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Bucky Barnes is drifting away. His fingers are crumbling to ash and his feet are collapsing and the world is going dark. He catches a glimpse of Steve, his normally sunny face twisted into muted horror. He chokes out, “Steve?” before the world dissolves into black.
-
“Get up, Mr. Barnes.” an impatient voice says. Bucky is laying facedown on the ground. He looks up to the owner of the sarcastic voice. A man in a red cape with a goatee is glaring down at him. Bucky nearly jumps to his feet, and gives the stranger a glare of his own.
“What the hell is happening? Where is Steve? I just saw him, he looked, he looked like the-the world was ending.”
“I’m afraid it nearly has. There’s no time to explain. You’ve been gone for a long time, Sergeant Barnes. Just fight as hard as you did years ago.”
“Years? What are you-“
And Bucky is falling onto blackened earth, surrounded by hundreds of people. He spots T’Challa, Shuri, Okoye, and even Sam up ahead, flying past. Then he hears a voice from his comm, one he’d recognize at the end of the world. Maybe this is the end of the world, he thinks, looking at the seemingly endless smoldering heaps of rubble.
“Avengers... Assemble.”
-
Bucky fights with a vengeance against the day’s (day? year?) second type of alien-dogs. He’s seen videos of these before, back when he was just barely himself again, looking for any footage of Steve. Chitauri, they called them. He runs out of ammo twice, and has to reach for more on his tac belt, which is dangerous work when aliens are trying to kill you. He knocks out one with his new arm, then pulls his now-loaded gun up and shoots two others in the head. It’s the bloodiest day he’s seen since maybe the war. Suddenly, he catches a glimpse of Steve, now fighting with a broken shield and Thor’s hammer. I thought only Thor could-oh. Steve hurdles into the air, and the hammer summons a beam of lightning that is almost instantly surging towards Thanos. He smiles softly as he takes out three Chitauri. They fight for what seems like hours, until, inexplicably, the aliens crumble to ash and float away on the wind. Victory. Bucky wonders if it came with a price. It always does. He looks around for Steve, who is not far away, but staring with tears in his eyes at the price of today’s victory.
-
The funeral is quiet. Intimate. Not what he expected, but then again, he didn’t expect to be invited.
-
Bucky’s gotten used to waking up to Steve looking like a different person, but this time, he wonders if not just Steve’s appearance has changed. After the funeral, he pulls Bucky aside. His beard is gone, now. His eyes are different. Instead of hopeful, they are cold. Calculating as they stare at Bucky. Finally, he opens his mouth.
“They’re sending me back to return the stones.”
“I heard. About the whole time travel thing. It’s crazy.” Bucky gives him a half smile. He’s trying. Steve is not.
“I’ve made a decision, Buck.” It’s the first time Steve has used the nickname since Bucky came back. “After I return the stones, I’ve decided I want to settle down. I’m going to- to stay in the past.”
Bucky frowns.
“Why would you-“ He pauses and stops in horror that he doesn’t dare show on his face. Steve’s leaving him and everyone else. For Peggy. His hand twitches involuntarily.
“Well,” Bucky stops, unsure what to say without his face falling. “I’m happy for you, Stevie.” He forces a smile.
“Thank you, Buck. I hope everything works the way it should.” Steve turns and walks away, to where Bruce and Scott and standing in their makeshift lab. Bucky eases himself into a chair. You loved him. And all for nothing. He doesn’t love you back. He never did, a tinny voice in his head says, and the floodgates open. His body is wracked with sobs, his face crumpled into something ugly and wild. He’s shaking, shaking, shaking-
-
Bucky sits up in bed, still shaking. The clock next to his bed reads, 2:48 AM. A hand brushes his clammy one. He turns to see Steve, younger looking and still with a beard.
“What’s the matter, Buck?” He murmurs, his voice thick with sleep, and rolls over to face him.
“The date. What’s the date, Steve?” Bucky says urgently.
“It’s May 26th, 2019. What’s wrong?”
He eases himself back into lying down.
“What- what happened to Thanos?”
“Thor killed him, remember? That awful day when Vision died, and when Tony got stabbed.”
“He just got stabbed?”
“Yes, did anything else happen?” Steve pulls him close, their fingers still intertwined. They are curled up facing each other, foreheads touching.
“I had this dream that I died and came back, and then we fought Thanos again, and Tony died because of it, and then you left me to go live in the past.” Steve is nearly half asleep by now, but still strokes his cheek.
“Must have been a shitty dream.” He murmurs sleepily.