The pain in Steve’s body was nothing to the horror of finally understanding Bucky’s flight from the tower. The lack of sexual advances, the apology, identifying himself to JARVIS as the Winter Soldier… it all made sense.
It was all Steve’s fault.
Steve drew in a ragged breath and swallowed against his rising gorge.
Oh, fuck, Bucky. I’m a terrible Steve.
“No,” he choked out, breath fogging in the cold of the meat truck. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant… I… No, Bucky. No.”
The Winter Soldier shrank back with an almost imperceptible flinch at Steve’s raised voice.
“But you said...You asked the Widow. If you were real...or if you were like me. That means… I’m not. You promised we were real. You lied. I can’t trust you.”
“We are!” Desperate for Bucky to listen, but without any real intention to escape, Steve twisted his wrists in the cuffs and strained on tiptoes to lean closer. “You’re Bucky Barnes. My best friend and the person I love most in the whole goddamn world.”
Bucky looked away. “No, I’m not. I can’t be. Steve Rogers couldn’t have used the real Bucky the way you used me. He didn’t even want Bucky, not really. They were both too stubborn and too afraid to be together.”
Seizing on that, Steve argued, “You wouldn’t even know that if you weren’t the real Bucky. We never told anyone we could have loved each other like that. We did love each other. We promised to never act on it. I broke that promise. I’m sor--.”
When Bucky looked back at him, his eyes were wet, a glimmer in the dark trailer. “You’re wrong. That only proves HYDRA taught us the same lessons. The files I’ve found were all meant to support Barnes Protocols. They had to be. You were right before. Not real. We can’t be real. Steve would have saved Bucky from HYDRA again. Or--or given him what he needed as his asset.”
“I was doubting myself, not you, and I was wrong! Of course I didn’t want to treat you like HYDRA. It was abuse! We’ve had this conversation!” His head was spinning again. He didn’t think it was due to blood loss. Fuck, he hated feeling helpless.
Fists balled and arm whirring. Bucky shouted, “It was my life, Steve! It is my life. Am I yours or not? Why can’t I please you?”
“You called me Steve,” Steve blurted.
“What the fuck else am I supposed to call you? Answer the goddamn question.” Bucky snarled.
“I… Buck. It’s not right. I don’t own you. I never did.”
There was an echoing thump as Bucky’s knees hit the floor of the trailer. “You could,” he whispered. “Everything would make sense again.”
“God, Bucky,” Steve breathed. He couldn’t even…
“Please, Steve.” said Bucky, shuffling forward. “Please. Don’t you want me?” A warm hand settled on Steve’s right thigh, searing in a completely different way than the pulse of pain though his other leg.
Steve jerked away. “Buck, stop. Not like this.”
Slowly, Bucky moved closer, pressing his shoulder and the side of his face into Steve’s legs.
“Bucky…”
Something was wrong. Movement outside.
Bucky’s head whipped around and he scrambled to his feet.
“Buck, wait!” Steve called, but it was too late. Bucky was gone again.
Steve let the tears fall to patter against the frost below.
“I did warn you,” said Natasha, examining the dressing on his bullet wound. “And you left your shield with your bike.”
Steve grit his teeth. “I didn’t feel like carrying it.”
She sat back and regarded him. “Steve.”
“Natasha.”
“It was a stupid risk,” she said finally.
Shaking his head, Steve turned away. “I had to give him his shot. He didn’t take it.” Not really, anyway, not the way Steve meant. This was a flesh wound, half-healed already.
“And now what?”
He fingered the shred of paper he’d found in the toe of his right boot. “I give him another shot.”
“He could kill you, Steve.”
Steve shook his head again. “He hasn’t yet.”
43Q BA 71960 96431. A promise.
When Steve woke up, he wished he didn’t know where he was.
“Stevie.”
It was Bucky’s voice. It was Bucky. It had to be. That, or HYDRA had finally broken Steve and all the time since that mission was a dream he’d conjured to escape reality.
“Bucky?” Steve coughed. He licked his dry lips and found them dusted with a slightly sour powder. He’d been drugged. Of course he’d been drugged. Had everything after this place been in Steve’s head? Was this the asset?
No. The past few weeks came back to him. He’d come to meet Bucky and...
“Do you know where you are?”
“HYDRA safehouse in Navi Mumbai,” he croaked. He couldn’t see Bucky. He couldn’t move at all. He’d been restrained to the bed with bonds meant to hold a Winter Soldier. He shouldn’t even be surprised.
“You ever have me here?” The question was mild, expressing only light curiosity, like the answer didn’t really matter.
It mattered. Oh, how it mattered.
“Once.”
“Tell me.”
“It was pretty early. Only us, Rumlow, and Rollins. No one suggested the restraints. Rumlow said I should fuck you but I jerked you off instead.” You smiled at me, after. I am so so sorry.
“I don’t remember.”
Steve squeezed his eyes shut. “I remember everything.”
The mattress dipped as Bucky sat. “Tell me?”
“I always loved you,” Steve began. “Do you remember how we met, Buck?”
“We met on a STRIKE mission.”
“Did we? How did we meet before?”
“When we were real? I… We were kids? I stepped into a fight you were losing.”
“I almost took a swing at you,” Steve offered, testing. “And we are real.”
“You did take a swing at me,” Bucky corrected. “Never needed anyone to step in for you.”
“Not true. I always needed you.”
The silence stretched.
Steve opened his eyes again. “Buck.”
“What about when I needed you, Stevie?”
“You deserve better. I’m sorry.”
Bucky said nothing.
“I don’t know what to say, Buck,” Steve confessed, mouth dry.
“Yeah? Well, I don’t even know who we are.”
The door slammed.
Steve was alone with his growing headache, serious dehydration, the enormous gang-rape bondage bed, and his toxic thoughts.
By the time Natasha arrived to free him, he still hadn’t tested the restraints.
Fill 107/110: Undeniable Plausibility - On to the aftermath!
The pain in Steve’s body was nothing to the horror of finally understanding Bucky’s flight from the tower. The lack of sexual advances, the apology, identifying himself to JARVIS as the Winter Soldier… it all made sense.
It was all Steve’s fault.
Steve drew in a ragged breath and swallowed against his rising gorge.
Oh, fuck, Bucky. I’m a terrible Steve.
“No,” he choked out, breath fogging in the cold of the meat truck. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant… I… No, Bucky. No.”
The Winter Soldier shrank back with an almost imperceptible flinch at Steve’s raised voice.
“But you said...You asked the Widow. If you were real...or if you were like me. That means… I’m not. You promised we were real. You lied. I can’t trust you.”
“We are!” Desperate for Bucky to listen, but without any real intention to escape, Steve twisted his wrists in the cuffs and strained on tiptoes to lean closer. “You’re Bucky Barnes. My best friend and the person I love most in the whole goddamn world.”
Bucky looked away. “No, I’m not. I can’t be. Steve Rogers couldn’t have used the real Bucky the way you used me. He didn’t even want Bucky, not really. They were both too stubborn and too afraid to be together.”
Seizing on that, Steve argued, “You wouldn’t even know that if you weren’t the real Bucky. We never told anyone we could have loved each other like that. We did love each other. We promised to never act on it. I broke that promise. I’m sor--.”
When Bucky looked back at him, his eyes were wet, a glimmer in the dark trailer. “You’re wrong. That only proves HYDRA taught us the same lessons. The files I’ve found were all meant to support Barnes Protocols. They had to be. You were right before. Not real. We can’t be real. Steve would have saved Bucky from HYDRA again. Or--or given him what he needed as his asset.”
“I was doubting myself, not you, and I was wrong! Of course I didn’t want to treat you like HYDRA. It was abuse! We’ve had this conversation!” His head was spinning again. He didn’t think it was due to blood loss. Fuck, he hated feeling helpless.
Fists balled and arm whirring. Bucky shouted, “It was my life, Steve! It is my life. Am I yours or not? Why can’t I please you?”
“You called me Steve,” Steve blurted.
“What the fuck else am I supposed to call you? Answer the goddamn question.” Bucky snarled.
“I… Buck. It’s not right. I don’t own you. I never did.”
There was an echoing thump as Bucky’s knees hit the floor of the trailer. “You could,” he whispered. “Everything would make sense again.”
“God, Bucky,” Steve breathed. He couldn’t even…
“Please, Steve.” said Bucky, shuffling forward. “Please. Don’t you want me?” A warm hand settled on Steve’s right thigh, searing in a completely different way than the pulse of pain though his other leg.
Steve jerked away. “Buck, stop. Not like this.”
Slowly, Bucky moved closer, pressing his shoulder and the side of his face into Steve’s legs.
“Bucky…”
Something was wrong. Movement outside.
Bucky’s head whipped around and he scrambled to his feet.
“Buck, wait!” Steve called, but it was too late. Bucky was gone again.
Steve let the tears fall to patter against the frost below.
“I did warn you,” said Natasha, examining the dressing on his bullet wound. “And you left your shield with your bike.”
Steve grit his teeth. “I didn’t feel like carrying it.”
She sat back and regarded him. “Steve.”
“Natasha.”
“It was a stupid risk,” she said finally.
Shaking his head, Steve turned away. “I had to give him his shot. He didn’t take it.” Not really, anyway, not the way Steve meant. This was a flesh wound, half-healed already.
“And now what?”
He fingered the shred of paper he’d found in the toe of his right boot. “I give him another shot.”
“He could kill you, Steve.”
Steve shook his head again. “He hasn’t yet.”
43Q BA 71960 96431. A promise.
When Steve woke up, he wished he didn’t know where he was.
“Stevie.”
It was Bucky’s voice. It was Bucky. It had to be. That, or HYDRA had finally broken Steve and all the time since that mission was a dream he’d conjured to escape reality.
“Bucky?” Steve coughed. He licked his dry lips and found them dusted with a slightly sour powder. He’d been drugged. Of course he’d been drugged. Had everything after this place been in Steve’s head? Was this the asset?
No. The past few weeks came back to him. He’d come to meet Bucky and...
“Do you know where you are?”
“HYDRA safehouse in Navi Mumbai,” he croaked. He couldn’t see Bucky. He couldn’t move at all. He’d been restrained to the bed with bonds meant to hold a Winter Soldier. He shouldn’t even be surprised.
“You ever have me here?” The question was mild, expressing only light curiosity, like the answer didn’t really matter.
It mattered. Oh, how it mattered.
“Once.”
“Tell me.”
“It was pretty early. Only us, Rumlow, and Rollins. No one suggested the restraints. Rumlow said I should fuck you but I jerked you off instead.” You smiled at me, after. I am so so sorry.
“I don’t remember.”
Steve squeezed his eyes shut. “I remember everything.”
The mattress dipped as Bucky sat. “Tell me?”
“I always loved you,” Steve began. “Do you remember how we met, Buck?”
“We met on a STRIKE mission.”
“Did we? How did we meet before?”
“When we were real? I… We were kids? I stepped into a fight you were losing.”
“I almost took a swing at you,” Steve offered, testing. “And we are real.”
“You did take a swing at me,” Bucky corrected. “Never needed anyone to step in for you.”
“Not true. I always needed you.”
The silence stretched.
Steve opened his eyes again. “Buck.”
“What about when I needed you, Stevie?”
“You deserve better. I’m sorry.”
Bucky said nothing.
“I don’t know what to say, Buck,” Steve confessed, mouth dry.
“Yeah? Well, I don’t even know who we are.”
The door slammed.
Steve was alone with his growing headache, serious dehydration, the enormous gang-rape bondage bed, and his toxic thoughts.
By the time Natasha arrived to free him, he still hadn’t tested the restraints.