conflictedsoldier | closed post

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Meme based off of this one here. For

icannotlie.

***

Bucky wasn't sure what was real anymore. After everything that happened, he felt like he was feeling himself fall apart. Memories were coming back, throwing the images at him whether he wanted him or not. He felt dizzy a lot, doubling over in pain when nausea hits. He wasn't sure what drugs they used on him, but the feelings of trying to be human again were painful. Sometimes he couldn't even keep food down.

He'd done well, getting information on his past and still staying one step ahead of Steve. He was good at evasion, hiding before Steve could find him, staying just out of his reach. If he wanted to be found, he would be. No, this was a nostalgia lane trip. The boxing ring at the gym. The street they grew up on. The museum. Everything had to be investigated.

There was only one problem. He didn't have all the answers. Steve would. As much as he hated it, he was going to have to seek out Steve. Because Steve was his weakness. The more the memories returned, the more he remembered how much he had cared for Steve, maybe even loved him.

Seeing his face as he fell from the train was one of the most heartbreaking things he remembered.

Standing outside of Steve's apartment, he wondered if Steve would know he was here. Maybe he should go up and knock on the door? Still, he hesitated. He knew watching the building was probably creepy, but it was hard to describe what he was feeling. Nervous? Worried? He'd never felt like this before.

It scared him.

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"I don't know. I... I haven't thought that far ahead. For once, I haven't planned for variables." His head tilted to the side and he frowned. He had come to Steve for a reason. If Steve didn't have the answers he was looking for, he wasn't sure where to go next.

His eyes narrowed as he turned, gazing at Steve. Glancing down at his hands, he moved over to stand beside Steve. "You're in pain." One hand reached out, covering Steve's hand on the counter. "You... Do you need something?" It never occurred to him that he was the cause of the pain.

Steve's eyes slammed shut at the touch. He wanted to turn and throw himself at Bucky, but he resisted. He knew it wouldn't go over well.

He settled instead for flipping his hand over, lacing their fingers together, squeezing lightly. "Yeah I do but I'm not sure if you can give it to me or not," he said, giving him a gentle smile.

"We can eat and talk okay ?"

His head nodded, eyes drawn down to their hands together. Hesitantly, he squeezed them, letting his thumb brush over Steve's knuckles. If felt weird having Steve's hand in his. It felt right. Like it was something he missed, almost. "Talk. Eat. Right."

Slowly, he lifted Steve's hands to his lips, kissing the knuckles. "Are you still in pain?"

Steve felt the longing awaken in him. It slammed into him like that train that took Bucky away from him. His eyes slipped closed, instead of slamming shut like before. If he closed his eyes, maybe he would wake up, although if he was dreaming he didn't want to wake up.

His breath hitched at the kiss, and opened his eyes slowly, looking at his partner. "Everyday, but I can manage," He whispered out.

"You wanted to talk?"

"I want answers."

He looked up at Steve, his head cocking to the side, brushing long strands of dirty hair out of his eyes. "I went to the museum. Saw... Saw the man you think I am." He knew that he might be Bucky, he probably was. It had just been so long that he didn't know if he could be anything else but the soldier.

"I feel... I know you." He squeezed Steve's hand a little tighter. "I. Know. You."

Steve squeezed his hand in response. No he would not be letting go now. He was so close to everything that he wanted he could taste it, but the realist in Steve was waiting for it to blow up in his face.

"Yeah?" Steve whispered, as he turned to look at him, hope flickering on his face for the first time in a long time. "What can I help you with?"

Bucky nodded his head, not wanting to let go of his hand either. "I remember things. Not... Not many things. Flashes." His hand trembled a little as he stepped closer to Steve.

"I want to remember more. I... I want you to fill in the gaps."

Steve couldn't let himself dare to hope that Bucky.... No, he couldn't do that.

Steve turned fully so that he was facing the man that held his heart in his hand.

"What do you remember?" He whispered. "You know that I would do anything for you."

His eyes closed, not sure just how to reply. His head tilted to the side and stepped closer, burying his face in the crook of Steve's neck. He's quiet, not sure how to say what is on his mind.

"Most of it is in flashes," he said softly. His voice was quiet, barely a whisper. "I remember us. Before the war. I... I remember sleeping on a hard ground, yet someone keeping me warm."

He pulled back, looking up at Steve. "I remember a time before I was a death machine."

Steve hadn't expected Bucky to initiate contact at all, so he stood stock still for a moment before giving into what he had been longing to do since that day on the street.

His arms banded around Bucky and he brought a hand around to cup the back of his head. Steve smiled against the top of Bucky's head.

"You always did hate the ground," He said softly. "That was right after I pulled you out from the camp. I just couldn't... not be with you, but maybe it would have been easier... Losing you almost killed me."

Steve loosed his grip a bit, and let Bucky pull back from him. "You were never a death machine, not to me, okay?"

Edited 2014-05-15 01:44 (UTC)

Steve's words were nice, even if Bucky didn't believe them. He nodded his head, clinging to the man like he was a lost child. In a way, he was. Everything he knew was wrong. The things he didn't know were coming back in out of order images, scattered through his swiss cheese brain.

"It wasn't soft. It was hard to sleep on," he mumbled. "I... I killed a lot of people."

Steve chuckled softly. "It was the ground Buck," Steve whispered. "I think there would be something wrong if it were soft,but if I could have made it soft I would have."

He started to rub his back in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "It wasn't you... You didn't do this."

Steve could feel his body tense as he thought about what HYDRA did to Bucky, what they did to both of them.

It just wasn't fair.

"We both were used, but the question is where do we go from here?"

"They did terrible things to us, Steve. They hurt us. It's hard not to get angry..." He bit his lip, looking up at Steve. One shaky hand reached up, trembling as he cupped Steve's cheek. He almost didn't want the contact, but he needed it. Like he needed answers.

He didn't want to think about the ground. It reminded him of everything they took away from him. "I don't... I don't know. That's why I came here." He sighed, closing his eyes and clinging to Steve once more. "Nobody else understands. Nobody else cares."

Steve's eyes slammed shut at the feel of Bucky's hand on his cheek. Oh God how he missed his touch.

"They can't hurt us unless we let them, right?" Steve whispered out, as he held just a little tighter to Bucky

"I do, I always have, and always will," Steve whispered as he took Buck'e weight against him. "We can get through anything together, okay? Please let me help you."

The problem was that Bucky didn't know how Steve could help. He wasn't sure what he wanted. Even if he did, he didn't think he could voice it in words that Steve would understand. That was why he came to Steve, why he was standing here in his kitchen like some wounded animal.

"Can't hurt..."

Bucky shook, trembling slightly in Steve's embrace. "Not sure how... To help. I just..." He sighed, warm breath brushing against Steve's neck. "Out of time. Not the same. Everything's different." It wasn't like the past that they grew up in. It was very overwhelming to him, having basically two sets of memories, his and the soldier's.

"Did some awful things. Don't deserve this. You."

Steve wasn't fairing much better than Bucky at this point. If Fury could have seen them he probably would have called them every name in the book, but Steve didn't care.

Even super soldiers were allowed to be weak every now and then.

"You think I haven't done things that I'm not proud of?" Steve all but whispered out. His throat right.

"No, I should get to decide who or what I deserve don't you think?"

Bucky did not know Fury. If he did, he would disagree with everything he said. He was a soldier first, not the Bucky that Steve knew him to be. The Bucky that he could feel Steve wanted him to be. There was a small part of him that wanted to be that for Steve as well.

"Yes." Bucky whispered the words out, pulling back to look into Steve's eyes, their faces mere inches apart. "But I know what I deserve. I did things. Bad things. I don't deserve..." He sighed, shaking his head slightly. "You deserve better than a killer."

Steve just couldn't take it anymore. He cupped Bucky's cheeks in his hands. "Tell me no... if you want me not to kiss you.... tell me no," Steve whispered, praying that he wouldn't be rejected.

"Don't you understand that I will never see you that way? I just took down Hydra, or part of it, and I would do it all over again if it meant that I got you."

Kiss. He wants to kiss me. Bucky stared up at Steve, his mind reaching for the definition of the word. He remembered a time, a time with Steve when he wasn't in pain. It was a long time ago. Almost like another life. As he listened to Steve speak, he realized how much he meant to Steve.

This was why he came to the Captain in the first place. He wanted answers, but he was looking for something more than that. He didn't want to be alone anymore. One hand reached out, grabbing Steve by the back of his neck. His face showed no emotion, no smile or frown as he pulled Steve's face forward and kissed him hungrily.

Steve's body literally sagged with relief at finally kissing Bucky. If this was a dream, he didn't want to wake up, and he could die a very happy man.

Steve pulled away, chest heaving slightly, his forehead resting against Bucky's.

"Are you okay?"

For a long time, he's quiet. To be fair, he doesn't really know how to answer Steve. Leaning forward, he rests his forehead against Steve's, trying to smile for his friend. It feels odd, almost forced. He hasn't smiled in so long.

"No, but... It's getting better."

Steve can't help the panic that starts to surface a little bit at Buckly's silence. Steve had thought that he wanted the closeness, but maybe he was wrong... very very wrong.

"I'm sorry," Steve whispered. "If I pushed you too far.... I am glad its getting better."

Bucky shook his head, staring up at Steve. "You didn't push me. You didn't... You didn't break me. This? This is helping me," he whispered. One hand brushed his knuckles against Steve's cheek, staring into his eyes. Leaning forward, he gave Steve another kiss. This one was softer, more gentle as he moved his lips against Steve's.

It was everything they should have had and never got to.

Steve closed his eyes, and leaned into his touch, because he wanted this so badly, that he was afraid that if he opened his eyes, this would be a dream and Bucky would be gone.

He fell into the kiss, enjoying the feelings that one kiss provided him. He could feel his eyes start to burn at the gentleness of the kiss.

He pulled away reluctantly. "Why didn't you stay with me? Why leave me on the beach?"

Bucky's eyes closed and he looked away from Steve. He couldn't face him when he thought of what he did. "I had to," he murmured. "You needed to be saved. I couldn't be there. They would know I did it, they would have taken me away."

He stays quiet, thinking before finally looking back up at Steve. "I needed answers. I couldn't get them in a cage. Please... I'm sorry."

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