I am Lightning In a Jar, and Glass Breaks So Easily

Chapter Two

"Of course, Bucky," Steve responded after thinking about what he'd just heard. Bucky knew more about Steve than Bucky did himself.
"What should we start with?" Steve inquired.
"My name," Bucky answered.
"Well," Steve began, "your name is James Buchanan Barnes, but I call you Bucky because you didn't like being called James."
Bucky sat down on the dusty, wooden floor.
"Uh," Bucky hesitated, "how did I end up here? How did I end up a murderer that works for HYDRA?"
Steve's breath caught in throat, recounting Bucky's fall off the train and it being his fault. Steve sat there, staring off somewhere Bucky couldn't see, remembering his shout and reaching for Steve and how he thought Bucky was dead but he wasn't. He probably looked like a parent whose kid asked them what sex was because Bucky told him that they didn't have to talk about it right now if he didn't want to.
"No, Bucky, it's fine. Well, uh, you know how I had that serum injected into me, right?" Bucky nodded, "Well, you know, I became Captain America, all that. Well, we were on a train going across a ravine and we were fighting HYDRA agents when you got knocked off the train and you were hanging on to the side rail and I was reaching to try and get you when the metal broke off and you fell into the ravine. I don't know what happened from there."
Bucky sat there, blinking at Steve. He swallowed and moved on.
"When did we become friends?"
"Y'know, I don't really remember. It was about 85 years ago."
"How old am I?"
"You are 98 years old."
"Where am I from?"
"Brooklyn, New York."
They went on like this until Bucky knew almost everything there is to know about himself.
"And, Steve, one last question."
"Yeah, Bucky?"
"Do you have a place I can stay? HYDRA could find me if I sleep on the streets."
"I'll come up with a place, Bucky."
"Thank you, Steve."
Bucky was regaining Steve's trust quicker than he thought he would.

                      *   *   *   *   *   *
That night, Bucky slept in Steve's apartment. When he woke up, he noticed there was writing on his metal arm.
'James Buchanan Barnes. Or Bucky.'
He smiled, the first happy smile since 1945. He had smiled since then, but they had all been in a murderous or sad manner. He stood up, yawned and stretched. He rubbed his eyes and stood there. He hadn't spent the night in an apartment since 1940- something, especially Steve's apartment. He didn't know what to do. He snuck down the hall and peeked into Steve's bedroom. He was still fast asleep and snoring.
'Damn. He's loud,' Bucky thought.
He walked back into the living room and sat down on the couch. He sat there for about thirty minutes before Steve got up and invited him into the kitchen. Bucky walked in as Steve was pulling out different boxes of cereal.
"Take your pick," he said, getting two bowls from the cabinet. Bucky picked one up that looked alright and filled his bowl. He sat down at the table and ate silently.
When he finished, he stood up and asked Steve what to do with his bowl.
"Put it in the sink," Steve muttered after swallowing what he had in his mouth. Bucky did as he was told and walked back into the living room.
After a while (Steve is a slow eater), Steve walked into the living room and sat down next to Bucky on the couch.
"So," he began, "what d'ya want to do?" Steve questioned awkwardly. He has a good reason to be awkward, too. His best friend who he thought died back in 1945, who had tried to kill him, was sitting next to him.
"I don't know. Is there anything in the future I should know about?"
"Yeah, there is. An awful lot, actually. What do you wanna start with?"

"Um, automobiles. Can they float yet?" Bucky asked, recounting the science fair the night before this nightmare began. Steve grinned from ear-to-ear.

"How did you remember that?"

"I...I don't know."

"Anyway, cars can't float, Buck. Howard didn't uphold his promise, the bastard." Bucky smiled, another genuinely happy smile.

 "Has anything changed with the food?"

"Bananas. They're small and horrible."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you remember the Big Mike bananas we ate as kids?"

"Yeah?"

"Some disease killed them all. The bananas they have today are thin and bitter. Not sweet at all." Bucky frowned.

"Anything else?"

"Too much to tell in a day, Buck."