juststeverogers | Memento Mori (Infinity War Spoilers Here, not Nexus-compliant)

Memento Mori (Infinity War Spoilers Here, not Nexus-compliant)

Steve's always had a rough time with his dreams.

It can be tough sussing out what's real and what isn't when everyone's a ghost of someone Steve used to know. Sharon Carter. Tony Stark. He used to dream about Peggy and Bucky a lot. Not the haunted face of the Winter Soldier, but the man Steve couldn't save on the train. He could still smell the smoke from their fires on Bucky's favorite jacket. Bucky spent a lot of time helping Steve get his head on straight again once he woke up in New York. Fussing at him for not taking care of himself properly. Telling him stories from their childhood whenever the crushing loneliness and memories of drowning make sleep too costly.

For a while though he'd nearly been better. It was easier to stay in the here and now knowing Bucky was here too. So in some ways, it's not surprising for Steve's rare catches of sleep to come with his own personal hell after Thanos. It's always that wisping ash that carries Bucky's voice before the rest of him slowly materializes back into form. His smiles are softer now. Heavier with the weight of everything they've both survived in mind. But his job is the same as it always was.

Reminding Steve to eat. Sleep. Helping him go over their plans again. Helping him find that detail he needs to get back in there and get the job done. Deep down Steve knows it's not healthy. Knows this isn't real. Knows that if he accepts it it would be too easy to give up on the real James Buchanen Barnes and any shot that comes with it of setting everything to rights.

The odds are so small Steve doesn't comprehend at first what he's seeing. The hand reaching out for him as though it had never crumbled away. The look of dawning realization that something is wrong on Bucky's face. Steve's beat to hell and barely still alive but that hand finding his shoulder is enough that he thinks he could die happy. If this is another dream then it's one he's not going to fight this time. He's so tired.

Steve drops his shield. He's going to be following it shortly as his legs give out.

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It's been too long since he's been this close to someone else. Come to think of it, the last time he had himself wrapped around someone else was probably with Steve, back in the war. It's been a long time since he's needed to be genuinely protective of anyone. The last time that happened... well. It's not like the Winter Soldier had been anything but a weapon; but Bucky is free of that. Hydra will never control him again.

"Do you?" he can't exactly hide the sadness from his tone. "Hardly anything looks the way it used to. Places have changed, this whole world has changed. It makes me feel like nothing that's happened is even real." But maybe that's the trauma talking. Shuri would say it's the trauma talking.

He takes a moment to respond, before answering, "It doesn't matter. We could always pick a place randomly on a map."

"Hate to break it to you, Buck, but we don't look the way we used to either. It's something you learn to adapt to after a while."

The body dysphoria never really goes away, but Steve's learned to cope with this too-large frame if it means he can do what he's needed to. He's always wanted to serve. Help people. Wanted to enlist so bad he signed his life away to a secret project just for a chance to do his duty. And if he hadn't?

Well, Hydra would still have their Winter Soldier, and Steve would be long dead and gone.

There's no point in worrying about the what ifs and could have beens. They're both here now. It's taken so long for them both to be here. So long. For the first time, Steve isn't thinking ahead to the next mission. The next duty. The next fight. He's listening to Bucky's steady breathing like he always used to when he was fighting to control his own spasming lungs.

"Brooklyn's still home. Could get a nice place there once the fallout from the accords is settled. No sense in being on the run forever. You know I've never really traveled just to do it though. S'always been for work. Or looking for you. Should maybe do some of that, too."

"I'm still learning," Bucky admits. Being the Winter Soldier meant that he'd never needed to, or been able to, really think about what had become of his body. It's only now that he's really been able to, and even then all he can do is try not to think about it too much.

He smiles at the Brooklyn comment. "I'd like to go back home. But I don't know, I figure people would be looking for us there." But then again, maybe he doesn't actually care. It'd be a lot easier if things hadn't turned out so poorly-- he sighs, scratching at the side of his jaw. "But you're right. I don't want to be on the run forever. I'm tired of running, it's not good for me."

His smile is strained, but Bucky doesn't look as tired as he feels. "You sure you don't want to become a Wakandan farmer? Might suit you."

Steve can't help but to scoff and it's a tired sound but it's so much lighter than anything that's come out of his mouth in far too long. This feels so much better. This feels right. The nightmares will take a long time to stop but they aren't real anymore. They've put it back to rights.

Bucky is here and alive.

"Me? A farmer? I've never even grown a potted plant and you know it. They'd kick me to the curb faster than I'd get tossed into the alleys back home back before...everything." Steve's not sure what kind of useful things Bucky's picked up during his time spent recovering in Wakanda but being on the run shockingly did not turn Steve to a live of rural cultivation and development.

Bucky laughs. "Not like I was much of a green thumb. Remember that poor ficus my Ma gave me for the apartment?" He smooths his hair out of his face left-handed, looking sweaty and anxious. "But that's what I was doing, you know. Wasn't like I was White Wolf all the time." He winces. He shouldn't be talking about himself in the past tense, not when he's alive.

But he's smiling. "It's not so bad. My hut is comfortable. It's not the kind of place you spend all day in, you know? But it's comfortable. Lots of blankets." His shoulders droop a little, a clear sign he's doing his best to relax. "Kinda hard to believe, but I like the quiet life." There's a reason he normally doesn't have his left arm attached to his body, after all.

Steve lets his gaze wander while Bucky talks, doing his best to take it all in. The same man who drug Steve around their tiny apartment like a ragdoll teaching him how to dance, who always made an excuse to ditch his date whenever Steve's stood him up because they often did, the same man who could never sit still and just let life happen for even a minute--

That man died the day he fell from the train as sure as the Steve Rogers who wanted a family and a normal life died the day Steve put that plane into the Arctic. When they came out from the cold, neither one of them was the same.

When Steve thinks about that carefully, everything Bucky's saying makes a whole lot more sense. Why wouldn't he enjoy a quiet life out here in Wakanda? For the first time in decades he's free. Free to do as much or as little as he likes. Free to remember or do his best to forget. He was, well not enjoying, but keeping a quiet life with his journals and his memories before the Accords when Steve finally found him again.

"If you want to stay here, I'll give it a shot." It doesn't come out forced, either. Why would it? Steve's always followed Bucky wherever he chose to go. Now isn't going to be any different.

Putting his life back together has been a lot like trying to solve a jigsaw puzzle with a third of the pieces replaced with a completely different puzzle, and another third completely missing. But he's doing what he can. He moves to brush a hand against Steve's shoulder, his expression light to mask how tired he feels, how much he really wishes he could curl up in a sleeping bag near Steve's bed.

"I can introduce you to the goats," Bucky says, tone light. He finds the idea a little funny. "It's not like y'have to do this if you don't want, I'm sure there's plenty else you could find in Wakanda." He wants Steve to be here, more than anything else. "But first, I want you to rest up. We heal fast, but you've gotta sleep some of it off. I'll try and get you the biggest hamburger I can find once you do."

"What'd you name them?"

Steve has to hold back a groan when he asks because he's not sure if it'll be something so simple and heart wrenchingly sweet or something barely allowed in polite conversation because it's Bucky and Steve can never really be sure. It's easier to focus on that than to brush off the insinuation that Steve wouldn't want to stay here in Wakanda. Bucky is here and Bucky likes it here and that's all the reason Steve needs. He has a home here and Steve never had time in Romania to take in Bucky's tiny home then. He'll be damned if he misses that chance again now.

Was a time Steve might tease Bucky about how his hut was probably the envy of everyone there. Ask him if he'd found a dame to spend the nights with to make the nights a bit less cold. It was a dance Steve never liked but it was expected of them. He doesn't ask now. Isn't sure he'd want to know the answer. It's enough to know that Bucky's alive and isn't leaving again. Whatever makes the man happy is all Steve Rogers wants. Bucky deserves that after everything he's been through.

"I'm resting now. Look at me." The hand at the back of Bucky's neck tightens ever so slightly. Belying the fear Steve has of letting go of Bucky for even a second he's too proud to say. He doesn't want to sleep again, even if he should. He's tired; they both are. but he's not ready to fade again and risk Bucky not being there when he wakes.

Edited 2018-05-18 13:19 (UTC)

"Ah, let's see," he says, apparently willing to answer the question. He looks thoughtful. "There's Nadya, she's got a black spot on her back. Francine, she's all gray. Oh, and Margot; she's black and white, kinda like those farm cows they used to plaster pictures of on the milk bottle advertisements." The names are pretty old-fashioned sounding, by modern ears. So maybe it's not a shock that Bucky would think to give the goats names that remind him of home.

He doesn't seem aware of Steve's internal thoughts, his gaze flitting around the room every once in a while, just making sure it's secure. Old habits die hard, even if this is his home. He looks down at Steve, smiling. "I'll take you to meet them after you've healed. Serum'll have you back to normal in a couple'a days at most." It would be nice to have Steve in his hut instead, under the blankets on the floor mat, instead of a hospital bed.

"Crash at my place for a while. It'll be fun, like old times."

Shuri or some of the other Wakandans might have teased Bucky for those names but unsurprisingly Steve sees no problem with them at all. They're familiar, names that you used to hear all the time. His smile softens so much hearing Bucky talk about them so fondly.

"I'd be happy to meet them. They sound like a right bunch of fine ladies."

Steve thinks back to that small apartment in Romania with the mattress on the floor and the journals littering the space. There's no way of knowing how long Bucky had lived in that place before Steve arrived, but he has some idea of how long Bucky's been living in Wakanda recovering. He'd resisted constant updates while he'd been avoiding the law. He wouldn't have been able to resist heading right back to Wakanda if he'd known. Bucky needed time to himself to settle into his skin again.

It doesn't make Steve any less overcome with emotion to hear the invitation now though. He finally cracks with a sharp exhale, a few tears slipping down his face.

"Just like the good old days. ....I'm supposed to say I can get by just fine on my own, but. I--I don't want to anymore."

Bucky leans forward a little, smiling. "Yeah. Goats can be jerks, but they like me all right. That's Gotta mean something, right?" He's doing better, wants to think he's doing better. "The kids who live around here are fun, too. You ever meet any of 'em? They get a kick out of me, so I know they'd feel the same about you." He trails off, shrugging a little. "Y'know. Ask you lots of questions, like how you met King T'challa." It's obvious from his tone Bucky hasn't exactly been honest with that question.

"I don't want you to get by on your own," Bucky murmurs, reaching his hand out to brush at the side of Steve's face. "'End of the line,' you know?" It's a simple life, but is one Bucky has come to enjoy. "I'm with you, pal. You're not alone."

He leans in, closer than he needs to, his hair long enough it falls on Steve. "I was told, early on, it's important to have people you trust. Can't lean on 'em, that wouldn't be fair, but a support structure. We ain't exactly the healthiest of guys, but we've got each other." The intimacy is probably more than obvious, considering he's still touching Steve's face.

"Jerks huh? Must be because they think you're one of them."

A weak joke passed off as a weaker insult for a term that's as much an affectionate nickname for Bucky as most men would treat 'baby' or 'honey' to their best gal. He's Bucky's punk, and Bucky is his jerk and they've always known deep down what it really meant. Even when they couldn't say it, couldn't show it, were so sure they'd be going to hell if they ever crossed that line. The times have changed in for once not a bad way. Steve is no longer afraid or ashamed of the fingers brushing aside his tears.

He's known ever since Peggy that what he's felt for Bucky all his life was the same damn thing. It feels right to have Bucky leaning over him like this; satisfies every aching traitorous late night thought Steve had when he'd watch his friend dance with his date of the evening. Steve gives the softest chuckle, barely a sound over a huffing breath.

"I'm with you, Buck." Steve breathes out and he's never meant anything more. "Ain't going nowhere unless you come with me." No more disappearing to parts unknown, throwing himself into every fight he sees. If he's needed, really needed, then he and Bucky can talk. Shifting forward makes him give the smallest grunts of pain, but it's worth it to bridge that last little bit of space between them.

Bucky laughs at that, a breathy noise. He knows exactly what Steve means, doesn't need to ask for clarification. He smiles. "Yeah. Probably." He winks, and can't stop the laugh that bubbles out of his throat. "Probably means they'd like you, don't you think?" he says, trying to picture Steve as a goat farmer. It's a funny thing to imagine, and it makes him feel less exhausted. Just the little image in his head.

"I'd like that," he agrees, nodding. "You'n me, partners. That's what you were always waiting for, right, the right partner?" Bucky can't help it, because the world might have changed around them, but this is one of those things that has changed for the better.

"That's accepted here, you know? It's not something I asked about, but it's something I've seen here. The farmers around here are fine with it, they do it. Hell, the Dora Milaje are proud as hell about it, say it makes 'em stronger." He brushes his hand against Steve's cheek, brushing through his beard. "White Wolf and the Captain together? The entire country'll be singing our praises." He leans in, close enough to brush his lips against Steve's cheek. "And they're not the sort to let it be a big deal."

"We were a bit thick about it. Right partner was there th'whole time. Jerk who taught me how to do all th'dances I know back in our socks in that tiny kitchen. Who picked me up when I threw myself down at every chance of a fight."

Steve doesn't know how much of it Bucky remembers, but that's alright. Steve will remember it for both of them. Will be there every time Bucky slides backwards. Every time he has a bad night. Just like Buck will be there for him.

"Who was strong enough to fight hell itself to remember me." He whispers finally and slips his eyes shut because of course Steve trusts Bucky to be this close. He wants to remember the feeling of those lips on his cheek until the day he dies. "Forget the wolf and the captain. I just--we can be just Bucky and Steve again." That line he doesn't know if he can back up. Doesn't know if they'll ever be just BUcky and Steve again. They've both changed so much since those days. But it's a thought, and it's one that shows Steve's dedication to the other.

Then again, so does the featherlight brush of his lips against Bucky's.

"Love you...."

((Wow, okay I am not dead! I"m so sorry this took me a while to get to. I might have re-watched a shitload of MCU over this last weekend to get back into Steve's head proper too.))

[Don't worry about it, it happens!]

"Yeah, that's right," Bucky agrees, laughing. He remembers, well.... almost everything, now. "Taught you all those dance moves so you could pick up a dame, didn't think I was seducin' ya," he teases, his expression all smiles, because it's easy to talk like this, to focus on what they should be instead of all of the shit that's happened between the two of them.

Especially the fact that he's come back from the dead. "I'll be Bucky for you. Just for you, I like it being just you 'n me," Bucky says easily, so close to the other man. He's not sure what he wants to do now, he really wants to sleep, wants to curl up in bed next to Steve, even if it's not a good idea, even if Steve is still healing and badly injured.

Steve brushes his lips against Bucky's, and all those thoughts vanish from his head as he presses into the kiss. It's gentle, because as much as he wants to pull Steve into a passionate kiss, he can do that later. Once he's healed.

"Me too. Love you back."

"I feel like we both knew I was never gonna get a dame to look at me back then."

How many times did the double dates Bucky would set up fall through? How many times did Steve end up playing third wheel until Bucky was kind enough to make an excuse and they'd duck out together? Even back then Steve looked at Bucky like he is now. They just couldn't talk about it. Couldn't do nothing about it and certainly couldn't expect the world to let them have it even if they wanted to.

Oh the times, they are a'changing.

Every move no matter how small still hurts and even this much talking is making Steve heavy with exhaustion again. He won't be bedridden for long--never is anymore-- but while he is recovering he still feels sluggish and sore. And yet, Steve Rogers has never felt better than he does right now. With a mouth he's studied for decades with art as his excuse finally touching his own.

"C'mere. I'll budge up like we used to." It must be a reckless and bad idea because Steve's echoing Buck's own thoughts aloud and grunting with the effort it takes him to shift on the bed. "Tell me about....'bout th'goats. Your garden if y'got one. I might doze off though but I wan't you here."

"Maybe not," Bucky agrees. He's hesitant, because as far removed from the 1940s as they are, something about the era in which he grew up remains in him, telling him confessing things so freely could get him into a world of hurt. How it could get him killed, arrested, institutionalized for the rest of his life. Even if he explained he found women attractive too.

Especially if he admitted that. "I think I woulda been jealous," Bucky admits, trying to be all flirty smiles, but meaning it. "Not that I could've admitted that to myself," but it's true, because he always found himself coming back to Steve at the end of the day. It didn't matter how gorgeous the dame was, because there was something about returning to the apartment with Steve in it every night, in the rickety old shared bed they used, that felt so right.

He doesn't hesitate when Steve asks to join him, sliding into the bed against Steve, spooning him happily. "I've got a little garden," he says after a while. "I have to keep it fenced in, otherwise the goats'll get in and eat all the vegetables. Sometimes they do anyway, brats." He sighs contentedly. "It's nice, the village outside of the city. Everyone helps each other out. Once a month, there's always a big potluck. I usually bring goat's milk and yams."

Hell, a doctor could walk in right now and yell at Bucky to get off of Steve's bed, and he's not sure his legs would listen to him. He's probably going to doze off right along with Steve.

Doubtless the doctors will be less than thrilled about the super soldier cuddle pile going on but if it keeps either man from thrashing out and hurting the staff accidentally in their nightmare induced panics then it's probably worth it. Besides, at least one is making bank on the bet that was going around concerning the nature of the White Wolf and the Captain's bond.

It isn't until Steve's being released from care that Shuri herself shows up. She's had her hands full making sure her brother and King is safe and well tended for and that comes ahead of friendships she's made with the first Broken White Boy to be placed under her care.

"I was told to advise the Captain that the King has arranged a place for him to stay, but I told him that wouldn't be necessary. Was I wrong, Bucky?" She's grinning up at him while they both wait outside Steve's room while he's given the privacy to change out of the hospital attire.

Bucky smiles wide at her comment. "You weren't wrong at all," he agrees, nodding. There's a part of him telling him he should be protecting Steve right now, even though they're in Wakanda. It's probably the safest nation on Earth for either of them, but old habits die hard.

"We might need a couple more solar lamps, though. I don't think Steve is aware I spend the entire day outside yet," he can help the grin. Being city boys meant that they were pretty far removed from the farm, even in the 20s. "Would the King be able to arrange that?"

Oh, the hunt is comfortable enough for him, the pallet assures that, but it's possible it'll be a little... dark. And Bucky understands the problems Steve might have with that, because there's a reason Bucky makes sure he has several of Wakanda's high-tech lamps with him in the hut.

Shuri smirks up at him from where she's leaning against the far wall, her arms crossed. T'challa's younger sister is quite young indeed but there's a mind in her that buzzes with activity and inspiration.

"I'm never wrong. Don't worry about the lamps. I'll see to it."

They won't be able to argue the semantics of that claim for long or Shuri's confidence in tending to Bucky's hut before Steve's pushing the door open and stepping out in a pair of jeans and a teeshirt. It took a bit of help but he's lost the beard and gotten his hair tidied up again after his years on the run. It's easy to see he's a lot more comfortable in his own skin again.

"I'd have worn something more traditional if you'd wanted--" Steve starts but Shuri's already holding up a hand and gesturing to her own teeshirt and jeans. "Believe me, I know you would have. But I like some solidarity in my preferred clothing choices and it seemed like a shame to deprive any of us from yours."

Tucking a shirt too small into fitted jeans? Yeah, Shuri approves of The Look. Steve's shoulders hitch up a bit and he has the decency to look a wee bit embarrassed to be called out on it. But he doesn't deny it either. Just looks over at Bucky to see if he's got an opinion here or a barb to throw at him for it.

"Thanks, Shuri," Bucky says, genuinely grateful. The girl is a genius, and has always been there for him. Hell, she's the one who was able to remove the brainwashing from his head. Bucky had been cheerful as it was, but now that he's face-to-face with Steve again, seeing the man brightens him, and he can't help how he openly looks up and down Steve's body deliberately.

"You can't rock the traditional look like I can, Stevie," Bucky says, smirking. He figures he has an excuse to show off a little, to get Steve's attention, and maybe a little bit of a flush on him.

He lays a hand on Steve's shoulder, looking up and down at his best friend's chest. "I think it's a good look," he says approvingly. "Traditional garb is looser, easier to move in, but I've gotta admit, I've always been a fan of your choice of clothing ever since you got taller."

Bucky can't help catching Shuri's gaze, winking at her.

Now that's a look Steve clearly hasn't been expecting from his lifelong pal, no matter what honey coated words they might have exchanged earlier. He still flushes bright red up to the tips of his ears--no longer too big for his head post serum but it's still really obvious. Flirting openly in front of someone else, giving Steve the same look he only gave very rarely to dames even back then, it's all so much.

"Your damn hand me downs never fit me right." Steve grumps though he's unable to look away. "Most of my life I was swimming in 'em, then after Erskine they were too small. Only time I ever had clothes that fit me was in the Army. And even then, lot of that was pretty tight too." He hasn't relaxed his shoulders any and that flush has only deepened on his cheeks.

"Got used to it." He likes it too, more than a little. Being able to show off like he never could Before. Steve's never been big on ego but he is only human. Sometimes its nice to get attention. Just, sometimes it's a bit more than he bargained for. Like now, but like hell he'd ever turn down attention from Bucky. It's the only thing he's wanted for so long.

"I was informed by Bucky here you would be staying with him for the remainder of your rest. Try not to overdo it, Captain. If you end up back here I'll be tempted to ask how well you were getting on." She catches Bucky's wink and grins cheekily. It's enough to make Steve sigh in defeat. He's too flustered to deal with being tag teamed.

"T-that uh. That's the plan. Yeah."

Bucky is more than happy to give Steve the attention he wants, smirking faintly. He won't get too into it, not now, even though a part of him thinks Shuri would actually be happy to watch White Wolf flirt with his boyfriend. "I think they always fit you just right," he says playfully. But he leaves it at that, happy to make sure Steve isn't completely embarrassed. He winks again, this time at Steve, before throwing an arm around his friend cheerfully.

"Let's get going, Stevie." It's honest and cheerful, because he gets to be with his best friend, with the most important person in the world. The hut is a ways away, and they'll need to drive if they're going to get there at a reasonable time. Sure, they could run, but Bucky promised Shuri he'd make Steve take it easy, so they'll be doing no racing back to their home today. Motorcycle seems the best way to do it, and his bike is parked close enough to the hospital that he doesn't think it's going to be a problem.

Bless Shuri and her thinking of everything, the girl has become a real friend to him in the past months. "I'm driving you back. We'll have to park a bit outside the farm, so we don't scare the animals, but it's all right. You'll get a good look at all the farm equipment we have to use around the farm." Bucky might just be in charge of his small herd of goats, but it's a job he takes seriously.

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Memento Mori (Infinity War Spoilers Here, not Nexus-compliant)

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