as not to startle him.  

Bucky nodded curtly, biting his lip tightly as he slid out of the car and away from Steve's touch. He grabbed his overnight bag  from the trunk  and walked into the hotel and out of the snow, keeping his eyes down as his heart raced.  

Steve quickly paid the cab driver before throwing his own bag over his shoulder and  jogging  after Bucky. He spotted the man standing silently in the corner  of the lobby , his eyes glued to his shoes. He checked in with the front desk, sighing at the fact that their room wasn't ready. He needed to get Bucky to someplace where he felt safe. He joined by his side, not sure whether or not to try and comfort him.  

Bucky's eyes searched the floor, but no answers were found. The guilt was eating at him as he tightened his arms around his chest. He didn't want to think about it but that's all that was  filling his mind. He jolted as  he saw Steve next to him.  The taste of blood filled his mouth, finding that he was biting his lip too hard .  

He hated seeing his friend like this. He wrapped an arm around him slowly, trying to make sure it was okay. He let out a small sigh of relief as the other leaned into him lightly. It was better than nothing.  He whispered quiet, comforting sentences to him as they stood there, trying not to mind those who were staring.

The dark haired man barely noticed how much time had passed, but suddenly he was being shook softly by Steve. "Our room's ready." He said quietly to him. "Do you want to head up?"  

Bucky lifted his head and nodded, taking a deep breath and holding it. He grabbed his bag and walked to the elevators, letting Steve trail behind him. They  waited for the elevato r  to arrive before stepping in. Bucky silently  watch ed  as the doors closed.  

It was silent for a few seconds before Bucky spoke up. "What floor  are we on ?" He whispered, looking down at the floor once more.  

Steve looked at the button he had pressed before back to Bucky. "21st floor." He answered, both of their bags in his hands.  

Bucky nodded silently, wringing his hands. He swayed slightly, getting dizzy from the painful guilt. He stepped out of the elevator and let Steve lead the way to their room. Bucky had to stop once and regain his bearings. Everything was too familiar.  

Steve opened up the door with his key card and let his friend go in first before following. He locked the door behind them before walking to the main part of the bedroom. "Oh..." He mumbled, spotting the single bed.  

Bucky was staring down at the bed before sighing. "I can take the floor." He muttered. He was used to the floor. His bed at the cottage was much too comfy. He had to stay on the floor most of the time anyway.  

Steve shook his head and put the bags on the dresser. "It's fine, Buck. I can take the floor." He said with a nod. It was  already pitch black outside . Steve glanced at the clock and twisted his lips to the side. "How about we start getting ready for bed?" He asked, looking at Bucky.  

Steve was just about to add a "We don't have to"  when he saw the distant look on the other's face, but that was   before James spoke up first. "I've killed a man here." He blurted out, lifting his head to meet Steve's eyes.  

Steve was stunned by the redness of the other's eyes and the confusion that painted his face. "Buck..." He whispered, taking a step closer.  

The other stepped back, feeling a sense of claustrophobia. "I'm going to get ready for bed." He  decided , stepping past him and quickly  escaping  into the bathroom.  

The blonde haired man sighed heavily as  he heard the sound of the door locking , sitting down on the bed and letting the overnight bags drop to the floor. He held his head in his hands, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do.  

Bucky splashed water on his face and stared into the mirror, the image that was reflecting back slowly  becoming  more and more foreign to him. His hands held onto the sink as to balance himself as he got closer to the mirror, his grip tightening as the memory continued to flash in his mind. He closed his eyes tightly and gripped harder, only stopping when he heard an audible crack from the porcelain his left  hand had been grasping. He cursed and let go, reminded of just how much they had changed him. He took a step back before sitting down and wrapping his arms tight around his legs as he hid his face in them.  

Steve got into his pajamas and took a pillow and a sheet  from the bed   before  setting them on the floor . He checked the time, noting how long Bucky had been in the bathroom. He knocked on the door tentatively before speaking quietly. "Buck?"  

Bucky raised his head, wiping the tears away from his face quickly as he stood. He shied away from the mirror before opening the door. "Yeah?" He asked quietly, only a sliver of his body shown through the crack.  

"It's almost eleven. I'm getting ready for bed. We have to be up at six tomorrow."  

"Yeah, I know." He answered bluntly, keeping the door only slightly ajar.  

Steve sighed and looked away. "Alright, well... Night. Just make sure you get some sleep." He mumbled before moving back to his spot on the floor to lay down.  

James watched as he disappeared from his minimal view before he closed the door and waited a while longer. He didn't want Steve seeing him like this. He was afraid. Afraid of what, h owever,  h e wasn't sure. The memory, maybe. What Steve would say if he saw him like this. What Steve would say if he knew  what he had done . But mostly, he was afraid of himself.  

He stepped out of the bathroom when he started hearing snoring coming from the  main room . He quietly moved throughout to get on his pajamas before slipping into bed. He tossed and turned for an hour, finally giving up when he spotted a bright red 1:30 on the clock. He groaned into the pillow, finding that he just wasn't comfortable.  

Bucky slid out of the bed, grabbing his pillow and comforter. He laid them down next to Steve before he actually got under the blanket. Staring up at the ceiling, he interlocked his hands on his chest while tracing the metal paneling of his fingers  as thoughts swam through his mind . He eventually fell asleep like this, on the hard floor,  as per  normal.

He got up after a few more minutes of reminiscing before going into the bathroom to shower. He noticed bits of crushed porcelain underneath the sink, wondering how that came about. He jumped into the shower and washed himself quickly. He knew that the other didn't shower the night before, so he rushed just in case he wanted to today.  

Bucky stirred at the sound of the shower running. His eyes blinked open slowly  as the alarm on the night stand went off. He wiped the sleep from his eyes before dragging himself off t he floor to turn off the buzzing. Stretching and cracking his neck, he sauntered over to his bag to pull out the clothes for that day.  They weren’t what he normally would lounge around in back at his house, but they weren’t exactly fancy either. Anxiety filled him as he got dressed, from both the upcoming meetings and the  inevitability   of talking to Steve about the night before.    

Steve turned off the shower and dried off, wrapping the towel around his waist before leaving the  bathroom, meeting Bucky’s eyes as he walked in. “Morning,” he hummed, unzipping his overnight bag and pulling out his own clothing for the day.   

Bucky nodded back before busying himself with getting his toothbrush out of his bag.   

Steve laid out his clothes on the bed in front of him before looking back up at he other. “Bed too soft?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.   

Bucky shrugged, stepping past him to the bathroom . “Yeah, couldn’t fall asleep.” He wasn't in the mood to talk, but he knew he had to. He didn't want to offend the other.  

Steve wasn’t sure whether he slept on the floor for the physical comfort or the mental comfort.  

The dark haired man  closed the door behind him as he stepped into the steamy bathroom to brush his teeth quickly. He wiped the fog off of the mirror before stari ng at himself once more, taking a deep breath and holding it for a few moments. “This is who you are now.  You are James Buchanan Barnes, goddammit,”  he breathed before letting his head fall. He had so many doubts about his life and who he was supposed to be. It was hard to remember from time to time.  

He exited the bathroom , sidestepping Steve as he finished buttoning up his shirt. Bucky laced up his shoes and shrugged on a jacket. “Ready.”  

Steve grabbed his wallet and a coat, throwing a scarf around his neck. "As am I," he said with a smile as he finished putting on his shoes. He walked out with the other, making sure he had the room key. Steve tried not to noticed the tension in the other's movements as they got into the elevator together. After a few moments of silence, Steve spoke up.  "We're going to get breakfast first, if that's okay."  

Bucky nodded silently, keeping his eyes cast down upon the floor. His arms were crossed tightly across him as he tried to think of anything but where he was. He wasn't hungry. He was sick to his stomach. However, he knew if he didn't eat, Steve would get worried. He hated worrying the other. He couldn’t remember it himself, but Steve had mentioned before that it used to be the other way around. That Bucky was the one worrying about the other. He couldn't even imagine that, but from the pictures of the scrawny boy he had seen, it didn't seem too far fetched.  

Steve led them out of the elevator and onto t he street. He was close to Bucky's side at all times, not wanting to lose him in the bustle of people on the sidewalk. He brought him to a tiny café off one of the side roads that he went to occasionally, ordering breakfast for them quickly so that Bucky didn't have to speak . He knew that the other would be fine with what he was having so he ordered two. He sat them both down at a small table, checking his phone.  

Bucky just followed his friend around, keeping his eyes down and his voice silent. It was overwhelming to be in the city around so many people. He just did what Steve did, glad that the other didn't make him order for himself. He played with the napkin at his table setting as he sat down, not meeting the other's gaze. "I'm not hungry..." He mumbled quietly, having to repeat it again because of the loud television behind him.

Steve sighed, playing with his fork. "You have to eat something, yeah? It'll be a long day. I don't know when we'll be able to have lunch. Just try and eat a little bit, okay?" He said encouragingly, placing a hand on his wrist.  

The brunette looked down at his hand as it rested on his metal wrist, swallowing thickly before nodding. "Okay..." He mumbled out of guilt. He pulled his hand away slowly, feeling restrained by the pressure of his hand.

The other bit his cheeks as the sound of guilt filled his voice. He took his hand away as the other did, feeling terrible. "Sorry..." He responded, looking up at the television to try and pass the time.  

Bucky shrugged, picking small pieces off of his napkin until their food was brought. He quickly asked for coffee, hoping that might jump start him. He ate silently, only picking at his food. He tried to eat as much as he could without wanting to puke. He drank the delivered coffee black, feeling a bit more energized. "I can pay." He said as Steve started to get out his wallet. "It's the least I can do for all of this." He said, not just meaning the trip. He threw a couple bills onto the table before standing. There was a lot of food left on his plate, but he tried to ignore it.  

Steve got up with him and headed out once they had paid, hailing a taxi to bring them to the temporary SHIELD headquarters. It was a couple floors of a large building that was shared with a few other organizations like the Girl Scouts of America. After SHIELD was basically torn into scraps, Nick had to find some place for a base of operations and this was better than nothing.  

Bucky got out of the cab once they arrived and stared up at the menacing building. He took a deep breath and quickly grabbed onto Steve, feeling dizzy all of a sudden. He wanted to turn around and run, but he knew that Steve was faster.

Steve braced the other as he was held onto, not minding the hard grip the other didn't notice he had. He coaxed him towards the building, whispering reassuring things as they went.

Bucky willed himself through the revolving doors with Steve and into the building, standing quietly behind his friend as he told the receptionist where they were going. A man immediately appeared from a door behind the front desk, escorting them into the elevator up to the 17th floor.  

Bucky leaned against the wall as Steve cast a wary eye on him. They both tried not to notice the weapons that were decorating the man's belt. Fury was counting on having some sort of problem with Bucky, it seemed. Steve sincerely hoped they wouldn't have to use any of the items hanging off of the man's person. The guard  led them through a long hallway and into an office where Nick was sitting.  

"Good afternoon, gentlemen." He said, his voice filling the room as he stood  up from his desk before offering Bucky a hand to shake.