Chapter Text
Steve used to play a game with his Ma before she passed. It was a simple game requiring little thought and, even better, no money. All he had to do was listen to the noise outside his window. There was no shortage of that in Brooklyn. New York was the city that never slept, even in the 1930s. So, he would play it on the nights when his thoughts were too loud or his breathing a little too shallow. Steve would listen to a specific voice or guess where a car was headed. It was a quick and easy way to distract himself from everything he didn’t want to think about.
Steve would still pull out that old trick occasionally, which usually helped him center himself in the present. But from a hundred stories up in Avengers Tower, not even his ears could pick up the noise from the streets below.
He doubted it would do much for him right now, anyway.
Steve wasn’t sure how long it had been since he had planted himself at the bottom of his bed in his dark bedroom. The glow from the moon filtered in through his windows, but he didn’t pay much mind to his surroundings. There was too much going on inside his head: too many questions and not enough answers. A million thoughts were trying to push their way to the forefront, and he felt he couldn’t even hold on to one.
That wasn’t true. Steve knew one thing - he needed to fix this.
Everything inside of him ached to move, to act. To go to Tony and- what? What could he do? What could he say? He didn’t have a speech ready this time. All he had was himself to blame. Even if he went to Tony and told him how sorry he was, how much he missed him, how much he-
It wouldn’t matter. He had broken whatever he thought they had and didn’t know how to start fixing it. He didn’t trust himself not to make it worse in his desperation. Steve had thought he was making the right choices before and somehow made all the wrong ones instead. He could try to make excuses for himself: it was a challenging situation all around, he didn’t have time to think everything through, there were ulterior motives in play that they didn't know about. But when it all boiled down to it, he had made poor choices that had hurt people he cared about.
Choices that hurt Tony and any choice that does that is wrong.
Steve took a shaky breath and leaned back against his mattress. He felt stuck, trapped on the floor of his bedroom. Rationally, he knew he could move and do whatever he pleased. But he also knew that if and when he stood up, he would only have two choices. Steve could do something, or he could do nothing. He wasn't about to do nothing. This was too important - Tony was too important for him just to sweep all of it under the rug. No, Steve knew he had to do something, but he didn’t know what he was going to do. And he knew now that doing the wrong thing would worsen things.
He needed to be sure of his next move before he did anything, and he refused to ‘go off half-cocked’ as Bucky had so eloquently put it earlier this evening.
I might just have to stay on this floor forever.
As if in answer to that thought, a knock sounded on his bedroom door.
“Steve?” Bucky's voice inquired gently. Steve sighed loudly. Of course, his best friend would follow up with him about the conversation that must have followed after his exit from the dinner table. “Steve,” Bucky said again - no longer questioning. “I’m gonna come in either way. It’s up to you whether I have to knock down the door to do it”. Steve let out a small chuckle before leaning his head back against his mattress.
“It’s already open, you jerk.” Steve made a half-hearted attempt at wiping his eyes.
Bucky's silhouette slipped through the barely opened door and closed it with a soft click before turning to face Steve. For a moment, his best friend stood and watched him. For the first time since leaving the lab, Steve wondered what he must look like. His hair had to be a mess from the constant fingers running through the stands, and his eyes were red and puffy. He hadn’t even made it onto the bed and sat hunched on the floor.
How many people would pay to see Captain America like this?
Bucky sat down next to Steve, mirroring his position.
“I take it the conversation didn’t go as you’d hoped, huh?”
Steve responded with a self-deprecating scoff. The emotions he had barely managed to handle came bubbling up once again. His eyes filled, and he dropped his head back into his hands. It didn’t even cross his mind to conceal his turmoil from Bucky. If he knew Bucky at all, He knew his friend had already figured out exactly what Tony was to him. If he had any doubts, they vanished when Bucky silently placed his hand on his shoulder. Steve doubted there was anything he could say that Bucky hadn't already guessed.
They stayed like that for some time while Steve attempted to calm himself down again. Once he slowed the tears and wiped his eyes, he leaned his head back against the mattress again.
“I wasn’t expecting it to go well, but I-“ Steve took a shaky breath. “I couldn’t even say anything. God, Buck, I knew that I had a lot to apologize for, but I never imagined that I had hurt him so much. I never thought I had the power to. I knew it was killing me, but I didn’t think- If I had known that he…” Steve ran his finger through his hair, frustrated.
“That he what?” Bucky said quietly.
Steve looked over at him. “What?” He asked.
“You said ‘if you’d known that he…’” Bucky elaborated. “That he what? Say it, Steve.”
Steve was so tired of crying. His breath caught in his throat, and a small sob escaped his lips.
“He was in love with me, too.” Steve choked out. “He was in love with me, and I-“ Bucky felt his eyes burn in sympathy for his best friend. “I would have done so much differently. I would have anyway, but knowing now that- I never thought I was hurting him like that. I thought I would be the one to bear the brunt of everything. Of being apart. I thought I would have to feel the pain of losing him.” Bucky watched as Steve flinched as if burned by his next words before he spoke them. “I didn’t know he would feel the pain of me leaving him.”
It was the last Steve could get out before crumbling in on himself. It felt like every sob was tearing him up on its way to his lips. He clutched at his chest like he used to do a lifetime ago when he was young and couldn’t breathe.
For a moment, that’s what it reminded Bucky of. He remembered watching Steve struggle for every breath in and hoping those breaths weren’t as painful as they sounded. But no, looking at Steve in front of him now and knowing what was causing his turmoil, Bucky knew that this was the most agony Steve had ever been in. He wished he could do more to help him through it, but he also knew that nothing he could do or say would lighten Steve’s burden. All he could do was sit there with his best friend while the super soldier proved he could cry himself dry.
“Did he say that he was in love with you?”
Steve shook his head. “He didn’t have to.”
Bucky gave a soft laugh, and Steve turned to him questioningly. Bucky put his hands up in a show of peace.
“I’m sorry, I just-“ He chuckled. “I was wondering what it was gonna take.” Steve groaned. “Look, this is a good thing. Maybe things had to get worse before they got better. Now that you both know where the other is coming from, you can start to build some of that trust back.” Bucky said as if he could speak it into reality. He thought it might help to give Steve a silver lining to it all.
“How?” Steve asked desperately.
Bucky smiled gently and laid a hand on Steve’s shoulder.
“That, my friend is up to you.”