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[bottledblond]

Not every universe in the far and wide cosmos is as lucky (however unlucky itself that seems) to encounter Thanos during a time where people live who can do something about it. Steve Rogers, a particular version of Steve Rogers who had only just suffered through his first night of basic training in New Jersey as part of the Army’s Project Rebirth and thus had not yet become Captain America, bent to untie his shoes and saw his hands begin to disintegrate. He doesn’t panic, panicking is for people who do not live like every breath is their last. Instead, he blinks in surprise as the barracks fill with shouting. He has time to contemplate two things. One, he wishes he’d done more with his life. And two, he hopes Bucky will do all right.

He’s still thinking about that last issue when he exhales his last in a universe where Captain America never existed and finishes it bent over in the ruins of the barracks, roof half open to the sky and walls a burnt and ashy gray.

It takes him an hour to get to the road and by then, his asthma is already getting the best of him. He blacks out for the second time ‘that day’ and wakes up staring at the ceiling of what is obviously a hospital.

It just doesn’t sound or smell like a hospital. Sure. People are running around and yelling, but it smells painfully clean, artificially so, and there are machines he’s never seen before connected by wires to his body. He does the thing people should never do and yanks them loose. The machines squawk strangely and frantically and Steve is almost out of bed when two large men in green pajamas force him back.

Nothing makes sense to him for days. People come to talk to him, to find out who he is and who his family is. Evidently Steve Rogers is a popular name, because they bring in more people to talk to him, to ask him questions about his life, but no one has any answers.

He explodes, as he’s wont to do when frustrated, demands answers, but nothing they say makes sense.

By then, the war is over. Not World War II, which has evidently been over for over half a century, but this new war. And Bucky Barnes had been told of his presence. Steve is in bed, arms crossed, looking dour and getting an infusion of something that honestly is helping him breathe better when Bucky bursts into his now private room. It’s been two months

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[bottledblond]

“I missed so much,” Steve says. “So much of your life is a mystery to me and I— This is the second time you’ve told me that you had a bunch of goats, so how about you tell me about them?”

What Steve really wants to hear about is tales of strength and brute force, he wants the adrenaline to have somewhere to go as it careens around his body.

Any story about Bucky is worth it though.

[woundedwinter]

"Heh," Bucky could get his phone and show Steve pictures but he'd much rather stay right where he is at the moment. So he tells Steve about the border tribe in Wakanda, how they opened their arms for him and gave him a sense of peace and a sense of purpose.

He talks about training. About some of the lighter missions with the Avengers. Shark men and robots. Nothing that would have him startling awake later.

A hundred years is a long damn time to live and not all of it was choked in horror and death.

[bottledblond]

Over the course of the adventure tales, Steve crept a little closer, knees bending for awhile until he had to cross them like a school kid to get as close to Bucky as he wanted. His shins touched the other man’s thigh, though, and for a moment, he was transported back to their childhood where Bucky would read him fantastic stories out of penny and dime novels because his eyes couldn't take the strain after dark.

“And then what happened after Stark drank the Asgardian ale?” he prompts, yawning and still excited. The clock tells the time as just after two in the morning.

[woundedwinter]

It feels familiar, telling stories in the dark as Steve listens and asks questions along the way. The stories are fun to tell and serve to remind them both that not all of his life has been horror and torture.

He laughs, "He took off to his workshop for three straight days and built some pretty incredible and terrifying stuff. Thor was impressed. He came out after an explosion and his shirt had been dyed pink."

"I don't think I'd ever seen Bruce laugh so hard."

[bottledblond]

Ah. Bruce Banner. The guy that got mad and turned to a big green creature called the Hulk whom had loved the rich, eccentric inventor until he died while they all saved the world.

He’s seen photos of the pair, heard their stories, and is pretty sad that he’ll never get to meet one of them.

Steve doesn’t say anything that might make the moment sad, though he’s thinking about what he might do if the person he loved died on him. He does let his smile cool, but it’s a soft transition back to his resting face.

“I hope I get to have stories like these with you one day,” he says, eyes big and bright despite the hour. He knows that he’s speaking innocuously but he can’t help but wonder what it might be like if he and Bucky were like Tony and Bruce.

[woundedwinter]

His heart had ached for Bruce when Stark fell, sacrificing his life to save them all. They lost so much in the fight, but he'd been able to make his peace with the man before he died. So that was something.

A fond smile, "We got the rest of our lives for stories like that, you'll see."

He blinks, looking outside. When the hell did it get so late? "But we should probably turn in, it's late."

[bottledblond]

“Is tonight a bed night or a floor night?” They’re going to have to talk about actual sleeping arrangements soon. It’s obvious that Bucky considers them a package deal but this place is so Spartan and so cold and so filled with things that Steve doesn’t understand that he feels like an outsider here.

Bucky will likely want his own place, or Steve will start to get on his nerves before too long but he’s got no idea where to even start to look for a place.

And when he does, he’s probably going to be able to afford only a few newspapers in an alley somewhere.

[woundedwinter]

He rubs the back of his neck. "Bed should be okay. If I need to move, I'll sneak out later."

Maybe with Steve getting settled he can help make the place feel more like a home. He's already buying more food and ordering clothes, next they can try and focus on things to make his apartment nicer. Welcoming.

"I'll make flapjacks in the morning too."

[bottledblond]

“I’m not sure if that’s a threat,” Steve says, yawning behind his hand as he unfolds his legs to hobble off towards the bathroom. The pain killers are wearing off and his whole body is annoyed by the fact that he’d overdone it for the day. No matter, a little sleep should help.

He gets himself ready for bed, wearing one of the plain tees that Bucky had bought for him. He looks great in blue but the dark purple brings out the color of his eyes even more, though he only flashes his now blurry gaze at Bucky briefly as he heads across the hall to the bedroom.

Steve claims his side of the bed, light out, as he listens to Bucky get himself ready. The depression of the mattress beside him causes Steve to smile into his upper arm.

He’s allowed his fantasies, he thinks, though having them with the image of Bucky in the shower ends up being more of a curse than a blessing.

[woundedwinter]

Dark purple is amazing on Steve and he'll have to introduce him to Barton at some point. Bucky cleans up quickly and crawls into bed with Steve. He wishes he could gather him close, hold him in his arms to ward off the nightmares.

But that's probably asking too much of Steve.

He closes his eyes and breathes out.

"G'night Stevie."

[bottledblond]

Bucky would be surprised, though they both would have that honor if either one dared make a move.

As usual, Steve shimmies back towards Bucky in his sleep and while it’s certainly not as good as being held, the feel of the other’s arm against his back is a solid and stabilizing presence that keeps Steve asleep long past morning.

Wherever Bucky ends up being in the morning, his phone will go off nice and early.

It’s Sam again.

“Woo and Doctor Lewis said that this group has hit up at least two more artifact sights. They’re all super soldiers, Buck. All of them. We’re clocking at least ten.”

[woundedwinter]

With Steve close and having spent the evening talking about better days, he sleeps until almost dawn, blinking in surprise when he looks at his watch.

Huh.

Breakfast is cooking and coffee brewing when he gets the call.

"Ten supersoldiers. How in the hell are there ten when for eighty years there were only two?"

He swears under his breath, fixing coffee for them both.

[bottledblond]

“That’s what I want to know,” Sam says, frowning hard into the phone. “There were those five test subjects in Siberia, right? But it failed. It failed so who figured out the right mix of chemicals and heavy machinery?”

Sam doesn’t really doubt that it isn’t possible for someone else to figure it out but it does seem pretty unlikely without all of the proceeding research.

“Do you think HYDRA is still up to their old games?”

[woundedwinter]

He breathes out through his nose, taking a moment to think. He's got decades of old HYDRA secrets locked away in his head, contacts and safe houses. "It wouldn't surprise me. Look, I need to make some calls and check a few things. If they're moving, I'll find out."

"Have them send me what they've collected."

So much for living quietly with Steve, but he gets the feeling his best friend would be happier in the thick of things, serum or no.

Bucky glances back at the bedroom. He may be planning something that Sam will object to, but he's objected to a lot already. What's one more thing?

[bottledblond]

Steve is still asleep. He’s moved over to the spot that Bucky had left and has one foot hanging out of the covers with his arms around the other man’s pillow. It’s been a tough, long day for him and not even pancakes or coffee would rouse him.

It would give Bucky time to make his calls before he woke up Steve, though it may be the last time he has this sort of privacy. Steve certainly can be nosey.

[woundedwinter]

Bucky makes calls in Russian, German and even French as he walks the small apartment. Sure he glances in to watch Steve as he sleeps, silent as a panther, but only to watch over him.

Maybe. Maybe he can make this work.

Eventually he calls Sam back with a plan. He knows HYDRA secrets but not all of them. However they do know someone who does.

Bucky sits on the edge of the bed, reaching to touch Steve's shoulder. He's warm and peaceful and a part of him wants to curl back up with him. "C'mon sleepy. Revelie happened a while back."

[bottledblond]

Steve had reached up wrap his fingers around Bucky’s thumb. They’re rough, long and thin. They’re the hands of a kid that grew up hard and malnourished, who worked however he could when he was terribly sick. After the serum, they’d become something else. No softer, but so much larger than Bucky’s, and so much stronger too. He’d been able to pull him up, prop him up—

Now, the weight is all back on Bucky’s shoulders, even if one is made of metal.

The mention of being late to role call, even if he’d only been through it once over two months ago, has blue eyes flying open. He’s halfway up when he realizes where he is and that Bucky is just being an ass. He gives the man’s hand a playfully annoyed shove and sits up further.

“I was having this dream that the pancakes came to life and were speaking to me in German,” he murmurs. “What time is it?”

[woundedwinter]

Steve was always the stronger of them. For now Bucky can take the weight as he starts to sketch out plans in his head. He laughs as Steve shoves him. "That's probably because you heard me on the phone. Go on and eat up and shower, we got work to do."

While Steve eats and he eats (again) he tells him about Siberia and the other soldiers as well as the ones they've been tracking.

"I have some contacts within HYDRA we can talk to."

[bottledblond]

“Uh...” Steve lowers the fork from his mouth slowly. He’d been eating the entire time up until the point that HYDRA was mentioned. The pancake piece falls from the silverware. “HYDRA? Buck, Buck really... why do you still have contacts?”

He taps his thumbs on the counter and straightens his shoulders.

“Whatever you do—. I’m with you, pal. Even if you’re going to do something dumb.”

[woundedwinter]

It makes him sick the way that Steve looks at him, but he swallows his coffee and keeps talking. "They're people who worked with and for HYDRA because of money or because they were afraid. Not HYDRA proper, but close enough."

Steve's loyalty will always warm him through and he smiles. "You got no idea what that means to me, Steve. I promise we're going to try and stop whatever they're up to."

"As a team."

[bottledblond]

He’d seen this on television. It’s called a fist bump and Steve lifts his hand with his fingers curled in to tap his knuckles on the other man’s. “Someone needs to keep you out of trouble,” he says.

There’s got to be a good reason Bucky would still keep tabs on people. Steve trusts the guy. He trusts his judgement. And he knows Bucky has his back.

“Let me take a shower and pack a bag. You can teach me some German on the way.”

[woundedwinter]

The fist bump is appreciated and it helps ease Bucky's shoulders back down to where they should be.

"It's always been you, pal." In more ways than one.

"Finish up and I'll get us a flight out." Hopefully Sam can get them a military flight so they don't have to go commercial. His arm is.. difficult to explain.

[bottledblond]

“Flight?” Steve perks up. He’s always wanted tl fly! “Where are we going? Is it Germany? Wow, I read that they’re a lot different now. As a country and a people....”

He’s still talking to himself as he heads back to take a quick shower and to get dressed. He’s glad for the choice of clothing now. He also packs a bag for Bucky and is ready in record time.

They’re in luck too. Sam has a lot of friends in the Air Force and they’re already booked on the next flight out from the base.

[woundedwinter]

Bucky smiles as Steve takes off, chattering to himself and it's beautiful. He's looking forward to a trip and seeing Europe and it's so very different from shipping out to war.

A pleased smile when he realizes Steve packs a bag for him, hooking an arm around him as they head out to meet Sam for the flight.

"I'll teach all the good stuff like swearing," he promises.

[bottledblond]

Knocking against Bucky’s side, Steve reaches up to grab hold of the other man’s wrist. They can’t get through the door like this, but Steve’s close to him for as long as he can be.

He’s almost bouncing off of the walls when they get up into the jet. It’s not a great way to fly, with only jumpseats and battened down cargo netting, but Steve is still thrilled.

Sam, maybe not so much. As the crew does their flight checks, Sam pulls Bucky aside.

“You really sure about this?”