****Sorry for the long wait! I went back and forth a lot on how I wanted to do this.*****
Steve shouldn't have been surprised by Bucky's capacity to argue now. He remembered what the asset was like with even a little freedom to speak up. Most of their arguments had been about Steve's unwillingness to have sex, so he shouldn't have been surprised by the topic either.
Historians thought Steve was the stubborn one. He was, but there was a reason he and Bucky had been such fast friends. Bucky had always given as good as he got and often better.
"I was no different from Rumlow, even if I tried not to hurt you physically. What we did to you was abuse," Steve insisted.
“It is different. You’re sorry.”
“Lots of abusers say they’re sorry. Doesn’t mean they won’t do it again.”
“You really think you could?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. I did it. I’m capable.”
Bucky started to scoff, but then the stubborn glint in his eyes was replaced by desperation. “But… it was different with you. You told me you wanted me. You told me you love me.”
“Bucky, I raped you.”
“So you lied? You never wanted me? I remember wanting you. Pleasing you is the best part of being your asset.”
The present tense made Steve wince. Bucky hadn't chosen a scenario in which he didn't think of himself as the asset.
“I've always wanted you. It felt good to be with you like that, but it was wrong of me. Doesn't give me any right to take advantage of you like I did. Bucky. I raped you. I abused you. I’m never touching you again.”
A huff of warm breath against his shoulder told Steve what Bucky thought of that claim. He shifted away from his bedmate.
“Steve," Bucky said, "Even if you did hurt me, it's not like either of us had a choice. I drugged you to get you through your initiation."
"I know," Steve told him. The asset had removed its mask to get a lungful of the purple gas too. What Bucky thought he wanted wasn't in question. He couldn't give informed consent. He remembered some missions with Steve and some things from their childhood, but he still saw the latter as proof that he and Steve had been created by the same program. As Clint and Natasha had warned him, Bucky clung to what he had been taught to believe and rationalized any proof to the contrary until it somehow supported HYDRA's lies.
"Supersoldiers who don't comply get sent back to Siberia."
Knowing why it was happening didn't make it any easier for Steve to hear.
"We're safe now. That's never going to happen to either of us," Steve said firmly. I'm not a Winter Soldier. Bucky's just generalizing because he is a Winter Soldier and that's how he understands the world.
The second time both Natasha and Clint sat with him for a meeting with the deprogrammer, Steve had voiced conviction that he ought to be on trial with the rest of the surviving STRIKE agents. He didn't deserve to be, well, whatever an Avenger was, because he wasn't a civilian and he wasn't military now. For a moment, he had sincerely believed that Natasha might be about to hit him. He would have taken that without protest, but the look on her face when he flinched was…
The deprogrammer simply made a note. When Steve's attention snapped to him, he'd only raised one hand and said to ignore him. Natasha and Clint were perfectly capable and he was only there for backup and because he was licensed to provide documentation that Steve was receiving treatment. He couldn't help an unwilling patient. He hadn't even given Steve a name, so Steve could rage against the process all he wanted without feeling bad about his behavior toward a person.
Good. Steve's thought was strangely vicious in its vehemence.
Natasha's mouth had twitched at the explanation. Steve was too sick and tired to think about the mindgames they were trying to use to engage him.
Later, Natasha cornered him in the elevator.
"Steve," she said, studying his face intently. "What was that?"
Steve could only shake his head.
"Did they…" Her expression was carefully neutral. "Did they do something to you that I don't know about?"
Something you didn't tell me about, Steve interpreted and his back went up whether he meant it to or not. "I reported everything relevant," he said. Bucky had been the one abused, by Steve as well as HYDRA, so Steve had no right to be reacting this way.
A terrible thought crossed his mind. What if Rumlow was right and supersoldiers did need order? He felt more lost now than he had with HYDRA. He had been anxious, sad, and angry, and the guilt and horror never faded, but he hadn't been afraid of other people like this until after their escape.
There had been some bad moments with HYDRA when Steve had honestly started to wonder about himself, but HYDRA had been full of lies. Steve knew that. Why couldn't he get it out of his head now?
Natasha was terrifying, but that wasn't because she'd been Steve's SHIELD handler. He'd been a good asset for them and done what he was supposed to. HYDRA was crippled because of what Steve had learned undercover and Natasha had never hurt him. Handler/asset relationships weren't supposed to be like what happened in the Winter Soldier Program, Steve knew that too. He had no reason to fear Natasha. The hell was wrong with him?
It was much much worse to be in Bucky's position. There was no question and no comparison. All the same, he wished he had someone he would trust without question.
Whatever was showing on his face, he could see Natasha's expression turning sympathetic.
"Steve," she began.
Steve interrupted, blurting, "Natasha, I'm really me, right? I mean, really me, not the way Bucky is Bucky."
She looked him over with what appeared to be real concern. "That's still bothering you?"
That hadn't been the response Steve was hoping for.
"Your floor, Agent Romanoff," Tony's AI announced and Steve abruptly froze. Forgetting about JARVIS and the knowledge that the tower was under constant surveillance did nothing to ease his paranoia. He and Bucky had almost never not been under surveillance and sooner or later that fact would come back to bite him. So far, no evidence of Steve's time with HYDRA had leaked to the public, but that was only a matter of time.
Steve deserved for the truth to come out.
Unfortunately, Steve wouldn’t be the only one affected if it did.
Natasha didn’t get out of the elevator.
“You’re you, Steve. I swear to you. Phil Coulson watched you be defrosted. You’re the same man we found in the ice.”
Letting out the shaky breath he'd been holding, Steve nodded and tried to make his shoulders relax. It didn't work very well. The muscles were so tight they hurt. “Thanks, Natasha.”
She drew him into a quick hug, but was out of the elevator and gone before Steve lost any more composure. He wished he felt comforted.
SHIELD hadn't found Steve, was the problem. The man in the ice who now identified himself as Steve Rogers could have been replaced long before SHIELD took custody of his frozen body. Besides, SHIELD was compromised by HYDRA at all levels.
Why am I even thinking about this again?
His throat felt thick. He swallowed.
It didn’t matter who he was. He’d been one of Bucky’s abusers. There could never be any excuse or absolution.
Bucky had his own appointments. Steve wasn't allowed to attend most of them in case he influenced Bucky. He didn't know what Bucky said or did in them either. Captain America couldn't take on any missions until Steve Rogers got his head on straight.
At this rate, I might as well retire for real.
Imagining that future was painful. He imagined living in the fancy prison of Avengers Tower, trying to share a bed with Bucky as platonically as possible, until the night Bucky finally understood Steve's betrayal and killed him.
That wasn't what Bucky deserved. Steve resigned himself to at least going through the motions.
"Please don't ask tonight," Steve mumbled, falling face-first into their bed with a heavy sigh. Silence answered him and he immediately felt bad for the order. He rolled over and rubbed hard at his face with both hands. "Shit, Buck. I'm sorry I'm such a mess. I'm not mad at you. Just... anything but sex."
More silence.
Concerned, Steve lowered his hands and looked for Bucky.
Bucky was standing next to the bed, studying the carpet.
"Bucky?"
"You used to enjoy cuddling with me."
The words were completely flat with no chance of being mistaken for a question.
God, cuddling sounded nice. He missed that. Cuddling wasn't like kissing. It didn't have to imply anything else was on the table. Steve didn't deserve the comfort of Bucky's body close to his, but Bucky did. They usually ended up in a more intimate position by morning anyway. The last thing Steve wanted to do was deprive Bucky of touch. The asset had always been starving for it. Was it weak of Steve to give in?
"I still like that," Steve said. " But only that, got it?" He waited for Bucky's nod of confirmation. "C'mere, Buck."
He was entirely too pliant in Steve's arms, but he seemed content enough.
Each time Steve bit back the urge to praise the asset, the scream built silently in his head until he realized he was crying.
"Stevie?" Bucky sat up and put his arms around Steve instead.
Steve cried harder, curling into Bucky's broad chest and hating himself for accepting the undeserved comfort. "I'm so sorry, Buck. I wish..." But wishing had never gotten anyone anywhere by itself. "I love you. I don't deserve you, but I love you. I'm so fucking sorry." A fresh wave of sobs shook him apart in Bucky's embrace. "I don't expect you to ever forgive me, but I'm so glad you're still here with me."
"Yeah, punk," Bucky mumbled against his hair, stroking his side, "'m sorry too."
Fill 103/110: Undeniable Plausibility - On to the aftermath!
****Sorry for the long wait! I went back and forth a lot on how I wanted to do this.*****
Steve shouldn't have been surprised by Bucky's capacity to argue now. He remembered what the asset was like with even a little freedom to speak up. Most of their arguments had been about Steve's unwillingness to have sex, so he shouldn't have been surprised by the topic either.
Historians thought Steve was the stubborn one. He was, but there was a reason he and Bucky had been such fast friends. Bucky had always given as good as he got and often better.
"I was no different from Rumlow, even if I tried not to hurt you physically. What we did to you was abuse," Steve insisted.
“It is different. You’re sorry.”
“Lots of abusers say they’re sorry. Doesn’t mean they won’t do it again.”
“You really think you could?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. I did it. I’m capable.”
Bucky started to scoff, but then the stubborn glint in his eyes was replaced by desperation. “But… it was different with you. You told me you wanted me. You told me you love me.”
“Bucky, I raped you.”
“So you lied? You never wanted me? I remember wanting you. Pleasing you is the best part of being your asset.”
The present tense made Steve wince. Bucky hadn't chosen a scenario in which he didn't think of himself as the asset.
“I've always wanted you. It felt good to be with you like that, but it was wrong of me. Doesn't give me any right to take advantage of you like I did. Bucky. I raped you. I abused you. I’m never touching you again.”
A huff of warm breath against his shoulder told Steve what Bucky thought of that claim. He shifted away from his bedmate.
“Steve," Bucky said, "Even if you did hurt me, it's not like either of us had a choice. I drugged you to get you through your initiation."
"I know," Steve told him. The asset had removed its mask to get a lungful of the purple gas too. What Bucky thought he wanted wasn't in question. He couldn't give informed consent. He remembered some missions with Steve and some things from their childhood, but he still saw the latter as proof that he and Steve had been created by the same program. As Clint and Natasha had warned him, Bucky clung to what he had been taught to believe and rationalized any proof to the contrary until it somehow supported HYDRA's lies.
"Supersoldiers who don't comply get sent back to Siberia."
Knowing why it was happening didn't make it any easier for Steve to hear.
"We're safe now. That's never going to happen to either of us," Steve said firmly. I'm not a Winter Soldier. Bucky's just generalizing because he is a Winter Soldier and that's how he understands the world.
The second time both Natasha and Clint sat with him for a meeting with the deprogrammer, Steve had voiced conviction that he ought to be on trial with the rest of the surviving STRIKE agents. He didn't deserve to be, well, whatever an Avenger was, because he wasn't a civilian and he wasn't military now. For a moment, he had sincerely believed that Natasha might be about to hit him. He would have taken that without protest, but the look on her face when he flinched was…
The deprogrammer simply made a note. When Steve's attention snapped to him, he'd only raised one hand and said to ignore him. Natasha and Clint were perfectly capable and he was only there for backup and because he was licensed to provide documentation that Steve was receiving treatment. He couldn't help an unwilling patient. He hadn't even given Steve a name, so Steve could rage against the process all he wanted without feeling bad about his behavior toward a person.
Good. Steve's thought was strangely vicious in its vehemence.
Natasha's mouth had twitched at the explanation. Steve was too sick and tired to think about the mindgames they were trying to use to engage him.
Later, Natasha cornered him in the elevator.
"Steve," she said, studying his face intently. "What was that?"
Steve could only shake his head.
"Did they…" Her expression was carefully neutral. "Did they do something to you that I don't know about?"
Something you didn't tell me about, Steve interpreted and his back went up whether he meant it to or not. "I reported everything relevant," he said. Bucky had been the one abused, by Steve as well as HYDRA, so Steve had no right to be reacting this way.
A terrible thought crossed his mind. What if Rumlow was right and supersoldiers did need order? He felt more lost now than he had with HYDRA. He had been anxious, sad, and angry, and the guilt and horror never faded, but he hadn't been afraid of other people like this until after their escape.
There had been some bad moments with HYDRA when Steve had honestly started to wonder about himself, but HYDRA had been full of lies. Steve knew that. Why couldn't he get it out of his head now?
Natasha was terrifying, but that wasn't because she'd been Steve's SHIELD handler. He'd been a good asset for them and done what he was supposed to. HYDRA was crippled because of what Steve had learned undercover and Natasha had never hurt him. Handler/asset relationships weren't supposed to be like what happened in the Winter Soldier Program, Steve knew that too. He had no reason to fear Natasha. The hell was wrong with him?
It was much much worse to be in Bucky's position. There was no question and no comparison. All the same, he wished he had someone he would trust without question.
Whatever was showing on his face, he could see Natasha's expression turning sympathetic.
"Steve," she began.
Steve interrupted, blurting, "Natasha, I'm really me, right? I mean, really me, not the way Bucky is Bucky."
She looked him over with what appeared to be real concern. "That's still bothering you?"
That hadn't been the response Steve was hoping for.
"Your floor, Agent Romanoff," Tony's AI announced and Steve abruptly froze. Forgetting about JARVIS and the knowledge that the tower was under constant surveillance did nothing to ease his paranoia. He and Bucky had almost never not been under surveillance and sooner or later that fact would come back to bite him. So far, no evidence of Steve's time with HYDRA had leaked to the public, but that was only a matter of time.
Steve deserved for the truth to come out.
Unfortunately, Steve wouldn’t be the only one affected if it did.
Natasha didn’t get out of the elevator.
“You’re you, Steve. I swear to you. Phil Coulson watched you be defrosted. You’re the same man we found in the ice.”
Letting out the shaky breath he'd been holding, Steve nodded and tried to make his shoulders relax. It didn't work very well. The muscles were so tight they hurt. “Thanks, Natasha.”
She drew him into a quick hug, but was out of the elevator and gone before Steve lost any more composure. He wished he felt comforted.
SHIELD hadn't found Steve, was the problem. The man in the ice who now identified himself as Steve Rogers could have been replaced long before SHIELD took custody of his frozen body. Besides, SHIELD was compromised by HYDRA at all levels.
Why am I even thinking about this again?
His throat felt thick. He swallowed.
It didn’t matter who he was. He’d been one of Bucky’s abusers. There could never be any excuse or absolution.
Bucky had his own appointments. Steve wasn't allowed to attend most of them in case he influenced Bucky. He didn't know what Bucky said or did in them either. Captain America couldn't take on any missions until Steve Rogers got his head on straight.
At this rate, I might as well retire for real.
Imagining that future was painful. He imagined living in the fancy prison of Avengers Tower, trying to share a bed with Bucky as platonically as possible, until the night Bucky finally understood Steve's betrayal and killed him.
That wasn't what Bucky deserved. Steve resigned himself to at least going through the motions.
"Please don't ask tonight," Steve mumbled, falling face-first into their bed with a heavy sigh. Silence answered him and he immediately felt bad for the order. He rolled over and rubbed hard at his face with both hands. "Shit, Buck. I'm sorry I'm such a mess. I'm not mad at you. Just... anything but sex."
More silence.
Concerned, Steve lowered his hands and looked for Bucky.
Bucky was standing next to the bed, studying the carpet.
"Bucky?"
"You used to enjoy cuddling with me."
The words were completely flat with no chance of being mistaken for a question.
God, cuddling sounded nice. He missed that. Cuddling wasn't like kissing. It didn't have to imply anything else was on the table. Steve didn't deserve the comfort of Bucky's body close to his, but Bucky did. They usually ended up in a more intimate position by morning anyway. The last thing Steve wanted to do was deprive Bucky of touch. The asset had always been starving for it. Was it weak of Steve to give in?
"I still like that," Steve said. " But only that, got it?" He waited for Bucky's nod of confirmation. "C'mere, Buck."
He was entirely too pliant in Steve's arms, but he seemed content enough.
Each time Steve bit back the urge to praise the asset, the scream built silently in his head until he realized he was crying.
"Stevie?" Bucky sat up and put his arms around Steve instead.
Steve cried harder, curling into Bucky's broad chest and hating himself for accepting the undeserved comfort. "I'm so sorry, Buck. I wish..." But wishing had never gotten anyone anywhere by itself. "I love you. I don't deserve you, but I love you. I'm so fucking sorry." A fresh wave of sobs shook him apart in Bucky's embrace. "I don't expect you to ever forgive me, but I'm so glad you're still here with me."
"Yeah, punk," Bucky mumbled against his hair, stroking his side, "'m sorry too."
When Steve woke up, Bucky wasn't in bed with him.