fossilised | For Steve

For Steve

[It's been fourteen months, six weeks, and four days since the Soldier pulled Steve from the Potomac and ran from everything he had ever known. Since he had begun to realise which parts of the world he'd been fed were lies, but hadn't quite managed to pin down which were truths. He knows that Steve has been looking for him. Not just him, but his friends too, most of the Avengers have been roped into Steve's unceasing search.

They never find anything.

He's too good, he knows how to hide. He's seen them - Iron Man once, Falcon four times, Steve twice - but they've never seen him. He's a ghost, just rumours that dry up on the wind. He's not too sure if he wants to remain this way for the rest of his life, he knows he's not ready for anything else, and this feels almost comforting. Anonymous. But something in him has pulled him back to America. He hears on the news what's been happening with the Avengers, he sees that there's a new 'compound' that they're using as a base, though none of the news channels know where it is.

It doesn't matter, he finds it.

There's security systems, of course, but he bypasses them all. He slips close enough past Falcon that he can smell the aftershave he used, but he isn't noticed. He finds Steve's room, easy to tell it's his because of the shield inside the door and the way that the whole place is military precision. Not a habit easy to break even once the army is done with you. He isn't even sure why he's here, just that he's following the instincts of his mind at the moment.

He takes a seat on Steve's bed, cross legged, and he waits.]

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[It's his target, his mission. Captain America. Steve Rogers. It's so strange, the man in front of him is all four of those things at the same time, and yet none of them, and it makes Bucky's head hurt with it. Maybe he's made the wrong choice in coming here, the tension already feels like fingernails digging under his skin.

He doesn't move from the bed, legs still crossed and gloved hands clasped loosely in his lap, but there ends the facade of calm. His every muscle is clearly tensed, and his eyes watch Steve with the intensity of prey that's spotted a predator and isn't sure whether fight or flight is the correct response.]

Walked.

[His voice sounds rough and too quiet even to his own ears, but it's been a long time since he's used it last.]

I'm good at not being seen.

[Yeah okay he walked into that answer. Hearing Bucky's voice is a rush. He's here. He's not some kind of hallucination or... well this could be a dream, except that Steve is far too aware of everything to think that it possibly could be.

He has no idea what to do next. He's been searching for so long, and now Bucky's just... right here. What now?]

Yeah, you are. So what brings you in now? We've been looking for you for a while.

I know you have.

[It's been very close to avoid them on occasion, there's been more than once where he only escaped a hideout literally hours before Steve or one of the other Avengers came to check it out.

A tiny furrow appears at his forehead.]

You're my mission.

[That's why he's here.]

[Steve lets out a deep breath, like he'd been holding it, and his shoulders slump. Okay. Okay, Bucky's here, but he's still in the... mission mode. But he didn't trip any alarms or hurt anyone to get here, so... what does that mean?

Steve walks slowly over to his chair and sits down, telegraphing his motions so that there's not surprise over what he's doing. He sits on the edge of the chair, leaning forward, elbows on his knees and hands clasped tightly together.]

Okay... so what's your mission?

I don't know.

[He finally pushes himself up off the bed, leaving a red smear behind him where he's bled through his clothing. Not that he's showing any signs of pain or fatigue at all, just staring at Steve as if he isn't sure what to do.]

I went to the museum, I saw myself protecting you. Were you my handler once?

[Steve forces the initial disappointment down and away. Bucky still doesn't remember. He can work with that.

He's not sure how to work with it, but he can try. At the very least, it's an excellent sign that he came in on his own.

It's not such an excellent sign that he's bleeding, but Steve is not going to panic.]

No, Buck. We're friends. We've always been friends.

[He swallows and reaches a hand out.]

You're bleeding, Bucky.

[Friends?

It's so strange, he keeps seeing flashes of Steve in the edges of his consciousness. Small and skinny, grinning at him, determined and too dumb to know when to back down from a fight. Was that them being friends?

He's pulled from his reverie by the hand coming towards him, and he's immediately right back against the opposite wall with a knife in his hand, one that appears as if out of nowhere.]

You were smaller.

[He'll ignore what's being said to him, it's irrelevant for now.]

[Shit, okay, hand down, palms out, look as harmless as possible.]

Yeah, Buck. Before the war. I was a lot smaller. Got sick a lot. You remember that?

[At least he doesn't run off any further, he just stays where he is to watch Steve carefully. He looks so familiar and strange at the same time. There's a long pause before he shakes his head, but he looks unsure.]

I don't know, maybe.

[The knife stays out, but isn't being brandished at Steve.]

I should go.

You don't have to.

[Steve's pulse is racing. He doesn't want Bucky to walk out again, especially since Steve's fairly sure if he does, Bucky might be gone for years.

But Steve doesn't want to keep Bucky from making his own choice.

He has to hold back, even though everything in him is crying out for Bucky to stay.]

I can help you. Or... well I can try to help. If you want. It's safe here. You can... we can figure things out, and you don't have to be looking over your shoulder.

[He's going to be looking over his shoulder whether he stays or goes, safety isn't a concept that makes any sense to him any more, but there has to be a reason that he's come here. It was Steve, everything seemed to come back to Steve since he broke with HYDRA. He keeps seeing those eyes, hearing that voice, and it digs right under his skin.

He sinks back down onto the bed, the knife finally disappearing back under his clothing out of sight.]

I want to understand why I know you.

[Because he sure as hell doesn't understand now.]

I missed. When I shot you, I missed.

[And that never happened.]

[Steve had wondered. He's been reading up on the files Natasha found for him, as well as what they've been able to find and decode from the massive data dump, and everything he's read has pointed to Bucky's ruthless accuracy as the Winter Soldier. His missions were characterized by a deadly efficiency, but every time he came face to face with Steve, things got... messy.

That Bucky knows he missed, that he knows Steve... that's encouraging, but Steve knows he can't celebrate yet.]

I can help you. Ask me anything, I'll answer as best I can. You don't have to go.

[Of all the things they wiped from him, that he knows he never missed isn't one of them. He's always been an excellent shot, he has a vague sensation that even in his life before the Soldier he had been a sniper, but somehow he never managed to get a good shot on Steve. It's not like the man isn't big or bright enough.]

You keep saying that.

[He doesn't have to go, but surely that means he has the choice to go. He's tired, though, and he's lost a lot of blood even if he's trained not to show as much.]

Are you going to tell them that I'm here?

[Them being the other Avengers.]

[Oh. Damn, yeah, that's an issue. Steve sighs.]

If you stay here, then yeah, I'm going to have to at some point.

[He frowns, considering their options.]

I could... go with you.

[His expression falls just slightly, like he'd imagined that maybe he could be safe here and kept a secret.]

They'd come looking for you.

[He squares his shoulders.]

I'll go.

[Oh and the way Bucky's face changes just about makes Steve's heart break.]

I don't want you to go, Bucky.

[He frowns, looking at the blood again.]

At least let me help you clean up your wound before you go. No one has to know about that.

[He doesn't trust the others. He's not even sure if he trusts Steve yet, but he definitely can't stay here if the others are going to know about it.

He hesitates, but in the end he nods his head and tentatively sits on the edge of the bed.]

I haven't had chance to do maintenance yet.

[But he'll let Steve do it, even if he's not a proper technician. Bucky has a couple of bullet holes, one in his right shoulder and the other in his right side through his ribs.]

Maintenance?

[Steve mulls that over as he goes to his bathroom and pulls out a first aid kit to bring back to the bed. From the way Bucky's been talking, it sounds like he's still deeply affected by Hydra conditioning, and they treated him like a weapon, so... right. Maintenance.]

What... uh, what do you usually do for maintenance?

I don't take care of maintenance, I am usually maintained by technicians if required.

[His eyes never leave Steve, and his expression is unsure even if his voice is level in an almost trained response.]

...I just need the bullets taking out.

[He freezes for a moment, then forces himself to keep breathing when he notices he's stopped.]

And... how long ago was it you got shot?

[Steve does his best to keep his voice as neutral as possible, but it wavers with the concern.]

Maybe you should come on into the bathroom.

[He shrugs minutely, but he does take a step towards the bathroom door and will carry on all the way if Steve follows.]

Two days.

[He hasn't had time to do much about it, he's been too busy sneaking past the best security in the world to get into the compound.]

You're upset.

[He leads Bucky to sit on the closed toilet, then kneels down in front of him with the first aid kit.]

Yeah, Bucky, I am. Because you shouldn't have to live with injuries like that.

[Steve sighs and looks up at Bucky.]

Will you show me, please?

[It's odd, this is a position that gives him more power, which is actually fairly soothing if he thinks about it. Not that he does, this whole situation is far too confusing to delve into properly.

He tugs his shirt up and over his head, taking the hoodie with it, revealing two nasty bullet wounds. The bastardised serum has stopped him bleeding out or getting an infection, but the one by his ribs is still seeping blood pretty steadily and the one near his shoulder has closed up around a lump that's definitely the bullet.]

...you really have to tell them that I'm here?

[He doesn't want to go, he finds now, but he can't stay if others know. Especially not the Avengers.]

[Even as much as he tries to prepare himself for Bucky's injuries, Steve can't help the breath he sucks in when he sees them. He decides to start with the one by Bucky's ribs, because that'll be easier to take care of quickly. Steve starts pulling out sterilized equipment from his kit, which is less like a home kit and more like an army field kit, because he's goddamn Captain America and his first aid needs are not like most families'. m

He's quiet as he starts working, and he tries to figure out what to say to Bucky.]

I don't want to, Bucky. But this is their home too. I don't have to tell them that you stopped by, but if you wanted to stay, I'd have to tell them eventually. They'd figure it out on their own soon enough anyway.

[He'll sit perfectly still while Steve works on him, as if he can't even feel the pain of having his injuries prodded at and sorted out. He's been trained to endure much worse, and Steve is trying to be as gentle about it as he can, so there's no point in making a fuss.

He just nods, that slight hint of disappointment crossing his face again.]

Then you need to stop looking for me.

[He'll leave after this, and then that has to be it. No more contact. He won't let himself be found.]

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