Disclaimer: The Winter Soldier does not belong to me.
Bucky carefully adjusted his tie, and checked his suit was on, and buttoned. Alex would be waiting downstairs. He ran his fingers through his hair, checking for any signs of acid burn.
He swallowed. His throat felt scratched, and slightly raw. He grimaced - he'd brushed his teeth, but could still feel the residue of bile in his mouth. He looked at himself with a resigned sigh. He knew exactly what Alex was going to say. Turning, he left the room, closing the door as he did.
"He won't thank you."
"You're so sure of that," Steve muttered. He was staring directly head, nimbly moving the car in and out of fast moving traffic. Natasha sat beside him. She seemed resigned to where they were going, but still prepared to needle him along the way.
"No, he won't," she insisted. "He's part of their world, that world, a different world to ours. He is not part of your life any more. Leave it. Focus on what you have."
Steve chuckled, but there was no humour in his voice. "You sound like one of those motivational coaches. Has it occurred to you that maybe he's part of something he can't get out of?"
She shook her head. "If you want to think that, Rogers, fine. But I still maintain this - he's an adult. A grown adult."
Steve gritted his teeth, and continued negotiating traffic.
"Well, James, you're finally here."
Bucky gritted his teeth as he approached the table. Pierce was already seated, and, he noted, Rumlow. Pierce was picking up his wine glass, his eyes shadowed with disapproval.
"Brock tells me you went AWOL this afternoon." He shook his head, taking a sip of the deep red liquid inside the expensively fragile glass. "Not what I expect of you."
Bucky raised an eyebrow. "I wanted some fresh air."
"You should have wanted a gym session!" Brock's voice was shot through with anger. His shoulders were tense, and he was gripping at the tablecloth. "Have you even bothered to look in a mirror today?!"
Alex looked at Rumlow, shaking his head slightly. The other man snorted with disgust, and made a show of picking up his water glass. Bucky looked at the table, refusing to meet either man's eyes.
"James?"
He looked up. Pierce was smiling at him, sympathetically. "I'll order for you tonight, ok?" He opened a menu. "Salmon."
Bucky swallowed. His stomach felt like it had been braided - he wasn't sure he'd be able to eat anything. "I think I'll just stick with water tonight," he muttered.
Rumlow raised his eyebrows, but refrained from making any comment. Alex tutted. At this, Bucky looked at him directly. "Sorry."
"What's wrong?" Alex probed.
"Nothing."
"I'll tell you what's wrong with him," Rumlow muttered, his words designed to sting. "He's beginning to realise how fa-"
"Brock!" Alex said, reproachfully. "Please. Let's try and be pleasant. Besides, James, I have something that may help."
Bucky raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Yes." Alex reached into his pocket, and took out a box. "Here."
He picked up the box, looking at it. It was small, white, and against his better judgement, he opened it. Several foil blister packets fell out. Bucky frowned, holding them up. "What are these, Alex?"
"They," Alex said, leaning over, "are what are going to help keep you at the top of the tree, away from all those young pretenders."
Brock snorted and picked up his water. "He could achieve that by just going to the gym."
Alex patiently ignored him. "They're going to help boost your metabolism. Help you burn fat more easily."
Bucky felt his fingers freeze around the tiny, innocent looking packets. "Where did you get these?"
Alex looked at him. "Why do you need to know?"
"I think I have a right to know what I'm putting into my body," Bucky said, hotly. "Last week it was laxatives!"
"Keep your voice down, huh?" Brock snapped. "Or do you want everyone here knowing that the man who fuels a million fantasies is developing love handles he needs help to shift?!"
"Just take a couple now," Alex soothed. "Here."
Bucky paused. He popped open the packet, and tipped two pills into his hand. They looked smooth, round, harmless. He curled his fingers round them. "Anything you say, Alex."
Pierce smiled. Brock shook his head.
Suddenly, there was another voice.
"Bucky?"
"Steve, just listen to me," Natasha muttered as they walked into the lobby of the hotel. "This is a really-"
Steve blinked, turning. Through the glass panelled wall of the lobby, he could see right into the restaurant. And in the restaurant, he saw Bucky. With two other men, neither of whom he recognised. "There we are," he muttered. "On the left."
Natasha blinked, finally realising that he was determined to speak to him. She shook her head, and followed him into the restaurant.
Brock looked up, irritated. "Who the hell is Bucky?"
"Me," Bucky said, quietly. He looked at Steve. "Want an autograph?"
Steve blinked. He'd walked through the restaurant, ignoring the looks of other diners and from the staff. He looked at the other man. "You know who I am," he said, calmly. "And you also know you were passed out on my couch this afternoon."
That got Bucky's attention. He looked up. "Steve," he said, his voice coloured with urgency, "please either sit down, or leave, and don't make a scene."
Alex nodded. "Please, do have a seat." He pushed a wine glass towards Steve. "Join us."
Steve looked at Pierce. "No thanks." He turned to Bucky. "Look, you know me, and I'm here-"
"To do what?" Bucky interrupted, his skin turning red. "Steve, please. I had too many beers, you helped me, now stop stalking me."
"What?" Steve looked at him, his own face beginning to flush. Bucky turned to Alex. "I went to a bar this afternoon, got a little drunk. This guy helped me, but now he's-"
"Harrassing you?" Alex frowned. "That's not acceptable, I'm afraid. Brock, would you mind showing the gentleman-"
"Oh, no, its fine," Steve snapped, shaking his head. "I can leave without assistance. But, Bucky, please. Who are you now? Are you still the person I knew? And what are those?"
Bucky blinked, and looked down at the pills. "Vitamins."
"Really?" Steve cocked an eyebrow. "Since when did you need vitamins?"
"I just do," he mumbled.
Steve shook his head. "This is pathetic. You're pathetic."
"Steve!" Natasha grabbed his arm. "This isn't helping. Come on!"
Steve, regretting his ill chosen words, began to turn away. "Fine. I don't know who you are. Not sure its someone I knew."
Bucky, his jaw dropping, watched as Steve and Natasha left. Furious, he put the pills in his mouth, quickly swallowing them with water.
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