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“So, did you have a soulmate? Back in the 1940s?” Dick asks curiously. “Or, wait, how old were you exactly when you were Captain America’s sidekick?”
“I was sixteen when he recruited me,” Bucky says quietly.
Dick whistles slowly. “Old man. Bruce had me on patrols before I hit double digits.”
Bucky doesn’t comment, although he privately agrees with the Avengers’ criticism that Bruce Wayne is irresponsible, at best, for recruiting his Robins so young. Even the Champions are all at least high schoolers, and they weren’t recruited by anyone.
“Did you get your soulmark before you fell off the plane?” Dick persists. Bucky might be annoyed if it was anyone else, but Dick manages to be charming even when he’s asking rude questions.
“I did, yeah.”
There’s a twinge at Bucky’s shoulder, his left one, where he remembers his soulmark appearing on his eighteenth birthday, a red chevron-like shape that no one in the Invaders recognized. Steve said it just meant he hadn’t met them yet, which certainly wasn’t surprising, since Bucky was all of eighteen years old and fighting in a war on another continent. He hadn’t met anyone with a matching mark before losing his arm, either.
Dick notices the way Bucky is rubbing at his arm, eyes widening as he puts the pieces together. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.
“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Bucky waves his hand dismissively. “It was almost eighty years ago. I expect they’re long gone, and probably better off. It wasn’t uncommon, back then, to never meet your match. We didn’t have the databases like now.” And Bucky’s mark had never been registered on paper with the Army, since he wasn’t technically a soldier. He’s not sure he would even recognize it now. Although Steve might remember it well enough to sketch it, if Bucky is willing to endure the inevitable outpouring of “support” that will follow.
“Still, that’s…rough.” Dick blows out a breath, watching the screen for a moment. The Gotham City Knights are still losing. “Jason never got his. He seems to think it’s because he never had a soul, but Bruce thinks it’s because of the Lazarus Pit. He was too young, when he went in, and then after he came out…” Dick shivers. “He’d kill me for telling you that. But you should know, you’re not the only one who’s lost theirs.”
Bucky feels a rush of empathy for Dick’s adoptive brother. He knows all too well the feelings associated with not having a soulmark, the self-doubt, the belief that he isn’t worthy of a soulmate, the fear that he may not have a soul. It doesn’t matter how many people in your life insist that, of course you have a soul, of course you have a soulmate. Those thoughts burrow below blank skin and set up residence.
“I feel like I should kill you for telling me that,” Bucky says instead.
Dick grimaces and grabs for his beer. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Just, if you ever meet him, don’t ask about his soulmark.”
Bucky sighs and looks at the ceiling. “That’s not a topic I typically bring up. In fact, you were the one who asked me.”
“I know. And I know better.” Dick shrinks further into his couch cushions, staring fixedly at the tv. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
“I think you’re confusing me with your brother, but thanks.” Bucky grabs for his own beer. “Your hockey team sucks, by the way.”
“Do not let anyone in my family hear that. Even if it’s true.”
The Gotham City Knights are on a losing streak. Bucky doesn’t even follow hockey, but he still knows this because he’s watched three of their last four games from Dick Grayson’s apartment. Bucky isn’t sure if Dick actually follows hockey, either; it might have just been a convenient excuse to invite him over after realizing Bucky knows his identities.
Bucky still shakes his head at that. It wasn’t difficult by any measure to figure out that Nightwing and Dick Grayson were the same person. Although it helped that Bucky already knew Batman’s identity, which again, wasn’t hard to piece together. He suspects the Rogues Gallery in Gotham just lets him pretend they don’t know that Bruce Wayne is the person who keeps locking them up. It’s probably because he just locks them up in a minimum-security facility, that they go along with the charade. If they were being held on the Raft, like in Manhattan, it might be a very different story.
But still, the utter shock he’d delivered by greeting Nightwing as “Grayson” had nearly knocked the vigilante over. Not that Bucky wouldn’t have caught him, but they were on a rooftop when it happened. Bucky was on a stakeout in Bludhaven when Nightwing dropped in. Once Dick realized that not only did Bucky know who he was, but also that he had no intention of disclosing it to anyone else, he’d invited Bucky over to watch the game. And then another one. And so on.
“It’s just nice not having to keep both sides of me separate,” Dick explains, when asked. “The rest of my family is back in Gotham.”
“That’s a thirty minute drive, even if you follow the speed limits,” Bucky points out.
Dick sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “Yeah. But I have a quicker response time if Nightwing is needed here.”
Bucky nods in agreement. “Okay. That’s fair.” He takes a long pull of his beer. “Your hockey team still sucks.”
Dick laughs. “Like the Islanders are doing any better? Or, wait. I never asked, do you even like hockey?”
“It’s one of the better sports to watch,” Bucky answers. “And I appreciate the invitation anyway. I’d rather spend time here, than be subjected to another of Steve’s pep talks. It doesn’t matter how much I’ve accomplished, he still seems to think I need guidance.” It wouldn’t bother him so much, the suggestions about taking classes or volunteer work, or even the general wellness checks under the guise of I was just in the neighborhood, if it weren’t for the fact that Steve still questions every decision Bucky makes. It turns all appearance of care into a performance, and Bucky got over that decades ago.
Something must show on his face, because Dick nudges him. “You know I have one of those, too, right?”
The reasons why Dick would rather stay in Bludhaven than make a short drive home suddenly snap into focus.
“Do you even like hockey?” Bucky asks, changing the subject.
“It’s one of the better sports to watch,” Dick replies with a wry grin.
They turn their attention back to the game, both wincing when a shot goes comically wide. The Knights’ losing streak is clearly going to continue.
“Your team really sucks.”