[Bucky Barnes; R] Uncivil War: Chapter 2 Character/Series: Bucky Barnes; Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: R Notes: And the domestic disturbances begin. Title: Uncivil War- Chapter 2: It's Dark Inside Author:yuuo Word Count: 4696 Summary:Bucky felt exhausted.
i wanna hide the truth i wanna shelter you but with the beast inside there's nowhere we can hide -Imagine Dragons
Bucky felt exhausted. Cooking hadn't really done anything to change that; in fact, it had made him feel even more tired. What he needed was to unpack and take a damn nap. But putting food in him before doing so would be good, or he'd wake up with a headache from not eating. He'd rather avoid that.
"So what all else do we have to do today before we can rest?" Steve asked.
Bruce took a sip of his coffee that he'd been living in since everyone had gathered in the dining room to wait for Bucky to cook their breakfast. "Everything," he said, sounding a bit grouchy.
They all felt cranky. Which meant they all needed naps. Good. He could convince them all it'd be a good idea.
Actually, he'd do that right now.
"I think we'd all be better if we get a little extra sleep," he said, poking at his food. "I declare post breakfast naptime."
"Well, I have to get a couple things done," Sharon said. "But it'd be better if they waited until after we've napped. Unless I want brown hair dye on my pillow."
That drew four stares in her direction. "You're planning on dying your hair?" Maria asked.
Shaorn nodded. "I'm the least known Avenger, but I'm former SHIELD and former CIA, even I shouldn't go to town without looking different. I have a picture of a hair style I want, so I'll have to have Steve cut my hair."
Steve, who had gone back to his food, looked up with his fork half hanging out of his mouth and a confused look on his face. He swallowed before talking. "How'd I become a part of this?"
"You cut Bucky's hair," Sharon pointed out.
Steve looked at Bucky. "Yeah, but he's a simple trim." He looked at Sharon on his other side. "It sounds like you want a style."
"I'll handle styling it," Sharon said. "I just need the basic cut. I don't have anyone else that can do that."
Steve looked helplessly at the others and only received confirmation that none of them could do it. He looked at Sharon. "If I mess this up, don't hold it against me."
She set her fork down to pat his hand. "Don't worry, dear, I'm nice. Just get it close, I can style it to hide any problems." She looked past him at Bucky. "And while you're at it, it looks like your partner could stand a trim."
That gave Bucky his own moment of wondering what brought him to the conversation. "What?" He grabbed a lock of hair and pulled it out for examination. "Okay, yeah, you have a point." Then he pointed his fork at her, halfway in front of Steve. "You first though. Your little disguise gets you into town to get me some damn spices." He went back to poking his scrambled eggs. "I normally can make these better than this."
"Don't worry about it, Bucky," Maria said. "They taste fine. We'll deal until Sharon can get into town. Making good food without proper ingredients is a sign of a good cook."
"I will take that compliment."
"I knew you would."
Steve looked up at the ceiling. "Thank God there's someone else who knows how to handle him."
Bucky gave him a dirty look, then glanced around at the cats gathered around their table and up on nearby tables, and winding around under their table. "So who wants to share their breakfast with all these furballs?"
"I'll share some sausage," Sharon said. "It's good, and normally I can eat this, but the stress of the last couple weeks has my stomach acting up, so it's not liking the spice much."
"I'll keep that in mind," Bucky said, looking back down at his feet. Cali was sitting there, watching him with the intensity of a cat begging. But she was keeping her paws to herself and waiting patiently. "Well, get ready to share, I'm giving Cali a piece and that's going to set off an avalanche."
Sharon finished the last bite of her eggs and started cutting her sausage into tiny pieces for the cats. "Ready and waiting, sir."
Bucky bit back a sigh and an angry rant. He was not the leader, stop calling him that. But he knew that she wasn't being serious, so he let it go. He grabbed a piece of sausage and held it out to Cali, who sniffed it and then licked it. But she waited for him to set it down before she devoured it, her tail quivering in delight.
Then came the crowd.
Sharon immediately set her plate down on the floor and got up out of the way, hiding behind Steve as the hoard of cats descended on the plate. "I didn't realize how fast they could eat."
Maria scooted her chair closer to Bruce, but kept on finishing up her plate. "Your allergies have isolated you from cats, haven't they?"
Sharon nodded. "The penthouse can be an issue some days if Junior's spent a lot of time up there. I've never been able to stay this close to cats to watch them eat."
Bruce frowned. "I'll take a look at you. If Junior is still a problem, then you might not've outgrown that allergy. That's very odd." He looked at Bucky. "But I'm going to yield to you on when we should do what."
Sigh!
"Take a look at her when we're done here," Bucky said, changing his plans in his mind as he spoke. "Steve told me that we need to steal a dresser from the girls' dorm since we're stuck sharing a room and one dresser's not going to be enough. So we can do that while you look at Sharon."
"I'll take care of clean up," Maria said. "After that, once Bruce is done with Sharon, we can work on her hair."
After Sharon's hair was done was naptime. Bucky was going to order this. If they were going to look to him to make this place bearable, he was decreeing when naps were taken. And naps would be had after Sharon's hair was cut, dyed, and cleaned.
Steve looked up over his head to where Sharon was still standing. "I don't have to do the dyeing, do I? I can guarantee that is something I'll mess up."
The expression on Sharon's face said that she'd been thinking he would, and she looked at the others with pleading dismay. Maria and Bruce both shook their heads, at which point, Sharon turned that look on Bucky.
Bucky shrugged. "Shouldn't be much harder than trying to shampoo a rambunctious five year old's hair without getting it in her eyes."
Sharon beamed, moving behind him from behind Steve and bent down, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "You're a doll, Bucky."
"Hey, whose girlfriend are you supposed to be?" Steve said, looking mildly insulted. "I agreed to cut your hair and I didn't get that."
Oh please let that mean he was remembering her better than he had been the day before. If so, his memories were returning quicker than any of them had braced for and maybe they could get home faster.
Sharon stepped over to him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her chin on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said. "I just don't know what you do and don't remember. I didn't want to make anything awkward for you."
Steve patted her arm. "I'm trying," he said.
Sharon leaned her head against his. "I know," she said, then straightened and looked and Bruce. "Ready, Doctor?"
Bruce downed the last of his coffee. "Any time you are."
"I'll get the plates," Maria said, starting to stand. She glanced down at Sharon's plate on the floor. "If cat spit were hygienic, that plate wouldn't need to be washed."
"Sadly for you, it isn't, so it does," Bucky said, flashing her a smartass grin. "We'll leave the kitchen to you, dear. We have a dresser to see to and Sharon has a doctor's appointment."
Maria looked at Bucky over the table, bent over to retrieve Sharon's licked clean plate. Bucky was at the wrong angle to appreciate that. "And after that, we put things away, correct? Or Sharon's hair first?"
Bucky blinked, halfway to his feet. "You can put things away and nap if you want," he said. "I don't think it'll require more than the three of us to get Sharon's hair done, unless she wants opinions that aren't ours."
When Maria turned to Sharon, Sharon shrugged. "I wouldn't mind a woman's opinion on how the cut looks before we start dyeing it. It'll look bad before shampooing after the dye's in regardless."
"Then I'll come back," Maria said, grabbing Bruce's empty coffee cup. "Go on, we all have our tasks."
Oh good, someone else was handing out an order. Get yer asses in gear, people.
Bucky and Steve slipped out of the cafeteria on Bruce and Sharon's heels, leaving Maria mobbed by about a dozen or more cats that had sampled Sharon's plate and wanted more. The two pairs split up at the hall leading to the eastern dorm wing.
"I haven't even seen the room," Bucky said. "You're sure another dresser will fit in there? You know, before we get too far into this."
"It'll fit," Steve assured him. "And we'll need it once the rest of our clothes get here. Especially since the closet's small and our uniforms take up quite a bit of room, so there won't be much left for regular clothing."
Bucky frowned. "I didn't realize the closet was that small. We'll figure out what to do when we can both look at it, I guess."
"I think we'll be okay if we just hang pants and put everything else in drawers. That'll make our nice shirts a bit wrinkly, but we're not exactly going to be going out for a night on the town with the girls any day soon."
"Too bad," Bucky said. "Might help you get to know Sharon better." He peered up at Steve as they reached the stairs, stepping back to let Steve go up first. "How well do you remember her?"
Steve didn't answer at first, taking the steps two at a time and in a helluva hurry.
Okay, fine, question retracted.
Once they were on the third floor, Bucky right on Steve's heels, Steve looked at him. "I remember how I feel a lot more than actual events. I remember a few things here and there, but mostly I just recognize her as someone important to me."
That sounded familiar to Bucky. "So she's not a stranger, at least."
Steve shook his head, opening the door to the nearest dorm. "No, not in that way." He glanced back at Bucky as they entered the room. "Was it like this for you?"
"Yeah." Bucky examined the room; a queen bed centered right across from the door, a closet in the far right wall, a tall but narrow dresser between the foot of the bed and the wall by the door, and a small desk and chair next to it. The private bathroom was on the left side of the room. "Is this what the other dorms look like?"
"Mm. Plain as can be. That desk might make it hard to fit another dresser in, but with as narrow as they are, I think one will fit on the wall by the bathroom door." He looked at Bucky, and when he spoke, his voice got quiet. "I know we're pretty messed up right now. I don't like it, but I can admit it to you. You sure we're both okay with the forced closeness of sharing a bed?"
Bucky spent a few second studying him before answering. "We have never had a problem with sharing a bed, Steve. Especially not when one of us was hurting. I think the only time in my recent memory that we whined about it was when we went to Nebraska with Natasha, and that was more of a token protest to the fact that the beds were doubles and therefore crowded."
"Beds, plural?" Steve asked, moving around to the far side of the dresser. "And why am I remembering you protesting someplace out west?"
"One in a hotel, then the sofa bed at her apartment," Bucky said, positioning himself at the other side of the dresser. "And that was at Tony's vacation house, and okay, yes, I tried to get out of it because I wasn't really comfortable asking for something I needed yet." He took a breath. "Okay, I'll go first, down these stairs and then up the others?"
"Works for me." Once they were both crouched and had grips on the dresser, they counted to three and hefted it up. It wasn't heavy, not by their standards, but being so tall, it was somewhat unwieldy. "Okay, set it back down."
Bucky didn't question why, he knew Steve had an idea and Steve's ideas tended to be better than Bucky's stupid ones. "What've you got in mind?"
"We'll carry this down on its side," Steve said. "It's tall enough that it might knock one of us down the stairs. You get the top, I'll get the bottom. You first down the stairs."
See? Better.
Refraining from making a remark on it and bringing up a topic he really wasn't wanting to discuss, he helped Steve tilt the dresser towards him to lift it up on its side. It took some creative maneuvering to get it out the door and around the corner, but they managed. They coordinated the stairs by announcing each step they took together, keeping Bucky from getting toppled while going slower backwards than Steve could go going forwards.
Light spilled into the main hallways from the dining room as they passed from one wing to the other. Bucky could hear sounds of Maria still in the kitchen. He considered asking if she needed help. He didn't think it took that long to load a dishwasher, but she might've hit a snag. But she was a capable woman, he simply turned his comm on to listen if she asked for help.
"Okay, up the stairs," Bucky said, helping Steve turn the dresser. "This is a pain in the ass, by the way."
"I know," Steve said. "But there weren't any spare dressers on this side. Just tell me when you're ready to go up."
Bucky braced himself, tapping the back of his heel backwards until he found the stair. He readjusted his grip on the dresser, then hauled himself up on the first stair with a notice to Steve. Step. Step. Step. Up to the landing at the second floor, twist around to get up to the third. Step. Step. Step. Careful, need to stop? No, just needed a better grip. Okay. Step. Step. Step.
Despite the fact that it barely touched his limits of how long he could go carrying even heavier things, Bucky was damn glad to get the dresser set down against the wall next to the bathroom door. He stepped back. "You're good at spatial relations," he said. "That fits pretty nicely there."
Steve stayed by the dresser. "Does it need adjusted?"
Bucky studied the dresser and its position with a critical eye for a few seconds, then shook his head. "Nope, it's fine there." He sat down on the foot of the bed. "Think I have time to unpack before Sharon's ready for us to play stylists for her?"
Steve sat down next to him. "Depends on how much Bruce can do with whatever supplies we have. I don't even know how he'd go about figuring this one out."
"Me neither," Bucky said, eyes wandering around the room. It really was the same as the other side, right down to the plain cream wall paint. There were no signs of anything having been hung on the walls. Then he looked down at their suitcases. "Might as well unpack now rather than doing it later. We might be too tired later."
"I'm too tired now," Steve complained, though he didn't sound serious about that statement.
"Same here," Bucky said, standing up regardless. He zoomed in on the bag with the uniforms, pulling out the cash. He handed it to Steve. "I leave this in your hands."
Steve took the money and stuffed it in the top drawer of the dresser by the door, apparently claiming that one. "I'll let you hang the uniforms, then."
Good. Bucky wanted it that way. Steve was less likely to notice Bucky sneaking the Winter Soldier Project files out of the bag and into his own clothes to be hidden the way Steve was hiding the money. He had a feeling Steve had forgotten some of what was in there, and he just didn't want to deal with Steve reading about all that again. Not when Hydra was in. That would only be worse. Bucky wanted to wait a bit before letting Steve read the files again.
Bucky stuffed the envelope with the files into his suitcase while Steve was occupied with his own suitcase, then took care of the uniforms. Steve hadn't been wrong about how little room there was going to be in that closet after hanging their uniforms, especially since Bucky now had a coat to add to them.
While setting up the bathroom to his liking- yes, he was fussy, at least Steve understood -he located the hair scissors. "Hey, Steve."
"Yeah?"
Bucky held the scissors out the doorway, holding them by the bladed ends. "You'll need these."
Steve took the scissors with care from Bucky, and Bucky tilted his head to the side, trying to decipher his thinky face. Steve was studying them uncertainly. "I really don't know about this," he said. "I hope she doesn't want anything fancy."
"I doubt she'd make you do something complicated," Bucky said. He stifled a yawn and went over to the bed and flopped down. "Okay, I know I said we'd dye her hair before napping, but I think she might have to wait. I'm exhausted."
Steve set the scissors down on Bucky's dresser and joined him, sitting down by his feet. "It's been a long few days."
"Long two weeks, but you don't remember most of that."
"I can feel the effects of it, though."
"Fair enough." Bucky tapped his comm, an unnecessary move, but it helped him concentrate on it past the fatigue. "Hey, Sharon, Bruce, either of you online?"
"I'm here," Bruce said. "And there's not much I can do to figure out why she's not reacting, but she most assuredly is not having any sort of reaction, not even an unnoticeable one."
"He gave me some Benadryl just in case," Sharon said in the earpiece. "Which just puts me to sleep. I'm gonna have to take a rain check on my hair, guys."
Bucky smiled faintly. "Just what we were going to tell you. We're tired as hell. I think everyone would do good with a chance to recharge. It's been a damn too long."
"Too long what?" Maria asked, joining the conversation.
"Too long in general," Bucky said. "But seriously, we're going to nap, sounds like Sharon is about to get knocked out, why don't we all rest? Make all of us less cranky."
"That sounds like a good idea, and as everyone's doctor, I'm seconding that order," Bruce said.
Bucky stifled a yawn, fighting it back until he'd said a general goodnight and turned off his comm. "Don't forget to turn off your comm, Steve," he said, pushing Steve's butt off the foot of the bed so he could stretch out his legs.
He was so exhausted that he barely noticed when the bed jostled from Steve laying down on his side. He had to squirm over a bit because Steve insisted on getting under the covers and Bucky was just fine on top of them. Once Steve was settled, Bucky scooted back on the bed and finished falling to sleep.
His sleep was restful until he felt the covers getting tugged under him. He curled up tighter and scowled, not yet letting himself be woken beyond what was needed to grumble "stop taking the blankets, you hog," at Steve.
"I'm not."
Bucky's eyes snapped open. Steve's tone wasn't sleepy, it wasn't groggy, it wasn't even grouchy. His tone was pure anger, and Bucky was suddenly very awake and sitting up frantically, braced for a threat.
The manila envelope that held the Winter Soldier Project files folder was at the foot of the bed, and the old notes written in careful strokes were scattered about in front of Steve, and a second look showed that they only seemed scattered, and that Steve had been meticulous about keeping them spread out in order. Pictures littered the papers like dead leaves layered over grass, pictures of himself at the various stages of the drugs, in cryo, the attachment of his arm, pictures of the chair and training. Pictures Bucky didn't like seeing.
Steve was gripping the bedding in his fists, hands curling in as if trying to rip the covers out from under Bucky and send him flying off the bed in an attempt to tear the fabric apart.
"What did they do to you?" he demanded in a hot whisper, tears making his eyes red. "Is this what created the Soldier? Why did you hide this?"
Bucky reached over and started trying to put things back into their place, his shaking hands making it difficult. He hadn't been ready, hadn't wanted Steve to see yet, to remember. Bucky had never had to see Steve's first reaction to the files, and right then, it terrified him. Hydra was in Steve, Steve confused the Soldier with Hydra, that much had been clear in his sketches. Seeing this connection between Bucky and the Soldier so vividly made the whole situation like a keg of gun powder and someone was playing with a lighter over it.
"Because you're damn well not ready," he said, forcing his voice to stay firm.
Steve grabbed his metal wrist and pulled it away from the picture he was grabbing. "So you get to decide that for me?"
Bucky yanked his arm away with a snarl, his initial fear snapping back into anger. "This is my project, Steve, I'll share it when I'm ready. Now let go of me before we end up tearing these pages."
Steve didn't let go, trying to move the pages away from Bucky's reach. "Now it's when you're ready? This isn't something anyone's gonna be ready for," he said, voice turning into a venom that Bucky had heard before, but never directed at him.
In a desperate attempt to preserve the pages and get Steve to let him go, he shoved Steve off the bed. Steve flailed, let go of Bucky's wrist, and landed ass first on the ground. Bucky scrambled to grab everything, not caring if it was in order or not, and put them back in their folder. "Let it lie, Steve," he said, sticking the folder into the envelope.
There was a knock at the door. "Bucky? Steve?" Maria's voice. "Are you two okay in there?"
Bucky and Steve looked at each other, then Steve got up and headed to the door while Bucky hurried to hide the files in his dresser drawer.
"We're fine, Maria," Steve said after opening the door. "He just kicked me out of bed." He shot a glare to Bucky.
Bucky joined him. "That's because you were hogging the blankets again," he said, trying to keep his voice stable. That lie had come out too smoothly on both their parts. He was lying to his own girlfriend and Steve had started it all too easily.
Thanks a lot, jackass.
Maria didn't look convinced. She probably heard their raised voices. They probably all did, but only Maria had been brave enough to confront them on it. "If you're sure everything's all rig-"
She got cut off by the power abruptly cutting out. The sounds of the AC were silenced and the light in the bedroom flicked off. That didn't really lessen the irritation too much, but it added a layer of confusion, like icing on a shit cake.
Bucky took in a deep breath and pushed past Maria and Steve. "I'll go take a look at the arc reactor, maybe something's gone funky."
"I can do it," Bruce said, and Bucky turned, staring down the hall to see that both Bruce and Sharon were in the hallway, looking concerned. The only source of light was the window at the far end.
Bucky would rather everyone just go back to bed and pretend they hadn't heard anything that he was certain they did, but there wasn't much point in that. "You know more about it, I guess," he conceded. "I'll check the fuses, maybe something got tripped."
They all looked up when the sound of power came back, the AC chugging away, and the light coming from Steve and Bucky's room returning. Bucky and Bruce looked at each other. "Should we check those out anyway?" Bruce asked.
"Probably not a bad idea," Bucky said. "Turn on your comm, stay in touch. The rest of you can go back to sleep."
Sharon shook her head. "I'm awake. I was waking up anyway."
"Then I'll get the scissors," Steve said. "We can work on your hair." His voice as rough, but clearly trying to be as gentle as possible
For some reason that Bucky couldn't begin to fathom- try harder, jackass -that attempt didn't do much to ease the anxiety on Sharon's face. "All right. I'll get the picture of what I want."
"Get the dye too," Bucky said. "We'll just do that when we cut your hair. We're all up at this point." His voice was far kinder than Steve's had been. Bucky had forced himself to gain an extraordinary amount of patience to work with his damaged team, trying to set aside his own problems to take care of them all.
Steve, you weren't helping.
"Okay," Sharon said, sounding a bit calmer as a result of that godly amount of patience. She disappeared back into her room.
"Come on, Bruce," Bucky said, waving him to come with. "We have power sources to look at before something else happens."
They headed downstairs in silence, until they got to the first floor, when Bruce decided to speak up. "You two had an argument?"
Yup, they'd all heard the near-shouting. "Just a small one," he said. "Not a big deal. Brothers argue, it happens."
Bruce made a thoughtful noise. "If you're sure." He didn't sound convinced, but he he was obviously not going to comment further.
"Comm on?" Bucky asked when he reached the basement door.
Bruce tapped his ear. "Comm on. I'll let you know if I find anything."
Bucky nodded once, then headed downstairs. Cali came running from wherever she'd been hiding and nearly tripped him on his way down the stairs. "Damnit, Cali!"
She waited for him at the bottom of the stairs, looking contrite. Well, at least she had the decency to look guilty.
He bent down and rubbed his thumb between her eyes once he was at the bottom of the stairs. Her eyes closed in bliss, then she got up and rubbed up against him. She sat back down and seemed to wait for him to pick where they should go next.
Sigh.
He headed down the not as nice hall of the basement, passing the furnace and the hot water heater, and finally down to the room with the fuse boxes. He flicked on the light and stepped into the room, then froze. Ice went down his back, causing his stomach to clench up.
On the wall by one of the fuse boxes, the paint that had been peeling before had all flaked off, revealing that the darker color on the wall behind it was not more paint, but a giant burn mark.