You Will Remember Me

With A Little Help From My Friends

BB

Bucky took a quick shower and threw on the clothes Steve had given him. The pants fit fine, but the shirt was actually a little loose at the top. Steve's shoulders were wider and his arms thicker, so the sleeves were loose on Bucky. Whereas the blond was trim but bulky at the top, Bucky was just overall lean and muscled.

He ran a hand through his long damp hair and wondered if he should cut it. Part of him wanted to, but another part liked it long. He pushed it back and imagined himself with it short again, deciding once again that he would leave it be. Maybe get it trimmed a little, but if he ever wanted it out of his face, he could pull it back.

He just needed to get some more hair ties.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, damp towel in his hand, he didn't see Steve.

"Steve?" He asked.

"In my room, Buck!"

Bucky walked to the other side of the floor, noticing a spiral staircase in the corner of the kitchen. He wondered where it led.

"What do you want me to do with the-" he stopped in the doorway, finding Steve wearing the same off-white shirt and blue sweatpants. "Geez, Rogers, you got any other shirts to wear?"

"You sound like Tony. Yes, I do, but these are just night shirts. Give me the towel." He said with a small smirk after tucking something under his shirt. From the outline it left under the soft material, Bucky knew they were dog tags. He took the towel from Bucky's hands and threw it in a basket in the corner of his room.

It was similar to Bucky's, except, like the rest of the house, it was all blacks, grays, and silvers. Except for the ceiling and wood trim, which was white.

On the drawer, there sat a black and white picture of his old skinny self and Bucky with his arm slung around him, laughing, and his old compass with Peggy's picture in it, open to display the picture.

What really caught Bucky's attention was the pile of chain and metal plates that sat next to the compass and in front of the picture.

"Are those..." Bucky trailed off, slowly reaching out to touch them with his right hand. He picked them up and looked at one of the tags.

JAMES B BARNES
32557038 T42 43 A
P

"Your old dog tags." Steve completed. "Only thing I had left after..."

"After I fell."

"Yeah." Steve said.

Bucky gave a small nod, running his fingers over the metal.

"Do you mind if I...?" He asked, closing his hand around the tarnished dog tags.

"Go ahead. Guess I don't really need them to remember you by anymore."

Bucky gave a small, breathy laugh.

"Thanks, punk."

He put the chain over his neck, pulling his hair out from under it. Unlike Steve, he left the chain and tags outside his shirt.

He looked at himself in the mirror with them on. A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, the look bringing back more memories of him and Steve when they were in the army together. Thankfully, with these, only a mild headache accompanied them.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm starving. I'm gonna go make something for dinner." Steve said, placing a hand on his visibly toned abdomen. "Any preferences on what you want?"

Bucky thought for a moment. He really didn't know a bunch of meals off the top of his head, but there was something in particular that stood out in his mind.