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Usually, it was like getting shocked, waking up from a nightmare. There, trapped in the horrors of his subconscious, then back like a snap.
This one wasn't like the others. It wasn't high voltage running through his veins. It was like hitting the shore after the stream that drowned you washes back your dead body.
He wiped the tears rolling through his eyes, but they wouldn't stop coming.
He dreamed about Steve.
It wasn't his usual kind of night terrors, all full of faces of lives he destroyed or faces that destroyed him and monstrous chairs and the feeling of having the remains of his left arm cut off. It was almost worse for how bittersweet it was.
And it was the only way he'd ever be with him again.
He threw his sheets away angrily, trying to wipe his face again with trembling fingers, locking tightly the name stuck in his throat.
He was gone.
Steve was gone.
There was nothing that really could heal this pain. He knew.
He already was damn lucky to now have arms that would bring some relief from this ever-lasting pain.
Peter was a gift. He was something to hold on to and make him believe he still could have a life even after all this.
He didn't believe he would ever stop loving Steven Grant Rogers and it hurt. But Peter Parker carved a place in his heart all to himself. And that helped.
So he tried to think about soft, rich brown hair and gentle, soft spoken voice to sooth the visceral hurt he was feeling that second.
Think about a shy smile and big brown eyes.
Keeping the blue ones at bay. Keeping the spun gold trances at bay.
The deep, caring voice that sounded like home.
.
Those past few days were being hard, and he was afraid of letting Peter know about it. His guy was already so sincerely unsure about his status versus Steve's in his life because of how their relationship began-… Trust go both ways, sure, but was it trusting or just oversharing without regard for the other's feelings, dump all those things on Pete?
So, he didn't say much of anything, but felt like he noticed anyway. Peter was so responsive to those around him…
He should talk to him, shouldn't he? He didn't want to hurt his boy's feelings but wouldn't help much go back again to the hiding things because they're hurtful and making it worse thing too.
…He couldn't think.
And, God, Stevie was everywhere with him these days. Not only in his heart and mind like always, but printed on t-shirts and murals, in videos people were watching without a damn earphone on, inside his favorite local café.
Wherever he turned, there it was his face, his voice, his symbol.
It hurt his heart as much as it made him proud.
.
“I dreamed with him again, doc.” – it was the first thing he said after Jo closed the door. – “I can't stop dreaming ‘bout him and it makes it worse. It makes his loss hurt worse and I can’t take it. I feel like I'm drowning again.”
“Can I ask what the dream was about, Bucky?” – she invited, in that soothing nonobtrusive way of hers after he sat down on the armchair farthest away from the damn window, and he pinched the bridge on his nose, tired, nodding resignedly.
“Us. Just… us. Together. He’d wake up all soft and sweet in the mornings, those eyelashes fanning over the apples of his cheeks from how long they were. And I’d kiss him, and he’d laugh and curse, telling me to not touch him again before we brushed our teeth. Then he was gone. I woke up alone and it felt all over again like it did when I first lost him. He was like light. He was like the sun. And now he's gone.”
“Bucky, something happened between you and Peter?”
“What? No. Nothing happened. We're good. I told you, we talked, we kissed and made up. We're good. There's nothing.” – he replied, confused, looking at those dark soulful eyes of hers.
“Are you sure?”
“…Hate when you ask this. You usually go then and proves I'm stupid and don't know a damn thing ‘bout what's going on in my own life.” – he sighed exasperated, making her laugh softly.
He liked when she laughed.
Made him feel less broken, knowing he still could do that to the person that better knew his nightmares and regrets. The horrors that haunted him at night.
“You are too busy living your life to be able to see it. It's not stupidity, it's perfectly common. Think of this like being in a maze: You're inside it, trying to find your way through it. I'm looking from above. I just have an advantage in perspective, that's all. But, back to the point… you said you two ‘kissed and made up'.”
“I'll not go into detail ‘bout that, Jo. A guy doesn’t just kiss and tell.”
“Bucky, I’ll always hear whatever you need to sort through. Anything at all, even your sex life if it’s what you need. But you know I’m not asking about it.” – she said all open and gentle and light and caring. – “…Nothing really happened?”
“… He said he loved me.” – he confessed; a bit bashful about it. – “And I said it back. I-… I already knew. It’s not a surprise, but… it meant something, yeah.”
“And now you’re dreaming about Steve?”
“…Yeah.” – he answered brokenly, looking away.
“…Since you and Peter said you loved each other for the first time?”
“I-…” – he paused, confused, then surprised and then deeply upset. – “Y’mean I keep dreaming of losing Stevie cause I’m with Pete now?”
“Maybe because, for some reason, you feel guilty about it.”
“I-…” – he stopped again. Blank. Feeling blindsided.
“You know, you’re not betraying Steve by moving on, Bucky.” – Jo said evenly, and he felt his eyes starting to burn slightly.
Jesus. He did feel guilty.
He did.
“I-… I love Steve. I love him, present tense. I’ll look around and still search for him like he’s there and he’s not and it hurts so bad. I’d give anything to see him again. But how can I, when I’m in love already with Pete? I love him. I love his dorky face and his soft high voice, and his nervous stutter and it makes me so happy just to look at him and I love them both. And how can I-...?”
“You, being in a happy relationship now with Peter is a compliment to what you had with Steve. This love you have for him will always be present, but our hearts are capable of infinite love and do have room for new ones.”
He knew that.
He knew it damn well, when he found himself sharing Stevie’s heart with Agent Carter, back in the day.
He knew one love didn’t invalidated another, but back when he felt more man than monster, he believed that a union should be forever.
He knew he’d never be able to die with old age beside Steve for a reason or another, but it never made him stop to want to. And he thought that here in this strange, crazy, fast-pacing new world, after everything, maybe they finally would.
“…We were happy doc. As much as we could, with me cracking up and he as an outlaw, I mean. He'd go to Wakanda and we'd be in the nature, on a hut king T'chala offered us. I'd go ‘round all day looking after the local kids and when he was there, he'd draw and sing softly and horribly off key some ol' songs from our time he said I liked back then. And, at night I'd hold him close to me and just feel him breathing-, we were happy. And now he's gone and I'm with someone else already? How's that normal?”
“If you had an unhappy relationship, you wouldn’t want another one. So, this desire for love is a reflection of the happiness you shared with him. It’s a good thing. No two relationships are the same. So, your love for Peter will never be the same as yours for Steve. It isn’t dishonoring your history with Steve, to find love again. He’d want you to carry on and be happy, right? Make the most of your life now while you're here. It’s a healthy path towards closure and such a huge step you took towards recovery… You should be proud.”
“…But I miss him.” – he whispered brokenly, looking away from her. If he looked at those dark, soulful eyes of hers right now he was sure he’d break in two.
“Yeah.” – she agreed with a gentle voice, curving herself forward like she wanted to touch his hand, but didn’t want to startle him.
“I miss him so fucking much Jo-…”
“I know. Want to tell me more about it?”
.
He felt tired and sad. And, also, he felt anguished and so damn relieved he left the letter Steve left him with Sam for safekeeping. Didn’t have it at hand to keep torturing himself with their love.
Jo was right. Stevie would want him to be happy. Like he wanted when he felt Steve should choose Carter and live a normal, safe and happy life with a girl and kids and the whole shebang, not in the shadows with him, always afraid to be what they were.
He was ready to let him go and make himself happy with his happiness.
He was ready to be alone, cause he thought he would never be able to love again.
He was wrong.
When he saw the sweet, happy face of his best guy entering the damn café with the girl with Steve's shield on her shirt taking selfies close to the windows, warm brown eyes sparkling and a shy smile on, he could feel in his bones.
Yeah… He was completely wrong.
.