Work Text:
“No, Tony. We are not going to set off fireworks on campus.”
“Aw, c’mon. It’ll be fun!”
“Consider the fact, Tony,” Pepper says, “that about, say, thirty per cent of our powered students suffer from some form of PTSD. And of that number, maybe fifty percent of them have some form of trauma stemming from gun-related violence. We have students who fought in wars, Tony. Did you know fireworks remind many combat veterans of gunfire?”
“But there’s a shooting range on campus –”
“Yes, one that’s far away from the rest of the school and is a place where people will anticipate hearing gun shots –”
“But –”
“No. No fireworks.”
Their voices peter out as they wander further into the Archives, Tony badgering the frazzled student administrator every step of the way.
“What’re Tony and Pepper arguing about?” Clint asks, dropping into his seat. He’s only on campus to sort out more paperwork before officially enrolling at the school – something about training a replacement and refusing to leave his dog behind.
“Somethin’ ‘bout fireworks?” Bucky shrugs – he hadn’t been paying much attention. There are better things to be worried about. Like finding a rhyme scheme for his latest song – and why Crossbones is trying to check out a book about makeshift explosives and chemical detonators. What are the Thunderbolts getting up to?
Eh, he decides. If Fury can trust Rumlow with leadership of a team of reformed supervillains, he can sort out this mess on his own.
“Fourth of July, Barnes,” Natasha says, amused. “Pepper’s on the committee overseeing campus celebrations. When did you last check your calendar?”
“That time of year already?” Bucky frowns. Something niggles at the back of his mind. Something about the date – something important.
“You joined us near the end of May, James,” she says, not unkindly.
Clint says something else – Bucky can see his lips move – but he’s too preoccupied with his thoughts. What’s so important about the Fourth of July?
Fourth of July –
Fourth of –
Shit.
Steve’s birthday.
“Aw, fuck,” he mutters. Standing, he gathers his notebooks into a bag and leaves.
(In the aftermath of his departure, Clint blinks owlishly and turns to Natasha. “Was it something I said?”)
*
Group: protect steve rogers 2k16
[Bucky Barnes, 12.15pm] what r u getting steve for his bday
[Carter Junior, 12.17pm] copies of stuff from aunt peggy’s photo album!!!
[Chocolachinno, 12.17pm] WHAT?
[Carter Junior, 12.17pm] mum found the albums last month in aunt peggy’s attic
[Carter Junior, 12.17pm] I got permission to make copies! It’s a joint gift!!
[Carter Junior, 12.17pm] also an invite to visit aunt peggy at term break
[Chocolachinno, 12.18pm] oh my god how do any of us beat that
[Chocolachinno, 12.18pm] how can you do this to us Carter???????
[Chocolachinno, 12.18pm] et tu brute???????
[Carter Junior, 12.18pm] why sam? what did you get?
[Chocolachinno, 12.18pm] REINFORCED
[Chocolachinno, 12.18pm] EXERCISE
[Chocolachinno, 12.18pm] EQUIPMENT
[Chocolachinno, 12.18pm] I’M TAKING IT ALL BACK TO THE SHOP NOW OF COURSE
[Carter Junior, 12.18pm] >prayerhands.sticker
[Carter Junior, 12.18pm] what about you barnes?
[Bucky Barnes, 12.20pm] pal
[Bucky Barnes, 12.20pm] up until a month ago
[Bucky Barnes, 12.20pm] i didn’t even know my own name
[Chocolachinno, 12.20pm] you saying you forgot his birthday?
[Carter Junior, 12.20pm] >prayerhands.sticker
[Chocolachinno, 12.20pm] it’s on the 4th of July
[Chocolachinno, 12.20pm] how cld you forget his birthday
[Bucky Barnes, 12.20pm] i didn’t even know my own nationality! i’m p sure they told me i was russian at one pt!
[Bucky Barnes, 12.20pm] what the fuck do i get for steve?
[Chocolachinno, 12.21pm] barnes
[Chocolachinno, 12.21pm] the man loves you
[Chocolachinno, 12.21pm] you could give him a cheap card and he’d look at you like you hung the moon
[Chocolachinno, 12.21pm] just don’t write him a song and you’re set for life man
[Bucky Barnes, 12.21pm] _|_
*
Bucky wrestles with himself before ultimately deciding to go straight to the source of his frustrations.
“Steve,” he demands, dropping his bag on the table. “What d’you want for your birthday?”
At the question, the blond perks up from his History textbook, a bright smile lighting up his face. “You remembered?”
“Just barely,” he says, frazzled. “I got like two weeks to get something put together, Steve. What do you want?”
“I got you back, Buck,” Steve points out, still grinning dopily. “That’s the best present I could ask for.”
Bucky snorts. “Don’t be a punk, Rogers. Just you wait, when my birthday rolls around you’re gonna pull out all the stops and then I’m gonna feel guilty as shit.”
Steve says nothing. The guilty punk.
“You really don’t gotta do anything,” he insists. “You know me, Buck. I’d be happy with a chocolate bar.”
“You don’t gotta do anything, Buck,” Steve sighs. There’s a streak of charcoal smeared under his right eye from his latest lesson at the art school. Bucky’s fingers itch to wipe his face clean – but they’re in public. He contents himself with waiting for the privacy of their shared apartment.
“Y’know I can’t do that,” he teases, slinging an arm round his shoulders. “Nothin’ but the best for my best guy.”
“That might’ve flown in the ‘30s, but not anymore. We’ve got seventy years of back pay and interest to burn through – inflation-adjusted, Pepper tells me. I can afford to get you a present or two, Steve.” He smiles. “Nothing but the best for my best guy.”
The blond flushes. Bucky revels in this small victory.
“In that case,” Steve comments blandly, “where would the fun in giving away the answer be?”
“You’re a real ass, Rogers,” he mutters. “Don’t see how your teammates haven’t seen through your golden boy act yet.”
Steve smirks at him and returns to his notes.
Bucky wouldn’t have things any other way.
*
Group: protect steve rogers 2k16
[Chocolachinno, 7.41pm] I GOT STEVE ART SUPPLIES
[Bucky Barnes, 7.41pm] FUCK
[Bucky Barnes, 7.41pm] YOU
[Bucky Barnes, 7.41pm] WILSON
[Bucky Barnes, 7.41pm] !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
[Chocolachinno, 7.41pm] why barnes
[Chocolachinno, 7.41pm] were /you/ getting him art supplies
[Chocolachinno, 7.41pm] EAT MY DUST
[Bucky Barnes, 7.41pm] _|_ _|_ _|_ _|_
[Chocolachinno, 7.41pm] :DDDDDD
[Chocolachinno, 7.41pm] ON YOUR FUCKING LEFT
[Bucky Barnes, 7.41pm] _|_ _|_ _|_ _|_ _|_ _|_ _|_ _|_ _|_ _|_ _|_ _|_
[Carter Junior, 8.09pm] >prayerhands.sticker
*
It takes Bucky another week to settle on his gift. That’s a week of frantic texting and harried conversations with his schoolmates. He doesn’t hit upon his idea until he’s sitting in a lecture hall rummaging for his notes and coming up with a tattered old notebook from HYDRA School instead. He curses under his breath and bums some paper from Natasha, but the faded red book lingers in his thoughts when class is dismissed and he’s picking his way back to his shared dorm room. He carries it around with him out of habit, really, leftover from his time at HYDRA School. Nobody trusted the enforcers, not even the Soldier.
Which gets him thinking about the stack of notebooks sitting on his shelf.
Oh, he thinks. Well, there’s an idea.
*
The Fourth of July rolls around, as it is wont to do, and Steve is caught up in campus festivities. Because he’s Captain America. Bucky watches from the side lines as he steps up to the podium to make a speech, faintly recalls entire weeks lost to filming propaganda videos, and thanks his lucky stars that he’s not included this time round.
The opening ceremony – accompanied by a distinct absence of fireworks – finally draws to an end. Bucky shadows Steve as he mingles with the student body, samples the festival stalls set up in the quad, and finally, finally, heads back to their dorm.
“Hey, you,” Steve says, when he catches up to him.
“Hey,” he answers, grinning. “Happy birthday, Steve.”
*
They chat about their day all the way back to Avengers Hall. Steve lists the presents he’s received from his classmates – “Oh, and Jan’s designing new combat fatigues, which should be interesting, I guess? Anything is better than what I had to wear for the propaganda stuff, but anyway –” – while Bucky listens attentively and tries not to fret.
He waits until they get back to their own room to pull out the package wrapped in brown paper hidden at the bottom of his closet.
“Ta-dah,” he grins, presenting it to Steve with a flourish.
“Aw, Buck,” Steve deadpans, eyes bright with mischief, “you shouldn’t have.”
But he accepts it with a smile just this side of shy, and it feels right. Something settles in Bucky’s ribcage – he likes this. It feels right, feels safe. Makes him feel at ease.
Steve carefully pries the layers of wrapping paper apart to reveal the weathered notebook nestled within.
“So, first I gotta talk about the song writing,” Bucky says, worrying his lower lip. “It started when they gave me this arm. It’s not the first I’ve had,” he tacks on, when Steve’s brow furrows. “But it’s the model which has had the most dexterity, so far. So the scientists at HYDRA, right, they knew that theoretically I should have fine motor control in the new arm, but I hadn’t had to use those skills in my left arm in like, decades.”
Steve’s eyes grow suspiciously watery. Fuck.
“So they started me on the guitar,” he continues, hurriedly. “I broke a lot of guitars in those early days. Too used to using the arm as a battering ram.”
Steve sniffles. Fuck.
“By then I’d started writing down my thoughts and memories and stuff in notebooks to keep my head straight, because of the wipes – shit.” He grimaces. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Just. Open it, will you?”
Bucky had gone through every single one of his notebooks to find the right one to give Steve. This one is blue – dark blue – and he’d done his best to keep this book in particular well-hidden. He watches now as Steve sets aside the plain wrapping paper and flips the book open.
*
end of the line
with you ‘til the end of the line
?
I’m with you ‘til the end of the line?
*
I remember a small man. Blond hair. Thin. Blue eyes. Always sick. Sad, sometimes. Mostly angry.
I don’t know his name.
*
winter cold ice
Winter is horrible. He’s always sick in winter. Hard to keep him warm. He needs to be warm. To be safe. This is important
why
*
football
baseball?
playing football?
going to baseball games?
??
*
“It’s a memory bank,” Steve whispers, tears welling up in his eyes. “It’s – Bucky, I –”
“There’re song lyrics in there somewhere, too,” he warns. “Don’t judge me, okay?”
*
“‘No one is better than Captain America’?” Steve snickers.
“Steve.”
“That’s cute, Buck,” he teases. “Even when you were brainwashed you thought I was the bee’s knees.”
“Steve.”
*
Steve alternates between snickering and surreptitiously wiping his eyes until he reaches the last few pages of the book.
“Frozen in the Winters of Our Past,” he reads, and raises an eyebrow.
“I’m just gonna be over here, smothering myself with the blanket,” says Bucky. “Let me know when you’re done.”
He dives under the blanket and busies himself with picking new titles for his old compositions. He’s pretty sure he’d been high – as the Soldier – when he’d picked that title for the song. Bucky is proud of the melody he’d composed, and the song was chockful of emotional impact, but. That title.
Steve is suspiciously quiet.
That can’t bode well.
“Steve?”
“Buck,” he chokes out. “This – This song – The lyrics –”
“I just wanted you to know that – even if I forget again – some part of me is always going to – remember?” He pauses and mentally plays back that last line. “That sounded better in my head. Honest. I swear to god – Steve?”
Beneath the shelter of his blanket, Bucky can just about pick out the sound of Steve gently setting the book aside. Then there are footsteps, and then Steve is tugging the blanket off and pulling him into a hug.
“Bucky Barnes, you sap,” he sniffles into his neck. “You ridiculous sap.”
“But I’m your sap,” he teases. “Right, Stevie?”
The blond swats his shoulder, but then he pulls back and presses a soft kiss to his lips, so Bucky supposes everything is okay.
*
Group: protect steve rogers 2k16
[Chocolachinno, 8.15am] you had one job barnes
[Chocolachinno, 8.15am] I specifically told you not to write him a song
[Chocolachinno, 8.15am] so what did you do?
[Chocolachinno, 8.15am] you wrote him an ALBUM of songs
[Bucky Barnes, 10.18am] in my defence i wrote those a long time ago
[Bucky Barnes, 10.18am] like, hydra sch long ago
[Bucky Barnes, 10.18am] and u didnt say album so
[Carter Junior, 10.20am] aww
[Carter Junior, 10.20am] that’s so sweet
[Chocolachinno, 10.20am] it’s
[Chocolachinno, 10.20am] /disgusting/
[Bucky Barnes, 10.21am] _|_
[Bucky Barnes, 10.21am] ur just sore my gift is better than ur art supplies
[Chocolachinno, 10.21am] _|_
[Bucky Barnes, 10.21am] _|_ _|_ _|_
[Chocolachinno, 10.21am] _|_ _|_ _|_ _|_ _|_ _|_
