Chapter 14
“I lost my arm to an IED. It killed my unit.” Steve looked at Bucky, shocked. Bucky was staring at his metal arm, his face screwed up with pain. Steve wanted to reach out and comfort him, but Bucky looked like he needed to say this without interruptions. “When I came to in the hospital, I was told by the doctors I was lucky to have survived. Lucky all I lost was my arm. I don’t know if they even realised what they were saying. I’m not lucky. I lost everything in that explosion. My unit… I was a Sergeant. They were my men, and I led them straight into the bomb. I knew something was wrong, but I did nothing. Ignored my instincts, and they paid the price for my stupid mistake. Not a day goes by that I don’t think I should’ve been the one to die.”
Steve made a wounded noise and Bucky faced him, but his eyes went straight through him. Steve could see he was somewhere else, reliving what was probably one of the worst days of his life. “I get nightmares, nearly every night. All I can hear is the screams of my men around me, and I can’t do anything to help them. When I came back, my friends all abandoned me. My ex told me I was too damaged to bother with and I believed him. I believed that it was my penance for surviving when nearly everyone I loved had gone. Natasha and Clint were the only ones who stayed. They helped me through the worst of my depression, but I’m still not okay. I still blame myself. I still believe I’m too damaged for anyone to bother with.” At this, Steve did reach out and wrap his fingers around Bucky’s wrist, thumb rubbing along his arm. Bucky smiled, small and painful, and Steve felt the familiar anger rise in him. He wanted to fight whoever had made Bucky look like this. He wanted to tell Bucky this, but he knew it would probably have the opposite effect. Bucky didn’t need anyone fighting his battles. Steve had promised he’d listen and he kept his promises. He squeezed Bucky’s arm, silently asking him to continue if he wanted.
“My family tried to be supportive, but I shut them out for a long time. They kept trying to talk to me about it when all I wanted to do was forget. I’m not proud of the way I coped for the first few months after coming back. There was a lot of self-destruction, my attempt to clear my conscience. I went way off the rails, and it’s only because of Nat and Clint that I managed to come back from it. It was Natasha who pushed for me to go to therapy, and Clint who pushed me to get Soldat. I knew they were just trying to help, and I owed them my life, so I agreed. That was eight months ago. I got my apartment six months ago, after my therapist suggested I try to become more independent. That was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do since coming back. Leaving Nat and Clint’s place made me realise how much I’d come to depend on them, and I knew back then it wasn’t healthy. Realising it didn’t make it any easier.” Steve watched as Bucky took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever he was going to say next. “A month after I moved out of their apartment, I tried to kill myself.” Steve sucked in a shocked breath, causing him to choke slightly on air. Bucky looked at him with concern, finally coming back to himself. Steve shook his head, pulling his inhaler out of his pocket and taking a puff. Of course he’d interrupt Bucky with his stupidly weak lungs when he was trying to open up.
“You okay Stevie? Shit, I’m sorry. That was a lot to unload, huh?” Bucky blushed, grimacing when he realised what he’d just revealed to Steve. There was a brief flash of panic in his eyes that Steve was desperate to extinguish.
“I was really sick as a kid.” Steve offered quietly, “some days the doctors weren’t sure if I was going to survive the night. I have a shitty immune system, and my asthma didn’t help things. I got pneumonia every winter without fail, sometimes in the summer as well, and it made my mother sick with worry. She was working two jobs to pay for my never-ending medical bills, and it made me feel so guilty every time she’d come home looking like death warmed up.” Steve paused, knowing what he was going to say next was going to be difficult, “I was twelve when she died. It was cancer. Her body was too weak and overworked to fight it off, and I blame myself for that every day. The guilt alone almost killed me, but I knew I had to carry on fighting, or her death would’ve been for nothing. She did not die for me to just give up. I refuse to give up because of that.” Bucky was looking at Steve with what looked like awe, and it made Steve blush brilliantly. He looked down at his mug, swirling the contents around absentmindedly. “Most days it’s easy to carry on going, but I get those days when it’s difficult to get out of bed. Something so small could remind me of her and I’d stop trying for a moment. Stop trying to move forward, and just revel in the past, remembering her. I used to think that made me weak, but I know now it just makes me who I am. I still miss her like crazy.
“Grief doesn’t have a time limit. You can miss people your whole life and it might not ever get easier. But you have to keep on going.” Steve blinked against the tears furiously, not looking up at Bucky when he sniffed embarrassingly. This time, Bucky reached out to Steve, placing his metal hand over Steve’s carefully. Steve smiled at him gratefully, surprised to see tears glistening in Bucky’s eyes as well.
“Steve, I have to tell you something. And it’s not gonna be easy for me to say, but please bear with me.” Bucky looked extremely uncomfortable. Steve realised with a jolt Bucky was about to admit his feelings for Steve. It made him feel terribly guilty for the way he’d been messing with Bucky. He’d only wanted to tease him a bit, playing hard to get as revenge for the stunt Bucky had pulled. But this was before Bucky had just opened up about his past, trusting Steve so readily.
Steve couldn’t face this now, not when he was so overwhelmed with guilt. He took the cowards way out. “Bucky I’m so sorry, but I’ve got to get back to work. My break’s over. Uh, are you free tonight? We can talk then, if that’s okay?” Bucky looked so crestfallen Steve wanted to kick himself.
“Yeah that...that’s fine. I’ll text you later. Thanks for the drinks and the chat.” Bucky pushed his chair away from the table, beginning to redress himself for the weather outside. Steve tried for a smile, but was certain it looked more like a grimace, and Bucky’s face dropped considerably more. Steve hated himself so much in that moment. He walked backwards towards the counter, waving at Bucky hesitantly, promising to call him when his shift was over.
When he got into the kitchen, he banged his head against the wall and groaned, ignoring Peggy’s concerned face. He was such a fucking idiot.