Steve couldn't stop the grin that commanded his glowing face, and didn't want to. For the first time in a two weeks he had felt hope. He had felt a positive emotion and it was slowly consuming him like a toxin in his veins; it had waged siege on his heart, battling its way in and taking control of it. Trying to bury that ecstatic emotion would be an atrocity and he clung on to that great feeling tenaciously.
As he pulled up outside of his old home he felt a wave of optimism overcome him, there was a bounce in his springy step, an eager certainty that it was where he was going to find Bucky. There was a confidence in his gut, an instinctual feeling. He could almost feel his presence like a sniffer hound can follow a scent and find a person.
The moment the chugging bike resounded in the neighbourhood, Bucky's ears were burning. He'd heard that engine being revved too many times to forget its distinct sound. His eyes darted about the room, he saw no way out; it was a dead end. He had a grime coated green-tinged window to his left and a door which lead back through to the kitchen; there was nowhere to run.
Steve plodded his was up the shaky eroded metal steps, the rusting material creaking beneath his feet. He reached the decaying door, dank and damp and crumbling to the touch. His eyes registered the sign nailed into the rank wood and he frowned; it was an unwise decision to enter, but it was a necessary evil.
An eyebrow rose questioningly as he saw the key lodged in the lock, a shiny lump of metal that stood out against the rotting door and sparkled as the sun hit it. He gave the door a tentative wary push, just letting it rock open on its own hinges and a long creak sounded, eeking into the cavernous rooms.
He ducked in through the wonky doorframe and peered in at what used to be his home. It broke his heart in two to see it in such a deteriorated state; to see it mistreated by the elements and time; battered and crumbling. What used to be a sanctum had become a rotting hellhole. It was rather reflective of how their relationship had become.
"Hello?" His inquisitive voice escaped into the gloomy imposing interior, and the sounds of beating wings fluttered above him as a gang of pigeons roosting in the eaves took flight all at once, fleeing the site in anticipation. "The door was open... So I just came in," Steve explained.
Bucky mentally slapped himself for neglecting locking the door. It could've served as a decent barricade between the pair of them or at least bought him some time to think up an escape plan and put it into action.
"I'm really hoping you're in here, buddy..." Steve spoke to the silence, his eyes dancing about, trying to discern any signs of life or movement; trying to pick out anything alive in the deathly apartment. "I've been looking all over..." Like a madman he spoke to what he feared would be an empty house. "Everywhere... I'm sorry it took this long to find you again, it turns out they don't keep CCTV in derelict buildings. Tony and Bruce have hacked the state's mobile network and CCTV feed to try and find you, and that still didn't work. It took me too long to work out where you'd hide. I'm sorry I didn't catch you last time," Steve admitted, looking guiltily down at his feet. "I'm sorry I didn't catch you the first time, Bucky..."
Bucky's heart was beating rapidly at the touching words; they were so heartfelt and honest and he felt guilty for letting Steve be alone; he could hear the weakness and desperation in his wavery voice, inflecting randomly and rather hoarse. He felt solely responsible for the weak tone of Steve's usually confident and bubbly voice. He sounded unlike himself.
Steve wandered about, every footstep creaking worryingly, as if the floor was going to give way at any moment. The planks supporting his feet felt weak and wobbled and bent beneath his feet. A beetle scuttled by as he went to peer into Bucky's old bedroom, just peeping through the gap in the door.
"I really hope I'm not talking to myself... That keeps happening. Like the other day, Tony showed me this flying car in his garage, the bright red one from the Stark expo in 1941, you remember that right, pal?" Steve smiled fondly, reminiscing verbally with nostalgia poisoning his mind and heart. "And I turned around, saying 'Who would've guessed this thing survived with us?' and when I looked over my shoulder..." He shrugged to himself, linking his hands and looking down at them. "I remembered you weren't beside me anymore..."
Bucky heard a piteous sniffle and a quiet whimper and then he could hear footsteps through the wall as Steve entered Bucky's old room. The window was smashed and a brick was situated in a puddle of glass disbursed across the floor in tiny flecks and large chunks. Light poured in through the gaping hole, golden sunlight striking the dingy interior and illuminating the darkness. Ivy crawled in through the gap, climbing into the building and feeding on the light and the moisture; it clung the wall nearest to the window, thriving in the dampness.
"Tony didn't have anything to say to me, he just patted me on the shoulder and gave me a sad smile..." Steve spluttered out a broken-hearted laugh. His lips were pressed together in a thin straight line as he tried to incarcerate the sobs and he cleared his throat to try and remove the blockage sitting there. "I don't think you realise how much I miss you when you're not there..." He admitted. "I know you told me not to follow you, but I just couldn't stay away... I need you by my side Buck.... On my left... The world isn't right without you..." A few disobedient tears rolled down his cheeks, quiet and full of remorse. "When I got to the twenty-first century, the first thing I heard was the baseball game we went to on the radio... You remember that game? The only one we could afford? You worked overtime for three months just to afford those tickets for my birthday..." Steve sobbed, but managed to reign it in again quickly.
Steve paced over to Bucky's bed, and quickly checking how much weight the unsturdy bed could withstand with his foot, he sat down, plopping his weight down on the deflated mattress. He leant back against the wall, praying it would support him where he sat. "But the twenty-first century wasn't right without Bucky Barnes... It was, for me, four days after you were gone when I arrived... And when I got here, all I wanted to do was share the future with you... I felt so lost... I was so used to a hand to guide me, someone who knew everything and was so full of confidence. I wandered around New York City with my head raised to the sky, because it was nothing like I remembered and I had no idea where I was. I was alone for a while after that, before Nicky Fury approached me about the Avengers initiative. But I remember thinking at the time, that I wasn't a hero, that I wasn't cut out for saving the world; that wasn't me. The real hero was you. The Avengers are good people... Great people, but even if you combined all their heroicness, they still wouldn't have a thing on you..." Tears streamed from Steve's delicate blue eyes and he silently cried, trying to keep the sobs to himself.
Steve heard the scuffing of feet the other side of the wall and a creak far too loud to have been made by a rat, so for the first time he heard a noise that didn't belong to an animal or the house. Bucky made his way to the wall separating them and placed a hand on the thin barrier between them, wanting to reach out and touch him. Steve smiled, certain he had heard him, finally confirming his whereabouts.
"I was that scrawny kid from Brooklyn who didn't know how to run away from a fight. I was no hero. You were the one who used to beat up my bullies... You were the one who used to fight off the kids at school and punch the guys in back alleys that wouldn't stop hitting me... You were the one who avenged me if I got harmed... You were the one with the bravery, brains and the brawn... You even had the good looks for a while, buddy..."
Bucky pressed his forehead against the wall and a smile stretched across his face at the ounce of sweet humour in a sour situation.
"And my biggest regret is that I couldn't save you the time that mattered the most. That I couldn't repay the deed. But you were so brave, right until the end... Sure, there was fear in your eyes as you hung off the train, knowing your demise was nigh... But you kept struggling, to hold on, to reach out... So brave." He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "You still are brave, Bucky... You made a brave decision to go against your orders and save me from drowning... You were brave to meet me at the Smithsonian... You were brave to visit me and encourage the renewal of our friendship.... You were brave to fall in love with me."
Steve rose from the bed, standing up tall and sucking in a deep stuttering breath, the inhalation getting staggered in his throat as he cried. He skulked back into the kitchen, light on his feet and moving swiftly to avoid putting prolonged pressure on the floor of the flat.
"Bucky if you're still in love with me... If I still have a place in your heart, then please come home... I need you... It's not just as simple as I want you... I've grown dependent on you... I need you with me, Bucky... I can't lose you again..." His voice rose in pitch. "I love you so much, and you're the most precious thing to me in the entire world... You're brave, and clever, and witty, and handsome, and perfect. And most importantly, mine... I hope."
Tears were forced from Bucky's eyes, no matter how much he tried to hold them back, Steve's words pierced his heart like an arrow; impaling it and making him weep. He felt like he was going to break down if he listened for any longer.
Steve made his way over to the door of his bedroom and raised a fist to the wood. He tapped twice, knocking politely to request entrance. "I know you're in there... I can hear you..." Steve spoke softly, his face masked with the tears dripping down his cheeks. "I'm not going to chase you... Not again... Not if you really don't want to be found... I just want to talk to you, Bucky... Because being apart from you is killing me."
Steve's sobs become far more obvious. He raised a fist to his mouth and pressed it against his tightly sealed lips, his chest wracked and heaved as he cried.
"Please... Just say something... Anything... Even to hear your voice again would be a blessing..." Steve pressed his ear against the door, just listening in.
Bucky's hands were on it, holding it shut, refusing to let it budge, refusing to let himself walk out and hurt him again. "I'm sorry..." The words were sincere and intermixed with a whine.
"You're forgiven, Bucky... You're always forgiven... And I'm sorry too, I said some awful, awful things..." Steve gave the door a small push and immediately felt it shoved back towards him. "Are you gonna let me in?" Steve asked, just to clarify.
"I can't do that..." Bucky disagreed, sounding rough.
"Of course you can... Just open this door and I'll take you home. We'll go back and kiss on the couch... We can cuddle in bed... We could watch Star Trek if you'd really like. I don't mind. Whatever you want to do... Just say it, and I'll make it happen... I know I don't have much to offer, but I was kind of hoping that I was enough." Steve swallowed thickly, the block in his throat bobbing up and down and clogging even tighter.
"I'm no good for you, Steve... I'll just harm you again... Maybe physically eventually. I'm a monster... I'm not the man I was before."
Steve sighed deeply and dropped to a low squat. He lifted the rattling metal dog tags off his neck and slid them beneath the gap beneath the door, offering his title back to him.
"No you're not. You're James Buchanan Barnes and you are the love of my life... And I'm with you till the end of the line, whoever you are or decide to be... But to me you will always be Bucky. My Bucky. Brave Bucky Barnes, the hero. And you will always be welcome home."
Bucky felt the metal hit his boot and dropped down to his knees to recover the second most treasured thing he owned; the first, you understand, was Steve - even if he didn't realised he owned him: body and soul. Bucky clutched them in his human hand, then glanced at his metal hand, a reminder of the monster that was always going to be inside of him; even if Steve's crest was painted onto the inhuman part of him.
"Thank you..." Bucky whispered, tears dripping onto the floor.
Then he turned and ran, and with one brave leap his smashed through the window and was gone.
Steve shoved the door open at the ghastly sound, his eyes rushing around the room, and when he realised he was gone, he fell to his knees and cried.
A/N - Dedication goes to carryonwaywardcas! x