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1.
Bucky Barnes got his soulmate mark when he was 16.
It was an unusually hot summer, humid, air felt thick and smelt of human pickle. Even though it was summer vacation, no kids were running around on the street playing games, and after 2 more were drowned, they were banned from going anywhere near a body of water without supervision. Bucky was not a swimmer, neither was Steve, besides they were both too busy working.
Steve had to work Bucky just tagged along. Steve worked for a grocery store, the owner was kind enough to let Steve take home whatever was about to expire so Steve really was grateful, worked like a horse-a skinny one nevertheless-to repay the generosity. Bucky picked up a job as a waiter in the diner just across the street. Sometimes they’d wave at each other when Steve’s out carrying some boxes and Bucky was able to see him through the window, that often annoyed the hell out of Bucky’s employer.
Bucky spent most of his free money on popsicles, Steve rarely had any thing cold because it made his tooth ache, but he never said no to soda pops. When they didn’t have to work, Bucky liked lying on the floor with only pants on with Steve next to him, more properly dressed just in case Bucky’s sisters ‘decided to bust in’, as Steve explained. They never did. The two of them would simply watch the squeaky fan above them pinning slowly, and tell horror stories about what would happen if that thing fell on them. At night, after the sun went down, Bucky’s parents would take them to the beach or river bank, to enjoy the fresh breeze and the cool water washing over their feet, and summer was officially wonderful.
On July 29th, 1934, Bucky whistled his way to work, he was in a good mood today because his folks got the kids tickets to a circus show for tomorrow night, they got to see tigers and all! He went straight to the store where Steve worked to break the news. Steve was stocking the half meagre shelf, excitement sparked in his eyes at the prospect of seeing a real life tiger.
“you gonna have dinner with us tonight?” Bucky asked before he had to leave.
“no, mom’s home today.” Steve smiled a little, “we are gonna try this cold tomato soup receipt she got from her colleague.”
“Okay.” Bucky sized Steve up a bit, frowning. It was a tough time for all, but Steve looked even paler than usual. “are you OK? Did you have breakfast? You seemed unwell.”
“I’m just a bit tired. Plus the heat, you know.”
“Just take a break, I’m sure Mr. Hendricks would let you. Drink some water.”
“My mom’s a nurse, Buck, I know how to take care of myself.” Steve rolls his eyes a little, pushing him halfheartedly on the shoulder, “now go. You’ll be late.”
Bucky waved goodbye to Mr. Hendricks on the way out, yelled a ‘dress nicely tomorrow’ at Steve before he jogged across the street to the diner where his employer stared at him as if he was some punk about to fuck up his business. Bucky flashed a blinding smile at the old man, put on his apron and sprung into work. Bucky was not gonna let this guy ruin his day.
At 2:30pm, the lunch buzz was finally over, Bucky was asked to clean up the kitchen as his final task of his shift, which was totally not within his job description. Bucky picked up the mop from the bathroom, still dripping wet, splashing water everywhere as he went with little care for cleanness.
“Barnes!” his boss growled.
Bucky looked over to him, as innocently as he could manage, “what? I’m doing my job.”
“alright, that’s enough. You’re fired. Get the hell out.” snatching the mop from his hand, the man gave Bucky a hard push, knocking him a couple of steps forward.
Bucky glared, “suck my dick, bastard.” and strode out of the diner in long strides. He heard the man curse something even filthier behind him and felt a sense of triumph. Steve’s gonna love to hear the story. Steve...
Bucky’s heat sank to the hard crest of the earth.
There was his Steve, his best friend and the biggest fucking idiot in the universe, passed out in the alleyway right next to a fucking trash can.
Bucky rushed over, cradling Steve’s upper body in his arms, Steve’s head lolled to the side and rest on his shoulder. His face was so pale, giving out a grey-ish color, his brows still stuck in a deep frown, like he was in pain although he wasn’t conscious.
How long had it been? Oh god please don’t let him be dead. Bucky didn’t realize how shaky his hands were until he reached out to test Steve’s breathe under his nose. It was feather light but it was there.
Steve was so skinny and light, lighter somehow, now he’s deadweight. Bucky carried him into the store and shouted at Mr. Hendricks to get them to the hospital. The poor man was equally stunned by Steve’s condition, kept apologizing for his negligence as they sped their way to the ER. Bucky didn’t hear him. Steve was so quiet and still in his arms.
The doctors and nurses at the ER put Steve on IV, then someone said something in rush and they closed the curtain. On the other side, Bucky stood amidst the bustling hallway, he was so panicked he was paralyzed. His body was frozen, his mind completely blank, he could only feel his heart thumping in his chest, a reminder that something’s gone horribly wrong.
Then someone yanked his arm to pull him to the side, flashed of white rushed in front of his eyes, people were shouting.
“you alright, son?”
Bucky blinked once, twice, finally taking in the sight of Mr. Hendricks in front of him.
“I...” he swallowed, “I need to call Steve’s mom.”
“’K.”
“I need to...” Bucky looked at the closed curtain, murmured again, “I have to call...”
“here.” the older man handed him a couple of coins, “they’ve got a payphone in the hallway.”
Bucky took the coins, strolled over to the payphone and dialed the number he must’ve had dialed hundreds of times before.
“Sarah Rogers.” the sweet female voice on the other end answered.
“It’s Bucky. I, we, Steve’s in the ER.”
“Bucky? What happened? Which hospital?”
“St. Mary’s. He’s passed out...they closed the curtain.”
That’s when it hit him, all of it. The fear, the anger, the grief, the fucking unrealness of it all. They were trying to resuscitate Steve. Was Steve dead?
Bucky let out a choked cry, tears bursting out of his eyes, his legs spasmed, and his body collapsed to the floor with his one hand still clutching on the speaker phone. Sarah said something that he couldn’t make out and the line was dead, still Bucky didn’t let go of it. It was like something was cut off from the inside and he was nothing but a fragment of being, a hallow shell, a pond without fishes, bond to stick in the eternal state not-dead.
He cried and cried until his body went numb, until someone hauled him from the floor and led him to the waiting area, until someone called, “Steven Rogers?”
Bucky jumped to his feet, almost fell over form the dizziness, but he managed to make his way to the doctor, “is he alive?”
“he’s got one hella heat stroke, was touch and go for a while but he’s alright now.” the doctor announced, he could be amused by Bucky’s level of concern if he wasn’t so overworked, “he’s not fully awake yet, we’re gonna keep him for a couple of hours, but he should be able sleep on his on bed tonight. Keep him cool and hydrated.”
“Yes, thank you.” it was Mr. Hendricks who answered the doctor, because Bucky rushed inside the second he heard that Steve’s fine.
There wasn’t a chair so Bucky stood by Steve’s bedside, holding his cold, boney hand in his. Steve looked terrible, sweaty and grey-ish, his blonde hair messily stuck to his forehead, lips chapped. But he was alive, his chest rose and fell as he breathed. He was alive, and he could be released soon.
“know how to take care of yourself my ass.” Bucky muttered, “You fucking idiot, you could’ve died. Fucking...fuck.” he sniffed, tears streaming down his cheeks again, shuddered at the very idea of it. How could he have lived without Steve? How could he have survived?
Steve didn’t wake up until long after sarah’s arrived, both sarah and Bucky hugged Steve so tightly they could crush bones, then both gave Steve very hardened talk about properly taking care of himself. Steve looked embarrassed, but for the most part he was just as scared as them, so when Bucky asked to stay the night with Steve, Steve didn’t object. In fact he would’ve begged for Bucky to stay if Bucky hadn’t offered.
Bucky was in the shower when he saw the mark on his left middle delt. A faint star: his soulmate mark.
Bucky stared at it for a long long time before he pulled a t shirt over it and decided it was for the best that Steve never found out.
2.
Steve never knew why soulmate mark existed, or why it only manifested itself after the death of their soulmate. Just to worsen the pain and devastation?
Steve’s parents were soulmates, Sarah’s got a curly line on the palm of her left hand. Sarah told Steve that it was something his father used to do, he liked to trace his fingers on her palm. She sometimes traced the line herself, it offered her some comfort, like a remembrance of him. Steve just found it sad. A selfish part of him wished he never had to have that mark.
After Bucky left for Europe, Steve started to check his body for the ominous mark everyday, sometimes a couple of times a day. There was always none.
Then things happened, he toured around the country, and then Europe, day after day. Steve no longer got embarrassed when people cheered for him, or startled when pretty girls stole a kiss from him, he just did his job, and looked in the mirror every time before he put on the ridiculous star spangled suit and every time he returned to Steve Rogers. No soulmate mark.
It was a rough day, bad weather, the show was even worse. He found himself a quiet spot by the porch and took out a notebook to draw. The notebook was one of the few things he brought with him, Bucky got it for him last year along with some color pencil. Steve didn’t draw as much after finishing high school, Bucky was more adamant about it than Steve himself, always said he’s gonna see to it that Steve got to art school.
“with that money?” Steve always asked, with some amusement. Bucky’d come up with the most unhinged answers like “we can be pirates.” or “the lottery, duh.” and Steve’d go along with Bucky’s fantasies, picturing a future with nice houses and furniture and cars and dogs. Bucky always wanted dogs. Steve had drawn all of it, obviously.
Peggy sat down next to him. She told him he could be so much more than a dancing monkey, she said it like she believed it. Steve wanted to believe it too.
“they’re part of 107th, they went through the worst...”
“107th?” his back straightened.
“yeah?”
Steve tucked his notebook securely in the inside pocket of his coat and sprinted to where Colonel Philips was, Peggy, albeit confused, followed him.
“I just need one name, sgt. James Barnes. B-A-R...”
“I’m sorry.” that was all Colonel Philips said.
Steve took a deep breathe in, like a decision was made, then he ran again, this time to the backstage. Peggy caught Steve when he was coming out of there with that useless metal shield and plastic helmet.
“where are you going?”
“Italy.”
“By car?” she asked incredulously, as Steve loaded his gears into the truck.
“I’ll walk if I have to.”
“Steve, your friend...” Peggy didn’t finish the sentence.
“He’s alive.” Steve asked her, “do you mean it, when you said I could be more?”
“yes.”
“then help me.”
And she did. God she did, because Steve Rogers would never take no for answer, because he had such confidence that Barnes was alive it lit up the fire she knew was in this man all along, because this was the first time Steve got to choose. He didn’t deserve to be a mere show animal, if he died, he’d die a hero.
Steve didn’t die, neither did Barnes and almost two hundred of their soldiers. The unlikely success gave forced the army to reconsider Steve’s role in the war. Steve was now officially an army captain with a handpicked team, a formidable team, one that took down a dozen Hydra bases in a course of 5 months, one that’s gonna determine the outcome of the whole goddamn war.
On 10th February, 1945, Steve and his team came back from Austria with Arnim Zola, Red Skull’s right hand man. This pathetic little worm of a man was reasonably terrified, because he had caused Steve his best friend’s life. It didn’t take the SSR long to convince him to turn on Hydra.
When Colonel Philips relayed the news, Steve felt nothing. Rage, of course, mostly Steve supposed what he felt was lost, but even that was distant, muffled, something above the surface while he was drowning. A resignation to the reality that he’d forever feel this way, drifting underwater with no earth beneath him, and no one to hold on to. In London he had no home, no one to go back to. He wasn’t sure if there was one in Brooklyn, either. He wasn’t sure if that mattered.
London had been under a series of air strikes last week, the tavern, where the Howling Commandos was first composed, has been reduced to ruins as a result. Steve went, picked up a shaky, dusty chair, sat by the bar and drank and drank and drank.
“He’s dead.” Steve whispered.
“I’m sorry.” came Peggy’s voice. She’s pulled up a chair as well, keeping an arm’s distance between them.
“I can’t get drunk. Or forget. I can’t leave.” he said, his tone was even if not cold, “Hydra will pay. I won’t stop until every last one of them is dead or captured.”
“You won’t be alone.”
Steve didn’t answer, he didn’t even seem to hear her at all. This man, who’s got a heart too big for his body - enhanced for not, who was so passionate about justice and freedom and all the good things in the world, who would blush if a girl even looked at him for too long, he just seemed...Defeated.
“Barnes made a choice. Don’t deny him the dignity of that.”
Perhaps it was Barnes’ name that finally roused some reaction out of him, Steve turned to look at her as if he didn’t register her existence until now. He remained silent, his face completely closed off, only the redness of his eyes gave away his grieve.
“All I had to do was hold on.” Steve said, his left hand twitched, “And now he’s dead.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” that was the best she could offer.
Steve didn’t say anything, instead, he rolled up his right sleeve. On the inside of his upper forearm, there was a dove. Peggy closed her mouth.
“yeah.” Steve sighed. Neither said anything afterwards.
3.
Test Report
Date:13th March, 1945
Name: [redacted]
Test Result: test subject#132b died during procedure, the cleanup crew had collected the body and will dispose of it tomorrow.
test subject #191a responded well to the injection, initial test put his metabolism rate 1.7 times and strength 2.3 times above average, more test will be conducted in the following days. Loyalty program underway.
....
Operation on test subject #231b was successful with no sign of post op complications. Subject has demonstrated above average healing capacity, more tests needed.
NOTE: Test subject #231b has a star shaped mark on the chest. Suspected it to be his soulmate mark. Waiting for further instructions.
4.
There were quieter days where they’d just sat at the barn, shoulders nudging, and watch the sun go down. Most days, however, the best they could manage was a facetime call.
“Shuri asked if I wanted any design for the arm.” said Bucky.
“Do you?” Steve’s been growing a beard, his hair was longer now as well, really upped the nomad thing a notch. He looked smoking hot though. Bucky had also been letting his facial hair grow, despite what Steve said, Bucky thought he fell more into the ‘hobo’ category than ‘rough sexy.’
“I dunno. It has colors. Black and gold.” Bucky made a face. Steve just chuckled. “I don’t know if I want it, you know.”
“I know.” said Steve, quietly, “You don’t have to.”
“You sure? Am I replaced by birdman?”
“the FALCON can hear you!” Sam yelled somewhere outside of the frame.
“No one can replace you, buck. You’re my soulmate.” Steve really put the stress on the last word. His smile radiated warmth even through a electronic screen, from hundreds of miles away.
That was one of the first things Steve told him after Shuri deprogrammed him, not to help him remember - he had already regained most of his memories back by then - only because Steve was done hiding. Fate had taught them in the most cruel way possible that time and fortune was rarely on their sides, dancing around really wasn’t gonna work.
Steve showed him the dove on his forearm, “I used to hate the idea of having a soulmate mark,” he told him, words gushing out with passion, “what good’s that gonna do when your soulmate is dead. I checked for one after you were shipped to Europe everyday, scared to hell that it might manifest, that you’d be dead and I wasn’t there. Or worse, that you might be dead but I wouldn’t even know. And then you died, this fucker showed up. I wanted to burn it, or cut it out, because you were dead, Bucky, and I let that happen. [Bucky wanted to say something but Steve shook his head] Now, Bucky? I’m fucking grateful because I have this and I have you, right here. I’m the luckiest son of bitch in the world who knows his soulmate is right here with him. Bucky, I’ve been wanting to say this, god, since I could remember. I love you, I love you more than the world itself.”
Bucky lifted his arm, his forefinger brushed over the mark ever so slightly. “you are not the luckiest son of bitch in the world.” Bucky whispered, gazing into Steve’s blue eyes, his fingers slid down Steve’s arm to grab his hand and guided it to pull the collar of his shirt. Steve had pressed his palm over the star on his chest, felt the quickened heartbeat underneath the skin. Slowly Bucky said, “this’s not even the first one.”
“what do you mean?” Steve almost choked on his words.
“remember when you were 15 and almost died of a heat stroke?” Steve nodded, Bucky pointed to his non existent left shoulder, “got a star there.”
Steve had burst into tears right then, bawling, huddling into a ball on Bucky’s laps, shaking from the overwhelming emotion roiling through him. There were tears in Bucky’s eyes too, but he was smiling, holding Steve with as much strength and resolution as he could muster, with all the love and devotion he had for the man. “we’re never gonna be apart again.” he promised.
The idea was tempting. “When will you be back?”
“I don’t know yet. Wanda sent a distress signal, we’re not sure what we’re up against.”
“I heard it’s aliens.”
“I miss it when aliens are just sci-fi stuff.”
“me too, pal.” Bucky pressed his fingers on the lips and then on the camera, Steve did the same, their finger touched. “Stay safe.”
“See you soon.”
It was only a few hours before T’Challa showed up at his little farm and informed him that an intergalactic war was about to break out, Steve was on his way here.
Bucky nodded, looking down solemnly at the vibranium arm that T’Challa so generously gifted him. Steve once said they were both, in one way or another, always soldiers, not because they chose to be but because the good fights and the bad always came knocking on their door. They couldn’t run, the only way out was death but even that hadn’t lasted for neither of them. Luckily they never had to fight alone. They’d always have each other, till the end of line.
Bucky heard himself asking, “Do I have time to add a little something to it?”
“What do you want?”
“A star.”
This was the first time Bucky had put on a suit in nearly 3 years, he didn’t know how to feel about it so he decided not to think.
Steve came back with half the Avengers team. He went straight for Bucky upon disembarkation and hugged him so tight it hurt. Behind him, Bucky saw that Sam made a show of rolling his eyes like a five year old.
Steve noticed the painted white star on his shoulder, tracing his thumb over the pattern, his cheerful face turned soft, reminiscent. “You should’ve waited for me to draw it.”
Bucky barked out a laughter. “yeah I probably should have.”
“it’s not bad.”
“no, not bad at all.”
The fight was chaotic, to say the least. There were aliens, gods, a tree and a racoon. Bucky tried to stay close to Steve but at certain point he got tangled up with those alien dogs and lost sight of him. Sam informed him that the big bad purple alien, Thanos, was in the woods, although Sam didn’t exactly see Steve, Bucky knew that was where Steve was. Steve had a thing for getting into fight with people - or aliens - much bigger his size.
Bucky saw Thor come diving down from the sky, leaving a bright trail behind him. Maybe this was gonna end. He thought absentmindedly. He kept running and running, finally he saw Steve, knocking down an alien dog with his new shield.
Something happened, something Bucky couldn’t voice, he felt so light all of sudden, like he could be blown into the sky with a zephyr. His fingers felt...well, he couldn’t feel it so he looked.
“Steve...?”
That was the last image Steve saw of Bucky: walking towards him, confused, his metal arm disintegrating before the entirety of him turned into dust and smashed into the ground.
“oh god.” he murmured.
5.
Natasha should’ve known Steve was not as strong as he appeared to be. She, of all people, should’ve known.
“what the fuck, Rogers?” she snatched the razor blade out of his hand, the blade cut into her palm, drawing out some blood. Their blood mixed together.
Steve didn’t look mad that Natasha had interrupted whatever he was doing, he just look tired. “I wasn’t gonna..you know, kill myself.”
“We will get them back somehow.” her voice was so weak even herself didn’t believe in those words. She used to be so good at lying. It’s been 5 years. 5 years of chaos and despair and zero progress. “come on, don’t give up on me.”
Steve just stared at his bloody arms. It’s already started to heal, the dove grew back unharmed. Figured. “I’m tired, Nat. I’m so tired. I don’t want to fight anymore.”
“OK.” she cooed, carefully holding Steve in her arms like she would a wild beast, “You don’t have to fight anymore. It’s OK.”
Steve just remained still. He didn’t push away or lean in. He was just, there, an empty corpse of a man.
Steve Rogers had two soulmate marks. One from 1945, when Bucky fell off the train, a dove appeared in his right forearm. One from 2017, when Bucky turned into dust like millions did after the snap, a white star manifested on his left shoulder.
Steve Rogers had lost his soulmate twice, both times before his eyes. Natasha couldn’t blame him for wanting to stop. If he stopped, he probably wouldn’t get Bucky back, but he would definitely never lose him again.
Natasha slipped some sedatives in Steve’s water and put him to sleep for a while so she could get her head straight. She hadn’t lost her soulmate, she didn’t even know if she had one at all, but she’d lost so many people, friends, not just the ones that were snapped but people like Steve, who’d given up, who’d retreated far out her reach, people like Clint, who’d turned grieve into anger, turned himself into someone he himself couldn’t recognize.
She wrapped gauze around her palm haphazardly. It didn’t hurt as much as she’d remembered.
Natasha was tired too.
12 hours later, tony was back. 74 hours later, the 3 science guys and a racoon announced that they were going to build a time machine. 80 hours later, Clint changed into one of his old SHIELD training shirt.
Natasha was hopeful, but there was no more fight in her left.
She hoped her sacrifice could pay off, then maybe Steve would be OK. She hoped Clint would forgive her one day. She hoped that she wasn’t Clint’s soulmate.
Because, to be honest, the whole soulmate thing sucked.
6.
Bucky’s phone buzzed at precisely 1:28 am, April 9th, 2043.
“He’s gone.” came Hill’s voice.
Bucky thanked her, hung up, called Sam, laid in bed with his eyes fixed on the light on the ceiling until the sun rose. He got up, took an shower, picked the suit he reserved for special occasions and headed to SWORD.
Bucky Barnes had two soulmate marks. One from 1934, when Steve quite literally work himself to death, a star on his left shoulder, one that was sawed off him with his entire arm, one that he drew back just to be scratched off. One from 1945, when Steve crushed the Valkyrie into the no man land of north pole, another star took place right above his heart.
Bucky Barnes had lost his soulmate twice, he’s got nothing to lose anymore.