43 Soup

The next day, Steve brought Bucky soup, a special recipe Bucky himself used to make for Steve when he was sick and when Bucky was there always to save him and fix him and make everything better. Steve didn't know if he would recognize the soup now, but regardless, it was sure to help him feel a little better.

"Hey," Steve said by way of greeting as he stepped into Bucky's bedroom with the hot tupperware container in hand. "How're you feeling?" Bucky shrugged, sitting up under his covers with a crumpled white undershirt on.

"Fever's down," he said. "For the most part." Steve smiled at him.

"That's good," Steve said, setting the soup down on Bucky's bedside table and sitting off the edge of the bed and Bucky scooted over to give him room. "I guessed you'd be up and at 'em in no time," he said confidently, his smile becoming a grin, and Bucky rolled his eyes.

"I guess I bounce back pretty fast," he said. "Wonder why."

"And your ankle?" Steve continued, ignoring Bucky's bitter sardonicism.

"Completely healed," he said.

"That's great," Steve said. Then, "I wanted to talk to you about this whole thing. Nat and I, we're Avengers, it's what we do. We're gonna be in a lot of danger. Okay?" Bucky stared at him, then he looked down and away from Steve's face and cleared his throat.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I, uh… I know."

"So you can't do this," Steve said. "If it hurts you like it hurt you now, you just can't."

"I can't just sit at home," Bucky protested and Steve's face hardened.

"Yeah, Buck, you can," he said. "Look, I promise I'll be fine. And Nat, too. You've seen her in action, she can hold her own. You can't save everyone, not like this." Bucky's jaw clenched and he let out a breath.

"If you came back after one of these fights shot," Bucky said. "Or stabbed. Or-" dead. Bucky ground his teeth. "I'd never forgive myself."

"I promise I'm careful," Steve said and Bucky barked a laugh.

"Careful, yeah," he said and then he was looking back up into Steve's eyes. "Careful like when you got that kid out of the ice at Sam's place?" Steve swallowed, looking back into Bucky's eyes, and didn't know what to say. "That can't happen again," Bucky said, shaking his head now. "I don't like… Sniping, I don't. But if I can kill the guy who would shoot the bullet that you wouldn't run from, if I can stop it all from happening, you better bet I will." Steve looked down, still finding that he wanted to say something, and didn't know how. Maybe after so many years underneath the water, holding his breath, he'd forgotten how to use that breath when someone reached in and dragged him out through the ice.

"This isn't about me," he finally said quietly. Without missing a beat, Bucky leaned forward, staring into his eyes, and said, "You're wrong. This was always about you." Steve swallowed loudly and stared at his hands.

After a few poignant, silent moments, Bucky leaned back into his pillows and spoke again.

"You know, I've been thinking," he said.

"'Bout what," Steve said.

"Death," Bucky said. Me too, Steve thought. "What if I were to tell you I think I should die. Just… Theoretically." Steve looked over, alarmed.

"What?!" He cried and Bucky shrugged, dangerously nonchalant.

"On that helicarrier, you shouldn't have throw away your damn shield, you should have used it to bash in my head," Bucky said and Steve felt his stomach turn and suddenly, he couldn't swallow.

"How could you say that? Even hypothetically, Bucky..." Steve replied breathlessly and then Bucky furrowed his brow as he tried to speak, threw up his hands and looked like he was having trouble forming the words.

"It's a fact," he said. "I am a mess."

"No," Steve said.

"And I'm, I can't be… Not fixable, okay?" Bucky said and tried to let out a breath, and then he looked at Steve, right at his face.

"That's, no," Steve said, shaking his head.

"I'm sick, Steve," Bucky said loudly, pointedly, in a way that sounded somehow familiar to Steve. "So you should let me die." Steve jumped to his feet.

"Stop!" He cried. "Absolutely not!"

"Why!" Bucky shouted. "I'm taking up your time, aren't I? Your space, your fricking food, causing you heartbreak! Why shouldn't I die?!" Steve only had time to think, 'what happened to theoretically', before his mouth opened and he started responding, his heart in a direct correlation with his tongue and these words, they felt deeper than they were, and they felt true.

"Because I love you!" Steve screamed back. "You shouldn't want to die, and it's not your fault! You don't take up anything I'm not willing to give you in the first place! You aren't a burden!" Then, to Steve's surprise, a grin spread across Bucky's face and he looked triumphant. He threw up his arms again.

"Exactly!" He screamed at Steve and fell back down on his pillows. "Exactly, you punk! Did you hear what you just said, did you hear that?"

"What?" Steve said, suddenly bewildered.

"That," Bucky said quietly, unable to stop smiling. "Is how I feel about you." Steve stared at him and his mouth hung open. He was at a loss for words.

"I love you," Bucky said, repeating after Steve, ticking things off on his fingers. "You shouldn't want to die. It wasn't your fault."

"I," Steve said.

"You don't take anything I wouldn't have given you in the first place. And you aren't a burden," Bucky finished. "Do you understand now? Do you get it?"

Steve honestly felt conflicted.

"So those things you said, you didn't mean it," Steve said and Bucky nodded.

"I'm trying to make you understand," Bucky said in a pleading voice. "That's what I want to scream at you. I want to take you by the shoulders and shake you sometimes! What you just said about me, apply it to yourself." Steve stared as he came down from the violent fear that clenched his heart upon thinking that Bucky felt these things. He didn't know how to feel. He didn't know if he could apply it to himself. As soon as he tried, he rejected it.

Bucky looked over to the table as Steve sunk back down to the bed and he took the tupperware container left there and opened the lid. He looked at it and took a sip out of the corner.

"What is this?" He asked.

"Something you used to make me," Steve said quietly.

I'm back! :D -BB