Ascendancy

Chapter 8

        "On your left," Bucky pants, running slowly on the treadmill to my left.

        I laugh and say, "Why are you panting? You're barely moving!"

       "To many of Scott's pancakes," He says with a small smile.

        "True," I say, feeling my own breath beginning to quicken.

         The gym is large, but not large enough to run around. Bucky and I have been reduced to treadmills. Because of Bucky's arm, though, he is forced to take it slow, otherwise lose his balance. I am just glad to have someone to run with. 

        To my delight, over the past week and a half Bucky and I have bonded. We constantly talk, sit next to each other, exercise, and eat way too many of Scott's pancakes. I was slightly surprised that we had gotten so close. Usually it can be awkward seeing and talking to someone who you've shared so many personal things with, despite it maybe being a bonding experience. It's like pouring out your soul to a stranger, and then expecting not to be embarrassed. Bucky and I usually meander around for awhile, deep in thought, then we are back to chatting.

        It is so refreshing to have the weight of my past mistakes known. Despite my feeling self conscious sometimes, it feels good that it is not being kept shrouded in the dark parts of my heart. And since Bucky is one of the only ones who know, it bonds us even more. We both know each other's secrets. My concern is that once we actually reach the hard stuff, a stiff relationship will develop between us.

        For now, Bucky even asks questions about my life and childhood. Thats a thing patients have never asked about: me. Bucky seems to generally care, which feels wonderful since I try to make it a habit never to talk about myself.

        A warm glow fills me when I think of how Bucky and I have gotten closer; the more I get to know him, the more I realize I like him. Yet, I am concerned of him and Steve. They have been growing apart ever so slightly. I can feel a tension in the air, sometimes, when they're talking to each other. Steve and Bucky always seemed like an inseparable pair.

        I have no idea why this tension is occurring until one day I hear them talking in the kitchen. Quietly slipping behind the white door frame, I get as close to the entryway as I dare. For someone who highly disapproves of eavesdropping, I seem to be making a habit of it.

        "I don't like those anymore," Bucky says in a tone that indicates slight annoyance.

        "Oh come on," I hear Steve say, teasingly. "You used to love these!"

        "I said I don't anymore," Bucky mumbles. I can hear the screech of a stool against the sleek floors. I back away from the door, preparing to run, when Steve says, "What is it Bucky?" He seems to sense something else is amiss.

        "Nothing," Bucky mumbles again.

        "Buck, you can tell me anything," I hear Steve insist.

        The sigh of a man who is finally asked the right question fills the air. "I'm not the same person I was, Steve." Bucky just let's it out simply. "I don't think I will ever be that man again. We have past together, and the more I talk with Ella, the more I realize that I've changed. We have both changed. There is no way to go back in time, and I don't want us to try to believe that things can go back to the way things were."

         He pauses. Bucky speaks in a soft, but clear tone. "I'm not going to be the same Steve. I just want you to understand that. I owe you more than I can say, and I don't want you to feel like you still owe it to me to be my friend. But I still want you to be," Bucky finishes lamely.