as you say my name

I'm sorry for all of the italics and dashes I don't know what happened

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Bucky

It drums in his skull, dances across his tongue, in every pound of his heart.  It hurts, he hurts, and it can’t - won’t - stop.

Bucky

He growls out loud and stands up from his spot in the cafe he is in, taking care to keep his face hidden by his oversized black hoody. He doesn’t bother looking back, keeps his gaze on the ground, and watches the tile change to concrete as he steps out of the shop.

Bucky

It’s maddening, really, the way a name, a fucking name, has him so out of whack, yet it doesn’t stop his stomach from rolling and his palms from getting clammy.

He speeds up his pace and keeps moving, not quite sure of where his feet are leading him. He hopes it will be far away.

He can’t handle being here.

Not when he had almost kill - he freezes and swallows, feeling his stomach roll again - not when he had almost killed his missi - Captain Ame - Steve. Steve. The short asthmatic punk, he remembers, Steve, who couldn't keep himself out of trouble. Steve. His best friend.

His brow furrows.

He was his best friend. He had probably fucked everything up. He fucked up-

He pushes through the mass of people and nearly falls into an alleyway, breathing hard, tears stinging in his eyes. “God fucking damn it.” His voice is hoarse from lack of use and from the tightness in his throat. “I - I - I fucking- goddamn it - I -” he takes in a large, gasping breath, and he feels like he is going to pass out. Feels like he is having an asthma attack, so much like - like - Steve - used to have.

Bucky

He lets out a choked sob, and wants to be so much smaller than he was. He curls into himself, arms over his knees, knees drawn up to his chest. He wants to just disappear. Then he couldn't do anymore damage, kill any more people, couldn’t hurt Steve-

He leans over and vomits.

He wipes his mouth with his left sleeve, takes a look at the silver of his hand, of his arm, and lets out a long, breathy, drawn-out sigh. He rests his head against the stone behind him and closes his eyes, pretending to be relaxed, but in actuality, was the last thing he was.

Bucky

He picks himself up and let his feet carry him out of the alley. He keeps his head down once more and just walks. It reminds him - he thinks it does - of walking with Steve, when they were friends, and they would just walk. Sure, he remembers - does he? -  that they did this when it was hot out,  not as bitter as the weather is now; Steve’s lungs couldn’t handle that, and the thought makes him nostalgic.

Bucky

He looks up at where he is standing now, and his heart hammers in his chest. In large lettering, SMITHSONIAN taunts him, beckoning him inside. He almost ignores it, even though he knows that he wants to- he needs to- then he sees him. Steve.

Of course, it’s not actually Steve, it’s a picture of Captain America, and yet the memories come flooding back to him.

He’s laughing, laughing hard, and flings his arm over the smaller boy’s shoulders.

“You’re an ass, Buck, you know that?” But Steve’s laughing too, eyes crinkled, smile taking up his face.

“You wound me, Stevie. You know it wasn’t my fault.”

Steve snorts at this, and they both double over laughing, clutching to each other as they try to make the way home.

He doesn't remember why they were laughing, maybe he will later, but he remembers Steve, God, he remembers Steve, and adjusts his hood and takes out a few bills from his pocket and trudges inside the museum.

He takes the steps one at a time at first, then hurries as he gets closer to the exhibit. He sucks in a breath when he sees Steve’s pictures again, swallows, steels his nerves and enters the Captain America exhibit.

Bucky

He blinks at the name, the picture, everything. He gets flashes, not all at once, when he gets home, but he realizes something as he looks at the large memorial they have built up for Steve’s friend, Steve’s best friend, James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky, and that’s when it sinks in.

“I-I’m Bucky,” and even said as a whisper, it sends shocks though his entire person, and he has to struggle to stay standing.

He doesn’t leave the exhibit until closing.

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