"Sure thing," Rosie nodded, "Would you like the eggs crambled?" She asked, observing Steve's 'friend.' His messy brown hair and rough stubble made it seem like he'd just walked off a stage of a rock concert. There was no denying that he was attractive, and…strangely familiar, but he shared the same troubled look that she'd seen on Steve. As if he had seen something not quite right– disturbing.
Bucky nodded a little. "Yes please." He replied, mustering up a small smile for the waitress. "Thank you." He shifted, hiding his left hand under his right, so that she couldn't see. He didn't know if he had appeared on the news in any way, and he didn't need to find out the hard way.
"You're very welcome," She nodded, smiling at Steve knowingly before she left to the kitchen. He smiled, turning back to Bucky. "So, yeah…After this, we can go to Stark Tower and get you set up. I'll be staying there too for some time, just to keep you company and answer any questions Tony and company might have."
Bucky nodded a little. "Alright." he replied, tugging on his left sleeve. "Uhm…thank you." he added the two words after a moment of thinking. He sighed softly, unsure what to do or say, or where to look in the room. This was all new territory to him. He had no idea at all of what he was supposed to be doing.
Steve sighed, watching Bucky's eyes flicker around like he was lost in a new world. "Yeah– it's a little much at first." He said, nodding understandingly, "They tried to trick me; with a fake room and an old recording of a baseball game. Not the best way..but it was just… a lot."
Bucky glanced at him again, and nodded a little. "Yes. But…you have all your memories. I…do not." he knew that that wasn't not a great thing. Not at all. The memory of his handler flashed through his head again, their hands in his hair, down his chest- he closed his eyes, trying to block it out.
"I know," Steve said, slowly, and I wish I could change that, "But, I feel your..exhaustion I guess. I know what it's like to be in a world– alone, and confused, to an extent." He looked down, remembering his thundering pulse as he'd been met with the masses of a crowd and flashing billboards surrounding him. "But you don't have to go through it alone."
"Yes." Bucky said simply. "But…" he frowned a little. "Irregardless of whether or not I have you, I am still alone." he gave a slight shrug. Alone because he was the only one that could see his memories. Alone, because he didn't know what he would remember, because it was not like Steve could have been there for every second of his life.
"What?" Steve questioned, "No, you're not alone." He shook his head, "You aren't alone– not anymore. I'm here. You don't have to go through all this pain or disorder by yourself. Share it with me, and we'll go through it together." At the veteran's support group he used to go to, they were encouraged to speak up about the experiences through war– 'sharing the pain,' is what they called it, and Steve knew that Bucky was going through a time of confusion and…retreat, it seemed, and this could be the first step towards healing.
Bucky snorted softly. "I don't want to." he replied finally. "Whatever's in my head…it's not something you want to know about." His handler with their hands everywhere and he couldn't say no to them, god he couldn't do anything but lie still and hope it would be over soon and hope they would stop and- He took a deep breath, raking his hand through his hair.
"Well, I can't help it if you won't tell me," Steve said, fiddling with his hands under the table, "But as for what you're feeling, or remembering– I do. I want to know. We've both had a good share of pain in our life, and the way I see it is that the only way we can really grow and move on from those times, is to share it with each other." He nodded,
"So, yes, all of your pain– I want to know about it. Because I care about you, and I don't want you to have it."
Bucky looked down at the table, shaking his head a little bit. "Steve. You don't want to know." he replied firmly, pushing away the memory that kept trying to resurface. Of all of them, why did it have to be that one? That one, the one that he really, really didn't want.
"I want to. How do you know what I want?" Steve persisted, taking care to not cause a scene. "Our past is the one thing that we have left of each other– and it's all we'll ever have, for now. Whatever it is, I want to know. You may not be ready to tell me– but just know I'm here, and I won't leave. I won't let you fall again." Steve nodded softly, forcing himself to meet Bucky's eyes; the same ones that had slipped from his grasp and into a wintery abyss, one that wasn't death.
Bucky's fists clenched for a moment, and he looked away, his blue eyes pained and distant. "I don't want to tell you." he replied after a moment. "It isn't your business anymore. We may have been friends once, but i don't remember any of that. Stop asking me to blindly trust you." his voice was cold. Shut off.
Steve's bottom jaw almost hit the floor, What? It was like that, then.
"I–" Steve stuttered, at a loss for words. He had just been vulnerable; something really hard to be around someone you cared for so deeply but didn't really know anymore. "Okay, then." He said quietly, shifting his focus someplace else.
Thankfully, Rosie had walked back to their table with breakfast. "Enjoy," She smiled, placing their meals down and immediately noticed their change of energy.
Bucky didn't look at Steve, his attention focused on the table. He looked up when Rosie came back, mustering up a tight smile. "Thank you." he said, taking his plate and picking the fork up. He kept his left hand hidden in the shadows, his eyebrows pushed together. He didn't quite know what else to say.
(should we timeskip to a car whirring to the diner to pick them up? idk)
(yeah sure. Want me to do it, or do you want to?)
(you can do if u like– tony or someone :)
(alright)
Tony pulled up in front of the diner, and peeked inside. He called Steve, putting the phone to his ear. "Steve? I'm here to pick you and the assassin up." He said when Steve answered.
Bucky was silent. He had finished up his food a little while ago, and was trying to ignore Steve. He didn't know what to say or do or anything.
"–Don't call him that. We'll be out in a minute." Steve said, hanging up and pulling out some crumpled bills from his pocket, lightly patting the table. "Right. Tony's giving us a ride. He's outside." Steve said, nodding to the front where Tony's sleek car idled, waiting for them.
Bucky took a deep breath, and nodded. "Alright." He stood up and followed Steve outside, quiet. His shoulders were hunched just a little bit, and his pale blue eyes flickered over the car curiously.
Tony poked his head out. "Come on, senior citizens." He said teasingly. "I don't have all day, you know."
Steve rolled his eyes at the remark and shuffled into the back seat, he's never gonna let me forget.
The interior of Tony's car was impeccable, with sleek and shiny black upholstery and blue detailing.
Steve paused, about to clip in his seatbelt, "–Wait, how did you know where we were?"
Tony blinked. "Uhm…" he sighed. "I looked for a concentration of vibranium using my satellites, and narrowed it down to the one that must be his arm." he replied, gesturing at Bucky. "That's how."
Bucky frowned a little as he sat down, not bothering to buckle up. He had not considered that someone might be able to find him using the method Tony did. It did not bode well, if he could be found quite so easily.
"Huh." Steve sounded. It mostly made sense, even though the concept of pinpointing by satellite was still a topic he didn't know much of. As they weaved through traffic he couldn't help but notice how effortlessly and smoothly the car drove– he could hardly feel a thing.