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the first time steve loses him is across enemy lines --- deep through a battlefield, locked inside a facility away from prying eyes and lacking the hope to be saved. james was good as dead, strapped to a cold table hallucinating winter storms and steve's skinny frame bundled up in blankets making his way along side buck to their shared crappy brooklyn apartment. he is chilled to the bone, shivering with blue venom running through his veins. an altered serum, again another attempt at the perfect soldier but hell --- bucky never wanted this. he stood decked in his uniform with false pride, smiling through the terror and his nail biting anxiety. steve never needed to know how much bucky hated his fate. holding a respected position with pride but in the end, realizing that the man he left in new york was not going to be the same one that returned home.
the second time bucky is gone, soon after a heartfelt reunion --- winter snatches him without hesitation, cruel and unrelenting. he falls to what should've been his death, nothing left in it's wake other than the echoes of steve's cry and the fast hum of the train. he's gone, steve is sure of it and it keeps him up at night, allows him to drink the pain away even if it won't budge. he tries several bottles deep to wish it all away but nothing work. steve sits in an empty bar, once filled with life and music alone. it is wrecked and destroyed, just another causality in a violent war.
little did anyone know james laid lifeless in the snow, dead icy eyes watching the snow fall. he doesn't even feel the pain anymore --- frost crawling over his limbs, tingling and numbing the cracked bones. blood stains the snow, the crisp air smells faintly of iron and he can't move. james couldn't convince himself to do so if he wanted too because this, this feels like death. he wouldn't be upset if this was the end but even in what he believes to be his final moments he worries for steve. his slow beating heart clenches at the thought of steve all alone in this world. and once the storm eventually clears, the howling commandos send out a team to retrieve his body.
he's gone again without a trace.
it is decades later and black paint is smudged under the assassins eyes. a gravely voice utters flawless streams of russian and is going after steve with a purpose. an intent to kill, a single mission. punches land but stabs miss, steve is panicked under a composed exterior taking several skin deep slashes with grace. he misses a concrete cracking punch with only seconds to spare, the person in front of him a stranger with some strange kind of familiarity. had they fought before? encountered each other on missions? he cannot put his finger on it. the winter soldier was nothing more than a ghost story to many --- but unfortunately for steve, there was far more significance to the assassin than that.
the mask falls off and in that moment, the blonde swears his entire world has come to a halting stop. he's staring at a phantom of his past, waiting for it to evaporate along with the handfuls of dreams where buck's last cries for help screamed in his memory. in front of him is standing his childhood best friend, the last piece of a forgotten life appearing like a ghost and steve cannot do anything than utter a simple question, " bucky? " a wave of confusion floods over the assassin, faulting on a defensive stance for mere seconds to question in return. " who the hell is bucky? "
it long ago occurred to steve that he was always losing bucky. that was why finding him on the run was so important but hell, he didn't think it would be so hard. it took two years of searching for him to put a single placement on the man he once affectionately called his best friend. he was really nothing more than a ghost now, hiding in the shadows and living life on the run. no amount of forgiveness or recognition of brain washing would erase all the terrible things james had done over the past half century. his hands were stained red and any single piece of his old self felt erased now. and by the end of it, he's buried up demons he never wanted to face again --- remembering maria and howard's last moments with painstaking detail always unable to stop it every time. bucky never meant for this to happen....
when he willingly goes back under the ice, offering steve one last faint smile buck never expects to return. regardless of the advanced tech in wakanda he has no expectations, doesn't have faith that they could finally rid him of the pain of seventy years that simply and maybe a part of him just wants to accept death, be free of all this pain.
and for once in his life, bucky feels at peace. wakanda is quiet and gives him time to breathe for the first time in years. and despite steve's solo reputation of vigilante now, he's come to anticipate visits. over time they became more frequent until it had become obvious the real reason why steve was finding himself into the hidden country more than a couple times a month.
the captain stays late nights, tangled in sheets with his best friend sharing sickly sweet kisses and smiles to melt the other --- his heart given to this one man without any hesitation. there was no questioning that steve loved bucky, far more than just friends and buck, he always felt the same. bucky has loved steve since they were teenagers running around new york and getting into all kinds of trouble. he's loved steve since he was a foot smaller and kept buck up all night worrying when he was sick.
steve has found his home in james buchanan barnes and he'd never trade that for anything.
the last time steve loses bucky is the most painful. he's in complete denial, grabbing at the ground feeling nothing but foreign kind of ash and dirt. where'd he go? no, where'd he go? he cannot contain the panic, breathe catching in his throat --- tears stinging his icy hues. everything for once, it had been perfect. he cannot lose bucky again. it happened all too fast, one second bucky was right there --- he was right there and before his eyes, the man he loved so dearly evaporated into nothing. " where'd he go? " steve chokes out, looking to nat with desperation but no one has an answer.
with a deep sigh the blonde leans down, resting a gloved hand on steve's tense shoulder in a short attempt to offer some comfort, any at all. " james is gone... he's gone. "
he is gone.