There was a moment of silence, and Bucky thought Steve was going to say no. All kinds of emotions and thoughts were making their way across his face in a confused jumble, but after a few seconds had passed Steve nodded, swallowing and setting his jaw.
It was an expression Bucky recognised from when they were children. This was Steve's face for when he was squaring up to a fight with someone far stronger and more powerful than he was, knowing he would be hurt but not willing to back down. It was an odd expression for sitting together, cuddled up on the couch. "You tell me whatever you need to Bucky. If you'll sleep better after talking about it, that's okay. Tell me whatever helps..." And as he said that, Steve's hands rubbed at Bucky's shoulders, taking away some of the stress. That felt nice. He closed his eyes and relaxed at the touch, wondering if maybe this wasn't so bad. He could tell him everything and if Steve still wasn't angry or disgusted, he could tell him the truth.
He took a deep breath. "They..." He swallowed, trying to work out which of his memories he needed to discuss. He wouldn't talk about what happened to Natasha - that would be wrong. It wasn't his place to discuss it. Natasha had always been given respect. But what happened to him, well, that was why he was here. "They never saw her as a person. She was just a thing, there, for them to use. A warm body I guess... they laughed, called her all sorts of names..." He bit back the words that had been used. The hissed mutters that he was just a hole, just a toy, that he was worthless, that this was what he was made for.
"That wasn't right Bucky." Steve said softly, and his hands were still rubbing Bucky's shoulders. Bucky closed his eyes. "She didn't deserve that." "Yeah..." Bucky swallowed, dryly. "Just... if they got bored, they'd hurt her. If we were...if we were in a truck, for a long journey..." He thought of a few months ago, when the strike team had been heading out west for a mission. "They'd have her strip. They'd probably start by touching her, but then they'd... it'd get more. They'd use her mouth...or.. or you know, the rest of her..." He swallowed again, and Steve's grip around his shoulder was firmer now, grounding him, keeping him away from that truck, from those nightmares. "They used to just chat while they were doing it. Like, about sports and stuff. She was just...just there..." He risked a glance at Steve.
Steve's expression had gone past preparing for a punch now. He looked like he had been hit, his eyes dark, but he caught Bucky looking and he smiled. "That wasn't her fault... God..." He whistled through his teeth. "I had no idea. She does a good job of hiding it. She's an amazing woman, I always knew that..."
Bucky frowned. Natasha was amazing, but he wasn't. He'd let it happen, let them use him. "I saw..." "And Buck, that wasn't your fault either. You didn't choose to be there."
He thought of the other men in the truck, Rollins snorting when Rumlow had him strip, muttering about the fact that the asset might make a mess. He could hear Rumlow calling back, promising that it wouldn't be allowed, and then Rollins calling him over once Rumlow was finished. It wasn't like Rollins had set out to hurt him. He'd just been there when it had started. That was true of so many of them. Normally it'd only be one or two who really went for it, and the others would use him because he was already there. He shuddered.
"She used to cry." He spat, remembering the heat of tears running down his face. "Used to sob and whine and it was...it was disgusting. They'd kick her for it, yell at her, call her pathetic..." He was trembling now, rocking slightly in Steve's grasp. Steve held him close.
"Bucky, she was hurting. It wasn't her fault. I know it must have been scary to see, especially when you cared about her, but she couldn't help it. It wasn't her fault that she was crying, you understand that right? I’ve cried before when I get injured on missions, and that’s just physical pain, that’s not fear as well.”
Bucky nodded, feeling his eyelids prickling again. He refused to cry now, to start to sob when he wasn't even injured. Steve looked almost angry with him, but he was still touching him gently so he couldn't have been that angry.
"It...I didn't like it." "I know." Steve said softly. "I know..." And the way he said it, Bucky thought he was trying to end the conversation. But there was worse. Worse that he had to go over.
"The...The...Polkovnik, he used to really hurt her. For hours, or days, he'd have her chained up, cut her, and as he got older he hurt her worse and she'd be such a mess and I..." He thought of his own body hanging from the wall in Pierce's basement, close to collapse, his toes just about able to reach the floor, legs streaked with his own blood. He had screamed himself hoarse long ago. "She never fought back. And I never saved her."
"She ... you couldn't have done anything Bucky. Neither of you could have." Steve promised. Bucky thought of Rumlow, walking in, laughing with Pierce about the state of him. Remembered Pierce pointing at him and telling Rumlow to take a turn. Then he'd walked over and the pain had got worse. Rumlow had just been following orders.
"Buck..." Steve's voice sounded anguished. "None of it was your fault..." He guided Bucky into his arms. Bucky wasn't sure when he had started crying. He wasn't sure when he'd be able to stop.
Fill: Giving the Blame (4/?)
It was an expression Bucky recognised from when they were children. This was Steve's face for when he was squaring up to a fight with someone far stronger and more powerful than he was, knowing he would be hurt but not willing to back down. It was an odd expression for sitting together, cuddled up on the couch.
"You tell me whatever you need to Bucky. If you'll sleep better after talking about it, that's okay. Tell me whatever helps..." And as he said that, Steve's hands rubbed at Bucky's shoulders, taking away some of the stress. That felt nice. He closed his eyes and relaxed at the touch, wondering if maybe this wasn't so bad. He could tell him everything and if Steve still wasn't angry or disgusted, he could tell him the truth.
He took a deep breath.
"They..." He swallowed, trying to work out which of his memories he needed to discuss. He wouldn't talk about what happened to Natasha - that would be wrong. It wasn't his place to discuss it. Natasha had always been given respect. But what happened to him, well, that was why he was here. "They never saw her as a person. She was just a thing, there, for them to use. A warm body I guess... they laughed, called her all sorts of names..." He bit back the words that had been used. The hissed mutters that he was just a hole, just a toy, that he was worthless, that this was what he was made for.
"That wasn't right Bucky." Steve said softly, and his hands were still rubbing Bucky's shoulders. Bucky closed his eyes. "She didn't deserve that."
"Yeah..." Bucky swallowed, dryly. "Just... if they got bored, they'd hurt her. If we were...if we were in a truck, for a long journey..." He thought of a few months ago, when the strike team had been heading out west for a mission. "They'd have her strip. They'd probably start by touching her, but then they'd... it'd get more. They'd use her mouth...or.. or you know, the rest of her..." He swallowed again, and Steve's grip around his shoulder was firmer now, grounding him, keeping him away from that truck, from those nightmares. "They used to just chat while they were doing it. Like, about sports and stuff. She was just...just there..." He risked a glance at Steve.
Steve's expression had gone past preparing for a punch now. He looked like he had been hit, his eyes dark, but he caught Bucky looking and he smiled.
"That wasn't her fault... God..." He whistled through his teeth. "I had no idea. She does a good job of hiding it. She's an amazing woman, I always knew that..."
Bucky frowned. Natasha was amazing, but he wasn't. He'd let it happen, let them use him.
"I saw..."
"And Buck, that wasn't your fault either. You didn't choose to be there."
He thought of the other men in the truck, Rollins snorting when Rumlow had him strip, muttering about the fact that the asset might make a mess. He could hear Rumlow calling back, promising that it wouldn't be allowed, and then Rollins calling him over once Rumlow was finished. It wasn't like Rollins had set out to hurt him. He'd just been there when it had started. That was true of so many of them. Normally it'd only be one or two who really went for it, and the others would use him because he was already there. He shuddered.
"She used to cry." He spat, remembering the heat of tears running down his face. "Used to sob and whine and it was...it was disgusting. They'd kick her for it, yell at her, call her pathetic..." He was trembling now, rocking slightly in Steve's grasp. Steve held him close.
"Bucky, she was hurting. It wasn't her fault. I know it must have been scary to see, especially when you cared about her, but she couldn't help it. It wasn't her fault that she was crying, you understand that right? I’ve cried before when I get injured on missions, and that’s just physical pain, that’s not fear as well.”
Bucky nodded, feeling his eyelids prickling again. He refused to cry now, to start to sob when he wasn't even injured. Steve looked almost angry with him, but he was still touching him gently so he couldn't have been that angry.
"It...I didn't like it."
"I know." Steve said softly. "I know..." And the way he said it, Bucky thought he was trying to end the conversation. But there was worse. Worse that he had to go over.
"The...The...Polkovnik, he used to really hurt her. For hours, or days, he'd have her chained up, cut her, and as he got older he hurt her worse and she'd be such a mess and I..." He thought of his own body hanging from the wall in Pierce's basement, close to collapse, his toes just about able to reach the floor, legs streaked with his own blood. He had screamed himself hoarse long ago. "She never fought back. And I never saved her."
"She ... you couldn't have done anything Bucky. Neither of you could have." Steve promised. Bucky thought of Rumlow, walking in, laughing with Pierce about the state of him. Remembered Pierce pointing at him and telling Rumlow to take a turn. Then he'd walked over and the pain had got worse. Rumlow had just been following orders.
"Buck..." Steve's voice sounded anguished. "None of it was your fault..." He guided Bucky into his arms. Bucky wasn't sure when he had started crying. He wasn't sure when he'd be able to stop.