"Let it go, Barnes…just let it go." Bucky muttered as he worked to shake off the old memories. He tried to focus on the drive home. It was long after the debriefing; he could see the brake light on the bike jittering along ahead of him. His mind wandered to the comfort of knowing it was Steve; that he was following Steve, not a target, not an operative; that he was going home with Steve.
"Damn I'm tired." He groaned as he stretched his back and tilted his head to let the cool night air wash over him. But the dull hum of truck tires along the pavement; the distant roar of the bike pulled him to wander into the landscape of his memories.
A strapping man with short blonde hair and striking blue eyes entered the room where Bucky was curled in the corner. It was early in the process of his creation; Hydra's methods were crude; Bucky was stubborn, defiant. There was something familiar about the man; Bucky didn't spend much energy on why.
They had tried drugs, torture, deprivation; it all worked to beat him down but not break him. Until one day they dragged him into a room and showed him a newsreel. "Don't be a fool, soldier…it's over…the war is over…you belong to us now." He stared impassively at the films, it didn't matter about the war; all that mattered was Steve. Bucky's battered mind held onto one image. Steve's outstretched hand as he fell from the train. "He'll look for me. He'll find me." Bucky held tight to that mantra through everything they did to him.
Until that day.
"Look soldier, here's the proof, your precious Captain America is dead, he's gone." A nameless faceless man whispered close to his ear. "He's not coming for you. He left you for dead and now he's dead. You belong to us now."
Bucky spent three days in that room with Steve's death; the images playing over and over around him. He cried at first, for Steve, then for himself; then he embraced the inevitable; he'd die resisting them….he'd follow Steve into the cold, maybe even find him again after death, if anything his mom had said was true, "I'll find you, Steve. I promise."
Then the strapping young man showed up. He wasn't like the others. He spoke in perfect English with a hint of New York in it; he moved with a grace that complimented his size and muscled body; it felt familiar.
He spoke with kindness "I'm sorry you lost him. He meant everything to you, I can see that." He slid down the wall and sat quietly next to Bucky for what seemed like hours. There were no more films; no more beatings; no more torture. Only the handler with kind words and a soft smile; like Steve's. He was unlike any of the others; he'd look Bucky right in the eye; something none of the others would allow. Bucky would try to resist but instead of a beating this handler would laugh; a full and contagious laugh, not unkind but encouraging; it was hard to resist.
Bucky started to trust him; he was so much like Steve. The way he moved, his words, the look of him; the way he'd pull him in to whisper secrets that weren't really secrets, just a way to be close; to win him over. The whispers evolved into touch; a hand on his shoulder or chest; an arm around him, across his lower back, encouraging him, comforting him. His heart and body ached for Steve; that never seemed to lessen despite the grueling training and indoctrination. But their crude early attempts at wiping his memory pushed him over the edge. His life was gone; his family, the war….but the last memory to linger was Steve and the handler took advantage of that. Hydra counted on it.
None of these memories surfaced in DC or Bucharest or Siberia. The kiss on the roof didn't make them surface; neither did the kiss at the burger joint. Not until tonight when Steve caressed the tender skin across his belly, when he slowly ran his fingers down the front of his jeans and flirted with his cock. He longed for that moment for a lifetime only to have it consumed by the ghost of that long ago handler that led him into his life as the Winter Soldier.
"Come on, Barnes….ancient history…forget about what they did to you….it's pointless." Bucky closed his eyes for a moment; he was so tired, he couldn't remember the last time he slept for more than 30 minutes. "Compartmentalize, buddy….that's your specialty." He opened his eyes in time to see the deer looming in his headlights; but not in time to stop.
"What the hell was I thinking; I grabbed him, I threw him against the truck; I held his head and forced him to kiss me. I'm a complete idiot." Steve was perseverating as he navigated the back road home. There were no streetlights, a lake to the right; a half moon barely lit the road; it would have been a beautiful ride if not for the all consuming guilt of once again violating Bucky's trust….at least that's how he was feeling.
"Damn, then I tell him 'your choice..you decide.. I've got him in a damn headlock but it's his choice..Rogers…you're so utterly selfish." He started to wonder if his self-talk was anything like Bucky's voices. He wondered if he could ask him someday. Steve considered pulling over to talk to him, to apologize, grovel in a very big way, at how much of an idiot he had been when he noticed the truck headlights abruptly veer off to the left, then right and disappear towards the lake.
"What the hell…." He skidded to a halt and swung the bike around.
"Fuck…." Bucky tumbled out of the truck and crawled through the bushes to get back up to the road. The deer was no where to be seen; he didn't recall a thump; he vaguely recalled the windshield was intact; "Ok, ok, good, I didn't hit it; didn't kill it..good…no more killing…I can't kill anything anymore."
The lack of a body was a relief but now his anxiety kicked into full throttle intensity; he staggered back towards the truck and fell to his hands and knees; gasping for air; his head and heart pounding.
"Bucky? What happened? You ok?" Steve skidded to a halt; obedient to Bucky's hand signaling him to stop.
"I'm ok, ok…wait….just wait." He drew in quick ragged breaths in between the words.
Steve hovered nearby; it took all of his self control to not put his hands on him. He watched Bucky struggle to recover. He followed cautiously as he pulled himself up and stumbled towards the lake. "Buck, be careful…let me help you." He could barely see him but made out the faint shake of his head 'no'. He heard the splash of water and darted forward; Bucky was kneeling at the edge, palming water on his face and neck.
"Hey, pal…can I sit here. I swear I won't touch you. I just want to be able to see you." Steve couldn't hide his worry.
Bucky nodded and pointed to the ground.
Steve settled at the designated spot and waited.
"A deer…I almost hit a deer." He rasped out, but saying the words out loud opened the door for the sobbing.
Steve struggled against the urge to reach out to comfort him. He willed himself to sit still; to be satisfied with being present. He watched and waited.
"Sorry…not sure where that came from." Bucky wiped at his face and pulled up his defenses.
"I get the feeling that wasn't about the deer so much." Steve said quietly.
Bucky huffed out a small laugh. For a moment he thought about continuing the lie; but he knew there was nothing more to lose by telling the truth. He'd lost everything once; now he had him back; lying risked losing him for good. So he told the truth.
"No..nope…it isn't about the deer. Although…I really didn't want to hit that poor animal." He shuddered a little as he pictured the frightened look it gave him. He hated that look.
Steve took a chance "It's about me. What I did back there. I put my hands on you; I forced you to do something you didn't want to do."
Bucky shook his head 'No.' then "Steve, it's more complicated than that. I started it, remember? I kissed you on the roof; I fucking stuck my hand down your throat in public for god's sake." He cringed at the memory; fighting off the feelings of shame for forcing things with Steve only to feel rejected for it. "I flirt with you every chance I can." He started laughing. "You're so ridiculously gullible. You believed me when I said it made me feel safer to shower with the door open." He laughed harder. "I did it to tease you. To make you look at me, to stare at me." He drew in a breath to keep from sobbing again. "I knew I could count on you…I see how you look at me. What happened tonight...I wanted that to happen, I did."
"But you pushed me away…you said you didn't want that…I forced it. You made the list of rules..'no touching unless I say ok or touch first' a simple rule and I keep breaking it every chance I get."
"That rule is really for Romanova." Bucky said dryly.
Steve frowned "Liar."
"Ok so maybe more than her...Steve…a lot of shit happened to me….I don't tell you about it; probably will never tell you. What's the point really. It's over and done…"
"But it isn't." Steve finished his sentence.
"Yeah, well, some things seem to be hanging on." He admitted.
Bucky could hear the words in his head…what he was about to say; might confess; he pushed himself up to buy some time; think it through before plunging into the abyss of telling Steve about the handler. Confessing why he pushed him away; letting Steve into his frightening world of ghosts and nightmares.
He crossed to the truck to turn the headlights off; digging up his courage. Steve followed him but kept his distance; standing at the back of the truck to keep track of him. Bucky didn't find it annoying; it made him feel safe; although he made the 'no staring' rule…it was actually a joke because Steve was so damn gullible.
Bucky dropped the tailgate and sat down; he patted the spot next to him "Don't overreact. That's my department. Sit down." Steve complied.
"Ok…so here goes….Hydra did a lot of shit..I ain't gonna tell you most of it…any of it…" He groaned "well maybe this one thing because it now appears to be relevant."
He sighed. "So….there were handlers, people who were responsible for…me.…always a handler….some worse than others; some savvy, others really stupid."
He pushed aside the temptation to over share about those misadventures. His macabre view of the world wouldn't appeal to Steve's sense of honor.
He kept going: "Early on…it was harder…I was so full of righteous stubbornness. One of them…." He diverted slightly "You know…. they told me you died….they told me, showed me the newsreels…Captain America crashes into the ice and dies."
Steve sucked in a breath.
"They laughed; put me in a room with the film playing."
He paused to keep control of his voice.
"They made sure I watched it…'He won't be coming for you, soldier, your Captain won't be rescuing you this time' I didn't believe them at first but after awhile…" his voice trailed off.
"I'm so sorry, so sorry." Steve gripped the edge of the tailgate and shook his head.
"I stopped fighting them; stopped eating….I thought, might as well die too, what else is there? Be their slave, no hope of you finding me…better to die."
Bucky paused then decided to keep going; "Hydra didn't want to lose their investment; such big plans for the Winter Soldier. They brought in a new handler." He took a deep breath; "He spoke English…kinda New York like, had a big laugh; he was tall, blondish hair, muscular…" his voice trailed off as he looked pointedly at Steve.
"No." Steve murmured. "No…Buck…please tell me that didn't really happen…."
"Yeah, well, yeah…that seemed to do the trick…I dunno, I was confused, they'd tried to wipe my memories, I'd lost so much by then; not you, not yet… who the fuck knows…I knew it wasn't you at first….but then, I wasn't so sure….got lost….and well the rest is history I guess."
Steve held his breath as the horror of Bucky's revelation sank in. He was hoping he misunderstood; that he was wrong; he had to ask for more. "What did he do to you?"
"Well, Steve, ah…he…use your imagination, ok…you know how I feel about you, what the fuck do you think happened." Bucky pushed off the tailgate and paced away.
"He forced you…he raped you." Steve stumbled over the word.
"Hard to call it rape when I agreed." Bucky mumbled.
"No…you didn't agree to that." Steve spit out and followed him. "They tricked you. They took advantage of your grief. Bucky they tortured you….wiped away everything you knew and played with your head. You never agreed to any of it. You never agreed to what he did to you."
"Yeah….you can tell yourself that."
"You thought it was me." Steve couldn't hold a check on his emotions; but he was fine with holding a check on his hands. He stood as close to Bucky as he dared to; without reaching out.
"I'll never touch you again…I'm so sorry…." Steve stammered; his eyes stinging.
"Well that defeats the whole purpose of my confession." Bucky drawled. "I told you…don't overreact…that's my job…I don't have much work lately so let me have that…..your job is to be the overachiever; the logical one; I won't say perfect…since that's a big fat myth."
"How can you joke after telling me this?" Steve was grateful it was dark so Bucky didn't see the tears streaming down his face.
"It's called compartmentalizing Steve…It's one of my greatest skills…besides being a sniper."
Bucky moved to face him.
"Compart….I hurt you….I threw you against the truck and…I'm no better than that piece of shit."
"Shut up! Just stop it!" He softened, "You will never be like them. You will never, could never hurt me. If anyone should be wailing with regret it's me…I nearly killed you on that helicarrier and you let me….so don't tell me you hurt me…you couldn't hurt me even when I was trying to kill you for real."
Steve closed his eyes; trying to regain control, when he felt something on his cheek. It was Bucky's fingers, brushing gently at the wetness.
"Stop it. Ok. I'm tougher than you give me credit for but don't tell Wilson and Romanova…I got plans to take financial advantage of their betting about me." Bucky dropped his hand to his side.
Steve had to laugh "Great; it's about time someone taught them a lesson…I never approved of that game by the way."
"Yeah..I know…I read your rules every once in awhile." He shrugged.
Steve took a deep breath, "I meant what I said earlier. The next move, if there is one, is yours. I'm here no matter what even if you never want anything more than our friendship. I won't touch you, I can wait…forever."
"Forever? Shit…with us that could be another 90 years. I dunno if I'd wait that long for you."
The moonlight was enough that Steve could the smirk on Bucky's face. "Jerk."
Bucky reached to touch Steve's face again; he ran his thumb along his jaw and smiled. He murmured "Punk" just as his parted lips tenuously covered Steve's mouth. The kiss was over nearly as soon as it started. Bucky pressed his forehead against Steve's; he slipped his hand behind his head as he whispered "Not forever, Steve, I promise….Please wait for me."
Steve closed his eyes and breathed him in. "Not goin anywhere, pal."
Bucky broke the moment as he turned to survey the damages. "So…you gonna give me a ride home? I think I wrecked the truck."
"I guess so. I thought you said you could drive?"
"I said I had a license to drive….I didn't say I was any good at it. Remember I wreck shit."
Steve got on the bike and wondered aloud "What happened to that handler?"
Bucky hesitated; "Ah….well…he died."
"How?"
Bucky threw his leg over the seat and settled in behind Steve; "One day I remembered you." He slipped his hands onto Steve's hips and rested his chin on his shoulder; "I woke up, he was lying next to me."
Steve turned his head to look at him; waiting for the answer he hoped was coming.
"I gutted him in the bed…..There were no more Captain handlers after that."
Steve nodded and started the bike.
Bucky faintly heard him say "Good." As they roared off towards home; he buried his face in the back of Steve's neck.
"Well you boys were out late….did we miss the party?" Natasha drawled.
Sam and Natasha were sitting at the kitchen island staring at a laptop and shuffling through papers when Steve and Bucky sluggishly wandered in.
"No party. Just got home late." Steve grumbled.
Bucky was incapable of speech; he worked on perfecting his grumpy persona.
"Well something happened…the truck never made it home…..Barnes." Sam accused; emphasis on Barnes.
Bucky shot Wilson a snarling look before he grabbed the juice from the fridge and downed it straight from the carton; ignoring the steady trickle that dripped down his chin and onto his T shirt. He finished off with using the bottom of the T shirt to wipe his mouth thereby exposing his unmistakably sculpted abs to the room; emphasis on Wilson.
"Nice Barnes….once again proving you possess zero social skills."
"So Steve, the truck…what happened?" Natasha recognized the clear message from Barnes that he would not be goaded into talking; so change of tactics; ask Steve.
"Bucky swerved to avoid hitting a deer. He went off the road. He's fine."
"And the truck?" Sam pressed.
"And the deer?" Natasha asked quietly.
"Deer is fine. Truck is fine. It just needs to be pulled out." Steve poured coffee for himself.
Bucky examined the muffins in a pastry box on the island; he poked at each one, ensuring that he left a finger print; a metal finger print, clearly embedded.
Sam stared intently at him; "You're two super soldiers…you couldn't pull it out last night?"
"No…we didn't. It was dark. We'll get it out today." Steve joined them at the island.
Bucky stared into the open fridge long enough to ensure the door alarm would join the conversation.
"So Barnes, come on over here and take a look at this plan." Sam pointed at the laptop screen.
Bucky ignored him; instead he pulled a container from the fridge; headed for the far corner of the kitchen, leaving the fridge to sound its annoying alarm.
Steve interjected "Door." Without glancing up from the pile of papers Nat had shoved in front of him.
Bucky performed a flawless side kick to the fridge door without missing a step and settled on his final destination; sitting on the countertop by the backdoor; knowing that it would further irritate Wilson.
Sam persisted "Ok. So don't look at the plans. Leave it all up to us…we'll cover your ass out there. We'll plan the mission, get the weapons, plan the route, get you in there; get you out; just like….your former employer did. You just show up and wreck shit. We do the clean-up; you get the fun stuff."
"Sam. That's out of line." Steve stared at him.
Bucky never looked up from eating the pasta and meatballs with his hands.
"Is it? Really? Ok." Sam shook his head. He pointed to Natasha and himself. "We got this covered. We'll be ready ….mission go is 1800 hours tomorrow…Sharon's already called a dozen times; she's attained new levels of screech beyond what I thought was even possible."
Sam gestured towards Bucky and continued "He needs to prep; there are weapons to test; a uniform to fit; final details to review. No worries; Barnes… this is your mission and here we are the day before you head back out; the first time in how long? Three years? And you've barely looked at any of it."
Bucky was unmoved by the attack. Sam wasn't wrong.
Steve swam around in his guilt; if he hadn't followed Bucky to the parking lot things would be different right now. "Sam…we just met last night about this; we got back late…this is my fault. I'll make sure he goes over everything; the weapons, the plans…"
"Stop handling me, Rogers." Bucky growled. He slid off the counter and tossed the container into the sink. "He's right. I haven't looked at any of it."
Steve started to protest…..
"Stop it. I don't run the missions. I execute the missions." He headed straight for Sam.
Sam stood up; it was hard to know what Barnes was up to on a good day; never mind when he gets pissed off.
Bucky stopped less than an arms length away from Sam; he made sure they had eye contact. "Let me clarify something for you: Hydra was not my…employer." He stared at him a moment before continuing. "I've never planned a mission start to finish…that wasn't…allowed. They handed me the weapons….I killed people. You want me to plan this….great….let's do it…get me there…give me a weapon…..get me out. There's your plan."
Steve and Natasha watched in tense anticipation.
Sam didn't back down; "That's the old way…that was their way of doing it. This is new….this is our way….be part of the planning…own the mission. Pick your poison, Barnes."
Bucky stared hard at Wilson.
Steve couldn't help himself, he started to intercede "Ahhh…" He pulled his words back when Bucky pointed at him.
"The hell with you Wilson…..You think I know how to do this?"
"Yes..yes I do. You have years of experience, you remember it. Now let's put it to good use."
Bucky frowned. Then reached for the laptop.
Sam closed the cover and slid it slowly away from him. "Wash your hands."
"Fuck you, Wilson."
"Wash…your…hands."
Steve held his breath…and his words.
"Fine. Fine….still fuck you…." Bucky headed deliberately for the sink.
"Ok Buck…I'm gonna go get the truck with Sam." Steve found Bucky sitting on the edge of the table in the tactical room, staring at the whiteboard covered with figures; numbers, times….all the mission planning that Sam and Natasha had generated. "You're looking a little stressed there, pal."
Bucky let out a heavy sigh. "Damn…this is hard."
"Whole new world." He leaned against the doorframe.
Bucky slid off the table to stand closer to Steve "Don't be gone long."
"I won't. I'll be back as soon as I can. You and Sam ok?"
"No…he's an asshole…I hate him."
Steve laughed "That's what he says about you."
Bucky frowned. "Really? He said that?"
Steve decided to lie. "No, no, just kidding. He likes you, says it everyday."
"Liar."
"Ok…sooner I go the sooner I'm back." Steve turned to leave.
"Wait." Bucky followed to block his exit. Steve nearly ran into him. Bucky hovered near enough to feel the warmth of Steve's body. "Can I kiss you?" He whispered.
Steve was uncertain about the question…not about the answer. "Why are you asking that?"
"Cuz as much as I like flirting with you…it isn't fair…I get to flirt and you don't….I get to touch and you don't….you said my choice….what about your choice…what I want is equal."
Steve leaned back a little to look at him. "I like the sound of equal…and yes…you can kiss me."
Bucky didn't hesitate. He slipped his hand around Steve's waist and pulled him closer. His mouth covered Steve's. He didn't pull away from his hands as they slide up his back to hold him tight against his body.
Bucky took note in one of the many compartments of his mind; there were no ghostly appearances for this encounter. Even the Voice had nothing to say. He was grateful for the reprieve.