In the morning, Bucky comes into the living room warily. He doesn't know how Steve will react to last night's revelation. Steve greets him with a smile, however.
"Morning, Bucky. How'd you sleep?" he questions gently.
"Fine," Bucky murmurs, pursing his lips.
"Hey, don't worry about it," Steve reassures him, moving around the counter to place his hands on Bucky's shoulders.
Bucky peers up at Steve. A small smile spreads across his lips. "Thank you, Steve," he whispers.
"No problem, pal."
They sit down to breakfast, and when Steve turns on the news, he's surprised to see Natasha's face.
"We're working on it," she says, "but so far the assassin hasn't left any traces behind. We do have a few suspicions, though, and we're following up on those."
"Thank you, Agent Romanoff," a woman in a pink dress suit replies. "We'll be talking more with Agent Romanoff and her associates as the story develops. Remember, this is information you can only get here," she tells her viewers. Romanoff and her associates, Steve notes. Not SHIELD. That name is tainted now. He feels a twinge of guilt as he realizes he is housing the assassin that they're searching for, and he defended Bucky to Natasha. He insisted upon his innocence.
Steve glances over to Bucky to find that the man is already studying him.
"It's me." Bucky mutters. "It's me and you've already told her it's not."
"Don't worry about it, Buck. We'll figure it out."
"Steve, this isn't your problem. It's mine and only mine. This is why I didn't want you to know. I didn't want you worrying about me," he sighs, eyebrows drawing up in a plea to drop the matter.
"Bucky, you're my best friend. I'm always going to worry about you. I always have and I always will. You were always the one taking care of me. Let me take care of you."
"I don't need you to."
"I want to, Buck. You've been through a lot."
Bucky drops his head back against the couch with a huff. "I can't."
"And why not?" Steve questions roughly.
"Because I can't hurt you, Steve," Bucky shouts, standing and throwing his hands in the air. "And don't you talk about how I won't, because I saw that look in your eyes last night. You want your Bucky back, but I can barely remember him. He's not the one in charge anymore; he's just a voice in my head, battling the Winter Soldier day in and day out. He knows this is killing you, and he's telling me to stop, but I can't. I have to do this. I have to fix the mess I made and I have to do it by myself!" Bucky runs his fingers through his hair, heaving out a sigh. He watches Steve's face, waiting for some reaction, but the man is frozen. They're still standing frozen when Bucky's phone rings.
"Hello?" he says, and Catherine's voice over the other line startles him. He doesn't know why. She's the only person who could be calling.
"Hey, James. I was wondering if you wanted to come over this afternoon for movies," she asks, and he can hear her smile.
"Yeah, that sounds great," he replies. "I'll be over in a while."
"Great, see you then," she replies, and the line goes dead.
Bucky slips the phone back into his pocket. He's reluctant to meet Steve's eyes again, but he does, and he sees exactly what he expected. Hurt. It's his job to protect Steve, though. That's one thing he definitely remembers.
"That was Catherine," Bucky mumbles, his eyes dropping to the floor. "She invited me over tonight."
Steve forces a smile. "You should go."
"I am," he replies quietly. "But," he begins, but Steve interrupts him.
"Have fun. Take a night off. Get some rest. Please."
Bucky nods somberly. "Thanks."