A/N: Well, the consensus was I should keep going with this, so I hope you enjoy it :) Chapter titles are from Damage by RED.
1. Now the Damage is Done
The night is long and quiet. Steve soon sleeps on the floor. He sits beside him, legs stretched out, arms folded over his chest, thinking. There isn't a sound in the tower. He doesn't want to sleep. If he falls asleep, he might dream, and he can't risk that. So he waits for dawn, staring out the window, listening to Steve's heavy breathing. The sound is calming, but not enough. He is beginning to fear that nothing will ever be enough. He will be haunted the rest of his life. However long that will be.
"Please, please, not here," the man begged, his family frozen in terror behind him.
At length, he stands up to pace. He is quiet so he does not disturb Steve. And so no one else is aware of him. He can't stand the thought of Natasha's pitying face, and suspects most other people he meets will look at him similarly. His room is not large enough for the pacing to be satisfying. He lingers by the doorway, considering. Steve will be distressed when he wakes and finds him gone. He doesn't want to distress Steve. But he cannot stand to be in here any longer.
His arm froze in the snow. He could feel it growing sluggish with cold. The rest of him was, too.
He opens the door silently and as narrowly as possible to slip out. The lights are dim in the hallway, but not off. He walks slowly, purposelessly, down the hallway. For a while, he walks up and down the corridor, retracing his steps. Soon, this, too, is not enough and he wanders further from his room. He finds himself in the elevator and pushes a button at random. He explores several floors. Some are similar to his own, and give no indication as to who lives on them. Some are rows of offices. And some are labs.
He was attached to the chair. He couldn't move. Inexplicable terror filled him as people moved around him, adjusting the machinery.
The lights come on as he enters each one, which startles him at first. After a while, he stops noticing. So it comes as a surprise when there is a person already working in one of them.
"Iron Giant, how's it going?" Tony asks, not looking up at him as he enters.
He resists the instinct to jump back, but does lift his arms in a block out of habit. The other man is seated at a bench to his right, ten feet ahead. He can't tell what Tony is doing. He clears his throat and licks his lips. "Can't sleep," he mumbles.
"Yeah, I'd think you'd be pretty well-rested after seventy years. Since you're here, how about I take a look at that arm?" Tony asks, standing.
He clenches his teeth, but nods. Tony looks at him expectantly and he walks hesitantly forward, until he is about a foot away. He holds out his arm, and Tony closes the distance between them to look at it. He stays still while he is inspected. He knows his arm has been inspected many times. It hasn't bothered him before. Steve would be pleased at the development. He waits, but shifts his weight forward on his toes. Tony mumbles to himself, but does not seem to be addressing him, so he does not respond.
"It's perfect," the man said, putting on his glasses to inspect the arm more closely. "The best one yet. Good work, Jacob," he added, speaking to the man standing nearby.
"How's the Star-Spangled Man?" Tony asks suddenly
He frowns. "Steve?"
"Yeah."
"Asleep."
Tony laughs. "Short and to the point. Is that how you talk to Cap, Toy Soldier, or do you just not like me? Because Natasha said she had a nice chat with you."
He takes a deep breath, meeting Tony's gaze. "I don't know you." He pauses. "I knew your father."
Tony's mocking look vanishes completely and he looks very serious. "You did?"
"Yes. During the war," he adds, frowning in concentration.
"Yeah?" Tony prompts quietly.
"Steve introduced us in the bar. He made jokes."
Tony's eyes close briefly. "What else do you remember?"
He looks away, clenching his jaw again. "Nothing you want to hear," he says at last.
"What?" Tony asks.
He can feel the man's eyes on him, boring into him. He hates himself. Why didn't he stay upstairs, in his room, where he was safe? He bites his lip and shakes his head slowly. "Sorry," he murmurs.
"For what?"
Tony is standing, close by, voice dangerously low, staring at him. "It wasn't an accident," he admits quietly, remembering how Steve had put it.
Tony sits down heavily. "It was you," he says finally, resignedly.
"I didn't know," he replies, arm still held out awkwardly.
"You didn't know you were killing someone? Someone who had children who you orphaned?" Tony asks coldly.
He sets his shoulders, lowering his arm and holding both of them stiff at his sides, frowning. "I knew," he says with equal coldness. "I didn't have a choice."
Tony glares up at him and he prepares himself for the fight he feels is imminent. His ribs still hurt a bit, and his right shoulder hasn't healed all the way, but he is ready. All expression leaves his face and he stares at the other man blankly. The other man is five nine, one hundred eighty pounds, forties. If he has none of his suits nearby, there will be no contest. If he does have one…
He twisted, evading the attack of the man in the full-body suit. He had a strange weapon, like a laser blast. Whatever it struck destroyed everything, making a man disappear as neatly as if he'd never existed. Fear of being hit by that made his movements faster, animalistic. He threw his knife when he had the slightest opening and the man went down.
"Bucky?"
Tony turns to look at Steve, who is entering the room. He glances briefly toward the door, but keeps his attention on Tony, poised for a fight.
"Your BFF killed my parents," Tony says grimly, without preamble.
Steve is staring at him, looking tired and betrayed. "I know," he says quietly.
"Did you?" Tony replies, momentarily at a loss, shock on his face.
"He just told me. He was dreaming about it." Steve pauses. "I didn't think we should tell you. It wasn't his fault."
Tony glares. "I took responsibility for all the lives lost from the weapons my company manufactured. Because it was my fault."
Steve looks at Tony, almost as crestfallen as the soldier remembers him being when he'd first recognized the Winter Soldier as Bucky. Steve then turns his attention to his friend, his distress clearly written on his face. He knows that Steve wants to protect him from this knowledge, from what he's done. But he can't. Tony is watching the two of them, still upset. He sighs. People were rarely upset around him before, unless he was about to kill them.
"It wasn't a choice, but it was my mission," he says, breaking the tense silence. "Someone else would have done it differently. Might have left survivors," he adds. Tony closes his eyes and looks away at last.
"Buck," Steve begins, painfully.
"He deserves to know what he's harboring in his home," he says sharply, cutting him off. Steve frowns at him, hurt and angry. Tony turns to look at him also, surprised. "I don't know what he might owe you, but he owes me nothing. Less than nothing. I'll be fine on my own," he adds resolutely, standing tall and turning to leave.
Steve looks as though he might break down. Tony stands, stepping closer. He backs up automatically, in a defensive stance. "Slow down, Soldier Boy. I'd rather have you here underfoot than out there doing who knows what. Plus, Capsicle here would go wandering off again, and then who would give me history lessons while we're watching TV?" Tony expression is back to how it was when he first walked in, though his eyes retain the emotions he was showing more obviously moments before. "Why don't you two old-timers go back up to your rooms and listen to a record or something. I'll check out the arm later," Tony suggests, and leaves the lab abruptly.
He looks at Steve, who is watching the other man go, a perplexed look on his face. "He's hard to read," he says at last. He turns back. "Do you want to go upstairs?"
He shrugs one shoulder, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Sure."
They walk in silence back to the elevator. "Why didn't you wake me?" Steve asks softly as they board.
"Didn't think of it," he says shortly.
Steve stares at him. "Bucky… James. We're friends. I'm here for you, whenever you need me. I know there are plenty of things I won't understand, but I'll try my best."
He nods, and the elevator lets them off on their floor. They reach his door first. Steve pauses, uncomfortable, outside the door, glancing at him, then at the floor. "I don't want to sleep," he admits. He pauses, looking in the room and back at Steve. "I… I don't really want to be alone," he adds softly, tentatively.
"Let's go watch television," Steve suggests, smiling.
"Okay," he says hesitantly.