Only twenty minutes had past but it felt like an eternity.
Steve had been waiting across from the metal door leading to Bucky and his therapist, pacing outside the door in a circle. It was a room that was much too close to where Rumlow was. True, it was on the other side of the building but that was still far too close.
Steve kept waiting outside the room, steeling himself for any sounds of distress so he could run inside and do whatever needed to be done in order to keep Bucky safe. Not that Steve didn't like the idea of Bucky getting help, but having it be forced upon him unwillingly by Ross was not how Steve wanted this to happen. Having a repeat of that Hannibal scene come to life seemed less productive.
When his mind wasn't filled with infinite possibilities that could be going on into the next room, Steve was debating on what he could do regarding Rumlow. He knew that when Ross and his minions were done asking him questions about Hydra, they would move on to ask him how could he survive a crumbling building collapsing on him, as well as how could he live through a shield that pierced his chest (a memory that brought a grim smile to Steve's face)? Would they force Bucky to keep questioning him? Or did they already have the answers and figured no one else was high ranking enough to know?
Leaning his back against the side of the door, Steve's fingertips tapped anxiously across the white wall, taking a break from his pacing. Was Buck doing okay? What if he had a panic attack? Would he call for Steve if it got to be too much? Would Steve even be allowed to see him? Well, that last problem didn't matter since Steve would go to him.
Steve huffed as the theories and worries rushed through his mind as he stayed in the silent hallway. This wasn't supposed to be this difficult; what kind of friend was he that he was upset over Bucky being out of his sight for less than half an hour?
But it felt like anytime Bucky was out of his sight, something would happen. Maybe that was how Bucky felt whenever Steve had run off to fight another bully who was double-even triple-his size. The thought made Steve laugh lightly, easing some of the weight off his chest.
The door creaked open and Steve jumped at attention, pushing himself away from the wall to face the door. Bucky shoved the door closed and settled his back against it, his face stern and uneasy. His hold against the door was similar to a person trying to keep someone from following in the room. Steve licked his dry lips curiously before taking a step closer, watching Bucky as his mouth was pinched into a terse line.
"Buck?" Steve questioned quietly.
Bucky raised his head slightly before ducking down again, his long hair hiding his face like a curtain.
"You alright?" Steve asked before cringing at himself. Probably the worst thing he could have asked. Taking another step forward towards Bucky till they were almost toe and toe, Steve rested his hand comfortingly on the metal shoulder, blue eyes apprehensive as he noticed the anxious glance that Bucky had. It wasn't an untrusting look, but it caused Steve to tense immediately.
"Do you want to talk about-?" Steve started but Bucky's quick wide-eyed glance in his direction stopped Steve from continuing.
There was an unusual awkward silence. Steve waited silently for a few second before he slowly moved, not taking his eyes off Bucky in case he should make him nervous. Steve stood by Bucky's side, their shoulders touching.
"I want to go home." Bucky mumbled, leaning his head against Steve's, not caring if it sounded less like a hardened soldier and more like a child crying for his mother. He tightened his fists and realized that he was still holding the door shut with enough force he would be able to rip the doorknob off.
Steve nodded quickly. "Of course." He moved away from Bucky, trying to give him space, but Bucky quickly stepped alongside Steve, head bowed down yet following perfectly in sync with his friend.
A thousand thoughts ran through Steve's head and his mouth remained shut. First Bucky was kidnapped, attempted to be brainwashed by his abuser, faced said abuser, and then was given no choice again as he was ordered to speak to some shrink that was only there so that the government felt that they were helping the longest running POW. None of those people cared about what happened to him. They wanted results.
The silence was deafening as they walked side by side down the seemingly unending hallway that would lead them to Stark's place. Normally, Bucky was quiet, but this was a different type of silence. Steve would not be surprised if Bucky was close to closing up for a while. Judging from Bucky's eyes looking in front of them steadily as he was deep in thought, it proved that Bucky was searching for the words to say. Even though he hadn't spoken since he left Nicole, Steve felt a small prick of pride that Bucky was opening up to him.
"I'm sorry." Bucky said.
Steve jerked his head towards Bucky who was still walking his slow pace. "For what?"
"For not really talking."
Steve shook his head, his face clouded with sympathy. "You have nothing to be sorry for. With me, you only need to talk when you feel ready."
Bucky didn't turn to eye Steve but that did not stop Steve from noticing the soft smile grow on his young features.
"She was just trying to help…" Bucky mumbled, his feet shuffling slightly as they walked.
Steve's ears perked up. Whether he was talking to himself or Steve, he didn't know, but he remained silent as Bucky swallowed nervously and pushed himself to go on.
"But she wanted me to talk about…about Rumlow and I can barely look at him, let alone speak about him."
Bucky glanced at Steve and Steve nodded.
"I'm barely understanding my own thoughts here, and I hate that I have to share them with someone I don't know." Bucky finished, his hand fiddling with the loose strong of his shirt again.
"It's okay, Buck." Steve whispered. Of course he didn't understand what Bucky was feeling exactly, he hadn't suffered like Bucky had in the past seventy years. But he knew that if roles were reversed Steve would want someone he trusted to listen to him, not be made to speak to a stranger for the betterment of some government's image.
Bucky let out a sigh from deep in his chest, following Steve so closely and blindly that he didn't even notice they had already made it to their room in Stark Tower until Steve stopped outside their door, hand on the doorknob while watching his friend concernedly.
"Come on," Steve encouraged him, hand moving to rest on Bucky's shoulder; unsure where else to touch him. "I'll make sure no one comes for you today."
Bucky nodded, a faint, grateful smile on his face. He wanted to thank him, for being there today, yesterday, all his life. For never giving up on Bucky even when he wanted to give up on himself. Thankfully, Steve understood.
With his hand in between Bucky's shoulder blades, Steve walked with him to their room.
Before Steve could get on his phone with Nat, Bucky took Steve by the hand. "I will tell you how I feel. I just need to figure how I feel first." Bucky shrugged apologetically.
Steve nodded rapidly. "Of course."
Satisfied with the reply, Bucky laid on the bed without another word, curling up into a small ball as his back was facing Steve. Steve settled himself on the loveseat located in front of the TV and put on the news, the day's worrisome activities still running through their heads.
...
Rumlow eyed the camera that was settled on him, the sight of the unmoving device spurned him on to continue with keeping an emotionless gaze. They couldn't steal his property, his Soldier, and expect to get the satisfaction of him looking weak.
Rumlow thought about the visit with his Soldier. Brock tensed uncomfortably with giving up one small Hydra group, but they were just one of many. It was only one of many. He got what he wanted: he saw the Soldier. He looked odd, different. The Solider was getting broken by Rodgers and Stark and all the others. If he didn't get out soon, it might be too late to fix him.
Destroying SHIELD did little to stop them from continuing their growth. Soon, he would get out, and, if luck was on his side thanks to a friend on the inside, the Soldier would be back where he belonged.