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In hindsight, Steve couldn't call himself anything but stupid.
Blind maybe. But he did see it. So he wasn't really blind.
He was simply stupid.
And it wasn't a sudden realization one day. More like a gradual shift, slowly becoming clearer and clearer every day.
And it wasn't like Bucky was doing anything much different. He was still the old Bucky. Maybe that's why Steve had been so stupid.
Because what wasn't Bucky if not overprotective and ever caring of Steve.
Back when they were kids, Bucky would always make sure that Steve had enough to eat. That he had the bigger part of the blanket and the warmer water for his bath.
So when they got older, it never came as a surprise whenever Bucky would push his food onto Steve's plate and told him to eat.
Any attempt of complaining from Steve just got answered with an eyeroll and a 'You need it more than me.'
It reached the point, where Bucky would not even put anything on his own plate, saying that he wasn't hungry so that Steve wouldn't have a reason to complain about being the only one with food. Which was a big fat lie, because who wasn't always hungry back then?
He worried, of course, that Bucky was seemingly not eating. But whenever he brought it up, or gave Bucky a plate of food after he came home from work, Bucky would simply push it away and claim that he already ate while he was out.
Which was ridiculous. Bucky didn't have that kind of money to be buying himself lunch every day. They were already barely scraping by as it was.
But whenever Steve brought that part up, Bucky would shake his head and say that a colleague bought it for him. Which also seemed ridiculous, because who would do that? But Steve didn't exactly have any more ammunition against that argument. And accusing Bucky of lying just got them into more arguments that they didn't want to be in.
Steve was one hell of a stubborn guy, but unfortunately so was Bucky. And that made every argument just lead to a dead end, with both of them mad and no resolution found.
So Steve reluctantly accepted it as the truth, shut his damn mouth and stopped bringing it up.
He could tell that Bucky was lying though.
For one, he simply knew Bucky long and well enough.
But the most obvious clue was his body. Whenever Steve was pressed up against Bucky in bed, he could feel the way Bucky slowly but surely got skinnier. Bucky had always been a lean guy, but now he began to feel more and more like Steve himself. Ribs ever present, hip bones sharp and pointy, even the work he was doing at the docks didn't seem to keep his arms from losing their muscles.
Steve also noticed how Bucky was always watching Steve in a weird way. Not how he used to watch him draw or cook or when he was horny and would look at Steve with those sinful eyes. This was different. Bucky would glance over while sitting next to Steve on the couch, stare at Steve's thighs for a while and then he'd pull his own legs up to his chest and curl up as small as possible. Things like that kept happening. Bucky seemingly comparing himself to Steve and for some damn reason being unhappy about it. Why in the world would Bucky be upset about not looking like Steve? Steve was sick and weak and all the negative adjectives that someone could think of. Why would anyone wanna be that?
Steve unfortunately had no answer for that, and Bucky refused to give him one.
Then whenever they were in bed, Bucky splayed out beautifully beneath Steve, Bucky would always ask these questions. He'd always say 'You think I'm pretty, Stevie?'. And Steve would say yes, of course. Because that was the truth. Because no one on this planet was prettier than his Bucky. And Bucky would get this glint in his eyes, sparkling with happiness, and Steve thought that maybe that would help. Telling Bucky what he needed to hear. That maybe Bucky would realize that he didn't need to change to be beautiful.
Well. As Steve said. He was stupid.
It didn't help.
In fact, Steve now realized that it only made things worse.
What he could have said instead though, Steve had no idea.
Telling Bucky that he wasn't beautiful? Just staying silent? Saying that Bucky used to be more beautiful back in the day?
Those all seemed like the wrong answers.
Well, not like it mattered now. He couldn't change how it happened.
Then when Bucky went off to war, Steve got even more worried. Now he couldn't even be by Bucky's side to keep an eye on him anymore.
Steve just kept clinging to the hope that his superiors would make him eat so that he'd stay strong for the war. Or something like that.
On his own tours, he noticed some things about the girls he performed with. Things that seemed so Bucky. The lying about food, the constant looks in the mirror, the glances at the other girls that were a fraction skinnier.
Again, Steve had no idea how to react. Was there even anything he could do? He was helpless against his best friend, what could he do for some girls that were basically strangers.
He wanted to ask them for help. Wanted to hear their thoughts, so that he might be able to understand Bucky a bit better.
After trying it oncqe and ending up with a slap across the cheek and a drink in his face, he gave it up.
Then the first opportunity he got, he followed Bucky. He would always follow him. To the end of the world.
Which was what he did, marching solo into enemy territory on the other side of the world with nothing but a prop and a fake helmet.
Steve couldn't even describe the relief he felt when he heard Bucky muttering his numbers on some table.
He wasn't well, obviously, but at least he was still alive. Steve hadn't failed him yet. He hadn't lost him. Yet.
The only issue with his own growth spurt was that he now couldn't tell if Bucky had gotten worse, or if it was just because he seemed so much smaller in relation to how he used to tower over Steve.
There was a bit more muscle on his bones, Steve dared to hope.
But when they were safely back at base, Steve could tell that he wasn't the only one who'd changed.
Not just physically.
Bucky acted stranger than before, always begging Steve to keep the lights off under the guise of not wanting to get caught. But Steve could tell that it wasn't about that. Bucky never cared before, always been the reckless one who loved to steal kisses in public and who moaned just a little too loud for the fact that their apartment walls were basically made of paper.
His eyes got more desperate whenever he asked if he was pretty. But they lost their sparkle whenever Steve would say yes. He stopped believing him.
Steve didn't understand, he didn't know what more to say, what more to do.
During dinner or breakfast or whatever they currently had time for out in the field, Steve would shove a ration into Bucky's hands and tell him to eat.
Of course Bucky kept shaking his head and saying that he wasn't hungry. But Steve didn't let that slide anymore.
He'd even abuse his authority, tell Bucky that as his Captain he was ordering him to eat and get some strength for the next day. And he'd watch, make sure that Bucky, although very reluctantly, ate every last bite.
Bucky glared at Steve throughout every meal. Sometimes he'd just get up and walk into the woods, claiming that he had to take a piss. Only sometimes Steve let him go.
Bucky wasn't very happy about it.
Generally his whole mood seemed to sour over time. Every day that passed, Bucky looked sadder and more frustrated.
Steve tried what he could. When they spent the night shift watching the fire together, he'd scoot closer and stroke the back of two fingers over Bucky's cold face. He'd say 'You're so beautiful.' He'd whisper 'I love you so much.'
It didn't matter. Bucky would still shrink into himself, not even looking at Steve. His shaking hands would clench in his lap as he just continued to stare out into the fire. And he'd just stay silent. No more smiles. No more sparkle.
Steve was at a loss.
Day after day he'd watch the man he loved wither away.
And nothing he did helped.
Then that day. When Bucky was clinging to the railing of the speeding train.
He looked so broken and weak.
Steve reached for him as best as he could.
But there was something in Bucky's eyes, he was sure of it. A short little flash, but Steve saw it.
Bucky didn't fall.
He let go.
Steve was sure of it.
He always said he'd follow Bucky to the end of the world. And that had always been true. But suddenly it wasn't anymore.
Because Bucky was gone and Steve was still here.
He pushed the heels of his hand against his eyes until it hurt. Not that it stopped the tears.
"You believe it was your fault."
She didn't say it like a question, more like she already knew the answer.
Steve inhaled shakily and let his hands fall back to the table.
"Of course it was," he replied, reaching for another bottle of something that wouldn't affect him.
Peggy tilted her head, looking at him with her lips pursed and an analyzing glint in her eyes.
"What could you have done differently? Better?" she asked after a moment.
Steve shrugged, taking a long swig of his bottle. It burned down his throat, but that was all he felt from it. He really resented his serum at this moment.
"I don't know. Everything. Anything."
Peggy sighed, folding her hands together.
"So tell me. What did you do wrong?"
Steve shrugged. "I- maybe I shouldn't have pushed him so hard. Maybe I shouldn't have forced him to eat. Maybe I should have..." he trailed off.
"Let him starve to death?" Peggy finished for him, raising her eyebrow.
Fine. She had him there.
But that didn't mean that it wasn't his fault. Because it was.
"I shouldn't have let him on that mission. I knew he wasn't well. And I almost had him. I swear I felt his fingers touch mine. And then he just slipped away. I should've gone right after him. At least then I'd still be with him."
He clenched his fingers, the grazing touch of Bucky's hand still burned like a scar.
Silence hung in the air as Peggy contemplated her next words.
"This wasn't your fault. There was absolutely nothing you could have done, Steve."
She watched him for a second.
"That's what's getting to you, isn't it? Nothing would have changed what happened. You had no control over it."
Again, she had him.
She was right. He couldn't have changed anything.
But he should have. God damnit he should have.
He should have saved him.
He should have kept following him to the end of the world, just like he always did.
"I loved him," Steve said, his voice breaking halfway through and so did his face.
A sob tore out of him and he hunched over, tears now flowing freely again.
He felt Peggy's hand on his a moment later.
"I'm sorry," she said sincerely, "as much as we wish it were possible, love can't heal someone. It can help, of course, but..."
"It's not enough," Steve finished for her weakly, swallowing past the lump in his throat.
His eyes burned as he watched her nod.
"It's not enough."