fossilised | For Steve

"You did. Everyone else did fifty, you did fifty."

He folded his arms in a gesture that said he was not about to back down on this. Somehow, somewhere along the past few days, he had latched onto guarding Steve properly. A disquieted part of his mind whispered that it was because it was like having a handler again, a purpose, he knew what to do with a target to either take out or protect. Another part of him said that it was because this was Steve, who he didn't quite remember, but who said Buck in such a way that made him feel.

"I haven't done them."

So there, not everyone had done them.

The laugh that came was soft and Steve looked like he might lean into Bucky for just a moment before he caught himself and stretched his legs out in front of him. "We should get in. He was worried about there not being any food and I don't know about you, but I could eat."

Steve stood, legs still a little filled with jelly, and offered Bucky a hand up. It was ridiculous. His best friend just ran twelve mile in the time it took him to do a few dozen push ups and was barely breathing hard.

Dinner was delicious. It had absolutely no taste but it was different and more filling than the rations he was use to eating. And Steve was in a great mood too, even if it was only be and Bucky left eating now. The rest of their crew had gone back to their barracks.

Peggy arrived just before dessert and stood with her arms held behind her back, just behind Steve, but the blond was busy grinning at Bucky to notice.

"Well privates. We need to speak again."

It felt oddly quite nice to be the cause of Steve laughing, especially in such a fond way, but the closest he got to showing it was still only a slight thawing of his stony expression. It was like he had forgotten how to smile, or that what had happened had left such a deep impression on him that smiling would be a herculean task.

He could go a long time without eating if he had to, something he had been trained on, but he always ate when food was put in front of him. His body needed it a lot, the serum burned through calories like a wildfire, so he even mopped up the weak gravy with his finger before Agent Carter reappeared.

"About what?"

His question was neutral, but it couldn't help but sound slightly insolent because he added no title of polite address in there.

"We clocked your run," the agent said, shifting her hands to her small waist. Her hourglass form had Steve's eyes drifting a little now that he was glancing around at her, his attention drawn understandably away from her face. It did hurt his neck to look up, of course, his neck could only crane so far.

"You.. How fast was he?" Steve had been caught staring so he needed to say something.

Peggy smiled and Steve smiled right back at her, feeling a little oddly in his stomach. "Over seventy Miles an hour around the curve? Care to explain that private? Bionic legs to go with the arm?"

Bucky noticed the way Steve clocked Agent Carter, like he was a boy noticing a pretty dame for the first time, and for some reason that too felt familiar and yet a little bittersweet. He was too busy watching Steve to pay attention to what she said at first, only realising that she was addressing him when Steve looked surprised over the speed.

Faster than any human really could travel.

"I was told to go double time." That was pretty much his explanation. His normal jogging speed was around half that, so he had gone double time. Which, admittedly, was very close to his absolute top sprinting speed, not something he could sustain for more than half an hour or so.

"Are you trying to be funny?" she asked him, eyebrows raised, but Steve was pretty much staring at Bucky as if he was some strange God come to earth. Another Jesus Christ. Who could run so fast? Who could even dare? Was this what the serum would do for him?

No wonder it was so dangerous and so deadly. No wonder it was so full of intrigue. If the soldiers of the future were all like this, couldn't they destroy the world? What did ordinary people do?

Bucky said he didn't want to hurt anyone...

Steve felt sick to his stomach, that happy flutter gone, leaving him only with a terrible ache. His eyebrow knitted together as Agent Carter spoke about needing to do tests, about wanting to get in some calibrations, and Bucky's fear at being made another soldier had Steve standing up.

A little too quickly, probably, since he put his hand in the mashed whatever vegetables this was. It only made him look more sincere. "You're not going to test him. No blood. No forcing him to perform tricks-- No. When you select me for the program, run as many tests on me as you want. But no one touches Bucky."

Peggy frowned. "Are you with the American intelligence? Is that what this is? You're not military. You don't qualify--"

"It doesn't matter what I am," Steve said. "What matters is the future."

Bucky's brow furrowed in confusion, all his attention arrested on Steve as the man stood up to defend him. He wasn't even sure what he felt right then, it was completely alien to him. He had never had anyone take his corner before, stand up to other people properly on his account. It made him feel more-- human. Less like a weapon, more like a man.

He stood up at Steve's shoulder, eyes finally tearing away from him to look down at Agent Carter with cold ruthlessness.

"You don't test either of us," he said, voice brooking no argument from either of them. "We're men, we're not laboratory rats. Understand?"

Peggy's expression softened a bit. "I'm not trying to make either of you into laboratory rats, but we need to understand what's going on here. This is the army, and you're both here on Dr. Erskine's good word, we're not about to just let something impossible slide. What we want to test isn't invasive, just a few callisthenics and strength tests."

If Steve had known that the man ever felt less than human, let alone the way he had been abused to make him forget that he had ever even been human, Steve would have been crushed. That he stood up for Bucky now, however, was just typical. Usual. This is what he did for the people he loved and strangers alike. Even if he got his ass handed to him in the end.

"No tests because he's only here for me. He's not part of the Army. He's not your weapon or your tool. I'm your man." Steve was adamant. Even if Peggy looked at him a little ruefully (and impressed at the same time), Steve was use to being the underdog. And he was used to people not seeing through his height or his size or his sicknesses. "If you can't abide by that rule... Then I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. We'll find another way."

Steve was ready to run if he had to.

"No." Peggy shook her perfect curls. "I haven't shown the General yet. There's only a few of us that have seen the results. You can't show off anymore, Peivate Barnes, because the next person that finds out might not be willing to look the other way. Now. Finish up and back to your bunks. It's another day of training tomorrow."

He hadn't been showing off, he had been following orders. But he understood what she meant and would take that as an implicit order to limit himself no matter what he was told, something he didn't mind obeying because it would keep him at Steve's side and keep the eyes of the military away from them as much as possible.

He grunted and sat back at the table, allowing Peggy to take a step further towards Steve and smile. "Try not to lose that loyalty, soldier." It was nice, seeing good still in the world. "Lights out in ten minutes, you had best eat quickly." And with that, she left the two of them to it in the mess hall.

Bucky hesitated with a forkful of meat halfway to his mouth. "They don't test on you, either." Non-negotiable.

"Buck, don't worry about me. You're going to be right there. At my side." Steve wiped his hand on his napkin and sat back down again, settling his elbow on the table. "Always. Until the end of the line, right?"

Steve followed Bucky back to their barrack and settled back down onto the center bunk, rolling onto the bottom before he realized that his pillow was covered in toothpaste.

He sat up quickly and touched the back of his head, frowning as he glanced at his fingertips. "What the--"

The room erupted in laughter as the lights flickered off.

Great. Just great.

There was no way that Bucky would let Steve be tested on, no matter how innocent or good the cause, not ever. If anyone tried to go near him with a needle, they would find out just how dangerous he could be first hand. Never-- Never would he let someone so important to him be destroyed from the inside out like he had been.

The laughter continued a short time after lights out, right up until one of the laughing voices ended in an erk sort of sound, as if someone had mysteriously found themselves punched in the throat by a silent assassin.

Though Bucky would be in his bed when the lights came on to show Cooper massaging his throat and glaring at Steve. "Did you just come at me, Rogers? What the fuck is wrong with you? It was a bit of harmless fun."

Turning in bed to face the man talking, Steve held out both of his hands, palms covered in messy cream. He could only guess what had happened (though he was sure that his guess would be right), so he kept his eyes away from Bucky. He didn't want to give his friend away and honestly, he didn't really approve. A little bit of toothpaste wasn't going to kill anyone, but it was going to make showers in the morning difficult. If they were even permitted showers in the morning.

At least he's smell pretty good. Minty fresh.

Jennsey snorted at Cooper and rolled his eyes. "Rogers can barely keep up during drills, there's no way in hell he came at you."

Steve didn't think that was exactly the same thing as having his back, so he just rolled his eyes and got out of bed before Mitchell made a sharp whistle with his fingers between his lips. "Rogers, don't you dare. Lights out is lights out, you leave and it could be all of our asses."

"So I'm suppose to just lay in toothpaste all night...?"

"Yes," half a dozen men replied almost at once, causing Steve to sigh and climb back into bed. Well, what was a little hazing between classmates? Even if he'd had to deal with pretty much the same thing his whole life? It was just like always, business as usual. But at least he was finally following his destiny. Only after Steve was in bed again, pillow flipped over and hands wiped off on his towel, did he glance over at Bucky. A silent goodnight, and more than a little affection, was in his eyes.

Bucky hadn't slept the night before, too on edge surrounded by a dozen or so men who he didn't know or trust at all, but that night he did. The soft look that Steve gave him was almost permission to let himself relax, and he knew logically that there was no way that he could stay awake the entire time they were with the military. He might be able to go six days without sleep at last recorded count, though he became incredibly ineffectual by the end of day five, but they would be here longer than that.

Unfortunately for the other members of their barracks, Bucky dreamed.

It didn't happen every night, maybe four nights out of seven, but it was always worse when he felt even slightly unsafe in his surroundings. A part of him registered the others in here as a possible threat, and that dug into his subconscious and caused the dreams to start. Flashes and fragmented memories that refused to leave him be until he was screaming, a full-throated and raw scream that echoed off the walls of the room.

Nearly all of the men were awake at once, spooked as hell by that eerie screaming, and Jennsey stumbled out of bed to hit the lights so that everyone could see the other new recruit thrashing under his blankets.

"The-- the hell?"

Although Steve would have liked to say that nothing on this earth would have ever kept him from Bucky, the truth was that a dozen larger men could do just that simply by standing around, moving from their bunks faster than Steve could untangle himself from the blankets. Those closer were already in a loose circle around Bucky and yelling to each other to do something to wake the guy up.

Cooper as the first to move forward, Mitchrll to his left going in to hold Bucky's feet. Steve's little voice was impossible to hear over the noise, and no one would heed any warnings to leave Bucky alone because they had no idea what Steve did about waking up the traumatized ex-soldier.

"Hey. Barnes. Get up. You're having some sort of girly nightmare," Cooper joked, moving in to shake Bucky awake.

They were all about to get a taste of what the Soldier could do.

He felt the hands on him as ones coming to drag him to the reconditioning chamber, unyielding and dangerous, and so he reacted accordingly. His metal arm lashed out and struck Cooper on the side of the head, literally flinging him across the room with enough force to make him crash into the opposite wall. His legs came up, scissoring around Mitchell's throat to break the hold there, flipping so that in one smooth motion he slammed that man into the floor and got himself to his feet.

He was awake, but still not really in the room, sweat pouring down his face and eyes utterly blank as if he saw something other than what was there.

Edited 2017-02-05 10:35 (UTC)

The men fanned out, not to run for help but to see where this ws going, to make sure the Cooper and Mitchell were breathing, but ultimately still trying to stay in on the action. They were all here training to be selected for Project Rebirth. For all they knew, taking out the competition could be a part of that. They wanted to prove themselves as much as Barnes was, but no one was ready to just rush in there and attack.

There was a hush to the room, minus Mitchell's groans from the dislocated shoulder he was suffering from, until skinny Steve Rogers with bare arms from a white sleeveless tshirt that hung from his form and with toothpaste dried in his hair finally made his way up to Bucky. In bare feet, Steve stood his ground. His hands did not roll into fists. He was not a threat here.

"Buck." Steve didn't have the most commanding voice, but it was steady and unafraid. "Bucky. You know me."

Buck, he said. Buck. That name that nobody else had ever called him, even when they used Bucky, and something that the Soviets never would have used. He was the Soldier to them, the Asset, never a man with a name. He stood still, rigid and trembling from head to foot, as if ready to spring at a moment's notice.

He wore a long-sleeved shirt and still a glove, hiding his fake arm from the rest of the men, so he looked a bizarre sight in the harsh electric glow of the long light swaying above them. Bizarre, yes, but not ridiculous. He looked dangerous, something in the set of his jaw and the stance of his body betraying that he was predator in this situation and not prey.

"Rogers, what's going on?" That was Jennsey, taking a half step forwards. "He some kind of dame to be having hysterics? Jesus, Barnes, look at what you did."

Bucky's attention shifted over to Jennsey all of a sudden, focused and razor sharp, target acquired.

No one in that room was a coward, bravery and loyalty were all traits that the Army wanted in their super soldiers and so each of these men were exemplary in that regard, but it was Steve that stood in the face of a man who happened to sometimes forget he wasn't in hell anymore. The others just watched and threw out words.

And if that didn't stop, they were going to get killed.

Steve held a hand out towards Jennsey as if placating him like one might do sternly to a barking dog and he told Williams to pull Mitchell back and away from the group. The rest of the men he asked to take two steps back. Only half listened but that any did at all spoke to the respect that they were giving Steve right now in his command of the situation.

"It's time to wake up," Steve told Bucky gently. "I need you to be with me, pal." Blond hair. Blue eyes. A calming tone. Handler or friend, Steve was calling the shots right now.

Attention shifted once more back to Steve.

Perfect Steve, who had no idea that a handler for a person could even exist. Innocent of anything HYDRA had done other than capture him, completely ignorant of how his looks had been used over the years to ensure a loyal Soldier. He commanded Bucky's attention completely. His eyes were so dark that they almost weren't blue any more, boring holes straight through the man who stood almost half his size and less than half his weight.

"Каковы мои заказы?"

Williams looked up sharply from where he was taking care of Mitchell, him and Cooper would need the medical barracks.

"Is he a Ruskie? Jesus, spies!"

It clicked into place a moment after mentally questioning how it was that Bucky knew Russian and the answer followed: he had been brainwashed by the Soviets. He was trained to do terrible things by them, of course. Why wouldn't they teach him Russian?

Steve's face hardened and he shook his head at Bucky. "Don't speak Russian, Buck." Thst name. That humanizing name. "You've got to talk to me in English."

Steve could drown everyone out. He use to at Bucky's matches in the ring. There would be nothing but focus in Steve's eyes. He didn't care what the others were doing or saying. He didn't care that a few had slipped out to get the General.

For a long few seconds there was just silence following that request, but the world narrowed down to just the two of them, attention fixed on one another with no care for the other men around and the ones that had run out. Bucky was still stood tall and trembling from head to foot, searching for something in Steve's eyes that clearly he found.

All of a sudden he pitched forwards as if a puppet who's strings had been cut, and ended up with his face buried in Steve's shoulder crying. Sobbing for all the world as if he were helpless to do anything else, not knowing or caring that men shouldn't cry.

"Помоги мне... S--teve... God, help me, не позволяйте им взять меня..."

"I'm right here," Steve confirmed, not sure what to do once Bucky was in his arms until he felt the tears on his shoulder. It was easier after that becsuse Bucky had cared for him when he was sick or having an episode with a frightening regularity and Steve just focused on wellness instead of answers.

The blond guided Bucky back to his bunk, which took a lot of work considering that Bucky was huge and unmoveable. He climbed up with him, sitting on his heels to give him height, and hugged him tightly. The men left in the room whispered and when Agent Carter and Erskine arrived, the General on their heels, they were forced to leave and wait outside.

They watched as Steve scratched lightly in Bucky's shorn hair and kept trying to make and maintain eye contact. They were too far away to hear the words said, but that hardly mattered. All Steve was doing was talking about home. "What about when John dared you to hang off of the edge of the boards at Coney Island and you fell into the sand? They all ran. We thought you died, but you were just taking?"

He didn't remember that day. He didn't remember how Steve had been the only one to run down to him on the sands, practically tripping over himself in his desperate hurry, or how Steve had shoved sand down the back of his neck once he realised his dumb friend had been faking it all. But he did remember cleaning sand off himself at home later, and finding grit in his bed for the next week no matter how many baths he took.

Slowly, gradually, he calmed down. Panicked and rapid breathing eased into calmer and more regular breaths, and his trembling decreased along with his sobs. He didn't move, however, not until he noticed there were other people still in the room, and then he finally sat up and away from Steve, though he could still feel the scraping of phantom fingernails over his scalp.

Red eyed and pale, he nevertheless regained his neutral voice and blank expression.

"Bad dream."

What a woefully inadequate explanation, and that was proven when the General took the lead on this, careful but firm.

"A bad dream that put two of my men in the medical bay, Private."

Steve turned to glance at the man speaking to him. The brass on his chest, in his collar, it made Steve immediately stand up. That he had put himself between Bucky and the approaching general was not an accident, though Steve was trying to show the decorated man a little bit of respect. He'd seen war. Fought hard. People like that had already proven themselves and served their country.

"Sir. He wasn't himself. He would have never hurt anyone if he hadn't been to--"

"Private Rogers, you are dismissed." The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he asked for clarification. "You are dismissed from active duty. You should have never been allowed in this camp. You are under performing, you can't keep up. Your health is a factor, son. If the man next to you can't rely on you to help him in the trenches, you're a detriment. You'll get more people killed then you'll ever help."

Steve's face reddened and then hardened. "You need men to pick up where other men have fallen. You need men to shoot and to follow orders. You need men to lay on the line so others can crawl over it. I'm that man, sir," he spit back.

"No, son. No. You're a joke. We cant risk Project Rebirth on you."

Erskine had been watching Rogers very closely throughout all of this. He had stood up for his friend without a moment hesitation, he was wanting to be a part of the war effort no matter if his role was only to lay on the line, he was exactly the sort of man that Project Rebirth needed. A weak man, who knew the value of strength and would never abuse it.

"On the contrary, he is my candidate."

"What?" The general whirled around to face Erskine. "You can't be serious, doctor. I've got a lot of good men out there, ones who have excelled at the training and always follow orders, this-- this joke will never be a soldier."

"I've made my decision, General, he will be the candidate for Project Rebirth. I will contact Mr. Stark at the end of the week and make the arrangements." He could have no idea that the end of the week would bring about a far different conclusion.

The General exhaled a disgusted noise. "Rogers, I swear to our Almighty God, if you fail to keep up this week then you'll be out, no matter what the doctor says. And Barnes, follow me, you're going into solitary. You hurt two men and can't be trusted in these barracks, and your goddamn Russian needs talking about."

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