Forming Rifts
two || forming rifts
This was ridiculous.
Steve felt like throwing up now that he was in the privacy of his own bedroom (a bedroom, he might add, bare and empty much unlike his thoughts). It had been four days since he'd returned to American soil and only eight hours since the signing of the Accords. It was shocking when Bucky had signed first, to say the least. To be honest, back in Wakanda when Steve dreamt about coming home with Bucky, he tended to leave out all this corrupt government stuff and focused instead on how their relationship would develop. There was no time for the Accords; at least, not in Steve's fantasies. However, now that he had officially signed, he felt as if he were stuck in a corner with no way out. And really, even though he'd never admit it, the worst part about the Accords wasn't even that it took away everyone's rights and trapped superheroes under the thumb of villainous politicians, it was that Tony supported it.
Steve straightened on the bed, his sketchbook all but forgotten as he lost himself in his thoughts. Really, if you looked at all the bad things that Tony Stark had done--creating missiles for the bad guys, whoring around, insulting anyone with two legs and creating Ultron --then when a guy like him thought something was good, it had to be bad.
Pleased, Steve took up his pencil once more and continued his sketch of a certain dark-haired supersoldier. For a moment there he was even afraid he had made a colossal mistake about going against Stark, but no. He had done the right thing and was glad to realize that even seventy years into the future, he was still standing tall against bullies.
The only problem was, once again, Bucky's signing. Steve had even envisioned a scenario in which he'd have to hold his best friend down as the other man snarled and spit insults at Stark and all the rest of them--it would be understandable after all. However, Bucky had given an unsure quirk of the mouth and even seemed rather eager to scribble his name down on the dotted line. Oh well, it didn't matter anymore. Just because he and Steve were now officially government puppets didn't mean Steve was useless.
Suddenly, a light knock sounded on the door. The blonde looked up. "Who is it?" he asked warily.
"Lemme in, Stevie," came the exasperated voice of none other than James Buchanan Barnes. Steve's heart warmed at the familiar tone and accent. Like usual, it satisfied him to see how far Bucky had come--from the skittish, wary, and angry victim to a guy just as snarky and quick to laugh like before he'd fallen from the train--albeit lacking much of the confidence he'd once had. In fact, with the help of the BARF thing T'Challa had introduced, it was safe to say that he was as fine as he was ever going to get. The guy still had PTSD and a load of other issues, of course, but Steve knew how to handle that. Back in his war days, there had been tons of veterans just like Bucky.
To tell the truth, Steve was surprised that the Wakandan king had found a solution to ease Bucky out of the Winter Soldier programming so quickly...he would've even thought that Stark had been the one to invent it, considering T'Challa's evasiveness when asked about "those brilliant Wakandan scientists" Steve owed his thanks to. But he knew Tony wouldn't help his best friend, not when he was the sort to let emotions cloud his judgement.
He got up off the bedspread, making sure to flip his sketchbook shut, and then opened the door to find warm dark eyes blinking at him fondly. "You've been holin' yourself up in here ever since that final Accords meetin'. You okay?"
Steve nodded and sighed, motioning for Bucky to come in before closing the door softly behind them. "It's just...I don't know, Buck. I know this is all new to you, but the government isn't as safe as it used to be. Now they've got people like...Tony Stark, running all over the place and putting their noses in places their nose shouldn't be." Steve fidgeted, running a hand through his hair. "I hope we didn't make a mistake by coming back and agreeing to sign."
Bucky nudged him gently. It was sort of an awkward nudge; a gesture borne from habit rather than familiarity now, but it made Steve brighten nonetheless. "I talked to Stark a little jus' now, actually. He's not so bad, Stevie, you just hafta get to know him I think. He said some pretty agreeable things about the Accords. He told me it's been revised since you last saw it an' that heavy corrections were made."
The blonde shrugged, giving his friend a half-smile. "Well, I hope you're right...maybe some of your faith will rub off on me, huh? Listen, I've known Tony for a long time. He's not always...he doesn't always make the best decisions."
Bucky didn't seem to be listening; there was a serious concentration on his face as if he were stuck pondering another world entirely.
"Buck?"
"Yeah," Bucky said, snapping his head up and giving Steve the slight but warm grin that never failed to arouse the other man. "C'mon, enough moping. Let's get you some food, huh? I'll bet you've been sittin' here just drawin' since this morning." Bucky motioned and made his way to the door, Steve following. The brunette was right--he'd done enough moping; now was time to check out his surroundings and assess the situation at hand. If there was one thing he'd learned from Tony, it was to always look first--you never knew who'd jump out at the last second and stab you in the back.
***
Splat! Steve recoiled as yet another pea hit him squarely on the nose. He turned around, glaring at whomever the offender might be, but didn't see anyone but a few agents milling around or eating innocently from their trays.
Splat! Steve huffed a breath from his nose in displeasure and stood up, scanning the cafeteria. Bucky stood as well. "It's prob'ly just some asshole gettin' his kicks for fun. It's okay." Only Bucky's warm long fingers hovering tentatively near Steve's shoulder stopped him from snatching his tray and hurling it Captain America-style at anybody who looked vaguely suspicious.
"I know," Steve said, offering a strained smile in his friend's direction.
No more peas came after that, so he was just about to sit down and finish eating the rest of his meal (rather bland; he'd have to make a complaint because the food back in Stark's Tower had always been much more luxurious) when he spotted it.
The raccoon. Of course. Only a filthy animal could be the cause of Steve's woes.
A green-skinned woman, a--was that a tree?-- a plant thing, a hulking ogre or something, and a regular looking man (thank God) were situated next to the raccoon, and all were smirking at him. Even the tree thing looked like it was laughing, and from what Steve knew, not even twenty first century plants had emotions.
Despite Bucky's hushed but frantic whispering, Steve immediately stood again and stalked over to the little animal's table. The raccoon put the spoon with which he had been catapulting veggies back onto his tray and smiled innocently up at him.
"What do you think you're trying to pull here?" he said loudly, glaring at each creature in turn. The man especially annoyed him, because that devilish grin was all but wholesome. In fact, Steve could swear on his mother's grave that that smirk gave off the exact same vibe as Tony Stark's.
"Hey, we're just trying to enjoy this shit as much as you," the guy said, waving a hand at the mashed potatoes and peas. "Want to sit down and join us?"
The green-skinned lady elbowed him.
"Sorry," the man said, offering a charming smile that did nothing to placate Steve's worsening temper. "I'm Starlord. Otherwise known as Peter Quill. And you're...Captain America, is it? Except you're not really a captain are you?"
He peered over Steve's shoulder. "And you're the brainwashed terrorist that isn't a terrorist."
"I suppose you could say that," Bucky said with an amiable shrug as he moved to Steve's left, obviously looking to settle the situation.
"Don't call him a terrorist," Steve snapped. "Buck couldn't help what he was doing."
The raccoon chuckled. "Doesn't make him less of one," he said, and now Bucky was looking pained, and Steve tensed, readying up for a fight--
"Let's start over," the woman said loudly, eyeing Steve with luminous dark eyes. "I am Gamora. That is Quill, he's Drax, that's Groot, and that's Rocket."
"I'm not interested in knowing what your names are, I'm interested in why exactly you're trying to assault me when I'm eating," Steve said irritably.
"Rocket is sorry," the lady--Gamora--said with a pointed look at the small animal. "He just tends to be rather defensive to people who have hurt his friends."
"I haven't done anything to you people!" Steve said furiously. "Listen--get your--your--pet under control. He's been bothering me since I came home. You all need to leave me and Bucky alone, it's not like I haven't had any troubles ever since Tony had to--"
"Talking about me again, Rogers?" came a voice from behind him, and Steve turned to see Tony with a tray full of noodles sliding onto the bench opposite Quill and the four creatures. The billionaire gave a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "It's not that I don't appreciate the attention, but…"
"It is Rocket's fault," the huge ogre thing--Drax--said with an amused grunt.
"Ah, I see." Tony turned to the raccoon. "Harassing our...guests...are you?"
Rocket shrugged. "Come on, what'd you expect me to do? Sorry, but I just saw him sitting there in all that blonde-haired, big-nosed glory and couldn't help the opportunity. He looks better with his face all crinkled up when peas are hitting him."
"I don't have a big nose!" Steve burst out. The Quill guy gave him an unimpressed look. "Hey, man, you may be hot as hell, but your nose is pretty big."
Tony cleared his throat and everyone hushed instantly, turning to him. Bucky pressed closer to Steve, and Steve couldn't help but touching his shoulder to the other man's for comfort. "Okay, listen," the engineer said clearly. "Rocket, stop making trouble. That's not what we're going for here, alright?" The raccoon nodded with a huff, and Steve relaxed. This was good. Tony was defending him and Bucky, he was coming around. "And Rogers--don't yell at my friends. That's not acceptable, and quite frankly, you're kind of on thin ice right now. I'm giving you a second chance, but we can't have this." Steve flinched at the coldness in his former friend's tone.
Tony then turned to Bucky. "Barnes, you're welcome to stay and eat with us, because since you signed up to be Avenger you're definitely going to be working with these people sooner or later. Might as well get to know them."
"What about...Steve?" Bucky said slowly, as if he were actually thinking about eating with these neanderthals.
"Rogers, sorry," Tony said with a shrug that clearly conveyed how not sorry he was. "My friends come first and right now I don't think they'd welcome your companionship. I'll be having a...talk about that with them later." The raccoon huffed again. "In any case, Everett Ross wants to speak with you today since he wasn't available until this morning. He's been busy the past month or so but now's a good time as ever."
Steve spluttered. "I'm not--I'm not talking with that man. How could you, Tony? Even after torturing Banner, locking everyone up in the Raft--"
"Listen," Tony cut in sharply as everyone but Bucky rolled their eyes. "This Ross is named Everett Ross. The Ross you're referring to was thrown into jail months ago, if T'Challa provided you with a TV at all. That's Thaddeus Ross. This one is better."
"There's no such thing as better," Steve scoffed. "They're all bad--they're government slaves, Tony, don't you see?"
"I'm taking this to mean you want to reschedule the appointment," Tony said disinterestedly, twirling his fork around in the air.
"No." Steve had finally had it. He slammed his palms down onto the table, in his anger missing the sudden flash of fear in the smaller man's eyes. "God, Stark, how could you be so--so--awful? I thought we could fix this. But you're obviously not willing to. Even now, so selfish, it's disgusting really, why couldn't you be more like Howard?"
Tony stiffened and the blonde supersoldier could hear Bucky tugging him back, saying "hey, Steve, stop this, it's not you" but he ignored it. He was so sick of Stark and all his petty little Stark problems, he'd thought being here would make everything better but why would Tony get him a pardon if he wasn't even willing to try to get things back to the way they were? This was probably his punishment for listening to Stark in the first place. He should've known; it was like trusting a liar--you couldn't trust a liar no matter how many times the liar said he'd stop.
He threw a look of disgust at Stark and turned to go. "Come on, Bucky, we're done here. We're leaving."
The darker of the two looked at him unsurely, his mouth open. "I--Steve--"
"Come on," Steve insisted darkly, ignoring the stares of everyone sitting at the table as well as the surrounding people who'd been drawn in by the conflict.
"I can't," Bucky said firmly, his face distraught but resolute. "You're not acting you, Stevie, an'--"
"Fine," Steve snapped, throwing his hands up in the air and feeling more than a little betrayed. "God, Buck, sometimes I don't know why I try with us." He stormed off, avoiding Bucky's slightly confused but mostly hurt gaze and the rest of the snickering agents.