Chapter 2
Steve was crying. Soft, muffled sobs emanating from him as he clung to Bucky desperately. Bucky made a few choked sounds as well, obviously very aware of the revelation of this event. The blond man whispered into the other man’s chest, muffled murmurs of “I thought you were dead” and “You’re back, you’re actually back”. There was a long moment before Steve was actually able to form coherent and stable sentences.
"Please tell me that you're okay," Steve hiccupped, finally pulling away from Bucky to look him over. All Bucky gave him was a nod, running his hand over his shoulder in a reassuring manner. Steve put his own hand over Bucky’s; hesitant to make it known that it was a common gesture of his often used to comfort Steve. Despite the soldier’s words though, Steve was not too keen to believe him.
“You’re filthy, Buck.” Bucky gave a tight grin, completely void of humor. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something but then quickly decided against it and remained silent. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He gave no reply but followed Steve nevertheless. Steve showed Bucky to the restroom and deposited him just inside the door. “Go ahead and get in. I’ll bring you some clean clothes.” Bucky grabbed at him as he turned away though, the fear that had first been in his eyes when he showed up was back again.
“Don’t go.” The short, simple sentenced spoken with such desperation that it took Steve aback. “Don’t leave me, please.” Steve flinched at the pain in his voice.
“Don’t worry; I’m just going into the other room. I will be right back.” He kept his tone soft and steady, attempting to keep Bucky as calm as possible. “I’m going to grab you some clothes to change into.” It almost looked as if Bucky was going to refuse to let Steve go for a moment.
“Swear?” The childishness frightened Steve. This man was Bucky, without a doubt. He could see it when it showed through the alarm in his eyes or the way he touched Steve, but the fear and reservation was not him at all.
“Yeah, of course I do.” He released Steve’s arm and went into the restroom without any further reluctance. Steve quickly strode into his room and quickly grabbed anything he assumed would fit Bucky, which happened to be a plain grey t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that were set on his dresser. He caught his reflection in the mirror above the clothes. He looked ragged; his face red and inflamed from sniveling but also scrunched with worry. He let out a few shaky breaths before he felt strong enough to go back to Bucky. Nat standing there as apprehensive as Steve knew he looked stopped him short in the hallway, however.
“Are you sure about this?” Steve shook his head, not understanding.
“Am I sure about helping Bucky? Damn straight, I am. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that he’s okay, that he’s safe and knows it.”
“He’s dangerous Steve. You don’t know what he has been through, what he has done. He is unpredictable. For all we know, he could snap back into assassin mode while you’re sleeping tonight.” Their voices remained subdued but as they went on, became more and more venomous.
“He’s my friend, Natasha, my best friend. So if you honestly think I’m not going to help me, you obviously don’t know me very well.” She leaned close to him and poked his chest hard.
“I do know you Rogers. And I know you are stupid enough to do this and get yourself and probably Bucky killed in the process, because you are too stubborn to listen to me. The Winter Soldier-,” Steve cut her off before she could finish.
“His name is Bucky. And if you are so opposed to what I am doing, you are free to leave.” Nat glowered at him viciously and without another word, stalked away. Steve glared after her, feeling terrible already but knew he had bigger things to worry about.