Rebuilding US

Bucky desperately looked around trying to find a way out. To his left, Steve was slowly becoming conscious and to his right, the door was dented and the glass shattered. He could hear the bullets ricocheting and hitting the SUV.

“Steve, get up,” Bucky said, his voice quiet and horse, as he unsuccessfully attempted to use his right arm to nudge Steve. His vision was slowly blurring together, as tears and blood started to run down his face.

I need to escape. I can’t do this again . The cold German air picked up again and for a second, he could only see snow and trees. No, not here, he begged himself, snap out of it.

His plese to himself were futile as the forest started to engulf him, and the memories of pain started to shoot through his metal arm. The cold smell of the pine forest slowly overpowered the blood and gunpowder from the attack. He could no longer feel his left arm.

Then, a strange, yet familiar noise emerged. Usually, the voice was followed by horror, and hydra agents, but this time it wasn’t. Warmthness flooded Bucky, and slowly the car’s dashboard came back into view, the forest melting away and the warmth of the summer returned.

Looking around him, Bucky remembered where he was and he remembered his situation. Looking to his left, he realized Steve was slowly coming to, but not fast enough. He looked to the back of the car and grabbed the circular leather bag. He blinked the tears and blood out of his eyes, and quickly opened the zipper, slightly ripping the bag in the process. The shield was still in pristine conditions and forcefully shoved the edge under the dashboard, placed the gun he had stored in the side of the door under the shield, and started to slowly apply his weight on to the semi-functioning shield lever. The dashboard began to lift but not nearly enough for him to remove his hand. He felt tears swell up again, and he had to swallow them, before they’d make it impossible for him to see.

Damn it, I wish i could remove my arm he thought to himself. He made a mental note to ask T’Challa for a way to remove his arm.

Suddenly he felt the weight on his arm begin to lighten. Bucky looked up and he saw Steve smiling a small smile as he started to help lift up the dashboard. Bucky handed Steve the shield and looked into Steve’s beautiful, blue eyes. How could he look so beautiful? Bucky asked himself. After a second of staring he realized he was staring and quickly looked away.

“You good?” Steve asked, his voice soft and warm.

“I’m fine, thanks, punk. Now let’s kick some ass,” Bucky said smiling.

“Language,” Steve responded, chuckling, as if he had just told a joke. A joke Bucky didn't understand.

Steve kicked the door and rolled out of the car, holding the shield up to cover his entire body. Bucky followed suit, grabbing the gun as he rolled out. He could hear the bullets bouncing off of Steve's shield, and off his own arm, which he had brought over his head. Almost simultaneously, the two of them started shooting at their unknown attackers.

Two people approached the car wearing black masks with a red handprint on it and each held a gun which they were firing, with a worrying amount of accuracy. A little over the top, those masks Bucky thought to himself.

Bullets kept hitting Bucky's arm and Steve's shield each making a loud, and almost deafening, ricochet. Bucky felt a few bullets graze his cheek, adding more blood onto his already very bloody face. Bucky could hear Steve shooting his gun and there was a small opening, where everyone stopped shooting, creating an uneasy silence. The attackers had stopped firing their guns as they reloaded them, which gave Steve the chance to throw his shield at them. The shield bounced off the concrete, hit one of the shooters, bounced off a car behind the attackers and then hit the other person. Both of them fell to the ground but before Steve could get to them, they started to get up again. Steve brought his hands up, ready for a fist fight, which was going to be futile for the attackers. The two strangers also raised their hands, an undoubtedly stpuid move. What stupid person would take on Steve in a fist fight?. There was nothing impressive about these people. They looked like regular civilians. Well, regular, except for the fact that they have strange masks over their faces

Steve swung a straight punch at the taller man, who was about as tall as Steve, and hit him square in the face. The man stumbled back but immediately hit back, with the other man also joining in.

The hits were taking a significant toll on Steve, who fought back, but was slowly tiring. Bucky looked around him for something he could throw, and resorted to using a rock, which he aimed at the taller one’s head. The rock knocked him square in the forehead, finally knocking him out.

The shorter guy took a step back, and looked back and forth between Steve and Bucky. His hands slowly lowered to his belt, and he swiftly drew a small gun, which seemed to have only enough space for one or two bullets. He raised the gun towards Steve, who took a step forwards, most likely trying to convince the man to lower the gun. Then, in a flash of movement Bucky saw a flash leave the gun.

He jumped up and almost started to run to protect Steve, who was ten feet in front of him, a distance he most definitely couldn’t cross in time, but at least he could try.

Bucky felt a sharp pain shoot through his leg and he collapsed, due more to the shock than to the pain. He used his right arm to clutch the wound as blood started to pour down his leg. Steve looked at Bucky for a second, and during those few seconds the attacker started to head to the forest surrounding the highway. Bucky remembered the small bullet cartridge that he had hidden in his boots a few days ago.

Well technically it was a few years ago, wasn’t it Bucky thought to himself. A small pang of sadness went through his body. He had finally almost adjusted to the world, and again, years of his life were robbed.

Setting his thoughts aside, Bucky grabbed the cartridge and put them into his gun. Slowly he raised the gun, his hand twitching as he tried to aim at the attacker. He shot a few shots, only one of them making an impact. The person collapsed, and Bucky could see blood start to pool up, and the attacker quickly cut some of the cloth around the bullet hole. Bucky quickly realized that the hole wasn’t bleeding as much as it should have. They then continued running away.

Steve looked at the attacker and realized something, and quickly approached Bucky. Just as he turned his back to the taller attacker, they stood up and started running, following their accomplice.

Bucky then realized that for some reason, the people weren’t affected that much by the bullets. He wasn’t sure, but it seemed like they were bleeding less. Or maybe the splotches of blood were merging together. As the attacker ran, they started to blur and blend into the trees and even Steve, who was much closer, was starting to blur together.

He tried to focus on Steve but instead a wave of nausea overcame him. He put his hand to his face to try to recenter himself, but in the process, he realized that the blood hadn’t stopped. The hole was still in his leg. Strange

He looked back up, but the movement sent a wave of pain through his head, making him only vaguely aware of the object that was approaching him quickly through the air. It was progressively getting larger. Bucky squinted his eyes, as he tried to identify what it was, but then another shock of pain went through him, and he forgot there was anything coming at him.

Bucky tipped his head and rested it against the car as he heard echoing footsteps. Well, it was more like Steve ran at him and pulled up his shield, protecting him from the object. A deafening and painful noise was created by impact, causing Bucky’s ears to ring.

The cars around them, the speaking, the wind and everything else, made too much noise. His ears were in pain. He could hear a noise coming from above him as well. It all sounded like machines, and he couldn’t do anything. He wanted to get up, but his legs stopped responding.

Then, someone started to apply pressure to his wrists. Cuffs Bucky thought, fear shooting through him. He couldn’t do anything to get them off, and once on, there’d be nothing he could do but wait. A voice emerged, but instead of it being cold and harsh, like Bucky had expected, it was soft and warm. His heavy eyes fluttered open, and instead of white walls, he saw a figure standing in front of a blue background. The figure stood up and extended something towards Bucky. He tried to grab it but he missed. The person bent back down, but they were starting to blur into the sky.

“Oh my god! Bucky are you ok?” a voice gasped, the words echoing in Bucky’s mind. The words overlapped each other, and they continued ringing, long after the person stopped talking. The figure was kneeling next to him, and then Bucky felt something wrap around his thigh.

Bucky tried to piece together what was happening. The voice, who was that. Why- Steve! It was Steve talking. Bucky thought back to the noise and he realized what Steve had asked him. He took a deep breath and responded, “Of course not, punk. I kinda got shot in the leg,” his voice trembling. Of course he hadn’t meant for his voice to shake but he hadn’t meant for a lot of things to happen and yet they did. He attempted to stand up again but needles shot through his leg. Steve put Bucky’s arm around his shoulders and lifted him up, pulling something out of his back pocket.

“Hello… we’re on highway 51… my friend and I were shot at… he’s bleeding badly… yup… did that… got it, thanks,” Steve said. Though the words echoed and hurt to listen to, it was Steve’s voice.

Even through the pain, Bucky was soothed by his voice. Even with the urgency in his voice, Bucky felt safe.

Steve slowly brought Bucky back to the ground and stood back up. “The ambulance will be here soon. They said to have you not move much.”

“Well I wasn’t really planning on going anywhere,” Bucky said smiling, but immediately regretted it, as he felt fire engulf his head, infecting even the back of his eyes. He shut his eyes harshly.

Steve’s hand slipped onto Bucky’s cheek, slowly caressing it, calming him.

Didn’t I used to do this for Steve? Bucky asking himself as a small memory of Brookly nights, returned to him.

Steve’s hands slowly made him tired, and he started to rest his head against Steve’s hand, his eyes quickly fluttering closed.

A familiar smell of old wood and the sound of cars started to flood in. Sun started to beam down on his face, and he felt like he was floating on clouds. The smell was familiar. It was old, it was kind, and it was reassuring.

Brooklyn. It was Brooklyn. His home. The only place where he truly felt safe, with Steve. Where his father couldn’t get to him and long before everything. Long before Hydra and Thanos. Long before the blood and bullets.

Sadness rushed through him again. That’s all his life was, wasn’t it? Blood and bullets, where everything leads up to a fight. He never wanted to fight for any side, for anyone, and yet, he had ended up fighting for everyone and for every side.

His sadness was cut off when Steve’s phone started to ring. “Hello?” Steve asked, his hand slipping from Bucky’s face, “... ya we’re ok… well ya, Bucky’s shot... How’da know something happened?... I guess that makes sense.” Steve looked up at the cloud. Or the sky. Or something. Bucky could hear something above them hovering, but he didn’t have the energy to look up. The sun already was out to get his eyes, and he wasn’t about to voluntarily blind himself by looking up into the blank, blue sky.

Bucky looked up at Steve and quietly asked, “What happened?” his voice wobbled with exhaustion.

Steve looked worriedly down at Bucky and quietly said“Um… Clint was calling to ask if we were ok. I didn’t really want to worry him.” Then he looked at Bucky’s bloody leg, “How’s it feeling? Is it healing?”

“Not well,” Bucky responded, nausea over taking him again. His mouth tasted vile but he didn’t even have the energy to do anything about it. Steve looked down at him, but his face was also blurry.

Everything was becoming blurry. The whole world started spinning, and it wouldn’t stop. He wanted everything to stop spinning. He forcefully slammed his hand down, trying to grab at something and stop it from spinning. Instead, the pain caused the world to not only spin more, but become more dim.

In front of him, he heard an echo but he didn’t know what caused it. Maybe Steve was talking, or maybe it was the sky yelling at him, or maybe the metallic monsters behind them that were screeching. It was something. Maybe it was everything. Everything had always hated him.

Then an oddly comforting weight was placed on his shoulder and on his head. His cheek was being caressed and he loved it. Bucky could only feel Steve’s warm hand again as he slowly drifted away, his breath ragged and slow. His head tilted into Steve’s hand and fell unconscious.

The quiet song of birds filled the silence of the morning. Of course the sounds of cars and people were there, it always was, but it was ignorable. The only noise in the room were the birds and Steve quiet, and ragged breathing. Bucky’s eyes slowly fluttered open, his warm body wrapped around Steve’s small figure. He could see part of Steve’s face, his eyes gently closed and his face peaceful. His lips a beautiful light shade of red.

Bucky pictured his own lips around them, holding Steve. Sharing a bed, but more so then they were now. They were closer than ever. He pictured Steve kissing him, holding tightly onto his hair, desire in his eyes. If only-

A monotone, mechanical beep intruded into his thoughts. Thoughts that he shouldn’t be having, but nonetheless was. Now they were gone. All that was left were the beeping machines. The beeping. A mechanical beep like that of Hydra.

It can’t be them, they’re gone. I’m safe Bucky said to himself, but he didn’t believe it. He wanted to open his eyes, but they felt sealed shut by nothing and no one but himself. He always seemed to be the only thing that stopped him from doing things. He tried to move his left arm but he felt nothing. The weight of the heavy metallic arm was gone. His arm wasn’t there. Why wasn’t his arm there? The only time his arm was there was when-

The tests . Were they going to test on him? Was he going to lay on the ground helpless again, being nothing and no one, being only a thing to be messed with and controlled.

Please, he begged, I don’t want to do this again.

His breathing became faster and so did the beeping. Was the beeping trying to be faster than his breath? What was the beeping? An alarm? It had to be an alarm, and now they knew he was awake. I have to get out of here, screamed Bucky’s mind. He forced his eyes open and pushed his legs off the bed. A bed? Maybe he was at a nicer facility than last time?

Or maybe it was a worse one. They were going to do more. Force him to kill more people?

Please, I don’t want to kill anyone anymore

No, I’m not here, Bucky thought to himself. Hydra’s gone. I’m not there.

He looked around him but the noise of the beeping and the alarms that started ringing, his vision blurring. The walls were white and the room was small and it kept getting smaller. Flashing lights confused him and the noise started to take over all of his senses. He tried looking around but he could only see the alarm. Everything was noise. Everything was an alarm.

He pushed himself off the bed but he was overcome with pain when he placed his left leg on the ground. It felt like thousands of needles were forced into his legs. Not the type of injecting needles, but more like the type of needles that came from the inside out.

The blaring alarms and beeping became louder and the pounding of footsteps joined in. He collapsed to the ground and his eyes started burning. He couldn’t focus on anything as he stumbled around trying to find anything. Everything became one, and-

“Bucky!” A familiar voice yelled. It rang in Bucky’s ears but it was better than everything else. There were only two things in the world at that moment. Steve and everything. Everything was his enemy while Steve was his hero. His anchor in a world of waves and storms. He became grounding to reality as he felt two large, warm and familiar hands, on his shoulders. He looked up from the ground and in front of him was Steve, his face covered in worry. The white walls behind him had expanded again and the alarms had been turned off.

“Steve?” Bucky asked quietly, his voice cracking as he tried to hold back his tears. He felt himself become engulfed in warmth. He felt his hand grip a soft fabric, Steve’s sweater. His grip tightened and he felt warm tears start running down his face.

“I’m here Buck, don’t worry. I’m here,” Steve whispered into Bucky’s ear softly. He felt his hair getting brushed by Steve, as he was pulled closer into Steve’s chest. The warmth coming from his chest, and the rhythmic breathing helped calm Bucky down enough for him to say more than just Steve.

“Where are we?” Bucky asked, his voice cracking again which made him feel vulnerable and weak. He decided to tilt his head into Steve’s chest, resting his head against his shoulder as he started to cry.

Steve continued to caress Bucky’s shoulder length hair as he quietly said, “We’re in a hospital and you’re safe. Are you feeling better?” Bucky didn’t think he could respond without a massive sob escaping, so he decided to just nod. After what felt like forever a pair of soft footsteps approached from behind Steve, a door softly shutting from behind the two of them.

A soft, male voice spoke up, “So, how’s he feeling?” Steve continued brushing his hands through Bucky’s hair.

“I think he’s ok. I think he may just need some time.”

Bucky took a deep breath and responded, “I-I think I'm fine. Sorry for freaking.” He kept his face buried in Steve’s shoulder. He liked Steve’s warm breath and his repetitive, soothing and predictable breathing.

“Come on, let’s get him onto the bed” said the voice, who Bucky recognized as Clint, the arrow man that fought alongside him years ago.

The fight that took place years ago, where he’d fought alongside so many people. Then a pang rippled through his body as he remembered Sam. “Where’s Sam?”

Steve opened his mouth to respond but Clint interrupted him, “We’re not sure, but that also isn’t your job right now. You and Steve are going to stay out of the field at least for the following week.”

“But-” Bucky started, but he didn’t know what he was going to say. He wanted to argue, but what could he say? If it weren’t for Steve, he would be dead.

After what seemed like an eternity, Steve’s comforting voice spoke up. “Let’s actually get you on the bed this time. Some doctors will be coming soon.” He stopped caressing Bucky’s hair and stood up, looking at the small window on the hospital door. “I think they may be a little weary.”

“Of course they are,” mumbled Bucky as Steve extended his arm.

“Possibly,” Clint responded, crossing his arms across his chest, “I want you, Bucky, to get some rest. Steve, you may stay here but if the doctors ask you to leave, please do.”

“Got it,” Steve answered as Bucky grabbed his hand and pulled himself up.

Bucky walked over to the hospital bed and sat on it. Steve followed him and sat at the edge of the bed.

“Also, where’s my arm?” He was off balance without his heavy metal arm. It felt weird no longer having it on him. He often forgot it wasn’t his real arm.

Clint and Steve looked at each other and this time it was Steve that responded, “Well, we were kinda worried you’d… you’d react the way you did,” his voice trailing off at the end.

Of course. He knew I’d freak. I’m a fucking mess and the only good I am is causing other’s trouble. He felt his grip tighten around the edges of the thin mattress. He remembered something one of his first handlers, the person that had turned him into the winter soldier, had said to him. How long until Captain America gives up on you? How long do you think he’ll look for you?

He felt Steve place his hand on his own, and started gently caressing it. How long would it be before Steve gives up on him? His eyes started to sting and he could feel the tears falling down his face. Steve gently whipped Bucky’s tears, the warmth from his hand causing a small smile to emerge from Bucky’s face.

He hadn’t realized the room had become completely silent except for the beeping of the machines until Clint awkwardly said, “I- I’ll give the two of you some time to talk.”

Steve nodded and watched as Clint closed the door behind him as he left. “Are you ok, Buck?” His voice was so smooth, so reassuring, and so kind. Bucky just wanted Steve to talk to him all day and night and to sleep.

But do I deserve it? Bucky asked himself. All I’ve done my entire life is kill. I’ve taken countless lives. All Steve’s ever done is save others.

“Bucky?” Steve asked, leaning closer to Bucky, hesitantly grabbing his hand and giving it a small squeeze. “Please, talk to me”.

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Please don’t shut down on me again, Steve desperately thought to himself. It was disheartening knowing that his best friend, for years, was a different person. It wasn’t his fault, and Steve would never blame him, but he also wished Bucky would get more help.

“I- I don’t know Steve,” Bucky said after a minute, his hand tightening around Steve’s, “I’m afraid. When-”. His voice trailed off, as if he was afraid of finishing.

Steve understood. He shifted himself so that he was no longer at the edge of the bed and was instead sitting next to Bucky, their hands holding tightly. He looked ahead at the white walls, and quietly said, “I get it. It’s sometimes hard to open up.” He could feel Bucky’s gaze shift from looking at the wall to his face. “Sometimes it’s not just admitting your problems and concerns to the other person, but admitting them to yourself.

“When I was under the ice I couldn’t feel anything but the cold. After I woke up, I couldn’t stand the cold for years. I still don’t do well, but once I started talking to others, I got better. A cold breeze no longer takes me out of where I am.

“Please, Bucky. It doesn’t have to be me. It can be anyone you trust, but please talk.” Steve could hear his voice crack, and he was at the verge of tears but he continued. Bucky would have done it for him, so he’d do it for Bucky. “Honestly, I don’t know how much you remember from before the war. You were so kind, and you still are. You cared about me, and I don’t think I ever truly told you how much I appreciated it. When I had no one else, I knew you’d be there,” the tears finally started to trail down his face, and Bucky’s grip had tightened even more, a silent acknowledgment. “Please talk to someone. You don’t deserve any of this.” He started to sniffle, and he closed his eyes tightly.

“Steve-”

“I’m sorry Bucky,” Steve said, using his free hand to wipe his face, “I shouldn’t be crying. If you don’t want to tell me, I get it.”

“It’s just that when I woke up here, I couldn’t stop thinking of Hydra. When I first woke up in the Hydra compound, my arm… it was missing. I didn’t have it. I-I was so scared,” Bucky said, this time tears forming in his eyes. He leaned into Steve, tightly gripping Steve’s jacket as he continued. “I didn’t think losing my arm would change me so much, but I felt so vulnerable. I was so afraid… Hydra, they- they did things to me, and it changed me. I’m such a different person. I’ve done so many heinous things, and yet- yet here you are. Why?” His voice cracking as he finished.

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky, allowing him to rest his head on his chest. “Because, Bucky, you’re worth it. You’re everything I wish I was. You’re so strong, smart, charismatic, everything I could only dream of being. Bucky, I’m here because of you, and the person you are.”

A sob escaped Bucky. “How can you say that? You’re Captain fucking America. I’m just a coward, who allowed himself to become a puppet for Hydra. All I am is the Winter Soldier, a monster. A nobody.”

“None of that is true. You’re not the Winter Soldier. You’re James Barnes. You’re you. And before I became Captain America, you were the only one who ever had my back.”

He could feel Bucky’s breathing become raggeded so he let go of the hug, and instead placed his hand on his lap, an invitation for Bucky to hold it. Bucky let go of Steve’s jacket, and his hand instead found its way back to Steve’s. Their fingers intertwined tightly, Bucky's hand warm against Steve's.

A soft knock came from the door and their little moment disappeared. They quickly let go of each other's hands, and Bucky buried his face in his hands to cover his crying face. "Come in," Steve said.

A nurse walked in holding a chart. He looked at the two, but mostly at Bucky, with caution and worry. He slowly and hesitantly approached the two of them holding a chart. "Um… sorry, I need Mr. Barnes to lay down, and then we'll be drawing some blood."

Steve looked over at Bucky but Bucky was still burying his hands in his face.

"Mr. Barnes, I just need you to lay down for an hour, and don’t eat until I return."

Bucky removed his hands and shifted himself onto the bed so that he was facing the ceiling and quietly mumbled, “Sure.”

Steve looked away from the doctor and caught Bucky’s eyes. He mouthed the words, “You good?” Bucky nodded his head but his eyes were hollow.

God, how much I miss his old self. I just wish he was who he used to be. Or someone knew. I don’t care, just please, you can be more, I know you can. Steve pleaded.

Steve heard the doctor close the door while Bucky watched it close and then Steve felt Bucky’s warm hand slip into his. “Steve, could you turn on the news?”

“Uh… I think the only thing playing right now is our fight.”

“I know, that’s why I want to watch.”

Steve hesitated for a moment but then got off the bed to turn on the television in front of them and grabbed the controller off of one of the counters in the room. He tossed the controller next to Bucky and sat beside him again, gently grabbing Bucky’s hand.

A small chuckle arose from Bucky and Steve turned to him, “What? What happened?”

“You punk, I can’t grab the controller while you hold my hand.”

Steve could feel his face becoming hot and red as he quickly let go of Bucky’s hand, “Sorry.”

Bucky chuckled to himself, “You can be so cute, you know that?”

Steve felt his heart skip at Bucky’s remark and opened his mouth to respond, but he couldn’t and instead decided to return the smile. Bucky was looking at Steve as if he was going to ask why he was reacting the way he was, but then realization dawned on Bucky and his face started to become red, “I didn’t mean to say that outloud.”

They looked into each other's eyes for a minute. Steve loved admiring Bucky’s hazelnut brown eyes, which had started to gain some life.

“How about we watch the news, now” Bucky said, his voice filled with life.

“Why do you want to watch it? Why not just... you know. Just cherish now?” Steve said, his voice worried. He didn’t want to ruin all of the happiness that Bucky was experiencing.

“I can see you’re worried,” Bucky said, momentarily grabbing Steve’s hand to squeeze it, “I’ll be fine. We need to know who attacked us”

Steve sighed and nodded his head in acknowledgement, "Ok, but you heard Clint. We're out if the field for-"

"Fuck that. Sam's in danger and we were just attacked. You aren't actually going to just sit down."

Bucky's voice radiated confidence and he was undoubtedly determined. Steve knew better than anyone that Bucky wasn't going to give up. Steve looked down at the bed and then back up at Bucky, who had propped himself against the metal bed frame. "Ok fine," he whispered, "but nothing too dangerous. You've seen first hand what they were able to do."

A smile emerged from Bucky's mouth and he nodded. He proceeded to turn in the TV, which to no one's surprise, was airing their fight. Steve could see Bucky helplessly laying against the SUV as their attackers threw an entire car at them.

"They threw a car?!" Bucky exclaimed.

"Ya, they did- Wait, didn't you see them throw it?"

"No. I could really see anything."

Steve froze and looked at Bucky, "you couldn't see? I assumed that they had- they had- I'm not really sure what I thought they'd done, but definitely not that!"

Bucky grabbed Steve's hand again and soothingly said, "It's fine. I'm better. I can see again."

Steve let go of Bucky's hand and shifted himself so that his entire body was facing Bucky, "That shouldn't really be something to celebrate. You should be able to see all the time. Tell me what you saw! Or didn’t see."

“Steve-”

“Bucky please, I’m worried.”

“I- I couldn’t really see anything. It all blurred together. I didn’t even realize that there were helicopters.” Bucky said, looking back up at the TV, which was now broadcasting the fight in the top corner of the screen, and now in the center, were two well dressed newscasters.

Then the news broadcaster spoke up, "Look at that. Captain America could have caught those criminals if it hadn't been for his friend. Look at that," the tv showed footage of Bucky hazily looking at the incoming car, "he didn't even try to react. How do we know that all three of them were in cahoots with one another? After all, wasn’t that guy with the metal arm wanted for murder a few years ago?”

The other newscaster looked at the man like he was crazy, “Wha- wait, do you mean- oh. OH! Ya I think that is him!”

Bucky gripped Steve’s hand harder.

"Also look at this," the broadcaster continued, her voice progressively becoming angrier, as she brought up more footage showing Steve holding Bucky's face as he had tried to wake him up. "Look at how Captain America is holding his 'friend's' head," making air quotes as she said friend, "How can we trust that Captain America is on our side when he's treating a Russian soldier like that. So gay and sof-"

Steve angrily grabbed the controller and turned the TV off, "What the hell." Steve said, his voice seething with anger. He had worried about upsetting Bucky, that he'd forgotten that he was also there.

“Steve?” Bucky asked, soothingly.

“I’m fine,” Steve snapped back. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Bucky flinch, “Bucky, I’m sorry.”

Bucky placed his hand on Steve’s shoulder and asked, “Are- are you good?”

Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand and held on, “I don’t know…”

What the hell would Bucky say if I’m gay? Steve asked himself, Can I even be gay? I used to love Peggy. Then realization dawned him, Do I love Bucky….?

“Steve? You good?" Bucky asked.

Steve stayed deep in thought, Everything I’ve done for him, was it because I loved him? Steve thought back to every thing he had done in his life. In Brookly, he’d always be sick and the only person who’d ever been there was Bucky. When he enlisted in the army, his first act as the true Captain America, was saving Bucky. When he crashed the airplane, he had imagined meeting Bucky in heaven and when Bucky nearly killed him as the winter soldier, he couldn’t bring himself to even hit Bucky.

When he pictured his perfect life… it was Bucky. Bucky was the one he’d imagine he’d grow old with. He’d always thought that those Brooklyn nights would last forever. They’d lie together during cold nights, and during the torturous summer days, they’d get ice cream together.

“Bucky,” Steve said quietly, letting go of Bucky’s hand, and folding his together he continued, “I-”. Steve trailed off. How could he tell Bucky how he felt? He tilted his head into his hands.

“Ya?” Bucky urged, gently placing his hand on Steve’s back.

No, not now. Maybe later. Not hereSteve gave a small, and awkward chuckle, “I- I want you to be careful. I’ve lost so many people already.” I guess there’s always tomorrow. Today has been hectic.