Don't Stop Believing.
Title: Better when I bleed.
Rating: Not too high, but there's a warning for self-harm.
Pairing: None specifically.
Part: 8 of 13
Notes: This started out as a nice little piece of nothingness, except that changed as at the moment its 33,000 words. So I apologise if it doesn't flow but I just couldn't seem to stop my head from turning over.
Thanks: Sparklyfiend has kindly read over this and made sure that it makes sense, which has been GREATLY appreciated. TBH, I might as well just share credit with Sparklyfiend. She has done so much to help.
Following his very unusual conversation, (if you could call a lot of inane questions a conversation), with Captain Rogers, Howard decided that the best course of action was to go and get as drunk as physically possible. Sure, he considered calling Peggy, but it was past ten and he didn’t think she would take all that kindly to being disturbed so late in the night. Drinking alone had been a been an option, but he wasn’t sure that he trusted himself to be alone given how suddenly down he felt. It was bizarre how seeing behind the veil was so emotionally draining and drinking alone always made him feel miserable.
So his only option was to go out and drink with the rest of the boys.
Of course, he drank a couple of swift doubles to get him in the mood for the serious drinking that he was going to in the bar. He wasn’t quite sure what he had been expecting from the younger man. An outburst of some sort? Tears? Violence? A small breakdown? Maybe even violence? All of these options seemed to be valid, and yet the complete lack of response that he had received made him feel oddly empty. Had he rushed to become involved so he could feel like some sort of hero? He hadn’t thought so, but now he was beginning to reconsider that.
The bar he found was a typical English one, full of military men, and women who were seeking husbands. Howard wondered whether such girls realised the real dangers the men faced out in the rest of Europe or whether they just saw a bunch of well dressed potential husbands. It was enough to make him crave a drink even more, and he pushed his way to the front of the bar ignoring the groans of complaint from the service men.
He was served quickly, much to the displeasure of those around him and turned on the bar, hoping to see at least one person that he actually knew. Fortunately for him, Barnes had secured himself a table at the back end of the bar and looked like the only plan in his mind was to obliterate the whole of his last mission from his memory.
“Fancy some company?” He said somewhat half-heartedly, but he had already taken stool and dragged it towards the table. Bucky did not look all that impressed, and Howard could not be certain whether it was company in general he did not appreciate or his particular company - although, if he had to guess, he would have said the latter.
“Do I have a choice?” Bucky bit back, his voice already rough with alcohol. This was the first time they had any social interaction but they had met a few times before and that made the young sergeant the best option for some serious drinking in the bar, even if he didn’t seem particularly receptive.
“It appears not,” Howard conceded the point. “But if it’s any consolation,” he placed his wallet on the table, “the drinks are on me?” Bucky nodded in slow appreciation and took a quick mouthful from his glass. “Looks like it’s been a rough day for the pair of us.” Howard began, motioning to the collection of empty glasses surrounding the solider and vaguely wondered why none of them had been collected yet.
“Try a rough week.” He raised his glass and Howard smiled in agreement and they both took a long drink.
The evening drew on in much the same manner, except somewhere along the line the empty glasses had been removed and replaced with a (suddenly) half-empty bottle of bourbon. They quickly found that the more they drank the easier the conversation seemed to flow, and that they actually enjoyed getting to know each other, even professing their love for each other a few times.
“You know Steve is lucky to have someone like you watching his back, I mean even that outfit doesn’t look too ridiculous.” Bucky confessed, the alcohol had made his skin redden and his eyes appear glassy. “When am I getting one? Can’t all be about the pretty boy,” there was no malice in Bucky’s voice; instead there was a vague undercurrent of sibling rivalry.
“You know Agent Carter has her eyes on him?” Howard explained, he didn’t even know why he was even talking about it, because he was fairly sure that everyone knew that.
“She ain’t got eyes for no one else.” Bucky confirmed laughing low in his throat and took a long drink from his glass before pouring himself another one. “What’s a guy to do when he ain’t getting any action from anywhere?” There was an odd bitterness in his tone that remained unexplained, but Howard was quick with a rebuff.
“Speak for yourself,” he replied in a most affected tone.
“Well, not, no action,” he clarified the slight twinkle in his eye indicating that he had one particular encounter in mind. “But not as much as I could be,” there was a brief pause, “not when blue eyes is kicking around.” Once again there was no malice, only affection, but Howard couldn’t help but feel like Bucky wasn’t altogether comfortable with playing second fiddle to Steve.
“It’s not nice to be jealous,” he said over the lip of his glass.
“Who said I’m jealous?” Bucky bit back again and Howard could tell that he had struck a nerve. “He wouldn’t know what to do with a good woman if she came with instructions,” Howard couldn’t help but smirk at that, “but they seem to be willing to teach him.” There was an odd emotion in his voice that Howard might have recognised if he was sober, but sobriety seemed a long time ago. “Dames ,eh?” Bucky added after a thoughtful pause, as though overcompensating, but the engineer nodded anyway and they both took a swig from their glasses.
“I’ve come to realise that women like the illusion of perfection.” Stark almost laughed at his own words, in his experience women certainly did like perfection but they didn’t stick with it, most women still wanted a man who was a bit rough around the edges. Which was fortunate because it meant there would always be women willing to satisfy him? The young sergeant smiled greatly, and Howard thought it was odd for him to seek amusement in a jibe against his friend.
“God knows what they’d do with Steve then,” they shared a knowing smile and there was a definite resentment in that smile.
“He is kind of perfect isn’t he?” Howard said somewhat wistfully, but it was probably the alcohol talking. Bucky, however, was used to imbibing huge amounts of alcohol and did not miss the affection in his voice. He raised a questioning eyebrow but didn’t question Howard further.
“Been trying to beat that out of him since he was thirteen,” Bucky didn’t even bother to try and hide his affection, and Howard could tell that he was reminiscing on times gone by, although it didn’t occur to him what that meant until later.
“Not going well?” They both laughed at this, seeing the underlying joke and probably succumbing to the effects of the alcohol.
“Well, he’s a stubborn son of a bitch.” The brunette tried to defend his failings, but smiled at the thought of his friend, which in a sober state Howard might have found very telling since it practically screamed that he was missing a dear friend.
“Ha,” he laughed, almost choking on the mouthful of honey coloured liquid he had been drinking. Perhaps it was almost choking, but it suddenly occurred to Howard that Bucky really had known Steve for a very long time. “You’ve known him that long?” Possibly not the quickest leap to a solution Howard had ever made, but Bucky smiled somewhat sadly.
“I’d say I’ve known him since we were both in short trousers,” Bucky laughed but it sounded hollow, “but that was last year for him so doesn’t make my point.” Howard didn’t laugh at the joke but Bucky carried on anyway, his voice softened as he did.
“He’s like my little brother.” It was a simple explanation but it’s one that made Howard oddly jealous.
“Little?” He threw the little dig out to the air because it seemed appropriate, and from what he had seen, that was what men did with each other when they were friends?
“He’s always going to be the skinny kid from Brooklyn to me,” Bucky shrugged, but the frown on his face said more than his words. “Which is just as well ‘cos I’m not sure I’d do too well if I was on his bad side.” His companion meant it as a joke, since Howard had yet to see anyone make it onto Steve’s bad side, but even in his intoxicated state he can tell that Bucky was not all that comfortable with his friend at the moment. Which Howard could not understand, since Steve was the kind of man who seemed to like everyone despite what they said about him... everyone apart from Howard? The revelation dawned like the morning sun, and Howard swallowed heavily.
“What, like me?” His tone changed and suddenly he felt oddly down. The conversation had only made him remember exactly what he had come there to forget.
“You kidding?” Bucky almost jumped out of his chair at Stark’s revelation, knocking the table as he moved and some of the liquid in his glass spilt on the wooden table between them. “He’s always ranting about how smart you are.” He meant it as a comfort but Howard failed to see it as such.
“Too smart. I get myself in trouble.” He paused for a long moment and wondered, for the first time, why he had not thought to tell Bucky about Steve in the first place. He had failed to realise they were so close, but that was stupid of him because Steve had jumped out of a plane into a warzone to save Bucky and just because he hadn’t seen them together all that much didn’t mean they weren’t the best of friends.
There was a long, but comfortable, silence and Howard didn’t know whether he wanted to continue the line of conversation that the discussion was on. He tried to buy himself some more time by taking a long drink out of his glass, and ultimately ended up staring at the bottom before he poured himself another. He ran his finger around the lip of the glass before downing that drink too. “Can I tell you something?” Bucky had been watching him intently, waiting, and nodded slowly, taking a drink as he did so.
“Looks like you’re going to tell me anyway.” He said flatly, and Howard couldn’t deny he was right.
“If I were to say, uh, well...” he stopped, trying to find the right words. “Steve. If I was to say that I was worried about him what you would say?” Howard stared at his companion for a long moment waiting for the calculated response.
“I’d say you might want to think about getting glasses,” initially Bucky laughed, but when he looked up at his new friend he had realised that it was no joke. “What do you know that you’re not telling me?” Howard poured them both another drink before he replied.
“Earlier,” he had said carefully, “I saw him... and he... he...” he took a desperate drink from his well-used glass. “He had this knife and...” unable to find the words to explain he gestured slashes across his thigh. “And I noticed a while back that there were some... scars... but he doesn’t...” he fumbled for the words. “I mean, he doesn’t exactly work the same way as you or me, so it was hard to know what was happening and...” it was by far the least coherent explanation the mechanic had ever given, and apparently Bucky thought so too because he interrupted him before he could finish it.
“Sorry, work the same?” Bucky seemed genuinely confused.
“I thought you’d know,” Howard was sure he was slurring by this point which might have been partly to blame for the blank look he received from Bucky. “Something to do with his metabolism,” he waved his hand, “I can’t pretend to be a Doctor. He heals faster than you or me - means you might not pick up on it.” He added at the end, noticing the pained expression forming across Bucky’s features. From that look he assumed that all of this was coming as news to the Sergeant, which was rather surprising.
“I should have,” Howard wondered when Bucky became the one that was blaming himself for Steve’s problems because he was fairly sure two minutes before it was him feeling like that. Nevertheless, he placed what he hoped was a reassuring hand on his shoulder, which only managed to elicit a bemused look from Bucky so he retracted his hand. One day he would get used to the correct etiquette of a drinking buddy, but today was not that day.
“Back in Brooklyn, the first time we met, I pulled a couple of bigger guys off him...” Howard failed to see the importance but Bucky continued. “And that happened like, at least, once a month from then on in and he just... he just never learned. He’d just let them knock seven barrels o’ shit out of him- well not so much let , but they did anyway. And I’ve never heard him complain about it once, guess he kind of went looking for it.” He took a mouthful of his drink to steady his nerves. “I always thought it was something he’d grow out of... not grow into.” He admitted, sadly.
“The guy has issues,” Howard said by way of conciliation and also took another drink but rather felt it was an over-simplification.
“You wanna be the one to tell him that?” Bucky mirrored his actions and also took a drink, neither one of them liking the conversation. He sounded somewhat angry.
“Not really,” Howard confirmed.
“Can’t help him if he doesn’t want to help himself.” There was a resigned tone to Bucky’s voice and it only convinced Howard that maybe they have had too much to drink. There was clearly something going on between the two men that he was not aware of.
“Won’t hurt to try,” he shrugged, feeling suddenly down.
“You know I’ll always try when it comes to Steve,” that was enough to satisfy Howard but Bucky continued, unable to stop himself now that he had started. “But he’s so damn pig-headed - I doubt I’ll be of much help - I mean what do you say to him? I don’t know what I’m supposed to say?” He shrugged, but Howard thought he could see the weight of the world on the younger man’s shoulders. “He’s some big star now, got everything he wanted, ain’t got no reason to hate on himself. Hell, he even got the girl, and he’s still not happy.” Bucky’s tone was odd, because rather than sounding angry or harsh, the young sergeant sounded more tired and worn out, and Howard sensed that maybe he was also in the public house to drink away his problems concerning Steve.
“You ever notice that he gets this look in his eyes like he’s not quite himself,” Howard changed the subject, not intentionally, but his mind had been running around over Steve all of a sudden and from the way Bucky looked at him he appreciated that the change of subject probably made no sense. “Not that I’m paying him too much attention,” he excused himself, “but it’s hard not to notice. It’s something our lovely Agent Carter made me aware of... it’s hard not to see when you know it’s there.” Bucky shoot him a doubtful look. “Seriously, look out for it. You won’t be able to avoid seeing it.” He added, wishing that he had not been so loose-lipped.
“I’ll make a note,” he said rather doubtfully, a cloud of misery having formed around him. Howard felt suddenly awkward and they descended into silent drinking until Bucky finally broke it. “Now, how about you get us another bottle in?” Howard did as requested - he figured he owed the guy.
Part Nine
Rating: Not too high, but there's a warning for self-harm.
Pairing: None specifically.
Part: 8 of 13
Notes: This started out as a nice little piece of nothingness, except that changed as at the moment its 33,000 words. So I apologise if it doesn't flow but I just couldn't seem to stop my head from turning over.
Thanks: Sparklyfiend has kindly read over this and made sure that it makes sense, which has been GREATLY appreciated. TBH, I might as well just share credit with Sparklyfiend. She has done so much to help.
Following his very unusual conversation, (if you could call a lot of inane questions a conversation), with Captain Rogers, Howard decided that the best course of action was to go and get as drunk as physically possible. Sure, he considered calling Peggy, but it was past ten and he didn’t think she would take all that kindly to being disturbed so late in the night. Drinking alone had been a been an option, but he wasn’t sure that he trusted himself to be alone given how suddenly down he felt. It was bizarre how seeing behind the veil was so emotionally draining and drinking alone always made him feel miserable.
So his only option was to go out and drink with the rest of the boys.
Of course, he drank a couple of swift doubles to get him in the mood for the serious drinking that he was going to in the bar. He wasn’t quite sure what he had been expecting from the younger man. An outburst of some sort? Tears? Violence? A small breakdown? Maybe even violence? All of these options seemed to be valid, and yet the complete lack of response that he had received made him feel oddly empty. Had he rushed to become involved so he could feel like some sort of hero? He hadn’t thought so, but now he was beginning to reconsider that.
The bar he found was a typical English one, full of military men, and women who were seeking husbands. Howard wondered whether such girls realised the real dangers the men faced out in the rest of Europe or whether they just saw a bunch of well dressed potential husbands. It was enough to make him crave a drink even more, and he pushed his way to the front of the bar ignoring the groans of complaint from the service men.
He was served quickly, much to the displeasure of those around him and turned on the bar, hoping to see at least one person that he actually knew. Fortunately for him, Barnes had secured himself a table at the back end of the bar and looked like the only plan in his mind was to obliterate the whole of his last mission from his memory.
“Fancy some company?” He said somewhat half-heartedly, but he had already taken stool and dragged it towards the table. Bucky did not look all that impressed, and Howard could not be certain whether it was company in general he did not appreciate or his particular company - although, if he had to guess, he would have said the latter.
“Do I have a choice?” Bucky bit back, his voice already rough with alcohol. This was the first time they had any social interaction but they had met a few times before and that made the young sergeant the best option for some serious drinking in the bar, even if he didn’t seem particularly receptive.
“It appears not,” Howard conceded the point. “But if it’s any consolation,” he placed his wallet on the table, “the drinks are on me?” Bucky nodded in slow appreciation and took a quick mouthful from his glass. “Looks like it’s been a rough day for the pair of us.” Howard began, motioning to the collection of empty glasses surrounding the solider and vaguely wondered why none of them had been collected yet.
“Try a rough week.” He raised his glass and Howard smiled in agreement and they both took a long drink.
The evening drew on in much the same manner, except somewhere along the line the empty glasses had been removed and replaced with a (suddenly) half-empty bottle of bourbon. They quickly found that the more they drank the easier the conversation seemed to flow, and that they actually enjoyed getting to know each other, even professing their love for each other a few times.
“You know Steve is lucky to have someone like you watching his back, I mean even that outfit doesn’t look too ridiculous.” Bucky confessed, the alcohol had made his skin redden and his eyes appear glassy. “When am I getting one? Can’t all be about the pretty boy,” there was no malice in Bucky’s voice; instead there was a vague undercurrent of sibling rivalry.
“You know Agent Carter has her eyes on him?” Howard explained, he didn’t even know why he was even talking about it, because he was fairly sure that everyone knew that.
“She ain’t got eyes for no one else.” Bucky confirmed laughing low in his throat and took a long drink from his glass before pouring himself another one. “What’s a guy to do when he ain’t getting any action from anywhere?” There was an odd bitterness in his tone that remained unexplained, but Howard was quick with a rebuff.
“Speak for yourself,” he replied in a most affected tone.
“Well, not, no action,” he clarified the slight twinkle in his eye indicating that he had one particular encounter in mind. “But not as much as I could be,” there was a brief pause, “not when blue eyes is kicking around.” Once again there was no malice, only affection, but Howard couldn’t help but feel like Bucky wasn’t altogether comfortable with playing second fiddle to Steve.
“It’s not nice to be jealous,” he said over the lip of his glass.
“Who said I’m jealous?” Bucky bit back again and Howard could tell that he had struck a nerve. “He wouldn’t know what to do with a good woman if she came with instructions,” Howard couldn’t help but smirk at that, “but they seem to be willing to teach him.” There was an odd emotion in his voice that Howard might have recognised if he was sober, but sobriety seemed a long time ago. “Dames ,eh?” Bucky added after a thoughtful pause, as though overcompensating, but the engineer nodded anyway and they both took a swig from their glasses.
“I’ve come to realise that women like the illusion of perfection.” Stark almost laughed at his own words, in his experience women certainly did like perfection but they didn’t stick with it, most women still wanted a man who was a bit rough around the edges. Which was fortunate because it meant there would always be women willing to satisfy him? The young sergeant smiled greatly, and Howard thought it was odd for him to seek amusement in a jibe against his friend.
“God knows what they’d do with Steve then,” they shared a knowing smile and there was a definite resentment in that smile.
“He is kind of perfect isn’t he?” Howard said somewhat wistfully, but it was probably the alcohol talking. Bucky, however, was used to imbibing huge amounts of alcohol and did not miss the affection in his voice. He raised a questioning eyebrow but didn’t question Howard further.
“Been trying to beat that out of him since he was thirteen,” Bucky didn’t even bother to try and hide his affection, and Howard could tell that he was reminiscing on times gone by, although it didn’t occur to him what that meant until later.
“Not going well?” They both laughed at this, seeing the underlying joke and probably succumbing to the effects of the alcohol.
“Well, he’s a stubborn son of a bitch.” The brunette tried to defend his failings, but smiled at the thought of his friend, which in a sober state Howard might have found very telling since it practically screamed that he was missing a dear friend.
“Ha,” he laughed, almost choking on the mouthful of honey coloured liquid he had been drinking. Perhaps it was almost choking, but it suddenly occurred to Howard that Bucky really had known Steve for a very long time. “You’ve known him that long?” Possibly not the quickest leap to a solution Howard had ever made, but Bucky smiled somewhat sadly.
“I’d say I’ve known him since we were both in short trousers,” Bucky laughed but it sounded hollow, “but that was last year for him so doesn’t make my point.” Howard didn’t laugh at the joke but Bucky carried on anyway, his voice softened as he did.
“He’s like my little brother.” It was a simple explanation but it’s one that made Howard oddly jealous.
“Little?” He threw the little dig out to the air because it seemed appropriate, and from what he had seen, that was what men did with each other when they were friends?
“He’s always going to be the skinny kid from Brooklyn to me,” Bucky shrugged, but the frown on his face said more than his words. “Which is just as well ‘cos I’m not sure I’d do too well if I was on his bad side.” His companion meant it as a joke, since Howard had yet to see anyone make it onto Steve’s bad side, but even in his intoxicated state he can tell that Bucky was not all that comfortable with his friend at the moment. Which Howard could not understand, since Steve was the kind of man who seemed to like everyone despite what they said about him... everyone apart from Howard? The revelation dawned like the morning sun, and Howard swallowed heavily.
“What, like me?” His tone changed and suddenly he felt oddly down. The conversation had only made him remember exactly what he had come there to forget.
“You kidding?” Bucky almost jumped out of his chair at Stark’s revelation, knocking the table as he moved and some of the liquid in his glass spilt on the wooden table between them. “He’s always ranting about how smart you are.” He meant it as a comfort but Howard failed to see it as such.
“Too smart. I get myself in trouble.” He paused for a long moment and wondered, for the first time, why he had not thought to tell Bucky about Steve in the first place. He had failed to realise they were so close, but that was stupid of him because Steve had jumped out of a plane into a warzone to save Bucky and just because he hadn’t seen them together all that much didn’t mean they weren’t the best of friends.
There was a long, but comfortable, silence and Howard didn’t know whether he wanted to continue the line of conversation that the discussion was on. He tried to buy himself some more time by taking a long drink out of his glass, and ultimately ended up staring at the bottom before he poured himself another. He ran his finger around the lip of the glass before downing that drink too. “Can I tell you something?” Bucky had been watching him intently, waiting, and nodded slowly, taking a drink as he did so.
“Looks like you’re going to tell me anyway.” He said flatly, and Howard couldn’t deny he was right.
“If I were to say, uh, well...” he stopped, trying to find the right words. “Steve. If I was to say that I was worried about him what you would say?” Howard stared at his companion for a long moment waiting for the calculated response.
“I’d say you might want to think about getting glasses,” initially Bucky laughed, but when he looked up at his new friend he had realised that it was no joke. “What do you know that you’re not telling me?” Howard poured them both another drink before he replied.
“Earlier,” he had said carefully, “I saw him... and he... he...” he took a desperate drink from his well-used glass. “He had this knife and...” unable to find the words to explain he gestured slashes across his thigh. “And I noticed a while back that there were some... scars... but he doesn’t...” he fumbled for the words. “I mean, he doesn’t exactly work the same way as you or me, so it was hard to know what was happening and...” it was by far the least coherent explanation the mechanic had ever given, and apparently Bucky thought so too because he interrupted him before he could finish it.
“Sorry, work the same?” Bucky seemed genuinely confused.
“I thought you’d know,” Howard was sure he was slurring by this point which might have been partly to blame for the blank look he received from Bucky. “Something to do with his metabolism,” he waved his hand, “I can’t pretend to be a Doctor. He heals faster than you or me - means you might not pick up on it.” He added at the end, noticing the pained expression forming across Bucky’s features. From that look he assumed that all of this was coming as news to the Sergeant, which was rather surprising.
“I should have,” Howard wondered when Bucky became the one that was blaming himself for Steve’s problems because he was fairly sure two minutes before it was him feeling like that. Nevertheless, he placed what he hoped was a reassuring hand on his shoulder, which only managed to elicit a bemused look from Bucky so he retracted his hand. One day he would get used to the correct etiquette of a drinking buddy, but today was not that day.
“Back in Brooklyn, the first time we met, I pulled a couple of bigger guys off him...” Howard failed to see the importance but Bucky continued. “And that happened like, at least, once a month from then on in and he just... he just never learned. He’d just let them knock seven barrels o’ shit out of him- well not so much let , but they did anyway. And I’ve never heard him complain about it once, guess he kind of went looking for it.” He took a mouthful of his drink to steady his nerves. “I always thought it was something he’d grow out of... not grow into.” He admitted, sadly.
“The guy has issues,” Howard said by way of conciliation and also took another drink but rather felt it was an over-simplification.
“You wanna be the one to tell him that?” Bucky mirrored his actions and also took a drink, neither one of them liking the conversation. He sounded somewhat angry.
“Not really,” Howard confirmed.
“Can’t help him if he doesn’t want to help himself.” There was a resigned tone to Bucky’s voice and it only convinced Howard that maybe they have had too much to drink. There was clearly something going on between the two men that he was not aware of.
“Won’t hurt to try,” he shrugged, feeling suddenly down.
“You know I’ll always try when it comes to Steve,” that was enough to satisfy Howard but Bucky continued, unable to stop himself now that he had started. “But he’s so damn pig-headed - I doubt I’ll be of much help - I mean what do you say to him? I don’t know what I’m supposed to say?” He shrugged, but Howard thought he could see the weight of the world on the younger man’s shoulders. “He’s some big star now, got everything he wanted, ain’t got no reason to hate on himself. Hell, he even got the girl, and he’s still not happy.” Bucky’s tone was odd, because rather than sounding angry or harsh, the young sergeant sounded more tired and worn out, and Howard sensed that maybe he was also in the public house to drink away his problems concerning Steve.
“You ever notice that he gets this look in his eyes like he’s not quite himself,” Howard changed the subject, not intentionally, but his mind had been running around over Steve all of a sudden and from the way Bucky looked at him he appreciated that the change of subject probably made no sense. “Not that I’m paying him too much attention,” he excused himself, “but it’s hard not to notice. It’s something our lovely Agent Carter made me aware of... it’s hard not to see when you know it’s there.” Bucky shoot him a doubtful look. “Seriously, look out for it. You won’t be able to avoid seeing it.” He added, wishing that he had not been so loose-lipped.
“I’ll make a note,” he said rather doubtfully, a cloud of misery having formed around him. Howard felt suddenly awkward and they descended into silent drinking until Bucky finally broke it. “Now, how about you get us another bottle in?” Howard did as requested - he figured he owed the guy.
Part Nine