Chapter Text
Steve had never been more thankful that SHIELD had drastically downsized than when he heard what HYDRA had put Bucky through. Head swimming, he blindly stumbled outside the interrogation room that was holding Bucky and Fury. The usually busting corridor was nearly empty.
Tony joined him soon after. “Come on,” he said as he helped Steve to the nearest seat. He placed a firm hand on Steve’s head and guided it almost to his knees.
Steve breathed in and out for a moment. The floor swam in his vision, so he closed his eyes.
“He was tortured,” Steve gasped. “They tortured him, wiped his mind, and forced him to kill.”
Tony’s foot tapped on the floor. “Seems like it,” he said, going for casual and missing by a mile.
Steve’s heart still felt like it was going to pound right out of his chest, but the nausea had faded. He licked his lips, mouth dry, and looked up at Tony, who was resting in the seat next to him, eyes closed and head tipped back to lean against the wall. Steve’s chair creaked as he sat upright.
Tony didn’t open his eyes as he asked, “Are you going to stick with him?”
He missed Steve’s look of pure outrage. “Am I going…?” he echoed, incensed.
Tony’s eyes were slits. “Because it’s going to be rough going for a while, Cap. Maybe forever. He’ll have nightmares, or panic attacks every morning. The slightest thing might set him off, and he could go mute for a week. He could go haywire if left in the dark, like a child. Are you ready for any of that? All of that?”
“It’s Bucky,” Steve said defensively.
Tony nodded to himself. “If you have any trouble, you know who to call.”
“You?” Steve asked, face screwing up as he tried to picture any advice Tony might be able to give him about Bucky.
Tony rolled his eyes. “No, Pepper, you moron.”
“Pepper,” Steve repeated flatly.
“Pepper,” Tony said, smiling slightly as he shut his eyes again and leaned back in his chair. “She’s a real pro at dealing with crazy people day in and day out.” His fingers tapped anxiously against his thigh, though his face remained calm. “Well, one crazy person, at least.”
Steve snorted derisively. “I don’t think dealing with you is exactly the same-”
“Okay, I’m going to stop you right there,” Tony said as he turned towards Steve, his face deadly serious. “Since you clearly don’t have the whole story. Not that surprising, since I did all I could to wipe the story from existence, and I can do a hell of a lot of wiping on my worst day. Hell, everyone who is involved is dead now, so I’m really the only witness and if I was a real genius, I’d erase the whole episode from my head and be done with it. God knows I would be better off if-”
“Tony,” Steve said, eyes narrowing at the endless rambling. “What the hell are you saying.”
“I am saying,” Tony said quickly, “That Pepper knows people who’ve been tortured, okay?” He exhaled a loud breath.
Steve took a beat to process. “You?” he asked again, blinking at Tony.
Tony gave a tiny nod.
“I – what happened?”
Tony swallowed, eyes darting to the still-closed door of Bucky’s interrogation room. “To make a long story short, I had a run in with kidnappers who wanted me to build them weapons for their witch death squad. I said no. Apparently, that wasn’t an acceptable answer.” He shrugged and jerked his head towards the door. “I didn’t kill anyone with my own hands like he did, but I might as well have. I was with them for four months. He was with them for a year and a half.”
“Was it HYDRA too?”
Tony’s eyes flashed. “Does it matter?” he asked rhetorically. “You still get fucked up in the head, no matter who’s at the other end of the whip.”
“I suppose not,” Steve said quietly, his face burning with Tony’s rebuke. “I’m sorry.”
Tony’s shoulders slumped. “Don’t apologize. I was being an ass.”
“You say that like it’s news,” Steve said, the barest hint of a smile turned up the corners of his mouth.
Tony pulled a face. “See if I ever share my tragic backstory with you again, Rogers.” He raised a hand and it hovered in the air awkwardly for a moment before Tony brought it down to pat Steve’s arm. “It’ll be okay,” he muttered, red-faced. “You’ll, uh, pull through this. You and Balto.”
Steve swallowed, pressing his lips together. Tony was a skilled liar, but evidently talk of his past torture put him off his game.
Tony took one look at Steve’s face and jumped to his feet. “I’ve got to,” he began, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “Wedding, you know. Pepper needs me. Uh, good talk.” He paused, clearly itching to flee. “You okay on your own?”
“Yeah.” Steve cleared his throat and said, his voice a fraction stronger, “I need to wait for Bucky.”
Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Are you going to go back in there?”
“I don’t know,” Steve said truthfully.
Tony rocked back on the balls of his feet as he thought. “Might be better if you didn’t,” he said slowly. “Then Barnes can tell you what happened to him on his own time.” He shrugged. “That sort of control, he probably hasn’t had a lot of it in the past eighteen months. Just saying.”
Steve let him go with a weary wave of his hand. He could do this.
Tony paused halfway to the elevator that would take him up to street level. “And don’t worry about the assassin thing,” he said. “I’ve got the best lawyers working on getting him, the best my money can buy. And my money goes pretty far.”
“Thanks, Tony.”
Tony shoved his hands in his pockets. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re back, Cap. Even if it’s not permanently or anything… it’s good to see you. I just wish it was under better circumstances.”
* * *
Steve was exhausted. He would have stared aimlessly at the wall or read endless news stories on his phone, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything. The fight from that morning blurred with their last mission with Chicago, all interspersed with images of Bucky’s drawn face as they sat side-by-side in the helicopter. It had been too loud to talk, but they exchanged reassuring looks and every so often Bucky squeezed Steve’s hand as if to let him know everything would be alright.
Steve’s brain seemed to screech to a halt as Sam met him, still sitting outside Bucky’s interrogation room twenty minutes after Tony had fled the premises. He nearly did a double take at the incongruous sight of Sam in SHIELD headquarters.
“Hey,” Sam said gently as he approached. “How’re you holding up?”
“Fine,” Steve said automatically.
Sam pulled an expression like he was ashamed that Steve could ever baldly lie to his face like that.
“I’m a little tired,” Steve admitted after a beat. “Not sure what I’m supposed to be doing.”
Sam snorted. “You think I do? A superspy texts me that I’d better get my ass to New York if I know what’s good for me, and next thing I know, a fucking helicopter is landing in my front yard – and I’m going to get some damages for my squashed tomatoes, see if I won’t – and then you turn up and your wolf-turned-boyfriend. Then next thing I know, I’m a hundred floors in the air and being shown my own room with a view of Central Park. What the hell Steve?”
Steve laughed despite himself. “The Avengers take some getting used to.”
“I’m not an Avenger,” Sam said slowly like he thought Steve was being stupid.
Steve shrugged. “Friend of - Same thing.”
Sam just shook his head. “I can’t believe any of this.”
Steve glanced across at the closed door blocking his view of Bucky and Fury. “Neither can I,” he said. He couldn’t help the large sigh that followed. “It’s like a dream, Sam. A terrible, pants-shitting terrible dream.”
“But you got him back,” Sam said, his smile at once happy and sympathetic. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”
Steve lifted one shoulder in a hopeless gesture. “Tony says he’s going to be… different. HYDRA’s messed him up a lot.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “And did it ever occur to you that you’re way different than he’ll remember too? You thought your best friend that you’ve known half your life died. You mourned him, Steve. You ran away from all of your friends to get rid of seeing him everywhere.”
“Thanks,” Steve said sourly. “Because I was worried that it was going to be too easy to talk to him again.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m just saying, you’ve both changed since that whole mess in Chicago. He’s probably been through more shit than you have, for sure, but that doesn’t mean that your life over the past year has been rainbows and daisies. You’ve both gotten through it, for better or worse, and now you’ve got to find a way to move forward. Hopefully together. Don’t go let him think that he’s been alone in this or that you’re just going to be a supportive bystander. Just talk to him, Steve, it’s as simple and as hard as that.”
Steve’s lip curled up into a wry half-smile. “When’d you get so wise?”
Sam leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. “Shit, I’ve always been wise as hell. It’s your own damn fault you had your head too far up your depressed ass to notice.”
“Are you going to stay in the Tower?”
Sam froze. “I don’t know,” he said. “It’s a lot to take in.”
“I thought so too,” Steve said, trying not to sound too eager. “It takes some getting used to, and Tony is for sure a character, but now that Bucky’s back we could-” He broke off as Sam held up a hand, his face more serious than he had been when discussing recovery from torture.
“I think I’m going to have to clear out for a while,” Sam said, not meeting Steve’s eyes. “Me and Natasha – she’s talked about taking a vacation, said she hasn’t had one in years.”
“But-” Steve broke off, unable to say that Sam had been his rock for the past year and he was just now leaving when Steve needed him the most.
Sam’s shoulders slumped. “Look,” he said, meeting Steve’s eyes unflinchingly. “I get that the next couple months are going to be hard for you, but I don’t think I can sit around and watch you and Bucky - I need time to adjust, and I think being with Natasha for a little while can help.”
“I guess so,” Steve said, head bowed.
Sam let out a small noise of frustration as he sat up to fully face Steve. “I can’t sit around and pretend to be okay that you get to reunite with your long-lost love, okay?” He swallowed. “I know myself, and that’s not something I can see and not resent you for… right now. Nat’s the same, probably. She likes to be cryptic but I think she’s in the same boat I am.”
Steve sat in silence for a moment, reading the raw determination in the set of Sam’s brows and his rigidly straight posture that would make air force generals proud. “Of course, I understand,” he said in a mostly-even tone. “You take as much time as you need.”
Sam sighed. “You can always call me, you know?”
“Where will you be going?” Steve asked in a forced-casual tone of voice. “Hawaii? Bahamas?”
Sam scowled. “No, she doesn’t do bikinis for some reason. Eastern Europe, she said. Has some unfinished business.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “Riley’s sister lives in Marseilles. Maybe I can angle for France on the way out. I’ve owed her a visit for a while.”
* * *
Six hours passed between the tense helicopter ride down to New York, and Bucky's exit from interrogation. When he finally emerged, exhaustion emanating from every pore of his body, Steve jumped out of his chair.
Fury nodded at him once in acknowledgement. “He’s all yours, Rogers. Make sure he doesn’t leave Avengers Tower. It would be wise if you didn’t either. We’ll come calling in a couple days once we’ve sorted this shitshow out.”
Without another word, he vanished in a swish of leather.
Steve just looked at Bucky, drinking him in.
Bucky smiled back at him, at once sad and resigned. “We’d better get going,” he said in a low voice. “Unless you have unfinished business here…” he drifted off.
Steve shook his head and the pair of them made their way to street level, where an unmarked black SUV was waiting. It still had a new car smell, and Steve vaguely recognized Tony’s private driver, Happy, behind the wheel. After forced pleasantries, they clambered in the back. Traffic crawled by, and Steve’s leg started to jiggle by the third red light they hit in a row. Bucky stared out the window, unblinking as he took in the pedestrians and yellow taxi cabs. The ride was quiet and tense.
Once outside the Tower, Bucky stared at up at it for a split second. “I don’t know why I thought it would be different,” he said with a shake of his head before he headed inside.
Steve hesitated as he stepped into the elevator. He would have taken the stairs if their apartments weren’t more than a hundred stories up. He swallowed and stared straight ahead as the elevator doors closed in front of him, heart all but thundering in his ears.
Bucky’s eyes rose at Steve’s obvious anxiety. “You okay?” he asked after a beat.
“I don’t like elevators,” Steve said shortly.
Bucky’s expression was almost understanding. “It’ll be over soon,” he said, gesturing to where the screen that announced that they were flying past the fifties now.
Steve held back a wince. “You don’t have to do that,” he said harshly. “I’m fine.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look less fine,” Bucky said, eyebrows raised.
“Well, you haven’t seen me over the past year–” Steve broke off before continuing sardonically, “Oh wait, you’ve only been around for the past two months. I was almost getting better then.”
Bucky’s jaw set and he stormed out of the elevator. His apartment door slammed behind him, and Steve flinched.
Steve followed at a slower pace, regret and embarrassment filling him with every step. He stood outside Bucky’s door, and knocked.
Bucky didn’t answer, and Steve could mostly see where he was coming from. Determined not to let this fester, especially this early in coming home, Steve barged in anyway. After they talked, if Bucky still didn’t want to see him, then Steve would respect his wishes.
Maybe Sam and Nat wouldn’t have left for Europe yet.
Stepping inside Bucky’s apartment was like walking into a time machine. The place was virtually untouched since Steve had been there last, since the night before Chicago. His mindset had been so different, high from kissing Bucky for the first time and frustrated that it was all going to be snatched out of hands before anything could come of it. It was like putting himself into the mindset of an old storybook character.
He heard the shower going, and the sounds of water spray hitting tile.
Steve glanced around, taking in the clean kitchen, Bucky’s favorite couch in front of the television where they’d wasted too many hours watching shitty movies with Natasha, the spot on the floor where Lucky peed because Bucky hadn’t let him out in time because he was hungover. The blinds were drawn, blocking the view of a darkening Central Park. The yellow-orange lights of the city at night still spilled through the cracks, giving everything a fuzzy glow.
He absentmindedly got himself a glass of water, and one for Bucky too. He sat down at the island on the kitchen counter and waited. Head in his hands, he closed his eyes as if that could block out his thoughts, the endless questions that only Bucky had a hope of answering.
The water shut off, and Bucky was standing beside him, half-naked but for a towel slung around his waist and a terrifying expression on his face.
“What are you doing here?”
Steve sat up a little straighter, hands tingling like he was prepping for a fight. “Are you really going to lecture me about bursting in uninvited?” he asked, raising unimpressed eyebrows.
Bucky’s scowl deepened. “What do you want.” It wasn’t phrased as a question.
“Can we talk?”
Bucky didn’t respond at once. “You’re not going to let me go until we do, right?”
“Probably not,” Steve said shortly.
“Wonderful,” Bucky said bitterly, adding with a wave of his hand, “Well, get on with it.”
“Er,” Steve said, his blush probably visible like a neon sign even in the darkening room. “Can you put on some clothes first?”
Bucky looked down at himself, as if surprised at his own state of undress. “I – sure.” He slunk off to find clothes and reappeared seconds later, wearing sweat pants and a tee shirt that had seen better days. Steve was almost positive Bucky had grabbed them out of the gym clothes pile.
“Let’s move,” Steve said as he grabbed his glass of water and thrust the other at Bucky once he was in reaching distance. He didn’t wait for Bucky’s reaction, and instead flopped down at one end of the couch. He stared at the blank television screen in front of him, and felt more than saw Bucky gingerly take a seat at the far end. “Comfortable?” he asked.
Bucky nodded, looking confused and more than a little vulnerable without his scowl and hair in front of his face. His hair didn’t look like it’d been cut at all in the past year, hanging loosely down to his chin. Slick with water from his shower, Bucky had pushed it back and out of the way, but Steve doubted that it would dry like that.
“Well?” Bucky demanded after a moment of heavy silence.
“What?” Steve asked, a little more belligerently than he’d planned.
“You wanted to talk, so talk,” Bucky said with a grand sweep of his hand.
Steve swallowed and took a sip of his water. “I don’t know where to begin.”
“The beginning?” Bucky tried as he avoided Steve’s gaze, poking instead at a hole in his tee shirt near the hem.
“Alright then.” Steve set his water down and crossed his arms across his chest. “How did you survive Chicago?” His eyes narrowed. “Or did you not, and HYDRA was messing around with Life magic?”
“I’m not a zombie, Steve,” Bucky said sharply, the very picture of affront. “Course I’m me.”
“Of course,” Steve muttered. He stared at Bucky, who fidgeted under his gaze.
“The shield,” he muttered. “I couldn’t get anyone under there with me, but it protected me from being crushed to death or smashed by the falling building. Most of the heavy debris just slid right off.”
“SHIELD said they found the shield by y-your body,” Steve said. He clenched his hands in his lap and stared at them. “I saw it. I went to your funeral.”
Bucky was quiet when he finally spoke, his voice strained. “That was all Pierce. SHIELD – HYDRA, whoever they were that day, took me. I heard them laughing about it; how they’d gotten away with stealing an Avenger right from under their noses. Replaced me with whatever you really found down there.”
Steve couldn’t speak for a moment. Throat tight, he just looked at Bucky, who was fiddling with the glass between his fingers. “And after?” he choked out.
Bucky looked up at him. “Do you really want to know?”
Steve nodded.
“They wiped me,” he said in a dull, detached voice. “Hit me with so many memory wiping spells that I forgot my own name. I was powerful – more powerful than any other familiar they had. They told me that HYDRA was responsible for it. That if I disobeyed or stepped out of line they’d take it all away. I didn’t know any better, so I believed them.” He ran a hand down his face, blinking rapidly. “The magic felt right. It was all your magic, Steve, so of course it felt right at fucking home. I had no idea – I didn’t know that I’d taken your magic. I had no idea.” He swallowed and looked away, staring without seeing at the blinds blocking their view to the world.
“Bucky,” Steve stared, but Bucky cut him off.
“But you got it back, right?” he asked. “You can do magic now. I saw you.”
Steve nodded, twisting his fingers absently. The water in his glass filled itself nearly to the rim. “I can. It’s like when we were Bonded.”
“I – are we not Bonded anymore?” Bucky asked, eyebrows drawing together. “I thought… I felt you. Earlier.”
Steve shook his head, reaching out to grab Bucky’s wrist. “We’re still Bonded,” he reassured. He squeezed once before he let go.
Bucky didn’t look comforted. He shifted, curling a little in on himself. “I had no idea,” he repeated. “I didn’t mean to. I wouldn’t have, if I’d known.”
Steve recoiled. It would’ve hurt more if Bucky had cut him with a slicing spell. Steve had been through a year and a half of being not Bonded to Bucky, and he wouldn’t wish to repeat it in a thousand lifetimes. He’d assumed Bucky would feel the same, but apparently not.
“Then why come back at all?” he asked coldly. “You found me, Bucky. In the middle of nowhere.”
Bucky lifted his head a fraction. “I didn’t know who I was,” he said quietly. “HYDRA had erased everything about me.”
“Then how’d you find me?”
“After a year, I think – I didn’t have a great track record with keeping time when I was with them – something about the magic didn’t start to feel right. It was like it was rotting inside me.” He laid a fist against his sternum. “The scientists were trying to figure it out. They pulled me from missions, did all sorts of tests.” He scowled at the memory, forehead pinched with the memory. “Late, after they must’ve been up for 48 hours doing all sorts of things to me, they overlooked the restraints. I escaped.” He shuddered. “It was like your magic was pulling me in the right direction. I could breathe easier; I could think straight. I went north, kept going until I found you.”
“And, uh, did that make you feel better?” Steve asked hesitantly. “When you found me?”
“Yeah, a little,” Bucky said, one corner of his mouth lifting into a lopsided smile. “It helped.”
Steve frowned at the memory. “But you bit me.”
Bucky actually laughed at that. “I’m sorry.”
Steve pulled up his sleeve to stare at the faded imprint of teeth over his Bond mark. Bucky leaned over, tracing his finger over both. He drew back as Steve shivered beneath his touch, eyes wide.
“No, it’s fine,” Steve said hoarsely. “It just tingles.”
Still Bucky sat back at his end of the couch, looking more closed off than ever.
But Steve was determined to press on, get the full story out of Bucky. Then he’d let him go. If Bucky didn’t want to be Bonded to him anymore, if HYDRA had ruined that too, then Steve wouldn’t force him. He wouldn’t ever force Bucky into a situation where he thought he had to obey another master that he didn’t want. Call him dramatic, but Steve would rather die first.
“Why’d you bite? Is it because you didn’t remember me? You remember now, right?” Steve asked, peering at Bucky’s still form in the dark.
Bucky shifted. “I remember you,” he said quietly. “After I bit you – your blood did something. Maybe all HYDRA’s fucking around with Blood magic was good for something. Made me sensitive to it, or… I don’t know. It all started coming back after that.”
“Oh.”
Bucky shrugged. “Not in order though.”
Steve drained his water glass for something to do, and fiddled with it in the ensuing silence. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?” Steve asked, unable to hold it in any longer. “You must’ve known at least towards the end.”
“Did I?” Bucky spat with surprising vehemence. “Friend? Partner? Teammate? Lover? They were all jumbled up here for so long.” He gestured to his head angrily. “I’m still not sure what we are, Steve.”
“What? We’re –” but Steve broke off, not quite sure where that sentence would end. He had no idea if Bucky wanted any of that anymore. “We can figure it out,” he said firmly.
Bucky just sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. “Steve, it’s getting late. I’m going to turn in.”
“What? Okay,” Steve said as he bit back the arguments that were still on the tip of his tongue. He turned back as he reached the door, not wholly unsurprised to see that Bucky hadn’t moved an inch. “You’ll be here, right? Tomorrow?”
Bucky gave him a solemn nod. His hair fell in his face, shielding him from Steve’s prying eyes.
After everything, Bucky deserved for his privacy to be respected.
Steve left.
* * *
Steve felt like his body had been put through the wringer, but his head couldn’t quiet down. His phone showed him it was only nine at night, but he should’ve been able to get to sleep considering all that had gone down since he’d gotten up that morning. Eventually, he made his way to the bathroom and shook out two sleeping pills left over from before he’d left the Tower, when he was still in the midst of fresh grief. Tony was the one to suggest them, but gave him strict instructions to stick to the recommended dosages and not try any funny business.
Steve hadn’t done anything to hurt himself, but the first time he’d stood in his bathroom, contemplating differently, he’d thrown the whole bottle back in the cabinet and driven north the next day.
Steve carefully shook out the proper number of pills and swallowed them down with a handful of water. He straightened up, taking in his unkempt, slightly greasy hair, the bags under his eyes, and the worry lines in his forehead that seemed deeper than the last time he’d looked in the mirror.
He fell asleep, but woke up gasping at four-thirty in the morning, hand outstretched to reach Bucky at the end of that elevator shaft.
He was on his feet before conscious thought caught up to him. He paused, glanced askance at his rucked sheets before bolting for the door. Doubt curdling in his stomach, he paused with his fist raised in front of Bucky’s apartment. He had stood in his spot more times than he would ever care to remember, at war with himself. Seeing if he had the guts to knock and make it all real, escape the terrible limbo where Bucky was at once dead and not-dead.
Steve was done being a coward and running away.
The sound reverberated around the empty hallway like an accusation.
Heart sinking in his chest, Steve swallowed as the silence dragged on. He couldn’t have dreamed up that Bucky had come back. He wouldn’t have dreamed up such a horrific explanation why Bucky stayed away for so long. He wasn’t that insane.
A muffled curse broke through his mental spiraling, and Steve exhaled a loud breath of relief as Bucky tugged the door open.
“Steve?” he asked groggily. “You couldn’t text me like a normal person? I had to wake up to a single knock on the door like a horror movie?”
“I didn’t think-”
Bucky cut him off with a roll of his eyes. “Do you ever?” He opened the door wider to let Steve in.
Steve offered him a grateful look as he stepped inside. He hovered by the door, unsure of what Bucky wanted to do next. To his surprise, Bucky led him to the bedroom. “I’m still tired as hell, but if want to have another heart-to-heart, we might as well do it where I’ll be comfortable.” He sat down on the bed.
Steve paused in the doorway.
“What, getting gun shy now?” Bucky asked with raised eyebrows. “We’ve shared a bed before.”
“I – it’s not that,” Steve said as he took a step closer, eyeing the bed like it was going to jump up and swallow him whole. “Are you okay?”
Bucky snorted. “Probably not, but when has that ever stopped you?”
Steve’s lips quirked up into a half smile as he slowly sat down on the opposite side of the bed. Back against the headboard, he stared at Bucky who was wringing his hands in his lap as he sat cross-legged on top of the covers on his side. “You seem… different. Than last night, I mean.”
“Getting a decent night’s sleep for the first time in a year will do that to you,” Bucky said with a strained smile. “It was hot as hell under all that fur, and before, I was – well. I wasn’t really staying in five-star hotels, if you catch my drift.” He pushed back his long hair from out of his face, grimacing as it slid right back into place a second later.
“You didn’t have to stay a wolf,” Steve said quietly. “You could have turned back.”
Bucky bit his lip. “It was simpler that way.”
“It was simpler to let me believe that my best friend had died?” Steve asked bitterly. “It was simpler to let me think that I was going insane for trusting a wild animal in my home?”
Bucky ducked his head, an embarrassed flush rising to his cheeks. “It was simpler for me,” he said to the sheet he was twisting between his fingers. “I couldn’t answer a lot of the questions you’d have. I couldn’t – I couldn’t be what you wanted.”
“We could still-”
“No we can’t,” Bucky said fiercely. “Don’t tell me that it’s going to be the same as before because it’s not. There’s no way you could-” He broke off with a sharp inhale of breath. “I thought I’d have more time,” he muttered, mostly to himself.
“More time for what?”
Bucky met his gaze. “You want the real reason I didn’t turn back into myself? I wanted more time to pretend that everything would be fine when you found out who I really was.”
“Bucky,” Steve said, a note of pleading creeping into his tone, “How could I be anything less than thrilled when I found out who you were?”
“The Winter Soldier?” Bucky said hatefully. “Because that’s who I really am; that’s who you were harboring in your safe house for four months. That’s who attacked you that first night, and that’s who you’re getting now.”
“No-”
“Don’t pretend, Steve,” Bucky spat. “I’ve done enough pretending for the both of us.”
“Bucky,” Steve said as he leaned in closer, slowly, to give Bucky time to shove him off, “I don’t believe that for a second. You’d never hurt me; you’d never hurt our friends. You’re different than I remember, sure, and I might never know the full extent of what HYDRA did to you, but that doesn’t mean you’re a different person now that you’re home.” He tilted Bucky’s face up, brushed some of his hair out of his face.
Bucky shook off his touch, and a bit of Steve died inside. “I killed people, Steve. People who didn’t deserve it. People who had families, who knew better than to trust HYDRA.” He broke off, swallowed, and continued, “You can’t be Bonded to someone like that.”
Steve’s eyes narrowed. “That’s tough, because I am.”
Bucky licked his lips, drew in a ragged breath, and said, “Not for long. I’m going to figure out how to break it tomorrow.”
Steve’s heart stopped momentarily in his chest before starting up again in double-time. He jerked backwards, nearly falling off the bed. “You can’t be serious.”
“Of course I am,” Bucky said resolutely.
“Bucky – you don’t have to do that,” Steve said quickly. “If you’re doing it because you think that’s what I want, you couldn’t be more wrong. Being Bonded to you is all I’ve ever wanted since I was thirteen.” He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to see Bucky’s face and get his next words out. “But if you don’t want me, if you’d rather walk away from all of this, I’d understand.”
Bucky looked at him blankly. “Walk away?”
Steve bit his lip to get a handle on himself. “If that’s what you want. If – If you need to start over, get away from all of this,” he gestured to the Tower and the window showing the lightening New York streets, “then I shouldn’t stop you. You can choose, Bucky. You have a choice.”
Bucky didn’t say anything for a moment, the longest moment of Steve’s life.
“I won’t love you any less if you need an escape,” Steve said, glaring down at his lap as he quietly fell to pieces. “God knows, I’d understand if everything here just reminds you of something you can’t have anymore.”
“Not everything.”
Steve almost didn’t hear him. His head whipped around as he stared at Bucky.
“You mean it?” Bucky asked, scowling. “You want to stay Bonded?”
“Not if you don’t.”
“Steve.”
He sighed. “Yeah, I want to stay Bonded to you. It felt like I wasn’t Bonded for the past eighteen months, and it was living hell.”
“Even if I’m like this?” Bucky asked, voice small. “This isn’t what you signed up for at thirteen. I wouldn’t hold you-”
Steve smiled. “I don’t care. I love you.”
Bucky’s shoulders drooped. Steve reached out to gently maneuver his body so Bucky was lying down on the bed, his head resting on Steve’s stretched out legs. “I’m sorry you ever thought there’d be a version of you I didn’t want to be Bonded to,” he said in a low voice as he ran a hand through Bucky’s hair.
Steve’s heart lurched in his chest as he felt the damp spot spread on his pajama pants where Bucky’s tears were falling. “I love you too,” Bucky said after a moment.
“Good,” Steve said gently. “Glad that’s settled.”
Bucky nodded against his leg. “You want that too?”
“I want everything.”
* * *
They stayed like that for an hour, talking quietly between themselves as Steve shared what he’d been up to before Bucky caught up with him in Maine. In turn, Bucky spoke a little more about what HYDRA had put him through. Bucky was still holding back, but Steve didn’t press him for more information. If Bucky felt like talking more about it, then he would.
“And then I found you, and your stupid little garden,” Bucky was saying. “And I didn’t know you from Adam, but your magic did.” He bit his lip. “I’m sorry again for biting you. Obviously, I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known better, but at least it jump started the memories.”
Steve ventured after a moment, “What did you remember first?”
Bucky didn’t answer at first, blushing so hard the red was visible even in the semi-darkened room. “Coney Island,” he muttered. “We were at Coney Island, waiting at the end of the line for the Cyclone.”
Steve paused. “Coney Island? That’s funny – I had a dream about that a couple of weeks ago. Out of the blue. Do you think-?”
Bucky snorted. “Do I think what?”
“That it’s a coincidence?” Steve asked.
“You really are dumber than you look,” Bucky said, but his words held no heat. They sounded almost fond. “It was more than a coincidence, or my dream sharing spells are a lot worse than I thought.”
“What?”
Bucky pushed himself into a sitting position. “You thought that was just a dream?”
“Of course I did!” Steve cried. “You were dead!”
“No, I wasn’t,” Bucky said with a smirk.
“How the hell was I supposed to know that?” Steve demanded. “You wouldn’t tell me. You’d been living with me for months.”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “I did tell you.”
“No you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did,” Bucky argued. “At Coney Island, remember? I told you I wasn’t dead. And you didn’t believe me.”
Steve went white as his face drained of color. “But – that was just my subconscious –”
“How did you survive this long?” Bucky said, throwing up his hands. “That wasn’t you – that was me. Did you really think you were the one to come up with Pierce’s master plan in your sleep too? I was there, right smack in the middle of HYDRA for the past year and a half. I heard everything.”
“I – you?”
Bucky frowned as Steve continued to flounder. “Did I break you?”
Steve shook his head and held up a hand. “Those dreams, that was you? And I didn’t believe you. You were trying to tell me, but I just left you there-” He broke off, his breath coming in short gasps. “You were there the whole time and I didn’t see – I couldn’t see what was in front of my goddamn face –” He sucked in a lungful of air, his hand reaching up to press on his sternum as he couldn’t get enough oxygen to form another coherent thought.
“Steve? Steve!” Bucky shuffled around on the bed so he was right in Steve’s face.
Steve skittered back in alarm and nearly brained himself on the headboard.
“Fuck,” Bucky cursed. He placed his hand on Steve’s chest, fingers splayed as he muttered a calming spell. The tendrils of Bucky’s magic, his familiar’s magic, seeped inwards, and Steve’s heart stopped thundering in his veins and his lungs stopped hyperventilating. Bucky sat back, eyeing him warily. “Don’t do that again,” he said harshly.
“And here I thought you’d have all the issues when he got back together,” Steve said weakly.
Bucky just shook his head. “Are you okay?”
“I am now,” Steve said as he sat a little straighter.
Bucky moved around so he was sitting next to Steve, their shoulders flush together. “I didn’t think of what you’d gone through.”
“You were dead,” Steve said simply, still a little lightheaded from the panic attack. “And I couldn’t cope. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said that you caught me on the upswing once you broke free of HYDRA. I wasn’t okay for a long time.”
Bucky grabbed his hand and squeezed. “But you’re going to be okay now, right?”
Steve pulled him closer and answered him with a kiss.
* * *
They stayed in Avengers Tower, temporarily off active duty. By now SHEILD had finished their final background checks for HYDRA connections, and things had more or less returned to normal. Fury was still as inscrutable as ever, as Tony would tell anyone who would listen that he still didn’t trust him any further than he could throw him.
Tony didn’t have much time to dwell on SHIELD conspiracy theories, though, because he was getting married.
“I can’t believe him,” Steve stormed in to their apartment, just remembering in time not to slam the door. “Why can’t Pepper do this with him? She’s the one marrying the bastard.”
“Because Pepper is busy running a multibillion dollar operation and you and I both know keeping Tony busy is the best method to prevent him from bailing at the first sign of trouble,” Bucky said calmly from where he was checking his email on the couch. The television droned on at half volume in the background, some cooking competition based on the chef hats and looks of intense anxiety from the people on screen.
“But why do I have to be the person to keep him busy? Bruce is his familiar!”
Bucky shrugged. “Bruce has his science stuff. I think he just signed a book deal to get out of wedding planning. He’s going to write books for more nerds. He’s busy. You’re not, as Tony keeps telling you.”
Steve switched the channel with a wave of his hand, glaring at the screen. “No more food. No more flowers. No more fucking place cards. I am fucking done. Did you know, the florist – from Canada, not that’s any excuse not to know who Tony Stark is – thought we were the ones getting married? I wanted to strangle Tony.”
“Why?” Bucky asked, looking up.
“Because he played along with it!” Steve exploded as he flopped down on the couch. “He made up this whole ridiculous backstory that we were in high school sweethearts getting married after ten years together, and that we would’ve gotten hitched years ago but I got slapped with a random case of amnesia, and he had to wait for me to remember our epic romance.”
“So… us?” Bucky said, trying and failing to stifle his laughter.
“I – what? No!”
“You sure about that? Because that sounds like us.”
“No, it doesn’t!”
Bucky patted Steve’s arm sympathetically. “A little bit.”
Steve frowned. “It doesn’t,” he repeated, but it wasn’t nearly as confident as before.
“Steve,” Bucky said seriously as he put his phone down and turned to face him properly. “I’ve had one year to come to terms with what happened to us, and Tony’s got it exactly right.”
Steve huffed. “I hate him.”
“Yeah, he really doesn’t do subtle,” Bucky sighed. He ran a hand through his hair distractedly. “At least it’ll be over two months.”
“If it happened tomorrow, it still would be too late,” Steve said darkly. “He asked me to ask you to be the ring bearer five times today.”
Bucky’s grimace deepened. “I don’t suppose he meant for me to walk down the aisle on two feet?”
“He did mention that he had already rigged a dog collar that complimented the rubies set into Pepper’s engagement ring.” Steve pinched his thumb and forefinger half an inch apart. “I was this close to knocking him out into a pile of lilies. But it was a gorgeous display, and I didn’t want to offend the florist.”
Bucky pulled a face. “He does know I’m not a dog anymore, right? I’d scare off half the guests.”
“He likes the shock factor.”
“He would,” Bucky said with a shrug. “Does he have you booked tomorrow to?”
“Just a meeting with whoever is doing the linens,” Steve said as he pulled his phone out and checked his calendar.
“Linens?” Bucky asked with raised eyebrows.
“Tablecloths, napkins, that sort of thing,” Steve said distractedly as he began typing out an angry text to Tony.
“I didn’t know you needed someone in charge of that sort of thing,” Bucky said faintly as he picked up the remote and began flipping channels.
“You don’t,” Steve said without looking at him. “I’m telling Tony I’m not doing it. He can drag Clint or something. He must’ve gotten married to Laura at some point, right? He’s probably actually done this before.”
Bucky made a face. “I don’t know Laura, but I would have pegged Clint for a courthouse wedding kind of guy.”
Steve ran a tired hand down his face. “Probably,” he said morosely. “I don’t suppose Tony could be convinced to drop this whole thing and go to the courthouse tomorrow? He’s told me privately he actually doesn’t want a huge party.”
“SI is a huge company,” Bucky argued. “Tony and Pepper would offend a lot of people if they took the jet to Vegas. Plus, hell would freeze over before Pepper would allow an Elvis impersonator within a hundred miles of her wedding.”
Steve laughed. “I’ve seen their guest-list. There are five hundred people on there.”
A little taken aback, Bucky didn’t say anything for a moment. “That’s a lot of people,” was all he said, face blank.
Steve sank further into the couch, slumping a little now that most of his anger at Tony had drained out of him. “Yeah,” he said, and let the silence fall between them. Neither of them did well in crowds anymore, Steve because he was too used to being alone save for several hundred trees, and Bucky because he was still suffering from leftover paranoia of strangers.
Bucky picked up the remote again and switched to a rerun of some 80s action movie. He raised his legs without tearing his eyes away from the screen and propped them up on Steve’s lap. Steve ran a hand down Bucky’s jean-clad thigh, not looking to start anything, just enjoying the feeling of Bucky next to him. Bucky met his eyes briefly, his mouth quirking up into a smile. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” Steve breathed.
It still amazed him how he and Bucky fit together as a couple. There were times that Steve clung on a little too tight, monopolizing Bucky for days on end and unable to suppress his mostly irrational fear that Bucky would be taken from him. In turn, Bucky could be a little closed off when he couldn’t get out of his own head and required more alone time than Steve was sometimes willing to give. They found that when Bucky needed space and Steve couldn’t let Bucky out of his sight, they could compromise with Bucky brooding in their apartment and Steve up in the common areas sporadically tugging on the Bond to convince himself that Bucky really was okay. But otherwise, they fit together exactly as they did as best friends, just with more.
“What would you like?” Bucky’s hesitant voice cut through Steve’s thoughts.
“Like?” he repeated.
“If you get married,” Bucky said, meeting Steve’s confused gaze squarely. “Do you want five hundred of your closest friends around?”
“Buck, I maybe have ten friends in total,” Steve said honestly. “There’s no way I’d like any more than that. Smaller, even, would be ideal.”
Bucky nodded to himself.
Steve swallowed, flush creeping up his cheeks as he asked, “You?”
Bucky started, and then grinned. “Yeah, of course I’ll be there.”
Steve hit him lightly in the stomach. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Yeah, small sounds good.” Bucky groaned. “I – uh – we’re both on the same page, right?”
Steve snorted. “As much as you can be without outright saying anything.”
“Don’t tell Tony. He’ll be insufferable.”
Steve’s eyes narrowed. “Why’s that?”
“Because he’s been bugging me to ask you to marry me for months,” Bucky ground out. “Seemed to think he was doing you a favor, bullying me into proposing. He even bought a ring, presumptuous jackass. Don’t worry, I threw it back in his face. I told him that I’d pick out my own damn ring, and that patriotic gemstones were tacky. I still can’t believe he only found out your birthday was on the 4th last year.”
Steve buried his head in his hands.
“He threatened that he’d start dropping hints to you if I didn’t up my game,” Bucky added. “Guess I took too long. Sorry.”
Steve’s eyes widened in realization. “So that’s what he meant by the whole debacle at the florist?”
“Probably,” Bucky said, scowling. “Like I said, he wouldn’t know subtly if it smacked him in the face.”
Steve snorted. “Apparently neither would I.”
Bucky reached a hand to wrap around the back of Steve’s neck and pulled him in for a quick kiss. “That’s okay. We’re both pretty dense. It took us a whole damn decade to get together – and you know what they say about old dogs.”
“I don’t know,” Steve said casually, “I’ve definitely learned some new things in the past year.”
“Yeah, well I hope you did,” Bucky grumbled. “Seeing as I don’t have the right equipment for all of your old tricks.”
Steve punched him in the shoulder. “Hey, I know for a fact you enjoyed 90% of them.”
“Sure have,” Bucky said, licking his lips suggestively as he looked Steve up and down.
“I – uh, before we head to the bedroom,” Steve said, his blush returning in full force. “I – you want to get married? To me?”
Bucky’s gaze softened. “Yeah, I think I do.” He took Steve’s hand in his, thumb rubbing the bare band of skin on Steve’s third finger. “I haven’t gotten around to getting a real ring or anything, but if you want to take a trip down to the jeweler’s any time soon – or not soon, there’s no real rush – I wouldn’t say no.”
“Neither would I.” Steve got up, tugged Bucky to his feet, and led him deliberately to the bedroom.
Bucky grinned against Steve’s mouth as his hands undid the button of Steve’s jeans. Steve groaned as Bucky shoved him through the semi-open door and all but pushed him down on the bed. He let out an involuntary breath of air as Bucky crawled over him and began to suck what was probably going to be an impressive hickey into the side of neck at the hinge of his jaw. “Love you,” he gasped.
Bucky pulled back, lips a little swollen. He was already shucking out of his pants with one hand, but his reverent gaze didn’t leave Steve’s face. “I love you too,” he said, “More than anything.”
Steve swallowed. “Want to do something impulsive?”
“I – I still need prep for that,” Bucky said, pulling a face.
Steve laughed, high and breathy. “No, jerk. Do you want to really get back at Tony for everything?”
Bucky kicked his pants away and glared at Steve. “You have to mention Tony? Now?”
Steve grimaced. “Shut up. You want to hear my idea or not?”
Bucky sat back on his heels, his expression irritated. “If it doesn’t include sex loud enough to reach him in his penthouse, probably not.”
“You’re ruining it.”
“You ruined it first by talking about Tony just as I was about to pull my dick out,” Bucky shot back.
Steve bit his lip. “Look, do you want to go to the courthouse this weekend?”
Bucky blinked at him. “I don’t have rings,” he said after a moment.
Steve smiled as he reached up to pull Bucky back down, whispering, “Don’t worry. I’ve got ‘em.”