Rebuilding US

Steve’s reaction was weird, Bucky thought to himself, He got so defensive. Or was it more anger that they would suggest that he’s gay? He looked up at Steve as his hand rested on his back, and saw Steve stare at the wall.

“Steve?” Bucky asked softly.

He turned to face Bucky, his eyes still lost in thought, “Ya?”

Bucky started to rub Steve’s back and quietly asked, “Are you good?”

Steve’s breathing started to slow down, “I- I don’t know. I think I just need some time to think.”

“To think…? ‘Bout what?”

After a second of thinking Steve said, “About things… about me.”

Steve stood up and walked towards the door, “I’ll bring you some lunch for after the blood.”

Bucky watched as Steve left, the door softly closing behind him. Damn it, I’m so stupid. Things were doing so well with him. Bucky thought back to what he had done. While they were watching TV he hadn’t done anything, had he?

After a few minutes of thinking the doctor entered, putting a needle into Bucky’s arm. He braced himself as the needle went, and he slowly took breath, trying not to think about Hydra.
“Mr. Barnes?” The doctor asked, frightened.

“I’m fine, just get it done with”

The doctor nodded wearily and continued the procedure, finishing quickly. He stepped away from the bed and wrote something down on a clipboard. “Your lab results will come back in a day. We’ll send it to… who are we sending this to?”

“Um… Steve? I don’t know, didn’t Clint tell you?”

“Uh, I guess I’ll talk to someone about it. Thank you for your patience and have a good day Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky opened the hospital door feeling much better than he had earlier that day. The sun had crossed the sky, the beautiful shades of blue covering the cloudless sky. A black SUV approached him, Steve driving it. The car pulled up in front of him, the window down revealing a smiling Steve, “Get in Buck, got you some lunch!”

Bucky smiled and got into the shotgun seat, grabbing the warm white styrofoam container in the back seats. Inside were two burgers.

“So, how did it go?” Steve asked.

“It was fine,” he said, taking a bite into the burger. “The drive was long, I’m guessing.”

Steve sighed as he started the car, driving out of the hospital lot. “Nothing Buck, I just had to think.”

“I know that much, punk,” Bucky joked, but Steve just looked forward, the joke flying miles over his head. He placed his hand on Steve’s shoulder and said, “Whatever it is, like you said, find someone to tell. Please.”

“I will… eventually. I just need to sort through things first.”

“If you ever need help, I’m here.”

“I know you are Buck, and I’m so grateful for that.”

After about an hour the car pulled up to a nice park beside a bridge. Brooklyn Bridge Park . It had been years since Bucky had been there. He didn’t know why he had come, but he remembers it being nice and tranquil.

Those benches, I used to sit there after work. Bucky thought to himself. What work? He didn’t know.

As Steve parked the car and got out their surroundings were no longer tranquil. People started to stare, mainly at Steve, but a few did look at Bucky. It made him uncomfortable and unsafe. How many prying eyes were just curious, and how many had alternate motives?

“Steve,” Bucky said warily, “What are we doing here?”

“I wanted to take a walk and talk to you but,” Steve said, looking around them, “It doesn’t look like it'll be a quiet one.”

Bucky looked around the area, his eye catching the strangers, some who tried to act like they weren’t staring. He could feel his hand clench and his shoulders tighten
Steve placed his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “I know, I’m sorry, we can leave if you want to.”

I know this place Bucky thought to himself. He needed to know more. These were just regular people in a regular city. Plus, Steve's here

"It's fine. I want to walk around," Bucky said, his voice tense but determined.

After a few minutes of driving Bucky realized that he no longer knew where they were. Trees started to cover the sky, blocking the sun from the road.

“Steve, where are we going?” Bucky asked, intrigued.

“I just wanted to show you somewhere.”

Silence filled the void between the two of them, an unnatural and uncomfortable silence filled with nothing but unanswered questions.

Steve then took a breath and asked, “Do you ever miss the past? Like before the war even started. Before either of us were Super Soldiers.”

The question caught Bucky off guard, who had to think for a minute before answering. “I- I don’t think so. Sure things were simpler before but things are so much better now.” Bucky said. People are so much more accepting of people like me.

“Buck…” Steve said slowly, choosing his words carefully, “What do you mean ‘like you’?”

“What do you mean-” He froze when he realized what he said, his face going pale with realization. Shit, shit, shit, shit Bucky thought. What the hell am I going to say to Steve? Am I really gonna tell him….? What would he say?

“Nothing,” Bucky answered. Shit

Steve said nothing, but every so often he’d look at Bucky, very obviously wanting to say something, but never being able to.

Bucky rested his head against the window, trying to ignore the uncomfortable silence.

***

The smell of gasoline and smoke filled the air as the night grew closer. The sunlight broke through the window, casting beautiful shades of orange on the old wooden floor. Bucky opened the old door, whose paint was chipping off, gently pushing it, the hinges quietly creaking. He could smell the smoky air of Brooklyn and the odor of the fish coming off his shirt, all of it mixing together to create a terrible stench which threatened to make him puke. Then, from the bedroom, Steve emerged, his small figure made only smaller with the oversized shirt that he was wearing.

“Is that my shirt, punk?” Bucky chuckled.

“Shut up,” Steve said, his face turning red, “I didn’t expect you to come so early.” He looked so cute in that shirt.

Bucky walked up to Steve and rubbed his hair, “It’s not that early, it’s about to be night.”

“I know, but still,” Steve said, trying to pat down his ruffled hair. He was smiling, his teeth slightly uneven, and yet, it was so beautiful. Bucky loved his smile, and his eyes, with the most beautiful shades of blue that the world could ever produce. There was nothing more beautiful in the whole world and there never would be.

“Want to give me my shirt back?” Bucky teased. He was already heading to the fridge, grabbing some food to prepare them a meal.

“Ha! Ya right. You can get it back in the morning.”

Bucky softly chuckled, “Come on punk!” He looked to the couch, seeing a small sketch pad laying on the couch next to the window sill. He walked over and picked it up, holding it up for Steve to grab. “Want to draw a bit? We’ve got some time before the food is done heating up.”

Steve smiled and took the booklet from Bucky’s hand and said, “Ya sure. How’s your book going? Are you still reading the same book?”

“Come on Steve, of course I am. It’s a long ass book and I work all day."

Steve laughed the most beautiful laugh in the world.

Bucky grabbed the book and sat on the window sill, looking at the setting sun through the old Brooklyn buildings. Steve sat down across from him, drawing the curtains, so that pedestrians wouldn’t be able to see him through the window. Just a little extra precaution the two of them took ever since one of their neighbors had mistook them as a couple. That fiasco almost ended with both of them dead.
But as Bucky sat by the window, looking at Steve instead of reading, memories of his feelings came back. The desire to hold Steve, not just to protect him, but also to be with him. The setting sun did wonders to Steve's small face. The blue in his eyes was accentuated by the lovely shades of orange. How much he wished to hold Steve, hold his hands, and to hold him close. He wanted Steve to be so close to him, and he didn’t know how close he’d need Steve.

Then realization dawned on him. The memories of his desires returned. He wanted to be more than just a friend. He wanted to share his life with Steve and to-

Bucky cut himself off. No. No, I can’t think that. It’s wrong, he just sees me as a friend. Then a few seconds later, after a bit of thinking he allowed himself to delve into what he truly wanted. He’d worked all day and he wanted to enjoy something. Even if it wasn’t true or real, at least he could try to enjoy something. It can’t hurt. He may never love me the way I do, but I can still let myself think about what could be, maybe if things had been different. If things were different now.

He let the memories flood back to him. The car horns outside, the reek of gasoline seeping through the old window, and Steve. He was sitting in front of Bucky, sketching in the book.
Bucky imagined Steve putting down the book. He slowly leaned over Bucky, straddling his legs around Bucky and kissing him. Bucky imagined Steve’s hands gripping onto his hair, pushing their faces together.

“Bucky?” Steve asked quietly, putting his hand on Bucky’s shoulder as he brought the car to a stop.

Bucky jolted and his eyes shot open, as he looked at Steve, a mere silhouette against the beautiful setting sun behind him. He looked around him, admiring the trees around them. It was comforting the solitude it offered them. In front of them, New York City stood, tiny against the sun, an outline against the explosion of oranges behind them.

“Where are we?” Bucky asked. He tried to push back the past but the sun was the same sun as that day. And it was the same Steve.

“Oh, this place? It’s just somewhere that I liked to come after the snap. I’ve never seen anyone else here. It’s on a private trail owned by…. Pepper, now I guess.” His voice saddening in the end. “Anyway, Bucky, are you ok? You haven’t said much.”

“I was just… thinking, like you said. It’s just that… I don’t know. I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“I get it. You know what helps me open up. Being outside. It feels so unnatural being in here.”

“Ya, it does,” Bucky responded as he pushed the door open, the breeze cool against his warm skin.

The two of them walked over to the ledge that overlooked the city, that for where they stood, looked insignificant. The only distinguishable parts were the buildings, and even then, they were blurred together.

They sat next to each other, Bucky laying down to see the night enter the sky. The shades of orange were merging with the cool purple hues of space.
“So,” Steve said, breaking the silence between the two. He was sitting directly next to Bucky, their shoulders nearly touching. “What’s going on?”

The question lingered, ringing in his ears. What was going on?

Everything was going on. Too much was going on.

Sam was missing and yet Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about the past. A relationship he wished he could have had. A life that he wanted.

But his past was robbed. Robbed by the war. Robbed by the American government that drafted him and Hydra which kidnapped him. Fight and killing for both sides of a fight that he never wanted to be in.

Would it really be so bad if Steve found out? The weight of the secret he’d been holding on for so many years, all of it could be off his shoulder today. Right now. All he had to do was talk.