endsinafight | For notmyfuture (Reply)

Staying away grows more and more difficult the more he begins remembering. It feels like it takes an eternity even though in reality he's only been free from HYDRA for a little over a year (372 days, to be precise). Some days he can't discern whether the things he remembers are real, or if they're just because his brain is Swiss-fucking-cheese and he's trying desperately to fill in the holes with things that make sense.

Nights are by far the worst. He wakes up drenched in a cold sweat and shaking uncontrollably the times he manages any sleep at all. Sometimes the dreams are about things he's done; other times they're about the things that were done to him. More than once he's tempted to send Steve a text, or to call him, just to hear his voice. He doesn't want any of that to touch Steve, is the thing. He knows Steve knows some of what he's done; a lot of the Winter Soldier files had been dumped on the internet by Natalia when she helped Steve and the birdman take down SHIELD. He's looked at some of them himself, needing to know what's circulating, what people know about him. There is no hint of who the Winter Soldier is in any of them.

And yet he knows there are people who know; HYDRA allies still on the loose, scattered across the globe even as Steve's team takes them down one at a time. From time to time, Bucky is tempted to do the same. But the idea of picking up a weapon again so soon makes him feel sick to his stomach. And there's the other piece of things; if he gets too close to the wrong person still working for HYDRA, the chances are far too high that he'll end up back with them himself. Because the trigger words are still implanted in his brain, and short of a bullet he doesn't think there's a way to truly be free of them.

So he waits. He scratches out the few things that come to him -- whether they're real or not, posting the scraps of thoughts and images in a handwritten journal that he keeps near him around the clock.

And he's far from having all of his memories back. He's not sure he'll ever have them all back. And maybe it's easier, not to know what all he'd lost. Then again, he has a good imagination, so maybe it's imagining that's worse. At the end of the day, it doesn't really matter. He can't undo what was done. He's just not sure how to go about moving forward, either.

By day 427, the urge to see Steve in person is too strong to resist. He keeps his head down, blending in with the crowded New York sidewalks as he makes his way to Manhattan. Steve doesn't live at Avenger's tower, and it's a risk, getting that close; regardless of Steve's views on his history, he sincerely doubts that his team feels any real level of benevolence toward him. Hell, he doesn't even feel it toward himself. And maybe he's a coward for not being ready and willing to turn himself into the authorities and face what he's done just yet. But his need to see Steve outweighs his current need for self-preservation and sometimes he thinks those two things are one in the same anyway.

He lingers at a Starbucks across the street, ordering a sugary beverage whose name he doesn't know, already knowing he wants to figure it out because he's going to get another one, and then drinking it outside at one of the tables, keeping a watchful eye toward the front of Avenger's Tower. He gets through three drinks before he spots the person he's waiting on, leaving the building with his head down, and shoulders slightly hunched. He's on his feet and following in an instant, weaving through the crowd with practiced expertise until they're nearly three blocks away.

He wonders, idly, if Steve has any idea he's being followed.