Bucky and Steve turned up outside the tower, planning to hang with Bruce and Tony for the day, exploiting the opportunity to see the reclusive doctor before he hid away once more, disappearing himself overseas in the heart of some overpopulated country miles off in the middle east. They knew it wouldn’t be long until the gold-hearted doctor returned himself to the medically dangerous field to help heal the less fortunate.
Steve and Bucky hugged drowsily in the lift. Bucky was exhausted from the night they’d spent getting busy and he was practically falling asleep standing up, narcoleptic from enervation. His body was reliant on Steve to stay upright.
“You alright there, champ?” Steve questioned in a hushed sensitive tone, combing his fingers through Bucky’s fluffy dark hair and pecking him tenderly on the forehead.
“Mm…” Bucky grunted in the back of his throat, his sleepless-stained eyes falling shut.
Ping! The lift chimed sharply and the doors parted at the workshop level to reveal Bruce and Tony conversing around a computer interface, faces drenched in a blue hue from the light the screens gave off.
“Yes of course I trust him,” Bruce spluttered incredulously, removing the glasses from where they were precariously perched on the tip of his nose, folding them carefully and placing them slowly in his trouser pocket. “Don’t you?” Bruce’s face was turned into one of scepticism and unsettlement, his brow lowering.
“Of course not. Give me one good reason-“ Tony reared his head and his malicious moody expression transformed in an instant, like someone had flicked a switch, but a glimmer of resentment flashed across his ebony brown eyes, something untrustworthy residing there. “Steve, Bucky,” He greeted them, nodding his head to the pair, Steve more so than Bucky.
“Because-“
Tony held a commanding hand up to Bruce to shut him off. Bruce breathed the words silently and trailed off and awkwardly hung his head, falling utterly silent.
“How are you both?” Tony politely inquired, his eyes fluttering skittishly forth and back between the pair of them, a disdainful smile carved onto his lips. “And do come in…” He beckoned them into the smoggy fume-filled workshop.
Bucky disengaged the hug and dawdled in, holding Steve’s hand loosely, a little hesitant and sticking close by Steve’s side.
Bucky began “Goo-“
“Great,” Tony cut him off. “Steve, a word,” he demanded abruptly, leaving Bucky with a gaping mouth and an offended look on his face, his bottom lip hanging down and then reuniting with the top when he realised his input wasn’t wanted.
Bucky exchanged a worried and tenacious glance with Steve, pulling the puppy dog eyes and clutching his hand tighter.
Bruce looked back and forth between the handful of them, subtly ingesting the spectacle; he could taste the tension on the air and felt his usually plodding rhythmic pulse quicken a tad with stress and rubbed at the back of his neck.
“Uh…” Steve grumbled, slipping an arm around the waist of his partner and cuddling him closer. “Sure, what is it?” Steve let a fretful laugh slip, a dry laugh.
“In private, I mean,” Tony stated, his voice dripping with edginess and aggravation. His eyes were cold and his gaze was lacking in depth. He kept a faultless poker face as he addressed Steve.
“Oh,” Steve cooed, slightly thrown.
“Bruce if you’d be so kind as to take Mr Barnes upstairs,” Tony maintained eyecontact with Steve all the while he issued directives.
Bruce looked about, bewildered, wordless and twisting his head as if to look for a directive. His dark eyes were wide in his head as he looked about. He blinked a couple times, agitated by the suffocating silence; tension was looming over the group like a shadow.
Tony cleared his throat and looked to his companion. “Bruce-“
“Oh… Right… Yeah,” he muttered, snapping out of his awkward daze and flashing a brief tiny apprehensive smile and Bucky and attempting to guide him back over to the lift, toddling with his head down, knotting his fingers and thumbs together and trying to occupy himself by looking down at his interlocked hands.
Bucky placed a small kiss on Steve’s cheek. “I’ll see you later then,” He said in a questioning tone, unable to help the querulous look he shot Tony out the corner of his eye.
“Yeah, sure,” Steve replied softly, cupping his cheek and giving it an innocent peck.
Bucky strode away to the lift and managed to dart inside just before the doors shut and stood, feet spaced apart in a hip-width stance next to Bruce. They stood in silence as they ascended the many floors, both looking straight ahead and remaining statue still. The lift zipped up and away.
“What was it you wanted?” Steve asked in a stern tone, with a steely look in his bright blue eyes. There was something up with Tony.
“You think you know everything about Bucky?” Tony began, something accusing already in his vile tone.
Steve tipped his head and looked Stark in the eye, not withdrawing his glare. He huffed out a dramatic breath. “I do. But I have the strange feeling that you’re about to try and prove that wrong,” Steve sighed, rolling his eyes.
Bucky and Bruce arrived at the comfortable seating area, the communal space. New York was caught in a bleary mystifying snowy haze, caught up in a blizzard, every building showered in white and the wind howled like a wolf at the great summit of the skyscraper, swirling around the peak and rattling the structure. Grey tinged light poured in through the windows and dimly illuminated the area.
Bruce flicked a switch in the corner and the floor and ceiling lights glowed on, gradually lighting up until they were at full brightness.
Bucky removed his unnecessary damp leather jacket and tossed it over the leather sofa and then flopped on the massive article of furniture, dropping down onto his back and slinging his hands behind his head. He could feel himself sinking into the settee and was immediately put into a mesmeric relaxed trance.
But silence hung rigid in the air and Bruce lingered in the compact corner like an unacquainted stranger, his brown eyes screaming for Bucky to say something, in the absence of enough confidence to say the first word.
Wondering if Bruce was ever going to speak up, Bucky sat up on his folded legs, his butt resting on his feet and draped his arms over the back of the couch, balancing his chin on the back of the sofa. “Doctor Banner, right?” Bucky asked, gesturing toward him, smiling welcomingly at the edgy man. “I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.”
“Uh…” He coughed. “Yeah.” And pulled a vague smile. “Although, I’d prefer if you called me Bruce, everyone else does,” he replied in a hoarse voice, one side of his mouth quirking into a coy smile.
“Ah,” Bucky agreed. Once again that silence drew between them.
“And you’re James right?” Bruce began, wincing slightly with anxiety.
“Bucky… No one’s called me James since about 1933,” he explained.
“That’s quite a big time jump,” Bruce remarked, leaning against the wall.
“Yeah,” Bucky chuckled. “I suppose it is.” He’d not really considered how awkward that sounded before now.
“What’s that like..? I-i-if you don’t mind me asking?” He stammered, swallowing thickly and then running a hand through his hair.
“Not at all… I suppose it was odd… I mean, it was more gradual for me than Steve, I was awake amidst that 70 year period; just sort of in and out of cryostasis, so it was less of a leap for me. I saw technology advance steadily, whereas Steve fell asleep in the golden age and woke up in this industrially revolutionised time; where metal men can fly and there are hovering ships in the sky, you know?” He took a chatty tone with Doctor Banner, trying to help the guy cool off.
Bruce nodded shyly, some of his dark curls falling over his face, diluted with wisps of silver.
Bucky could see the guy’s skin was itching with nerves, he was literally a bundle of nerves, trembling away and burbling. If you were to look up awkward in a dictionary there would probably be a little doodle of Bruce beneath it.
“There’s no need to be so shy big guy, why don’t you come and sit down?” Bucky encouraged him by slapping the cushion besides him. “What’re you hiding from? I don’t bite… Well, unless it’s Steve, but in his case he quite likes it,” Bucky gave him a casual wink and managed to pull a quiet titter out of Bruce and saw his eyes light up a little. “C’mon,” he jolted his head to the side a couple times, gesturing to the space next to him.
“I’m assuming that Steve’s told you about my… Condition,” Bruce uttered quietly, picking at his cuticle on his thumb with the other, taking timid steps towards Bucky.
“He might have mentioned it.” Bucky shrugged and continued to smile.
“And you’re not… Alarmed? At all? By it?” Bruce curiously studied Bucky’s facial expression.
“We all have things we’re not proud of and don’t completely have control over. I call my ‘Hyde’ the Winter Soldier and occasionally he… Bleeds to the surface. I suppose it’s just more literal for you, Doctor,” Bucky explained empathetically.
Bruce smiled at that. “I’ve never heard the other guy referred to like that before,” Bruce laughed a little.
“No?” Bucky tipped his head, seeing that Bruce was picking up his pace and finally walked around the end of the couch.
“Nope,” Bruce agreed. He finally sat down on the couch. “Thank you for understanding, most people find it a bit… Unsettling, to say the least,” Bruce detailed.
“Well, from what I can see you’re a pretty chill guy, and I trust that you’re not going to explode on me. And I’m not most people, so…” Bucky shrugged again. “I like to judge people on how they want to consider themselves, not by the word or opinion of another. But from what Steve has told me about you, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Bruce took comfort in Bucky’s willingness to broach the subject. “You’ll probably change your tune when the other guy makes an appearance,” Bruce informed him with a sad smile.
“I’ll just try my best not to make you angry,” Bucky joked. Bruce chuckled along with him.
Meanwhile, downstairs, Tony was flicking through his database packed full of information about Bucky, all compressed into one folder which he was to present to Steve.
“What do you think you can show me that I don’t already know?” Steve questioned Tony with all seriousness, his arms crossing defensively over his chest.
“This…” Tony announced.
With a flourish of his hand he played a video of Bucky thrashing out in the lab, sat down on a chair near an electrical device, smashing doctors into the wall, inflicting pain and violence on the HYDRA staff. Cracks and squelches sounded out from the computer and violent sickening images filtered across the screen. “Tell me Steve, has Bucky displayed any abnormally violent behaviours?” Tony asked like a psychiatrist, about to pick Steve’s brains.
“Bucky!” Steve whined shrilly, his voice being cut off as Bucky’s gripped Steve tighter. “Bucky! Buck…” He coughed violently, his chest jerking as he spluttered and gasped for breath, his struggled inhalations hoarse and sickening. “B-“
“No.” Steve ground his back teeth together.
“And has he shown any signs of regression amidst his ‘so called’ recovery?” Tony snarkily growled at Steve.
“I’m sorry… That wasn’t me!” Bucky sobbed relentlessly, feeling sick with guilt, his throat choking up and his stomach imploding and balling up. “You have to believe me… I didn’t mean to! I’m so sorry! I had to idea… I didn’t know- I couldn’t control it- It wasn’t- I… I…”
“No.”
“Has he been experiencing any delusions? Or post-traumatic episodes?” Tony continued, taking an almost condescending tone.
“Get to your point, Tony,” Steve snapped, feeling his nerves being tested and his patience ticking away.
“Has Bucky been at all erratic?” Tony continued to pry.
“Tony…” Steve stared intently at him.
“Has he?” Tony raised an eyebrow and put on an innocent voice.
“What is it you’re trying to say?” Steve couldn’t be bothered with beating around the bush a second longer.
“Let me show you something else…” Tony murmured, turning back to his console and clicking through the interface. He slid his hand across and flung the documents off the screen and enlarged them in the air, images and files surrounding them. More videos played, of others becoming crazed and violent, attacking people, murdering, slaughtering handlers in laboratories. “There’s been tests on people for years, brainwashing, mind manipulation, sleep agents… You name it: a secret organisation has tried it. But whenever these… tweaks of the mind occurs, the victim always has one thing in common, no matter what they’ve been put through…”
“And what might that be Tony?” Steve was tapping his foot impatiently.
“They all end up reverting… Eventually they all go back to their basic programming, in some form or another; they’re never truly free. And so many go manic, or delusional or crazed-“
“Oh my god…” Steve sighed. “This is ridiculous…” He grumbled, turning away.
“It’s not! I’m trying to warn you of what dangers you could have in store for you!” Tony cried, his voice straining in his throat.
“Do I even want to know why you’re looking into this so deeply?!” Steve hollered at him, taking a few steps back and jabbing a finger at him in the air. “Why you’ve got so many damn photos and clips of my boyfriend stashed on your computer… To try and incriminate him, or something?” Steve scoffed. “I’m done…” He batted a hand and swanned over to the lift, slamming the button and standing there.
“I’m trying to help you!” Tony explained, darting over and shutting off the screens.
“No, you’re just trying to hurt Bucky in any way that you can…”
A/N - One minute to midnight and it's uploaded! I actually got one out on a consecutive day! Sorry for the delay lately; stress has been piled on with a shit tonne of GCSE coursework and out of school commitments. Sleeplessness and illness has played a part too. I'm off to work experience next week; meaning zero school stress and more hours to commit to hobbies and no homework; so daily uploads should continue again soon - if not from now.
I really do love writing Bruce Banner; I can assure you there'll be more of him appearing in this story! How about Bucky/Bruce for brOTP? I like that idea.
Dedication goes to psychowifi!