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He sat in the stiff chair in the corner of the room, just watching everyone around him. He had been there for about 10 minutes, walking in after hearing Sam call down the hallway that he was about to start the movie. He hadn’t been specifically invited to join the rest of the group, but he also know that they had given up on formal invitations weeks ago, after he had never accepted them, choosing to stay in his room instead. He knew though, that he was always welcome to participate in any activity happening in the common area.
Sam was the only one who said anything to him, just a quick wave, and a “How’s it going, Bucky?”. Bucky just nodded, allowing one corner of his mouth to rise slightly into what could almost be perceived as a smile as he moved directly into the chair in the corner. It was the one no one ever sat in, preferring the squishy suede couches that seemed to suck you in, over the stiffer, smooth leather. It was in the back of the room, almost behind the couch like it had been shoved out of the way, with clear views of the entrance, TV and kitchen area.
Everyone else trickled into the room a few at a time, Natasha and Clint first, followed by Tony, and finally Steve. They all noticed him, each giving him a small smile or nod in recognition of his presence before arranging the various snacks and drinks they had brought on the coffee table and settling in to watch the movie. Soon enough, Sam had dimmed the lights and pressed play, and the others were focused on the movie, occasionally making crude comments or laughing out loud, and they seemed to forget that Bucky was there.
Bucky was confused by the opening scene of the movie, It was clearly during war, but it looked tropical, not the desert, so not their war. Somehow that made it ok, somehow. There was still shooting though, automatic rifles with their rhythmic put-put-put as they fired, men being dragged toward a chopper as they attempted to outrun death. It was starting to feel too familiar, even without the familiar sand dunes. Bucky tensed up, fingers gripping the arm of the chair, when someone laughed out loud. Steve, probably. It was a sharp “Ha!” followed by a snort, and it was enough to snap him back to reality, and the stiff chair in the corner that no one ever sat in.
It wasn’t real. He turned his attention back to the screen as a man who had previously been shown being shot what looked like 100 times and was still unbelievably standing, was now apparently about to die, telling the other man to hold his severed hand. It was so wrong, and terrible, fake and it occurred to him that that was probably the point, remembering when Steve used to draw comics about severed limbs while they were out in the middle of the desert, just waiting. It was a joke, an awful one he thought, but a joke nonetheless.
“Sometimes making terrible things funny helps people cope with them.” He remembered Steve telling him. He thought he understood it now, sort of. He was able to watch the rest of the movie without feeling panicked, even managed to smile a couple times as he started focusing on all the things about the movie, which was about making a war movie, that were blatantly wrong and didn’t fit what he remembered about reality.
He stood and walked back to his own room as the movies end credits started to roll. He didn’t look at anyone on the couch as he passed, knowing that they were all watching him go. He didn’t want any of them to talk to him though, and none did.
It was about 20 minutes later when there was a knock on the door. He froze on his bed, book in his lap and listened for footsteps. He didn’t hear any and sighed, waiting for the inevitable second knock and voice from the hall. With a sigh, he stood and opened the door for Steve the smallest bit and returned to the bed. Steve was the only one who never gave up and walked away after the first knock. After the night where Steve had stood at the door for nearly an hour, knocking gently every couple minutes, Bucky had started to let him in after just 2 knocks.
Bucky was looking toward the door, face blank as per usual, when Steve let himself the rest of the way into Bucky’s room and closed the door behind him. He sat on the corner of the bed, trying to avoid Bucky’s space too much while totally invading his space. Bucky just sighed and continued to stare at Steve, as if to wordlessly request that he just say what he came to say and get it over with.
“Did you like the movie?” Steve finally asked, smiling slightly at Bucky.
Bucky just shrugged. “It was fine.” he replied, voice quiet and flat.
“Ok, good” Steve replied with a nod. “So nothing about it was too, uh… hard to watch?” He continued awkwardly, trying to avoid asking directly if Bucky had felt triggered by any scenes.
Bucky just shook his head, nearly smirking at Steve’s awkwardness.
“I know it was all fake. They were doing everything wrong.” He told him. “Satire, right?”
“Thats right Buck, all just a bad joke.” Steve was smiling now.
Bucky was expecting some comment about how they were proud of him for choosing to socialize, even though he never spoke the whole time he was in the common area, but Steve never said anything. He didn’t need to.
“What are you reading?” Steve asked instead, looking at the open book on the bed next to Bucky.
Bucky just held the book up so Steve could read ‘Stranger in a Strange Land’ off the cover, and then held the book open in his lap instead of putting it back on the bed next to him. Clearly a dismissal, Steve noticed.
“I haven't read that yet, you’ll have to let me borrow it when you're done.” Steve said as he stood and left the room, mumbling something that sounded like good night as he slipped through the door.
Bucky stayed quiet and still, staring at the closed door for several minutes as warm tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. He knew how badly he was hurting Steve, and that Steve probably still loved him even if he didn’t say it out loud anymore, but it was better this way. Better if there was no physical contact anymore, and if they didn’t have real conversations, because Bucky wasn’t worth it. Steve deserved someone who wasn’t broken, and who wouldn’t break him, so Bucky pushed him away, because he loved him way too much to do anything else.
He lay awake the next morning listening to the others go about their morning routines. Everyone else seemed to have things to do and places to be almost everyday, and Bucky’s normal routine didn’t begin until everyone else had left the dormitory floor. It was less stressful that way, and the thin walls (by design) that allowed him to hear almost everything that happened on the top floor of the building so he still felt like he was part of the group.
It was the usual mumbled conversation, intermixed with the sound of cutlery hitting plates, and coffee cups plunking down on the countertops. Bucky imagined they were all half asleep and still in pajamas as they stumbled around like zombies at first, slowly waking and becoming more talkative as they managed to brew coffee, and make toast and eggs, or cereal, before heading back to their rooms.
He heard the familiar sound of feet down the hallway, and the clicks of doors opening and closing again. He listened to dresser drawers slide open and closed in Steve's room, on the other side of the wall behind his head. He could hear Steve the best, and it was too much for him sometimes, especially when he could hear Steve pacing and mumbling, ‘Bucky’ the only comprehensible word he could ever make out. A toilet flushed across the hall, and about a minute later he heard Natasha leave from the room on the other side of his, heels clicking louder and then quieter again as she walked passed his room, and through the door at the end of the hall leading to the stairwell. Sam and Steve were next to leave, greeting each other in the hallway and walking out to the stairs together.
He heard Clint next, but the stairwell door didn’t open, so Bucky guessed that he was filling up his travel coffee mug. Tony’s door opened again soon after Clint’s followed by muffled talking from the kitchen, and then the stairwell door again as Tony and Clint presumably left together. He stayed still another minute, continuing to listen, but aside from the constant hum of the air conditioner, it’s silent.
He gets up off the bed, slipping on a hoodie, pants and his boots, and heads out of the room toward the kitchen. He’s almost halfway down the hall when he realizes he made a mistake. Clint is sitting at the table, looking down at his phone as he rhythmically flicks upward at the screen. Bucky freezes, holding his breath as he stared at Clint, noticing he didn’t have his hearing aids in. He could run for it, back to his room to wait till it was clear again, and Clint wouldn’t hear the door, but he was hungry, and the smell of coffee was pretty tempting. Maybe it would be ok, he debated, Clint didn’t have his hearing aids in today, so he definitely wasn’t going to try to make Bucky talk like the others would. It was almost comforting to know he wasn’t the only one who didn’t like to talk when it wasn’t essential.
Bucky took a deep breath to focus himself again, thinking of it as a mission to acquire food and coffee, and continues walking into the kitchen past Clint, planning each step as he gets a mug to fill with coffee, and gets milk from the fridge, and sugar from the cupboard, and finds the plate of scrambled eggs and toast that Steve always leaves in the oven for him. He makes 2 trips from the kitchen to the table, telling himself that it’s fine that Clint is sitting in his usual chair, and eventually sits down to eat at the far end of the long table from where Clint is.
The table shakes slightly as Bucky begins to eat his eggs, and Clint snaps to attention, frantically looking around, and then visually relaxing as he notices Bucky at the end of the table, hand and fork full of eggs hovering in front of him as Bucky stares, frozen mid bite. Clint just smiles, and looks back to his phone, and Bucky’s focus is on his eggs again, on chewing and swallowing as he tries to relax and fight back the anxious nausea he’s feeling.
He watches Clint out of the corner of his eye, as he scrolls through facebook or something on his phone, and mindlessly drinks his coffee. Eventually he stands and walks past Bucky to the refrigerator and pulls out a box of pizza, which he takes to the couch to eat cold while playing Skyrim on the PS4 in the common area. Bucky slowly finishes his eggs, relieved to have made it through the whole plate and to no longer feel like he wants to throw up. He takes his plate and mug to the sink, rinsing them before putting them in the dishwasher, and begins to head back to his room.
He pauses near the couch though, looking at the screen and noticing that Clint’s character is at the top of a tower shooting at a dragon with a bow and arrow. He stands perfectly still and watches for a moment, and then glances over at the chair in the corner, remembering that it had been an ok spot to sit and watch the movie from. Before he can change his mind, Bucky changes his plan and goes to sit in the stiff leather chair, and watches as Clint guides an Elf in spiked armor through a fantasy land, shooting deer and rabbits, and occasionally dragons with his bow for fun, apparently.
Eventually, Clint pauses the game and heads back to the kitchen, tossing the now empty pizza box into the recycling bin and refilling his coffee mug. He’s on his way back to the couch when he spots Bucky sitting in the corner. Bucky immediately looks embarrassed, glancing awkwardly from Clint, to the screen, and then to the floor. Bucky doesn’t look up as he debates running back to his room, listening to Clint set his mug on the coffee table, and hears the fabric rustle as he settles back down on to the couch. He hears the game sounds again, and looks up to see that Clint isn’t playing again, but is instead kneeling backwards on the couch, elbows rested on the back, and is looking at Bucky with sad eyes. He holds the controller out to Bucky, offering a turn, but Bucky just looks scared, and frantically shakes his head no. Clint just shrugs and rolls his eyes as if to say ‘your loss’ and turns around to resume playing for real. Bucky sits still and watches Clint play for another hour, before standing and walking quickly back to his room.
He curls up on his bed, trying to breathe as tears runs down his cheeks and his chest tightens and burns. He knew it used to be different, before. He remembered a week somewhere in Afghanistan, hiding out in an abandoned house waiting on orders. A rich family had lived there, and seemed to have left in a hurry, leaving behind closets full of clothes, a pantry full of food, and best of all, there was a TV and game console in what was probably a child's bedroom. Bucky, Clint and Sam had spent the majority of their time playing video games, passing the controller as they died in whatever the current game was, and reminiscing about their childhoods, and the games they grew up on. He knew Clint remembers the jokes and barbs they spent the week throwing at each other, when Bucky was one of his closest friends. Bucky remembers well enough to know that it can’t be the same, and pushes Clint away because Clint deserves a friend that’s not broken, and saves Clint from the pain of having to deal with him, because he loves him too much to do anything else.
Three days later, Bucky is sitting on his bed reading, It’s getting close to dinner time, but he heard Tony on the phone ordering Thai for delivery, and knows that there will be some Chicken Pad Thai for him in the bag. He smells the food about 20 minutes later, and hears doors opening and closing and footsteps in the hall as everyone heads to the kitchen to eat. He continues to read, paying minimal attention to the sounds coming from the common area. He puts his book down once he hears a few doors close, and the TV turn on, and figured everyone had finished eating and left the table. He made his way down the hall to the kitchen, averting his eyes from the couch, where Sam, Natasha and Steve were sitting and watching TV, and goes straight for the brown paper bag on the kitchen counter.
He pulls out the one remaining box from the large bag, chicken pad thai as he expected, and takes it to his usual chair at the table. He eats mechanically, barely tasting as he chews and swallows, He can see Steve glancing over at him on occasion in his peripheral vision, but ignores him and stares straight ahead as he eats. He wishes he hadn’t noticed they were watching Firefly. He can’t look at Steve because he will remember the last weekend before they shipped out to Basic, marathoning the series while they cuddled on the couch, kissing more than watching. He finished his dinner as quickly as he could without choking, and then made his way back down the hall to his room as quickly as he could without running.
“Give him a minute.” He heard Sam say, probably to Steve, as entered his room, on the verge of tears for the 3rd time that week. He had to stop this, he couldn’t be weak like this and keep remembering, because it was never going to be like that again.
He sat on his bed, legs crossed, mind blank, stare directed toward the door. He had no idea how long he had sat without moving when Steve finally knocked. Bucky had been expecting it, but he still flinched and held his breath at the sound. There was another knock, and a defeated sounding call of “Hey, Bucky”, but bucky remained still. There’s no third knock this time, just a loud sigh, and shuffling footsteps followed by Steve's door opening and then closing again. He hears the bed creak for a moment, and then it's silent on Steve’s side of the wall.
There’s another knock, more distant this time. “Can I come in, Steve?” Sam asked.
“Yeah.” Steve groaned.
Steve’s door opened and closed again as Sam entered, and the bed creaked again, most likely from Sam climbing on to sit with Steve. As much as Bucky hated the idea of anyone else having his Steve, he realized he was ok with it being Sam, and had been surprisingly ok with seeing them hug in a way that looked like more than friends one day.
Bucky moved so his back was against the wall to Steve’s room, focusing on their conversation. He couldn't make out parts of it but he heard enough to get the general idea.
I thought he would be better by now.
He is, it’s going to take time.
I can’t deal with him being afraid of us like that.
I don’t think he’s afraid of us exactly, you know it was way different for him.
Then why does he look at me like that?
We don’t know exactly what they told him, and he won’t tell us what they did, but whatever kind of torture they inflicted, and however they tried to brainwash him, probably focused on keeping him isolated, and told he’s different.
I know but, it’s like living with a fucking ghost sometimes.
Bucky couldn’t handle it anymore. He practically leapt off the bed and ran down the hall to the stairway, and up to the roof. Someone had made it nice up here, with a brick patio, grill, and outdoor furniture. He laid back on one of the lawnchairs, struggling to make out the stars through the light pollution of Manhattan.
He heard the door to the stairwell open, and was surprised when it was Tony who stepped through the door and not Sam. He walked over and sat down at the end of another chair, slightly in front of Bucky.
“I’m just going to sit here and talk for a bit.” Tony announced, rather factually. “I’ll keep looking this way though, so you can keep up with the spy routine and sit there freakishly still and listen, and if you need to run away after, I won’t chase you
“I keep going back to the idea that I should have stayed with Rhodey instead of insisting on riding with you, Steve and Nat in the ‘Fun Vee’. According to Rhodey, it would have kept me out of this whole mess, but then I probably would have never found out the truth. Obie would still be selling Stark weapons to the enemy, and I would still be ignoring my company to spend my life partying instead.
“We thought the worst day was when they took you away. They pulled you out to be tortured because they thought I wasn’t building the weapon they wanted. They chained Nat and I to the workbench and assigned new guards to watch over our shoulders, and got Sam, Clint and Steve to work as slaves, digging another room into the cave, threatening to whip them when they stopped digging, or dug too slow. I’m just glad Sam and I were able to get the arc reactor working before they chained us all up and i had to get it installed without a medic. It was hard work, exhausting for all of us, but we could still hear you cursing them out, and we knew you were ok.
“We got a little worried when the stream of insults and swears you were directing at them became more raw screaming, and nothing we heard from the area you were being held in was coherent, but we knew that you were still alive. It was when the screaming stopped, and it was quiet that we got really worried. No one said it out loud, but we hoped the silence meant you were dead, especially after the day they took Clint to torture instead, beating him so hard he came back deaf with bleeding ears. We didn’t want to think that it meant they had finally broken you.
“There were rumors among the guards that you had become their favorite new assassin, and had killed Americans for them. They also talked about how you had stopped talking, and started following orders. They just had to say Steve’s name whenever you started fighting back, and you would behave, ready to comply again. None of the guards ever figured out that Steve understood their language.
“I don’t know if you remember when they gave you back to us, but I can’t believe you were still alive at that point. It was like they were done with you and returned you broken for us to deal with fixing. You somehow had the strength to fight us and try to get away when we tried to help, especially if we tried to touch the arm. Took all of us to hold you down so Sam could bandage you up and stop the bleeding. You freaked out the worst when Steve went near you. Luckily, Nat and I were almost done, and it was only 2 days before i was able to blow the place and escape, and a day after than before Rhodey found me with a rescue team, and we got the rest of you out.
“Point is, we all ended up a little broken in there, we all lost something, and we are all still healing. I know that you already know most of what I just said, and that you read all the reports, but I think to really heal we need to have a clear idea of what we are healing from. We are all still healing from what they did to YOU. We were tortured by hearing your screams, and then your silence, and we still are. No one is going to argue that you are not broken, but It doesn’t mean that none of us need you still. You deserve to be ok, we all deserve to have you ok again. I guess that makes you Humpty Dumpty, and we’re all the king's men, or something.”
Tony’s voice faltered as he finished his speech. He sat still looking out across the city, sniffling and wiping at his eyes occasionally. He wasn’t trying to hide that he was crying. Bucky felt like he should be crying also, but the tears weren’t coming this time, he just felt numb. He surprised himself by sitting up, and moving to the other chair so that he was sitting behind Tony, right side nearly touching Tony’s back at 90 degrees. He reached out with his hand toward Tony’s, fingers grazing the back of his hand when Tony turned his hand over to grab Bucky’s entwining their fingers together and squeezed. There was so much he wanted to tell Tony, but right now, this was all he could give.
Eventually, after sitting on the roof in silence, like fucking statues for who the hell knew how long, Bucky pulled his hand away and walked across the roof to the stairwell. Tony counted to 3 before looking toward Bucky who was a few steps from the door by then, and was relieved to see that he wasn’t running.
Bucky paused outside Steve’s door, he didn’t hear any talking from Steve’s room, and the only snoring going on was coming from Sam across the hall, so he assumed that Steve was awake and alone, probably reading. He knocked on the door, and nearly panicked almost immediately. He had decided to abort and run for his room, before Tony came down the stairs, or worse, Steve opened the door. It was getting difficult to keep pushing them away, but he had to keep them safe, he couldn’t let them be hurt, especially not by him. He had his hand on his doorknob, when he heard the click of Steve’s door opening behind him.
“Bucky?” Steve asked, sounding like he was trying really hard to not sound surprised.
Bucky just pushed his door open and jumped onto the bed, sitting cross legged near the center and looking at the door he had left open. A moment later, Steve came into the room and closed the door behind him. He stood in the corner, arms hanging loose at his sides and looked at Bucky expectantly, ready to give or take whatever it was Bucky needed from him. Bucky just reached his arm out to Steve, looking up at him in a dazed sort of way, like he was empty.
Steve was on the bed in an instant, feeling ecstatic that his boyfriend, partner, the love of his life for as long as he could remember finally wanted him again, and feeling hopeful for the first time in months that things would be normal again. He wrapped an arm around Bucky’s torso, pulling him back to lay next to him, and was suddenly angry. Bucky had simply gone limp, allowing Steve to literally manhandle him onto the bed, face emotionless, checked out, just a shell of a person. He was sad, that having Bucky like this meant that something had happened, he’d been triggered by something and made to submit, he’d broken, shut down.
Steve feels the tears building again as he arranges the pillows and blankets and Bucky around him so that they can try to sleep. He lays on his back, with Bucky at his right, laying half on top of Steve, with his head on his chest and right arm across Steve's stomach, while Steve holds on with an arm across Bucky’s back. He thinks for a second that he could pretend they had just fucked, and that Bucky was just in his usual pass out position after sliding off Steve’s dick and collapsing. Steve couldn’t decide if thinking about sex right now made him want to laugh or cry.
Bucky didn’t move aside from tightening his arm around Steve soon after they were in position, and then relaxing it a while later, when his eyes fell closed and he presumably fell asleep.
Steve woke (surprised to find that he had slept at all) to Bucky tense and trembling in his arms.
‘No.. not Stevie… you can’t…’ Bucky was mumbling, so quiet that Steve wouldn’t have heard it if Bucky hadn’t been basically talking into his ear.
“You’re okay Buck, It’s fine. Just a dream” Steve told him, rubbing his arm hoping to wake him up before it got worse.
‘Please don’t make me kill those people’ Bucky continued to mumble “I won’t ask about Steve again, I promise. Just don’t hurt my Stevie..’
“You’re Stevie is fine Buck, I’m right here, just wake up”
Bucky began to thrash harder, punching Steve’s chest weakly, and then he screamed. It was like in the cave all over again, the most heartbreaking, tragic, scream of pain. But unlike the cave, it stopped suddenly, much sooner, and Bucky was wide awake. He tried to pull away, to escape the restraints and just run, but he was too weak. They kept him too weak to properly defend himself, but still strong enough to be their number 1 sniper. The American Soldier they had tortured until he agreed to kill his own men. Men he killed so his torturers wouldn’t kill Steve.
“Hey there Buck, just relax baby” Steve was saying softly into his ear, while keeping him pinned to the bed and at his side with his legs. “You’re safe, we escaped, we’re home in New York.”
Not surprisingly, the scream had woken everyone else up and Sam was cautiously coming into the room. Steve looked up and shook his head.
“I got this, more people could just make it worse.” Steve said, as Bucky continued to squirm and writhe and try to fight his way out of Steve's hold. Sam hesitated for a moment, and then went back into the hallway, standing guard.
Bucky continued to struggle, and was just getting more agitated instead of calming down, so Steve tried a new tactic, flipping them over so Bucky was on his back. He straddled him, sitting on Bucky’s thighs and keeping him pinned with one hand on his chest and the other holding his wrist.
“Bucky!” he nearly yelled. “Stop fighting and just look at me. Please. Come on, baby.”
Bucky finally stilled for a moment, and Steve moved the hand of his chest to brush the hair out of his eyes.
Bucky Just started, looking terrified.
“If I let go of you, you’re not going to run, right? You’re safe, I promise.”
Bucky just nodded, relaxing the tiniest bit. Steve let go of his wrist, and when Bucky didn’t immediately punch him, he slid off his lap also, sitting close at his side instead. Bucky stayed on his back for a moment, His breathing evened out as he looked around the room, seeming to recognize where he was. He sat up, leaning into Steve slightly and looked over at his left side.
“So that was real” Bucky whispered.
“What was real?” Steve asked
“That dream just now, they really did cut my arm off.”
“Did they make you choose? Loose the arm, or …” Steve asked hesitantly, worried that he is about to make things worse.
“I chose the you don’t die option.” Bucky replied. He’s shaking, sliding down the bed so that his head is in Steve’s lap, arm wrapped around Steve's waist. Steve is running his fingers through Bucky’s hair as Bucky begins to sob uncontrollably.
“I was doing it to save you.” Bucky tries to explain, once he manages to stop crying enough to try to speak. His words are a garbled mumble, but Steve understands him. “I didn’t want to kill them, but I had to. I had to protect you. All of you.”
Bucky is nearly asleep when Steve remembers that Sam is probably still right outside the door, that all of them could be right outside the door.
“Sam?” He calls out, hopefully loud enough for Sam to hear without waking Bucky.
“I think we’re good here for now, stand down and get some sleep.” Steve told him.
Sam just stands at the door for a second, smiling.
“What the hell is that grin for?” Steve asked.
Sam just shakes his head, “Sorry, I just don’t think I’ve ever been happy to see you two half naked and cuddling in bed like this. I feel like I should be apologizing and then running away. He should be flipping me off and yelling threats.”
“Good night, Sam” Steve says with a sad smile.
Bucky wakes the next morning to find Steve sitting next to him on the bed, reading Bucky’s book. He panics slightly, closing his eyes again tensing up at the realization that someone is in his space, then relaxes slightly when he remembers that person is Steve, practically his husband. Steve is safe, he reminds himself. He opens his eyes and shifts slightly, looking over at Steve. He looks so tired, Bucky thinks, as Steve looks down at him, setting the book down.
“Morning.” He says softly, smiling slightly at Bucky.
Bucky just stares back, looking slightly less empty than he had the night before.
“Are you hungry?” Steve asks, and Bucky nods the slightest bit. “Let’s go to the kitchen and I’ll make us eggs.”
Without waiting for an answer, Steve gets off the bed and heads for the door, but Bucky doesn’t move from the bed.
“Come on Buck, you know the rule.” Steve reminded him, and Bucky nodded. There was only one rule here, everyone had to eat in the common area, no food in bedrooms. He was allowed to come and go and leave the floor, even leave the building if he wanted, or he was allowed to stay in his room all day, as long as he came out at least 2 times a day to eat. He didn't have to talk or acknowledge anyone, and there was always a plate ready for him after the others had finished their meals, so it hadn’t been too terrible he thought. This time though, Steve wasn’t letting him decide when he wanted to go to the kitchen.
Bucky had turned again to look at Steve, but made no moves to get off the bed.
“Well, I’m hungry, and I need coffee.” Steve announced with a shrug, come on out and join me if you feel like it.
Bucky looked at the clock, 9:37 am. Everyone was usually done with breakfast by now. He listened carefully for sounds coming from the kitchen or common area, and just heard the occasional clamor of pots and pans that he knew was Steve making them breakfast. He didn’t hear anything that sounded like talking, so decided that everyone else was probably gone for the day and got up and got dressed in his cargo pants, boots and a dark grey hoodie, and headed for the kitchen.
He got to the end of the hall and froze, nearly turning back, when he saw Sam in the kitchen as well. He and Steve were leaning in against the counter, shoulders almost touching as the clutched coffee mugs and spoke quietly. Bucky couldn’t hear anything they were saying, but assumed they were talking about him. He just stood there watching, trying not to get angry when Sam put an arm around Steve’s shoulder and held him tight for a moment, like a half hug, before pulling away and moving toward the sink. Steve spotted Bucky at the door a moment later and smiled at him before whispering something to Sam.
Sam finished washing his mug and turned to leave the kitchen, “Morning Bucky.” he said on his way past to his room. Bucky noticed that he looked almost as exhausted as Steve had that morning.
Bucky grabbed his usual mug from the cabinet, and made his coffee in silence, taking it to his usual spot at the table. A few moments later, Steve set a plate of eggs and toast in front of him and then sat down next to him with his own breakfast. Neither of them spoke as they ate, or when Bucky picked up Steve's empty plate and mug, stacking them on top of his own plate, and taking them to the sink. Steve tried not to cry as he remembered their old “you cook, I’ll clean” arrangement from before.
Bucky washed their dishes, and then stayed standing at the sink, staring out the window like he didn’t know what to do next. He always retreated back to his room as soon as he finished eating.
“Sam is leaving soon for the VA, and Nat, Clint and Tony won’t be home till at least 4.” Steve told him. “Do you want to stay out here and watch a movie or TV with me?” His voice sounded shaky as he asked. Bucky just turned around and walked out of the kitchen without reacting to Steve's question, but instead of heading down the hall to his room, Bucky went to the couch and sat down instead. Steve tried not to seem too excited and forced himself to stay calm as he followed to sit next to Bucky, leaving a little more space between them than he used to.
Steve turned on the TV, and then sat seemingly interested in an infomercial for some kitchen appliance, before looking over at Bucky, holding the remote out toward him. Bucky just shrugged, and glared at it slightly before Steve just nodded and smiled at him, flipping to the guide channel. ‘I know you don’t ever care what we watch, but I thought i’d be nice and offer anyway’ Bucky thought in his head, translating Steve’s gesture to himself.
They didn’t actually watch anything, Steve changed the channel every time a commercial came on for several hours, while he slumped gradually sideways onto Bucky’s shoulder, eventually falling asleep and snoring gently into Bucky’s ear. Bucky panicked slightly when he realized Steve was asleep on him, but quickly realized he felt safe like that, pinned down on the squishy couch.
Bucky was watching a documentary on Penguins, and Steve was still asleep when Natasha came in from the stairwell, arms loaded with grocery bags. She walked right past them as if there was nothing unusual, and started rummaging through bags, sorting and putting away groceries. After a few minutes, she came into the living room and plopped down on the other couch with a bag of popcorn, sighing as she relaxed into the cushions.
“What are we watching?” She asked quietly, not wanting to wake up Steve.
Bucky just gestured to the screen and rolled his eyes, like it was a stupid question.
“Penguins.” Natasha replied, “Okay.” She didn’t talk again as she watched, aside from the occasional ooh and ahh whenever they did something cute.
They were onto Polar Bears when Clint and Sam came in together, arguing about something as usual, Bucky figured it was probably related to some stupid show called Dog Cops that he had never seen, but heard them talking about several times before.
“Hey!” Natasha hissed as they came into the common “Keep it down, Steve is sleeping.” She whispered.
Sams stopped suddenly, looking over at Bucky sitting in the corner of the couch, with Steve sprawled across him. He smiled, and kind of looked like he was going to cry. Clint bumped into Sam, not having expecting him to freeze up suddenly. “What’s happening?” he asked, and then looked over as well. “Oh…” His jaw dropped slightly when he realized what he was looking at.
“So if you two idiots can’t behave and keep quiet, you can’t watch the polar bears with us.” She sounded like she was trying to bribe a couple of children.
They looked over at Bucky, as if to ask permission to join him, and Bucky just shrugged, waving his hand slightly toward the empty spots on the couches. Sam sat at the opposite end of the couch from Bucky, on the other side of Steve, and Clint nudged at Natasha until she moved enough for him to slip onto the couch behind her, before settling back again against his chest.
Bucky realized, and was surprised to realize if he was being honest, that he wasn’t feeling at all anxious about being on the couch with all of them, almost like before. It didn’t even matter that he hadn’t actually been interested in the penguin show, it was just the channel they were on when Steve fell asleep, and Bucky hadn’t bothered to change it when a commercial came on. By they time the show had changed to the one about Polar Bears, he decided that they were kind of entertaining to watch, as they rolled around in the snow. By the time the Polar Bear show ended, and they were watching something about whales, Bucky realized he was actually enjoying himself, and he wasn’t feeling panicked about it.
He was sad actually, because he realized that everyone seemed really happy about Steve being asleep. That probably meant, he realized, that Steve hadn’t been sleeping lately, and the reason probably had something to do with Bucky. Steve wasn’t supposed to suffer or get hurt, Bucky had made sure of that. He was staying away to protect them, wasn’t he?
Tony was the last to arrive back in the Dormitory that evening, and not surprisingly, was the one to wake up Steve.
“It’s Taco Tuesday!” He announced, practically yelling as he came through the stairwell door. “Why doesn’t it smell like taco’s in here?” he asked, “Did everyone forget? I thought Clint and Nat were on dinner duty. Right? I remember Clint promising me that Taco Tuesday would start as soon as I…” He stopped talking when he got to the edge of the living room area, glancing at Bucky and Steve, and at everyone on the couches, and the whale show on TV, and at Bucky again.
“So wildlife documentaries are more important than Taco’s now?” He asks “Is that how it is?”
Sam just shrugs.
“That’s how it is.”
“Well, as long as we can have Taco wednesday instead, i guess I’ll order some pizzas.” Tony replies.
Steve wakes up at the word ‘pizza’ and lifts his head, clearly still drowsy and looks around.
“What’s happening?” he asks, slightly disoriented.
“Taco Tuesday became Taco Wednesday, and we’re learning about wildlife in the arctic. Tony is ordering pizza” Sam explained, managing to sound casual.
Bucky leaned forward and whispered something into Steve's ear. Steve blushed and looked embarrassed, slapping at Bucky’s hand while Bucky honest to god grinned at him. Sam realized he never thought he would miss seeing what was once a common exchange between them.
The pizza arrives around the same time as the wildlife documentaries end and some reality show about Alaska comes on, and Natasha insists on changing the Channel. Tony suggests a movie, and they eventually agree on the Lego Movie.
Bucky stays in the corner, and eats the pizza that Steve hands to him. He doesn’t talk, but he's not fully avoiding all forms of interaction with the others either. Steve falls asleep across Bucky again as soon as they are done eating, and Clint appears to be asleep as well on the opposite couch. He notices when the movie ends, and Tony turns the lights back up, that everyone seems more relaxed than he had seen them recently.
Bucky nudges Steve in the ribs, whispering in his ear to wake up, and Steve seems disoriented again as he opens his eyes and sits up. “Get up so we can go to bed” Bucky whispers to Steve, and takes Steves hand to guide him down the hall to his room once they are both standing. Steve waves to everyone and says good night.
Bucky sits on the edge of the bed and begins to take his boots off, when he notices Steve still standing by the door.
“You coming to bed?” Bucky asks him. Steve just nods and begins to undress.
They are in bed with the lights off, limbs tangled as they settle into their usual positions to go to sleep. Almost like it was.
“I never thought about how it was for all of you.” Bucky says softly, finding his words in the dark.
“I thought you were all safe, because of what I was doing. You weren’t supposed to suffer at all. None of you were.”
“It’s not your fault, Buck.” Steve told him, running his hand through Bucky’s hair. “None of it was.”
“I was driving, didn’t see it, they wouldn’t have captured us if I saw it.” Bucky’s voice grew shaky.
“There's a good chance it was buried Buck, no one could have seen that IED. And we were all distracted, I wasn’t looking out.”
“Don’t lie. They told me what you all said, that you all blamed me. Because it was my fault, and you're mad at me, and you all should be. That’s why they had to keep me away, and punish me for it. It’s my fault that Tony almost died from shrapnel in his heart, and Clint is deaf now, and that you were all chained up.” He was crying again now, Steve had to listen carefully to understand. “And all those men, Stevie. Americans. And I killed them.”
Bucky pulled away, as if he was allowing Steve to leave the room, but Steve just pulled him back closer again.
“You’re wrong, Buck.” Steve told him, stroking his hair again “They lied to you. We never blamed you. Not ever. We miss you, but no one is mad at you. Promise.”
“But all those things I did, I killed so many people. I’m a monster, Stevie.”
“You’re not, you made an impossible choice, they tortured you into making that choice. It wasn’t you.” Steve explained.
“But I still did it.” Bucky replied.
“Doesn’t count.” he pulled Bucky closer, kissing the top of his head. “Let’s get some sleep, Buck.”
“You should move your stuff in here tomorrow, I know you haven’t been sleeping without me.” Bucky said after a moment.
“Sounds like a perfect idea” Steve mumbled sleepily before drifting off to sleep.
Bucky was the first to wake the next morning. He was warm, and comfortable, and Steve’s arm was holding him, weighted across his back. It was a lot like before. Bucky stayed where he was, listening to the sounds of his friends waking up. He had only heard Sam’s door so far, and he didn’t hear any talking, so he assumed Sam was the only one in the kitchen. Slowly, he maneuvers out from under Steve’s arm without waking him and dresses to go get coffee.
“Good morning.” Bucky says quietly as he enters the kitchen. Sam turns around from the toaster, too tired to hide his surprise at seeing Bucky.
“Morning Bucky!” Sam replies, a little too loud, with a huge grin. “Coffee should be ready in a minute or two.” He adds, gesturing toward the gurgling pot.
“Thanks” Bucky mumbled, gathering his coffee mug, and Sam's along with the cream and sugar. As soon as the coffee finishes brewing, he makes two cups, sliding one across the counter to Sam. He smiles at Bucky after taking the first small sip. “You remembered it perfect, man. Thanks.” Bucky just smiled back.
They stood in silence for a moment, sipping coffee. Eventually, Bucky moved over to the corner where sam has working, and peered into the bowl on the counter, and then gave Sam a questioning look.
“I’m making corn muffins, with cheesy scrambled eggs and bacon. Want to help?” Sam asked.
Bucky looked down at his missing arm and shrugged. “Guess I’ll have to figure it out eventually”
“Awesome.” Sam replied with a smile. “You’re on bacon duty then. Get a couple cookie sheets from the bottom cabinet and lay it all out flat. Then get a couple plates with paper towels ready to dry off the grease after its cooked.”
They worked in silence for a while, as Sam scooped batter into tins and Bucky slowly separated bacon strips out of the package. Clint and Natasha appeared together, and Bucky said ‘good morning’ to both of them as they made their coffee. Tony was next, loudly proclaiming that the bacon he was smelling better not be coming from some stupid candle. Steve was the last to wake up, half running into the kitchen in Bucky’s sweatpants and a t shirt, looking panicked.
“Did anyone see Bucky this morn….. Oh.” He went silent when he saw Bucky standing next to the oven he had just pulled a tray of bacon from. “Hi” he eventually finished. Bucky set the bacon down to cool, and smiled over at Steve before pouring him a cup of black coffee and walking over to him.
“G’morning, Babe” Bucky said placing the coffee into Steve's hands, and leaning in to deliver a quick kiss to his lips. Steve put the mug down on the table and pulled Bucky in for a hug, chin resting on Bucky’s shoulders as he looked across the room at Sam through watery eyes. Sam smiled back, happy tears forming in his eyes as well, because even though no one would say anything out loud, the morning had been significant.
Things were starting to feel a lot more ok.