Peace and Vengeance
two
When Steve walked in, Bucky was perched on the arm of the sofa, bowl of cereal in one hand, overfull spoon in the other.
"There's a dinning table, Buck. A bar in the kitchen. Or you can actually sit on the couch proper. Lots of better options." Steve cuffed Bucky's shoulder.
A lesser man might've spilled, but Bucky's arm held steady. "Don't boss me." Still, he slid from the arm of the chair and took a seat.
The television was running, some kid's program with anthropomorphic cartoon animals. "What is this?"
Bucky gave him half-a-glance - "Arthur," - and then a second look,"You went running in that?"
Steve sat on the couch adjacent to Bucky's, placing a pair of disposable cups on the table. "'Course not. Coffee with Darcy. Sent this up for you."
Bucky traded his cereal for whatever concoction Darcy thought up that day. The cup was warm against his palm and when he brought it to his lips, he could smell something sweet and spicy wafting up towards him.
This was a thing Darcy had been doing since he and Steve moved into the apartment above hers. She insisted that modern coffee was a luxury he should indulge in. Bucky suspected that had to do with Steve's insistence on how bad it had been during the war - Like burnt tar, he'd heard him say on more than one occasion - and Darcy's need to refocus her energies on someone else now that her scientist was permanently off-planet. It was more attention than Bucky thought he'd wanted, but he couldn't deny the over-sweet drinks were usually the most interesting part of his day.
"Natalia?"
"Natasha, Buck."
Bucky rolled his eyes. Natalia had slipped on a new identity. He didn't begrudge her that - Lord knows he'd do the same if he could - but it was still hard to let go. She was one of the few good things - likely the only good thing - from his time under Hydra. A small part of him mourned her. Another part might have been a little bitter she was so eager to erase that part of her history. Of their history.
"Natasha, Rogers?"
Steve was still a punk. Seven decades hadn't changed a damn thing.
"According to Darce, Barton landed on her fire escape in the middle of the night, then he and Nat took off. M'guessing it's a mission."
"You don't sign off on missions?"
"Not anymore, Buck. I'm sure I've already told you that."
The tips of Steve's ears were gaining color and Bucky could see the set of his jaw tightening. "Oh, right. Guess it slipped my mind, Stevie. Forgot you'd quit your team in a snit. Ripped that symbol right off your arm, didn't you? Let Stark Jr keep your shield."
"Buck-"
He was picking at old wounds, he knew it, but he was bored and feeling a little vicious. Hadn't that therapist said he needed to just let himself feel his emotions rather than suppressing them? He was allowed to be petty. To be angry or annoyed. That was normal and isn't that what Steve and everyone wanted.
Steve, the stupid kid, was definitely grinding his nerves; acting like he wasn't itching to get back into the action. Steve Rogers sitting out a fight was the most unnatural thing in the world and he was doing it on account of Bucky. This thing with Stark, with leaving the Avengers, was just Steve's usual over-developed sense of loyalty roaring it's ugly head. Even though Bucky had told him, in as many words as he could muster, that he wasn't holding any grudges against Stark, Steve wasn't budging.
"How long are you gonna keep this shit up?" Bucky pressed on. "You'd really rather be sulking around here than fighting the good fight?"
Bucky watched as Steve tried to rein in his temper. He was breathing harshly through flared nostrils and purposely relaxing his fist. After just a couple of minutes, he actually did seem more calm.
"I won't be 'sulking' around here much longer."
Bucky's expression opened. "Oh, yeah? Where ya' headed, Steve?"
"New Mexico. Some part of Dr. Foster's equipment isn't collecting data the way it should. Darcy wants to take a look at it. You're free to come with."
At that Bucky laughed. "Nah. You go ahead. Third-wheelin' never looked like much fun."
"It wasn't," Steve scratched at the back of his head, "but it's not like that with Darce."
"Either way," Bucky shrugged, "I wouldn't mind a few days on my own."
"There's a dinning table, Buck. A bar in the kitchen. Or you can actually sit on the couch proper. Lots of better options." Steve cuffed Bucky's shoulder.
A lesser man might've spilled, but Bucky's arm held steady. "Don't boss me." Still, he slid from the arm of the chair and took a seat.
The television was running, some kid's program with anthropomorphic cartoon animals. "What is this?"
Bucky gave him half-a-glance - "Arthur," - and then a second look,"You went running in that?"
Steve sat on the couch adjacent to Bucky's, placing a pair of disposable cups on the table. "'Course not. Coffee with Darcy. Sent this up for you."
Bucky traded his cereal for whatever concoction Darcy thought up that day. The cup was warm against his palm and when he brought it to his lips, he could smell something sweet and spicy wafting up towards him.
This was a thing Darcy had been doing since he and Steve moved into the apartment above hers. She insisted that modern coffee was a luxury he should indulge in. Bucky suspected that had to do with Steve's insistence on how bad it had been during the war - Like burnt tar, he'd heard him say on more than one occasion - and Darcy's need to refocus her energies on someone else now that her scientist was permanently off-planet. It was more attention than Bucky thought he'd wanted, but he couldn't deny the over-sweet drinks were usually the most interesting part of his day.
"Natalia?"
"Natasha, Buck."
Bucky rolled his eyes. Natalia had slipped on a new identity. He didn't begrudge her that - Lord knows he'd do the same if he could - but it was still hard to let go. She was one of the few good things - likely the only good thing - from his time under Hydra. A small part of him mourned her. Another part might have been a little bitter she was so eager to erase that part of her history. Of their history.
"Natasha, Rogers?"
Steve was still a punk. Seven decades hadn't changed a damn thing.
"According to Darce, Barton landed on her fire escape in the middle of the night, then he and Nat took off. M'guessing it's a mission."
"You don't sign off on missions?"
"Not anymore, Buck. I'm sure I've already told you that."
The tips of Steve's ears were gaining color and Bucky could see the set of his jaw tightening. "Oh, right. Guess it slipped my mind, Stevie. Forgot you'd quit your team in a snit. Ripped that symbol right off your arm, didn't you? Let Stark Jr keep your shield."
"Buck-"
He was picking at old wounds, he knew it, but he was bored and feeling a little vicious. Hadn't that therapist said he needed to just let himself feel his emotions rather than suppressing them? He was allowed to be petty. To be angry or annoyed. That was normal and isn't that what Steve and everyone wanted.
Steve, the stupid kid, was definitely grinding his nerves; acting like he wasn't itching to get back into the action. Steve Rogers sitting out a fight was the most unnatural thing in the world and he was doing it on account of Bucky. This thing with Stark, with leaving the Avengers, was just Steve's usual over-developed sense of loyalty roaring it's ugly head. Even though Bucky had told him, in as many words as he could muster, that he wasn't holding any grudges against Stark, Steve wasn't budging.
"How long are you gonna keep this shit up?" Bucky pressed on. "You'd really rather be sulking around here than fighting the good fight?"
Bucky watched as Steve tried to rein in his temper. He was breathing harshly through flared nostrils and purposely relaxing his fist. After just a couple of minutes, he actually did seem more calm.
"I won't be 'sulking' around here much longer."
Bucky's expression opened. "Oh, yeah? Where ya' headed, Steve?"
"New Mexico. Some part of Dr. Foster's equipment isn't collecting data the way it should. Darcy wants to take a look at it. You're free to come with."
At that Bucky laughed. "Nah. You go ahead. Third-wheelin' never looked like much fun."
"It wasn't," Steve scratched at the back of his head, "but it's not like that with Darce."
"Either way," Bucky shrugged, "I wouldn't mind a few days on my own."