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For Steve
[It's been fourteen months, six weeks, and four days since the Soldier pulled Steve from the Potomac and ran from everything he had ever known. Since he had begun to realise which parts of the world he'd been fed were lies, but hadn't quite managed to pin down which were truths. He knows that Steve has been looking for him. Not just him, but his friends too, most of the Avengers have been roped into Steve's unceasing search.
They never find anything.
He's too good, he knows how to hide. He's seen them - Iron Man once, Falcon four times, Steve twice - but they've never seen him. He's a ghost, just rumours that dry up on the wind. He's not too sure if he wants to remain this way for the rest of his life, he knows he's not ready for anything else, and this feels almost comforting. Anonymous. But something in him has pulled him back to America. He hears on the news what's been happening with the Avengers, he sees that there's a new 'compound' that they're using as a base, though none of the news channels know where it is.
It doesn't matter, he finds it.
There's security systems, of course, but he bypasses them all. He slips close enough past Falcon that he can smell the aftershave he used, but he isn't noticed. He finds Steve's room, easy to tell it's his because of the shield inside the door and the way that the whole place is military precision. Not a habit easy to break even once the army is done with you. He isn't even sure why he's here, just that he's following the instincts of his mind at the moment.
He takes a seat on Steve's bed, cross legged, and he waits.]
They never find anything.
He's too good, he knows how to hide. He's seen them - Iron Man once, Falcon four times, Steve twice - but they've never seen him. He's a ghost, just rumours that dry up on the wind. He's not too sure if he wants to remain this way for the rest of his life, he knows he's not ready for anything else, and this feels almost comforting. Anonymous. But something in him has pulled him back to America. He hears on the news what's been happening with the Avengers, he sees that there's a new 'compound' that they're using as a base, though none of the news channels know where it is.
It doesn't matter, he finds it.
There's security systems, of course, but he bypasses them all. He slips close enough past Falcon that he can smell the aftershave he used, but he isn't noticed. He finds Steve's room, easy to tell it's his because of the shield inside the door and the way that the whole place is military precision. Not a habit easy to break even once the army is done with you. He isn't even sure why he's here, just that he's following the instincts of his mind at the moment.
He takes a seat on Steve's bed, cross legged, and he waits.]
no subject
“They were HYDRA.”
Would that make a difference to this? It made a difference to him, these were people he chose to kill for the greater good rather than innocent targets on a mission.
“One was an old handler, he looked like you. They all looked like you.”
Maybe that was why he’s here, he still doesn’t entirely know himself.
no subject
Then he pauses.
"They looked like me?" An exhale. "Bucky, what do you mean?"
Heck with it. He needs to trust Bucky (and his own reflexes) enough to go into his little kitchenette and fill two glasses with water, because he suspects Bucky hasn't slept or eaten for days. He comes back out and hands one to Bucky, expression suggesting that Bucky had better drink if he knows what's good for him.
His nostrils flare. There's a scent of something.
"You mean they all looked literally like me, or carried themselves like me?"
no subject
“The handlers. All of them I can remember, from the first one, they all looked like you. I think I remember... it was a report in the beginning; the Asset responds better to men with blond hair and blue eyes.”
They had known about his attachment to Steve and exploited it, made sure they always had the maximum potential for obedience.
“I remember them telling him— me— that Captain America has died, crashed a plane, but you’re alive. Was that a lie or did you come back?”
no subject
Bucky doesn't actually take a damn drink, and Steve's about to push him about it, but then...
Oh.
Oh, heck.
"That's... horribly cruel," Steve says at last, feeling incredibly inadequate. It's beyond cruel. The way Bucky's been manipulated. Used. He's drinking Bucky in with his eyes, half of him assessing Bucky as a potential threat (not to be killed, to be taken down if necessary and cared for) and half of him with the biggest, soppiest heart eyes he's had in decades.
Steve laughs a short pained choked kind of laugh, and nods. "Both, I'm afraid. I... I guess you didn't take all the stupid with you, when I thought you died. I went down. Got frozen. Got thawed."
no subject
He doesn't say as much.
Instead, he just nods and finally moves. His legs uncurl and he shifts off the bed, leaving a smear of stained red on the neatly made covers, and crosses over to stand within arm's reach of Steve.
"You didn't fight when I fought you either, do you want to die?"