[ there are some philosophies - all of which bucky would certainly send people to ask steve about; the little guy has a thirst for knowledge and surely would know to explain them - that argue that the world is at balance. where there is light, there must also be darkness, where there is good there must also be evil. bucky doesn't really subscribe to any philosophy, he lives more by a code, a simple guideline to rights, wrongs, and rules to friendship with steve rogers. but that one...maybe there's something to it, because as steve feels stretched thin, empty, bucky feels like he's about to burst at the seams from the sheer, overwhelming concern that fills him.
friendship with steven grant rogers, according to bucky barnes, has two crucial rules:
1. when it comes to feelings, don't listen - look. steve will always insist that he's fine. he's got his pride, which is something bucky is very familiar with, they all have their pride but for steve, it's different. every damn day is an obstacle course the man tries to tackle all on his own to prove to himself, to the world, that he can. if you let him, the guy would go down to his grave, still swinging, still refusing to call for help. to bucky that spirit is both admirable, a high bar to hold himself up to, and the worst damn part of his life, because he always - always - has to be on the lookout, which directly leads to the second rule:
2. steve is never late; steve is always in trouble. it's easier when bucky knows where he's supposed to be, he knows to go looking. there's a method to it, of course, he's got locating steve down to an art. you start with wherever you're supposed to meet - but that's really for time saving purposes, it's just as possible the guy got in trouble along the way, or didn't even make it out of his house due to some attack (that part - that right there takes years off of bucky's life in the moments before he finds steve. a big guy he can take for him, but an illness? how's he supposed to fight that?). still, you start with the meeting place. if it's too crowded, you always try to meet beforehand to avoid having to look for him in a damn crowd. alleyways - always a good bet. new york is full of them, but the sound of a beatdown echos, and it's usually a safe bet that it's steve he'll find on the receiving end of it.
today is no different, and even as bucky is filled with frustration, with anger - at both his friend and the guy low enough to beat up a guy half his size - he also experiences relief. at least he found him, and on time.
unceremoniously hurling the guy (who, to bucky's opinion, could be the missing link scientists are looking for in evolution between ape and man) backwards, bucky places himself between him and his friend. ]
You fellas mind if I cut in? [ they always try to hit him. they rarely try to hit him twice. bucky stops the punch hurled at his face and twists. when a pained cry escapes steve's assailant, he lets go in favor of throwing his own punch, right in the nose. it connects hard, and bucky knows exactly how his knuckle will bruise now, after years of practice, knows not to worry about the little cracking sound his wrist makes as bones shift and fall back into place. it's as familiar a sound to him now as his own name.
blood gashing out of his nose, the guy takes off, and bucky turns towards his friend, offering him a hand.
jesus, the state of him. maybe his arrival wasn't so timely after all. maybe it's time for a third rule - skip going where you're meeting, go directly to look through every alleyway on the way. ]
At least tell me she was pretty. [ he knows all too well that steve will pick any excuse to fight, will stand up for any wrong. it's gotten so much worse, now. but it's a nice dream, that he could maybe at least meet a nice girl this way one of these days. maybe she'll do what bucky can't seem to manage - and settle him down. ]
[ By the time Steve rolls his head forward, there’s a faint, blood-smeared grin on his face that he knows the man wasn’t expecting to see. Hell, it’s strange enough to Steve. Pain isn’t touching him these days the way it used to — or maybe he’s just ain’t feeling it the way he used to. His head aches sharply where it hit the wall, his stomach and his face are throbbing angrily, and yet all of it seems dulled somehow. ]
What, you think this is fu —
[ The guy doesn’t get to finish his sentence. Steve hears Bucky’s footsteps before he sees him, recognizes them immediately, and then Bucky’s there — in between Steve and the sonuvabitch scrambling back from where Bucky flung him. Steve slides down the wall, bricks scraping his back through his shirt, but doesn’t bother getting up just yet, his strange smile already faded. The vicious spark of emotion from before seems to have faded, too; he doesn’t feel much of anything, watching Bucky dispatch the man like it’s easy (and for Bucky, it usually is).
At most what Steve feels is concern for is his best friend's knuckles — they’re gonna need icing, if he hit him hard enough to break his nose. Bucky turns to him, then, and Steve sees the expressions flickering across his face as he takes in Steve’s tattered state.
At least tell me she was pretty. For a second, he doesn’t understand, just stares blankly at the hand Bucky’s holding out to him. Then realization hits and Steve bows his head, feigning a cough as he grabs the proffered hand and pulls himself to his feet, an odd sensation curling like acid in his stomach. If he were his usual self, he might call it shame; Bucky thinks he got into this to defend someone else. ]
Gonna be honest, I didn’t really notice.
[ His voice is hoarse, and Steve coughs for real this time as he swipes a wrist across his mouth. It’s honest, but only halfway. There was no girl. Steve wasn't defending anybody today, not even himself. And ain’t that the worst of it? That as often as Steve gets involved in things because he sees them going south, it’s even more often that his fights aren’t ones he picks? Christ, he can’t imagine saying that out loud, admitting something so humiliating. That sometimes, all Steve is — is a target.
He swallows and looks back at up at Bucky through his bangs, feeling that same twist in his stomach as he adds with a wan half-smile, ]
I think we missed the feature, but we can catch another film if we get back now. If you still want.
[ there's plenty of pain coursing through bucky, but very little of it has to do with his knuckle (though steve's right, it could certainly do with some ice, he can already tell it's going to go through the full spectrum of color) and a whole lot to do with the state of his best friend in life.
that blank stare, it tears at his heart in a way few things do and unlike steve - he does little to hide the emotion on his face, at least at first. it's all there, clear in his eyes; pain, fear, overwhelming concern. his own secret is that at times like these - he understands exactly how steve feels. it's sheer helplessness, to watch steve suffer so and not be able to do a damn thing about it. he would take on all of new york for steve, but he can't do a thing about his grief, not a single thing but stand there and watch him go through it.
when steve takes his hand, he pulls him up, wraps an arm around him to steady him. bucky knows better than to think steve would lean on him as they walk, he's learned to take the initiative and mix support with unbridled affection. ]
You oughta do something about your priorities. [ it's a soft tease, as his own expression relents. he doesn't want to get into a fight with steve here and now, that can be better saved for when his friend is safe at home, where he can't try to take it out on anyone else who will just end up taking their own issues out on him. but it is clear to bucky that if steve doesn't start giving him a damn inch - there's going to be a fight because neither of them can keep going this way. ]
We'll give it another try tomorrow, come on. [ he claps his shoulder, hoping he's not upsetting an injury. softness, he knows, would only upset steve's pride further. he ushers steve out of the alley, not letting go of his shoulder, using that bit of leverage to help prop him up. ] You need a shower. [ and ice, and a first aid kit, and some sense knocked into his head but he's not holding his breath on that last one - though he will never stop trying. ]
[ The moment it’s out of his mouth, Steve knows it ain’t happening. He can’t see what he looks like, but he sure as hell can see the gamut of expressions go over Bucky’s face, and the amount of concern and hurt there — on Steve’s behalf — is enough to let him know Bucky’s not interested in pictures right now. Truthfully, neither is Steve. He feels a jab of guilt through the bleak curtain hanging over him, at having inadvertently ruined their afternoon out.
Bucky deserves better than this. God, what the hell is he doing, hanging around Steve these days? ]
Look who's talkin'. [ It’s quiet but warm, an attempt from Steve to match the faint levity in Bucky’s voice with some of his own. He has to keep himself from leaning into the arm Bucky’s got around him, no matter how much his tired muscles want to. It’s not that he needs the help to remain upright, exactly; he’s unsteady, sure, pain climbing up and down his body, but his brain’s filled with enough white noise that his feet wouldn’t even notice they were going askew until he was already tripping over them. But with the emptiness clawing inside him, it's as if Bucky’s touch is the only thing holding up him lately, like he'll fold over without it.
Instead, Steve just allows himself to settle under the warm, familiar weight of that arm, willingly lets Bucky propel him out of the alley and onto the street. His mind might be static, but something in his body recognizes and responds to that touch, and the clap to his shoulder is as reassuring as a shot of hooch. Speaking of which. ]
Think I’ll be fine with a drink. And maybe some — [ He breaks off, glancing up at Bucky with a little frown. ] Wait, did you have lunch?
[ Bucky headed here straight from work, didn't he? He must be hungry. Steve tries to think about what he’s got in his pantry back at home, if it’s good enough to put out for company. Bucky’s his best friend in the whole goddamn world, closer than blood, but he’s still a guest when he’s over, and if Ma found out that Steve didn’t —
A cold weight drops in the pit of his stomach and Steve stumbles on his next step, hard. ]
[ steve's tone may be joking, but the joke itself falls flat. bucky's priorities are damn straight, and steve is right there at the tippy-top. he doesn't engage in it, instead choosing to keep moving before something else can go wrong.
he's about to respond to steve's invitation and inquiry when the other falters - and nothing else matters for the next second but propping him up, keeping him from breaking a limb on a bad fall. strong hands pull him back before he can hit the ground, and don't let go even after he's found his footing.
as long as he's by his side, bucky would never let steve fall. ]
Alright? [ and there's that concern again, back in his eyes. sure, the sidewalk doesn't exactly offer the most even footing, but steve had only recently endured a bad beating - maybe home isn't enough. maybe he should take him to see a doctor? worry eats away at him, and steve isn't the only one who misses his mother at this moment. sarah would know what to do, and bucky wishes he could consult her again, could have someone backing his plays. it's a lot of responsibility to shoulder alone. ]
I think you've had enough. [ it's partly a joking reply to steve's offer for a drink, and partly - just a fact. he's had enough. enough of doing everything all on his own, it's time to accept some support, god knows it's willingly offered. ]
Why don't you stay the night? Everyone misses you, I bet ma will make your favorite, you know she likes you best. [ he tries to keep the lighter tone going - deciding that if steve refuses his offer - he's going to spend the night by his friend's side even if he has to curl up by his front door. ]
[ The day of his mother’s funeral is burned into Steve’s memory like nothing else, but somehow his mind slips up every now and then. Forgets. Sometimes he wakes up in the morning, thinking he’s heard the door creaking as Ma slips out for an early shift; sometimes, half-asleep at night, he thinks he feels her presence, as if she’s only in the next room. Even in the full light of day, his ear remains pricked for the rustle of her dress on the stairwell, like she’ll enter the apartment at any moment and he’s only just … waiting for her to come back.
And sometimes, his stupid goddamn brain fills in the blanks with her so that even a stray thought has Steve caught badly off guard, like he is now.
He's dimly aware of Bucky’s arms around him, both of them now, keeping him from what would’ve been a nasty fall onto the sidewalk. His own hand is curled into Bucky’s shirt, white-knuckled, and for a few seconds he can’t speak, trying to focus on what Bucky’s saying instead of what’s running through his mind — go home to the Barnes’, stay the night with Bucky, around his family, around warmth and light and the living. Mrs. Barnes' delicious cooking and kindness, Rebecca's irrepressible liveliness and sense of humor.
He knows that any normal person would want that, prefer that to going home to his cold, empty, possibly food-less tenement. But — ] I … [ His voice is low, head tilted down. ] I don’t know, Bucky. Your folks probably have an evening planned, I. I don’t want to impose.
[ Steve doesn’t know what to do. He’s been sequestering himself away from everyone, pulling away from the few people who bother staying in touch with him, and he knows Bucky’s noticed this. He can’t help it. It’s as though that part of him that died with his mother wants to bury him too, and Steve wants buried, wants alone, even as he realizes that such a want is unnatural. His grip on Bucky twitches. ]
[ the moments between steve's stumble and response don't exactly stretch - it's almost as if they're paused, like the whole world decided that you know what? it really doesn't have anything better to do right now, it's going to stay right here, right now, drag this out, savor it. the world's always been an asshole to steve, it only strengthens bucky's determination to stand by his side.
steve's grip on his shirt has the collar digging into the back of bucky's neck, but he doesn't even notice, doesn't care if it gets stretched out or if his mother will berate him, thinking it was the doing of a girl who clearly wasn't nice enough for her golden boy - all that matters is grounding steve, giving him every bit of support the stubborn idiot would take. ]
You're family, Steve. [ he can no more impose on the barnes' than bucky can. he can push and push with all his might, with every ounce of stubborn determination in his little body, but bucky's support will remain an unmovable wall, by his side. you can't push away family. ] They're used to it. [ god knows this isn't the worst state they've seen him in. ]
Come on, what do you say? [ he can sense and inch and he's grabbing hold to it for dear life. ] You're in luck, I already shined my shoes today, all you'll have left is the trash.
[ Of course Bucky would say that, see it like that. Family. They’re — Steve knows what Bucky means, he feels it in himself too, that unspoken forever closeness, but at the end of the day, they’re not family family, and Steve’s always going to be hesitant and careful. Always mindful of not wearing out his welcome. God knows the rest of their mutual acquaintances don’t see it the same way as Bucky and his folks do, whether it’s the Barnes’ friends and relatives, or Steve and Bucky’s teachers back in the day.
What's a nice boy like James doing, hanging ‘round that Rogers kid?
A surprised, sharp huff of amusement escapes Steve at Bucky’s words. It feels like a reminder from a lifetime ago. ] You’re not wrong.
[ His voice is clearer, less of a rasp even if it’s still dry. The Barnes’ have seen Steve in far worse condition, as chagrining that is for him to think of. And hell, but Steve’s so damn tired of pushing Bucky away. He’s exhausted to his bones as it is, but keeping Bucky at length is harder on him than drawing away from anyone else could ever be. Steve’s used to being tired all the time, used to throwing himself at metaphorical brick walls, but this battle is different because despite everything, there’s a small, vital part of him that refuses to fight.
Steve inhales through his nose slowly, lets it out just as slow, feeling himself relent. ] But I — I don’t think I’m in much shape to. Talk much, at the table. They won’t mind, right? [ This is Steve quietly requesting, without actually saying it out loud, that Bucky whisk him away after dinner. ]
[ for bucky it's those relatives and so called friends who wore out their welcome. bucky's always been the friendly sort, born with an easy charm and a love for people, there are few places he could go to in new york without making a friend, if he doesn't already have one. it's not easy, to wear out his patience, but anyone he catches talking about steve like that gets a front row seat to exactly what that particular accomplishment looks like. protective instincts easily develop in the presence of a younger sibling and to bucky rebecca isn't the only one who fits that bill.
they may not share blood or a last name, but steve is every bit bucky's brother. they've spent more nights sharing a room than not in their childhood, steve's ma had cooked bucky's dinner almost as often as his own did, and offered him kind words of wisdom when he's needed them. they're family in all the ways that matter, they're more family than bucky and those relatives would ever be.
he smiles at that huff of amusement, a smile that widens when steve finally - finally - relents and agrees to something. he's so happy, he could fly. ]
Rebecca won't let you slip a word in edgewise even if you wanted to. [ helping steve straighten himself up, he claps his shoulder again. he'll warn his family to let him be, though he also trusts them to figure out on their own that the fact steve came over at all is nothing short of a miracle. they can't afford to spook him. just knowing he's safe, warm, fed, and tended to is bound to guarantee bucky gets the best night's sleep he's had since mrs. rogers' passing - he'll take it. ]
[ The bright smile on Bucky’s face — the sincerity behind it, the obvious relief — sends another thin stab of guilt through Steve. He’s known that Bucky must’ve been worrying about him, but knowing is one thing and seeing is another. The visible proof of it hurts, even through the fog of apathy surrounding him; he’s not worth this. All he’s doing is dragging Bucky down with him.
Least you can do is smile back, Rogers.
He manages one as Bucky helps him up, thinks about saying something like Yeah, she takes after her big brother, as an attempt at levity, but decides against it. Bucky deserves better than a half-hearted joke. ]
Thank you.
[ Quiet but earnest, as Bucky claps him on the shoulder, letting his own grip on him loosen and gently fall away as they both straighten. There’s a fleeting twinge inside Steve, a soft voice inside him protesting that loss of contact, sounding much like the little boy he was when Bucky first walked into his life, bringing warmth with him. Steve ignores it, lets it smother into silence as they exit the alleyway without further preamble.
The rest of the walk passes by in a blur, Steve’s gaze trained on his feet, and it feels like it’s only been a few minutes before they’re approaching the Barnes residence. The sight of Bucky’s home rings a dusty bell in the back of Steve’s mind, and he slows to a stop, tugging at Bucky’s shirt sleeve. ]
Bucky, wait, gimme a — I gotta ...
[ Just because the Barneses have seen him worse doesn’t mean he should just waltz in there like this, and Steve’s vaguely annoyed at himself for forgetting his manners. He’s always tried to look his best in front of Bucky’s family, occasional accidents aside, and they haven’t seen him in weeks. Shame prickles down Steve’s spine as he pulls out a comb and tries to fix his hair, roughly tugging through the strands. ]
[ there are no debts owed in a family, no weights of dues paid and benefits received that need to be balanced, not the way bucky sees it. if what steve has in him to give is a half-hearted joke, bucky would've gladly taken it because what really truly matters is that steve is there, and god he's just missed him. steve's ma was family, and while the loss is completely incomparable, it nevertheless remains true that bucky lost her too. losing steve on top of it is too much, and he refuses to accept it. ]
You're welcome. [ what to most is nothing but an automatic polite response is meant in earnest when spoken to steve. there is no one, outside of the family that resides within the barnes' apartment, who could possibly be more welcome than steve in their home, at their table, and in bucky's heart. if the price he has to pay for his company is a little silence and censuring of question, a little encouraging of becca's natural tendency to prattle on? he's more than willing to pay.
when steve stops just shy of his home, bucky steels himself for another argument, another round of exhausting sparring with steve's stubborn insistence of doing everything and anything all on his own. it's the sheer relief that washes over him when he understands what halted steve's steps that makes him laugh at the sight of that comb, and he pitches in, straightening out steve's jacket. ]
You know it's just going to get mussed anyway. [ after such a long absence? steve is going to get hugged, and that, that bucky can't nor has any desire to shield him from, the guy could use it. ]
[ Steve's distracted enough to miss the set of Bucky’s shoulders going momentarily stiff, but the laugh he catches loud and clear. It gets an involuntary little grin out of him, guessing what Bucky thinks about Steve’s insistence to be presentable for his family. Bucky's a brother to him, thicker than blood, and he knows his Ma felt the same — loved him as her own. But it’s a formality ingrained in him since childhood, when he went to Bucky’s place for the first time, dressed in his Sunday clothes and on his best behaviour, simultaneously terrified and determined.
As it is, Steve’s grateful for the extra help — no mirrors nearby — and while Bucky fixes the fit his coat, he runs a tongue over his busted lip, tasting copper and hoping he’s got the last of it. Or at least as much as he can get off without water, anyway. He finishes off by sucking at his teeth and swallowing, since there’s nowhere to spit, and then meets Bucky’s eyes with his own.
There isn’t much of a light in them, but Steve’s trying. Knows he has to get through at least dinner and pretend to be a real boy throughout, instead of the marionette he feels like these days, and he can only hope that it isn’t obvious to anyone but Bucky. ]
Gotta give 'em something to muss, then. Make it worth Becca’s while.
[ That’s a good start, at least. He brushes off his shirt and adjusts his suspenders one last time before nodding at Bucky. There’s still a residual unsteadiness in his limbs, and the pain in both his stomach and his head is a continuous throb, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. ]
[ it's not that bucky doesn't know where steve's coming from; hell, he did the same when going to steve's, he does the same when going anywhere, he just likes looking his best. it's just such a secondary thought in this case, because his whole being has been focused on getting steve to cross that threshold and come inside with him where he'd be safe and looked after, at least for tonight. ]
Don't you worry about Becca. [ god knows that girl will make it worth her own while. bucky's incredibly proud of his sister, even his teasing of her reflects that. his siblings, steve very much included on that list, are some of his greatest inspirations in life, and sometimes he marvels at the fact that they don't seem to know just how much he admires them both.
he puts the finishing touches by wiping some of the dust off of steve, and wraps his arm around his shoulders all over again, undoing some of his own fine work on that coat and not giving a single damn about it. ]
Time to face the music, pal. [ the music, in this case, being becca's happy shrills and ma's worried fussing. he leads him inside, still a little nervous that if they delay any longer steve will change his mind. ]
no subject
friendship with steven grant rogers, according to bucky barnes, has two crucial rules:
1. when it comes to feelings, don't listen - look. steve will always insist that he's fine. he's got his pride, which is something bucky is very familiar with, they all have their pride but for steve, it's different. every damn day is an obstacle course the man tries to tackle all on his own to prove to himself, to the world, that he can. if you let him, the guy would go down to his grave, still swinging, still refusing to call for help. to bucky that spirit is both admirable, a high bar to hold himself up to, and the worst damn part of his life, because he always - always - has to be on the lookout, which directly leads to the second rule:
2. steve is never late; steve is always in trouble. it's easier when bucky knows where he's supposed to be, he knows to go looking. there's a method to it, of course, he's got locating steve down to an art. you start with wherever you're supposed to meet - but that's really for time saving purposes, it's just as possible the guy got in trouble along the way, or didn't even make it out of his house due to some attack (that part - that right there takes years off of bucky's life in the moments before he finds steve. a big guy he can take for him, but an illness? how's he supposed to fight that?). still, you start with the meeting place. if it's too crowded, you always try to meet beforehand to avoid having to look for him in a damn crowd. alleyways - always a good bet. new york is full of them, but the sound of a beatdown echos, and it's usually a safe bet that it's steve he'll find on the receiving end of it.
today is no different, and even as bucky is filled with frustration, with anger - at both his friend and the guy low enough to beat up a guy half his size - he also experiences relief. at least he found him, and on time.
unceremoniously hurling the guy (who, to bucky's opinion, could be the missing link scientists are looking for in evolution between ape and man) backwards, bucky places himself between him and his friend. ]
You fellas mind if I cut in? [ they always try to hit him. they rarely try to hit him twice. bucky stops the punch hurled at his face and twists. when a pained cry escapes steve's assailant, he lets go in favor of throwing his own punch, right in the nose. it connects hard, and bucky knows exactly how his knuckle will bruise now, after years of practice, knows not to worry about the little cracking sound his wrist makes as bones shift and fall back into place. it's as familiar a sound to him now as his own name.
blood gashing out of his nose, the guy takes off, and bucky turns towards his friend, offering him a hand.
jesus, the state of him. maybe his arrival wasn't so timely after all. maybe it's time for a third rule - skip going where you're meeting, go directly to look through every alleyway on the way. ]
At least tell me she was pretty. [ he knows all too well that steve will pick any excuse to fight, will stand up for any wrong. it's gotten so much worse, now. but it's a nice dream, that he could maybe at least meet a nice girl this way one of these days. maybe she'll do what bucky can't seem to manage - and settle him down. ]
no subject
What, you think this is fu —
[ The guy doesn’t get to finish his sentence. Steve hears Bucky’s footsteps before he sees him, recognizes them immediately, and then Bucky’s there — in between Steve and the sonuvabitch scrambling back from where Bucky flung him. Steve slides down the wall, bricks scraping his back through his shirt, but doesn’t bother getting up just yet, his strange smile already faded. The vicious spark of emotion from before seems to have faded, too; he doesn’t feel much of anything, watching Bucky dispatch the man like it’s easy (and for Bucky, it usually is).
At most what Steve feels is concern for is his best friend's knuckles — they’re gonna need icing, if he hit him hard enough to break his nose. Bucky turns to him, then, and Steve sees the expressions flickering across his face as he takes in Steve’s tattered state.
At least tell me she was pretty. For a second, he doesn’t understand, just stares blankly at the hand Bucky’s holding out to him. Then realization hits and Steve bows his head, feigning a cough as he grabs the proffered hand and pulls himself to his feet, an odd sensation curling like acid in his stomach. If he were his usual self, he might call it shame; Bucky thinks he got into this to defend someone else. ]
Gonna be honest, I didn’t really notice.
[ His voice is hoarse, and Steve coughs for real this time as he swipes a wrist across his mouth. It’s honest, but only halfway. There was no girl. Steve wasn't defending anybody today, not even himself. And ain’t that the worst of it? That as often as Steve gets involved in things because he sees them going south, it’s even more often that his fights aren’t ones he picks? Christ, he can’t imagine saying that out loud, admitting something so humiliating. That sometimes, all Steve is — is a target.
He swallows and looks back at up at Bucky through his bangs, feeling that same twist in his stomach as he adds with a wan half-smile, ]
I think we missed the feature, but we can catch another film if we get back now. If you still want.
no subject
that blank stare, it tears at his heart in a way few things do and unlike steve - he does little to hide the emotion on his face, at least at first. it's all there, clear in his eyes; pain, fear, overwhelming concern. his own secret is that at times like these - he understands exactly how steve feels. it's sheer helplessness, to watch steve suffer so and not be able to do a damn thing about it. he would take on all of new york for steve, but he can't do a thing about his grief, not a single thing but stand there and watch him go through it.
when steve takes his hand, he pulls him up, wraps an arm around him to steady him. bucky knows better than to think steve would lean on him as they walk, he's learned to take the initiative and mix support with unbridled affection. ]
You oughta do something about your priorities. [ it's a soft tease, as his own expression relents. he doesn't want to get into a fight with steve here and now, that can be better saved for when his friend is safe at home, where he can't try to take it out on anyone else who will just end up taking their own issues out on him. but it is clear to bucky that if steve doesn't start giving him a damn inch - there's going to be a fight because neither of them can keep going this way. ]
We'll give it another try tomorrow, come on. [ he claps his shoulder, hoping he's not upsetting an injury. softness, he knows, would only upset steve's pride further. he ushers steve out of the alley, not letting go of his shoulder, using that bit of leverage to help prop him up. ] You need a shower. [ and ice, and a first aid kit, and some sense knocked into his head but he's not holding his breath on that last one - though he will never stop trying. ]
no subject
Bucky deserves better than this. God, what the hell is he doing, hanging around Steve these days? ]
Look who's talkin'. [ It’s quiet but warm, an attempt from Steve to match the faint levity in Bucky’s voice with some of his own. He has to keep himself from leaning into the arm Bucky’s got around him, no matter how much his tired muscles want to. It’s not that he needs the help to remain upright, exactly; he’s unsteady, sure, pain climbing up and down his body, but his brain’s filled with enough white noise that his feet wouldn’t even notice they were going askew until he was already tripping over them. But with the emptiness clawing inside him, it's as if Bucky’s touch is the only thing holding up him lately, like he'll fold over without it.
Instead, Steve just allows himself to settle under the warm, familiar weight of that arm, willingly lets Bucky propel him out of the alley and onto the street. His mind might be static, but something in his body recognizes and responds to that touch, and the clap to his shoulder is as reassuring as a shot of hooch. Speaking of which. ]
Think I’ll be fine with a drink. And maybe some — [ He breaks off, glancing up at Bucky with a little frown. ] Wait, did you have lunch?
[ Bucky headed here straight from work, didn't he? He must be hungry. Steve tries to think about what he’s got in his pantry back at home, if it’s good enough to put out for company. Bucky’s his best friend in the whole goddamn world, closer than blood, but he’s still a guest when he’s over, and if Ma found out that Steve didn’t —
A cold weight drops in the pit of his stomach and Steve stumbles on his next step, hard. ]
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he's about to respond to steve's invitation and inquiry when the other falters - and nothing else matters for the next second but propping him up, keeping him from breaking a limb on a bad fall. strong hands pull him back before he can hit the ground, and don't let go even after he's found his footing.
as long as he's by his side, bucky would never let steve fall. ]
Alright? [ and there's that concern again, back in his eyes. sure, the sidewalk doesn't exactly offer the most even footing, but steve had only recently endured a bad beating - maybe home isn't enough. maybe he should take him to see a doctor? worry eats away at him, and steve isn't the only one who misses his mother at this moment. sarah would know what to do, and bucky wishes he could consult her again, could have someone backing his plays. it's a lot of responsibility to shoulder alone. ]
I think you've had enough. [ it's partly a joking reply to steve's offer for a drink, and partly - just a fact. he's had enough. enough of doing everything all on his own, it's time to accept some support, god knows it's willingly offered. ]
Why don't you stay the night? Everyone misses you, I bet ma will make your favorite, you know she likes you best. [ he tries to keep the lighter tone going - deciding that if steve refuses his offer - he's going to spend the night by his friend's side even if he has to curl up by his front door. ]
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And sometimes, his stupid goddamn brain fills in the blanks with her so that even a stray thought has Steve caught badly off guard, like he is now.
He's dimly aware of Bucky’s arms around him, both of them now, keeping him from what would’ve been a nasty fall onto the sidewalk. His own hand is curled into Bucky’s shirt, white-knuckled, and for a few seconds he can’t speak, trying to focus on what Bucky’s saying instead of what’s running through his mind — go home to the Barnes’, stay the night with Bucky, around his family, around warmth and light and the living. Mrs. Barnes' delicious cooking and kindness, Rebecca's irrepressible liveliness and sense of humor.
He knows that any normal person would want that, prefer that to going home to his cold, empty, possibly food-less tenement. But — ] I … [ His voice is low, head tilted down. ] I don’t know, Bucky. Your folks probably have an evening planned, I. I don’t want to impose.
[ Steve doesn’t know what to do. He’s been sequestering himself away from everyone, pulling away from the few people who bother staying in touch with him, and he knows Bucky’s noticed this. He can’t help it. It’s as though that part of him that died with his mother wants to bury him too, and Steve wants buried, wants alone, even as he realizes that such a want is unnatural. His grip on Bucky twitches. ]
‘Sides, I look like a mess.
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steve's grip on his shirt has the collar digging into the back of bucky's neck, but he doesn't even notice, doesn't care if it gets stretched out or if his mother will berate him, thinking it was the doing of a girl who clearly wasn't nice enough for her golden boy - all that matters is grounding steve, giving him every bit of support the stubborn idiot would take. ]
You're family, Steve. [ he can no more impose on the barnes' than bucky can. he can push and push with all his might, with every ounce of stubborn determination in his little body, but bucky's support will remain an unmovable wall, by his side. you can't push away family. ] They're used to it. [ god knows this isn't the worst state they've seen him in. ]
Come on, what do you say? [ he can sense and inch and he's grabbing hold to it for dear life. ] You're in luck, I already shined my shoes today, all you'll have left is the trash.
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What's a nice boy like James doing, hanging ‘round that Rogers kid?
A surprised, sharp huff of amusement escapes Steve at Bucky’s words. It feels like a reminder from a lifetime ago. ] You’re not wrong.
[ His voice is clearer, less of a rasp even if it’s still dry. The Barnes’ have seen Steve in far worse condition, as chagrining that is for him to think of. And hell, but Steve’s so damn tired of pushing Bucky away. He’s exhausted to his bones as it is, but keeping Bucky at length is harder on him than drawing away from anyone else could ever be. Steve’s used to being tired all the time, used to throwing himself at metaphorical brick walls, but this battle is different because despite everything, there’s a small, vital part of him that refuses to fight.
Steve inhales through his nose slowly, lets it out just as slow, feeling himself relent. ] But I — I don’t think I’m in much shape to. Talk much, at the table. They won’t mind, right? [ This is Steve quietly requesting, without actually saying it out loud, that Bucky whisk him away after dinner. ]
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they may not share blood or a last name, but steve is every bit bucky's brother. they've spent more nights sharing a room than not in their childhood, steve's ma had cooked bucky's dinner almost as often as his own did, and offered him kind words of wisdom when he's needed them. they're family in all the ways that matter, they're more family than bucky and those relatives would ever be.
he smiles at that huff of amusement, a smile that widens when steve finally - finally - relents and agrees to something. he's so happy, he could fly. ]
Rebecca won't let you slip a word in edgewise even if you wanted to. [ helping steve straighten himself up, he claps his shoulder again. he'll warn his family to let him be, though he also trusts them to figure out on their own that the fact steve came over at all is nothing short of a miracle. they can't afford to spook him. just knowing he's safe, warm, fed, and tended to is bound to guarantee bucky gets the best night's sleep he's had since mrs. rogers' passing - he'll take it. ]
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Least you can do is smile back, Rogers.
He manages one as Bucky helps him up, thinks about saying something like Yeah, she takes after her big brother, as an attempt at levity, but decides against it. Bucky deserves better than a half-hearted joke. ]
Thank you.
[ Quiet but earnest, as Bucky claps him on the shoulder, letting his own grip on him loosen and gently fall away as they both straighten. There’s a fleeting twinge inside Steve, a soft voice inside him protesting that loss of contact, sounding much like the little boy he was when Bucky first walked into his life, bringing warmth with him. Steve ignores it, lets it smother into silence as they exit the alleyway without further preamble.
The rest of the walk passes by in a blur, Steve’s gaze trained on his feet, and it feels like it’s only been a few minutes before they’re approaching the Barnes residence. The sight of Bucky’s home rings a dusty bell in the back of Steve’s mind, and he slows to a stop, tugging at Bucky’s shirt sleeve. ]
Bucky, wait, gimme a — I gotta ...
[ Just because the Barneses have seen him worse doesn’t mean he should just waltz in there like this, and Steve’s vaguely annoyed at himself for forgetting his manners. He’s always tried to look his best in front of Bucky’s family, occasional accidents aside, and they haven’t seen him in weeks. Shame prickles down Steve’s spine as he pulls out a comb and tries to fix his hair, roughly tugging through the strands. ]
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You're welcome. [ what to most is nothing but an automatic polite response is meant in earnest when spoken to steve. there is no one, outside of the family that resides within the barnes' apartment, who could possibly be more welcome than steve in their home, at their table, and in bucky's heart. if the price he has to pay for his company is a little silence and censuring of question, a little encouraging of becca's natural tendency to prattle on? he's more than willing to pay.
when steve stops just shy of his home, bucky steels himself for another argument, another round of exhausting sparring with steve's stubborn insistence of doing everything and anything all on his own. it's the sheer relief that washes over him when he understands what halted steve's steps that makes him laugh at the sight of that comb, and he pitches in, straightening out steve's jacket. ]
You know it's just going to get mussed anyway. [ after such a long absence? steve is going to get hugged, and that, that bucky can't nor has any desire to shield him from, the guy could use it. ]
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As it is, Steve’s grateful for the extra help — no mirrors nearby — and while Bucky fixes the fit his coat, he runs a tongue over his busted lip, tasting copper and hoping he’s got the last of it. Or at least as much as he can get off without water, anyway. He finishes off by sucking at his teeth and swallowing, since there’s nowhere to spit, and then meets Bucky’s eyes with his own.
There isn’t much of a light in them, but Steve’s trying. Knows he has to get through at least dinner and pretend to be a real boy throughout, instead of the marionette he feels like these days, and he can only hope that it isn’t obvious to anyone but Bucky. ]
Gotta give 'em something to muss, then. Make it worth Becca’s while.
[ That’s a good start, at least. He brushes off his shirt and adjusts his suspenders one last time before nodding at Bucky. There’s still a residual unsteadiness in his limbs, and the pain in both his stomach and his head is a continuous throb, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. ]
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Don't you worry about Becca. [ god knows that girl will make it worth her own while. bucky's incredibly proud of his sister, even his teasing of her reflects that. his siblings, steve very much included on that list, are some of his greatest inspirations in life, and sometimes he marvels at the fact that they don't seem to know just how much he admires them both.
he puts the finishing touches by wiping some of the dust off of steve, and wraps his arm around his shoulders all over again, undoing some of his own fine work on that coat and not giving a single damn about it. ]
Time to face the music, pal. [ the music, in this case, being becca's happy shrills and ma's worried fussing. he leads him inside, still a little nervous that if they delay any longer steve will change his mind. ]