James Buchanan Barnes (ex_wintersol227) wrote in welcomethreads, @ 2014-07-04 19:44:00 |
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Entry tags: | bucky barnes / winter soldier (mcu), steve rogers / captain america (mcu) |
Who: Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes
Where: The park
When: July 4, noon
What: Meeting... again.
Rating/Warning: TBD
So... here he was again. Waiting in the same park, on the same bench, for a different version of the same person. Bucky had to wonder what his life was turning into. Storybrooke wasn't a bad place, not by a longshot, but it could be a horribly depressing place. He'd struggled with his memories. Both what he couldn't quite remember and what he couldn't stop remembering but he'd done it with Steve providing support. He'd struggled with his feelings for his best friend but the feelings had been reciprocated and everything worked out in spite of Steve's need to pick fights with Clint and Ward. Now... now Steve didn't remember any of it. The man he'd spent the past couple of months sharing an apartment with, that he'd spent a few weeks romantically connected to, and a few days missing was gone now. In his place was a version of Steve who hadn't gone through the same thing. Who didn't know how he felt. Who may not feel the same way. When Steve first went missing that was Bucky's greatest fear. That, when he came back, he wouldn't remember. He wouldn't feel the same way. Now it seemed the magic of this place had finally come to its senses. Steve Rogers was good. Too good for someone like him.
He'd spent the initial night mourning. He chose to express himself in Russian because Steve didn't understand but he could still talk to the friends he'd made. He figured out how to push that all aside once more by the morning. Slipping back behind the emotionless mask he'd worn for the past 70 years was easier than he had imagined. Sure, he slipped. He still felt and, as he told Clint, it was painful but he was allowed to have these moments in his new home. He'd packed up the few things he had of Steve's (mostly shirts because the fact that they smelled like him was comforting) and left them outside of their proper apartment. The only thing that didn't make the trip back was the sketchbook his Steve had been drawing in. The contents were personal. Too personal to share even with someone who'd become their friend. The pages were filled with various drawings of Bucky. The conversation regarding them was painful to recall. He couldn't give the sketchbook to the new Steve but he couldn't go through it either so he hid it under his mattress with the thought that, maybe one day, he could bring it out and look at it again.
This, of course, meant that Bucky still owed Steve something. This meant it was only fitting that the new version of his old best friend had appeared shortly before his birthday. While the town was preparing for a celebration with their friends and family, Bucky had used his money to buy Steve a gift. The leather bound sketchbook wasn't flashy or modern but it was nice and practical. Something he wasn't sure they could've afforded before they were thrown forward in time. He was probably lucky he could afford it now but Steve didn't have to know that. The sketchbook was currently wrapped in plain, brown paper and sitting next to him on the bench while he waited. He didn't know if he was ready for this meeting but it was Steve's birthday. He could've avoid him on his birthday.