fossilised | For Steve

"It's no safer for him here," Steve replied, sounding regretful. If it had just been a case of himself, if he had known that Bucky wanted beyond a shadow of a doubt to remain here undisturbed, then he would have gone back. "These time anomalies, I don't pretend to understand them, but I know they're the work of HYDRA. Whether Bucky is here or there, they'll be able to find him."

He hated this. He knew that Bucky had been through a lot, though the way that the other Steve talked it seemed like maybe his friend had opened up a bit about what had gone on, something he desperately wished that he knew too.

"I don't want to force him to do anything, but he'd be safer back-- I have a friend, Tony, he has a home nobody can break into with all manner of security. Bucky could stay there until he felt safe again, he wouldn't even have to talk to me if he didn't want to."

God, that hurt to say.

"But here? Steve, I know you want what's best for him, that isn't here."

"All I can do is ask him to talk to you," Steve said, a pit in his stomach opening so wide he could barely stand. His legs were weak from the thought of what HYDRA from the future might do to the past. He didn't bother to ask what they were hoping to accomplish either. The anamolies had stopped as far as Steve had heard, unless they were going on at other parts of the world. Communication between countries right now werent the best. Not with Europe and Asia so fractured.

He pressed his lips together. Did they know Bucky was back here? Perhaps. Was this their plan to come for him? Doubtful. The anamolies started almost a month before Bucky showed up in his bedroom that night. None of this made sense but Steve knew he didn't have even half of the right answers.

"I... Listen. Is there a place I can contact you at? A number I could call?"

He was not going to make Bucky do anything.

"Buck is his own master now. He makes his own decisions. I'll pass along the message though. But... It sounds less like a safe place and more like a cage to me, Captain."

Steve was achingly familiar with the way that people used his rank to display displeasure with him, calling him Captain as if it were an insult rather than a badge of pride. It didn't quite get that far with the other Steve, but he still felt the sting of disapproval layered beneath his words.

"I would never cage him." That was a sharp snap. "And if you think I would, then you really don't know yourself at all."

Of all the people in the world that would try to use or cage Bucky, Steve would never be one of them. He wished with all his heart that he could give Bucky a place to be safe and leave him be if that was what he wanted, but the world wasn't fair and people weren't always that lucky.

"Fine. Talk to him. I'm staying at the Best Western on Beecher and Lake. Room 16."

Steve didn't bother to retort the misunderstanding. He knew his older self cared for Bucky just as much as he did. He would never think that the Captain would wish to see Bucky harmed in anyway, but he couldn't help but feel that a secure place where nothing could get in sounded a whole lot like a place that would make Bucky go mad. Or worse, shut him down completely.

Steve didn't know this Bucky. He'd fought him, yes, and he'd seen some of that programming break, he'd been saved by him, but he didn't know Bucky. Not anymore. And Steve felt badly about that. His shoulders slumped a little.

"There's something called combat fatigue, right?" Modern day military would call it post traumatic stress disorder and at least half of them would fight the notion of having it as if it made them weak. It was the best way Steve knew to describe how Bucky was. "He's suffering from that. But double it. And then double it again. They took his name from him. His identity. And... They took his humanity too. He was just a weapon, frozen and woken up whenever they needed him. He can't go into a box, Captain." The title was meant for respect. Nothing else. Steve earned his rank ten fold according to Bucky. He ought to be called by it. Especially because Steve was only ever a private. For less than a week. "I don't know how to make you understand that."

Imagining Bucky having gone through all that made Steve feel as if someone had reached into his chest and tugged on his heart, a vicious and agonising wrench. He didn't know what to do for the best, he didn't want to put Bucky in a box or imprison him, but neither did he just want to abandon him when HYDRA were undoubtedly after him and would find a way to hunt him down.

If Steve could do it (admittedly with help from Tony and his amazing brain for science), then HYDRA would be able to as well.

"I don't want to make him suffer, Steve." That was the last thing he wanted. "Nothing about this is a good situation, and I'm not going to strongarm him into coming with me. I just want him to have the option to go somewhere it's safe, just-- just for a while. He'd never be trapped there, he could leave whenever he wanted. Please, just ask him to talk to me."

"Of course I'll ask him to," Steve said gently. He'd already promised to do anything he could to keep Bucky safe, though there was a new caveat to that. Bucky had to want it too. If the other decided to leave him for the future and his bigger, older and stronger self, so be it. Steve didn't have a problem in giving him up under those circumstances.

He'd always have that kiss, that perfect memory of what it was like to be accepted and wanted. He'd always have the smile that followed too. It made him wonder if the Captain had ever enjoyed it. Probably not. They had been at war, brothers in arms, during s time when it was unacceptable. Steve would have never made the first move. He doubted Bucky would have either. And when they had been been around during the future, they had been enemies.

Steve's broken arm was starting to make him sweat despite the cool air. He was feeling a little sick to his stomach from the pain.

"Best Western. Room 16. I'll tell him. Just. Let him come to you. And please don't follow me home."

Steve desperately wanted to follow him home, he was only human and what hid at the end of that journey was what his heart desired more than anything. Of course, he had no idea that this Steve had enjoyed the kiss that he had been dreaming of since the early thirties, since he had first hit puberty and realised that he wanted his best friend in more ways than was acceptable.

"I won't."

He didn't lie, still, it just wasn't in him to do so, so he hoped this Steve would believe him when he gave his agreement. He stepped back, giving implicit permission for them to part ways.

"If I don't hear from him, or you, in the next few days then I'll have my answer. But-- if he doesn't want to, you can come if you want. Just to talk."

And with that, he turned and walked away before he disgraced himself by crying.

Steve knew the tone in his voice and his eyes softened. Making someone that upset was not what he wanted. He felt angry at himself for not being able to explain this better to Bucky and he felt sickened that he still wanted to be the one to come out on top here. He wanted a Bucky that wasn't his by right of time. It wasn't fair to the man he might never become to keep him.

But then again, Bucky was a person. He made his own choices. And Steve did nothing to influence him either way.

So he started the long walk back, glad that his memory was good. He couldn't exactly drive the car but he remembered the way that they had gone and he was used to walking everywhere.

That did not mean that he was in very good condition when he did get home, knocking weakly on the door to the apartment, wheezing a little, and in severe agony.

"Buck. It's me. I'm alone. Buck? Are you in there?"

The apartment door swung open at Steve's weak knock, it hadn't been closed properly and so the latch hadn't taken. Inside, the place looked as if a bomb had hit it, the evidence of someone clawing through all their possessions looking for something specific quite clear from the clothes and furniture scattered haphazardly around.

On the floor by the bedroom door were four bottles of painkillers in varying strengths, obviously newly acquired, and a bag of clothes roughly in Steve's size.

But there was no sign of Bucky himself, and the man's backpack was also missing.

"Mmmmm..." It was the most that Steve could manage to vocalize for several long minutes as he stepped inside and shut the door. He sat back against it, knees up and head down, for a good long time, left overs sitting beside him in a paper container, soaking through to the carpet. He'd been alone before, but he'd never felt so alone.

Eventually, he took some medication. He struggled out of his clothing. He crawled into his bed. He even slept, dreams filled with Bucky abandoning him. It wasn't his best friend's fault. How could it be? He'd been spooked. He ran. Steve didn't blame him when his freedom was on the line. And he would have just slowed him down.

Morning came and with it, just the chill from sleeping alone. Steve cleaned up their things, he put away what he could. He bathed and then dressed.

And then he wrote Bucky a note on the back of a postcard he'd found in a drawer, left by the last tenant. He wrote down the name of the hotel and the address and the room. And then he set off to find his counterpart. Because what else was there for him? He needed answers.

When Steve had finished writing his postcard and opened the door to head out towards the hotel, he would find Bucky sitting on the doorstep like a parcel that had been left by the mailman or a lost dog with nowhere else to go. He looked dishevelled, hair a wild mess around his head even as short as it had been cut in basic training, and he looked up as soon as the door opened.

His eyes were dark, frightened, and desperate.

Bucky scrambled to his feet as soon as the door was open, facing Steve as if unsure if he saw friend or foe, though at least his words were in English when he spoke.

"You're leaving?"

Steve couldn't help but huff in relief, one arm immediately going around Bucky whether the other man wanted it to or not. "I don't have to now," he breathed. "I already found you." He didn't have to seek the Captain's help now. "You worried me sick, Buck. Why are you waiting out here? Come inside."

He wasn't going to take no for an answer either. Luckily, there was no one across the hall from them to watch Steve take Bucky by the hand and tug him into their living room.

And no one to see the smaller man shake a little with the emotional relief he felt running down his spine. His eyes brimmed, but the tears did not fall.

"You can't just do that. You have to leave a note next time. You just-- You left. I didn't know what to do." Steve lightly hit his fist against Bucky's chest and exhaled raggedly.

Edited 2017-02-14 14:14 (UTC)

Bucky could quite easily plant his feet like a tree and refuse to move, Steve wasn't nearly strong enough to bring him inside, but he didn't resist at all. He let Steve pull him inside and shut the door again, he let the smaller man hold him, and he let him hit his chest lightly.

"Sorry."

He hadn't meant to scare Steve, he had just panicked. He had come back here, but then had been sure that Steve would be followed and so he had fled again. He had made it outside of the city limits before he had calmed down enough to realise he had to go back for Steve. He couldn't leave him.

"...does he know? Does he know where we are?"

Though Steve would be happy to hear that he had been returned to, that Bucky left in the first place was what had given him insight into what his older self was feeling. "I asked him not to follow me. He gave his word. He knew we would come to DC. He just happened to run into us accidentally at the bistro." Steve let his hand fall from Bucky's chest and picked up the postcard he had left for him.

Went out to find you. Hoping Captain America can help. Best Western on Lake. Room 16. Your Steve.

Maybe the signature could have been better. Maybe he shouldn't have been so possessive or implied Bucky's possessiveness but he didn't want to lose what he had only just tasted. Not yet. "He had infortmstion. He had a safe place where you can go and no one can get you. He just wants to talk to you because HYDRA is behind all of this-- Bucky, he's me. And since he's me-- He loves you. He just wants to help."

"You think I should talk to him?"

Bucky really didn't want to, but he didn't know if he could vocalise exactly the reason why. He didn't want to hurt Steve, any Steve, and he had a feeling that if he accepted more than one of them into his life that they would all end up getting hurt. He could see it in that signature. Your Steve.

"I'm scared."

Maybe it wasn't socially acceptable for a man to admit that out loud, but Bucky did anyway because it was true. Because he wasn't ashamed of saying how he felt in front of Steve or anyone, shame had been stripped from him years ago.

"I'm scared too," Steve said immediately. "I'm scared that I'm going to lose you to yourself or to the men after you--" He'd admitted so much that after a breath, he continued: "Or to him. To Steve. You're probably safer with him but I-- I don't want to let you go if I can help it." He didn't like being so emotionally vulnerable about this. Hadn't he been enough?

This whole experience was stripping him down and leaving him like a raw nerve, always trying to cover up what he could so as to not make it more awkward with Bucky.

God-- Maybe God had ended up abandoning him after all.

His jaw set, weak and soft. He didn't look very fierce or ferocious but it was clear that he was trying to be.

"I think you should talk to him because you should have all the options, Buck. And I'll be there. You can always run if you need to." With or without him. He'd understand.

"What if... what if I ended up wanting both of you?"

He wasn't saying that would happen, but one of the reasons he was scared of facing Steve was that he feared he wouldn't be able to walk away afterwards. And it wasn't that one Steve was interchangeable with another, but surely this Steve understood. He would have taken both Buckys, wouldn't he, if the other had returned from the war? And he would have loved them both.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, looking as if he might bolt right then and there before he had even made a decision.

"I don't want to lose you either."

Steve absolutely would have loved them both. As friends. At that point, he had never been planning to confess anything to Bucky. He was sure he would have been doomed if he had. He didn't even want to confess it to himself, not really. But he understood what Bucky meant, even if it killed Steve just a little.

It was bad enough to love two men and be friends with them and another to slide into sharing a partner. Wasn't it bad enough that he was attracted to Bucky so unwholesomely already? Steve couldn't school his face properly so he just smiled sadly.

"You're an idiot if you think you'll ever lose me, Buck. I will always be your friend. Always. And if you want him too-- Well why would that change anything? You can have us both. We each want your friendship." And more. So much more. But they were equally good at denying that.

It was a comfort to hear that he wouldn't lose Steve, he didn't know what he would do without him. This Steve, at least, had proven that he wasn't going to trap Bucky or damage him any further, and he had earned Bucky's intense loyalty and need to protect him in return.

"...I'll talk to him."

It didn't seem like he had much choice. The other Steve just kept coming, and this Steve already showed the toll of running even once, pinched expression with pain and pale, he wasn't built for a life on the run.

"I promise I'll come back here to you."

Whether that was to run or talk, he didn't know yet.

Though Steve smiled, his heart was not in it. He didn't reach for a hug and he couldn't bring himself to kiss Bucky so he stepped back. "And I'll be right here waiting for you," he promised.

He was not the only Steve Rogers in this city who was waiting, alone and sad and trying to figure out what to say on the off chance that Bucky showed up, or what to do if the pre-serum version of himself came instead. At least if neither came, Steve wouldn't have to say anything. He would just go back on his primary mission to hunt down HYDRA operatives until Tony's machine could recharge and pin point a spot to either send another Avenger back in time or pluck him out of the past should they destroy HYDRA's ability to come here themselves.

He didn't like waiting. He hated not knowing. It was stressful.

Bucky hesitated only a moment more before he was gone again, leaving Steve in the messy apartment with only his worry and the pain in his arm to keep him company. Though he was frightened, heart seeming to be thudding so loud that surely everyone on the street could hear it banging as loudly as a snare drum, he kept a fast pace towards the hotel lest he bottle out by going more slowly.

Best Western, Lake, room 16.

He slipped in the front entrance and straight to the elevator, which was operated by a black man in a bellhop uniform, and out onto the main floor of the hotel. So many rooms, so many places for enemies to hide. What if this was a trap? His footsteps were stealthy and cautious as he made his way to the door of room sixteen and knocked.

This was it, no turning back now.

The door was opened immediately and Steve felt relief in his heart no matter how much the other man scowled at him. He couldn't help the hopeful look on his face. "I'm glad you came, pal," he said truthfully.

The door would shut behind Bucky but Steve wouldn't block the door. He stayed back so that all edits were open for the other man to run if he needed to.

"Care to sit? I can get you something to drink?" He wanted to be a good host. He wanted Bucky to feel like he could relax here.

It would take more than a drink or an unblocked exit to make Bucky feel like he could relax in this room. His muscles were corded so tightly under his skin that it seemed as if he may as well be made of steel. It was more of a threat to be face to face with this Steve, this was one who could actually possibly restrain him if he wanted to and who had damn well nearly beaten him on the helicarrier in a fight. Probably would have beaten him if he hadn't been determined not to kill or even really hurt his opponent.

"I don't want to go back."

It was immediate and soft, the first words he had spoken to Steve since they had fought above the Potomac.

"I'm hunted there, I'm safe here."

This Stevd had the same softening of the eyes that the other had when they felt sorrow and were trying not to let it be known. The edges of his smile were frayed. He had bad news. Looking at Steve was like looking at a picture book. He was painfully easy to get a good read from. Likely, howevef, because he wasn't actually trying to hide anything.

Not from Bucky, and certainly not when he had been told that the other man had been conditioned into believing he wasn't anything more than a weapon. Steve wanted to be more approachable than Bucky thought him to be.

"It's not, Buck. There are HYDRA operatives here. I've been trying to track them. I just don't have the same resources now that I do back at home. It's safer to be there. We can protect you. I can protect you."

"I have to protect Steve," he said, voice low and level. It was a flimsy excuse and one of the lesser of the reasons that he didn't want to go back, because Steve had already said that he wouldn't lose him no matter what, but it was easier than explaining he feared a trap and he didn't want to put himself in the hands of anyone. Not even Captain America.

He didn't deny that there were HYDRA operatives, though. It sent a cold swoop of fear through his belly, but he could outrun them. He had kept free for at least three months before he had been pulled from his time into this one, he could keep doing it again. Steve might not have the resources here, but surely that meant neither did they.

"Protect me how?"

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