A/N: Gah, this movie. Feels everywhere. Everybody simultaneously broke my heart and made me laugh so darn hard... Tony is my favorite living Avenger (still waiting for the resurrection of a certain speedster, Marvel) and my heart bleeds for everything that happened to him in this movie and I fully intend to write fanfic about him during/after Civil War, but I realized where Bucky was looking during this scene and this came to mind and I just couldn't not write it.
I say again, in case you missed it in the summary: CIVIL WAR SPOILERS AHEAD.
Bucky took one look at the screen and nearly bolted.
"I know that road," Stark said, his eyes glistening, his voice hard as he struggled to keep it from breaking.
I do, too.
Bucky's heart began to thud. His instincts screamed at him to run as he heard the crunch of metal, heard Howard's desperation and shock, heard metal striking flesh, heard Maria's final gasps. He needed to run, his adrenaline screamed as Stark's face changed to express horror and grief and rage and vengeance.
But his feet wouldn't move, for if he moved, he would lose sight of Steve.
I never should have stayed with him.
Two years. He had been on the run for two years. Sure, he had been evading arrest. Sure, he had started off confused and uncertain about his place in the world. But once his memories started really coming back, he knew. He knew Steve would protect him. He knew exactly where to find him. He could have gone to him. He could have avoided all of the moving around, the homelessness, wondering if every eye that saw him would go straight back to Hydra.
He could have gone home.
But he had kept running. He had seen Steve's face plastered all over newspapers and magazines and museums and TV. When he heard about Sokovia, he had felt the jolt of terror that he had felt whenever he saw Steve in some back alley, bloody and wheezing and still fighting someone twice his size. The resurfacing part of him, the part that had taken care of Steve during those long pre-serum years, had needed to check on him.
But he stayed away.
Stayed away to avoid this exact scenario.
To avoid seeing Steve's jaw set as he watched Howard fall to Bucky's fist. As harsh determination steeled his gaze. As he decided between old and new. As Bucky lost his one and only friend, forever.
When Stark turned, he still didn't run. What did he have left? Running, jail, or death. And he was tired of running.
So he stood, tense and unmoving, as Stark clenched his own metal fist, bringing it back to punch Bucky.
Steve grabbed his arm.
Stark spun to glare at Steve, but Bucky was drawn to Steve's hand. The fingers were pale and exposed, fragile against the shining red armor. But they clamped down, holding Stark back, reluctant but unhesitant.
Shock blanked out their conversation.
He chose me? He chose the murderer over the genius?
Sound and feeling came roaring back as Stark sent Steve flying. He swung his gun up, fight mode kicking in.
Now, he had something to fight for.
He fired at Stark, buying Steve enough time to get to his feet.
Someone to fight for.
Steve launched himself at Tony, maneuvering to stand by Bucky.
Someone to fight with.