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When they first started dating, Clint eventually introducing Bucky to Kate and Lucky, it became a habit for Bucky to take Lucky for his morning walks. Clint had always had trouble sleeping, tossing and turning for hours - something the two of them had in common - and once Clint finally slept, it always felt wrong to Bucky to wake him at the asscrack of dawn, when Lucky would first start whining at the door.
And if he was being honest, Bucky enjoyed the walks in the morning. It was quiet, Lucky was endlessly thankful for the time spent outside even if it was just around the block, or until he found his favourite tree to do his business. If Bucky got back to the smell of coffee and the rumpled look of his boyfriend in sweatpants and one of his old t shirts, a sleepy smile on his lips, then it was just an added bonus to this small ritual that was just his and Lucky’s.
The mutt had been old when they started dating, but still doing great. He loved to play fetch in the park, getting distracted by squirrels, pidgins or other dogs, and Bucky had to argue with Clint who’d get either the ball or the dog, this time. Between the two of them they hardly needed Kate to watch him and fuck if Bucky didn’t grow attached to the dumb mutt, their morning ritual, and the hours spent in the park.
However, over the months their walks slowly got shorter and shorter, the trips to the park consisted more and more of just lying in the grass cuddling, and the trips to the vet became more frequent. They had talked about it, Clint and him, about the what ifs, about how far they would go, about the point when it would be too much pain for Lucky, when it would be better to just let him go. Fortunately they found meds that helped, their walks got longer again, even though just marginally, and their talks went to the back of both Clint and Bucky’s minds.
Life went on, missions came and went and it always felt good to come home to their dog, barking and wagging his tail, almost knocking them over with how happy he was that they were finally back.
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It started as just another morning. Clint was away on a mission with Natasha, wouldn’t be back for another three or four days and Bucky was just a sucker for the mutt’s sad puppy eye. He probably would never really admit to it, but he missed Clint’s warm body in bed, missed the feeling of someone beside him, so of course Lucky was allowed to sleep in bed with him while Clint was gone. He might be the Winter Soldier, but nobody could resist that look of utter adoration when Bucky would pick up the mutt and dump him on the bed, letting him find a comfortable position before giving him all the belly scratches until they fell asleep.
Bucky woke up to quiet whines somewhere close to his ear and it took him barely a second to know that those weren’t Lucky’s normal, everyday “I need to go outside” whines.
He didn’t really think, just grabbed his wallet and keys, gingerly lifting the dog up into his arms to carry him down the many flights of stairs, and when he thought back, he couldn’t quite remember how he got to the vet as fast as he did.
“Please.. he can’t.. I’m not.. please fix my dog,” Bucky muttered, voice hoarse, but he knew that this was it. Sure, there had been signs, namely the limping, but they had hoped that he would pull through, that the meds would help and not cause him even more pain in the end.
“My partner...he’s...it’s his dog but he’s not...I can’t reach him...but I can’t...I can see that he’s in pain but...he needs to be here for this. I can’t do this on my own,” Bucky whispered, forcing the words out through the lump in his throat.
The vet had been nice with understanding, gentle eyes and even gentler words, discussing their options. Regardless, deep down, Bucky already knew the second he had looked at Lucky that morning.
He hated it, hated every second of it without Clint or even Kate there. It felt like a betrayal that they wouldn’t get the chance to say goodbye properly, that they wouldn’t be there for Lucky in his final hour.
Bucky had been sitting with Lucky in his lap for a while, face buried in the soft fur, whispering encouraging words, telling him what a good boy he was, how brave and sweet he was, how bad Clint would feel for not being there and Jesus Christ wasn’t that a punch in the gut how Lucky’s head had lifted at his owner’s name. “I’m so sorry, Luck...it’s gonna be okay. I promise. Everything’s going to be okay,” he whispered, gently scratching at the good spot behind Lucky’s ears while he waited for the vet to do her thing. He made sure Lucky was distracted while the vet shaved the spot on his paw, pressing his forehead against Lucky’s during the injection. After that, they were left alone.
Bucky knew the exact moment Lucky stopped breathing, knew the second his heart stopped beating and it hurt so much more than he was prepared for. He kept petting Lucky’s fur, gently running his fingers through the long strands until the vet came back, a sad look in her eyes, holding out a box of tissues.
“I’m gonna give you another minute, okay? I’ll be right outside if you need anything. Take all the time you need,” she said with a small smile and squeezed his shoulder before she left again.
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Bucky was staring at his phone for what felt like hours. He knew he had to tell Clint, but he didn’t know how. It felt wrong to do it over the phone or even over text, but he couldn’t just… not tell him until he got back. He was pacing the living room, his eyes roaming over all the dog toys and treats, over Lucky’s favourite blanket and the abandoned dog bed.
He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, angrily wiping his eyes before finally dialing Clint’s number. A tiny part inside of him wished that Clint wouldn’t pick up, that he didn’t have to tell him right now but the ringing stopped and Clint’s cheery voice greeted him.
“Hey, sweetheart! This is a nice surprise. Everything okay?”
Bucky sucked in a deep breath, the lump in his throat almost choking him. “Clint..” he forced out, followed by a gut-wrenching sob.
“Buck...shit…hey...hey...what’s wrong?” Clint asked, voice soft, concern clearly audible. “It’s okay…I’m here, baby. Take a deep breath. Yeah... just like that. In and out. Talk to me, B.”
“Clint…it’s…I had...I had to…Lucky’s…he’s gone Clint. When I woke up this morning he was…I had to...I’m sorry, Clint. I’m so sorry! I couldn’t…he was in so much pain and, and… I’m so sorry, Clint. Please. I…I need you. Please…can you…can you come home?” Bucky whispered, barely able to get words out at all; he felt so guilty.
Clint’s eyes filled with tears before he could get himself under control, fingers tightening around his phone. There was so much he wanted to say - but he was feeling better; why didn’t you wait for me? - but he knew, of course he knew, that Bucky would have if it had been a possibility. “Bucky, baby. It’s okay…it’s okay. Hey, listen to me. I…I’ll get someone to cover for me. And I’ll come home, okay? Just…there’s something you gotta do for me, okay? Get yourself a big glass of water and drink that, okay? And then…then you grab that fuzzy blanket you stole from Tony and lie down, alright? And I’ll be home in no time, okay? Everything’s going to be okay. I’m almost on my way already.” Clint’s voice shook with emotion. “I’ll be home soon, okay? It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”
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On the way back home Clint tried to steel himself, tried to get himself ready for the fact that this time Lucky wouldn’t be there to greet him, that he wasn’t going to see him again, but it still hit him like a sack of bricks the second he opened the door to eerie quiet.
“Honey, I’m home,” he shouted while unlacing his boots and dropping his gear at the door. Clint walked straight to the bedroom, a sad smile forming on his lips when he found Bucky curled up in bed with the fuzzy, purple blanket. He crawled into the bed and lay down behind Bucky, pulling him close and running his fingers down his arm.
“Hey, baby…” Clint murmured and pressed a kiss against the nape of his neck. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, for you. I…fuck. You were so brave…all on your own. Thank you for having been there for him. Couldn’t think of anyone else,” he whispered, eyes closed against the tears, and let out a shaky breath.
“I’m gonna miss him…so much,” Bucky said eventually, and carefully turned in Clint’s arms to face him. They both looked like a mess, eyes rimmed red, noses runny. “I’m sorry,” he started, but Clint shook his head and cupped his cheek, wiping dry a runaway tear.
“No. No need. It’s…I’m…yeah, I’m sad I couldn’t be with him at the end, but…he was just as much yours as he was mine and…and I don’t think I could’ve done it without you. How…aw, fuck…how about we order pizza to honour him, huh?” Clint suggested, and leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Bucky’s lips.