[He almost cried. Again. Steve was sure James could feel the faint tremor as he laced their fingers together, but he got control of himself quickly. No one wanted to see someone like him weeping, even if they would have been happy tears. It would probably make James worry, at best, if not head for the hills. He drew in a shuddery breath and gave his head the slightest shake, smiling.]


Thank you. But I have good memories of them, lots of them. It's not as lonely as all that most of the time.


[Sometimes, but not all the time. And there was a faint hope he'd find Bucky again one day, and that he could find someone to fix his friend and give Bucky back his life. It wasn't impossible.

Steve listened to James talk, appreciating the struggle the man went through to find something happy to talk about. It was . . . so deeply touching. Such a hard, guarded man doing his best to open up just because he asked. Steve wasn't even sure James spoke so openly to Jim and he knew it was a precious gift. He mumbled against James' hair, squeezing the man's hand gently.]


McCoy, right? Jim calls him . . . Bones, I think? He's a doctor. Doesn't like space though, or people. Really grumpy. Is that who you mean?