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"What the hell were you thinking?!" He could tell Steve was mad-- livid, even. He winced as he felt more than saw the bruises forming all over his body.
"You could've gotten out. I did everything and all you had to do was to slip out and take off. You had everything you needed to take us out," to take me out, Steve's unspoken words rang in Bucky's ear and it felt like it's going to bleed just hearing those words.
Thirteen weeks ago he would've taken the opportunity, the golden moment for his career, and be the one to bring down the biggest mob in the eastern seaboard. But thirteen weeks ago he wasn't in this situation and in this emotional state. Thirteen weeks ago he could've put a bullet in the head of the man in front of him easy. Now he couldn't even bear the thought of holding Steve at gunpoint.
"I had a plan, Steve." He heard the other man scoff.
"Right. Did you not even think for a second how stupid your plan is, Buck?"
"It worked didn't it?" He wished Steve would just stop pacing the room like an agitated wild animal. He took the ottoman at the foot of the bed awhile ago, legs giving out after the adrenaline wore off post the confrontation that happened just under two hours ago.
"How long were you planning this?" Steve looked at him expecting the worst. And that... that kinda hurts.
"A while." He looked at his hands, scratched and rugged from the scuffle.
"How long, Buck?"
"Not long after," you found out, Steve's eyes lost the temperamental edge. It wasn't long ago since Steve found out he was a fed, and they almost didn't make it. Even now, Bucky still wonders how he was able to keep himself intact and Steve far from disemboweling him from the betrayal. But they talked. A lot. And he allowed Steve the punches. A lot. And then he woke up the next day warmed under the cocoon of Steve's arms. And that was that. There was an unspoken understanding from that moment on of what they were and where they stand with each other. At least for that moment.
But more often than not Bucky walks around the compound wary of what might happen if things went sideways on him. It's like he's just waiting for the other shoe to drop, that Steve would slip and everyone finds out about his background and he'd be forced to leave and break cover or worse, fight for his life. And that's where it got complicated and things just went from holy shit to let's fuck this up cos we're all gonna end up dead anyway.
He can't break this cover-- no, he needs this cover to stay intact. Not to protect the case or the bureau, he is too jaded about this case at this point. He can't break his cover because he needed to protect Steve. Though Steve already knows he's with the bureau and still works with him on operations, there are a million and one other things that circumvent the case, the cover, the history-- his history, and if everyone finds out-- Steve will be forced to choose between him and his people. And he doesn't even want to know what would Steve's choice be. Doesn't think he can handle it.
"I don't understand, Buck. If you were already in this too deep a cover, why dig your grave much deeper than it already is? Why didn't you tell me about the other cell? About him?" He tried to get Steve to look at him, only when Steve turns around he couldn't handle to see those eyes that might express anything less than what he saw last night when the full moon rose.
"Because...", Bucky fiddled with the hem of his shirt.
"Because what, Buck?" He hears Steve's patience begin to wear thin.
"I was scared," he whispers.
"Of what?" Bucky looked out the window, trying to find the courage he had when he first deviced the plan. He had to go deeper, build another cover story, destroy his affiliation with the bureau completely. Let all except for a few select individuals in the bureau think that he went dark. That he did a full 180 and joined the very team of the man he killed four years ago, the team now led by that man's stepson.
"Bucky, you're scared of what?!"
He grimaced, "that you were gonna leave me."
Steve's pacing abruptly stopped and he could feel the heavy gaze turn to him. He knew it. He shouldn't have gone and opened his mouth and basically offered his insides garnished with all his feelings. This was worse. Why the fuck would he be scared about Steve leaving him for the group when his own fucking bleeding feelings would be enough to do so? His eyes begin to blur, fucking tears didn't even ask permission to go out.
"No, no, baby, no." Suddenly Steve's hands were on his face, cradling his fragile feelings as if it mattered..? He braved to look at Steve and was surprised to see hurt in those eyes.
"No, how could you even go there? No, baby, I'm not gonna leave you. Not for that, not for anything. You hear me, Buck?" Steve traces the tears he unknowingly shed.
"But what about--"
"Let me handle them, okay? But don't do that again, nobody here is worth your life," he was nodding, though he wasn't really sure if he agreed to any of those words.
"I'm not sure I'm worth all this, Steve," he muttered under his breath.
"Oh, you are, baby. You are." His arms went around Steve, face hiding in the warmth of Steve's embrace, and maybe he could be absolved after all.. even just by Steve.
Even by just the only person who matters.