[PSL] Steve & Bucky, post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier

[stark_spangled]

Even with the serum, it took a small coma and a lot of PT to get over the physical wounds he sustained when the helicarriers went down. The emotional ones would take a little longer.

"You're my mission!"

Bucky was out there, and Steve was going to find him. He should have died in the crash, but he didn't, and something in his gut tells him Bucky's the reason why. Whether it was mercy, loyalty, or sick curiosity, he knew Bucky would always bail him out of trouble. Steve owed him a fight. He'd fight for him, for their friendship, for their history, till the end of the line.

With Sam's help, it wasn't too difficult tracking Buck back to Kiev, and from there Steve could guess where he was going. The old Hydra facilities where they gave him his cybernetic arm and wiped his memories has been long defunct, a hollowed-out shell of former greatness, but they still housed information. Steve wanted to know what they did to Bucky, surely Buck would be wondering the same thing.

He's got his uniform on under nondescript civvies, but it's kind of hard to get his shield to blend in. He doesn't look all that different than he did on the bridge, but if he finds Bucky here he hopes that's not the first thing he's reminded of. He steps over tipped filing cabinets and loose wires, footfalls quiet and precise. There's no guarantee he'll find Bucky in here, but if he doesn't it's going to take weeks to figure out what his next move would be. Steve's hanging on hope when he rounds a corner, and discovers a dust-covered chair straight out of a horror movie, leather straps decaying from time and neglect, but metal clamps still imposing. He steps inside the room, eyeing the machine with dull horror.

At first, he doesn't even see the shadow in the corner.

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[bondorblood]

The soft sound of footsteps echoes against the hardwood floor in the middle of the night. A constant thump, ticking away at the darkness like a metronome. The rest of the apartment was fairly silent, as to be expected when it had just slipped past 3AM. He didn't wander the entire place, just through the living room, winding around the table a few times, up the hall and then back. He isn't especially loud, either, but not the trained silent steps of a killer. He's just pacing, he's been pacing for maybe a half hour at this point. Around the apartment like a caged animal.

There might have been more space at the tower but Bucky is still recovering, still learning. He's been "back" for a few days now; though most of it he's spent avoiding Steve. Standing just out of sight, watching him. Every night so far he paces. Occasionally those footsteps will stop right outside the door to Steve's room, but he never says anything, never even knocks. Just silently waits for a few minutes before beginning to pace again. Like he'd been startled out of his own thoughts and resumed the pattern.

Maybe he wasn't ready for this yet.

[stark_spangled]

Steve doesn't always get his solid eight hours anyway. His lifestyle keeps him away from anything resembling a routine, and sometimes there are dreams at night so bad that he wakes up feeling more tired than when he laid down. The serum helps keep him going, so nobody really knows about this but him.

Except now there's someone else in his apartment. Someone who should feel familiar, be comforting, but they're just starting on a long hard road to putting their lives back together. Tony's a little much when you're trying to get your head on straight, the Tower's a little too busy, but this... Steve doesn't want to push him. Bucky's been keeping his distance, hanging around the edges, watching. Steve's patient, and willing to give him all the space he needs. But he's usually awake when Bucky's footsteps stop outside his door, and on the nights when he isn't it jolts him out of sleep soon enough. He lays perfectly still and watches the shadow that slips under the crack, holding his breath, waiting and wondering if Bucky wants to talk, wants to come in and sleep beside him, or if he wants to finish his mission.

The footsteps move on, and Steve doesn't sleep for hours.

Tonight, for some reason, it's different. He's memorized the pattern, knowing just when the footfalls will stop in which room, how long he'll linger outside his door, where he'll turn when he's through. Steve pushes the covers back and gets out of bed, slips a t-shirt on, and leaves his room. He moves silently down the hall to the living room, shoulders tense just in case. He doesn't want to startle Bucky, so he makes sure not to avoid the loose flooring just outside the kitchen. It creaks, and Steve reaches over to turn on the light.

"You want some coffee?" he asks, like all of this is normal. "Since neither one of us is sleeping."