THE SOLDIER & THE SHIELD, stucky

08

"SERGEANT BARNES is being prepped as we speak."

Steve's heart panged with something a bit more solemn than excitement or nervousness.

"Bucky," he said. Natasha and T'Challa both turned to look at Steve, surprised but not particularly offended. Steve's tongue dried up more and more with each passing moment. "You can, um... just Bucky is fine. It's what he prefers."

"Of course," T'Challa said. His face showed no trace of judgment. He was always quietly understanding of Steve and Bucky's needs. For that, Steve would be forever grateful. "How have you been, Captain? Other than a fugitive, of course."

"Things have been... rocky. Hopefully today will solve some of that." Steve crammed his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans.

He found some comfort in the cool metal that awaited his right hand.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Stark told us you decided to sign onto the Accords. I'm glad to hear that, really. It makes your visits a bit less... complicated."

Steve nodded, a flat smile working its way onto his face.

"That's the goal."

He and Natasha exchanged a quick glance. She gave him a reassuring smile that didn't do anything for his hammering heart.

Steve stopped short in the doorway behind T'Challa. It was familiar; Steve had been there so often that it had started to feel like a second home. The armchair and desk still sat across from the Bucky's empty cryotube.

"Hey, you okay?" Natasha's voice sounded far away and muddled. A cold hand was touching his forearm, but Steve couldn't break his attention away from the empty cryotube. "Steve, hey. It's okay."

He shook his head shortly and ran a hand over his face, trying to clear his head. The fog over his brain was strange and seemingly impenetrable.

"They'll bring him out in a minute." Natasha rubbed her thumb across Steve's clammy skin. He hardly felt it. "You should sit down for a minute, you're not looking so hot."

Steve gave her a stiff nod and moved robotically across the room to the desk. All he could do was perch himself on the edge. He didn't want to sit down. He couldn't relax enough.

"What's up?" Natasha's wide eyes blocked Steve's field of view as she stepped in front of him. "What's on your mind?"

"I'm okay," he said automatically. Then, before Natasha could voice how ridiculous he sounded, he tried again. "Just... nervous, I guess. If this is going to be the last time I see him for a while, I want it to be good. I want it to be right."

"Cold feet?" Tony called from across the room. Steve raised his head slowly. He simply didn't have the energy to engage with him. "They say that's normal. Though your circumstances are bit—"

"Can you just give it up?"

Steve whipped around at Bucky's voice, astounded by how well-rested he looked. He'd cut his hair short, shaved his scruff. It was like looking at one of the old pictures that Steve kept in his wallet.

Bucky crossed the room silently and stood next to Steve, who still couldn't make his mouth form a coherent sentence. Bucky wore the same white tank top and black pants as every other time Steve had visited.

He looked so well. He looked happy. He seemed to shine more than ever. He didn't look ragged and burnt out anymore. That is, until his focus shifted to Steve and his smug smirk turned to a sympathetic smile.

"Hey, soldier. You're not looking too hot." Bucky reached out and wrapped his fingers around Steve's hand. "You doing okay?"

Steve forced himself to smile and gave Bucky's fingers a squeeze. "I'm okay. This is just... hard. I'm glad you waited until I could be here."