There's only one word to describe Bucky's road to remembering: rollercoaster.

He was fine in the beginning. I tried to come around the same time since the first day. He never attacked me once. I did most of the talking, but he threw in a few words here and there. I could sense the trust building, he just wasn't showing it. He never asked for the muzzle back. I couldn't give it to him anyway, I kind of got rid of it. I didn't want to see it ever again after I had left his cell the first time.

Right at the first week mark, he had a relapse. The reason why: Steve Rogers. Well, I was part of the reason too; I encouraged Steve to come in, test the waters. It was such an awful idea. That day ended in bruises, groans, and guards sedating my boyfriend.

The progress died. Bucky went back to his cold shell, letting me do all the talking while he just stared at me. I would run through the key points every day: he was in the hands of good people, we wouldn't hurt him. He was still inclined to believe that once we got him to trust us that we'd conduct experiments on him.

Sometimes he sounded more like a frightened child than a broken man.

Into the second week, there was improvement. I got him talking again. He was sort of accepting his nickname, but I could tell he still didn't like it. I kept skirting around the real reason I visited him. I hadn't mustered up the courage to tell him my true connection with him. I had to at some point, I needed a potential breakthrough with him.

I wanted my best friend back.

Now, here I am, in week three, with Rogers right at my heels. I had the path to Bucky memorized by the first week. I made the decision this morning that I was going to get down to business.

When I go in, I don't see Bucky anywhere. I almost panic, because I assume the worst: that he somehow managed to escape. But then I hear movement from the bathroom. I lean against the door and wait. My fingers find the dog tags, and I feel my pulse throb in each finger.

I'm waiting almost ten minutes before he comes back out. He's shower fresh, with dripping tendrils of dark hair. He's in a basic black t-shirt, and black pants, something that resembles what he wore on the day we escaped Hydra.

My face grows hot when he realizes I've come to visit.

"You're early."

"Am I?"

"Yeah, you are." He shakes his head, drops fly everywhere around him. "Something's different. You wouldn't be here this early if everything was still the same."

"You're observant," I compliment him. "I figure it's time you know something about me."

"Okay...?"

"More like my connection to you."

"Aside from warden and prisoner?"

I roll my eyes. "Yes, aside from that. We know each other. We've known each other prior to this."

"I think I would've remembered someone like you."

"After your mind is wiped clean?" I try not to ask this sharply, but it comes out just like that. He sulks over to his bench/bed, and I take the usual few steps forward. I'm tempted to sit in the chair that's been here since two weeks ago. "Listen, Bucky..." I bite my lip. "We go back, not as way back as you and the Captain..."

His hands become fists. "I don't know him."

"Okay, okay," I say gently. "That's your belief, you just need time to accept that I'm telling the truth."

"Why should I believe that?"

"I haven't lied to you."

"Yet." His blue eyes harden.

"No. There's no 'yet.' I'll never lie to you." I lean forward on the back of the chair.

"Then how do you supposedly know me?"

"We work together."

He raises a questioning eyebrow.

"Well, we worked together. For Hydra, I mean." His fists don't relax. "You were just like how you are now. I at the time was a new agent. We didn't know each other until I happened to stumble upon you one day. You were kept locked away like...an animal." My eyes fall to the floor. "You attacked me the first day. But that didn't scare me away. How we are right now is sort of like how we had been when with Hydra: I kept visiting, you were too interesting to forget. But I wasn't supposed to be snooping around. I got in trouble for it, and I got put back in my place."

He doesn't look as though he believes me, but he doesn't look like he's ignoring me either.

"You disappeared after one of the missions you were on. Hydra didn't see you again until...until the next time we met." I feel my throat dry up. "This is going to sound insane to you, but, you were with S.H.I.E.L.D. when I saw you next."

"You're right, that's insane," he deadpans.

"We met in the midst of chaos. Hydra ambushed S.H.I.E.L.D. I'm still fuzzy on the details, but that's how I ended up here and left Hydra. Apparently, this isn't even my true personality."

"Why?"

I sit on the chair, pull my hair away to expose the scar on my forehead. "A building nearby exploded and the debris knocked me out. I was barely conscious, but I was awake long enough to see you had saved me."

"How can you know that when you said you were knocked out?"

"I've had bits and pieces come back to me in dreams."

"So...that blow to the head...?"

"Made me lose a lot of memories. I didn't remember Hydra, or what I had done. I only remembered my basic information."

He reaches to touch the scar. "I got worried for a second."

"Why?"

"I thought I had done that to you." He frowns.

I shake my head, let my hair fall back over the blemish. "No. You saved me. You're the reason I'm here right now, for more than one occasion. You saved me in the ambush, and you saved me during the rescue mission to get me out of that facility in Canada. Like I said, Buck, we have a past."

"I guess that explains why for some reason I only want to listen to you and no one else."

I shrug. "Could be." I smile thinly. "It explains why you protected me from Jessabelle."

"It makes a little more sense now. I felt like I had to protect you from her."

He's poking through. "I promise you, everything I'm telling you, I can't make up. I promise you're Bucky Barnes, one of the most broken, tortured people I've ever known. But you're so much more than that. You can ask anyone and they'll tell you what I'm saying to you now." I reach for his face. He actually allows my hand to rest there. His stubble tickles my palm. "You know who the real enemy is. And it's not the people who are trying to help you, Bucky. It's the people who did this to you. They've hurt so many people; you aren't their first victim."

I freeze when he reaches for me. It's only to grab the chain and pull out the dog tags so he can see them.

"Got someone in the army?" he asks.

"Yeah." It's not a lie. He was in the army, but he doesn't know that. "He's always with me, even when he's not."

"Boyfriend?"

My cheeks heat up. "Lucky guess?"

"You gave it away." I almost see a smile touch his face, but I could be seeing things. "You must be something special to him."

I hold back the tears. He doesn't know. He doesn't know that the dog tags are the ones he gave me when we hit six months. We've missed a month or two when in Hydra's capture, and I'm sure I've missed one or two more.

What month is it anyway? Time is melting together.

"You have no idea." My leg starts to jump. "I know you might not be open to this suggestion, but I can only tell you so much about you."

"Where is this going?" His voice turns threatening.

"I'm not the only one who can help you, Buck. The man you attacked a while back..."

"I know who he is. If you let him in here, you won't like what'll happen next."

"So you'd attack a man, who's known you for much longer than I have, rather than listen to him tell stories about you?" I snort.

"Sorry if I feel the need to hurt him. It's an impulse."

"But not with me."

"No. You're different."

"Is it because I'm a girl?" I feel a bit offended by my own thought.

"I'm not sure."

"I'll have you know I can hold my own," I boast.

I get a low laugh out of him. "Sorry, sweetheart, but I'm not your average guy."

I don't scold him on the pet name, it makes me almost feel like he's back to Bucky Barnes. It's like he's in between right now, between the Soldier and his old self.

"Seriously, though—"

"No."

"Come on," I whine. "He's been with you since you were kids! Who better to tell you about you than your best friend?" I pout. "You know I'm not lying."

Bucky doesn't say anything; he just looks at me, waiting for me to give up and take the idea back. I hold my ground, he holds his. I realize I can try and do this alone all I want, but it won't get me any further. I need Rogers to help me. Together, maybe we can give Buck the push he needs to rediscover himself.

It's been done before. This time, we're shooting for a new record.

There's only one way to find out if he'll agree to it.

"Let me ask you this: Do you trust me?"

The question hangs heavy in the silence. I can see his thoughts churning, I've got him thinking. I look around to try and not pressure him. Not that I think he feels pressured by me anyway. I think he's reluctant to admit it, that he does trust me. He may not entirely know why or how, but he does.

The sigh does it for me before his answer does.

"Yes."