I Know What You Did in the Dark ch 9

Steve

I was incensed. Why did Sam run back here from DC just because Bucky might be in New York? What was I, some greenhorn? I made up my mind when Sam arrived, I'd give him a piece of my mind and then we'd get back to looking for Bucky.

The knock was crisp and just loud enough to be heard. I answered the door with a speech already in my head. There stood Sam, unshaven and looking rather haggard. In the back of my mind, I began to feel sorry for the demands I was placing on him. I remained steadfast, "Sam."

He replied efficiently, "Steve. May I come in?"

"Excuse me." I stepped aside to let him walk into my apartment. He sized it up in a few moments. I hadn't bothered to tidy up, not that it mattered anyway. I could hear Bucky tsking me for not keeping my place neater in case I got a date. Without him, how was that improbability going to occur? Bucky was the ladies man, not me.

Closing the door behind him, I looked toward Sam and commented rather firmly, "You didn't have to rush back up here."

"I wasn't rushing." Sam replied, taking a defensive pose, broad arms across his chest. He looked very tired.

"Oh, sorry. You flew up here." I quipped then regretted my attitude but I still felt exasperated.

"Control to Cap, but I don't have my wings any more." he bit back then argued, "And right now, you need me."

I was at my breaking point of aggravation. Throwing my arms wide, I turned right and left, gazing at my home, "Why? Where is the boogey man?"

Sam inhaled a steading breath and swiped a hand down his face. With a guilty heart, I saw how hard he was working for me even though he was getting nothing in return. That made me feel miserable but my temper still was simmering on the back burner, close to a boil. ""Look. You read that file. You read it and now you know. I can see you're hurting- "

"Don't go off with this therapist stuff. I'm fine." I shot back, putting my hands on my hips to prevent them from curling into fists. My vision tinted red when he mentioned that file and my stomach contorted inside me. He had no idea what Bucky has been through.

"I'm not being your therapist. I'm being your friend." He responded coolly to my heated words.

I broke his gaze first and looked out the night sky from the window behind him. Lights of the city were twinkling on buildings. Focusing on them, I breathed in and out to calm my mind and release the anger I felt, not at Sam, not at Hydra, not at S.H.I.E.L.D. but at myself. The exhaustion of spent anger consumed me and my arms dropped while I felt the last sparks of rage leave me, uselessly wasted. Looking back to Sam I quietly said, "Yes. I read it. It was horrible. It's some of the most horrible things I've ever seen." Tears welled and threatened to tumble. Inhaling, I didn't want them to fall so I swiped my hand across my nose, "And it is so hard to think that I let him down."

"It wasn't your fault." Sam sympathized, his voice softer.

"You aren't the first person to tell me that." Peggy's kind face looked at me from the black and white framed picture I forced S.H.I.E.L.D. to give me shortly after I was thawed out. "But I don't believe it." Hearing my voice, I sounded so old and defeated. What the hell was happening to me?

Sam firmed up his stance and said, "Believe what you want, but the facts are war is hell. And we all knew that our lives were on the line. So, the question now is, Steve." I tore my gaze from Peggy's picture to look at Sam, "What are we going to do now that Bucky is in New York and may be trying to fulfill his mission."

"But we don't know that." I felt walls reasserting themselves brick by brick between Wilson and I.

"Ok. Ok. So let's suppose he just wants to reconnect. How do you think you'd react?" Sam postulated in a neutral tone, hands extended to me, palm down.

At first, I had a snappy retort, my finger pointing to accuse but his question caught me off guard. Had I thought of that? What would Bucky want if he saw me again here, in our hometown, our old neighborhood? Instead, I grazed my hand across my chin, "I had not… thought of that."

"Well, you sure should start thinking about it. You two didn't exactly hit it off real well last time." Sam prompted.

"I'd like to think he'd be more… friendly." Letting my mind wander with that thought, I envisioned a more joyful reunion.

"Think back to when you woke up from the freeze. How did you feel in Times Square when Nick introduced himself?" He asked, "Not sure you liked what you woke up to?"

"It was a bit of a surprise." I agreed but thought that was an understatement. When I was surrounded in Times Square with all the lights, noises and new fangled cars, it was like being in a alien world.

"That is putting it mildly. Now walk in Bucky's shoes. He's out of his hell, alone, in a time he doesn't recognize and maybe he's comprehended he tried to kill his best friend." Sam began to explain and the darkness from Bucky's past began to crush my glimmer of hope. Chills of terror ran down my spine as I contemplated his words and those tears began to well up. "Imagine how he'd react to you."

"But… he's Bucky. He's my best friend." A hitch of a sob caught in my throat, "I talked him out of killing me. He knew his name."

Sam looked at me sidelong and with a sigh said, "Steve. I'm hungry. Let's eat and then get some beers."

I blinked and swiped the heel of my hand over my eyes quickly trying to compose myself. Sam didn't need to know how many I had cried for Bucky after I read the whole file. That pulled thread let all the darkness out into the world. "Sure. Good idea. I know a great pastrami place that me and … Bucky used to eat at."

"You men that place is still around?" Sam smirked.

"Good food never goes out of style. And you are buying the beers." I cut back while getting my coat and wallet.

"Fine. Not like I'm some sort of national hero or something. You probably get your beers for free." Sam groused.

"Yeah. Most nights. Less for you to spend." I replied trying to lighten up for the evening. I locked the door behind us.