Sgt. James Barnes

[saintpiper]

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[thebuckstr]

saintpiper:

Piper smiled softly at his gentle apology. There was a time when he wouldn’t’ve been able to apologize for such an outburst, and she was so proud of how far he’d come in the past few years. “It’s okay,” she said, still smiling. She reached up to pet his hair. “I understand. I totally understand. I’d probably do the same thing.”

She held onto the strong arms around her waist, embracing the feeling of closeness to the man she loved more than anything else in the world, besides their son. And, of course, her new baby. “No,” she laughed, rubbing her hands up and down his arms. “No, I feel fine. Really, I do. I was a little sick when I went to the doctor this morning, but other than that I’m fine.” Was she, though? Maybe for now, yes, but what about when she went into labor? Would everything be fine then? “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.”

Her soft assurances coupled with that damn smile of her’s caused the last of Bucky’s anger to fade, and he took a deep breath to rid himself of it for good. He hated the temper he had nowadays, and he missed the times when little Stevie was the only one he had to hold back in a fight. Now, thanks mostly to Hydra and the war itself, Bucky’s own wife had to worry about him spiraling into a rage. But he always forced himself to remember that he’d gotten better. He’d gotten a lot better, and that was usually enough to give him hope for the future.

But now the future looked dull. It was dark and ominous and everything it shouldn’t be with a new baby on the way - their baby. Any shock he might have felt at being a father for a second time was drowned out almost completely by the stomach-twisting fear of losing both Pipes or their new child - maybe even both. Just like last time. Just like Mabel.

Trying - and mostly failing - to wipe those thoughts from at least the forefront of his mind, Bucky leaned down to kiss the tip of Piper’s nose, the smile on his face only partially forced. “Thanks for understandin’,” he said. “It ain’t fair to get all huffy at you when it was clearly a two person dance, huh?”

His smile turned a little sad when he heard that she’d been sick earlier. “I wish I’d known. I would’a taken you an you wouldn’t’ve been alone.” Bucky cupped her cheek with his palm, taking a defeated breath. “But I get why you didn’t say anything ’til after you knew for sure,” he added, making sure Piper knew he wasn’t angry with her.

But was he angry at himself? Oh, hell yes. Even though he had said it himself - it was a two person dance - he still felt responsible. After all, his “superior” DNA or whatever Stark or Banner called it was more than likely the cause of this mess; and it would quite possibly be the cause of something much worse, about nine months from now.

That thought made him think, and his eyes widened as his metal hand slipped to flatten against Piper’s belly. “How far along? Jesus, I didn’t even think to ask ’til now.” 

What he thought, however, was much different than what he said. How long until we have to face the truth?

[saintpiper]

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[thebuckstr]

saintpiper:

“Bucky -” Piper started to give him a soothing it’s okay, it’ll be okay, but he’d already gotten to his feet and knocked over the block tower. It wasn’t even something she could rightfully promise - it wasn’t okay, and, in truth, it probably wouldn’t be okay.

She all but ran to him, tightly grasping his upper arms, just like she used to to when he would have his outbursts, before Hamish was born. “These things happen, the doctor said so. We couldn’t help it.” The last thing she wanted was for him to think it was his fault somehow - but, given his original time period, he no doubt would anyway. “It’ll be fine,” she reached up to pet his hair, hoping it would calm him down. “It’ll be alright.” 

But who was she trying to convince?

“You’re not going to lose me,” she said, shaking her head, glancing down at her crying son, hoping she was right. “I’ll be fine, the doctor said the first time… it wasn’t supposed to happen. None of it was supposed to happen. And it might not happen again.”

The touch of Piper’s hands closed Bucky’s eyes and slowed his breath, if only enough to make him stop and think - or perhaps to stop overthinking. His eyes opened once he’d taken a deep breath, and he stared into her eyes with that familiar feeling of falling into them. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t lose her.

“Yeah, guess we couldn’t,” he mumbled, lips twitching at the remembrance of what Amy had said - super sperm. Still, none of it mattered - not how it happened, when it happened, or how hard they’d tried to prevent it. It was happening, it was already here. It was like waking up in the middle of a storm with no way out, no light at the end of the tunnel.

And Bucky felt worst when he was out of control.

But he still leaned into Piper’s touch, his cheek grazing against the soft skin of her palm. Her words of assurance were dipped in a thick accent and a layer of I don’t believe what I’m saying, and he knew her well enough to know it wasn't all coming from her heart. But imagining how he felt, Bucky couldn’t imagine how she felt through all of this.

It was at that moment that Hamish’s increasingly loud cries sent Bucky to appease him, which meant having to tear himself from Piper’s touch. It was as easy as getting his pacifier (which he really wasn’t supposed to still have, but they just couldn’t say no to him), though, which was a relief; sometimes it took hours to calm him down. After stooping to clean it with his own mouth and handing it to his son, Bucky turned his attention back to his wife.

“I - I’m real sorry, Pipes. I shouldn’t’ve snapped my cap like that.” He smiled softly, moving blonde hair from her face and kissing her forehead as if everything was alright. After all - he’d gotten pretty damn good at hiding his feelings over the last fifty years with HYDRA.

He placed his hands on Piper’s waist and gently pulled her towards him, his hands shaking only slightly now. He felt sick to his stomach - the complete opposite of how he was supposed to feel. But he spoke nonetheless, a sense of worry and maybe a hint of panic in his tone. “How’re you? Are you doin’ okay? Are you sick?”

[saintpiper]

home

[thebuckstr]

saintpiper:

Key in hand, Piper stared at the front door. It was as if there was a sort of blockade stopping her from going inside; she didn’t want to face what - or, who - was on the other side. She just wasn’t ready.

She finally took a deep breath and unlocked the door. She walked into the large, lovely  home they shared with Steve and Amy (the type of home she never in a million years thought she’d ever live in), and shut the door behind her. Wedged heels hit hardwood floor as she made her way towards the living room, where Bucky said he was when she’d called him earlier. That was also when she lied to him about where she was.

“Bucky?” Piper said quietly, looking in through the archway of the living room. “I - we need to talk for a second.” An involuntary smile spread across her features at the sight of her son, and she knelt down to pet the two-year old’s hair. “Bucky,” she started, looking him straight in the eye from her position kneeling on the floor. Ordinarily, this would be good news, but not to them. Not to them. “I’m pregnant.”

Ever since he was little, Bucky had dreamed of having a family. A wife, a nice house, a few kids (maybe a few more). The whole nine yards - he had always wanted it all. And after he met Piper… well, things just fell into place, and all of his domestic dreams started coming true, one by one, like dominoes falling down.

They’d gotten married pretty soon (a small ceremony, nothing fancy at all - neither of them wanted that) and so the first checkbox was filled. Then they officially moved in with Stevie and Amy, which was for a few reasons; the house was certainly big enough, for one. And Bucky, even though he was so much better than he had been… he was still prone to the occasional outburst, say if he heard a trigger word on the TV or something. He wouldn’t hurt anyone anymore, though - which came in real handy when Hamish was born.

But oh, god, had it been a disaster. He could still see the blood.

They were both ecstatic to have their son, but Piper had almost died just like Sybil and neither of them wanted to risk that again. One kid was enough, anyway; it wasn’t like he’d ever be lonely, right? He had Kennedy and Ginger to be just as good as siblings - as well as any other kids their housemates decided to whip up.

And besides, he didn’t feel as if they needed another baby - Hamish was the light of Bucky’s whole life. With features given from both sides of the family, he was the perfect symbol of the love his parents shared, and he was loved with infinite amounts in return from everyone in the house - even if he did cry quite a lot.

In a familiar state of bliss, Bucky was showing Hamish how a little noisy toy worked when Piper came in, just as she said she was going to. He let the boy play with the toy alone while he leaned back and watched Piper pet him, the sincerest of small smiles on his stubbled features.

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” Bucky said nonchalantly, almost half-paying attention. He’d already leaned forward again to show Hamish the right side of the toy, since he’d started fussing when it stopped making noises. But all sounds drowned out when Piper next spoke, and it felt as though all of the blood in Bucky’s body simply disappeared.

“No, we -“ He shook his head fiercely, barely meeting Piper’s gaze. This was his fault. “We were so careful, I mean, after what the doc said, we can’t -“ He stood abruptly from the sofa, accidentally knocking Hamish’s prized block tower down in the process, to which the boy responded with a loud cry and screech - but Bucky couldn’t hear him. His ears were ringing so loudly that he couldn’t hear, and memories of blood-soaked sheets seen through uncontrollable tears were clouding his vision. He’d already lost so much. He couldn’t lose Piper.

He turned around, unaware if she had said anything or not. “What do we do, Pipes? I - I - we can’t lose you.”

[thebuckstr]

we go crashing down

Bucky shrugged his jacket off his shoulders with a slight shiver, the warm air of lawyer’s office making for a stark contrast to the snow falling outside. He hung the tattered old jacket on the coat rack, making sure it was securely on before turning away. It had been his father’s old jacket, once upon a time; and it held more than sentimental value. Working on the docks in the summer was bad enough, but the winter was brutal, and Bucky was sure he’d fall into the icy water and die without that jacket. (Bucky was always known to be a bit overdramatic, though.)

Eager to leave the office as soon as possible --- since the only thing Bucky cared to know about lawyers was that they forced people from what shitty housing they had and shoved them to the streets --- Bucky moved towards the secretary’s desk, opening his mouth to ask where the girl named Amy was so he could walk her to wear she and Steve were “definitely not going on a date, Buck!” at the movies, for which Bucky was secretly paying.

But the secretary shocked Bucky. He’d expected an old lady to start barking at him simply for being young, or walking into her place of employment and daring to bother her --- but the girl behind the counter... Jesus, look at her! Now, Bucky was no stranger to beautiful dames; no sir. He got around, and he’d seen and acted upon plenty of these types of feelings before. But there was something in the girl’s eyes that made him stop in his tracks, that made him almost stutter, and he was flabbergasted. Luckily he was able to speak clearer than he could think, though he didn’t realize that his gaze was travel lining a little too generously over the secretary.

“Ma’am,” he greeted, smiling easily and giving her a small wink. “You think you might be able to help a guy like me out?”

[thebuckstr]

godsrighteousman:

The sound of detonating bombs made it was almost impossible to think. Not because they were loud – the distance between those weapons and those they were trying to kill, at least on this side of the mountains, wasn’t loud enough to make him jump anymore - no, it was because they were there, trying to cause some kind of mass extinction on both sides of the war. It was all started to seem pointless, just like it had seemed to the soldiers who had already come and gone, just over twenty years before.

Steve watched as his best friend turned in his sleep, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the discomfort of the makeshift bed he was lying on or something else; something deeper, something worse.

He froze, closing his eyes for just a moment. The question was jarring to hear. It wasn’t like he’d never thought about it – everyone had, of course – but it wasn’t something he ever talked about out loud, nor was it something he expected to be asked. “I don’t know, Buck.” It was the truth. “I guess we’ll just have’ta keep fighting, like we always do.”

It wasn’t as if Bucky had expected the answer his friend gave him to be the one he wanted to hear, but something about the tone of Steve’s voice made him feel even worse. This was a man who always made it seem like everything was fine, despite everything not being fine. This was the same man who, after being beaten ruthlessly by his father, insisted on being outside the very next day, playing and running despite his injuries. For him to act like not everything was fine made Bucky’s skin crawl.

Any chance of sleep was completely gone now, he realized, as his heart picked up a fast rhythm and his legs twitched to move. The injuries sustained while in HYDRA’s ‘care’ were still bothering him, but he never said anything about it; he didn’t want Steve to feel any more guilty than he already did, even though there was no reason for him to feel that way.

Bucky sat up enough to lean on his elbow, looking over at Steve. His features turned solemn, and he looked into his friend’s blue eyes. “D’you think my folks back home are alright?” He asked, but then realized he’d asked yet another unanswerable question. “Nah, nevermind. Y’don’t have’ta answer that, pal. I’m only askin’ so I can stop thinkin’, y’know?”

[thebuckstr]

It had been an unusually long night. The bombs sounded in the distance almost constantly, causing painful memories to resurface with each resonating boom. It wasn’t that Bucky wasn’t tired enough to sleep --- because he definitely was, after the day the company had spent walking --- but the nightmares were keeping him awake. They weren’t even about the war --- weren’t they supposed to be about the war? About the men around him dying, about the wounded, about the civilians stuck in between?

No. Instead, he dreamed of Brooklyn, of its buildings and tenement housing alike burning in the flames of a growing war. He dreamed of his family being sent to war camps. He dreamed of there not being anywhere to go when --- or if --- the war ended.

“Stevie,” Bucky said quietly, turning on his crude bed made of his blue jacket to face his friend. “What if the war never ends?”

[saintpiper]

unstoppable

[thebuckstr]

saintpiper:

Piper was lying on the bed, the soft beeping of several machines slowly trying to lull her to sleep, a feeling she was fighting off with everything she had left. The room was still, and it smelled dull somehow, if that was possible. It felt like the gray walls and bland artwork were draining the life out of her, even though she knew it was doing exactly the opposite.

She didn’t remember everything that had happened, although people say you’re supposed to see your life in vivid color when you’re about to die. She only remembered the before; going to the hospital, her excitement and fear, and the labor pain – especially the pain. But it was okay, it was all okay, until it suddenly wasn’t. Piper couldn’t remember what happened after they took the baby away and rushed Bucky out, but she knew it must’ve happened fast. Her heart swelled when she thought about that first and only look she got of her baby. Mabel, they named her, after one of Bucky’s sisters.

When Piper asked the nurse if she could visit the nursery to see her, he said she was too weak to leave, and it was dangerous for her to try and walk just yet. So, Bucky had picked her up, gently, and carried her to their daughter. No one stopped him, of course – they knew who he was, and who the hell was going to try and stop Bucky Barnes, the World War II veteran who’d survived more unimaginable shit in twenty years than they had in their whole life?

When he came back, she smiled, and sat up – a movement she was quite proud to show off. “How is she? Did you hold her? Have they fed her yet?”

He could still play it all back in his head. They’d been so happy, so excited for the new life that was meeting the world, a life they’d created. But then the baby was born, and his heightened, trained senses had been bombarded with the overwhelming smell of metallic blood. He knew that wasn’t normal; he’d seen his fair share of births. Back in Brooklyn, everyone was having babies --- his mother and sisters included. Then the nurses tried to usher him out and he fought them back, trying to get a glance at Piper --- but he didn’t see what he’d hoped. She had been as white as the sheets that she was lying on, and the blood stain under her was spreading like fire. Bucky remembered something eerily similar happening all those years ago, back in his family’s apartment the day they lost Sybil. 

Oh, had he started crying then. They even had to get Steve to come and take him from the room, because the nurses had no chance, and he’d already pushed one of them against the wall in his attempts to get back to Piper’s side. He went numb after that. He could remember Steve’s voice in his ear in the waiting room, telling him it would all be okay in a voice that told him the exact opposite; sometimes Steve forgot how well he knew him. Tears had fallen freely down his cheeks, his half-grown beard catching them as they fell. 

But then they had brought Mabel out -- he wanted to call her Mabel, because his sister of the same name had faced life head-on, without fear, and he wanted her to be strong; especially considering at the time he thought she’d grow up without a mom. Bucky could remember the way her tiny, bundled body had felt in his arms, and the way her warmth had warmed even the cold metal of his arm. He had been reluctant to let her go, but they told him Piper was recovering and he’d be able to see her, so he rushed to her side. After taking her to the nursery, Bucky returned with a soft, tired smile, and enough love in his eyes to melt the entirety of Greenland.

Bucky sat down on the bed gently, careful not to move too much. He shushed Piper softly, taking her intertwining their hand in his left and stroking her hand with his right. “Don’t sit up, babe,” he said quietly, smoothing the hair from her face and touching her cheek. “She’s doin’ great. And yeah, I held her,” he said, his voice sounding as if he were dreaming. “God, Pipes, she was so goddamn soft. It was like she was... a pillow made of glass, or somethin’. She was soft, but I didn’t wanna break her, y’know? She’s just so small.” He looked back at Piper then, and smiled widely. “Oh, and yeah --- she ate like a horse! A whole bottle and a half, they said. Apparently that’s a lot in baby-terms.” His smile faded, and he looked into her eyes with serious look. “I thought I was gonna lose you, Pipes,” he said, his voice quiet and on the verge of cracking. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, holding it on his chest afterward. “Jesus. I don’t ever wanna see you like that again.”

[thebuckstr]

They warn you about the environment of war; the wet mud, the dry heat, the frigid cold. You’re prepared for all that. They warn you about being away from your family and friends; they make it easy to write and receive letters you’re overseas, and give you weekend leaves. They warn you about the death and the destruction, too; and even though you aren’t prepared for the bloodshed, you get through it, because there’s another battle waiting to be fought the next day, without that brave soul who saved your life the day before by your side. Who would save you today, you wonder? Or will it be you, saving someone else? Dying for someone else, so that they can die the next day, and so on? And so on and on and on, until the war is “won”?

The voice stopped ringing in Bucky’s ears when someone shook him awake. He had been rather ungracefully sleeping on his medical cot, somewhere between the cot and the floor, tangled in the blanket. His head began to throb immediately upon his waking; his wounds he’d received at the hands of Red Skull’s men had proved worse than they thought, despite his being able to walk from the Nazi base back to the tent city they called home. He stifled a groan into his pillow before ever so slowly turning around onto his back, his shirt twisting to reveal several bandages across his torso, and a sling half-cradling his arm. Despite the head bandage that was threatening to slip off of his head, Bucky smiled at who had woken him.

“Stevie,” he croaked, then quickly cleared his throat and looked around for that pale of water the nurses always had going around. “Been a long night. Sorry ‘bout my voice,” he said sheepishly, his own words sounding foreign to his ears. “They say it’s from all the screamin’.”

[thebuckstr]

“can’t let you have all the fun.”

The castle was so much bigger than Bucky had expected. He knew it was big, or course, but he figured with all the huge buildings her was used to that it wouldn’t come as a big shock to him. But boy, was he wrong. The ride over the lake, or river, or whatever it was --- it was dark, he couldn’t tell --- was pleasant up until the castle began looming overhead, and it gave Bucky the brief sensation that it was going to come tumbling down on top of him.

But, of course, it didn’t. He made it inside without so much as a squeak of his shoe, and was instructed by the witch that had met him at the gates to stay where he was, right by the front doors that led into the Great Hall, until she returned. She was an older lady, with a tall, pointed hat and a stern look on her face, but she was nice enough. Bucky had a lingering thought that maybe she was the Professor McGonagall that Steve had written to him about, but he didn’t think about it for too long before he wandered a little further into the castle.

It was late; at least midnight, Bucky reckoned, since the only train that ran so far into the semester was a late one, to avoid any Muggles seeing. Despite how tired --- and hungry --- he was, he felt a jolt of excitement when he thought about how Steve was here, in these very walls, and he had no idea Bucky was here. Oh, he couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.

It wasn’t long until Professor McGonagall was back, and after telling him a tray would be sent to his room, she was leading him up winding staircases and long corridors that he knew he’d get lost in later. The end result of walking through such a maze, it seemed, was arriving at the Slytherin Common Room. He asked why he was being sent there when he hadn’t even been sorted yet, but she assured him it was because until he was sorted, she figured he’d want to be with his friend. Bucky smiled at that, realizing why Steve had written so nicely about her.

He entered the room quietly, walking up the designated stairway to the boys’ quarters. Once there, he expected to have to wake Steve up; he knew all those stairs wore him out, even if he did lie in his letters. But instead of finding him sleeping, he found everyone but him sleeping. His best friend was sitting up in a large, plush bed --- shit, that looks comfortable --- and appeared to be reading a large, tattered book; of course.

“Stevie!” Bucky yelled, forgetting about all of the other boys trying to sleep. He leapt onto Steve’s bed, wrapping his arms around the frail body of his friend and squeezing. 

[thebuckstr]

we all have a list of people we’d take a bullet for - saintpiper

[saintpiper]

Bucky. Piper tried to scream his name – out of fear, denial, love - but only an incoherent, suffocated sound escaped. Her throat had closed off, and it felt like a hand had wrapped around her, suffocating her.

She immediately fell to her knees beside him, completely unaware of how hard she’d hit the ground, and the bruises that would cover her knees in an hour. Piper reached for Bucky’s injured, bleeding chest – she’d never done this before, dealt with anything like this - and the amount of blood that suddenly soaked her hands shocked her.

“It-…” She was trying to say something comforting, but the burning in her throat cut off her words. The smell of metal was overwhelming. She took a quick, shaky breath before trying again. “It’s oka-ay,” she said, ignoring the tears that threatened to fall onto his chest. He was dying for her. He never even thought twice about it. “I’m okay, I’m okay. You’re gonna be okay, too, yeah? I promise. I promise.”

[thebuckstr]

His breath came only in short bursts of stuggled gasps, but a small smile still spread over his bloody lips when he saw Piper’s blurry face swim in and out of focus in front of him. Somewhere deep inside of him he had reconciled with the fact that he was dying; it was like coming to a conclusion, with the coldness in his hand and arm serving as the final factor of the decision. 

But seeing Piper... it changed his mind. How could he die? How could he possibly leave her? She was crying, and it was his fault because he had given up. No, he thought. He had to live. He had to get through this for her, not matter how impossible it felt. And so, with his newfound strength -- albeit still weak -- Bucky opened his eyes wider, forcing his vision to clear for a short time.

He nodded feebly despite his want to be strong, moving his left hand to his chest in search for Piper’s.  He found it, taking her shaking hand in his cold metal one and squeezing her fingers. The strength was provided by the synthetic metal, but he hoped it would give the illusion that he was okay. The thought of her crying hurt Bucky more than any bullet ever could.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice sounding strange to his own ears somehow. “M’...gonna be fine,” he continued, his voice becoming slightly stronger. He felt a surge of energy spread through him, but whether it was because he was actually gaining strength he didn’t know. Didn’t that happen -- didn’t people feel strongest when they were weakest? If Stevie had taught him anything, it was that even the weakest moment of a person’s life could turn into the strongest.

Suddenly his pain subsided enough for his thoughts to clear, and he started to sit up. He still had a firm grasp on Piper’s hand, as if it was the foothold that gave him the momentum to move. His head was light on his shoulders and he swayed a little, but he stayed sitting up all the same. He moved his right hand to his shirt, moving the lower portion of the fabric to his wounds and pressing it there.

“We better... call an ambulence or somethin’, huh?” He said, a lightearted tone to his voice, and he smiled a little before a coughing fit -- complete with blood -- overtook him. He grimaced as the pain returned, but he didn’t allow himself to fall back down until the sound of an ambulence echoed in his fading hearing. “N’v’mind,” he said, gently lying back down. “Somebody already did.”

[saintpiper]

“Bucky?” Piper’s hands had been shaking for the last half hour when she finally broke down and called for him, realizing that, while it was her preferred plan, sitting on the couch and hoping Bucky would happen by and ask if she was pregnant probably wasn’t going to happen. “Can I, um, talk to you? About something?”

[thebuckstr]

Bucky stopped in the middle of the hallway, a laundry basket filled with clothes that belonged to Steve, Amy, Piper, and himself propped between his hand and waist. His rather loud humming of Rum and Coca-Cola -- which was blaring from the stereo in the laundry room -- came to a stop, too, and he spun into the archway to look at Piper, seated on the couch. He was still in movement when he responded; he had been on the move since he had woken up that morning, cleaning and cooking and running errands, and he found it hard to stop. “’Course, babe. What’s goin’ on?” Evidently, Bucky didn’t know she meant sit down and talk, because he was still bouncing a little to the music with the basket in hand.

[spdrparker]

sebastian stan at good morning america in nyc (2014)

[heartfulloffandoms-deactivated2]

[evanss-chris]

Sebastian Stan Covers ‘August Man Malaysia’ April 2016

[thebuckstr]

we all have a list of people we’d take a bullet for - saintpiper

It didn’t happen quickly, per say; it happened at almost a regular speed, which went against all of the common tropes about life-changing – or life-ending – occurrences. Wasn’t his life supposed to flash before his eyes, or something? Or was it whatever HYDRA had done – was he even going to die?

Was a bullet to the chest even fatal for someone like him?

If it wasn’t, it sure as hell felt like it. Bucky’s entire chest burned like his shirt had caught fire and had spread fiery heat over his skin, and it had broken through and scorched his ribs. A foreign hand touched it, and he looked down to see it was his own; blood smeared over his fingertips, a strangely warm feeling returning to his flesh. If it had been his left arm, he wouldn’t have felt it quite the same, but he had reached with his right, and now the wet, sticky redness was on his fingers and he couldn’t look away from it.

It had only been a few seconds since he had screamed out and leapt in front of Piper, but it felt like years. What started as normal time now stretched into a slow motion sensation, and he felt his knees buckle – the next thing he felt was his shoulder hitting the ground. He wanted to get up, to fight and kill whoever had tried to shoot Piper – his Pipes – but his body would not allow it. Out of the corner of his eye, with blurry vision, he thought maybe he saw someone else taking down the culprit – or maybe it was just his imagination. He hoped it wasn’t.

Suddenly the great urge to cough overcame him, and he had no choice but to comply with his throat’s demands. Bucky heaved, immediately regretting it; metallic liquid sputtered from his throat and into his mouth, filling his taste buds with the iron taste of blood. He gasped for another breath, but suddenly he was frantically looking around for Piper – what if there was another bullet?

“P-Pipes…?” He managed through a bloodied mouth, his eyes slightly obscured from tangled hair. “Are… are –” Another coughing fit ensued, but he tried to talk through it, “—are you… o-okay?”

[godsrighteousman]

Steve’s immediate reaction was to touch him somehow - to squeeze his arm in a comforting gesture, or even just to hug him - but he knew, he could tell, it wasn’t the right time. He hoped one day it would be, that Bucky would be totally comfortable in his skin again - but now, too much familiarity would only frighten him. 

He followed his friend into the living room, making sure to lag behind just enough to give him space. “You shouldn’t worry about that, Buck,” Steve started, looking around the room for the best place to sit, settling on the coffee table. Not too close, not too far. “It’s not your fault. They wouldn’t blame you, y’know. They wouldn’t even be disappointed.”  

[thebuckstr]

Bucky’s skinerupted in goosebumps in response to the chilly living area, and the sensation onlystrengthened the feeling of being out of his own body. And he had to be out of his body, because hewould never have forgotten theirnames otherwise. He shook his head a little at Steve’s first attempt to comforthim. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate it, or even that it wasn’t helping; itjust seemed so foreign to Bucky. It was supposedto be the other way around, and Stevewas supposed to be upset and Bucky wassupposed to comfort him. But that wasn’t their lives anymore. One glance atSteve – all six foot and more of him – proved that.

“Y’think?”He said, knitting his eyebrows together. There was still doubt in his voice,but at least the urge to cry was subsiding. He motioned Steve in, appreciativeof his initial instinct to stear clear but wanting his friend closer. “I guessyou’re right,” he continued slowly. “I dunno, though. Seems like they would’ve beena ‘lil upset, if only for the sake of bein’ upset.” He smiled a little at thememory of the girls being dramatic, but it faded soon after. “Steve,” he saidafter a moment, looking into the other’s eyes with a glossy gaze. “They’redead, aren’t they?”

[godsrighteousman]

“’Dunno, I guess you’re made for each other,” Steve mumbled coolly, setting his glass back down on the counter and pushing it away from him. He gave the room a once-over before turning back to his friend with a weary sigh. “Why’d you bring me here, Buck? I swear if you’re playing at something, I’ll beat your ass.”

[thebuckstr]

“Oh, ouch, you really tore me up with that one,” he replied sarcastically, putting the cup back down and signaling for a refill. Once it was given, he downed the shot and looked to Steve, the grimace form the burn of the alcohol still on his features. 

Bucky actually laughed out loud at Steve’s threat. “Will you really? And here I was thinkin’ I could still take you down even if I get drunk. Silly me.” He sniffed dryly then, twirling the glass shot glass on the counter. “Honestly, Stevie,” he said after a moment, hesitating because he didn’t want a scene when Steve tried to kill him. “I... might’ve set us up with some girls. Maybe.”