Chapter Text
It all comes to a head after months of searching, months of trying to stay away. It’s night, and it’s raining, and they are on some alley in some city, doesn’t really matter which one. They are all the same for the purpose in hand.
This time neither one of them is running, neither one of them is chasing.
“You need to stop.” Bucky’s voice is rough, even, not betraying a single emotion
Steve tries to match, doesn’t manage it very well. He sounds shaky even to his own ears. “What do you mean?”
“Stop following me.”
It’s a request that’s not unexpected, or even uncommunicated. Steve well knows what it means that Bucky has run every time he got close. But, “I don’t think I can do that.”
“You need to stop or I will make you stop.”
“Buck —”
”Why do you even bother? Go have a life, stop wasting it looking for me.” Now the evenness cracks, and there’s anger, maybe a stepping stone into something.
“This is not wasting it.”
“Yes it is, because it’ll never lead to anything.”
“That’s not true, you can stop, you can come back with me.”
“No, I can’t. Stop deluding yourself, it’ll never be the same it was.” This right here is the crux, isn’t it? The one thing Bucky can’t overcome.
“I don’t expect it to be the same, just come back with me.” And this is the truth for Steve, but his truths cannot be everyone’s truths.
“Didn’t you hear me, I can’t . It won’t work. As long as you come after me, all I can do is run.”
“And you don’t want to run anymore.” Now, finally, understanding comes to Steve. Maybe he knew before, but refused to acknowledge it, because he didn’t want the consequences. But now he sees, and that’s why he prepares to do the one thing he swore to himself he’d never do.
“That’s why I’m telling you to stop.”
The silence between them grows, there’s only the patter of rain, and the muffled nightly noises of the city. Heartbeat loud in Steve’s ears.
“Okay.” Just one word, and it’s the right word, he knows it is. And yet it breaks his heart to say it.
“Go live your life.”
Bucky turns and starts walking away, and Steve stays on his spot, stepping on every instinct he has that’s screaming at him not to do this, that it’s wrong. He steps on them, because all of those instincts are selfish. But there is one bit of hope left, and maybe he only asks the question so that it can die down too.
“Will you come back?”
“No.”