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Bucky stumbled, and there was a splash at his feet. He saw nothing; it’s dark, the complete absence of light. He felt nothing, not the water at his feet or the heat of the Wakandan afternoon.
But Steve’s name was still on his lips.
“Steve?” he asked again.
He heard the desperation in his tone and pinched his lips shut. He was not afraid of the dark, even if he suspected that the pressure building in his chest was fear.
He took a step, and there was a splash. Bucky wondered what else might be lurking in the dark, what else might be in this space with him. Could anyone else hear him?
Was he dead? There hadn’t been any pain. With what Thanos had done, did that mean Bucky was trapped somewhere?
The river was cold at his feet. Bucky could feel it now - icy tendrils leeching up his legs. The water was at ankle level, and his feet felt frozen. He staggered a few steps to the side, dragged by the current.
My child
There was nothing, then there was a shape, and then a person.
Bucky stepped back in horror. He knew this person. He was dead, and he was in hell where he would finally receive the penance of his sins.
Maria Stark appeared before him, her neck still bruised from his hand.
“My child,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. The words disappeared into the darkness, like the nothing they were. “I’m sorry.” He could never say it enough.
Maria reached out. Bucky stayed still, resolved to let her do whatever she wanted to him.
She cupped his face. Her hands were cold, and Bucky had to repress a shiver. Her eyes were faded, the blue washed out to be nearly white. Still, she looked at him.
“My child,” she said. “Save him. Please.”
Bucky stuttered. “I -”
Maria’s hands went from cold to icy. Bucky tried to pull back, but her grip was too strong. He hadn’t felt much before, but now Bucky felt like he was freezing. The river was warm, and he wanted it to carry him away.
“James Buchanan Barnes. You will stay here with me, for the moment.”
The words came from Maria’s mouth, but it was a different voice that spoke. This voice was deeper, and it rang through the empty space and filled it with noise. The words felt etched into Bucky’s soul.
Maria’s eyes were black, a cavernous black that Bucky felt would swallow him whole.
Her hands left his face, and Bucky shivered.
“What the hell,” he whispered.
“My true form is not for your eyes,” Maria said, only Bucky suspected this was not Maria. Or at least, no longer the same Maria. “And what mother would refuse a chance to save their child?”
Bucky gulped. “Tony Stark.”
Maria smiled. The flash of teeth had Bucky’s heart rate speed up. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what possessed the body of Maria Stark.
“Death, my child. As near as you could understand,” she said. “You are dead, and so now your thoughts are mine as well.”
Bucky was not as surprised as he thought he should be. What the hell was his life, anyway? “If I’m dead, how am I supposed to save Tony Stark?”
“You will return to the land of the living, though not through my power.” She cocked her head, as if listening.
Bucky heard nothing.
She turned back to Bucky and smiled, which sent shivers down his spine. His thighs were cold, his knees icy. He barely stayed upright.
“I believe Bruce Banner is the one who will bring you back.”
“The Hulk?” Bucky asked, even though he already knew the answer. He wanted to know how, he wanted to know when , he certainly wanted to know why but -
“My child,” she said.
And why did Death keep calling him her child? Were his hands dripping in that much blood?
Death shook her head. “My child, I wanted to offer you a gift.” She cupped his face again, and Bucky’s skin went cold. The water was so warm compared to him now. “I have met you too many times during your life.” She sounded sad. “I should have taken you, but you were needed and so I let you remain. And now, because you once more are within my grasp, I offer you a gift upon you leaving again.”
She smiled, and it still sent shivers down Bucky’s spine.
“Several gifts, actually, because I am generous. First, forgiveness, from the one who haunts you the most.”
The hands on Bucky’s cheeks warmed. Her eyes went from black to near-white, and it was Maria Stark’s voice that exited her mouth.
“Save my son,” she pleaded.
Bucky didn’t know how he was going to do that, but he nodded. “I will. I’ll do my best. I - I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Maria’s face relaxed. She smiled, and this one was human. “Tell him I love him. I know, I know it wasn’t you… Save my son. Tell him I love him. Save my son.”
Between one blink and the next, Maria was replaced by Death. Bucky stumbled back from the icy hands, only his feet no longer worked. He fell back into the river which suddenly surged above his head. It was warm, and it would carry him, and Bucky wanted to relax -
He was caught, a hand on his shoulder that pulled him out of the current and back to standing.
“Not just yet,” Death said. “Soon enough you will be able to rest. But I have more gifts, and the power to give them.”
Before, he couldn’t feel anything other than cold. Now he was cold and wet .
“Why me?” Bucky asked, voice hoarse.
“Because you are connected to me, through your own near-death experiences and well as the many deaths as a direct result of your actions.”
The voice was frigid, and the words thundered through him. He was forgiven, and yet not. He would never be able to wipe the slate clean.
“Would you like a count of how many have died by your hand, James Buchanan Barnes?”
Death’s black eyes were huge, enveloping. Bucky couldn’t look away.
“I offer you forgiveness as a kindness and you want to know why ? Did I not explain enough already? Why is because the infinity stones should never have been left in the universe. I knew, but no one listened. And with all this death at my feet, I choose mercy. I choose to bar those with my favor from my shores. I have chosen you, and you will choose another. Call it - balance.”
Bucky took a deep breath. It changed nothing - he was still dead - but the act helped clear his head.
“Tony,” Bucky answered quietly.
“Give him his mother’s love, which did not wane during death.” She leaned towards Bucky. She grabbed his chin and tilted it down, then down further. Maria Stark had been short. “And tell him -” Death hesitated. Bucky heard the hitch in her breath. “Tell him he was never my merchant.”
She kissed his forehead. Instead of the icy lips that Bucky was expecting, the touch was hot. Bucky’s skin burned where she’d been, and it drilled into his head. The heat worked down, flushing his cheeks and inflaming his throat. His chest and then stomach boiled with fire, and it continued down until Bucky didn’t feel a chill anywhere.
“Goodbye for now, James Buchanan Barnes.”
Death pushed Bucky, and he fell back into the river. The water surged and carried him, and Bucky relaxed into the current.
He closed his eyes.
Bucky opened his eyes and saw Wakanda. He spun around. Steve was gone. Sam came stumbling out of the forest, and a few of the Dora followed.
“What the hell?” Bucky whispered to himself, before he remembered.
Save my son. Tell him I love him.
Bucky licked his lips. He didn’t feel any different, not anymore. He rubbed his forehead. He couldn’t believe he had the imagination to hallucinate something like that, it had to have been real. He lifted his head and scanned the horizon. He had to get back to Birnin Zana, had to see how he could fly from Wakanda to wherever Tony Stark was.
“Bucky! Bucky what the hell happened? Where’s Steve?” Sam yelled as he approached.
A circle of sparks jumped between them, and they sprang back from it.
“I don’t have time to explain,” a man said as he stepped out. He wore blue robes and a red cape, and a picture that was something else - certainly not the Wakandan landscape - was behind him in the circle.
Bucky sighed. As least he wouldn’t need to find a ride.
“What the hell!” Sam yelped.
“Thanos’ army is decimating your friends right now . Get your weapons and get through this portal, otherwise you’ll never make it to New York in time.”
“Uh, our guns are… gone?” Sam offered.
The man waved a hand, and all of a sudden Bucky was holding the same gun that he’d had earlier during the fight.
“Neat,” he said.
The man’s eyes rolled back in his head, his hands blurring in front of him. “Hurry,” he said, his head snapping back down to normal. “Steve Rogers is facing the entire army alone.”
Sam grinned as he held up two pistols and extended his wings. “Any chance you could bring us in on his left?”
The battle wasn’t easy. Bucky had thought if they were all together, all the Avengers with the Dora Milaje and anyone else that would fight for the universe, there was no way that Thanos could win.
Bucky was wrong. They were losing. He shot and he punched and he kicked, killing enemies one after another after another. He knew as he did so that his kill count ticked ever higher, and he hoped Death didn’t hold this against him.
He didn’t want to see her anytime soon, but his body started to tire.
And, worse yet, he couldn’t see Tony. He tried to fight to the front, but there were too many enemies. There were Dora and more robe-wearing people back here, and Bucky was afraid to leave and weaken their defenses.
Then, people started crumbling to dust. Bucky looked at his own hands, his heart beat loud in his ears. He held his breath, but he stayed together. He stayed alive. He looked around, and it seemed only Thanos’ people were crumbling into dust.
A cheer went up, and Bucky smiled. He started to laugh, and he dropped the knife in his hand.
Then he saw the quiet huddle. A still spot while others shouted and hugged and danced for joy.
Bucky raced toward that spot, sprinting as fast as his body could handle. He knew. He knew that’s where Tony was, he knew that’s where he needed to be. The stillness spread, and Bucky pushed himself faster.
Clint dropped to a knee. Avenger after avenger dropped to their knees, and Bucky raced past them. His gaze was on Tony, on Tony’s too-still form that leaned against a rock. Tony’s face was pale, highlighting the burns that scarred the right side of his face.
The gauntlet was on Tony’s right hand.
Bucky’s chest ached. He breathed deeper, more, but air didn’t help. His throat ached.
“Bucky!” Steve shouted as Bucky raced past him.
Bucky skid to his knees beside Tony Stark, who was already dead.
“Okay, okay. Barnes, take a breath and -” Rhodes tugged on Bucky’s shoulder, trying to get him to move back. Bucky shook him off.
Pepper ignored him, her teary eyes on Tony.
“You shouldn’t be here. You, of all people -” Spiderman, a kid , forced out through gritted teeth. Tears ran down his cheeks, and Bucky turned away.
“I can, I can help,” Bucky said, voice thick. He pushed the words out anyway, pleading with Pepper. “I think. When I - she said - I can, I’m supposed to save him. Save her son.”
Pepper stared at him, not comprehending. Bucky didn’t know how to explain. He groped for words, Rhodes still trying to pull him away. Pepper waved Rhodes back. She put a hand on his shoulder, and her voice was kind.
“He’s already dead.” Her voice caught, and Bucky ducked his head. He couldn’t look at her anymore. “He’s gone. It’s - it’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”
Bucky shook his head. This wasn’t about him. This was about Tony. Bucky reached out and grabbed Tony’s left hand.
Tony laid there, lifeless. Bucky closed his eyes and searched for that heat, for whatever gift Death had given him that he was supposed to give to Tony.
“Buck.” Steve’s voice was soft. Steve’s fingers trembled where they landed on Bucky’s shoulder and tried to squeeze. “Come on.”
Bucky refused to leave. Not until he figured out what he was supposed to do. Not until he’d given Tony his life back.
Or was it too late? Was he supposed to give Tony Death’s gift before Tony died, to prevent this from happening? Should he have ignored everything and raced to find Tony instead of fighting in the battle? Was he supposed to have chosen to give Tony life rather than deal out more death to Thanos’ army?
“Your mother says she loves you,” Bucky said, his voice hoarse.
Pepper muffled a sob against her hand.
“Steve,” Rhodes warned, and Steve’s hand clenched tighter on Bucky’s shoulder.
“Buck, come on. Not here.”
“I was supposed to save you,” Bucky whispered. “I was -” Bucky’s voice broke. “I was forgiven, she forgave me, because I was supposed to save you and tell you she loved you, even in death, and -”
“Bucky -”
Bucky leaned forward, pushing against Steve trying to pull him back. Bucky reached until he was able to lay a shaky kiss on Tony’s cold forehead.
Steve let him go, too shocked to hold on.
“You were never her merchant,” Bucky whispered. He leaned back. He was out of ideas.
His lips warmed. Fire raced up his throat instead of down, so fast and hot that Bucky opened his mouth and expected to breathe fire. He darted forward and kissed Tony’s forehead again, hoping the heat would transfer. Hoping he was going this right. Hoping this would work.
Please , he prayed to Death. Please let this work.
Bucky heard a quiet, wheezing breath enter Tony’s lungs.
He sat back, closing his eyes against the tears that gathered there. Steve pulled his shoulder, and Bucky let himself be tugged back and away.
He’d done what he needed to. He’d saved her son.
The next breath was louder. Bucky didn’t open his eyes. He only listened. In, then out. In, then out.
“Pepper,” Tony wheezed.
“Tony?” Pepper’s voice was so fragile. “Tony?!”
“Oh my God,” Rhodes whispered.
Steve fell to the ground behind Bucky. Bucky opened his eyes. He smiled at Steve, though Steve was too busy staring at Tony to see it. Bucky gripped Steve’s shoulder now.
“Mr. Stark? Mr. Stark! Holy shit, Mr. Stark!” Spiderman danced around, vibrating with energy since Tony’s arms were full of Pepper. The kid then threw himself at Bucky, who barely managed to catch him in time. “Thank you, thank you. I’m sorry about what I said, I just - well, thank you! I’m sorry. Mr. Winter, Mr. Barnes, Mr. Soldier, sir. How did you -? Oh, thank you!”
Then the kid was gone, whirling away to hover over Tony.
“How did you do that?” Steve whispered, voice rough. “How did you - ?”
Bucky opened his mouth, but the words to explain didn’t come to him.
Tony looked up, his gaze meeting Bucky’s. Tony’s face was pale, but there was a flush to his cheeks. His eyes were bright and shining, those brown eyes warm again with life. In his arms now were Pepper and Rhodes and the kid, but his eyes were on Bucky.
“It was your mother,” Bucky told Tony. He needed to tell Tony when Tony was alive. “She - she loved you. So much, even in death.” Tony’s eyes shone, and Bucky wanted to look away but couldn’t. “This - me - it was a gift. I don’t -” He couldn’t explain more. “For you.”
Tony nodded. He smiled, though the right side of his face was slow to respond. He looked away, and Bucky felt like he could breathe again.
He slouched back and hoped he didn’t need to do anything else before getting in a nice, long nap.
A cold breeze blew through him.
Do not hurry back to me, child.
Bucky shivered. Steve threw his arm around Bucky’s shoulders, and Bucky leaned into it.
He didn’t intend on hurrying back into Death’s arms anytime soon.