#steve1

@starspangled-warrior​

Bucky choked on a scream as he jerked awake, startling up from the floor. He clapped a hand to his mouth immediately to muffle the sound of it escaped, aware almost instantly where he was in spite of the claws of the nightmare still digging into him. He listened to his own heaving breath and felt it against his palm. Steve’s room wasn’t far away and if he heard Bucky screaming? Well, he didn’t need that on his plate right now on top of everything else. Once he was entirely certain no tell tale noise was going to escape his mouth he dropped his hand, letting the shakes and shivers wrack their way through his body. It wasn’t like this was an uncommon occurrence. He pulled his knees up and rested his head against them for a moment, trying to get his breath back. The movement made his dog tags clink slightly and that was strangely grounding. No Chair, no HYDRA, no punishments waiting for him. No ghosts of his victims swarming around him though if anyone deserved to be haunted Bucky was sure it was him. 

He spent a couple more moments just breathing, slowing his heart rate down, then got up smoothly, bringing the blanket with him as he did. He threw it and the pillow back on the too big, too soft bed. It wasn’t like he wanted anyone to know he slept on the floor. He pulled on pants and a T-shirt, avoiding the rooms mirror until the shirt was on and then he looked at himself to assess the situation. He looked like shit. Pale, tired, still kind of spooked, hair messy from being slept on. That, at least, he could fix so he spent a little time working that into being acceptable then sighed at his reflection. That was probably the best he could do. He lit up a cigarette, a habit he’d taken up a while ago. It was war again and he remembered everyone doing it in the last one that he’d participated in. It was soothing, not only because it was a small link to who he used to be, but just because the action seemed so familiar and calming. Sometimes he drifted to the window on nights like this but tonight he slipped out of his room, figuring he’d take a walk. Having some respect for others, he moved through the halls as silently as possible until he could slip out into the courtyard. Smoking comforted him but obviously not everyone and it seemed to be frowned on a lot more these days. 

The moon was high as he stepped out into the night chilled air and he looked up at it as he walked out into the middle of the yard. Hands in his pockets, cigarette dangling, nothing but the gentle sounds of the night all around him, it almost felt like being back near his little hut in Wakanda. The stars looked different here but it had that sort of peaceful lull, at least right now, that could almost make a person forget there was a constant war raging all around. 

Bucky’s senses were sharp and he didn’t like being surprised so he was always kind of paying attention to make sure if he knew people were approaching so he heard the footsteps and figured he recognized them. Glancing over his shoulder, sure enough it was Steve. “Shouldn’t you be catchin’ up on your beauty sleep?” The cigarette bobbed as he spoke, lips turned up in a slight smile as he teased gently. He would try to keep it light but if they were both up at this hour that wasn’t a good sign. 

Steve’s dumb, heroic, patriotic ass was in this godforsaken place somewhere and it was damned frustrating that Bucky hadn’t been able to track him down yet. He’d have bet a million bucks that Steve was in here because this was exactly the kind of disaster Steve was drawn towards like a magnet. He knew damn well he was in here because he’d had it confirmed by people he’d talked to but no one seemed to be able to tell him much or give him a location. Figured that he could track down any mark he ever needed to as Hydra’s soldier but in this stupid quarantine zone he couldn’t track down the person that mattered most in the world to him. Bucky was trying to channel his irritation, frustration (and a considerable amount of worry) into productivity and tap into The Asset’s skill set to finally find Steve once and for all. Nevermind that he’d done this kind of methodical searching dozens of times before already, he was damn determined to make Steve materialize in this endless wintery darkness if only through sheer force of will. 

At least, that’s what he’d thought four hours ago (at least it felt like that long ago, it was damn hard to tell time in this eternal darkness) and he was really getting frustrated. It was dangerous for him to get so irritated and angry because there was still a lot of underlying rage and crap that he hadn’t quite worked through so when he got angry it tended to come out in an explosive way. Like, for example, how he’d just screamed and wasted ammo on a helpless stop sign. Fuck. Slinging his rifle back onto his back (it was a little frightening that he didn’t actually remember grabbing it) he closed his eyes and tried to practice the breathing he’d learned in Wakanda. He counted a little, took some deep breaths, focused and got himself at least somewhat back under control. Opening his eyes again, feeling somewhat calmer, he decided on a course of action. Rooftops. He’d try the rooftops again. 

A few minutes later, he was walking along the edge of a rooftop scanning the streets when he saw a light bobbing along down there. It was a neighbourhood without power and Bucky had brought a light too, though his night vision was generally pretty good and he didn’t have his on right now. Running a few feet ahead on the rooftop, he turned around, crouched down and pulled his rifle off his back again, this time purposefully, looking through the scope to see who it might be. What, or rather who, he saw made him nearly lose his balance. What the fuck? He pulled back, breath stuttering for a minute, before he carefully looked back through the scope. It showed the same thing: Steve, finally, but small, like before the serum. Only he was wearing the uniform he’d worn in the battle of Wakanda and had that renegade beard he’d been sporting...but there were also glasses, and the uniform didn’t fit, and he was that little punk from before the war that didn’t know how to back down from a fight. Relief and a strong wave of nostalgia hit him so hard he worried he might fall off the roof for a moment. Swallowing, he lowered the rifle and put it back, wetting his lips and smiling in spite of himself. And then he did something stupid but he couldn’t help himself: he stood and jumped off the roof so he’d land a few feet in front of Steve. It was a low roof and the serum seemed to be working right now (his arm didn’t feel really heavy, anyway) so he took the chance. Luckily, it paid off and he stood slowly, the grin spreading without him being able to help it. He’d probably startled the shit out of Steve and that shield (it looked like it had the wrong colours, for some reason, like it was darker) might be headed his way but Bucky was too giddy to care. He walked quickly towards Steve as he spoke, just barely able to keep himself from breaking into a run.  

“You’re a hard man to track down. ‘Course I was lookin’ for a bigger target, so maybe that’s why.” 

“It doesn’t have to be awkward though, Pepper. I hold no ill will towards you… or Tony. Admittedly, we’re still trying to…” They could work together as teammates, but the status of their friendship was still…

“…I understand though, if… I know he means a lot to you, and I hurt him. I know how hard that is to forgive.”

“No. I will admit it doesn’t have to be Steve,”  Pepper knew. She always knew. It could be easy to simply tell him to fuck off and die, but she knew Tony cared and like it or not she respected his choices even when they were stupid and only going to hurt him in the end,”But that doesn’t change the simple facts of the matter. I let you into my house. I let you become like a family to him, to me. And you betrayed that trust and caused him harm.”