part of the journey is the end
excerpt from a letter written upon hearing of poet dylan thomas's death.
it must be true, but i still can't believe it - even if i felt during the brief time i knew him that he was headed that way… thomas's poetry is so narrow - just a straight conduit between birth & death, i suppose - with not much space for living along the way.
- elizabeth bishop
21.
Bucky pops a bag of Lays open and inhales deeply. "Mm. Sometimes there's just nothin' better than junk food." He waggles the bag around just to hear that beautiful, beautiful sound of a chip bag crinkling.
"Right," Tony says, but he's smiling a little. "I could, uh, really go for a cheeseburger right now."
"Yes," Bucky replies immediately. He straightens up and looks over at Tony. "But without pickles."
"I think pickles are okay. It's a necessary sacrifice in order to get your food faster."
Bucky shakes his head, but he checks to make sure Tony knows he's only kidding. "Gross."
They settle into a comfortable enough silence, but even Bucky can't help thinking of the elephant in the room. God only knows what's going through Tony's head right now, considering everything that's just happened - not to mention it's like the icing on top of an already-shitty cake. Wordlessly, he proffers the Lays bag to Tony, and when he glances over, the hand in the bag is trembling.
"I'm okay, by the way," Tony says once he's eaten a chip. He won't look over at Bucky, instead staring intently at the floor as he licks the salt off his upper lip. "Just in case you don't think I am."
"Okay," Bucky says softly. He doesn't think another answer, or more querying, would be appreciated right now. It doesn't mean Tony shouldn't talk about it eventually, but for now - he thinks they both need a break.
"Do you want some more?" He shakes the Lays. "Not gonna lie, I'm probably gonna finish them off pretty soon. Steve always tells me I eat like a bottomless pit. Fast metabolism and all that."
"No thanks," Tony says quietly. He draws his knees up to his chest on the couch and lays his cheek on them, watching Bucky. "I guess I'm not very hungry after...Sunset." Then he draws his head up a little, frowning like he's thinking about what to say. "Honestly, Barnes - Bucky - I...I don't know. I think I really loved her. Like, when I was younger, I mean. She wasn't even that nice when we were dating, but...she was there, and she wanted me. It was nice." He shrinks back a little into the couch, the way little kids do in front of bullies, and something there just makes Bucky's heart - ache.
"I'm not gonna say I understand," Bucky begins slowly, "because I don't. At least, probably not as completely as you want me to. But I'm not gonna think about you any differently, and I'm not gonna tell anyone what happened between you and Sunset unless you want me to, okay?"
"Yeah. Okay. Yeah."
There's a pause before Bucky offers the Lays again, and this time Tony reaches out to take one. The tremors in his hand have stilled a bit more now.
"Sunset wasn't all that wrong, you know," Tony says quietly after a bit. Bucky pauses mid-crunch. "I'm - you might not have heard what she said, but...I've got blood on my hands. I've done bad things. I know Stark Industries kills people, even if it's for American soldiers. We could at least be helping in other ways, like, I don't know, exploring clean energy, but we've channeled all our time and energy into building weapons. And the people on the board, they don't even care. If they cared about helping soldiers, it would be more okay - but all they think about is the profit. Sunset wasn't that wrong, you know. If you think you're helping me because Sunset was invalid, you shouldn't be."
"That's not you, though," Bucky finds himself saying. Seconds later, he realizes for the first time that he truly, truly means it. In fact, when he thinks about it, a lot of what he used to think about Tony Stark wasn't just because of the guy's asshole reputation but how his family profited from war and seemed to disregard the fact that those were flesh-and-blood people out there, just trying to do what they thought was right. In hindsight...he's been stupid. Really stupid. "The actions of Stark Industries, for the wrong reasons or not, don't reflect on who you are. The fact that you're thinkin' about this in the first place should show that you're not a bad person. In any case, Bain's a bitch who looks like the lovechild of Kim Kardashian and Natalie Portman if said lovechild got hit by an eighteen wheeler. And I'm gonna keep sayin' that till you realize I'm right."
"Yeah, alright," Tony says, and he doesn't look convinced, but at least there's the ghost of a smile on his face now. "And Sunset is pretty. You can't lie about that."
"Okay, fine, sure," Bucky says, rolling his eyes, "but you're still prettier."
There's a silence.
"Okay," Tony says, thankfully choosing to ignore Bucky's idiocy. "Well, that's not too bad if I can beat out Kim and Natalie Portman."
Bucky chuckles. "Yeah, you gotta give yourself more credit."
Suddenly, the door to the cabin thuds open and Thor comes rushing in, as loud and cheery as always. "You all have started on the refreshments without me," he exclaims, only stopping when he sees Tony flinch back. "My apologies, Anthony," he says more somberly. "My mother tells me I have a tendency to be loud, like thunder."
"Well, she sure ain't wrong," Bucky says dryly.
Steve, Clint, Bruce, Sharon, and Natasha come trailing in behind Thor, shoulders dusted in a thin layer of powder. "Damn, you really started the party without us," Clint says, snagging a soda from one of the cupboards and tossing Dinamitas to Natasha. "Hey, Stark, how you doing?"
Tony eyes Clint with a look akin to a caged rabbit's before deciding he can sense no malice in the other boy's statement. "Uh, I'm good. It's just kind of cold out. Not that used to it."
"Yeah," Clint says, taking a seat on the couch perpendicular to theirs. "The East Coast really freezes your balls off."
At the cupboards, Thor's still rummaging through them. So far he's got a pack of gummies and two bags of chips gathered in his arms. Tony huffs a little laugh, eyes darting to Bucky's. "You were right," he murmurs sotto voce. "There really won't be anything left when he's done."
"'M always right," Bucky whispers back, stifling a snort as Thor staggers over to the couch with a resultant six bags of candy. "Thor, buddy, isn't that a little excessive?"
Thor looks over at them, frowning. "Hungry stomachs require much sustenance. Should I not desire to feed myself?"
"I'm pretty sure that's not what Bucky meant," Clint interrupts, grinning, "but you do you, man. No judgement here."
"Hey, where's Sunset?" Bruce says abruptly. "I didn't miss anything, did I?"
"I texted Steve," Bucky says casually, shrugging a shoulder. He shakes the last crumbs from the Lays bag into his mouth. "She told Tony and I that she wasn't feelin' well, so Sarah's sendin' someone to come pick her up."
"Oh," Bruce says thoughtfully. "So are we just taking care of Sharon for the rest of the day?"
Steve's face reddens from the long string of coughs he lets out.
"Yeah," Bucky says, slow grin spreading across his face. "We sure are. You alright there, Steve?"
Sharon, who's been quiet up until this point, narrows her eyes at Bucky. "Obviously not. Steve, do you need some water? It's a fact that if you drink water, you'll feel better. Your throat won't be as itchy, and you're probably coughing because it's cold outside and making it itchy."
"I'm good," Steve says hoarsely, massaging his larynx as if he were expecting to be guillotined at any second. "Really, Sharon. I'm fine."
Eventually the chatter trickles down and everyone resumes concentrating on their food, and it gives Bucky a strange but immense amount of satisfaction to see Tony sneak over to the cupboards to grab a bag of Welch's. He's moving furtively, as if he expects to be yelled at at any second for taking a whole snack item for himself, but seems to settle down once he's safely back on the couch. Bucky doesn't even know he's smiling until he catches Natasha watching him and realizes the corners of his mouth have crept, slowly but surely, up his face.
His phone pings with a message.
natasha:you're cute when you smile, barnes. you should do it more often
bucky: you don't like the brooding glare?
natasha: i like that too, but i think you're cuter when you're watching tony
Bucky frowns down at the screen.
bucky:i wasn't watching tony
natasha:okay, james
Had he been watching Tony? He's not even sure anymore. He glances over, to where the shorter boy has pulled out a grape gummy and is frowning at it like it's personally attacked him. Tony tosses the grape Welch back into the bag before searching for another one, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and - oh. Bucky's smiling again.
bucky: he's kind of like a puppy, now that we've been hanging out with him. i don't know
natasha:so does that mean you've completely forgiven him, then?
bucky: yeah. i guess we weren't very nice either, so he deserved an apology too. he didn't mean to break the arm anyway.
natasha:okay
Bucky's about to ask a question, maybe ask what she thinks about Tony - after all, she's been acting pretty nice lately and it's either because she's about to hide a body or because she's genuinely decided to like the other boy - when Sharon ambles across the room and plops down next to Tony, tugging on the two blonde braids sticking out from beneath her pink beanie.
"You're Tony Stark, right?"
"Mhm," Tony says warily. He eyes her with a healthy amount of trepidation, and Bucky feels for him. Sharon is a real character for fourteen years old.
Sharon cocks her head, studying him steadily. "You're pretty cute," she says finally, pursing her lips. "Even though I didn't really like the haircut you had two years ago, when you won that scholarship for MIT."
Tony laughs a little. "I agree that it wasn't my best haircut ever," he says, uncoiling a little on the couch. "It was way too short."
"Yeah," Sharon says, nodding seriously. "Boys always cut their hair too short. I don't know why you all think it looks good, because it doesn't."
Tony hums, but his eyes are crinkled.
"Anyway," Sharon continues, "you're lucky you're cute and have good hair, Tony Stark, or that haircut would've been atrocious. I think cute boys don't appreciate what they have enough. Like, why would you choose to have your hair that way instead of reaching your maximum potential?"
"I dunno," Tony says, indulging her. "You tell me." Bucky shares a look with the rest of the room, all of whom look just as at a loss for words as he is. Tony's talking to Sharon. Tony's enjoying talking to Sharon. What could Tony possibly be enjoying about talking to Sharon?
As Sharon goes off on a spiel about what makes or doesn't make a boy hot, Tony finally lifts his head to see everyone staring at him. "Wow," Clint murmurs, quietly enough that it doesn't distract Sharon from her rant. "That was one of the weirder things I've seen in my life."
Tony shrinks back a little but just shrugs, mouth quirking up. Sharon's been nothing but abrasive so far, and yet - there's something there that Tony likes, must like. Yeah, Bucky doesn't see it.
Finally, Sharon stops and waits expectantly. "You know your stuff," Tony notes, like he's been paying attention this whole time. "That's very impressive."
"I know," she says, and positively beams at him. "I like you, Tony Stark! The magazines don't do you justice. You know, most of the girls at my school think you're cute. Like, super cute. But they also say you're kind of a nerd. But that can be cute too, and besides, you're the kind of nerd who dates a lot of people. I think, in a few more years, you could be really hot. Once you grow up and stuff. Then maybe girls will stop focusing on pop singers and focus on you instead, if that's what you're going for." She looks at him with a critical eye. "Don't cut your hair though. It's really soft and tufty right now, and it's a good look. You might be getting a lot of girls right now, but you won't be if you cut all your successes away."
"So my success is based on my hair?" Tony says amusedly. God, Bucky wants to deck her.
"Yes," Sharon says emphatically. "Your face too, of course, but hair can really make or break a person. I would know."
"You seem to know a lot about hair," Tony says placidly. "Is there anything else I should know?"
"Okay, enough," Clint finally butts in. Bucky breathes an internal sigh of relief. "How about we finish up eating and head home, or something?"
Sharon turns and gives him the nastiest glare Bucky's ever seen a fourteen year old pull off before. "I'm talking to Tony," she says, grabbing Tony's hand. "I'm helping him out."
"I wouldn't call that helping…," Clint starts, but then Steve sighs and stands up.
"Clint's right," he says gently. "We've been out at the lake for a pretty long time now. Let's head home."
Sharon softens up the tiniest bit but still huffs as she stands, still gripping Tony's hand. "Come on, Tony," she says with all the exasperation that voice can muster. "While the spoilsports lead us back, we can continue discussing."
For all that Sharon acts like a very strange fourteen year old and definitely not the kind of girl Tony would've touched with a ten foot pole at that age, he finds himself - surprisingly - enjoying talking to her. There's a very raw and direct quality about her despite the way it displays itself in bold, overt frankness. It's been a long time since he's gotten to know someone so damn honest and it's - well, it's refreshing. And she seems to not hate him yet, so that's a bonus, too.
She chatters all the way back to the car, not letting go of his hand even when their palms begin to get sweaty. Sharon's got a whole arsenal of things to talk about, including but not limited to cute boys at her school, weird celebrities, cool celebrities, trends, and politics. She's surprisingly invested in politics and especially global and social issues. She's also honestly like the little sister Tony's never had but always kind of secretly wanted.
"There are rumors that you're gay," she says halfway through their trek back. They're hanging out at the back of the group, so nobody but Sharon sees when Tony starts and looks at her in surprise. "Are you?"
Tony's never made an effort to hide his sexuality. Howard disapproves, but personally Tony thinks it's because Howard had never gotten his own chance to experiment or experience and is thus angry because of it, not because he's truly homophobic. Regardless of the fact, he's still startled by Sharon's question. "I mean," he says, then stops. "No. No, I'm not."
"What are you then?" Sharon persists. "Straight? It would suck if you were, but I guess it would also suck if you were gay. I think it's cool to have options, even if being straight is like, the trend for a lot of people."
"I'm pansexual," Tony says softly. Even after countless times of telling people who he likes, it still feels weird to say.
"Oh," Sharon says. "That's cool. When'd you find out?"
"Twelve, I think," Tony says. "But I called it 'bi' at the time."
"Huh." Sharon kicks up the snow in front of her. "I think I like girls, Tony. Is that okay?"
"Of course," Tony replies immediately, but he can't helping asking: "What about Steve?"
"Oh, yeah, Steve." Sharon bites her lower lip pensively. "Can you like just girls but like maybe one boy? Because I don't really like boys, except for Steve. Does it still count?"
Tony shrugs. "It definitely counts, but ultimately it's up to you to decide how you want to define yourself. Or you don't have to at all. Not everything can come with a definition."
"Okay," Sharon says, kicking up more snow. "That makes sense. You're a smart cookie, Tony. Not just academically."
It takes a lot of effort for Tony to hide his smile.
Once they've reached home, Sharon beelines straight for Steve again. She doesn't seem affected at all by Sunset's absence, and for that Tony is grateful. Clint comes sidling up to him within moments of her departure, smirking, and Tony's palms begin to sweat again. He's not sure what Barton wants, and honestly the guy's been much more harmless since the incident, but he's still learnt to be wary around people. His only saving grace is that at least people who've expressed dislike of him are typically less cunning than those who haven't. After all, he dated Sunset, and look where that got him.
"So, spill - what'd you and Small Fry over there talk about?" Barton says with a casual grin. "How was the conversation?"
"It was fine," Tony says slowly. "She's not that bad."
"Huh," Clint says, surprise sparking in his features. "Maybe it's because you've only known her for a day."
"She's honest," Tony says. He doesn't know what prompts him to continue, but he does. "I like that. Speaking her mind might get on a lot of people's nerves, but so far it's gone well for me."
Clint's looking at him strangely.
"I just…" Tony shrugs, twisting his hands into the hem of his sweatshirt so that his fingers are swathed in fabric. "It's nice. The honesty."
"Stop harassing Tony," Natasha says, coming up from behind Clint. She grabs Clint's hand and begins to tug him away. "Leave him alone so Bucky can talk to him instead."
"What's wrong with me talking to Stark?" Clint argues indignantly, but Natasha just snorts and drags him from the kitchen and into the living room.
Left leaning with his hip against the countertop, Tony spots Bucky heading to him and waits as the other boy makes his way over. Bucky looks at him and smiles a little in greeting, but it's a little off. A little crooked, like something's bothering him. "Hey. How was the talk with Sharon?"
"We talked about a lot of things, I guess," Tony says, a wry light softening his face as he thinks back to their conversation. "A lot of things about what's popular. I guess Sharon's very into the loop."
Bucky snorts. "From what I've heard, like you would not believe. I don't know how she has time t' sleep with all that stuff running through her head." There's a pause, and the two settle into something not quite like companionable silence, but almost. "So. Sunset's not welcome here anymore; I didn't tell Sarah anything, but she seemed t' know somethin' was off. Motherly instincts, maybe. But you won't have t' see her again. Unless you wanna go beat her up yourself."
"And go to jail for assault?" Tony says back. His chest fills up with the taste of something wounded, like bruised fruit, but for some reason - it doesn't hurt as much now, talking about it. Talking about her.
Bucky's mouth crooks up at the side. "Nah. I'd help you hide the body."
The dark humor startles a laugh out of Tony. "Have you been doing research?"
Bucky just taps the side of his head with a metal finger. "Just experience. This arm? Killed a robot and stole it. I've got my ways, Stark. Bain would never see what's comin'."
Bucky's comment draws up a sudden memory of making the arm for him. It seems almost like the fact that Bucky's wearing what he made comes up once again in startling clarity, and the playful banter recedes into an awkward silence.
"Tony?" Bucky's looking at him, concernedly now. "You okay?"
Tony shakes his head to clear his thoughts, then nods. "Yeah, sorry. Sorry. Just spaced out for a second."
"No need t' apologize," Bucky says easily. "Say, everyone's headin' upstairs now, and I'm kinda in the mood for a movie. You wanna watch anything?"
"Shawshank Redemption," Tony says back, mouth curving up a little. "Thought it might, you know, go well with the jail theme."
"Ah." Bucky heaves a dramatic sigh. "I suppose you want t' watch me cry when Brooks dies, huh? Alright, c'mon. Before Sharon suggests playin' Truth or Dare or somethin'."