Glitch in the System

3

Nobody said he couldn't leave the compound. Just that he couldn't go on any missions.

So, Steve being Steve, set out on one of the only leads he had - well, one of the only leads that didn't force him to navigate the internet for hours.

That was why he was in Romania. Bucharest, to be exact.

To give an old friend the fright of his life.

To be fair to Steve, it wasn't part of his plan to make Bucky jump out of his skin, but he definitely could've thought it through a bit more. Breaking into the apartment and waiting for him to come home wasn't exactly a smart plan, but Steve wasn't in his right mind.

Bucky's apartment was small, dark, and mostly empty. Newspapers covered every window, only allowing a few streaks of sunlight in at any given time. Dust hung in the air like it was a decorative choice, and the same went for the dishes piled up in the sink.

A used mattress, an old television, a table, and a single chair. Those were the only pieces of furniture in the apartment - except for the kitchen. The television had no stand, the mattress had no covers, and the table and chair weren't stable at all. It was a completely run-down apartment. An outward expression of what was going on in Bucky's head.

Maybe, if Bucky had reached out to Steve, things would've been different. He could've had a place in the compound. But, no matter how much Steve tried to reach out and help his best friend, Bucky ignored him. It wasn't on purpose. The poor man just didn't trust himself. He didn't trust anyone to be around him. So, that was why Steve decided that breaking in would be the best bet. Bucky couldn't run.

That was Steve's sleep-deprived thought process. The one that led him to his current situation.

Bucky had physically jumped at the sight of Steve in his apartment. The blonde leaped up at the sight of his best friend finally arriving home, leading to Bucky lifting his arm and preparing to throw his bag of plums at the intruder. His spare hand was already on the door handle, preparing to run like his life depended on it. A skittish, stray cat.

"Buck, wait." Steve quickly blurted out. He reached his hand out, unsure of whether he was doing it to block the plums that seemed ready to be thrown at him, or whether he was just subconsciously trying to grab at his best friend. Grab at him before he slipped through his fingers again.

"You're not in trouble." He continued to blurt, too afraid to even move an inch without risking Bucky racing out of the apartment. The spooked man's hand was still on the door handle, but he hadn't moved. "I just came here to ask you a question. That's all."

Bucky's eyes flitted between the door and Steve. He was hesitating. The blonde didn't look like himself. Wild and desperate eyes, no mission suit or shield, and eyebags that looked like they were holding groceries for a family of five. Even after not seeing his best friend since the forties, Bucky knew that this wasn't normal.

So, with a nervous breath, Bucky lowered his bag of plums and let go of the handle. His anxious demeanour hadn't dropped, but at least he wasn't trying to attack the super soldier with plums. "My memory is still hazy, y'know." He said plainly, walking toward the kitchen so he could put his plums away.

Steve sighed in relief when Bucky moved away from the door. He sat back down at the table, fiddling with a rolled-up newspaper in his spare hand. "I know, but you're the only person I could think of." He started, seeming to have piqued Bucky's interest. "Do you remember y/n?"