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To say sitting across from Tony Stark in a room completely alone with him and a ticking clock was awkward, would be the most understated sentence in history. The ticking only made Bucky more painfully aware of the hatred the other had for him. Granted, Bucky hadn't started out on the right foot with the guy…on purpose…but this was almost torture.
He sighed, laying his head on the table, his metal arm stretched out underneath it for support. Steve, Natasha and Sam had left for the Hydra base, or at least Bucky thought it was still a functioning Hydra base. He's the one who'd given them the coordinates. Most of them were being found and decommissioned by FBI, CIA and remnants of SHIELD. Though this was the last one Bucky knew of, and he prayed it was still functional enough for Natasha to deactivate the failsafe.
Bucky's gaze darted to a sound that penetrated the otherwise awkwardly silent room (aside from the ticking). He watched Tony begin tinkering with a small robot, or at least it looked like a robot. Upon really looking though, he noticed it was simply a helmet.
"What's that?" he asked.
"One of my helmets. I'm Iron Man, or did your frozen ass not know?" Tony retorted, not once looking up from the helmet.
"For Steve's sake, can we please just pretend to get along when he's back?"
That made Tony look up. He sported a look of disbelief, with one eyebrow raised high, empowered with judgement. "Why do you care? You've made it a point to remind him you don't know him. You nearly tore his face off, back in DC. Did you know that?"
Bucky looked at his feet, avoiding the memory that made his sternum go cold.
Tony just kept talking though, "Yeah, you slammed that metal hand into him about as hard as you could. He had stitches going up his lips like a crazed serial killer. It's a miracle he survived all that. If you look really close though, you can still see the scar."
"I pulled him out of the water," Bucky said, not caring if Tony was still on his high horse or not. "I didn't have to. I shouldn't have. I did."
Tony's "feathers" seemed to finally slim down, his shoulders relaxed a bit. "Well. Good. Cause you could have killed him."
Bucky allowed a small smile to grace his lips. Steve had good friends.
The moon had been high into the sky by the time Steve and company returned. They looked tired and Sam's cheek had a small cut but other than that, they all seemed okay.
"You don't have to worry about getting a big ol' injection into the brain now. It's disabled," Natasha said as she swayed into the room, flopping onto the couch. "Ugh…I really should go shower…"
Steve didn't hesitate once he entered the room; he came right up to Bucky, kneeling at the man's feet as Bucky sat at the table. "You doing okay?"
Bucky pretended to stretch to hide the shiver of elation he felt when Steve's gaze consumed him. It started in the nape of his neck and coiled down his spine. "Tired. But yeah."
"Come on, let's get you to bed," Steve said giving Bucky's knee a quick squeeze before standing up. Bucky almost gasped at the contact, before biting down on his already wounded tongue. He tasted blood, but it wasn't nearly as much as it had been in the car. "Any word from Banner?" Steve said, craning his neck toward Stark.
"Yeah. He'll be here in the next couple of hours," Tony responded. "He is not thrilled about this, mind you."
"When is he ever thrilled about anything?" Natasha countered.
Tony responded with a laugh.
Bucky watched everyone in the room. It was like a room full of life-long friends. Everyone had their guard down, even with him here. There was no checking doors or windows, or that casual pat on the pocket just to make sure a knife was there. It was unheard of for him. His thoughts were interrupted as Steve motioned for him to follow.
The penthouse was much larger than Bucky had originally thought. Down the long hallway and to the right, Steve stopped and motioned for Bucky to come inside. It was dark, so Bucky could only make out an ornate dresser that looked like it had been from China many years ago and a large canopy bed.
"Steve…" Bucky said on impulse. He brought his flesh hand up to cover his mouth in shock.
Steve stood in the doorway, waiting for Bucky to continue.
"Never mind."
"Bucky…" Steve sighed. "You can tell me anything. I know you don't trust me, not anymore, but I've never betrayed any secrets you've ever told me. Like that girl you liked back in grade school. Emma Jean? I think?"
Bucky sat atop the bed, feeling how soft it was. He guessed the sheets were silk. It was a nice change from a cryo chamber. "She had…red hair?" Bucky said back. He hadn't realized what he said before the words reverberated in his ears. His eyes rounded. He'd…remembered. He'd remembered….
Steve walked into the room, sitting next to Bucky, their shoulders were touching. Bucky didn't move away, he merely bit his bottom lip and let the gentle warmth rush into him where Steve touched. "She did have red hair."
Bucky appreciated how casual this was. He was sure most who regained a memory would be more ecstatic, but not Bucky. It wasn't significant enough. It wasn't Steve or their life together. Just a flash of red, curly hair and pale skin. He couldn't even make out the eye color. "I don't want you to go," he said, his fits balling tighter. It was relief that washed over him, caressing whatever soul he had left. Giving in to these feelings, these emotions or whatever they were… it was easier than fighting them. But that frightened Bucky.
"I'm not going anywhere," Steve said back. Bucky could hear the smile in that sentence.
"I mean tonight. I think Stark'll kill me in my sleep." It was a small lie, but it was enough to cover his true reason. It felt…good. It just felt good to be around Steve. He was Bucky's single light in an otherwise cold and dark world. Bucky didn't know why, but he could feel it.
"Okay. I'll sleep in here then."
Bucky pulled his knees up, tucking them under his chin. He wrapped his arms around them like a child would. "I don't know what I'm saying. You don't have to stay."
"Bucky…" The name was sharp; pointed and had a hint of affirmation. "I said I'd stay."
"That's not… Oh hell…" He let go of his legs, flipping his back against the bed roughly, feeling it bounce a bit. It felt like a cloud. He was afraid he'd just keep sinking. He didn't like that Steve was staying quiet. It made him have to do the talking. "Everything's just…so confusing."
"I know. But we can get through this together," Steve answered.
Bucky closed his eyes tightly. He heaved a heavy, worn out sigh. "You're so positive."
Steve laughed lightly into the dark room.
"I don't know how you do it."
"Optimism. A bit of dumb courage. We are the only ones in control of ourselves. We control how we react to situations. This is how I choose to react to mine."
"Do you think less of me? For reacting the way I do?" Bucky felt his stomach knot as the uncomfortable sensation of butterflies trickled its way in.
Steve was silent for a moment. It only made Bucky feel like he was going to puke. The thought of Steve disapproving anything terrified him. Why? He didn't know this man's favorite color, his favorite sport or his birthday. Why did a stranger matter so much? Why couldn't he shake these haunting feelings away? He felt so far away from the other man, even though they were barely inches away. He just had the strongest impulse to just…touch…
He let his metal hand dangle in the air. It was the only way to shake this desire away. He watched as the moon's soft beams reflected off the shiny material. He pretended he was anywhere but here…perhaps on the moon…
"There'd be no reason in Heaven or Hell why I'd ever think less of you. Even when you were shooting rockets at me, I still held you only in the highest esteem."
Bucky laughed, it was guttural and full of shame. "Why?" He dropped his arm to his side, hating that it hadn't accidentally touched Steve's thigh.
"Because you're Bucky Barnes. You're the guy who chased all the bigger kids away from me when I was down. The guy who came over and pushed the couch cushions into a fort when I didn't want to sleep alone. You're the guy who saved my life more times than I could count. I had asthma before. You helped me breathe."
Bucky sat in silence, admiring a man he should be, but wasn't. "I wanna be that guy," he said, for once not hiding his true thoughts. "I just don't know how."
"Rome wasn't build in a day. Why should this be any different?" Steve countered.
"Because I'm not a city?" Bucky joked, feeling a crooked smile tease at his lips. This felt so familiar. Like he had sat in a dark room with Steve countless times before, just goofing off and talking about nonsense. So familiar…
Steve laughed, nodding in acceptance. "Yeah well… All good things come to those who can wait."
Waiting? Bucky didn't want to wait. He wanted everything now so these feelings would just stop, or perhaps just start to make sense? He'd feel more comfortable if he just understood why he felt the way he did. "I don't have any memories of you," he said, staring up at the canopy. "But I get these feelings. I know I know you. It's hard to explain."
Steve remained quiet. Damn.
Bucky swallowed, trying to find the right words without sounding too…odd. "I just want you around. So when I feel like I know you, maybe it'll be because one day…I'll actually know you. If that makes any damn sense."
"It does. So…I'm sleeping in here tonight." He playfully punched Bucky on the cheek, lightly of course, barely enough to push the skin in, but it was enough to set Bucky's face aflame with warm, gentle familiarity. He closed his eyes slowly, enjoying the sensation. "I'll be back. Need to shower first. Hopefully Natasha's finished in there…" Steve looked at the open door to the gently lit hallway. Bucky assumed he was mulling over the probability of Natasha actually being finished with the bathroom. "Try to get some sleep, okay?"
"Where'll you sleep? In here, I mean," Bucky asked softly, angered by how vulnerable he sounded. He was the damned Winter Soldier. He shouldn't sound so insecure.
"Where do you want me to?"
Steve was letting Bucky call all the shots, and Bucky hated that. All he could remember was following orders and directives. Actually being the one calling the shots...did not sit well with his mind. He didn't want to sound so forward, but he just felt that he needed Steve close. The closer the better. Bucky wanted Steve to sleep in the bed. Perhaps he could even find a way to just brush his toes against the other man's, but that was so forward! Not to mention Steve had made it so clear that they were always friends back then. But why did Bucky feel something so much stronger? What had been going on in his mind all those years ago that Steve was ignorant to? Was there more? Or was this what friends experienced? What was right?
"I don't care," Bucky said, cursing himself inwardly as he rolled over, moving away from Steve. His heart clenched. Why did he have to be so distant? He'd been so good up till this point.
Steve nodded. "Okay, I'll bring in an air mattress then. Sleep!" He jumped up from the bed and strode out of the room.
Bucky kicked his shoes off, feeling foolish. But he was too tired to have any inner monologues with himself. He slid out of his clothes, remaining in his boxer briefs and pushed the clothes into a pile on the floor. He'd picked them up at a thrift store anyway. It wasn't like he was exactly thrilled with them. They'd served their purpose. He'd have to ask for more clothes though. He hadn't had much money on him. Just some that'd been given to him by a sympathetic scientist who'd asked him to buy something that provided him happiness. He'd never used it… till now.
He settled between the covers and forced his eyes closed. He didn't want to deal with this shit any longer.