There are still days when Steve needs a moment to adjust to his new body. He has to feel his lungs expand without any wheezing, his back not hurt from spending a long period of time in the same position, and he has to make sure he hears clearly now that he isn't partially deaf. This is one of those mornings when he feels grateful for what Dr. Erskine did for him, for whatever worth he saw in him. One of those mornings he feels completely undeserving.
Steve shifts on the mattress and an odd thing happens but he doesn't register it until it happens again. His face nuzzles in the pillow and his legs shift and it's then that his body finally sends a message to his brain: he feels the arm around him, the leg between his own, the chest pressed to his back, the breath ruffling the hair at the back of his head. Steve hears the deep breathing and a part of his brain tells him not to worry, that he's in no danger.
He can't know the time it is but his internal clock tells him it's pretty late. Steve doesn't feel like getting out of bed, doesn't feel like taking a shower and shaving, doesn't feel like eating. Any other day—one where he were to wake up alone in bed, in his own bedroom that is washed by the sun over the course of the day—and Steve would have forced himself to face the day, but—
Bucky grumbles something that sounds unhappy and Steve's hand grabs the man's forearm which then tightens its hold on Steve. Bucky moans something about not finding his nose and could you please give it back, I need it.
This also seems to be one of those days when everything reminds him of his mother. Sarah had also talked in her sleep. Steve would hold conversations with her, ones that could last for an impressive stretch of time. Part of him wants to try the same thing with Bucky, find out if he will answer if Steve talks to him. Another one, more vehement, strongly rejects the notion. He tries to reason with himself that it's not like he will replace one set of memories with another—but in days like these, it's no use.
On days like this, the past feels like a physical presence that won't let him move.
Steve closes his eyes and reminisces about his mom and he can almost feel her fingers in his hair. He remembers Sarah holding him close in nights they weren't sure he was going to make it to see another day.
He holds his breath and waits for the impulse to shake Bucky off to pass.
As if sensing a change in the atmosphere, Bucky's arm slides to Steve's chest, t-shirt riding up, and he presses impossibly closer.
"Don't eat the ladybug," Bucky murmurs against Steve's neck and just like that his bad mood is gone.
Steve snorts. "I've heard bugs are all protein," he comments off-handedly.
"No, that's my ladybug," Bucky whines and Steve almost doesn't recognize his voice, turned juvenile and devoid of its usual hesitance.
Not for the first time, Steve tries to imagine a Bucky before HYDRA. Now, though, he disposes of additional information—or at least he's aware of the existence of said information. The Howlies had always highlighted the man's bravery and talked about his humor. Dum Dum, the only one who had known him before all of the Howling Commandoes got taken by HYDRA in Austria, had said that Sarge was always able to cheer up his fellow soldiers and convince anyone to go for a drink to the closest place that could sell them some alcohol. During missions, he had also commented on more than one occasion how useful would be Sarge's great skills as a marksman. It seems HYDRA took notice of his skillset as well.
"Do you want to eat the ladybug?" Steve asks in a hushed tone, not wanting to wake him up.
Bucky makes a distressed sound and Steve tries to hold a laugh.
"What do you want to eat, then?" he carries on with the absurd conversation. Steve's eyes close and his hand wraps around the one on his chest, thumb rubbing the soft skin.
Bucky doesn't answer right away and after a minute Steve assumes there won't be more talking.
"Chocolate," the word is mumbled against the back of Steve's neck and he shivers. "Chocolate cake."
Steve makes a mental note to ask Tony if there's a way to make a nutritional shake with chocolate cake flavor.
This reminds him that Bucky has to go to Tony's lab so the engineer can make Bucky's custom-made nutritional drink. He will talk with Bucky and ask when he wants to go.
There's a lot we have to talk about.
"I want my dark uniform," Bucky grumbles and Steve isn't sure if he's missed part of the man's monologue or he just jumped to a different one.
"What else do you want?" Steve prompts. He moves along with Bucky's chest when he takes a deep breath and then exhales in Steve's hair.
"I want." Bucky pauses and mumbles words Steve can't make out, he wonders if in a different language. "Warm."
Steve is confused by the answer. "You want… warm?"
Bucky lets out a short snore.
"You… Warm." Steve waits for something else, maybe something that will make Bucky's words make sense. Steve looks over his shoulder and concludes that it must have been gibberish of a dreaming person. Either way, he hopes Bucky has "warm."
Or maybe he just wants to be warm.
He spends some time drifting in and out of sleep, too aware of the chest against his back and the palm on his own chest. A moment comes when he can't ignore the need to use the toilet and Steve turns on his back, gently lifting Bucky's arm from his waist and lowers it to the mattress. After telling himself that it would be creepy—maybe even invasive— to sketch Bucky while he's sleeping, Steve finally makes use of the bathroom and quickly returns to the edge of the bed.
What he wants to do is crawl under the blankets and keep them warm for Bucky. He wants to ask J.A.R.V.I.S. to dim the windows until they're completely black so he can stay in a state between sleep and wakefulness while he holds the other man.
(or is held)
He wants to ask Bucky about where he was born and where he grew up, if he knew about the Captain America films and shows, and if he watched Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs at the movies. He wants to know how he's liking the book he's reading even though Steve found it too confusing at times.
This is the reason why he goes to the kitchen and prepares himself a breakfast he doesn't taste.
He sits on a stool at the kitchen island, empty plate before him now and eyes vacant in the direction of the windows. Suddenly the apartment feels emptier than usual, the silence a presence he can't ignore. The autumn sun spills over the counters and floors, the bare walls and unused furniture, and Steve sees it all like he's color blind again.
Steve shakes his head when Peggy's voice resonates in his mind calling him dramatic. He feels miserable for feeling so miserable while living in a palace. He will never again go hungry to bed or sick or wondering if he and his mom will have to move to a new apartment next week.
It's not like you've spent seventy years being tortured and used, a spiteful voice reminds him. Steve's head turns in the bedroom's direction, as if the serum has graced him with the power to see through solid matter, too.
Steve looks back at his empty plate, at his clenched fists, and takes his phone out of his jeans. He searches, and he reads, and he does some more research that leads him into a completely different direction, and suddenly more than an hour has passed and Steve has exchanged bar stool for couch cushion. He's bookmarked almost a dozen web pages when he hears muffled steps coming from behind the couch. He turns around and does a double take when he sees Bucky's bed-head. He cracks a grin and outright laughs when Bucky rubs at his eye and Steve's attention is drawn to the pillow imprint on his stubbled cheek. It's an outright beard by now, actually, and Steve ignores it when his hands itch for a pencil, a paintbrush, a chisel and a block of marble—anything.
"Good morning," Steve says.
"Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov are on a S.H.I.E.L.D. mission. The details are confidential." The discipline in the tone and the rumpled look don't match and Steve feels like someone just hit him over the head. It's a weird first thing to say in the morning (afternoon.)
"Okay," Steve answers, unsure of what else to say.
Bucky's hand rubs at his scruff and his eyes avert. His hand finds its way to the pocket of his sweatshirt. "Barton told me to inform you."
"Thanks," Steve blurts and Bucky grunts something he doesn't try to make out. "You hungry?"
Steve waits for the customary nod and after a few seconds, he gets it. Bucky doesn't approach the kitchen and Steve realizes after way too long that Bucky is probably waiting to be dismissed. His throat works and his chest feels cold.
"Bon Appetite," the stilted and unnatural words come out of his mouth before he can think. Bucky frowns at him but gets the point. Steve's eyes follow Bucky until he's in the kitchen and then turns the TV on. He turns it off when he realizes he doesn't want to watch anything.
"How you feel about going to Tony's lab?" he asks, the kitchen island between them. Steve's skin itches and he circles it.
Bucky doesn't answer right away, eyes on his shake. He knows Bucky's thinking his answers over even if it seems like he's ignoring Steve.
"Why exactly?" Bucky eventually asks, eying Steve sideways.
"There are some things we should discuss." Bucky turns his head to look him in the eye, face questioning. "About your stay here, for example." Bucky's body tenses but Steve isn't taken by surprise anymore. "He wants to make some tests and—"
"I'm staying here," Bucky interrupts. "Right?"
The question takes him by surprise this time but he recovers quickly. "Of course."
"With you?" Bucky asks with a frown and eyes fixed on Steve's.
Steve opens his mouth to answer but he's too stunned to talk at first. Bucky's face of determination transforms into realization. Steve is convinced Bucky has reached the wrong conclusion and he hurries to say, "Yes, of course, Buck. If you want to stay with me, that's okay with me."
Steve looks closely for a reaction but Bucky seems to school his expression into something neutral. "When are we going?" Bucky fidgets.
"After your shake. If you want." Steve doesn't want to make Bucky feel suffocated with so many questions but he also doesn't want to be overbearing. He would have hated it.
Bucky doesn't answer. He looks at Steve, as if searching for something, and then downs his shake. He gives Steve one look that he understands better than if Bucky had used words, and the two of them make their way to the elevator.
"J.A.R.V.I.S., is Tony in his workshop?" Steve asks when the elevator doors close.
"He is, Captain Rogers, and I've already taken the liberty of notifying him of your arrival."
Steve twitches.
"He reports our conversations?" Bucky looks at Steve, eyes wide and lips parted. He looks affronted and Steve feels embarrassed for knowing so well that this is the first time Bucky's shown such an emotion.
"I do not, Mr. Barnes," J.A.R.V.I.S. answers before Steve can make himself talk. "Every conversation that takes place in this Tower is private unless it puts someone in danger."
"Or we're already going to ask you to do something," Steve finishes with a half-smile. He's learned a thing or two in the last month he's spent here.
"Indeed, Captain."
Bucky still looks like someone pissed on his bed and Steve gently bumps their shoulders, giving Bucky a smile when the man looks up at him. His stomach doesn't flip when Bucky gives a half-smile of his own.
Steve realizes then that Bucky is only wearing socks but he doesn't say anything because he doesn't seem to mind.
The elevator doors slide open and they can hear the music even before they've reached the workshop. The volume is lowered the moment they enter and Tony turns on his stool to face them.
"Why does your shirt have a circle that lets us see your chest?" Steve asks before he can think twice. It dawns on him a second before Tony can answer.
The engineer snorts and gets to his feet, arms thrown wide as if showing off his t-shirt. "Oh, you must have already forgotten the arc reactor embedded in my chest," Tony says cheerfully.
Steve and Bucky reach the workbench where it seems he's been for the last hours. One of Tony's hands goes to the circular window of his t-shirt while the other stays in the air. Steve gives a short laugh and gives him a quick side hug. Tony's expression changes to one of surprise but he recuperates quickly. "You know, that thing that replaced my sternum and—"
"Yes, Tony, ha ha. I remember now." He's not actually annoyed, not like he would have been if this had happened a month or two ago.
"Are you sure? I understand that after a certain age—"
"You aren't that funny, Tony. Let it go, I'm younger than you." Still, he says it with lips twitching.
"Yes, you are," Tony concedes with a voice suddenly devoid of its cheeriness. He observes Steve for a few seconds, as if for the first time. A second later it's like Steve has imagined it and Tony's clapping his hands and taking a step in Bucky's direction. "Hi there, Barnes."
Tony's palm rises in the air but before he can clap it on Bucky's shoulder, Bucky takes a step away from him, bumping into Steve's side. He doesn't seem distressed, only uncomfortable, and Steve can only assume it was done out of instinct. Steve's insides feel funny when Bucky doesn't flinch away from the arm he slides around the man's shoulders.
"Sorry," Bucky says with a tone that doesn't give anything away.
"Don't worry," Tony answers and Steve can almost feel the man's brain working, his mien changing.
In the last month, Steve has seen Tony around children, fans, employees, rival businessmen and businesswomen… The thing is, Steve has seen Tony behaving in ways he would've never imagined. There was always the chatty Tony, the one that has the need to have the first and last word, but Steve discovered that there was more to it.
So, Steve knows Tony is about to change his behavior to one that won't force Bucky to recoil from him again.
"You know why you're here, right?" Tony asks. He guides the two men to an office chair and a cleaner workbench. "Would you please sit here?"
Steve looks at Bucky and sees him swallow, eyes trained on the chair before them. Steve looks at it too, trying to understand what Bucky must be seeing, what is making him hesitate. Then he realizes: a laboratory full of machines, a chair he has to sit on while people examine him and do things to his body.
He remembers vividly the cabin where they found the HYDRA agents and Bucky. He remembers the machines and the chair. Steve remembers thinking it looked odd but hadn't given it a second thought. Now, he knows why it had looked odd: the chair had included restraints and the one for the left arm had looked more complicated and…
Fuck, Steve thinks, his stomach lurching.
There had been brown stains, most certainly dried blood.
Steve touches Bucky's arm to get his attention. Bucky's nostrils flare and the air from his lungs exits in a whoosh. He looks at Steve with big, shiny eyes, the blue from his irises seeming almost white under the fluorescent lights. For a second Steve doesn't know what is happening to Bucky and he stays petrified. Then Bucky blinks and turns his head to inspect his surroundings, and everything clicks, Steve's own experiences coming to mind and the resent web searches.
Slowly, telegraphing his movements, Steve places himself on Bucky's right with some space between them so as not to crowd him. He wants to touch Bucky but he fears it will make the man feel threatened, restrained. His hand stays near Bucky's arm but Steve doesn't touch.
"Bucky, you're having a flashback," Steve states calmly and slowly enunciating each word. He notices Tony shuffling away, giving them a moment. Bucky doesn't react and Steve repeats his name. His voice is even, calm, but Steve's heart is beating against his chest like a hammer. He feels like he's going to fuck up.
"Bucky, it's all right, you're safe." Steve swallows. He notices Tony coming back with a glass of water—he also realizes the music has been muted. From the corner of his eye, he sees Tony place the glass on the workbench and retreat again. Steve takes a breath.
"You're in New York." Bucky's eyes are on the chair again and his chest is heaving, breath hitching—Steve can hear it even through all the sounds the machines are making. "Bucky, you are safe in Avengers Tower."
Steve wants to touch him, drag him away from the damned chair, sit him down and talk with him. He knows it will just make things worse even if he has good intentions.
"Bucky."
Bucky's jaw clenches, his head tilts in the direction of Steve's voice. "It's me. Steve. Do you know where you are?"
Bucky's brow lowers in a frown and Steve clings to that. "What can you see, Buck?"
He notices Bucky's throat working and his lips parting. "Buck." Steve feels like running and punching and jumping from a plane with no parachute.
"The chair." His throat clicks when he swallows down. Steve sees how his hand shakes.
"What else?" he encourages, taking half a step closer.
Bucky mumbles and tries to form words but he can't until his eyes finally lift. He blinks repeatedly. "Tables."
"That's good, Bucky. What else?" Half a step closer. Bucky tucks his hand inside the pocket of his sweatshirt and grips the fabric in a fist. He clears his throat.
"Machines a-and a robot."
Steve looks away from Bucky's face and sees Dum-E. He hears music again, low so not to startle Bucky. "Do you hear that?"
Bucky's eyes turn distant while he focuses on his hearing. "Billie Holiday."
"Yes." He searches for Tony and when he finds him on another workbench, Steve directs at him a thankful smile.
Steve steps in front of Bucky when he sees his shoulders go down. "Bucky, can I touch you?"
Bucky's head lifts and he looks at Steve like he doesn't understand the question. He's about to repeat himself when Bucky answers "yes" and gives a step forward, hand getting out of his pocket and hovering in the space between them.
Steve finally lets his hands touch Bucky and relief crashes over him, so powerful he feels lightheaded. One palm gently circles Bucky's wrist, thumb stroking the soft skin, and the other closes over his ribs. He isn't completely sure anymore that he's doing this only for Bucky.
"You had a flashback," Steve says again. Bucky looks at him and seems to understand—maybe not the word but this is clearly not the first time it's happened. He shuffles an inch closer to Steve. Bucky's breathing has finally calmed down and, taking into account Bucky's own actions, Steve deems it safe to slip one arm around his back and finally get them chest to chest.
Steve feels Bucky tuck his face in the space between shoulder and neck. Steve feels his exhale. He feels Bucky's lashes against his skin. The knot in his throat dissolves and he can finally inhale enough air. Steve's other hand combs through Bucky's hair and he feels the man's hand cling to his own t-shirt.
The lights in the lab dim a little bit so as not to irritate Bucky's eyes. Steve has to find a way to thank Tony for everything.
"You're okay now, Bucky."
Bucky's only answer is to exhale and lean some more of his weight on Steve.
Steve doesn't know how much time has passed when Tony nears them again with an obvious expression of awkwardness. "Not that I don't find this… weirdly cute," he starts saying and Steve feels like giving a heavy sigh. "But you came here with a reason, so…"
Steve scowls at first but eventually pulls away from Bucky. The man's eyes flicker, making it seem like he's waking up from a trance. "I'm not sure Bucky—"
"I'll do it," Bucky cuts him off, eyes trained on Tony.
Steve's mouth hangs open, making a stellar impression of a fish out of water. Tony's eyebrows also arch with surprise. Before they can say anything, Bucky gives one step away from them and near the chair. Steve still sees it as a common office chair, but Bucky's muscles stay strained when he forces himself to sit on it.
"Well," Tony is the first to speak even if he too sounds staggered. He clears his throat and Steve can pinpoint the exact moment Tony finds his bearings. "First, I'm going to take a blood sample. This time with your consent, of course." His smile is stiff.
"Water under the bridge, right?" Bucky says, lips trying to pull upwards but there's a sheen of sweat covering his forehead and Steve has the crazy need to burn every chair on the planet.
"That's good to know," Tony says. He isn't trying to smile anymore but his serene expression seems to be having a better influence on the atmosphere. Steve would like to know how he does that.
While Tony goes to fetch himself a stool, Steve shuffles in place. He's keeping a close eye on Bucky. There is no shield to throw, no orders to give or bad guys to catch here. He can only wait and offer himself as an anchor to Bucky.
He hates it.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer."
Steve blinks down at Bucky. Bucky blinks up at him, eyes round with surprise. "I don't know where that came from."
"I'll tell you," Tony chimes in. He rolls to where they are, carrying a spare stool he pushes in Steve's direction. Steve sits on it and rolls to Bucky's left after Tony takes his right side. "That's from Pee-wee's Big Adventure." He doesn't get any sign of recognition at that. "Tim Barton's movie."
"I know who that is," Steve says, sitting straighter.
"I don't," Bucky says. He has a little frown but doesn't seem concerned.
"He's a film director," Steve informs him and he hears Tony mutter something about 'decrepit philistines.'
"Oh, he makes movies," Bucky says like he's just understood a difficult math problem. Tony is gaping and to Steve it seems like he's going to have a coronary. Steve, on the other hand, can feel a grin taking over his face. "Do they finally have sound?"
Tony stops spluttering when he finally catches sight of Steve's shit-eating grin. "Oh, no, now it's going to be twice as annoying!"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Bucky says. He's still tense, Steve can tell, but Bucky is getting more comfortable, his body starting to believe there is no threat here. Steve would like to touch his hand. "Don't tell me they're still in black and white."
"Ok, you do you, grandpas," Tony drawls rolling his eyes at them as Steve chuckles. "Now, Barnes, I'm going to get those samples," he states like someone commenting it's a sunny day.
Tony has already put gloves on and has a needle attached to a flexible tubing in one hand, and five little vacuum bottles in the other. Steve had expected Bucky to have another flashback, some negative reaction at least, but he's looking down at the needle with one arched brow, like he had been expecting something different.
"Can I start?" Bucky nods once and Tony asks him to clench his hand in a fist and he puts the tourniquet on his bicep. Tony cleans the skin (Bucky frowns at him but doesn't comment on how it was an unnecessary thing to do) so he can finally insert the needle and then attach one of the little bottles at the end of the tubing. Bucky looks with interest at the procedure and the blood filling the crystal.
"It seems you got yourself a list-buddy, Cap," Tony comments when he's starting with the second sample. Steve is just as transfixed on watching Bucky's expressions as Bucky is on watching what Tony is doing. Steve makes a questioning noise. "I'm sure he knows just as little as you about pop-culture."
"Oh."
It's strange to think there is a person on the planet who is just as out of place as Steve, if not more. Someone who was born a hundred years ago but doesn't look more than thirty. A person that doesn't have a clue what happened in the last seventy years and now has to catch up. Steve can only stare at Bucky when it finally dawns on him that this is a person with whom he shares life experiences.
"I think Bucky has more important things to deal with right now," Steve says in the end. There might be a lot of things they share, but the big difference is that Steve spent the last seventy years taking a nap and Bucky…
Yes, definitely not the same.
Tony only shrugs and Steve averts his eyes when he catches Bucky looking at him.
Tony's starting on the third vial while the three share a tense silence. That's probably why he has the need to say something.
"Don't mind me asking," Tony starts, eyes focused on what he's doing, "but do you two know each other?"
Steve and Bucky share a confused look. "What?" Steve is the first to answer. "Of course not."
Tony lets out a scoff and glances at Steve for a second. "Well excuse me but you've been calling him Bucky since we discovered who he is."
It seems like Bucky is just realizing the same thing. And Steve too.
It had felt natural since the beginning and Steve hadn't even given it a second thought when Bucky hadn't asked how Steve knew his nickname. Bucky had been too busy gaining memories and recuperating but Steve didn't have an excuse. It had just… felt right. Sargent James Barnes had been a recurring subject between the Howlies and Steve had even asked some questions about the missing man.
Tony's finishing with the fifth and final vial, but Steve's attention is only on Bucky's watchful eyes. He knows they hide a small dose of mistrust and Steve wills his brain to come up with a fast and eloquent way to explain everything.
"You called me Bucky," he says.
Steve gets to his feet and takes the glass Tony had placed on the workbench. He hands it to Bucky but he doesn't take it, only scowls up at Steve.
"I knew Dum Dum." Steve watched Bucky's eyes turn distant and then his breathing abruptly stops for three seconds—Steve counts them. Bucky accepts the glass and takes a sip.
"Dugan," Bucky says with a distant voice. He takes another sip of water but his eyes stay on his lap. Steve can almost hear Bucky's memories running through his brain.
"He told me you were the one who came with the nickname," Steve comments. His smile is short-lived when he realizes Bucky is lost in memory.
Tony shoots him a worried look. "Don't worry, I'll stay with him," Steve assures him, rolling his chair to Bucky's right side. Tony leaves with the five vials of blood.
Steve takes the glass from Bucky's hand and replaces it on the workbench. Bucky directs a quick glance to Steve's face and his eyes become distant again. His lips are parted and his brow furrowed.
"Bucky?" This time, Bucky's head tilts in Steve's direction and he makes a little sound of acknowledgment. "I knew Gabe Jones, too. Do you remember him?"
"I…" He trails off and his hand raises to touch his forehead. The minuscule prick on the inside of his elbow must have already healed but Tony had still sellotaped a piece of sterile gauze over the area.
"He was in Azzano," Bucky says, eyes opening wide with recognition. "When HYDRA got us and…" He gets lost in thought once more and Steve doesn't interrupt.
Steve's hands are sweating and he's making sure his legs don't bounce. There's a foul taste at the back of his throat. Bucky's mouth ticks up with a memory and then back down with a different one.
"How did you meet Dugan?" Bucky suddenly asks, leaning over the arm of the chair.
"I…" Now it's Steve's turn to lose his voice. He swallows down what tastes like bile. "I was in Austria."
Bucky's brows lift with surprise. Before he can formulate a question, Steve clarifies. "I wasn't part of any of the units HYDRA captured." Bucky's expression turns to obvious confusion still underlined by mistrusts. His eyes dart to the lab's exits. "I went to Austria to try and rescue the soldiers. Which I did," he finishes with.
Bucky stares at him, eyes darting over Steve's face. "They were rescued." Bucky's voice is devoid of any emotion and Steve feels on edge. He watches as Bucky leans back against the chair.
"Bucky?"
"You rescued them? All of them?" Bucky is looking at him sideways.
"I let the soldiers out of the cells and they did the rest. We fought our way out of there but some of the men didn't make it. Dugan and Gabe did."
Bucky nods his head. Steve fidgets in his seat.
"How did you get there?"
"Plane." Bucky arches a brow. "I had some help… Actually, Tony's father, Howard, gave me a ride to Austria."
"Hm." Bucky seems to get lost in thought again, head bowed and hand taking its usual place inside his pocket.
Steve scrubs his palms over his thighs and listens to the music still coming from the speakers. He can see Tony out of the lab, speaking on the phone with someone, multiple holograms dancing before him.
"Captain America!" Bucky suddenly exclaims and Steve jumps on his stool. Bucky's eyes are wide and his mouth gapes open. "Oh my God, you're Captain America."
Steve fears something has happened to Bucky's brain and is about to call for Tony and an ambulance, to hell with keeping Bucky's existence a secret. "Bucky, you already knew that," Steve says carefully.
Bucky leans towards Steve. "No, no, not that Captain America," he says as if it makes any kind of sense. "I remember you! The movies!"
"Oh," Steve exhales the word. "Oh, no."
Nowadays, people know Captain America worked for the U.S.O., touring the nation promoting war bonds. They know this as a minor detail only, because Captain America punching real Nazis and aliens is far more exciting than Captain America punching a fake Hitler night after night in front of kids while wearing a costume—a costume anyone could now buy from the internet.
Steve remembers that period of his life in a bittersweet kind of way. He'd felt awkward in front of the public, taking pictures and signing autographs to kids. He had felt useless, knowing all the soldiers that were losing their lives while he was a dancing monkey. Still, seeing the kids' eyes shine while watching his performance had made him feel some kind of hope in those years. Also, the U.S.O. girls had been easy to work with and fun company.
"I hated you, man," Bucky says but the confession is accompanied by a grin that gives Steve pause. He's sure he's never seen Bucky smiling like this. His voice sounds lighter as if there aren't seven decades of horror weighting it down. "I never watched one of your performances but I did watch one of your stupid movies." Steve has never heard him talk so much so fast.
"I remember…" Bucky makes a pause but Steve thinks it's because he's trying to remember something and not because he has a problem forming words. "Yes, I remember!" Bucky jumps in his seat, leaning towards Steve and he feels so gobsmacked that he's unable to speak or move. The man before him looks like a completely different person. "I watched that movie and I hated you but I remember thinking: 'Wow he knows how to wear those tights.'"
Steve feels himself go red. Bucky lets out a heartfelt laugh and Steve's brain spears a thought to the lines that form around Bucky's eyes. "That's, uh, that's good to know, Buck."
"Oh my God." Bucky seems to be having trouble breathing, he's laughing so hard. Steve frowns for only a fraction of a second and then he can't help but smile. "Tell me you didn't assign yourself the title of captain," Bucky says between peals of laughter. He sags on the chair, head thrown back when Steve twists his lips, the gesture enough for Bucky to understand.
Steve lets Bucky laugh it out, arms crossed in feigned annoyance. "It was already in the name," he grumbles.
"Unbelievable," Bucky says, drying a few stray tears that roll from the corners of his eyes.
"It's not that funny."
"My abs hurt from laughing, Steve," Bucky counters. Steve tries not to smile too hard. "So you rescued those soldiers in your tights? Wish I had seen it." There's no bitterness in his tone but Steve still feels his muscles tense. "It wasn't your fault, Steve."
Steve averts his eyes, arms tightening around his middle. It's not Bucky's responsibility to make Steve feel better for things he thinks are his fault or not.
"Steve." Bucky's hand touches his arm, the fingers almost imperceptible. Steve forces himself to look the other man in the eye. "You didn't know I even existed, there's nothing you could have done." Steve makes his head nod. "You got me out of there at the end."
"I only found you because I wanted to kill you, Buck." He knows Bucky already knows this, but telling him feels dangerous, even if he doesn't know why.
"It doesn't matter anymore. You got me out of there." Bucky's eyes are piercing while he stares Steve down, wanting Steve to believe him. "Stop being so pig-headed, Steve," he scolds but Bucky's hand has reached Steve's and Steve lets his arms unfold so he can cradle Bucky's hand, skin cool to the touch. His knuckles have completely healed.
It's strange, Steve muses, how things play out, how life rolls the dice. Steve moves his stool until his knees knock with Bucky's. His eyes stay on Bucky's hand.
"Where are you from?" Steve finally asks one of the questions he's wanted for so long.
Bucky looks at their hands and then at Steve. "Brooklyn born and bred."
Fuck this world.
"Oh," is what he says even though his blood is boiling and he feels like trashing the place. "Me too."
They stay silent and it feels good. He calms down. Steve keeps holding Bucky's hand and studying it like it's crucial for his survival. He chances a look or two at Bucky's face and is glad to see the man's face is relaxed, the same way as his body.
It's not long until Tony comes back.
"So there are a few things we have to discuss, Barnes."
Steve and Bucky put some distance between them when Tony approaches, one brow arched.
"Okay, so here's the thing: you're not a free citizen. I mean, right now you aren't even a citizen." Bucky snorts. "The world doesn't know you exist—well, except HYDRA, of course, and that's the reason why you can't exit this building.
"I'm working on making you a real boy again," Tony reassures. He types on his phone for a minute. "I have a legal team—the best, mind you—working this out but we don't know how much it will take. I will also need you to sign some permits.
"Also, therapy. I know, Rogers, it's important, I'm on it too and I think I have the perfect candidates for Barnes' case. Zorina is one of—"
"Tony," Steve cuts in.
"What?" The engineer lifts his head from his phone.
"You're going a bit fast for my brain," Bucky says. "For now, could you just explain the situation? What I can do and what I can't."
Tony blinks but Steve can see him changing the way he's going to approach the situation. "Of course." He leaves the phone on the workbench and places his hands between his knees. "I know it's not fair, Barnes, but we can't have you roaming the streets." Steve wants to protest, but Bucky just nodding his head is enough to give him pause.
"Can he at least go out to the balcony of our apartment? Maybe to the roof? The Tower is the tallest building in New York, there's no way anyone can see him up there."
Tony adopts a pensive expression for a second. "I've already thought about that but…" He looks at Bucky who doesn't seem disappointed but resigned. "We could try," Tony says. Bucky almost seems to perk up at that but he still seems gloomy, his mood suddenly sinking.
"Okay, balcony and roof are green but going out is red," Tony says. "We have the private gym so you can show him that too."
Steve's eyes stray from Bucky's slumped form, shoulders drawn like no one is talking to him, and he finds Tony's, who seems to have noticed Bucky's change of mood too.
"Well…" Tony drawls. "I'll be getting on with the shakes. If you have any questions you know how to find me." He gives Steve one last meaningful look and then he's gone.
"You okay?"
Bucky looks at him eventually but he seems reluctant. He massages his shoulder and Steve has the feeling he's looking for the correct words to tell him whatever he has in mind.
"Could I sleep alone tonight?"
There are more than a few ways Steve wants to react to the words, which go from being hurt to a full-blown tantrum. He settles on a dispassionate "yes."
They stare at each other for a long minute.
"So…" Steve clears his throat. "Do you want me to show you the gym?"
Bucky stares at him without answering and Steve tries not to fidget under his gaze, the same way he tries not to overthink Bucky's request. Steve thinks he's panicking on the inside even when he feels numb.
"Okay," Bucky answers eventually. He stands up and waits for Steve to show him the way.
Steve tries to understand what went wrong in the last five minutes and it only makes his stomach twist with uncertainty. The hopelessness from the morning comes crashing over him.