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It had been so long. Too long. Two hundred thirty five years, six months, and four days to be exact. Bucky had watched helplessly that day as Steve died, shot down on the battlefield during the American Revolution. In that moment, as he watched Steve fall, he had known he would be alone and grieving forever. Literally.
But then, a few decades later, he saw Steve again. But he’d fucked it up that time. He’d ran up to him, tears in his eyes, gushing about how he couldn’t believe his eyes, how he’d seen Steve die, how was he alive, and oh, how much he’d missed him. But this Steve didn’t remember him, he backed away in a panic, and Bucky had had to run for it before Steve could sic the police on him.
So Bucky started to research. He found every book and story he could about reincarnation and committed it all to memory, swearing that next time, he wouldn’t ruin it.
It was another few decades before he found Steve again. This time, he approached him as he would a stranger. Over the next few months, their relationship grew, and though this Steve didn’t remember the relationship they had had in his previous life, he could tell there was a connection, that he and Bucky were meant to be. But it didn’t last. They weren’t careful enough and Steve was arrested. Bucky miraculously escaped, but stayed in town so he could keep an eye on Steve. Then one day, he heard the news: Steve had fallen ill in prison and died. Bucky had lost him again.
Consumed by his grief, Bucky lost the will to search for Steve. He knew now that no matter what he did, he would only lose him again. Years went by. Decades. The world changed around him, but Bucky stayed the same. Steve had probably lived dozens of lives by now, but Bucky couldn’t bring himself to be a part of any of them. He couldn’t keep losing Steve.
He had found him by chance once or twice, passed him on the street or seen him in a store. But he never approached him. Just watched sadly from a distance as Steve went about his business. But these encounters were few and far between. Bucky went decades without seeing even a glimpse of Steve, and he wasn’t sure whether this was a blessing or a curse.
But now. The year was 2016 and this time… this time, if things worked out, they wouldn’t have to hide. Bucky hesitated, watching as Steve sat down with his coffee and pulled out a little sketch book. Nostalgia tugged at his heartstrings as he took in the sight of Steve Rogers, a pencil held between his teeth, frowning to himself as he decided what to draw. The scene was so familiar, though the setting was never the same.
The barista handed over his coffee and Bucky took it with a quiet “thank you”, then turned his attention back to Steve. Bucky took a sip of his drink, ignoring the fact that it scalded his tongue, then marched over to Steve’s table, his heart hammering anxiously.
“Hi,” he said. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“Not at all,” said Steve, gesturing to the seat across from him with a smile that made Bucky’s heart soar.
“I’m Bucky, by the way. Bucky Barnes.”
“Steve Rogers.”
There was a brief silence.
“You seem oddly familiar,” said Steve. “Have we met before?”
Bucky gave him a lopsided little smile.
“Maybe in a past life.”