Run (A Bucky Barnes Recovery Story)

67 Happiness

Bucky got out of his bed sometime later, when the pounding stopped and he could breathe in and out and in and out without reminding himself. He wanted to see Steve now because of the things he had lost and was losing, but it was early in the morning, 3 or 4 AM, he forgot the moment he looked away from the clock because his concentration was blurring. There was just so much on his mind and it was complicated because he wanted things with Steve to be like they were before, but Bucky couldn’t forgive him, not now, couldn’t trust him, not now. Still, although Bucky was angry and he wanted to break his promise and he wanted to cut Steve out, he knew, in the long run that this was bigger than anything. Bucky could be losing it all and he needed to talk to Steve.

It was too late either way to call him. But he figured he could still leave a message.

Steve’s cell phone buzzed and Bucky prayed he wouldn’t pick up and he must have either been out or asleep or in another room because Steve didn’t pick up and Bucky let out a sigh of relief. He reminded himself to speak English.

“Hello, this is Steve Rogers, leave a message. Thanks.”

Bucky realized he didn’t know what to say or how to say it and he hung up immediately.

He did this two more times before he could finally pull himself together.

“Hello, this is Steve Rogers, leave a message. Thanks.”

“I don’t know what it is or why it is, but if I keep losing myself like this, there’s not going to be anything left. I don’t want you to go, but I… I’m not… But I don’t forgive you, oka-” Then there was a beep and Bucky realized he had been speaking too slowly, taking too long of pauses and he ground his teeth together and called again. Message four.

“Hello, this is Steve Rogers, leave a message. Thanks.”

“I mean I’m not Bucky!! I-I… I mean I’m not who you used to know. Maybe I used to be. But I’m the-the Winter Soldier, that’s all that’s left of me now. I was never meant to be whole or happy, I’m… You…”

Message five.

“Hello, this is Steve Rogers, leave a message. Thanks.”

“Ugh! What I’m trying to say is that if you’re here to see me be the person you used to know, then you-you shouldn’t expect much. Don’t expect anything!”

“Buck?” Steve’s sleepy voice replied and Bucky froze. He hadn’t heard Steve pick up. He cursed aloud, not in English, and had to stop and remind himself what language he had to speak. “Bucky, it’s like… It’s three in the morning, are you okay?” Bucky didn’t answer. “Did you want to talk now?” Bucky could hear Steve getting out of bed, sitting up, slowly waking.

“You would talk to me right now?” Bucky asked, his voice shaky.

“Yeah, of course,” Steve replied.

“At three in the morning,” Bucky repeated. With no memories, with no humanness, with nothing to offer you?

That’s when Bucky realized that Steve really cared about him, and not just recovering the memories of his kid friend in the thirties. He didn’t have to fight to keep Steve with him, he didn’t have to feel the pressure of not living up to Steve’s expectations, or of trying to be Bucky 1.0. Maybe Steve just loved him. And although things were harder after everything that had happened and Bucky could feel his shattered trust like shards of glass inside him, shifting and turning and slicing him up, the realization that it was all of him that Steve cared about, memories or no, was such a freeing one that he had to take a breath with the shock of it all.

He had nothing to give Steve and Steve was still willing to get up at three in the morning and be his friend.

Bucky dropped down onto his couch and used the back of his hand to cover his eyes. He felt a lump rising in his throat.