The Asset - Avengers (Moon Struck Fox & Defiant)

“that's no excuse.” he admitted with a shake of his head. “well. I can't change the past, not really. I wish I could. But things are turning out okay now right?” he asked, his head tilted. “things will be okay eventually. I have to believe that.” he admitted with a sigh, closing his eyes because he was tired of being the universes spittoon. This was, perhaps, his first chance at real happiness. He wasn't about to give it up anytime soon. Not at all. “actually. I got you onto that rail. It was my plan to zip-line onto the train.” he admitted with a smile. “it was fun.” he admitted before grimacing. “stop being right!” he complained, pouting at Bucky. “i hate it when you make me feel like everything wasn't my fault.” he grumped before smiling at Bucky. “your right though, I probably wouldn't have been able to save you.” he hated having to admit that, but there was no denying it. Had he fallen with Bucky, he'd probably have bee I rough shape and unable to do anything but get dragged off by Hydra and have the exact same thing done to him as they had done to Bucky.

He enjoyed the thought of taking Bucky out on the town for a while. Enjoyed the idea of going out and just being with Bucky. “like it?” he asked, not certain what Bucky was talking about at first before smiling. “i like holding your hand too.” he admitted, watching the thumb stroke across his knuckles. Steve had always been warm, even small and sickly he had been a little furnace. They had, more often than not, shared a bed just because it was warmer that way. They'd only had a few blankets, so sharing the blankets and curling up together had been a good thing to do. The fact that they often did... more, would remain unspoken for now. Steve didn't want to pressure or push Bucky into anything, especially when the man was so hurt.

“did you? I don't remember it. I hit my head pretty damn hard on the way down.” he admitted. “i was out for three days apparently, concussion or something. I woke up in the hospital.” he admitted. “no one had sen you since so I just thought that...” he shrugged. “in any case, it was probably better you ran, Shield wouldn't have been too happy with you either.” he admitted, scowling at nothing. “with Phil dead and Fury gone to god knows where, there aren't a whole lot of people willing to do the right thing. Shield has turned into a clusterfuck of epic proportions.” he admitted before smiling at him. “well. We'll just have to protect each other then.” he agreed.

He sulked though when Bucky said technology wasn't hard. “it is too! It's a menace! No one even looks at each other anymore they just sit there and tap on their phones and stuff, it's a mess!” he pointed out before blinking. “i don't mind. You where the only person I ever let call me Stevie you now.” he admitted before looking worried. “Bucky? Buck? Are you okay?” did he need to call Bruce?! What was hurting James? He paused at the, was it an accusation? No, it was a realization. “no, we weren't.” he agreed softly. “you can't remember me because Hydra used electricity to kill entire sections of your brain.” Steve explained. “you have enough of the Serum for the dead cells to come back online after time, which is why they had to keep doing it. It's not that you won't remember. It's not that your mentally blocking it. Parts of your brain is dead Buck. It just needs time to recover.” he promised. “and I won't leave you again, not ever. I swear. We'll work together, you and me, until our healed and then we'll work together to help with the trauma. I promise, okay?”
 
Bucky couldn't help the wince when Steve talked about the electricity. He despised everything about that chair. It hurt so much. He shook his head, frowning as he looked at Steve. He didn't want to think about the chair. The electricity and the pain it brought. The confusion and the emptiness. The shell it created. It was terrifying. Part of him wanted to know how many times he'd actually been sat in that chair. But then again, it was a part of his past he didn't want to face.

He returned to the chair, unsure of what to do now. Steve'd confirmed his last vision was real. Or at least the part of them being more than friends. Now some things about how Steve acted towards him were making sense. He didn't understand the concept of love. Not really. He knew it was a feeling, something you said to someone who you cared very deeply for but the actual notion of caring for someone so much you'd put yourself at risk to save them...

His eyes moved to Steve's and he reached up to touch his own lips, he could still feel Steve's against his from the memory. But also, he'd realized he'd done that. He'd put himself at risk for Steve. He'd risked a lot. Twice. The time he remembered him from the bridge and said it to Pierce, refused to give a mission brief because of the nameless man he'd remembered. But then the helicarrier. He could have completed his mission and gone back to Hydra. Mission complete meant he would be put back on ice but instead he'd let go of the metal and fallen into the water after Steve. He'd grabbed him and dragged him to shore. He'd put his own well-being on the line for the man and at the time he hadn't known why. But now he did. Even if he didn't know why or how... he loved Steve Rogers.

Bucky's eyes searched Steve's for a moment before he leaned forward and let his lips brush against Steve's. He had no idea how this was supposed to work but it felt right, their lips together. It just felt right and comfortable and like... home. Bucky brought his flesh hand to cup Steve's face as he let his lips press against Steve's rather than just brush against them.

Every action has a consequence, he didn't know where he knew that from but as he felt Steve begin to kiss him back it seemed to send an electrical impulse to his brain and memories flooded his brain. Intense, loving, dirty, happy, bittersweet, frustrating they hit him like wave and he inhaled sharply against Steve's mouth. His metal moving to grip at Steve's shirts as he pushed his mouth to Steve's again, this time the kiss was much less innocent, almost desperate as the memories came.

After he'd been rescued, Steve had managed to find them a tent and Bucky didn't have time to get a good look at Steve's new body as his body was groped and touched to check for an inch of a wound and then concerned fingers were replaced by lips and teeth.

The night before he left for war Steve had been excited, he could tell, but the excitement was short lived as Bucky'd already packed for the morning and he'd said good night to the girls, deciding to wait at their apartment for Steve rather than spend the evening dancing. Steve'd looked to the bag then to Bucky who'd just finished putting the cleaned dishes away. Sex was slow that night. Gentle and loving and long because it would be the last time in a very long time.

Bucky pressed himself closer to Steve, his body remembering what it felt like to be inside of the other man. To be closer than just friends. To be one.

Despite how rambunctious Steve was on the streets, Bucky always held him at night like he was a fragile doll. In the back of his mind he always wondered if tomorrow as going to be the day he didn't show up fast enough to save Steve from a bully who'd take it too far or if he was going to get sick and this would be the time he couldn't beat the bout of pneumonia or stupid infection.

Bucky's metal fingers tightened around the fabric of Steve's shirt as tears began to fall from his eyes. Remembering so much so fast was overwhelming but he also felt happy. He couldn't remember what had happened after his fall but he knew he felt dead without Steve and now he could really start to live again. At least he hoped so. The flash of memories faded, leaving his body shivering flushed and tears staining his cheeks and the kiss, which he broke slowly, left him breathless.

He lowered his gaze for a moment then looked at Steve. “I remember us. Not everything but... some of it,” he said and swallowed, the flesh hand still on Steve's face he ran his thumb over Steve's cheekbone. “You were... you... I love you,” he whispered, his eyes boring into Steve's.
 
Steve stopped talking about the chair as soon as he saw Bucky wince. He had hoped to make the other feel better, knowing that his brain would heal, looks like he'd made it worse though. He had to blush when he realized Bucky remembered them being lovers and licked his lips, nervous about what Bucky might have been thinking. He stayed silent for a moment, letting Bucky think, he didn't want to push, or pull, or pressure his best friend. His Lover. He gasped softly when Bucky leaned forward and kissed him, it was a surprise to say the least. A very nice surprise. Steve could no more have rejected the kiss than he could have rejected the need to breath.

Kissing Bucky had been a part of his life for so long that he was kissing back before he even realized they where actually kissing. Sure it was a chaste kiss, at first, but it was a kiss and Steve accepted it eagerly. His hands settled on Bucky's waist, still so familiar, when the other deepened the kiss, moving his mouth against Bucky's. Breath hot and lips soft, a slight moan escaping Steve as they kissed. Half anticipating something more. Half expecting Bucky to roll them over, depending on what he wanted. Steve on Top, or Steve on bottom, or just a mutual hand job in the silent darkness. Wary of listeners, wary of sneaks, wary, frightened, terrified of being caught. He moaned again, shuddering as they pressed closer, his own memories flooding him. Remembering the times when he'd been too sick, too skinny but had insisted anyway. Had enjoyed it anyway. Stolen touches wherever they could get it, hiding in dark caves and in tents and hoping to god no one caught them.

“B-Bucky?” Steve managed to stutter when he realized the other was crying, feeling panic rush through him. Had he hurt Buck? Had he made it worse?! “you remember?” he asked, looking frantic and worried. Why did remembering upset Bucky?! He was in way over his head. “oh...” he startled, eyes wide as he stared at his lover before he smiled, setting his hand on Bucky's cheek as well, just to feel the warm skin and the brush of stubble that he had always loved. “i Love you too Buck.” he whispered his promise. “i'll always love you.” he leaned forward, gave him another lingering kiss before pulling away. “i think you need to rest.” he admitted, gently wiping the tears away. “you must be exhausted. Come on. I have some Pajamas you can borrow. They might be a little big but they're soft and comfortable.” he assured Bucky with the faintest smile. Shy, but eager to please, as he always had been. “then you need to sleep. Sleep is important you know, even if we don't need as much of it.” he kissed Bucky's forehead and then ushered him into soft pajamas. They where a set Tony had gotten him, something called Dr. Who. The dark blue with bright white patterns made Bucky look rather cute and Steve was very glad that Tony had gotten him them. Now he just had to convince Bucky it was okay to go to sleep. The nap would do wonders for the both of them he was sure.
 
The sounds of Steve's moans sent jolts of electricity right to his groin but despite the urge and remembering how they used to move together he couldn't bring himself to do it. There used to be so much love and emotion to them. And while he knew he loved Steve, felt it even, he needed more before he took that plunge. He felt like it owed it to Steve to remember more of their times together before he just... went for it. He used to flirt and date girls, to keep suspicions down, even took a few to bed before he and Steve both smartened up and admitted what they felt for each other, though he didn't remember that yet. He wanted to do right by Steve. He wanted to remember everything about him.

Hearing Steve words, the promise within them made Bucky feel like everything was as it should be. For now. He wasn't perfect, there were so many gaps in his memory. But he couldn't deny he felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be. By Steve's side. And someday he'd help in other ways. In any way he could. But for now he had a lot of work he had to do on himself and on his relationship with his best friend and lover. He returned the kiss and nodded his head, accepting Steve's words.

Steve flew into a different mode before Bucky's and was ushering him into a pair of pyjama pants. He looked down at them, unsure of what the patterns and colours represented but they were soft and comfortable. He glanced at the bed, he used to sleep with Steve, so why not sleep beside him now? Steve always used to be on one side more than the other, he remembered that. He didn't remember why he always made an effort for that though, or which side he'd been on. Hearing. There was something wrong with his hearing. But that was gone now because of the serum. Everything that had been wrong with Steve had been fixed. Though part of his brain got defensive at the notion of it being 'wrong', there had never been anything wrong with Steve. He was sick. But it was who he was. It was good it had been fixed though. Because then he didn't have to worry about a draft giving the blonde pneumonia.

Bucky seemed far away for a moment after having gotten the pants on but then just reached down and tugged the sheets back and settled onto the bed. It was weird. Too soft. He'd spend so long just sleeping propped up against walls on the floor. “It's soft,” he murmured, shifting a bit on the mattress then looked to Steve. “You're sleeping too right?” He asked, his gaze locking onto the blonde. He didn't want to be alone now.
 
Steve hadn't wanted the kissing to end, but Bucky was far more important than some sort of sexual gratification. Steve just didn't have it in him to be so selfish and he wanted Bucky to trust him. Forcing himself on the other, o matter how horny and desperate, was something Steve could never, would never do. Steve focused instead on making sure Bucky was comfortable and relaxed. Made sure his long time lover, best friend, Brother, everything that had ever mattered to Steve, was calm and felt safe. He never realized that Bucky was thinking about all the things that had been wrong with him, though Steve was thinking about it too. A bad ear, nearly total deafness on one side. Scoliosis that had made Running very challenging on Steve even walking. Steve had often had to choose between walking slow but looking normal, or walking fast with an odd little hip sway that would allow him to walk in a straight line instead of sidling to the left. Which was his deaf side, so Bucky always stood, sat, moved on Steve's right side so that Steve wouldn't sidle into him and could hear him.

The bed too, Steve had often been so small, so sick. Asthma so bad he would sometimes wake in the night, gasping for air that wouldn't come. Asthma so bad he had to wear a mask during the fall because otherwise his Hay Fever would get so bad he'd end up in the hospital. A sensitive stomach. A heart murmur that had often been so painful all Steve could do was lay there and clutch his chest until it passed, sometimes wondering if this was what a heart attack felt like and if it was finally the attack that would kill him. He'd had arthritis in his joints, his knees and wrists specifically, even in his fingers. Sometimes so bad that on the cold winter nights he could hold neither a pencil nor a fork to eat with, and Bucky had to feed him. He had been color blind too, Protanopia. Red, orange, yellow, and some shades of the brighter green had been nothing more than shades of gray and black. Flowers had held very little appeal because they where just gray forms in a gray world. When the serum had fixed his eyesight, he had been stunned by the new colors. He still had problems with them, but then, he understood that it could take years to adjust to the new colors in his world. There had been a reason, other than not being able to afford the fancy pencils with color inside, that Steve had drawn only in lead pencil. People couldn't tell then, that he didn't know the colors. In a gray-scale picture, all he needed to know was how dark, how light, and how to shade. There was no difference then.

Back when he had been sick constantly, due to an immune deficiency that had never been properly diagnosed. Problems with his thyroid, or so the medical personnel at Shield guessed. Because he was sick all the time he had also been cold all the time. Tired, achy, grumpy. He had no control over himself sometimes. Still, Bucky had been warm, and when Steve was too sick to get out of bed, Bucky had laid next to him, sharing body heat so that Steve wouldn't get too cold. Especially in the winters. Steve had always hated the cold and after being frozen that hadn't changed at all. In fact it had gotten a lot worse. He didn't even run the air conditioner in his house. It wasn't hot enough to need one yet and even then he doubted he'd turn it on unless Bucky got uncomfortable. “yeah. I'm sleeping too.” Steve promised with a smile. “budge over so I can lay on my left side.” he ordered. Habit still to lay on his left, so he could keep his good ear up and listen for anything that might happen. They had been robbed a time or two while living in Brooklyn while he was tiny and small and the paranoia had bled over. He smiled a little as he closed his eyes, content to be with Bucky.

“...it took me a long time to get used to a bed.” Steve admitted after a while. “after I woke up from the ice I mean. They where so soft. Too soft. I slept on the floor for a week before someone noticed and insisted I get used to the beds.” he admitted. “so if you have problems we can move to a cot or an air mattress until your a little more comfortable.”
 
Bucky hesitated when he was told to budge over. He didn't think Steve'd want to sleep by his metal arm. It wasn't him. Not really. But it was. He felt it was part of him now. He just didn't know if Steve would understand. Hydra had given him the arm. But he controlled it now. He always had. They'd just controlled him as a whole for a while. Now he was himself. And he was growing. He was where he was always supposed to be, where he was meant to be. Bucky scooted over, giving Steve the room he wanted.

He though a moment about Steve's words about the bed. “No. I like it. I feel like I'm floating,” he said quietly and turned his face towards Steve and looked over his face as he laid still with his eyes closed. “I like feeling like this. It's so different than what I'm used to. I don't want to go back to that,” he admitted quietly before he turned his head to stare up at the ceiling. He let out a quiet sight and shifted back, propping himself up a little so he could see things a little better.

His blue eyes moved around the room and then to the window. He knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep right away so he just laid there, looking around the room and taking in the furniture, gaze flicking to the window and staring for a few moments, waiting for movement or any sign of threats. Before he'd look back to Steve, study his handsome face. Eventually his head got heavy and he rested it against the headboard before his eyes began to droop and he let sleep take over.

The dreams were inconsistent. Patches of memories. Good, bad, terrifying and happy with everything in between. He'd hoped with Steve there the dreams wouldn't come. Of if they did they would only be happy, good dreams. Though it seemed while he felt safe his brain picked this time to remember more of what he'd done and what had been done to him.

More faces, contorted in pain and fear moments before their final breath and their life ripped from them. Then screams, being ripped from his own throat as he tried to tell them his name, rank and serial number. His arm felt light. It was missing, nothing but a ragged, stinking stump as the flesh rotted. Then they showed him the paper. Captain America was dead. He'd crashed a plane to prevents bombs from reaching the Eastern USA.

Bucky sat up, his breath catching in his throat as he did. He glanced at the clock. He'd been asleep for 42 minutes. He frowned and raked his fingers through his hair then dropped his head back with a dull thunk against the headboard. He looked over at Steve for a moment before he pushed the sheets back and slipped from the bed silently. Bucky walked on the balls of his feet, moving silently through the room and into the bathroom. He ran the water and rinsed his face, then rubbing it over his neck to cool off. He slipped from the bathroom and into the kitchen to get some water.

He didn't want to disturb Steve's sleep so he checked out the house a little bit, checking the window frames before he sat down at the kitchen table with his glass refilled.
 
"yeah. i like it for that reason too." Steve admitted with a smile. "like laying on a cloud." he mumbled. he was so tired. he didn't need much sleep. a few hours a night, but the head injury and the stress and shock of the day made him exhausted. "i won't ever let you go, Bucky. i won't let them take you again." he promised, taking the others hand. "your home now. your safe." Bucky was back, and Steve would kill to keep the other safe. even if h had to go to ground, hide away for a while. anything to keep Bucky safe, even if he had to move in to stark Tower the way Tony had been pressing him to. but that was something to decide later, depending on if trouble popped up or not. he was asleep in moments, breathing softly as he slept. he didn't even twitch when Bucky slipped out of the bed, dead to the world or maybe just trusting Bucky that much. either way he stayed asleep while Bucky checked out the house. each window was locked electronically, but could be opened with a simple press of a button from the inside only and closed as soon as outside movement larger than a bird was detected. being that Tony had basically built the house, it was unsurprising that it was full of tech and electronics designed to keep Steve as safe as possible. all of it run by Jarvis.

Steve woke slowly, blinking a little. something was wrong, something was out of place. not where it was supposed to be. oh, Bucky wasn't in the bed. where was he? had he left!? Steve flung back the blankets, checking for a letter. nothing. shit. he slipped out of the bed, checking the time. he'd only been asleep for two hours. not uncommon for him. "Buck?" he asked, slipping out of the room, the house was dark and silent and Steve felt an uncomfortable cold pressure build up in his chest. Bucky was gone, he'd left, he was alone again. well, if Bucky thought that he was just going to let the little bastard take off again he was dead wrong! he'd get Tony in on the search this time! that would teach Bucky! oh, Bucky was right there. now he felt bad. "Buck? you okay? why are you sitting in the dark?"
 
Bucky lifted his head a bit, his gaze shifting from the glass of water to the wall when he heard Steve's voice saying his name from the bedroom, he could call out. But he figured Steve'd just go back to sleep when he didn't answer. Then footsteps, he could almost palpate the fear the other man was radiating and he frowned, he hadn't meant to cause Steve any sort of distress. He turned his head, so his eyes could see Steve in the darkness. He let his fingers grip the glass lightly and lifted it. “Thirsty,” he commented, dropping his gaze once more.

“And I had a nightmare. Sometimes I yell. I didn't want to wake you,” he offered before lifting the glass to his lips and noticed for the first time his hand was shaking. He took a quick drink then set it down, a little harder than he meant and a few drops of water sloshed out of the glass, not enough to constitute as a mess though.

“Once, dreaming, I punched a hole in a wall. Concrete wall,” he said, a soft whirring filled the room as he flexed his fingers and rolled the wrist of his left hand a few times before letting the hand rest on the table. “I don't want to hurt you either,” he said. And it was true. If the nightmare was bad enough, he could react unconsciously and hurting Steve wasn't high on his agenda, not anymore.

Now that he was in charge of his own life, and having just kissed the man and thoroughly enjoyed it, he wanted to explore that route of their lives, see if there was something salvageable. He hoped there was. It had brought such a feeling of euphoria to have his lips against the other's. And to have Steve's hands on him. He wanted more of that. But he didn't know the social customs of how to go about that. Of course it was probably the first time a situation like this had happened and there were no social customs.

Bucky looked back at Steve, watching him silently for a moment. “Can you tell me a story about us? From before. Maybe how we started doing... the ya know?” He asked, wondering how they'd come to begin having a physical relationship.
 
Steve sighed a little and shook his head. "sorry... i had a bit of a dream too." he admitted. "i thought maybe you had been a dream." he admitted before smiling a little at the other. "it's fine. i yell too, i have horrible nightmares." he admitted, settling down at the table, finding the darkness oddly comforting. like when they where younger and decided not to pay the electricity bills so they could have more money for food. they'd often cooked meals in the pitch black, the only light from candles and the wood stove that they cooked on. it was comfortable then, and seamed nostalgic now. "i've never punched anything during my nightmares." he admitted. "i did strangle Sam once though." he admitted with a wince. "i thought he was Zolo." he admitted, watching Bucky. "you can't hurt me Buck. and even if you do manage t hit me it won't hurt me for long. i won't hesitate to toss you on your ass if you attack me. i've been training with Natasha you know. i've learned a lot of things." he admitted. "you can attack me, but i'm pretty confident i can stop you." he, more than anyone, understood what it was like to be afraid of hurting the people he cared about.

"A story?" Steve asked with a smile. "sure. of course. let's see... when did we start having sex...." he muttered. "well. like most things that happened to us, it was all my fault." he admitted, looking very amused. "i came into puberty a lot later than most and i didn't start having any physical urges of any kind until we where living together." he admitted. "Tony thinks it's because i was never really interested in anyone but you." he admitted. "for all i know, or care, that's true." he admitted. "it was a harder winter than most. i was down with a cold and i just couldn't get warn at all. it was so cold and we couldn't afford to turn the heater up and the stove had gone out hours ago..." he recounted, thinking about it. "you where just holding me, tight as you could and you where so warm." he admitted. "i wasn't wearing any clothes of course, i never did like wearing clothes to bed because they where always so loose and it felt like they where strangling me in my sleep. we couldn't afford many clothes, so i just wore yours since you had to look good for work and stuff." he admitted. "anyway we where laying there and i was thinking about how nice and warm you where and how good you smelled and... well..." here he flushed. "i got hard and all embarrassed and you tried to make me feel better and i'm still not sure who started it or how it happened but i blinked and we where kissing and the next thing i know you where inside of me, making me feel more pleasure than m few aborted attempts at masturbation." he admitted, smiling. "best day of my life really." he admitted. "even if you did catch my cold." he admitted with a chuckle. "Sex was pretty rare for us unfortunately, because i was so sick all the time, but we used to give each other a lot of hand jobs until you where shipped off to war and i followed." he admitted.
 
“I can hurt you. I did,” he pointed out and shifted on the table so he was semi-facing Steve rather than fully facing the table when he sat down. Even though Steve had managed to knock him out at one point, and had refused to fight after a point, he had walked away from that fight and Steve hadn't. Had it been a fair fight, he really didn't know who would win. But he didn't want to find out anymore. He nodded his head to Steve's words. “I think you could. But I'd rather not put you in the position to have to try.”

When Steve agreed to tell him the story of how they started having sex he folded his arms on the table, lowered himself to rest his head on his forearms and tilted his head to watch Steve as he spoke. He felt... odd at the sensation of how amused Steve looked. Something in his chest fluttered seeing Steve happy. Seeing him healthy and happy made something inside of him happy. He didn't recall that feeling but he was beginning to realize what it was and Steve being happy was very important to him. The more Steve told him, the more he understood these feelings were so powerful because it was like his heart and soul remembered he had to protect Steve and keep him safe. But could he keep him safe from himself?

Bucky stayed silent after the story ended then sat up abruptly and turned his head to look behind him. “It was small. Real small. It was only supposed to be for one then... then Sarah died,” he mumbled, his voice barely a whisper. He stood and walked through the halls, back into the bedroom and he looked at the bed then turned and looked at the wall opposite the bed. “There was art pinned up, I used to look at it before going to sleep before you lived there,” he said and reached a hand to press against the wall. His gaze moved from the wall to his metal fingers and he pulled his hand back quickly, frowning at the shiny metal fingers.

“I don't remember what touches like those feel like. Or to be safe. Happy,” he swallowed and turned his gaze to look around the room. “Why don't you have any of your sketches up? Do you still draw?” He asked, brows furrowing. “Did you draw?”
 
he snorted a little. "you had an entirely unfair advantage." he complained, sulking at the other. "i know you don't want to be in the position." he admitted, wondering if he could get Tony to make something. probobly, he'd text the other later. Steve moved his arms and hands as he talked, he had always been an animated talker. he startled when James suddenly sat up and blinked at him a little. "oh. yeah." he nodded. "the apartment we had was really small. really it wasn't even big enough for you alone, but we made it work." he admitted. "you insisted on me moving in after my Ma died, because i was always so sick i couldn't always take care of myself." he admitted before smiling a little. "yeah, i used to draw you things, and i'd snitch a few magazines or pinups from the stands when i could get away with it." he admitted with an impish grin. "i used to go picking pockets sometimes when you where gone at work. you used to get so pissed off." not that James could talk, since he was the one who taught Steve how to in the first place. Steve used to snark that James was just jealous because Steve could do it better.

"you'll remember." Steve promised, running his hands up James arms. both of them the same way. "you'll remember, and if you don't, then i'll just have to teach you again." he promised with a smile, gently squeezing the others shoulders. "i used to." Steve admitted, smiling sadly. "but the more i tried to draw, the more the drawings kept turning into you and making me think of things i could never have again so i stopped because it hurt too much. i paint a bit, here and there. Ton got them for me. i paint things like trees and the skyline and stuff. things that won't make me think of things from the past." he admitted. "i like the bright colors." he admitted. "now that i can actually see them. i really like to use them in my paintings, though i tend to stick to grey scale in my drawings. in my paintings i can at least claim they're abstract if i get the colors messed or mixed up." despite being able to see the colors now, he'd gone most of his life never seeing them. so his brain still got confused on what color was what. especially if there was a lot of color. "here. i still have my sketchbooks." he admitted, heading over to his drawing table and picked up the last sketch he had been working on, a picture of Bucky of course, younger, smooth skinned, grinning out at the viewer while wearing his nifty Army uniform.
 
When Steve stood in front him, running his hands up and down his arms Bucky let out a quiet hum of appreciation. He didn't realize how much he actually craved feeling skin against his own, or even just a gentle touch. Bucky lowered his gaze as he racked his brain, trying to remember if he'd had a friend among the Hydra teams. If there was someone who'd just nudge him, clap his shoulder. He couldn't see the faces of people he'd worked alongside so he couldn't imagine much camaraderie between him and them. He was just a weapon to them. A tool to be used to cause death and destruction.

Bucky turned his head, following Steve's motions then reached out to take the sketch from Steve, he let his eyes run over the lines or charcoal creating an almost picture like image of himself. But he looked so different. Even from the way he looked in those pictures at the Smithsonian. The sketch Steve had drawn from memory was... he was young and happy. The lines of his body relaxed. “This is amazing,” he said quietly, his gaze flicking to Steve's face. “I don't remember being this happy,” he whispered, tracing his flesh fingers over the paper and then handing the piece of art back to his friend.

He glanced at the drawing table before looking back to Steve and searching his face. “I'm sorry I caused you so much pain Steve. I know it wasn't my fault, not directly. But I was still the cause of some of it and I'm sorry you had to go through that,” he said and licked over his lower lip. “I remember a paper. They showed me a paper... you were dead. The plane crash. When I woke up in the snow they took me to a cell. It was dark. Name, rank and serial number. All I told them for days. Felt like weeks then they brought in the paper. I didn't know the reason I gave up then. But it was you. You were dead so I didn't want to live. Didn't have anything to tell them, so why keep fighting if you weren't there to go home to?” He swallowed and sat down the bed, his gaze far away as he remembered.

“They wanted to make me kill. But I refused. For a long time I refused. You weren't there to go home to but I couldn't just kill,” he shook his head, face contorting as he rake his fingers through his hair. “I didn't want to become this Steve. I truly didn't,” he stated, his blue eyes begging Steve to believe him.
 
Steve smiled a little as he stroked the others arms, enjoying the hum. "it was pretty rare, you being that happy." he admitted. "this was just before we went to the Stark Expo. you got us a date each even though i hated girls." he admitted with a chuckle. "being gay back then was bad, people would have stoned us or we would have gone to prison or something nasty. so we had to hide our dates as double dates. you where really good at it but i never did manage it very well. most people just thought i was awkward thankfully." he admitted with a smile. "that was our last date together before you where shipped off to fight Nazi soldiers, and i told you that you looked really dashing in your Sergent's uniform." he admitted. "and then i got pissed off because you said i was the best Dame you ever had." he admitted with a chuckle. "i almost refused to have sex with you. almost."

"it wasn't your fault Buck." he promised with a smile. "the only reason why it ever hurt so much, was because i loved you." he admitted. "i still love you. with everything i have i love you." he promised. "yeah. i wasn't really... you know. stable when you fell. at the time i thought you where dead and you where all i had in life." he admitted. "so i crashed the plane. figured i could join you again in death. heaven or hell, it didn't matter so long as i could be with you again." he admitted with a smile. "it wasn't until i woke up in that crappy little hospital... that i realized i probobly could have survived jumping off the train to go after you." he admitted. granted, he would have been pretty useless, since the plain crash had broken his back, but at least they would have been together. "i don't know how long it took before they gave up looking for me, but i know the paper hit the streets about a month after you fell." he admitted.

he sat next to James and nodded. "i know James. i know this isn't what you wanted. they un-made you until you didn't even know up from down. all you could do was obey. do what they told you to. they unmade you James and no one can stand up to that." he admitted softly. "you can't be blamed, everyone has a breaking point and they exploited yours and when they still couldn't get you to do what they wanted. you chose, to not be what they wanted, they made you into something else and that is not your fault. you fought them with everything you had and that's what matters most." he admitted, gently taking Bucky's hand. just holding it. "your free now. you won't ever have to do anything like that again." he promised. "you'll be okay now." he promised. "it might not be right away, but you'll recover from this like we have everything." he smiled at him. "come on. we'll hit my gym, punching bags always makes me feel better, maybe it'll make you feel better too. and Tony made me special bags that can't be broken. he used something stronger than Kevlar if you can believe that."
 
The scoff was out before he could even think about it. “If I said that then you shouldn't have. I can't imagine you ever being compared to a dame,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he let out a deep breath he'd been holding for such a long time. He leaned back, letting his back rest against the bed as he stared up at the ceiling and let out a slow breath. “From the fragments I can remember you were the toughest guy around. Maybe you couldn't hold your own but you never backed down from a fight. Not saying a woman can't but a dame is kinda different,” he reasoned and tilted his head to look at Steve.

Bucky propped himself up and stared at Steve's handsome face as he admitted to crashing the plane, part of him knew it had been because of him. Captain America could have gotten that plane down without those bombs going off and without the crash. But if their positions had been switched, he knew in his guts he'd have done the exact same thing. He didn't remember his love for Steve Rogers but he knew it in his gut. He felt it.

Bucky laughed. “Great. Yeah, giving Hydra two super assassins. Maybe you'd have lost your right arm and then we'd be a perfect match,” he said and gave his head a shake as he glanced towards Steve. He was bitter, he knew it. And he was angry. He could always feel the angry bubbling just below the surface. It was easier to handle than the fear he felt though. Fear of the chair, the chamber where the ice came. But Steve didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of either of those emotions.

Bucky frowned as he pushed himself into a sitting position. “You don't know. You don't. What they did. What they made me do and what I did. The point is that I did break and I become this. I became the Winter Soldier or The Asset or whatever else people have taken to calling me,” he dropped his gaze to their hands and gave Steve's a gentle squeeze.

“They won't stop. They're going to keep trying to get me back. I killed so many of theirs. After D.C. I mean. I was so angry I just... I wanted to hurt them. Hydra. So badly it was all I could think about. And I didn't know why I was angry. I think part of it is cause they took me away from you. And cause they used me to hurt you,” he said as he closed his eyes and his grip on Steve's hand tightened.

He nodded his head at the idea of going to Steve's gym. “As horrible as it may sound, beating the shit out of a bag of sand may just make me feel a little better. Not as good as a face of some Hydra goon but it'll do,” he reasoned and looked at their hands then back to Steve's face and looked over his face then into his eyes. "And I love you too. I may not remember us, but I can feel it."
 
he snorted a little. "you forget how small i was back then." he admitted. "when i wore a dress i really did look like a Dame." he admitted. "honestly i think you just enjoyed how cute i looked when i was pissed at you." he admitted with a chuckle. "i could hold a grudge for months against anyone, but i could barely last a whole minute against you." he admitted. "you where just too cute for me to really be annoyed with i guess." he admitted before he smirked at James. "i was always getting into trouble, whether i could handle it or not. you used to walk the back alleys looking for me, because you knew i'd be in one of them, getting my ass kicked." he admitted with a smile before shrugging. "i used to just tell you where i was going to be everyday and when and you'd just go check on me ever once and a while. some days, i even stayed out of trouble, just to keep you on your toes." he admitted with a grin.

"i doubt they would have been able to break us if we'd been together." he admitted. "we would have done the same as we always did. band together and kicked some ass i'm sure." he admitted with a smile. "in any case, there's no changing the past i guess. Tony hasn't figured out Time Travel yet." he admitted, smiling at James sarcasm, looking at his own right arm. "i almost did lose it actually. during the Chitauri invasion. it got crushed." he admitted. "but Bruce is one of the best, he was able to fix it up like nothing at all happened." he admitted. "the others where super furious when they found out." they had not been very happy that he had kept such a serious injury a secret.

"i don't know for a fact no, but i now what i've seen." he admitted. "i know what Natasha's told me. she was KGB, a Black Widow since she was six. she knows better than anyone what it's like to be unmade." he admitted. "i know that they had to have done horrible, despicable things to make you break and that those things are probably traumatizing you even now as you slowly begin to remember." he admitted before he smirked at Bucky. "oh. they'll give up someday, even if we have to destroy ever single person attached to Hydra." he admitted. "they will stop someday, because someday they will all of them, be dead, either by our hands or another." he promised. "someday, you won't have to be worried anymore." he promised. "it might not be anytime soon, but it will happen."

"alright. come on." he urged, grinning as he got to his feet and tucked Bucky to his. "it's downstairs." he admitted. "i had it put int he basement, there was more room down there." he admitted. "Tony made everything special for me too." he admitted before he smiled at Bucky and pulled him into a light kiss. "i will always love you." he promised. "now stop being sappy. you can't kill punching bags when your being sappy." he teased, smiling at Bucky and leading the way down tot he basement. it was very well lit, there was a boxing ring on the middle and a set of bags over in the far left corner hanging from a massive stand that was bolted into walls, ceiling and floor made from some kind of black metal. the bags themselves where about a hundred and fifty pounds heavier than a normal one and made from some kind of Cloth that could actually stand up to the punch of a super soldier. and, just in case, there was a row of backups. in the far right corner there was a treadmill that looked more like a tank. it could go as fast as Steve could run and maintain that speed without exploding, perfect for when Steve didn't want to go outside for his jogs. in the close right corner was a typical free-weight machine, one that could handle everything Steve could life and more and in the left close corner was a endless pool with a hot tub right next to it for Steve to soak in when he was done exhausting himself. "pretty cool right?" Steve asked with a grin.
 
Bucky wasn't expecting the kiss and stared at Steve a moment after before a tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “'m not a sap,” he grunted before following the other down to the basement and looked around. He took everything in, getting to the know the layout rather quickly since it was an open space. He nodded his head. “Yea, cool,” he agreed, glancing towards Steve once more before his gaze was back out and looking over the room. He eyed the bags, curious as to whether they could actually withstand a round with him and his metal hand. He did have a lot of emotions to get out and maybe Steve was right and this would help.

Bucky wanted to tell Steve everything he could remember about being with Hydra but he wasn't ready to actually put memories into words and make facts for someone else. He walked across the room and towards the bags and gave the one hanging a 'light' hit then glanced back at Steve. “So you do this a lot then?” he asked and faced the bag. He squared his shoulders, spread his feet then gave the bag a few jabs. It was odd not giving it his all with the metal arm, it was designed to kill and he'd never used it for anything but that.

As he continued to throw punches he got a bit more into it, the memories of ice and electricity and pain flooding over him as he began to throw harder and faster. He didn't sweat the way he used to but his breathing changed with the exertion. Each punch came with a forced exhale. As the punches became more and more intense he suddenly froze just before his left fist hit the bag, he stared the bag then sighed and pushed it as he stepped back. “Alright, so you're right. That helps,” he said with a small smile and a shake of his head then turned and walked over to Steve.

He searched the other man's eyes a moment before he grabbed his face and pressed his lips against Steve's as he let his body lean against his. He parted his lips to deepen the kiss and lifted his hands to run his fingers through Steve's short hair. “I do remember how small you used to be. I could feel the bones of your spine and ribs against my stomach and chest when we slept,” he dropped his hands hold Steve's hips. “I don't remember you like this though,” he sighed against Steve's lips, ceasing the kissing but keeping his lips within a breath of Steve's.

“I only remember bad touches,” he mumbled and dropped his heads a little as he looked down between their bodies and slid his right hand to rest against Steve's belly and splayed his fingers over him, feeling the dents of his abs. “Except yours. Yours were good,” he closed his eyes and laughed a bit. “Sap. Guess Hydra turned me into a sap,” he shook his head and stepped back.
 
"you are totally a sap." he teased with a chuckle before grinning a little. "Tony's really a genius." he admitted. "he'll probobly be over sometime in the ext couple of days to geek out on you. that arm of yours is gonna drive him nuts." he admitted. "he can't stand people having, as he calls it, crappy tech." he admitted. "he's my friend, as annoying as he is, so try not to pound his face in okay?" he asked with a smile before letting James loose on the bag. it was something he understood all too well, beating out the pain, the memories, beating out the thoughts that never stopped whirling in his head. beating on the bag so that he could have just a moments peace. "i know." he admitted with a grin. "when the memories get too bad, i tend to do the same thing. beat on a helpless bag. i don't like to Spar like that because i forget myself and might actually hurt my sparring partner." he admitted. "it's better to pound on a bag until i calm down and it's rather cathartic."

"hmmm... sometimes i miss it." Steve admitted leaning into the hands in his hair. he'd always had a surprisingly sensitive scalp. "sometimes i miss being so small a person could pick me up and carry me, especially after a long mission." he admitted before smiling at Bucky. "i was only like this for a few months before you fell." he admitted. "i got like this while you where gone, because i wanted to follow you and this was the only way." he admitted. "you where pretty shocked when you first saw me, though to be fair you had been tortured and i had to unstrap you from a table so you where pretty disoriented anyway." he admitted, smiling as he kissed the other back, hands settling around James shoulders, pulling him in closer. "i'm glad you can remember something good." Steve whispered before smirking. "no. Hydra didn't do shit. if anyone turned you into a sap it was me." he admitted with a smile before sighing and letting the other pull back, his head tilted. "you don't have to stop you know. if you don't want to." he admitted with a smile, reaching out and taking the others hand, just holding it. "come on. i'll make you some breakfast. would you rather have pancakes or omelets? never mind, i'm starving i'll make both."
 
“I'm sure I can handle annoying well enough,” he said quietly and swallowed. “What memories?” He asked, glancing at Steve. He was sure there was probably stuff they'd done during the war which would give anyone nightmares, it wasn't easy taking the life of another human. The faces of his victims haunted him constantly. He wondered if it was like that for Steve. “We could spar sometime. I can handle you and you can handle me,” he pointed out. “I don't know how good I am at listening and I'm sure my opinions at this point don't mean much but... I'll listen if you do need to talk Steve,” he said. It was weird using the Captain's first name. Steve. So simple yet it made his heart clench and he felt so much guilt for leaving the other man the way he had. And putting him through what he had. Not being there when he was needed most.

Bucky looked down at their hands the looked back to Steve and stepped forward. “I can do that ya know,” he offered quietly then shook his hand free from Steve's and dipped down a little, he moved his hands to the back of Steve's thighs, gripped him firmly then picked up him and held him against his side. He looked into Steve's eyes and couldn't help the small tug of a smile. “I kinda remember this. But... you'd be on my back,” he said and pulled his gaze from Steve's face and carried the large and very capable of walking blonde man up the stairs.

Once in the kitchen he set the slightly larger man on his own two feet and glanced at the window. “I wasn't allowed windows. Or, well, they never had them. From what I can remember,” he said quietly and stared out the window for a few minutes before turning his gaze back to Steve. “Can I help? With cooking?” He offered, not quiet sure how to make pancakes or omelets but wanting to learn.
 
"i'm sure you can too." Steve agreed with a chuckle. "...oh well... just, the war. killing people, fighting Hydra. falling into the ice and being frozen, fighting Aliens. watching Tony fly into that big black hole... mostly it's fighting Hydra though, the memories that are the worst is watching you fall." he admitted softly before smiling a little. "i'd like that. a good spar sometimes is the best thing that helps." he admitted before smiling at Bucky. "sometimes talking helps." he admitted. "other times, it feels like the worst thing in the world." he admitted. "the days i feel like talking, i probobly will. on the days i don't, i probobly won't." he admitted with a shake of his head. "it's hard sometimes, but... if you ever need to talk, i'll be here to listen too." he promised with a smile.

Steve gasped, startled as he was lifted off the floor and scrabbled for a moment, worried he was about to be dropped before he chuckled a little. "give a guy some warning next time." he ordered with a chuckle, looping his arms around James shoulders, pressing his nose into the others neck, just smelling him. "yeah. i'd get tired, i couldn't walk far and you'd have to piggy back me to where we where going." he admitted with a smile. "you where always carrying me places." he admitted with a chuckle, relaxing, letting James carry him up the stairs. "well you have windows now." he admitted. "from what little i know, they stayed mostly underground so they probobly didn't have any." he admitted, smiling a little. "of course you can." he promised. "grab the eggs and milk and the heavy cream out of the fridge for me would you?" he asked, grabbing some bowls and a whisk. he still preferred to do most of his cooking the old fashioned way. "what kind of stuff do you like in your omelets? we used to have them plain, couldn't afford anything to go in them, but we have peppers, onions, garlic, bacon, sausage, mushrooms, anything you like." he offered, cracking the eggs against the counter and cracking them into the bowl one handed as he settled a pan on his stove.
 
“They did stay mostly underground, but the doctors and the teams, the handlers... they all had homes with windows,” he pointed out quietly. It was a small thing but to him he was always in the dark or on a mission. Life had been divided into those two things. Darkness and being the weapon he was created to be. Bucky turned from Steve to go to the fridge and grabbed the eggs and the milk and scanned the labels for a moment before finding the heavy cream and stepped back, he tapped the door with his foot before going over to the counter. He set everything down rather gently then stood and watched as Steve began cracking the eggs.

“I saw some of the battle of New York online. I just saw some clips, not much. Considering everything,” he poked Steve's shoulder. “It seems people found it hard to believe in aliens,” he commented, gaze focused on Steve's face as he cracked the eggs. “There was a bit of Iron Man carrying the bomb into the portal, he was alright though right? He survived? That's who it was right?” He asked. He'd checked out the batter and then glanced at Steve when he asked what sort of omelet he wanted. “I don't remember what all of that tastes like,” he admitted with a frown. “But umm, maybe just basic since the whole sensitive stomach thing and I haven't had much solid food,” he said though he was racking his brain to try and remember what all of those things tasted like.
 
he nodded. "it was a way of keeping you lesser than them, people have done it for centuries. the blacks where lesser. the jews where lesser... the mutants are lesser. it's a never ending cycle of people making themselves better by making another person lesser." he admitted softly before smiling at him. "you won't have to go back to that. i promise." he'd fight to the death to make sure that James wouldn't ever have to go back to those monsters. "it was pretty awful." he admitted. "you know... i had spent how many years, to find and destroy that blasted blue box... i thought i finally had, crashing the ship into the ocean after the blue Box, the so called Tesseract, ate through the bottom of the ship. i thought that was the end of it." he admitted. "then Fury calls and asks me about it and i realize that Howard fucking Stark fished it out of the ocean and a man i respected, a man i trusted was making god damn weapons out of what i DIED to keep out of anyone's hands!..." he started when the the bowl in his hands shattered and he flinched, realizing he was bleeding. "i'm sorry." he muttered. "i shouldn't be yelling." he admitted, sighing as he wiped the blood off his hand and started picking up the pieces of the ceramic bowl he'd been about to start the pancake batter in, not really caring that he was still bleeding.

"Tony almost didn't come back out of that stupid hole." he admitted softly. "he fell... he was dead for a few seconds. his heart had stopped, and he wasn't breathing. Hulk, the big green thing, woke him up." he admitted. "i'll do yours plain then." he agreed, wiping up the blood he'd spilled, already healed and unbothered by the damage to his bowls. he broke one nearly every day because he forgot his strength. he got down another bowl and settled in to continue making his pancakes and using a pan he started up some bacon because, it was bacon. he loved bacon. another pan already had a plain omelet going while he mixed up the pancake batter and added already cooked mushrooms, onions and garlic to his omelet. he had eggs every morning so he kept a supply of cooked stuff to go in them. he wasn't too fussy, he threw whatever he had into them. "grab the plates would you?" he asked, indicating the cupboard. "and then flip the bacon?" he asked, handing Bucky the tongs as he used a spatula to flip the plain omelet with a smile, flipping it onto the plate. it was crooked, but it was done perfectly. he didn't care much about making the food look perfect on the plate so long as it tasted good. he'd spent a good long time teaching himself how to cook for James back when they where living together, he was glad to show the other man how far he'd come since then. especially since James didn't remember how may times Steve had nearly burnt their apartment down.
 
Bucky watched Steve as he spoke, his grey-blue eyes never straying from Steve's face. When the bowl shattered Bucky flinched as well and frowned when he saw the blood. “Steve,” he said quietly, his voice reminiscent of how he'd have spoken 70 years ago. Concern was etched on his face but then Steve was talking again and Bucky blinked, confused a moment. Too much different stimulation at once between the blood, the talking and trying to remember what food tasted like. He got lost in his brain for a moment, hearing the words Steve continued to speak. When he snapped out it less than a minute later his eyes snapped to Steve's hand looked at the healed skin. “Yea, okay,” he said with a stiff nod and turned away from the counter then paused. “Where are the plate?” He asked, frowning then looked to Steve and then to where he was told the plates were. He stepped silently to the cupboard and opened it and slipped two out then shut the cupboard.

Once he set the plates beside Steve he took the tongs and then moved to the stove and flipped the bacon, watching how the oil and fat danced in the pan and focused on the sound a moment. “Better in the hands of Stark than Hydra,” he said after a moment and looked over to Steve. “I mean, it's not fair. You should have been able to live your life and you crashed the plane going after... him and it. But the bombs too, you didn't go into the water for nothing,” he mumbled, frowning. “My guts knot at the idea of you getting hurt,” he swallowed and stared down at the bacon as it continued to sizzle noisily.

“And the weapons. I mean, not everything is black and white. The weapons, were they before or after New York? Can we fight another alien invasion better with those than without?” He asked, shrugging a shoulder. “People do stupid things when they thing it's the right thing,” lifted his eyes to Steve's face once more. “And when they're scared. Aliens are scary. I'm sure a lot of people did some stupid things following that whole thing,” he said quietly. “And Tony didn't die. You almost died too. You're both still alive though, you shouldn't worry yourself so much about the past Steve. Got a rough future ahead you need to worry about if you're going to keep me around,” he tried at a joke but knew it was gonna fall short.
 
"i know, i'm sorry. i shouldn't let my temper get the better of me." he admitted, recognizing the tone and reacting to it as he always did before watching the other, worried. he wasn't sure if James was having a flashback or not and he didn't want to startle the other if he was. thankfully James seamed to snap out of it before too long and Steve sighed a little and pointed to the cupboard that had the plates in it. "...yeah. that's true enough." he admitted. "but the truth is, after we died, Howard changed and it wasn't for the better." he admitted. "he became a war monger, you know. and tortured his son. i never said anything to Tony but there are files. people reported Howard to the police for Child Abuse but he was rich enough to bury the reports and avoid getting into any more trouble than the occasional slap on the wrist. "we both know i had no life there." he admitted. "once the war was over, i would have become a lab experiment with no rights. after all, technically speaking, we're not human anymore." he admitted. "it's better i ended up in this time, even if it's overwhelming." he smiled at Bucky. "if i hadn't crashed, i would have never found you again." he pointed out before nodding. "my guts knot, knowing your entire life has been torture." he admitted softly.

"The weapons where built before the Chitauri invasion." he admitted. "Fury claims he only started after Thor appeared, but i backdated as many files as i could and some of them started before i was even pulled off the ice, before they even knew Aliens existed." he admitted. "i'm sure he thought it was the best thing to do, or maybe he was ordered, i don't know. i just don't like it." he admitted. "a lot of people did a lot of stupid things." he admitted before smiling at James. "i didn't come very close this time. i'm a lot more careful these days actually." he admitted. "yu wouldn't believe it of course but, i think i'm finally finding a place where i can settle." Steve had never really fit in anywhere, now he had friends, he had a life, he had a job he loved and best of all, he had Bucky back. sure his PTSD kicked in hard sometimes and he got depressed, but he loved his life now, for the most part. "there's nothing rough about it." he admitted. "Fury owes me one. he'll arrange things." he admitted. "and if he can't Tony can." he admitted with a smile as he cracked the eggs into a second omelet, this one with mushrooms and onions and Garlic. the six egg omelets where rather massive but perfect for a super soldier in need of better but soft food. "want a protein shake?" Steve asked. he had them daily, sometimes six or seven times a day. the protein shakes meant he didn't have to gulp down as much food, so he didn't have to spend so much time cooking instead of things he enjoyed more, like painting, or running. energy bars too where amazing, he loved them. he'd go through three boxes a day just because he liked the novelty of them and because he could carry them with him when he left the house. he was already dumping bananas, blueberries, strawberries and other such things into the blender with yogurt and protein powder and other such things that he liked like Chia seeds and mint. he was a bit of a freak really.
 
“If Tony's a Stark then I'm sure he knows about those files on him,” Bucky said quietly. “There wasn't much Howard didn't know even when it wasn't exactly common knowledge,” he sighed, leaning his hip against the counter as he watched Steve. “I remember bits of Howard, that's disappointing what happened to him. And it's not excuse but he did see some stuff close to the front lines, maybe he just wasn't mentally capable of handling it on a civilian basis,” he mumbled and licked over his lips. So much of the other stuff was coming back to him, it seemed the important things remained hidden, like his brain had stored it further away to keep it pure and away from the darkness he'd known since his fall.

“We are human. Just different. Enhanced. We bleed, feel and have emotions. Just because we heal differently doesn't mean we're not human,” he frowned, blue-grey eyes staring intensely at Steve's face. “If anyone tries to take your rights away I'll kill'em,” he mumbled and let his gaze flick back to the food for a moment but it ended falling back onto Steve after he spoke of how his guts knotted and shrugged a shoulder. “It's alright. I suppose death would have been worse, nobody to watch over your punk ass in the 21st century if I'd died,” he pointed out.

He listened to Steve talk and then something clicked and he lifted his gaze to Steve. “Fury's alive? I killed him,” he said with a tilt of his head, his eyes drifting as he recalled firing the shots into Steve's apartment and into the man who'd been his mission and moments later he'd been running from Steve which led to the brief altercation on the roof. Very brief.

“And there's always been a race to have the deadliest, most powerful weapons. Even between countries,” he reminded Steve. “Gas, grenades, guns, all of it was changing by the time we hit the front lines. Tanks too. Hydra was always a head though,” he frowned. “Who can really blame them for using it to try and get ahead?” he asked, knowing Steve probably wouldn't agree and he didn't know if he really did agree, but he didn't like something weighing on his friend's mind and if he could, he'd take some of the burden away in any way he could.

“I guess?” he asked in the way of an answer to the protein shake. He had a feeling he'd be throwing this stuff up but the smell of the eggs cooking had his stomach cramping for real food and if the omelets would be as good as they smelt then he was sure the protein shake would be delicious as well.
 
"it's Howard Stark, i'm ot sure, after all these years, there are any files left to find." he admitted. "Tony might not know if there aren't computer records after all." he admitted before grimacing. "no. while it might have been the front lines that made him change, that's no excuse for some of the things he's done to Tony. not that Tony knows i know, he... talks, when he's drunk and for a while there Tony was drunk all the time so i learned some things i don't think i was supposed to. Howard has no excuse at all for the things he's done." he admitted. "i won't tell you because it is Tony's secrete and you don't need that kind of nightmares." he admitted before smiling a little at the other. "that's true, but we both know that's not how people think." it wasn't just the Nazi regimen that had racist and bigoted actions after all. American's did such things every day without even thinking about it. "no ones tried yet." he assured James. "but that doesn't mean they won't try eventually. it's already starting with the Mutants." he admitted.

"yeah, like i need watching." he scoffed. "i am perfectly fine." he admitted, shaking his head a little. "it's a little overwhelming but i'm not nearly as depressed here as i was back home." he admitted, smiling at James. "you don't have to worry so much about me you know." he admitted before hesitating. "ah. well... you did your best." he admitted with a smile. "i think you might even have succeeded for a little bit." he admitted with a chuckle. "but no, he's well and truly kicking." he promised before shrugging a little. "yeah, that's true." he admitted. "but there's a limit James and the Tesseract was well beyond that Limit." he sighed. "but, then again, Fury's always had trouble seeing the line, it's because he's missing an eye i think." he admitted, tapping his own cheek where Fury's eye-patch would be. "i'll make you a shake." he decided with a smile and a shake of his head as he blended a second one for James, piling all the food onto their plates and handing one to James and indicated the chair and Tables so they could eat. "go ahead, eat up." he offered with a smile. "i'll have to go grocery shopping later though, this is the last of my groceries." he admitted. "would you be okay going with me or do you want to stay in while i go?"
 
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