[After]

[onlyforthedream]

My body is still in shock, or the memory of it, when I stagger and catch myself with one hand against a palm. My breath is pulling raggedly in my lungs and throat and every part of me feels raw, wind burned or frozen or scraped. The enormity of what we just went through is already slamming into me with the same kind of force as the waters of the North Atlantic and I feel such a powerful surge of nausea that I have to clench my jaw, breathe through my nose, and stay half bent against the tree.

Eventually my breath works itself free of the place it was coiled up and constricted in my chest and, eyes burning, I gasp, "Oh, God."

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[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

"How can I?" I reply, though the words barely make it out of my throat. The only reason I don't jerk away from Bucky's hand is that if I move I might start running.

Actually, the thought has some appeal.

"After- How could I have-"

[onlyapassenger]

"You got us out of there," Bucky interrupts, voice firm, and grip firmer. "You got us out of there, Steve, do you understand?"

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

"No." I shake my head and find I can't stop shaking it. I think all of me is shaking.

"No, I didn't. I couldn't. Not- not when it counted." Half a century ago.

[onlyapassenger]

This isn't his area of expertise. He can't inspire people with words the way Steve can, Bucky's natural tendency to be flippant not lending itself particularly well to comforting those in need. He stumbles over the words in his head, trying to figure out the right thing to say when there's nothing to do, but each possibility sounds more stupid and trivial than the last. There's no mission to rush off to, no distraction they can take for the respite. For once in their lives, they have a chance to breathe, but Bucky would rather suffocate than suffer through watching Steve fall apart.

The difference in height makes the gesture awkward to initiate, but not impossible. Quickly, Bucky wraps his arms around Steve to still him, his chin just clearing his friend's shoulder. His hands clasp together behind Steve's back, the end result more of a hold than an embrace.

"I forgive you," Bucky says, as though he ever blamed him. (He didn't. How could he? It was always Bucky's idea to jump, right from the start. He's the one who ought to be apologizing, but he knows it won't be accepted.) "You did what had to be done and I forgive you."

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

"I'm sorry," I say, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice, after a while of nothing. The only reason I'm still on my feet is Bucky keeping me there, and for that I'm grateful. And something else.

"Thank you," I say, louder, if not much. As hard as it is for me to accept, especially in the wake of what-

What just happened-

The words are both an anchor and a wall. It's a weight I don't know how to navigate.

Struggling to keep my breath steady, to loosen my throat enough to speak takes effort, and I'm having difficulty concentrating, focusing on any one thing. I keep seeing Zemo's forehead crumple with the impact of the bullet under the purple fabric of his mask, and wish that had been the way of it in real life.

"I'm sorry-" I pull away from him, and start to step back.

"I have to-"

[onlyapassenger]

He's running. The bastard is running -- or trying to, at any rate -- and Bucky can't even blame him for the impulse, because it's one he knows all too well. The only problem is, there's nowhere here to run. The damn island's only ten miles across, and with the way Steve's built, let alone the he speed with which he moves, he can't go for long before running out of sand.

"No," Bucky says, grabbing Steve's arm again. Neither of them should be alone right now, even if it's their natural inclination to isolate themselves, to fight, to never, ever stop. Were their positions reversed, Bucky doesn't have the slightest doubt in his mind that he'd already be gone, but maybe there's a chance to get Steve to stay. (And if there isn't, Bucky'll end up tracking him, anyway, not out of concern for Steve's safety so much concern for everyone else's.) "You don't."

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

My body is vibrating with rage and hurt, and looking Bucky in the eye now is practically an impossibility. Months ago he tried to run and I barred his path. He lashed out and I took it without hesitation, but that's not going to happen here. If I hurt Bucky Barnes in this moment it would be the last thing I ever did.

"I can't- Bucky, I can't shake this-"

[onlyapassenger]

"And where are you going to go?"

It's a struggle to keep everything contained, to keep his voice even when he'd surely rather scream, but he hopes his staying quiet will lend him the command he needs to break through to Steve's better judgment. They're both stubborn, both shaken and angry and susceptible to inflicting some major damage on whatever crosses their path, but it's in the interest of the world around them that only one of them give in to their baser instincts at a time.

"Take it from the guy who's ran," says Bucky, reaching out for Steve's other arm once more, mindful of the strength of his left hand. "You're not going to find anything out there."

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

"It doesn't matter," I grit out.

"Anywhere. I can't- God damn it, I can't be here." I squeeze my eyes shut against the sudden blossoming of a headache, behind my eyes and in my temples. What I mean, of course, is that I suddenly feel so trapped, in what the past made of us, in the vestiges of my life, that I could tear my skin off and it wouldn't help. There isn't anywhere to go, Bucky's right about that, but even so, standing still feels like torture.

"I'm sorry that I dragged us back there. I'm sorry it wouldn't end until-"

[onlyapassenger]

"Don't you dare," Bucky replies, cutting him off. Whatever façade of calm he's been wearing cracks, but doesn't shatter, though there's no hiding the rage burning bright in his eyes.

"I swear to--" He stops, coughing out an exhale to collect himself, though when he speaks again, his anger's no better hidden. "You didn't bring us there and I will not stand here and listen to you apologize for someone else's sadism."

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

"It was putting me through my paces. It was driving a point home to me, because I can't accept, have never accepted, that I lost you that day." It's the truth of it, not that I ever wanted to lay it all out like this. Of the people I've been closest to in my life- Tony, Sam, Sharon- Bucky, for all the time we spent apart, will always be different. Our relationship exists on a fine line of silent understanding and the knowledge that we can be honest with each other, even if that means we don't always have to be.

"The fact that you were there, that you had to live through that again- and again- I can't swallow this, Bucky, I can't stand doing nothing in the face of it all."

[onlyapassenger]

There's nothing at all groundbreaking about the confession, little that Bucky hasn't pieced together for himself in the time that he's been returned to his right mind, but to hear Steve actually say it, to put it out on the table like that, almost gives Bucky pause. The truth is, however, that they've never been the best at communication, because they knew one another so well that it wasn't necessary most of the time, and this is no different.

Instead of listening, instead of giving what Steve's said the weight it deserves, Bucky steamrolls ahead, his grip on Steve's arms tightening as he jerks him forward just enough to grab his attention, his own expression so fragile that it could break at any moment, his breaths coming in a short staccato.

His words all but tear themselves from his throat: "Look at me."

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

This is why I wanted to get out of dodge, this feeling. I don't want to say anything irreparably damaging and I don't want to see that look in those eyes. I'm looking now, though, and I can't break away. I owe him that much.

[onlyapassenger]

"I'm right here," Bucky says in almost a whisper, a desperateness clinging to his words -- one he can't shake. He's not whole, he's clinging to the edge of sanity by the tips of fingers, but he's here. Maybe it won't be enough, but it's something, one of the few good things this island has given them both, for all its torture; Bucky's not lost, and he hasn't been for a while.

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

He's right, of course.

I've tried to tell him more than once, tried to make it clear, that having him back in my life, a friend and himself, again- even if it's a self he feels has been tarnished, or too shaped, by his time as the Winter Soldier- is the thing I'm most grateful for. He hasn't made it easy, and I haven't known how to go about it, really, but it's true, and if anything it's even more obvious in this moment. How many times have I relived that day, how desperate was I when the Avengers woke me for the first time? And here we've gone through it again, and for the first time at the end of it, he's not gone.

I barely nod before I pull him in, clasping his shoulder tight. He's solid, he's breathing, he's himself, he's here. He'll go back to Natasha tonight and teach a class in the morning, he has a life and he's living it. Whatever hell this place wanted to put us through, whatever message it wanted to drive home, damn it all, because nothing trumps this fact.

[onlyapassenger]

"It's okay," he mutters, returning the embrace. It's not, of course. There's nothing okay about any of this, but it bears saying nonetheless, the type of meaningless platitude that's necessary after a crisis. A false hope. "It's okay."

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

After an extended moment, I pull back, nodding again, slightly, more to signify that I heard him than to agree. Neither of us are that delusional.

I ease away to sit, slowly, not as wearily as I feel, on a boulder half buried in the soft island earth. The fingers of my left hand immediately dig into my knee and that's where the tension stays. I run my other hand over my face.

"...I didn't mean to lose it, like that," I say, when my voice seems steady enough.

"I apologize. Are you all right?" I ask him, lifting my head.

[onlyapassenger]

The honest answer is no, but Bucky can't bring himself to voice it; not that there's much use in hiding the truth that's written plainly across his face. It's only through some miracle that he manages to stay on his feet once Steve goes to sit down, but Bucky's in no rush to join him, choosing instead to keep the slight distance and lean against the nearest tree, his shoulder pressing into the bark. Gaze turning to the ground, his chin tips downwards, and he shakes his head, the movement so slight he's not even sure it'll register.

With Steve calmer, it's more difficult for Bucky to tamp down his own ire. His skin feels tight from the effort, his every muscle tensed. It takes him a moment to pull together an answer he can stomach.

"I'll live."

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

That's about the most I could hope for.

"...Want to get a drink?"

Not that it'll do a damn thing for me, but Bucky looks like he could use one.

[onlyapassenger]

The noise Bucky makes isn't quite a laugh, but it's close enough to count, humorless as it is. He looks up, though not at Steve.

"I want to get a bar."

[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

"I think that can be arranged," I return with the same hollow tone that could, under completely different circumstances, have been filled out with humor.

"..." I stand, finding nothing else to add. I don't want to go off again, and I don't know how long I can stay steady, but for the moment we both seem to be breathing- coping, somehow- and given circumstances that means we're batting a thousand.