Anthony Edward Stark

"Fury is alive," Steve corrects with a frown. He glances toward Banner but he knows that Tony is just going to do whatever he wants to so anyway.. "And SHIELD was dirty. I vowed to stop Hydra seventy years ago. I just picked up where I left off."

This is not why he's here.

"You don't need a date," he responds pointedly, glancing at Bruce. "And I need your help."

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"Banner could only hope to be so lucky. And yeah? Obviously Fury's alive but he did go to so much trouble to cover that up. Walls have ears, Cap. Mostly my ears, but still, you really have got to learn about being quiet sometimes."

Tony rolled his eyes ever so slightly back at Bruce as if he was going to join in with the agreement.

Bruce, however, was not taking sides. Or making comments.

"But fine. This ancient vendetta of yours...why do you need my help?"

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"Sure, lucky," Steve looks unimpressed. Does Tony really think they're all dense? Wrong. It's not the important thing right now. He frowns--had he given that away? "Alive in spirit," he corrects himself and raises an eyebrow at Tony--better?

He isn't paying much attention to Bruce. He doesn't think that the scientist is useless but Tony is the one with the abilities he needs right now.

"I need to find the Winter Soldier," he responds. "Only... he might not be him anymore."

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"Winter who now?" Bruce gave Tony such a look for that and Tony, without even looking at Bruce, was cowed. They had the oddest dynamic, really. Like an old married couple. Even if they'd known each other for less than a year. "Fine, fine. Easy enough."

He had salvaged a much as he could from SHIELD's computers before they were more or less blown up and called for JARVIS to get a fix on the cybernetic limb that Winter Soldier was more or less attached to.

"Looks like you left your friend in DC, Cap."

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Steve is no more impressed than Bruce at the comment. He just about died, again, and Bucky is out there alone. He doesn't even know if the man actually remembers anything.

He watches Tony patiently and frowns at the screen, "DC is a big place."

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"And you'll have a GPS. J--"

"Already on it, sir," the AI intoned and after a moment, Tony handed over a cell phone once he checked it over.

"See the pinging app there? That should get you to where you want to go." Tony sat back like a rajah or a cat with the cream. "Want company too?"

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He accepts the cell phone from Tony and inspects it, listening to the instructions. He nods, "I know how to use a GPS." He's never used one to specifically track someone like this but it's the same idea.

Steve hesitates, "I don't know how he's going to react."

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"Probably for the best. I have a girlfriend who might be classified as unstable at best--" And yet? He spent all of his time with Bruce. He didn't bother to offer explanation for that. He gave Steve the equivalent of a verbal asspat and simply sent him on his way.

One would have thought that Bucky might be long gone by the time Steve arrived back in DC from New York. After a last minute, confusing decision to save Captain America, Steve Rogers, he'd not left the area at all, just as Tony said and the GPS confirmed. The place was in turmoil. His masters were dead. No one came to collect him, to wipe him, to put him back in cryostasis.

He was lost. Store windows showed the reflection of a man he'd never bothered getting to know. He'd been alone-but-not-alone for so long now that he didn't know how to function.

Steve would find him accidentally on a street corner looking at a hot dog cart. Bucky knew how to kill without being noticed but stealing was something else entirely.

It wasn't true that assassins made good thieves, no matter what Natasha had claimed.

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He's not sure if he's shooed out or he escapes Tony but either way it's back to New York with him. He wishes that he had his bike but he hasn't had the chance to replace it yet.

When he approached, it was from behind but he confirmed that it was Bucky first. He didn't know what to do now that he found him. The last thing he wanted him to do was run. Steve was bad at careful though.

Quietly, he moved up to him but at the same time he stuffed his hands in his pocket and tried to look as non-threatening as possible. He was just inside arm's reach when he asked, "Could I buy you lunch?"

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He'd been better than this. He'd been better at understanding the environment and keeping a watch on it. He'd been better at knowing who was around him, what they wanted, and how to get away from them or closer to them as needed. This-- He shouldn't have let Steve get so close, but he'd spent hours, days looking at the exhibit of the 107th and his mind was stuck in a loop of half remembered truths and fantasies.

What he remembered was slim to none and yet he couldn't shake wanting to remember. He was grasping at straws here.

Steve's voice brought him around and he turned, eyes lifting, before he dashed off across the street, right through traffic. He had very little consideration of himself at the best of times.

This was not one of those.

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"Dammit," he curses, debating with himself for a moment--give chase or track him again?

Steve sprints after him and hopes that his moment of hesitation isn't enough for Bucky to get lost in the crowd. He can't know if the man is out on his own or if he has handlers waiting for him. He can't know whether the man will go underground just because Steve's seen him.

So foot pursuit it is and Steve will have to apologize to the people who now have Captain America dents in their hood at some point. Right now, his concern is entirely focused on a ghost. "Bucky!"

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Bucky. He doesn't know Bucky. He's not Bucky. He can't be. The shit his former mission says has no bearing on who he is. It doesn't!

Technology and experimentation have made the Winter Soldier strong and fast. They have striped him of his morality. When he smashes something, he doesn't think of apologies. He just wants out. He wants to be away.

But for all of what he is, Steve Rogers is more It takes little time for him to be cornered.

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Steve apologizes as he runs by people for the both of them but he doesn't stop to help. He can't lose sight of the other man. If he loses him now, it could be months before he finds him again and he might not be the first one that does.

This isn't an area he knows well but it seems like Bucky doesn't either and that means that he hasn't been here long or he's having memory issues, though he still suspects the latter.

He rounds the corner and is relieved to find that he has the man cornered but he's wary. Bucky could get desperate. "I just want to talk," he tells him, doubting that's going to be reassuring in the slightest.

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Bucky already is desperate. He looks at Steve, looks at the walls and the wall material. He doesn't have any weapons but that's usually not a problem. The problem is the blond himself, just as it had been.

"I let you live," Bucky intones. "What more could you possibly day? I'm not the person you think I am."

He's not anyone, Steve. Not anymore. That's the whole damned point.

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"If you're not him, then who are you?" Steve asks, tilting his head as he watches the other man. He knows that this is Bucky whether the man remembers him or not and he's not going to just walk away when his friend is out here in the world starving. Or worse, a target for what is left of Hydra.

If their positions had been reversed, Bucky would have done the same thing. He knows it.

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At the question, he falls silent, pulling off the baseball cap because it means nothing to him now. His face isn't well known. The only person out looking for him, he's sure, is the man standing in front of him.

So familiar. Someone that knows who he is...who he really is. He's been frozen and unfrozen so often that he'd never had the time to catch up at all with the ways of the world.

Somethings never changed and those were the only things he relied on.

"I...don't know."

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He just watches the other man for a moment and tries to figure out what to say. He's imagined it plenty but when faced with the real thing it all just goes out the window. He doesn't want to scare him into doing something stupid.

"I do," he says quietly and he wets his lips, considering. "Have lunch with me at least. Maybe I can help you remember."

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With a metabolism as high as Steve's, Bucky already knows he can't exactly go without food for long periods of time, not even if he'd like to in order to spite the blond. He could feel his guard lowering already and that was a frightening prospect. Moreso because he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt fear.

Something clicks behind his eyes and Bucky flattens himself against the dumpster.

"No! No! I don't--" He could feel himself falling and it made his teeth grit so he launched himself at Steve, almost as if he wanted to strangle him again, but his glove covered hands just fisted in his shirt. "Why can't you leave me alone?"

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He jerks a little in surprise when Bucky leaps at him. It's something he had expected to him but he hadn't been as prepared for it as he'd thought. He's thankful that it's just his shirt and his hands come up, but only to be there just in case. He doesn't actually put hands on the other man.

"Because you're my friend," he responds, like it really is that simple, because for Steve it's the most important thing.

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'Friend' is as foreign a concept as any he's ever heard of, but he's as desperate to know as he is to never know. Remembering is going to be nothing if not solely and unconditionally cruel, but he needs it just the same.

Bucky lets Steve go with a decidedly mechanical action, his jaw set and his eyes lost. He looks over Steve for a moment and steps back because looking up at him feels intensely disorienting.

"Fine. Lunch."

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He's relieved when he's let go because that means at least Bucky is thinking about it and he's not going to punch him. That smarts just a little.

He nods, he knows how hard it must be for him to trust Steve, "Thank you." He hesitates and then turns partway. "There's a pizza place down the block. Is that alright?"

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This look, Steve? It's the 'I don't give a fuck but is it too crowded?' look that shell shocked people during the war use to give.

Bucky swallowed and nodded. 'Whatever' was the attitude but he moved with a notable deference to his own strength and agility. He moved like a man who had never had the need to pace himself. It was difficult trying to blend in.

He did not talk at all. Silence was the way to go. Perhaps that was lucky. When there was too much to say, the arena for it was important.

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He mentions the pizza place because he knows it's not crowded and it's a place that's still around from their childhood. If Bucky notices, fine. If not, it doesn't matter. Steve isn't going to throw the fact that he can't remember in his face if he can help it.

Steve doesn't talk either because Bucky doesn't but he keeps his pace with him. He pulls the door open when they get there and glances at Bucky to go in first. "After you."

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There are mirrors on the backwall, giving him a view of the blond. There's no way that Steve can get a jump on him--

No. Steve isn't the mission any more. There's no need to treat him like one. Bucky bristles at himself, his mind at war with itself. Everything aches as he sits, back to the corner, eyes constantly darting around the room as if he's nervous.

The truth is, he's never operated outside of a set of parameters before. It's leaving him restless. He turns to Steve, momentarily seeking guidance from him.

He doesn't recognize the pizza shop. That is likely for the best. "Talk."

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