Spam for littleguyfrombrooklyn

[endsinafight]

Bucky'd been fidgety throughout the debriefing with Fury, even if he hadn't moved a muscle as he listened to the mission -- another HYDRA target, smaller, on a remote island in the Pacific. Not the usual setup, which made him uneasy from the get-go. But there was something else, something nagging at him, something in Fury's tone that told him there was more to this mission than he was willing to divulge. It wasn't a surprise. Fury might not be HYDRA, but in some ways his methods were so similar that it felt like being back there anyway. He definitely believed in the need to know principle, and obviously he didn't feel like they needed to know whatever it was he was holding back. His gaze darted to Steve, wondering if he'd picked up on it, too.

But if Steve had, his expression didn't betray his thoughts.

He pressed his lips together as they were dismissed, Fury addressing him as the others agents involved in the mission filtered out of the room. "Barnes. Hang back a minute."

And there it was, he thought, meeting Steve's eyes only briefly before lingering as Fury requested. One the door was shut again, the other man turned to study him.

"You have a different mission while they're disabling all of HYDRA's operating systems and containing the operatives."

Bucky studied him just as intently, his voice flat when he responded. "Who'm I eliminating?"

If Fury was surprised by his response, he gave nothing away. "Your target is Katya Belyakov."

"Who is she?" His voice was wary.

"You sure you wanna know the details, Barnes?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"If you're asking me to murder someone, yes," Bucky said, jaw tightening.

Fury regarded him for a long moment. "Essentially, she's the of the most dangerous people in the galaxy. Mind control abilities that she's utilized to force others to commit her dirty work. She's likely being accompanied by a former SHIELD operative who turned out to be moonlighting for HYDRA, Grant Ward. I'd prefer him to remain alive. He's got a lot to answer for."

Every muscle in Bucky's body tensed at the information about Belyakov, but also the name Grant Ward, his stomach turning in recognition.

"Ah. See you're familiar with him then."

"Unfortunately," Bucky responded stiffly, struggling to maintain his composure. "I'm assuming this isn't an optional mission." There was a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"You knew when you signed the dotted line that there's no such thing here, Barnes. Is there a problem? Or do I need to go over the fine print of your contract to refresh your memory?"

Fuck you, he thought. "No, Sir. Am I free to go?"

"You're dismissed."

--

An hour later, he was suited up in his tac gear, breathing steady and even despite the wild pounding of his heart as he boarded the quinjet with a team he didn't know or trust, and the only person on the earth he truly did.

Comments

[endsinafight]

He nodded, heading out of the waiting room and down the hall, in the opposite direction of the exits, picking up a random bouquet of flowers off a rolling tray that no one was watching, tipping his hat down farther and carrying the buds in front of his chest, hopefully blocking the blood from anyone's sight line as he walked.

Bucky peaked into a couple of rooms until he found one that was empty, ducking into it and setting the flowers down on the bathroom sink before he shut and locked the door. He undressed quickly and stepped under the shower head, turning the water on as hard as it would go and scrubbing his skin vigorously, washing his hair with the little bottle of shampoo in the caddie on the shower wall. He lucked into finding a shirt in the closet that someone had left behind, grimacing at the fact that it was too tight -- which was really more Steve's thing than his.

And it was a t-shirt so it didn't cover his left arm, which he hated. And sure, it wasn't the arm HYDRA had given him, but the one Shuri had, and it didn't have the white star on it, but it was still far too identifiable. It wasn't like there were many people walking around Brooklyn with a vibranium arm.

But it was neither here nor there. Right now all that truly mattered was Steve. He checked his phone, not seeing any messages from Sam, but realizing that Romanoff had texted him 18 times in the last few hours. He rubbed his hand over his face, telling her to contact Sam because he didn't want to talk to her or anyone else, really. He returned to the waiting room in under a half hour, replacing the flowers on the rolling cart on the way and dropping into the chair next to Sam once more.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Sam didn’t miss the fact that Bucky didn’t exactly go home.

“That shirt doesn’t fit you, dude,” he said, mildly judgmental. “Do you want me to run out and get you anything?”

Sam thought Bucky was probably being irrationally cautious in refusing to leave, but he had gotten the picture that it wasn’t going to be something Sam could talk him out of. He’d be an errand boy, if it helped out. The doctors said that Steve would definitely live, after all, and the serum could obviously do amazing things. And, he thought, keeping his face carefully straight and his eyes off Bucky’s gleaming metal arm, if he lost the hand, they could go back to Wakanda.

[endsinafight]

"No, but it's not covered in blood, either." He couldn't help but glance at the younger man sideways at the unexpected offer, then slowly shook his head. He wouldn't mind having clothes of his own to wear, but it wasn't really worth the trouble, either. "No." He paused, leaned back in the chair. "Thank you."

Bucky's gaze flickered around the room, taking in the sight of those who remained in the room, waiting on news about Steve's condition.

"No news then?" It was a struggle to keep the anxiety out of his voice.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

“Steve’s a bad influence,” Sam said teasingly. “Not that you don’t have the muscles for a muscle shirt, damn that serum does good work.”

He stopped trying to lighten the mood when Bucky asked him about Steve, palpable nerves in his voice.

“No,” Sam said. “Only things they said are things you already know. His life is in no danger—well, the doctors hemmed and hawed about full anesthesia always being a little dangerous, but not with Steve. They don’t yet know how much functionality is going to be left in his hand.”

He swallowed, but met Bucky’s eyes steadily, non-judgmental.

“They said if he was normal, they’d not be optimistic at all. He’s not normal, though. It makes it hard to judge. Apparently it’s making the surgery a little tricky, too. He’s healing too fast—and wrong.”

[endsinafight]

He grunted quietly at the teasing, not entirely sure what to think about the fact that Sam was treating him almost like a friend. It was strange to him, but not unpleasant, either. Under other circumstances he'd probably make an effort to tease him back.

Bucky met Sam's eyes momentarily and then looked down at his hands, chest feeling tight at the acknowledgment of surgery being tricky because of Steve's advanced healing. He took a few slow, deep breaths. He'd healed wrong a couple dozen times over the last 70 years, and it had never been a pleasant experience. Shuri had told him it was probably why he was always in low levels of pain, which made sense. He didn't want that for Steve, but it was better than dying.

"He'll get through it," he said quietly.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Sam nodded. “Yep, he will. He’s tough.”

He hesitated, glancing over at Bucky. “You’re tough, too. But I gotta ask. How are you doing?”

[endsinafight]

His shoulders hunched slightly more at the question, because if Sam was asking then it was all too obvious how not well he was doing, and that was a problem. Then again, he'd shot his best friend to save his life, so he figured that entitled him to have a shitty day. "Been better," he muttered.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

There was deep sympathy in Sam’s eyes.

“Yeah, I imagine. Shitty fucking day, sounds like,” he said. “Want to talk about it? And before you instantly say no and insult my excellent listening skills, consider that it might be nice to have someone hear about it who isn’t going to look at you with those big teary blue eyes or a beady black marble one.”

Fury obviously wasn’t a great listener, but Steve had his problems, as much as Sam loved him. He couldn’t turn his intensity off or down—not really for anyone, but especially not for Bucky.

“I want you to be okay because you’re a good guy and I like you, but it’s not going to break my heart if you’re feeling shitty,” Sam said, with a little shrug.

[endsinafight]

Bucky snorted, eyebrows rising almost involuntarily. "Anyone ever tell you that you got a way with words in addition to those excellent listening skills?" He glanced at him for a second, ghost of a smile on his lips. He thought if given half the chance, the two of them might actually hit it off as friends, even without Steve being the binding force between them. He'd checked into Sam's history before Steve had found him in Bucharest. Everything about him suggested he was truly one of the good guys, and he'd never witnessed or heard anything that contradicted that opinion.

The fact that Sam liked him, though. That was actual news to him and he glanced at him in surprise that he didn't bother trying to hide.

"I'm okay," he said after a moment. He was okay because he had to be. There was no other choice. "Just sick of being stuck between a rock and a hard place, you know?"

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

The one-two punch of that ghost of a smile and the obvious surprise that Sam said he liked Bucky went a long way to explaining why Steve hadn’t had any hesitation in throwing his world upside down for Bucky’s sake. He was a compelling guy, even if you didn’t know the enormous quantity of shit he’d been through. Sam was pretty level headed and even he was struck by it.

“Yeah,” he said, just a touch too breathless to be as lighthearted as he wanted to be, but he worked it out soon. “I’m good at all sorts of things. Excellent at them, even. Words, listening, paella.”

He hesitated a moment. “It was my understanding that you should be feeling free of the hard places, nowadays. What am I missing?”

[endsinafight]

The corner of his mouth quirked up once more at the humor. "Paella, huh? Haven't tried fixing that yet." But it was a great idea for a meal plan somewhere down the line. Cooking was one of the things he discovered in the last couple of years that he actually enjoyed. It was almost like chemistry class, except you got to eat the end results. It also helped him shut his brain down and focus on the task at hand, which was how he'd gotten started with it to begin with, wide awake with insomnia one night and so damned hungry.

Bucky's gaze swept the room before looking back at Sam once more, considering his words carefully.

"Dogs aren't free. Not really. Someone's always got hold of the leash." He looked away once more. "Even when the owners change, at the end of the day a dog on a leash still obeys or faces the consequences for disobedience."

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Sam’s eyes were steady, serious.

“Thing is, JB, you’re not a dog. You never were. People treating you like a dog doesn’t make you a dog. It says more about them than you. You’re a person and you deserve the ability to make choices.”

[endsinafight]

He couldn't help feeling a flicker of warmth at the nickname and he scraped his teeth over his lower lip absently. "Maybe. But if you don't make the right choices, other people suffer the consequences instead of you. That's not okay either. It's arguably a lot worse." Hence, rock and hard place, with him stuck right in the middle.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Sam was concerned and it was getting more intense by the minute.

“What do the rest of us not know?” he asked, simply. There was a story here, he could see the edges of it and he doesn’t like what he was seeing.

[endsinafight]

Bucky drew in a slow breath, then glanced at Sam, his eyes dark with barely concealed emotions. "If I tell you something, can you promise to keep it to yourself?" His voice was almost inaudible.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Sam went stiff. The first rule of counseling work—and he’d been a good counselor—is that you never agree to something like that. You legally can’t, in fact. There are certain sorts of things you’re are required to act on and those things are more than likely to be behind a statement like that.

He wasn’t on the job, though, and he was certain that this wasn’t a mandatory reporter situation.

“You want me to keep a secret from Steve,” he said, flatly. “Honestly, JB. I’m not sure I can say yes to that. We’re a team and you’re part of it. He’s the guy who is responsible for all of us. But at the same time, you deserve the right to autonomy. I’m conflicted. Could you maybe not make me promise and just try to persuade me not to tell?”

Something he didn’t say, but that he was thinking, was that as it stood, he already had enough to talk to Steve the moment he was not high off his ass on pain meds.

[endsinafight]

He watched as Sam tensed beside him, and his heart sank a little. Honestly, he didn't blame him. Not really. Keeping things from Steve was always unpleasant, and there really wasn't a good reason that anyone else needed to hear the kinds of things he was keeping hidden. He didn't need to drag Sam into it anymore than he already had, however inadvertently.

"It's fine," he said after a moment, shaking his head. "It's nothing." There wasn't anything Sam could do about the situation. Wasn't anything anyone could do, even Steve, when it came right down to it. He rubbed his hands over his tac pants, then slowly rose to his feet. "I'm gonna grab some water. Want anything?"

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

“It’s not fine, and it’s not nothing,” Sam said, a little sharp. “To me, sounds like you have some secret deal that you don’t want and the rest of us don’t know about. I’d guess our safety is on the line?”

[endsinafight]

He didn't look at Sam as he started to head away without answering, wishing he'd never opened his mouth to begin with. This was exactly why he didn't talk to people. Once upon a time you couldn't have shut him up. He'd had no problem telling people the truth, and now he couldn't. He made his way to the vending area, realizing he had zero change on him. He exhaled, rubbing his flesh hand over his face.

This entire day was utter shit.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Sam watched Bucky go and swore to himself. This was fucked up, but running back on his choices, he wouldn’t have made any different ones.

After a moment, he got up and followed him. He made no effort to be quiet, really not wanting to sneak up on him. When he noticed him just staring at the vending machine, he handed him some ones.

“You’re not on your own any more, JB. You’ve got some good people at your back. You don’t need to carry the burden on your own,” he said, quiet.

[endsinafight]

Bucky blinked a couple of times at the offered dollar bills, glancing up to meet Sam's gaze before hesitantly taking one of them, inserting it into the machine and punching the button for a bottle of water. For a moment he just stood motionless instead of leaning down to retrieve it.

"I'd never do anything to hurt Steve intentionally," he said, gaze far away even as he stared at the packages of cookies and chips. "And this would. It's why I haven't said anything. It's just easier this way." He drew in a breath, shaking his head a little. "I'll figure it out. You don't need to worry about it."

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

“You know what Steve wants more than anything in the world? For you to be happy,” Sam said, flatly. “After your fight on the helicarrier, him and I had a real drag out argument about taking care of himself. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you this, but he nearly let you kill him. And the thing that scared the shit out of me was that he wasn’t at all sorry about it. He sat at my kitchen table and told me he’d do it again.”

Sam took a shaky breath and then let it out, trying to land back there in those disturbing times.

“The only thing that got through to him was when I said, imagine what Bucky would feel like when he found out he killed out? That’s it. That’s the only thing that made him regret it.

“And then I was there with him, for two years chasing you, and he kept telling me, I hope he’s okay. The only reason why I’m still looking is that I don’t know he’s okay. I’m sure you saw the codes from Natasha, that she put all over the dark web. They weren’t traps, those offers of money and supplies. I don’t even know if you ever took any of the caches, because Steve promised in the code that he wouldn’t check on it and he did. It was what Steve had us do to make sure you had resources, if you need it.

“Honestly, you probably have more examples than me of Steve being crazy—literally insane—about you. But I have enough to say with perfect, total confidence: if you’re keeping something to yourself to protect him, but it’s hurting you? That hurts him.”

[endsinafight]

The blunt reminder of that fight made him flinch like he'd been struck and he swallowed hard. He'd damn near succeeded in that final mission from HYDRA. They knew, because they had to know, that Steve wouldn't kill him. Wouldn't come close. And to reinforce it, they'd sent him in without his mask -- essentially a muzzle. Rabid dogs didn't need to bark, after all. They just needed to attack with a certain amount of violence and viciousness and he'd doled out more than his fair share of both, stretched over decades. Forcing Steve to look him in the face just assured their win for them.

Except it hadn't.

His eyes grew damp the more Sam told him, because he had utilized one of those. Just once, not long after he'd made his initial break from HYDRA and started getting pieces of his memory back. It wasn't like he could hide and have a job at the same time. He was too recognizable.

Bucky wondered if he was just prolonging the inevitable. Steve had halfway figured it out this morning, after all, even if he didn't know the full story by a longshot. He knew enough now to know that Fury had tasked him with the one thing he never wanted to do again. And if he'd just kept that to himself, today would have gone so much differently.

"It won't just hurt him." His voice was quiet, sullen. He turned to look at Sam, then stiffened when he spotted Fury down the hall. His breathing hitched involuntarily.

[littleguyfrombrooklyn]

Sam could see the effect that he was having on Bucky. He didn’t regret going for the jugular like this. He could tell, just in this short conversation, that something was badly wrong. And he figured that the only reason why he was getting this much was that Bucky was so rattled from the traumatic day.

“The rest of us are damned superheroes, JB. You gotta let us take care of ourselves. Or at least know what the the bargain—“

He cut off when Bucky flinched and he turned to face Fury. Sam had always thought the guy was kind of an asshole, but generally good. He was startled to see the abrupt shift in Bucky’s body language. Something like fear stuttered his breath.

“Wilson,” Fury greeted him. “I’m gonna need Barnes here for a debrief. You go keep an eye on Rogers.”

Sam huffed out a breath through his nose and looked at Bucky. He was ready to refuse to go, but if this was another espionage type situation, he didn’t want to fuck it up preemptively. He wished he could read minds, just for a second, just to know if Bucky was legitimately afraid of being disappeared or something. In that case, Sam would stick like glue.

[endsinafight]

Ninety some years ago, Bucky had been seven years old and missing one of his front teeth the day he'd interrupted a fight in the middle of the sidewalk. There were three boys -- all Bucky's size or bigger -- tormenting a short, skinny little blond kid. They'd been tugging on his backpack and pushing him around, but he hadn't laid down and taken the bullying without fighting back. He'd taken a swing and thrown a weak punch at the kid in front of him, only to get waylaid almost immediately. Bucky had balled up both of his fists and charged into the conflict, socking one of the other boys in the nose hard enough to make it bleed. He remembered asking the little blond why he hadn't just run away.

"They never leave you alone until you make 'em," he'd answered, lip swollen and eye blackened from the short battle. From that day on, Bucky had followed that kid around, pretending to himself that he was his bodyguard, but truth be told, he'd just been enamored by the kid's guts and tenacity. He still was.

He met Sam's eyes for a brief moment, then squared his shoulders with resolve that he hoped would make Steve proud, turning to look at Fury again.

"I'm under orders to wait on that debrief until my captain is awake," he responded.