Just a Kid from Brooklyn

It was easier to remember with Tony being patient and in this proximity his calm was helping, at least a little. The Soldier was irritated wherever he was at which wasn't helping him focus at all. He preferred Tony's calm. He might not hold him but his blue eyes shifted to scan the man's face while his eyes were closed.

"You fall asleep on me when we watch movies on the couch," he said, and apparently it happened regularly if he remembered it so vividly. "And I think you eat more popcorn than me."

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His eyes widened and Tony moved back just so he could see Steve's face before he broke out in a hopeful grin. "Yes. On both counts. But you get so wrapped up in movies that I just naturally eat more and-- are you calling me fat, Rogers?"

Now might not be the proper time it joke but he had little recourse. His heart was pounding so fast.

"You use to carry me to bed." He always woke up alone since they were waiting to bond... But Steve would be in the kitchen the next morning cooking for him too.

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"No," he shook his head, too busy trying to remember to realize that was a joke. Hydra really didn't joke a lot either. The grin on Tony's face told him it wasn't a bad thing though and that he was right, well, that meant more to him than most things right now. "You're not that heavy."

Steve sighed wistfully and said, "I shouldn't have waited. This wouldn't have happened."

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How much of that was a memory and how much was it from the tale Tony had been telling? At least Steve had wants and desires of his own at the moment. That was one very big step.

"You wanted to do it right and I respected that. I still respect it. It's going to be perfect, when it happens. I promise you." Tony was never more committed than he was now.

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Even Steve didn't know the answer to that question. How could he ever really trust his memory again? Hydra took everything from him. He didn't quite trust himself though if what Tony told him was true, they didn't have time to ingrain things as deeply as the Soldier.

It was going to be a slow process. He wanted and desired things now, but it would probably ebb and flow. It would probably keep getting better but it might regress some days. Tony was going to have to be very patient with him.

He nodded silently and then said, "What else do I forget?"

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Tony was just not a patient man. That said, when it came to Steve, he'd willingly stayed celibate for two years. He'd spent six months chasing ghosts. If it meant having to explain everything to Steve over and over again, he would.

So he told him about birthdays. And how sometimes Steve would just hold him until he fell asleep.

"And the way you kiss-- I've never been kissed like you kiss me."

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He listened and not just because he didn't have anything better to do, but because he wanted to listen. He asked and Tony was answering. It was normal. Well, as normal as things could get when he was missing over half of his memories and couldn't remember most of his life.

It sounded wonderful. Almost like a dream. How could his life have been so perfect? It was almost suspicious but then, he was here now and he was broken, probably beyond fixing, so he supposed that was the universe sorting it out. Maybe? He still didn't feel like he could make that judgement call. Part of him felt like he was just a weapon and that was Hydra's training. It was a hard thing to get past.

The Captain tilted his head slightly, running his tongue over his lips briefly and then said, "Kiss me."

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To be perfectly honest, Tony wasn't mentioning the bad parts on purpose. They didn't always see eye to eye. They didn't always deal well under pressure when one or the other was hurt. Some things shouldn't be mentioned when trying to whoo your intended Sentinel.

Tony blinked up at Steve when he made that small demand and It made him smile almost sadly.

"How I want to kiss you or how you use to kiss me?" He didn't need to be told. "Let me show you the way you would do it." Tony cupped the back of Steve's neck and with the other hand, stroked his knuckles over his cheek. He leaned in to kiss one eyebrow and then his nose and finally leaned in to press a kiss to his mouth, sweet and breathing out happily.

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No, they didn't, though he knew some of it just from the brief glimpses. All in all, it was a very good life or it sounded like it. Steve was frustrated with not being able to remember but he was doing everything he could to remember.

Including kissing a Guide that wasn't, technically, his.

Steve didn't answer, he apparently didn't need to, because Tony already new what he wanted. Either he was very predictable or the man just knew him that well. He let the Guide show him, trying to memorize it and the feel of it. Even if he never remembered, at least he would know and he could mimic this easy enough.

...and he did, raising his hand to gently grip the man's neck and brushing his lips against his forehead, before pressing them lightly to Tony's mouth. It was obvious he was learning here. It was the only thing he could do.

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Remembering and learning were not all that different, but while Tony was really enjoying being kissed, Steve was getting some rather violent feedback.

The Soldier could feel it and it made him lash out at the pair of agents trying to work with him. Natasha was taking a much needed break, and so there was no one there with the strength to subdue him without shooting him.

It was clean through his thigh. Agony and betrayal shot through him to Steve.

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He could feel that the Soldier was agitated and angry as he kissed Tony, but he needed to do it. What if it made him remember? What if it all clicked into place? His kiss was roughly and violently disturbed.

Steve shoved away from Tony, snarling and throwing himself hard enough against the door that there was a sizable dent in it. He might not expressly want his Guide but the instinct to protect him was still there. They were still connected. He knew the burn of a gunshot. The Soldier was being harmed. He wouldn't stand for it.

He slammed against the door again with another snarl. He was probably hurting himself but it didn't matter to him. Instincts demanded he protect his Guide. The one he was bonded to and right now, that was the Soldier.

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Tony was shocked. The pizza was overturned and the soda seeped into the mattress and the floor. The Guide stood back away from the freaking out Sentinel and a voice broke through on the loud speaker. "Stand down, Csptain Rogers!"

He probably couldn't. Hurting his Guide and not allowing him to get to him? Steve was going to berserk out. And Tony was trapped inside with him.

"Stand down and we'll bring you to him!" It was the best they could do and Tony felt every inch of himself weaken before he stepped up to the Sentinel trying to and succeeding to punch his way out of the room.

Tony just had to lay hands on him and he could knock him out.

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He completely and entirely ignored the voice through the speaker. He wasn't going to stand down when his Guide was in danger and definitely wasn't going to trust them to bring him to him intact. Who knew what they might do to him in the meantime? No, he needed to help his Guide and now.

Luckily for Tony, his attention was focused on the door and removing it from its hinges. He was succeeding too. He could feel the door giving and the bones in his hand might have too, just a little, but it was negligible to a bullet.

Behind him, Tony didn't register as a threat. He was a Guide and he was supposed to be Steve's. His scent was on the Sentinel so it was relatively easy for the man's hands to find skin. He jerked, dismayed, his eyes betrayed when he turned toward Tony and wobbled before collapsing.

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Tony kept in his anguish, tilting his head back as if his tears could stay locked forever inside of his skull without expression. He blinked for good measure and then swallowed. Doing that had been exhausting and Tony felt himself swaying.

"He's neutralized. Get him to his... Guide." He could feel his lashes grow wet and he willed himself not to think about it. "Quickly. He won't be out for long."

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They moved quickly once Tony told them it was clear. Bucky was also neutralized though his was a little more violent than Steve's. They took the man to yet another tiny room they set up. They bandaged his hand and put it in a brace. It would heal quickly but he would need the support until it did.

His Guide was on a bed and he was dumped on a separate one. Everyone else was immediately pulled out of the room and they reinforced the door. They set to work repairing the one Steve nearly destroyed as well. All and all, he was out for twenty minutes and once his eyes opened, he was immediately on his feet.

He immediately honed in on the Soldier and shifted to inspect the bandages over his wound. Steve pressed his lips together and reached out to rest his hand on the man's forehead, feeling for fever. He would really prefer his Guide be awake but he wasn't dead so that was reassuring to his Sentinel instincts.

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Tony watched the gentle care of the Captain to his Soldier and he felt the kiss that had been so rudely stolen from him burn like fire on his lips. Steve was not capable of being his again, which felt...wrong. It felt as if he had grown impoverished and yet there was nothing let from him to do but accept it.

No one touched the Guide. No one tried to pull him out of his melancholy. And no one stopped him when he decided to leave.

In the room with the Captain, the Soldier eventually opened his eyes. Sunken in blue stretched the distance of hiss Captain's face and settled upon his lips. "I could feel it," he confessed. "It...hurt. I don't remember what pain was like."

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All of it felt wrong to Steve. On one hand, Tony made his heart light. He was drawn to the man like a moth to a flame. He would, again and again, pick the man over his Guide. He stood by that desire. Even now, staring down at the Soldier. He cared for him, as much as he could, but even then he thought of Tony. There was just something about him. He didn't understand it. Why couldn't he be content with the Soldier?

It was a relief to see the Guide finally wake up and the Captain slumped slightly at the words, sitting heavily in a chair. He was unhappy even if he didn't have the words to express it. A little guilty too, but that only added to the feeling. What could he do? Nothing. Not without the Soldier's consent and he doubted he would get it.

"I was supposed to bond him," Steve said. "I still feel it."

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Bucky was finding it harder and harder to cling to his programming. He had been clipped from it before and the Avengers knew how to do it again. It left him raw and aching when Steve, his Captain, said those words.

He was on heavy pain killers. The morphine had the opposite effect on his mind, letting the base personality, letting Bucky, come out again. They had given him enough to kill a horse because of his physiology.

"But you're bonded to me," Bucky whispered. "It feels like it should have always been me. They made me for you."

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He could feel the ache. The bond was a constant presence even if Steve didn't think he wanted it; he couldn't escape it either.

"So they could use us against each other," Steve said quietly, because he remembered, quite clearly, Hydra's threats against his Guide. "So they could keep me from Tony. So they could ruin everything."

Okay, so the last part wasn't as quiet as he intended but Steve was angry. He was allowed to be now. Hydra took everything from him. Everything.

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Bucky turned away from his Captain. The Soldier felt adrift and alone. There was only one person in the world a Guide was suppose to need and though he was not born a Guide, it was his role.

What was he suppose to do when that one person didn't want him?

Their bond was stronger than most because it was filtered out in two ways. Guide to Sentinel. Sentinel to Guide. It made this blow far worse.

"Forgive me then for being an instrument of ruin, Captain," Bucky told his pillow. He had never felt so alone in his life and his bondmate was standing right there.

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Why couldn't he just accept and embrace the fact that he was already bonded? Here was a willing Guide, one that was already his, and every fiber of his being still wanted a different one.

He wanted Tony even before he understood it; it was why Hydra made him a target. He affected Steve in ways that shouldn't be possible when he was already bonded. He didn't pretend to understand it.

The Captain was still struggling with his base personality. It was hard to be Steve Rogers after everything that had happened to him. He was trying but it only made him more depressed. The complete and utter loneliness coming from his Guide only made him feel worse.

"I don't blame you," he murmured and it was true. "We're both victims. I just... don't know what to do."

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"Sever the bond." Happiness was not something that Bucky remembered but he was slowly becoming uncomfortably equated with misery. Having his Sentinel actively line for another was tearing him open and Bucky wanted it to stop.

Not even the gunshot wound hurt as much as this truly did.

"If you don't want me, you don't have to have me, Captain."

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"It's not that easy," Steve muttered, his blue eyes sharp on Bucky. It was what he wanted but he couldn't kill the man. Even the Captain wasn't that cruel and he was becoming Steve Rogers more and more the longer they were away from Hydra. "It could kill you. According to them, it probably will. They don't know for sure but the chance you survive is low. I... I can't do that."

Was suffering the better option? Torturing the man with his constant pining? He didn't know. He didn't think there was a right answer.

He sighed heavily, "They aren't even sure I would survive."

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Putting a hand to the covered wound on his leg, Bucky sat up slowly and watched the Captain with such strange heartbreak in his eyes. It mirrored Tony's now, strangely enough.

"Do it and send me back to HYDRA. I was something-- I use to be something before you." That was true, if cruel. Bucky didn't remember his life before the Captain. He just knew that everything hurt now.

He wanted to forget again and live as just the Soldier.

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