Catch your breath
Hit the wall
Scream out loud
As you start to crawl
Back in your cage
The only place
Where they will
Leave you alone
'Cause the weak will
Seek the weaker til they've broken them
Could you get it back again?
Would it be the same?
Fulfillment to their lack of strength at your expense
Left you with no defense
They tore it down

- "Simon" by Lifehouse

Visits from Steve were supposed to be the highlight of his day. Bucky usually counted down the hours, waiting anxiously on the edge of his chair until the guard on duty would come get him.

This time, Bucky was dreading it.

When he sat down across from Steve and picked up the phone, all he could think about was how they weren't supposed to be here. The last time they'd spoken, the glass between them had seemed so insubstantial. He'd almost forgotten it was even there, because he was looking past it, to a future he could almost grasp.

Now, the glass felt like it was a foot thick. It was a barrier closing him in, just as surely as the cinder block walls and the locked doors.

He should have been home. Steve should have been sitting right next to him, holding his hand, beaming like he was about to burst from sheer joy...

Instead, Steve just gave him a wan smile, his eyes weary and worn. "Hey," he said softly, "you doing okay?"

No, Bucky wanted to say. What kind of question is that? I'm still in here, aren't I? But he couldn't bear to voice those thoughts and watch Steve's face fall, so he just shrugged and mumbled, "I guess."

Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yeah...well, I'm not okay. Even after all this time, I'm still not used to this. I'm not used to...not having you here. And to be honest...I really haven't been doing so great since all of this started."

Bucky stared down at the counter, chewing on the inside of his lip. He couldn't look up at Steve, couldn't meet his eyes. If he did, he would... Well, he just couldn't. So he stared at a large scratch in the counter that made a jagged line across the left half until it hit the partition between him and the next little cubicle.

"I barely thought I could wait long enough until your case was dismissed," Steve continued, "and now...we have to wait even longer? I don't know when I've been more disappointed. Discouraged."

Please stop talking, Bucky silently begged. You're only making it worse.

But Steve didn't stop. "It's only been a couple of months, and I already feel like I can barely keep it together. Especially with Jake on top of everything. I just...I can't keep going on like this for much longer. Not on my own."

What do you want me to do about it? Bucky's heart screamed silently. Don't you think I want to get out of here too? Don't you think I'd give just about anything to be with you right now? His chest ached more and more with every word crackling through the phone line.

"I just wish things could be like they were," Steve said heavily. "I wish we could just...talk things out. Take as long as we need, and tackle all these problems together. I wish we didn't have to sit here and try to endure the wait."

Just look at how much you're hurting him, a sinister whisper twined through the back of his mind. All of that anguish you're hearing? It's because of you. After everything he's done for you, you can't give him anything but more trouble than he has to deal with already.

Bucky's stomach twisted into a huge knot. Steve was right here, sitting directly across from him, talking to him, and the monster had the audacity to speak up anyway. It had been a very long time since that had happened, other than times when Steve had interrupted the voices in his head.

Why did the voice have to speak up now, during the one chance Bucky had to spend some time with Steve? Why did it have to ruin everything?

I don't know, the monster returned with a mocking leer in its voice. Why do you ruin everything?

Steve was still talking, expressing how sad he felt at yesterday's events, but the voice in his head kept talking too. It was like Steve wasn't even there.

He said it himself, you know. You're even more of a nuisance than you usually are, when you're in here. He's disappointed that he'll have to put up with this so much longer than he thought he would. He's disappointed that he'll have to keep visiting you.

"Buck...?" Steve's voice finally broke through, sounding so muffled and distant, like he was a hundred miles away. "All quiet on the Western front?"

Bucky's breath caught in his throat, and in his surprise, he finally looked up. How did he know? How does he always know?

He looked into Steve's eyes, and even though he could only see them through the grubby glass separating them, he almost thought he could feel Steve's warmth. Those eyes were filled with concern and longing...for him. For his sake.

See? the voice snarled in his ear with a desperate quality that meant it knew defeat was imminent. You're the one causing that pain. If it wasn't for you...

"I could use some ammo," Bucky said, his voice coming out rather husky.

Steve leaned in as close as he could, his voice a fuzzy murmur in Bucky's ear. "None of this is your fault, Buck. You are the victim here. You heard what Matt said in the hearing yesterday, right? He said that you're not guilty. And that's something I could've told anyone ages ago. It doesn't matter what anyone else says or thinks. I know who you really are, and I know that's the truth."

Now that he was looking into Steve's eyes, Bucky found that he couldn't bear to look away. "Do you...think I'll ever...make it out of here?"

"Yes."

The answer came without hesitation, without reservation. Bucky longed to be able to hold that same level of conviction, but the most he could manage was the decision to let Steve carry enough hope for both of them. Maybe...just maybe...it might be enough to pull them through.

Steve wondered what a normal life was like. How long had it been since his day-to-day life had even resembled something normal? His best friend was in prison, his son never laughed or cried, and he didn't know what to do about either one.

Before the additional charges had been filed against Bucky, Steve had thought he was doing okay. Not great, but okay. He'd stumbled his way into a sort of routine, and all he had to do was count down the days until Bucky would come home and restore some kind of sanity to his life. Once Bucky got home, and he no longer had to worry about what was happening to him, Steve would be able to focus on the other areas of his life, with his best friend there to lend a helping hand. But now that the illusion had been shattered, Steve realized how fragile it had really been.

He really didn't know what he was doing. He was powerless to do anything about Bucky's situation, and he wasn't much better with Jake. No matter what he did or how hard he tried, they both felt so far beyond his reach.

But that didn't mean he could just give up. Every night, when he collapsed into bed and struggled to fall asleep despite how exhausted he was, he reminded himself, You have to keep trying. They deserve everything you have to give, and more. Until you've given them every ounce of effort you have left, you can't give up.

He wasn't sure if thinking in those terms helped or not. But he didn't have the time or energy left to worry about that, so he didn't. Once everything was settled, once things were better for all of them, he could look back on this time and process it. For now, he just had to make sure they all survived long enough to have the luxury of hindsight.

On the Saturday after Bucky's hearing, Steve decided to take Jake to the park for the afternoon. Jake had been particularly quiet and well-behaved, and besides, he figured they could all use a break. Sam had errands to run, it wasn't one of Bucky's visitation days, and Steve figured some fresh air and sunshine would do him and Jake some good.

It was a beautiful day, warm but not hot, with a fresh breeze that rustled through the trees and occasionally carried with it the delectable smells of pastry from a bakery on the corner. The sky was a cheerful shade of blue, filled with puffy clouds that looked exactly like cotton balls. As soon as he set foot outside, Steve felt his mood lightening. What was it about pleasant weather that made everything seem so much more hopeful?

Apparently, every other parent with children young enough for the playground had been thinking along the same lines. Not only were the paths in the park filled with cyclists, runners, and people walking alone or in pairs, but the playground was packed as well. Children ran this way and that, swinging from the monkey bars, bobbing up and down on the seesaw, or clambering up the steps and whizzing down the slides. Mothers sat on benches nearby, chatting or bouncing babies on their knees. Steve spotted two other fathers here with their children—one pushing his daughter on the swing, one playing frisbee with two boys who looked like they might be twins.

Steve glanced down at Jake, who stayed close by his side, though he'd let go of Steve's hand the second they stepped onto the sidewalk on this side of the street. His eyes darted around everywhere, trying to keep everything in sight at once.

It was always like this when they went to the park. Usually, they just walked along the path or sat on a bench to eat ice cream cones and people-watch. Jake always seemed so nervous around other people; Steve wanted to take it slow. They could gradually warm up to actually interacting with other children.

Still... Steve eyed the way Jake was watching three boys about his age playing tag around the jungle gym. Was that curiosity behind the nervousness? Maybe today was the day. Maybe Jake was finally ready to get a taste of a normal childhood.

He cast about for a simple activity to start with. "Hey, buddy," he said, crouching down next to Jake and pointing at the playground. "You want to try going down the slide today? It looks fun, doesn't it?"

This playground boasted three slides—a very short one for the smallest children, a taller one with a bump in the middle, and a tube slide that curved in a tight spiral. All three were very popular, with kids racing up the steps and whizzing back down only to race back up again. Steve smiled wistfully as he watched a mother sliding down the short slide with her toddler in her lap. The little girl laughed and clapped her hands when they reached the bottom.

Looking back at his own child, Steve saw that Jake was glancing uncertainly between the slides, then back to Steve. He bit his lip, his brow furrowing as the gears started turning. As always, trying to figure out what the right answer was.

"Come on," Steve coaxed, hoping to make it easier on him. "Let's try one. I think you'll like it."

Hesitantly, Jake nodded. He followed Steve over to the tall slide, shying away from a couple of kids who brushed past him, laughing as they chased each other around. Then, with a little more coaxing and a lot of nervous glances over his shoulder, Jake ventured up the steps.

Steve stood at the foot of the slide, smiling encouragingly up at his son, who clutched the railing at the top, staring down the length of blue plastic with palpable confusion. Unable to hold back a quiet chuckle, Steve waved up to him. He was sure that, to Jake, the whole thing must seem so mystifying. What was the point of climbing up a structure, only to slide down and then do it all over again?

Well, it was high time Jake found out why.

"A-scuuuuuuse me!" A little girl with tons of freckles on her light brown cheeks, a crazy cloud of black hair, and no front teeth squeezed past Jake to the top of the slide. "Ya better look out, 'cause the dragon's chasing me an' I gotta jump out the airplane before he gets me!"

Steve smiled, sidestepping as the girl slid down and then scampered off, swiping the air with an imaginary sword. Jake watched her go with a bewildered frown, looking around as if trying to figure out where the dragon and the airplane were.

"It's okay, Jake," Steve said with a chuckle. "Just slide down like she did."

Slowly, Jake lowered himself to sit at the top of the slide, clutching both sides with a white-knuckled grip. He'd been watching children playing on the slides, so he knew how to do it, but it still took a bit of convincing before he finally let go, leaned forward, and let gravity pull him down the slide.

"Atta boy!" Steve said, crouching at the foot of the slide to make sure Jake got steadily to his feet. "That was fun, wasn't it?"

Jake didn't seem too sure that it had been, but he made no protest when Steve suggested he go down the slide again. He wore his usual intent look as he slid down a second and third time—the same look he always wore when doing something that most children would consider fun. Instead of enjoying himself, he looked like he was just concentrating on performing a task correctly. It was probably the same expression he'd worn while completing one of Hydra's tests.

Baby steps, Steve reminded himself. Baby steps.

"Hey, you want to try the other slide now?" Steve suggested, pointing to the spiral tube slide.

"Okay."

The yellow tube slide began at the highest point of the play structure, and Steve couldn't see Jake from where he stood at the bottom. "Okay, Jake, are you ready?" he called. When he didn't get an answer, he added, "Don't worry; I'll catch you at the bottom."

Steve watched the dark opening of the slide, waiting for a little boy to emerge from the shadows. He wondered what Jake was thinking as he stood at the top. Was he scared because it was dark and he couldn't see the bottom? Maybe they should have stuck to the blue slide, where both of them could see everything that was happening...

Even when he craned his neck, he couldn't see Jake from his vantage point, but he could see the line of children that was beginning to form. Kids were leaning to the side and peering over each other's shoulders to see what the holdup was.

"C'mon!" some of them were whining.

"Hurry up!"

"It's my turn next!"

"Jake?" Steve called, feeling a stab of concern. "Come on down the slide, buddy!"

He could hear the kids who were closest to the slide more clearly, their voices echoing down the plastic tube. "C'mon, what's your problem?" a boy's voice said loudly. "Are you a scaredy-cat, or what? Just go already!"

A thump. The squeak of a shoe against plastic. A sickening crack followed by an ear-piercing scream.

Before he was even aware of moving, Steve whirled around and vaulted up the steps in a single bound. "Jake!"

Children scattered to either side as he pushed to the front of the crowd. There stood Jake at the dark opening of the slide, one hand still clutching the edge while the other was raised in a fist. At his feet lay a boy wearing a red T-shirt, screaming and clutching his face. Blood oozed between his fingers.

"Michael? Michael!" A woman shoved past Steve, dropping to her knees at the boy's side and gathering him in her arms. "Oh, Mikey, baby..." She tried to pry her son's hands away from his face, but that only made Michael sob harder as the blood gushed out even faster. His nose, unnaturally shoved to one side, was obviously broken.

Sinking to one knee, Steve took Jake by the shoulders, looking him up and down for any injuries. "Are you hurt?"

Jake's eyes were round and full of fear and confusion. He shook his head, clutching the front of his shirt as if to anchor himself.

"He pushed 'im!" The girl from before with the bushy hair stood at the front of the crowd, pointing at Michael. She looked a little unnerved by all the blood, but bravely stood her ground. "He tried to push that little boy down the slide instead a' waitin' his turn, and then the little boy punched him! I saw it!" She looked around for support. "Didn't you see it?" A few of the kids around her nodded and murmured agreement.

Michael's mother was struggling to her feet, holding her son in her arms though he looked too heavy for her. "I am so sorry about this," Steve said, quickly getting to his feet and stepping forward to help. "Can I...take you to the emergency room or...or help pay for—"

Instantly, her expression transformed from one of anguish to sheer loathing. "Just keep that monster away from my child!" With that, she struggled down the steps and hurried in the direction of the parking lot.

For a moment, Steve just stood there, rooted to the spot. Then he took one of Jake's hands in his and said quietly, "Come on. Let's go home."

Steve could feel the eyes of everyone in the park on him and Jake as they descended from the playground equipment and hastened towards their own car. He could feel the judgmental stares of parents, appalled at his violent and uncontrolled child. He could feel the frightened, unnerved looks of the children, most of whom had probably never seen such a serious injury before.

Steve's mind whirled, and he could only move on autopilot. This wasn't just a temper tantrum that had gotten out of control because of Jake's enhanced strength. He wasn't just throwing plates or ripping books apart. This time, Jake had actually hurt someone.

Steve was pretty sure he knew what had happened. Michael had pushed him, Jake had gotten scared, and he'd lashed out. Maybe he'd already been scared of the slide. Maybe the presence of so many other children already had him on edge, so Michael's lack of manners had come across as a threat to his safety.

But still...Jake had rarely even raised his voice against him or Sam, and he'd never used any kind of violence. Was that just because he and Sam were so much bigger than Jake, and held positions of authority over him? But he always seemed so timid, so uncertain...

Steve needed to understand. When they reached the car, he stopped Jake before he could climb inside. Squatting down to look him in the eye, Steve said, quietly but firmly, "Jake...I need you to tell me why you did that. Why did you hit that boy?"

Jake's big blue eyes were round with surprise. "He thought I was weak," he said, as if it should be obvious, "so I had to show him I was strong."

Steve's stomach lurched sickeningly. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised—that was exactly the sort of rhetoric Hydra would have pounded into him—but hearing those words in Jake's childish voice was deeply unsettling.

It also made him feel slightly desperate, longing to straighten out every twisted piece of Jake's worldview that Hydra had cursed him with. For now, he just looked Jake straight in the eye and said, "Listen to me. Hurting someone doesn't prove you're strong."

Jake's brow furrowed in consternation. "Yes, it does."

Sadness and something like despair filled Steve's heart. As he gazed into Jake's eyes, he felt like they stood on opposite sides of a great ravine, barely able to even see each other, let alone understand what it was like to stand on the other side. Jake didn't realize how dangerous and uncomfortable the jagged rocks on his side were, because he couldn't even see the lush grass on Steve's side.

With a sigh, Steve pushed himself to his feet and softly said, "We'll talk about this later."

Steve was grateful that he could visit Bucky the day after the altercation at the park. He'd talked the whole thing over with Sam, but he longed for Bucky to commiserate with him and give him some insight. More than ever, he wished Bucky could have been with him all along. Maybe things wouldn't have gotten so bad. Maybe he would have noticed the warning signs before Steve had.

It didn't take long for Steve to tell Bucky the whole story. As soon as Bucky asked him how Jake was doing, Steve launched into a detailed account of the whole thing, desperate for some sort of reassurance.

"...and I tried to offer my help," Steve finished, "but she just said, 'Keep that monster away from my child,' and hurried off. So all we could do at that point was go home. I don't even know what I would've said if she'd stayed, anyway."

Bucky had been listening in silence, his expression growing more and more concerned by the minute. But at this point, he snorted derisively. "I know exactly what you should've said. 'My little monster was raised by Nazis, what's your little monster's excuse?'"

Steve couldn't help chuckling despite himself, but he quickly sobered again. "What worries me the most is what Jake said to me afterwards. When I asked him why he did it, he said...'He thought I was weak, so I had to prove I was strong.'"

Bucky nodded, as if he'd expected that all along. "Sounds exactly like something Hydra would teach him. Survival of the fittest, you know."

With a weary sigh, Steve slumped in his chair. The immensity of the task he faced threatened to crush him. If there had ever been a moment it seemed easy, that was just because he hadn't wanted to admit that he was in over his head. "How am I ever going to teach him otherwise? Even after all this time...the way he sees the world is just so distorted. How am I supposed to show him there's a better way when he doesn't even see anything wrong with seriously injuring someone just because they pushed him?"

There was silence for a moment, then Bucky quietly said, "Well...how did you teach me?"

Steve had been staring blankly through the glass, but now he blinked and focused on Bucky again. He looked at him—really looked at him for the first time in a while. What with his left arm missing, his hair only just getting shaggy enough to hide the top of his ears, and a couple days' worth of stubble covering his chin instead of a mask, Bucky didn't look much like Winter used to. But his one remaining arm was still covered with scars, and the darkness of his past still lingered in the depths of his eyes.

When Steve didn't immediately respond, Bucky answered his own question. "You explained things to me. Described the way the world should be. Told me when I was doing something wrong, and why. And you also demonstrated what you were talking about. It took me a while to come around, but you kept on proving that everything you said was true." A smile softened the hard lines of his face. "That's what changed me, you know. Seeing how different you were...and wanting that for myself."

The desperate twisting sensation that had filled Steve's chest ever since the day before settled down more and more with each word. He looked again at the creases in Bucky's face, and saw that among the marks of exhaustion and trauma, there were also laugh lines in the corners of his eyes. And cutting straight through the jumbled marks of despair marring Bucky's arm was a single line reminding them both of the hope they'd found on the other side.

"Of course, Jake's not exactly the same as me," Bucky continued thoughtfully. "I also had memories of how it was supposed to be, so you probably have to do some things different than you did with me. But I think you're already off to a good start."

Not for the first time, or the last, Steve wished he could hug Bucky. Even just being able to hold his hand and give it a squeeze would be enough. Sadly, all he could do was murmur, "Thank you."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "What are you thanking me for, dummy?"

"Giving me hope." He took a deep, cleansing breath. "Besides, seeing you so calm about it helps me think...maybe I don't need to worry so much."

Bucky shrugged with a little smirk. "One of us has to be calm, right? So if you weren't worrying about it, I'd have to do it instead." Sadness slowly seeped into his smile. "And...as much as I wish you didn't have anything to worry about...it does help to remember that I'm not the only one having a hard time."

"You definitely aren't alone in that," Steve sighed. "But one day...one day, it will get easier."

Bucky's wistful eyes met his. "You really believe that?" he murmured.

"I have to."

Refrain from anger, and forsake wrath!
Fret not yourself; it tends only to evil.

- Psalm 37:8