The Truth Hurts.

[onlyforthedream]

It's been three days since I've seen Bucky, and that's enough. I leave the house with the sole intention of finding him, preferably without bringing Natalia or Jason into it- what's about to happen is between the two of us, and I don't want to answer questions, nor do I want to set him up to be asked any. By all accounts, the influence that caused people to speak out against their will should have passed, and I find myself somehow disinclined to wait around for Bucky to come to me. I find Virginia in her stall, which is all the evidence I need of his return, and set off for the house, hoping to find it empty of anyone but him, for convenience's sake. When I don't find him there I strike out for the beach. Bucky's not an easy man to track, and I'm more counting on the general region, knowing his schedule, and the size of the island than anything so obvious as a telling trail of partial footprints and snapped palm fronds.

I can hear the ocean through the trees though I can't see it yet, and it's pushing through some low hanging vines and stepping onto a relatively clear swath of dirt that I find him.

"Bucky."

Comments

[onlyapassenger]

"Steve."

At the sound of his old friend's voice, it's hard for Bucky not to want to run again. Though he bears no physical traces of his sojourn spent roughing it in the jungle, having already used the morning to clean himself up, the mental ones haven't yet disappeared. He's still angry for being manipulated by this island's invisible forces, his skin all but humming with it, but the bulk of his ire is directed more squarely on himself, and the fact that he outright told Steve he'd be lying to the man whenever the time would come for them to speak after the puppet strings had been cut anew.

Casting a glance to the immediate area, Bucky can't help but feel like an animal; they're surrounded by trees at all sides, not a prison, per se, but enough of a barrier to produce a nagging sense of claustrophobia. There are plenty of ways out of here, sure, but none that come with consequences he's ready to live with. He's unwittingly painted himself into a corner, yet Bucky knows he needs to stand his ground.

His shoulders squared, he turns around to face Steve, and summons up a smile that'd make the Cheshire cat sit up and take notice. He holds his hands out to his sides in a careless shrug that belies just how much he doesn't want this conversation to happen.

"So, this is it, huh?"

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

That smile hits like a solid punch to the gut. He's so fiercely closed off, has no intention of actually discussing anything, and it's becoming more and more difficult for me to be understanding as to the reasons why. It almost looks like he's ready for a fight. Not that the gesture is aggressive, it's just...

Well, I can read Bucky, probably better than he'd like, and not nearly as well as I would.

"You're asking me?" I step further into the clearing, such as it is.

"How was going to ground?"

[onlyapassenger]

He ignores the first of Steve's questions, if only because the answer's obvious; Steve's the one who wants to talk, so of course he's the one who ought to be asked.

"About as well as can be expected," says Bucky, letting his hands drop back down to his sides, completing the gesture. "Given the circumstances."

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

There's nothing for it, then.

"What is it you're so loathe to tell me that you'd rather lie? What is it you have to say that you think I won't be able to handle?" I ask him.

[onlyapassenger]

"Does it really matter?" Bucky asks in turn, brows arching. Logically, of course, he knows it does, if not to him, then at least to Steve; otherwise, they wouldn't be having this conversation in the first place. They could just carry on as they have for the past couple of months, dancing around the more sensitive issues, relearning each other's habits without delving into their underlying causes.

"I mean, hell, it's a blank slate, right?" he adds, Zemo's words forever echoing in his head. What, wonders Bucky, were the odds that moments after he'd been told he didn't deserve a blank slate, he'd land offshore of an island called Tabula Rasa? "My past is supposed to be wiped clean, anyway. Erased."

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

"If that's what you want," I say steadily, "then it's your right, as much as anyone's. If you want it buried and done, no one can stop you, but I need to know how much. You'll barely tell me about the future I haven't lived to see, Bucky, and maybe that's best, but all I have with you is the past. God knows I'd rather deal with the present, but how can I when we've got this minefield of years between us that you refuse to dig up?"

[onlyapassenger]

The first thought that crosses Bucky's mind is that it's a damn good thing he's no longer compelled to blurt out every passing thought that crosses his mind. It's only because of this that he's able to bite his tongue, that's he able to not point out that Steve's the one who dug up the past in the first place, that it was by his wishes that the Cosmic Cube returned all of Bucky's memories, yet one more thing to be done against his will, regardless of whether or not it was for the better.

The second thought is that he doesn't want a blank slate. That Zemo was right about that much, if nothing else; Bucky doesn't deserve to have his indiscretions erased, because until he starts to live his life without the promise of a reset button, he'll never earn it.

"Right," he scoffs, crossing his arms. "Well, that's the problem, isn't it? I'm not that kid anymore, Steve. The good ol' days are long gone, and all that's left is me."

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

Taken aback, I straighten. Another hit, and we're not even exchanging blows. I honestly can't tell if he's being cavalier about his own worth or if he's taking a shot at what is, without doubt or question, my greatest weakness.

"No, Bucky. That's not the problem. I missed you like hell, that's not a matter of question." Every enemy with half a mind to bring me down knew as much.

"But I don't have to do that, anymore, because you're here. Not some ghost I'm carrying around, but you. Do you honestly think that not getting to know the man you've become as well as I did the kid that I knew, that I loved like a brother, wouldn't be one of the biggest regrets of my life?" I shake my head a little, a sharper gesture than I intend. There's a growing tension in my frame; trying to keep my emotions reigned in isn't helping it.

[onlyapassenger]

"I'm not a good man," Bucky replies. He's said it before, not to Steve, but to Natalia, and he's as convinced of it now as he was then. Even if he's been trying at redemption, he has a long way to go, and this right here and now is as indicative of that as anything else he's done.

"And that's not something you'll understand. You can't."

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

"By whose judgement," I demand.

"By what standards are you a bad one? I want to know who set the benchmark for good and bad in this situation, and I want to know what they had to go through to get to a place where they had the right." I can't even touch on the latter half of what he's said. It makes me too angry, stings too much, and that's not where I want this to go.

[onlyapassenger]

"By mine," Bucky snaps, though he doesn't move an inch. He doesn't dare do something as aggressive as take a step forward, not yet, though he knows, deep down, that that's the only road for this to take. His breath feels tight in his throat, the anger barely kept at bay, already spilling over the edges, and still he's as stationary as any statue.

"By standards I learned from you... Fighting at your side, as your partner. And maybe you're too blind to see it, but I'm not."

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

"You were a child," I snap back, voice raising, "and I was struggling every step of the way to grapple with what I had signed up to become, doing the best I could and acting as much on blind instinct as training. Even by the end of the war, when I thought we'd gone through everything a man could- compared to what we've seen and done since? My God, Bucky, you can't expect me to look at you and see a bad person, and look at myself and see any different. I have made my share of mistakes, I have done my share of wrongs, but I know, as surely as I know anything, that you are as a good a man as any. Sure as hell as good a man as me."

[onlyapassenger]

The response shocks Bucky into laughter, the sound of it harsh even to his own ears. Of all the things Steve might've said to him, it's one of the worst, and so Bucky finds himself shaking his head, rocking back on one foot, as he folds his arms over his chest. He takes only a moment to collect himself, casting the briefest of glances skywards before he fixes Steve with a glare.

"How many children do you know who kept plastic explosives in their arm, Steve?" Bucky retorts. "How many children do you know who could throw a knife with my accuracy? Could shoot a gun like me? How many children could stand alongside the Invaders, utterly powerless, and not just be a liability? I was as much a child as you were just a soldier."

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

"I was just a soldier, just one of what should have been many. The fact that you were the most dangerous person I'd ever met didn't make you an adult, Bucky, and the army should never have-" I bite the sentence off.

"I shouldn't have- This isn't the point." To say my hackles are raised would be a dire understatement. I can hear my pulse in my ears. The knowledge that the anger has more to do with my own failings than anything Bucky is saying doesn't make it any more manageable.

"The point is that up until the day that drone plane exploded I had never seen you do a single thing that made you a bad person, just like I haven't since the day you got your memory back. So what information am I missing, Buck, that's got you so damn convinced?"

[onlyapassenger]

His life as the Winter Soldier is a free-for-all, one whose criticisms often have Bucky quietly nodding along in agreement, but his life as Captain America's partner is another matter entirely. He's proud of the work he did for his country, misses the war more than he does his own damn limb, and Steve's words come like a slap to the face, leaving him hot and angrier than he can remember being in a while (which, given his history, isn't as impressive as it could imply).

There's color high on his cheeks, his eyes bright with rage, and finally he takes that all-too important first step forward, though he doesn't go any further than that, his body coming to an abrupt halt, even as he swings an arm outwards in a wild gesture.

"How about everything in between and not a few things afterward?" he yells. "Do you really need a $*%&ing list, Steve?"

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

"You seem to think so," I reply, not quite shouting but close, closer than I would let myself if I could just get a grip on this.

"Because apparently I'm not capable of understanding with my limited knowledge."

[onlyapassenger]

"I'm not doing this," says Bucky, suddenly, throwing up his hands, but in spite of the connotations of surrender that accompany such a motion, he walks forwards instead of backwards, closing the distance between them rather than opening it. Regardless of what he says, he knows, now, that the only way out of here is through Steve, because there's a not single doubt in Bucky's mind that he'll be followed.

He stops short of his friend by a few feet, not close enough to throw a punch from a standstill, though the threat is undeniably there, just as it's been all along.

"The only person who wants to talk here is you."

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

"I'm not the only one who needs to, though," I say, holding my ground if my head tilts tellingly, slightly down, eyes never leaving Bucky's.

"You can't keep running."

[onlyapassenger]

"Never said anything about running," Bucky points out, jerking his chin upwards, defiance written into every line of his body. "Mostly because I didn't figure you'd offer to get out of my way."

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

"Damn it, Bucky," I say quietly, disappointment coloring more, I'm sure, than my words. I don't want this. As keyed up as I am, as primed for the fight- which is inevitable- as I may be, I don't want it to go this way.

That he trusts me so little, that he would rather fight his way out of talking to me than forfeit anything... I know it's selfish, but I need to know why.

I do not offer to get out of his way.

[onlyapassenger]

Bucky hesitates. He'd been so ready to throw the first punch -- every inch of his body yearning for it, wanting that sick satisfaction of being proven right -- but Steve's tone stops him cold. Three simple words make the difference between a fight and detente, though there's no telling how long the latter will actually last. The part of Bucky still raring to go doesn't have high hopes.

He sucks in a sharp breath that might've been a laugh in another life, but comes across only as desperate now. Since taking over the mantle of Captain America, he's done his best to do right by Steve's legacy while still striving to carve out his own identity under the flag, and in this much he's been successful. But at the end of the day, what Bucky wants most is to make the man proud; the disappointment cuts him down faster than any knife, and for a moment, he feels no older than the child Steve accused of him being. Even so, he doesn't avert his gaze, too afraid he might miss some subtle change of expression, some change of heart, though in this, too, he's not hopeful.

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

"I accepted who and what you were," I say, taking advantage of the silence, however taut it may be, the words coming out metered and careful for all that they feel like they're pouring out in a stream beyond my control, "from the moment we were introduced and I never looked back. Not until the world finally beat it into me that you were gone."

I lift my gaze from where it had been hovering about three feet off the ground to Bucky's face.

"You can call me blind, but I know you, Bucky. I knew you then and I knew you when you came back. The last good thing I did before I came here, the last good thing, was asking Tony Stark to save you the way I couldn't," I say, the memory bitter for the knowledge that it was the right call to make, that I had to turn to Tony, of all people, to reach out to Bucky. I reach out to him now, to catch his shoulder, hoping that we can find a way to talk instead of following our natures and training to a foregone conclusion.

"The good old days are gone, Bucky, and if all that's left is you then the rest of them can go hang, because I'm glad."

[onlyapassenger]

"You're... glad," echoes Bucky, quietly, the word awkward in his mouth. He understands, on an intellectual level, that Steve means that he's happy Bucky's alive, of course, but in context, it has a slightly different meaning. Because what Steve isn't saying is too important to ignore; Bucky jerks back from under the weight of Steve's hand, the movement almost skittish, like a feral cat cornered in an alley. His gaze turns uncertain.

"The last time you saw me before you showed up here, I tried to kill you. And I'm not flattering myself when I say I nearly did."

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

This is not the first moment it's occurred to me that I'm screwing this up spectacularly.

"Bucky-" I start, knowing as I do that I've already lost this round, in the ways that count. I didn't say what I meant to, what I needed to. It's like watching an iron door slam shut and searching desperately for anything to keep it wedged open.

"The fact that you were alive meant there was a chance where there hadn't been one, before."

[onlyapassenger]

"A chance for what?" Bucky asks, confusion plain on his face, though he doesn't raise his voice again. He imagines he'll get there soon enough, with the way Steve's carrying on.

"If the Cube hadn't been there--"