"And I am feeling so small
It was over my head
I know nothing at all"
Steve would have preferred it if tiny, crystallized droplets of snow cascaded through the air. Snowflakes seemed to have a more calming effect on him as they fell to the ground, slowly gathering. It would have been a peaceful sort of mood, even in New York where people were constantly rushing. To see people walk a little slower and huddle a little closer together was a welcome change. But winter wasn't kind to The Captain. In a way, he knew it never was. The harsh winter neglected the peacefulness of a quiet snowfall in favor of an ice storm that rattled the windows of his apartment.
Curled up next to the window, he pulled the blanket closer in a feeble attempt at some sense of security. He couldn't think of a single living soul that would call Steve Rogers fragile in any context—but there he was, proving to himself just how vulnerable he'd become. Even before he had had the serum, Steve was strong-willed in any way he could manage, whether he had the strength to be or not. It was nights like these that he tried to be strong, but the winter was cruel in that respect, keeping him in a place where he couldn't fight back.
"Hey, I'm back" Bucky called out, fiddling with the door to get it locked. "The stupid door knob is practically frozen solid, can't get the damn thing to close."
When he received no answer, he scrunched up his face, an expression of concern washing over him. His childhood friend had a habit of getting out and into trouble, sure, but he'd never peg him to be reckless enough to do it during a snowstorm of this magnitude. Bucky slipped off his jacket, brushing the snow off of his shoulders and hair, a shiver running through his body. It was definitely a cold night.
"Steve?" he called, a little louder, moving to the bedroom quickly, trying not to jump to conclusions. That's when he saw his friend curled up on the bed, thin blanket wrapped around his smaller frame. He couldn't see his face, but he could tell it was not good with how much he was shivering. He tightened his lips into a thin line, fists clenched in anger and disappointment—not at Steve but at the storm and Steve's weak immune system. Bucky wasted no time walking over to the bed, sitting on the edge.
"Hey Stevie," he whispered, his hand finding Steve's hair, stroking it softly, "How're ya feeling, pal?" Bucky knew the answer to that question as much as he didn't want it to be true.
Steve shifted, relaxing into Bucky's touch. "Pretty lousy," he mumbled, pulling the blanket closer.
"Well, at least you're admitting it this time." Bucky rolled his eyes, pulling Steve into his lap, making sure the blanket covered him thoroughly.
"Hey," Steve squirmed in a weak protest, "I'm not a dame."
"Didn't say you were," Bucky retorted, pulling Steve closer, sharing what body heat he had.
"'m not a child either," Steve added, chasing the heat he was offered, never admitting that he needed it.
"C'mon, quit being so defensive. You're sick, you know the drill." Bucky pulled them both down to lie on the bed, wrapping strong arms around his friend, pulling him into his warmth. There was nothing else Bucky could do for him and he only hoped it would be enough to save him, to protect him from another unkind winter night.
After an elongated silence, Steve shifted, moving closer to his friend. His breathing was somewhat irregular, but the heat took the edge off. "Hurts worse than it usually does," Steve choked out, the cough that followed indicating just how much fluid he had in his lungs.
God, please, anything but pneumonia. Bucky couldn't help himself thinking the thought. He wasn't sure Steve could handle another bout of that. Bucky wasn't sure he could watch his friend go through it again.
He wrapped his arms around Steve, grabbing a hold of his hands. "Just squeeze my hands when it really hurts, alright?"
Normally Steve would have protested, but at this point, what with how sick he was becoming, he just kept quiet, keeping a weak hold of Bucky's hands. It was all there was for him to do. Bucky's concern and care was what gave him the will to survive the hell that life had given him.
Memories flooded in all at once and struck Steve like a bullet, piercing through his sternum. It'd been exactly one month since the Winter Soldier had been defeated and captured. In that month, SHIELD had hooked him up to machines, run tests, psychological analyses, you name it and they tried it. The Captain only wanted to see him get better, but he knew SHIELD had different intentions; they always did. They tested his limits, dove into his mind where the triggers laid deep—it wasn't a place where SHIELD belonged. Hell, no one had the right to tamper with someone's mind—especially Bucky's.
But he wasn't Bucky anymore.
It was his body and his voice… and even his eyes were the very same eyes that he knew once harbored sympathy, sarcasm, and happiness. But all that the Red Room left behind was an empty shell of a man that used to be. There wasn't anything else they could take from him—they'd taken the only person that really mattered and turned him into a puppet. He had been used and then locked away when he wasn't needed anymore. The thought of Bucky alone in the ice, not knowing who he was had Steve at a loss, not sure whether to stay by his side or hide from the world.
Despite the fact that Steve still went out on missions on behalf of SHIELD, he didn't act the same as he did before. There was a shift in his personality that they couldn't quite place, even those closest to him.
There was a knock on the door and Steve sure as hell wasn't expecting anybody. He found it even harder to find the will to get up and answer it. 'It could be important ' he tried to tell himself, dropping the blanket at his feet, unlocking the door with the click, and caught face to face with the most unlikely person.
"Stark" Steve said quietly, straightening out his posture.
"Don't 'Stark' me" Tony snapped, letting himself in the door, "Do you have any idea what day it is?"
"Does it matter?"
"It sure as hell does when it's mine and Pep's rehearsal dinner" Tony's voice raised more with his anger, "Steve, you're the best man, that's kind of a big deal"
The Captain froze. Was it Friday already? He must've been here longer than he remembered. His last mission was six days ago and he hadn't even noticed; anything to keep away from the people asking if he needed to talk. But he was usually on top of things like this.
"Tony" Steve's tone was low and abused, faltering with every word, "I'm sorry…I lost track of time"
"Damn right you better be sorry" The genius gave Steve a firm shove backwards which usually left Steve unmoving, but this time he was actually taken back, "Missing my parties, I can let it slide. Skipping press conferences, we all do once in a while. But this…this cap is downright worrying."
"I told you I was sorry, what more do you want" Steve slumped against the wall in a posture that seemed too relaxed for him.
"This isn't even about the dinner anymore, okay?" He shifted in front of the Captain, "It's about you not acting like yourself and me being the only one who isn't too chicken shit to say something"
"Look it's nothing. I'll be at the wedding early, alright?" Steve tried to protest the conversation going any further, shoving his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants.
"Stop trying to change the subject." Tony's voice had reached its peak, not caring who could hear him. With a resigned sigh, he locked eyes with Steve, "Is this about…what they found?"
Steve had to stop himself from losing what composure he had left, clenching his fingers into fists, "What they found is a person not an object." He found himself snapping forward, hands on Tony's shoulders before he even knew what was happening.
"Look, I read the reports, I know the stories, some of them firsthand from good old dad" Tony raised his hands just slightly in surrender, "I know how close you were."
"Whatever you think you know, just forget it" Steve tightened his grip on the other man, fighting back every urge to get violent. This was uncharacteristic of level-headed Captain America, but Steve Rogers was different. Without the mask and title, Steve was just your average guy who fights for what's right and follows his emotions rather than orders. His duty is to his heart.
"Hey, you know just as well as I do that I'm the last person that wants to talk about feelings" Tony struggled to get out of Cap's superhuman grip.
"There's no feelings." Steve snapped, "Just forget about it"
Tony stopped for a moment, taking two steps backwards, head slightly tilted, "You guys…were more than just good friends…weren't you?" The usual sarcastic drawl Tony had to his voice was diminished, actually replaced with one of genuine concern.
"And I will stumble and fall
I'm still learning to love
Just starting to crawl"
"Hey c'mon Buck." Steve slapped the other man's back playfully, "Get outta bet already, we have a mission"
"Five more minutes" Bucky mumbled into the pillow, pulling the standard issued blanket over his head.
"Not a chance, pal." The Captain dragged the blanket off of his friend, earning a loud groan from the man who was revealed.
"Sttteeeeevvveeee" The soldier whined, sitting up to rub his eyes, "I was using that"
"And now you're going to get ready" He stood up, smoothing out his patriotic uniform, turning to leave.
"Wait" Bucky piped up, getting the Captain's attention, "Hold on, stay for a second"
With a friendly smile, Steve sat down on the bed next to Bucky. This may have been the first time it'd been just the two of them since he'd gotten the serum, and it felt strange to be taller, almost unnatural.
"I haven't gotten the chance to see you much at all since we've been working together" he elbowed the Captain gently, "It's like we're strangers"
He was right. Steve couldn't remember the last time they'd gotten a few minutes of un-interrupted time to just talk about what happened. There was the time at the bar, but Agent Carter had shown up and their night didn't end too much later after that.
"Well here I am." Steve laughed a little louder than he probably should have, "Would a stranger know what you and Betty Anderson did behind the playground when you were fifteen?"
Bucky put on his best insulted face, crossing his arms, "Hey, alright, that's enough, wise-guy"
"Hey I'm only stating a fact" Steve was beaming. He was in a better mood than he'd be in ages and he was certain he had Bucky to thank for that. After all, he'd been a good morale boost from the start.
"Yeah, yeah" Bucky waved him off, pulling up his pants with a sigh, "Is it cold out?"
"Ten below zero" Steve stated almost robotically, "Which reminds me, we should talk strategy before we get out there"
"Give it a rest, already. We'll talk about it when we get out there" Bucky insisted, lacing up his boots.
"Keep in mind that I'm your commanding officer" Steve reminded him in a playful way, not intending for it to be taken too seriously.
"Yeah, okay" Bucky rolled his eyes, fully dressed, and turned to Steve, confidence level dropping on the spot, "Hey, I wanna talk to you about something"
Steve scooted a little closer, "Whats on your mind?" He was sure the concerned tone would translate well.
"It's somethin' I've been meaning to talk about for…" He paused, smirk playing on the corners of his lips, "Jesus—years. It's been years"
"Well spit it out" The Captain nudged Bucky in a way that only they understood, flashing a smile that only Bucky would appreciate.
With a heavy sigh, Bucky moved closer, sliding his hand up Steve's shoulder and to his neck, calloused fingers tracing the outline of the Captain's jaw. Steve was both confused and captivated by the action, leaning into the touch. He felt Bucky's body shift forward, their foreheads nearly touching. There was no breath between them, just a painfully beautiful silence, their lips nearly connected—when there was a knock on the door.
"Hey Cap. You ready or what?" Gabe shouted through the cabin door, "Zola is on the train"
The two soldiers practically jumped away from each other, faces flushed, though they could pretend that was just the cold weather.
"We'll talk about this later" Bucky murmured.
"Right" Steve agreed, unsure of what had happened, but suddenly eager to get Zola off the train and get the hell back to base.
But they didn't get to talk about it later. The chance was lost, along with every other hope of having a conversation with his best friend—and finding out just what Bucky wanted to say. He knew the general idea, or at least he could imagine. But he wanted to hear it from Bucky's lips, see how he got flustered or stammer around him. But that would have made everything so much worse if Bucky had said something…because then Steve would be losing more than just a best friend.
He snapped back to reality, face to face with Tony, "No." Steve choked out, voice barely audible at this point, "But…I think we might have been if we had more time" He couldn't look at Tony, and Tony was smart enough not to force him to.
"Oh" Tony responded inaudibly as well, "Do y'think maybe…if he gets better…"
Steve's eyes clenched shut, letting the breath flow through him, not daring to open up, "According to SHIELD…there is not 'better'. He may not be the winter soldier anymore…but he's never going to be Bucky again"
Tony only knew so much about how to deal with people, but this was one of those moments where he figured words weren't necessary, deciding to reach ahead, resting a hand on Steve's shoulder. The Captain accepted the comfort, feeling the tears welling up in his eyes.
"Going to SHIELD is a constant reminder that he's here but I can never have him back" Steve spoke through a broken sob, "For a while I had hope that he was still in there…but I must be kidding myself"
"Normally I'd say that you shouldn't give up hope too easily, but…" Tony hesitated, "It doesn't look good, Steve. And the way you're acting isn't healthy, and is frankly, a little scary"
"That's what you don't understand…that's why I'm acting the way I am" Steve finally looked up to meet the other man's eyes, "Because I gave up on the one person that I can't live without"
Tony shook his head in disbelief, never seeing the Captain in such a state where his sarcastic remarks flew right over his head, as well as his faith in humanity dropping. He was supposed to be a symbol, but right now, he was just a man, "You….really cared about him, Cap"
Steve gave a weak nod, grabbing a hold of the other man in a desperate embrace. There were no cameras, paparazzi, or SHIELD doctors here…just a broken man fighting for the will to live. He would be Captain America and protect the world from dangers he'd known all too well…but he'd always be Steve Rogers first, the man who never had Bucky's love to lose.
"And I will swallow my pride
You're the one that I love
And I'm saying goodbye
Say something I'm giving up on you
Say something"