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Steve looked back at them, smiling as he picked up Mjolnir. He looked right at Bucky and winked.
“How long is this going to take?” Sam asked. Bruce turned to him.
“For him as long as he needs, for us five seconds. Meet us back here.” But Bucky knew that Steve wouldn’t be meeting them back here. Bruce started the countdown.
“5” Bucky’s eyes widened and Steve met them.
“4” His breathing started to quicken.
“3” Steve reached out to him and mouthed “It’ll be okay”
“2” Bucky closed his eyes
“1” He exhaled and turned around. Bruce counted down again but it was all background noise. He was nearly hyperventilating. Because when Steve didn’t show up on that launchpad he couldn’t know if something went wrong or if something went right.
Bruce and Sam's shouting seemed like miles away when he saw it. There it was. “Sam,” Bucky said. Sam looked over, seeing the figure sitting right by the pond. “Go.” Sam nodded and went to him. This must mean that everything has gone right, right? But they had worked this out before. This was going to happen no matter what. It brought a tear to his eye thinking that Steve could be stuck in the quantum realm right now, lost forever. He wiped his eyes just in time to see it.
Sam took the shield in his hands and looked back at Bucky. He nodded with a smile. This time he held it like it was his own. Because just like he and Steve had discussed, it is. Sam walked back towards Bucky.
“Do you want to see him?”
“I’m good,” he said. Sam frowned. They had already given their word to the family, the funeral ended hours ago. So Sam wordlessly led Bucky to his truck. Turning the key in the ignition, Sam looked back to the case resting in the back seat.
“It feels like it’s still his,” Sam said. He looked at Bucky and he saw the shine in his eyes. So he put his flesh hand atop Sam’s shoulder.
“It’s not. He thought about this. He wants you to have it. You aren’t just a good soldier, Sam. You’re a good man, and that’s what being Cap is all about.” Sam pulled out of the cabin and started driving.
“Do you have anywhere to go?” Sam asked. Bucky nodded.
“Drop me off in the town,” he said. From there he would get a cab, paying with the cash that Steve gave him.
“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” Sam asked again. Bucky nodded. Though he couldn’t be completely sure. Not now. But once he got there he would know. But his heart was still pounding throughout his entire body. They drove nearly in silence. Everything had been said before.
The truck pulled into a small town. It wasn’t tiny, there was a supermarket and many businesses and apartments. Probably where Tony bought his groceries. The town was merely small because of the population lost five years ago.
Sam parked by a restaurant. Bucky pulled out the cheap flip phone he had out of his pocket. He used it to call a cab stating that it would be out of city limits. Sam gave him a questioning look for multiple reasons.
“Where are you going?” Sam asked.
“Retirement.” That was all Bucky said. Sam chuckled. But Bucky wasn’t joking. He hadn’t been able to catch a break since- well he couldn’t really think of when. Even when he was living amongst the children and goats he was still a fugitive. Every day he would always think that it would be his last, that they would find him and drag him out. But that never happened. A black SUV pulled into the parking lot.
“That’s my ride. Thank you for everything Sam,” Bucky said.
“You still have my number, please call. I hope to be seeing you, pal,” he said. Bucky smiled, opening the door and exiting the truck. He shot a smile and waved to Sam before getting into the car.
“Where to?” The driver asked. Bucky reached into his pocket and fished out a piece of paper, handing it over to the man.
“How are you doing pal? You look nervous. Did you lose someone in the blip? I lost my son, but now he’s back. But it’s still weird because he’s still a little kid.” Bucky didn’t know how he wanted to respond. Should he give the man a generic response or could he just stay silent? The thing is, he told the truth. There’s nothing to be afraid of now.
“I was dusted,” Bucky said. The driver looked in the mirror and took a look at Bucky.
“I’m sorry man, that’s pretty rough just coming back suddenly.” Bucky nodded. It was just a day or two ago that he opened his eyes finding himself to be alone in the forests of Wakanda. Wanda was holding her hand out to him, “ It’s time to go ”
“How long until we get there?”
“I’d say about twenty minutes.” Bucky nodded. He leaned his head against the window, a haze coming over him throughout the drive. He was flustered in thought the same way that he was when he saw Steve flash away. It didn’t feel like much time had passed when the driver told him how much the drive cost. He didn’t even listen, just shoved the cash into his hand and thanked him.
Bucky looked upon the white house. A small farmhouse with a large garden in the back. It was just what Bucky told Steve about in Wakanda. He wanted to live in a house like the ones his mother told him about. Big white farmhouses in Indiana where the family would garden their food and cats would roam freely. He never expected to look right at it, especially in New York.
The car pulled away. He took a deep breath and approached the door. It was unlocked so he just went in. He could almost feel his fear palpitating in his body. He walked through the foyer where he saw the kitchen and dining room. This house had to be old, Bucky realized. It had been modernized though based on the new appliances in the kitchen.
His first reaction to the sound was a flinch. A sudden crackling coming from the living room. Orchestra music began to play, in the dull tone that Bucky could recognize. It was a phonograph, Steve had told him that he owned one. He recognized the melody as one of their favorite songs from during the war. He remembered it being played all the time in dance halls and at soldier benefits. Kiss me once, then kiss me twice. Bucky could almost hear the lyrics in his mind.
He went hesitantly to the living room. Each step felt like a hundred. But when he was upon the archway leading to the room he took a breath. He stepped in and there he was.
“Steve,” he whimpered, running into his arms. “I thought you were dead,” he sobbed. Steve put his hand on the back of Bucky’s head and held him close, making up for all the time he missed doing this.
“Everything worked Buck, it all went right,” he whispered, going to kiss the top of Bucky’s brown hair.
“That song?” Bucky stopped for a moment. “We danced to it all those years ago.” Bucky’s head fell onto Steve’s chest. It wasn’t even a conscious move, but Bucky’s arms went around Steve’s waist and Steve’s on Bucky’s shoulder.
“Wait,” Steve said. “I made an extra stop when I was returning the stones.” Bucky gave a look of confusion because he was, well, confused. Steve reached into his pocket and pulled something out that Bucky hadn’t seen for a very long time.
“1942, just after I got the serum. I went to our apartment. You left them behind just in case I needed something to sell. I never did, but they were left behind.” Steve held the tiny silver rings in front of them.
“I remember when I proposed to you,” Bucky said, laughing. “Of course we couldn’t actually get married, but we had a quiet ceremony in our living room. We even wrote vows.” He laughed again.
“And then you came home from work one day with these two rings that barely matched. I still have no idea how you afforded them,” Steve said.
“I’m not saying I got them from a pawn shop,” Bucky whispered.
“I could say how we could actually get married now, but right now I just want to dance with you,” Steve said softly into Bucky’s ear. But first, he placed one of the rings in Bucky’s hands. He knew what to do, going right to slip the ring on Steve’s finger. It was somewhat small but even when Bucky bought it the ring was so large on Steve it would slip off.
Steve took Bucky’s hand in his, the metal one, and slid the ring onto his finger as well. He brought the metallic fingers up to his lips and kissed them. Bucky shuddered at the sensation that was so new in this arm.
Slowly, Bucky wrapped his arm low on Steve’s waist. Almost instinctively their fingers intertwined.
Their first night was spent swaying to the music that filled the home. And if you asked either of them, it felt like it was really 1945 again. Because for the first time since then, they could just be themselves. Alone without the watchful eyes of others. If they closed their eyes all they saw was the moonlight of a French evening, dancing in each other's arms behind their tent.