This You Will Be The One Worth Knowing

I’ve always been melancholic

—

Gale is still visibly upset when he turns to squint at Bucky in the dark. Plump lips in a down-turn, brows drawn together in the middle. But he sits up, hands with a slight shake as he slips into his boots without lacing them. He runs a long-fingered hand through his hair when he stands before taking a deep breath and motioning with a curt hand toward Bucky as if to say ‘well?’

They step outside and around the back of the barracks. The morning is cold, as they usually are at Thorpe Abbotts. It tingles the skin, shocks you to life.

He can tell Buck feels exposed out here, half dressed while Bucky stands in a fully buttoned uniform that’s been on since the day before. John feels oddly similar.

John longs to touch but Gale is still tetchy.

What will it take for him to accept that this is how it is? Two more flights? Ten? That John didn’t mean to hide this reality from him, that what he really wanted was to shield him but there was nothing in the world that Bucky would ever do to stop Gale from flying because that’s where they’re meant to be; regardless of what they find up there.

He wants to scream that he’s sorry. He wants Buck to know that he knows. He see’s himself too, when the soup is thick it feels like being shaken inside of a can of jelly, watching yourself from the outside. That all he thought about was touching wheels-down and seeing Gale’s slightly annoyed face but wasn’t sure such a selfish thought was enough to ensure his crew’s safety home.

Is that what Buck would want to hear?

Is this why he’s being punished?

“Bucky?” Gale’s rasp from sleep shakes the thoughts from Bucky’s mind. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Hushed tones. “You’re drunk.” Accusatory. A statement. And Bucky doesn’t like it, doesn’t like to be accused even if the accusation is a correct one. Especially not from Gale.

He can feel the disappointment rolling off of him like the heat between them. John is as giddy as he is ashamed.

“Bucky.” A pause. “John.” This one is stern.

Bucky takes a step forward and if Gale was a meek man, he’d have stepped back. He doesn’t. Their chests nearly touching. “You wanted something from me and I didn’t know how to give it to you, Buck.” It comes out more earnest than he meant for it but that’s what the hair of the dog does to you—bites.

—

In the end, it isn't Gale who spots him first. It's Crank, who shouts "Bucky!" so joyfully, and his call is at once picked up by Gale's other men, all yelling Bucky! and Hey, Major!. Gale finds himself pushing past the men clustered around the fence, uncaring about how he might look in that moment. He wants to see Bucky for himself, doesn't think he can believe that he's here, that he's safe until Gale lays his own eyes on him. When he gets to the front of the line and finally spots Bucky, Gale can't help his lips from curling up.

"John Egan, your two o'clock!" he calls. Across the yard, Bucky's chin lifts, his head swivelling as if he can pick out the sound of Gale's voice even above the clamour of other desperate calls. When their eyes meet, the rush of relief that runs through Gale nearly brings him to his knees. "What took you so long?"

(...)

His smile is as wide as ever, but even from a distance Gale can see something haunted in his eyes. When Bucky finally reaches their group he greets their men first, mussing dirty hair, shaking hands, and landing slaps on backs—Johhny Brady receives one, along with a firm clasp of a hand—before he falls into step next to Gale, right in the space he's claimed for himself from the day they first met. His gait is unsteady but he's clearly trying to hide it, as he is the grimace on his face that tightens minutely with every step he takes. So when Bucky slings an arm across his shoulders Gale only lets out a world-weary sigh, like they're back in Thorpe Abbotts after a long night at the O Club that began with Bucky cajoling, then needling, Gale to join their boys for drinks, for morale.

If loving me means letting go and wishing me the best then I guess I wish you loved me less