There are a number of reasons Bucky came first, but Steve isn't in the habit of lying to himself, and--yes, Love, with a capital L, was most certainly one of them. The thing about his choices back then was that almost all of them would have been the same without that emotional impetus behind them. He was never going to sign the Accords, Bucky or no. He had to bring in the Winter Soldier himself, because he was the most likely to manage it without dying in the process, something he was intimately aware of after almost being beaten to death by him. The idea of other Winter Soldiers, active and ready to take down governments and potentially too lethal even for Bucky to face was too horrifying a prospect to ignore. Everything he did up until the face off with Zemo was in accordance with Steve's values, which is why the sonovabitch was able to predict his moves so flawlessly.
That last conflict was where he went off the rails, started operating as much on hair-trigger and instinct and panic as anything else. Where he started hearing Bucky screaming as he fell from the train decades ago.
It was never going to be the same, after all that. It could have been something, even something beautiful, but the same? That ship sailed in 1942. You can't turn back time.
Or can you? Here they are.
Steve removes his shoes by the door tidily, tucking them under the suitcase-stand, then watches Tony take his drink. Maybe not the healthiest idea, but he's not the man's babysitter.
He worries his lip. "Okay, Tony. I'll do my best, but after the mission's over, when we get back to our time..."
He's not sure how to complete that sentence. 'Invite me to the wedding'? He can't know how this will all work out, only that he wants Tony to get some kind of peace at the end of this. And he's too focused on that thought to react to the goading, so he just pulls off the sweatshirt he's wearing, then the undershirt beneath.
no subject
He had to bring in the Winter Soldier himself, because he was the most likely to manage it without dying in the process, something he was intimately aware of after almost being beaten to death by him. The idea of other Winter Soldiers, active and ready to take down governments and potentially too lethal even for Bucky to face was too horrifying a prospect to ignore. Everything he did up until the face off with Zemo was in accordance with Steve's values, which is why the sonovabitch was able to predict his moves so flawlessly.
That last conflict was where he went off the rails, started operating as much on hair-trigger and instinct and panic as anything else. Where he started hearing Bucky screaming as he fell from the train decades ago.
It was never going to be the same, after all that. It could have been something, even something beautiful, but the same? That ship sailed in 1942. You can't turn back time.
Or can you? Here they are.
Steve removes his shoes by the door tidily, tucking them under the suitcase-stand, then watches Tony take his drink. Maybe not the healthiest idea, but he's not the man's babysitter.
He worries his lip. "Okay, Tony. I'll do my best, but after the mission's over, when we get back to our time..."
He's not sure how to complete that sentence. 'Invite me to the wedding'? He can't know how this will all work out, only that he wants Tony to get some kind of peace at the end of this. And he's too focused on that thought to react to the goading, so he just pulls off the sweatshirt he's wearing, then the undershirt beneath.