Bucky got out of his bed sometime later, when the pounding stopped and he could breathe in and out and in and out without reminding himself. He wanted to see Steve now because of the things he had lost and was losing, but it was early in the morning, 3 or 4 AM, he forgot the moment he looked away from the clock because his concentration was blurring. There was just so much on his mind and it was complicated because he wanted things with Steve to be like they were before, but Bucky couldn’t forgive him, not now, couldn’t trust him, not now. Still, although Bucky was angry and he wanted to break his promise and he wanted to cut Steve out, he knew, in the long run that this was bigger than anything. Bucky could be losing it all and he needed to talk to Steve.
It was too late either way to call him. But he figured he could still leave a message.
Steve’s cell phone buzzed and Bucky prayed he wouldn’t pick up and he must have either been out or asleep or in another room because Steve didn’t pick up and Bucky let out a sigh of relief. He reminded himself to speak English.
“Hello, this is Steve Rogers, leave a message. Thanks.”
Bucky realized he didn’t know what to say or how to say it and he hung up immediately.
He did this two more times before he could finally pull himself together.
“Hello, this is Steve Rogers, leave a message. Thanks.”
“I don’t know what it is or why it is, but if I keep losing myself like this, there’s not going to be anything left. I don’t want you to go, but I… I’m not… But I don’t forgive you, oka-” Then there was a beep and Bucky realized he had been speaking too slowly, taking too long of pauses and he ground his teeth together and called again. Message four.
“Hello, this is Steve Rogers, leave a message. Thanks.”
“I mean I’m not Bucky!! I-I… I mean I’m not who you used to know. Maybe I used to be. But I’m the-the Winter Soldier, that’s all that’s left of me now. I was never meant to be whole or happy, I’m… You…”
Message five.
“Hello, this is Steve Rogers, leave a message. Thanks.”
“Ugh! What I’m trying to say is that if you’re here to see me be the person you used to know, then you-you shouldn’t expect much. Don’t expect anything!”
“Buck?” Steve’s sleepy voice replied and Bucky froze. He hadn’t heard Steve pick up. He cursed aloud, not in English, and had to stop and remind himself what language he had to speak. “Bucky, it’s like… It’s three in the morning, are you okay?” Bucky didn’t answer. “Did you want to talk now?” Bucky could hear Steve getting out of bed, sitting up, slowly waking.
“You would talk to me right now?” Bucky asked, his voice shaky.
“Yeah, of course,” Steve replied.
“At three in the morning,” Bucky repeated. With no memories, with no humanness, with nothing to offer you?
That’s when Bucky realized that Steve really cared about him, and not just recovering the memories of his kid friend in the thirties. He didn’t have to fight to keep Steve with him, he didn’t have to feel the pressure of not living up to Steve’s expectations, or of trying to be Bucky 1.0. Maybe Steve just loved him. And although things were harder after everything that had happened and Bucky could feel his shattered trust like shards of glass inside him, shifting and turning and slicing him up, the realization that it was all of him that Steve cared about, memories or no, was such a freeing one that he had to take a breath with the shock of it all.
He had nothing to give Steve and Steve was still willing to get up at three in the morning and be his friend.
Bucky dropped down onto his couch and used the back of his hand to cover his eyes. He felt a lump rising in his throat.
“What if I’m never… Never really Bucky Barnes again?” Bucky said, putting the phone back to his ear.
“What do you mean?” Steve asked.
“I mean, what if I never get those memories back and I’m never the same as before?” Bucky said.
“You want my opinion?” Steve said, his voice still somewhat thick from sleep. “Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but whether you get your memories back or not, I don’t think you’re ever going to be ‘the same as before’. But that doesn’t matter, that was never the goal to begin with.”
“It wasn’t,” Bucky replied before Steve was finished, unsure if it was a question or a statement.
“It wasn’t,” Steve said with some energy and a surety that calmed Bucky’s panicking heart. “Before-that was years ago. We’ve both changed and being the same as before isn’t even on the radar. That’s not the goal.”
“Then what is the goal?” Bucky asked.
“Well…,” Steve said. “It’s about you. What do you think the goal is?” Bucky was quiet. A thousand words ran through his head, things he wanted.
“I want… I just want to be happy again,” he said quietly. “I think I’ve forgotten what that’s like, but I want it.”
“Yeah, me too,” Steve said back.
“I’m just scared I’m never going to be me again,” Bucky continued, leaning forward and away from the back of his couch, putting his elbow on his knee.
“But Buck… You are Bucky Barnes,” Steve replied. He sounded almost incredulous, as though this was something he hadn’t realized that Bucky struggled with. “That’s not the name of the person from before, that’s your name and it’ll be your name forever, no matter what happens. Your identity isn’t something that’s concrete, okay? People change, but you’re still you,”
“Okay,” Bucky said and the lump in his throat grew.
“And I’m still gonna be your friend, okay?” Steve added and Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, hot wetness rolling down his face.
“Okay,” he whispered again.
“How’re you feeling?” Steve asked after a while and Bucky used the back of his hand to wipe at his face.
“Thank you,” he only said quietly.
“Don’t mention it, buddy,” Steve replied. “And hey,” he added loudly, yawning. “It’s been almost a week, you think Tony’s done with your arm yet? Maybe he’ll call in the morning.”
“Yeah,” Bucky said, smiling a little and still trying to dry his face. “Think he’ll make it gold and red, too?” He didn’t know what he was doing, joking. He didn’t want to forgive Steve yet, but he knew he needed this. Talking with Steve, he felt more human and more himself than he had that entire week. Steve laughed.
“You know, he’s got, like, blasters in his palms,” he said.
“My other arm couldn’t do that,” Bucky replied as a joke and then Steve hesitated.
“You know, I don’t know how we’re going to get your arm back, Buck,” Steve said and Bucky frowned again.
“We’re going to have to,” he said.
“Why?” Steve asked and Bucky realized that Steve really didn’t know. Bucky wasn’t sure if he could explain.
“I…,” he started. “I mean, Steve, it’s my arm. That’s just it. I don’t want another one, I want my arm back.”
“Even if Tony can make you one just as good?” Steve asked.
“Even if Tony makes an exact replica,” Bucky replied adamantly. “It’s not just that I want to have four limbs again,” he continued. “That’s my arm and they stole it from me. I can’t let them have it.” Steve was quiet for a moment.
“Then we’ll get it back for you,” he said, and then Bucky could almost hear the dorky grin on his face by the way his words lightened. “And it’s pretty cool.” Bucky smiled a little.
“Yeah, it is. I could definitely beat you at arm-wrestling with my left,” he replied and Steve laughed out loud. Bucky loved how much Steve laughed. He always seemed to be able to laugh when Bucky couldn’t.
“I think that would qualify as cheating,” he said.
“Would it, though? Because you still have an advantage with both arms, I just get super-strength in one arm,” Bucky replied.
“Alright, that’s it, first thing we’re doing when you get your arm back is testing this out and seeing who wins,” Steve said.
“I refuse to take responsibility for any broken tables or walls because of this,” Bucky said and he laughed with Steve then.
What do you think the goal is?
I just want to be happy.
“But I’m probably keeping you up,” Bucky said hastily. “It’s still three?”
“It’s more like three-forty, but yeah,” Steve said.
“Okay then,” Bucky said, beginning to feel bad now. “I guess I’ll go.”
“Do you want to go?” Steve asked and Bucky really didn’t. He liked pretending things were okay with Steve, he liked being human.
“I guess not,” Bucky said. “But you were sleeping.”
“I’m awake now, Buck,” Steve said. “If you leave, I’ll probably just stay up and draw.” Bucky considered this and then he knew there was something he had to do.
“Steve, about… About the Natasha thing…,” Bucky started and heard Steve suck in a breath.
“Bucky, I’m so sorry, you have every right to be mad,” Steve said.
“I’m not mad at you,” Bucky said as he realized within himself slowly that it was true. “I was, but I forgive you now. I… I don’t think you understood… What it meant to me.”
“I wanted you to be happy, Bucky,” Steve said. There was a desperation in his voice, a straining. “She made you so happy. And it was her secret to keep.”
“I know,” Bucky said. “But Steve, I… I forgive you, but I don’t… I can’t… Trust you anymore. Not like I did before.” Steve was silent for a long time. Bucky thought maybe they could be different things, the trust and the forgiveness, two separate entities. Because he didn’t resent Steve, not so much, not anymore. It had dissolved away with this phone call and Bucky knew how Steve hated himself for it, for everything. But maybe they could be friends and Bucky could forgive him, but he didn’t know if they could ever be so close because Bucky couldn’t let him lie to him again. “Steve?” Bucky said quietly, his voice breaking as the silence went on and on. “Are you there?”
“Yeah,” Steve replied. “I know, I understand. I thought you might say something like that.”
“I’m sorry,” Bucky said and Steve let out a breath.
“No, Bucky, I’m sorry,” he said and Bucky swallowed and blinked, staring up at the ceiling.
“I know,” he said quietly. There was another pause and then Steve continued, hesitantly, as though willing to stop and turn back if Bucky gave any sign that he didn’t want to continue, but Bucky did. He couldn’t trust him, like he couldn’t trust anyone, but he could still talk to him.
“Have you talked to her about it yet?” Steve asked and Bucky said no.
“I don’t know what to say,” Bucky said. “I don’t remember her. And I thought she would understand that I needed to know.”
“She wanted to tell you,” Steve said. “She felt so bad, but I don’t think she knew how to say it.”
“Yeah, she told me,” Bucky said, even though his own personal assessment of how Natasha had felt about the lie had been different. He wasn’t certain what he saw in her eyes about the way she had lied to him, but it was endlessly more complicated than Steve said. He rubbed his eyes again, heavy with exhaustion he was only now realizing. “I want to forgive her so badly,” he continued. “But I don’t think things can ever go back to normal now.”
“She still loves you,” Steve added quietly. “She wants to make things right.”
“Yeah, I…,” Bucky said. “I still love her.”
“I’m sorry, Bucky,” Steve said and Bucky sighed, leaning back into his couch.
“Me too,” he said, then smiled softly. “Think she’d mind if I woke her up, too?” Steve chuckled.
“Honestly? I think she’d be more than happy,” Steve said. But Bucky knew that wasn’t something he could do. Not yet. He wasn’t ready to face her yet.
As the morning wore on, Bucky thought more about being happy. It was a complicated thing, happiness, especially now when he had so many pieces to pick up and so many shards going missing. He didn’t know if Steve made him happy or simply distracted him from his sadness, and then again, he also wasn’t sure if there was a difference.