A/N:
If you like this story, please check out the Kickstarter for my book. It was made a Project We Love, but I still need all the help I can get.
The link is on my profile page, because this site won't allow external links.
"Just give me the gun."
Bucky looked confused. "I'm not going to hurt you, Steve."
"That's not what I'm afraid of."
He edged into the room slowly, one hand out in a silent gesture for Bucky to hand him the semi-automatic that Steve didn't even know he had.
"It doesn't make sense," said Bucky. He'd been saying that a lot lately. About credit cards, the internet, The Real Housewives of New York. Steve had never seen him look this confused. Not even during the Reunion episode.
"What doesn't make sense?"
"I feel guilty, and if I'm guilty, then I should be executed."
Steve ignored his gut instinct, which was to grab the gun and then hug Bucky with every last bit of his super strength. Instead, he tried to act like he had when he was explaining credit cards or the internet. That had gone well. Bucky had won twelve WWII artifacts on eBay before Steve had started hiding his Mastercard. (Bucky always had been a good sniper.) His soldier training had allowed him to memorize the numbers, so Steve wound up having to turn off the WiFi, but all in all, it had gone well. Better than when he tried to explain Housewives.
"Buck, we talked about this. You wouldn't feel guilty if you were the one who had killed those people. It wasn't you. It was the Winter Soldier. Besides," he added. "New York doesn't have the death penalty anymore."
He'd just been trying to lighten the mood, but Bucky cocked his head. His hair fell into his eyes. He kept refusing to let Steve cut it.
"It doesn't?"
"No, it doesn't. It was reduced to life in 2007."
"So I should get life?"
"Buck-" Steve broke off. "Yes, you should get life."
Bucky nodded, but he still looked confused. "What do I do with it?"
"You do your best. You try to be a good person. Right now, you give me the goddamn gun Sargeant Barnes."
Bucky handed it over, obviously more out of instinct than anything else. Steve let out a sigh of relief, and Bucky seemed to realize just how much he had scared his friend.
"Sorry."
"Just- Just don't do that again. You damn near gave me a heart attack."
Bucky cuffed Steve's shoulder apologetically. "That's just 'cause you're old."
"I'm serious, Buck."
"Yes, Ma."
"I prefer to think of myself as the cool aunt," said Steve. He tucked the gun in his waistband and wrapped his arm around Bucky's shoulder. "Come on. I'll the WiFi back on. There's a Vicky Victory hair pin set ending in an hour, and you're going to need it if you won't let me cut your hair."