Status: Currently in progress.

Run

11 Elevator

11 Elevator
Bruce Banner, the quiet man with the downcast eyes from Tony’s tower earlier, had found his hotel and sent him a call. He wanted Bucky to return for a check-up on the arm.
“It’s working fine,” Bucky said.
“We’d really just like to be sure,” Bruce explained. “And besides, Mr., um, it was Barnes right?”
“Yes,” Bucky said.
“Mr. Barnes, your arm is,” Bruce laughed a little. “Your arm really is something else. Tony and I were really impressed and if you don’t mind, we’d like the opportunity to see it again.”
So that was it. They just wanted to look at it. Bucky glanced down at his left arm and flexed it out a little, watching the metal plates slide and click into place as he moved. He couldn’t blame them, Hydra had done a beautiful job with it.
Bucky hated the thought of it and he considered just not going, but he was struck with the sinking fear that something serious might happen to his arm again and he would be completely alone. Something in him cried out for the first time in a long time against being alone. Bucky decided then to comply with Bruce’s request.
“Tony says he’ll have a plane waiting for you at the airport, okay?” Bruce said.
“How did you get this number?” Bucky asked abruptly once Bruce finished speaking.
“I traced you,” Bruce said as though it was the simplest thing to do.
“Am I that easy to find?” Bucky raged and slammed the phone down in frustration. He would have to get better at hiding. If Bruce and Tony could find him so easily, surely Hydra already had a visual on him.
The next day at four, Bucky was in New York again, having taken Tony's plane. The travel had been uneventful. He had done everything Tony had done before him.
The plane dropped him off at a nearby private airport, however, instead of Stark Tower itself, so Bucky was forced to call another cab since he didn’t know the way.
Bucky arrived at Stark Tower soon after and entered the building. The elevators to the top, where Tony most certainly was did not stand empty, to Bucky’s dismay. He recognized the tall frame of Steve Rogers before them, waiting, his hands folded in front of him. Flashes assaulted Bucky, near painful ones, of the skinny boy in the sick bed. That smile and the bruised faced, the hand on a shoulder. Bucky gritted his teeth and forced himself to do it, just do it. He walked up to Steve, tense, and stood next to him, glaring at the ground. He spread his legs out just a little, bent his knees, ready to flee if he had to. He felt Steve’s eyes on him as he looked over.
“Bucky!” Steve said in surprise.
“Steve,” Bucky replied quietly in greeting.
“What are you doing here?” Steve had turned his body towards Bucky, opening his arms just a little. Bucky stood tense and unmoving, his eyes still fixed to the floor. He frowned and looked up, past Steve, to the elevator numbers ticking down at the top of the door.
“Checking up on my arm,” Bucky explained.
“It’s been working, right?” Steve asked. He was concerned. He shouldn’t be concerned.
Bucky considered a lot of things to say. It doesn’t matter, Steve. Stop caring, Steve. None of your business, Steve. I’m not Bucky, Steve, I’m not your friend. I may have his face, but I am broken and twisted beyond recognition and it would only hurt you to know me because I am not Bucky, so stop asking, stop checking in on me, stop being concerned. Leave me alone, Steve.
“Yeah,” Bucky replied, swallowing his thoughts. The dam was in check. “I think, uh, I think they’re just making sure.”
“Oh, well that’s good,” Steve said. The elevator dinged cheerily and the doors opened. Steve fell back, hesitated, until Bucky stepped into the elevator. Then Steve followed and the doors closed and up they went. Bucky stared at the ground. He looked at the carpets and corners where the floor met the wall and the line of buttons where he had pressed the top one, anywhere but Steve.
“I’m going up, too,” Steve said. “Up, I mean, to the top.” Bucky nodded tersely. “There’s some confidential information about SHIELD we need to discuss in person. From Fury.”
“Should I wait outside the room, then,” Bucky said.
“No, no,” Steve reassured him. “It’s fine, you should be there.” Bucky nodded again. In his head flashed the images from his dream. You should draw me. I already drew you. Draw me again. Feel better, Steve.
“Do you, uh-” The words caught in Bucky’s throat. It was almost like he was sharing something intensely personal instead of asking a silly question.
“Sorry, what?” Steve asked, turning to him.
Bucky still couldn’t look Steve in the eye. His right hand clenched his left.
“Do you draw,” Bucky said. He made a motion with his hands, trying to mimic a pencil. “Art, I mean.”
“Yeah,” Steve said encouragingly. He seemed a little excited, realizing that Bucky had remembered something, anything about him. Bucky wanted to back away now. He didn’t remember anything, he didn’t want to disappoint. “Do you want to see my notebooks?” Bucky considered this, rubbing his left palm. The dam was holding up and the floods were steady. Did he want to see Steve’s notebooks? And what did this mean for his dream, was it a memory? Bucky seemed to think yes. So, he supposed, he could look at the drawings. What harm could it really do? If it got too bad, if anything happened, he could run. The elevator dinged again as Bucky felt it halt and the doors began to open.
“Sure,” Bucky said. I’d like that, he thought, but didn’t have the courage to add.
Tony greeted Bucky and Steve at the elevator and beckoned them inside. Bruce invited Bucky to sit on the table where he had sat the last time and Bucky waited there while Steve kept a good distance at the other side of the room. Bucky clenched his metal hand and waited while Tony and Bruce did small tests and checks. He didn’t even have to take his shirt off, which was nice because it was rather cold in the tower and the metal against his body didn’t do much by body heat. As the Bruce and Tony worked, Steve briefed them with Fury’s messages, arms folded, pacing ever so slightly.
“He wants to have a meeting soon,” Steve said.
“Where?” Bruce asked. “Move your fingers. No, no, that way. Yeah, there.”
“Bruce, hand me the blueprints. Probably in, uh,” Tony glanced at Bucky. “The same place as last time.” Bucky automatically dropped his eyes to the ground.
“It’s fine, Tony,” Steve said in a tone that bordered defensive. “Bucky’s coming with us.” Bucky looked up and jumped just the slightest, startled.
“Hold still,” Bruce said.
“What do you mean, I’m not going, I’m not going anywhere,” Bucky said.
“Fury wants to see you,” Steve said, his eyebrows going up just the slightest in expectation, as though he was waiting for Bucky to settle down and agree. Bucky wished he could say he recognized that gesture.
“I don’t want to see him,” Bucky replied. “He wants me to reconsider, I don’t, I don’t want to. I’m not going to go back doing the things I was doing. I’m not making exceptions. He told me I wouldn’t owe him anything for my shoulder!” Steve’s brow furrowed now and he unfolded his arms. He took a step closer to Bucky.
“What are you talking about?” he asked. Bucky stared at him. His hair was falling in his eyes, but he left it there.
“I’m talking about Fury’s offer, I already said no,” Bucky said. Steve was beginning to look angry.
“What offer?” Steve asked. Tony and Bruce had stopped working and were now both staring back and forth between Bucky and Steve. The room had gone silent.
“Did he, did he say nothing to you?” Bucky said. “He wants me to join SHIELD and work as an assassin. He said he could use a man like me. I said I-I could never do that again. Not now.”
“And what about your shoulder,” Steve prodded. Bucky looked down a little and shrugged.
“He offered to have my dislocated shoulder fixed by people who wouldn’t ask questions. But he said he would do it for me without recompense, which is why I took him up. But now he’s calling me again,” Bucky explained. Steve’s face masked badly-hidden rage. Bucky noticed he was making fists. A part of him reached out. Steve, don’t make any rash decisions. Don’t jump into any fights you can’t win, I’m not always gonna be there to drag you out. The words slammed into Bucky like a bullet, a memory without an image. He saw Steve in front of him and Steve in his bed in 1936 and felt a disembodied, overwhelming need to just protect him. Admittedly, it shook Bucky. He wasn’t prepared.
“Don’t think you have to do anything he tells you to do, Bucky,” Steve was saying. Bucky looked over at him.
“Don’t think you have to protect me,” he said, his voice deadpan. Because, he realized in his thoughts, I was supposed to protect you.
Steve looked like he’d been slapped and Bucky regretted his words a little. Maybe he would back off now.
“Well this has been fun,” Tony said loudly. “But if we’re all done here, Pepper and I have a dinner planned, so goodbye! You know where the door is.” Steve didn’t move. Bucky, staring at Steve, was still as well. Tony was beginning to get aggravated. “Look, it’s not that I don’t love having a bunch of angsty 90 year old super soldiers hanging around my place, it’s just that this is getting weird and I don’t do weird.” Bucky slid himself off the table slowly and shuffled back to the elevator wordlessly.
“Thanks,” he said to Tony and Bruce. Bruce gave a small wave. Hands still in fists, stalking and fuming, Steve followed Bucky to the elevator and stood, crossing his arms tightly as the doors closed in front of them.
Halfway down the building, Steve glanced over at Bucky.
“You still wanna see my drawings?”
“Yeah.”