For all of us who've seen the light

[punched_hitler]

Meme Thread Continuation
From: Here




"Seriously," Steve said quietly, trying to smile nonchalantly, even if he still felt a little on-edge. He took a breath, held, it, then let it out at the question.

"That's the long story part. The short answer is, we've both been on ice. In my case, it was unintentional. In yours - not so much." There. That was the simplest explanation, wasn't it? It was the truth, too, if not all of it. "Honestly, you weren't gone more than a couple of weeks before I... ended up taking a very long nap. I woke up a couple of years ago when SHIELD - that's what the SSR turned into - found me. By accident, it turns out."

He watched Bucky as he spoke, looking for signs that he should stop, that it was too much - or that he could keep going.

Comments

[make_it_hurt]

"And me?" Bucky kept eating his toast, mostly for something to do with his hand. "Where have I been for 70 years?"

Sam said, "Steve..." He wasn't sure telling Bucky everything that had happened to him, or even what little they knew from his file was a good idea.

Bucky looked up when Sam spoke and got to his feet, "Who are you?" He instantly took on the prowl and the look of the Soldier without realizing it.

Some part of him didn't trust Sam. Steve was fine, Steve was his best friend. He didn't know this guy, just that he knew Steve and had been there, before.

"Sam Wilson." Sam looked up and stayed calm. "Hey, I'm gonna go check in with Stark." He got up and turned, walking away calmly.

Once Sam was out of sight, Bucky relaxed, limbs going loose and friendly again.

[punched_hitler]

"Around," was the somewhat weak reply - though that was when Sam stood up, and Steve was cut short. Honestly, that was a good thing, because he wasn't entirely sure what he'd tell Bucky. But the truth was, he agreed with Sam - he didn't think telling Bucky the whole truth all at once was a good idea, either.

But first, they might have a situation on their hands. Bucky tensed, dropping into a completely different stance, which had Steve tensing, too, ready to spring out of his chair. But Sam - a smart man - said he was going to find Stark, and left, all calmly, and Steve was never so glad to have another soldier with him as he was when Sam seemed to know and do absolutely the right thing.

Bucky relaxed, and Steve with him. Still, he couldn't really concentrate on his breakfast, so he just set it aside, leaning forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. "Look, the truth is, we don't know exactly where you've been. You've been so hard to find that some people thought you were a ghost story." Okay, all true. "But from what I can tell, you were on ice for most of that time, too." Also true." Our paths just... hadn't crossed before now."

He paused, his expression turning pleading, as guilt washed over him again, threatening to pull him under. "Bucky... God, Bucky, I thought you were dead. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

[make_it_hurt]

"No, stop." Bucky leaned forward, pressing his fingers into the glass, wanting nothing more than to get there to Steve. "Don't blame yourself, Steve. I shouldn't have survived, you know that. Whatever Zola did to me..." He bit his lip, hating to see that look on Steve's face. "Maybe I should have died, instead of all of this..." he gestured to his missing arm weakly then returned his hand to the glass. "But I'm glad the last thing I'm going to see isn't your face while I'm falling."

[goddammit i thought i posted this like 20 minutes ago.]

[punched_hitler]

"But we should have looked for you. I should have looked for you." He hadn't gone thirty miles behind enemy lines to save his best friend, only to let him slip through his fingers like that. Even Bucky couldn't change that guilt, and not after the way Steve had heard his voice saying just how horrible it was, whether the Soldier had been lying or not. He didn't think he had been. The idea made Steve feel sick all over again, especially with Bucky and his missing left arm literally staring him right in the face.

Even so, Bucky's words made the flicker of a smile appear on his lips. "You're getting sappy in your old age," he said, letting out a breath. "Look. Let me come in there. I can... try to explain what's going on a little better, okay? And I can try to get Stark to give you your arm back."


[XD I do that a lot - just leave the window open thinking I hit POST.]

[make_it_hurt]

"I don't blame you, Steve. We both knew there was no going back. There was no way you would be able to tell where I had fallen. You had to stop Hydra, and you did, and if you had looked for me, who knows what could have happened."

He stepped back. "Come in, then, but I don't see a door. If they have teleporters in the future, I wouldn't be surprised. But I don't want that arm back. It's not mine, it's... somebody else's." His face darkened for a moment, like he was remembering a bad memory, but then the look faded.

[punched_hitler]

"Still." Steve couldn't help but blame himself. He might always blame himself, honestly, but it was just the way he was. He wanted things to have been different, and he would always see that failure as his own.

Of course, Bucky's words made him smile, and he shook his head, standing up. "No, no teleporters." At least, not without that tesseract... and he couldn't think about that right now. He moved - Bucky could see him - over to the other side of the panel, where the electronic release for the door was. He let it swing into the room, then stepped through it, turning toward Bucky. "Although there is a lot to get used to."

He did frown when Bucky said he didn't want the arm back. "Maybe Stark can make you a new one. Your own." After all, the guy was studying it right now. Steve was sure Tony could build a prosthetic arm. One that would be better than what Bucky had had before. "He's not a bad guy. Neither is Sam. You'll just have to give them time."

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky watched the door appear out of what seemed to be flawless glass and rubbed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked up at Steve after a moment. So earnest and yet... He sat and patted the bed next to him. "Sit, Steve." Bucky knew that look of self-doubt. "Don't blame yourself, you punk, or I'll give you more bruises. I don't need a metal arm to do that." He again tried to smile even though he felt like grinning. "And let's not talk about the arm."

He didn't want a replacement. If whatever dark thing lurked in his mind had been the one to use that to try to kill Steve, he would rather it stayed gone.

[make_it_hurt]

Sam smiled. "You want me to come in with you, or would you rather shower alone?" He raised his eyebrows at Steve. He'd already showered, but wouldn't mind showing again if it meant he got to shower with Steve. He was also loathe to leave Steve alone with his thoughts, especially after what had just happened with Bucky. Steve generally refused to deal with his emotions properly, and most definitely if it involved Bucky, or even Peggy.

[punched_hitler]

Steve considered the offer; his shoulders were tensed - his entire body was tensed - but he tried to smile, just a little. "You can if you want to," he offered, worming his way out of his shirt and starting in on the pants - folding them neatly on the counter even though they were dirty and needed to be cleaned. "I don't know that I'll be great company, though." But maybe he shouldn't be alone. Sam was a good friend - a lot more than a friend. Everything was just so complicated, right now. He wanted to wish it all away, but that was cowardly, wasn't it?

[make_it_hurt]

"I don't mind." Sam made no effort to hide the look up and down he gave Steve then reached forward and touched his side, touched the boot-shaped bruise on Steve's side. "That still hurt?" He couldn't imagine Steve would be able to ignore a damaged kidney, but he also wouldn't be surprised if he did.

[punched_hitler]

Steve had gotten better - mostly - about blushing when people gave him the once-over. He'd probably been pretty terrible about it, the first few times, but now he just looked a little embarrassed and glanced at his feet whenever anyone saw him naked. Half of that was because he'd been embarrassed by the skinny body he'd grown up with, and the other half was because he wasn't used to getting appreciative looks other than derogatory ones.

Sam seemed more concerned with the bruise on his side, though - and he couldn't blame him. His side ached it a way that made him want to curl up, and sleeping on that chair last night had not exactly helped. "A little," he said - which was probably a clear lie. It hurt "a little" about as much as getting injected with the serum had hurt "a little." But it wasn't going to kill him, and that was what mattered. "It'll heal. Is there a bench in this shower?" He might need it if he planned to spend any amount of time in there.

[make_it_hurt]

"Yeah. But define 'a little' for me." He touched the bruise then said, "After your shower, you're going to sleep in a bed. Even if I have to drag you there myself and pin you down." Sam smiled and scooted up onto the edge of the counter instead of stripping down to join Steve in the shower itself.

[punched_hitler]

Steve grimaced a little. "Like I'm probably lucky he didn't break any ribs." Maybe Bucky had, but it was hard to tell. "Don't ask me to lean over on that side, or you're going to get some real colorful language." Steve might not normally swear, but he'd been in the Army. He knew all the best phrases.

He offered a wry smile to Sam - "Yeah, you could try" - but he was just grateful for the company, even if Sam stayed out here. He padded into the shower, suddenly feeling much more stiff and sore than he had, even a minute ago. Maybe it was just the promise of a shower that made his body want it all the more. It took a minute (and a little arguing with JARVIS) to figure out the controls, but he eventually got it working. The hot water definitely made him groan with relief, despite how bad he felt emotionally, leaning against the wall for a minute. "Okay. I might not come out for two hours." It felt so good.

[make_it_hurt]

The Soldier looked up at Rogers, watched how he leaned back against the wall in displeasure, then said, mouth full, "I'm just hungry."

Truthfully, he hadn't ever had red meat, since before Barnes was killed falling. It had been an unnecessary luxury for a weapon, they had mostly given him sludgey shakes to drink and IV lines with moisture and nutrients. Solid food hadn't been much on the menu.

Sam rapped on the glass, deciding that yes, Bucky was actually the Soldier - there was no mistaking that look when Steve sat back against the wall.

At the tapping of the glass and Rogers's imminent move to get up, the Soldier placed the tray to the side, trying to stay casual. Then he moved, hand grabbing the back of Rogers's shirt to pull him back, legs locking around his arms, hand on his mission's chin just as he received a vicious jolt from the collar and Sam burst back in.

The Soldier gritted his teeth through the pain and hissed, "Zap me again and I break his neck." Rogers was ready to snap under him and that was overriding the pain - he had the mission and nothing else right now.

[Hope you don't mind I commandeered Steve a bit, I didn't want him leaving the room without the Soldier making his move <3 ]

[punched_hitler]

Steve just hummed - glancing at his lap for the split second that the Soldier had sent that disapproving look his way. He'd looked up when Sam had knocked on the glass, muscles just tensing to see what Sam wanted when the Soldier struck.

Suddenly, he was being yanked backward by the fabric of his shirt; strong legs locked around his arms, and a hand - Bucky's hand - grasped his chin in a cold, uncaring, and definitely intent-to-kill way. He yelped, thrown off-balance for a second, his arms straining against Bucky's legs as Sam came crashing into the room. "Wait - " he said, through gritted teeth, though he wasn't quite sure which of them he was actually addressing. He was trying to get his balance, trying to take that balance away from the Soldier on his back, all without prompting those fingers to do something he knew Bucky would regret. "Stop -" His hand scrabbled for a hold on the soft clothes Bucky was wearing, trying to get enough of a grip that he could reverse their positions, swinging Bucky's body up over his head.

[Not at all! o/]

[make_it_hurt]

The Soldier leaned back, trying to keep Rogers from getting his feet under him. He felt the hand grabbing at his pants, but it was useless - the fabric stretched too much to provide Rogers any leverage with his limited range of motion.

Sam stepped forward, "Let him go, Soldier."

The Soldier's grip tightened instead, ankles locked together in front of Rogers, fingers digging into slightly stubbly skin.

Sam said, calmly, "If you were going to kill him, Soldier, you would have done it by now. Unless you're either afraid of getting shocked, or you really don't want to kill Steve." He looked at Steve, hoping he would calm down instead of continuing to struggle.

"Back off, Wilson!" The Soldier glared, pulling Steve's head around by the chin, pulling as far as he could without dealing the killing blow. He bared his teeth at Wilson, unafraid.

[punched_hitler]

He couldn't get a grip on Bucky's pants, and he couldn't get his feet under him. As the Soldier leaned back, it pulled uncomfortably at Steve's injured side, making him groan through gritted teeth. "Buck -" he ground out, but he wasn't sure he could get through to his friend now. He'd been stupid. Plain and simple, stupid. God, he felt like an idiot, but now was not the time to worry about that. Now was the time to not get killed - and not get Bucky or Sam killed, either.

Bucky's hand yanked at his chin, pulling it farther than felt comfortable. Steve realized what he wanted to do, tensing his muscles against it, but he didn't have the upper hand. It was hard to catch Sam's gaze; he thought he saw Sam trying to look at him, but it was hard to tell. All he could see, out of the corner of his eye, was the Soldier's dark hair, and the bright lights of the room. "Sam's right... I'm right. You don't want to kill me. This isn't you."

Every word cost him to get out, with that hand pulling at his chin. Rather than try to get a grip on the pants, he moved one arm, contorting it almost to the point of dislocating it, trying to pull instead at Bucky's shirt. The problem was, he was trying to pull at his left side, and with no arm, the shirt had just as much give as the pants, and was giving him no leverage at all.

[make_it_hurt]

Sam called, "JARVIS, if you haven't already, would you please get Tony down here?"

JARVIS replied, his voice as calm as ever, "He's on his way already."

"Good, thanks." Sam returned his attention to the pair on the bed again, at Steve's rather futile struggles.

"I'm not Bucky!" The Soldier hissed, gritting his teeth. Sam stepped a bit further into the room, thumb still on the button to shock the Soldier. He pulled his mission's chin further still, pulling his head back so he would find it harder to look at Wilson standing there.

The Soldier should just do it, should kill Rogers right now. Something was stopping him, though. Something clawing from inside his chest, cradling his heart in a broken-glass touch. Something more painful than even the worst of the wipes. He gritted his teeth, and lost his hold on Rogers's chin for a moment before he grabbed it again - instead of twisting, though, he just pulled his head back, exposing the smooth column of his neck.

[punched_hitler]

"No," Steve managed to get out - then gasped as the hand started to loosen, only to pull his head all the way back, which was just as uncomfortable. His hand was still pulling helplessly at the shirt, as he tried to lean forward, but it was hard when he was so disoriented, his eyes seeing nothing but the bright lights of the ceiling and, just out of the corner of one eye, Bucky's - the Soldier's - profile. "But he's in there - and I want him back."

His hand clawed its way farther down the Soldier's back, practically ripping his shirt off in the attempt to find some leverage. His fingers clawed a little against bare skin when he'd pulled the shirt up so much that it was halfway up the soldier's back - and that was when the cell door opened again.

"You know, for an All-American mascot, you sure are into S&M," Tony Stark said, glancing to Sam. "I think he likes wrestling with the inmates, don't you?"

He sighed, starting to circle around the room. "Let the nice, American Soldier go, crazy Ruskie."

[make_it_hurt]

Dr. Goss hummed. "Physical trauma? Like what? Anything self-inflicted? I would like to, if not actually visit him, to maybe do something like a video conference. When he isn't Bucky, when he's one of the other two, is he violent?"

Sam stood, "I'm going to talk to Stark, okay?" He smiled and kissed Steve on the lips then headed up to Tony's lab.

[punched_hitler]

Steve nodded, squeezing Sam's knee as the other stood up, kissing him back before Sam headed out the door and left Steve to answer the doctor's questions.

"Not self-inflicted, no." Steve paused, but he figured that Sam had likely already explained the nature of this situation - and the need for secrecy. "He's tried to kill me more than once. I think I'm his mission, but when he gets hit during the fight, he can change personalities at a moment's notice." So yes, he was violent. But no, he wasn't inflicting the mind-changing injuries on himself.

[make_it_hurt]

"And right now, he's the third personality." She hummed. "How much do you know about how the original personality - Bucky - was suppressed? Sam mentioned something about electric shocks, but I can't imagine that alone would be enough to completely destroy a person's sense of self, at least not to the point that the person wasn't a blubbering vegetable from the brain damage. Physical trauma in combination with the shocks, maybe, but there would have to be a lot of other damage going on. What does Bucky remember of the past seventy years, after he fell off the train?"

[punched_hitler]

"Right," Steve said slowly, then paused at the next question. It... wasn't a pleasant one, but only because he knew very little, and what he did know made him feel guilty as hell. "He... I know he was conscious for some time, after he fell," Steve said, trying to get the words out around a lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. His hands had balled into fists, his entire body growing tense. He was glad the doctor couldn't see him, or the anguish on his face. "He survived on his own for a couple of days, until someone found him. I don't know how much he remembers after that. I couldn't - didn't - ask him," he finished quickly.

[make_it_hurt]

"Alright, thank you. It's possible the physical trauma of falling, combined with the abuse following, initiated some sort of amnesia on the part of the Bucky personality. He doesn't remember anything after that, even though he wasn't yet, let's say, the Soldier personality. There may have been brain damage resulting in memory loss, or loss of the ability to store memories." She hummed. "I would like to speak with him myself, if possible. Particularly Bucky himself.

"I would leave him alone. If we can isolate and simply watch the Soldier and the third personality, we would be able to learn a lot more than going in and speaking to him. It'll be hard, especially if he's the Bucky personality."

[punched_hitler]

"Right," Steve said, trying to follow along. Psychology wasn't his strong point, but he could understand what the doctor was saying. "Well, you're welcome to speak with him - when I see him next," he said, wishing that was now, that Bucky wasn't in there somewhere, suffering, while someone else, someone Steve didn't know, sat in the driver's seat.

He did frown when the doctor told him that the best course of action was to leave Bucky alone. No, he didn't want to do that, but... "Do you think that's best? I - guess I should trust your judgement," he said, with a sigh. "We can leave him alone. He's safe here, at least. We can take care of him as long as we need to." Finding Bucky had been his goal - now helping him was. Steve had nothing else to do, not with SHIELD still in the process of rebuilding. Slowly.