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An Avengers: Endgame Post-Credits Scene
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Bucky sits down on the bench next to Steve, far enough apart that they’re not touching. A cardinal sings in the distance; a few ducks land on the lake in front of them. Steve’s wrinkled face smiles. “Buck,” he says in that way that old men speak, slow and steady. Steve’s what, now: 200 years old?
“Did you have a nice life?” Bucky asks.
He nods. “Yeah.”
“Good.”
“Bucky—”
“You get the house, the picket fence? You join the PTA?” Bucky asks.
“All of that.”
Bucky swallows hard, sniffs. “Good. Just the life that you always wanted.” If it comes out bitter, it’s because he is. He remembers nights staring up at the sky, Steve at his side, talking about the world and the meaning of life. Somehow, the PTA never factored into those conversations. “I can’t imagine you in the fucking PTA, Steve.”
“It was a good life, but I’m here now.”
Bucky looks back out at the lake. “So, did you save me?” he asks. “In this alternative timeline, did you save me?” Steve doesn’t say anything. “Couldn’t find time to, I guess.” He chuckles. “I understand.”
“Things were already—”
“She had kids,” Bucky interrupts.
“We had kids together.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that—”
“Please,” Steve says, voice strained. He’s old, God, he’s old. When Bucky looks up at him, his eyes are hurt. “Don’t think that I haven’t thought through all of this. I’ve had the time. I would have had regrets either way.” They fall quiet. Bucky doesn’t think he can look at Steve without feeling sick. “This isn’t how I wanted our reunion to be, Buck.”
“Me neither. But what I wanted never mattered to you.” He shakes his head. “All those times I was gonna move back to Indiana. Or when Philips offered me an honorable discharge. I didn’t do it. And that was my choice,” he adds, sharp. “Don’t think I don’t know that. But I thought it would be worth it at the end.”
“You have so much,” Steve says.
“All I wanted was you.”
He blinks back tears, exhales hard. “I chose you again and again,” Bucky says, voice cracking. “You made promises.”
“I did,” Steve admits, he finally admits.
“And you didn’t keep them.”
“No.”
"I spent so much time trying to bring myself back to being the guy you thought I was that I didn't realize that you weren't the person who I left anymore."
There’s quiet again, punctuated by the birds and Bucky’s traitorous tears.
“What can I do to make it better?” Steve asks in a quiet voice.
“Nothing. I know I’m your back-up plan.” He laughs, then looks back at Steve. His blue eyes are still bright, stand out against his wrinkled skin. “But you may have lived your life with her,” he says, scooting forward on the bench. He puts a hand on Steve’s thin shoulder. “But you’re gonna go to your grave with my name on your lips,” he says, then kisses him, hard, fierce, angry. Steve kisses him back, as well as he can for a man his age.
When it’s done, when he can feel Steve pull away, Bucky runs.
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The Second Post-Credits Scene
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He runs across Stark’s land, runs as fast as he can into the forest, into the darkness, into a place where no one will hear him scream. It’s all wrong, it’s all so fucking wrong. And now he has to live the rest of his life knowing that the person he’s always put first chose him last. Or.
He looks up at the canopy, the blue sky that he can see between the leaves.
Or he could die.
It’s with that thought on his mind that a portal opens.
Steve Rogers stumbles out, eyes wide. He takes a second to take Bucky in, then he grins. “Buck,” he says, rushing over to him and enveloping him in a tight hug.
“Steve?” Bucky asks, his whole body shaking.
“I thought I wouldn’t see you again. I…” He pulls back for a moment; Bucky can see lines on his face that weren’t there ten minutes ago when he first went back. “I got lost, trapped. I was in there for three years,” he says. “I was in the seventies, with Pegs and Howard. They helped me get back.”
“You didn’t stay?” Bucky asks, feeling weak in the knees.
Steve frowns. “No,” he says. “What?”
“You didn’t stay with Peggy.”
Steve snorts. “Bucky, she has a husband, kids. And besides, I couldn’t leave you here.” He presses in close. “It’s not the end of the line,” he adds before kissing Bucky. Still shaken, still confused, Bucky feels like he can do nothing but kiss him back. This feels right. This is Steve.
But then he pulls back. “So if this is you,” he says. Steve nods, confused. Bucky turns back in the direction of the lake. “Then who the fuck is that?”
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Old Steve Rogers smiles out the lake, something about it looking fierce.
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Fin