Bucky Barnes (
advanced) wrote in
fossilised2017-03-14 08:58 pm
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It's AU time
Building 64 down in the East end of Brooklyn was not a fashionable place to live. The apartments were small, barely more than studio size, and the rent was pretty cheap. Not many people lived there permanently, most people only came and stayed a year or two to get enough money together to move onto somewhere better. But there were two residents who had been there a while.
Steven Grant Rogers, early twenties, who earned his rent doing tattoo designs part time to fund his college course, and occasionally dipped his toe into online art commissions. He'd moved in there when his mother had died four years previously, leaving him enough money to get by, but not enough that he could stop working. And right across the hall was Natalia Romanova, an aspiring ballerina from Russia. She was tough as hell, she had worked herself right through high school, paid her own way to America when she didn't even speak the language, and kept going through tenacity alone.
Somehow a friendship had struck up between them when Steve had been the first person not to look at her like she was an idiot or disgusting for not speaking the language. He'd helped her learn, and they'd been firm friends for the last three years. Everyone else was transient, coming and going, not really making an impact. Natalia had friends and a boyfriend outside of the apartment, but she sometimes worried that Steve never seemed to do anything but work and study.
Which was probably why he would be in his apartment when a loud crash sounded on the stairs outside. Said crash had come from a box of (now very broken) plates and bowls being dropped by the man just moving in to the apartment directly above Steve's, judging by the amount of cardboard boxes that were littering the hallway. He was tall, muscled, dressed in faded jeans and a hoodie with long slightly scruffy hair, leather gloves, and deep blue eyes.
Steven Grant Rogers, early twenties, who earned his rent doing tattoo designs part time to fund his college course, and occasionally dipped his toe into online art commissions. He'd moved in there when his mother had died four years previously, leaving him enough money to get by, but not enough that he could stop working. And right across the hall was Natalia Romanova, an aspiring ballerina from Russia. She was tough as hell, she had worked herself right through high school, paid her own way to America when she didn't even speak the language, and kept going through tenacity alone.
Somehow a friendship had struck up between them when Steve had been the first person not to look at her like she was an idiot or disgusting for not speaking the language. He'd helped her learn, and they'd been firm friends for the last three years. Everyone else was transient, coming and going, not really making an impact. Natalia had friends and a boyfriend outside of the apartment, but she sometimes worried that Steve never seemed to do anything but work and study.
Which was probably why he would be in his apartment when a loud crash sounded on the stairs outside. Said crash had come from a box of (now very broken) plates and bowls being dropped by the man just moving in to the apartment directly above Steve's, judging by the amount of cardboard boxes that were littering the hallway. He was tall, muscled, dressed in faded jeans and a hoodie with long slightly scruffy hair, leather gloves, and deep blue eyes.
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But that didn't make this other version of him any better in the long run. Still, it looked like he had no trouble breathing. That must be nice.
Steve ran a hand through his hair so that it laid perfectly across his skull and offered Tony a seat, which he took, before he shut the door and immediately went into guest mode. He plated some crackers and got everyone a bottle of water. "Thanks. Yeah, mom and I lived here...she left it to me. The neighborhood's getting steadily better but I own the apartment so that's been a really big help. Um...thanks for coming then. To help Loren. I heard he was in real bad shape."
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His smile came back as he picked up a couple of crackers and began to nibble on them, always ready to help replenish what his ridiculously fast metabolism took away from him. The serum was amazing in some ways, but the amount he always had to eat each day was a little annoying.
"No, it's the least I could do-- we could do. I'm sorry that this now has to be awkward, I know it's weird to have to meet another version of yourself. I will be as unobtrusive as possible until the others arrive at the end of the week to help close the rip and then I'll be out of your hair."
His smile picked up at the corners, something so deep and fond in his eyes, unable to keep from asking any longer.
"So-- is Buck here? Uh-- Bucky, James Barnes."
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He had a lot of questions, though none of them really mattered. Learning about Steve's world wouldn't do them any good at the end of the week. He'd go back home, and they would stay here. Whatever knowledge he had wouldn't really help them.
He was also curious as to what was different about their worlds to allow Steve to bulk up like that, to be so tall. It was crazy. But he wasn't narcissistic enough to ask either.
So he focused, instead, on a topic that was vaguely in between. "You know Buck... And Tony and Nat where you're from?"
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"Yeah," he grinned, though he tried to temper down what he would tell. "Nat and Tony are friends of mine, we work together, and Buck is-- Bucky is my husband." It still felt weird to say that, like he was still about to be grabbed by the cops and thrown in jail for liking perverse things, but it also felt amazing.
"I knew you'd know Bucky," he continued. "Doesn't matter what reality I've seen, me and Buck, we're always connected."
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There was a moment of sadness, however, to realize that there was no left hand ring finger to wear a ring for Bucky. Maybe he wore his on his right?
He replaced the moment of meloncholy with a smile instead. They had awhile to discuss that. Hopefully. Besides, he felt vindicated to know that there were all sorts of Steves and Buckeys all over the place.
"How long have you been married?" Steve looked a good ten years older than him, maybe a little more. Had he and his Bucky rushed right into things? It probably didn't matter if they had a cosmic link. God must have wanted them to be together.
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Steve was never embarrassed about being open with his feelings. No matter how many times Nat teased him, or Sam and Tony pretended to be sick, he was never going to tire of saying how much he loved Bucky. He had waited so many years, they had both been through so much, and he had recovered the man he loved from the depths of hell. To say he loved Bucky was a privilege, not something to be avoided.
He fiddled with the wedding band on his finger, he'd miss Bucky while he was here, but they were capable of being apart for a week.
"Trust me, Steve, few months or few decades, you'll never find another man like Bucky Barnes. He's one of the best."
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"Huh? Who me? Why would you say that? I love talking about love."
"You're engaged!" Steve grinned. "You're further along the whole love thing than I am." He just had to point that out.
Tony leaned back against his elbow and looked half over his shoulder at the older Rogers. "I don't think Loren and I are married where you're from, am I right, King Sized? He's evidently an alien in your world and I got the impression that he didn't like me much."
Loki was a mystery. Tony would hopefully never learn how much of an asshole his other self's best friend happened to be. Or about their bond.
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But then things got a bit more awkward with questions he wasn't sure he wanted to answer, hand rubbing into his hair uncomfortably.
"No, uh, right. You're not married, but you are really good friends and you're some sort of shield-guardian for his children in case he ever falls in battle. Something like that. But Loki doesn't like anyone very much, he's kind of... prickly."
"Whoa--" A voice from the bedroom doorway piped up, Bucky standing there in his boxers, a t-shirt, and no prosthetic. "What the hell is Chris Evans doing in our apartment, Steve? Are you shooting around here? Can I get an autograph?"
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He was still chuckling as he passed Bucky, poking around in Steve's art studio because he figured they should have the assumption of privacy here. He was still going to listen and peek out but the idea of privacy was just as important as real privacy.
The younger Steve, who did not like to be equated to Danny Devito of all people, turned eyes nearly as blue as the Chris Evans doppleganger towards his boyfriend. "This isn't Chris Evans. He just looks a little bit like him." Or a lot like him. Damn. That other Bucky was so lucky. His had the defective one who was always sick. "This is uh... Me. Steve Rogers. From another reality beyond the rip in time and space-- I mean, you can still get an autograph if you want," he smiled.
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Bucky's eyebrows shot up and he looked Steve up and down for a moment as if assessing him, before holding out a hand to shake politely. "Good to meet you, weirdly huge alternate Steve." He grinned, the lopsided smile that the older Steve's Bucky had never quite got back properly. "This is so weird, I hope you know that?"
Letting his hand drop, he leaned over to kiss his own Steve softly, lightly, not caring that there were other people in the room. His voice lowered for his Steve's ears only, a soft purr. "Looks like I hit the jackpot with alternate yous, huh?"
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Steve tapped his own, bare, ring finger to get Bucky to look. And maybe not notice that the snark in his voice was a little out of character. Or that the words might not have been said entirely in jest.
He stood and went back into the kitchen to get Bucky something to drink. He’d never had reason to be jealous before, and he knew that Bucky was only teasing, but there was a little bit of guilt too. Bucky deserved better. The Steve in the living room probably could do a lot more for Bucky than he could.
He’d never had reason to doubt himself before and he was trying not to now either.
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Bucky had no idea what Steve was talking about for a few moments, but he could tell something was wrong even without the weird choice of words. It took a second for him to catch on, and then he was abandoning Tony and Steve in the lounge to dart for the kitchen and grab Steve around the waist one-armed.
"Idiot," he muttered, half amused and half annoyed. "I meant you, you big doofus. You're the jackpot, not him, I hit it lucky because I got you and not him. Jesus, you can be dense sometimes, you punk."
He didn't care hat the other Steve looked like. Sure, he found Chris Evans hot, but he wasn't in >i>love with Chris Evans. He was in love with Steve, his Steve, and that automatically made him the hottest and the best Steve.
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Tony sauntered back out of the studio with one of Steve’s sketch books and eyed the taller version with a charming smile. “I’m getting jealous. Maybe I should travel through space to find a Barnes for myself. Not that being a shield-guardian for an alien version of my fiancé isn’t cool…” Okay, it didn’t sound so great. Loren had someone else… Tony never did like being the odd one out.
He handed over the sketch book, as if Steve was going to sign that, honestly, and hummed.
“Why do you look like someone punched you in the gut, Sasquatch?” Steve Rogers and his expressive eyes…there was no denying that seeing Bucky hurt him.
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"Huh?"
He glanced down at Tony with the single worst innocent expression ever, smile at his lips even if his brow was furrowed still.
"I don't know what you're talking about. But-- hey, you don't need to find Bucky, you're married with a daughter where I'm from. Happily married too, really."
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Natalia and Thor were across the way. And then he needed to contact Rhodey-- Actually, Loren might get his wish for a party after all.
“Okay. Let’s get the rest of the gang together. Not here. Too small. I’m over by the river,” Tony said, glancing towards the kitchen were Steve and Bucky were still hugging out…something. He had no idea. Those two were oddly insync all the time. It was crazy. “I guess you’ll be staying with me, unless you want to crash here on the couch? Yeah, that might get awkward, huh? Okay, Bigfoot. Let’s go see if Loren’s brother is over at his girlfriend’s place and get this show moving.”
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"Excuse me," he said into the kitchen, because he would never leave without thanking his host, it was just good manners. "I'm afraid we have to be leaving now to find the others that we need, but it was nice to meet you and thank you for the crackers. Steve, Buck-- I hope you'll be very happy together."
He gave a short salute and went back to Tony's side.
"...they look happy, don't they?"
Maybe he could have that with his husband some day, just an easy afternoon with no shadow of blood and death hanging over them all the time.
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Something on Steve’s face told Tony that he was wrong there. It didn’t matter who you were or what you looked like, there was always heartbreak of some sort of another to deal with. Steve here looked like he’d seen his fair share.
And that was all right. It made him more human.
The journey from one door to another took two seconds and Tony knocked on Nat’s door, expecting a little redhead to show up but no. It was Thor. Who decided that answering doors without pants was a fine choice. “Stark. My brother—“
At least Thor did care about Loren. Tony couldn’t deny that. “He’d fine, just fine. I want to—“
“Woah. Is that Chris Evans at my door?” Nat called, wearing Thor’s shirt, from behind the large blond. “You must give me ten minutes to put on makeup!”
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Thor was a surprise. Not the opening the door with no pants part, he was sadly used to the fact that Asgardians had little or no sense of propriety when it came to nakedness or sex, but because he was... smaller. Oh, he was still huge as far as humans went, still muscled and built like a tank, but he was smaller in comparison to his Asgardian counterpart. Maybe it just wasn't possible for humans to get that ripped.
"It's Steve, actually, Steve Rogers. You guys have been having dreams, right? I'm actually from that other reality, please don't shut the door in my face."
These poor people being dragged into this.
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“Steven?” Natalia’s accent was thick from sleep. “Are you truly Steven? I do not like you this size. You are better off small and cute. But I will still put on my makeup and dress. We shall talk after that. Come in, come in. Thor, you must dress as well.”
Thor shrugged, as if it wasn’t his top priority, but went back to where Nat’s bed was in the corner of the small studio. He didn’t quite fit behind the changing screen, though Tony turned his back to him and exhaled through his mouth as if all of this was tedious. “So are we all like…friends? Me, you, Buck, Thor, Nat, that archer dude, Rhodey…? Because that’s pretty weird. You’d think we’d all be in different areas, not all congregated together. I only just met all of these guys through Loren and if Loren is an alien god where you’re from, how did I meet them?”
It was a good question. That they were all so connected really was strange. Most people in other realities had all sorts of different connections.
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So he lived opposite Nat in this world, that was nice. Nat was one of his best friends, he would never forget all that she had done for him when he had first been pursued by the Winter Soldier, back before they even knew that the man had been Bucky underneath it all.
"The rip here is a mistake, I just want to get it sealed up so you can go back to your lives as they're meant to be. I know that I'm too late to save all the people who died that night, but-- I can at least keep it from happening again."
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“Uh, so you’re here and you gave my fiancé something so he could walk again, which would have been other wise impossible, and now you’re worried about influencing our time line?” That sounded ridiculous. “Whatever you say isn’t going to drastically change the world. Not the same way that aliens appearing overhead for a day did. We did all of this ourselves. We sort of screwed the pooch, yanno? So I wouldn’t worry too much about you decide to say.”
There wasn’t anywhere in Nat’s apartment to sit other than the couch and if he did sit there, he’d be sidled up to a guy that was too big to be comfortable next to so he just stood and waited for first Thor and then Natalia to return to the room.
“Steve’s here to help out until they can fix things on the other end. But there’s a few people we need to have join the party. Nat, looks like you have a friend that used to be an Olympic archer? Still talk to him? Because he’s got five days to get to Manhattan so we can keep aliens from coming to visit again.”
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So he sat in uncomfortable silence until Nat reappeared, a little surprised, but nodding almost at once. She was good at adapting to insane situations and very rarely not in control of herself.
"Of course I know Clint, he is a very good friend of mine. He is disaster. I do not know if he is near or not, I will text him and tell him to come."
She knew that he would, Clint would do anything for her, he may still be a little bit in love with her.
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“Awesome. So this is going really well. Now all we need is Rhodey, J and his girlfriend, right?” No one mentioned Banner to him. Not Loki, at least, and not Loren and while Bruce had said that he had similar dreams, Tony was only going by who was on the list he’d been given. “So good. My place, Friday night. We’ll have a little meet and greet and go over whatever game plan Ken Doll has for us. Oh. Thor. Listen, give Loren like…two more days of rest before you go barging into the hospital. I’m bringing him home then and you can come over.”
Thor looked skeptical. “You have no lift, Stark. How do you intend to get him to your home? Impossible.”
“Pulleys. I have the car lifts and I have a manlift in the garage so we’ll be fine, trust me.” He fully intended Loki to just walk anyway. “And if all else fails, you can suffer all the bruises it takes to carry him for me. Deal?”
Thor took it with a large hand and a hard squeeze. Good enough, Tony decided, wincing at the strength behind the grasp. At least Thor wasn’t going to be a huge problem until Loren got on his feet again. Literally.
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That was Steve, having been listening in and counting off the people that they needed. Bruce was pretty important, sure he wouldn't be the Hulk here (and he was sure the Bruce he knew and cared about was very jealous of that fact), but he was an integral part of the team and would be needed to seal the gap.
"This is so," said Nat. "I have been dreaming of my Thor with long hair, he has told me names and one was Bruce Banner."
Steve glanced sidelong at Tony, wondering why he hadn't just told Thor that his brother would be capable of walking out. It seemed needlessly cruel to let him keep worrying and grieving over such a severe injury when he could be told the truth.
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With Banner, who was his primary care physician thanks to the surgery he had performed in triage, Tony might take a different sort of approach though. He sort of hoped it didn’t come up…even if it would. Of course it would.
“Now suck it in, Rogers, so I can get my arms around you. Time to go home.”
The next morning, with Steve doing something or other to one of the bikes in the shop as payment to be allowed to stay with him (or whatever), Tony went alone to the hospital. Talking with J, Wanda and Rhodey had actually gone really well. Really, really well. Now it was just time to bring Loren back into the fold. So Tony would wait until he woke up.
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get your butt on plurk and tell me how things went yesterday <3
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Heading out now but will tag you when I can <3
Mmmkay
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I just had to google if a severed tongue could be reattached
I did the same before I had Thor pull it out!
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