"Pull the car over." Clint said his voice like steel.

Sebastian, more like the Winter Soldier, frowned. "What's wrong? Just wait a second we are almost at the bunker."

Eyes widening Clint peered out the windshield, Seb was right, they were only around a hundred meters away from a small shack. Instantly Clint didn't want to go in there with Sebastian, it was a remote and small place, perfect for hiding a body. Or worse a perfect place to hand Clint over to hydra.

"No pull over right now, Seb." Clint locked his eyes on the driver, "Or should I even call you that, Winter Soldier?"

Sebastian pulled the car over abruptly and killed the engine. When he turned to face Clint his eyes not steely like Clint expected, but scared.

"Let me explain.. Let's go inside it's warmer and we can have this conversation like civilized people." His eyes were pleading.

"Civilized people?" Clint scoffed. " You aren't civilized!"

"Please-"

"You're a murderer!" Clint all but screeched.

"So are you!" Seb burst out suddenly, slamming his hands roughly on the wheel.

Clint said nothing, neither did the Winter Soldier. So they sat in vague silence, the only noise being Sebastian's ragged breath. Seconds moved like hours and Clint's breath was coming out in puffs of steam, but finally Sebastian broke the quiet.

"Why don't we move inside? It's warmer there,"

"I'm not going anywhere with you." Clint replied shortly.

"I saved your life, you were just going to give up and die. Why can't you trust me?"

"You're Hydra. You shot a hole through my best friend to kill an engineer," Clint's words began to shake. "She almost died."

Sebastian's face fell. "I'm sorry. I don't remember much anymore."

Anymore? This word sparked thoughts. The Winter Soldier had memories he doesn't remember.

Clint couldn't help but ask, "What do you remember?"

Sebastian's eyelids fluttered shut.

"I remember strands, like my life was a blanket that someone un wove and removed pieces from, then stitched back together in the wrong places. It's a hard feeling to explain."

Clint couldn't suppress a ghost of a smile. "I understand. I've done the whole mind control thing before, not a fan."

Sebastian frowned, "Can I ask what happened?"

"It was almost two years ago," Clint said, silently trying to suppress some of the more sour memories. "I was still a SHIELD agent back then and I had be assigned to watch this weird blue, glowing, space science thing that they fished out the ocean. They called it the Tesseract."

The Winter Soldier felt himself cringe at the word Tesseract, he didn't know why, but he felt like there was something about it that was important to him at one time.

"Stupid name, right?" Clint let out a chuckle that wasn't all out of humour. " Well anyway the science thing was apparently unstable and freaking everyone out, because they all thought some piece of space energy ball was going to be completely safe. It ended up opening the door into a separate dimension world, like I had predicted,and letting out a guy that was all kinds of crazy."

Clint's voice was beginning to loose some of its zeal.

"They called him Loki,the brother of Thor, the god of lies and mischief. He had this blue sceptre thing that when he touched you he could control you, like his personal flying monkey. He was unstable and insanely dangerous, when he started taking shots at people I got in front of him because if someone didn't we all would've died. He took control of me and melted my thoughts, he made me think I was doing the right thing. I was under his control for a week, maybe more, until my friend literally knocked me back into the driver's seat."

Clint swallowed hard. "But you see Loki didn't take very good care of his servants. I hadn't slept or eaten since he took me over, I was running on shear will power until after the fighting was over. Then do you know what I did? I had to go to hours of being chained to a desk for debriefing and psych analysis, because SHIELD didn't trust me enough to get food alone even though I just fought off an army of aliens for them."

Clint felt his stomach twist as remembered their stares that ate through his skin, some in wonder, plenty in fear, but almost all in anger. Clint was an enemy, he killed SHIELD agents without blinking an eye. They didn't want him walking around SHIELD headquarters, they wanted him chained up in a prison cell.

"Can I stop talking about this? I'm not feeling so good anymore."

Bucky eyes were bloodshot, but he nodded and started to speak quietly.

"You talked about friends, could you tell me about them?" His voice sounded weaker than it had the last time he spoke.

Clint's forehead creased, "Are you alright?"

"Yah, just a bit tired." His voice was tight.

Without speaking Clint ran his eyes over The Winter Soldier, until they landed on a wet patch on his abdomen. Already thinking the worst Clint set a shaking hand on the spot. Sebastian hissed and Clint's hand came back red.

"You were shot weren't you?" Clint asked quietly. "Why didn't you say something?"

"The bullet grazed me, I didn't feel it till later. It isn't a big deal, I've got some supplies in the shack, I'll clean and patch it up in there." Sweat was beginning to shimmer on his forehead and stick in his dark hair. His hands fumbled at the car door, hardly able to grasp the handle, much less a needle.

At the moment Clint didn't really understand what he was doing or saying, but he really didn't know why he didn't stop himself. So he kept going.

"Like hell you're patching that up by yourself, look at how you are shaking! You'll probably just make it worse! Come on, let's head inside and I'll do it." Clint hopped from the passenger side and went the drivers door. Pulling it open he slung the soldier's arm over his shoulder and trying to be as gentle as possible, helped him out and to the shack. Neither of them said a word about the now much more evidently serious wound in his side and the trail of blood left behind the limping pair.

The inside of the shack wasn't much, it had thick,but crumbling in spots,walls made of mud and a half wood, half tin roof with a tiny wood burning stove stuffed in the far corner. The furniture was also the bare minimum, just a spindly table, a few hard chair with flaking paint, an old fashioned ice box, a chipped sink, a cracked mirror and a queen sized mattress set facing the door lain on a stack of milk crates. Most people would be a little put off by it, but most people hadn't been living in a tent like Clint for the last couple years. To him it was the best he'd seen in a while.

Helping Sebastian limp over to the nearest chair, Clint scanned the shack. It was rather dark, but Clint made quick work of lighting a few of the stubby candles scattered around. After it was bright enough to see Clint looked down at Sebastian.

"Where did you say the first aid kit was?" He asked.

"Under the sink, black box with the Red Cross on it." Sebastian waved his hand half heartedly at the sink and groaned lightly.

Shuffling over Clint stooped to grab the box, as he did he sent up a whirlwind of dust into the air.

"Jeez!" He said, batting at some of the airborne dust. "You don't use this often do you?"

Sebastian hardly turned his head, making Clint frown and step a bit quicker over to the chair.

Kneeling down in front of Sebastian he did a quick assessment. The Winter Soldier's head was lulled limply to one side and hiss clothes were beginning to stick with blood and sweat.

He shouldn't look this bad, Clint thought. Unless that wound is a lot worse than I thought it was.

As he cracked open the kit Clint seemed to frown for the hundredth time today. The kit was ancient, there was a bottle of bourbon instead of rubbing alcohol, the tools were rather crude and the bandages were yellowing.

Well, you get what you get. Clint sighed. You have to learn adjust and live with it.

He started by removing Sebastian's thick coat and tossing it onto the table. Taking one look at Sebastian's sweaty and bloody shirt he knew he would never be able to pull it off without causing a lot of stress on the wound.

Sighing inwardly he picked up a pair of scissors, then gingerly began to cut apart the grey t-shirt. Once the t-shirt was gone, the field medic part of Clint kicked in and he did another scan for injuries he may of missed. Clint's eyes wandered to the spiderweb of scars around Sebastian's left, less real arm, but said nothing.

As Clint's fingers gently prodded the wound, Sebastian hissed and tried to move away. Silently cursing himself, he removed his hands for Sebastian's side.

How could I be so stupid? This man probably trusts me as far as he can throw me and now I'm trying to stitch his side back together without him knowing what's going on.

"Okay, I've got to get this clean so it doesn't get infected." Clint said in the most soothing tone he could muster. "But I can't do anything to help you if you don't let me touch you. We have to work together right now. Can we do that?"

He nodded, still tensed up.

Reaching one hand down, Clint fumbled the cap off the bourbon and for a moment he considered taking a quick swig before starting, but stopped himself. Sebastian was watching him, would he want to see his doctor drinking?

Steeling himself for the inevitable , Clint basically drenched a cloth in the bourbon and began to dab.

Sebastian hissed again,sharper this time, then let out a groan that made Clint flinch.

Why does him being in pain bug me so much? Clint wanted to scream. He's a villain ! But the other voice in he was disagreeing. He's a victim, not a monster. He saved you, and you don't even know his real name.

It took a horrendously long minute for Clint to clean the wound and by the end of it Clint was ready to just slap a bandage over it and be done. He knew that Sebastian was trying to muffle himself, but he could only do so much. Clint heard every almost whimper and groan.

Feeling some of his strength waning Clint snatched up the bourbon by the neck and took a good long swig. Patients be damned, he was going to throw up if he didn't do something to steady himself. Once he felt the familiar burn of alcohol in his stomach he reached for the already threaded suture and turned to look up at Sebastian.

"This definitely needs stitches and I don't have any pain meds other than bourbon so it's gonna hurt, but you need to stay as still as possible. If you don't there is a chance that the stitches will be too loose and I'll need to restart."

Leaning over the nearest candle, Clint ran the needle through to give it a quick sterilize and then stood up. Gently he ripped at piece a gauze and wadded it into a ball, the dipped it in the bourbon. Motioning for Sebastian to open his mouth Clint put the cloth between his teeth.

"Bite down on this." He instructed then knelt back down.

Taking a deep breath, Clint started the first stitch.