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It had been two years when he lost you in the final battle. Two years without you, having to walk alone in this world.
Sure, he had Sam, but he had lost you to death and Steve to life. He was happy for Steve, but you… you had so much to live for in this world. It was ripped away from you, you were ripped away from Bucky’s arms. He remembered seeing life fading away from your eyes, you were spitting up blood as a spear had pierced you. Bucky had tried to believe that you’d be saved, but nothing could save you. Not even the time stone, because that would have meant going through the battle again. You’d never forgive them for that. You had given your life for others, you had lived without Bucky for all these years, and just a few moments after you got him back, it was over for you. And you wouldn’t be able to come back.
It fell on Bucky like a dark shroud, the feeling of being alone. He occasionally heard you calling him, caught a glimpse of you in the hallways and often saw dreams of you. You still being alive. Laughing, smiling, being happy. Not scared.
He wanted to remember you that way, but seeing you in so much pain, slowly bleeding out, it blocked Bucky from remembering you as you were. Knowing you had suffered made it so much worse.
Everyone tried to comfort him, telling him that you were no longer in pain, but Bucky just couldn’t wipe the thought out.
“Why it wasn’t me?” he whispered, bringing his own hand to his face. “I’m supposed to be dead anyways. I’m just living on with spare time…”
Sam sighed, patting Bucky on the back.
“They're at peace now. They know that we’re safe. They’re happy about it. I know it.”
Bucky slowly nodded, trying to tell himself to let you go - let your memory be bright and happy again. But it would take a long time to regain.