Archive of Our Own

Bucky Barnes wouldn't say it was unusual to see a colored fellow enter the bar. To be fair he's not to be the judge of anything unusual. For example last year Steve was laid up in bed and Bucky was going between mother henning him and cursing the law cause if he showed any ounce of care more than necessary he'd be thrown into an asylum or killed. Or, his interest in men which is just enough to give him a proper heart attack whenever he leaves the house (no, he's not going to think about Steve right now. He's too busy sketching that dame he likes while spilling his drink on himself. Turns out super serum does not enhance ones ability to woo. Go figure).

Or the fact he was experimented on, got saved from Hydra who has crazy guns and has a leader with a red face. Skull? He doesn't care. The point is unusual is normal and always has been.

So a colored man walking into a bar is not unusual. Right now they are in London getting ready for their next op. There ain't no Jim Crow laws so all of the Howling Commandos are present and if anyone treats them wrong they get answered too and if Dum Dum is nearby the answer is with a whole lot of yelling and boot licking. So again, this isn't strange but Bucky Barnes can't look away from this guy because he's got confidence even though he can tell the man is lost. He hesitantly asks for a drink. Gets it, flinch's, but nods. He must be in the British aerial assault team. He's got the goggles and leather jacket for proof. What really gets Bucky is the smooth skin that is too tense for being in a bar. Dark eyes the cover every corner. The same as Bucky. He's seen combat. No newbie.

Bucky tips his whiskey back. Next to him, Steve says, "Our next target is in Austria. You ready for that?"

Bucky shrugs not taking his eyes off the man. "Am I ever ready?" The man starts scanning the room, doing a double take on Dum Dum. Bucky smiles at that. "I thought you said we needed a pilot for that though."

"We do," Steve hums, snapping his journal shut, "but Phillips said he had it under control."

The man's eyes finally land on Bucky who meets his gaze head on and the man about spits out his drink everywhere. Bucky would bet it would hit the bartender across the bar if he tried.

Steve hits his shoulder, "Buck, don't intimidate people. He's just having a drink."

The guy runs out and Bucky smirks, "Not now he isn't."

Steve smacks him again. Bucky fakes pain. And he forgets about the strange man promptly.

******************************

Phillips did find the pilot. Two really. One to fly them to camp and the other for their stuff. Something about keeping valuables separate. But he really doesn't care what that means. He doesn't sleep a wink the night before, dreaming of his crew getting turned to dust by super guns and Zola splitting him open like Frankenstein kept him up half the night.

So he doesn't really register the pilot until they're well up into the air and the boys are playing games of rummy. Steve is talking into the pilot who keeps jerking the plane like he's never flown it which gives Bucky anxiety until Steve calls to him, waving him over.

He notices the goggles and jacket, the gap tooth smile that doesn't quite reach the man's eyes.

"Sargent Barnes," Steve says all professional like, "meet Thomas Barnes." And Steve look so proud of that. "Now we have two Barnes'." Then to Thomas, "I hope you're not as much trouble as him."

And Thomas Barnes laughs as if he knows and boy isn't that insulting. "Oh, I could never." He glances at Bucky then sticks out his hand, "Nice to meet you, Sarg."

"Pleasure," Bucky says, shaking his hand, feeling uneasy as the man looks at his left arm. A sad look comes over his eye but it's so quick Bucky about misses it.

"Thank you, Thomas," Steve says, "for flying us."

"Man, that's the third time you said that," Thomas laughs, "if you say that one more time I think I'm going to have to kick you out of this plane."

Steve looks at Bucky and Bucky swears one day he'll melt from the sun of his smile, "I asked him if he wanted to join our merry band of fighters. He hasn't said yes yet."

"I haven't said no either," Thomas says. 

"Want to try and convince him," Steve asks with these puppy dog eyes that Bucky can't say no to even if they are in a larger body.

Bucky snorts, "Thomas, you'd be an idiot to join this crew. A bunch of nut balls we are."

The plane dips and Thomas curses before turning to Bucky, a big smirk on his face, "That a challenge, Sergeant Barnes."

And for a moment Bucky Barnes forgets who he is because this guy is looking at him like he knows him or Steve or anyone. And it burns his bones.

"Yeah," he says, nodding, feeling a sass he hasn't felt since coming to Europe, "Yeah, that's a challenge wise guy."

Thomas's hands grip the throttle tighter. His eyes glimmer. "Challenge accepted."

*********************************

Colonel Phillips is on board to having a pilot on their hands. Personally Bucky just thinks he doesn't want Stark in the line of fire because that would lead to a lot of problems. Frankly its insulting but the whole world is. Bucky tells that to Steve who gives him a funny look and says to have a little hope for humanity. He'll have hope when his bones stop burning and Zola stops haunting his nightmares.

So Thomas is part of the Howling Commandos now but every time someone tries to get a picture of him, he disappears. He's very anti-camera, anti- anybody looking at him too long.

He's a strange one and Dum Dum is not scared to voice it. Thomas always calls for late night guard duty, disappears at weird intervals and feeds the birds. He's weird. That's the end of the story and Bucky's too busy babysitting everyone to care about much else. That's up until the smart alec disappears in the middle of a fight.

Its a cargo van of Hydra soldiers and resources. Ten vehicles long going as fast as possible. Whatever it is, it's important stuff. Steve sticks Bucky high up, sniping as usual. He watches him through the scope, his chest squeezing. It's not that Bucky can't appreciate a good build. He can. But post-serum Steve is not pre-serum Steve and he misses his Steve. Or maybe it's just a chunk of him that's missing. Who knows anymore.

He scans every member of the crew, making sure each one is safe and doesn't need a snipe which Pinky does so he hits one out with a quiet shot trying not to show where he's at so he can get picked off too. And that's when he notices that Thomas is gone. And Bucky hits the ground because why is he always gone?

He shoots out a man running for Steve and Steve salutes him. Bucky salutes back pushing his butterflies away. 

A loud piercing whistle sounds somewhere close by. Bucky spins around nearly getting decapitated as a Hydra agent shoots, splintering the ground where Bucky was laying. He curses. Freaking soldiers and the-

The soldier kicks back the gun, aiming once more when the biggest bird Bucky has ever seen swoops in and rips into the guys facemask like it's a mouse. The guy yells as the bird pecks and scratches and claws. 

Bucky scrambles for his gun and shoots. The bullet hits home and the man falls. The falcon takes off, but not before landing in a tree... next to Thomas.

Bucky scowls, "How long were you up there? We need your help down here!"

"I did help," Thomas says before cooing at the falcon who takes a handful of feed from him before flying off. He hums, "Mice next time. Got it."

Bucky curses. Thomas smiles at him, tipping his head, "What? That old man brain not working fast enough for you?"

"Excuse me?" Bucky huffs. Old man. He's not even thirty thank you very much. 

Thomas flinches and Bucky sees worry cross his face. "Right, my bad, Sarg." He he flies down the tree incredibly fast before running down the ravine and rejoining the fight. 

That night his dreams consist of bloody skulls and Thomas turning into a falcon. Both are equally disturbing.

********************************

"I'm telling you, Steve," Bucky says as he and Steve sit under a canopy eating the worst slop known to man. "The man told that eagle to dive bomb Dum Dum. Just like he told that falcon to attack that Hydra soldier."

Steve puts down his bowl and really looks at him. To say Bucky about drowns in his gaze is unimportant. "Are you sure you're getting enough sleep, Buck?"

Steve knows how bad he sleeps. He hasn't slept a full night in months, night shift or not. Having Steve as a tent mate is... Hard. 

As Bucky is thinking about this that stupid falcon lands on his shoulder, picks up the one good thing on his plate, a fish caught by Gabe Jones and takes off back to Thomas who is laughing so hard the Nazis could hear him in Timbucktoo. 

"See!" Bucky curses and throws down his bowl. The devil must be overcoming him because he's ready to teach everyone that if one more beast steals his fish he's gonna kill them. "He took my fish, Steve! He told that bird to take my fish!"

"Bucky," Steve says, sounding exasperated, "it's a fish..."

Bucky marches forward, "It's my fish and I'm gonna-"

Then Steve picks him up and he's still yelling as Steve goes to the river and ducks him a couple times. They claim too much alcohol when they get back, but Thomas just smiles, batting puppy dog eyes just like Steve.

He doesn't apologize.

Bucky curses him.

***************************

After that Steve makes them work together. He says it's to make sure someone has Bucky's back but he knows what it is. It's what his Ma used to do when Becca and he didn't get along. Gave them a project and said work on it until it's done and you can't leave the room till you do.

So Thomas hides in an alcove with Bucky, messing with a large hunk of metal that he's been toting around the entire time Bucky has known him. It sparks and he curses. 

"You're going to get us cought," Bucky hisses, watching Steve as he and the others enter the Hydra base. Shooting starts immediately.

Thomas snorts, "You're muzzle is sticking out. They'll see that before they see me."

Bucky has to relax his hands so he doesn't accidentally pull the trigger. After a long silence and a few explosions, Thomas pats his leg. "Hey, I have an idea."

"If it has anything to do with that Falcon, I want nothing to do with it."

He curses again and shoves Bucky's leg, jostling the gun slightly, "Listen, Grumpy the dwarf-"

"Hey!"

"This could save us a load of time on safety procedures and be especially good if any enemy infiltrates camp."

Bucky huffs, "Listen, Tweety-"

"How the crap do you know about Tweety?" 

Bucky glares at him and his stupid goggles and his stupid coat. "I have a sister who writes me junk mail, Barnes."

Thomas snorts, his smile so big it could eclipse the sun. "She writes you stuff about the Looney Tunes."

"She's twelve!"

"I call BS on that."

"What does that even mean?"

"Listen, listen, listen," he lays down on the ground next to the Bucky making the space smaller than necessary. "Whistles. Specific whistles."

"Let me guess," Bucky says, cocking the gun and taking out a sniper on the roof, "like a bird."

It's supposed to be a insult but Thomas goes the opposite route. "Of course like a bird. How many times have birds come in and saved our skins."

"Or stole my food!"

I see multiple targets, take them out all in the time it takes Thomas to say, "Wouldn't you like to tell Redwing to stop?"

And Bucky looks at him , because yes he'd love to tell off that bird no matter how petty it is. And Thomas looks downright amused. 

"You're just going to make a fool out of me."

"Oh, you'll definitely look like a fool. But it'll help us in the long run."

Bucky scowls. Then the base explodes and the jeep comes running out of the inferno. Thomas grabs his metal and they both jump into the jeep as it passes below them. James barley slows so Bucky ends up falling on his back where a loud crack makes his shoulders throb. But Thomas... He lands as if he has done it a million times before. Do they teach soldiers how to land like that in the Air Force? 

Later that night as Bucky lays in the dark tent he and Steve share, listening to Jacques and Thomas talk outside, Steve says, "So. Are you and Thomas okay now?"

Bucky curses at him and turns over. Steve laughs so loud Dum Dum comes to make sure everything is okay. Distantly, Bucky hears Thomas laughing, too.

*********************************

The first time he tries it, 'Redwing' about pecks his eyes out. Bucky gives Thomas a good talking to before he says that he did it wrong. They spend the majority of that night watch whistling at each other from across the camp. One whistle for 'no, that's wrong' and two for 'good enough'. It disturbs everyone and Bucky can't help but laugh every time Gabe comes out of his tent thinking the birds are up.

From there it gets easier. And Thomas is right. Bucky hears him whistle on the battlefield and he knows where he is, what he and Steve need and if Bucky's in danger. And he whistles back. Thomas says he sounds enough like a bird to keep him undercover but it still unnerves him every time he does it.

But then they just start doing it and it becomes an engraved part of Bucky's mind. So when he's finishing a debrief with Colonel Phillips while Thomas has been out blowing caravans with Steve and Jim, he hears he's come back with a long whistling and two short. Bucky returns it with three quick ones without even thinking. And Phillips gives him a look.

"You turning into a bird, Sergeant?"

"No, sir," Bucky says, "Barnes and I created a system to help us guard the troops, sir."

Philips raises a brow. "Get out of my face, Sargeant. And if I hear you singing like a canary outside my tent again, I'll demote you, got that."

Buckys half tempted to, but he nods anyway, "Yes, sir."

Outside the check in, Steve stands waiting for his turn. He smiles at Bucky and Bucky swallows hard. 

"You and Thomas have that system down to a tee. Maybe you should teach the rest of us now that you're trained."

For some reason, that causes something bitter in Bucky to well up. He shrugs, "It took me a while, Steve."

"A couple weeks ain't much, Buck. It would do us a lot of good if we were to get separated again."

"No," Bucky hisses before he realizes what he's saying. Steve looks at him in shock. His face mirrors Bucky's feelings cause he's right but this thing... this stupid bird banter he has going on with Thomas... he doesn't want it to end yet. And maybe it has something to do with no time for fun, or not enough time with Steve so he needs a new friend but that doesn't supersede another life. He sighs, "You have to talk to Thomas. He's a better teacher than I am."

As Bucky moves to walk away, Steve grabs his shoulder, "Buck, are you alright?"

No. We're at war, Steve, when is anything okay. But Bucky doesn't say that. Instead he pats Steve's hand and smiles weakly.

"I'm okay, Stevie. Just need more sleep is all."

He smiles weakly, too, "Don't we all."

*************************************

Steve and Thomas are friends. There's no doubt about that. Bucky watches from the food line as Thomas and Steve sit at the fire talking about who knows what and it's not just Bucky that makes Steve smile anymore. It's strange, watching Steve react to Thomas the same way he reacts to Bucky. And that rips him in two. Because Bucky knows he's not being replaced but it just goes to show Steve definitely doesn't feel the same way Bucky does. 

Gabe brings out some care package treats his family sent. Potato candy. Bucky whistles to Thomas asking if he and Steve want any and the look Thomas gives him sends Bucky into a series of horrific cackles that disturb the camp and Philips yells at him to be quiet. Bucky grabs three and hustles over to them. Steve's eyes light up when he sees the carefully wrapped candy pieces. 

"Potato candy!" He exclaims, grabbing his piece and shoving it in his mouth. Thomas looks on in horror.

"I legit thought I heard you wrong. I guess jokes on me."

Sometimes Thomas will say things that don't make sense like 'legit' or, 'that's dope' or 'sugar honey ice tea!' It adds to Bucky's list of why he's odd. "What?" He says, eating is own piece. It's not as good as his Ma's but how could it be, "Never had potato candy before?"

Thomas looks at his hand like it might bite him. "No thanks."

Oh, this is too good. "What, scared of a little potato and powdered sugar?"

Thomas grinds his teeth. Steve nudges him. "They really are good."

He glares at Bucky. Bucky smirks at him. The man has been a picky eater ever since he got here. Buckys surprised he's not just bone yet. Thomas looks at Steve who is trying to steal the last candy so Bucky has to hold it higher. Bucky raises a brow and Thomas scowls in retaliation. And finally, finally, Thomas takes it. And Bucky barely hears him utter a disturbing sentence before he eats it, "I've drank snake guts. Potato candy won't kill me."

"Drank snake guts," Bucky says, exchanging a look with Steve. He just shrugs.

Thomas eats it, flinching but eventually releases the tension making him look like a spring ready to pop. He chews slowly, brows furrowed. "Good?" Bucky asks.

"Shut up," he growls back.

Bucky laughs and sits down so he has a good view of the two men beside him. And Steve looks at the two of them, a small smile on his lips. It's a wonderful evening until Hydra comes and straps Bucky down, poking him with needles after needle until his veins burn.

He wakes up to Thomas shaking his shoulders. Steve is asleep beside him. The night is warm. It's not winter yet. 

Thomas is working on that hunk of metal again. He whistles lightly, two short, three long. Are you okay?

One extra short. No. 

Thomas slides down to the dirt even though the log has to be more comfortable and he starts talking. He talks about his sister and brother. About his nephews. How he wants a better world for them. He talks about friends he's lost to war. He doesn't specify. Bucky doesn't ask. He talks about how screwed up the world is and how being a hero is hard.

"A hero?" Bucky asks him, "We're soldiers."

"Why can't we be both." 

Bucky doesn't argue with that cause Thomas is right. How many soldiers are out there not like Steve and yet don't get half of what they deserve. Steve always rants about it. Bucky just wants to get out of here alive. Being a hero is the last thing on his mind. 

Bucky whistles two short, three long. 

Thomas whistles back. One extra short. 

Bucky whispers, "Steve wants us to teach the others this system so we can keep each other safe better."

Thomas snorts, "A lot of good that'll do you on a train."

"What does a train have to do with anything?"

Thomas shakes his head, stands. Bucky grabs his wrist with his left hand and the man jumps so hard one would think but he had hit him. 

"Thomas-"

"Dugan is next for watch. Call Redwing if anything happens."

He jerks his arm from Buckys grip, grabs the hunk of metal and goes off into the dark. 

For once, Thomas's reaction really bugs him. He stares at his left hand. He does so for the rest of the night. 

*********************************

The next time they are all in London, Steve's lady friend is a lot more receptive to him. After the debacle with the shield and some lady he kissed Steve has been nervous about his position with her.

But she shows up at the little bar they hang at and Bucky ends up watching her and Steve's heart eyes all night. She's pretty. There's no argument there. He just wishes she'd use it on someone else.

"Hey, there, Bucky bear!"

He turns to Thomas, definitely not in the mood for his shenanigans. "What are you talking about, Barnes- oh, my-"

Thomas grins at him as he slides into the stool next to Bucky. In his hand is a small stuffed bear that looks like Bucky if he were the beast. "What the hell is that?"

"It's you," Thomas grins, all teeth, "Captain America's best friend made into a stuffed bear."

Bucky curses. Thomas laughs. "Get rid of that thing. Who knows who'll see that."

"Oh, no," Thomas says, sounding way too cheery, "I'm keeping this. This is going home with me. It will adorn my bed for the rest of my life."

Bucky curses at him again before Thomas pats his shoulder, "Don't worry. They made one of Steve, too."

At that Bucky snorts and his attention returns to the man in discussion, who's watching Carter walk out for her next meeting at HQ. He takes a long drink of his whiskey. He needs a smoke. 

"You should tell him you love him."

Bucky chokes and whiskey goes out his nose and all over the bar. And he coughs and his eyes water and it goes so long he's sure half the bar thinks he's dying.

"Jeez," Thomas huffs, slapping his back, "if I knew you would kill yourself over it, I would have put it better."

"Bucky!" And Steve is by him, slapping his back so hard it will bruise. Bucky pushes him back, wheezing he is okay but Steve only gives up when Dum Dum gets into a fight and he has to go stop that. 

So as Bucky slowly regains his breath, Thomas leans over and continues, "Sorry, but I really didn't know how to bring it up. Look, I had a friend that didn't get the chance. To say how he felt, you know. Even though he knew it would have broken his heart, he really wishes he would have done it."

Bucky glares at him, pushes him back and for the first time he realizes how solid Thomas is under his jacket. "Shut up. I'm not a-"

"Don't lie to me, Sarg," Thomas says, serious and cold, "you do a good job hiding it and I'm not going to uncover a friend. But you should know Steve freaking Rogers isn't either." He takes a long sip of his whiskey and eyeballs the cigarettes Bucky pulls out and really wants to throw at his head, "we'll talk about that another time. But think about it. If something happened would you be able to live with him not knowing."

Bucky wants to slug him. He wants to throw him into that fight so he gets hit instead of Steve. How dare he. "I'm not-"

He whistles a tune and a drunk Jacques starts singing about Tweety bird. He whistles some song Bucky has never heard. Something way to everywhere to be from his dancing days. It must be new. Thomas gets to go to town a lot more than Bucky gets to. 

Right now Bucky can't get a word out because his throat is filled with acid and rocks. He takes out a cig and puffs it as fast as he can cause what does Thomas know. He's gone dancing with every dame on his block, on Steve's block, on every block in between his block and Steve's block. He made sure anything that could get him and Steve killed or put in an asylum was pushed down and covered in six feet of dirt. It would be a lie to say some of those girls didn't interest him. They did. Dot. Marge. Emily. There's a few he tried to go steady with but Steve was... is... Everything. He has been since he met him trying to play marbles on the blacktop. Bucky took care of him when his dad was being the worst man to walk the earth. Bucky helped him take care of his mom and he took care of Steve when Steve was all alone.

And in a way... Steve took care of him, too. When his dad died Steve gave him a place to run to when Ma and Becca and all of them were too much. When the war started Steve gave him hope despite wanting to jump right in like some heroic psychopath.

Bucky doesn't rightly know when he fell for Steve. It's a blur of taking care of each other and their families. All he knows is that he could never let anyone know because he knew a kid who was killed because he kissed a boy. He had nightmares about it for weeks. And now this guy from down south, who would get more than strung up for something like that, says go for it even if he knows deep down Steve will never reciprocate. Because Steve found his girl and her name is Peggy Carter.

And yet... He'll regret it if he never says it. Thomas is right there. If he dies tomorrow... Bucky groans and slams his cup on the counter and leaves. Thomas will be the end of him.

*************************************

It's not until after they take out one of the Hydra's top bases that Bucky finally gets the courage to speak. They all got beat up. Steve and Thomas the most. Their so much alike. Sacrificing themselves for the greater good and all that nonsensical stuff. It's a horror to realize there's two of them. Even more of a horror to realize that he cares about both of them and their actions are going to give him a heart attack.

So he's laying in the crap sack of a tent, staring at the metaphorical ceiling when Steve crawls in grunting and huffing away.

"You okay?" Bucky asks. 

"Fine," he says, slumping down onto his sleeping bag, "a little soar. Nothing a good night's sleep won't fix."

Bucky hums. "Yeah. You and that goop really are something."

Steve laughs then goes quiet. Bucky's trying to think of something, anything, a way to breach the subject. But Steve starts talking first, "You know, Thomas seems like he's something out of science fiction book."

Bucky snorts, "What do you mean by that?"

"The way he talks, the way he acts, it creeps everyone out. Gabe says he lived in the south for a while and he said he never met anyone who acted like Thomas."

Bucky smiles. "So what? You think he's an alien?"

"No," Steve says immediately, "he's just... Odd. Like you and me. I suppose that's why we all fit together so well."

Bucky curses. He really is going to have to bring this up. "Yeah. Maybe." He swallows hard and his voice shakes when he speaks. Every instinct in him is telling him to hide. That he's disgusting and Steve will be disgusted. That Jacques, Dum Dum, Jim, all of them will turn him over and he'd get put away. But if he dies tomorrow... Damn Thomas. Damn him to hell.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

He clears his throat. He hates Thomas for putting this in his head. Maybe he'll tell Redwing to poop in his dinner tomorrow. It would probably backfire. The bird would think he meant his own dinner instead.

"Remember that day when I asked Dot out. And you got mad at me cause you liked Dot?"

Steve's smile is audible, "She was so upset because I third wheeled your date. Never really endeared her to me, did it."

"No, not really." He doesn't tell him she thought he was a leech. Telling him the truth is going to be hard enough as it is. "I never told you the reason I asked her out."

"I always assumed you were mad at me about something."

Bucky shakes his head, even though Steve can't see him. That day lives so clearly in his head. Sixteen, young and stupid. Thinking he can bend life into exactly how he wants it. "No. I was trying to make you jealous."

"Well mission accomplished, Buck."

"Not of me."

A deadly silence fills the tent. Bucky holds his breath, waiting for the ax to fall. Because how could it not. Peggy in that red dress comes to mind and he remembers thinking how pretty she is but so is Steve and that's what kills him just a little.

Finally Steve's voice cuts the air and it's not the whip Bucky was expecting it to be. "Buck... how long.."

He can't even get it out. But neither can Bucky. "I don't know. It just kind of happened I guess."

Bucky's going to throw up all over their tent and they're going to have to sleep outside. Wouldn't that be the highlight of the night.

Steve says nothing again for a long time. Then...finally he says, "I think, maybe, somehow, I knew." Bucky doesn't know if that makes him feel better or worse. Tears prick his eyes. They would do anything for each other. It's a given. Always has been. But now there's a reason behind it. Not just brotherhood and childhood friendship. Not for Bucky. And now Steve knows. 

Steve exhales shakily. "I'm sorry, Buck."

Bucky swallows hard, "Me, too."

Then, as if the tension in Bucky has imploded, he jolts out of his sleeping bag and stumbles out into the dark. Steve calls his name. He doesn't listen. The embers of the fire have died down, but Thomas still sits working on that hunk of metal beside the dying fire pit. Bucky forces himself to walk to him, debating on whether he wants to hit or yell or push. But all he does is stand beside Thomas, heaving heavy breathes. 

He looks up. Bucky can't see his expression.

"I hate you."

Bucky hear's him swallow. He needs water. "I know."

Bucky slumps down next to him. What did his Pa always say? Real men don't cry. Well Bucky's not a real man cause when he's down sharing ground with the man who started this, he sniffs and heavy tears slide down his face. Steve doesn't chase him. Thomas doesn't push him away. So they sit there until it's Jacques turn and then he finally goes back to his tent.

Steve is fast asleep. 

********************************

Bucky would like to say things are horrifically awkward after that but they're not. Everything is the same. Steve and he joke around, laugh, smile, yell at the team. Eat food with Thomas and get into fights with Dum Dum. Steve says nothing. He doesn't look at him differently. He never pushes.

Bucky is grateful but simultaneously disappointed.

Heartbroken might be the right word. That doesn't really show but the day they are ambushed outside of the last Hydra base on the map it makes a slight appearance. They saw the Howlies coming and Bucky didn't raise the alarm soon enough.

And Thomas is missing.

Bucky curses as Steve, Gabe and he hide behind a tipped over tank that's half on fire while bullets fly over their heads. The commandos around him are yelling, firing back. Bucky punches his gun, hoping it'll unjam itself but it doesn't. 

"Gabe, cover me," Steve yells, before jumping on top of the tank and throwing the shield. Gabe also jumps up and fires while Steve comes back down, no shield in hand. 

"You know, I'm glad we had that talk a few nights back!" Steve shouts, arm outstretched and waiting for the shield. 

"You're bringing this up now!" Bucky hisses as dirt rains over them. He bangs his gun against the tank tire. 

"Look, I may not feel the same-"

"Gabe is standing right there!"

"But you're my best friend. I'm going to support you any way I can!"

"Will you shut up!"

Bucky whistles a long loud whistles, beginning the whistle version of Morse code for sos. There is no reply. But Gabe does stop shooting and curses. The shield has still not returned. Some Nazi in armour probably grabbed it. 

"What is it?" Steve asks. 

"It's Thomas," Gabe says, "he's got your shield. And he's running like the devil."

"What?" Steve and bucky both say, struggling to get up. They look over the tank and indeed from the base comes Thomas, holding the shield and running as more soldiers come after him. One yells to get him for capture. Something about Schmidt wanting him for experimentation.

"Cover him," Steve yells. A bomb goes off somewhere. Then the blue guns start firing. And Thomas... Thomas uses the shield. It's not clumsy. It doesn't weigh him down when he throws it. It's graceful. Just like Steve. Bucky can do nothing but watch as Thomas throws the shield, flips, catches it and throws it again. When a soldier gets too close, he takes out a knife from his boot, fights hand-to-hand until the shield returns and he uses it. At some point, he gets a hand on one of the guns and he manages to shoot out two more targets and a wall of the base.

That's when all hell breaks loose. Dum Dum and James run in and set charges. Steve runs out, so Bucky follows him. Thomas sees them coming, so he throws the shield, bouncing it off upturned tanks and soldiers until it makes it back to Steve.

"How did he do that?" Bucky says as he swips a gun from a fallen soldier and starts shooting. "None of us can do that. Just you. He's never even held that shield."

"I don't know. We can ask him later. Just move!"

So they fight. Bucky blasts so many soldiers it starts to make him sick. Thomas continues to fight hand in hand, covering Bucky, occasionally shooting someone or something. He's strong. He takes and gives hits like he's been doing it for far longer than this war has been going on. He spins, twists, pushes and pulls until Steve's yells for them to run and they scatter as the base is reduced to rubble.

On the way home, Bucky falls asleep and his dreams are haunted by both Steve and Thomas, fighting side by side as if meant for it. And that shield looks just as good on Thomas's arm as it does on Steve's

******************************

They're back at the bar again, this time trying to decide their next move. The bases are gone. They're winning. And Schmidt is becoming desperate. Philips wants Zola in his grasp and if informants are correct, he'll be on a train with important components in the next two weeks. Timing is still unknown.

Bucky sits at the bar, drinking, Philips on his mind. How he mentioned Zola and the train and how Thomas immediately looked like he wanted to throw up. He has not been well. He keeps trying to convince Phillips to get Zola another way or to put some tracker on the train and blow it up when it gets to the hidden base. He keeps getting odd looks for that. And Phillips is starting to get suspicious.

"If the man keeps disappearing during a fire fight that usually means he's up to no good. I bet my hide he's a spy, Sargent."

"No," Bucky had argued because Thomas being a spy is preposterous. "He can't even shut his mouth half the time. If he's a spy he's really not that good at it."

"A big mouth does not make or break a spy, Sergeant. Now get back to your post and let me deal with our little friend."

And Bucky left angry. Thomas is not a spy. A jerk, yes. Annoying as hell, yes. A spy, no. Bucky won't believe it. 

As if sensing Buckys thoughts concerning him, Thomas appears beside him, sighing uneasily. There's a new bar keep tonight. One who isn't friendly to anyone not white. 

"Hey," Thomas says, "how are you doing? You okay?"

Bucky shrugs. "I should be asking you that. You're the one jumpy about the next mission."

Thomas shakes his head. "There has to be a better way to get Zola if Philips is so hellbent on getting him. The train is too risky."

"Yeah well unless you have one of your futuristic trackers on you your plan is not happening."

"You're changing the subject."

Bucky sighs. He knows what Thomas is getting at and it takes a lot in him not to look over at Steve and tear up. 

"I loved him for a long time, Tommy," Bucky says. He sees Thomas's eyebrows raise at the nickname and Bucky chalks up the strange twist to the alcohol. "I don't think it's going to go away anytime soon."

The bartender comes by, eyeing Thomas. Bucky taps his glass down hard. "Another. For the both of us."

The bartender says nothing, just glares and goes to refill the glasses. He's lucky. Bucky wasn't going to hold back if he did say something. "I get it," Thomas says, "I loved someone a long time ago. Got killed. Flying accident. You never really forget your first love. The pain just... gets to be bearable."

Bucky finally looks at Steve and his heart aches. He's laughing with Jim, getting ready to leave for the base. Some extra planning or something. Making sure everything is good for their trip to the Alps.

"I know he couldn't love me back," Bucky says, "I suppose something in me just couldn't bear to believe it." And the pain in him roars, so the second bartender puts the drinks down, Bucky throws his back and stands, "I'm going outside. If Steve comes by tell him I said bye."

Then he's running out, trying not to choke on his bleeding heart. 

The air is crisp, cold. Bucky inhales a big whiff of it before cracking open his cigar case that he keeps in his boot and striking it on the back of the case. He inhales and holds in the smoke until he's dizzy then exhales. He moves around to the back of the building where the street lamps dim and he can see the stars better.

And he thinks about Thomas. About that hunk of metal he hauls around. His weird sayings and how he thinks he's from War of the Worlds. And Bucky must be halfway drunk because for a moment he believes Thomas is an alien. That hunk of metal is a part of his ship. The reason Phillips doesn't bust him is because he keeps disappearing to get stuff from his ship. And the reason Thomas doesn't fly planes well is because their too premature for his intellect. Thomas the alien, Steve the super soldier and Bucky. Messed up Bucky. Who can't stop dreaming of evil scientists and death. What a trio.

He doesn't notice them until they're surrounding him. And he recognizes them as the group who was down the bar from him, talking in whispers with the bartender.

Ah. They must have noticed his interactions with Thomas. What does Tommy like to call them? Racist baboons. No, that last word is something else. It doesn't matter. One lunges and he delivers a good right hook before the second comes in and he about takes thier eye out with his cigarette when he hits with his left. Its not a good fight for someone like Bucky who is drunk and two seconds from falling over. He shouldn't have had that last drink.

He takes out two before the other three get a hold of him, draws him to his knees with a low blow and then their fists are in his hair, across his cheeks, trying to get him to open his mouth to pull out his teeth.

Bucky can't help but wonder if this isn't just about Thomas, but everything he tries to hide from. That maybe they saw how he looked at Steve and decided he's to disgusting to keep on this Earth.

And for the first time as they're reaching into his mouth with a dirty hands, Bucky's glad Thomas told him to tell Steve because if they leave him for dead at least he told him he loved him no matter what that means.

He hears something that sounds suspiciously like one of Schmidt's guns than the man in front of him gets ripped away, his hand being yanked from Bucky's mouth and the two on either side of him gasp. Bucky sways, eyes spinning, but then he sees the wings. Big metal wings that slap one of the guys so hard he flies out of the alley. The other runs, yelling for help. 

And there's Thomas, the wings strapped to him, glowing in bright purple light as the metal on his back hums and allows him to float a few feet off the ground.

Bucky remembers Ma always said angels wore white and had wings as soft as clouds. But he doesn't think he believes that anymore. Angels have wings that put Steve's shield to shame. Angels wear leather jackets with fur collars that bring out beautiful skin and goggles that cover bright eyes.

Thomas lands beside him, grabs his arms and hauls him up. "They're going to get the police. We gotta go. Hold on."

Then his arms are around Bucky's waist and they take off. His stomach lurches and he almost screams, wrapping his appendages around Thomas. He burrows his face into Thomas's coat that smells of sweat and gun powder. Despite the smell he burries his face further in as Thomas flies higher and higher, up, up, up into the night sky. Buckys hands clutch the brown leather so tightly he fears the jacket may rip. But Thomas's arms stay around him, keeping him close as they draw nearer to the moon and the stars. Is he abducting Bucky? Is he to become a science experiment for aliens rather than Nazi's now? 

"Thomas!" Bucky shouts as his hands grow numb from the freezing, painful wind that wipes through his hair, cold and biting. 

"I got you, Buck. We're okay. It's okay."

Then he's turning a horizontal and Bucky has to hold on tighter as he glides over London. He's hyperventilating and the soft cooing in his ear only helps marginally. He throws his head back... and when Bucky sees the city lights so far below, he feels sick. He has to look up at the stars that seem to be clearer up here than they ever were down there. And as his adrenaline dies, and the alcohol becomes prevelent again, he realizes just how beautiful it is. He's flying through the sky. A man without a plane, looking at the stars. It's as if he's flying through London, a free bird. No war. No nightmares. Just sky forever and ever. He can't look down. It would break the spell and he'd fall. He'd fall and the earth would be his enemy. 

"Thomas..." He says, almost breathless. 

"I'm gonna land soon, Buck." He squeezes him. And the warmth of his hands sinks through Bucky's jacket to his sides. 

Then the light catches the metal wings and Bucky has a good view of how beautiful they are. How they are attached by some propeller on Thomas's back and how easy they glide through the air. Bucky tries to reach out but he gets sick when Thomas turns and quickly tucks his hand back between the jacket and metal. Nope, no touching the wings right now.

"You're not abducting me to take me to your space ship, right?" Bucky asks, his voice disappearing into the wind. 

Thomas laughs and Bucky feels it against his chest, vibrating it. He hasn't been so close to a man like this, so intimately ever. "Man, if I was an alien, you'd be the last person I'd abduct." He clutches Bucky impossibly tighter before saying into his ear, "Hold on."

Thomas dives and Bucky screams as the ball in his stomach goes to his throat. He swears Thomas is going to kill them, let them splat on the street before he pulls up and lands on the roof of a building just as gracefully as he landed on the jeep only stumbling a little when Bucky's weight drags him down. 

Bucky let's go and falls, letting his thick blue coat save him from scrapes and bruises. Thomas about slips and falls but manages to catch himself on his knees. His wings fold in and disappeared into his back, into the hunk of metal he's been working on since he joined the Commandos.

That big hunk of metal has been holding a pair of wings this whole time. Wings. The shield. His wild words. Nothing is adding up.

Thomas leans over him, hands reaching out to touch his face before thinking better of it. "You don't look good, man. You're bleeding all over the place. Can you even see me?"

To be honest, Bucky's one eye is completely swollen shut and the other is teary from the wind. He shakes his head, "I can see you."

"We need to get you to a doctor or back to base. I don't have any tools to help you out here."

"You fly, can throw a shield and are a medic. Who are you?"

"I also talk to birds but that's not important."

Bucky rolls his eyes. "One thing at a time, Tweety."

And Thomas smiles. It's the first time Bucky really registers the gap in-between his teeth, really looks and finds it endearing. 

Somewhere below them, a song starts. A tune from the States and Bucky can't help but wonder where they landed that American songs are playing. 

The other night, dear

As I lay sleeping 

I dreamed I held you in my arms 

But when I woke, dear, I was mistaken

And I hung my head and I cried

Thomas hauls him to his feet. His head spins and Bucky can't decide if it's from the hits or from the alcohol. As the song goes on to its chorus, he does a little shimmy and Thomas laughs. "The hell are you doing?"

"Dancing," Bucky says, thumping his feet. 

"Man, I can't decide if you have a concussion or are flat out drunk."

"Me neither."

He can barley see Thomas as he grabs at his jacket trying to find his hand. "Dance with me, Tweety bird."

"Lord, you really are drunk. Never thought I'd see the day..."

Steve rolls through his head. So does Dottie and Sarah and all the girls he's danced with. All the men he snuck out with. Steve and he dancing in his apartment under the guise of trying to teach him and his two left feet. Then Thomas who he's never had a dance with. And really Bucky doesn't want to think about it too much. He doesn't want to try and figure out what angels and gapped teeth and dancing could mean. 

"Come on, angel wings, give me a dance. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity."

"Oh my lord..."

Thomas is laughing. Bucky can hear it but he's too focused on getting his hand intertwined with Thomas's before he tries to do a little swing and he just about falls over.

I'll always love and make you happy

If you will only say the same

But if you leave me to love another 

You'll regret it all someday

"I do not remember this song going like this," Thomas huffs as Bucky finally gets him to move his feet even though he's just as bad, if not worse than Steve.

Thomas trips and Bucky tries not to groan, "You don't remember a lot of things, Mr. Barnes. Who doesn't have potato candy at least once in their life. Who says things like legit and cowabunga. You're a walking question mark."

Thomas tries to pull back but Bucky immediately locks his arm around Thomas's waist. He shakes his head, "How much did you drink before I got there?"

Bucky snorts and twirls him. 

You told me once, dear, you really loved me

That no one else could come between

But now you've left me and love another 

You have shattered all my dreams

Bucky slides in between Thomas's arms and he stumbles at the weight. His jacket leaves something to be desired in regards to warmth but his collar makes up for it with warm fur and it's next to warm skin. It still reeks but it's Thomas and Bucky's pretty sure he's going to pass out soon. He encircles Thomas in his arms, keeping him close. 

"Sounds like me and Steve, huh," Bucky slurs.

Thomas sighs, "This song is stupidly depressing."

As the song comes to an end, Bucky says, "I was mad for a while because you told me to tell Steve. But I'm happy you did. I'm sad but maybe I can move forward with things now."

"Open, flirty, and clingy. Drunk Bucky Barnes takes the cake."

The tune disappears but Bucky keeps humming. Even as Thomas picks him up bridal style, his beautiful wings extended. As they leave the ground, Bucky presses his lips into Thomas's ear and says, "Thank you, Thomas. I think maybe one day I could love you."

Bucky feels him swallow against his shoulder. "Don't say it unless you mean it."

If Bucky were a little less drunk he might have picked up on the inflection in Thomas's voice as if the words were said before. But he doesn't and he really can't figure out something to reply with so instead he sings in Thomas's ear all the way back to the base. 

You are my Sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy, when skies are gray

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you

Please don't take my Sunshine away

**********************************************

The morning after the whole incident, Steve does everything he can to keep Bucky in his bunk which doesn't help his aching heart. Steve states that Thomas had brought him in half asleep. When Bucky asked if Steve saw Thomas's wings, he gets a confused look and asks if Bucky needs to see a medic. 

No wings. When Bucky is finally able to get out and past the horribly big Steve, he notices that the hunk of metal is still being tinkered with. And Bucky is the only one who's knows what it actually is. Thomas acts like he has no idea what Bucky's talking about when he confronts him but he can tell Thomas is lying. His smile says too much. 

And Bucky supposed that's where the real trouble begins. Thomas starts avoiding him. He whistles, sure. Communication hasn't stopped, but Bucky catches him looking at him before he turns and runs as far as he can from him. And it's not like Bucky's innocent either.

When he looks at Steve, he hurts. He can only look at the sun so long before being blinded. When he looks at Thomas, he notices everything. How he rises so early in the morning to run around the camp. How he likes fish. How he lights up around birds and most annoyingly, how he looks at Bucky likes he's seen that disgusting rot and darkness inside him and decided he still likes him anyway. That maybe he likes the darkness, too. The same darkness Steve seems to want to ignore and that has become a point of contention for them because Bucky knows he's not right and Steve won't admit it. Steve wants it gone but Bucky can't get rid of it. He couldn't rip it out if he tried. 

That's when he and Thomas see each other the most. When the dark gets them. When they have nightmares and they're the only ones awake to see the sunrise. When Bucky's nerves tighten and his veins burn and Thomas holding him down is the only thing keeping Bucky from burning in an inferno. Or when Thomas sees some of the young soldiers heading out for the first time and he has an itch to tell them to go back. He never does though.

They sit together then and let the war wash over them until the light comes up and Thomas runs. They're so far undercover that the front lines look like specks in the distant past. And Bucky feels sick knowing young kids are getting blown up and killed while they sit and wait for orders to go capture Zola. Bucky supposes that's why Thomas doesn't run then. Because sometimes the darkness can't be handled alone. 

And looking back maybe that's where it all starts. Buckys ache for Steve doesn't really fade. But Bucky can't control how his darkness feeds off of Thomas's light. And maybe Thomas sees that, too, and he backs away because he doesn't want that. 

That hurts, too. Bucky can see he's interested. He's not blind. But it's not practical. Not if one considers the consequences of getting caught in the act. So he chalks it up to Thomas is scared and leaves it at that. 

Until Steve comes into their tent, a grim look on his face as Bucky finishes writing a letter to Becca.

"What?" Bucky asks as he finishes a small sketch of Steve with the Shield and Thomas with wings.

Steve eyes the crude sketch before looking at Bucky with angry eyes, "Philips wants to see us. It's an emergency."

Bucky slips on his boots, his stomach tightening. "Is something happening with Hydra?"

Steve turns to go, "No. It's about Thomas."

Then he's gone and Bucky's stomach drops. 

Bucky runs after Steve, slipping and sliding in the snow trying to keep up. The Howling Commandos watch as they go and from the look on their faces they know what's going on. Steve leads him to Philips little bungalow and there, shadowed by the thick walls and incoming snow clouds is Thomas, cuffed to the table, goggles and jacket stripped away leaving just a thin shirt and his pants. It's not until Bucky gets closer than he sees the bare feet.

"What's going on?" Bucky says as he comes up on Thomas's right, Steve on his left. Thomas flinches, rattling the cuffs. When Bucky looks at his face, he sees a swelling bruise on his eye. His lip is bleeding. "What did you do to him?"

"Sergeant Barnes," Philips growls, voice low, angry, "you're two seconds away from being arrested with him."

"Bucky is not-"

"Shut it, Rogers, I don't need your opinion on this." He stands up and takes a letter from his pocket, slapping it onto the desk. "You recognize this?" He asks Bucky. 

Yeah, he does. It's the letter Thomas keeps on his inside pocket. Bucky nods as he watches Thomas eye the letter, throat bobbing. "Yes, sir."

"He doesn't know anything about it," Thomas suddenly blurts, "He's innocent."

"I'll be the judge of that," Philips snips. He takes the letter from the blank envelope to reveal...

Russian. Lots and lots of Russian. Philips turns and lays the wing pack and three foreign guns across the table including one that looks a lot like one of Hydra's experimental destroyers. 

Bucky wants to throw up. 

Philips turns back to Thomas. "Okay, Mr. Barnes, if that's even your real name. How about you tell your friends here what all of this is?"

Bucky's eyes return to Thomas who is glaring at Philips, "I'm on your side."

"Save it for the tribunal," Philips hisses. 

"Tribunal?" Bucky breaks in. 

Philips glare turns to Bucky. "Sargent Barnes, Private Barnes is under arrest for treason and sneaking around enemy lines, arms dealing and conversing with the enemy. You are under suspicion for your part in his actions."

"Bucky hasn't done anything," Thomas argues, "check his tent, his person. It's all me if you want a scape goat."

Philips slaps the letter, "Last chance, soldier. What does this say?"

"I told you it's a letter from home. My friend speaks Russian."

"And the guns?"

Thomas sighs, sits back even though it stretches at his arms, causing the cuffs to to pinch his skin. 

Bucky feels dizzy. Russian letters. A Hydra gun. "How... Where..."

Philips looks at Steve.

"One of the Howlies saw him steal the gun in the last fire fight. Followed him and found this little wing pack here. The letter was the cherry on top."

"A spy," Bucky whispers and something in him seems to rip wide open. 

Philips does not take his eyes off of Thomas. "We asked the States to send us your records." He leans in, voice low, dangerous, "Thomas Barnes does not exist."

Bucky doubles over. His hands go to his knees. He can't breathe. And he wants to run, just like he did that night when he confessed to Steve. Run away from the panic, the denial. Take Thomas and make him tell Bucky the truth. Because it can't be true. But if it is...

Who was he dancing with on that rooftop? Who has been holding his secrets that could be used as a weapon? Who has been joking with him, teasing, whistling, sleeping...

"Thomas," Bucky chokes. And Thomas meets his eye, sadness clouded over his dark eyes. Bucky shakes his head as Thomas's face blurs. "It's not true, is it? You're not a spy. I don't believe it."

Thomas's eyes shine. He looks away, jaw clenched, "I'm on your side."

"We'll see when we get that Russian translator down here. Roger's, get him out of here. Make sure someone's watching him at all times. And you," Phillips turns to Bucky, "are to undergo psychological evaluation. Your belongings will be searched. If you so much is shake your head I'll chain you up with your canary, deal."

Bucky swallows hard, "Yes, sir."

"Good. Captain Rogers."

Steve sighs and Bucky can see how this is killing him as much as it is him. Thomas... is not Thomas. He's not their friend. And yet...

Steve grabs him gently, and Thomas goes willingly. There's a wild, frightened look in his eyes as he is lead away. Steve looks numb,eyes dead as they go and Bucky has to wonder how long Steve has known before he told Bucky and how hard he fought for Thomas. 

As for Bucky... He looks back at the Russian letter. Anger burns under his skin. Thomas was hiding it this whole time. He told him what to say, do. And Bucky listened. He never should have listened to him. He was probably trying to tear the team apart. 

Bucky slips into the vacated seat and points at the letter. "You really don't know what it says?"

Philips eyes him suspiciously. "Jaques was able to get a few words. Nothing helpful. It's addressed as 'Dear, Solnyshko' or sunshine which could just be an extra ploy too make sure we don't put in effort to read the rest of the letter."

"Who's it from?"

Philips doesn't break eye contact, "Byvshiy zimniy soldat. The ex-winter soldier. "

"What the hell does that mean?"

Philips doesn't answer. Instead, he leans forward and asks, "When did you meet Thomas?"

*************************************

He's cleared. The only thing they find is suspicious is notes on whistling which at this point half the camp knows. There is no proof that Thomas used it as some secret code so it's dropped. 

But he's confined to his tent and still is well after dark when Steve comes in and says, "I'm sorry, Buck."

Bucky snorts, "For what?"

"He was our friend. And now... I'm pretty upset myself."

Bucky doesn't look at Steve. He can't stomach to. "I'm sorry about the interrogation, too," Steve continues, "you were the closest one to him."

Bucky shakes his head, "We're at war. Nobody is our friend here. It's deadly to think otherwise."

Steve exhales heavily and Bucky feels that heavy shell he'e been hiding in come down on his head. Steve does this everytime he says something dark and pessimistic. As if Brooklyn Bucky would never say something like that. 

"Go to sleep, Buck."

Steve is out not long after. But Bucky doesn't fall asleep because he's angry and confused. Because if Thomas is a spy, he's a damn good one. Messing with Bucky's emotions that the way he has. Dancing. Laughing. Talking. Letting Bucky feel normal for one damn moment. And the anger burns so much he gets up and out of his tent, slipping out with no boots even though there's snow on the ground. He can't let Dum Dum or Gabe hear him.

His anger, his animosity, takes him past them, to the commissary where Thomas is held in a small wall tent. He grabs a small stick from the fire earlier and throws it into the woods. Happy gets distracted and goes to investigate and while he does so Bucky, while brushing the footsteps behind him, crawls into the tent and looks at Thomas laying flat on his back in cuffs and an even more ripped up shirt. No jacket. He still doesn't have boots.

But he can't see his face, but he turns so Bucky knows Thomas knows he's here. He looks briefly out the tent door. Happy is jogging a ways over towards Jim and Jacques at the borders of the camp. He has five minutes at least.

"Who are you?" Bucky spits, "Why are you here?"

"You shouldn't be here," Thomas or whoever he is says, "they'll arrest you-"

"I don't care," Bucky hisses, "who do you think you are coming in here and messing with my life. Steve's and mine! If you're Hydra, I will-"

"My name is Sam Wilson." Bucky shuts up. Thomas continues, sitting up, "I'm from Louisiana. I didn't lie about that part."

"The Russian letter-"

"It's from my friend who speaks it. You're not going to believe me, but I'm not from here. I'm from Brooklyn, 2025."

***********************************

Bucky wants to say that his first instinct was to not break Thomas's jaw but it is. He swings at him and Thomas dodges, shoves him back. "See. Knew you wouldn't believe me."

Bucky hears Jacques voice outside. They are coming back sooner than he hoped.

Bucky points a finger in his face. "That's not funny, 'Sam.' I shouldn't have come here, you-"

Suddenly Thomas whips the the blanket out from under him, wraps it around Bucky before smashing his face into the ground, shoving a pillow over his head and laying on him. Bucky squirms until he hears the flap of the wall tent open and Dum Dum huff, "Don't get any smart ideas. We're watching you," then he's yelling for the Commandos to spread out around the camp. What is going on?

Thomas rolls off him and takes the pillow off his head but before Bucky can yell bloody murder, he says, "Your mom made you bread every Christmas."

That stops Bucky. "What?"

Thomas's eyes gleam in the dark. "Real fresh bread was, is, something she loves to make you on Christmas. She put in little fruit bits for you cause you like it sweet."

His stomach drops. "Did Steve tell you that? He wasn't supposed to say anything!"

Thomas shakes his head, "When you were five, your dad hit you. You said a boy in school was cute and he got scared."

"Stop it."

"When your pa died, you went and got drunk. Becca caught you necking another man in an alley."

"Shut up!"

"Zola put something in you that makes you burn. You feel two seconds from lighting on fire. And some days you want to dive into the river in hopes it will all stop."

"Stop it, stop it, stop it!"

Bucky slams his head into the ground. How is this happening? He hasn't told anyone those three things. Steve can never know the two. The third he didn't have the heart to tell him.

Thomas- Sam- lets him go, lays down so Bucky feels his breath against him. "I'm sorry. I'm from the future. And it would be really nice if you would believe me."

Bucky pants for a moment, and grimaces. He digs his face into the disgusting ground. "How is that possible?"

"A buddy of mine and I got into a fight. Some magician decided it was a good idea to launch me into the past. I'm trying to get home. All the times I've gone missing are cause I was ravaging Hydra bases for something, anything to help me get home. And fix my wings but thats besides the point. I'm stuck, Buck. Nobody has come for me yet and they'll kill someone like me for treason. I need your help."

"The letter," Bucky hisses, unburying himself from the blanket, "it's Russian-"

"I told you my friend speaks Russian."

"So what, they wrote you a love letter in Russian?"

"How the hell do you know it's a love letter?"

"Jacques got the to and from. To Sunshine from the ex-winter soldier. Either it's a cruddy army name or a love letter."

"I need that back. And my wings. If anyone reads that letter it's going to be more chaos than good."

Bucky groan's. He can't not help Thomas- Sam! But this is insanity. Maybe this guy is insane. But then again how did he know all those things about him. "How the hell am I supposed to help you?"

Sam almost seems to slump against the ground in relief. "I just need my stuff, man. Then I'll fly away, be out of your hair. I'll figure out my way home from here."

Something in Bucky's chest burns at all this. Sam knows so much about him. How could he know all that from 2025. That's almost eighty years away. But his language. How he calls Bucky an old man. Is he still alive in eighty years? He would be over a hundred years old!

The future... Like in all those sci-fi books.

Bucky curses. "Is that a yes or a no?" Thomas- Sam- asks. 

"I hate you," Bucky murmurs, squirming away from the blanket, "stay in here. I'll get your stupid wings and letter. But if I get arrested-"

"Steve won't let you."

Bucky glares at him. "Shut up."

Then he's out of the tent and he wobbles as he stands. His feet are froze as he slowly makes his way toward Philips makeshift office and when he gets close Gabe comes around the corner. They stare in shock before Gabe let's out a shout.

"Sarge!"

"Shh!" Bucky hisses at him, "Yes, I'm out. A man has to pee every once in a while." 

Bucky hopes from foot to foot and that's when it occurs to him he didn't cover his footsteps this time. They are wide open for anyone to see that he went and saw... Sam. His name is Sam. 

Gabe shakes his head, "At this point your the least of our worries. Happy heard something." Bucky snorts. Right. The stick.

"It's probably just an animal -"

"It's not, Sarge!" Gabe yells, waving his gun around wildly, "Someone is scouting the camp. Jim found boot prints in the snow. All around the camp. Someone's here and we think it might be for Thomas."

Bucky feels his stomach drop. Did somebody else from the future come here? Sam said he was alone. What if it's not someone from the future? Hydra seemed to know he wasn't from here. They could be hunting Sam down. 

"Keep searching," Bucky says, "get the whole camp up. We need all eyes. Now!"

Bucky regrets the words immediately. Getting Thomas out of here will be impossible.

"Yes, sir," Gabe says before running off.

A minute later Bucky hears him yell something down near the pit while he slips into Phillip's space. He's not here. Bucky's guess is Dum Dum got him and he's out hunting a mystery stalker, too. The wings are leaning against the wall by his cot. It's heavy but he manages to wrap the straps around him before cursing at the darkness surrounding him. Where is that damn letter?

Bucky freezes as soldiers run by, a march in thier step, but none come into the tent. Bucky's feet spazz. He needs boots. And as a lamp and a soldier go by, boots appear by the wall. Philips has an extra pair. Bucky shoves them on even though they are too small and make his toes crunch together. Then he goes to the desk and rumages through it, feeling for the envelope. His fingers catch. He rips the envelope out and just barely through the dim moonlight can see Russian on the paper inside. Time to run. 

Bucky bursts out of the tent and quickly ducks behind it as James and Happy run by, talking about Rogers running head long into the forest. Bucky curses Steve. Maybe it's a good thing Steve rejected his heart. If he had him anymore than he does Bucky would have to chain him down so he stops doing stuff like this and giving Bucky heart attacks. 

Bucky shuffles his way back to Sam when a soft whistle comes in on the cold breeze. He turns. Thomas, Sam, still in cuffs, sits up on the ridge just barley out of the moons light. In the distance the sky is turning. They don't have much time. 

Bucky ducks behind the wall tent when Phillips goes running by. He turns to look at Thomas's, Sam's, tent before going and yelling for someone. Bucky has to hurry.

He climbs up the snow covered hill as fast as he can with his toes munched and still frozen maybe with frostbite though Sam is not fairing much better with no shoes or jacket. He gets to Sam and he moves for the pack. "Thanks. Now get out of here."

Bucky shakes his head. "Their looking for someone unless you're the one who circled the camp in the time it took me to get your stuff. Dum Dum will shoot you down without hesitation."

Sam curses. "Maybe I can make it if we go through the tree tops. I will-"

A gun cocks. They both turn. And Bucky feels the world tip again. Steve is coming out of the trees, gun raised, shield at the ready. "Arms up, Thomas," he says, "don't make me ask twice."

The pack is still between them so Bucky uses his grip on the one strap to swing Sam into the snow behind him. He muffles a yell as he goes down and Bucky steps between him and Steve. And Steve panics, eyes widening and hand shaking. "Buck?"

Bucky's throat constricts. Because never in a million years would he have thought he'd end up in front of Steve's trigger. "You don't know what is happening, Steve," he says, "he's not our enemy."

"Buck, there are tracks everywhere. We are not in a position to say-"

"Steve!" Bucky says and he swears his throat closes on him. It feels magnanimous even though everything screams that Bucky knows exactly what Steve will do. "Trust me."

And Steve seems to deflate. He lowers the gun, the grip on his shield loosening. "Bucky..."

Behind him, he hears Sam move around, a small bang and clanking as cuffs fall, and shuffling, doubt getting the pack on his back. He needs to stay calm, keep Steve's eyes on him. He hears Philips yell. Down the hill, he and half of the Commandos draw their guns. Sam's arm suddenly comes around Bucky's waist before a cool metal is pushed against Bucky's temple. The barrel of the gun surprises Bucky and he has to remind himself this guy knows all about him. Though where he got the gun is a mystery. Was it in his pack this whole time? 

"Follow me," Sam shouts, and Bucky flinches at the sound," and Sarg gets it."

The arm around his waist tightens, the only warning before his feet leave the ground and he screams. The last thing Bucky sees before the sky is Steve running at Dum Dum and smashing the gun out of his hand.

Bucky twists so his arms go around Sam, clutching his ripped up shirt. The air is so cold and he shivers under Bucky's grip, so, even though he tips when Bucky's weight shifts and they go downward for a moment , he makes sure to get all of his limbs around Sam and tries to share his warmth.

"Was the gun really necessary?" Bucky snarls. 

Sam's arms wrap around him and Bucky chokes. He knows he has to hold him but it feels good and he wishes that maybe they were in an alley or on a roof or maybe in Sam's future where sharing a bed wouldn't be a crime. 

"If I didn't threaten you," he says, "they would call you an accomplice. There are people who still need you, Buck. Steve included."

The moon is gone but the sun is rising, turning the sky purple. Somewhere there is an explosion. He holds Sam tighter. "Is this allowed in your future?" He asks. 

Sam turns left. His thumb brushes Bucky's hip as he readjusts his grip. "Focus on now. The mission with Zola..." He chokes. 

Something cold runs up the insides of Bucky's stomach. "Who doesn't make it, Sam?"

"I made a promise not to say," Sam says, and Bucky's having a hard time not thinking Thomas when he thinks of him. Suddenly his hand is in Bucky's hair, as if he's trying to protect Bucky's skull. "Just... Don't be a hero, alright?"

"If you could stop something from happening," Bucky urges, "why wouldn't you?"

"Because," Thomas-Sam says and Bucky feels his swallow against his shoulder. "The guy who wrote that letter," Bucky flinches at the reminder. Steve can't be his and neither can this man. "He lost somebody to them changing the past. He made me promise I wouldn't do the same thing, take away his choices. As much as I want to change it, I won't."

"If you change it," Bucky whispers, "he wouldn't know."

"No. But I would."

Bucky doesn't know how reasonable of an answer that is. And he almost wonders if his little hero line was him betraying that person anyway. Don't be a hero. What happens to Bucky?

There's a loud pop and Thomas- Sam! Bucky will get this!- and he both jerk and turn. A firework goes off what can only be a few miles from base.

"What is that?" Bucky wonders aloud. 

Sam turns slightly toward it. Bucky gets a good look at his face. And his fists clench at the dried blood on his neck and cheek that becomes visible with the light. His skin slowly starts to glow as the sky turns orange. "I don't know."

Another firework goes off, this time yellow and in a strange shape. 

"Fireworks can do that?" Bucky says and it's as if he throws a switch in Sam's mind. Sam curses and then banks left toward the fading explosion. 

"What are you doing?" Bucky shouts. 

"You have to try to forget anything you see today, understand me!" Sam shouts. 

"The hell do you mean, Sam! Forget what?"

Then he's diving into the trees and branches slap Bucky's back but his head is still covered by Sam's hand, though he still feels the hits. When they break the foliage, Sam pulls up trying to land but, oh yes, he has no shoes and it's a surprise he's not frostbite yet. He immediately collapses on unstable feet sending them another couple feet into the snow. Bucky curses, still in Sams grip, but is immediately released when Sam goes limp under him, all the air knocked out of him. The only sign he's still awake is the low, "Ow..."

They lay there for a good long moment. In the distance, Bucky can hear yells. The Commandos are coming. "Why did you do that?" He grumbles, untangling himself from Sams form. He eventually gets to his feet, unsteady on the uneven slope, and he has to bend over and pant for a moment before looking up. And when he does he freezes. So does the other guy who wears what looks like to be a muzzle and sunglasses. He's in leather and his left fist is metal. 

Bucky's heart slams against his ribcage and he feels ill. So. This was who was walking around camp. Hydra. It was to be. The guy cocks his head, and Bucky tires for stealthily feeling around under Sam for the guns he knows are stored in the pack. "Stay still, Sam," he whispers, even though he still doesn't have a gun in hand and this guy could kill him in a second with the one on his hip. 

The guy shakes his head at Bucky as if he's some petulant child touching something he has no right getting into. Bucky only knows the guy looks at Sam cause of the slight movement of his head. "Solnyshko?"

And Sam gasps horribly beside Bucky but doesn't move to get up, looking hazy. "Buck..." 

Bucky's hand lands on the gun. He yanks it out of the pack and aims it at the guy, ready to attack at any time. "Stay there," he shouts. 

The guy doesn't look at him, just says, "Zolotse."

"Albi," Sam mutters, as he slowly turns over, grimacing. The guy steps forward and Bucky shoots at his feet. He looks at the splattered snow, then at Bucky. 

"Stay. There!"

Sam grabs Bucky's leg and slowly pulls himself up. His aim doesn't waiver. "Bucky, calm down. It's alright."

"Are you insane!" Bucky hisses, as Sam finally gets to his feet, shivering and shakey. 

And this crazy metal armed man immediately turns his attention to Sam, looking him up and down before he rips off the mask, yelling, "What the hell, Sam? Where is your coat? Why don't you have shoes on? It's below freezing out here! The hell is wrong with you!"

And Bucky drops the gun. It goes off the second it hits the ground. Sam and he jump but the man in front of them does not flinch as he rips off his sunglasses, too, blue eyes on fire. 

"How did you get here?" Sam chatters, his shivering more evident when he speaks. "I went through that portal alone. And why are you wearing a mask? Didn't you say that was trauma inducing."

"I can't have people recognizing me, Sam. And Lang can be a good worker when he isn't doing book tours. Took me five tries but we eventually found you. Getting you was the hard part." This... Other Bucky rips off his coat and marches up to them. Bucky stumbles back because only God knows what will happen if he touches his other self. 

Sam stumbles, too, but this other Bucky catches him, wraps his coat around him, exposing more of the metal arm and heavily muscled body. And Sam smiles. "Ah. Is this your forties self coming out?"

"Shut up. I need to think." He starts taking his shoes off and Sam about shoves him over trying to stop him, claiming he's fine. 

But Bucky is in panic mode. And bad. He swallows hard. "You're... You're me."

"Why is he here?" The other Bucky growls and Bucky then realizes how long the other ones hair is. It flops all around his face, covering his ears and parts of his neck. He's huge. He's nothing like he was taught to be in the 40's. And he's got a metal arm. Him from the future. The way far away future. Not an old man. In fact he looks like he could be in his late thirties or forties. Bucky's head hurts. 

"Have those memories not come in yet?" Sam snips and the other him scowls. "Philips thinks I'm a spy. If I didn't take him 'captive' he would have been arrested and everything would have changed!"

"You never should have been near me at all!"

"Tell that to the next crazy wizard that throws me through time!"

That Bucky scowls and grabs Sam's chin and tips it back and forth. "Who did this to you?"

"Dum Dum and unless you wanna change history, I suggest you don't go after him. You've done enough damage marching around camp like you did."

"And you teaching me bird whistles wasn't changing the past?"

"What's bird whistles going to do, Bucky? Turn the Winter Soldier into a cuckoo clock?"

Bucky curses. The two finally look at him. He chokes, "You're... You're the winter soldier." He puts a hand to his chest as the meaning fully lands on him. "I'm the Winter Soldier. I wrote that letter."

"Letter?" The other Bucky says, "You showed him the letter?" 

"He can't read it, Tolstoy. And he saw it for two seconds. Take a chill pill."

"Bucky!"

The three of them whip back toward the camp where Steve's voice echoes through the trees. "Bucky, where are you?"

The other Bucky curses, "We got to go."

He shoves his sunglasses back on. Sam takes off his pack to put the jacket more securely around him. "How are we supposed to get back?"

The other Bucky shakes his head. "Lang is so stupid. He decided he wanted to try something new to conserve power and Pym particles. The Superman- Marty McFly- Start Trek Enterprise combo. Whoever decided time travel has to be this complicated needs a brain transplant."

"Bucky!"

"You have to fly us super fast into the sun. Something about making the magic happen."

"That sounds more like Peter."

"Does it matter. They both gave themselves insect titles. As far as I'm concerned their essentially the same person."

Sam tugs on his pack before looking at Bucky. He starts toward him, ignoring the other Bucky's complaints. Bucky is overwhelmed. The future. The other him. Here. For Sam. The other future him who wrote that letter to Sam. 

"Hey," Sam slaps his shoulder, "you alright?"

"Sam," the other Bucky groans. In the distance more shouts are heard. Bucky shakes his head. 

"Why does he have a metal arm? What happens to me? Why do I look like that at all? How is he alive? Is he in love with you? I don't-"

"You have a mouth on you, Barnes. Breathe, man," Sam shushes him, "I know it's a lot. Don't worry about it, alright. Just remember what I told you."

Bucky sighs even though every nerve is on edge. "Don't be a hero."

Sam smiles, "That's right."

"That's a contradiction, you know," Bucky says, "you said we are heroes then I shouldn't be one. Sounds pretty opposing."

Sam's smile widens, "Life is like that, man. You get used to it."

Bucky shakes his head. Somewhere a twig snaps. They jump. "Sam," the other Bucky growls, urgency in his voice. 

Sam curses, struggling with numb fingers to latch the pack to himself. And Bucky thinks as his abs and pecs and biceps become more obvious, the future him looses much. He may not fully get it yet, but he will and it seems he is in for a long life ahead. It will be a long time til he sees Sam again. So he grabs those straps and hauls Sam to him. Sam grabs his arms in surprise but Bucky takes it all in. The warmth of his mouth. The softness of his lips. The feeling of the gap in his teeth and the way he tastes. Even the way Sam immediately returns it, the heavy exhale into his mouth and cold feeling of his hands as his fingers brush Bucky's cheeks. 

This is the future. It's not Steve. Of course not. But maybe Sam is something better.

The metal hand connects with his collar bone and he goes a few feet into the snow. 

"Bucky!" Sam shouts. 

"Keep your tongue to yourself!" The other Bucky growls and Bucky has to wonder what made him so pissed off at everything.

"Really, Buck," Sam says, unamused, "it's you."

"And he's experienced too much." This other Bucky looks at Sam as if he should know what he means, "lets go."

Bucky doesn't miss the possesive grip the other him has on Sam's waist as he drags him into position. There is something big coming from the trees now. Sam's wings spread out and gets a tight hold on the other Bucky. The other him uses both arms now to grip Sam, and Bucky can just barley see the hint of fear in his eyes before he turns away. 

Before Sam lifts off, he looks at Bucky and whistles. Two long. One short. It's what he always whistles at Redwing. Something Bucky only translated after multiple attempts and observing Sam's face when he does it. 

I love you. 

Sam and the other Bucky shoot into the sky, the over Bucky, arguing all the way. And Bucky watches as they circle the trees one, two, three times. Then they are gone as the pack errupts and they shoot up, up, up before disappearing altogether.

"Bye," Bucky whispers, a little light headed. 

"Buck!" Bucky turns as Steve busts through the trees, branches flying everywhere. His eyes are in the sky, too. "What happened? What was that?" Then he looks at Bucky, "You okay?"

His heart hurts. He rubs his chest before looking back up. "Call off the searches. There is no enemy here today."

"The guy who was walking around camp... Thomas... They're gone?"

"Yeah. They, uh, they went home."

Steve stops beside him and they continue to stare as the sky turns blue. 

"I'll miss Thomas," Steve says, "he was a good man even if he wasn't one of us."

Little does he know. "We'll see him again," Bucky whispers, "someday."

"Hopefully when the war is done," Steve claps his shoulder, "let's go, Buck." He turns to go. Bucky slowly walks backward, not willing to look away in case the metal angel comes back. Bucky whistles two long, one short. 

Then he joins Steve, walking in his boot steps into the future. 

*******************************

He jerks to awareness. His arms are strapped down. His ribs are on fire. His skin feels raw. His hair is plastered to his face, in his eyes. Someone in white crosses his peripheral. Above him is the metal halo that he can already feel against his face burning into his head like a hot iron. 

Right. He failed. The birds. They distracted him. A hawk. Or maybe a falcon. He didn't shoot his target because he thought he heard the bird say something. He recognized the song. And then it became a whistle. And even though he's seconds from pain, he smiles. Because he knows what it said because someone said it to him. He can't imagine the face, but he sees flashes of metal wings, beautiful and strange. He squeezes his left fist that burns where it connects with his body, the nerves on fire. His handler appears. He looks impatient. 

"What went wrong, Soldat?" He asks, as the nurse holds out a bite guard.

He's still smiling as he shakes his head. He whistles two long, one short. I love you. Someone loves him. He can't remember who. But someone does. 

"Just wipe him," the handler groans, "he's been whistling that since before we tased him, the psychopath. We need the Winter Soldier. If we wanted Tweety Bird we could have called Warner Brothers."

His breath catches. "Tweety bird!" He shouts, scaring the handler and nurse who drops the mouth guard. "Solnyshko!" And he remembers. Brown eyes. A gaped toothed smile. Whistles. He screams but multiple hands hold him down. The halo comes down, clamping on his head as he continues to scream. 

And Bucky screams, long and loud, switching from anger to agony. His head fuzzes white. He barley catches a name. Thomas. Then it's gone too. 

As things fade and he twitches uncontrollably, he hears the whistle one more time. And he cries. 

Two long.

One short.