Bucky Barnes (
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fossilised2017-02-01 11:44 am
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For Steve
The war had been raging for a long time now, and James Buchanan Barnes had been drafted some months ago to ship out to Europe and fight with all the others in the trenches and on the front lines. Telegrams came back daily with the news of more brothers, sons, fathers, and husbands killed. More friends who will never return, and still there was no end in sight.
But then something even stranger began happening on both sides of the timeline.
All the newsreels were reporting strange anomalies centred in New York City and Washington D.C. that could only be explained by time itself unravelling in places. Buildings that changed to vast monoliths of glass and steel for a few minutes and then back again, a faded billboard for asthma cigarettes becoming a full colour motion picture of a man eating soup. Some people had even said they had met men and women claiming to be from the future, though this was all hushed up.
It only lasted a few days, and then it was sorted. Sealed, the government official offices said, just a trick by the Nazis to confuse us. Forget it and go about your day.
But there were pieces of the future lost in the past for good.
The Winter Soldier-- Bucky-- whoever he was now, confused fragmented memories all he had to go on, had been thrown through time unceremoniously into a street that looked altogether familiar and confusing. He hid from the authorities who were collecting all the anomalies with ease, even though his manner of dress was out of place now with jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. He didn't change it. He found his feet taking him somewhere only half remembered.
An apartment with a key hidden under an old brick. Why did he know it was there?
He didn't know. He just let himself in, quiet as a whisper, and made his way through to the bedroom where someone was asleep under the covers. Skinny, blond, somehow also familiar (the man on the bridge? The man in the Potomac? The man at the museum? No, that didn't make sense, that man had bulging muscles, but somehow he was sure they were the same). He didn't say anything, just stood there and watched impassively, waiting for the man to wake up.
But then something even stranger began happening on both sides of the timeline.
All the newsreels were reporting strange anomalies centred in New York City and Washington D.C. that could only be explained by time itself unravelling in places. Buildings that changed to vast monoliths of glass and steel for a few minutes and then back again, a faded billboard for asthma cigarettes becoming a full colour motion picture of a man eating soup. Some people had even said they had met men and women claiming to be from the future, though this was all hushed up.
It only lasted a few days, and then it was sorted. Sealed, the government official offices said, just a trick by the Nazis to confuse us. Forget it and go about your day.
But there were pieces of the future lost in the past for good.
The Winter Soldier-- Bucky-- whoever he was now, confused fragmented memories all he had to go on, had been thrown through time unceremoniously into a street that looked altogether familiar and confusing. He hid from the authorities who were collecting all the anomalies with ease, even though his manner of dress was out of place now with jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. He didn't change it. He found his feet taking him somewhere only half remembered.
An apartment with a key hidden under an old brick. Why did he know it was there?
He didn't know. He just let himself in, quiet as a whisper, and made his way through to the bedroom where someone was asleep under the covers. Skinny, blond, somehow also familiar (the man on the bridge? The man in the Potomac? The man at the museum? No, that didn't make sense, that man had bulging muscles, but somehow he was sure they were the same). He didn't say anything, just stood there and watched impassively, waiting for the man to wake up.
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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."
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"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."
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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."
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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."
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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.
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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."
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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?"
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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.
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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."
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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."
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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.
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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."
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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.
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"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."
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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.
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"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."
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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."
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"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.
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"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.
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"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?"
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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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Some people did. A lot. Even without factors coming into play, human beings just naturally drifted apart very often, it wasn't anyone's fault. But you couldn't go through life pushing everyone away first, that was just dumb. Even Bucky knew that.
"I know what it's like to want to push them away, but at least I'm working towards being good enough to show them that their faith is worth it. What's your excuse? You're still a kid and you're not man enough to face up to yourself. Grow up and realise you don't have to wallow in your own self pity about whatever happened in the past, people are there for you. Steve is. The least you could goddamn do is be there back."
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He could easily do something awful right now. He could force Barnes to do something just to prove he could, but that wasn't who Tony was. He didn't lash out with strength. He might be a bully and an unreliable ally, but he was never going to hold what he had over Bucky's head.
Slamming his dishes in the sink, he returned to his lab. There had been no order for Barnes to follow him, but just in case he had JARVIS bar the way after him. He had little doubt the ex-assassin could force his way in, physically or through other means, but he wasn't making it easy for him.
Tony needed some time to stew. And he didn't need a guy he didn't care for pointing out all of his flaws.
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He went to find a bathroom instead and took a long shower, heat up so high that it almost scalded him, and found fresh clothes. He took his time, he savoured a sandwich that JARVIS helped him find the ingredients for, and he just tried to find himself in the silence of solitude. He would make it back to Grant and Steve, that's why he fought, it's why he wasn't dead.
If Tony came out of his snit then he would find Bucky in the main lounge, pizza box open at his side, dressed in some loose sweats and a t-shirt, watching Return of the Jedi on the massive flat screen TV.
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"Ugh, you went to Crespo's? Supreme has the best pizza. JARVIS, didn't you tell him Supreme was better?" Tony complained, and though JARVIS did give an explanation, Tony ignored it. He was quiet for the rest of the movie, minus a little cheer here and there because he was still a kid, and one point where he told JARVIS to pause the movie so he could make popcorn.
At least he put the giant bowl between them both, half as a barrier and half because Tony wanted to share with some guy living in his house who was not and could never be a friend.
It turned out that time rather than exposure would be the best bet for Bucky. Being around Tony really was exposure enough and he would find himself more and more able to ignore the occasional, accidental commands that the inventor gave. A few weeks passed and Tony got word that Grant had managed to get accepted into Brooklyn institute of art, mostly due to Tony fudging his transcripts, and he brought the news to Bucky with his hands in his pockets.
"We should send something. Like a gift basket of ramen noodles or some paints."
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sorry was doing the aforementioned housework, done now
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Omg enough signal for a waiting room tag, a miracle!
Yay!
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