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After surviving the raid on the train and nearly falling into a ravine (a memory that would keep him up nights for a long time), raiding a HYDRA base and narrowly avoiding getting trapped on the Valkyrie before its final flight to oblivion, Bucky’s unit had been sent back to the USA and been assigned to light duty until VJ day.
After being discharged from the Army, Bucky had returned to his family, who had been delighted to see him return in one piece. He decided to take a walk around the old neighborhood to clear his head, and figure out what he would do with his life.
Now that he no longer had to support Steve, Bucky was seriously thinking of taking advantage of the new GI Bill and going to college. He had always been interested in machinery; he could become an engineer. Howard Stark had promised him a job at Stark Industries, more out of a sense of obligation than friendship, but Bucky decided that he would take Stark up on his offer. Growing up in the great depression taught a man to take advantage of an opportunity regardless of the motive.
Bucky walked back home, pausing at the entrance to an alley. Yes, he was intimately familiar with that particular alley, especially the brick wall and garbage cans.
Staring at the alley, remembering the beating he had taken from the fighting Sullivans, Bucky had the strange thought that maybe the good old days, hadn’t been all that good.
Why had he gotten into that brawl anyway? Oh yeah, Steve. Of course, it had been Steve’s fault. It was always Steve’s fault, Bucky thought, recalling the countless times he’d had his ass handed to him by various Brooklyn toughs. How many times did I get pasted because Rogers decided to pick a fight? More to the point, why did I get involved? I had no beef with those guys. Bucky felt an unexpected and unwelcome sense of bitterness at those thoughts. Pushing them aside, he returned home.
It was nice to be home, Bucky thought later that evening as he settled into a comfortable armchair in his sister Rebecca’s living room. It had been great to see his old friends from his dockworker days again. How many rounds had they bought him? Even if he couldn’t get drunk like he used to it was still fun. Oh well, he’d never enjoyed hangovers anyhow.
So much had changed in the three years he’d been away from NYC. New buildings had gone up, new musicals were on Broadway, new movies in the theaters, new songs on the radio. He couldn’t wait to spend some of his back pay enjoying the sights. Best of all was the welcome from his family. He’d missed them all so much. But now he was here, back in Brooklyn where he belonged, back in the family home with his sisters and their children all assembled for the Barnes family reunion. The only fly in the ointment was Rebecca’s insistence on calling him ‘Jim’ instead of Bucky and the rest of the family had quickly followed suit.
Sure, he missed Steve, but Bucky had to admit he didn’t miss the endless worrying. To be honest, it was a relief knowing that whatever the future had in store for him, he didn’t have to be responsible for Steve any more. Bucky felt a stab of guilt at such heretical thoughts. How could I feel like this? Steve was my best friend. I owe him my life. Trying to make sense of his feelings, he mentioned those thoughts to his sister.
“Good! It’s about time you stopped hero-worshiping that jerk,” Rebecca said grinning.
Bucky was shocked speechless.
Seeing his reaction, Rebecca shrugged and said “Sorry Jim. Truth is, I never liked that guy, even when we were kids.”
“Wait, what!” Bucky said. “But why not?”
“Why not?” she snapped. I can think of plenty of reasons why I didn’t like him off the top of my head. You want to hear them? Not waiting for an answer, she continued, ticking each point off her fingers.
1) He was always dragging you into stupid fights. It was ridiculous how many times you came home with a black eye or a bloody nose because Mr. Idiot picked a fight with someone twice his size.
2) He was always expecting you to arrange dates for him, like it was your responsibility to get his ashes hauled. How many nice girls did you break up with because they couldn’t produce a friend for him? You could have been married years ago with kids of your own by now. He was a grown man, if he couldn’t get a girlfriend, it was on him to figure out why and fix the problem. And it’s not because he was short and sickly. I mean, that didn’t help, but what girl wants a fella who flies off the handle every time someone says the ‘wrong’ thing,” Rebecca said. “You’d be in constant terror that you’d say something he didn’t like and start whaling on you.” It wasn’t his looks; it was the giant chip on his shoulder.”
3) He was a moocher. Yeah, yeah, I know. Poor wittle Stevie couldn’t get a job. That’s a bunch of malarkey. Okay, he couldn’t work on the docks, but he could have taken the civil service test and gotten an office job with the city, or if he was so talented, he could have tried getting a job with as an artist with an ad agency. I hated seeing you so exhausted from working double shifts to pay for his medicine while His Nibs spent the day doodling.
“That’s not fair, Steve was too weak to work,” Bucky interjected.
“Funny how he had plenty of energy to get into fights, but when it came to getting a job and earning his keep, he was suddenly this sickly little guy, too frail to run a cash register or count money at a bank,” Rebecca replied caustically. She continued.
4) That stupid nickname. You want to know why I keep calling you Jim? It’s because you’re a grown man. Bucky’s a cute nickname for a seven-year-old, it’s ludicrous for anyone much over 12. It’s infantilizing. The fact he kept calling you that just shows me that he didn’t want you to grow up and change, maybe leave him behind.
5) “Finally, he turned you into his sidekick,” she said indignantly. “You, my big brother, my handsome, popular, smart brother was turned into hanger-on, an afterthought. Just some guy following Rogers around, getting a few scraps of his glory.
Bucky gaped at her. “That’s, that’s not fair,” he finally spluttered.
“He was pretty happy to put you in the sidekick role, wasn’t he?” Rebecca said.
“Come on, it was his turn,” Bucky replied.
She stared at him in disbelief. “What do you mean it was his turn? Him being popular for once didn’t mean you had to take a backseat. I think he was jealous of you all along.”
Memories of that first night back in England when he and Steve were at that pub flooded Bucky’s mind. He remembered how Steve had reveled in the attention he was getting from the crowd. He remembered Peggy Carter’s rudeness and the way Steve had gloated at the sight of Bucky being ignored by a woman for once. Okay, Steve had rubbed his nose in it, “but he risked his life to save me,” Bucky said, his head whirling with emotion.
“Yeah, he did. But even that was pretty self-serving,” Rebecca said. Seeing her brother’s stricken expression, she continued in a gentler voice. “Look Jim, I’m not saying he didn’t genuinely want to rescue you, but you have to admit he benefited himself pretty well by that. He was nothing more than a glorified mascot prancing around on a stage in tights, a propaganda icon, a joke. No intelligent person took him seriously. After the rescue he was a hero, a warrior. Everybody loved him. Then he was given a chance to do what he always wanted to do, namely fight. Don’t tell me that was at least part of his motivation.”
Bucky was silent. He remembered a story he’d heard about Steve being booed off the stage while being pelted with rotten fruit. Yeah, that must have stung. No wonder Steve was so eager to prove himself, Bucky thought.
“So, you finally wised up,” Rebecca said. “Don’t tell me you feel guilty about that.” She sighed. “Look Jim, I’m not saying Steve was a monster. It’s just that he wasn’t some great, golden hero, morally perfect, always doing the right thing for the right reason, noble and pure. The truth is he was just an ordinary human being, with the same kinds of neurosis and weakness that every other human has. He had good points too, and I’ll admit that life dealt him a bad hand with all the health problems, and his mother dying so young. It’s just that putting him on a pedestal and feeling bad because you don’t measure up to that imaginary standard is ridiculous.”
Bucky smiled ruefully, “You got a point there,” he said. He yawned, suddenly feeling tired. “Well, I’m going to bed. I have a lot planned for tomorrow,” he said.
“Good idea,” Rebecca replied. “Time to leave the past behind and focus on the future.”