angst .

[colorfulsock]

ANGST MEME


Sometimes we all want to play some angst and see just how far our characters can and will fall.

- Post your characters, name and series in the subject along with any preferences.
- Go to random.org and roll.
- Play!


1. just depressed.
Things are tough, you're feeling worn out, or whatever the case, you're depressed. You need help or someone else thinks you do anyway.

2. abandoned.
You were left behind by everyone you hold dear and now you're forced to see how well they've adjusted, how happy they all are while you're screaming inside.

3. sick.
Cold, flu, or something even worse, all you can do is lay back and let someone take care of you.

4. fight.
You've been fighting nonstop with the other person and it just keep escalating.

5. break up.
You're being broken up with and they won't reconsider... Damn.

6. separated.
For some reason, you've been separated from the other person for a long time.

7. kidnapped.
You've been held captive for how long now? Maybe they've been torturing you even, using your blood to write ransom notes, threatening to cut off fingers to send next, etc. Rescue is on the way though, right?

8. beaten up.
Just because someone didn't like you or maybe they wanted something you had, whatever the case is, you're coming home sporting some nasty wounds and bruises.

9. jealousy.
You just have this undeniable jealousy suddenly and you need to let it out.

10. cheated on.
This goes beyond just suspicion and you have full on proof of what your lover has done. How do you handle it?

11. apathetic.
You're not sad, you're not happy, you just... don't feel much anymore. The sparkle of life has gone right out of you and you're just going through the motions now.

12. addicted.
Drugs, alcohol, whatever your drug of choice is, you can't fight the draw and you can't draw yourself out of the hole, but the other person is going to try.

13. bad romance.
You know this isn't good for either of you, but you can't stop now.

14. fear.
Nightmares, the feeling someone is following you, etc. You can't shake the feeling.

15. insanity.
You're seeing things and hearing them, waking up only to realize you've done things you don't remember or you're in a place you weren't before. You're losing it and you don't know what to do.

16. guilt.
It's eating you up inside and you have to tell someone about it now. You want to be punished and you won't take no for an answer.

17. loss
You've lost something dear to you.

18. wild card.
Combine some options or make your own!

Comments

[pastpermission]

"Maybe you should." The words slip out before he can hold them back. Maybe if he were the one frozen in a tank, he could forget about how he felt like a failure, like he let people down by being unable to prevent Thanos from winning. "I'm not a hero, Bucky." He balls his hands into fists, and he looks down on them, unable to keep the disdain from appearing on his face. Maybe he should have just stayed the skinny little guy with asthma and a laundry list of health problems. "I was a glorified show dog before I was anything else. What's so heroic about that?"

He did some things to redeem himself, or so he thinks, but that all seems like fairly small potatoes in the grand scheme of things. Even being an Avenger doesn't mean very much when there's things like the destruction that happened in Sokovia to consider. This isn't a conversation he wants to have with Bucky, not now that he's just gotten his best friend back.

"We shouldn't be talking like this right now. I just got you back, and this is the welcome I'm giving you?" He looks down again when Bucky grabs his hand, but he can't stay there for long. Pulling away, he drops into the nearest chair, because he can't think about what Bucky's asking him. He knows the people he's been leading are capable; he knows what they can do. But it feels too much like shirking his responsibilities if he even takes one hour away from them.

And at least when he's working, he can keep his mind occupied with other things. He can't do that when he's home alone with no one to talk to. It scares him, but he can't even say that without making himself feel even more inadequate than he already does. It's a strange thought process to have; he knows he's a leader, but he knows he's also failed in so many ways. Leaders aren't supposed to fail.

"I can't, Buck." He can't smile, he can't lower the shield. Hell, he doesn't even know if he can be Captain America anymore. "If I'm not Captain America, then who am I?"

The sad thing is, he knows the answer to that isn't anything he wants to see.

[not_without_you]

What happened while he was gone? Bucky can't begin to fathom all of it if it's left Steve this broken and hollowed out. Or had this started before that? Bucky had been so busy clawing his own identity back, had he not noticed Steve losing his own? It hurt to see. It hurt to know that Steve had been fracturing in front of all these people and no one had pulled him away and taped him back up.

Bucky walks to Steve's chair and stands at his knees. His hands press into his shoulders to encourage him to look up, but it's not necessary. Bucky is going to say this one way or another.

Steve was more than his shield. He was more than a hero and a symbol and a soldier. He was so much more even if no one saw it. Even if Steve didn't see it. But starting there would be like teaching a kid to count by explaining infinity. Too much too fast.

He starts simple.

"You're mine. That's what you are. Before Captain America. During Captain America. After Captain America. You're mine, Steve.

"I put a claim on you when we were brat kids and I'm not letting it go. So there it is. You wanna know who you are if you strip everything away? You're my friend. my Steve. And I'm trying to take care of him right now. Captain America is gettin' in the way."

[pastpermission]

Steve would be the first to say that it's not up to Bucky, or anyone else for that matter, to keep him going. In life, sacrifices have to be made, and really, in spite of how down he might be feeling now, that all goes away when he sees people getting to live their lives. It's not a perfect example, but he thinks of Clint and his family. Sure, he took house arrest over the less desirable alternative, but he has a family. And they're mostly happy too, the being under arrest thing aside. It's for people like that that Steve makes his sacrifices, however high the cost.

When Bucky comes to stand in front of him and places his hands on his shoulders, Steve just lowers his head more. He can't look his friend in the eyes right now. He's too afraid of what he'll see there. No one was ever supposed to see him like this, but he can't take this all back now.

"I know I am," he mumbles to his knees, still keeping his gaze turned downwards. "At least, I know that much." Even when he was a skinny little idiot getting beaten up in alleys, he and Bucky were friends. More than friends, they were like brothers. It's rare and short-lived, but in moments like this, Steve still feels like that skinny kid he used to be. Sure, he's not really that kid anymore, at least not physically, but mentally?

There's still a part of him that's the him before all this happened, and definitely before he fell into the ice to be frozen for seventy years. It's the him that wants to grab onto Bucky like a lost kid and never let go.

Finally, he forces himself to look the other man in the eyes, sitting up straight and squaring his shoulders. He's not that scrawny kid anymore. He has responsibilities, and he can't afford to wallow in regrets or guilt. "Thanks, Bucky, but you really don't have to take care of me." He knows it's not what he wants to hear, but he can take care of himself. Just because he hasn't been lately doesn't mean he doesn't know how.

[not_without_you]

"I've never had to do a damn thing in my life. You think that I do any of this because I have to? Like you're some sort of obligation I got stuck with that I can't shake off? I do this because I want to. I want to take care of you. Hell, I like it, honestly. It helps me remember who I am. When I'm trying real hard not to be an ex-assassin or a broken shell that tumbles along looking for something to fill the void. You do that. You remind me of what's important."

Bucky doesn't know what else to do. Steve is a stubborn bastard, but that's nothing that he hasn't known before. He bends forward and presses his lips to Steve's forehead, fingertips stroking over his jawline as though memorizing it by touch. As if he didn't already know this by heart. He pulls back an inch, looking down at Steve's face and feeling the pull to kiss him hard. To say the things he's never told his friend. Maybe that would make a difference.

But he can't. Not with Steve not even conceding enough to sleep. Stubborn punk. But maybe...just maybe he can use that to his advantage. It was a Hail Mary pass, but he could try.

"And, hey. You might be mine, but I'm yours too. And you don't have to take care of me, but you do anyways. Which, speakin' of. If you want me to lay down at all, I'm gonna need you next to me. I came back from the dead and there is no way I'm not gonna have nightmares. So there. That's our responsibility for the moment, Cap. Hm?"

He smiles down at him, then looks over at his abandoned eggs. "I should say that we eat that, too, but I'm not gonna press my luck. If I can get both of us horizontal with eyes shut, that's enough for one day."

[pastpermission]

Steve's shoulders drop further, seemingly with every word. That weight he carries with him all the time is back with a vengeance, and Bucky's reproach is adding to it. He tries not to let it show, because he knows he's right, even if he has a hard time admitting to it. They're friends, and they're with each other to the end of the line. That's what they've always said, and it's not any less true now.

"I'm sorry, I really am. This isn't- It's not how I pictured this happening." Yes, he's pictured what it would be like for Bucky to come back, and it wasn't like this. "It's just that you could have a life too, besides just taking care of me." But then, Steve chuckles. "I don't think either of us know what it looks like to not take care of each other. You've been doing that for me for as long as I can remember." Minus some blank spaces in their histories that he doesn't like to think about.

A sigh of longing escapes Steve before he can stop it. The feel of Bucky's lips on his head feels amazing, like it's the best sensation in the world. He tilts his head back so that he can drink in Bucky's features that he knows like the back of his own hand. He's never looked this good, even when dog-tired and recently returned from the dead.

Suddenly, Steve realizes just how tired he is. He's known that for awhile now, but it's just come crashing back down on him. Maybe having Bucky here with him will be enough to get him to sleep, at least for a little while. "Okay. I think I can try to sleep if you're with me." And he hopes he can do the same for his best friend.

"It's gotten cold by now. Sorry about that. You went through the trouble of making them, and I didn't even eat them." He shakes his head reproachfully at himself, even though he's aware he's not really in the mood for eating. But for Bucky, he'd try to force down a few bites. Still, baby steps, or so they say.

[not_without_you]

That sigh is what gives Bucky his next idea. Talking isn't working. Talking is only making things worse. They needed less of that and more of them just being close. Getting to know one another again. Reassuring each other that they were here and the worst days were finally behind them. Even if it was a lie, it was a kind one that they could tell to each other over and over until it just stopped being true again. God, he hoped that day never came.

But for now, they were here. Bucky says nothing as he leans and kisses the top of his forehead again. His hands trail to Steve's, holding them tight, and then pulling him up and toward his body. "C'mon..." And that's all as he smiles lightly and starts to lead them both down to the bed. They've shared beds before. This wouldn't be weird even without their traumas weighing down on them.

The bed is messy. It's the middle of the night, after all, even if Steve isn't sleeping. Bucky pulls Steve over to the side and pushes him gently into a seated position.

"Stay there."

Bucky just needs to kick his shoes off. Needs to pull off this old uniform that he no longer needs. There's no more war. He doesn't need armor. It all falls to the floor until he's left wearing just his boxers and a toothy grin.

"Remember that night? Right around your birthday when the heatwave came? We both were just in our skivvies, tryin' to stay cool. I finally just had to dump you in the cold bath before you passed out from it all. Imagine if we had a/c then..."

He laughs and crawls over Steve to lay on the side that is now claimed as his own. It's easy then to pull Steve closer to him, a blanket draped over their waists. Not too warm or to cold just yet.

His arm snakes around Steve's middle.

"This alright?" He presses another kiss to his temple. " 's good? Think you can sleep?"

[pastpermission]

All of this is getting filed away in Steve's mind, because he wants to remember this. He doesn't want to remember the guilt and regret and a hundred other negative emotions. He just wants to remember Bucky, and the way Bucky's hands feel when they're on his. "You don't have to tell me twice." He'd follow Bucky anywhere, even right into the path of danger if it meant staying with him.

He lets himself get pushed down onto the bed, sitting there while Bucky removes his shoes and uniform. It feels so good to just sit for once; to sit and to not have to do anything except watch the most important person in his life to date moving around.

"Yeah, I remember. How could I forget? That was one of the worst nights ever. It was so uncomfortable." Actually, "uncomfortable" describes his entire life before becoming the man he is now. That laundry list of health problems is the main reason, but being beaten up in alleys wasn't exactly a picnic either. "That cold bath was a lifesaver." And he means that in more ways than one.

Finally when Bucky lies down next to him, he lets himself relax a bit, and he allows the other man to reel him in. Closeness like this feels good, like it's something they've been doing their entire lives. And when that arm snakes around him, he shudders involuntarily, a response indicating pleasure.

"It's definitely all right." He closes his eyes in response to that kiss, and he instinctively slides in closer as if wordlessly asking for more. "I'm not sure, but at least I can relax as long as you're around." That's more than he's been able to do lately, so he'll take it.

[not_without_you]

Bucky grins and lightly flicks at Steve's nose when he tilts over toward him after the kiss. "You're like a cat lookin' for pets. I ever tell you that?" He had. Years ago. It was strange that people held such assumptions about when they grew up and what was and wasn't normal for men. In many ways it had been much easier, then. People minded their own business more often than not and there was far less need for men to prove their own masculinity. Being close and touching wasn't seen as suspicious. It had been a godsend for someone like Bucky who's preferences swung both ways. Who was in love with his best friend and was being destroyed by the weight of it all.

Back then Bucky would pull Steve close. Wrap an arm around him or teasingly pull him onto the dance floor to make the gals they were with laugh. And even though the winter brought with it the risk of a flu that would take Steve out for good, Bucky loved the colder nights when he could wrap himself around Steve like a friendly octopus under the pretense of keeping him warm. Sort of like he was now.

He needs no encouragement to raise one of his hands and brush Steve's hair back in an easy, soothing gesture. He leans back in and kisses him again. He almost can't stop, now that the line has been crossed and the precedent set. He pecks slowly along his temple, into his hairline, onto his forehead, whatever he can reach. Part of him wants to go down his neck and toward his shoulder, but even with their closeness, that crosses a very definite line that he shouldn't go near when they're both exhausted and traumatized from yet another fucking disaster darkening their doors.

He keeps on petting though. His nose brushes against his skin between the pecks, practically a nuzzle, were he to put a bit more enthusiasm behind it. As it is, it stays light and lazy.

"God. It's been a long time since I was able to have you close, like this." His free hand moves and settles over Steve's steady heart. The pulse almost makes him want to cry. "Before, I'd stay like this. You had that...that thing. That made your heartbeat funny. I'd be so nervous some nights. You had no idea how I worried over you..."

[pastpermission]

Steve can't help but laugh when Bucky flicks his nose. "Hey, now, I don't claw up all your furniture. Or my furniture, I guess. I like to think I'm better behaved than a cat is." He does his best to push out his lip and look like he's fake-pouting. This feels good right now, to be able to laugh and joke as if everything's normal. As if he's not doing everything he can to keep from splintering into a thousand pieces. The laughter helps, but one bout of laughing isn't going to fix the damage instantly.

"This feels good, Bucky. When did you get so good at this? Oh, wait, you're the guy who had no trouble getting all the girls." And that thought makes him sober up a bit, because he still thinks he remembers seeing Bucky's disappointed face when Peggy completely overlooked him. It was a long time ago now, but some things he just can't forget. "I guess you learned a thing or two about how to keep them happy." And if he's sticking with the cat theme, if he were one, he'd be purring right about now.

He wants Bucky's hands on him, to feel him touching his hair, his skin, everything. He's never realized before this moment how much he wants this. Bucky's attentions have him so thoroughly distracted that it takes him a moment to realize he's latching onto the other man with both hands, holding on as if he'll never let go. When that realization hits, he relaxes his grip, not wanting to accidentally hurt Bucky by putting on too much pressure.

Steve lets out another long sigh as if expelling all the stress, fear, and worry as he does so. He wants to say he's always imagined what it would be like to have Bucky the way he does right now, but the words just won't come. Maybe the Captain America persona has become too ingrained in him to know where Steve Rogers ends and the Captain begins. But one thing he knows is that he desperately wants Bucky close to him right now, and forever, if they can manage that much. "You know, when they told me about the Strategic Scientific Reserve, I thought it was too good to be true. But I also really wanted it, because-"

This is the part where he hesitates. He's not accustomed to being this open with someone about his most private thoughts. Even though this is Bucky Barnes, the man he's known for almost forever, he still worries about what he might think if he says too much. So instead of finishing that sentence right away, he just shifts a bit so that he can lean his head against Bucky's shoulder. He's tired, despite his protests of being fine, and now he just wants to rest next to his best friend.

"I wanted to stop being sick all the time, and I wanted to be like you." And he wanted to serve his country like so many other men were doing. That was never up for debate.

[not_without_you]

Bucky doesn't say anything about the gals comment. He doesn't want to give himself away because, honestly, he'd never done stuff like this with those women. He'd liked them. Liked their bodies and what they could do for him. But this? This tenderness was something that he saved for Steve alone. Steve who got all of his heart for all of Bucky's life. So he says nothing. Up until the little punk keeps talking.

He can't help but laugh at that, even though it's not funny at all.

"You wanted to be like me? Shit, Rogers. I wanted to be like you. Even more now, honestly. I'd never met anybody like you. You came outta your Ma with your morals and values tattooed on your heart. Rather have the snot beat outta you than concede an inch on any of it. Rather die than let down a friend."

Bucky isn't sure what he's doing. But he pushes Steve onto his back, looking over him like an owl. A gentle owl though. Bucky brushes at Steve's hair, expression muddled but affectionate as he does so.

"I'm so glad you're not sick. Real glad. More than you'll ever know. But I don't want you to ever be like me. You're...real perfect, Stevie. The world needs more of you. Not more of me."

He wants to kiss him, then. It might show with how Bucky's eyes flicker down to Steve's lips. He rolls back over, yanking Steve close so his head can lay over his heart, if Steve wanted to.

So he can't see his face which is masked but flushed, staring at the chipped paint that's on the ceiling.

"Stubborn as a mule, though. Also a real moron when it comes to takin' care of yourself. Not to mention that you're probably still trash at talkin' to the fairer sex. And on the topic of sex ..." Bucky forces out a laugh and rubs his knuckles against Steve's scalp, showing he's teasing.

"I guess. Yeah, other than that pretty perfect."

[pastpermission]

Steve wouldn't know any better anyway. Back then, no one paid him any mind. He was too skinny, too sick, and too irrelevant in the grand scheme for anyone to look twice at him. But Bucky had. Bucky always had. It never seemed to bother his friend that he was just a skinny little twerp with a liking for getting beaten up in alley fights.

"I did. I really did, Buck. You had everything I thought I wanted. You were a sergeant, everyone loved you, and I wanted that too. But more than that, I just wanted to go help fight overseas." It ate at him that he tried so hard to get enlisted, and no one would even consider him. Granted, now he can see why he wouldn't have been a good candidate, but he desperately wanted it all those years ago.

"I was a goody two shoes, and you know it. What good did getting thrown around in alleys do? Those guys were just bullies, and I couldn't lie down and let them have it all their way, but-" He shakes his head. He thought he'd been standing on principle, but it seems all a little bit foolish in hindsight. "That part, though. That's never going to change." If someone becomes his friend, then they're his friend for life, and he'll go through hell and back for them. That is not up for discussion.

He lets Bucky push him down onto his back, and he stares up at his best friend as if drinking him in, memorizing his features that he already knows so well. "Stop that, Bucky. You're a great man. You've always been a great man. And you know what else?" He smiles, a real genuine smile that reaches his eyes and makes the corners of them crinkle up. "You were always my hero."

And if Bucky kissed him right then, he wouldn't object. The amount of affection and downright love he has for this man can't be expressed with just words. But then his friend keeps on talking.

"I- uh. I just didn't have a lot of practice with that." With any of it; with caring for himself, with talking to women, with sex. None of it was what he was good at. What he knows is how to throw himself into something, drown himself in it, and hope he comes out somewhat intact in the end. That's what's gotten him into this whole mess in the first place.

It might be difficult to see in the relative darkness of the room, but there's a tinge of red on Steve's face.

"Thanks, pal. I could say the same for you, except in your case, you're-" He pauses, not sure how best to put this. "You're all perfect." Even with the skeletons in Bucky's closet because of the things he's been through, he's still perfect in Steve's eyes. Those things that might be considered weaknesses are what sets him apart. If he could, he'd undo the bad things that have been done to his best friend, but since he can't, he's just determined to embrace them all, the good and the bad.

[not_without_you]

Bucky's face went from relaxed and pleased to tense with those few words. He frowns, staring at Steve with this sad, confused look on his face. How could he be so wrong about this? How could he even say this? "Steve..." He shifts and tilts his head so he can look at his friend straight on again. "How can you possibly think that I am all perfect. I got blood on my hands that can never come clean. Hell, I killed a sitting president, Stevie."

He wants to pull away. He wants to curl in on himself and protect Steve from the taint he brings to their friendship. And he does. No matter what his friend says, Bucky is tainted. He's done unspeakable things. Killed. Maimed. So many unforgivable acts and Steve doesn't even know all of them. He doesn't even know all the ones that Bucky had done in America alone. It makes him sick. It makes him want to jump off a tall building and end everything. But he knows that Steve would fall apart. Christ, he's seeing it now, firsthand.

But that doesn't stop him from wanting to. Or thinking deep down that he deserves it. Or worse.

He exhales slowly and shakes his head, his hand smoothing over Steve's head and cheek. Timelines shift and merge and memories ooze up, right under his palm. "I punched you right here. I nearly killed you. And you can say all day how that wasn't me...but it was these hands and I remember it. I remember what it felt like." He exhales, the sound rattling like Steve's used to.

"I'm not perfect. God, I can't even believe that I was your hero. You're the hero, pal. You've always been the hero. America's hero. My hero..."

He leans in, pressing their foreheads together as he tries to push the thoughts and the memories away. Part of him misses where he'd been for that one, timeless eternity. There had been no pain there. But there had also been no Steve.

He'd always come back for Steve.

Bucky sighed and reached out, wrapping Steve up once more. "I'm not perfect. But thank you, all the same. It...means something that you even thought I was for a second."

[pastpermission]

Steve picks up on Bucky's change in demeanor, and he shifts slightly so he can get a better look at his friend. He knows what's running through his mind, but even with all the bad things he knows his friend has done, he still can't forget that this is Bucky Barnes, the man he idolized all those years ago. Knowing the atrocities he's committed does give him pause, but he's read the case file for the Winter Soldier. And right there is an important distinction that Steve has always been determined to keep in mind. The Winter Soldier did all those terrible things, not James Buchanan Barnes.

So, yes, he will say all day how that wasn't him. "I can think that you're all perfect because I know the man that you are. What happened to you doesn't change how I feel about you, not in my book." He reaches for Bucky, wanting to pull the other man close again. What he needs is Bucky's companionship, but also he needs Bucky's physical presence. He needs to be reminded that Bucky is there with him. "And before you say I'm being delusional, believe me, I know you've had bad things happen to you and that you've done bad things."

There's a look of something similar to desperation in Steve's eyes as he looks at Bucky. He needs to know he hasn't lost his best friend. "I know what your hands have done, and it doesn't matter. What you did to me doesn't matter. I forgave you for it as soon as it happened." He doesn't mean to trivialize the other atrocities Bucky has committed, but as far as the ones that concern him directly, he's forgotten them and doesn't think about them anymore.

"You've been through hell, and you're still here. Not many men can say the same." He lets Bucky wrap him up in an embrace again, and some of the tension he's been feeling leaves him as he does so. "It was more for a second. I've thought that for as long as I've known you." Yes, it's a blind spot, and yes, people don't understand it, but nothing's going to get him to change his mind.

[not_without_you]

Only Steve Rogers could look at someone like him and see a hero. Bucky's hands were so stained with blood they'd never come clean again for as long as he lived. He'd hurt Steve. He'd hurt and killed so many people, but he'd hurt Steve. It was like blasphemy to him, harming the man he'd cared for his entire life. And to know he'd been forgiven for it? Immediately? Only Steve Rogers could do any of that. And, God, Bucky loves him so much for it. Loves him so goddamn much. He almost can't even breathe for a second, the force of all that love choking him up. He does the only thing he can think of and turns Steve toward him, tangling up their limbs in an attempt to get even closer than before.

"You're incredible, do you know that?" Bucky smiles and kisses Steve on the forehead. His hands are so soft as he runs one up and down Steve's side, crossing lines he had before but never since coming back from the dead. It feels familiar and strange all at the same time. His arm curls around Steve's waist and pulls them flush. It's then that he turns them both, keeping the lack of distance as he maneuvers Steve onto his back, Bucky blanketing him.

This too is familiar from a different time. Bucky wants so badly to slip into it again, but he knows that will be taking advantage. Steve doesn't need that. He just needs comfort. And Bucky is going to give that to him.

His fingertips are soft, brushing hair out of Steve's eyes and then just stroking against the skin there. Tracing over an eyebrow. Ghosting over his cheek and jaw. He bends down and kisses Steve's forehead once more. Then just props his head up on one hand as he continues to caress in the most soothing ways he can imagine. It's hard from a long few decades of lost experience. But he remembers a feverish, tiny boy curled up in a mattress needing someone to help him rest. It's like riding a bike.

"You're so incredible. Most bloody-minded man I know in the whole world to still feel that way about me. But that's why you're the best. My freaking hero. From womb to the tomb, pal. You're always going to be my hero."

He smirks a bit wider, thumb brushing the corner of his lip.

"And you need some rest, Stevie. Alright? So close those eyes. I'm here. And I'm not leaving you again."

[pastpermission]

His whole life, Steve has always tried to see the best in people. There were a few exceptions; those bullies who kicked and punched him in those alleys on Pearl Street were one of them. But once, when he'd encountered the bullies being bullied, he couldn't stop himself from stepping in. No one deserved to be bullied. Steve firmly believed that. It was something he refused to compromise on, just like he refused to compromise on the fact that Bucky was a hero: his hero. In his fevered dreams during the worst of his sicknesses, he always dreamed of Bucky, who always came to save him.

And, truth be told, even back then, he knew he was a little bit in love with the handsome man who would go on to become a sergeant in the army. Was it appropriate in the eyes of people back then? Not at all, but Steve didn't care. He wasn't shouting it from the rooftops, but he knew what he felt, and that was good enough for him. His thoughts are interrupted by Bucky's hands turning him so they're facing each other, and he tilts his head up so he can look right into Bucky's eyes.

"Am I? I thought I was just someone falling apart at the seams." He tries to make light of his mental state, and how far it's deteriorated since encountering Thanos. His head tips back again as Bucky kisses him and touches him with those hands that he knows so well. Steve allows himself to be turned again, this time so he's lying on his back, eyes still trained on his best friend.

"Bucky, please-" He so rarely uses that word. Captain America doesn't beg or make requests. He gives orders. But now, he's not Captain America. He's just Steve. "Don't go." The words feel sad leaving his mouth, pathetic even, but he never wants to lose Bucky again. He doesn't want to wake up the next day and find that all of this was a dream brought on by his deep, desperate longing.

Bucky's right in that Steve wants and needs comfort. He spends so much time being the rock for others, but he has no rock of his own. At least, the person who would be that for him keeps getting torn away, and now he knows he doesn't know how to live with that.

He craves more of everything that Bucky's doing, even as some small amount of agitation creeps back in to take hold of him again; but his need for more physical contact, more intimate, gentle touches to his face all but drowns that out. Now there's no need for boundaries or posturing. There's just the two of them, and it's all he could have ever wanted, and then some.

"Nothing will ever get me to change the way I see you, Bucky." Steve is confident in that fact. It's unshakable, set in stone. But, almost as soon as Bucky says those words about needing rest, Steve feels his eyes beginning to grow heavy beneath the other man's attentions. But as he feels a wave of exhaustion sweeping over him, beginning to pull him down into sleep, his eyes snap open again, a brief flash of worry evident in them.

"You're going to be here when I wake up." It's not a question, but it's said as if it were a fact. He needs it to be a fact.

[not_without_you]

Steve is at the end of his rope now. He's so worn out and desperately, emotionally exhausted that even Bucky is feeling it as though it were his own. His question...his statement, actually. It hurts Bucky deep in his heart. Fuck, what Steve has gone through. First the train. Then his lost memories. Then the deep freeze. Now disintegrating before his eyes. Steve has lost Bucky so many ways. Of course he's going to be terrified of it happening again. Bucky would be, too. God, he doesn't know if he'd ever be able to sleep again.

"I am going to be here. From now on. Alright, sweetheart?"

The word just falls out of him. But far from being embarrassed, it feels right. It feels like the sort of tenderness that Steve needs right now. Not handling him with kid-gloves but just moving the line of acceptable behavior for them both so that it included this new level of close intimacy. Still looming over Steve, Bucky bends forward and kisses him on the forehead, hand still smoothing over his hair and his face.

His first instinct is to pull Steve close and hold him tight. Show him that he's here and that Bucky's got him. But as he thinks more about it, he's not sure that's what his friend really needs. So instead, Bucky lays down, his head resting right next to Steve's neck, breath tickling against it.

"Hold me," he orders gently. His own arms wrap around Steve's middle, tight and possessive. He's still practically on top of the other man, but they're both strong and they can more than handle this. He settles in closer, stroking up and down Steve's side.

"Hold on tight to me. Alright? I'm not gonna go anywhere without you knowing it. Okay? Just hold on tight and don't let me go. You can sleep, then, right? You've got me right here. Right here with you.... Waiting to make you pancakes when you finally wake up again, sweetheart. Maybe even with chocolate chips if you're good and get twelve hours. Deal?"

[pastpermission]

He knows he'd be lying if he said those things weren't haunting him, but the truth is, they are, and he feels bad about it. "You know what, Buck?" There's something he has to say now before he passes out and sleeps for twelve hours, or twenty-four hours, or however long he ends up sleeping. "There's no one else out there who's like you. And you know what else? There's no one else out there that I want to be with more." Oh, he misses Peggy terribly, but he missed his chance with her. She's gone to her reward now, and no amount of pining is going to bring her back. Not that he'd want to.

So that leaves him and Bucky. He doesn't want the other man to think he's settling, because nothing could be further from the truth. Bucky's been with him since day one, and that means the world to Steve.

"I like it when you call me that," he mumbles quietly, trying to move in a little closer to Bucky. This takes him back to when he was that sick kid in Brooklyn, and Bucky would stay up with him on the worst nights. He does as requested, putting his hands on Bucky and wrapping his arms around him.

"Thanks, Buck, you're a pal." He's starting to drift off, and a relaxed smile gradually creeps onto his face. "I think I can sleep now." There's a brief pause, and then Steve, who's almost fully asleep now, adds one more thing: "Pancakes sound great."

[not_without_you]

Bucky's heart melts as he hears those words. He waits until Steve is fully asleep to look up at his friend, love pouring out of every piece of his body. He strokes his hand against his friend's waist, thinking over what he'd said. How there was no one else out there that Steve wanted to be with more. How he was a real pal. But one that liked it when Bucky called him 'sweetheart'.

"You're a confusing guy, know that, Rogers?"

But he's smiling. His head turns, kissing along his chest just because he's asleep and Bucky can. But then his own exhaustion catches up to him and it's all he can do to reestablish his grip before he falls into a deep slumber, Steve's heart giving it all a steady soundtrack. The reliable thud of the most important person in Bucky's life.

He sleeps calmly for hours. It's no surprise to him that, when he wakes up, it's late in the afternoon and he's still very, very tired. He blinks a moment, aware enough that he didn't wake up himself but not quite sure yet what had caused it. That doesn't last long, though. He can feel Steve's unease before he sees or hears it. When he turns, he can recognize a nightmare written all over Steve's face. And it breaks his heart a little, knowing that he is so close and not able to do anything.

Bucky shifts up, reaches out and cradles Steve's head in his hands. "Steve," he tries, keeping his voice calm and low. "Stevie, sweetheart. Wake up, alright? I'm right here. C'mon punk. I'm right here. I promised I wasn't goin' anywhere and I haven't. So open those eyes, soldier... That's an order..."

[pastpermission]

Those words fall on deaf, sleeping ears. Steve's out like a light, finally relaxing in sleep. The mask he wears during his waking hours has all but slipped away, taking with it the worry lines, the frown lines, and the stern expression he adopts as Captain America. He seems almost peaceful, knowing that even while he's asleep, his best friend in all the world is right there next to him.

But then the hours pass, and peace turns into dread and fear as Steve's dreams shift into nightmares. He tenses unconsciously, one hand gripping the sheets so tightly that his knuckles turn white. An involuntary gasp bursts from his mouth, and he jerks wildly in his sleep, but he doesn't wake up. The nightmare has him firmly in its grasp, and he doesn't even register the feel of Bucky's hands on his face, nor the words that he's saying to him.

"No! No, you can't..." Steve's voice sounds anguished, as if he's begging whoever it is he's dreaming about not to do something. "Don't go. You said you wouldn't." There's a pause in which Steve goes quiet, and for the next few seconds, the only sound is the sound of his troubled breathing.

[not_without_you]

Christ alive. The nightmare is about him.

Bucky can't be upset. He can't waste the time. He moves in and pulls Steve closer to him, wrapping him up in his arms. He presses his mouth against his ear and whispers into it, hoping they'll reach his brain. "Steve. Steve, I'm here. I am here and I'm not leaving you again. You hear me? I'm right here and I'm holding you. I'm not going to let you outta my sights, punk. Never again."

He kisses his cheek. His forehead. Anything that he can reach. Except perhaps the most obvious place, that is. Bucky hesitates, not wanting to step over any lines. But Steve is clearly in a hell of his own making. So Bucky leans in and kisses him firmly on the lips, just once, pulling away to rest their foreheads together.

"C'mon man. I'm right here. Come back to me and I'll show you that I'm still here for you, sweetheart. I'm back. C'mon Stevie. Come back to me."

[pastpermission]

It's not the first time, but it is the first time he's had a nightmare about Bucky while lying next to Bucky. His eyebrows furrow and his face twists with despair as the nightmare drags along, taking him with it. When Bucky pulls him in, he tries to thrash against his strong arms, but he fails.

It seems like it takes an eternity, but the calming words eventually penetrate Steve's stressed brain, and with a long sigh, he falls limply into the other man's arms. A few more seconds pass, and as his breathing regulates, his eyes slowly open.

Disoriented at first, Steve sounds confused. "Buck?" Then the recollection of the nightmare he just had returns to him. "Sorry you had to see that."

[not_without_you]

"Don't you dare apologize. Don't you dare."

He releases his hold, giving Steve room to breathe. Bucky sits up and reaches out to press his hand against Steve's neck, both for comfort and to monitor his pulse. "It's okay. It's okay, Stevie. I'm right here. I've seen you worse off. This is nothing, sweetheart. A little bad dream? Don't you remember the night you got that stomach flu? Way worse than this..."

Bucky wants to get Steve water but he knows leaving now might put him into a spiral. SO instead he just keeps his hand where it is, looking all over his face in order to get some sort of read on how Steve is doing. Christ, it hurts that the dream was about him. But it makes sense. Someone can only take so much before they start breaking at the seams.

"Breathe for me, pal. Slow. Just like you used to with the asthma. Nice and slow..."

[pastpermission]

Steve just looks up at Bucky, not sure how to respond to that. He has so much to apologize for, including disrupting his sleep again because of a dumb nightmare. His pulse is rabbiting at a pace that's much too fast, but he's trying to relax, trying to calm his rapid breathing. Instinctively, he leans into Bucky's touch, even as he considers pulling away.

He's a mess and he knows it, but he doesn't need to drag Bucky down with him too. "Honestly, Bucky, why do you put up with me? You've said you don't get tired of looking after me, but you've looked out for me my whole life." Something akin to guilt pricks his conscience; he's not the only one in this room who's made sacrifices. "I just mean- Thanks. Thanks for everything. I haven't told you that enough."

And then having said that, he lets out a sigh, his shoulders slump forward, and his gaze drops to just stare down at the tangled sheets. It looks and feels pathetic, but his nerves are rattled, despite his attempts to settle back down. "Do you ever wish things were the way they used to be?"

[not_without_you]

That's a complicated question and Bucky has no idea what to do with it at first. He considers it. Considers what Steve probably expects to hear. Then, because he's not having this conversation like his, he shifts in the bed to crouch in front of Steve on his knees. He reaches out and grabs his hands in his, holding onto them tight.

"Yeah. I wish things were easier, again. I wish all we had to worry about was money and your meds instead of saving the entire universe. But...I don't want you going back to how sick you were. You have no idea how bad that was for me. Each flu was like watching you go to death's door. I still hate the winter because of it. Which...I guess is pretty funny, considering." It's not actually funny, but Bucky has a warped sense of humor.

"But...we can't go back. And even if we could...there's a lot about this time that is amazing. You have friends who care about you. A nation who adores you. You're...the guy I always knew you would be if people looked at you right. And me? I get to stand beside you every step of the way. It's...perfect for me. Because no, I don't get tired of looking after you. Steve..."

He's died twice now. Nearly died once more on top of that and went back into an indefinite freeze on top of that. How many times is he going to miss this shot? How many until the clock truly runs out?

Bucky inhales and moves closer, grabbing Steve's head between his hands instead, now.

"You don't 'put up' with people you love, punk. Understand? I don't put up with you. You mean everything to me, Steve.

"You are everything to me."

[pastpermission]

"I knew you'd say that," Steve replies, looking down at their hands that are intertwined together. "Things were a lot simpler back then. Kind of happier too, huh?" He chuckles, but it's half-hearted. "I wouldn't take being sick all the time, but you know, at least I knew you'd-"

He stops himself there, because what he was about to say isn't fair to Bucky. It's not his fault they keep getting dealt bad hands. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm good with how things are." Mostly. "And, yeah, there's some stuff I could do without, but I've got you back, and that's good enough for me." He squeezes Bucky's hands in his, hoping he conveys just how much he means that in that simple gesture.

"I meant it when I said there's no one else I'd rather be with." Steve knows he might have to be reminded once in awhile that Bucky's with him because he wants to be, not just because he's putting up with him. But what he knows without question is that he wants Bucky with him till the end of the line.