[Steve can't say he entirely understands why it's the ocean that Bucky so desperately needs to reach. Maybe it's because the shoreline can feel something like the end of the world, and he expects to find answers there. Maybe there's some half-formed memory that he wants to place into the correct slot in his mind. The ocean didn't play a huge part in their lives, but there had been a few trips there, not to mention Coney Island.

Granted, the reason that Bucky wants to go doesn't matter so much. The point is that he's expressing some kind of desire, and Steve would do just about anything to give him what he wants. He enjoys the ride, the ease of it and the fact that they don't have to worry about talking. He enjoys just having Bucky with him, and now that Steve's found him he doesn't want to let go.

The moment that the bike comes to a stop, Bucky's up and off, and Steve scrambles to get everything locked up so that he can follow him down to the water. He doesn't actually step in, but lingers at the edge of the water line.

Steve startles just slightly when Bucky speaks up, but nods slowly as he processes those words.] We lived near the ocean. We didn't get to go all the time, but we went as much as we could. [Visiting the ocean didn't cost anything, after all -- just the price of transport, really.]

Sometimes you went swimming. Usually I sat a little further up on the sand and sketched. [Steve can remember it still -- the sun beating down on him and warming the sand, his pencil forming the lines of the muscles in Bucky's back as he watched him wade into the water. The flow and ebb of the waves, which he tried to match his breathing to. It feels like another life, or a dream, but it had been real.

It would feel more real if Bucky could remember too, but Steve will just have to hold onto it until that time comes. If it ever does.]