It's Always Been You

Chapter 5

Steve strolls to the old hallways of the barracks in New Jersey.

He's set his time-watch-thing (Tony's never told him what it's called, after all) back to Bucky, but for now, his mind is set on making things right with Peggy, and saying goodbye to her once and for all.

The guilt of leaving his first love— scratch that, Bucky is, but he's too dumb to admit it— to dive himself into the ice was almost too much to bear, and he might just have that dance he's promised her and that's it. No strings attached.

He sees her in the room where he held the shield for the first time, and he hopes that his old self isn't there to intervene.

Luckily, he isn't.

It's about a day before his old self carries the shield, and a day before he kisses that other girl in front of Peggy— what was her name?

"Peggy," he calls out, straightening his tie. He sneaked into his old room to get the outfit to match the occasion, as his shirt and jeans from earlier wouldn't do so. "Hi."

"Oh, Steve!" Peggy greets, her face breaking into a grin. "Hello."

Steve smiles back, jutting his hand out to her awkwardly. "Um... may I have this dance?"

Peggy looks at him, at first puzzled, but then smiles her beautiful smile and says yes.

***

Bucky waits for his partner-in-crime to come back from wherever he is, still sipping on his espresso.

The bell on the door jingles, signaling that someone else has come in.

"Aren't you that James guy?" a man in his late twenties asks when he sees Bucky.

Why'd I have to sit facing the entrance? Bucky scolds himself. "Who's James?" he asks, faking his confusion.

"The guy who was drafted right outta high school," the man replies, tilting his head, a mischievous smirk on his face.

Bucky almost cringes at the memory. "Oh," he breathes out. "I uh, I don't know no James. Sorry, bud."

"I'm pretty sure you are," the man insists.

It dawns on Bucky that the man in front of him used to be one of the bullies who used to beat Steve up, and when Bucky tried to intervene, he and his whole gang would beat him up too.

"I'm not," Bucky tells him. "My name's Jamie." Stupid!

"Jamie, eh?" The man snickers. "That's bullshit, Barnes."

"Who the hell is Barnes?"

"Stop fucking lying to me," the man, who Bucky remembers as Dick (his name is Richard, but Bucky thinks that Dick suits his personality better), takes a threatening step forward.

Bucky scans the room quickly, looking for the exit aside from the front door because Dick is blocking it. He's in no shape to fight, especially not after the rain of fire that unfortunately had hit the back of his thigh and his upper back. The wounds will heal, of course, but right now's really not a good time for him to defend himself.

"Scared, huh?" Dick mocks, seeing Bucky's alarmed expression. "What, your buddy's not here to save you? The guy you probably fucked at the back of an alley?" he continues.

Bucky frowns. "I have no idea who you're-"

Dick's fist meets Bucky's face, making him stumble. The wound on his back hits the chair, making him suck in a sharp breath when he feels the pain searing through his body.

"What's your problem?" Bucky demands. He stands up abruptly, grasping Dick by the collar with his right hand. He purposefully doesn't use his left hand— he'd rather be beaten up than use it. He's hurt too many people with it.

"My problem," Dick spits,"is that you're in the military, and you're gay." He laughs humorlessly. "They picked you instead of me." He spots the light reflecting off Bucky's left arm, and he laughs again, this time maniacally. "Oh, I'm sorry. Lover boy must've left you 'cause you have that thing, huh?"

"You have one chance to shut the fuck up," Bucky warns through gritted teeth. His left arm whirs with how hard he's clenching his fist, trying his hardest not to sock Dick in the face.

Dick snorts. "As if you're gonna do anything," he teases. "I can see it in your eyes, James. You wouldn't hurt me 'cause you've hurt oh-so many people already. The war's not doing you any good, huh?"

The fact that Dick's hitting all of Bucky's insecurities is unbelievable. How'd he know that he's killed many? Is Bucky really that bad of an actor?

Bucky squares his jaw, his eyes set on the table next to him, and smashes the man in front of him on it before he runs out of the shop, tossing the counter a twenty-dollar bill for the drinks.

He doesn't know where he's going, but that's the least of his problems. His memories are resurfacing, and none of them are good. He knows Steve will be looking for him once he gets back, but he doesn't think the small coffee shop has enough air for him to breathe. It's too small— similar to the cell he was kept in during his years in HYDRA.

So he runs and runs, and finds himself curled up in his old bedroom, hoping that the old him wouldn't find how much of a monster he'll turn out to be.

Hugging his legs close to his chest, he sighs. I'm pathetic, he thinks to himself, wiping his tears frustratedly. He's done feeling bad for himself, but these damn emotions aren't exactly making it easy for him to do so.

He sometimes wishes he could be numb like he'd been before, but the thought of being so numb makes him hurt even more.

Everything was going so well, he thinks to himself. I ruined everything.