"Sharon, I get it…you funded our operation…you've got that woman, the Widow." He kept his voice low. "I know we need to process the rescue; I agree…but what I'm telling you is not here, not tonight." He mock punched the fridge.
"Yes…I am aware that you need our data….I understand the intel she's providing is time-sensitive but we…" He rolled his eyes and added some expressive body language. "No, not here…this is our home...it is off limits."
He crossed to the kitchen bulletin board, "I don't get why you're so insistent about meeting here…" He pawed through the various mundane items; grimacing at the list of 'Steve's rules' that Sam had posted.
There was a second list; the handwriting shaky; 'Bucky's rules.' A response to Steve's much longer list. Steve sighed quietly as he traced a finger across the lettering:
No touching…unless I ask or touch first.
No talking or texting about me.
No strangers or ex-friends.
No eating my ice cream.
No leaving without telling Steve first.
No leaving without the cell phone.
No self harm.
Bucky had reluctantly conceded the last three when Steve insisted. It tore at his heart to see Bucky struggle to agree to the 'no self harm' concession.
He was jerked back into the conversation; "Interrogate? Did you just say interrogate my acquaintance? Are you joking? That woman tortured him and you want to interrogate him?" Steve kicked at the back door, a littler harder than the mock punch to the fridge."Oh, so I'm coddling him…no, I disagree…categorically and yes he…we, are more than capable of this mission."
He crossed to glance into the living room; he was afraid Bucky was listening to him break rule number two. "Your agenda is not more important than the people who live here." He could see Bucky sitting on the sofa. Steve found he had to put his eyes on him every fifteen minutes or so. Even if Nat had banned touching him…he could look.
Since getting him back, Steve had to keep checking on him; watching him….as if he would somehow disappear. He found himself staring for long moments at inopportune times; that got annoying fast… "Stop staring at me, Steve…" Bucky had made his discomfort clear…."No staring when showering...or naked…or peeing!" Steve groaned at having to be told the last one.
"What? Tomorrow?" He was relieved by her change in focus "Right, tomorrow night at the warehouse. I will check with my team and let you know…Yes…the team gets to vote, Sharon."
Bucky was tucked cross-legged in the corner of the sofa, using his fingers to shovel in the left over kung pao chicken from Sam's "I'm starving" episode three nights previous. He was staring at the blank TV screen.
"Watching your favorite program, Buck?"
"Yup." Bucky ignored the attempt at teasing.
Steve grabbed the debrief paperwork and joined him on the sofa.
"That chicken's still good?" His skepticism was driven by Bucky's profound lack of skills in discerning when food had spoiled.
"Yup. Want some?" Bucky held the container under Steve's nose.
"Nope." Steve cautiously pushed the container away from his face and propped his feet on the coffee table.
"You were talking about me to that woman."
Steve frowned as he kept reading "You mean Sharon. We never said your name."
"Not good enough….it was still about me. With her." Steve was clearly missing the point.
"You're right…she wanted to come here to debrief about the rescue mission and I said no."
"Thanks for that. But not a rescue…I escaped."
"Right…escape…it was a taxi mission."
Steve tried to focus on reading and ignore the way Bucky licked at each piece of chicken before he took a languid bite.
He decided to launch into preparing him for the debriefing "So, she's going to ask you about what happened."
Bucky licked his thumb slowly…"What happened?"
"You know, the time you were captive."
"Oh." He sucked at his index finger and pulled another piece of chicken out to lick, slowly every little crevice. "Why?"
Steve tried to not give in to the distraction of Bucky's increasingly provocative consumption of the kung pao chicken.
"Well…they have your…. captor…in captivity and want to ask you about what happened."
Bucky licked at his middle finger, long slow strokes of his tongue up one side and down the other; all while staring pointedly at Steve. "My captor is in captivity. How poetic."
He slurped out the last bite and tossed the container on the table next to Steve's foot; leveling his best "Whaddya gonna do about that" stare at him. He waited for the hundredth poor hygiene lecture since he got home.
Steve kept reading the report, lecturing himself "I will not lecture."
"I'm sure she told them all about it. They don't need me." He continued the methodical application of his tongue to every surface of his fingers.
Steve could feel his cheeks finally give in to the blush that he knew Bucky was trying to elicit. He didn't miss the smirk that settled on his face as he watched Steve shift uncomfortably.
"Buck…you need to take this seriously…they're going to ask you what she did to you and why." Steve finally looked at him.
"I am very serious about this, Steve." He sucked at his pinkie finger.
"I can see that…you're serious about flirting with me…or at least getting me to turn red. But I'm talking about that Widow."
Bucky stopped mid-suck to watch Steve thoughtfully.
"You think I'm flirting? I'm just eating sticky chicken, Steve." He finished sucking on his finger.
Steve turned to confront him. "How can you do that? We're talking about someone who tortured you not even two days ago and you're sucking fingers and getting me to turn red. Aren't you angry about what she did to you? I know I'm fucking furious about it."
Bucky dropped his hand to his lap.
Steve studied him; thinking he looked pensive at first then he saw Bucky's demeanor change; he seemed distracted; as if he was listening to someone else in the room.
Might as well just tell him, Soldier. He's stubborn..he'll keep pestering you until he knows. Maybe it's better this way…no more guessing…no more secrets.
"Well I gotta have some secrets." Bucky answered the Voice but Steve responded.
"Sure, Buck but they want to interview you. Sharon plans on grilling you. I don't want you walking in there unprepared for that."
Soldier, tell him about Mother. He'll stop asking then. He'll be angry.
"I don't want to tell him. You don't know him like I do. He'll never stop asking." Bucky laughed "But you're right…he'll be really really pissed when I tell him."
"Who are you talking to?" Steve was surprised by Bucky's answer. He turned slightly to follow Bucky's gaze, knowing that no one was going to be there. "Pal, are you ok?""Bucky…look at me. No…really…look at me." Steve leaned closer to try and get his attention. He watched his friend blink and refocus on him.
"I'm talking to you…what's wrong with you, Steve?"
Steve stared at him; Bucky had responded to the mention of the old Widow by talking to someone…not there.
"Forget it…I think it's better if you don't tell them anything. Ok?"
"I can tell you Steve…if you really want to know." Bucky spoke softly.
Steve searched for the right answer regretting he ever brought up what he'd been through.
"You don't have to tell me anything. I don't need to know and neither does Sharon. You're right. That woman will tell them or she won't; you don't need to answer their questions."
Steve took a long look at his friend. So many emotions rolling around in his heart; concern, affection, rage; the Bucky in front of him was forever changed from his childhood friend. Steve was willing to admit he was perplexed by this version; intrigued by the sultry stare as he licked his fingers all while sitting there with bed-head and a Captain America T shirt on.
Steve shook himself out of yet another episode of Bucky musings "So we need to get moving, pal." He jumped up from the sofa and unconsciously ruffled Bucky's hair as he passed him. "Big day today…gotta get your arm fixed." Bucky leaned into Steve's touch for as long as it lasted then Steve was gone up the stairs.
You were flirting with him, pal. You don`t even like sticky chicken.
"Yeah, yeah. A guy can flirt can't he? Not that he'll ever do anything about it."
He saw you talking to me. You can`t hide me much longer.
"I know…I saw that. Soon…maybe….maybe he`ll be ok with you."
"Why did you give him the keys to the truck?" Natasha groaned in frustration.
"He said it would make him feel more in control if he had the keys." Steve was defensive.
"You trusted him with the keys." Sam was equally astonished at Steve's misjudgment.
"I wasn't thinking he'd lock himself in. Most people lock themselves out of vehicles; not lock themselves in." Steve returned their frustration.
Steve, Nat and Sam stood in a line; in front of the truck as it sat parked in the sweltering sun. Bucky was locked in with the windows shut tight.
About an hour before that things were going a lot better: Bucky wandered shyly into the living room.
Steve sputtered out his coffee when he laid eyes on him. "Wow, you look great."
Bucky was clean-shaven; his hair tucked back in a low pony-tail, compliments of Natasha.
"Who knew you could put hair up without actually touching a person." She threw in as she saw Steve's shocked, bordering on lust-full stare.
Bucky had on a dark grey Henley that wrapped his chest nearly as intimately as Steve's shirts did. The black jeans hugged his ass so well Steve didn't need to imagine much about what he looked like beneath the material. The wild-eyed pressured look of paranoia was missing, at least for the moment but the closer it came to go-time the more he unraveled.
"Bucky come on…you can do this…you want to be able to lift your arm, right. You can step off the porch, buddy." Steve begged quietly.
"Barnes, damn it, you're the Winter Soldier…channel that badass. Get in the truck." Sam urged.
"James, I still owe you fifty dollars…how 'bout I make it an even one hundred and we get on the road here." Natasha tried bribery which almost worked but Bucky couldn't remember why she owed him fifty dollars so he was a no-go on that plan.
Bucky stood immobile on the porch; his metal arm wrapped around the column as tightly as he could; given the malfunction.
"You don't understand, Steve…every time I leave the house bad shit happens to me. I get kidnapped, choppers swoop in, evil handlers show up, Hydra's chasing me, even that damn horse bit me." He mumbled.
Steve slipped behind Bucky to rest his chin on his flesh shoulder. "I get it." He ran his hand across his lower back "But we're going to take back their power over us. Right?"
Bucky whispered "Everything freezes on the inside; I can`t think, I can`t breath or move."
"I know, I get it." Steve wrapped his hand around Bucky's wrist and fingered the gold cord. "We can do this. You can do this. One minute at a time."
Bucky's tension eased just enough to allow Steve`s gentle tug on his wrist to pull him away from the porch and down the stairs.
But now the looming backdoor to the clinic brought a fresh wave of anxiety and the ill-thought out plan of locking himself in the truck.
Steve crossed to the passenger door's closed window.
"Buck, come on. You know everyone here. You agreed to do this. We're going to wreck shit, remember?"
"Plus we're going to that burger place after we're done here." In addition to the prospect of putting some hurt on Hydra, Steve had thrown in the added perk of "all you can eat burgers and fries" to finally get Bucky into the truck.
Steve stood as close as he could to the window and whispered "You can lick your fingers all you want…I'll even watch."
Bucky stared at the floor of the truck, rocking ever so slightly.
"I can't. My feet won't move. I'm sorry." He whispered.
Steve decided to go inside to see if Jonah or Alex could help. "Please keep an eye on him." He begged Sam and Natasha as he went for help.
Sam announced "I do not want to watch Barnes lick anything."
Natasha leaned on Sam and looked thoughtfully "Hmmm…"
"Twenty bucks says I can get him out of the truck." Sam offered.
"Seriously? You think he'll get out for you when he's mutely ignoring Steve?"
"We've bonded. He'll do it for me." Sam was very confident.
"Bonded?" Natasha huffed. "How'd that happen?"
"Not sure, but he used my name. We're buds now. You're still the Red Head." Sam offered her a smug smile.
"Really? Ok you're on. Fifty bucks." Natasha played hardball.
"Three minutes each…flip a coin to see who goes first."
Sam won the toss.
"Barnes. If you get out…we'll go get ice cream right down the road…I'm buying. 52 flavors, I hear the Moose Tracks one is great." Sam tried the food as a bribe method and after three minutes of cajoling; begging, and persuading all he got was Bucky's metal middle finger.
"You're up." He conceded to Nat.
Two minutes and 58 seconds later: Bucky's feet were on the ground; the keys were in Natasha's pocket; Steve was at the back door of the clinic with Jonah; and Sam's jaw was slack. "How the hell…."
Nat winked at him.
Steve mouthed 'Thank you`as he ushered Bucky into the clinic.
"Was that some kind of ex-assassin camaraderie thing?"
Natasha showed him her phone. "I told him I'd show him this while he got his arm worked on."
Sam looked over her shoulder; it was the edited security video from the chopper brawl. It was a beautiful display of Natasha's stun discs taking Sharon down over and over and over.
"Cheater." But Sam was impressed.
You really screwed it up this time, Soldier. That damn piece of machinery isn't a toy.
Bucky sat completely still on the exam table, his eyes squeezed shut. His stomach, heart and emotions were wound around one another in a twisted knot of terror and pain. The explosion was waiting for just the right push to pour his raging feelings out and all over anyone in his path.
You're lucky there are grown ups around to fix that thing. You're a pathetic loser. You didn't need to throw yourself around like that; you're a Soldier, trained to respond methodically not like some scared shitless novice.
Bucky tried to slow his breathing; he grabbed at the emotions whirling past in his mind and pulled them back in; something about a leaf kept bumping down his rage.
Now you'll never be able to fight; never shoot a gun again, you're worthless to us. Worthless to anyone. Even that blonde headed muscle-man Captain America won't want you. Broken arm, broken mind, broken spirit.
"Shut up…just shut the fuck up. Get away from me." Bucky growled angrily.
The technicians working on his arm froze.
"Ah….he's ok. No worries." Steve voice brought him out of his inner dialogue.
Bucky opened his eyes to see Steve standing beside him, his hand on his flesh shoulder. He saw the frightened workers backing away from him. He hated that look.
"Sorry…sorry…I…wasn't talking to you…." He groaned. "I'm sorry… It's ok, I'm ok."
Steve looked across the room for Cassie to weigh in.
"James, this is clearly too stressful for you. You're self-dialoguing; your heart rate is accelerated, you're diaphoretic. I know you hate the idea of medications and IVs but they've been working for an hour and can't get past basic testing. Let me start an IV and have you relax. You'll sleep through it. Steve and your friends will be right here."
Steve stood as close as he could without touching him. "Please do this Buck…I won't leave…I won't let them hurt you. I'll carry you out of here myself if I think something is going wrong." Steve had to use all of his self-restraint to keep from stroking Bucky's cheek; to keep from pulling him close.
"Carry me out?" He laughed shakily. "Have Wilson videotape that."
"I was talking wasn't' I?" Bucky asked but didn't ask. He knew the truth of it.
"Yeah..a lot. The techs are scared." Steve reluctantly told him.
"Ok, ok…I get it. I need to do this. Ok, I'll let her do the medications."
Steve nodded to Cassie.
"Don't leave me." He muttered quietly
"No way…staying right here."
"And have Wilson come in. And, the Red…Romanova."
"You got it. We'll all be here when you wake up."
Steve couldn't refrain from the touch; he placed his palm on Bucky's cheek and stole a moment of a caress before the others came in.
Natasha Googled the best burger joint near Hope, New York while Bucky was under.
Steve parked the truck in a far corner of the parking lot; it was long past dark when they finally emerged from the clinic.
"You ok?"
"Great. Feeling great." Bucky gave him a thumbs up and nodded vigorously. He was a bit slapstick happy in the wake of the procedure medications.
"Locking you in. Be right back. I have the keys." He held them up to assure himself more than Bucky.
Steve laughed nearly out loud as he waited for their food as he recalled how the procedure went. Once Bucky was medicated enough to relax, it became a matter of keeping him subdued to get the work done. Steve replayed Bucky's disinhibited chatter:
"How hot is Steve?" He whispered loudly to Sam and Natasha across the room.
Then he laughed hysterically while watching Nat's video "That was so great; you kept her from shooting me." He reached absently for Natasha's hand. "Thank you so much."
It got serious when he started to talk about the old widow;
"Mother wanted to help me. She tried to take the words out." He tapped his head awkwardly.
"I told her she'd fuck up my arm with that damn stun prod."
Everyone shuffled with discomfort.
He finally dozed off but not before he revealed to the entire room "I so want to fuck Steve."
"No kidding." Natasha muttered.
"Too much info there buddy." Sam laughed.
Everyone stifled their laughter when Steve blurted out: "Oh my god!" and awkwardly fumbled to put his hand over Bucky's mouth.
"If you repeat what he said I will kill you in your sleep." Steve threatened both Natasha and Sam as they headed home.
Steve found a remote picnic table and settled Bucky in with a large tray of cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings and milk shakes. He sat down next to him.
"Steve…I can't remember seeing this much food ever." Bucky made an expansive gesture that nearly knocked over a young girl walking by him. He was still pretty disinhibited from the massive dose of anti-anxiety medications and muscle relaxants needed to get him through the procedure.
"Ooops..sorry little girl." Bucky reached for her but pulled back. Despite the long sleeve Henley, he wasn't hung over enough to forget about his metal hand being uncovered.
"So how's the arm now?"
"Great!" He demonstrated a tight lethal looking fist; picked up an onion ring and popped it in his mouth. He reached out and touched Steve's hand; "I can feel you."
Steve smiled at the touch. "How much can you feel with it?"
Bucky grabbed a cluster of French fries and answered as he chewed.
"Hot, cold, pressure, weight. Not like this hand." He waved his right hand at him. "But enough to pull a trigger; feel a pulse."
They ate in silence for a minute.
Steve wondered "Does it feel pain? I mean, are you still in pain?"
"You mean like when a bullet hits it? No. That's pressure and heat." He slurped down the first milk shake.
"But yeah, my shoulder hurts….all the time. Better now, then again….good drugs." He shrugged as he ate half a burger in one bite.
The 'good drugs' gave Steve access to more truth than Bucky would have ever shared without them.
Steve watched Bucky eat; watched his animated gestures; listened to his happy yet sarcastic chatter. He could see the before Bucky, his friend from Brooklyn. But the now Bucky was there. Dark, dangerous; changed by the damage. His complexity drew him in but it was colored by regret that it took a massive amount of drugs to open this window.
Steve resolved silently "Somehow I'll find a way in."
Bucky started laughing "Steve, you said I could lick and you'd watch. Romanova and Wilson were grossed out, you should've seen their faces!" He was eating the fries one at a time and licking at the salt and ketchup left behind. Steve watched as promised.
Bucky's laughter died down and he looked subdued; no maybe something else. He smiled at Steve and picked up another fry; he took a bite and then offered the rest of it to Steve.
"What are you doing?" Steve asked a little naively.
"I'm offering you food." Bucky drawled.
"I can get it myself." Steve tried to ignore the sultry look being directed at him.
"It's better this way." Bucky purred.
"How is it better coming from your dirty hands?" Steve tried to ignore his invitation.
"It's better because when you eat it, you'll have to lick my fingers." He suggested innocently. Bucky moved his hand closer to Steve's mouth. He licked at his bottom lip anticipating Steve's tongue on his fingers.
"I can get my own, Buck." Steve made a pathetic attempt to stop his hand; but his fingers caressed Bucky`s wrist. He knew he was going to take that offered food; he would run his tongue over Bucky's fingers; he knew it would end with his tongue curled around Bucky's about 10 seconds after initial contact.
"Might as well give up now." He sighed.
Steve parted his lips to allow the food in his mouth; followed by Bucky's fingers. Steve tasted the salt and sweetness; tasted Bucky's skin. Steve groaned quietly as he felt the metal fingers grab at his hip.
Bucky leaned in closer to watch Steve's tongue work along his flesh; his breath was warm on Steve's cheek; he ran his tongue across Steve's ear and smiled at the shudder it created.
Steve's hand slipped around Bucky's throat; he pulled him closer to replace the fingers with his tongue. The kiss was deep, all-consuming and hungry; full of nearly a century of desire. He could feel the power of Bucky's want of him; the push of it was almost frightening. Steve pulled at Bucky's waist; he winced at the pleasure-pain of Bucky's metal fingers digging into his hip. Steve gave in to his need for Bucky.
Their kiss was threatening to overwhelm them when Steve suddenly became aware of their surroundings. Maybe it was the cool night breeze, maybe the rough wooden bench or maybe it was the mother's voice saying "Don't look dear." As she shielded the little girl past them.
Steve struggled to push Bucky away.
"Wait, we can't do this." Steve choked out and pulled further away.
"Yes. Yes we can do this." Bucky pulled him back in trying to hold onto the moment.
"No. We can't. You're hung over; those drugs; this isn't right."
"So what..I know what I'm doing. So do you. No one's forcing me." Bucky protested petulantly.
"Bucky, we're in public." Steve pulled away again.
"Steve…you kissed me back. You felt it, I felt it. Don't stop it." Bucky sounded desperate as he grabbed at Steve's jacket to pull him close again.
"Buck…yes. I feel it but, we can't do this now." He put both hands on Bucky's chest and pushed him back.
A flash of anger crossed Bucky's face. "What? Now as in here? Ok so let's go home. Or what..not home? Right…Birdman and the Red Head are there. So, ok the truck..we can do it in the truck."
"No. Not here. Not at home. Not in the truck. Not now." Steve firmly ended the argument.
The hurt he saw on Bucky's face was something he would not forget.
Bucky pushed away from the table angrily and retreated to the truck.
Steve dropped his head into his hands and sighed "Ok, Nat you were right. I'm an idiot."
The ride home was less than an hour but it felt like four. Steve could feel Bucky's anger like the heat thrown off by a raging fire. He tore the scrunchie out of his hair and rolled the window down to let the wind catch his hair.
For a fleeting moment, a very quick moment, Steve thought about the puppy analogy. It had lost all of its humor.
"We need to talk, Buck." Steve said quietly.
"I don't want to…talk." His sarcasm was palpable.
"Well, maybe I need to talk."
Steve couldn't see the snarl that crossed Bucky's face.
"I'm sorry, Buck…I let that go too far. That was my fault." Steve was replaying the "Dodger is vulnerable" homework that he did not do.
Bucky nodded then shook his head. "Right…of course. You let that happen. All your fault."
"Yes. I should've been more responsible. I let that happen and now you're angry and hurt, the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you."
"Oh, I forgot, Steve Rogers, the good and noble Captain America…controls everything. You think you hurt me?" Bucky`s voice dropped low "You have no idea what hurt really is."
Steve missed his hurt comment and forged ahead. "No, Buck, not true…you know me, you know the real me. I'm just trying to say….I should know better. I should be watching out for you…"
Bucky snapped "Yeah, like I'm some stray dog." He jerked around towards Steve:
" So if you're the responsible one, what's that make me? Huh? Makes me the irresponsible one. Right?"
"No. That's not what I said or meant. I just meant….I know you've been through a lot and I need to not let….. stuff happen."
"Maybe I wanted stuff to happen; maybe you want stuff to happen; maybe you should get honest with yourself."
Steve ignored the get honest jab; "you're vulnerable…you've been through hell…it's only been a few months and before that, you were in cryo and before that I only just found you."
"I'm what? Vulnerable? Who have you been talking to?" Bucky laughed sarcastically.
Steve pulled the truck down the driveway. He had really hoped they could have ended this argument before they got home. Bucky threw the door open before the truck had come to a stop.
"You are so full of shit, Steve." He spit out as he slammed the door shut.
"Bucky, come on…they're asleep." Not anymore.
"Too fucking bad." The battle moved to the front of the truck.
Steve lowered his voice,"What I'm trying to say is that you've been hurt; too much has happened to you; I don't want to take advantage of that."
Bucky didn't take the cue to quiet his attack "So…too much has happened…that means what…I'm too far gone…I don't get a life..I don't get to kiss someone or fuck them; I just get to wallow around in this state of always being cared for like some fucking stray dog."
"I'm not saying any of that." Steve shook his head as he reached to calm him.
"Don't fucking touch me." He rasped as he slapped his hand away.
Bucky growled "Know what, Steve, I get it…actually. I get what you're saying. All this time you've said it over and over. You're the responsible one; you're taking care of me; you're the handler."
Steve shook his head 'no' emphatically.
Bucky stepped closer but didn't lower his voice: "What you're really saying is…I'm defective. I'm crazy. I'm too fucked up to mess with. Oh yeah, the noble Steve Rogers will be my friend and protect me, he'll show all his buddies how good he is by standing by his best friend from childhood…you'll make sure everyone sees that Rogers. But when we're behind closed doors…I'm too fucked up for you. Too broken for you to be with. I know what you're saying."
Steve didn't back away from his anger physically but: "You are so far from the truth of it."
Bucky shook his head. For a few seconds it seemed like the fight was over; he stepped towards the front porch…then stopped with his back to Steve.
Bucky muttered "Ya know, maybe that voice in my head is right…maybe it's time for a confession or two."
He took a deep breath; closed his eyes; "I've…..wanted you….since the beginning…. of time. Since long before the army or the serum or Zola or Hydra. But I never thought you felt the same way so I was happy to keep it locked away, I could wonder and want and jerk off once in awhile thinking about you and call it good."
Steve stepped towards him and murmured "I had no idea…I was thinking the same…."
Bucky cut him off: "Then you woke me up with that stupid line on the helicarrier. I couldn't remember shit, but that line; the feeling that I had something with you just kept nagging at my brain but I was too…..afraid….. to go look for you." His voice got quieter as he turned to face Steve. "Then you showed up in Bucharest and you chased me…you dragged that damn chopper out of the sky to keep me there. I started to think, well maybe Rogers might feel the way I do…maybe he would…. want me."
Steve couldn't see Bucky's expression or his eyes; the porch lights were dim and the house lights were off but he could hear the hope in his voice. "Buck…I had no idea…I feel the same…."
Bucky shook his head and spun away from Steve with a wild gesture slapping himself on the head; "What an idiot…I am. Of course you wouldn't want me…I'm crazy."
Steve stepped towards him, "No…that isn't it at all…you`re wrong."
"No? Really? I see how you look at me when it happens, when I get crazy." He turned back to confront him. "Let`s finish this…..I see dead people, Steve…I still see them…they don't talk to me much anymore, that would be the meds. But they're still there, like some fucking entourage."
Steve ran his hands through his hair "Stop it, this isn`t healthy."
Bucky started to laugh "Not healthy? You finally get my point. " He closed the metal fist and tapped it to his temple; "I hear voices. Actually one voice…he, it, talks to me all the time, even when you're talking..he's always there…like some sick running commentary on my life. On a bad day he tells me what a pathetic mess I am; on a good day….I trust him."
"Please stop this Bucky, this is crazy…" the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
Bucky let out a sarcastic laugh then sighed "I especially enjoy when Stark's mother comes around…she brings the seizures. She's scary as shit."
Bucky pushed into Steve`s chest; his hair brushed Steve's cheek as he whispered. "I know what happened back there. You felt it, you felt what I did when we kissed. You wanted it, just like I did and now you're acting like it was a big mistake. You tell yourself you're the good Steve Rogers, loyal friend, noble savior; but you are full of shit. Keep lying to yourself. I know the truth. I know you wanted that tonight. I know at least for a few minutes you wanted me."
Steve slumped down against the hood of the truck as he watched Bucky disappear into the house. He thought about waking Natasha…."scratch that," he glanced up at Nat`s open window. He waited expectantly for her to show up.
Bucky marched straight to his bedroom; the sound of the bureau being jammed against the door was evidence enough of how pissed he was.
Steve appreciated Nat`s discretion.
He texted his therapist instead. "I screwed up."
"How bad?"
"Let it go too far."
"First base vs home run?"
"First base."
"Ok so game's not over yet. We'll talk tomorrow. Don't give up."
Even his therapist used code to talk about Bucky.
The mood at the house before heading for the meeting was grim.
"What the hell happened to you two?" Sam corralled Steve in the gym.
"Nothing to discuss." Steve was reticent.
"Really? He's usually attached to your hip; you've been locked in the tactical room for two hours; he's barricaded in his bedroom….nothing to discuss?"
"Nothing to discuss."
"Look, I'm not trying to pry. I might actually give a shit about you, even Barnes."
"I'm sorry, I know. Thanks…it just needs time." Steve clapped his hand on Sam's shoulder.
Natasha stood with her arms crossed leaning against the staircase. "You did it, didn't you? You slept with him?"
"Slept with him? I do that on occasion." Steve deflected.
"You're going to make me say 'fucked him'?"
"No. We didn't do that."
"So why is he sulking and you're pathetically wandering the house?"
Sam and Nat exchanged a knowing look before he retreated upstairs. They had overheard the exchange the night before.
Steve wrapped his hands to prepare for a long and angry punching session.
"He kissed me…again. I couldn't stop…I kissed him back. It was…Look I stopped it, he's pissed, we'll talk when he's ready."
He just spent two hours hashing it out with his therapist…the one no one knew about. He didn't want to go over it again with his friend.
"Steve…" Natasha started.
"Nat…you're my friend, I appreciate your concern and support…I've talked this out with someone…please let it go." He turned to the punching bag.
Natasha shrugged as she left him to his catharsis. But added as she went up the stairs.
"Keep something in mind, Steve. We are about to go out into the field with both of you. We need to trust one another with our lives. You don't have to use me as a therapist but there needs to be some truth and trust here. We need to be a team; I hope you two can get your shit together soon."
"We`re a go for tomorrow." Sharon was standing in the empty loft that served as their makeshift headquarters.
"The Rogers angle is a bust." She scratched at the glass of the window.
"That old woman had her own agenda, she went soft on him. This is my operation now."
She frowned and added "I will make good on my promises. Give me time. He`ll come in and I will deliver as promised."
She laughed "Impressive? Yes. Very. The insanity in his eyes is an added bonus…you`ll be very pleased."