What the Water Gave Me

Chapter Nineteen

Everything Bucky brought him was sopping wet, which Steve understood and tried not to resent, except for the fact that they were things that shouldn’t necessarily be wet, like pillows and clean pants. Bucky refused to speak to him for the rest of the day, even when Steve apologized and leaned over the edge to reach him and he didn’t acknowledge Steve when he blew kisses in his direction.

“Aw, come on,” Steve grumbled. “That’s your thing, you like blowing kisses.” Bucky didn’t respond. “You’re really this mad? Come on!”

Steve did not consider telling Bucky he loved him. He remembered promising to himself that that would be the first thing he did if he ever saw Bucky again, but things were different and Steve was honestly a little afraid. It wasn’t that Bucky didn’t love him, because he knew that he did, it was that Steve knew if they both loved each other, it would hurt worse the more and more it became obvious that staying together was impossible. They’d tried this already, this keeping each other. It hadn’t even worked when Bucky was human so who was to say that it’d work now, when Bucky ate people and breathed water?

There was too much pain. It was too complicated. He couldn’t do it and everything hurt too much.

“You never told me,” Steve said finally that night as he wrung the third pillow out. “You never told me why you didn’t kill me.” Bucky glanced over at him from where he was propping himself up on a rock and running his fingers through his hair. He dove into the water to retrieve his whiteboard and came back up.

“What are you talking about,” he wrote.

“The first time you saw me,” Steve said. “You didn’t know me but you didn’t kill me.” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“You know why I didn’t kill you,” he wrote.

“I don’t,” Steve said. Bucky glared.

“Because I fell in love with you,” he wrote, jabbing at the board so hard with the pen that Steve could hear it. “Is that not obvious??”

“Love at first sight isn’t real,” Steve said.

“Says you,” Bucky replied.

“Are you sure it wasn’t, I dunno, because you kind of remembered me?” Steve asked. He set his pillow down behind him, although it was still wet. “I mean, maybe you loved me and when you saw me, you remembered loving me.”

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Bucky wrote.

“You gotta care a little,” Steve prodded. He looked around for a spot to climb down, hoping he could meet Bucky. He found a smaller ledge and slid himself down. “That was the last twenty five years of your life, and it was with me.” Bucky glared.

“That would matter why?” He wrote. Steve stopped and tried to grin at him prettily.

“Because you love me,” he said in a teasing, sing-song voice, trying to lighten the mood, but Bucky only ground his teeth back and forth loudly. Maybe that had been insensitive.

“I don’t care about remembering,” he wrote. “I don’t care at all. And stop making fun of me. Liking you at all is torture enough, I promise.”

“Why??” Steve cried, ignoring the jab. “Why don’t you care?” He found another ledge even closer to the water and climbed onto that one, inching closer and closer to Bucky. The water lapped at his bare feet.

“It won’t change anything!” Bucky replied. “It won’t change one single thing. Not me, not you. Not my feelings or yours. Not my species or yours. So I don’t care.”

Steve reached out for Bucky, leaning over the water. Bucky looked him up and down and turned his nose up, setting his board down and turning away.

“If you aren’t swimming over here, I’m swimming over there,” he said.

“Why?” Bucky wrote and held the board up over his shoulder.

“Because I want to sleep and I’m not sleeping without you,” Steve said.

“You can’t sleep in the water,” Bucky replied. He turned a little more now and pointed down where the water got deep. “I was going to sleep there.”

“Well, can you pick a spot with a little more air nearby?” Steve asked. “Like, you know, right here?” Bucky was seething.

“You have made it abundantly clear what your feelings are,” he said. “I’d appreciate it if you’d stop tormenting me about it.”

“I’m not tormenting you!” Steve cried and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Right,” he said and made a face at Steve. “And that’s why you’re joking about sleeping with me again.”

“It’s not a joke,” Steve said and Bucky looked like he might cry again.

“I’m done begging and pleading and looking pitiful in front of you,” he said. “Stop patronizing me.”

“I’m not!” Steve cried. “I’m really not!” Bucky hissed at him and turned around again. “Fine,” Steve said and threw his hands up. “I don’t care.”

“I don’t care, either,” Bucky held the board up over his shoulder.

“Good night,” Steve said.

“Good. Night,” Bucky wrote. There was a long quiet where Steve expected Bucky to cave and he didn’t.

“I’m going to sleep now,” Steve sang, stretching out on the rock and lying his head on the wet pillow. “You’re missing your chance!” Bucky whirled around and hissed again violently and then threw himself into the water. Steve sat up to watch him sink to the very, very bottom of the cave and curl himself up in a circle. He sat up and fluffed his wet pillow and rolled his eyes angrily. “Sea creatures,” he growled spitefully.