Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bucky didn’t wake up that morning because of a nightmare.

He woke up because of the sunlight that danced against his lids. The golden rays filtered through the gossamer curtains and the warmth was a welcome feeling upon Bucky's skin. A change from all those nights he’d awoken in a cold sweat during the dead of night. With screams in his skull and a hollowness in his heart. He was alone in the room – a usual occurrence - but this time felt different. Bucky knew he was safe. Like a piece he had been missing for so long had finally slotted into place again.

Slowly, Bucky sat up and glanced around the room. He was in a king’s sized bed - not his cold apartment floor. There was a small television set in the far corner with a bowl tipped to one side in front of it. Placed upon the dresser were two empty champagne glasses. Clothes were strewn across the floor and just like that, Bucky remembered how the evening prior had went. The warmth upon Bucky’s skin spread into his heart. And promptly across his cheeks. He reached for the empty spot beside him. The covers had been carefully folded on one side so as not to disturb him. The fabric was soft beneath Bucky's fingers. It all felt real.

Good, Bucky thought. I'm definitely not dreaming.

The scent of maple syrup and pancakes suddenly wafted into the room through the open door and Bucky didn’t need any more of an incentive than that to get up. He kicked off the covers and looked for his discarded trousers. He pulled on a shirt and as he did so, he caught himself in the mirror beside the wardrobe. He almost didn’t recognise himself. The smile on his face took him aback for a moment. It was like a stranger stared back. No. He did recognise this side of himself, it had just been many years since he’d last seen him. It was certainly a look he could get used to. Running his fingers through his short hair, Bucky quickly flattened it so that it wasn’t sticking up at all angles. He picked up the discarded champagne glasses and left the bedroom. Yawning, Bucky padded across the hallway and towards the stairs. Photo frames lined the brightly coloured walls as well as plant pots in all different shapes, sizes and shades of verdant green. The carpet was plush against Bucky's bare feet and the banister was solid beneath his grip. Yet more comforting signs that this wasn't all a dream. Bucky knew it couldn't be. He could never imagine a scene so colourful and vibrant. 

Following the scent of caffeine and sugar, Bucky headed across the living room and towards the kitchen. He could hear a faint humming on the other side of the door – entirely off key and out of tune. But it was the most perfect sound in the world to Bucky. He reached forward and gently pushed open the door. There was that sunlight again. It shone through the kitchen window and cast an ethereal glow over Steve who was singing along to the radio on the counter.

He was truly sunlight incarnate. Bucky stood in the doorway for a minute – basking in the beauty of the scene before him. He still wasn’t entirely convinced that he wasn’t going to wake up at any given moment. If he was then this was an image he wanted burned into his memory. Just like the way he saw their trips to Coney Island. Steve flipped the pancake before he turned to face him.

“Morning, Buck,” he said, and with those two words Bucky felt his entire world shift into place.

“So...I, uh don’t know how these are going to taste, but I know you like your coffee black so that part was easy.” Steve smiled at him and it was all dimples and radiance that Bucky realised he had yet to respond.

“Are you just going to just stand there or...?” asked Steve with a small chuckle.

Bucky pushed off from the wall and crossed the kitchen. He placed the empty glasses by the sink before wrapping his arm around Steve's waist. He gently tucked his chin into his shoulder, his lips ghosting his ear. 

“Mm. Maybe I was just enjoying the view?" Bucky said, his voice vibrating against Steve's skin.

Steve laughed and the sound made Bucky’s heart soar. Steve turned and captured his lips in a slow kiss. And what would you know? Steve tasted like sunshine too. Steve was the first to gently pull away, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“Okay. Now go sit. If you make me burn these, I swear...not when I’m on such a roll here.”

Bucky raised both his hands and took a step back, his eyes twinkling mischievously. He pulled out a chair and sank into it, clasping his flesh hand with his vibranium one across the table. Steve fiddled with the radio to try and find another channel that was playing music rather than chatting uselessly about the weather. He wasn't having much luck as he flicked through the stations.

Bucky glanced out the window as he did. At that beautiful, blue sky that seemed to stretch on endlessly. The clouds that floated past calmed Bucky's soul. He started to make some plans for the day ahead. They could take a leisurely stroll together into town, maybe catch a movie or there was always -

Bucky was caught up in his thoughts that he almost missed the Shimmer.

At least that’s what Bucky had come to call the red flash that occasionally flickered across the sky. It lurked behind those candyfloss clouds. A scarlet glitch. The idyllic feeling in Bucky’s chest faltered for a moment.

“Hey Buck? You still with me?”

Bucky blinked and turned to Steve who was holding out a plate for him. A golden pancake sat in the centre with a smiley face etched onto it with berries for eyes and jam for a mouth. It was so endearingly Steve that it managed to win a small smile from Bucky.

“You’re so dorky you know that, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve pushed the plate towards him before he turned to fetch the steaming coffee. “Just eat your pancake, Punk.”

Bucky took a bite of the sugary goodness. It tasted like heaven but the lump that had appeared in his throat was difficult to ignore. Bucky reached for the mug that Steve held out to him but as he did so, he caught that flicker in the sky once more. Bucky paused. When he gently took the mug from Steve his expression was forlorn.

Opening the morning paper, Steve took a long sip of coffee. He was lightly chewing on his bottom lip as he pondered the crossword puzzle in the corner. It was this morning's adversary for him. The radio continued to play its soft music in the background. Bucky closed his eyes before opening them again. He willed himself to live in the moment. To relish in the crinkle of the paper across from him, the bitter coffee on his lips, the love of his life sitting across from him. Nothing else mattered.

"...hm I don't think I get this reference," said Steve, an adorable furrow appearing between his brows as he stared down at the puzzle. Bucky turned the paper round so that he could take a look. He was happy to put his thoughts onto something of use. 

"Ah that's a science fiction novel," he said. 

Steve looked at him blankly. 

"Don't tell me you haven't read it?" 

"Well clearly not or I'd have my answer, wouldn't I?" 

Bucky smiled but before he could respond the radio crackled. Bucky froze. Ice flooded his veins.

Steve, however, never flinched. He was still engrossed in the paper as he happily scribbled in the answers. Blissfully unaware. The mysterious, distorted voice filtered through the channel:

"..is doing this to you...? Let us..."

The voice faded. The music returned again. Like nothing happened. Bucky's chair scraped back and he crossed the kitchen to swiftly turn off the radio.

"Thanks Buck," said Steve without looking up. "I wasn't feeling that one either."

Bucky gripped the sides of the kitchen counter. His knuckles were white.Taking a deep breath, he turned around.  

“Steve,” he said quietly. “You know I love you...right?”

Steve raised an eyebrow as he glanced up at him. “Wow, pancakes were just that good huh?” he chuckled but trailed off when Bucky didn’t join him. Steve’s face softened.

“Yeah...yeah of course, Buck.” He stood up and tucked his chair in. Clasping both of his hands around Bucky’s, he gave a light squeeze.

“I love you more than anything.” Steve’s blue eyes were unwavering as he locked gazes with Bucky. “Until the end of the line, Buck. Always. You know that.”

That old line again. Bucky had always wondered what would happen when they reached the end of said line. In the war it made sense but after...after everything Bucky wondered the weight that it carried now. He snuck a glance out the window again.

The sky was blue. The clouds were drifting by once again. This was Bucky's second chance.

Steeling himself, Bucky pulled his gaze away from the phantom flickering up above and back to the man standing before him. Back to his entire world. His home.

“Until the end of the line, Stevie,” Bucky whispered. He pressed a kiss to Steve's knuckles. And he meant every word. Bucky just hoped that the line in question was a very, very long one.

As he glanced up at the sky he willed it to stay blue. 

Chapter Text

“Hey, Buck let’s see a movie tonight.”

Bucky put the last of the cutlery away and closed the drawer with his hip. He turned to see a smiling Steve, whose hands were still submerged in the soapy dish water.

“Sure,” said Bucky, shooting him a sly smile as he folded his arms and leaned back against the counter. “So long as you don’t get into any fights this time round, Punk.”

Steve laughed as he reached for the blue dishtowel adorned with little cartoon kittens. Bucky had liked the design at the markets and Steve naturally had to get it.

“I had them on the ropes," he replied as he dried the last dinner plate.

“Uh huh. Sure you did."

Steve crossed his heart. “Fine. I Steve Rogers do solemnly swear that I will sit through the entire film as long as you’re sitting beside me.”

Bucky smiled before he placed his hands on either side of the counter, hemming Steve in. His breath coasted along his neck.

“Well then, how can I possibly say no to that?”

Steve beamed and Bucky stole that warm smile from his lips in a deep kiss. They stayed like that - wrapped in each other’s embrace, not having to worry about the world outside. Eventually Steve gently pulled away and pressed a kiss to Bucky’s cheek.

“Seven o’clock then. Be ready.” With that Steve left the kitchen, whistling a tune that Bucky didn’t recognise. The sensation of the kiss lingered on his cheek, long after Steve’s departure. Bucky stayed by the sink for a moment, the corner of his mouth curling up into a soft smile. Bucky glanced over at the calendar where the day had been circled with a small heart in black ink. He had forgotten to ask Steve why it was marked. Steve was always making up dates for them to celebrate so who knew what this one meant. It wasn’t his birthday and it certainly wasn’t Steve's birthday which meant it could be anything from the first time Steve was rejected from the war effort to the anniversary of their Coney Island antics. Bucky wracked his brain but came up with nothing. It had to be a Captain America thing.

Bucky was absent mindedly pulling on the dog tags that rarely left his neck. He twirled the cool metal between his fingers. As soon as he caught the flicker of red appearing along the edges, he flinched like they had burned him. Quickly, he tucked the chain back beneath his shirt. Out of sight and out of mind.

Almost.

But not quite.

________

The stars were magical as Steve and Bucky walked along the moonlit street over to the movie theatre. Steve had dressed up for the occasion, donning a tilted cinnamon hat, a crisp white shirt and a dark grey coat. He was cleanly shaven and grinning from ear to ear as he walked with a spring in his step.

“So...” he drawled casting one of his devilishly handsome smiles Bucky’s way. “Do you remember what date it is yet?”

“Movie night?” Bucky said wryly. His hands were wedged into the pockets of his own black double-breasted jacket. It kept off the cool evening air. Steve sighed and linked his arm through his. 

“Yes. But the date date.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “Wait...so this isn’t a date?”

Steve elbowed him in his side. “Enough of your sass, Barnes.”

“You love it.”

Steve tugged on Bucky’s tie, the brunette tripping slightly over the curb as Steve pulled him in close. Beneath the lamppost, a calming glow was cast across half of Steve’s face.

“I do,” said Steve softly. “More than anything.”

Bucky leaned in and their lips met.

🎵 Kiss me once then kiss me twice then kiss me once again 🎵

The streets were quiet and the night was theirs for the taking. Steve sunk further into the kiss and Bucky laced his fingers through Steve’s hair, knocking his hat off in the process. The streets were quiet and the night was theirs for the taking. Bucky was the first to pull away as he bent down and plucked Steve’s hat from the roadside. He dusted it off and held it out towards him. Ever the gentleman. As Bucky let Steve guide him towards the theatre, he glanced up at the red writing against the white backdrop.

Space Detectives...the sequel!

Bucky may have teased Steve for his choice of film but he was excited for this one. Science Fiction meant lots of tech – and this one was set to include a red flying car. Bucky was still waiting on Stark Industries to come through with that one. The pair grabbed a large popcorn each and headed to their seats. The low light of the theatre was a great comfort to Bucky. Nobody could see him.

And he couldn’t see the sky.

Ignorance was bliss. The stickiness of the cinema floor and the taste of the buttery popcorn on his tongue all solidified once again that this was real and when the opening credits rolled, Bucky let himself get lost in the narrative. He wanted to forget about his own for a while. Steve crunched on the popcorn beside him and Bucky basked in the normalcy of it all. He’d always wanted to come to the cinema with Steve back when he'd go alone. Maybe then Bucky could have prevented the inevitable fights before they broke out. Rather than finding Steve battered and bruised in an alleyway afterwards. If he could go back in time would. God he'd do so much differently. Thoughts of time travel had Bucky's stomach turning. As he felt reality sinking in he reached for Steve's hand across the armrest. Immediately, Steve laced his fingers through his. Yeah, Bucky thought. This was what he’d wanted all those years ago. This simple happiness. On screen the space detective had just stepped into his flying car. Am I always destined to be a man out of time?  He and Steve were happy, yes, but they were once again caught in a fragment of another era. 

Bucky banished all thoughts of time travel from his mind. 

The pair waited until after the ending credits before they left the theatre. Just in case. Steve had wrongfully insisted that there was an extra scene that Bucky could not miss. But the screen faded to black and they were left with nothing. Bucky laughed at a very disgruntled Steve who dropped the empty popcorn tub into the nearest bin. They walked arm in arm out into the cool evening air. 

“Well, I liked it,” said Steve unapologetically as Bucky began questioning some of the plot threads.

Bucky shrugged. “I liked the book more.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “God you say I’m the dork?”

Before Bucky could remind Steve of his “language” incidents, they had already turned the corner into the park. Soft music greeted them as a jazz band were playing in the square. Taking Bucky's hand once again, Steve tugged Bucky along the winding pathway before he could protest.

Once upon a time, Bucky had loved to dance. Oh how the tables had turned. How many nights had Bucky tried to coax Steve out dancing all those years ago? Steve had always been so focused and high strung back then, always refusing Bucky’s offer. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes had revelled in that feeling of letting go and losing himself to the music. Bucky realised with a start that he was safe to do so again. His mind was clear, and his heart was full.

Almost, that voice in the back of his head reminded him once again. An ever present entity.

Steve tugged Bucky into a twirl before they clasped their hands together and moved into a steady sway beneath the archway. Now finally, finally Steve was in his arms: all boyish smiles beneath that slanted hat. The singer in the stand had a beautiful, soulful voice:

🎵 It’s been a long, long time. Haven’t felt like this my dear since can’t remember when...🎵

Their foreheads rested against the other as they waltzed beneath the stars. Bucky wanted the moment to last forever. Bucky glanced over at the other groups and couples that had gathered and immediately wished that he hadn't. Bucky knew they weren’t dressed right. The colours were wrong, the style was all wrong for the period. He turned back to Steve, ignoring the world around them. Or he tried to. The song ended and a round of applause erupted throughout the park. One woman over by the entrance was clapping but she was facing the wrong way. Her partner beside her had ceased moving entirely. Another glitch in the system. Bucky’s mouth had formed a grim line. 

“Steve?” Bucky asked him quietly. “Do you think we’ll ever have our time?” His voice wavered ever so slightly.

Steve glanced up at him, his blonde brows knitting together. “Buck, we have all the time in the world. What do you mean?”

Bucky bit his lip.

In Westview perhaps. But...beyond that? Beyond this crowd of dancers and the sky that Bucky tried to ignore and those voices that filtered through radios when he -

A hand on Bucky’s chest pulled him from his turbulent thoughts.

“Wherever you are is my home,” said Steve resolutely, his eyes glinting under the starlight. That made Bucky’s stomach drop to his toes.

Is that why you left Steve? The voices in his head whispered. Stop it. Steve didn’t leave. He’s right here. He's right here. Bucky shoved those persisting thoughts into the deepest, darkest alcove of his mind and locked the door. Steve’s soft voice pulled him back.

“Hey, Buck? You still with me?”

“Yeah. Yeah I’m still here, Stevie.” Bucky cleared his throat.

“Your footwork is all wrong,” he mumbled before looping his hand around Steve’s waist. “You always did have two left feet, Doll.”

He guided Steve back beneath the hanging lights, ignoring Steve’s protests of being: “an excellent dancer thank you very much.”

🎵You know how many dreams I dreamed about you or just how empty they all seemed without you...🎵

“What had you so shaken this morning?” Steve asked gently, not falling for Bucky's sudden change of subject. 

“Nothing." Bucky replied a little too quickly and Steve nodded, unconvinced. A lifetime of knowing him showing up on his face. Bucky cupped Steve’s face; thumb resting on his cheek.

“I’m fine,” Bucky said resolutely. “I’ve never felt so happy. I’m okay. Really.”

Steve’s expression softened.

“Okay...you’d tell me though, right? If something was bothering you?”

Steve – with ever the attentive gaze placed his hand over Bucky’s shirt, his hand brushing over a bump in the fabric. Before Bucky could stop him, Steve had pulled out the dog tags that hung around Bucky’s neck. After closer inspection he realised that they were his own set.

“I thought you’d stopped wearing these?” Steve scrutinised the metal, holding them out of Bucky’s reach.

“I’m right here, Buck. You don’t need this old rusted chain...” Steve trailed off as a strange sensation crept through his fingers and straight to his elbow. Bucky had grown pale, his eyes glued to the tags that flickered a fierce red where Steve held them. Snapping out of his daze, he shoved the dog tags back beneath his shirt. Steve was deathly quiet, his forehead crinkling into a deep frown.

“Steve?” he said quickly. “Steve are you okay?”

He looked down at his hand and Bucky felt a lump lodging itself in his throat. Steve nodded but his grip on Bucky’s shoulders had loosened.

“I’m...I’m good.”

He shot Bucky a reassuring smile seconds before his feet went out from beneath him. Bucky reacted swiftly and managed to catch him before he crackedi his head against the tree trunk.

“Steve! Shit shit!”

Bucky knelt beside him holding his hand tightly and cradling the back of his head. Steve lifted his other hand, holding it out before him. The tips of his splayed fingers were flickering in and out of existence.

“Bucky...what’s going on here?”

“You’re okay I’ve got you,” Bucky said ignoring the tears threatening to fall from his cheeks.

“I’ve got you, Stevie.” Bucky whispered before he gently placed Steve’s arm around his neck and carried him bridal style. So this was how Steve had felt when Bucky had dusted from the snap. Irony was a cruel thing. 

“Hold on.” Bucky hurried up the pathway ignoring the sky and the people that called after them as he ran. “I’m taking us home.”

Bucky fumbled with the keys at their front door as Steve lay on the porch. Bucky’s hand was shaking so much that he couldn’t fit the key in the damn lock. He didn’t even think to use his metal arm. He shouldered open the door and turned back to Steve. Helping him to his feet, he guided Steve to the couch where he immediately collapsed onto the bright cushions. Bucky hurried into the kitchen and started running the sink.

"A glass of water isn't going to help him," Bucky muttered bitterly to himself as he grabbed a glass from the cupboard. That won’t help a ghost.

But this Steve wasn’t a ghost...not really. He was a fragment built from Steve’s memories. Or at least that’s what Wanda had told him. Bucky couldn't quite wrap his head around the bending-reality-to-your-will type deal. He just knew that this was Steve. Or a version of his Steve. The tags were some sort of conduit, Wanda had told Bucky. She’d used big cosmic words that went over Bucky’s head for the most part, but what stuck was simple:

Keep the tags away from Steve. The illusion would remain for longer that way. 

When Bucky returned to the living room with a damp cloth and a glass of water Steve was sitting up again. He had his hands clasped between his legs. He had on that face he always wore before battle. Only there was a sadness in his eyes. His form had finally stopped flickering like a fuzzy TV the way it had in the park.

"Buck...there’s these gaps in my memory...” Steve pressed the backs of his hands to his temple and took several deep breaths. Eventually he removed his hands and his cool blue eyes finally met Bucky’s.

“Where is everyone else, Buck?”

Bucky handed him the water, unable to quite meet his gaze. 

“They’re okay. We’re just... we’re staying here for a bit.” He gently placed the facecloth across Steve's forehead. Steve looked round the room before he glanced down at his hands that were solid in his lap again. He slowly clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. 

“What's really going on here, James?”

Bucky’s grip tightened on his knees in the armchair. His gaze dropped to the floor and he focused on the patterns in the gaudy carpet. He couldn’t lie to Steve. He’d only ever bent the truth slightly.

“Buck would you look at me? Please?" 

And Bucky finally did. Steve was fixing him with that soft expression – the one that had always seen right through him and straight to his soul. 

Bucky swallowed. “I’m...I’m trying to fix things. I’m...trying to get our time back.”

Steve reached for his hand. “You’re not making any sense, Buck-”

Bucky had yanked his hand away, almost knocking the armchair over as he stood up. 

“I let you go and I shouldn’t have!”

Bucky finally burst. His fingers dug into his short dark hair and he blinked back tears.

“I got you back in my life right after I thought I’d lost you forever and what did I do?” Bucky's voice quivered and he turned to face the kitchen. He couldn't take Steve's sad deer eyed look any longer. 

“I just let you walk right back out again," he whispered to the wall. In the corner of his eye, Bucky caught the calendar hanging up on the wall. With a sinking feeling of dread he remembered with sudden clarity what date it was. It was the day that he had decided to tell Steve that he loved him.

And the day that he let his fear consume him instead.

4 months ago.

Tell him.

Tell him how you feel the voices in his mind screamed. And Bucky just stood there. Useless and too scared to utter that trio of words that had burned in his heart since they were young. Steve was telling him what he planned to do with the Infinity Stones but Bucky felt far away from the conversation. Like there was an ocean in his ears separating him from Steve. Rather than where they sat together on a bench beneath an old oak tree.

Tell him!

But Bucky’s mouth had grown dry. He cleared his throat realising that Steve had stopped talking some time ago and was looking at him expectantly for an answer.

Tell him the truth. This is your last chance!

“You’re leaving Sam with the shield?” Bucky said instead, his voice only wobbling slightly. He’d always been good at masking his pain – or he liked to think that he was.

Steve nodded. “I...I’d leave it for you but...”

Bucky flashed a palm. “You don’t have to explain, Steve. Don’t worry. I know. I wouldn't leave it for me either." 

Now tell him not to go! Tell him he’s making a mistake!

"For what it's worth I think you'd make quite the Captain America," said Steve.

"Huh. Would I get that suit?" 

Steve beamed. "Absolutely. I'd order it in black of course."

Bucky’s gaze met Steve’s and he wondered that maybe in another lifetime – in another universe they could finally have their time.

You already ruined his life before. Let him live the life that he always deserved.

“Stay safe, Steve,” Bucky said. “You deserve to be happy.” He felt like he'd swallowed tar. Getting words out was a battle. An expression washed over Steve’s features then that Bucky hadn’t been able to read. As soon as it appeared it was gone again. Steve gave him a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Well, just don’t do anything stupid until I get back," he said placing his hand onto Bucky's shoulder. 

“How can I?" Bucky scoffed. "You’re taking all the stupid with you." His mask slipped. 

“I’m going to miss you, Buddy.”

They hugged. They parted. Bucky was left hanging onto the remnants of Steve's last words. Captain America stepped into the past and left Bucky without a future. So when Wanda offered to keep a piece of Steve alive in Westview how could Bucky possibly say no? Apparently he was incapable of saying no. Bucky had been given a second chance - or rather - the illusion of one. Bucky had always loved Steve, but when the moment came to tell him the truth he couldn’t.

And he’d let Steve go.

Bucky reached for the calendar and pulled it slowly off the hook on the wall. The date stared back at him. Taunting him.

“Did I die?”

Bucky turned to see Steve standing in the kitchen doorway. He had his arms folded and he was staring at Bucky with those blue eyes that held so much wisdom and pain. He seemed so real that it hurt. But this Steve was a memory, Bucky had to remind himself. Almost Steve but not quite. Slowly, Bucky shook his head. He ran his hand across his face before he walked towards him, pressing the calendar into his hands.

“No, no you didn't." Bucky hesitated before he brought the dog tags out again. "But a piece of me did die with you when you left,” he said tightly. "I kept these to remember you." Steve passed his hand over them and once again his hand flickered to that strange phantom form. He gasped before he pulled his hand away. 

“I’m sorry," said Bucky. "I just can’t seem to let you go.”

Steve was staring down at the calendar and then up at Bucky. "I suppose the gaps in my memory make sense now,” he said quietly. 

Guilt wracked Bucky’s entire body. “You’re not in any pain are you?”

“No! Not at all it’s like...” Steve thought of the movie theatre and he gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s like my memories are snapshots of a film. It’s both me…and not me.” He bumped his forehead against Bucky’s. 

“But I can tell you this for certain. I wouldn’t leave you, Buck. Not unless I thought leaving would help you.”

Bucky bit back a bitter laugh.

“Well, it didn’t.”

Steve looked at him curiously. “You didn’t tell me...did you? The other me. The real me.”

Bucky stammered. “How could I? You’d already given up so much for me. You didn’t need my darkness in your life, Steve. Not when you’re this...this ray of sunshine! I'd dragged you down enough. God I even managed to make the world despise Captain America!”

Steve let the calendar fall limply to his side.

“I thought you knew me better than that, Buck,” he said so quietly that Bucky almost didn’t catch it. “You of all people should know that isn’t true.”

Steve reached forward and cupped Bucky’s face.

"You're everything to me, James Buchanan Barnes. Even when I had nothing I had you."

He pressed a kiss to his lips. As he did so he placed his hand over the dog tags on Bucky’s chest. They glowed crimson once again. Steve pulled away as he recognised that red energy.

“Ah Wanda,” Steve said. “Still that scared kid with a big heart.” His expression was plaintive. “When I’m gone tell her I said to look after herself. If you see her.”

The truth was Bucky hadn't. She'd told them to stay at the other end of town. Her decision was twofold: she didn't want Vision seeing him and and wanted Bucky away from danger. Bucky felt the lump in his throat grow bigger as Steve’s fingers were gradually beginning to fade. Memory Steve was like a film projection, after all. He couldn’t keep him trapped like this. He knew he had to let him go – he'd said goodbye once and this - this peace had only been temporary. It wasn’t fair but what part of life was ever fair? Before he could change his mind, Bucky placed the dog tags around Steve’s neck. Bucky felt his heart bleed out onto the brightly coloured kitchen floor. The tags glowed red and Steve’s entire arm began to fade. Still, he smiled at Bucky with one of those achingly beautiful smiles.

“And we will, Buck.”

“We will what?” Bucky whispered.

“Have our time,” Steve said softly. He brushed away a stray tear from Bucky’s cheek with his thumb before he pressed a kiss there.

“It just isn’t right now.”

Steve looked towards the kitchen window where the moonlight streamed in. He reached for Bucky’s hand and together they headed to the garden. The pair sat on the backstep with the stars still twinkling over their heads. Steve could see the truth now - the stars were just a little too perfect – like diamonds cast onto a sheet of black velvet. Steve placed his head on Bucky’s shoulder as they stared up at the sky.

“I’m with you until the end of the line,” Steve said still with his hand firmly clasped with Bucky’s.

“And I’m with you,” Bucky whispered, wishing more than anything that the end didn't have to be so soon. 

“Always,” he managed to choke out as he watched Steve's form fade away. Steve slipped through his fingers as he turned to specks of red and gold dust and swirled into the air. The dust blew across the flowers and into the night.

The dog tags clattered against the step.

Bucky didn't move. Not for a long time. Eventually he steeled himself and slowly picked them up. He took a deep shuddering breath before he entered their house. He walked straight through the living room, past the bright sofas, past the photo frames that lined the walls and all of the plants. He headed to the bedroom where he opened a draw and pulled out a small unassuming red notebook. Then he walked straight out the front door. When Wanda's Westview Walls eventually came down, Bucky wasn’t there for the Hex's aftermath.

He was long gone.

Bucky had been at the ocean far outside the dome; gripping Steve’s dog tags as he stared out at the unrelenting waves. Hot tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he clenched his fist around the cold metal. He wanted to hurl the tags across the water in the hopes that all the pain would go with it. And he almost did too. But how could he let Steve go when he’d called him his home? Bucky shoved them back into the pocket of his coat and turned away from the ocean. He’d move on.

Or he’d try to.

Bucky thought of all the names and faces of everyone that he had hurt or wrongfully assisted as the Winter Soldier. He'd make amends. He wanted to feel whole again. He wanted to feel something again. Bucky scribbled notes into the margins as he walked away from the waves. He kept Steve's dog tags and his old notebook close to his heart. 

In the hopes that some of that sunshine would rub off on him too. 

Chapter Text

Roughly 1 month later…

The nightmares had returned.

Bucky awoke in a cold sweat, his tank top sticking to his clammy skin. The metal tags against his chest were a cool sensation against his furnace skin. Gripping the thin blanket tangled around his legs, he took great gulps of air. On impulse, Bucky reached out for the other side of the bed, forgetting for a moment that he would find only an empty space where he used to be. Instead of Steve’s warmth, Bucky’s hand met the cold floorboards. Right. Even after having only spent such a short time in Westview, Bucky had gotten used to that house – even if its bricks were all built upon lies. Sitting up, Bucky steepled his fingers to the backs of his eyes. He took in his surroundings to ground himself. He was lying on the floor of his apartment. The early morning sun was just peeking through his blinds, and it cast the room in a light blue haze.

“I am no longer the Winter Soldier,” he muttered to himself as he clenched his fists in the sheets.

He knew that Dr Raynor meant well, and the mantra helped somewhat but some days the Winter Soldier seized him and wouldn’t let Bucky surface. The memories dug their talons in deep and wouldn’t let go. Bucky knew that they would never really leave him but they had become slightly easier to deal with. Bucky dragged himself to the bathroom where he splashed cold water onto his face. He gripped the side of the sink and looked into the mirror.

“I am James Bucky Barnes,” he said resolutely.

Once he pulled on a grey t-shirt and trousers Bucky flicked his coffee pot on followed by the television. The voice on the screen immediately got his attention. It was that John Walker again. He seemed to grace the TV 24/7 these days. The star sprangled man dared to stand where Steve had stood. Where Steve should still be standing, Bucky mentally corrected himself.

“…what I was doing would make people feel safe,” Walker replied to the interviewer. “Steve Rogers was the kind of guy who could do that, he gave me hope. Even though I never met him, he feels like a brother-”

Bucky’s jaw shifted. It was funny, really, how his blood boiled at the words while he felt his heart freeze over all at once. It wasn’t as bad when they claimed to know Captain America - the whole world liked to think that they knew the real Captain America. But when they called him Steve Rogers, that made Bucky’s stomach drop to his toes. Was it jealousy? Protectiveness? Whatever it was, something about the way that Walker spoke about Steve made Bucky’s skin crawl. The worse part was that he couldn’t even vent to Steve about any of it. The interview continued on, but Bucky had heard more than enough. He let the screen go black. Bucky's phone buzzed where it lay face down on the kitchen counter. Bucky dropped it into his pocket without checking it. Next, he retrieved his notebook from the counter and tucked it into the inside pocket of his coat. He treated it with far more care. After a second black coffee and half a bowl of cereal, Bucky left his apartment.

He tried to leave the nightmare behind and the Walker interview locked away in his apartment, but it all followed him out the front door and down the street.

~~~

Barely ten minutes into the session, Bucky already found himself zoning out as Dr Raynor drawled on. Her office looked the same as it had done after each of his visits thus far, only today there was an addition of a particularly funky shaped plant pot in the far corner. Bucky had decided to focus his attention on it - anything to distract him from the current conversation. Although conversation perhaps not being the best word as the wall would have made better conversation with Dr Raynor for the lack of response Bucky was giving her. She focused her hawkish gaze intently on him.

“James, I asked you a question. Are you still having nightmares?”

Bucky pulled his eyes away from the plant and met her gaze briefly. “No,” he said, his first real contribution to the conversation. Raynor twirled her pen between her fingers.

“We’ve been doing this long enough that I can tell when you’re lying. Now you seem a little off today did something happen recently?”

“No,” Bucky said once again, his voice low. It was undeniably his favourite word in his arsenal during these sessions.

“Look, you’re a civilian now and with your…history,” she said tactfully. “The government needs to know you’re not gonna…” she trailed off and mimed stabbing the air with her pen. Bucky nodded, his lips a firm line. Her subtlety was truly never lost on him.

“It’s a condition of your pardon.” She glanced down at her notes. “And, of course, there’s the indiscretion in Westview to add to the mix…” she sighed heavily and placed her glasses from her head onto the end of her nose. “I know that you weren’t the perpetrator for that whole Maximoff fiasco but it’s not great your name is even attached to it. Not with your track record, James.”

Bucky felt himself deflate. He’d been so caught up with Westview Steve’s…uh demise? That he hadn’t thought to look for Wanda. And now she was gone too. Bucky knew how she felt. To be without your other half. Although ‘Demise’ didn’t seem to be the right word for Bucky to describe how a projection of the man you cared deeply for disappeared and blew away as red petal like pieces into the sky. How could he explain that one to Dr Raynor. Instead, he steered their sessions strictly to Winter Soldier business. Usually.

“Is there still no word on Wanda?” Bucky asked quietly, which took Raynor back a little. A response other than “no” from Bucky was rare.  

“I’m afraid not. Nobody knows where Maximoff went. Although I’m sure if you hear anything then you’ll co-operate with the proper authorities.”

Bucky nodded. Like hell he would. He’d never turn his back on a friend. Although that line of thinking brought him back to his Steve. The real Steve. The one who’d stepped into the past. After they’d both worked so hard to adjust to the present.

                    Steve                                                    Alone.

                                             Had left him                           

Raynor tapped her pen against the table as Bucky’s thoughts had drifted from the room.

“Now I’ll ask you again,” Raynor continued. “Tell me about your most recent nightmare.”

“I didn’t have a nightmare,” Bucky corrected her quickly. He stared at the plant pot in the far corner of the room again. Dr Raynor gave a resounding sigh and the click of her pen made Bucky sit up.  

“Oh, come on,” Bucky groaned. “You’re going to do the notebook thing? Why? Frankly that’s just passive aggressive.”

“You don’t talk – I write.”

 “Okay, okay.”

She had asked about the dream, but Bucky decided to dodge that entirely.

“I crossed a name of my list of amendments yesterday,” he said instead. “And don’t worry, I used all your three rules. Her name was Senator Atwood. She was a Hydra pawn for years. I helped her get into office when I was the Winter Soldier.”

At the raise of her eyebrow Bucky sighed. “I didn’t hurt anybody. I promise.”

“And what about rule number three? The whole point of making amends is to fulfil rule number three.”

“You know, you’re a cynic, Doc. Of course, I completed rule number three.

I am no longer the Winter Soldier.

I am James Bucky Barnes…

And you’re part of my efforts to make amends.

“So, you did it all right, but it didn’t help with the nightmares.”

“Well, like I said, I didn’t have any.”

That wasn’t true. Last night’s dream had rattled him down to his core. It was Nakajima again. The dream from two nights ago, however, was definitely off the table for discussion. He’d dreamed that one of his – or rather the Winter Soldier’s – victim’s face had swapped out. The man he had killed instead was Steve. He had murdered Captain America and the nightmare had chilled Bucky to his core because he knew that he almost had at one point. He hated the dream because it solidified that Steve really was safer in the past. Bucky hadn’t fought to keep Steve in the present because he knew that. Steve would be happier. That’s what Bucky had convinced himself anyway -

“-Look,” Raynor sliced through Bucky’s thoughts with another interjection.  “one day you’re going to have to open up and understand that some people really do want to help you and that they can be trusted.”

“I trust people,” Bucky refuted.

“Yeah? Give me your phone.” She held her hand out. Bucky sighed heavily before he reached into his pocket to retrieve the inane device that caused him nothing but anxiety.

“You don’t have ten phone numbers on this thing.” The phone dinged in her hand. “Oh, and you’ve been ignoring the texts from Sam. You’ve got to nurture friendships.”

Bucky felt his stomach sink yet again. He certainly hadn’t done that with Wanda. She had been in pain. He knew what it felt like to be branded a monster. They both missed the loves of their lives. He kicked himself for not going against Wanda’s wishes and finding her in the Hex. Maybe he could have helped her? Bucky was beginning to think that his entire life was just one big what if. What if he’d never fallen off that train, what if he’d confessed to Steve, what if he had tried to get through to Wanda instead of falling into his own grief?

What if what if what if…

But Bucky felt like time always pushed against him. He was never where he was supposed to be. As if reading Bucky’s mind, Raynor glanced down at her notes once again. With a resounding thud she placed his phone back on the table.

“James you’re a hundred years old. You have no history, no family…”

A flash of blonde hair and a glowing smile appeared behind Bucky’s lids. He quickly changed the subject once again. Steve was off limits for discussion. He thought of the way Walker had spoke about Steve that morning – like he was an old friend.

“Are you lashing out at me, Doc?” Bucky said, to keep his increasingly racing thoughts at bay. “Because that’s really unprofessional, you know? Ah the note taking. That’s great.” Bucky sighed heavily, leaning back in the chair. “All right, give me a break. I’m trying, okay? This isn’t…this is new for me. I didn’t have a moment to deal with anything, you know? I had a little…calm in Wakanda.”

And Westview he wanted to add. He kept that part out. God had he felt at peace in Westview. But what good was a life based on lies? Steve was gone. He had accepted it – he had to accept it. He had been angry at Walker’s interview but he couldn’t dispel that small voice in the back of his own head that taunted him:

Clearly you didn’t know Steve as well as you though you did. Otherwise he wouldn’t have went back to her. 

 Slowly, Bucky pulled Steve’s notebook from his pocket.

“And other than that, I just went from one fight to another for 90 years,” Bucky said softly.

Raynor noticed the softness that had suddenly overtaken Bucky’s features. She knew there was more to the notebook than he was letting on.

“So, now that you’ve stopped fighting,” she prodded gently. “What do you want?”

Bucky hadn’t looked up from Steve’s notebook. He thought of Steve avidly noting down everything that he had wanted to learn about the modern world within its pages. Doodles, puns. movies and jokes he didn’t get the punchlines for. He’d write them down to google later. And Bucky had turned Captain America’s shopping list of dreams into his own list of redemption. In a way, he was still in conversation with Steve.

The word that passed Bucky’s lips next was the most honest he had ever been with Raynor.

“Peace,” Bucky said quietly as he thought of that fleeting feeling he had in his chest when he had sat at the table with Steve in Westview as he puzzled over a crossword. Bucky’s honesty didn’t have Raynor entirely convinced.

“That is utter bullshit.”

Bucky felt the memory dissipate. “You’re a terrible shrink you know that?”

Raynor had put the pen away and was looking him straight in the eye.

“I was an excellent soldier, so I saw a lot of dead bodies, and I know how that can shut you down. And if you are alone, that is the quietest, most personal hell. And, James, it is very hard to escape.”

Bucky had opened his book and turned to one of the pages in which Steve had began reviewing a film he’d seen in the theatres. Bucky felt another pang of sadness. The movie was bad but Steve was singing each of the actors praises. God Steve had poor taste in art. Bucky hadn’t realised it but the corner of his mouth had curved up into a small smile.

“There’s something more to that book isn’t there?” Raynor said, softly and Bucky finally made eye contact with her. “Was it a gift?”

Bucky was quiet as he stared back down at the front page. He cleared his throat. “It belonged to someone who meant a lot to me.”

There was a silence for a moment, broken only when Bucky’s phone buzzed again on the table. Bucky made no move to answer it. Raynor leaned forward in her chair, but she too ignored the phone and instead focused on Bucky.

“James, I know that you have been through a lot, but you’ve got your mind back, you are being pardoned. I mean, these are good things. You’re free. Don’t allow yourself to be bogged down by the past.”

Bucky brushed his thumb over Steve’s notebook before he slipped it into the inside lining of his coat. He scooped the phone off the table without reading any of the latest messages much to Raynor’s behest.

“Free to do what?” Bucky said as he stood up from the couch. He hadn’t found that answer yet. But really who did. Bucky had fought in the outer edges of space and still he had no answers. Apparently neither did Raynor.

“Whatever brings you peace,” she said.  

Bucky was walking down the street when he caught Yori Nakajima having an altercation with his neighbour once again. Bucky swiftly broke up the scuffle over what-trash-went-where. He placed his hand on the old man’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.

“Yori, you can’t keep fighting with your neighbours,” Bucky said, exasperated. “Come on, why don’t we get some food?”

“No, go away,” Yori snapped before he shuffled away from Bucky.

“But Izzy!” Bucky called after him. “We always go to Izzy on Wednesday, right?”

“I’m not in the mood today,” said Yori and for a moment Bucky understood how Sam and Dr Raynor must feel when speaking with him. A brick wall. But the thing was that Bucky really didn’t want to go back to his apartment just yet. To that dreadful silence and the TV just kept showing that smiling asshole with the shield that Sam had given up. The way the media said Steve’s name like it belonged to them.

“What if I buy?” Bucky suggested quickly which gave Yori pause. The old man couldn’t say no to a deal like that.

~~~

The thunder rumbled outside as Bucky’s phone buzzed on the counter. He kept the screen face down, as per.

“You should answer that,” said Yori which had become another frequent mantra of the older man’s. Bucky shook his head and lifted his beer to his lips.

“I should be doing a lot of things, Yori.”

The phone continued to vibrate but Bucky let it ring out. It was becoming the theme song of his life at this point.

“You guys didn’t order the usual, huh?” said Leah, popping up from behind the bar. “Feeling a liiiiittle adventurous today?” As she moved away to serve another table, Yori turned to Bucky with a wide grin on his face. There was a glint to match in Yori’s eyes as he glanced at Bucky over his drink.

“You should ask her out.”

Bucky made a noncommittal noise. “No. You’ve got to dance at these things. You gotta…”

The idyllic image of fairy lights hanging beneath a calming night sky drifted through Bucky’s mind. Warm hands on his shoulders and around his waist. Dancing in the park with -

“I haven’t danced since 1943,” Bucky said quickly before looking down at his beer. He swirled the bottle and the golden liquid caught the low light of the bar. “Well, technically the 50s but that was a fevered dream.” He necked the rest of it in one and placed it back on the table. Yori was looking at him curiously.

“You are an enigma.”

A beat passed.

“Well, that’s one word for it,” said Bucky quietly, his perpetual guilt pressing down upon his shoulders. To Bucky’s horror, another mischievous smile had broken out across Yori’s lined face. “Well, if you don’t ask then I must do it for you Mr Enigma.” The older man raised his arm to get Leah’s attention. Bucky’s reflexes were quick. He gently guided Yori’s hand back down.

“Please, Yori. I…” Bucky’s face fell, a hint of vulnerability appearing in his eyes. “I’m not ready to move on just yet.”

Yori sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair.

“Ah. You are talking about Captain Prettyboy again.”

Bucky bristled and straightened up on the stool. “Don’t call him that.”

Yori waved him off. “You cannot move on from him and yet you refuse to talk about him.” Yori shook his head and waved his hands at Bucky. “You will have to choose one eventually.”

Choices. Choices. Choices.

All these goddamn choices. Bucky knew he’d made some wrong ones in his life. But how many thousands had been made for him? Raynor and Ayo’s words floated around in his mind:

You’re free.

Bucky looked over at Leah who was smiling as she refilled a patron’s glass. He considered Yori’s proposition for a moment. She was pretty and had a good sense of humour if the laughter that always seemed to surround her was anything to go by. Bucky knew that the old him probably would already made a move. Offered to take her for a walk along the promenade, see a film…but that wasn’t who he was anymore. Besides, he’d only ever given his heart to one person and Bucky was still waiting on getting it back.

He was still very much in love with a ghost. 

Bucky cleared his throat. “I thought you insisted we weren’t going to talk while eating,” said Bucky, hoping that Yori would accept the deflection. Yori shook his head and tapped the side of his glass.

“Drinking does not count.”

After bidding Yori goodnight, Bucky left a small tip on the table and walked out into the beginnings of a storm. The rain continued to pour and showed no signs of letting up. Bucky flicked the collar up on his black coat and wedged his hands further into his pockets. He had to invest in a jacket with a hood one of these days. The lights on the strip illuminated the pavement in neon colours as he walked.

Bucky made it two blocks before he sensed that he was being followed.  

Bucky crossed the empty road. The storm had kept the streets relatively quiet which meant there wouldn’t be any civilian casualties if things got messy. His assailant continued to tail him down the entirety of the street. Bucky just hoped he could restrain them in a peaceful manner, he was not a killer anymore. He had enough red on his ledger. Bucky rounded the corner at the end and pressed his back against the wall. The rain pounded against the roof of the stall above him.  He waited for the perpetrator to follow suit. As soon as their boot appeared around the bend, Bucky was in action. Moving swiftly, he ducked and took a swing at their stomach. They dodged the punch with ease and blocked Bucky’s next two manoeuvrers. The stranger wore a baseball cap and a heavy jacket. The rain had gotten heavier, and Bucky used the familiar terrain to his advantage. Moving into a low kick, Bucky swept their legs out from underneath them. They fell back into the alley, splashing into the running water that had burst from the pipes. As Bucky walked forward the assailant threw their arms out.  

“Bucky! It’s me!”

Bucky froze.

He knew that voice. He knew it with an aching familiarity as the voice that had pulled him from his Hydra’ indoctrination. It was the voice that always inspired him to be a better man. Lighting streaked across the sky and finally he could see his attacker’s face. Their cap had fallen off to reveal a thick beard, wide shoulders, and eyes that held an entire ocean within them. Bucky felt his stomach drop to his toes.

“Steve?”

Bucky stood, his jaw practically on the floor as the rain crashed down around them, forming small rivers along the uneven pavement. Steve was still sitting in the puddle, staring up at Bucky and waiting for his reaction. Bucky staggered back and entered a fighting stance once again.

“You’re not real.” There was a dangerous edge to Bucky’s voice. “You can’t be.”

Slowly, Steve stood up with one arm held out in front of him in what he hoped to be a placating gesture.

“Bucky…I can explain.”

Immediately, Bucky went on the defensive. How could he be so stupid? Letting his guard down so impulsively? This could be a fucking Hydra Agent – or anyone else for that matter. With all the face swapping technology around who could you really trust? What did Sam always say? This could be one of the big three: a Wizard, Alien or Cyborg. An alien that wore Steve’s face seemed far more likely at this point.

“It’s me, Buck,” Steve said quietly. He had both of his hands raised in the air now, his palms splayed out.

“I promise you, Buck.” Slowly, Steve got to his feet. “Ask me something that only I would know.” His voice was so soft that it made Bucky’s heart constrict. Bucky kept his face impassive, or rather, he tried to. Bucky pulled the possible Skrull-Steve beneath the roof of the closed food stall. Bucky pinned him to the wall with his vibranium arm while his other hand reached into coat pocket. He pulled out the notebook and held it up to Steve’s face.

“What is this?” Bucky whispered. His voice was almost pleading. “Tell me what this book is.”

Steve’s gaze flickered to the notebook and Bucky felt his heart thudding in his ribcage. Their faces were only inches apart.

Come on, please. Please.

Bucky tried not to get his hopes up. If something was too good to be true then it usually  wasn’t real, A lifetime of heartbreak had taught Bucky that and he was getting used to it. When the next streak of lightning shot through the sky, Bucky could see how possible Skrull-Steve’s eyes widened.

“It’s my to do list,” Steve said quietly. “It was my way of trying to fit in.” Steve looked right at him, the corner of his mouth curling up. “But you of all people should know I was never really good at that, anyway. Even back in the day.”

Bucky’s grip on his shirt loosened. His mouth had formed a small ‘oh’ shape.

“I can’t believe you kept it,” said Steve.

Bucky released him completely and took a step back.

“Stevie?” he breathed. “It really is you.”

“Yeah,” said Steve awkwardly. He was glad for the rain: it disguised the blush that had coated his cheeks ever since Bucky had shoved him up against that wall. The proximity had almost been too much after such a long time apart.

Steve wondered how he’d ever been so dense. How had it taken him travelling to another timeline to realise what was right in front of him – glaring him right in the face this whole time? Steve realised he had been standing in silence and Bucky was still very much waiting for a response from him. Steve felt himself default into panic mode – the suave Captain America persona slipping away as the boy from Brooklyn resurfaced. The boy that had visited Coney Island with Bucky and developed a crush – a crush that had stayed with him for years. He’d mistaken it for friendship that tingly warmth that Bucky made him feel.

Steve had been an idiot.

“You uh,” Steve awkwardly cleared his throat. “You weren’t answering your phone,” he said simply like that explained his sudden reappearance. As if he hadn’t disappeared to put the infinity stones back and never returned. Like it hadn’t been several months. Bucky was at a loss for words, his brain working double time to process the specimen of a man that now stood before him. A mixture of conflicting emotions swirled through his brain. Maybe it would have been easier after all if he had been a Hydra agent or a green alien. Thinking with your fists was much easier.

The storm grew heavier, the wind was beginning to pick up and Bucky made up his mind. Wedging his hands into his pockets, he gestured behind him waving ahead at the abandoned street.

“We should get inside. Follow me.”

Steve did. Steve would follow Bucky into hell if he asked him to. For the first time he realised how Steve must have felt when he’d seen Bucky without his Winter Soldier’s mask for the first time.

Because Bucky felt like he was walking home with a ghost.

A piece from the past he had told himself that he’d never see again. It took everything Bucky had not reach forward and hold him close.

~~~

Wordlessly, Bucky slid his keys into the lock and opened the door. He wandered inside in a daze leaving it open for Steve to follow behind him. That was if he really wasn’t a ghost. Bucky still wasn’t entirely convinced that his mind hadn’t just conjured all this up. That he’d fallen asleep into his meal at Izzy’s and at any moment now he’d wake up to Yori poking him with a bony finger and laughing at him for being a light weight. As Steve stepped inside he stopped suddenly and Bucky's hackles rose. He watched “Steve” walk backwards and Bucky's suspicions began to creep back. But all Steve did was placed his cap on the wall and take off his boots before he neatly left them on the doormat. It was so endearingly Steve that Bucky was still staring. If there was any doubt left in Bucky’s mind that this wasn’t his Steve, it was gone with that simple action.

Steven Rogers stood in his apartment.

The thunderstorm continued outside and the room flashed whenever lightning decorated the night sky. Steve hung his head, a stray strand of his blonde hair across his face. His beard had grown in, and it was far darker than his golden locks. Bucky’s gaze met Steve’s blue eyes. They were like an ocean that Bucky could already feel himself sinking into. Bucky had to remember he was mad at him for leaving. No…was Bucky mad? He hadn’t told Steve to stay either. But then again Steve seemed happy to go. Fuck. Which was it? Bucky was so tired at being at war with himself. Steve was still standing in silence in the doorway. The water dripped from Steve’s drenched clothes and onto the floorboards. Bucky was slowly defrosting from his stupor.

“Let me uh…go get you a towel.” Bucky walked into the bathroom, his mind still foggy at the edges. He had a moment of clarity and rifled in his drawers for a spare pair of trousers and a spare t-shirt. When he returned Steve had moved into the living area.  

“Uh…here.” Bucky thrust the pile of fresh clothes into Steve’s hands and immediately cursed himself for being so awkward. But the truth was Bucky didn’t know how he was supposed to feel. He was still in shock. He knew he ought to be angry, but when he looked at Steve all he felt was fondness. Fondness and the fear that any second he would slip through his fingers once again. Fading away to nothing.

Steve pulled off his soaking shirt without warning and Bucky felt his cheeks instantly flame. He had expected Steve to go into another room to change but, then again, seeing Steve shirtless was nothing new. How many times had Bucky patched him up when they were kids? How many bruises had Bucky held ice up against? However, when Steve moved to change out of his trousers, Bucky turned around, more so to hide the scarlet that he knew tinged his cheeks.

Would real Steve remember any of Hex Steve’s memories? Wanda hadn’t exactly ironed out all the logistics for him before she’d disappeared.

Bucky couldn’t help but wonder as he stared at the cracked plaster in the wall. When he turned back around, Steve had folded his wet clothes and was holding onto them, waiting for Bucky’s permission to place them somewhere.

“I’ll uh…I’ll take those.”

Bucky stepped forward and took the pile from Steve, their hands brushing ever so slightly. It had never been awkward between them before. But a tangle of unspoken things hung in the air between them. Bucky’s stomach was doing somersaults. He hurried towards the washing machine at the back and tossed the clothes inside. He heard the floorboards creak and Bucky looked up to see that Steve had followed behind him.

“I’m so sorry Bucky,” he blurted out. Bucky’s mouth opened and closed but words failed him.

“Buck, I know I hurt you. I shouldn’t have left. Just let me say this because there’s already been so much wasted time -”

“Steve-”

Steve shook his head before he knelt down. “Just let me say this. Then you don’t ever have to speak to me again.”

“Don’t be-”

“-I know we spoke about it, but after I went through that portal I realised I just wanted to put the stones back and then come straight back.” Steve’s gaze fell to the floor.

Bucky handed him the towel and stood up. This wasn’t a conversation to be had in his utility room floor. Bucky guided Steve over to the couch. Bucky wandered into the kitchen to brew a coffee and when he looked over his shoulder, he saw how deflated Steve looked. The look gave Bucky a strange sense of déjà vu from all those times Bucky had caught him in the enlistment queues.

Bucky didn’t have any milk in, so he handed Steve a black coffee. Steve gulped it down, a slight tremor in his hand. Bucky knew Steve better than anyone. He knew him better than he knew himself, even. Rarely had he seen him scared. But Steve was nervous.

“I tried – I know Bruce warned me but god Buck I tried to save you from that train.” His voice wavered. Bucky’s mouth had ran dry.

“And I tried to get Nat back. I tried. But…” he gave a bitter laugh. “I was picked up by these soldiers. Taken to a place called the TVA. They protect the sacred timeline.” He held the mug with both hands. “Which I still don’t completely understand. What I did understand was…” Steve finally looked Bucky in the eye. There was all these…alternate versions of how my life could’ve played out – should’ve played out, really. If I wasn’t an idiot.” Steve trailed off into an awkward chuckle. “But I realise how utterly crazy all this sounds.”  

“Steve,” Bucky said slowly, “you and I have fought in space. Space. I thought you were an alien when you jumped me earlier. We’re both like ninety years old. Of course I believe you. If you’re telling me little time lords picked you up I believe you.”

The weight in Steve’s shoulders lessened. He looked relieved.

“Is that another reference?”

Bucky smiled. He pulled out the notebook. He flicked past his list of names and back to Steve’s pop culture list. He scribbled ‘Doctor Who – Time Lords’ before he held the book out to Steve. Steve stared at it for a moment before he accepted it, their fingers brushing again. Bucky tried to ignore the way the touch danced up his arm.

“I know I have a lot more to explain, Buck.”   

“Trust me, me too,” said Bucky with a forced laugh which, of course, was about Westview. He’d maybe need a beer before he explained to Steve about Wanda’s Hex, but it seemed that Steve had, had an adventure of his own.

“So the TVA showed me a…movie of my life let’s call it.” said Steve and Bucky gestured at the couch for him to sit.

“I saw myself dancing with Peggy – I know that I owed her that dance…” Steve held the mug to his lips and he took another sip, before placing it back on the coaster. He was stalling, dragging out a moment he shouldn’t be.  “But really I knew that owed someone else a dance first.” His eyes finally met Bucky’s. “I realised that I owed him a lot of things.”

Bucky felt his heart skip a beat in his ribcage before he quickly stilled it. He’d been hurt before. There was only so many times that he could patch his heart back up, really.

“And I saw…a life that I should have had,” Steve continued. “With the person I had left behind.”

Steve covered Bucky’s hand with both of his own and held his gaze.

“So, I figured I’d do some of that living that Tony was always telling me about.” Steve felt his mouth was running dry. “And Buck, long story short, I fought through the TVA and now here I am.” He squeezed Bucky’s hand. “Back to my life.”

Bucky swallowed.

“But Steve, that was your chance. I thought you’d be happy there.”

Steve’s face had nothing but fondness etched across it. “I’ve always been happiest when I’m with you.”

Steve bit his lip after he spoke and looked up at the ceiling. He took a deep breath before he laid his palm against Bucky’s cheek. Bucky felt his heart hammer in his ears.

“I love you, Bucky. I love you with every fibre of my being and I’m tired of us missing each other. I’m tired of time separating us. I want to grow old with you, Buck. I want to do it all with you.” Steve’s long lashes fluttered. “I don’t know how long it’s been for you while I was gone – hell I don’t even know how long it’s been for me. I just know that you’re it for me Buck. You’re my endgame. And I understand if you don’t feel the same way.” Steve let Bucky’s hand go.

Bucky realised what Steve was saying. There was denying what he was implying. Bucky tried to cancel out all the noise in his brain.

“I just…I just needed you to know,” Steve said quickly, taking Bucky’s long pause for unease. “Nothing has to change between us, alright? You mean too much to me for me to lose you as a friend.”

Bucky stared.

He stared long enough that Steve was starting to shift in his position on the springy couch. Bucky spluttered and grabbed Steve by the shirt. He pulled him close – closer than they had been back in the alleyway.

“Are you done talking?” Bucky whispered and Steve just blinked, his eyes drifting down to Bucky’s lips briefly before shooting back up to his eyes.

“Yeah, I’ve had my speech.”

Bucky gave a small laugh. “Well, here’s mine and you know I hate long speeches so here goes: Steve, I’ve been in love with you since the 40s.”  

Then Bucky crushed his lips to his and it finally felt like coming home.

Steve went rigid for a second until he relaxed into the kiss and returned it in equal fervour. The old springs in the couch dug deep into Bucky’s back, right into all the wrong places but Bucky didn’t care. Steve ran his fingers through Bucky’s short hair, pulling him flush against him.

“I wanted to tell you before I left,” Steve whispered between a flurry of kisses that Bucky trailed along his collarbone, “but you seemed like… you were okay with me being…out of your life.”

Bucky shook his head before he pressed a kiss to Steve’s jaw. The beard was new but, truth be told, he’d always liked it back in Wakanda. Bucky had been sad to see it go. Steve’s breath wavered as Bucky pressed a kiss against his pulsepoint.

“I wasn’t,” Bucky admitted, his voice low and smokier than Steve had ever heard it go. “I just thought you’d be safer without me in it.”

Steve laughed in disbelief before Bucky seized the sound in another deep kiss, his teeth grazing Steve’s lip lightly.

“Then I guess we’re both idiots,” Bucky supplied.

Steve cupped his jaw. “No, Buck. I took all the stupid with me remember? This one’s on me.”

Bucky stood up and walked Steve back against the kitchen counter, Bucky’s minimalist lifestyle meant there was nothing for them to knock over which was just as well. Steve’s eyes dropped to Bucky’s chest. At the dog tags peeking out beneath his open shirt. Steve felt his heart race to see that the name engraved on them was his own.

“Where is the bed?” Steve asked, his hair ruffled and his breath slightly shaky. Bucky grew sheepish all of a sudden.

“Well, I, uh, I have a pile of blankets in that corner and that’s about it –”

Steve was already pulling him towards it.

In the TVA, Steve had witnessed a version of himself and Bucky dancing on the beach somewhere and embracing in the early morning sun. Of course, Bucky had been with Memory Steve in the Westview Hex, but neither experiences compared to that night. Tangled together in the sheets, Bucky showed Steve how much he had missed him and Steve showed Bucky just how much he meant to him. For Bucky had always been his first love. He was just glad they had both finally found the courage to admit it to each other.

They were soldiers on the battlefield and cowards in love. But they had nothing to lose and everything to gain so they held each other and vowed to never let the other go again.  

~~

The floor was not comfortable in any way shape or form but sleeping on a mattress had proven hellish for Bucky. That was why ever since he’d moved into this apartment he had opted for the floor. The cold floorboards let him feel far more rooted in reality when his dreams became vivid. However, it wasn’t the cold floor that pulled him back from a nightmare this time, but rather a soothing voice in his ear.

“…just dreaming, Buck. It isn’t real. We’re in your apartment, okay? I’m here… a night terror.”

Slowly, Bucky’s eyes fluttered open. He was clutching the blanket with his vibranium arm in a vice-like grip. Steve was lying beside him, a concerned expression knitted between his eyebrows. Bucky realised he had completely pulled the covers away from Steve And oh god not only was Steve uncomfortable on the floor, now he didn’t even have a blanket-

“Buck, take a deep breath, okay? I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Bucky tried to focus on Steve and Steve alone who was holding his other hand.

“Don’t worry about a stupid blanket, okay? I was frozen in a case of ice, remember? I don’t feel the cold.”

Bucky nodded, the tightness in his chest subsiding a little. He appreciated the joke, but his chest wouldn’t let him laugh. Gently, Steve placed Bucky’s flesh hand against his own chest so that Bucky could feel the slow, steady thump of his heart. This had worked when Steve had visited him back in Wakanda and he hoped that it would help now. Bucky took a deep breath in, copying Steve’s lead. After a while, he released the blanket from his vice-like grip. They stayed like that until Bucky felt his breath gradually return to his lungs once again.

“Sorry,” he murmured, but Steve was already shaking his head. He pressed a kiss to Bucky’s clammy forehead.

“Don’t you ever apologise. Not ever. Not for this.” He bumped their foreheads together. He lay his ear against Steve’s chest. The steady thump had increased its pace.

“Sorry th-” he caught himself after Steve gave him a look. “Thank you,” he corrected.

Steve pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. “You’re incredible, James. I love you. I love you so much.”

Bucky tilted his head up and kissed Steve. It felt good to have the taste of sunshine on his lips once again.

“Love you more,” Bucky murmured as he tucked his head against Steve’s shoulder.

“I doubt that,” said Steve quietly.

Bucky cracked open an eyelid to peer up at him. “Everything’s a competition with you isn’t it, Rogers?” he mumbled.

“Only when it comes to loving you. In that I have no match.”

Bucky wrapped his arm around Steve’s torso. They’d have to talk. They’d have to have a long conversation about all of this: Westview, the TVA the stones. But for now, Bucky held Steve for fear that time would find a way to pull them apart again. And Bucky did something he hadn’t managed to do for quite some time. He fell back asleep after a nightmare.

When Bucky woke up the following morning it was not to monsters whispering in his mind. Instead, he awoke once again to sunlight streaming in from his curtains.

And because of the smell of burning.

He kicked off the thin blanket and hurried into the next room. There stood Steve with a plate of toast the colour of charcoal and an embarrassed smile stretched across his face. The grey oven mitts with holes in them was cast over his shoulder. Steve stepped over to the bin and the burnt toast invaded Bucky’s nostrils.

“So, I’m really hoping I get points for effort here,” said Steve.

Bucky laughed. A beautiful sound that came straight from his heart. And Steve let it wash over him. Bucky was in Steve’s arms in three strides. He kissed him sweetly.

“Why don’t we go get pancakes? Then you can stop picking a fight with my toaster.”

“You always pull me out of my messes, Buck.”  

Bucky smiled. “We do have a lot of catching up to do.”

Bucky’s phoned dinged and without thinking twice about it he read the messages. For once he wasn’t afraid. He had 24 missed calls from Sam and 6 from an unknown number which he now realised must have been Steve. He opened the latest text message from Sam.

SAM: Maybe this’ll teach you to check your damn phone hm? 😉 I tried to give u a heads up so u could run a comb through that mop on your head. Not every day your boyfriend travels back in time for u

Bucky typed a response.

BUCKY: Sorry. Thanks for being a good friend.

Sam is typing…

SAM: A RESPONSE? AM I SEEING THINGS? Unless that’s sarcasm and I’m missing your tone.

BUCKY: Don’t make me say it again. I’ll take it back.  

SAM: Nah u can’t take it back u said it now. Enjoy ur date

Sam is typing…

SAM: What’s y’alls ship name anyway? #stucky? #jeve? #beven? Doesn’t matter I’m the founding member. NOW STOP TEXTING ME go reUniTE

Bucky put the phone back in his pocket. He smiled as Steve entered the room in a black baseball cap. Bucky felt lighter than he had in a while and this time when he left the apartment the nightmares did not follow him down the street.

Bucky sat at a booth with Steve at a diner a couple of blocks up the road. Steve’s ingenious idea to keep himself hidden was a pair of sunglasses paired with the cap – sunglasses which he immediately took off at the dinner table. He was essentially relying on the beard to mask his face.

“About things left unsaid,” said Bucky as he moved his pancakes around the plate with his fork.

“Uh huh,” said Steve as he smothered more syrup across his stack.

“I’m…friends with Yori Nakajima.”

“That’s okay, Buck. Sam and I aren’t going to fall out with you for hanging out with other people.” Steve gave a small chuckle before he noticed too late that Bucky did not return it. Bucky’s face had clouded over.

“I killed his son.”

Steve stopped and put his forkful of pancake back down. “You told him this though…right?”

Bucky’s silence was all the answer that Steve needed. Sighing, Steve reached forward to take Bucky’s hand and Bucky accepted without hesitation.

“I’m sorry, Buck.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Steve.”

Steve gently rubbed his thumb across Bucky’s fingers. “I just hate seeing you in pain.”

Bucky leaned back in his chair, but he still held onto Steve’s hand.

“I’ve tried…trust me I’ve tried so many times. I manage to get myself up to his apartment, then I make some sort of excuse about not paying for lunch. I panic. Then I leave.” Bucky clenched his other fist on the table. “Rinse and repeat.”

Steve nodded. “Pass me the book.”

The book. Because now they shared it. It was part-time redemption book, part-time pop culture dictionary and it was all theirs. Bucky handed it over and Steve flicked through the list of names until he spotted Nakajima.

“I can’t force you to do this, Buck. But I think you should tell him today. Tomorrow is never guaranteed, you know?”

God, Bucky was so hopelessly in love. He had missed that prophetic and calming voice.

“I know…you’re right.” Bucky sighed heavily. He was starving but he hadn’t been able to take a bite of the pancake yet. His remorse was twisting deep in his gut.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Buck.” Steve looked down at the table.

“It’s just I’ve learned through experience that it’s better to be honest.”

Bucky knew exactly which friend he was thinking of. He’d covered for Bucky before and it hadn’t went well for his friendship with Tony. Bucky looked out the window, at the sun breaking through the morning rain clouds.

“I’ll tell him the truth.”

~~

Steve waited at the bottom of the apartment block stairs as Bucky knocked on Yori’s door. Steve felt sick for him but he knew he was doing the right thing. Bucky was just beginning to talk himself out of it when the door swung open. Steve caught a glimpse of candles in a dimly lit room as an older man poked his head around the side of the door.

“Hey, what are you doing here? It’s not Wednesday.”

Bucky felt the tears grace his left eye again but he willed himself to stay at the door. He willed himself to say the words he’d practised. Words came out but not the ones he’d prepared earlier with Steve.

“I, uh, I have to tell you something. About your son. He was murdered.”

Yori’s face crumpled. “What?”

Bucky dug his nail deep into his other hand. “By the Winter Soldier,” he said. unable to keep the quiver from his voice. “And that was me.”

The door remained open. Bucky had expected a slam, a yell, a punch. But the old man merely cast his sad gaze Bucky’s way and uttered a single word that sliced straight through Bucky’s heart: “Why?”

Bucky had asked himself that question every day since his indoctrination had been lifted. The notebook in his pocket, Steve downstairs, Raynor and Sam’s advice all kept him standing at Nakajima’s door. Bucky took a deep breath in.

“I didn’t have a choice.”

Silence. Steve was trying to give them privacy but he was also watchful in case Bucky needed him. The door opened wider and Bucky headed inside. Steve felt a mixture of nerves and relief all at once. Steve headed out of the apartment complex – not far but just to the newsagents beside the apartment block. That’s when he saw the shield on the small television.

In the hands of someone who was very much not Sam Wilson. Immediately, Steve pulled out his phone. He’d messaged that morning and Sam had said nothing about this.

last message received today at 09:15

‘ON YOUR LEFT’ SAM: ‘I’m glad you two are talking. I can’t be your personal Hermes all the time. It’s tiring being friends with two super soldier dorks.’

STEVE: ‘Yeah well maybe pick cooler friends then. It went well. Going for pancakes.’

Steve tried to phone but it went straight to voice mail. He started typing instead.

STEVE: ‘Care to explain why I just saw the shield on TV?”

read at 11:08

Sam is typing.

Steve looked back to the apartment complex and then back at his phone. Sam was still typing. Steve moved to the bottom of the stairs and sat at the last step. Nakajima’s door was still closed. Steve quickly messaged Bucky although he knew he’d be busy.

STEVE: ‘Hey I’m still outside if you need me to come in Buck. You’ve got this, I believe in you.”

Steve stared at the screen for a minute remembering his own advice to Bucky that tomorrow was never guaranteed. He added:

STEVE: ‘I love you, B.’

Steve moved back to the message history with Sam and the man was still typing which sent a fresh wave of nerves through Steve. Eventually his phone dinged.

SAM: ‘Cosplayer????’

Steve let his face fall into his hands. There was always another problem. Steve tried calling again but it went straight to voice mail.

“Oh, you cannot avoid me forever, Wilson,” Steve muttered. His phone binged again with a longer message this time.  

SAM: ‘So I’ve been meaning to bring this up. I gave them the shield Steve. I’m sorry. I know you trusted me with it but it’s a big mantel Steve. A mantel I’m not comfortable with. It feels like someone else’s.”

Steve quickly texted him back.

STEVE: ‘It isn’t.’

Sam is typing

SAM: “I’ll talk soon I have a mission assignment. Enjoy your pancakes. Tell Chuckles I said hey. We can talk shield politics later k?’

Steve just stared at his phone. Sam was the rightful Captain America. Now some military guy was parading around with Howard Stark’s shield. Steve tapped the phone against the step his thoughts racing.

Maybe I should have just retired to the moon like the press are saying Steve suddenly found himself thinking.

The door at the top of the hallway opened and Steve stood upright. Bucky was in the hallway with Nakajima. The old man’s eyes were puffy but he was still standing near Bucky – he wasn’t cowering away from him or brandishing a weapon in Bucky’s direction which were both good signs.

“Captain America?” the older man asked and Steve didn’t feel like that was right. He hadn’t felt like Captain America for a long time now.

“Steve Rogers,” he said stepping forward and reaching his hand out for Yori to shake.

“Thank you for saving my friend,” said Yori his voice tight and Bucky looked at him in disbelief.

“Yori I-”

“He is a good man. As was my son. This world is cruel and it needs heroes like you protecting us from the darkness.”

Bucky was smiling softly at Steve as Yori spoke.

“Heroes like both of you,” Yori added and Bucky’s eyes widened.

“Yori I’m not – after everything I just told you I - ”

The older man shook his head. “I won’t lie to you, James. Looking at you is a painful reminder – but with age we learn that time is precious. My anger towards you will not bring my son back.” The old man placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Neither will it bring you or I any peace.” The old man moved back behind his door.

“Goodbye James and Captain Pretty Boy,” said Yori ignoring Steve’s earlier correction. “You might want to get your shield back.”

Then the door closed and Bucky and Steve were left with the old man’s words.

Bucky stood for a minute, staring at the closed door. He felt…he felt everything. Guilt, remorse but he also felt something new glimmering at the bottom of it all. He felt fingers lace through his and he turned to Steve.

“Thank you.”

Steve shook his head. “That was all you, Buck.”

Together they walked down the stairs and out into the street. Steve’s phone dinged and he reached into his pocket, hoping that Sam had come to his senses. But it was Bucky.

BUCKY: ‘I love you too doll.’

Steve smiled down at the phone before looking at the man himself standing beside him.

“You could have just responded to me in person, you know?”

Bucky made a small noise in reply. “Yeah. I suppose. But I’m just getting back into using these gadgets. Don’t make fun of an old man.”

“We’re both old men.”

Without thinking twice about it Bucky moved Steve’s hat down to cover their faces so that he could place a kiss against his lips. He popped the hat back on his head and smiled. As they walked, Steve stopped outside the newsagents again. The screen had changed. The man with the shield was gone and it had moved onto a report about sports.

“Steve?” Bucky lay a hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

This was Bucky’s moment. Steve would deal with the shield issue later. “Nothing.”

Bucky sighed. Yeah. When someone said nothing like that it was never nothing. His talks with Dr Raynor had taught him that much at least.

“Hey.” Bucky steered Steve around before thinking better of it. It was the afternoon now and the streets were starting to get busier. Bucky didn’t know if Steve wanted people to know he was back. He guided them into an alley, close to where they’d fought the previous night.

“No more of that. We’re being honest with each other right?”

Steve hung his head. “I saw Sam gave the shield away.”

Bucky’s face fell. “Ah. That.”

Steve bristled. “You knew?”

Bucky held his arms out, his hands still in the pockets of his coat. “I couldn’t exactly force him to keep it, Stevie." He looked away. "And I couldn’t exactly keep it. We discussed that before you left.”

Steve sighed. “In another life Buck you would have been the best Captain.”

Bucky shook his head. “You’re just saying that darlin. I’m too stubborn for that.”

They both knew that wasn't the real reason. Steve gave a humourless chuckle. “Trust me. That comes with the job.” Steve leaned against the wall and slowly pushed his way down it until he was lying on the ground. "Besides we both know I'm the most stubborn."

Bucky sat beside him, shoulder to shoulder and hands brushing. "Yes Sir," said Bucky which earned him an elbow from Steve. 

They sat like that for a moment in the alleyway. It was still damp from last night's torrential rain but it was free from crowds. Bucky was letting his conversation with Yori sink in while Steve thought about the shield in the hands of the ones he'd wanted desperately to keep it away from. Eventually Steve turned to face Bucky.

“We saved the world but there’s not a moment of rest is there?” Steve said. Bucky admired him then. The curve of his jaw and the crinkles in the corner of his ocean eyes. This was his Steve. The Steve that used to put newspaper in his shoes and throw himself into danger at the drop of a hat. And now Bucky had him back. Well...back again. Bucky cleared his throat. He was ready to do some more explaining.

“No. There is not. But uh Stevie?" He reached for Steve's hand. "So, you know how you said there was another me? In the TVA?”

“Uh huh. Where are you going with this, Buck?"

Bucky grew sheepish. “Okay so it’s a long story but after you were gone...Wanda kind of made her own mini reality and there was another you...”

And so, Bucky told Steve about Westview. He told him about the dancing and the waffles and how they painted the living room blue. Steve took it well all things considering. He said that in a weird way, as Bucky described it all he felt something in the back of his mind ripple like Bucky had cast a pebble into his memories. Who knows. Maybe Memory Steve and real Steve were more linked than they realised.

Bucky was Steve's past and he was also his future. For now they had pressing matters they had to face.Together Bucky and Steve devised a plan to get the shield back and in true Steve and Bucky fashion there was always another conflict right around the corner. But at least this time they could face it together.

Epilogue

Many Years later

Bucky heard the door snick shut and he sighed before dropping his black tie that he’d been trying to perfect for the past few minutes.

“You’re not meant to see me," he said to his fiance without turning around.

Steve laughed behind him and Bucky couldn't help but turn around. Steve was also dressed in a sharp black suit and he had opted for a bowtie whereas Bucky had went for a regular tie. This was just as well considering Bucky had been struggling to get it to sit. Steve stepped forward and adjusted it for him. 

“Bucky, I went many years without seeing you. You can be damned sure I won’t be doing that ever again.” He reached up and cupped his face. “I’m with you to the end of the line.”

Bucky looked at him curiously. “What does that even mean, Steve?”

Steve looked puzzled. “You know what it means. It means we’re together until the end.”

Bucky looked down at their joined hands. The gold vibranium rings on their fingers brushing.

“But that’s the part that always bothered me when we say that. It sort of implies that there is an end. I mean I know when we said it in the war what we meant but…what about now?”

Steve finished with his tie and lay his palm against Bucky's chest. “Yeah everything has to end eventually, but that’s what makes life beautiful. Buck, the end of the line means when we’re old and grey in our rocking chairs. That’s the end of the line I see for us. Nothing more and nothing less.” Steve took his hand and led Bucky to the window that overlooked the ocean.

Bucky smiled at him. “I’m game. But can we make sure the rocking chairs are on a beach preferably?"

Steve brushed his lips over Bucky’s. “A couple of ice men retired in the tropics? That’s the end of the line right there.”

Bucky smiled.

“I love you, Steve. So much.”

“I love you, Bucky. Until the end of time.”

And they remained true to their vows which they took holding Steve's scruffy notebook between them. Although Steve preferred 'vintage.' They loved and protected each other through every battle. Steve even learned how to work the toaster. And Bucky still wore Steve's dog tags, only now there was a beautiful golden wedding ring to hang with it. 

THE END