Title: To Warm A Winter Day
Fandom: Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Length: 1087 words
Summary: Steve had just begun to give up when Bucky appeared, a smirk sitting awkwardly on his lips, metal arm carefully hidden from view.
Content notes: Brief mention of past trauma and brainwashing.



Steve sat at the counter, cupping a warm mug in his hands. He couldn't say much for the taste but the warmth sank into his joints, making him feel that much more alive. It had been a long day of searching for Bucky in this frosty, forgotten part of the world and the constant strain and disappointment was beginning to make Steve feel every bit of his 94 years.

After a long day of wandering, asking around, and following dead leads, he and Sam had finally put the day to bed, shoring up in a rundown little motel. After lying down and listening to Sam's quiet snores for an hour, Steve had gotten up and walked to a nearby 24 hour diner.

The cold from outside had seeped in and Steve sank deeper into himself, leaning against the wall. Taking a sip from his coffee, he resisted blanching at the taste, instead rubbing his fingers over his lips and looking out the window into the dimly lit street. The street was just as deserted as the diner was; the waitress chatted quietly with a man at the counter. Steve was far enough away that even if they'd been speaking in English, he still wouldn't have understood what they were saying; he had picked the booth furthest away, projecting an air of 'please don't bother me.'

Steve was beginning to feel the bleak sting of hopelessness. What were they doing? Bucky was the Winter Soldier. If he didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be found and Steve was beginning to feel like he really didn't want to be found. Gripping one hand into a fist, Steve tapped it against the table. He was trying to be patient and understanding but a part of him was beginning to get angry. Bucky remembered him. Bucky saved him. They could help him if he would just let them. But Bucky clearly didn't want help.

Steve sighed and buried his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes wearily. He was being unfair and he knew it. Bucky had gone through the type of trauma that most people didn't come back from; he was probably have trouble figuring out who he was and who the Winter Soldier was. Steve knew he needed to be more patient but he could admit that had never been his strong suit.

Movement at the other end of the booth startled Steve and he looked up sharply. And stared.

Bucky sat across from him, hands under the table in his lap, staring at Steve with an expression entirely opposite to anything Steve remembered on his old friend's face. It didn't change the fact that he was looking at him, that Steve was finally face to face with Bucky.

"Bucky?"

Bucky blinked and rolled his shoulders in a quick, stiff circle. "Sometimes. Mostly," he said, voice rusty. "What are you doing here, Steve?"

Steve paused, heart lurching at the question. "What am I...I'm looking for you," he said, brow furrowing. He could feel the frustration and anger that he'd been trying so hard to keep tempered down boiling over. "What, did you think I was just...going to abandon you? Pretend we didn't know each other? Pretend that you're not my best friend? Bucky, I..." he paused, before continuing, voice cracking. "...did you want me to? Did you want to leave everything behind? Because damn it, I don't know if I can-”

“Shh, calm down,” Bucky said, and he was smiling. It looked odd, like he'd forgotten how to do it, but it was there. “I was asking why you were here. In this diner," he clarified. "I went by the motel but I only found Wilson. The guy was sleeping like a baby."

"What-"

"Honestly, you sure are a hard guy to find." The smile shifted to a smirk, settling on Bucky's face as if it'd always been there.

Steve stared at him for a moment, debating whether he was angry or relieved, and sighed explosively, a smile tugging on his lips. Shaking his head, he gripped the coffee cup to keep from reaching out. He didn't know how Bucky would react to that and the last thing he wanted was for him to disappear again. "Aw hell, Bucky. It's...I'm really glad to see you." His voice wavered and he cleared it. "Are you..." Okay didn't seem like the right question to ask but Steve was suddenly at a loss.

Bucky shook his head. "I'm getting there," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. With his human arm, Steve realized. The metal one stayed in his lap, hidden from view. "I needed some time to figure shit out."

"What have you figured out?" The question was out of Steve's mouth before he could stop it and he winced. "You don't have to-"

Bucky looked out the window, gaze distant. "After I saved you, I started remember little things. Sitting on the curb together in Brooklyn. Watching you sweat to death as a fever broke. Things like that that were messing with my head. Don't get me wrong, I still saw you as my mission," he said, eyebrows raised. "But I also didn't. Finally, the good memories started outweighing the bad." Bucky paused. "I'm not...one hundred percent. Not even close. I don't know if I can be-"

"Don't say that-"

"It's the truth," Bucky said, voice raising sharply, in a tone Steve had never heard before. "It's the truth," he said again, softer. "I'm never going to be who I was. You said I was your best friend but I'm not who I used to be. If I'm coming with you, you've got to understand that."

"You're coming back?" Steve kept his voice even. He carefully ignored Bucky's fatalistic outlook on his recovery; they would deal with that later.

Bucky huffed out a laugh. "Of course that's the part you'd focus on," he muttered, shaking his head. "Yeah, Rogers. I'm coming back."

Steve tightened his hands around the cup, leaning over it. "Good. That's good, Barnes," he said. "I've missed you." A hand curled around the nape of his neck but before Steve could react, Bucky's forehead pressed against his in a forgotten intimacy that made Steve's chest ache.

"I've missed you too," Bucky said, the words barely a sound.

In the cold, dank diner, the fading heat from the coffee was replaced by Bucky's warmth. Steve reveled in it, feeling his shoulders ease, the tightness that he'd been carrying for what felt like forever finally loosening.