About a day later Steve and Sam were back. They were two days early and they had brought back exactly what they had been looking for.

The two of them walk into the living area, stumbling slightly under the weight of the one and only James Buchanan Barnes. Steve had been looking for months in hopes of finding his lost best friend, and after nearly a year of absolutely nothing he'd finally gotten a good lead and found him.

I was the only one there when they arrived. Upon seeing the trio I rush over to lend support where I can. I take Sam's place supporting Bucky's left side, since my right arm is significantly stronger than his own. I slide my arm around the unconscious man's waist and the sound of mine and Bucky's metal arms sliding against one another created an awful noise that, surprisingly, roused Bucky. He slightly lifts his head, obviously groggy and we sit him on the couch.

Bucky looks around the room taking in his surroundings. Upon seeing the Steve, Sam, and I all standing there looking at him with our arms crossed, he immediately goes into high alert mode and is very obviously on edge. Steve all but surged forward as if to talk to or hug his best friend. I gently placed a hand on his chest to stop him.

"Steve," I say quietly. "He probably isn't the same Bucky that you remember. Just... let me talk to him. I might be able to calm him down a bit. I mean the two of you are great, but you're a little more intimidating than I am, what with the two of you being tall and muscular and also the ones who dragged him in here."

Steve nodded in consent. I can see that it's killing him, not being able to help his best friend. I sat down on the coffee table in front of Bucky, assuming he would assess whatever was in front of him. I was right, though he squinted his eyes at me, and stared at me trying to figure out whether or not I was a threat.

"Hi, I'm (Y/N)." I say, leaning on my knee with my left elbow, and offering my right hand for him to shake. "You must be Bucky."

I was wearing a sweatshirt so all he could see of my right arm was my shining hand. Upon seeing the silver sheen of my appendage he yanks me forward, pulling me off the table and causing me to fall onto my knees. Hard.

"Is this some sort of joke?" He hisses, standing up abruptly and sharply pulling me up with him. The movement sends a jolt of pain through my shoulder and the small squeak of pain that escaped my lips was a very quiet indication of that. Bucky's eyes flick between Sam, Steve and I.

"Dude, no. Ow!" I stand to relieve some of the stress on my shoulder and arm. After prying Bucky's fingers away from my wrist, I take off my sweatshirt leaving my torso bare save for my sports bra and the strap holding my arm in place. "It's my arm, you jackwad. My original one was practically shot off by some asshole H.Y.D.R.A agent before I snapped his neck."

"I-I'm sorry." He whispers. He sounds surprisingly apologetic. His eyes are wide as he looks at my nearly bare torso and the pissed expression plastered onto my face..

"You bet your ass you are." I say, sitting back down and putting my sweatshirt on again. "I've barely had this hunk of metal for a week and it's not completely connected to my biology yet. You could have ripped it right off."

He looks down at his hands after I've scolded him. I stand up from my seat on the coffee table with a sigh and offer him my hand again. He just looks at me, very confused.

"Come on." I say, jerking my head towards the kitchen. "You must be hungry and I think we could all use something to eat."

He nods and after what feels like five minutes. He finally places his own metal hand in mine and quietly pads after me as I headed to the kitchen. I can hear Steve and Sam following us from a distance, but I choose to ignore them and focus on the tired killing machine.

"How do you feel about pancakes?" He just shrugs and bobs his head. "I'm not sure what that meant, but I'm just going to go with yes."

I went to the pantry and grabbed pancake mix, sweetener, and chocolate chips. Scurrying to the other side of the room I remove a bowl and measuring cups from a cupboard and measuring spoons and the like from a drawer. I then measure everything out and set them aside so I can put everything back where they came from. Bucky just stands aside watching me run about the kitchen. After a while of standing on the side of the kitchen opposite me he seemed to appear right behind me. He was just standing there on my right side, looking over my shoulder at what I was doing.

"What's up Buck?" I ask.

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" He asks in turn.

"As a matter of fact, there is!" I say, my voice dripping with way too much enthusiasm. "Could I have you finish mixing the batter for me?"

He just nods, taking the whisk from me and mimicking the movements I had made previously. I dump in the chocolate chips and then proceed to grab a pan from one of the lower cupboards.

Holding the pan in my right hand, I start the gas flow with my left. I quickly snap my fingers to create a spark that ignites the burner. Very shortly after I had put the pan on the heat Bucky had grasped my hand and was turning it over in his, like he was looking for something. He was much gentler this time than he had been previously.

"What's up Buck?"

"How did you do that?" He asks, his eyes flicking from my hand to my face and then back again.

"You mean the stove?" He nods and I see something like fascination glint in his eyes. I really hadn't expected to see that from him so quickly. "I can conjure fire. It's kind of the reason I'm here living in the tower."

"Could you show me?" He asks timidly. I nod and a smile creeps onto my face. He lets go of my hand and I flick my wrist to cover my hand with fire. Bucky just looks at it with a deep interest, the flames flickering reflected in his eyes. Soon enough he looks back up at me. "How is it that you're able to do that?"

"How about this. We finish with the pancakes and then I'll tell you all about my backstory while we eat since you seem so intrigued." I propose. He nods in agreement and we go back to preparing the pancakes.

Within about twenty minutes I have Bucky retrieve plates and mugs from a cupboard across the kitchen. Carrying four plates in one hand and an equal number of mugs in the other he tries to make his way to the dining table. Unexpectedly on one of the loses his grip on one of the mug handles and it hurtles towards the floor, smashing into pieces upon contact.

"Shit!" I cry, the crash of the mug against the tile of the kitchen scaring me half to death. I whip around to find an equally surprised Bucky and the ever patriotic duo of Steve and Sam in the entryway of the kitchen looking as if they're ready for a fight. Both of them are looking back and forth, from Bucky to me.

"We heard a crash." Sam says. "Is there a problem?"

"Nope! No problem. Just a shattered mug, nothing serious." I say as positively as possible and trying to unclench after that minor scare. "Sam, would you please get a broom and dustpan to sweep this up? Oh, and Steve, please take the mugs from Bucky and help him set the table."

"Yes, mom." They say in unison. Man, I really did sound like a mom didn't I?

The two of them quickly set about the simple tasks I had laid on them. Sam left in search of cleaning supplies, and Steve took the remaining three mugs from Bucky and showed him to the table. I bustled around the kitchen gathering silverware and napkins along with putting a kettle of water on the burner in place of the pan. As I was reaching for the bottle of syrup Steve returned for a replacement mug with Sam close behind with a broom.

"You two need to calm down a little." I say, chastising them for their previously aggressive behavior. "Do you not see how extremely on edge he is? It doesn't help when you're five feet away from him at all times."

"You really think he knew we were outside the kitchen?" Sam asks.

"He's a damn super soldier, of course he could tell!" I say, exasperation leaking into my voice. "Even I could tell you were there."

"I'm sorry (Y/N), we were just trying to-"

"I know what you were trying to do, Steve." I cut him off mid-sentence. "But I can handle one man. He may be an enhanced man, but right now he's nothing more than a man. He's managed to escape H.Y.D.R.A. He barely knows who he is, or what he's supposed to be doing. Who knows when they last wiped him! He's lost, guys. I can help him transition from H.Y.D.R.A. at least a little."

The two of them fall silent. It's the first time I've left either of them speechless, and they're staring at me like they don't exactly know what to do.

"You sure you know what you're getting yourself into (Y/N)?" Steve asks.

"Yes, I'm very sure Steve." I reply. "I was in that H.Y.D.R.A. infested hell hole that was the Sandbox long enough to know, at least a little bit, about what he's gone through. Quit worrying."

"At least let me know if something goes wrong?"

"I always do, Cap."

With that I escape from the kitchen with the utensils, napkins, syrup and pancakes and went to the table. Bucky is just sitting there looking very uncomfortable. His eyes are darting about like he's looking for an exit. His eyes meet mine and his tense shoulders visibly relax a little bit and he stands up and slowly comes over to me to take the silverware from the crook of my elbow, along with the napkins.

"Thank you." I say with a small smile. Bucky just nods his head in acknowledgment and folds the napkins and places the silverware on top. I put the plate of pancakes in the middle of the table along with the syrup. The both of us sit across the table from one another, waiting for Sam and Steve.

"I know Steve wants me to remember him." Bucky says quietly, breaking the silence. "But I can't right now. I-I feel bad about that for some reason. I feel bad that I can't remember."

"That's alright Bucky." I respond. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with not remembering. With the amount of times you were wiped it would be extremely unreasonable and unrealistic to expect you to remember everything from the forties till now."

At that moment Sam and Steve sat down at the table and grabbed some food and Bucky and I followed suit. I had two pancakes while the boys all had four. It had to be fun to need that many carbs to keep up with a fast metabolism. I finish eating first, which isn't a surprise, and remember that I promised Bucky an explanation.

"So, Buck, you still want to hear my backstory?"