Bucky stared blankly, trying to remember how to answer that. He couldn’t remember what that might taste like, couldn’t imagine either that he would be able to keep it down. He would try anyway. He nodded mutely, averting his eyes back to the floor.
He shifted into a better position, settling in to wait until he was dismissed. He could be still for hours at a time, if it was called for. And as much as he wanted to look around - or find his way out of the confines of the space - he would wait. This was still uncertain territory. He remembered that he should remember. Little things filtered through the haze of Hydra’s programming. The sound of laughter, the chill of cold hands against his own, the fear of loss. Not things the Asset would have known. These things belonged to Bucky. The real Bucky. The one this man so clearly remembered. It unnerved him to be so clearly reminded that he was not his own. He was a patchwork of memories and programming and things half forgotten. Even this skin belonged to someone else.
He startled when Steve moved, snapped out of his thoughts by what his training assessed as a potential threat.
Steve smiled softly, not knowing exactly what it was that Bucky was going through, but he knew it must be difficult. “Hey, make yourself at home, have a look around if you want. It’d help you get familiar with the place.” He said, moving to go make the food. “You can go through my stuff if it makes you feel safer, I don’t much care.” Anything to make sure Bucky felt safer.
Bucky’s shoulders dropped and he let himself slip into a more relaxed pose. He curled in on himself slightly, wanting to be smaller. He had the ridiculous urge to hide. And it was ridiculous, given that he was far from helpless.
“You…” he began, trying and failing to gather his thoughts into words. With a soft sound of frustration, he curled his hands into fists and shrank in on himself a bit further. The Bucky from before had been more articulate than this, he was certain. He could vaguely remember a young man who had turned the heads of nearly every woman and man he tried for.
A few breaths later, he tried once more to put his thoughts together. “You trust me?”
Steve stayed patient, smiling gently. “Yeah, I trust you.” He said with a grin. “I hope you can trust me too, eventually. But I understand if you can’t.” He didn’t want to push him too hard too fast.
He turned back to making the food for the two of them. He hoped it would bring back a few memories for the other. “You’re safe here, and I hope you know that.”
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