a_musingly | [CLOSED TO disassembling]

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[CLOSED TO disassembling] - Something in the air?

As Steve sat on a bed in the medical wing of Stark Tower, he wondered if there was something in the air these days that he and Bucky were trading off being injured from month to month. First there was Bucky's leg injury, then he'd been lost in the jungle for a week, followed by Bucky's issues with his arm and now he'd been hit by something of HYDRA's in the last mission to end up like this. This, being the effects of the serum seemingly to have disappeared entirely, leaving him with his pre-serum body and its issues. Tony had gaped at him on listening to Steve's laundry list of medical issues before demanding 'how the hell did you survive into adulthood?' They'd all known he'd been sickly as pre-serum but apparently it had never sunk in as to how bad it actually was. He had to admit it did sound bad on paper but he'd live (mostly) fine for twenty-one years in that body and he'll deal with it today.

At least seventy years later modern medicine has developed far enough that they had medicine to help alleviate some of the symptoms of the worst of his body's poor health. The shots he'd been given and the huge amount of pills laying on the side table was proof of that. Tony was talking about developing some sort of bubble to keep him safe. He appreciated the thought but firmly vetoed that idea. The entire team wanted him to stay in the Tower where JARVIS could monitor his health twenty-four by seven. That he also tried to argue against; he 'd lived alone after his mother's death in this body until the day he joined the army, there shouldn't be any problems with him heading back to his far more upscale apartment.

He scowled darkly and started planning his escape. JARVIS would no doubt tell on him the moment he left but there were still one or two things he could do to make sure he at least got a head start. And once he was back in his apartment, it'll be hard to move him back.

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It was obvious that despite his words and the tugging that Steve was not going to be convinced to leave the situation alone. There was a part of him that knew that, an ago old buried part that was struggling forward even as Steve left his grip to move off down the alleyway towards the source of the sound. It was so Steve, and who was he to refuse when his friend was determined to make the world a better place one small fight at a time? It was more motivation than he had developed, and he was obligated to follow, to see with his own eyes how someone so debilitated with ailments just kept pushing the letter regardless.

The Winter Soldier prowled after Steve, finding the scene from his friend's shadow. A man assaulting a woman, her purse abandoned to the ground and her hands raised defensively despite the swelling cheek that she already bore. Their progress to this point had not been tracked, and he eased around Steve and seized the mugger by the back of the neck and hauled the man up, presenting the man's cursing shocked body towards Steve as if coming back with a prize for his friend. "Shall I break him?"

He has never liked bullies. And just because his lungs, heart or other senses doesn't work quite as well as the other guy on the street doesn't excuse him from from stopping bullying when he finds it. No matter if they were the kind that roamed the streets preying on the defenseless like the one they've just found right in front of them or the bigger bullies in the world like the Red Skull. And if he had to push his body a little bit to do it, so be it.

Steve was about to jump right in to pull the mugger away from the woman when Bucky intervened, far quick then he was able to do it currently. He moved instead to help the victim instead since Bucky had the mugger well in hand. "No, just knock him out and tie him up for the police. No breaking!" There's no need for any killing or broken bones now that the mugger was subdued. Or, mostly subdued as the mugger was struggling and flailing for all his worth. Once again he was reminded of a cat bringing in dead or mostly dead animals for their owner, though owner was the last thing he wanted to be in relation to Bucky.

He moved his left hand purposefully so that it grabbed the mugger's wrist that held a knife and squeezed until the weapon was dropped. There was no escape from him even as the occasional struggling leg hit him in the thigh or side, but it was ineffective as he watched Steve move to help the woman in question. She was going to be shaken for awhile, and he made certain to give his current prey a good shake in return before forcing the man to the ground and using the grubby coat to tie those hands together.

He placed a foot on the back of the mugger's neck in warning because while he was told not to break, he would use deadly force if pushed for it. It seemed that his intent was clear as the struggles subsided as sirens could be heard. "We need to go, Steve," he called simply. Armed as he was, he shouldn't be seen by the police. It would result in awkward questions about who he was and where he had come from, and he doubted explaining that he was a World War II veteran would suffice.

The victim was shaken but grateful and Steve in low undertones asked her not to say anything about Bucky to the police. While there has been sightings of Bucky fighting alongside the Avengers, no one has gotten close for anything like interviews and that was the way the Avengers liked it for now. JARVIS was actively keeping watch and obscuring any photos found on the Internet for Bucky. If at any time later Bucky felt like joining them more opening, they (and Tony's team of lawyers) were ready but for now they stayed away from law enforcement and other government organizations.

"Coming." He answered simply and giving the former victim one last reassuring smile he left the alley as quickly as possible, and didn't bother giving the mugger on the ground a second glance. "See? That wasn't so bad." Before he would have waded right into the mugger but faster or not, he suspected Bucky wouldn't have let him do anything that might end up with him getting hurt. That type of protectiveness has always chaffed but it was also nostalgic familiar right now.

He made certain that the mugger had no chance of escaping the police and only cast the victim a single look before he turned and stalked away back the way that they had come. It wasn't bad for a rescue mission, but it still seemed mostly unnecessary. However, he found it entirely endearing in his own way for Steve to rush into such things, and while he didn't carry any manner of spring in his step as he led the way to Steve's apartment, he was far more pleased than he remembered feeling in a very long time. Like something had been put to rights despite not knowing what it was.

"You were very brave," he agreed simply, his head turning to keep an eye on Steve but also to avoid traffic cameras from seeing his face. He knew that Steve would have taken on that mugger one-on-one and while that would have been interesting to see, he wanted to see his friend home safely for now. He wasn't dressed in combat gear just to keep people whispering about them after all. "...the pillow fort is still set up, right?"

This is how he liked his missions; clean and efficient. It was just that only rarely did missions finish this way, no matter how good the people involved or the pre-planning went. Plans rarely survive first contact with the enemy and all that. Bucky seemed pleased too, even if there was no sign of it in the way he moved or on his face. "It's not about being brave, Bucky. Not totally. It's about doing what's right." He said firmly as he followed after Bucky. His forehead wrinkled in thought briefly at the question about the pillow fort. "It should be? After last time I asked Miss Potts to tell whoever cleaning staff she sent over to leave it alone." He hasn't been gone too long this time anyway, only two days.

The walk from the Tower to his apartment, which in his post-serum body would be an easy stroll was much harder on his current body right now. He tried not to let it show though and forced his body to keep up with the pace Bucky set no matter how much his muscles. The air wasn't the best either and his lungs protested every time he breathed in the exhaust fumes from the cars passing by.

"You were still very brave," he repeated, since he so rarely acknowledged other people at all let alone the dangers that they had just possibly exposed themselves to. He admired in his own way that Steve had not hesitated to go down that alley despite the fact that he knew his friend could have been the one to end up injured. The weapons of today were different and heroes were more likely to end up dead for helping. He had gone to keep Steve safe, but he certainly never wanted to coddle his friend; he knew it would never be tolerated.

Even now as they walked, he didn't slow his pace much despite awareness that Steve no doubt struggled to keep up with him. He moved well and was keenly aware of his location, the depth of Steve's breathing, the way his friend put one foot in front of the other and subtly shifted his own gait to keep things as easy as possible without making it seem like he was going to make Steve feel babied. He knew his friend could do it, and so he simply gave Steve an opportunity to do that even as they neared the apartment. "Maybe we'll both fit really comfortably inside it. You can still lay on me though if you want."

He gave Bucky a wry smile at the repeated assurance that he was brave. Plenty of people have praised the bravery of Captain America but from Bucky it meant more as he seldom said anything of the like to anyone any more. He also appreciated the fact Bucky coddle him, protect him yes, but not coddle. His other friends had yet to learn the difference. Like now when he knows he's showing signs of having trouble keeping up with Bucky but his friend simply kept going (albeit a bit slower) and didn't offer to carry him or suggest taking a taxi the rest of the day.

Still he was happy to see his home appear as they made their way up the last block of street. He knows he's capable of walking the entire way as he is right now, even though it seemed like very muscle in his body was complaining about the overuse. "I'm sure we can if you want. It fit us fine last week. Are you sure it's not the other way around you're looking for?" Usually when Bucky wanted to cuddle, either in bed or in the pillow fort it was with him on the bottom. Bucky wasn't exactly light but he'd gotten used to the extra weight on him when he slept very quickly.

He continued to lead the way to the apartment that they sometimes shared, though he was forced to spend more of his time at the Tower so that Tony could test and tinker with the new arm that he had. It left him less time in the blanket fort and much less time with Steve, which he was going to change once all the numbers came back in the green. He didn't like spending all his time there, but he was pleased for a new arm which he was putting through the usual rigors of his life and missions all the time. Nothing was going to take him away from Steve right now, not like this anyway.

"No, I don't want to hurt you," he said simply because he was a lot heavier than he had been back when they were young. His arm alone increased his weight and he was far more muscle dense as well. "It will fit better now," he added as he slipped into the building and began to ascend the stairs for Steve's floor. He never took the elevator.

Steve mused that Bucky had a point about them fitting better into the pillow fort. He'd made an extra big one with the cushions and blankets he had on hand but it was still only big enough for two grown men when they were cuddled together, which is exactly that Bucky (and him as well) liked it. They'll be extra room now that he was smaller and he knew without asking that Bucky wouldn't let him go far even with the extra room. His body moved on autopilot through the front doors, pausing when he got to the stairs. Usually he'd take the stairs as well but he lived seven stories up and he's not sure if his body will take the strain of more climbing.

He's stubborn but not stupid. And that's what the elevator is there for, to ferry people up and down the floors whose body might not be up to par for climbing that day. Mind made up, he headed into the elevator proper and pressed the button for his floor, eyes watching idly as the numbers went up one by one...only two stop at the fourth floor, where the elevator stops and refuses to move. And the doors won't open either. Frowning, he pressed the emergency button for maintenance, and began to wait.

When Steve decided to use the elevator, he nodded and headed up the stairs to the apartment. He wanted to time it so that they reached the area first, but he was pleased when he reached the landing first and walked over the elevator to await it. Clearly it had stopped at the fourth floor to pick up some people, yet he was curious when it didn't ascend further. He waited patiently before nothing happened after a few minutes and then pressed the button for the seventh floor. Nothing.

He knew how to break into elevators, especially older ones. He slipped his metal fingers between the doors and flipped the latch to manually open the doors. He then peered down the shaft for signs that the elevator was rising. It wasn't. He sighed and grabbed the cables, sliding down until he found the elevator stuck with brakes engaged on the fourth floor. It was clearly a malfunction, and he crouched down before pulling open the maintenance door to peer at Steve in the elevator. "I leave you alone for a single trip up a flight of stairs, and you break the elevator?"

Steve looked up when the maintenance hatch opened and he knew who it is even before it full opened. "I did not break the elevator. It broke down by itself. These things happen and it's completely normal." He grumbled, staring up at Bucky and crossing his arms over his chest defensively. "You didn't have to come find me...building maintenance has already been contacted and they said they'll be her within an hour to fix it." And presumably let him out of the elevator first. Looking on the bright side, at least his body got a bit of rest from the long walk between the Tower and here, even if a small elevator box wouldn't be his first choice as a place of rest.

He desperately hoped that the other Avengers never found out about this or he'll never live it down. Never mind that this wasn't his fault at all. For once, he didn't actively go out looking for trouble, especially trouble of this type. "Help me out of here Bucky?" He half-asked, half-demanded.

Things in Steve's life were never normal and they were also never an accident. That was what happened when one was - or used to be - Captain America. He peered down to make certain that everything was alright, but it seemed like some kind of mechanical failure. It was an old building, so it might be expected if he didn't think too much about it. "So you want me to wait in the apartment until you are free then, or shall I wait here until you're free and then meet you upstairs?" He was fine with either scenario, but he wasn't about to get Steve all mad for him offering to haul his friend up the cables.

He frowned but shifted to his knees and reached his metal hand into the elevator for Steve to grab. "You should have just taken the stairs with me. I would have helped you up them," he said with a shake of his head.

There was no Hydra agents disguised as Shield agents trapping him alone in the elevator in order to try to capture him or any other type of enemy action against Captain America. Steve Rogers was stuck in a simple malfunctioning elevator and that was it. With a start he realized he was actually more irritated with the situation then he had thought.

He took the offered hand and allowed Bucky to haul him up. "I should be able to get to my own home by myself. I made it all the way from the tower already." He muttered. And now Bucky will have to help him up the elevator shaft anyway. "Sorry."

He pulled Steve up without a single amount of trouble on his part and gently set his friend on the top of the elevator with him. No doubt there might be some confusion when maintenance came and found no one inside, but that had never been any of his concern. Steve was with him and safe. For him, that was all that ever really mattered.

He turned around and presented his back to Steve, humming softly in the face of the unnecessary apology. "Arms around my neck to hold on," he murmured softly. "And you never need to apologize to me." Once Steve was on board, he grabbed the elevator cables and began to ascend to the seventh floor easily and silently.

There had been some concern at how underweight and thin he was as another reason to keep him at the Tower. Steve had simply shrugged it off; what was now called the Great Depression had been going on for more than half his life and then after the war started everything had been rationed. Not to mention what little he heard mostly went towards keeping a roof over his head and food and clothing could be stretched from what left over from that. Steve' stomach grumbled delicately, reminding him of his promise to eat regularly and well during his short stay in the Tower's medical wing, which is easy in the modern day with food available nearly everywhere in America and now that he had no more troubles concerning money.

Steve did as Bucky requested, hopping onto Buck's back and wrapping his arms securely around his friend's neck before resting his chin on the top of one shoulder. "I got irritated and took it out on you. I shouldn't have." He made a mental note to call and apologize to building maintenance afterwards for disappearing like this but right now he was just happy to be heading back no matter the method.

He hauled them up to the seventh floor and eased out properly so that Steve was safe to settle on the ground again as he forced the metal doors shut and set them in place. He wasn't about to cause a different kind of error for the elevator once someone got down there to fix it, and he had his prize all the same with Steve now successfully on the same floor as him as had previously been intended before the elevator broke down.

"You did?" He wasn't even particularly aware that had happened as he lead the way to the apartment and unlocked it to step inside. "I will cook, yes?" If Steve didn't want to have another bad incident today, it might not be advisable to let the Winter Soldier into the kitchen because he really only knew how to cook with open flame.

Steve was glad to be back on his own two feet, as short as his 'ride' up the elevator shaft was. Several bits of Bucky's body armour had dug uncomfortably into him but more importantly he's never liked being carried around, even out of necessity. It simply felt too much like he was being babied, even from Bucky.

He nodded and followed Bucky back inside his apartment, sighing in relief as he did so. "...sure? The bread in the breadbox should still be good...and there's canned soup in the pantry. Or pasta." He's not sure how much cooking Bucky knows how to do in a modern kitchen but it shouldn't be THAT bad. Both soup and pasta came with instructions on the outside and toast was simple enough. "I'll just go and wash up first...take a shower." There was an unspoken expectation he expected Bucky to change out of the tactical gear as well. He had been sweaty from the long hike between the tower and the apartment, and the elevator shaft wasn't the cleanest either, even if he'd spent the entire way on Bucky's back.

He nodded his head at the instructions and paused long enough to take off his combat boots before he made for the kitchen. He wasn't allowed opportunity to cook much, if at all, though he had learned things from observation and knew that all food came with instructions. If he kept to the instructions, then nothing could possibly go too badly, right?

He decided on soup first, though there was multiple instructions to pick from. In a medium sauce pan...? He searched around the kitchen until he found one and unwilling to go on another search for the can opener, he simply ripped the top off and dumped the contents into the sauce pan. He put it on the stove and his judgement call on what 'medium heat' was directly middle of the numbers, assuming that was correct. He stared at it, but he was fine to leave once he felt the element heat up under the sauce pan.

Toast didn't actually come with instructions, so it was based solely on what he had seen from others. Tony had a very deluxe toaster, which was most often used by almost everyone - but him of course - so he knew he had to put bread slices in the slots. He turned it on and wandered back to the soup which was still doing a rather lot of nothing, but he was patient and waited, pleased when it began to steam the fill the house with pleasant smells. He read the instructions and stirred it like he was told to.

He was only drawn away at the smell of smoke, which was currently coming from the toaster after a few minutes. He peered at the device in question, but with no instructions on trouble-shooting and little idea of the actual problem, he remembered seeing Clint using a knife to stimulate progress. He did so, but it didn't appear to work in this situation and instead caused sparks to fly from the device on top of smoke. Then the fire alarm was blaring, so he unplugged the toaster which was still spewing black smoke and sparks and put it in the sink because metal couldn't catch fire. He then wandered to the offending smoke detector and reached up to pull the battery. Crisis averted.

Steve had washed quickly, not quite able to stop worrying about what Bucky is doing in the kitchen. Bucky had never actually shown any interest in the cooking process and mostly simply enjoyed the end product, which was fine in Steve's eyes, as not everyone enjoyed or even was good at cooking (Tony being one example). He would have felt better if he could at least watch so he cleaned up as fast as he could. He'd only just gotten dressed in the smallest clothes he owned (and he was still drowning in them) when he heard the fire alarm come on. Rushing out to the kitchen, his hair still wet and dripping Steve barely stopped himself from tripping over the hems of the too long pants.

Okay, this wasn't as bad as it looked or sounded like at first glance. The toaster was still spewing black smoke and sparks but at least it wasn't technically on fire. And nothing else was on fire (yet). He could guess what happened to the toaster; sometimes the toast would get stuck in it instead of popping out the finished product automatically. Usually Steve just popped the lever to force it to pop the toast or the bread will burn. He looked around the kitchen for Bucky, only to find his friend turning off the fire alarm by force. "Bucky...you didn't follow Clint's example of using a knife on the toaster did you?"

Really, all things considered given this his first real cooking adventure alone in seventy years, he thought he had it all pretty under control. He dumped the battery of the fire alarm on the counter and returned to the soup to stir it now that it was getting nice and heated. He even had the good sense to open a window so that the smoke could clear, but his attention was drawn over to Steve who looked positively comical in such large clothes. "No, it was smoking before I tried a utensil," he said as if that made this the toaster's fault and not his own.

It was still sputtering and sparking in the sink all the same.

He cut more slices of bread and simply buttered them, since he managed to successfully murder the toaster on his first try. He was certain that the device had it coming for not operating in a timely and functional fashion. Too bad about the burning bread though. "Besides, if I really felt the need to knife your toaster, it wouldn't be in pieces. Soup is ready," he said before turning off the heat after another quick stir and dishing it out into bowls. "No toast though. You don't mind bread and butter?"

He'll have to replace the battery of the fire alarm later; it was a matter of safety and also if it goes without power too long it starts to beep rather annoyingly until the battery was replaced. At least, Steve thought faintly, he didn't have to replace the fire alarm entirely. Only the toaster it seemed he'll have to buy outright a new one. "If you've watched Clint use his knife on the toaster you should also have seen Natasha whack him on the back of the head for doing it." Unspoken was the question: why are you following Clint's example of all people?

"No...this is fine. Thank you." Toasted bread would have been lovely and he quickly bit back the suggestion of using a a frying pan on the stove and toasting it that way, which is what they've done hundreds of times during the war on the front. When they had bread. And/or butter or oil. One near-fire related disaster a day was more than enough and he wasn't about to tempt fate, not even with him watching Bucky do the cooking in person. Steve pulled up the pants for the third time since leaving the bathroom and made his way over to get utensils for eating. "It smells good."

"If you would like to hit me, I will let you," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. He had only tried to use that tactic because he had seen it work for Clint more than once when Natasha wasn't actually looking. Of course, he expected that she still knew about it and punished the other man anyway, but he didn't think that Steve would hold it against him too much given he had successfully made a meal and that had to count for something?

He perked at the praise for his prepared meal and wandered out of the kitchen to set the table with bowls of soup as he had helped with before. He returned for the bread and butter in case the slices he had made were not enough for them and eyed the trousers that Steve was wearing. "Why don't you just not wear those? They don't fit anyone, and I've seen you without clothes on. I don't mind."

"I'm not going to do that." There was a touch of exasperation in his voice as he replies. Clint and Natasha were close (he doesn't entirely understand their relationship but so long as they are happy it is none of his business) and that gives them liberties with each other that he wouldn't take with either one of them. He wasn't really the roughhousing type himself, always a bit afraid he will damage another person if he got careless. "Next time just use the lever on the side to get the toast out or if that still doesn't work, come get me if I'm available. Knives are last resort." A broken toaster was a small price to pay for Bucky's first efforts in cooking and any attempts should be encouraged.

Steve half walked and half waddled to the dining room table, one hand holding up the pants at the waist. "It just feels odd going around half dressed." But Bucky had a point about them being alone and having seen each other in various states of undressed. It was also tedious having to hold it up with one hand as he walked. So he strips off the pants, leaving him in the oversized shirt and boxers that looked more like shorts on him.

To be fair, it wasn't as if any strike that Steve landed on him right now would hurt enough to earn more than a real shrug. He would have liked to point out that the bread didn't come with instructions and Steve's toaster was clearly malfunctioning before he ever got to it. He could see if he could fix it later so that his friend didn't have to endeavor to get another because Tony would probably try to give out one of those enhanced deluxe ones that had lasers and a coffee warmer attached.

He seated himself in the usual spot that he took and watched Steve give up on the idea of pants. He suspected those boxers were only successfully staying up to defy gravity and nothing more. He still began to eat because he had made it and was curious what it would taste like, but it wasn't too bad, pretty much like some of the easy meals that Steve made. "Do you think I should get you clothing that fits?"

[CLOSED TO disassembling] - Something in the air?

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