imfollowinghim | fourteen ✪ voice

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fourteen ✪ voice

[Anyone on the second floor (or first or third, really) might have heard a couple gunshots, shattering glass and other signs of a fight not too soon before Bucky's post. Then there's another gunshot, and silence for a couple seconds before quiet voices start up - C'rizz and Bucky.

A while later, a post's on the network. Bucky's panting and his voice is hoarse and strained, either because he's exhausted or in a hell of a lot of pain (it's both), but he manages to let everyone know what the hell was going on anyway.]

Zane's dead. [That's it. That's all he wants to say about it, and it kind of seems like he's going to leave it at that before he bites out:]

We need fucking call signs or passwords next time this happens.

[And then clicks the comm off so he can figure out how he's getting to the infirmary, because he is definitely not being carried.]

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[Steve just manages to look smug - although fine, go ahead and thump him, he deserves it, but he's not going to look apologetic for it, either. Or let you get the last laugh.] They'd never believe you. Think you were trying to slander my good name.

[Yeah, except for the shit-eating grin on his face.

Still. Things have changed, a lot. But even then… fractured or not, Bucky's not a monster. He never will be. No one, nothing, will ever convince Steve otherwise. Never. And if he's got to remind Bucky of that until he's blue in the face… well, he will. That's what friends do.

(And honestly? Steve might have killed Zane too, had he been where Bucky was. He's usually got the luxury of subduing someone by sheer advantage of greater strength rather than killing them. But not always. And someone like Zane? He's not sure he could subdue him. Especially not when Zane can use the shield against him, because that's one of Steve's bigger advantages. He doesn't expect Bucky to feel sorry about it, and he won't ask him to. Steve's not unhappy with the way things turned out. Maybe he should be more impartial, but he's only human. He'd go to very, very great lengths for Bucky. He will, he knows it.)

And if he deserves anything, it's the ability to want to give the people he cares about a better life. Anything he can do to make that happen… he'd argue he deserves that chance. That's all.

He laughs a little, though, shrugging the one shoulder again. Becky was good-looking, yeah, and she knew it. She'd probably used it, if she'd had to. But she was a lot more than looks. He'd argue Bucky is, too, because Bucky never did have any trouble in that department, either.]

No? That's good. 'Cause I'd probably have to tie you up to stop you, and you'd grouch about it. Endlessly.

[He'll just ignore the fact that yeah… you'd think Steve would have had enough practice at being stuck in bed to be gracious about it. But he's never been. The instant he felt minutely better, he's always tried to get up, get back to normal, sometimes with very poor consequences. And yet, the next time… he just gets right up and tries again.

Although that genuine expression, a minute later, means more than he can say.]

So am I. [Because if Bucky had had to be here alone, feeling guilty and not knowing what had happened to Steve - well. He feels guilty, and he's pissed about what did happen. But this has still got to be better than the alternative. It's better than the alternative of Steve being here alone, mired in his own thoughts, or trying to ignore them and throwing himself into his work. He's still doing a little bit of both, but getting Bucky back, here, helps to remind him just what he's fighting for, what he wants - needs - to do back home. It's not a solution, but it's not a problem.] I seriously never expected to see you - here.

[Not again, because that's not true. Not after what's just happened back home. But he can't say that, so he doesn't.] I missed this. [Not living alone - not being alone. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like, in just two years.] Even with your occasional bitching.

[But he doesn't mean that. Bitch away, Bucky. Someone's got to keep him honest.]

Just paying you back for all that whining you did back when you got the flu. [Which isn't super fun to joke about sometimes, because Bucky can still remember being terrified of falling asleep, in case he woke up to find Steve cold and quiet and lifeless under the blanket.

Thank God for Dr. Erskine.

And he did have to live through that - being without Steve and knowing about what happened - for a little while, and it was horrible. It'd only been about a month between him dying and Steve showing up here, and it's probably embarrassing how badly he'd missed having him around. Bucky had missed him during basic and when he'd shipped out, too, but that had been kind of different. As much as he'd thought he was going to die in Italy, and in the factory, that had still felt different. At least Steve had been home and more or less safe, and he wouldn't blame himself for Bucky getting killed.

(Well, Steve probably would have found a way to feel guilty anyway, but Bucky'd like to think it'd be less crazy than it was now.)

This is different. Bucky had died watching Steve's back, and he'd known how badly his friend would be taking it, and it made the rest of it - dying, being dead, dealing with being out of alignment with everyone else when it came to things like technology and pop culture and everything else - harder than it needed to be.]

Yeah, well, you're lucky you've got someone who'll put up with your bullshit. [And would call you on it. Endlessly. That's his job.

Bucky reaches over to pat Steve's shoulder gently, affectionate, trying to solidify that yeah, he's here and real and all that.]

Missed you, too.

[Again, for the whole month he was here by himself.

It was a long month.]

I did not whine. [He's smiling, though it's a little softer than that shit-eating grin, because maybe he didn't whine, exactly, but there were times he felt awful and was sick of feeling awful and he hadn't been the best company. And yet Bucky had put up with it, and Steve knows it. Bucky'd put up with anything from him. He knows that, too. He just hopes Bucky knows it goes both ways.

And he is, quite honestly, even glad to have Bucky around to call him on his bullshit. He'd do a hell of a lot, put up with a hell of a lot, just to have Bucky around. Anything, pretty much, seems like a fair trade-off at this point, because it's never, ever gotten easier not to have him around.

And he truly can't imagine what it was like for Bucky, for even that single month. He's just sorry it was a whole month. But he's also glad it wasn't longer.

Besides, he knows a month can feel like a very, very long time.

Just like that hand on his shoulder, and everything it means, feels so very, very good. He doesn't know if he'll ever really, truly get this back. It's what he wants, but he doesn't have the answers, he doesn't know what HYDRA's done, how much of it can be fixed.

So he's just got to try to enjoy this now, while he can, and let it be part of the reason he'll never, ever give up chasing Bucky down back home.]

Well, if you're gonna keep putting up with my bullshit, then you can put up with me saying you should go back to sleep, too. You still need, it, buddy.

And I'm not sleeping until you do.

[If Steve looks like he knows he's using Bucky's protectiveness against him... well. He does. And he is.]

[Bucky chuckles and then groans a little, because yeah, right, not a good idea. But he's still grinning, and shoves at Steve a little. It's as playful as it usually is, but the angle and the fact that he still feels like crap kind of bleed together to mean he's not exactly putting the force behind it he usually would.]

Alright, alright. [Steve's definitely using his weakness against him, and for the time being... he doesn't mind.

God knows he probably does need sleep, even more than he usually does.] I can take a hint.

[So he takes his hand back and does his best to get comfortable, even if he needs to keep his breathing shallow and slow to avoid feeling like he's getting stabbed in the lungs. He's still resting on his uninjured side, and gropes around for a moment until his fingers close on a blanket that he promptly tosses at Steve. A second one gets sort of haphazardly draped over his legs, but he doesn't move to pull it up any higher.

Apparently satisfied, he closes his eyes and lets out a slow breath.]

Night Steve.

[Steve just rolls his eyes - even if there had been more force behind that shove, it wouldn't have done much, and every once in a while, he likes to be a little punk and prove that he can take his licks a lot better now, even if Bucky had never, ever shoved him in anything but jest.]

Might be the first time, [Steve says, smiling a little smugly, partly to be all the more annoying, but partly because he's actually glad Bucky's seen his point. He lets Bucky get comfortable (or as comfortable as he can, with busted ribs) and snorts a little when the blanket he assumed was going over Bucky comes flying his way - he shouldn't have been surprised. He settles down with extreme care next to his best friend; Steve's never tended to toss and turn, but now it's all the more important to make sure he's not going to smack or kick Bucky in his sleep. And Bucky's left him more than enough room; Steve eyes the other side of the bed, but there's enough room for Bucky, too, so he doesn't say anything. It's not both of them trying to squeeze onto a twin, anymore, which is good because that really, really doesn't work anymore.]

Night, Buck.

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fourteen ✪ voice

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