Work Text:
Bucky stared.
That wasn’t something unusual, he was always staring, glaring even, intimidating everyone whose eyes he met. But now there was nothing behind it. His gaze was tired, his head empty and he stared without really seeing anything. It didn’t have meaning.
It started on the ride home Sam gave him after Steve came back old from the past and gave Sam his shield. It got worse until he worked with Sam again for the mission with the Flagsmashers but then got better the more he was around Sam, his family, the people in Delacroix.
It got worse again as Bucky got one of the most terrifying text messages he had ever received.
Steve had died in his sleep overnight.
He had his funeral at a small and old graveyard in Brooklyn, he was now directly next to his parents. It was an open and public funeral with paparazzi and all sorts of people mourning Captain America.
But then the Avengers had a private funeral afterwards, similar to Tony’s and Natasha’s to mourn Steve Rogers. Bucky was asked to talk about him, his best friend and partner in crime(fighting). He declined. He just couldn’t.
So instead Sam was now standing in front of the small crowd. Bucky couldn’t hear what he was saying, his mind too blank to listen. He just stared.
He noticed Sam taking deep breaths in between his sentences to prevent himself from crying. Meanwhile Bucky’s eyes were as dry as a desert, focused on the man in front of him without really seeing anything.
He reminded himself to blink.
After all the formal talk was over Bucky followed Sam around, letting him do the small talk and the socializing, just nodding along sometimes.
When they got home to their hotel they stayed in for the time being afterwards Sam shot him a glance.
“You okay?” he asked as he did so often on their missions.
Bucky nodded as an answer and went directly to bed. He felt empty and yet his thoughts were racing. He didn’t know where, couldn’t figure out what they were even about, but they always circled back to one thing.
Steve.
The next morning their breakfast was quiet.
What wasn’t unusual as Bucky really wasn’t a morning person and not a big talker in general but this morning the silence was filled with tension. The tension to ask a stupid little question Bucky just couldn’t get out.
But then finally, “Can you drive me to the graveyard today?”
The question had been quiet and Bucky feared he had to repeat himself after Sam didn’t immediately react.
But then he looked up from his newspaper and gave Bucky a small reassuring smile. “Sure thing.”
The ride there was quiet and shorter than Bucky had thought.
Sam guided Bucky carefully towards the grave. It was a quiet place and luckily no one was here at the moment. Bucky let his gaze wander over his best friend’s gravestone, then the one of his parents.
Sam still had his hand on Bucky’s back between his shoulders, reassuring and telling him I’m here without overwhelming Bucky with the contact.
Bucky looked back at Steve’s gravestone. It was simple, the engraving similar to the old one of his parents.
Steven Grant Rogers
4th July 1918 – 24th September 2025
A Hero, A Friend
A liar, Bucky added in his thoughts.
“Sometimes I wonder if he ever meant something with ‘till the end of the line’”, he wondered out loud. “I know I meant something by saying it. Back in 1936. I picked up more shifts at the docks, had two, three jobs at one point so we could afford shit. Especially his medication. God he had so many illnesses and quirks. I did a lot. He was my best friend after all.”
Sam made a soft sound, indicating he was listening.
Bucky fell quiet for a second. Best friend. Back in the day they often got weird looks, there were rumors about their seemingly too close relationship but never something serious that could’ve harmed them. They probably have been close to crossing the line between platonic and romantic a few times, but Bucky never really thought about it that much. He knew he could count on Steve and knew he himself was there for Steve too and that’s what counted.
“I never wanted something back in return or something. That would’ve been bullshit. But after he got me out from Hydra the first time it was a lot to see how he had changed. Of course I was happy that he was good, healthy and strong and such but… it felt like he didn’t need me anymore. What sounds stupid.”
“It’s not stupid”, assured Sam softly.
“I stepped from the lead into the follower role. Which I didn’t mind really, but the feeling of needing to protect him never left my instincts. And then he cared for me so much, especially after the incident in Russia with Zemo. And I felt so helpless. And I mean”, Bucky chuckled quietly without humor, “sometimes I’m not so sure if I’m not the reason he left.”
He felt Sam move his hand slightly but it didn’t move away.
“You know, I saw it in his eyes. He didn’t look at me like he did back then. While he helped me recover, he wanted back the old Bucky. The Bucky from the forties and before that.” He swallowed a lump in his throat and blinked rapidly as he felt tears well up in his eyes as he worded his biggest worry for the first time. “Maybe I’m the reason he left.”
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam move, turn towards him. His hand moved from his back to his shoulder where Sam squeezed lightly.
“It’s not your fault”, Sam said sternly.
Bucky glanced at him shortly before he returned his gaze to the stone.
“I should be happy for him, shouldn’t I. He got the life he always wanted. And it’s not like I’m not happy for him but like…” Bucky shrugged at the loss of words and stayed silent afterwards.
He felt Sam squeeze his shoulder again but didn’t dare to look at him again. He would start bawling his eyes out right then and there if he did.
“It’s okay. Really. I’m also somewhat angry at him. But he made his decision. It’s okay to have your opinion about it and feelings that come from that. Stop beating yourself up about having your own emotions and opinions. It’s okay that you’re feeling what you’re feeling.”
Bucky nodded slightly and then dared to look at his friend. Sam’s warm brown eyes were filled with sorrow but also understanding. The edges were tinged slightly red.
“Thank you. For sticking with me and my bullshit.”
Sam chuckled slightly. “We’re partners, remember. I won’t ever pull shit like that.” He gestured towards the grave.
“You promise?”
Sam smiled and squeezed Bucky’s shoulder again, harder than before. “Dude we live together. My nephews call you uncle. I’m not planning on going anywhere. Especially not the past.”
As Bucky chuckled and this time it held humor again. The fond smile that followed was genuine.
“Thanks pal.”
Sam gave him a strong pat on the back. “And now let’s get back, we have a long ride ahead of us.”
Bucky groaned as the two made their way back to the car. He totally wasn’t looking forward to the twenty one hour drive home. He was too old for that shit.