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

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."

Steph hesitated, but after a moment she slowly brought a hand up to Bucky's face to wipe off his tears. She didn't call attention to it though; in their time, boys grew up learning they shouldn't show emotion, shouldn't cry. While she couldn't ignore his tears, she could spare his pride.

"I don't really know what to say that wouldn't make you feel worse," she admitted. "That was... that was fucked up." Sorry felt like an empty platitude, and he already said he knew, logically, that it wasn't his fault. It wasn't her absolution that he needed.

Then she remembered something he said before, about how Cap hadn't asked him if he wanted to be saved or whatever it was she thought she was accomplishing. So Steph asked. "What do you want me to say? What do you need me to do?" For him, she would do anything.

Bucky didn't say anything about his tears, either. He just took the hand she used to wipe them away and held it up so he could press a soft kiss to the inside of her wrist, right over her pulse point.

"I don't need you to say or do anything you don't want to, sweetheart," he started with another sigh. "I just don't want to lose you."

He'd already told her before that if she ever wanted to go, she could. Bucky would never force her to stay where she didn't want to. But at the same time, he didn't know what he would do if she did decide to leave one day. Not to her, not to others, but he didn't know what he would do with--or to--himself.

But he knew he wouldn't be telling her that part.

"Hey." Steph shifted to straddle Bucky's lap, not to distract him or start anything, but so he had no choice but to face her and look at her in the eyes. She cupped his face gently. "To the end of the line, remember? Or 'till death do us part, if you'd rather. You are my husband." She didn't even seem to realize she'd already claimed it, instead of stating it as a future occurrence. "And I ain't going anywhere you aren't. Just... don't push me away, please?"

She would give him time and space if he ever needed any, or if there were things he felt he had to take care of on his own, things about his past and the nightmares that continued to haunt him. She was only asking that he not shut her out, that he talk to her — even if it was to tell her that he couldn't sleep beside her that night and he wanted to be alone for a while.

Bucky couldn't help a slight smile at that. It was small, and it was still sad, but it was there. Reaching up, he wrapped both his hands around Steph's tiny wrists just as gently as she was holding his face. "I'm your husband already, huh?" he asked, picking at her just the tiniest bit. He wouldn't mind already being her husband, after all. If he had, he wouldn't have asked her to marry him.

"I won't push you away, sweetheart. Not intentionally," he promised before leaning in to give her a soft kiss. If she wasn't running away, he wouldn't either. Not from this. "And if it ever seems like I am just, let me know, alright? You already know sometimes I just need quiet for a little while, but I always come back around to you, don't I?"

Steph blushed at Bucky's teasing, and almost immediately went into the defensive, as she tended to do when he pushed her buttons. But something in his face gave her pause. Her expression softening into a smile, she said, "All that's missing are just our signatures on some papers, right? The important part is..." She brushed a thumb over his lower lip. "I, Stephanie Grace Rogers, take you, James Buchanan Barnes, as my husband."

So what if she was a sap? Let him make fun of her; it would be worth it, to ease even a little of that pain and sorrow he carried with him all the time.

When they broke off the kiss, she rested her forehead against his. "Like when you would move to sleep on the floor sometime during the night?" Yeah, she'd noticed. She wasn't a light sleeper, not now when she was finally getting some relief from most of the symptoms that had been plaguing her, but there were times she woke up ahead of him and found herself alone on their bed.

Somehow, even after everything Bucky had told her about what he'd been through and what he'd done, Steph still wanted to marry him. That fact in itself almost felt like a miracle or a blessing and, god, he hoped he never did anything to ruin that.

Instead of making fun of her, he just said a simple, "I take you, too, Stephanie Grace Rogers," before giving her another sweet kiss. It might not have been all the words required, but it was enough to get Bucky's point across.

Letting go of her wrists, Bucky wrapped his arms around her waist again, holding her as he let his eyes close. "The floor thing, that's a mix of the nightmares and going eighty years without regularly sleeping in an actual bed." Between the war, the cryo, and the sleeping in whatever buildings he could find, beds had been few and far between for him. Sure, there had been a few here and there since his escape, but none as regular as he'd had since he came to stay with his best friend after the blip.

Actually, none as regular as since he and Steph became an item. Up until then, Bucky usually slept on the floor of the guest room.

"Trust me, if it wasn't for that, I'd stay in bed beside you all the time. It's just, I don't know. Really soft when you're used to sleeping on the ground."

"I can stay with you on the floor, if you want?" Steph offered, leaning into him and closing her eyes as well. It wasn't like she wasn't used to a difficult life. Nor was it a real hardship to be sleeping on the floor. And even if it were, she would happily make the sacrifice. Anything for Bucky, because she loved him, even after learning about what he'd been through and what he'd done.

After a while of just holding each other, she asked, "What about when you have nightmares? Should I leave you alone, or will you tell me what you need?" Maybe she was overthinking things, especially as he'd been fine with most of what they'd gotten up to, even the intimate stuff. But all that information made her start to rethink her actions. Had she been too inconsiderate? Too careless? Had he just been putting up with her so she wouldn't leave him?

Tightening his arms around her slightly, Bucky shifted, easily moving the two of them so they were lying down on the couch together, still wrapped in the soft blanket. "Nah, it's fine. I want you to be comfortable," he started as he began to rub small circles on her back with his good hand. "Besides, I don't want you getting sick or anything. I can't get sick." He was pretty sure he couldn't, at least. He hadn't had so much as a cold since 1943.

"I'll tell you if I need something, I promise," he told her simply. There was a large part of him that worried about his nightmares. Specifically, he worried that in his tossing and turning, or in how he sometimes jerked when he woke up, he'd accidentally lash out at Steph. But he already tried to sleep so she was on his right, just in case. It would be awful if he accidentally smacked her in his sleep, it would be even worse if it were with a vibranium arm. "So far you've done everything right by me."

Steph was pretty sure there was a way to get comfortable sleeping on the floor, but she would have to ask the Google for that, so she made a mental note to do it later. For now, she didn't insist on it, especially after Bucky mentioned that he didn't want her getting sick. She appreciated that he wanted to take care of her, she really did. But she wanted to take care of him, too.

"Okay," she said, tilting her head up to kiss his cheek. She didn't think so — that she did everything right — but she wasn't going to argue with him about it, just overthink things later once it was quiet and she could get lost in her own head.

"Do you wanna just rest now?" She'd planned to lure him to bed and celebrate their engagement, but that was before they opened the can of worms that was his past, and now she wasn't sure what he needed. She'd cook for him later, at least. Some of his old favorites, and maybe soup to ward off the chill in the air that seemed to have seeped into their apartment.

"Just for a little while," Bucky told her simply. They'd just had an incredibly intense conversation, after all, and he knew he kinda (definitely) ruined the good mood that came from his proposal. But Steph had wanted to know and, even more than that, she deserved to know about the man she agreed to marry. "I just like holding you."

Holding her, laughing with her, arguing with her, Bucky loved all of it, just like he always had.

"I love you, Steph. I'm always gonna pick you." He just felt like reminding her of that, since that's what she was thanking him for earlier. The statement was just as true now that she knew his whole past as it was when he asked the question earlier. And it had been just as true before he shipped out in 43, just like it was true when they were just hitting puberty. He always picked Steph, even if he got talked into dates that he knew from the start would go nowhere.

"Good. Because you ain't getting rid of me now," Steph said. Now more than ever she was determined to stay by Bucky's side, and maybe even steer him away from all this supersoldier shit. No more wars, no more fighting, just them, somewhere far away and quiet.

In a weird way, she was glad for what Cap had decided to do. Not because it had led to Steph and this Bucky getting together, but because one of them had to avenge him and set things right. Steph couldn't do that, not even with all her righteous anger. But she could stay and fight for peace — his peace — and, once she came to terms with her rage, rest knowing that one of them had at least tried. For in which world, in which timeline, did Stephanie Rogers not love Bucky Barnes? Steph was willing to bet there was none.

She kissed his cheek. "I love you, too, Buck. I always have, and I always will." She would hold him for as long as he wanted, for as long as he needed, through his nightmares and whatever else that might come their way. For now, that was for a little while longer, and she lay there, nestled in his arms, Fred Astaire crooning softly in the background.

They stayed just like that for a long time, even after the record ended and they lay there in silence. Bucky even came close to falling asleep, which was a surprise to him considering everything he'd just explained.

But maybe it shouldn't have been a surprise, considering what a comfort Steph's general presence was to him.

Eventually, he decided to break the silence. "What do you want to do for dinner tonight?" he asked, voice soft and hand rubbing circles on her back again. Sure, they'd gone to eat earlier, but since then they'd gone all the way out to the Boardwalk for a while before coming home, and Bucky hadn't paid any attention to how long it took him to tell her his story and just curl up with her. "I'm not hungry yet, but we're probably gonna need to eat again eventually."

Edited (Me hitting "post" and then noticing things while I wait for it to go through) 2026-03-19 17:05 (UTC)

Steph ended up actually dozing off for a while, long enough to wake up with a start when Bucky speaks up again. She settles back into him easily though, comforted by the feel of his body next to hers and his hand rubbing circles on her back.

"I was thinking we could order something a little fancy. You know, to celebrate," she answered, a hint of sleep still in her voice. "But only if you wanna. I can make soup if you'd prefer that instead." Soup was comforting, and they both needed comfort after everything he'd told her. Celebrating could wait, if he didn't have the energy for it.

Bucky couldn't help chuckling softly at the way Steph started. "Sorry, didn't realize you fell asleep," he said, tilting his head so he could press a kiss to hers.

After thinking about it for a moment, Bucky stated, "I don't want you to have to cook anything tonight, sweetheart. What kind of fancy were you thinking? Steak and wine or do I need to try to look up some kinda French restaurants or something?" He'd never had French food, and he didn't speak French, but it's one of those things that people always said was fancy. "Unless you had something else in mind."

He loved it when Steph cooked, but they'd had a full day. Not just the shopping, which was admittedly a lot for Bucky, but also Bucky finally telling her all about the time between when she came from and the present. And, most importantly, they were engaged now, dammit. As soon as they got her legal status worked out, he was going to officially make her his wife.

"Steak and wine, yeah. We got some candles for the atmosphere." Steph wasn't particularly picky, perhaps just self-conscious about the price of things, but she'd long learned and gotten used to the fact that Bucky preferred to let her decide, so she made herself do so. She knew he wanted her happy and that he would gladly defer to her wishes, though now she wondered if that had anything to do with how he'd been stripped of his free will over the last how many decades. "If you're okay with that? If not, we could always do Christmas dinner." Which was a safe choice. They'd had it time and again since she liked it so much.

"We can watch a movie after." That was how she pictured their dates back then, that was if he ever asked her out anyway; dinner, then either the cinema or the dancehall. Now they were doing everything at home, but she actually preferred that, even without taking his aversion to crowds into consideration.

"Steak sounds good to me. I like steak," he responded simply. It was one of those meals that was considered really fancy when they grew up, too. And, while it was much easier to get in the modern day, Bucky still didn't think to get it out of nothing more than habit.

Maybe he should suggest steak for dinner sometimes.

"Steak followed by a movie sounds pretty perfect to me, actually." It might not sound like the fanciest or most celebratory of evenings to a lot of people, but it was definitely up Bucky's alley. Besides, if they were at home instead of out in public, it would make it easier for Bucky to just toss Steph over his shoulder and carry her off to bed if they were in the mood afterwards.

Or they could just stay on the couch. It was their apartment; there were zero rules about where they had to be when they had sex.

"Good." Steph was worried that their conversation had put Bucky in a morose mood, though she would understand if it did. It would've just been awful timing, that's all, considering they hadn't even gotten to celebrate their engagement yet. Steak, wine and a movie though? Perfect.

They snuggled on the couch until it was time to prepare for dinner. While Bucky took care of their order, Steph busied herself in the kitchen and dining room. She set the table and decorated it with candles. She even sacrificed some of the flowers she had in a vase on the windowsill of the kitchen to scatter some petals over the tablecloth. Who said they couldn't have nice things in the comfort of their home?

She returned to the living room to get the record player going again, this time popping in Marvin Gaye's Trouble Man. She'd found it among Cap's collection and liked it. "Just the food now," she said when she straightened up, grinning at her fiancé.

"It's going to be a little while before the food gets here," Bucky said as he set his phone aside, then stood and crossed the room to Steph. Leaning down slightly, he wrapped his arms around her to hold her close as he let his chin rest on the top of her head.

His mood might not have been what it was when they got home, but Bucky was definitely feeling better than he had before Steph napped on his chest, and he had some quiet time. But it was good that he finally had his past in the open. He could stop worrying that the things he'd done--the things he'd been forced to do, he reminded himself for the millionth time--would be too much for her and she'd run off like his best friend had. Maybe not for the same reason, but that worry had been in the back of his head the whole time she'd been with him, nonetheless.

But they'd talked it out and then they'd rested for a while, now it was time to move past it and celebrate the fact that she agreed to marry him for some insane reason.

Reaching down, Bucky snagged her left hand to bring it up and press a kiss to her fingers again, right at her new ring. "I've always wanted you to be Mrs. Barnes. You know that, right?"

Steph watched Bucky kiss her hand, then she looked up at him with a warm smile. "I know now." Yeah, he'd told her before that he'd wanted to marry her and planned on asking her when he got home from the war, but she couldn't really make herself believe it. Force of habit, for one. And there was the fact that, up until recently, she'd been worried that he would still choose her counterpart if she ever came back.

It was amazing how a little ring could add that much stability and certainty. It certainly helped heal the old wounds of insecurity in her heart. Trust wasn't the issue, after all she trusted him with her life; but she had been on the receiving end of him supposedly wanting her but dating all those other women anyway. A tangible reassurance in the shape of a ring worked wonders for that.

"I've always wanted to be Mrs. Barnes," she affirmed, because she felt that it had to be said. "I just... you remember how I struggled with my health back then. And how I... can't really get pregnant." She swallowed down the lump in her throat at the reminder. "It wouldn't have been fair to saddle you with me. For me to just die. Or get really sick and you'll end up having to take care of me the whole time. I didn't have much to bring into a marriage, and you deserve so much better."

She felt less guilty these days about being a burden, at least.

She reached up to cup his cheeks with both hands. "I still don't have much now. Just my love. I... I'm glad you think it's enough."

"Hey," Bucky started before picking Steph up and turning to set her feet on the coffee table so they could stand more eye-to-eye, then brought his good hand up to gently brush her hair out of her face. "Your love's all I've ever wanted, Steph. It's more than enough."

Standing close, he locked his blue eyes on hers. "First off, I don't need kids. Didn't need them when we were young, and now I'd be a shit dad with everything I've got going on up here," he tapped the side of his head with a metal finger. "I might not have physical ailments, but I'm sure I've got plenty of mental stuff going on that I didn't used to. There's, uh, this thing they told me about back in Wakanda called PTSD. During the war it was called Shell Shock and they just expected people to shake it off and get over it. Turns out it doesn't work that way. Anyway, I'd be no good raising a kid."

Bucky sighed and dropped his hand from her hair to take hers and lace their fingers together. "Second, I've always known there was a chance I'd end up having to take care of you, or lose you, but that was a chance I was prepared to take." But medicine was so much better now than it had been when they grew up, and Bucky was confident that they'd have a good, long life together.

Depending on one other thing, at least. "Besides, we don't know how the trial's gonna shake out for me anyway." Bucky could be locked away forever, or worse. His hands ended a hell of a lot of lives, after all.

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

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