Work Text:
When Bucky got his memories back, there were a lot of things in his head that he had trouble sorting through. Even sitting in therapy he had trouble sorting through it. He worked his way through his amends, actually making amends instead of just apologizing, the way Sam suggested with his tough love, and he felt better about his time as the Winter Soldier. He had fewer nightmares, but he still had them. The memories he had trouble sorting through were about Steve.
He knew that Steve was a good man, a great man even, but memories from when they were kids made him feel a bit sick at the thought of him. Kids on the internet kept talking about how sad he must be that Steve was gone, but Bucky just felt relieved. He loved Steve. Steve loved him. There’s just something about the friendship they had growing up that made Bucky glad that all his attempts at dating had fallen through.
“You’re thinking about something,” Dr. Raynor said at the start of their session.
She had grown to be able to read what each of Bucky’s stares meant, especially after he had the weight lifted off of him with his amends and the business with the flagsmashers. “Steve had a tendency of hitting people,” he blurted. “Always started fights when we were kids. “He was so small and fragile, but he had a lot of pent-up anger. Very righteous about the injustices in the world.”
Dr. Raynor nodded, and Bucky could tell that she wanted to write this down in her stupid fucking notebook. “That continued when he became Captain America, yes?”
“Yeah,” Bucky looked at the wall behind Dr. Raynor. He couldn’t look out the window and see the people going about their business. He had to look at the wall. “I loved him a lot,” he said. “A bit too much, I think.”
“What do you mean?” Dr. Raynor tilted her head and crossed her legs. She seemed slightly thrown off by that. Bucky had never used the word love in her room, except to be sarcastic. “Is this about the nature of that love?”
“Kind of,” he said. He looked down at his lap, his metal hand picking at the skin on the fingers of his flesh hand. “He’d hit me sometimes. We were kids, and he’d hit me and kick me because he was so angry at the world, and I let him. Then we got a bit older and he’d kiss it better. See, he was so small it didn’t do much damage but I’d still flinch when he did it. But, when we were older he’d kiss me and tell me he loved me and he was sorry for hitting me. Treated me like my Pa did my Ma.”
Dr. Raynor subtly took a deep breath and nodded. She sat up straighter. “Do you feel that you thought this was okay for him to do because it was reflective of the relationship between your parents?”
“I hated my dad,” Bucky looked at Dr. Raynor. “He made Ma cry all the time, then he’d yell at her for crying because he smacked her so hard she was bleedin’.” Dr. Raynor met his eyes and Bucky felt tears welling up. “But Steve, he was better than my dad. He hit me less when we were having sex. He was so happy we were going steady that he didn’t have to hit me so much.”
“But he still hit you.”
Bucky nodded. “We weren’t even in high school when it started,” he said. “The last time we slept together was the night before I shipped out for the war.”
“When you came back to yourself after you were freed from HYDRA, how did you feel about Steve?”
Bucky shrugged and looked at the wall again. “I tried to stay away, but he kept looking for me,” he said. “He showed up in my apartment in Bucharest - full Captain America gear - and I played dumb. I thought he was gonna hit me for running from him, for staying away. I didn’t remember everything, but I remembered that. It’s like I heard the voice at the museum say we were friends on the schoolyard and I remembered him shoving me into the dirt and kicking me in the gut because some other kid called him a queer.”
Dr. Raynor nodded, listening attentively. “How do you feel now?”
“What do you mean?” He looked at her with furrowed brows.
She shrugged and twirled the pen in her hand. “Well, you’ve had time and space now that he’s gone. You’re working with the new Captain America, who you met through Steve, and you live in a time period where homosexuality is accepted but spousal abuse is not.”
Bucky shifted in his seat. He shook his head and sat up straight. “That wasn’t spousal abuse, though. Sure, we were together and he hurt me, but it. It wasn’t like that. Steve was a good man.”
“Steve may have done great things, fought for good causes, but that doesn’t change the fact that he beat you while you were in a sexual relationship,” Dr. Raynor’s words were simple and to the point. “You hate your father for what he did to your mother, you compare what Steve did to you to that relationship, but you find it difficult to recognize that Steve abused you.”
Bucky rubbed his forehead and leaned forward. “I hit him too, sometimes though.”
Dr. Raynor sighed and clicked her pen. She didn’t open the notebook, though. “Explain an incident where you hit Steve.”
“I was twelve, he was eleven, and necking in his bedroom with the door locked. He unbuttoned my pants, and I told him no ‘cause I just wasn’t in the mood. He unzipped my pants, and I told him to cut it out, that I was serious. Then, he uh. He put his hand on my dick, and I slapped him in the face. It wasn’t hard, his face only turned red because he was so angry.”
“You slapped him as a warning that you were serious about not being in the mood for sex,” Dr. Raynor summarized. Bucky nodded, and she clicked her pen again. “Usually, when you hit Steve, was it in response to him overstepping a boundary when you told him it multiple times or because he hit you first?” She asked. Bucky hesitantly nodded again. “Did he listen to the warning?”
Bucky shook his head. “He said he was doing me a favor.”
“So he had sexual contact with you despite you repeatedly telling him no?”
“We were going steady, though,” Bucky said before she could call it rape. “He wanted sex, I was supposed to give it to him.”
“When you wanted to have sex, but he didn’t, did you listen?” She raised her eyebrows pointedly.
Bucky sighed and looked out the window. “Yeah.”
“So you recognize that his actions were wrong, but you don’t condemn him,” Dr. Raynor looked at the clock. “Next week we’ll talk more about this. Okay? For now, I want you to talk to someone who knew Steve and I want you to confide in them if you are willing to share with them. If not, that’s okay. I just want you to hear what someone who knew him has to say about it.”
“Sam isn’t my therapist,” Bucky said. “I can’t use him for emotional labor,” he’d heard that term from Sam and Sarah both. He wasn’t sure if he was using it right.
Dr. Raynor clicked her pen again, and Bucky wanted nothing more than to grab it and snap it in half. “This isn’t emotional labor, this is confiding in a friend and seeking a trusted outside perspective. I didn’t know Steve, so you are less likely to understand my perspective, while you and Sam both cared deeply about him, you both knew him better than anyone else.”
Bucky went home to his apartment and sat on the floor. Alpine stretched, then made her way to him. She rubbed her little head on his thigh and purred when he pet her. Bucky thought about Dr. Raynor’s advice. He definitely understood where she was coming from. What Steve did to him wasn’t okay, and if someone else had told him their partner did that to him he would beat the fuck out of the abuser. He knew that, logically, but the fact that it was Steve made it difficult for Bucky to recognize it in his own situation.
Steve was so kindhearted, he cared so deeply. He cared much more than anyone else Bucky had ever met, except maybe Sam, so it was understandable for him to not know what to do with that care aside from striking. Sure, Sam didn’t do any of the things Steve did to Bucky, but they were from different times.
Bucky sighed and pulled out his phone. He sent Sam a text, asking if he could call him. Alpine climbed onto Bucky’s lap and curled up, closing her eyes as he scratched behind her ears with his metal hand. The phone rang, and Bucky answered.
“What’s this you wanted to talk about? You usually text if you wanna talk about something,” Sam’s voice sounded over the phone. Bucky could hear wind and cars, so he assumed Sam was driving.
Bucky shrugged as if Sam could see him. “I talked about something in therapy today, and Dr. Raynor suggested I talk to you about it because you knew Steve.”
Sam was quiet for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Is this a delayed reaction to him staying in the past? I got some issues with that, but I don’t think you wanna hear them.”
“I’m fine with him leaving,” Bucky said. “I feel better without him here.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Bucky was glad that they were in entirely different states. It was a lot easier to get the words out, and Bucky knew he’d never be able to bring himself to type them. He didn’t want a permanent record of it anywhere. “See,” he began, “Stevie and I used to date when we were younger, but he could get real mean sometimes. Didn’t like it when I said no.”
“Bucky…” Sam must be pulling his car over. Neither of them spoke for a solid minute. Then, all sounds of motion on Sam’s end of the call ended. “I think I’m gonna need a bit of elaboration on that, bud.”
Bucky leaned back, making sure not to jostle Alpine as he rested against his chair. “He’d hit me, and he wouldn’t listen when I told him I didn’t want to have sex.”
“So, he abused you.”
Hearing it from Sam caused Bucky to inhale sharply. He let out a slow breath and the tears finally came. “I love him, Sam. He hurt me so much and I love him still. But, I’m so glad to be away from him.”
“It’s just something you have to work through, man,” Sam said. “I’m glad you felt safe enough with me to tell me this, but I’m not sure what I can do.”
“I just needed to hear it from someone who knew him too,” Bucky shook his head and looked down at Alpine. “I’m crying but I’m petting my cat and holding my phone so I can’t wipe my tears.”
They both let out laughs at that, and Bucky inhaled sharply. Sam sighed, and Bucky could picture him looking around. “Do you want me to head up there?”
“No,” Bucky said, quickly. “No, I’m good. You don’t have to go out of your way to come up here and see me.”
“Do you want me to, though?”
“...Yeah.”
“Okay,” Sam said. “I can head up there tomorrow morning. Give you some time tonight to think, cuddle with your cat, and then I’ll be there for you.”
Bucky nodded. “Okay,” he moved his hand from Alpine, wiped it on his shirt to clean it of any cat hair, then switched his phone to that hand. He used his flesh hand to wipe the tears from his face. “What’s the problem you have with Steve staying in the past?” He asked.
“Well, Peggy was part of operation paperclip - recruiting Nazis for the American government - and I disagree fundamentally with that shit. Steve knew about it, but he decided to time travel and date a woman that was heavily involved in that. I didn’t think it reflected well on his morals,” Sam said. He paused for a moment, and Bucky could imagine the contemplating look on his face. “I guess it makes sense now, with what you told me. No one who does that shit can be that good of a person, no matter how much they try to be or how much we care about them.”
Bucky furrowed his brow and thought about it. “You’ve got a point, there.”
“I always do.”
“Yeah, yeah.”