fossilised | For Steve

Bucky could see how devastated Steve was, he could recognise the grief in his face, but he had no frame of reference for how to comfort that. It was something alien to him, as so much was now, and so he just sat there and looked up at the man with a hand on his shoulder. The charcoal had stilled on the page, but he hadn't set either down.

"Washington." That was definitely a new place to live, and he didn't just suggest it at random. "Dr. Erskine sent a telegram. On the table."

It seemed like Steve's destiny wasn't quite done with him yet, and he had hope for the future if he could let himself find it. The telegram was, as most telegrams were, brief and to the point.

STEVE ROGERS STOP
THIS IS ERSKINE STOP PROJECT REBIRTH STILL CONTINUING STOP REQUESTING PRESENCE IN WASHINGTON DC FOR TESTS AND TRAINING OVER NEXT THREE YEARS STOP CANNOT PROVIDE FINANCIAL REIMBURSEMENT STOP WILL MAKE SURE TESTS TAKE PLACE ON EVENING OR WEEKEND SO JOB IS POSSIBLE STOP SEND WORD BY RETURN TELEGRAM STOP
DR ERSKINE STOP

Holding the telegram in both hands, and having never run from anything in his entire life, Steve had already made up his mind that he would go. He'd missed his chance to save Bucky, but he could still save other people. He could still be a good soldier. Wars didn't really end in a day, after all. There was a lot of cleaning up to do.

"I guess we're going to Washington. I'll reply tomorrow," Steve said softly and put the card with his key in the little bowl beside the door.

He stayed in his bath tub until the water grew too cold and dried and dressed quickly. He was huddled up in his robe when he peaked back in on Bucky. The eyes on that paper, the nightmare from days ago, and the feel of the other man against him were all very strong pros towards asking him to come to bed.

Steve swallowed back how inappropriate that might be. He could always have Bucky set up the other bed if he declined.

"Do you-- are you tired? Do you want to come to bed?"

Bucky finally set down the charcoal when Steve reappeared huddled up and slightly pink from the warm water of the bath. It was good that he had managed to have a warm bath, it would be good for his lungs, and god knows he had pushed himself far enough over the past few days that he deserved to luxuriate even if only for a half hour or so.

"Do you want me to?"

He had still only really managed to verbalise two things that he wanted - stay with Steve, and not kill anyone else - but the smaller things were harder for him. It was difficult, to feel like he might be disobeying someone who looked so much like a handler. It would be easier if Steve were to order to him to bed and sleep.

Everything that had happened coupled with Bucky's outbursts left Steve to believe that choice was not something he was used to. He closed his robe around himself a little more tightly and settled on the edge of the seat, knees apart comfortably. He made sure not to disturb the charcoal.

"Let's go with whatever you want," he offered, kindly, experimentally. It had worked for them both so far and Steve, other than being a very giving human being, wanted to help Bucky reintegrate with society. He wanted to help him with his nightmares and his trust issues and his memory. "If you want to come to bed with me, please do. If not, I'll set up the couch. Or you can sleep on cushions on the floor like you used to."

He wanted to be accommodating without forcing Bucky into his own whim.

Steve could have no idea just how much he had helped already. When he had run from the other Steve, when he had fled his old life, he had been an empty shell that ran on instinct and paranoia, he never would have even thought to trust another. But now he did, now he had someone to protect, and it was already giving him back some humanity.

"I want to... come to bed with you."

He wanted to be as close to Steve as he could, that was the easiest way to protect him and it also soothed him. He had no thoughts of propriety or deviancy on his mind.

"I'm not used to being asked. Sorry."

There was more than warmth in Steve's eyes as he pressed his lips together and nodded. "You'll have to get used to it. We have to work as a team, right? Equal partners. You get as much say as I do." Steve left Bucky alone to clean up his work, but he left him a damp cloth for his hands on the table before heading off to the bedroom. There was no amount of time that Bucky had to take for this. He could come to bed whenever he wanted, but Steve was going to tuck himself hp with a book for a little while.

He did t want to think about Bucky's death. Or his torture. Or what he could have done or should have done. He needed to just promise himself to do better in the future. And this future would still have his best friend in it.

When Bucky did come to his bedroom, Steve was stuck on reading the same few lines over and over again. His mind had stalled out with sorrow and exhaustion and hope,

He did glance up as a familiar figure filled his doorway and he let his head fall back against a very deflated pillow.

"We're gonna be okay, pal. I really think so."

Bucky took another half hour to come to the bedroom. He cleaned the table as thoroughly as he could, making sure not a single smudge of charcoal remained, and then simply sat for a while as he tried to figure out how to get them to Washington D.C. before long. Steve would never let them steal another car, and he couldn't keep using his money forever before someone noticed the date and he was hauled in for fraud.

Maybe he could risk once more to get train tickets, and then he'd have to find a way to get money to support them when they were there. He could rob a bank, maybe a convenience store, he had more than enough skills to do that.

When he finally slipped into the bedroom and began to pull his clothes off, it was with a much more relaxed body posture.

"I'll make sure of it, I'll protect you."

At the slightest movement to signal that he might be undressing, Steve immediately looked away and made as if setting his book aside was a big deal. He scooted down in his bed and tried to refluff his pillow. There wasn't a lot of space here for the two of them, he suddenly realized. This wasn't the hotel. There was no queen sized bed. It was just a slightly larger than single he'd gotten second hand last year. Where was Bucky going to sleep other than right up against him?

It was thrilling and terrifying at the same time and so Steve tried to cling to the edge as Bucky promised him protection and support. The words didn't help.

"You've always had my back. I didn't expect anything less," Steve started.

He hoped it didn't sound as confusing as it did in his head, with his voice going higher than usual there. He cleared his throat for effect.

Bucky still didn't have any shame, it had all been seared out of him in decades as the Soldier when he wasn't seen as human and had to endure the worst sorts of humiliation and degradation. Being naked with someone who cared about him and respected him was nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to be afraid of.

He didn't even leave his boxers on, only slipping beneath the covers when he was naked. It was necessary, because of the size of the bed, to press up against Steve from behind and drape an arm around him in order to have somewhere to put it.

"Go to sleep."

A low growl next to his ear, utterly ignorant of what he was doing to poor emotionally compromised Steve.

"What ever happened to options?" Steve asked, managing to get a very poor hold on his voice. This wasn't a good night for him. He'd left his living friend to draw eyes in charcoal so he could sit with a dead version of the same friend and then return to have the initial friend undress to cuddle up to him.

The chances of Steve sleeping for at least the near future? Roughly zero.

He tucked his knees up, which caused Bucky to mold against him again, and the outline of a very inappropriate body part was very noticeable tucked against the back of his thigh. Steve had stiffened, closed his eyes tightly, and tried to refocus his breathing. This was better than an attack. Just barely.

Had he said something wrong?

Bucky frowned to himself in the darkness, wondering if he ought to have given something akin to an order to someone who looked so like a handler. But Steve's tone of voice hadn't sounded angry, more tight, and now his muscles were all tensing up. Was he ill? About to have an attack? Bucky stiffened behind him and shifted his hand to rest on the centre of his chest as if to feel his breathing.

"What's wrong? Why are you tense?"

Oh God. Please, please give him strength. Please don't let this happen to him. He'd been very attracted to Agent Carter. Why was he still be tempted this way? Why hadn't he been given enough burden? Steve wasn't sure if that was an appropriate prayer. You should never pray to ask God for anything. It should be a conversation. Maybe he hadn't been talking to God so much lately but he was sure he had suffered through the worst of this temptation already. Hadn't he?

"I-- no, I'm all right." He slipped his fingers around Bucky's hand, Palm to his knuckles, but didn't pull him off. "You're uh... Well you're not exactly dressed for bed. Or for anything and..."

Steve didn't like to lie. He just didn't know what Bucky would do with this information if he told him. The old Bucky would have understood and probably kept his distance but still remain his friend. This one might kill him for it.

"I'm.. Struggling a little. With temptation. I think it's just stress. Or with you being so close-- I'm so sorry, Buck. I don't mean to be this way. I thought I was over it. I should let you sleep by yourself." He was so embarrassed.

The term bisexual just didn't exist in this place and time, there was no word to describe Steve being allowed to find both Agent Carter and Bucky attractive, and certainly no leniency on it in the eyes of the world. If he were caught, if he thought himself even slightly interested in men, then they could have him sent to jail for a crime or a hospital for his mental illness. It wasn't natural, men liking other men.

Bucky was still and silent for a long time after the confession.

Temptation. He had to work that through on what it meant, but even with the gaps in his knowledge, it didn't take too much to piece together what was intended behind those few hesitant words. That should scare him after some of the things that had been done to create the Soldier, but it didn't, and it certainly didn't disgust him. The Soldier and Bucky had both learned through the changing times about the evolving nature of sexuality.

"I don't know if I feel the same," he replied eventually. "You make me feel safe, I didn't think I would ever have that again."

His arm tightened around Steve, as if to stop him from leaving the bed and going elsewhere. Even if he didn't know what he wanted in return, he knew he didn't want to lose Steve.

"Don't go."

Steve genuinely hoped that Bucky didn't feel this way about him. What would that mean for the two of them? Steve would blame himself for the catchy sickness of it. He would never be able to forgive himself for what he'd done to Bucky. Maybe this would all get worked out in the end and he'd feel silly and laugh about it in the years to come. Oh God. He hoped so.

But having confirmation that Bucky still wanted him close did make Steve relax. Had he expected any different? They didn't abandon each other. Not even for sickness. Bucky had never left him at his lowest. And maybe this was what he needed. Temptation to overcome.

Steve relaxed his grip. And relaxed himself.

"I won't-- Bucky.. Thank you. I mean it. Thanks for understanding. Means the world to me. Maybe in DC I can find someone to help me...? I think they had therapy. After I get a job."

"Help you with what?"

Bucky didn't quite grasp what was going on here, at least not for a long few seconds. But then something shook loose in the vacuous void of his memory, one afternoon in school where rumours had gone around that Tyler Masters had been transferred out because he had been caught after gym doing things with another boy. The scandal, the disgust...

"Oh."

He was not the right person for this kind of comfort.

"It's not something that needs therapy. Being gay, it's natural. Nothing wrong with it."

Steve was instantly uncomfortable again. He'd thought he'd be able to ignore this for now and if the inkling came up again, he'd get some therapy but-- the term. He'd never heard that before. They called people like Tyler 'deviants' or 'homosexuals' because gay was a word meaning happy and nothing else.

Happy. There was nothing wrong with being happy. It was natural. Steve exhaled at thst, forcing the tension out of his chest.

"Maybe. But... Maybe we shouldn't talk about it." God would strike him down as he laid there, finding himself indeed happy in Bucky's arms. His fingers loosened s little on the ofher's hand and his body released more tension with every breath be mirrored off of Bucky. His head was full of cotton and his eyes hurt from sleepiness and the tears both shed and left inside. "And it doesn't matter. You're-- you're my best friend. I'll do anything I can to make sure you stay feeling safe and-- okay. Going to sleep now," he joked softly.

He smuggled into Bucky in his sleep. It was indeed natural.

Bucky didn't respond again, simply staying still and silent until Steve had got off to sleep and he could be left with his own thoughts. He raked through what memories he had ruthlessly, trying to pry loose if this had been a confession he had ever dealt with before. When he fought with the man on the helicarrier, had it been with the added insult that they had once been involved? Had he kissed those lips? Or had he rejected him? Had he known?

He couldn't remember a time when they had been together, but that didn't mean that it hadn't happened, he didn't remember a whole lot of things. It didn't matter, he wasn't going to take advantage of Steve, but how did he feel in return? Hard to tell. He felt an innate connection, he wanted to stay nearby, but was that attraction physical or just emotional?

He'd have to pay attention to himself over the next few days and weeks to analyse how he felt.

But for now, he just let Steve sleep. Only waking him when the sounds of life outside the window began to get loud, when the sun was bright in the window. They had to get out of here, Steve's future waited for him in Washington and there were too many people here who might see his face and recognise him as a dead man.

"Are we leaving?" It wasn't exactly good morning, but Bucky didn't often mince words now. "Before the funeral?"

Before the funeral? Steve was barely awake, groggy and almost having forgotten that there was a funeral to worry about. And why. He rolled over slightly. His whole one side stiff from having voluntarily curled up in the same position all night. It was rare he didn't wake up in some sort of pain so this was nothing new.

"I... I said my goodbyes," Steve said. Would it be terrible to miss the funeral? Would Bucky look down on him from Heaven and scowl to see that he decided to stay with another version of him instead?

Steve didn't think that was possible. He was sure Bucky would want him to help as much as he could.

"That's probably fair," Steve said softly. "And we should think about how to change some of that money on the way. It's... Odd. Some of it."

The best way to do that was through buying and selling illegally but he couldn't bring himself to say that, even if they would need a little capital to move.

They were going to need a car. Something that wasn't stolen.

His mind worked overtime a little.

"So we should go... Uh. Let me pack. I should have enough in the kitchen for... Oh. It might have gone bad by now." He hadn't even thought of that. "All right! We'll get breakfast as we go."

Bucky had once had a high moral standard, perhaps not quite as good as Steve, but certainly he followed the church's commandments and the laws of his country. But the man he was now had only one rule - no killing. Anything else was fair game and if he hadn't stolen and committed assault then his freedom would have been very short lived. He fully intended to break into a bank or store on the way to D.C. and he would do so as many times as necessary once they were there in order to keep them safe.

"I can get us a car while you pack."

He pulled himself up from the bed, naked form silhouetted in the morning light, and began to gather his clothes together.

"I can keep us safe if you trust me."

Steve might not like the choices that Bucky would make, but they would be effective.

"I do trust you," Steve said as he caught himself staring and very quickly got himself out of bed and towards the bathroom. "I just don't want to steal someone's car again. We won't be coming back so we can't return it." It would limit Bucky to stealing from dealerships if he wanted to go that way or maybe he could find someone to tell him a car for cash. It wasn't unheard of.

He shut the door behind him, utterly afraid of what was going through his head right now, and started the water in the sink to wash his face. His eyes weren't that great but he had seen the scars on Bucky's back and seen the outline of his.. His...

Oh God. Help him!

Ideally, Steve would spend the rest of his time in the bathroom, until he heard Bucky leave. He'd pack after that. It wasn't hard. He had most of his things packed from when he thought he was enlisting in the Army. And funny thing, that. He was still wearing his tags.

Steve refused to take them off. He just dressed over them, put his scant few possessions in some boxes and waited in the window for Bucky.

Bucky would take that trust as carte blanche to do what he needed in order to get them across country as safely and as quickly as he could. He dressed as swiftly as he could and then slipped out of the apartment, not minding Steve still being in the bathroom when he left.

He was gone approximately three hours.

When he came back it was in a pick-up truck, new and shining, with two duffel bags on the back seat. He beeped the horn outside the building and waited, but if Steve didn't come down then he would lock up and go up to find him. It might be best for his small friend if he didn't ask exactly how Bucky got the truck or what he had in the bags.

It was all about trust, after all.

Steve decided not to ask questions that he didn't want the answers to. It was part of the whole trust thing. He assumed that Bucky wouldn't rob or hurt people and that they would do their best to get everything settled in without too much lying and cheating. Sometimes it was necessary to break the rules, both religiously and secularly, but Steve wanted to keep that to a minimum.

He was grateful for the help with the boxes and his bags and sort of gob smacked at the truck. It was beautiful in the way all new things were and sure, he had some trouble climbing up into the cab but once he was there, the view was awesome. "We can see over most of the cars!" Steve exclaimed happily.

At least the ride to DC would only be a few hours. The roads weren't nearly as good as Bucky might remember but seven hours or so should get them to the capital.

It was new start. Something fresh.

Steve didn't watch the rearview mirror as they left. He wanted to move on from his old life completely.

Bucky was obviously an expert driver, gripping the stick and wheel in the way that only someone who had been driving their whole life could do, with the ease of a man who could probably take this truck and outrun cop cars if he absolutely had to. Not that he would if he didn't have to.

Perhaps he might not need to be on the run here, not when the people who were looking for him would be doing so seventy years in the future.

"Will you tell me about-- us? About me?"

It was a quiet question, maybe three hours into the drive. He was trying to remember all he could for himself, but he didn't have all the pieces.

Steve had been looking at the window, the glass down and his elbow stuck out into the sunshine. The wind had jostled up his hair and he felt more purpose now than he had in most of his life. Since Bucky appeared at his bedside a week ago, Steve had never felt like he was really capable of invoking chance. The first attempt hadn't worked out but he wasn't the sort of guy that backed down. His friend was dead and that was due to his failure. It would not happen again.

They were in the rural parts of Pennsylvania when Bucky spoke, away from the major roadways. They kept passing these little roadside restaurants and Steve was tempted to ask for a stop for lunch even if they could t really afford it. He'd only been out of New York one other time in his life: Camp Lehigh. And now? Just a few days later he'd left again. It was an adventure he needed to experience all of.

The question made him smile.

"We've been friends since we were kids. You saved me. Or helped me save myself I guess, from bullies. I think we've barely been apart since... Once when your family went to the Jersey shore for a week. And then when you were drafted. And-- You boxed. You taught me a little of that but you were the star. Oh and you loved to dance. I use to lay across your bed and watch you get ready for your dates. Everyone loved you. Old women, young gals from lower grades-- I think every guy we palled around with just wanted to be you."

Steve smiled back at Bucky, the sun making his eyes almost green.

Bucky tried to picture it, he used Steve's words as a sounding board to try and coax out memories from the blank canvas of his mind. It frustrated him so much to remember so little, to have forgotten who he should be and be so unsure who he would be in the future. He wanted to be the man that Steve remembered because he sounded happy, he sounded real.

"I don't remember."

He sounded disappointed. His eyes fixed on the road. He might have stopped there, the Soldier wasn't known for his conversation, but he was determined to push forwards because otherwise how would he ever progress?

"I remember a room and a man that looked like you. He had your hair and your eyes, he spoke in a Brooklyn accent and he smiled at me. I remember what he taught me to do."

And it sure as hell wasn't box.

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