Chapter 8
Steve looked down at the address on the slip of paper in his hand. The address that he hoped led to Bucky.
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It had been six months since he'd left, and only a week ago had they found anything that led to him. Steve had waited a couple of days after Bucky left to start looking, thinking that maybe he'd just come back. But apparently not. That third day, he asked everyone in the Tower if they could help. After Washington, he had thought he could find Bucky himself, but he realised now that he couldn't.
'He’s got a phone, right?’ Tony asked. After Steve nodded, he added, 'Give me his number, I can try to track his phone.’ As it started ringing, Tony immediately set to work, trying to pinpoint where it was being received. 'Um, you expect him to be a fair distance away right? This is saying he's in Brooklyn.'
Steve's eyes widened. He went to look at the screen showing the location, and frowned. 'That's saying he's in my building!' He grinned. 'He's back! But I thought he left his keys?'
'He, er, I guess he probably left his phone behind. Sorry for getting your hopes up.' There was silence for a minute, everyone trying to think of something they could do.
'Why don't we go the other way around this? Instead of trying to figure out where he is, figure out where he isn't?' Natasha asked, breaking the silence. 'Like, he'd want to be somewhere he could understand the people right?'
'Yeah, but who knows what languages Hydra taught him?'
'Hydra only made everyone learn European languages, so I doubt he'll be in Asia. But I can't eliminate anywhere else.' She said bluntly. 'Is there anything you know Steve?'
'He doesn't really like the heat I guess? But that still leaves all of Europe and a bunch of other places.'
'Um, he couldn't be settled down yet right? So couldn't we just search for him with his passport?' Steve looked at Clint like he was a genius, just about to say so, when Natasha interrupted.
'Good idea, but you realise he's probably using a fake right? There is no way he'd use his own name.' She paused. 'But, if he's going anywhere far, he would still be traveling. How about we tell airports, train stations, the sort, to be looking for a guy who fits his description?'
'A full blown international search? I don't know if that'd turn out too well,' he paused. 'But give it a try. Anything that means I might find him.'
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'Salut! Vorbiți engleză?'
'A little,' the man replied with a slight wince, not quite sure he would know enough.
'Thanks, this trip is last minute so I didn't get the time to learn much of the language. Has anyone moved in here recently?’
The man nodded frantically, worried. He had thought the new guy was trouble, and here was someone who looked an awful lot like Captain America looking for him. ‘6th floor, on your… right,’ he said in broken English. 'He does not talk to anyone.’
'Thanks.’ He was surprised to see a smile appear on Steve's face.
The apartment was almost empty. A small sofa and the bed took up most of the space, and at first glance seemed to be the only things there. Looking around, Steve could understand why the man he'd met had seemed so worried about Bucky, as the apartment didn't look like the place of a rule abiding citizen. He moved into the kitchen, spotted a notebook, and picked it up. There were pages of notes about what had happened since the war, and then, at the back, a few phone numbers. He saw his and smiled, glad to know that maybe Bucky would have came back on his own. But he also wished he hadn't seen it, because then he could have pretended that Bucky couldn't find his number, rather than choosing to talk to Clint over him.
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'Hey, Cap, you might wanna see this,' Clint called out across the room. He hesitated a moment - would it just be another prank - before heading over. Clint nodded towards his phone, and he looked down, confused. Hi, it's been a while, but I need someone to talk to, dying of solitude over here. I'm not ready to come back though.
'Who's it from?'
'Bucky I think. At least, there's no one else it could be. Dunno why he texted me though.' He watched Steve's face flash from hope to happiness to... was that jealousy? But it was gone in a moment, he regained his composure and told him to talk to Bucky for him. 'You're the only friend he has that isn't involved in what happened. Except Sam, if you can call them friends. It'll take time for everything to get back to how it was, but this is a start.' Steve tried not to let thoughts show on his face, wanting to seem calm, but inside his head was a mess, a dozen emotions running wild.
'I'll try. But it might take a while. Not the sort of thing you can just come back and pretend didn't happen.' He saw the look of protest he was being given, 'I know you're not going to pretend it didn't happen Steve, but I don't think Bucky got that memo.'
'Steve?' He was so used to being Captain America to most in the Tower that hearing his name surprised him.
'You're gonna make me regret that, aren't you? One second of being nice, trying to be a friend instead of just that random guy you work with, and it's gonna haunt me forever.' Steve's eyebrows rose, and Clint wished he could take back what he had just said.
'Trying to be a friend now? You're lucky I need us on good terms, otherwise yeah, you'd regret that.' He looked over Clint's shoulder. 'I'm also very lucky that it looks like Tony heard, I would not have survived not being able to give you hell. So now at least he can instead.'
'Force him not to mention it or else I'm not replying to this,' he said waving his phone. 'I've got all the power you realise? You're effectively my slave until this is done.'
'But Clint,' he said, mocking hurt, 'I'm your friend! You don't do that to friends!' He shrunk under his glare. He certainly seemed serious. 'Sorry, will do.'
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He turned at the sound of Bucky's voice. 'Steve?'
'Sorry to barge in on you like this, but, well, it's been six months, and-' He had planned what he would say earlier, had been thinking about it just before, but now that he was actually talking to Bucky, he just couldn't remember what he had been meaning to say.
'I know it's been a while, and you never were the most patient person, but I'm sorry, I'm not ready to come back. I'm not ready to talk about it. Sometimes starting over is the best thing to do, and I think for me, it's the way to go.'
'All it would take is one burst of courage, and then everything would be fine, you'd come back and we could pretend this didn't happen.' He was talking to himself, reminding himself how easy it should be to forget the six months had passed, that if he just told Bucky, then surely he'd come back in an instant, but Bucky heard, and misunderstood.
'I'm sorry Stevie, but I can't just forget that night never happened. And now that you know, it'll be so much harder to be so close constantly without thinking about how I feel. Before, at least you had no clue so I could pretend there was nothing there, but now I can't. I wish I could come back, but I can't. Not knowing you don't feel the same.' There were tears in his eyes, and he didn't think he could handle much more. Seeing Steve open his mouth to say something, he quickly added, 'Don't try to fight me on this, there's no point. Maybe I'll come back someday, maybe I won't. But I guess this is goodbye. I wish it wasn't, but it is. I wish that I didn't have to do what I did. I wish that I had at least done something less bold, something easier to recover from. I wish...' he rambled on, holding the door open for Steve to leave. He was trying to make sure that he had something to do to distract him from the tears that were falling from his eyes, from the tears that were drawing lines down Steve's face. He was trying to stop Steve from having a chance to speak, a chance to say something that would make him hesitate, a chance to make him close the door, making it all a billion times harder. Steve starting walking towards him, no, towards the door - he couldn't let himself think about anything else, Steve, door, Steve, door - and he finished talking just before he passed. 'If only you felt the same.'
Steve paused as he heard this, and turned to face him. 'But Bucky, I do.' And Steve was kissing him, fiercely at first, but it soon became gentle. He could taste the salty tears that had stopped flowing, and both just wanting it to last forever, catching up on all the years they hadn't had the chance. When they eventually parted, hand in hand, Steve asked, 'You consider coming back now?'
'I'm about to start packing.'