fossilised | For Steve

If there was one thing that Tony was good for, it was playing the callous, awful human being card. He didn't always pull it out but on someone like Steve Rogers, it had done it's work ten fold. Tony actually felt a little guilty about it, but it needed to be done. Bucky would never do it and if he wanted time without the careful, patient, kind doting that the Rogerses would give him, it had to be Tony to do the dirty work.

He wasn't sure if Steve would forgive him for it, just like he didn't know if Steve was going to forgive him for triggering Bucky or for likely being the main reason that Bucky wanted to be with him now. But that didn't matter. Tony didn't need to be loved or liked. He'd gotten on for most of his life without either emotion from most people.

Of course, right up until Steve had to go and being that gentle, bleeding heart, Tony thought he'd managed to get the blond to leave him alone for good. But no. Steve could never leave it at that.

Somehow, he still managed to make Tony feel worse with his caring. "I know where to find you. Barnes knows where to find you too. And we both know you'll come running as soon as we need you." But it was just as likely that neither would ask for him. Steve was just too good.

Tony pulled the car back into the garage and climbed out before Steve could get his belt off. Captain America could more than keep up.

He'd actually expected to arrive home to the sound of Grant laughing or maybe some talk in the kitchen. Instead, Steve's younger self was sitting on the sofa, watching the city, back to them as the doors to the elevator opened. That was the first time that Tony really felt bad. He had a feeling Bucky told him that he didn't want him moving in so close. Yeah, he should have realized it. What an asshole he'd been. Oh well. True to character.

"JARVIS? I need you to fabricate a copy of the key to that place in Brooklyn for me," he said, loudly. "I think the owner of the apartment is going to want it back." Hey. He wasn't the one that bought up the old tenement. Blame his dad for that one.

Steve might not ever be able to forgive Tony for triggering Bucky, no matter what the circumstances had been, because it was such a violation of self and so damaging. That might remain between them for the rest of their lives, but Steve had already forgiven him for the rest. He forgave him for the harsh words, because sometimes the reality of life was harsh and he couldn't blame a man for telling him the truth.

It hurt a lot, and he knew it would hurt Grant too, but they would neither of them blame Bucky for needing to be alone. They would just have to have hope that he'd come back to them again, and that he'd be strong enough to keep going. And Steve would hope that for Tony too, that he wouldn't cut himself off forever, and he'd believe that he did still have friends that he could turn to.

"Grant-- hey, pal, come on. Let's go. We'll get you set up in your new apartment and then figure out college applications, what do you say?"

He wasn't going to hang around. Tony had made it very clear that he wanted Steve gone, and so he would take Grant and he would collect the key from the front desk as JARVIS had it issued, and he would go. Leaving Tony all alone in his massive tower with one ex-assassin.

"Okay." Grant sounded so far from himself that Tony actually had to leave the room. He went back down to his workshop, the one that the living room overlooked, and threw himself headfirst back into his work. He didn't like to hurt people. He knew that wasn't something anyone would believe, but it was still the truth. He didn't like to hurt anyone. It just happened and he was so callously good at it.

Maybe he ought to settle Ultron on protecting the world from people like himself. That might give him (everything he did was personified, always, Tony never built its) something worthwhile to do instead of trying to be a global shield.

Grant stood up slowly, turning, though his eyes were slow to follow his skull. He let the corners of his lips turn up and he crossed the room towards Steve.

"I don't know where he went," he said. Evidently, Grant's acknowledgement of Bucky's desire not to see him right now, or maybe the hurt in his eyes, had once more driven him away. Bucky was perpetually leaving him any more and he didn't know how to feel about that save for heartbreak. He lifted a hand to wipe a tear from his cheek. He needed to man up a little. None of this was the end of the world. "Mr. JARVIS, can you tell Bucky goodbye for us?"

In any other person, the fact that Steve liked Grant and considered him a friend would probably be considered extremely egotistical and narcissistic. But it wasn't. Steve didn't like Grant because he was the same person as him; he knew he wasn't perfect, he made mistakes and he did things that weren't good. He liked Grant because the guy was nice, pleasant, and polite. He didn't see Grant as another version of himself, he saw him as his own individual who just so happened to share some of the same past and genes.

He swallowed down his own sadness as JARVIS answered in the affirmative, before leading Grant outside and back to the car that they had driven here in. He didn't start the engine yet, though, he just looked over at the smaller man.

"You think Bucky's abandoning you, don't you?"

He felt heartsore himself, sick to his stomach, but he hadn't lost all hope and he didn't want Grant to lose hope too.

"I--" Hearing it get put to words, out loud, left Grant feeling guilty, but it was true. "I think he needs to be someone other than who he used to be. And I think I'm holding him back." He had to adjust the seatbelt so that would actually fit him, tugging down the shoulder strap. It still dug into his neck a little. "It doesn't really matter, Steve. If I can't be what he needs, then I would rather him look to someone that can."

It wasn't just talk. Grant and Steve could never lie like that. Not even to themselves.

"It just hurts. It really hurts. I don't remember what it was like before he found me in that alley. I don't know what it's like to live without him." He hung his head. "But my Bucky died. In the war. He died. And this is someone else. I have to respect that, you know? It's just real hard." He wiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand. "I think I just need to actually mourn for him for awhile. And when he's ready to be friends again, well, I'll be there. And you'll be there. It's what he needs right now."

"If you need to mourn, then you should mourn." Steve was never going to stop someone from that, he had mourned for weeks after he thought he had lost Bucky on that mission. He had carried on, sure, but he had felt as if grief were strangling him every second of every day. If he hadn't let it out sometimes, then he probably would have broken into pieces.

"But you're wrong if you think you have to live without him." He paused and took a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say. Tony and Bucky might think that Steve didn't get it, that he was waiting on the old Bucky, but they were both wrong. He understood far more than they gave him credit for. "I think he wants some space so that he can come back to you, to us. I don't see this as leaving or abandoning, it's just like a vacation. We both know that he's still Bucky, whether he's smiling or not, it doesn't matter. He knows it too, he just has to cement it in his head."

He reached out to put a hand on Grant's shoulder. "You know Bucky Barnes, same as I do, and you know there's nothing in this world that could make him break his word. If he said he won't leave, then he won't. If he goes for a while, well-- then it's just a while, not forever, and he'll come back. We just have to be ready for when that is and not lose hope."

"I know," he said, because Steve had to be hurting too. "I know. I just have to remember that I know." He closed his eyes and let the last part of his grief wash over him. "I think spending a little time on my own here would be good too. I wish Mr. Stark didn't feel the need to just throw money around, but it will be good to be back in Brooklyn and figure out my own way." A tiny smile formed on his lips as Steve put the car into reverse to pull out of the spot. "At least I won't need driving lessons. I've been studying the city. Buses and underground trains... It all seems really easy to get around. But.. We can still visit each other, right? When you're not off saving the day?" He'd really come to like Steve. Yes, they had the same lives up until the day Bucky shipped off, but so much had changed since then and it made them different people. "When you make it to Brooklyn, I mean."

He already knew Steve was going to say he would. And he also knew that he might end up seeing more of Steve than he did of Bucky for awhile. And that was good. No one else could really understand him. Grant had a lot to catch up on so that he could really start to fit into New York of the twenty-first century.

Back in the lab, Tony didn't even look up as he fitted two instruments together, waiting for JARVIS to finish a print out of his latest model. "You can stop hiding in the corner. They've left."

Bucky wasn't sure how he felt about what had happened that morning. To be quite honest, he still wasn't sure whether he really was exactly himself any more yet, the Soldier was still at the edges of his mind and looking at Tony brought the word handler to his head before it brought anything else. It was why when he spoke, and it didn't really come out as a suggestion, he moved to obey without thinking about it.

He stepped out from the shadows of the corner and just stared at Tony. He wasn't sure this was a good idea at all, but he had to be somewhere away from Steve and Grant for a while. Not because they didn't help, or because he hated either of them, but because the hope they looked at him with made his skin crawl with guilt that he couldn't be what they needed him to be.

"I know."

Of course he knew, he was always hypervigilant of his surroundings.

"Thank you for letting me stay, I won't get in your way. You won't even have to see me."

That made Tony laugh. "You're hiding in my lab from the two people that like you and accept you and love you most in those world and you say you're not going to get in my way?" He turned the chair around to grab one of his tools. "I have the worst feeling that all you're going to do is be in my way, but I guess I deserve you."

He needed to do penance, right? At least Tony said exactly what was on his mind. He told things like it was. It was neither more complicated nor simple as that. Bucky was either going to adjust to life in the penthouse of the most sought after building in New York to live or work in or he could go back to the compound. Or to Brooklyn. He had lots of options now.

"You want to help me understand why you're here and not with your pair of hot blonds? Because inquiring minds want to know what your deal is. Your real deal. Not the one I'm just guessing and using as a weapon."

Tony was fine with being the bad guy here, to take the heat off of Bucky and his decisions, but damn. Someone needed to really fill him in on what he was doing or he'd dissolve into some fantasy realm.

Edited 2017-02-26 12:48 (UTC)

It was oddly easier to talk to Tony. Maybe because Tony didn't like him at all, so Bucky didn't expect to see the sympathy and pain that spasmed onto Steve and Grant's faces when they learned some of the things HYDRA had done or some of the madness still in his head. Tony wouldn't care; hell, he might even think Bucky deserved the pain, and that made it easier to express.

Though he did it in a level voice that completely detached him from the situation, even if everything he said was true.

"I don't really know. A lot of the time I still don't know who I am, I just know enough to fake it with Steve and Grant. They're such good people, I don't want to ruin them with what I am and what I've done." What he let people do to him. "But maybe if I can make some kind of-- I don't know, make up to you what I did to your folks, whether that's by letting you punish me or helping you out or-- anything, then maybe I can say that I'm not all bad. Maybe there's enough of a possibility to let me go back to them and protect them. All I want is to be dead, but I can't, so what I want besides that is to protect them and give them a good life."

Stupid, probably didn't make any sense. He was prepared for Tony to tell him that he was being childish, or selfish, or any other insult.

"Besides, I like you."

Tony knew what it was like to want to be dead. It rarely hit him anymore but as a kid, when he tried so hard to get his dad to pay attention to him and his refused, Tony used to think it was just easier to be dead. His dad would be happier right? And he would stop hurting. The trouble was that life and pain went together and death was just a really boring way out that hurt more people than it helped. So yes. Bucky was being really selfish for wanting to be dead but Tony didn't judge him.

"Unless you're some sort of genius under all of that emo, you can't really help me. Plus, it wasn't you that killed my parents. You're just the guy that's trying to cling to some sort of truth that isn't just listening to orders. So whatever. You're barking up the wrong tree there." Tony understood Bucky. He knew that he was never going to be carefree and happy, like the hints of that man he had seen in the videos before the torture. But that wasn't the point. He was pretty sure he wouldn't have liked that Bucky either. "But whatever. If you want to atone, you're in good company. That's what I've been trying to do for years."

Tony was not the best life coach. It was as if he hated hope and sought to destroy it.

"Take a seat. Maybe you can tell me what my dad was like when he was younger. Was he an asshole?"

He didn't need to be carefree and happy, he just needed to be functional. Honestly, that he was still alive and he wasn't spending every waking moment sobbing or cringing from the world was a massive achievement, but it was one that he couldn't see for himself. For all he had been through, that he was even still believing there might be a hope for him, it was a big thing.

He took a seat the second after the order came. Did Tony notice how when he phrased things as an order, or what could be construed as an order, that Bucky obeyed without question?

"I didn't meet him that often, and when I did he was more focused on Steve. He was okay, I guess. Kinda arrogant, selfish, but he wasn't a bad guy. I don't think so, anyway."

Howard and Bucky had never been friends, never been close. Sergeant Barnes was all he had ever been to Howard, important only for his proximity to Steve.

"Sounds about right. That's how magazines used to describe me. Arrogant. Focused. Work oriented. Cold. Calculating. Heartless. I never had a Steve to obsess over. Not that I would. Spent my whole life on your bestie's shadow. Man. I really hated him. I hated him since before I knew what the word was." And wasn't that a kick in the teeth?

No one alive or dead could hate Steve Rogers save for Tony. He was the monster here. His feelings gave it away.

"So let me tell you that my dad was an asshole. He put every ounce of his life into finding Rogers. When he couldn't, he drank, and drinking relaxed him enough to be more of an asshole and more arrogant and come up with brilliant ideas and schemes thst helped out a whole lot of people. But he also liked to hit me. He was never my hero, my dad. But I still look up to him. Even tyrants deserve respect."

Which brought him to another point.

"Sit in the chair over here," he pointed, and watched Bucky do that. "Touch your nose." He watched Bucky do that too. Fun. "You need to get that out of your head," Tony snorted. "Punch me."

Bucky could understand that mindset better than Steve ever would be able to. Steve would just be horrified and tell Tony that his father had been wrong to hurt him, and that nobody who bullied someone weaker than themselves was ever deserving of respect. But Bucky knew that was wrong. He detested all his old handlers, he hated them so much that it made him sick sometimes, but he respected every single one of them. You respect what can hurt you, or you end up dead for your arrogance.

His fingers curled into a fist, but he didn't swing at Tony. His body just started to tremble from head to toe as if someone were physically holding him back from punching even though there was nobody there.

"You don't," he spat out through clenched teeth, trying to change the subject. "You don't hate him, you like him. He's your goddamn friend, and I know that's the truth."

"Hit me." He did like Steve. He still resented him sometimes but the man was his friend. He had trouble admitting it sometimes but that was all ego and for show. Tony liked the showmanship. He liked it when people watched him or looked at him or saw him as something different. He craved it. That was the reality here. He needed the animosity. His dad had shaped his life in that way. It pushed him to be better. And Tony respected thst part of their relationship. The beatings, the kicks or slaps, they were almost nothing compared to being informed. But that pushed Tony too. No wonder he needed the spotlight.

When Bucky still held back, Tony stood and got right into the man's face.

"I ordered you to hit me," he said, making sure not to clench his jaw just in case Bucky did not him. And directed that hit to his face. He wouldn't begrudge the man that, if he did end up following his orders. It would serve Tony right.

And honestly, he wanted it.

Sometimes it was worth it to be physically hurt. It made him do better.

The trembling got worse on the second order, as if Bucky had been pinned by metal stakes through his arms. The muscles of his flesh arm actually flexed and strained against the invisible force holding them back, and sweat popped on his brow. Tony would be wrong if he thought it was Bucky trying to hold back from punching him, it was the Soldier doing both.

He had a failsafe, a deeply embedded set of instructions to never harm his primary handler, the one who spoke the words, no matter what other orders were given. But when the primary handler was also the one telling him to disobey those orders, it created a dichotomy in his head that he just couldn't resolve.

Bucky felt himself fray at the edges, reality warping, and then the third order came from a man up close to him, and he snapped. He staggered back a step and fell to his knees, vomiting violently as his body rebelled against the conflicting orders. He didn't understand why Tony had done this, was it punishment? Why the hell would he give conflicting orders?!

"Я провалил." It came out in retched gasps, his pupils blown wide and honestly he was no longer sure if he was Bucky or the Soldier. All he knew was that he had been given two orders, one old and deeply rooted and one new, and he had failed in them both. "Я провалил. Я провалил. Я провалил. Я провалил."

That answered all of Tony's initial questions. He didn't really want to deal with the vomit, but at least he knew what he was up against now. "So I'm still in handler mode, huh?" Tony sat back down and told DUM-E to come in and clean up the mess before he smelled it. "I guess pancakes isn't enough to change that, but I've got to say, pancakes is usually pretty good to cure almost everything. So we have to figure out to cut this obsession you have with me out of you. It's not that I don't appreciate it, I'm really flattered, honestly, but I like women and I think your boyfriends would kick my ass if I granted you your wish."

Tony was mostly talking just to talk right now, and he was having a very good time being crass and rude. It kept him from feeling too emotionally attached to the idea that he was left holding the leash to a guy that had been experimented on awake and conscious to turn him into a lap dog that never it the hand that fed it.

"No more orders. I'm not good at asking but I guess I don't have a choice. This is going to be bad for the both of us. Steve was your last target right? So what happened between waking up and meeting Grant that kept you from really wanted to kill Captain America?" He really hoped that the answer wasn't going to be time. Tony had other things to do than baby sit someone that needed to be with him because he was his master.

If Steve could see Tony now and the way he had pushed against the programming in so ruthless a manner, he would sure as hell be the one to punch him just like he wanted and he probably wouldn't hold back either. But Steve wasn't there, it was just the two of them and they understood each other oddly better than they should.

"I don't know," muttered Bucky, at least managing to recall himself enough to switch back to English again, throat raw from being sick. "Time, I guess. Exposure."

Maybe it would do Tony good to be babysitting for a while, it would keep him from being alone and who knows? Maybe he could even make a new friend out of it when all was said and done.

"It's complicated, I know you're not my handler but I still see you as my handler. People think-- Steve thinks that the Soldier is just what they made me, but it's part of me and I don't know how to separate the two."

"Yeah, well, you can't regrow an arm and you can't force yourself to to forget that you know how to backflip or shoot a bunch of really impressive guns either," Tony pointed out as DUM-E spread sawdust all over the vomit, and all of Bucky's shoes too if he didn't move away. Maybe the robot would follow after him anyway just to complete it's order. Tony gave all his robots some autonomy, but they weren't free. They were still slaves to their programming. Just like a human being. "You have to live with what you are now. Just have to learn to make the choice of listening to the Soldier or to Barnes. I know both are terrible choices but unless you've got a third personality in there, yiu're really stuck."

Tony turned his chair slightly away from Bucky as he tightened a screw on the device. His latest diagnostic on the Ultron program would be back in a few days and he'd try it again. But until that happened, he was working on a gift for Banner. It wasn't anything major, just a little toy that garble any data it got too close to. Just in case Bruce wanted to go back on the run again or needed to hide from Natasha if the redhead decided to make her flirting a little more obvious for the most romantically challenged person he knew.

"Maybe it would help to try to remove one of the trigger words in the sequence. Not sure if we can remove them all, but if it's all a matter of conditioning, it shouldn't be too hard. We just have to associate one of those words with something that isn't Soldier oriented. Like...one in the middle. People can get over being afraid of spiders by being around them. Exposure, like you said. If we take the power away from that word, it might work. Or you might try to kill me. Either way, should be fun."

He was thinking more word association work. JARVIS could help with that. No one needed to be emotionally or physically scarred here.

The casual insult about Bucky's personality not being a great one to choose either made him laugh all of a sudden. It was a sound that came quietly, as if the man making it had almost forgotten how, but insistently. And it grew and grew until he was leaning on the work bench with a huge grin all over his face. This was what he had been missing with Steve and with Grant; when they saw his suffering, they both seemed to reduce him to nothing but a victim in their mind. This broken and shattered thing that had to be treated so carefully. Tony knew the worst of what had been done, just watched him break, and then casually insulted him.

"You're a goddamn punk, Stark."

But something in his chest eased as the laughter died away, maybe the decision to stay here wasn't such a bad one after all.

"We're not messing with the trigger words, but yeah-- exposure. To you. God help me."

"Uh, do you remember that you kind of made me your boss? So now you're talking back to me? It's a good idea. I'm a certified genius. I have the paper work," Tony complained, though was not a psychiatrist or a behavioralist and he had no idea what he was doing. Aversion therapy didn't usually work with innate behaviors. Now, you could argue that Bucky's were learned but it was hard to tell what was what any more inside that twisted head of his.

He set his little cube down and gave Bucky a hard look. First for the laughter and then for the weird enjoyment the other man seemed to have of his company. Tony didn't like it. He didn't choose Barnes. Rhodey, Banner, maybe Steve (but usually not)-- They got to be pleased to be around him. Barnes was supposed to be on his shit list right now. It just wasn't right.

"There are people that would love to be in your shoes right now. You don't have to bring God into anything. Damn it. Who did I piss off to deserve you?" He rolled his eyes and stepped around the vomit puddle on the floor. "Just for that, I'm going to finish up that cake. And since we're playing Handler here, you can just sit there and watch me do it."

There was a thin line between jokes and what crossed the boundaries into something harmful, and Tony would have to learn it really quickly, because the joking atmosphere dissipated almost at once. Not because Bucky gave a shit about the cake, but because he found himself moving already to go and take up a stance to watch.

"Quit it," he growled, at least already doing better at vocalisation than before. It was like his body and brain existed in separate planes for this. "Stop giving me orders, I can't-- I can't disobey them."

And that felt horrific, he didn't like to be so helpless to another person.

"Thing is, I really think you can." Tony was always cruel. He couldn't help it. It was in his nature to be, especially when he was right. "You just have to work with me here. You wanted exposure right? Well this is exposure. And look. You're already fighting it."

Not with his body but with his mind. When he was the Soldier, his mind was completely integrated into the persona. Obviously that wasn't happening here. Bucky wasn't just aware, he was able to express his displeasure at knowing what was happening to him.

"And I don't want you to like me anyway. You're ruining our working relationship every time you say that." Truthfully, Tony was a good guy. His dislike of Bucky had less to do with Bucky and more to do with his own hang ups and issues.

So upstairs Tony went. If Bucky followed him and watched him eat the cake that Grant had so lovingly made for him, so be it.

Of course he followed, and he watched as every piece of cake disappeared down Tony's throat. It brought up some bad memories, training exercises where he had been starved and forced to watch his handlers eat to check that he had self control, to check that even when his body screamed for something that he would ignore it on orders. He was sweating by the time the last mouthful disappeared, but he just glared at Tony.

"I do like you, you're a good man. You're not doing this because it hurts me, otherwise you'd be ordering me to do-- other things. You think it's gonna help, it's not, but you think it is."

He wasn't expecting Tony to like him, not now and not ever, he honestly didn't expect anyone to like him. He could handle Steve and Grant because they had nostalgia goggles on, but everyone else? He knew he wasn't much fun to be around.

"So if you're gonna work on my issues, maybe I'll work on yours. Why do you keep pushing them away when they care about you, and God knows you obviously want to be cared about?"

"Why are you so quick to dismiss this?" Tony said between bites. He was much too full of chocolate and he was pretty sure that he was suffering more than Bucky because of this. He kept expecting Barnes to grab at the cake or at him, but one little session of forcing the difference between wanting to do something and having to do it wasn't going to break the cycle.

He just hoped he could figure out something else to work on that wasn't cake next time. Maybe he could finally get all of those DVDs alphabetized with Barnes' help? He was about to say something about his he felt about that when Barnes opened his mouth and decided to fight fire with fire.

He couldn't blame him.

And just for that, he decided to be brutally honest too.

"It's better to push people away than have them leave," he said, lowering his fork to the plate. He set his chin on his palm and watched Bucky with calm, Amber eyes. "I'd rather have that control. And... Rogers bothers me. They both do. There's something about that that make my teeth hurt. They're not perfect. They're not all good and fluffy...but they are. And I hate it."

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