Work Text:
“Don’t do anything stupid till I get back.”
“How could I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”
***
He wrapped the bandage tighter around his hand, stopping the blood from seeping through. Bucky walked back to the punching bag, hitting it with renewed vigor.
His vision blurred, and he wiped his eyes, blocking out the emotions.
Inhale.
Exhale.
The rhythm was natural, even when nothing else in his life was. Bucky sank into a pattern, his mind going on autopilot.
He didn’t know how much time had passed. How long since he had stood there, knowing full well that Steve wasn’t coming back. Knowing that he had abandoned him, just like everyone else.
Bucky sank to his knees, the fight drained out of him. Instantly, Alpine rubbed against his leg, and he scratched the cat absentmindedly.
He almost wished Steve hadn’t told him. Hadn’t eased the blow. Bucky almost laughed at that. Like the person he loved telling him that he was abandoning him could be eased.
He didn’t hold it against Steve, much as he wanted to. He just wished he knew why. Why he had chosen her. Steve barely knew Peggy. Was she really worth throwing away everyone he cared about, everyone that loved him?
No, Bucky thought spitefully, getting to his feet. She wasn’t.
And I wasn’t worth enough to make him stay.
The realization hit him like a train. Hot tears pricked at his eyelids, and he shook his head angrily. Bucky yanked open the sliding door to his balcony, looking outside.
He gripped the railing so hard his knuckles were turning white, and he left indentations in the metal.
Alpine followed him outside, rubbing against his legs and purring.
“Not now, girl,” he muttered, more to himself than to the cat. Still, Bucky picked Alpine up, scratching under her neck. She purred contentedly, seeming to be the only solace in his shattered world.
The events of the day kept replaying in his head. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, trying to prevent the flashes. The night before, when Steve had told him of his intentions. Having to play it off like his entire world wasn’t falling to pieces. And that feeling of emptiness when Steve stepped onto the platform, Bucky knowing full well his best friend, his – everything – wasn’t ever coming back.
End of the line my ass.
His grip loosened on the railing and he opened his eyes, blinking back tears. He set Alpine down softly, her paws padding against the floor. He leaned against the railing, cold wind biting at his skin.
There was a knock at the door, but Bucky ignored it. It wasn’t important. It didn’t matter. No one mattered any more. No one.
They knocked again, more insistently this time. There was a click, and the door swung open. Bucky sighed, not turning around. He leaned against the balcony, watching cars pass by, gaging the distance of the drop. He wasn’t going to jump. It was all theoretical. Right?
“Buck…”
Bucky couldn’t breathe. His heart stuttered. He flipped around at the sound of the voice, unable to believe his ears. Steve. His Steve. Bucky blinked, expecting him to disappear. Vanish like he always did when things got hard.
He didn’t.
Steve Rogers was leaning against the door of the balcony, hands shoved in his pockets and hair hanging in his face. “I shouldn’t have gone.”
The words cut deeper than any knife. The simple truth hung in the air like a live wire, charged with electricity neither wanted to address. Bucky couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t believe he was there. Steve didn’t move. Didn’t come closer. He just stood there, waiting. Patiently waiting.
Bucky took a deep breath, crossing his arms over his chest and forcing himself to look at Steve. Really look at him, memorize every detail of his face. Before he disappeared again.
Bucky exhaled before speaking. “Why?” he asked, still staring at him, still not believing he was real, he was there, he was back. “Thought you wanted your…white picket fence, dance with Peggy.”
Steve shook his head, shrugging. “I thought I did too. But…” he looked over at Bucky again, swallowing hard. He extended a hand. “I didn’t. She…wasn’t who I wanted to dance with,” he finished with a weak smile. His voice was low, shaky, having none of the usual Captain America confidence he spoke with. This was real, this was Steve Rogers, not the persona.
Bucky stared at him, breathing turning shallow as realization dawned on him. “...What?” he whispered, disbelieving. His heart hammered in his chest as he stared at Steve like he was the only thing in the world.
Steve just nodded, not speaking for a moment as if deciding whether he should, whether he even had the right to. He swallowed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s you, Buck. It’s always been you. I just…didn’t see it.”
Bucky shook his head, stepping away, back against the railing. “No.”
Steve dropped his hand. “No?”
Bucky swallowed hard, the word hanging between them. He hadn’t meant for it to come out like that – sharp, defensive, panicked. But Steve took it like a punch.
The smile slid off his face, and when he spoke his voice was lower, quieter. “If you don’t…feel the same, just say the word. I’ll go.”
“No,” Bucky said again, shaking his head. “It’s not that.”
“So…” Steve trailed off, face hopeful.
“It’s not that,” Bucky repeated. “You left me. Chose her.” His voice broke. “You…you weren’t there when I needed you.” Bucky finished, eyes rimmed red.
“I’m sorry,” Steve said.
Empty words.
“You promised,” Bucky said. “End of the line.”
Steve met his gaze, and his eyes were glistening with tears. “I know. I—” His voice faltered, words catching in his throat. Steve sniffed, shaking with sobs. “I’m sorry, Buck. I’m so, so sorry.” He turned away, wiping his eyes. And Bucky felt like his heart was going to break. All the anger, all the hatred, everything twisted up inside him…it was too much.
Bucky put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey.”
Steve turned.
Bucky swallowed hard. “You’re here now.” He said it more to himself than to Steve, like a mantra almost.
Steve collapsed into him, wrapping his arms around Bucky. Bucky flinched at first, shocked and a little bit hurt. He didn’t trust the ground under his feet. Then he inhaled, just breathing it in. He pulled Steve close, burying his face in his shoulder, tears threatening to fall.
“I love you,” Steve said softly, gripping the back of Bucky’s shirt.
The words didn’t hit him all at once. They sank in slowly, like raindrops on a windowsill. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe. His heart stuttered.
He pulled back, looking into Steve’s eyes.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” Bucky said, voice shaking.
Steve shook his head. “I do mean it.”
Bucky searched his face, looking for a flicker of doubt, uncertainty, anything. Steve looked back at him, holding his gaze. “I love you, Buck,” he whispered.
The words slipped out before he could stop them. “Don’t leave me again.”
Steve shook his head. “I won’t. I promise.”
Bucky dropped his gaze, staring at his shoes. Alpine rubbed against his leg, purring slightly. “How do you know? How do I know I can trust you? Because – because I can’t, Steve. I can’t. You left. There’s no changing that. You can’t just come in here and expect to make everything right. You chose a life without me.”
Steve nodded shakily and swallowed hard. “I know. And you’re right. I – I fucked up. Big time.” He laughed without humor. “I should’ve never stepped onto that platform.”
“You’re damn right,” Bucky muttered under his breath.
Steve exhaled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I know there’s no changing that. No amount of apologies will fix it. But…I’m here,” he finished weakly, a sad smile playing at his lips.
The silence that followed felt more dangerous than any gun. Steve shifted, a lone tear running down his cheek. Bucky was standing stone-still, staring at his shoes.
He didn’t trust himself to move, to speak, to do anything.
“...Buck…?” The word slipped from Steve’s mouth involuntarily, shakily, sounding more like a plea than a nickname.
That’s what broke him. Something inside him shattered, splintered, cracked. And it hurt more than anything HYDRA had ever put him through.
Bucky nodded slowly, then faster, eyes blurring with tears. “I love you,” he finally said, voice breaking. “God, I’ve loved you since we were kids, Stevie.” He shook his head now, wiping his eyes. “I just…I don’t know. I don’t know if I can do this…I don’t know if we can do this. You…you left.”
“I know,” Steve said quietly. “I hate myself for it.”
“Don’t.” Bucky shook his head. “It’s not worth it. Hating yourself…it’s not going to solve anything. Trust me, I know.” He laughed bitterly. “I can’t…I don’t know if I can…I…guess I wasn’t enough to keep you here.” He turned away, holding back tears.
Steve paled. “No. No, no, no. That’s not…no. Buck, I was chasing the life I thought I wanted, I thought I was supposed to have. But…I wanted…I want you, jerk. You’re home.”
Bucky let out an audible gasp, his vision blurring with tears. Alpine purred at his feet, rubbing against his pant leg. Bucky opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He leaned down, petting the cat’s soft fur with a shaky hand.
Steve didn’t say anything. He just waited, just watched, just listened.
“Just…stay,” Bucky finally said, hardly trusting himself to speak.
“I will.”