dysmorphics | it's you and me up against the world, it's you and me

"I got it a couple weeks ago," Bucky admitted, a slightly bashful look on his face. "It was, uh, one of those days where I had to actually go out and deal with some stuff. Stopping to get you a ring was one of my things to do that day, and I saw that one and... you know I like it when you wear blue. I've had it stashed in my backpack since then." The jeweler had tried to convince him to get her a diamond instead, something about tradition, and hadn't liked it when Bucky pointed out it hadn't been a tradition for long since it wasn't one when he grew up.

Bucky had looked up that so-called tradition later and saw that it didn't kick off until a different jewelry chain made it a tradition after the War, using nothing but advertising.

Besides, he knew Steph better than any random jeweler would.

When Steph stood and held her hand out to him, he laughed softly before grabbing it, then pulled her in so he could press a kiss to her fingers, right on top of that ring, before standing up and pulling her in close. "Thanks for saying yes," he said as he smiled down at her. "I was pretty sure you would, but I couldn't help being a little worried."

"I was hoping we'd get here, but I wasn't gonna rush you. You've been through... a lot." And what was Steph supposed to do anyway, propose? Did modern women do that? She hadn't actually thought to look it up on the Google, as she was just going to wait him out, however long it took. "But I was also a little worried you'd, I dunno, get tired of me before it happens."

Or realize he wanted to be with the Steph he grew up with after all, their big falling out be damned. Or leave because he was dangerous and broken and she was better off without him. She hadn't only been a little worried, but she had resigned herself to the fact that it was all up to him. They were together anyway. That was already more than she could ask for.

"Tired of you?" Bucky was a little surprised by that statement. Frowning, he sat back down on the bench and pulled her over so she was standing between his open knees. Looking up at her, he reached up with his good hand to cup her cheek gently. "Stephanie Grace Rogers, I promise you I'm never gonna get tired of you."

He shook his head before adding, "If anything, I've been worried you'd get tired of me, sweetheart. I mean, I'm a cranky old man that doesn't like going out much, has a hell of a lot of trauma and nightmares, and has a future that's still kinda up in the air. I'm not exactly a catch here." Chuckling a little, he gave her a soft smile. "You, on the other hand, are young and beautiful and, here where the medicine's a lot better, a hell of a lot healthier than you used to be. You're fun and an amazing artist and just... the best person I know."

"Hey, none of that now," Steph chided, frowning. She slipped her hands into Bucky's hair, no longer caring if people were watching. None of that mattered, just him. "Let's go home. I wanna remind you how wrong you are. You're everything I ever wanted. You're the only one for me."

He wasn't perfect by any means. She wasn't blind. But he was perfect for her.

Maybe she was going too hard with her reassurances, but as someone who grew up insecure about herself and so desperately wanting the attention and affections of a particular someone, she knew what it was like and what he needed to hear. "I love you so much," she repeated, as that was the most important part of all. "You're my cranky old man, and that's for life now," she teased gently.

Grinning softly, Bucky leaned down to press a kiss to Steph's lips. "I love you, too. More than anything." Loving her had been the one constant that had lasted since before his life went to shit. "It was already for life, now we can just make it legal at some point." After they got her whole... legal status or whatever it was straightened out.

"Home sounds great. After we get that picture you wanted." After kissing her again, Bucky smiled and pulled out his phone. He got a quick picture of the two of them smiling with the ocean behind them before putting it away and picking up all those shopping bags again. Then, instead of taking Steph's hand, he wrapped his good arm around her shoulders to hold her close as they walked. "I'm glad I wanted to come out here to propose, though."

Steph was beaming in the photo and showing off her new ring, and as they walked, she had a skip in her step. "I'm glad you proposed." She couldn't stop smiling. "You know I've wanted to marry you in forever."

They were probably not getting married until after his trial, but she didn't mind waiting. The certainty that he wanted her as his wife was enough for her. They were already living together and acting like a married couple anyway.

Their cab ride back to their apartment was still quiet, but in a different way. She was snuggled into him the whole time and grinning like an idiot, and every so often glancing down at her ring. It was really so pretty. She couldn't wait to strip to her underwear and show him how well it went with them too.

The warm smile stayed on Bucky's face as they rode back to the apartment. He continued to hold her close and watched her far more than he paid attention to the world outside of their little back seat. "Hey, ever since I found out I wasn't the only one with feelings it was only a matter of time," he told her, voice quiet enough for her to hear but, hopefully, not the driver. "I thought about waiting until after we got your status fixed, or after the trial, but then I remembered what happened last time I waited until after something."

After all, Bucky had decided to wait until after he got home from the war to tell his best friend exactly how he felt about her, and look how well that had gone. He'd waited until after the war, after several decades, and after another war, to the point where she'd been so convinced he didn't have feelings for her that she'd left him behind.

But that was alright, because her leaving brought this version to him and, god, he loved her more than anything.

He was still smiling when they pulled up at their building, and Bucky helped her out of the car before carrying their bags up to their apartment, staying pretty much glued to each other's side for the short walk.

"I think we all learned a thing or two about waiting from that," Steph agreed, her tone wistful. She had no idea how time travel worked, but her best friend had been wearing a wedding band when he showed up, so he had to have also said to hell with waiting and made his move. And Cap would've been an even bigger idiot if she hadn't agreed, unless she was still harboring feelings for her best friend, which didn't seem to be the case. Maybe it had been years, if she'd managed to save Bucky from the train. Steph made a mental note to pry her bestie for details the next time they hung out.

Returning to their apartment with a ring on her finger felt different. She'd already been sure she was staying in this time, with this Bucky, but the ring, on top of her legally existing in this world, seemed to physically anchor her. Nothing could make her leave now, and anyone or anything that might try would not live to regret it.

She didn't bother with their haul once they got inside. While he set their bags down on the coffee table, she took off her shoes and coat, then moved to the record player and put on Fred Astaire. "You owe me a dance," she teased, pulling her scarf off as she approached him. She tried throwing it over his head and around his neck, but she wasn't tall enough to reach and the scarf just bounced off his chest. That made her laugh. "Dammit, I was tryin' to be sexy!"

Bucky had barely set the bags down and taken off his own jacket before he was accosted with a scarf. Laughing, he took the scarf and dropped it onto the coffee table with all their bags. "You're always sexy, sweetheart," he told her with a smile, but stepped to the side to drop down onto the couch. "I'll dance with you, though, just lemme get my boots off first."

He wasn't exactly the same sort of light on his feet that he was back when he was young, and the last thing he wanted was to step on her foot or anything like that. He could be considered quick footed when he was fighting, but he mostly still stomped around when he did that.

Once his boots were off and set aside, Bucky stood and crossed the room to his fiancée again, slipping his arms around her. "You sure you wanna marry an old man like me?" he asked as he held her close and they swayed to the soft music. But he was still smiling as he looked down at her.

Steph rested her hands on Bucky's chest as they slowly swayed to the music, still occasionally glancing at the ring on her finger. "You're only old on paper," she reminded with a laugh. "You fuck like a teenager." They had been fucking like teenagers, practically been unable to keep their hands off each other since the night she arrived.

She sobered after a while, though she still had a soft smile on her face and gazed up at him like he was everything. There was a question behind those eyes, however, and when he gently pried her about it, she hesitated, but eventually acquiesced.

"Will you tell me everything now?" she asked. "Not now now, but, you know. Now that we got here." And with the trial approaching. Knowing probably wouldn't help or change anything, but now more than ever she wanted to protect him, so she was going to have to take her chances.

Edited (i should reread before posting, not after XD) 2026-03-16 16:19 (UTC)

Sighing, Bucky nodded. He knew he had to tell her all of it eventually so she would hear it from him and not however people would try to twist it in the trial, but he'd been putting it off. Deep down there was a part of him that worried that everything he'd done--everything he'd been forced to do--would scare her off. Because it was a lot, and all of it was horrible. Plus, he had no way of knowing what, exactly, would be brought up in the trial.

"Yeah, I'll tell you everything," he started as he leaned down, then pressed a kiss to her head. "And we can talk about it now, if you want. Go ahead and get it over with." Bucky would say he didn't mind, but he did. And it didn't matter when they talked about it, he was always going to mind.

But Steph had already suffered through his nightmares, and the occasional times where he just had to go... be in a silent room for a little while. His mistrust of new people, his caution about doing something as small as answering the door when they knew they had a delivery coming, all of it. And none of that was on her; it was all his issues.

Bucky chewed his lip as he moved to the couch, gently pulling her with him as he sat down, then tugged her down to curl against his side. "I just didn't want you to look at me different." Another deep breath. "Where do you want me to start?"

"I love you so much, and I'm gonna marry you. That's not gonna change," Steph promised, cupping Bucky's cheek and leaning in to kiss him softly. Then she climbed into his lap and settled there, curling into him.

"Tell me everything, from the beginning? In my world you just shipped out. That was as far as I got." Sure, she could just ask what it was exactly they were putting him on trial for, or why the red book spooked him so much, but context was important. She had already learned things from scattered conversations with him and from assorted third-party sources, but she wanted his truth, and hopefully it would be easier for him to start from the top.

She didn't rush him into speaking. She didn't even look at him, in case that made him self-conscious. She just snuggled into him, head on his shoulder and arms around him.

Bucky wrapped his arms around her, holding her close but glad she wasn't looking at him yet anyway. Then he figured out a starting point.

"The first few months were... Well they weren't fine, it was a big goddamn war, but they were normal, at least. I'd write to you every day that I could--which was most of them--but I'd usually end up having to shove multiple letters in one envelope. We could only send out mail so often," he figured he'd start with something easier, at least. Something she might like to hear. "I'd make sure to date every letter so you would know what order to read them in."

At least it all started almost nicely. "Then in October, my unit got captured. This... evil fucker called Zola started experimenting on me pretty much immediately. Injecting me with stuff, I didn't know what any of it was. After a couple weeks, Steph showed up and pulled me right off the table they would put me on. She was huge and had no backup, just ran off on her own, and managed to save me and the rest of my squad." The ones who were still alive in the first place, at least. But that was still a lot of people.

Steph knew of the experiments, but she hadn't been able to keep the order of events straight. At last she had a timeline. By now, if she hadn't been pulled out of her world, he'd already have been captured. She shuddered at the thought — and the realization that, while Cap had succeeded in rescuing him and his unit, she had been too late.

"Then the train?"

It was one failure after another, wasn't it? Steph could imagine just how Cap took that. Because, in spite of everything, they were the same person. Steph only had the luck of knowing Bucky had felt the same for her; otherwise she would've made some real stupid decisions, too.

Bucky nodded sadly at that. "Yeah. Well, first I did a year and some change with a unit called the Howling Commandos. Steph was there, too. And sometimes Howard and Peggy. Then there was me, but I didn't tell any of them what'd already been done to me since I didn't know what the government would do. That I was healing and thinking too fast. Then the train. We were trying to get Zola, but that's when I fell and lost my arm."

Letting out weak chuckle, Bucky looked down at her, then grabbed the throw off the back of the couch to pull around him, the memories giving him a chill. "I'm not a big fan of heights any more, if you can believe it."

It was good he had Steph in his arms though, because her presence was a comfort for him, and he knew once he was on the stand recounting the worst parts of his past he wouldn't have that comfort.

He went on to explain how the US Government deemed him killed in action but how HYDRA found him and started their real work on him. He was vague about the details, not wanting to go into all the ways they tortured him, or all the things they prodded at him with and ways they kept experimenting on him, but he did mention that it happened, and how they even sunk so low as to taunt him with the headlines announcing his best friend's death, especially since they knew he carried her picture in his pocketwatch. They could put two and two together.

Bucky had tried to resist for so long, but eventually he still broke down.

"Why didn't you tell her?" Steph couldn't help wondering. "She got strong and fast too, right?" Which made her think Cap would have understood, even if she wouldn't have known what to do about it. It couldn't have been easy dealing with those changes alone. He could have been terrified, even though Steph couldn't imagine Bucky being scared of anything.

Did Cap fail him in that, too? Was Steph going to have to prepare for life dealing them with the worst hand? She should seriously look into those plans should the trial go south.

It wasn't easy hearing what happened after he fell. She reached for his hand to hold in her tiny one, while the other gently rubbed his back; it was as much for her as it was for him. Though that was all in the past, she was furious. She wanted to tear HYDRA apart, wanted to make every one who hurt him pay. And she wanted to keep him in her arms so that no one could ever touch him again, despite the knowledge that she was even more powerless than her counterpart.

"We can... we can stop," she said. "I'm sorry I made you do this." She was hurting him, too.

Shaking his head, Bucky squeezed the tiny hand he held in his own, then pulled it up to press a kiss to it. "She had enough going on," he said, almost like confessing to why he kept a secret. "Depending on who you asked, she was either Lady Liberty or Captain America. There was mission after mission, strategy meetings, plus all the people who just... wanted a piece of her. She'd become the face of everything and she was stressed as hell. I... didn't want to add to it, I guess." Even though logically he knew that she'd never think of him that way, Bucky didn't want to become one of the people who just needed things from her instead of one of the people who was there for her.

So, instead, he kept his mouth shut and his arms open to hold her and listen whenever it all became too much.

"You didn't make me do anything, sweetheart, it's alright," he added. "You deserve to know who you agreed to marry. And I should tell you so other people can't twist up my words. I'll broad strokes the next few decades, alright?"

"I would've wanted to know," Steph said quietly. She hugged Bucky a little tighter with that arm she had around his back. "You'll tell me if anything like that happens again, right? I... I might not be capable of much... but I'm here for you..."

Not capable of much, said the woman who would've become Captain America had the opportunity not been taken away from her. But while she might doubt her abilities, she had no doubt about her resolve. She would move heaven and earth for him, defy the universe for him — as her counterpart had, over and over, even if he was mad at her for it.

She nodded and let him continue. If it were up to her, she would want every detail, if only to list every name and tally every transgression. But she did not want him to relive his pain and suffering any more than he had to, so she didn't push it. She simply held him and listened.

"You're capable of a hell of a lot more than you realize, sweetheart," Bucky said truthfully as he held her close. "Especially when it comes to me, but I'll tell you. I promise."

He continued then, wanting to make sure he was clear about just how messed up they made his mind, how he couldn't remember anything at all most of the time, just did whatever they told him to. And how that awful book was part of that. "I had trigger words," he said. "If certain things were said in a certain order I'd stop whatever I was doing and just... comply. They don't work any more, thank god. That's one of the main reasons I spent time healing in Wakanda."

And then Bucky told her about how they would put him in cryo for months or years at a time, then take him out for missions, wipe his brain, give him his orders, then send him out for an assassination. Sometimes it was politicians, sometimes it was people they found annoying. Sometimes he was the Soldier they'd pick from their mini-army just because it amused them to have Bucky Barnes do it, like when they sent him after Howard.

Sometimes it wouldn't even be for an assassination. Those were almost preferable to the times HYDRA would just loan him out for allies to do whatever they wanted with. Bucky absolutely didn't go into details there, but the meaning was clear.

He also pointed out that his handlers were usually these tall blonde haired, blue eyed women, because it didn't take them long to realize that he resisted a bit less when they resembled his Captain America. At least they didn't realize that a tiny blonde haired, blue eyed woman would have had the same effect, so it limited the agents they could pull from.

For a moment Steph naively believed Bucky's story couldn't get much worse. And then it did. So much that she had tears silently streaming down her face, and he was far from done. What could she even say to that? What could she do? If HYDRA hadn't captured him, if he hadn't fallen off that train—

She swallowed, realizing that was exactly the path Cap had spiraled down on. Yet even that hadn't been enough. Maybe Steph's best friend was now safe from most of the horrors, but it didn't undo any of the awful, awful things that happened to the man she was going to marry.

So she didn't say anything, just continued to hold him and listen, while silently making some promises to herself. He would always have a choice. He would never have to do anything he didn't want, especially in bed.

And he would always have her. No matter the outcome of the trial, no matter what else came their way. He would be safe with her. He would be loved with her. And, hopefully, he would be happy with her.

Pulling the blanket around the two of them tighter, Bucky kissed Steph's hair again. At least he was almost done, then she would know all of it, and she would be able to run if it was too much for her. He wouldn't blame her if she did, honestly.

He might have been a hell of a lot better than he was when he escaped, but he was still a very damaged man.

"They screwed up with the last mission, though," he began, then let out a single weak, sad laugh. "After Captain America came back, they thought it'd be funny if I was the one they pulled out of cryo to send after her. But seeing her started... triggering memories. Sort of. I didn't even know my own name, but I knew I knew her somehow, but didn't know how, and they didn't like that. I still almost killed her, though, then we fell in this river, and I pulled her out instead before taking off. That's how I finally got away from them.

"For a couple years I went on the run, stayed mostly in abandoned buildings or HYDRA safe houses before burning them down, lived off the money I stole from those safe houses. I even managed to take out a couple of HYDRA bases single handed, but I kept trying to find out more about this random woman, and imagine my surprise when every time I'd find something about her, there I was, too. Then she caught up to me in Romania."

Steph let out a mirroring weak laugh as she attempted to joke, "You probably saw her face and thought, 'Hey, I know that dumbass'." Self-deprecating humor had been her specialty long before Bucky began to wield it too, and she didn't mind making a fool of herself if it got him to smile. It was a desperate attempt at levity, but she had to try.

Especially after all those awful stories and the admission that he'd almost killed her. She'd always thought being sick was a terrible way to die; one didn't only suffer in pain and with the knowledge of what and who they were leaving behind, but their loved ones would have to watch them wither and fade away, too. But it turned out there was a scenario far, far worse.

"Was that after they accused you of bombing some peace conference?" She had been reading and trying to piece things together after she learned he was going to be put on trial. The bombing was in a lot of news sites and had turned up easily when she looked up his name on the Google.

"Yeah, well, turns out when you've been in love with someone since puberty, it gets hard to completely erase them from your mind, even with mind control," Bucky told her before pressing another kiss to her head. There was no way HYDRA had expected that, not after so many decades of conditioning.

"It was immediately after. I'd just seen a paper with my face plastered on it when she tracked me down, then some kind of angents and T'Challa were right on her heels. His dad was the king of Wakanda that had been killed in the bombing. At least we were able to convince him it was a frame job." As fast as Bucky was, Black Panther had been faster. And he was scary dammit.

At least, he was scary until you actually got to see the guy regularly.

After that, Bucky went into how he and Steph had gone on the run for a very short time, they got taken in and that asshole used the book on him, the big fight at the airport, ('Tony brought a goddamn kid to the fight. He was a strong kid, but he was still a damn kid.'), how he and Steph had found their way to the Winter Soldier facility only to find the rest already dead, and how Tony found them there.

Then he mentioned how he went to Wakanda and volunteered to be put back in Cryo until they could figure out how to fix him. Fix both his mind and also replacing the arm Tony had blown off.

Edited (i also need to reread BEFORE hitting post) 2026-03-17 17:16 (UTC)

It was a lot. Steph realized it had to be more difficult for Bucky, recounting all this, but she was having trouble, too. None of it changed what she thought of and felt for him, no. But she was angry, and there wasn't anything she could do about it but hold it in until she could safely let it out. Right now, he needed her to be a safe space, and she was determined to be that.

"But they found a way, yeah? In Wakanda?" She remembered the broad strokes from there — recovering, the goat he named Rogers, the alien invasion, and dying. Or at least disappearing for years until Cap and the surviving Avengers brought half the universe back through a combination of magic and time travel. Steph didn't really get it, it was still something she'd yet to wrap her mind around, but she knew it was real. She was here, decades into the future, as a consequence of all that.

She squeezed his hand. "Why did you think knowing this would change my mind about you? About us?" Maybe it was a difficult question, especially because they had never really been used to talking about feelings and shit, but since that night they had gotten together she'd told herself they had to get better at communicating. So she was trying.

"They found a way, yeah. Those words don't work on me any more, but I still hate the sight of that book. The Wakandans even built me this new arm to replace the one Tony blew off me, so I don't even have to carry that piece of HYDRA hardware around any more. It's lighter than the old one in more ways than one." Bucky looked down at her, only to let go of her hand and bring it up to gently wipe the tears off her cheeks, unaware that he had some of his own. "I caused a lot of the scars around it, you know. Trying to get it off when HYDRA first put it on me."

Not all of them, of course. Some were from the surgery. But many of them were caused by a desperate man trying to get rid of something that didn't belong there.

Her last couple of questions made him pause, though. Bucky chewed on his lip for a moment before answering. "I spent a lot of time questioning and second-guessing myself after I got away from them. I still do sometimes, but not as much as I did before. But it sort of... bleeds into other things, too." He sighed. "Plus, I just have a lot of guilt. Logically, I know none of that was my fault, but I can still remember every face, every name, and that's what most of my nightmares are about."

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