Closed RP with [Punched-Hitler]

[make_it_hurt]

He woke up slowly. It was an unusual feeling, to wake to nothing more than his body's own sleep cycle, instead of being woken up by harsh hands and pain. He honestly hadn't been expecting to wake up, sure that he was dead, sure that the bullet they had put in his chest should have killed him.

Instead, Bucky Barnes woke up in a hospital bed, oxygen line hooked over his ears, the steady beeping and whirring of machinery all around him. Everything hurt - his broken ankle, the bruises on his legs from beatings, the lash marks over his back. It is nearly torture to breathe, his chest wrapped tightly in bandages. This wasn't the dark, dank cellar he had spent (as close as he could figure ) six or seven months in. He looked around, head tilting from side to side listlessly, looking for family or a nurse or something.

His attention was caught by his left arm - or, rather, what was left of it, which wasn't much.

Days into his capture they'd started cutting off his fingers, one at a time, and sending him to his mother - to the President - in an attempt to get her to give in to their demands.

Then they'd started working their way up his arm, more as punishment than anything, before infection had set in and they had kept cutting back and back and back in an attempt to keep their bargaining chip from dying.

The stump of his left arm was wrapped in neat cotton bandages and Bucky swallowed hard, lifting his other hand to his lips, feeling them quiver against his fingers.

He finally asked, voice trembling, "Mom?"

She had to be here. She had been there for him his entire life growing up, there every time he got sick, even when she was on the election trail. If she couldn't get to him, they would talk over the internet for as long as it took until he fell asleep.

Bucky looked around, digging his ragged nails into his lower lip. "Mom?" He shifted, trying to sit up, and was instantly caught by the mess of wires and tubing around him. He laid back, blinking back tears.

She came almost at a run, heels clacking, the door swinging shut behind her. "Bucky!" She nearly collapsed onto Bucky's bed, grabbing his hand in both of her own. "You're awake, thank god." She reached forward and ran her fingers through his hair and he was suddenly aware that it was long enough to touch his chin.

He smiled up at her, feeling the knot in his chest ease. Bucky sagged back against his pillows and sighed slightly, letting her rub her thumb over the back of his hand. "I missed you, Mom."

"I missed you, too. Here, are you comfortable? Do you need another pillow?" She let go of his hand and started to fuss with his blankets and pillows, adjusting them around him nervously.

"I'm fine. Tired, but fine." He closed his eyes for a long moment then asked, opening them again, "I'm really here, right?"

She nodded. "You're really here, Bucky." She folded her hand over his. "Get some rest, I'll be right here, okay?" She smiled and watched Bucky drift off again, body falling limp. But it wasn't the same sort of boneless as before, the unconsciousness after being brought in, after all the surgeries. It was the unconsciousness of somebody asleep of their own volition.

She looked up once she was sure Bucky was asleep and stood back up, placing his hand on his stomach. President Barnes crossed back over to the door and pulled it open. "I'm sorry, Captain. Maybe you should come in and we can continue our discussion?" She stepped back.

Bucky drifted awake for just a moment, long enough to see his mother across the room talking to somebody that looked vaguely familiar. Before Bucky could place the face, he was asleep again.

Comments

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky smiled. "Alright." Then he let out a short laugh when Steve poked at him. "When we get back to my room, then."

Dr. Rush ran his fingers over the sole of Bucky's foot and he twitched away, toes curling. "You look to be good to go, at least physically. What are you going to do to take care of your mental healthy, Bucky? You should see a psychiatrist, you know."

Bucky sighed. "I don't want to talk about what happened to me. I don't want to relive it even more than I already do." He sat up, curling his arm around his midsection.

"Bucky..." Dr. Rush looked concerned. Then he gave up. "Nobody can force you to get treatment, Bucky, Not me, not your mother. I just hope you'll consider it. At the very least you can get on some meds." He patted Bucky's knee then pulled off his gloves. "Better go look through your mail. You need anything, you let me know, alright?"

Bucky nodded and got this feet. He winced as his thigh pulsed with pain, but there wasn't enough pain to make him not want to walk.

[punched_hitler]

Steve nodded, smiling a little more - although it did flicker a little when the doctor said how much he'd like Bucky to get help that wasn't just for his physical injuries. Steve wasn't as familiar with mental health care as someone born in this century, but he still knew they had come a long way from calling things "shellshock" and locking people up for having waking nightmares. If they could help Bucky... he wished Bucky would agree to it, even if he understood why he didn't want to ever relive that.

But if he just ignored it... was that really a better option?

Either way, Bucky was obviously ready to go. Steve moved closer, offering something steady if Bucky needed help getting back to his room. He was pretty sure Bucky could walk there, and he wanted to give him the chance if he could. "Thanks, Doc," he said with a smile, waiting until Bucky was ready to go to get the door.

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky headed for the door, fingers catching in Penny's collar to keep her close as he headed for his bedroom again. Once there, he settled on his mattress and pulled on his sweatpants again.

"In my desk drawer, the bottom left drawer... There's all my mail." He'd seen it since coming home: the entire drawer was stuffed full of mail - letters and information from colleges, statements from his bank, everything that had ended up with his name on it had ended up in the drawer. And it was a lot of stuff.

[punched_hitler]

Steve followed, not only to give Bucky a little space, but to keep an eye out - he was still on the job, even if there hadn't been any incidents. He wanted to make sure there would be no incidents.

When they got back to Bucky's room and everything checked out, he closed the door, nodding. "Right." Of course, when he got to the drawer, he let out a little laugh as the thing barely opened. "It's stuffed," he said wryly, starting to pull out the envelopes, glancing up at Bucky with a little half-smile. "Want me to sort it, first? Then you can see what you've got to go through?"

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky shrugged, "If you want, or we can go through it together." He sighed and grabbed a blanket, tugging it around himself. It was a comforting weight around his shoulders. "Give me half, at least." He held out his hand.

[punched_hitler]

"Sure." Steve didn't mind lending a hand, he just didn't want to step on Bucky's toes - mail was supposed to be private, after all, even though he hoped Bucky knew he could trust Steve to keep quiet, if need be.

"Here," Steve said with a smile - okay, he didn't hand over quite half, more like a third, but Bucky would have to go through it with just the one arm, so he wanted to take it easy on him. Steve settled himself on the ground, leaning against the side of the bed (it just seemed the most natural) and started sorting: bank statements, official documents, information and letters from colleges, and anything that seemed personal. Everything got its own pile. "You're sure a popular guy," he teased gently; there was a lot of mail to go through, but Bucky had been gone a long time, too.

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky smiled. "Yeah, everybody wants a piece of this." He grinned for a moment, sorting his pile into the piles Steve had already made.

Once he was done, he scooped up the 'college' pile. He sorted it out into schools - almost a dozen, all very highly rated colleges.

He only took interest in the MIT pile though. "Throw the rest of it away. It'll have to be shredded, this is all I'm interested in." He started to tear into the envelopes, looking for the acceptance or rejection letter in the huge wad of papers.

[punched_hitler]

"I'll be they do," Steve chuckled - if Bucky was able to joke about it, then that was a good thing. Besides, he hadn't exactly lived under a rock, the past two years. He knew how attractive the people of America found Bucky. And he had no doubt that, with time and rest and his confidence back, Bucky would be charming people all over again. He was still charming, in a strange sort of way, even like this. Steve would like to see it come out more often. It might mean he was getting better.

He couldn't help but watch, curiously, almost as nervous as Bucky might be, as Bucky started tearing through that one pile. He'd never gone to college, but it had been in Bucky's plan, and Steve wanted it to still be in Bucky's plan. He started gathering up the other piles, trying to give Bucky some pretense of privacy, but he was still pretty interested in what would turn up.

[make_it_hurt]

"They have to have taken me, with all this stuff they sent me." He skipped back to the earliest dated envelope and opened that one. Then he grinned.

"I knew it!" Bucky passed the letter to Steve. "I'm in." He started opening the rest - a lot were just information on programs and housing options. "This one says that if I finish my math and science classes, I can start in the winter of next year!"

[punched_hitler]

Steve wasn't about to argue that - but he wanted Bucky to be the one to confirm or deny it.

But he couldn't help it - when Bucky confirmed the good news, Steve reached out and squeezed his arm. Carefully. "Bucky... that's great. I mean it. Really great. You should be pretty damn proud of yourself, buddy." Honestly, just at the moment, it was kind of rewarding to live vicariously through Bucky as he tore through the rest of the information. Hell, Steve hadn't even known him all that long... but he had known him a while. And he was proud. "I hear Boston is a nice place, too."

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky grinned, then flung his arms around Steve in a hug. "I'm so excited. I need to call the high school, find out what I need to do to get the credits. And I should tell my mom..." He clung to Steve. "There's something I wanna do, but you can't tell anybody, especially my mom." He pulled away, rooting through his sock drawer for something.

[punched_hitler]

Frankly, Steve hadn't actually seen Bucky excited about anything other than Penny since they'd met. And so he couldn't argue that this - this was an amazing turnaround, whether it lasted or not. And he looked just as relieved as he did proud - he even gave Bucky a careful (but genuine) one-armed hug, gently, making sure he felt congratulated rather than trapped.

Of course, he was curious the second Bucky pulled away, watching him root through that drawer. "Sure. What is it?" Bucky deserved his privacy, after all.

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky pulled back from his sock drawer and unrolled the socks. He emptied them and dumped out several joints from one and a lighter from the other. He looked at Steve nervously, then shrugged, trying to act casual. "Haven't... had one since I got back."

[punched_hitler]

Steve wasn't quite sure what he had been expecting - although, funny enough, he wasn't necessarily surprised. He'd never smoked - well, of course not, he'd had asthma, it might have killed him - and drugs didn't affect him now, tobacco or otherwise (and these looked to be otherwise).

So he managed to stop the slight frown - and just turn it into a slightly concerned look. "One condition, though," he said. "It won't interfere with anything you're taking, will it?" If Bucky was still on pain medication, he wanted to make sure nothing would interact. Growing up with a nurse for a mother, Steve knew that could be bad news.

Otherwise... well. Bucky was an adult. Steve would respect that. It was a celebration, after all. And he'd grown up in the 20s, 30s, and 40s. Everyone had smoked something.

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky shook his head, "No. I'm not taking painkillers anymore." He picked up a joint. "It's just weed." He looked at Steve, putting the end of the joint in his mouth then lit it, taking a small puff. Even almost a year old, it was still potent enough. Thank god for his younger, stupider self who spent serious money on high quality weed. "Old weed, but..." He shrugged and offered it to Steve. "Still good."

[punched_hitler]

Steve shook his head a little - not offended, he wanted to celebrate with Bucky, but, "It's not gonna do anything for me, pal. You'd just be wasting it." He couldn't get drunk or high; instead, he just moved to nudge Bucky's arm with his elbow. "You enjoy it."

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky laughed, "You see how many of these I have?" He nodded down at the pile of joints. "You might as well have one, Steve." He leaned back against his dresser. He was feeling more relaxed already, all his anxiety seeping away. "Why didn't I try this sooner? Who needs pills when there's weed?" He grinned at Steve then shifted, adjusting his shirt around himself. "Only problem with this is... munchies."

[punched_hitler]

Steve smiled a little, though he gave in and accepted the joint - although before he ever inhaled, he had to laugh, saying, "So it's a really good thing these don't affect me, or there wouldn't be any food left in the White House and your mom would get pretty suspicious."

Steve, after all, could eat a lot.

"I can't help you, though. We'll just take a field trip down to the kitchen when you're hungry."

Still, though, he glanced at Bucky. "I don't think one drug is really the answer to everything, no matter what it is. Sometimes pills are okay. Sometimes this is okay. You've gotta... I don't know. Find the right solution that works for you, I guess."

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky laughed. "She wouldn't notice, but the chefs might." He rested his head back and said, "I'm so relaxed right now, Steve. I used to feel like this a lot. It wasn't... about calming down, then. It was about getting away from everything. Away from all the expectations placed on me by my mom, the media... my friends..." He sighed and reached over to pet Penny.

"I'm gay as fuck, Steve. I can't even look at a naked woman. I want to... live authentically. I don't want to lie to myself, or others. Not anymore. My mom... She wants to hide me away. Keep me safe."

He sighed and reached back for the joint. "I can't blame her, but I can't lie to people anymore." He blinked tiredly at Steve.

[punched_hitler]

"Which means she'd hear about it secondhand," Steve pointed out, though when Bucky started talking, he just let him talk, handing the joint back over as soon as Bucky reached out for it.

"I don't think you should have to lie to yourself," he said slowly. "I don't think you should have to lie to anyone else, either. I... don't have a lot of experience with moms," he said, smiling sadly. "But the experience I do have says they want to see you succeed but they have a hard time letting you go, all at the same time. You've just got it doubly bad, because your mom's the president. She's trying to do what's right, it's just... a lot more public when she fails."

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky nodded. "I don't want to come out, because I don't want her to have to deal with that backlash on top of everything else, but I'm not going to hide it anymore. If somebody asks me, I'm not going to lie anymore." He took a drag off his joint.

"Can I do another really stupid thing, Steve?"

[punched_hitler]

"I think that's fair," Steve said, after considering Bucky's words. "I know you're not trying to hurt your mother, and she's not trying to hurt you. I think that's a reasonable way to solve the problem, even if," he smiled a little lopsidedly, "she might not. So just... keep in mind that you might have to defend your position to her, if it comes up. But I think it's a position worth defending."

Bucky was old enough to go to college, and that was, actually long past 'old enough' in Steve's book. He'd been on his own long before that - as soon as he'd been able to hold down a job. So technically, Bucky had been an adult in Steve's book for a couple of years already.

He laughed, softly, and said, "Sure, but I don't think anything you've done so far has been even a little stupid."

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky set the joint aside with a shaky sigh. "Alright." He patted his hand on his knee then leaned forward. He pressed his lips to Steve's before he could let his nerves get the better of him.

The weed had relaxed him enough, lowered his inhibitions just enough. Plus he would never ever be able to forgive himself for not kissing his childhood crush when he had the chance. He was fully prepared to be rejected and wouldn't be hurt at all.

[punched_hitler]

Steve probably should have seen it coming. Maybe. Except he was apparently as clueless with guys as he was with girls. He was surprised enough that he didn't push Bucky away, exactly - maybe took a second to realize he was being kissed, that it was actually happening, but even then, he wasn't about to shove at Bucky. Not after anything he'd been through.

He did, though, end up putting one hand on Bucky's arm, the other on his waist. Just for something to hold onto - and maybe to keep Bucky from outright bolting as soon as it was over. "Uh," Steve said very intelligently - and then laughed (at himself). "What was that for?" he asked - clearly honestly confused.

Okay, it probably wasn't the best thing to say. But gay or not... he still sort of had a hard time fathoming why someone might want to kiss him. In his head, he might always be stuck as skinny little 90-pound Steve Rogers, who got overlooked.

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky sat back, looking both shocked and pleased with himself. "I've wanted to do that ever since I was old enough to think about stuff like that." He hesitated then leaned in again, hand going to the back of Steve's neck to keep him close. He memorized the feeling of Steve's lips and how he looked this close, and couldn't help the flicker of tongue, the briefest of tastes before he pulled away again, unable to keep the smile off his face.

"I wanted to do that since I woke up in the hospital." He grinned at Steve, licked his lower lip then picked up the joint again. "I told you it was something stupid, I'm sorry."