Chapter Text
Word Count: 1150
CH1: BUCKY
Darkness. Clouded in darkness. Bucky knew the risks he was taking. He knew he’d face his past. The past he could barely remember. It was loud, and bright. Then there was nothing. There was nothing but a void.
A cough caught his attention. The radio. It’s 1938 again. Bucky looks, and he sees his old apartment. The coughing continues, but he’s not coughing. Steve is. He rushes into the room, looking at him.
“Stevie..”
“Hey Buck…”
“You need soup, and medicine.” Bucky was looking anxiously at the smaller main, worried he’d truly die again this time.
“You know I can’t afford that stuff, Buck.”
“Steve please. I’ll cover it. Don’t die on me. I can’t lose you.”
Another cough, and he couldn’t take it. His best friend, the person he went to war for. The love of his life. He was going to lose him again. He couldn’t lose Steve, he was his everything. He was in 1938, and he was in 2023, when Steve left again. He quickly grabbed his keys, kissing Steve’s forehead in a quick goodbye, and out the door.
The kitchen again, another sickly cough. He was just here–why is it replaying–why can’t he leave? He tried the door again, and again found himself in the kitchen, Steve’s newspaper stuffed shoes by the table. He can’t do it. He can’t watch Steve die. He saw their window, he knew it was dumb, and he knew it would hurt. He ran, slammed his shoulder into the window, and down he went.
“Buck, c’mon!” A voice. Steve’s voice. He’d almost forgotten what Steve sounded like when he was still there.
Bucky heard it first, then he saw it. He was on the train. God this fucking sucked last time he had done it, now he has to experience it again. He was cold, then he was gone. That’s how it went.
“I’m with you till the end of the line, Steve. I’m right behind you, don’t worry.”
Bucky still jumped into the train car, and still helped Steve, knowing how it’ll go this time. He did it because he knew Steve needed help. Even if he didn’t help, he knew it’d end badly anyways. He could never redo what had happened, and he could never escape what he did. Hydra shot at them, and he shot back. Into traincar after traincar, following Steve. He meant it, when he told Steve he was with him till the end of the line. He knew Steve wouldn’t ask if he didn't trust they’d win. He knew Steve, the ‘blond boyscout’ everyone thought he was. Not his Steve, not the one he knew. Steve was loud, and open, and political. He wouldn’t be fighting if he didn’t believe in it. Steve would personally fistfight god (if the two of them believed in one) or the government for what he believed in. Steve Rogers would sooner lay down his life for something than let a bad guy win. That was his Steve.
The door slides closed. Steve looks at him–fear in his gentle blue eyes–The explosion happens. He grabs the rail of the torn off door, ice cold wind hitting his face and freezing his fingers. He can feel the metal creak under him, and yet he still reaches for Steve. He’s so close. He can make it this time. He knows it. He tries to scoot over. The metal creaks. He won’t make it. He knows he won’t. He’s replayed the scene thousands of times. His fingers brush Steve’s; a final moment of hope and the warmth of his lover. And he falls. His arm hits a rock, tearing into his shoulder. The snow was cold beneath him, and his arm was losing feeling. He knows this is it. The last time he saw Steve for 70 years. The last time he felt truly human. The last time he wasn’t a monster.
It was dark out. He was on a motorcycle on an empty highway. Where is he going? Why doesn’t he remember this mission? A car’s taillights come into view. What is he after? Maybe the better question was who…
A voice through his ear piece, gentle yet incredibly firm.
“Remember. Get the serum, leave no witnesses.”
It was Rostova. His old mentor. He was in 1991 again. He recognized the highway quickly, the cold December air biting against his cheekbones. He pulled his gun. He didn’t want to do this, he knew who it was hurting now. He shot the tires.
Sliding off his bike, he walked to the crashed car. Maria in the passenger seat, crying. Howard’s blood dripping down the side of his face. He couldn’t kill them again. Not now. He knew Howard. They were friends, they stole a jeep together. He shot Maria, her sobs stopping as the sound silenced the forest. He looked at Howard, then at the trunk of the car. He ripped it open, grabbed the case of serum, and set it on his bike. He glanced at the older man, knowing this would forever change how his life would play out.
“Sargent Barnes…?” The confused voice rang out, looking at Bucky. The trigger was pulled, and they were gone.
“Targets eliminated, serum secure.” It was his voice, but it sounded so cold, and harsh. So much like the soldier he swore off from being. He hated that he could hear this. He got back onto the bike, driving straight into the river.
Darkness again. Back to the void. Into new horrors. He needed to find his team, but he’s stuck. The new scene fades into a start. He’s being held down.
A chair. Arm restraints. Hydra. His arm hurts, even though it's gone. The metal is cold against his back. He can feel the room around him, even though he can’t see. His eyes are covered by a cold dark cloth. He can’t place this memory. Not that he wanted to, but he couldn’t. He’s not on a mission, he knows that much. It’s a hydra base, that he knows for sure.
A door clicked open. Rostova’s voice began to speak.
“He’s ready.” Ready for what? What’s happening to him?
Heels clicked against the cold floor, but those weren’t his handlers heels, she didn’t wear heels. The clicking came to a stop, presumably in front of him. He heard soft murmurs between them, intentionally leaving him out. He was having a harder time focusing. What happened to him? He knows this was after he was captured, and after he was forced into submission. He can’t figure out when this was. He felt a hand on his bicep, the human one. Slender fingers trailed down his arm, stopping at his hand.
“Oh he will do nicely.” The voice called out, and he heard a grunt in response, and Rostova’s heavy boots walked away.
The door closed shut, and the kissing started.