Run (A Bucky Barnes Recovery Story)

21 Loneliness

Steve Rogers had the golden heart of a good man. He had all the best of intentions and he loved Bucky Barnes like a brother. He had for years.

But there were so many regrets now, so many things changed, and so much hurt Steve thought he could drown in it. Like he had told Natasha Romanoff weeks ago as she sat on his couch and listened to his agony, he had watched the introduction to Bucky’s personal hell. He remembered that fight, that train, that deep, snowy ravine and berated himself constantly, tortured himself, thinking if only, if only. If only he had reached harder for Bucky. If only he could have diverted the blast, kept the train car intact. If only he had found Bucky before Hydra did. He’d saved him once before, but after that, it seemed as though their luck was up and it was Bucky who bit the bullet and lost everything. Steve knew it. He saw it in his friend’s eyes. They had drained the very soul out of him and Steve wasn’t quite sure what they had replaced it with.

Regardless, Steve wasn’t going to let Bucky down again. No matter the rejection he received, no matter the situation, Steve was going to be there for his friend. He would never fail him again if he could help it. In his head, Steve could see the first time Bucky had been taken prisoner by Hydra. He saw the dark room, the straps around his hands and feet and the blank stare on his face as he mumbled.

It’s me, it’s Steve.

Steve felt sick. He was pacing his apartment, wearing a rut into the carpet as the day grew dark around him. He could see the countless times Bucky had stood between him and angry bullies, nasty older boys with fists as big as Steve’s whole face. Bucky had never let him down. The weight of Steve’s failure sat on him as heavy as the world. He shouldn’t have, he didn’t need to, but Steve Rogers took it all. He took the responsibility for everything. Every bullet shot because Bucky didn’t know what he was doing. Every year spent in cryo-stasis like a tool turned off. Every memory wiped that kept Steve himself from rising in Bucky’s memory and kept him away still.

And through it all, Steve was alone. He’d begun to get used to being alone, in this new world he lived in where no one was really like him at all. Natasha was his friend, but she’d heard it all and she’d listened and he couldn’t ask her to do it one more time. Bucky’s return should have been a miracle, should have been a blessing, but it seemed to cause the both of them more pain than joy. Peggy was a ghost and as much time as he spent by her side, she remembered him as much as Bucky did.

Steve was just spending a lot of time by himself and it was eating him alive.

That night, however, he received a call he hadn’t expected and he picked up the phone, unsure of what he was going to hear.

“Steve!” Bucky exclaimed and he almost sounded like he had seventy years ago in Brooklyn and Steve felt gutted standing there, holding the phone to his face.

“Bucky,” Steve said.

“You were right about spaghetti,” Bucky said and he, Steve couldn’t be sure, but did he sound like he was smiling?

“I was?” Steve said, mostly just for something to say.

“Yes, most certainly. And meatballs are really, I mean, they’re good, too,” Bucky replied, speaking fast. He was excited to talk to Steve, he was excited to share this with him. Steve thought maybe he ought to pinch himself.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked after a second.

“Steve, hey! I was just taking Bucky out to the Olive Garden, he said you told him his favorite food? He also likes bread, just a heads up,” Natasha’s voice came through the phone and Steve could absolutely not believe what he was hearing.

“Is this a joke,” he said. There was a pause and it sounded like Bucky was mumbling something.

“You should come down and meet us, Steve, we’re out by the highway, it’ll probably take you two minutes to run here,” Natasha suggested and Bucky mumbled something else and Natasha mumbled back and Steve swallowed uncomfortably.

“No, I, uh, I actually can’t, thanks though,” Steve said quietly. Inside, he was screaming. He had been wishing for company, he had been so lonely, but he hadn’t imagined anything like this. “Glad to see you’re rediscovering spaghetti, Buck,” Steve said. There was a pause and suddenly, Bucky wasn’t so excited anymore.

“Yeah,” Bucky said.

“Okay,” Steve said and there, he was gone, Steve had lost him again. Bucky went silent and Natasha said goodbye and Steve hung up and he stood there for another good, solid minute, never having felt so alone in his entire life. He had spent months of steady work and trying to be kind and gentle and he hadn’t gotten so much as a real, honest smile out of James Buchanan Barnes, former best friend, but suddenly, in one afternoon, he was out at restaurants, having meals with everyone else and he was just fine, happy even, and maybe Steve was the one in his way, stopping him from growing away from his past.

There was an element of jealousy in Steve’s heart when he realized that Bucky was so happy and at ease with Natasha. He didn’t understand why that couldn’t be him there on the other end of the line, seeing his friend smile. But mostly, Steve felt guilty about it. He’d had no idea how much Bucky could have healed, and so fast, in the presence of someone else. Steve was, in fact, hindering him and he didn’t know what to do about it.

This was proof, Bucky could be happy without him. Bucky was better off without him and it was Steve in the end that was hurting him.

But then, Steve thought in agonized confusion, why had he called?