Chapter Text
Even after everything the Avengers and all of their friends had gone through to defeat Thanos, restoring the lives that had been so casually extinguished, Tony Stark still wanted nothing to do with James Buchanan “my name is Bucky” Barnes. And Bucky couldn’t blame him one bit.
There were days he didn’t want anything to do with himself either. No matter how many times someone said, “That wasn’t you,” it didn’t make the statement true. The fact was, it had been him. Maybe not a willing, controlled him, but he’d still done it. So, HYDRA had stuck his brain in a blender. They may have added their branded cocktail but they had found something within him that they’d wanted to add it to.
He had been the only prisoner in Azzano who survived the experiments. Zola had recorded that none of their tactics could get Bucky to give them anything other than name, rank and serial number. The Nazi doctor, unwilling to believe that it was due to sheer willpower alone, put it down to something in Barnes’ DNA. He’d been trying to figure that out when his subject had inconveniently been rescued.
After Siberia, Steve had showed him the file thinking it would answer some of Bucky’s questions. It did. But the notes also proved that whichever trait had allowed them to create the foundation for The Winter Soldier, it was an innate part of him and always would be.
Bucky didn’t want to hear that he wasn’t to blame. Steve had no idea what he was talking about. Because if HYDRA hadn’t been able to turn him, if he hadn’t survived, well maybe there never would have been a Winter Soldier program at all.
The deprogramming performed by Shuri and her team in Wakanda successfully unshackled him from the infamous operative but that was only the tip of the iceberg. Becoming more and more cognizant of exactly what he had done under HYDRA’s control had etched deep fears and scars that would take much longer to alleviate.
Just like the ones on his shoulder, Bucky didn’t hold any illusions that they would ever fully heal.
He also didn’t fully trust that all traces of the other guy had been erased. The time between Shuri pulling him out of cryo and The Snap had only been a few months. Yes, they had regularly tested him by repeating the words over and over. No, there hadn’t been one hint of his subconscious trying to betray him. But with Zola and all the majority of his data lost forever, the Wakandans had to rely solely upon hypothesis and analysis. Sure, theirs was a highly educated and advanced culture, but they were guessing just the same.
If history had taught him anything, it was that he had a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And, to be honest, his luck also left a lot to be desired. Whatever false sense of courage and determination he used to hold onto as a kid was lost along with his arm. Bucky may have survived but that cocky, self-sure kid from Brooklyn was gone.
He had started coming to grips with that fact when he was in Romania. One thing about isolating yourself is you have plenty of time for self-reflection. The Wakandans had then helped him learn to accept who he had become. Other than Steve and Sam, the rest of the world didn’t have the same faith.
Post-Snap, when Tony invited the Avengers back to their residences at The Facility, the invite did not include the man who had killed his parents. Steve explained that he and Sam appreciated the offer, and even understood his feelings, but the trio had become a package deal. They couldn’t leave behind one of their own. If the billionaire wanted the team back together permanently, he would have to extend an olive branch to his most-hated enemy.
Neither Stark nor Barnes thought this was a good idea but they were outnumbered. Steve and Sam recruited Pepper's help. They joined forces to beg amnesty for the man that had nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to. Plus, wasn’t access to the best mental health practitioners — surrounding the man with people who could successfully contain him should something go awry — in everyone’s best interests? They finally cajoled Tony into accepting that Bucky had simply been HYDRA’s pawn like so many others. And that’s what the Avengers were for: to help those who couldn’t help themselves.
Tony reluctantly agreed to a trial period as long as he never had to see or hear from the former assassin. Bucky was surprised when he realized that more than three months had passed since he’d moved into the compound without a single threat of being kicked back out onto the curb. Admittedly, he’d made a conscious effort to stay out of the man’s way as required. He knew Tony couldn’t have forgotten about him with all the hyper-vigilant security in and around the building. Staying under someone’s radar had been a good skill to retain.
Maybe I’m finally doing something right, Bucky thought.
He also had to admit that his friends and the professional counseling was making him feel more comfortable with the whole arrangement. He was even starting to feel like he was becoming part of normal society again. If you could call the Avengers normal, that is.
The biggest issue he had yet to tackle was boredom. When they were around, Bucky usually trained with Sam or Steve. Not because he wanted to keep his skills fresh or anything. But he’d never been one to sit around idle for long. Like everything else, the enhancement amplified his need to keep busy. His pals did the best they could to help.
On a quiet Friday night, there was a knock at his door. Expecting the guys to watch the baseball game on TV, he shouted, “Come in.”
Alone, Sam entered carrying two pizzas. Bucky asked, “No Steve?”
“Our boy got himself a date.”
“A date? How’d he manage that?”
“You’ve met the man, right?”
“I mean, where’d he meet her? He’s been busy all week.”
Sam placed the cardboard box on the coffee table and shrugged. “Dude walks down the street and women throw digits at him. I think he said this one works in a bookstore. Or was that the last one? I can’t keep track of all his hookups.”
“What’s a hookup?”
As he walked over to the mini-fridge in the kitchenette, Sam answered. “I guess Big Brother hasn’t had The Talk with you yet. A hookup is casual sex, no strings.” He carried two cold bottles of beer back to the sitting area and handed one to Bucky.
“And you’re telling me Steven Grant Rogers has these hookups?”
“Like all the time. Well, when he’s not busy with missions and stuff. What do you think he’s doing when he’s not hanging out with us?”
“Reading. Gals are okay with this?”
“He’s Captain fucking America. Like, literally.” He made a humping motion, then guffawed at his own joke.
“Jesus, I really am turning into him.” Sam gave him a confused look. “The old him.”
“When was the last time you were with someone?”
Bucky glared at him which Sam knew meant he should back off. But he couldn’t let it go. “I know it’s been a while. Just tell me.”
Not wanting to see the reaction he would get, Bucky turned to face the TV. “1943.”
“Get the fuck out.”
He took a big swig of his drink. “I’m serious.”
“Those HYDRA are some sick motherfuckers.”
Bucky appreciated the compassion in his friend's voice but did not like being reminded of all that the nefarious organization had stolen from him. He killed his bottle and went to get another.
“Well, Uncle Sammy’s going to help you remedy that real quick in the interest of your health and well-being.”
“Sam, no. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not? Aw, man. They didn’t mess that up too, did they?”
“What?”
“You know,” he said taking a furtive glance at Bucky’s crotch then back up again.
“No!”
“Then there is nothing to worry about. I’m not going to throw you to the wolves. We’ll take it nice and easy. What are you into?”
“Into?”
“Women, men? Both? Neither?”
“Women!”
“One cannot assume anything these days, Bucky. It’s all ‘live and let live’. I can see I have my work cut out for me.”
“Maybe you should go. This is all a big joke to you. You’re not taking me seriously.”
“I am too. You’re my friend, and my friend seriously needs to get laid.”
“Stop! I’m not ready. Okay?”
“Oh, geez. I’m sorry. You’ve never...?”
“God, Sam. You are such a pain in the ass. I’m not a virgin. I just never did it after The Serum and with all the brainwashing and shit, who knows what could happen.”
“As far as I know, Steve’s never had an issue. Maybe talk to him and the doctors about it.”
“I don’t even want to talk about it now, and I do not want to hear all about my best friend’s business, let alone ask some strangers.”
“C’mon. You can’t tell me you’re not at least curious.”
He had him there.
“At least let me just catch you up on what’s changed since The Forties. Consider this your first night of Twenty-first Century sexual education, son.” After plating himself a couple slices of Meat Lover’s pizza, Sam began his lecture.