It's been two and a half weeks since Steve left for another mission. Normally I wouldn't have any idea what he's up to or where he is. But that was before I got a phone call from a blocked number.
"Hello, this is Anne." I answer in my professionally chill voice that I've been practicing. Because, yes, I practice answering the phone.
"Anne, this is Natasha," her usual detached tone sounds clearly through the line.
'Weird. She's never called me before.'
Wondering if this related to some sort of spy stuff, I resist the urge to ask, 'what's the sitch?'.
'Oh my goodness!
Drop it.
Nat is Kim Possible and Clint is Ron Stoppable! Which means that Bruce is Wade-
Knock it off.
-and Tony and Steve are the twins! Does that make me Rufus?
Pf! Please. You wish you were Rufus.
...I'm the just the guy at Bueno Nacho who sells them nacos, aren't I?
Obviously.
Gah! Stop being so distracted!'
"Hey Nat. What's up?"
"First of all, Steve's okay now."
'Great. Totally not anxious about what you have to say now.'
"He was hospitalized for a couple of days, but his accelerated healing took care of his injuries pretty quickly."
I sigh through my nose, frustrated that he didn't bother to tell me about being hospitalized. I'm gonna knock his head into a brick wall when I see him again...That sounds harsh but trust me, his head will break the brick before he even gets a headache.
"What happened this time?" I ask.
"I'm guessing you saw the three helicarriers blow each other out of the sky on the news the other day?"
My eyes widen. "That was you guys?"
"Long story, and one that Steve should tell you. That's actually why I'm calling. You need to make him talk to you about it."
"About the helicarriers?"
"Not exactly. He, well he encountered something from his past."
"Is that bad?..."
"Yes and no. He won't talk to me or anyone else about it, and I was with him for most of it. He really shouldn't be alone in this."
I'm confused â this is a natural state for me. "Steve won't talk to you â someone who can get the god of Mischief and Lies to spill his guts â but you think I can make him talk about it?"
"Yes," she answers bluntly.
"He never talks to me about mission stuff."
"This isn't mission stuff; it's personal stuff. I think it really got to him this time and he trusts you. He trusts you enough to tell you his past. He didn't tell any of the Avengers that himself, they read his file. He chose to tell you. That means something."
"I think you're forgetting that I figured out who his is and was on my own," I remind her, feeling slightly insulted.
"No." I can almost hear her shaking her head. "You figured out Captain America. He told you about Steve Rogers; who he was before, what made him a hero before the serum. Besides, you were friends with Steve before you even knew about Cap."
I sigh again, not even bothering to ask how she knew what all he told me. "I, maybe..." Honestly, I think he was just really lonely and it being me that he told was just a matter of proximity convenience. I don't bring up the fact that he's dating someone because I doubt he's told the team about Kate and I'm not going to spill the beans about that.
"Trust me on this. When you have to hide from the world who you really are and where you came from, opening up and sharing that part of yourself with someone is not something you do lightly. You two are friends first and that isn't something he has with any of the rest of us."
"Do you really think I can help him?" I ask, unsure.
"I do."
"Okay." I still don't know what good I can do, but even if it's just a little, I'll try my hardest. Steve deserves it.
"Good," Nat says quickly. "Because he should be home in a couple of hours. Do what you can." She hangs up.
"Okay then. Great. Thanks for the vote of confidence. It was good talking with you again. I agree, we should totally hang out sometime â our bond is unreal. Oh, what's that? You have to go? All-righty-then I'll talk to you later. Bye Nat, take care! Air kisses!" I say to my phone before tossing it on the couch.
'Only a couple of hours. I'd better get to work planning what I'll say...Pf, yeah, like that'll help!'
âoâ
The sounds of Steve's door being unlocked drifts into my apartment. Okay, I'm not some dog with supersonic ears...I may or may not have been sitting by my door in anticipation of his return. See? Much less creepy. I wait for him to go in and I give him a couple of minutes before I head over.
My timid knock shouldn't be loud enough for him to hear. But this is Captain America we're talking about. Steve soon answers, looking a bit surprised to see me. But mostly he looks tired. Probably more tired than I've ever seen him.
His smile is a shallow, sad thing that doesn't reach his eyes. "Hey, Anne."
I smile gently, awkwardly. "Hi Steve. I, um, heard you get home. I was wondering...I just made some fresh chocolate chip cookies. Wanna help me eat them?" Cookies are my social crutch, I'll admit it.
Steve's smile grows slightly, warming his eyes a little. "Chocolate chip, huh?"
"With toffee bits," I add with a wiggle of my eyebrow, hoping it's an incentive and not a put off.
"It sounds and smells great-" he hesitates and his smile slips a fraction. "-but I really don't know-"
I cut him off. "Nat called. She didn't tell me details, she said you should be the one to tell me, but it seems pretty obvious upon seeing you..."
"What's obvious?" His expression grows guarded at hearing that Nat talked to me.
"You need cookies." I place a hand on his arm. "They don't fix everything, but they certainly can help."
Steve looks unsure, drawing his eyes to the wall behind me as he thinks.
"What are you worried about? Losing your girlish figure?" I tease softly. "I bet you could eat three-dozen cookies and the only effect it would have would be making you smell delicious. Well, you might also feel a bit queasy. But I think your curves are safe." I say with what I hope is an encouraging smirk.
He looks back to me, his smile growing either because I'm a good influence or because I'm so funny- or because he's humoring me. My money is on the third option.
"Please, Steve?" I slightly beg, showing my earnestness.
His face softens as he nods. "All right. But I'm not eating three-dozen."
I grin back at him as we walk into my apartment. "That's good because I was hoping to have a couple myself."
I don't have a kitchen table, just a couple of stools at a counter.
"Try not to bust a chair this time, eh Tubby?" Last time he plopped himself onto a stool, one of the legs snapped. Turns out his super soldier serum also made him quite dense physically and my chair just couldn't handle it.
Steve raises an eyebrow and delicately sits down while I make a plate of cookies and a glass of milk. I set the plate and glass in front of him and pour a glass of milk for myself. "So, any good?" I ask as I move to the seat next to him and take a cookie from the plate in front of him.
He had just taken his first bite, so I wait for him to swallow. "A little salty, actually..."
"What? But I followed-"
He puts his hand up. "Joking. They're perfect, like always." His smile, now genuine if a little self-satisfied, brightens his blue eyes.
My jaw drops. "Mr. Rogers- oh no, can't call you that to your face." I internally guffaw at the absolute weirdness as I involuntarily imagine him in cardigans and singing songs about being neighbors. "Mr. America." I huff slightly to cover my laugh. "You behave or you can say goodbye to the rest of those cookies!"
Steve smirks and slides the plate closer to his chest. "Oh, I intend on getting rid of these myself."
"And here I thought you were everything polite! I see how it is now â foods before dudes."
He laughs out loud and I smile at the sound. It's been too long since I've heard that.
"Aren't you so glad to be back home with this?" I ask with a smirk, crossing my arms.
A weight seems to lift from his shoulders and a look of honest, happy contentment rests on his face. Out of nowhere, he pulls me off my chair and into a hug. This is weird. He's really not a huggy sort of guy. He usually only hugs me when there's tears involved or severe emotional distress.
Steve bows his head and almost nuzzles into my neck, rather like a puppy seeking comfort. I waste no time in hugging him back. Whatever happened on this last mission, Nat was right, it must've been really hard on him. My hand rubs small circles in his mid-back. I haven't gotten any better at the 'comforting' thing, but this seems to be a good move as I feel Steve's warm breath sigh into my neck.
"I am glad to be back home with this," he says softly and I can hear a small smile in his voice. "I've missed you. You, you make breathing easier." The last part he says so quietly that I'm sure I misheard him. "Also, when did you start smelling so nice? What is this, peach?" he asks teasingly as he straightens and pulls away from me.
I don't call him on his sudden switch in mood or topic. "Hey, I'm not the one who smells like apple pie. I mean really, don't you think that's a bit much on top of the Fourth of July birthday and the outfit? What's next? You gonna take up baseball and start dating Lady Liberty, Mr. All-American?" I poke his chest for emphasis.
He laughs. "Do I really smell like apple pie?"
I nod and grin. "At least you don't smell like an old person. Besides, I think it's perfect."
'Why, because it's hot and delicious?
Behave!'
We stay smiling at each other before I steel myself to turn the conversation.
"Steve," I hesitate. "You don't have to tell me what happened, but...are you at least okay...? Do I need to beat up some bad guy or an alien invader for you? I've heard I can be pretty intimidating whilst bathed in the blood of my enemies...well, mostly my blood, if we're going to be exact."
Some of the tiredness seeps back into his eyes. "I-I'm not sure what I am..." He stops himself short of saying anything else. With him on the stool and me standing in front of him, we're eye-to-eye.
"Steve," I say quietly, placing one hand on his shoulder. With the other I stroke the hair at his temple. My eyes glance about his face, taking in the worry lines on his forehead, the slipped smile on his lips. "I'm not an Avenger and you're not in your uniform. You don't have to be Captain America right now. You can be Steve, my friend. You can talk to me about anything. You know I'll listen."
He searches my eyes, looking torn. I think he's grateful, but there's something else too, maybe fear? I can't tell.
Steve stays quiet, so I say, "I want you to be honest with me, okay? Would you let someone in your unit isolate themselves when they needed help? You're stronger, better, healthier, when you're a part of a team. That isn't just a military thing. It's also an emotional, human being thing. If you can't talk to me about it, talk with Nat or Clint, heck, even Tony. But please, you don't have to be alone in this, whatever this is."
His jaw tightens and he hugs me again.
'I'm beginning to feel like a teddy bear. But I'm totally not complaining.'
After a moment he lets me go and pulls me to the couch. We sit and get comfy before he starts. "This gets a little, what would you call it... 'timey-wimey', so bear with me. You remember, a while ago now, you gave me that picture?"
"The old one? With, um, Bucky, your best friend?"
Steve nods. "That's him. Well, he's still alive."
"You found him? He didn't die in the war?" I ask, excited that he found his friend again.
"He didn't, but he didn't come home either."
"What do you mean? Did you go to Europe this week or something?"
"He was captured by Hydra, the organization I thought was destroyed before I crashed that plane. They're still in operation, actually. And so is he." Steve keeps eye contact with me, as usual, not looking away for a second.
"I-I don't understand...wouldn't he be, uh, really old now?"
"They must've put him in some sort of stasis, only taking him out when they needed him. He still looks the same as when he fell." He's clenching his jaw so tightly I'm surprised I don't hear his teeth grind.
I nod slowly before I realize- "Needed him to do what?" I ask painfully, not wanting an answer.
This is what makes Steve look to his hands on his lap. "They experimented on him. Made him strong and fast, like me. But they also brainwashed him; took his memories and his arm, gave him a metal one, a gun, and orders. He always was a good shot."
My heart drops and I put my hand on his. "Oh Steve..."
'They made him some sort of mindless machine..."
"Wait, you said they took his memories..." my stomach twists. "Did Bucky remember you...?"
Steve looks up, meeting my eyes and see my answer. "I'm so, so sorry..." I whisper. "Is there, is there any way you can get his memories back?"
The emotion I least expected to see- hope âflashes in his eyes. "He was sent to kill me." Steve starts, his voice cracking. "We were on one of the helicarriers before it went down. I told him we were friends, before the war, but he didn't remember â didn't believe me. He was about to kill me, but- but something I said made him stop." Excitement blossoms in his voice. "He, I could swear, he looked like he remembered. But then I fell and the helicarrier crashed into the river. I should've drowned. I should've died. But I was found alone on the shore."
My eyes widen. "He saved you. You made him remember and he saved you."
Steve looks so relieved that I came to that conclusion. "Yeah, I think so."
"So where is he now? Does SHIELD have him?" I ask, trying to think why Steve would be here when his thought-to-be-dead friend is elsewhere.
"I don't know. When search and rescue got there he was long gone. I don't think he would've gone back to Hydra once he remembered...but I don't know where he could go." His face falls back to the almost haggard look he had when I first saw him today.
"Well you have to find him. Of course you have to find him. Why don't you get Natasha to help you? She knows about him already and she has access to so many resources-"
"I can't tell her he survived. Not until I know his memory is back all the way. If SHIELD thinks he's still a threat..."
"You think they would kill him without giving him a chance?"
"Yes. I've been with them long enough to know they wouldn't risk it. He's extremely dangerous, deadly â at least, he was."
'I know SHIELD is no-nonsense, but that's heartless.'
"What about Tony? He doesn't work for SHIELD and he probably has just as much access to information as they do. He could keep it off the grid."
Steve raises an eyebrow. "But do you think he could keep it a secret? He isn't exactly discreet."
"Good point, but do you have another choice?" I ask softly.
"Yes, I can look for him myself. I've picked up a few things while I've worked for SHIELD. And I have another friend outside of the agency that I can trust." His jaw tightens in his determination.
I try not to sigh. That could take years, if he even can find Bucky. "Okay. But maybe, if that doesn't work after you've given it some time, you can ask Tony for help? I bet even Natasha would help you without telling SHIELD about it. She's your friend and, well, Bucky saved your life. Nat would agree that he deserves a chance. I'm sure of it. Please think about it?" I beg. He can't find Bucky on his own.
A bit of his determination slips. "I'll think about it."
I nod, not having expected him to agree to that at all. "Thank you, Steve. Is there anything I can do? I mean, I'm not a master spy or some billionaire tech-genius, but...um,- 'shoot. What do I have to offer?' -I'm scrappy?"
Steve turns his hand over to hold mine that was still resting on his. "This. This is good. Give me hope and another mind to bounce things off of; someone to talk to."
I squeeze his hand. "I can do that." (*zat)
Steve gives a small smile of appreciation before closing his eyes. "He has to remember," he whispers to himself.
"He will," I promise. "I mean, an evil organization programmed him to be some terminator type, but you rebooted him with the power of friendship. This is like a fairytale and it'll have a happy ending. He already remembered you." I remind him.
'Friendship really is magic.'
He nods, unconvinced, and we sit in silence, thinking.
"You know, not that I've ever been in any situation like this before, but if I was on the run from two separate intelligence agencies and some stranger told me that we were buddies over seventy years ago, making me question everything I thought I knew... I think I would need to see for myself what was true. When I had a hunch about you, I checked the archives at the library. Maybe he'll do something similar."
"A library? You think I should check libraries?"
I shrug. "Or monuments or museums or wherever they have any information on the soldiers who fought in WWII."
Something clicks with Steve. "And since he's expecting to be hunted, it'll be someplace with easy access, low security, and high enough traffic to blend in." He looks up, full of hope, and puts his hands on either side of my head. Before I can think how weird it is, he leans closer and kisses my forehead. "Thank you again, Anne. Pretty soon I'm gonna be in your debt." He hops up and walks quickly to my door.
"Um." I shake my head and chase after him. "You're going to start looking for him now, aren't you?"
Steve nods, bright with fresh enthusiasm. "I can't let Bucky wander alone. He needs help to remember and to stay out the grip of whatever's left of Hydra. He needs me and I won't let him down again."
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A/N: Okay, so this was another wee bit of a Debbie Downer of a chapter, but the next chapter... *wiggles eyebrows to up the intrigue* ...there's gonna be like, some fluff, and, yeah. I'm really good at words, you guys.
Also, Loki is Shego.
Also also, the fight choreography for 'The Winter Soldier' is so fantastic.
Also also also, I often wonder as I write these notes at the end:
1) Who actually reads them?
2) Do they put people off?
3) Marsh-wiggle. But to be fair, I frequently ponder marsh-wiggles regardless. Puddleglum as played by Tom Baker = a mind-splosion when I, years later, realized that he was the Fourth Doctor.
I swear I don't do drugs. Most of the time I can even pass for being completely normal as long as I keep my mouth shut.