Chapter 3
Steve stood outside the bathroom door for a moment, listening as Natasha returned to the kitchen. Hawkeye spoke first.
“How did-,” he was quickly cut off, irritation obvious in her voice.
“We’re leaving Barton.” She was quick and clip about it.
“Nat, what happened?”
“Rogers says he doesn't need our help, so we don’t need to be here. Come on.” There was a heavy sigh that Steve recognized as Clint’s but there was movement followed by the echo of leaving footsteps.
“But food-,” once again he was cut off by the slam of a door. The sudden silence if filled with the sounds of Sam grumbling to himself as he made his way over to the hallway. He peered down the corridor and eyed Steve cautiously. His face was earnest but the attempt to remain untroubled was there.
“You’re good, right?” Steve gives a nod, and attempts to look exactly the opposite of how he feels, hopeful and steady. He bobbed his head with affirmation, not exactly looking convinced but willing to accept it. “Okay then. There will be plenty of food when you guys are ready. I came here for a movie so I’m going to watch my damn movie.” Steve laughed.
“Sure, Sam,” Steve smiled at him. “Go ahead.” Sam went back into the kitchen, to finish cooking, he presumed, and Steve turned to face the bathroom entrance again. He took a deep breath and knocked. “Bucky, it’s me. May I come in?” There was no confirmation from the other side of the wood so Steve slowly creaked the door open to go through. He halted as he saw the soiled clothes thrown into the corner covered in a lot more filth then he had originally thought and then Bucky himself, naked and covered with an equal amount of grime. The water wasn’t on. He was simply sitting in the tub with his legs pulled up to where he could rest his chin on his knees and wrap his arms around them.
“I brought you some clean clothes,” Steve mumbled lamely, putting them on the counter and walking over to the tub. Bucky showed no signal of acknowledging him. His eyes stared straight ahead, obviously not really seeing the white tile on the wall but something more. “You okay there, Buck?” He kneeled by the bath and when there was still no response he gently reached out towards him. “Bucky?” The moment his fingers touched his skin, Bucky recoiled as if he had been struck. Steve quickly pulled his arm back but the dark haired man looked at him now and smiled a broken reflection of the man he knew.
“Steve,” Bucky said almost in wonder. He had seen the exact same smile the night he had rescued him from Hydra… the first time. Rogers could have cried in that moment because it was such a Bucky-like expression.
“Yeah, it’s me Buck.” Steve grinned back and kept his voice as gentle as possible. He reached out to move a strand of hair from Bucky’s face and he flinched again so Steve pulled his hand back to set it on the edge of the tub.
“You came back, Stevie.” His voice was so light, almost childlike again and it terrified Steve. This was nothing like the man he knew; the man would smirked at everyone and practically oozed charisma and confidence. “I knew you would. I told them.” The smile faded from his face and his tone grew pitched with unease. “They said you had died though and you weren’t coming back for me.” There was a pause, then he looked Steve directly in the eyes and the smile was back. “But you did.”
“Don’t be stupid, you knew I would.” Steve grinned and he hoped that Bucky wouldn’t notice the tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes. “You should get cleaned up. I’ll wait out-,” Once again Bucky spoke out against Steve trying to depart.
“No, don’t leave again.” He couldn’t refuse the distress in his voice.
“Okay. I’ll stay. I’m just going to sit over here. You go ahead and shower.” Steve moved to sit on the closed toilet lid. Bucky eyed him doubtfully, as if any second he thought Steve might bolt but he did stand and turned the water on. He closed the curtain just enough so that the water wasn’t splashing out but besides that, Bucky didn’t seem to care about his state of undress. He shouldn’t, Steve had seen him naked plenty of times but it still bugged him how nonchalant he was about it. He kept glancing up to look at the hazy man behind the screen, not entirely sure that this was real. His eyes kept focusing on the metallic glint of his left arm, hidden on the other side of his body for the most part. Finally, Bucky shut off the water and he stepped out of the shower, taking the towel, Steve began to hand him. Bucky was a lot more muscular then he was before but he looked gaunt somehow now, as if he had eaten little for a long time now. Scars littered his body, spotty in some areas and crisscrossing in others. The scar at the seam where his should met the metal of the false limb made Steve cringe. It looked ragged and thick, nearly painful even after all this time. Bucky dried off, dressed quickly, and then looked at Steve expectantly. Again, Steve was hit with the contrast of this Bucky to his own and it made his chest ache. He led him to the kitchen, wary to stay close but not touch, where Sam had set out a couple of bowls of food.
“You should eat.” Steve was met with a blank stare but he managed to coax Bucky into eating some of the pasta. There was silence for a long time cut with only the sounds of utensils against ceramic and swallowing. At some point Sam appeared at the entrance of the kitchen and Bucky stilled besides him. “Hey, calm down, Bucky it’s okay.” He looked up to Sam hovered by the little walk by the front door. He stood to go and talk with him but turned back to the man still seated at the table to tell him to “Don’t move”.
“I trust you with this Steve, but what exactly is your plan,” Sam asked in a quiet voice.
“Honestly, I’m not sure.” Sam didn’t like the sound of that and he took an exasperated breath.
“I don’t know why I put up with this bullshit,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “You have to get him checked out by some doctors. Take him to Bruce and Stark, at least.” Steve nodded, understanding why that was necessary.
“I will. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” Sam laughed.
“I’m not worried about you. It’s your shiny friend I’m worried about.” He sighed and moved towards the door. “Good night, Man without a plan.” Steve chuckled.
“Good one.”
“Was it? I felt like it was kind of forced.”
“Nah, you’re good. Sounded very natural.” They chuckled and exchanged some proper farewells before Steve went to the kitchen. Bucky was nowhere to be seen, their bowls of spaghetti sitting alone at the table. Panic rushed through Steve as he called out Bucky’s name and searched through the apartment. He found Bucky in his bedroom, staring at some papers scattered on his desk.
"Bucky," he asked as he walked over to stand behind him. He was staring at a drawing Steve had done awhile back, of Bucky back in 1943. He was leaning against an imaginary wall, his head thrown back with laughter. He moved it to look at another drawing behind it, Bucky standing with a group of people, a woman, two girls and a boy: the Barnes family. Bucky's fingers skimmed over the page, gliding over the faces of his lost family members but never actually touching the paper. He pushed it aside to look at the next drawing. This one was only half done, with Bucky fully fleshed out, all casual with his trademark smirk, his arm around the shoulder of an outlined man.
"That's us," Bucky muttered in a gravely voice. Steve nodded. "You know who I'm supposed to be."
"Buck," Steve started but the brunette whipped his head up to stare at him intently.
"I'm not the man you remember. I'm not your friend. I don't even think I'm human anymore."
"Don't say that. Of course you are."
"You don't know the things I've done. "
"I have a pretty good idea. I've read all the files Hyrda had about you. I know what they MADE you do. You never had a choice in the matter."
"I let them make me forget."
"No you didn't," Steve told me, getting agitated. "They're the ones to blame for what happened to you. They took your choices away, they took everything from you. You never let them or gave them anything, Bucky." Bucky didn't look too sure and he hesitated before continuing.
"I want to be Bucky again. I want to be your friend." Steve stared at him, not sure how to proceed.
"You are my friend," he said finally. "You ARE Bucky, you just have to remember that."
"Sometimes, I forget I'm not the asset anymore. I might hurt you." Steve gave him a tight smile.
"I can take care of myself, Buck." The words rang familiar and the ache in Steve's chest throbbed. "I'm going to do everything I can to help you, okay. I'm going to stick through this with you. Remember, I'm with you-,"
"Till the end of the line," Bucky finished hollowly with a grimace. He stared into Steve's eyes, searching for an answer as to how to proceed, knowing exactly what he'd said.
"Yeah, till the end of the line."