fossilised | For Steve

Bruce didn't exactly like leaving Tony alone to deal with this, but he had to respect his choice. Besides, it showed some real growth that the man had thought about the hundreds of other people who would be affected by this rather than just himself, that was a far cry from the Tony Stark that used to be in all the magazines for being an arrogant and selfish playboy.

Tony wouldn't like what JARVIS managed to dig up.

There wasn't a lot of it. Four text files and two very old video recordings in black and white. One of the text files was what he had already seen, the second and third ones were in response to deployment questions, and the fourth one was schematics for a very familiar metal arm. Designed by a Stark, no wonder it had been such good craftsmanship. The first video file showed Howard sat in front of Bucky, the man filthy and chained up. But the audio wasn't working, so it was just a three minute clip of nothing, no way of knowing what one was saying to the other. The second video clip was years later, clearly the Soldier now, stood at Howard's side before the older Stark ordered a reset.

Unaware of what his friend was going through, unaware of anything except the anchoring presence of Steve's hand in his and Grant's body by his side, Bucky glanced out of the window at the green space.

"I'll take you," it was a low promise. "If you make me human, I'll take you driving wherever you want to go."

"You're already human," Steve said, and Grant smiled back over his shoulder. "You just have to remember it."

Of course, remembering it would mean remembering everything. Remembering Howard Stark too. Remembering how he had helped make Bucky the person he was today. And how easily his son had stepped into that role without even realizing the shoes he was filling when Bucky let him poke around with his prosthetic.

Grant leaned back against Bucky with his head tipped to his shoulder, and closed his eyes. "We'll go everywhere. I've seen some of Europe with Steve but I want to see all of America. Coast to coast. I want to draw it all."

Steve grinned. "Actually, pal, I've always wanted to do that too. Gee. Wonder why, huh?"

The car made an effortless turn through the gate leading into the compound and the trees gave way to the large main building where the majority of the Avengers stayed. It was Natasha that met their car, smirk a constant on her painted red lips. "All right, boys? Cap, I'll let you they the bags."

"Yes ma'am," Steve agreed as if he hadn't just spent time today in a police office making preliminary statements on Bucky's behalf.

Bucky stepped out of the car and immediately pulled the hood of his sweater up as if it might shield him from any cameras or surveillance. He might have decided to trust Grant and Steve with literally everything right now, but his other instincts had been dialled up to eleven and he wasn't happy with being so exposed. What if there were snipers? What if they hit Grant or Steve?

"Tony?"

The question came before he even realised he had asked it. But it didn't take him more than a second after that for the longing to set it. Tony represented autonomy, his choices, the first friend he had made himself since the Soldier and the first one who hadn't known him before to still like him.

"He's coming too, right? Where is he?"

Romanoff was a spy, Russian, she could have turned again. This could be a trap. He could take her down if he needed to, he'd beaten her before in a fight. No-- No, he had to stop thinking that way.

"Probably not today. He's working on a few things. But you know we'll be able to track Steve," Natasha said, walking ahead of them with her hands distinctly visible. She understood that she wasn't really a trustworthy person and so she made it s point when dealing with variables to make herself the least amount of threatening as she could possibly manage. Her hips swayed and Grant watched her as he had watched Peggy, though he'd feel more than a little silly if he was caught. Looking wasn't a crime but he was still so young. He was almost a decade younger than Steve and it was difficult to gauge Bucky's actual age. "Tell you what. I'll tell him you're looking for him and he can tell you himself that he'll be with you as soon as you're settled over there."

She caught Grant watching her ass and he blushed up a storm and flailed right into Bucky. It was cute. She couldn't help but grin as she led them across the lawn to Building 7 where Banner was all set up and ready to go, cash in a variety of bills lining backpacks for them all.

Steve set down their items and went over to doubt check with Bruce what was happening.

"So why isn't Tony here...? I know it's like him to flake out but--"

"But I have more things to put together first." Tony smiled from the projection. He could only do that by acting right now. His smile was no where near real. "Sorry kids. Give me a few days and I'll come by? Make sure you pick s nice house. I want my own bathroom. No negotiations on that."

If there was one thing that Bucky knew very well, it was a fake smile. He was the master of them, he gave them every so often when he felt Steve and Grant begin to wilt under the endless days of his blank expressions. And so he saw it in Tony, he felt the wrongness like a sniper's itch at his back, and he was immediately on edge.

"Where are you? No projections."

His head snapped around to Banner and Romanoff. A lot of danger, Banner was the most dangerous of them all, even the Soldier couldn't take on the Hulk. Not and survive.

"Where is he? Do you have him trapped? Is he being forced to say that?"

"Held-- Bucky, jeez, no I'm not being held. I just have to keep this from blowing up. You know that the timelines run concurrent, right? Every day that I'm there means that it's a day I'm not here. If you go missing, and Rogers goes missing, and Rogers' great-great nephew goes missing, that is going to look bad enough." Tony sat back in the leather chair and it squeaked under him in protest at being so wrongly treated. He turned with his knees from right to left and then stood up. "Fine, you want to talk? My office. Just you. Let your Rogers Duo do their own thing."

No one would stop Bucky as he stormed across the lawn and took the stairs two at a time to get to where Tony was sitting. He'd put everything incriminating away, but his eyes still looked so sad and tired and his face was almost too blank for the usual animated grins he tended to put on.

He was no longer wearing a mask and that made him look so old right now.

"We just got a lot of new documents that the guy you killed was evidently record keeper for. The media found it out and I have to put a good spin on it and release it before they do." He let his head fall back against the padded neck rest and watched his friend act like a prowling, caged tiger. "Give me a few days. You and your boyfriends need some time to yourselves, right?"

C'mon Buck. Don't make this hard for him.

"Don't give me that blank look either. We worked too hard on your smile."

Bucky was still on edge when he got into Tony's office and verified for himself that the man wasn't under guard, and that nobody had been threatening him to put on a false smile and stay behind. So why was he looking so haunted? Surely it couldn't be the new files, Tony had sat through a whole night of watching his parents get killed and then Bucky get raped and beaten on film, and he hadn't looked quite so haggard.

Instead of smiling, Bucky's scowl only deepened.

"I want to see them."

He hadn't asked to see any of the files before. No, that was a lie, he had asked once. He asked Steve a while back if he could see the files that they had found, but Steve had looked so stricken and heartbroken that Bucky had taken it back almost at once.

"Show me."

He had already proven to Tony that he could see what they had done and pull through the other side without even cracking his mask.

"Can't you just take a damned step back at let something go?" Tony was trying not to get worked up but he felt miserable looking at Bucky. The person that had made him, that had made Steve, had also had his hand in making Bucky. Everything about this screamed an impossible coincidence but there was no doubt about the evidence.

Tony had run the videos through every program he could think of trying to debunk it. There had been no distortion, no sign of tampering. He'd tried to retrieve the audio to see if Howard had been forced somehow into work with the Russians and the Germans-- But no. No, he had committed war crimes and high treason and it was all on tape. The company that Tony ran was built on HYDRA funds for criminal activities.

Bucky wasn't going to drop it. He could see that Barnes stubbornness right now and so Tony turned away and had JARVIS queue up the video that made the splash. Howard and Bucky together. Recent-- Tony had likely been alive at that point. There was no time stamp but judging by his father's apparent age, Tony would have been ten or eleven, happily ruining the lives of his teachers at boarding school, while Howard enjoyed supplementing his business by reparing and upgrading Bucky's arm.

And now they were done with being friends. That...hurt.

Bucky watched the video from beginning to end in silence. It wasn't a long clip, it didn't even have anything that drastic in it. Just Howard examining the arm while the Soldier sat quietly, and then Howard ordering a wipe. That was it, it didn't even contain the actual wipe.

"Play it again."

"Yes, Sergeant Barnes."

The video played a second time and this time Bucky examined the background, the little details in the corners, anything that could tell him why Tony looked so haggard. Was it seeing Howard with the man who murdered him? Had it reminded him of his hatred for Bucky? That must be it, and that hurt.

"I said I was sorry I killed him. Your Ma too."

Sorry didn't cut it though, did it?

Wow. Tony had been expecting a lot of things. He was sort of prepared to go running for his life, jumping over railings or through glass or something dramatic. But not this! The apology after watching that tape, one that linked them together in a secondary string of uncomfortable pain, left Tony hurting for the sins of his father against his friend. And Bucky was managing to take a high road.

"I'm sorry my dad hurt you," Tony replied. "I'm sorry everyone hurt you but mostly I'm sorry that my family name is stamped into that arm of yours and that I..." Tony wiped his forehead as if he had been sweating, perhaps an unconscious need to pet himself for self comfort had taken over him. He didn't look any better, just a little more fluid, his limbs relaxing as he sat in his chair.

There wasn't much more to say. Nothing that might have made it better for either of them.

"We think... We think he was HYDRA from the start. He might have actually been the one to complete your... Anyway, he definitely designed the machine they used to take your memory. There's part of some plans.. It's his writing. I-- I'm.. If you don't want me to visit you guys at all, I get it, okay? I wouldn't want me either."

Wait-- What? Bucky stared at Tony as if the other man were suddenly speaking a completely foreign language, one which he had no basis of understanding in. This was about what Howard had done to Bucky, and Tony felt guilty about it? He glanced down at his metal arm, flexing the fingers that the older generation of Stark had helped to give him, and then he used that hand to reach out and punch Tony right in the face.

Not at full strength, not enough to break bone or cause significant injury, just enough to knock him down and maybe bloody his lip a little.

"That's for thinking I'm going to hold what your Dad did against you."

Idiot. Stupid fucking idiot.

"I already knew. I remember-- more about being the Soldier than I remember about being Bucky. I remember working under him. I remembered it a long time back, didn't see how it was relevant to anything. It didn't change that I still took your parents from you, and only would've hurt you and Steve to know the truth. You're my friend, he's my-- he's Steve, I didn't want to hurt either of you any more."

The chair once more squeaked in indignity as Tony was thrown out of it and landed on his shoulder and hip. For a moment, he wasn't sure what happened. The punch had been perfectly executed, the swing and the force calculated. So while he was bleeding a little, he'd only be left with a fat lip and some bruising at the corner of his mouth.

"If you didn't want to hurt me, why the hell did you just hurt me?!" Tony shot back in annoyance, picking himself up with a groan after letting the ringing sensation in his ear subside. He held onto his poor chair to get himself to his feet and exhaled slowly, thumb swiping at the blood on his chin. "Because I don't think anyone realizes how much of a liar you are. Damn it!"

But though the words were harsh, the tone was light. Almost comedic. He punched Bucky in the shoulder and then gave him a shove.

"Stop keeping shit from me. All of it. I have sat through enough video after the fact that I know now that I will always want to hear the truth first. No more games and no more secrets and no more hiding behind the whole no memory thing. I'm not buying it anymore."

"Alright."

He could respect that much, at least, and half perched on the edge of the table to fix Tony with one of his thousand mile stares, the sort of blank face he always got when he talked about anything hard to discuss because it made it easier, because he could pretend it wasn't affecting him.

"I didn't see Howard often, he was a consult for my arm, the cryostasis, and the wipe. He never tortured me himself, he never touched me, he never ordered me to kill anyone. He ordered me wiped four times. He tried to withhold the serum he'd been developing, I don't know why, that's why he was killed. I don't know how long he was HYDRA."

He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension.

"Don't tell Steve. He doesn't have much from back then but his memories, I don't want to taint one of the memories he has of a friend. Doesn't matter what Howard did to me, he was good to Steve. And you're right, I'm an amazing liar. I could go out there right now and convince both of them that I had an epiphany and remember everything about James Barnes."

"They'll see right through you." They might be calling the younger Steve by Grant but they were both, inextricably, Steve Rogers. "I think it would be a bad idea to lie to them. Take it from me. Lying to people you care about is a bad idea and-- I still can't come with you right away. So if you do decide to have that epiphany and if they kick you out of the love nest for awhile, you'll have to suck it up."

At least Tony had some ability to see the humor in that even if Bucky was currently emotionless here. He was sorry to see that though. He missed the man who used to cream him at video games.

Picked up agsin, and on his feet for s little while at least, Tony pulled a Bruce Banner on Bucky and lightly set his hand on the other man's shoulder. "I have to prove to the world that I'm not my dad again. I have to save my company and all of the people that work for me. And then I'll come and say hello. Just don't miss me too badly. And do you want me to get some condoms or lube or something...?"

But wouldn't it just be so much easier? To be able to tell the both of them that he was Bucky again, to take those worried looks off their faces and replace them with smiles, to be whole even if just on the outside. It didn't seem like such a bad idea to him, but he wasn't necessarily going to go through with it.

"They had condoms in the forties, Tony. Used to be standard issue to all men in the army during the war, pack of three to keep you safe from VD with prostitutes. Weird, what I remember, isn't it?"

He offered Tony a sudden lop-sided smile that didn't even come close to reaching his eyes and put his hand on Tony's shoulder in return.

"You're the first friend I've made that-- If you need me. Call me. I'll come."

"I can guarantee that 2014 condoms are better than your packs of three." Tony pushed his poor a used chair away from his desk and, because he was very concerned all the time with various diseases or being touched by the unsavory and he and Pepper might have had sex in every room of this place while he was visiting it, all he needed to do was rummage through a drawer and--

Bingo. Gold foils. Pre-lubricated.

"You're welcome," he said, tossing the little packages towards his friend. "I expect full reports on just how those get used when I see you in a few days. And-- while I appreciate the whole come running thing? We control the device from this end so it would be better if I come to you if I need you. First I'm going to strength my thumbs to beat you at Call of Duty. You-- you just focus on you and your blonds."

Tony shot finger guns at his friend and then impulsively hugged him.

"Now look what you made me do. Get out of here."

There was a moment of frozen silence, before Bucky hugged Tony back tight and a little desperately, probably the first genuine emotion he had allowed to show through since he had killed Finney. But he stepped back pretty quickly and slipped the stupid gold-wrapped foil into his pocket.

When he strolled out to the main compound again, he forced himself to look more relaxed, less outwardly tense. It didn't take him long to make it back to where Romanoff had been quietly lecturing Steve and Grant about how recovering from that level of brainwashing and trauma wasn't going to be easy and would probably get a whole lot worse before it got better.

"Geez, you're a ray of sunshine, dollface."

He grinned, and this time it seemed to reach his eyes.

"Come on, let's go, I'm sick of this place anyway."

"Tony's all right then?" Steve asked, arms crossed and a little skeptical until Bucky nodded. His friend was not a liar and so he did expect Tony to be just fine. No one was any wiser about the news about to be released by Tony's own camp and it was how it should be. The me were told to hold onto snything they were planning to bring with them and then they were carefully scanned and put in the room they had arrived in half a year before.

"Don't hold your breath," Banner reminded them before he pushed the sliders all the way up and sent the trio back to where they had been grabbed the last time.

DC had gone back to normal six months after the war and the bloody apartments that had been left behind were cleaned up. They arrived in the upstairs hall with all of their things, a radio playing in the kitchen but no one home.

Grant lamented the lack of a hat but headed immediately to the front door with the other two following him and they hit street level half a mile away from that delightful little cafe with the duck pond.

"I think we should stay away from New York," Steve was saying. "And maybe DC too. Buck? Where'd you think you want to go first?"

Maybe Tony was right, and maybe this was a stupid idea that they would see through, but Bucky couldn't resist. He hadn't been lying when he'd said he was tired of this whole thing, and he knew they were both tired too. He saw it in their strained expressions, in the tears, in the tension. He didn't want that any more for any of them, and it felt like the more that he remembered, the worse off he was becoming. That didn't seem right or fair. The more he remembered, surely the better he should be getting?

Well, he was done with it.

He wanted to be fixed for these two perfect, wonderful men, and so he would be fixed. He was an expert at assimilation with a part when he had to be, it wouldn't be that difficult to extrapolate what he did remember, and what he had read, and make himself James Barnes for them both.

So his movements were already different when they stepped outside, gone was the tension and in its place was a confident sort of swagger with his hands in his pockets. Smile at his lips, literally a picture perfect representation of who Bucky had been back before the war.

"How about Texas? You always said I'd make a good cowboy, remember?"

"You would make a good cowboy," the same voice in two slightly different tones and pitches said at the same time, causing an easy sort of laughter. For now, this all just felt like freedom, a return to the roots that they had lost. For Steve, it was a chance to start again and for Grant, it was a future he never thought to hope for.

They had to be careful here but neither was overly showy of affection in public. They had been raised to keep that under the hood, should there ever become a girl involved in their lives. Not that there had been of course. Peggy didn't exactly count for Steve. And Grant had only momentarily thought she looked swell so that didn't count at all.

Of course, Bucky would be able to get by for awhile with his lies because Steve and Grant were keeping their own emotions at all time highs in order to help keep Bucky boyant. They really thought they were managing too. That was the saddest part of all.

They bought a car, not a truck, nothing so heavy duty, just a good car with good bones. They paid in cash and charming smiles and headed on the road after a good meal. They'd stay in motels along the way, nothing fancy, just two vets from the war and one's little brother.

Steve and Grant slept in one bed to give Bucky his space and given the way Bucky didn't usually sleep so well, he'd be granted the sight of his boyfriends wearing identical faces as they slumbered or, somewhere in Georgia during a rainstorm thst made them pull over early, actually cuddling like puppies in a basket.

The two Rogerses were happy. It was as if those none glorious days in Brooklyn had just been extended indefinitely.

As they were leaving Louisiana, bellies full of road side barbeque, dusk at their backs, Grant spotted a lake and, after longingly staring at it as they drove by the road, finally spoke up about wanting to go swimming.

"There might be alligators," Steve warned as they pulled off the road.

"Are you afraid of gators, Steve," Grant called, already out of the door with his shoes off.

Steve laughed as he looked at Bucky. "I'm such a punk."

It was hard to keep up a facade the whole time, play a part that wasn't him, but it was worth it with every smile he got from Steve and Grant. He could see the happiness entering their eyes more with each passing day, and he saw it in how easily they started to sleep together, all curled up like puppies who had finally done a good day's work. It made him determined never to let the cracks widen and the break that he could always feel under the surface come.

He was so very ruthlessly careful with the act. He was always ready with a quip and a smile, he joined in the conversations much more vocally, he even practised a couple of dance steps in one diner along the way that had a wireless playing. He didn't sleep. Maybe an hour here, an hour there, but always when he had managed to get some time alone because the others had gone shopping or just out to see the latest town or wherever.

Bucky smirked as he slid out of the car and rolled his eyes at Grant, speaking loud enough for him to hear even if he was technically replying to Steve.

"Then we shouldn't worry about gators, all that attitude'll keep them away."

Nevertheless, he did watch the water very carefully, ready to wade right in there and protect Grant if necessary.

"Gators wouldn't dare eat Twinkle Toes," Grant yelled back, stripping out of his clothing. He left it strewn on thick grass and hopped right to the edge of the water in white boxers thst weren't entirely period friendly but would do for now. "Are you two chicken or something?"

Steve glanced at Bucky and shook his head. "I'm gonna kill him," he teased, and went running towards the water to splash and dunk Grant. Bucky could certainly join them if he wanted or watch the water as the stars popped out one by one and the night coated the air with a chill that might have Grant sneezing by the end of the hour.

Indeed, as they drove on later to find a motel with vacancy, poor Grant was wheezing and shivering in the backseat. "Real sorry you guys. Really, really sorry. Didn't mean to... I mean, it was fun, right? A li-- ACHOO!"

"Yeah, well, you always manage to take all the stupid with you."

Bucky pushed himself out of the front passenger seat, leaving Steve alone up front to drive, and into the backseat with Grant. He opened up his coat and pulled the smaller man in for a tight hug, one hand rubbing small circles on his back in a soothing manner and the other mostly focused on drawing him in close to share heat.

"I suppose we've been lucky so far, you were gonna get a cold at some point. Just don't act too dumb and let it turn into worse, okay?"

No. No. No. He could feel the panic clawing beneath the surface of his act, this was something he couldn't stop, something he couldn't protect against. What if Grant got really sick? What if he died? What if-- What if--?!

"I won't," he rattled, sounding worse and worse as Strve drove faster and faster. This was a race against the clock for bed rest but thankfully the vacancy sign on a warm looking bed and breakfast style cottage motel on the edge of the state finally guided them towards home. Steve was first out of the car and to the office to charm the lady st the desk to give him a room. He returned with a large brass key and pointed Bucky, who would probably insist on carrying Grant because of how bad his cough had gotten. He kept saying he was fine but he wasn't and Steve was going to have to dig out the medicines that Bruce had thoughtfully packed for them.

"It's just one bed this time but there's a couch," Steve said as he led the way up the external stairs to the third floor loft.

"Don't be-- Don't be silly. You two bed and I'll do.. I'm small enough to fit on the--". Another set of wet and rolling coughs poured out of him and Grant pressed his face against Bucky's neck as Strve got the door and went to the bathroom the run the tabs hot so he could fill the hot water bottle.

"Buck, we have antibiotics and the inhaler. Probably should take a hit. Grant, you feel any worse than this and we'll give Bruce a call. Okay?"

Grant was so light to lift that Bucky barely noticed his weight at all. It scared him, honestly, that one of the most important things in his life was so fragile and easily taken from him by forces that he couldn't control. He couldn't snipe illness or punch disease, he couldn't go toe-to-toe with God and demand that he make Grant's lungs work properly.

It scared the ever-loving shit out of him.

"Shut up, punk," he muttered, trying to cling to the facade by the skin of his teeth as he carried Grant into the little room and straight into the bathroom to run a hot bath. The steam and heat would help, then he'd get him right to bed all bundled up. "Steve, get those medicines in here. Geez, I thought the serum made you faster, not slower."

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