thecapitol | Once we were two little boys from Brooklyn (Closed)

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Once we were two little boys from Brooklyn (Closed)

Who| Bucky Barnes (MCU) and Steve Rogers
What| Steve wakes up from the Ship mini-arena with Bucky on guard
Where| Steve's room in D9
When| Backdated to the day after the Ship mini-arena
Warnings/Notes| I ain't got nothing yet ~~except Bucky being a creeper~~

As soon as they had brought Steve back Bucky had slipped back into the District 9 quarters and to the man's room. By this point he had become a familiar point to the other residents, his frequent presence excused and expected so much he might as well have been assigned to this district in the first place rather than 1.

So it was easy to get inside, easy to shut the door and approach the bed and look at Steve's sleeping form, whole and uninjured as if he hadn't been anywhere at all. Easy then to slide down against the wall next to the bed and pulls his legs up to his chest, press his back to the flat surface so he can keep an eye on the man in the bed and the door both, all areas covered. A kitchen knife is hidden up his left sleeve where the metal arm will make any scanners attempting to find weapons useless and he's as prepared for anything as he can be in this place.

He hasn't slept, which isn't unusual, despite sparring for hours with the Widow and the other man sharing his original name the day before while Steve was fighting and dying. He sometimes feels how tired he is creeping in his limbs but steadfastly refuses to allow it to have its way despite how his head bows down towards his chest from time to time. The absence of his longer hair still feels strange when this happens, there's no sweep of it against his cheeks and neck anymore and he almost misses it because when he catches glimpses of himself in mirrors it's like James Barnes is staring back out at him, there in everything but his expression.

Dealing with those thoughts is a distraction and he needs to stay on guard, watching the door and Steve, waiting for him to wake. He's not sure what will happen when he does.

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It's not often anymore that Steve is plagued by troubling dreams, not often that he feels like the ice is closing in around him and his breath is being stolen from his lungs. That he'll wake up and another half century will have passed without him even knowing. He's already so lost in the time he's found himself in that the idea of it happening again - it's not pleasant.

His sleep becomes more restless, more troubled as the scene in his mind plays out. His breathing increases in speed as he resists the way his mind picks and pulls at the wounds that this arena is doing its best to reopen.

Then just as suddenly, Steve's eyes snap open and he's staring at an unfortunately familiar ceiling. He just lays there and catched his breath, mind racing over what happened before this, reminding himself of his situation and that while not frozen, he's not exactly safe either.

Something changes.

He hears before he registers with his eyes the change in Steve. It's the way his breathing increases in speed that first draws his attention, the way his limbs shift against the mattress that secures it. Bucky stands up from his vantage point, concern filling his head as he approaches the bed, uncertain what to do.

Steve sometimes did this before, sometimes he couldn't breath or he'd breath so fast and so shallow and Bucky would... what did he do then? But that was when Steve was smaller, before the serum. This is different, this is--

-- it's a dream, maybe like the ones that disturb the Soldier's sleep.

He's drawn closer, lifting his right hand. Steve would wake him in his place, he should do the same but before he can the man in the bed opens his eyes and Bucky freezes in place like that, hand outstretched almost to touching Steve's shoulder.

"Steve?"

The sound of Bucky's voice snaps him from his racing thoughts, his gaze shifting to the other man. For a sharp moment, Steve almost isn't sure who he's looking at. It's Bucky, that's without a doubt, but he looks so much more like he used to that it feels like he's waking up to the wrong time. Or to the other Bucky, but no those are blue eyes. Eyes haunted still.

"You got a haircut," Steve almost looks surprised he said it - which he is, his mind still fuzzy from waking up after dying so violently - but goes with it, "looks good."

He does like it, makes him think less of the Winter Soldier and more of Bucky when he looks at him now. More of his friend and less of the man who tried to stop him from saving countless lives.

They're not the first words he expected. Bucky stares down at him and in the space between when he's trying to decide how to answer his hand moves of its own accord to close the last few inches between it and Steve's shoulder. Well, maybe not of its own accord, maybe of familiarity and second-nature, giving back one of those casual touches Steve seems to throw his way with ease. His fingers rest lightly, uncertain if it's right but persevering since it's already done.

"Yeah... I did." He glances away for a moment at the compliment, shifting his weight at the bedside. "It needed attending to." So Natasha had insisted.

"You were dreaming."

When Bucky places his hand on his shoulder, Steve can't stop the quirk of a small quick smile - even with the lingering haze of despondence in his mind, some happiness from the gesture shows through. It wasn't often that the man felt comfortable instigating touch with him, or even did it much at all, so when Bucky does it without encouragement, it shows Steve just how far he's coming along. It's slow progress, but Steve is willing to go at whatever pace works for Bucky.

"Did someone tell you that or did you decide it?" Steve raises an eyebrow at him.

There's a pause before Steve nods reluctantly. "Yeah, I was. Not a very pleasant one."

Edited 2014-08-04 19:06 (UTC)

"The Black Widow." he answers honestly, "It's better like this." That's a whole other kind of progress right there, not to mention he let Natasha actually do the deed. It pleases him that Steve approves of it, reassuring him that he made the right choice in allowing it.

But right now Bucky's more focused on Steve, focused on what happened to him and his wellbeing.

Bucky bows his head at the confirmation. "You're alright." it's half a question and half an attempt at reassurance, stilted as it comes out. Steve would say it were their places reversed, he has in the recent past.

Of course Natasha did, but he also recognizes the huge step this is for the other man. To be honest, he wasn't sure when Bucky would let Natasha near him again, he figured that was a pretty unsteady line between the two, but he's glad to see it crossed. And with little to no bloodshed it seems.

Part of him always worries that he's not the best thing for Bucky, that he's holding him back or just becoming the man's new master, both things Steve would never want. Though, moments like this, Bucky doing things unprovoked, making some choices and reaching out, it gives him some reassurance that despite any set backs Steve might present, Bucky is still able to find himself.

"Yeah, I am, thank you, Buck," he gives him another small smile.

Bucky nods and withdraws his hand then, letting it fall back to hang down against his thigh. He stays standing at Steve's bedside, watching him with uncertain expectation.

The thanks helps some to soothe his inner turmoil but it's not enough to calm the waves that have been roiling inside him since yesterday, since he realised they had taken Steve and not him. It's a mix of stinging failure and unfamiliar emotions, emotions he's forgotten how to handle and process. Anger was the one he understood most and had clung to in that understanding, even though it would have led him to disaster had distraction not been thrown in his way.

It's the other one's that are worse, the fear and -- helplessness, not for himself (he's resigned to that when it happens), but to do something for someone else. He had saved Steve's life once not really knowing why and now, knowing something of why, he could not.

"I should have been with you."

He thinks he's ready for whatever judgement will come. The Asset understood what failure meant with Hydra but with Steve Rogers it's an unknown.

Steve watches Bucky seem to struggle with himself for a second, then the words make it all so much more clear. He remembers feeling that way when he'd died so soon after Bucky had shown up in the arena. For days after he'd struggled with myself and his few regrets, never was death the problem, it was leaving behind both Buckys. That had torn him up.

So, he can't help but be glad this time was only a day for Bucky.

Sitting up finally, Steve looks over at the man - this man who was his closest friend once, who is still the most important person in Steve's life, even if he might not know him very well anymore - and gives him a small, understanding smile.

"The Capitol has some aces up their sleeves, I got picked to go in, like it or not, nothing to be done about it, just the hand we got dealt" his look becomes more sympathetic. "It's something that could very well happen again, so we just gotta roll with the punches, Buck. Don't be too hard on yourself about it."

"I..." he starts, stops, looks confused and wrong-footed by Steve's response and the accompanying smile. This wasn't normal for a mission failure. This was unknown.

The reasoning, Bucky thinks, is sound. The Capitol chose, they would not allow anyone else to go who was outside that list and they were too powerful to fight even if Bucky had been aware of when they took Steve. Fighting the Capitol was dangerous and would result in punishment.

But he still felt like he'd failed. Failure never went unpunished.

"But I'm supposed to." he says, finally, looking at Steve like he was willing him to understand.

Steve is pretty sure he understands, that he gets it - to a degree. Even Bucky back in the day probably would be beating himself up about this to a point, just better at expressing it, but this Bucky, his thinking still seems very one dimensional. So, Steve feels he can understand what he might be thinking. Not to hard to guess at least.

He pulls his legs up to sit cross legged, patting the bed in front of him in an offer to sit. If Bucky chooses to ignore it or not accept, Steve won't push it, but he also wants to talk with him on equal ground.

"You didn't do anything wrong, so I'm not going to scold you, if that's what you're expecting," Steve says it kindly, but firm. He's not going to beat around the bush on this, Bucky needs to realize that not everything is tallied in success or failure.

It takes a moment but Bucky slowly sinks down to sit on the bed, leaving a respectful distance between himself and Steve. He's not sure if it was an order or not but decides no harm can come from allowing himself to accept the invitation.

He's unsure how to respond to that statement, if he should confirm or deny that Steve's assessment of him was true. Though a scolding was comparatively light compared to the forms of punishment he was accustomed to receiving, it was expected though and in light of it not happening...

Well, what is he supposed to do? But then Steve asserts that he did nothing to deserve punishment in the first place except Bucky still feels like he failed in some way.

"Yes." he admits, missing the sweep of his longer hair for a moment as he bows his head forward. "It's not right?"

If there's one thing that Bucky should be glad about is that Steve is endlessly patient when it comes to his friend. He just wants Bucky to have a level of free will that the man still seems to be struggling with obtaining and he's willing to explain as much as Bucky needs from him to get him there.

"It's not right to expect punishment for something you didn't do wrong. Or even for actual wrongs. Not every wrong is going to get punished and not every right will be rewarded, sadly sometimes people reward wrongs and punish rights, it's an unfortunate truth," his voice is calm and at ease with explaining this.

He remembers what Natasha told him not that long ago. Words that haunt him and he feels he needs to set that straight finally. "I know you feel you failed me, but I'm your friend, not your master, I'm not going to deal out punishments, especially undeserved ones."

He is glad about it. Beyond that he is grateful for it when he feels like he is continually failing to understand something that should, perhaps, be basic. Every programmed in instinct in him is jarred by this diversion from expected protocol.

But then he see's the problem as Steve points it out, he says friend and all he knows how to do is treat Steve like a commanding officer, like a handler -- the only relationship he knows in memory. He hadn't thought that was wrong since Barnes had been a sergeant in Steve's unit, subordinate to Captain America, he'd thought it would be right.

It's not the same thing.

"Then..." he looks at Steve, clearly with the curtain of hair to hide his face. "what should I do?" Bucky feels like he should do something, like he needs to do something.

He puts a hand on Bucky's shoulder, giving him a look of deep empathy. Steve really hates what Hydra did to this man before him. He only put off hunting them down to find Bucky, to make sure he was safe, after that point, he has every intention of holding true to his original promise. He won't stop 'til all of Hydra is dead or captured.

"Well, that's the hard part, because it's up to you, Buck," he gives the shoulder a comforting squeeze. "How about you stop over thinking it and just do the first thing that comes to mind - that's not Hydra programming. Pretty much how most people do it." Minus the programming part that is.

He gives him a sad smile, "Sorry, pal, but there's no manual for how to be you."

If they ever get the opportunity to go back to the world they came from Bucky would be right beside Steve in doing that, burning Hydra down to the ground and salting the earth after they were done. He can feel deeply their claws are still sunk into body and mind, no matter how much he wishes to be away from them he is still so much what they designed him to be. Someone who has no idea how to be without orders.

"What would he do?" he said, registering the warm weight of Steve's hand on his shoulder. Bucky can deal with that touch so much more easily than that open look on the man's face, the one that says so much more than words ever can, so he turns his eyes to his hands instead. "The man I was."

Maybe he shouldn't have asked that. It's a question that's only going to serve to remind him of what he isn't anymore, like a ghost living in a dead mans body.

Yeah, part of Steve wishes Bucky hadn't asked that. He's not surprised by the question, but it's not one he wants to answer. He doesn't want Bucky trying to live up to the man he once was. There's no going back. Only forward.

He shakes his head, "Fret and be a pain in the ass, probably, though it doesn't matter what you'd have done in the past. This is about what you'd do now, not then."

Steve gives him a sympathetic look, "Only thing you can do is be you. Don't try to live up to the past, nothing good comes from that," his tone says he's had his own struggles with that.

A frustrated sound breaks out of him before Bucky can register that he's going to do it, or restrain it. He looks surprised for a second before clamping down, his gaze lowering. It's no help at all, like he knew it wouldn't be because he doesn't know how to do that, even with being told.

It would be so much simpler if Steve would just tell him what to do.

... but then does he really want to go back to that life of blindly following, even with someone like Steve giving him the orders? No. This is him railing against something he can't help but perceive as a failure, no matter how many assurance he's given to the contrary. He is losing track of why he came here.

"I want," Want is such a monumental word, "to help you."

The second the word want crosses Bucky's lips, Steve feels his face lighting up with a smile, obviously pleased to hear such a word from his friend. At times, it's felt like pulling teeth to get this far and it's been worth it, every second. It probably wouldn't have matter what Bucky wanted to do, Steve would have made sure he had what he needed to accomplish whatever it was. So, he's a bit relieved it's something he can help him with.

"I think we can make that work," along with that smile, his voice carries his affection for the other man.

He pauses, figuring maybe he should help Bucky on what to do to help him exactly, "In fact, if you don't mind sticking around, I could use some company today?" A suggestion, an offer, but giving Bucky the chance to decide if he wants to or not.

Because it would be nice to have someone to just be there to keep his mind from wandering back to the phantom pains in his arm or the sneaking feeling of a chill along his skin. He's not the kind to talk about his feelings or what he's been through. Not really. Maybe one day Bucky will get that from him, but he knows the man is struggling with too much as it is.

Relief drains some of the tension from his shoulders as he understands that he's chosen a correct avenue. It means he can do something useful for Steve, he needs to be useful so badly right now.

"Okay." Bucky nods, drinking in that smile on Steve's face as praise for making the right choice.

He can stay beside Steve as long as the other man wishes him to. The possibility of refusing the question doesn't even cross his mind. This is where he needs to be. "I'll stay."

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Once we were two little boys from Brooklyn (Closed)

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