fossilised | For Steve

For Steve

[This is a bad idea.

Bucky knows it as soon as he stops outside the little community centre where these classes run and he sees the other students milling about, chatting to each other in their own little cliques. The thing has been running for a while, it's an art group for anyone with any sort of mental health issue - depression, anxiety, psychosis. He's here for PTSD, practically bullied into it by his therapist at the VA, under the instructions that he needs to get out and start socialising more.

There are only six other people, four women and two men, and it already feels like too large a crowd. He makes sure his prosthetic is properly covered by a glove and long sleeve, stuffed into his pocket so nobody can tell it hangs strangely, and slouches in at the back. From the conversations he can overhear, blonde woman and redhead woman have anxiety issues, brunette #1 and the two men all have depression, and brunette #2 has psychosis. They're all so open with each other, chatting about medications and coping techniques and the work they've been doing in class already.

One of them approaches him and asks his name, and what he's there for, but he just glowers at her until she retreats again. He doesn't want anyone to know why he's here, and he's only here so Wilson will stop goddamn riding him about it.

He slumps into the seat nearest the back and waits for the teacher to arrive, already sure this is going to be a waste of time...]

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No. Fuck, I don't know.

[He has such a hunted look on his face now. He doesn't want to do this, he doesn't want to watch everything unravel because he's too much of a coward to face up to what happened.]

Just go to bed, Steve, you're hurt. You gotta go to the hospital in the morning.

Okay.

[Because Bucky is right, because he's feeling way too tired and fighting it just makes it worse.]

... I want you to stay with me. If not the night at least 'til I fall asleep. And... will you come see me when I get back tomorrow?

[He wants to be with Steve still, of course he does, but he feels sick every time he looks at that bloody nose and the bruising already blossoming on his face.]

...I'll stay.

[He owes him that much.]

We'll take tomorrow when it comes.

Okay.

[Steve knows his friends probably won't be happy, but they also know the kind of stubborn bastard Steven Grant Rogers can be. It doesn't matter, he trusts Bucky, he knew what he was getting into. He loves his friends too but if they have a problem with it they can fuck right off until they're willing to look past it.

When Steve decides to love people, he doesn't do it by half measures. He can't fathom any way to love except giving your heart completely to someone. Maybe that's why it took him so long.

He crawls into bed dutifully. His nose has stopped bleeding so he doesn't have to worry about fucking up the pillows, though he does scoot to one side to allow space for Bucky and holds out his hand as well.]

[He said he'd stay, but he's not ready to just climb back into bed with Steve as if nothing has happened. He shakes his head minutely and nods towards the lounge, out of the bedroom door.]

I'll take the couch.

[They can talk about this more in the morning if Steve really feels like there's still something there to salvage, but right now they both need some space. His head is thudding and his heart rate is still high, he wants to go and sit in the dark on the couch and cry until his throat is scratchy and he falls asleep from sheer exhaustion.]

[If Steve wasn't so exhausted he'd protest anyway. He wants to wrap his arms around Bucky, to feel the contact of skin against skin and to press his face into Bucky's hair. Not even in a sexual way, not even in a sensual way, just to have that physicality of presence that lets him know that Bucky is there and he isn't alone.

He has spent so much time alone.

He is exhausted though, and so he just gently nudges a pillow towards Bucky in offering - if he's going to take the couch he can at least not wake up with a cramp in his neck - and looses that battle against wakefulness pretty quickly even in spite of the pain. Both in his face from the injury and the way his everything aches to have Bucky in bed with him.]

[Bucky doesn't sleep much, but his dog really earns her keep that night. Her weight keeps him grounded and stops him from flashing back any more, and she patiently lets him cry out his frustration at his own idiocy into her fur. He's exhausted by the time morning comes, but far less twitchy and inclined to run off at a moment's notice.

Whenever Steve emerges, it'll be to the sight of Bucky cross legged on the floor half dozing with his head resting on his dog's back.]

[Steve goes to clean himself up in the bathroom when he first wakes, bleary-headed, enough pain that it would be debilitating if he wasn't deeply practiced in it.

God, he didn't see himself last night, but he looks so much worse come morning. The expected swelling and bruising, certainly, but white as a sheet as well. He'd been warned about this though, lived it enough times. He was only so healthy as he managed to keep everything in perfect working order. One bad move and a cascade was waiting to drop down.

Now he was the one sorely tempted to run, to sneak out and try to not wake Bucky and go to Urgent Care on his own so Bucky wouldn't see him this way. Except that would be another patch of dishonesty which he'd done his best to avoid at all costs, and there was no way Bucky would take it well once he found out.

Steve bandaged what he could, took more painkillers along with his morning handful of pills and vitamins, dressed, and headed into the living room. He tried to be as nonchalant as possible. Just another day. No big deal.]

... There's cold pizza in the fridge still, you know.

[Steve...

No amount of faux nonchalance is going to make this any better, not with how absolutely terrible he looks. There's a single moment where Bucky looks content when he wakes up, as if pizza for breakfast sounds like a good idea, and then he opens his eyes properly and his expression melted immediately into horrified guilt.]

Jesus Christ.

[He's seen broken noses before, but this is something else, Steve looks as though he's about to collapse from it.]

Shit-- look at you, you look--

You aren’t the one responsible for my losing the genetic lottery on health conditions.

[The words come quickly, a little frustrated. Bucky has his host of issues he’s sensitive about and would rather not admit to, and Steve isn’t as forthcoming about his as he likes to pretend he is. ‘They’re there, I’m fine, it’s no big deal now’, only works the 95% of the time he’s able to keep everything under perfect control.]

It looks worse than it feels. Do you want to come with me to Urgent Care? I don’t mind if you don’t, it’ll probably be pretty boring.

[Just keep playing it down, Steve.]

[Part of him wants to take that out and run away from this, let Steve go to urgent care and quietly disappear in the meantime. He has his bug-out bag upstairs, he can be gone from this place in ten minutes flat. But-- But Becca would worry, he'd hurt Steve more, and he doesn't want to be that jerk.]

I'll come with you.

[He scrubs a hand over his face, looking kind of lost.]

You mean I did something worse than break your nose because you're already sick?

I’ve never not been sick. This is just life for me.

[He’s worried about Bucky being there for Urgent Care, for Bucky feeling more guilt about whatever Steve’s doctor is going to fuss over now. He’s more worried about Bucky vanishing in the time he’s gone, so he goes with relief to feel instead of dread.]

It’s not far from here. Another reason this building was ideal.

[Hopefully, he holds out his hand for Bucky, trying to not show how desperate for physical contact he feels.]

[Steve looks so hopeful and open, like he really does still want to be with Bucky despite the man knocking his face in last night. He doesn't know if he's so mad at Steve that he wants to shake him for having no self-preservation, or if he's so thankful that he wants to break down and weep on his shoulder.

In the end, he settles for reaching out and taking his hand, albeit with some hesitancy.]

Let me-- I've gotta get dressed and then we need to get you to urgent care as fast as possible.

Okay.

[Steve squeezed Bucky's hand, so damn greatful that he humored steve by taking it. Even with the broken nose and bruising around his eyes and too pale skin that smile was practically glowing. With the reassuring squeeze, he let go of Bucky's hand so he could dress. Which is about when Steve remembers that the clothes Bucky came over in was his Halloween costume.]

Um - you can wear some of my clothes if you want. [That would be... deeply appealing, actually.] We're close enough in size.

Oh, uh-- yeah, I guess I better had.

[He pushes up properly and grabs his prosthetic from the side where it had been left the night before, settling on putting the straps into place while Steve went and found him some clothes to put on. It was sort of weird fixing it on with someone else who could see, but he couldn't go out without it.]

[Steve gets that Bucky is still sensitive about it, so he doesn't watch while Bucky puts his prosthetic back on. He doesn't make a big deal out of not watching, just he's gotta find Bucky some clothes to wear anyway, and that conveniently takes exactly the same amount of time for Bucky to get his prosthetic back on. Comfortably worn jeans and a long sleeved tee shirt from his university along with an additional autumn jacket.]

In case it's chilly out.

[The clothes don't fit perfectly, Steve is slightly longer in the leg and slightly broader in the chest than Bucky, but they fit well enough and he manages to pull it off by looking artfully dishevelled with his loose hair and the jacket half done up. He slips his gloves on, at least he had those with him, to hide the hand, and then he's done.]

C'mon, before you keel over on me.

I won't keel over on you.

[Bold as Steve's words were, the distance to Urgent Care was indeed a short and walkable one. Less than a mile. And still Steve looked ready to keel over by the time he made it to the front desk, still doing his best to pretend there was no problem at all.

There was an easy banter between Steve and the receptionist that implied they were not strangers to one another. She got on his case about not coming in sooner, Steve countered with asking if they weren't so busy last night that he wouldn't have had to sleep in the lobby. The receptionist pursed her lips in displeasure, but it was pretty clear his assessment was right, even if that meant he waited a few hours longer to be seen due to sleep. In spite of looking ready to pass out he was able to verbally walk through all that was needed to get him checked in and slowly made his way to the waiting area.]

She said it shouldn't be too long.

[Bucky hangs back a couple of paces as Steve checks himself in, watching with interest the interplay that happens between him and receptionist. It gives him a glimpse in the life that Steve has mostly kept hidden until now, the frequent trips to the hospital and the ill health lurking just underneath.

It makes him so mad. Someone like Steve shouldn't have to deal with this, he's pretty much the best guy that Bucky has ever met and if anyone deserves an easy ride in life then it's him. But instead he's got a multitude of health problems and a boyfriend that beat him up.]

She didn't ask you what happened to your face.

[Like it was a pretty common occurrence for him to show up looking like his face is a Picasso.]

[In spite of - or maybe because of - Bucky's annoyance, Steve smiles a bit as he has his head tilted back against the mutely colored wall, eyes closed while he waits.]

Told you I was a troublemaker.

I didn't think you meant it.

[Is it comforting or not to know that he's not the only one who's probably broken this nose?]

Didn't anyone ever teach you to box?

[The relief that rushes through Steve at the return of their banter is palpable. They'll get through this. It's not all ruined. It's going to be fine.]

Nope. Never knew anyone who did. Except the ones that were taking swings at me.

Then you learn.

[He still looks awkward, unsure. He gestures between the two of them.]

Because this? It can't even be a discussion unless I know that if that happens again, you can take me down before I hurt you.

[Steve wants to say no, instantly. To refuse. There's no way he could hurt Bucky.

Except. Except...

If their situations were reversed, by god. He knows he would feel the same.]

Will that make you more comfortable?

[Will that make you stay?]

I can't do this if we might end up back here again time after time.

[He shakes his head, something haunted in his eyes.]

I can't have your blood on my hands, I can't. I don't want to lose this, I know that's selfish after what I did, but I'll walk away if I have to. If you can-- if you can take me down, stop me, then I can try and know if it goes wrong then I won't be sending someone I care about to the hospital.

[He'd much rather wake up with his own broken nose.]

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