fossilised | For Steve

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.

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"I like it when you add that touch of threat under your words. It makes you seem more human." Tony winked at Steve before he left the trio to get another hour or so of sleep before wardrobe would arrive. If Bucky refused to wear something nice, so be it. He figured Grant would appreciate the three piece suits. It was his style. He'd look a little forties gangster-- No. Tony was never going to give up his mild obsession with Grant. Not ever.

He showered and used concealer under his eyes and trimmed up before taking his time picking out something appropriate from the wardrobe that followed him from place to place. Even if he was in a jeans and tee sort of mood, he wanted the option to look dapper. He selected a red tie and a black and grey shadowstripe vest with a gold fob and Avengers symboled cufflinks.

He was less ready for the press conference than he looked, however. He straightened his tie as he rejoined the others on the lawn of a compound the press has never been to before. Thor had shown up, but Rhodey and Barton had kept their distance. Tony was actually pretty broken up about the former.

The latter was probably stuck in an air duct anyway. Barton. Yuck.

Steve looked resplendent in his uniform, shield at his back, the very image of the all-American hero that not even the presses could malign for long. There was just something about Captain America that was too wholesome to pursue for long, he had to be a hero, the public just loved him too much. Grant in his suit, a little too baggy even with the expert tailoring, Thor in his Asgardian finery, Natasha in a neat black skirt suit, Tony in his dapper clothing, and Bucky in his thick maroon hoodie.

He looked nervous as hell, jaw grit and skin pale, but he forced himself to take a step towards the microphones set up at a pedestal as the press pointed cameras of both photographic and film varieties at him. His voice was still too low, too gravelly, but he finally addressed the world.

"My name is-- James Barnes." He swallowed hard. "I died a long time ago. You can read about it at the Smithsonian, I know that I did, I went there when I didn't even know my own name and I read about myself. I didn't know myself because when I fell from the train I was found by HYDRA, they tortured me for a long time. I won't go into what it takes to break a man, but by the time they sent me out on missions, I had no name. I wasn't a 'he', I was an 'it', I obeyed because it was all I knew to do, and if I didn't there was only more pain and conditioning. I was kept in storage like a tool when I wasn't needed, and it was only because of Steve-- Captain America, that I managed to escape that."

He paused, fingers gripping the podium a bit too tightly.

"I am still dangerous. I'm sure you've all seen the footage of what happened at the College of Art. I have flashbacks, I can't deal with loud noises and crowds, and sometimes I don't react in the best of ways. But I'm trying to recover who I was, and I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want to live my life. A life that HYDRA took from me, and I'm not the only one. HYDRA stole the lives from many people, and forced many good people to work for them. They wanted the best when it came to technology, and so it was probably no surprise that they turned to Howard Stark. I can't excuse what he did working for them any more than I can excuse what I did, but I know that he had no choice in it either. They threatened the things he cared about, and when he finally refused to play their game any more, they sent me to murder him."

The silence was deafening, and Bucky's entire posture screamed fight or flight, a man on the edge of running for his life.

"What you're all doing now, maligning a good man, a hero who has helped save the world, because of what his father was forced to do, it's not right. I can't do a lot of things that are good, but I can at least try to right this wrong. That's-- that's it. Are there any questions?"

As had been discussed with the press before, the questions had to come in order. Pepper would go down the row pointing so that Bucky was not overwhelmed. Seeing her take charge in her crisp gray suit made Tony's heart ache but he kept his mouth shut the entire time, eyes forward when possible. A lot of the questions followed the same lines that the students had asked but some reporters wanted details about Finney, even though they had the video now available to them. Others wanted information on Howard and how far he had been compromised, if he had ever knowingly commingled funds, or wanted to know what sort of help Bucky was getting for his PTSD

Tony answered nothing. Anything directed at Steve was pushed away. Focus needed to remain on Bucky and Bucky alone.

By the end, only Thor seemed unstained and inquired about a feast or a sparring session, for he did enjoy training with Captain America. Tony ought to have tried to stay with Bucky but he ended up following Pepper, trying-- Well he wasn't sure. She would never be coming back to him but he had to try. That left Steve to act as guardian and Grant to slip his hand into Bucky's. They were proud of him.

Bucky wasn't the ideal person to give a press conference; his words were too quiet, he answered in as short sentences as possible, and his emotional inflection was often close to nothing. But in some strange ways that worked for him, the horrors that he sometimes described in a few words were more affecting told that way than with sobbing and screaming, and it became easier and easier to see that he really was just a POW who had been badly damaged.

At least the press conference had done its work. By the time another day had passed, nearly everyone would have heard about the tragic tale of American hero Bucky Barnes, and the absolution of any crimes levelled at Stark Industries. Stock began picking back up at once, shareholders suddenly materialised out of whatever holes they had gone into, and Tony was once more a hero. For now. Not to Pepper though, who would be kind and warm to him for she would always love him, but very gently make sure that he knew that they were over. She couldn't do it any more, but she would always be his friend.

Bucky sagged with relief when he finally made it back inside their building with just Grant and Steve, folding himself around Grant to envelop the younger and smaller man into his arms tightly.

"Did you-- did you see it, Grant?" He murmured, voice tight with a shaky chuckle. "That dame on the second row was giving you the eye."

"Are you saying that I can't catch a girl if I wanted one," Grant joked back without even bothering to attempt to push Bucky away. He needed the embrace as much as the other man, likely. He was left to analyze silently if the woman had just been trying to guess how close of a relation Steve and Grant were since their features were identical with the proportions distorted, right up until he realized that Bucky was actually teasing him.

It made him hug Bucky even harder, though the strength of his body was minuscule.

Steve was just taking off his helmet when Grant burst out into laughter. The shield had been propped up against the couch and the blinds around the living room were drawn for privacy. The atmosphere was not at all one that might give way to laughing. And yet-- "She was impressed by the fact that I didn't look like a hobo and probably I was just a more attainable version of Steve. Hm. Did you get her number? Do you think Mr. Stark would have it?"

The taller blond looked back as if what he was hearing was insanity until he too had some of the pressure behind the valve released. His grin was telling. "Are you sure you want to step out with a reporter, Grant? She was old enough to be our mother."

"My mother maybe," Grant scoffed. "You two are in your nineties."

"What? You're suddenly going to leave me just because one reporter gave you the eye? She was probably just trying to figure out how someone who looked like you got to be standing next to me."

He was smiling against the curve of Grant's neck, the expression hidden from view, but still felt against the skin along with the dampness of tears. He was really proud of himself for what he had done today, but also scared as shit and drained, which left him feeling all over the place emotionally.

"Ninety is the new twenty, we're in our prime of life."

His arms clamped even harder around Grant, maybe a little too hard for comfort, but he couldn't make himself let go. He wanted to be holding Steve too, but he couldn't seem to make himself let go long enough to drag the other man in there as well.

That wouldn't be a problem. Once the helmet and gloves were off, Steve easily stepped around the small pile of discarded kit and pulled both Bucky and Grant into a hug. He could taste the tears in the air as they headed up with Grant's skin, a strange side effect of heightened senses, but that didn't bother him. Tears in this case was a relief and Steve wholeheartedly embraced that. Maybe the questions answered, some of which had been so openly insensitive that Steve had wanted to jump over the podium and strangle someone, and Bucky had done it so well and so calmly.

It reminded him of the video that kid in had taken in Grant's class. Everything about that been remarkable up until the the end-- But it didn't change Steve's mind about how it felt. "I agree with Buck."

Grant laughed in the middle of the hug, a tiny rumble against Bucky's chest. "Two against one. That's not fair. Well you both are older and wiser so I guess I better stay and learn from my elders." He would be fine with half a day spent in bed with these two. Tie off. Socks only. Grant had never been one for physicality but now? He'd really gotten used to sleeping with Steve. He just wanted to get used to sleeping with Bucky too.

They were all so very broken in their own ways, this fractured little family holding one another together, but hadn't that been how it always was? He suddenly had a vivid memory of Steve yelling at him and him yelling right back, they'd been in the front room of that cold little tenement that they'd shared after Sarah had died, and Steve was mad that Bucky had picked up extra shifts just to afford him some new drawing pencils instead of buying more food. He could vividly recall how much they had shouted at each other for about an hour, and then how he had come home to a drawing left on his pillow in the new pencils as an apology. He could remember Steve being so careful of those pencils, using them right down until they were nubs.

It made him smile wider, perhaps a reminder that they had always managed to find a way through to happiness in the hardest of times.

"You're both idiots, and I'm the oldest, so what I say goes. And I say you're both punks who don't know how to treat a guy you're stepping out with, neither-- neither of you has asked me to dance even once. I mean, I knew you weren't experienced, Rogers, but this is dumb even for you."

Grant stiffened, or rather, bristled. "You know I have t-- it's not about lack of experience as much as utterly no experience--" came a sputter from under Bucky's arms. It was probably a good reminder, holding him this way, that there was someone in his life who could not actually physically hurt him. And at the same time, Steve cacooning them both, was a man who could stop him from hurting anyone. They were their own perfect failsafes.

The older Rogers actually took a step back, setting hands on his hips. "Uh. Well I haven't either. I promised my first to Peggy Carter.... But the plane went down in the water before I could collect."

Grant struggled to look at Steve over Bucky's arm.

"How've you never stepped out with anyone-- or danced?!" Maybe that was insensitive but it helped that they had the same early life and childhood. Grant was not bullying Steve. Not at all. "you, of all people!" He didn't mention Peggy. That was so weird to him.

Steve snorted. "Time? Lack of willing dance partners? No teacher?"

"Your teacher is back. Let me sit this one out before I wheeze all over you both," Grant said, giving Bucky a small push back against his ribs even as Steve looked pleased and embarrassed.

"Yeah he is. Maybe-- what do you say, Buck? JARVIS, got anything good on tap? Maybe something to Charleston to? That's probably my only speed."

It was exactly what he needed, to protect and be protected, and he was lucky as hell that his two soulmates could do that for him perfectly. He couldn't help but mirror Grant's incredulous expression, unable to believe that Steve hadn't managed to fill his dance card in the years that he had been out of the ice.

"You're hopeless. You look like that, and you haven't even taken anyone dancing."

He shook his head and then released Grant, but not before giving him a very light kiss at the top of his head where the crown of golden hairs sprouted.

"And you were always useless too, two left feet, it's a wonder any dame ever looked at me with you two hanging around all the time."

It was a gentle tease, though, they both should know that Bucky wouldn't have had it any other way. He wasn't sure that he remembered any dance steps, though, and when JARVIS obligingly played a good old Charleston tune, Bucky stood as if frozen for a minute or so.

"I don't know-- Steve, how did it start?"

The Charleston was one step in the typical swing dance that Steve had managed only a few times because Bucky had managed to take the usual front tap-twist, back tap-twist to a sort of new level, all wild legs and beautiful arms doing something magical on the dance floor when combined with other dances Steve had never mastered.

"Shoes off," Steve proclaimed. On carpet, they couldn't really do this with their shoes on. It took him a lot longer to tug off his boots than it took Bucky, but he had them set aside with his other uniform pieces before he stood in front of Bucky. Grant had retreated to the couch, amused and expectant that Bucky would remember once his hips were going.

"It's the first step you ever tried to teach me," Grant chimed in, tugging on someone's MIT sweatshirt that had been left lying around.

Steve nodded and pointed at white socked feet. "Left foot forward to lead. Sort of kick it out, swing it out like this. And when you're on the ball of your foot, twist. Now the right foot you swing back and, yeah, twist." For all of Steve's downplaying, he was actually really fantastic. He even had the arm movements down. Grant was impressed and he applauded too.

Bucky curled white socked toes against the carpet and watched Steve's movements with all the intensity of the Soldier with a target. He stepped forwards to copy, his own movements stilted at first, and then something clicked inside his head. It was like muscle memory, something his body knew how to do without him, and he stepped into the Charleston as if it were a comfortable old suit.

He had always been a good dancer, full of swing and verve, but now he was even better because he had the grace and strength of a fighter behind him. He grabbed hold of Steve's hand and began to try and pull him into the more complicated steps, a huge grin on his face as he realised that he could do this.

It felt good, very good, to do something with his body that his creators had never intended for him to do, like this was helping him reclaim it.

"C'mon, Steve, you call that dancing?"

Steve didn't know the steps. That became clear for the first two minutes. But as Bucky led, memory of watching him with countless partners coupled with his decade or so experience now fighting and the serum infused body he had been gifted made him look as effortless as Bucky. Grant couldn't feel jealous about this as he watched the pair pull and push and twirl and turn each other, not just because Steve was him but because this was perfect. Bucky was having fun. That was all that Grant truly wanted.

He watched from the sidelines, a sense of normalcy overcoming him. Bucky didn't look the way he had in the dance halls and Steve didn't look like any of his partners, this certainly wasn't a dance hall and the day had started off with a reminder of how far Bucky had come and how far he still had to go. These moments capped off a meeting of future and past, balancing the current road above it.

And Grant was just so pleased.

Steve fell easily into the dance, for his part. Bucky was a fine partner and he'd been dreaming of something like this for half his life now. Dancing, yes, but dancing with Bucky.

It was a first he would never forget.

Bucky danced and twirled and moved into steps that his body knew better than his mind, and he gave himself over to it completely. He was one with the music and with his partner, the solid weight of Steve not feeling wrong to dance with even though he had only ever twirled pretty girls with slender waists around. He'd have that again when he danced with Grant and it would be perfect, a different dance for each of his special men.

He only stopped when the music ended, and that was only after JARVIS had already played the record nine times in a row, panting and sweating, but grinning literally all over his face in the first utterly genuine smile that erased all his trauma for the short time it stayed there.

"You got better, I guess."

He kept hold of Steve's hand, and then twirled him to dip him as he had done with all his dames and kiss him, able to stomach the intimacy a lot more when he was the one initiating it rather than the other way around. It was about control, and this gave him control.

A bit breathless, he pulled back and held his hand out to Grant.

"Your turn, doll, you come here often?"

Call him silly, but Steve Rogers was going to remember this kiss for his whole life. He'd already enjoyed the feel of Bucky's mouth on his before, but panting and sweating from an activity that they had done together. He had every thought that it would be the same if they had decided to practice with the heavy bag or spar. It was just amazing to feel this particular way, and that dip and kiss? It colored his cheeks in the way that Bucky had to be very well aware he didn't often do by this point. He was younger in that moment. More boyish. More innocent.

Even Grant had been holding his breath. Watching them glide to a finish had been exhilarating. That kiss had caused parts of him to stir that he tried so very hard not to let get the best of him but there was no twenty four year old man alive that could control how he felt when seeing something he found innately sexual and sensual.

It was no wonder that his eyes had turned so wide up at Bucky when he heard the silly nickname or saw the offered hand.

"I can't... There's no wa-- Steve!" His older brother had bodily lifted him from the couch and placed him in front of Bucky. JARVIS played the music again. Something more subdued. Grant didn't have a head about him right now to have seen which of the two planned for that one. His heart was already pounding as he slowly slipped his fingers against Bucky's palm.

He'd never box stepped before, but the movements were easy once he learned to just slide his feet back and let Bucky lead. Technically, you weren't supposed to look at your partner while dancing like this but Grant couldn't help himself, gazing st Bucky with such awe as he accidentally stepped on his toes.

Bucky intended to remember every kiss with both of them for the rest of his life. He had forgotten so much and had so much ripped from him that he might never be able to get back, that every new memory that was his seemed like something to cherish. Especially moments like this, ones that proved beyond a doubt that there was something inside him far beyond that of a mindless killer.

He didn't care that his toes were being stepped on, it was all the more endearing, and he made sure to guide Grant carefully into the slower steps of the dance. Sensual, body pressed up against his as if to teach with every fibre of his being, expression just as rapt and engrossed as it had been when he had danced with Steve.

"Relax, Grant, you've got this. I won't let you fall."

An echo of words that would probably be more painful to Steve than comforting, but at least Grant wouldn't know the connotations of saving one another from falling.

"I know I'm handsome, but maybe pay attention to the steps?"

Steve was more resilient than to let any out of context words hurt him. He had to seperate his memories from the present becsuse Bucky didn't purposefully try to hurt him. Even if this particular dance was a little heavy for him to watch. He seemed, more than Grant did, to struggle with his jealousy. Perhaps that was because he got to see all of his childhood fantasies played out with Grant because he was still small, still looked up at their boyfriend, and still fit comfortably in his arms. Steve had outgrown all of that.

He just had to keep reminding himself that Grant might be feeling the same way about watching the pair before him swing dance. He'd never be able to do that. And Steve might still enjoy moments like these with Bucky, after all. He wasn't missing out on anything.

Of course, Grant was much more blunt then a disciplined and well schooled Steve had learned to become. He didn't hold back when Bucky teased him in quite the same way. "I never want to stop looking at you," Grant blurted out, as he had done with all of his feelings up until this point when Bucky pressed. "Not ever. To hell with the steps."

Bucky hoped that eventually both of them would stop being jealous of the other, or going through those stupid self-sacrifice periods where they thought that Bucky would be better off just with the other one, but that would come with time. Just like his healing would come with time, and they all had many years together to figure it out.

He snorted, half amused and half touched, and smiled down at Grant. "You know, that's one hell of a mouth you've got on you, Steve'll be washing it out with soap if you don't watch your language."

The steps weren't mentioned again though, and when the dance wore down Bucky just pressed closer and closer until he ended the last chords by bending his head to kiss Grant tenderly. It was a different kiss, a different mood, to the one that he had shared with Steve, but no less meaningful for it.

Where Steve took what he could get, and though Grant had been like that most of the time too, Bucky's initial insistances of the way he felt had given Grant something of an empowerment to take just a little more than he otherwise would. Arms slipped up around Bucky's neck as he opened his mouth to him, eyes closed and breath light against his cheek.

Grant didn't have trouble seeing Bucky kiss Steve, but Steve still looked away when he kissed Grant. Especially like this. It was painfully romantic, especially the way Grant sighed afterward and lightly smoothed down the strings of the hoodie his boyfriend still wore. Grant had gotten bold with showing his emotions as Steve hadn't gotten to yet despite living for several years in this century.

It was amazing how youth affected them differently and how the more innocent Grant pushed the envelop more than the other.

Bucky always privately thought that the reason that Steve had always been so bold when he was young was because he hadn't expected to live that long. The doctors always thought he wouldn't survive long into adulthood, they were honestly surprised that he made it past childhood at all, and so why bother to be cautious when every breath and every day could be the last? Grant still had that, the bold nature of someone with nothing to lose.

Steve had spent a few years with the serum, finally assured that he did have a life ahead of him and strength that he needed to learn to control so that he didn't do damage with it. It had made him more cautious and given him a greater sense of when he might damage something along the way, even emotionally, that was probably the difference between them in Bucky's mind.

He bent his head and kissed Grant again, before stepping back and reaching out for Steve, seeing the way his eyes had averted.

"Grant... you think maybe you could get some food going? I need to do a perimeter sweep, make sure there's no bugs or booby traps, Steve will you come with me?"

The brightness in Grant's eyes were followed with a little salute. Technically, he'd made private. Bucky was a superior officer. He was the only one they wore his dog tags. He relished the little things that neither of the other two did. Again, that was his youth speaking. He wasn't quite as empathic as Bucky when it came to Steve and so he was sure that this had everything to do with food and nothing to do with Steve maybe needing s little one on one time with their boyfriend to see important again.

He'd be making pasta. It seemed to sit the best with Bucky and he could add a lot of things to the sauce that he could liquify. He just hoped that the reporters had all been rounded up and shown out. Bucky should be afforded his privacy.

After Strve got on his boots again and Grant left to return to Building 12, Steve fell into step with his friend. "Do you want to do a whole compound sweep?" It would take an hour, even for the , but would be doable.

"Yeah."

Even though he had an ulterior motive in wanting Steve out with him, Bucky still wanted to do a sweep anyway. He couldn't shake that paranoia that someone would be coming after him, or would be spying on him, and so it seemed important to check for himself that the security hadn't been compromised, even if that was stupid because JARVIS would know at once and Tony's security systems were extremely advanced.

He took them out into the afternoon sunshine, the day balmy and warm, and fell into step beside Steve to begin to head for the outer perimeter.

"You don't like it when I kiss Grant?"

Better to tackle this bluntly.

After constant bombardment when they first met with Bucky's blunt insights, Grant would not feel bad about this at all. It's was Steve's turn to have his innermost insecurities drawn out. Steve rubbed the back of his neck, uniform moving smoothly as if he was gliding through the grasses on a hunt and not just stepping over a well manicured lawn to walk the perimeter of what amounted to a walled in little hamlet.

"Uh... Honestly, it depends?" He had to focus all of that on the form of a question. "Sometimes-- No. I don't. It's a lot for me, Buck. I know he's me. But he isn't me."

Steve wasn't against sharing friends and pencils and laughs or part of his dinner but a lover was difficult for him. What if they ever became more intimate? It worried him that he couldn't cope with that.

"Grant's a stand up guy. I gotta tell you. I feel real bad about it too. Sometimes I just wish he wasn't here and immediately after, I hate myself for it."

"He's not you at all, not any more, you're both your own person."

He was just going to nip that in the bud right away, because he had enough of either of them thinking they could be replaced with another version of themselves. They were distinct, they shared a core of strength and honesty, but their personalities had already evolved in different ways.

"You know when you go out on a mission, sometimes I sit and stare at the phone for hours. He used to try and talk to me, but I wouldn't listen to him. When I kiss you, only you exist, and when I kiss him it's the same thing. I love you both, I need you both, because-- it's like there's these chunks out of my heart, like puzzle pieces, and you both have one. But one isn't enough, because that means there's still a piece missing. Me loving him, kissing him, it'll never mean I love you less, Steve."

Steve was a good guy. He nodded, but it was obvious he found the whole thing disappointing. Not that Bucky was actively watching the phone when he left. Or that he did the same thing when Grant used to go to school. It worried him thst it would make Bucky worse. It couldn't be healthy that he didn't function well when they were away and he was only with the one. Bucky went to visit Tony all the time and he'd never mentioned that.

He was just too much of s gentleman to tell Bucky how much it hurt to be erased when he kissed Grant. Or that they could only be happy when they were all together. Steve would give up anything for Bucky and a personal intimacy with him was just a small price. Almost nothing at all, really. He could handle it.

Steve smiled at his friend. "Still seems a little magical to hear it. That you love me." Yes. He was deflecting. "It's better than I thought it would feel. Still. Even now."

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well that was the wrong account... SUDDENLY SHERLOCK

<3

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