lostshieldandhammer

Steve sipped at the beer and looked at him for a moment. “I should,” he said quietly. “Your face always shows up in my dreams, my memories… my sketchbooks. I went to the museum. It says your name is James Barnes but that I called you Bucky. It also said I was Captain America until I was presumed dead and you took over.” He took another drink from the beer. “I don’t really remember anything else.”

Bucky watched the other, years of carefully composed features taking in everything. “You started drawing again?” he asked, his tone perhaps a little more hopeful than he’d intended. One hand reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small notebook and a small charcoal pencil, setting it down across from him. He nodded at the comment about his names. “Yeah, you did. You were the only one who did for a real long time, Stevie.” His blue eyes looked pained for a second, and he looked down at his beer. “We all thought you were dead. Watching you fall for trying to save me…I didn’t take the mantle for a while. I couldn’t. But when they realized that Hydra had used their own version of the serum on me, it kind of got pressed until I agreed. I didn’t do it for the stupid fame or nothin’, though. I did it cuz you hated bullies, and Hydra was the biggest bunch of ‘em we could get to.” The Brooklyn was coming out as he spoke, blue eyes just a little hazy as he remembered everything. He looked up at Steve. “They don’t know you’re alive. I can take you home, help you out.”