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the line ends here

Summary:

In which Steve actually tells Bucky that it's the end of the line.

The last scene in Endgame, except Bucky remembers his life with Steve before the war.

Notes:

i originally started this crack fic as a joke back in the summer in order to deal with my post endgame anger (yes, a whole year later but i'm never getting over it) and what better way to deal with emotional pain than to joke about the very cause of it? hope you enjoy!! <3

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

It had been about a week since Thanos had been defeated. Bucky was, in all honesty, confused. He’d found himself in Wakanda apparently five years later than when he last remembered, but it didn’t make a difference to him because it wasn’t like he was aware of the passing of time. Not to mention that his life as the Winter Soldier meant that time wasn’t much of a limiting force. Sometimes he'd wake up only to find that years had passed while he was frozen in cryo. And without understanding much, he’d fought a bunch of aliens and whatnot based on what he’d been told. That didn’t worry him much, they’d won. But the one thing that did concern him was Steve. His Steve. He’d seen Steve just days ago. Steve had landed in Wakanda and greeted him with the biggest smile, and a quick hug that Bucky had wished it wasn’t so quick. Everything seemed alright between them, even more than okay if anything. Bucky was starting to remember a lot more from his previous life and he and Steve were getting on really well. Things had changed though. Steve had changed. Guess that’s what time did to a person. Bucky probably should have known better than anyone.

Steve didn’t smile back at him when Bucky did. He didn’t make an effort to talk to him. Bucky hadn’t even seen Steve much, but whenever they were together, the atmosphere just felt different. It was like the air had thickened and there was a magnetizing force that kept Steve away from Bucky. At first he was sure that he was just making it up in his head. He couldn’t trust his own brain most of the time, and so he tried to reassure himself that he was just being paranoid. Maybe he’d interpreted something wrongly. Back in 2016, Steve had told him that he’d be there for him. Steve made sure that Bucky knew that he was okay, that he would be okay, and that he cared about him. It had been hard for Bucky to accept this and try to understand, but something told him that Steve wasn’t lying. Steve had loved him. If soulmates were real, Bucky thought his would be Steve.

But everything that had happened since he saw Steve nine years ago seemed to mean nothing as Bucky over analyzed every single thing that happened between the two. Had he just imagined everything this whole time? What if Steve had always seemed distant but he was only realizing this now? What if his stupid brainwashed mind had made everything up and he was just setting himself up? These were the thoughts that ran through Bucky’s head as he tried to sleep that night. It seemed like an eternity until he finally fell asleep, and when he woke up he had never felt more tired in his life. He belatedly realized what the day was when he was pouring himself a cup of coffee. Steve was going to travel back in time to return the infinity stones.

“Shit,” said Bucky, as he realized that he’d poured hot coffee all over himself.

As he cleaned up and tried to get the stain out of his pant leg, Steve walked into the kitchen.

“Good morning, Buck,” he said. Steve looked wide awake as ever. He was fully dressed, his hair all brushed out with gel.

“Hey Steve,” Bucky said, his tone of voice cautious. The constant feeling of paranoia that washed over him as he thought of every interaction he had with Steve was taking over and he didn’t want to mess up anything.

Steve gave him a small smile and grabbed a piece of toast.

“Steve…” Bucky started. He hesitated, waiting until Steve gave him a sign to continue on.

“Yes?”

“Is everything okay?” Bucky frowned in concern, his worry on complete display as he fiddle with the handle of his mug.

“What do you mean?” Steve’s blue eyes looked up at him in confusion, like he had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

Of course, Bucky thought. Of course he didn’t know. Steve didn’t know because Bucky had just made all of it up in his head.

“It’s just...things are…” Bucky drifted off, not finishing his sentence in the hopes that Steve would maybe catch on and read his mind.

“Actually, I need to talk to you about something,” Steve cut in.

“You do?’ Bucky asked, startled. He was beginning to feel really anxious now, because he had no idea what Steve was going to say to him.

“Let’s head out,” said Steve, nodding towards the back door.

Bucky gulped and followed Steve outside. The morning air was starting to warm up and the sunlight glinted right off the water of the lake. It was an amazing day but Bucky felt anything but. He sat on the edge of the dock, and let his feet dangle off like a little kid. Steve settled in next to him, and took a deep breath.

“Really nice day, huh?” Steve said.

“Yeah,” Bucky replied, his head full of thoughts and anxiousness.

“Reminds me of when we were younger. We’d all drive up to the mountains and play in the water all day long,” said Steve. “I remember we would always try and run away from Becca because you didn’t want her around.”

Bucky didn’t say anything. He didn’t know where Steve was going with this. He remembered moments of these childhood vacations, glimpses of his past. He could see Steve and his smile that could make the entire world brighten up at the sight (something that hadn’t changed even after all this time), and he remembered trying to splash his sister Becca in the lake and climbing up the trees with Steve. It had all been so long ago. A different life. A different Bucky.

“Is there a point to this story?” he finally asked.

Steve gave a small chuckle. “No, I was just reminiscing on the old times. You know where I’ll be going later, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” said Bucky. “How could I not?”

“Well, I’ve got to tell you something,” Steve answered.

Bucky turned his head up and looked right into Steve’s baby blue eyes. Steve was staring back at him with a concerningly apologetic expression that Bucky didn’t know what to think of.

“And before I go on, I need you to know something,” said Steve. “I love you, Buck. And I always will. You’re worth everything. But I’ve decided something. I can’t stay here anymore.”

Bucky frowned at this. “What do you mean here? Where would you go?”

“Buck…” Steve reached over for Bucky’s flesh hand. He squeezed it gently and said, “The line ends here.”

Bucky sat in silence. Steve didn’t have to elaborate. He knew exactly what this meant. This was what he’d been afraid of, that Steve would leave him like this. Steve was just going to walk out of his life like that and even though Bucky had told himself all these years that it was just him being anxious, it was finally coming true. A part of him felt almost...relieved. Like he knew it had been coming and it finally happened. But mostly, he couldn’t believe it. Just because he’d thought about this exact scenario hundreds of times before didn’t mean that it hurt any less. How could he have been so selfish to think that Steve would be by his side forever? How could he have been so foolish to believe that he would mean that much to Steve? He clearly didn’t. Maybe he never had. Bucky was just Steve’s childhood best friend and it was a miracle that they had found each other decades later. But people changed and that meant relationships changed too.

“You’re going back,” Bucky finally concluded. His voice sounded watery and choked up, but he hoped it didn’t sound that way to Steve. “To her.”

Steve nodded and smiled shyly at Bucky but his gaze was far away. He was thinking of a particular long haired brunette that wasn’t him. Bucky could just see Peggy’s eyes in Steve’s blue ones as he dreamily thought of his girl.

Of course, Bucky thought. This was the way it was always meant to be. The world didn’t work that way. He’d been so stupid to ever think that he’d finally had some sort of a chance because they were in the 21st century and times had changed. Of course not. He’d never been meant for that life anyways. Just because it wasn’t dangerous to love a man anymore didn’t mean that it was going to happen for Bucky. People like him didn’t get happy endings in the 1930s and just because the rest of the world had changed without him didn’t mean he had too. Besides, a person like himself didn’t deserve someone like Steve. He’d killed more people than he could remember and hurt even more. It was a no-brainer to anybody that he didn’t deserve anyone, much less someone like Steve. Steve deserved the world and Bucky would do anything to make sure Steve got it. If that meant leaving Bucky, well then, so be it. He deserved to go back and live the life he was always supposed to live with Peggy.

“I’m really happy for you, pal,” Bucky finally said. He couldn’t meet Steve’s eyes so he just looked away into the treetops. “Really. You deserve it.”

“Thank you, Buck. I knew you’d understand,” said Steve. He smiled at Bucky, the kind of gorgeous smile that would also make the brunet go weak at the knees for the longest time. “You’ll always be my best friend. But you’ve got Sam, and you’ve got Bruce, and you’ve got the others. You’ll be okay.”

Bucky gulped and nodded. He didn’t believe Steve one bit. He knew he was going to be far from okay, but he had to put on a smile for the blond. Because that’s what real love was. Love meant letting go sometimes, even if it was at the expense of your own feelings.

He sat there for almost an hour. The sun was starting to become scorching hot and it was a little painful, but he didn’t care. He liked the pain. It was satisfying because it hurt. Like he should be. Like he deserved. Eventually, he seemed to melt into a puddle and drift into the lake. He was gone and he’d never have to deal with this ever again. Or maybe it didn’t. It was just what he wanted. No amount of wishful thinking seemed to make his pain disappear.

It hurt. It hurt to watch Steve leave. It hurt when Steve gave him a smile like it was nothing, like they’d see each other tomorrow and everything was normal.

“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

Those were the same words that Bucky had said to Steve a lifetime ago. Back then he had thought that was the last time he was ever going to see Steve. He’d thought he’d be shipped off to England and never come back home. He’d been so sure that he wasn’t going to survive the war. And he’d been so wrong. He’d survived the war. He’d survived way more than he ever thought he could. Too long, too much for just one person. Now here was Steve, telling Bucky those exact same words. And this time it was Steve who was leaving forever. Frankly, it seemed like this actually was going to be the last time, no matter how much he wished things were different.

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

It hurt to get those words out, but it was like second nature to him. Steve had said the same thing to him once, a sad look on his face. He knew that Steve had thought Bucky might never come back again either, but that punk had always been unrealistically optimistic about a lot of things. Steve gave him a hug like this was just a casual goodbye. It seemed to physically pain Bucky when he had to force himself to hug back as though every muscle in his body didn’t want to because he knew this would be the last time he would pull Steve’s body into an embrace like that.

“Gonna miss you, buddy,” said Bucky. That was quite the underestimation.

He wasn’t just going to miss Steve. He was probably going to grieve over this for a very, very long time. Or as far into the future Bucky could see. It felt surreal. How was it that when he’d see Steve next, he’d already have gone on and lived a whole life without him? It would be a different Steve. A man with different experiences and a different life that Bucky would know nothing about.

“It’s gonna be okay, Buck,” Steve replied with a small assuring nod. Not that there was anything assuring about it. Bucky was well aware he was going to be far from okay.

Steve had never lied to him like this before. Sure, he’d been lied to about a bunch of different things that had probably ended up with Steve getting himself into some idiot plan to eventually get beaten up, but nothing where Bucky was at the other end of it. What had he done in those five years (that he wasn’t even present for) to make Steve change his mind like this? What had changed Steve, the man that Bucky had known for his entire life, perhaps the only consistent thing in his life, to do this? It hurt too much to think. There were too many questions and not enough time.

And when Steve stepped onto the platform, Bucky couldn’t believe it was really happening.

“How long is this gonna take?” Sam asked with concern.

“For him? As long as he needs. For us? Five seconds,” Bruce replied.

Five seconds. Nothing could be more untrue. Bucky tried his best to hold in the tears he suddenly felt in his eyes, daring to roll onto his cheeks. He remembered another time he had cried because of Steve. It had been for completely different reasons, of course. It had been in their apartment many decades ago, small and cold, when the broken heating had refused to work. The December of 1934 pressed many challenges for the two boys, one of which was the harsh and freezing weather. Steve had fallen quite ill that year, much more than any other year, and Bucky had been scared that this was the end.

Bucky had no idea if it was 12 am or 4, but he was tired beyond words. Nothing could make him go to sleep though, not as long as Steve was in this horrible condition. Bucky was sitting against the headboard of the bed, Steve sleeping with his head on his shoulder and propped up so he wouldn’t have as much trouble breathing. The small blond’s body felt hot and frail. He was worried now, genuinely afraid that Steve wouldn’t make it, that he’d used up all of his miracles the previous winters. All he could do was pull the blanket tighter around Steve and pray that someone out there would hear him.

“Please, please don’t go, Steve. Please don’t go, I don’t know what I would do without you,” Bucky whispered. “Just one more time, please?”

Unknowingly, tears started flowing from his eyes. Bucky didn’t even notice, not until Steve’s hand had reached out to rest on his cheek and wipe them away.

“I’m not, Buck. I’m right here,” Steve said, his voice sleepy but still full determination.

“Oh, Steve, you’re awake,” Bucky replied, trying to wipe away any remaining tears. He gave Steve a big smile, his relief that Steve was okay washing over him.

“Don’t cry,” said Steve, reaching over to pull Bucky into a hug.

Don’t cry.

There was no one here to tell him that now. Not even Steve, who was only a few feet away from Bucky. Already, he felt so far away, separated by time.

Steve picked up Mjolnir.

“Ready, Cap?” asked Bruce. “We’ll meet you back here, okay?”

Steve gave him a nod and said, “You bet.” His suit’s helmet came up and in just a few seconds of Bruce’s counting, he was gone.

Bucky kept his eyes trained on the place that Steve had been standing just moments ago, maybe with the small hope that he’d changed his mind in the time that he’d been gone. But to his disappointment, there was nothing.

“And returning in five, four, three, two, one-”

Of course. Steve had always been a man of his word.

Sam and Bruce started to panic, their concern turning into an argument. But Bucky knew. He shook his head sadly and turned away from where the time travel equipment was set up. He looked out into the distance. And there he was, a small figure sitting on the bench out towards the field. At first, it felt like he was looking at a Steve of just 19 years old, young and tiny, waiting for Bucky to come meet him at Coney Island after a long day of working at the docks. It was a moment so clear to him and so sharp in his jumbled up mess of a mind, just one of the very few memories that he was certain were real.

It had been a warm June day in the summer of 1938, and it had been a stressful few months for the two boys, what with all of Bucky’s work, Steve’s art, and trying to make enough money to pay their rent on time. Steve had suggested that maybe they should go to Coney Island. They hadn’t been for at least a few years since Steve’s ma had died and it would be nice to go somewhere because they deserved a break. Bucky had agreed, and he looked forward to it all day at work. Nothing ruined his spirits that day, not even when Al Sullivan “accidentally” tripped over some stacked crates and made Bucky stay half an hour later than usual to clean up the mess and put everything back.

“Wipe that stupid smile off your face. You laughin’ at me?” Al had asked him.

“No, sir,” Bucky had replied, but nothing could make his good mood waver. Just thinking about getting to spend time with Steve was enough to make him feel like he was just about the happiest guy in Brooklyn. Oh, the things the little blond seemed to do to him. Everything had been so much simpler back then. Just him and Steve.

He remembered how he’d practically sprinted to catch the train. He couldn’t bear to wait another minute. When he arrived, the sun had been starting to set on the amusement park. Steve had been sitting on a bench overlooking the crowds of people gathered around the rides. Bucky had never been more excited to call out his name as he ran through all of the people blocking his way. When he did, Steve had turned around with an expression so genuine and so loving. His eyes were a soft blue and his face had lit up so brightly, Bucky had wondered if he was just making this all up. And that was when Bucky knew he was in love. It’d been so clear this whole time but it was here that he realized just how truly in love he was with his best friend. He was fucked, of course. It would take him down a spiral of want and unrequited feelings for the next decade (or century), and it would cause a lot more trouble and pain for him than he could ever think of. But he hadn’t known it then. Because he was young and he was in love and that was all that mattered to him. He knew that from that moment that there would never be anyone else for him but Steve.

And that’s why Bucky could almost see that same Steve of 1938 sitting on that bench. He almost expected him to turn around and to look at him in that same loving way, the same welcoming grin that was home to him. It was the same look that had been the only thing that kept Bucky going during the longest and coldest nights during the war when he thought, “This is it. This is where I die.” But he never did. It had been Steve that he had thought about first thing in the morning and the last thing at night. It was the only thing that had brought him any sort of comfort. The only thing that gave him hope and maybe even a feeling of safety every time he’d considered how quick and fast a death by a bullet to his head could be. It was the only reason he’d even stayed alive for so long, from the hands of Hydra and his own. It was funny how you could owe so much to one person. Especially when they owed you nothing in return.

Bucky stared out into the distance at the slim silhouette of the man sitting on the bench. He felt a small feeling of hope but Steve didn’t turn around to smile at Bucky. He just sat there, his figure hunched over and looking out towards the field. And that was that. It had happened so quickly, in such a short amount of time that Bucky couldn’t comprehend it. It was the end of the line.

Notes:

thank you for reading! i'd really appreciate if you left some feedback in the comments!