Back to Square One
It's been a few days since the team's return from Sokovia. They've all seemed a little on edge, but Bucky's managed to get a little bit more of Tony out of the engineer. It's not that easy, and Tony definitely is still sullen and lost at times, but he's starting to come back to himself. He just needs time, and sometimes space.
That's why he took the invitation from Sam Wilson to go to lunch down in the Tower's atrium café today. Considering Bucky's status with the law is still pending, going any farther might be dangerous. Still, it's a chance to touch base with someone else and give Tony a bit of time to himself. Steve told him great things about Sam, too. Bucky's been wanting to get to know the guy.
"How have you been acclimating to life now that you're not back with them?" Sam asks at one point, his tone curious and caring.
Bucky looks up from his sandwich and pulls his head back in slight shock. He just hadn't been expecting something like that so early in the conversation. Everyone else danced around it with the pleasantries and talked about everything else possible first, but Sam went straight for it.
Then, Bucky remembers Steve told him about some of Sam's work with the VA. That makes sense. Sam probably asked him to this lunch to check on his mental health. That's actually pretty kind of him, if Bucky knew how to handle it.
"I-" He's off to an amazing start when he chokes on his own spit for a second over trying to put into words just what it all really feels like.
Because how do you tell someone that you're afraid of yourself? How does he verbalize the utter terror that rips up his spine when he closes his eyes at night and sees the endless hallways that were his home for seven decades? But then, there's also trying to articulate the way he's getting used to being a person again, thanks to people like Tony. And how does he put that into words? How does he explain how the other man has been helping him break out of his head?
Tony's been giving Bucky somewhere else to put his mind as they've built their friendship and it's been one of the biggest helps to keeping Bucky's head on his shoulders, but even that feels hard to just say.
"I'm gettin' by," he says instead of any of this, his tongue caught on words he doesn't trust and breath stuck in his chest. "Some days are easier than others."
There's a moment of quiet from Sam. It's enough that Bucky looks over to him and catches the look Sam's giving him. Concern. Is that what Sam's feeling right now?
"Are you doing anything during the day?" Sam asks. "Do you have any old hobbies you could get into? It might help."
Bucky blinks. "I mean, I been spending time down in the labs with Stark, but now you mention it, I used to paint. I think I wanna get back into that."
Sam hums. "What sort of paintings do you do? Watercolor, oils, or acrylic? What do you paint?"
"I mostly work in watercolor," Bucky finds himself saying, the words coming a lot more easily. "Never really tried oils, but what I did, I didn't like. Never tried acrylic. And mostly I paint what I see. Sometimes Stevie would hand me one of his sketches he'd done of somewhere we went that day and I'd paint that."
Sam smiles softly. "So, you and Steve have always had a pretty close relationship?"
Bucky sighs softly. "That punk and me been inseparable since we met. I think he might'a been my first love without me even realizing it."
"Your first love?" Sam asks softly. "Were you ever together that way?"
Bucky shakes his head. "Nah. I had a crush on him, I think, when we were younger. Like, 18, 19. That didn't stick though, and Stevie had his own agenda when it came to romance."
Sam leans back in his seat and takes a sip of his soda. "But you two are really good friends. Have been since the beginning. He told me stories about you like you were one of Jesus's disciples."
Bucky laughs softly, ducking his head. "We got on real good. Like I said, we were inseparable."
"Are you making any connections like that now?" Sam continues. "Here at the Tower, I mean. You mentioned the labs with Stark. How's that going?"
Bucky shrugs and tugs a part of his bread free, popping it alone into his mouth and chewing with a frown. After a moment, he lets out a, "He's a decent guy."
Sam chuckles. "Hey, I'm not judging. I'm just curious how you guys are getting on. I'm worried about you, so seeing you making any connection is really good."
"You're worried?" Bucky looks up, catching the soft nod Sam gives. "I guess it's just… it's takin' a while to fully hit that there's actually good that I'm allowed to have."
Sam hums and nods. "That's true, though. You're allowed good things. And if those good things include a relationship of some kind with other people here in the Tower, that's more than allowed. That includes Stark."
Bucky looks down at his sandwich again. "It's strange," he murmurs. "I haven't known anyone to calm me down so easy as him before. We get to talking for a while and I just ease into existing next to him. It's like there's this… I don't know. He makes it comfortable to just be me."
"That's the important part," Sam offers. "Being you and feeling safe being you. If Tony helps with that, then you're on the right track. He seems to enjoy your company. He wouldn't keep inviting you to the lab if he didn't. I've been told he's very particular about his space."
Bucky furrows his brow and hums. Sam has a point. He knows he wouldn't keep hanging out around someone if he didn't care for them, and he certainly wouldn't invite them to a space that was dedicated solely to his personal projects. Yet, Tony has even invited Bucky into his private residence here at the Tower. That's got to count for something.
A soft smile pulls at his lips and he reaches out, picking up half his sandwich and taking a bite.
"Something on your mind?" Sam asks after a moment.
"Mm," Bucky hums. "Guess I ain't so bad at makin' friends after all,'' he adds, chuckling. He lets his mind wander to what Tony might be up to right now, and realizes he's had the guy on his mind so much lately, it's hard to think about much of anything else.
No wonder he's been mostly clear off nightmares, too. He's been so focused on Tony. Learning the other man's mannerisms, getting closer, getting to hear stories from his childhood.
"Shit, I think I got it," he mutters, shaking his head.
Sam looks up, raising an eyebrow. "Got what?"
Bucky looks up and smiles softly. "Same thing I thought I had with Stevie. Only stronger now. I think I got a thing for Stark."
Sam chuckles and leans back in his seat again. "Well, I wish you luck however you choose to pursue that, or if you do. I hear Tony can be a bit complicated when it comes to matters of the heart. According to his last ex, he's not very good at being there. And with everything that's just happened with Ultron, I honestly don't know if it's healthy to try being too close to him."
Bucky hums and shrugs. He's seen otherwise? Because Tony's been nothing but there. Actually, Tony's been sort of nonstop there and Bucky's been enjoying it. He wouldn't at all mind seeing if Tony wanted to try sharing that bed or couch one of these nights.
He does, however, recognize the way Tony's been withdrawing since Sokovia. Maybe he needs to give him a little space. Maybe Sam's right. So, when he finishes lunch with Sam, he goes to his apartment instead of down to the lab.
He's not sure what he plans on doing, but he figures a little time on his own will do Tony some good, anyway. The guy has been struggling and Bucky could stand to give him a little space, right? He's trying to justify it. He really is.
As he's trying to settle himself down to read something on his couch, he should be trying to pay attention to the world around him, but he's lost in his mind. He decides instead to pack a small bag for the next few nights in the penthouse while the construction continues outside his window.
He doesn't hear the footsteps through the work being done outside. There's a lot on his mind as he pulls a few shirts down and pushes them into his bag, so he doesn't realize what's going on until he's got a body pressed against his back, his cheek and chest shoved into the far wall, and his mind going almost instantly hazy to the murmur of Russian against his ear.
He tries to thrash, to pull away from it, but then there's a knife against his side, pressing tight against his skin, piercing just a little bit, and Bucky gags in pain as the code words trickle through the cracks in his mind and dig out that program he'd been trying so hard to avoid for such a long time now.
Bucky can feel himself fading out, disappearing. And before he has a chance to truly protest against the softly accented commands being uttered at his back, Bucky's gone. The apartment slips away and Bucky drops back into whatever storage compartment Hydra created to shove him into when they were trying to destroy him and replace him.
Expressionless and silent, the Winter Soldier stands in the middle of the bedroom of Bucky Barnes' apartment in the Avengers Tower, awaiting orders as the man known as Baron Zemo gives him a slow smirk.
"You and I have work to do, my friend," Zemo murmurs. "And our dear friends, the Avengers, have opened themselves up perfectly for some chaos."