Run (A Bucky Barnes Recovery Story)

28 Apartment

Steve returned soon after Bucky and Natasha had gotten out a vacuum and cleaned up his hair from off the floor. Steve’s eyes were no longer red. Bucky wondered if he shouldn’t have kept the fact that he killed the Starks to himself, even though it had seemed to burst out of him of it’s own accord. If he had to say something at all, and he knew he did, he wished he could have told Steve gentler.

Bucky wondered how long Steve could continue to remind himself that he didn’t want to blame Bucky. Bucky wondered how much malice Steve had felt towards him before he reminded himself again that Bucky had been a tool. Steve seemed to be avoiding his eyes now. He wanted to approach him and apologize, but he didn’t know how Steve would respond.

“Steve,” Natasha said. He looked at her. “Are you okay?” He took a deep breath and nodded.

“Sorry Buck,” he said, finally meeting Bucky’s eyes for a moment. “You caught me off-guard.” Bucky shook his head slowly.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.”

Bucky realized that this was as close had he had come to truly apologizing or even articulating his most painful thoughts in a coherent sentence in a very long time. It wasn’t everything he wanted to say, but it was something. He couldn’t feel proud of himself, though. It was a milestone he wanted to just take in-stride. And besides, he had too much to blame himself for to ever feel pride in himself. But maybe now, Bucky thought, he could finally share with Steve the things he had wanted to say.

Steve was shaking his head now. Please just say okay, Steve, Bucky thought. Or say it’s not okay, just say something.

“Lets try to finish lunch now,” Steve said.

Lunch had been sandwiches with ham, but Natasha’s white bread must have gone a little stale because they didn’t taste very good and Bucky could tell that Steve had noticed earlier but had said nothing by how much mayonnaise was inside of his sandwich. Bucky choked his down out of politeness instead of a real hunger.

“It’s just not fair,” Steve said loudly in the middle of their quiet meal, throwing his sandwich down and Bucky at first thought he meant it wasn’t fair that the bread was so stale, but he came to realize that Steve was talking about him. He was suddenly unable to swallow. “What did we do to deserve this?” Steve cried. “Is it too much to ask that no one gets hurt for once?”

Before he understood what Steve really meant, Bucky felt like he had been hit. He knew it wasn’t fair to Steve and Natasha and they didn’t deserve it and Bucky had never wanted to hurt anyone, but he had and inside his own mind the knowledge was painful, but coming out of Steve’s mouth, it was so, so much worse.

Don’t blame me, please Steve, I can’t add the weight of your blame to everything else.

There was a long silence and Steve put his head in his hands again. Then, Steve continued and Bucky wondered with a glint of miserable hope if he hadn’t misinterpreted Steve’s words.

“Life was never fair to you, Buck,” Steve said. Bucky stared at him. Fair to him? It wasn’t fair to Howard and Maria Stark. It wasn’t fair to Steve. He had to deal with a broken Bucky now, he had to deal with all of Bucky’s actions and all of his countless murders and Bucky had to deal with them, too, but he expected that. Steve never asked for any of this.

He wanted to leave Steve and he often told himself that all he wanted was Steve to be happy, but he realized that wasn't true. In the end, in his deepest heart, all Bucky wanted was for Steve to love him again and tell him they could be friends again and everything would be fine and that desire was destroying Steve. Bucky was destroying Steve.

He didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t.

When lunch was over, Natasha suggested they find Bucky a new place to live.

“He can get an apartment here,” Steve said as though it were simple. “Or in my building.”

“I don’t think I could do that,” Bucky replied. In his head, he replayed his accusation over and over again. I am destroying Steve.

“Why not?” Steve said. “It’s close, Natasha and I could help watch your back in case anyone jumps you again.”

“I have to lay lower,” Bucky said. “They’re probably all waiting for me to get an apartment right next to you.” And besides, it looked expensive there and Fury didn’t pay him that much. Bucky felt the urge to pull away like he so often found himself doing, pull away and run from the discomfort he felt.

“Then you can close the blinds,” Steve suggested. “Use a different name.”

“I do, and they still find me,” Bucky said. “I need to hide.”

“No,” Steve said and he was beginning to sound determined. “I don’t want you disappearing again, not telling me things. Let me back you up.”

“It might be nice to have you closer,” Natasha said and Bucky looked at her, surprised. He had expected her to agree with him.

“Do you think it would be safe?” Bucky asked. After all, she was the spy, she was his partner, he felt inclined to take her suggestion.

“Yes, actually,” Natasha said and looked over at Steve. “Instead of them finding you in some crummy hotel out in the middle of nowhere and ganging up on you again, they’d have to get through Captain America and Black Widow to even touch you.” She looked back over at him. “And we won’t let them touch you.” Bucky considered Natasha’s thoughts. He supposed she had a point.

“Alright, I’ll stay here,” Bucky agreed hesitantly, rubbing his left hand. But Steve, I can’t watch my brokenness ruin you. I just can’t.\