The Pursuit of Perfection (A Bucky Barnes Fanfic) [Sequel to Winter Is Coming]

Chapter 3: Incendiary

"For love is strong as death, passion as fierce as the grave; it's flashes are flashes of fire, a raging flame." -Unknown

***

            Peggy's funeral is held at the end of the week. It's more crowded than Bucky had expected, but then he has to remind himself that she actually lived her life and had friends and family, unlike the trio. Seeing her in the casket, Bucky doesn't even recognize her. Maybe it's from the embalming, or maybe it's because Banner's serum can't bring back every face he's ever seen, but either way, it's not the Peggy he met at the bar that night.

            The service isn't long. Sharon and a few others say a few words, including Steve. His voice is strained, and it reminds Harley of when he spoke about Bucky when they received his award for him. His words are no less meaningless, even if there was a gap of seventy years between them. The way he talks about her suggests he saw her every day.

            The burial is at the back of the church. Thunder rumbles overhead. Rain will soon follow.

            Everyone is given a rose to set either on top of or around the casket. Most people hurry because a slight drizzle has started, but Steve takes his time, as do Bucky and Harley. Steve leaves first, surprisingly, leaving them alone as he departs.

            "Our first funeral in seventy years," Bucky realizes. "I forgot how sad they are."

            "It's always on Steve, though. He can't catch a break, can he?" Harley asks.

            Bucky nods. First it was Steve's mom, then it was him, and now Peggy. Who's next?

            "Come on. Let's get you out of the rain before you get too cold." 

            They find Steve at their bikes. Bucky embraces him tightly, letting him cry, because there's no use telling him that it'll be okay. Sometimes you have to just let people be sad. "Wanna hang out tonight?" Bucky knows the answer, but it's worth it to ask.

            Steve pulls away, not even bothering to wipe his face of tears. "No."

            "Are you sure?" Harley asks.

            "Yes," Steve snaps. "Unlike you, I can't drown my sadness in material things. I've never relied on that." His tone is harsher than it should've been, and Harley looks slightly taken back.

            "I'm just trying to help, Steve," she retorts in a soft voice.

            "Who says I need it?"

            Harley doesn't answer right away. "I think you do. But who am I kidding? Captain America can handle everything. It's not like last time he thought he lost someone he tried to drown himself in a sea of ethanol."

            "How did you know-"

            Bucky cuts him off. "Guys, let's not fight about this."

            Steve's eyes have narrowed. "No, she's right. I'm fine. I don't want either of your help with this. I need to mourn on my own."

            "Okay. See you later, then," Bucky says hesitantly, giving him another pat on the back and ushering Harley back towards his bike. Bucky understands his need for space at a time like this. He just hopes it won't last long. "What was that about?"

            Harley sighs. "He's just upset."

            "That doesn't give him a right to be rude."

            "We were both being snarky. Let it go, okay?" He does. Him and Harley ride back to their apartment. Bucky only vaguely addresses the fact that Steve isn't behind them. He pushes him out of his mind, telling himself he'll be fine because Steve can take care of himself now. Steve doesn't need Bucky to pick him back up all the time and get him out of fights anymore. He can manage on his own. So, he tells himself that he'll see him tomorrow and focuses on getting Harley out of the freezing rain before her fire goes out.

***

            Steve takes his bike and goes in the opposite direction of home. Actually, a sign tells him if he keeps going this way, he'll end up in Brooklyn, so maybe he really is going home. But he feels like nowhere is truly home anymore. He can never go back to the life he once knew and still loves.

            He goes eighty in a fifty zone, not caring about other vehicles or police or crashing. He cared about Peggy, and she's gone. He should be gone. This never should have happened. But does he regret it? Would he change it if the chance was presented? He's not sure.

            Driving and weaving in between traffic on the highway, Steve rides for hours. All in one direction. No turns, no curves, just a straight shot going nowhere. Adrenaline pulses inside him; he bottles it up for now. He knows it's only a matter of time before he has to release it. That's how he's always been. All those fights in the back alleys? Adrenaline rush. A need for exhilaration.

            He thinks of Bucky and Harley. He snapped at both of them earlier. They were just trying to help. He pushes these thoughts away, crams them into the back of his head. He doesn't want to think about anything right now.

            A car passes. As soon as he can see the license plate, that's it. He let's all of his adrenaline go and speeds up even more, nearly hitting one hundred. He leans forward for more and even switches his headlight off for a few minutes, relying purely on the lights of others. With no helmet or protective padding, he feels on top of the world. But he wants more.

            He wants to take a risk.