ninception | (no subject)

Steve doesn't argue, not right now. It can wait until he's able to push it a little more.

The smell of food cooking on the hot plate is a lot like heaven right now, and even with the situation looking as good as it's going to get, he's still tempted to fight through the pain and sit up again. Bucky would probably get annoyed with him, so he refrains. He takes the bottle, the water, and twists the bottle open, careful not to break the plastic in his hands. There's enough in there for both of them, and he carefully and deliberately plates a double dose in Bucky's hands before the man can walk off back to the kitchen.

"There," he says, quickly downing his own pills. He offers the rest of the water to Bucky, offering a gentle look. "At least one of us could walk away from there. I don't want to think about what would have happened to you otherwise. I couldn't forgive myself if SHIELD got their hands on you." Not when SHIELD had been the same exact thing as HYDRA all along.

The pills will do very little for him, but the look on Rogers' face does something to him. It makes him feel like he should take them anyway, so he pops them back and swallows them dry without argument. Something about this feels familiar, like he's taken care of Rogers before, but he can't remember ever taking care of anyone. This is the opposite of what he normally does.

He's not sure what they would have done, either, but he can't trust any of them. Not HYDRA or what's left of SHIELD or any government. This is a situation he has to navigate on his own.

"They won't." It's a promise of sorts and the feelings suddenly swelling in his chest are foreign and confusing, so he steps away to stir the food and break eye contact.

Steve offers an encouraging smile. Good, that's good. It's a sign of trust, or at the very least of wanting to reciprocate something, even if Bucky isn't entirely aware of what it means. He stays in the bed, watching as Bucky turns away. He doesn't believe they'll be found, not with SHIELD in disarray. They both slipped under the radar, and even if a part of him feels bad for leaving his friends in a lurch, and a new friend likely a little devastated, it's for the best.

"I believe you," Steve says, because he does.

He's silent for a while, before it becomes too uncomfortable for him. The Bucky he remembers would never have let silence linger for so long. "You know, I almost miss how we'd get creative, having to scrape money together for rations. It wasn't easy, but you used to make everything taste amazing anyway."

He doesn't remember anyone ever not believing him, but for some reason this seems significant. It's like a weight off his shoulders to feel that sense of faith and he's torn between knowing his own high competence and wondering what he's done to earn it in Rogers' eyes.

It's the next statement that really throws him, though. He keeps stirring the beans, but his face is almost pained, then guilty when he finally looks over again.

"I don't remember that." His brow furrows. It's time to take a leap of faith. He doesn't like it, but he trusts this man at least a little more than he can trust anyone else right now, maybe even his own mind. "I don't remember anything."

He looks away again to wipe out two old dishes and distribute the beans between them.

Bucky's guilty look does thing to him, he's not sure how to handle it. In the past, if anyone was giving a pained look the other was rushing to soothe, it was Bucky doing the smoothing things over. Usually by teasing Steve to lighten the mood. Steve doesn't think he could do anything like that if his life depended on it right now, but he can offer what he hopes is going to end up being a way to get Bucky to trust him.

Because whatever HYDRA did to him, there was never trust involved.

"That's okay, pal," he says easily. "We can work on that. One step at a time, right?"

His stomach chooses now to give a big rumble of approval at the smell of real food at last. It has been a while since he last ate.

The Soldier just looks back at Steve for a moment, unsure of what to make of him. There's so much he's unsure of here. How can Rogers care so much about him when he's just plainly told him he remembers nothing. He's not the man Rogers wants him to be, but he's not sure exactly who he is, either. He knows he's been with HYDRA a long time, but even that is fuzzy. He's sure he's been with them much longer than he can remember, so it's not out of the realm of possibility that before that he really was the person Rogers believes he is, but he can't be that person if he can't remember any of it.

He gathers his thoughts and brings both dishes, now complete with forks, to the cot. They both get placed on the floor so that he can lean over Rogers and slip his arm under his shoulders to help him sit up so he can eat. The touch isn't quite gentle, but he's not rough, either. He's already seen that Rogers can't sit up on his own and he doesn't want to do any more damage to him.

"The first step is getting you food and rest." There's no apparent humor on his face, but he gets the distinct impression that there should be, like he'd smile if he remembered how.

Steve lets Bucky help him up, frowning a little at the pain, but overall trying to act like the painkillers have done something for him. Unfortunately, Steve has always been a terrible liar. Still, he manages not to shout in pain, and sits up without too much trouble.

He nods at the statement. Yes, food is good. "Right as always," he says, but he offers a weak smile. "Once I'm healed up enough to walk, we can talk about what the plan is," Steve says easily. Whether that's running, hunkering down for a few days... Steve doesn't mind. His own plans tend to be impulsive; he acts before he can think things through, relies on gut instinct more than anything else. "I heal fast; I'll be back to normal by tomorrow."

Probably. He hasn't exactly been this injured before.

He can't help it if his hand lingers on Steve's back for a moment before he pulls away to hand him a dish. He's just making sure that Steve is able to sit up, he tells himself, but he knows something is shifting here even if he has no context for what it is.

Once he's satisfied that Steve is able to eat, he sits on the ground with his back against the side of the cot and pulls his own food into his lap. It's not gourmet. Hell, it's not even seasoned, but he's used to eating only for nutrition and he hopes the beans will be inoffensive for Steve, too.

"We should assume anything owned by SHIELD is compromised." Whether it's a person or a safehouse or anything in between, he doesn't trust anything that could bring HYDRA or any other agency down on them. At least one of them won't survive it.

"That's what I thought," Steve says. He sounds serious, like he's trying to think about what to do. He doesn't have a way to contact anyone right now, and even if he did, there are only a couple of people he thinks he could trust. He eats without complaint, because even now it's not like Steve has ever enjoyed fancy four-star meals.

"You know, before Insight, I was thinking of leaving SHIELD. I guess I got my wish." He's not sure why he's admitting it, especially to someone who clearly doesn't remember much of anything. It's not Bucky's fault, of course, but Steve needs something to keep the silence from growing uncomfortable.

In the past, Bucky would have been able to call Steve out on his nerves, but he's not sure Bucky is capable of that right now. He falls silent again, to finish eating. It's just beans; he's had far worse, especially from military weapons, so he doesn't have any complaints.

He's silent for a moment, letting it stretch between them as he thinks about those words and the weight of them. The food is adequate for him to ignore the taste of it as he loses himself in his thoughts.

"I don't think they would have allowed me to want to leave." Because he'd left now and it's the first thing he can remember ever doing for himself, but what else has he forgotten? Maybe he'd tried to leave before or at least thought about it. He doesn't know, but he doesn't think they'd cared very much about what he'd wanted.

"And I'm not going back."

Walking away had been rash, but the longer he has time to think, the more he thinks it was the right one and with Steve here, he might actually be able to get some answers. He's never relied on someone like this. He's had handlers, but this is different. Steve isn't giving him orders, but he thinks the man is worth keeping around, at least for now. He's not unaware of the shift in his regard of him, from Rogers the mission to Steve, whatever that means now. Hostage? Backup?

"I don't think they would have either," Steve agrees. The fact that Bucky had been trapped by HYDRA, went through god-knows-what for seventy years, is enough to make his blood boil. But then he goes and says he's not going back, and Steve feels some of his anger dissipate. He looks up at Bucky trying to give an encouraging smile between mouthfuls of beans he thinks would taste better with some salt and chicken.

"You can do what you want now," he says eventually, though it's quieter than he's spoken so far. He refuses to be like HYDRA, to try and force Bucky to come with him even if that's what he desperately wants.

"I mean, we should probably lay low for a little while. Wait for the dust to clear. I know of a few SHIELD locations we might be able to stock up at, but they might be too risky for a few weeks." It's not like they can go shopping for clothing, and Steve would never steal from anyone trying to make an honest living.

He finishes the bowl of beans, setting it on the floor carefully, though he doesn't try to lie back down because he's not sure he should risk it.

The smile makes him feel so off-balance. What's he supposed to do with that? His muscles don't even remember how to return it, but for a moment, there's a much softer look on his face, like he wants to give the same reassurance he's being given. No one ever smiles at him like that. Most of the time, people talk around him unless they want something from him.

He can do what he wants. He knows that. If he wanted, he could leave Steve here and never see him again, but he doesn't want that. Steve has all the answers he wants. Hell, Steve has him wanting anything at all. That alone is unfamiliar.

"We will." If this place is compromised, he'll find someplace else for them. They don't need much to survive, especially once they've healed. His language is careful, though. He wants them to do it together.

Going back to his food, he's not sure what else to say. Making his own decisions isn't exactly something he's used to.

Steve nods at the comment. He takes it as a promise, as something Bucky is saying because he means it. Laying low is good, Steve can do it. Especially if it means being with Bucky, and trying to get more of the man to emerge from whatever HYDRA did to him. But he won't push, not now.

He watches Bucky eat for a long moment before he looks away, trying to find anything at all in the safe house he can pay attention to that isn't openly staring at his friend who must be thinking about millions of things all at once in his head. Or at least that's Steve right now. He doesn't say much else, feeling uncomfortable suddenly, awkward.

It's only once he's pretty sure Bucky has finished eating that he speaks, mumbles a, "Buck, I don't think I'm going to be able to lie down on my own." He doesn't want to risk wording anything he says so it can sound like an order, resorting to statement with implicit requests in them. Is that okay?

He really hopes it's okay.

He'd been so lost in thought, he hadn't remembered that Steve needs his help to move. That's the sort of thoughtfulness that he just isn't capable of right now. He wonders at the idea of being able to think about someone else's needs like that. The idea of wanting to be doesn't feel entirely foreign.

His dish is placed out of the way on the floor and he moves onto his knees next to the bed. This time when his arm goes to support Steve's back, the touch is a little more gentle.

"Lean back. I've got you." The words feel unfamiliar to him, but they feel right. It's almost like he's done this before--taken care of Steve like this.

There are so many questions he wants to ask, but they can wait until Steve can at least sit up on his own. He thinks they really do want some of the same things, at least for now, and that's a good thing. In any case, he won't leave Steve to fend for himself like this. Steve may have his memories, but the same people were using both of them, weren't they? In a lot of ways, they're the same.

The gentle touch throws him, but only for a moment. He gives Bucky a gentle look, only groaning in a little bit of pain while he's being helped down. He's still sore, still hurts, but he's doing what he can to not act like he's in pain in front of Bucky. "You've always been good at watching my six," Steve murmurs. Once he's laying down, he falls quiet. He isn't going to be sleeping anytime soon, not until he's healed, but like this, he's at least capable of relaxing a little more.

"I used to get sick all the time when I was a kid," he says suddenly, surprising himself. He doesn't word it asking if Bucky remembers, instead launching into the rest of the story, like he's telling it to someone he doesn't know well. "You used to fuss at me about staying in bed. I never wanted to stay in bed for long, because that meant funds were going to be tight. They were always tight, but I always felt guilty when I was too sick to work."

He falls quiet after telling his story, groaning, but trying to relax.

Once Steve is lying down again, he takes the dishes and stands to bring them to the small sink. It seems that Steve likes to say things like that and it's related enough to the questions he has that it only gives him more to ask later and focuses them to be more specific.

"Sometimes on a mission, you have to accept the fact that someone else's skill set allows them to do more of the work." It's the closest he can relate and he's used to being the one to do the bulk of the work, but he's always taken a certain sense of pride in that. It's the most they'd allowed him.

He comes back to the cot and sits on the floor with his back against it. The gun is back in his hand now as he settles into a position he can rest in while still watching the door.

"Get some sleep."

Steve doesn't speak right away, but he smiles slightly at what Bucky is saying. It's such a strange way of putting it, but at least he can relate to what Steve is saying, even a little. "Yeah," Steve agrees. "I need to remind myself that more often." It's true enough, how he finds himself believing he's the one who should carry the world on his shoulders, often to the cost of his own health.

He tracks Bucky's movement, just to watch him curiously. It's only once his friend returns to his side that Steve is able to relax. It's such a strange thing to see, Bucky resting up against him with a gun in his arms. It reminds him of the war.

"I'll try," Steve says, because he can't lie to save his life and isn't sure he can sleep, but at least he can rest a little. It must be the strangeness of the situation at hand, the fact that he's with his friend he had thought dead for years, because Steve does manage to nod off, breathing deeply as he falls into an uneasy sleep.

As Steve rests, the Soldier lets his mind wander. He doesn't feel like Bucky, couldn't say what that would feel like if he wanted to, but he knows that Steve means him when he says it. Maybe that's all he'll ever know of what being Bucky felt like, but he thinks he could pretend if he had to. Steve spills details already like he's never met a spy and the Soldier is more an assassin than a true spy, but he's not unfamiliar with espionage, either.

He could soak up the details and wear Bucky like a suit with only what Steve volunteers and Steve would be none the wiser. Maybe he will, if only to keep Steve close and to give himself the reliable backup of a man stuck in his own past.

Or maybe he'll do it because he likes the way Steve looks at him when he's recalling Bucky. No one's ever looked at him like that before.

Once Steve's breath slows, he lets himself really watch the man's face. There's an odd sense of something in his chest that he can't identify. He might say it feels like coming home, but he's never felt that way about any place.

Eventually Steve drifts into something a bit more restful. His brows are knitted together, probably from the pain. It's not like he's a particularly good liar to begin with, and the off-guarded nature of sleep means there's nothing to really disguise the painful, stuttering noises he makes every once in a while that indicate shifting even a little hurts like hell.

One arm droops from the bed, in a way that makes him look relaxed despite the pain, brushing up against Bucky, even if only a little bit.

Honestly, he likely won't be asleep for long, but right now, he looks as peaceful as he can for a man with multiple broken bones. It's not the most obvious thing, but so close to Steve the Soldier should be able to see that Steve's milder injuries are already starting to heal.

He's listening for any sounds outside, but he honestly loses himself a little bit in watching Steve's sleeping face and when Steve's arm brushes him, he's carefully still so he doesn't wake the man.

Keeping Steve safe is important, he realizes. It's easy to see why HYDRA saw such a threat in him when he sees all the damage Steve had been willing to take at the mere idea that he could have Bucky back.

Is this what Bucky had seen in him before? All that devotion and determination focused on another person like that seems like something a man could drown in. Just thinking about it makes him feel a little like he's drowning as it is.

Steve stirs a little, makes a faint noise before he stills again. His breathing has become a little more even, like his ribs have started to heal. His breathing is less jagged and pained. His lashes flutter a little, but he doesn't wake.

A good thirty minutes pass before he finally wakes.

Is Bucky still watching him?

As Steve stirs, the Soldier straightens up quickly, not sure if he's actually been caught or not. There are clear signs that Steve is healing already and he's glad for that. They'll wind up in a fight eventually, he's sure, and he'd rather not have to worry about Steve's ability to at least keep himself alive if things get violent.

He's also healed quite a bit, but he hadn't been nearly as hurt. Thinking of their fight does something to him. It sends his mind hurtling through the image of Steve under him, beaten and bloody. What if he hadn't stopped? What if he'd killed the other man? The idea makes him almost panic, but he's not sure why. He'd watched Steve fall, too, and he almost hadn't dove in after him. Steve would have drowned. Any normal person would have died on impact with the water.

There's a hitch in his breath as he gets lost in his thoughts.

Steve's eyes flutter open, and he looks to Bucky, blearily, frowning like he's not sure if he's still dreaming or not. And then he wakes enough to realize where he is and overs the slightest of smiles. He's still painful, but he's able to breathe in deeply without wincing.

"How long have I been asleep?" he asks. He doesn't think it's been long, but there's no easy way for him to check. He notices after a long moment that his arm has slipped off the bed at some point, and he pulls it back towards him, resting on his chest.

"You should probably sleep, too."

He'd argue, but he'd been so distracted that he might as well have been asleep half the time Steve had been. Steve's right, too, because if they do fight, he should be rested. Still, he wants to see Steve heal as much as he can.

"I can sleep down here."

He takes the gun and after a moment of hesitation, he holds it out to Steve. It's not as if he's a deep sleeper, but in the moment it takes him to wake up and react, a lot could happen. He'd feel better if whoever's awake has the gun.

"Anyone who walks through that door gets shot." Because they will be HYDRA and they won't take Steve alive before they take the Soldier back to be wiped again.

"Okay," Steve says, nodding. It's not like they can both fit on the bed. He's able to pull himself into a sitting position, though he winces in pain as he does. He's still not 100%, but he's healed enough, he thinks. At least enough to use the gun. He takes it with a nod. "I can do that," he says, doing a great job of putting on his Captain America voice, frowning.

It's not the first time he's kept watch, though it's been a long time since the War. "Get some sleep, Buck," he says, keeping his gaze locked on the door now. "I'll keep watch."