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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Mom would'a liked you.

[The words are faintly muffled against Bucky's skin, because when given half the chance Steve is a particularly affectionate barnacle. He never knew the Bucky of before, just the one he is now, but he thinks his mom would understand. Would care, would see why Steve cares.

It's better to think about than the idea that he could lose his friends. It hand't been a choice for everyone he'd lost so far, to stay or go.]

Yeah?

[He'd like to believe that's true, but he's pretty sure that Mama Rogers would not have approved of some jerk who beat her baby boy's face in black and blue.]

I think my Ma would'a liked you too, probably enough to want to adopt you and replace me, she always wanted me to be more polite.

I'm a hellion. [Steve's lips form a smile against Bucky's shoulder as he looks up to him - still just as dopey and adoring.] I just pass as polite. 'Sides, I wouldn't go nowhere without you.

Sure, a hellion who saves cats from trees and helps old ladies when they're being mugged.

[He doesn't forget. Or, he does, but weirdly the things Steve tells him seem to lodge more clearly in his mind than most things.]

So-- tell me honestly, how fucked am I when Natasha sees your face?

[Steve goes quiet and thoughtful for a long moment at Bucky's question. There's the real one that's worthwhile, Steve doesn't have the forethought to play it down.]

... Don't let her be behind you when you're about to go down a staircase for a little while?

[His smile turns a little bitter.]

Right. Good. I'm glad someone's smart when it comes to looking out for you.

You don't have to worry though. I'll protect you.

[Steve sounds VERY determined about that. Even if he's starting to nod off again a little.]

Yeah, Steve, I bet you will.

[He goes quiet after that and just watches Steve sleep for a while, before he steals Steve's phone and texts Natasha to let her know what happened. It's a short, but very honest account of how Steve got hurt and how sorry he is, but he leaves it at that.

Only then does he head back out to the couch to doze himself, not trusting himself to sleep next to Steve, and he's still out cold when Steve's phone starts to ring about an hour later right next to his poor damaged head.]

[Steve is tempted to leave it, honestly, but the painkillers are finally wearing off and the piercing sound doesn't help anything. It's practically in self-defense then that he answers the phone without even checking to see who it is and replies,] Hello?

Steven. Grant. Rogers.

[Natasha's voice is low and deadly, her Russian accent stronger in the way it always is when she's genuinely upset or annoyed.]

James sent you to the urgent care room?

[Uh oh.]

[Steve sits up pretty quickly, winces at the second stabbing of pain from the quick movement, and tries as quietly as possible to look for where the painkillers were left.]

It sounds worse than it is? It was an accident, Nat.

Oh, really?

[She sounds utterly unimpressed.

Steve won't see the painkillers, as Bucky's got them with him out in the lounge. He's taking what the nurse said about monitoring dosages seriously, so Steve only gets pills through Bucky.]

From what I have been told, it sounds as though he punched you in the face. A punch is not an accident, Steven, a fall from a ladder is an accident.

[And Bucky is currently dozing.

Well, the pain isn't debilitating, he can wait longer. He doesn't want to wake Bucky if Bucky's managing to get some shut-eye.]

It's an accident when you're in the middle of a PTSD flashback and don't know where you are or recognize who you're with.

[Bucky didn't fully explain that, but it does explain why Steve is so eager to stick with him. Her voice softens a little, but is no less concerned.]

Perhaps more of an accident. Still, it is not a safe situation to be in, hm?

[To be honest Steve doesn't particularly like the idea of explaining it - if Bucky doesn't, maybe he's not comfortable with it, that kinda deal, but given Natasha and the situation he'd bet money that was the only way she'd understand.]

Neither of us knew what to expect. We do now, we're working on it. I don't... I don't want to go into his personal life for him, but we had a talk.

[She trusts Steve perhaps more than anyone, except possibly Clint, but she knows how much of a soft heart he has and how easily he forgives when it's someone he cares about.

She's not convinced.]

He can work on it while you are friends, there is no reason to ever stay with someone who has struck you. That is a lesson for life, Steve.

[At least he's been downgraded from Steven?]

[He knows she probably has a point, really, and that's basically what Bucky told him too.

Along with being too soft-hearted though, Steve is far, far too stubborn.]

I'm not letting him go, Nat.

[Which sounds less like a soft and desperate plea and more like a promise to jump out of a building after him if that's what it takes to keep Bucky.]

[And that's exactly what she's worried about, he'll cling on so tightly that he might well end up being pulled out of that window and be damaged irreversibly. She can't let that happen, not to Steve, not for anyone.]

If I told you that Clint hit me, no matter the reason, would you be happy if I stayed with him? I want you to be safe, Steve.

This is different, Natasha. Clint and Bucky are entirely different situations.

[because we both no the answer is 'no']

I said we talked about it. If it happens more - then we'll figure something else out. This was just our first night together. Lesson learned.

No.

[It's firm and resolute, as if she has the final say on his relationships.]

Not 'figure something out'. I might be persuaded to forgive one time, one, for a mistake not expected. But I want your word you will not stay if he hits you again, I will not watch you be beaten.

He isn't some raging alcoholic wife beater or a cop on a power trip, Natasha! He's going to teach me boxing so if he has another I'll know how to respond.

And that is why I am willing to forgive once.

[She thinks that's a big ask, and she's only willing to do that for Steve's sake.]

But once, Steven, that is all that anyone should give. Please promise me, as a friend.

[the only reason he promises is because he's so unfailingly certain it won't happen again.]

I promise.

[Natasha breathes a relieved sigh, she knows that Steve never breaks a promise once it's made. A tiny part of her almost hopes that he gets hit again so that he can turn his back on a potentially dangerous relationship, but she's not stupid enough to say so.]

Good. You know it's only because I worry, and because you're an idiot. Now... how bad is it? Do you need me to come round?

It's barely a break. Bucky's been fussing over me. His case worker is going to be stopping by tomorrow, too.

[And because he does adore Natasha but doesn't want to have to referee a fight between her and Bucky if she comes over anyway-]

And in the meantime I'm going to try to talk Bucky into more obnoxiously loud sex so, I'll be fine.

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