Actions

Work Header

all the words left unsaid (it's too late now)

Summary:

the night before steve goes back to get his happy ending, he tells bucky what he's going to do.
good luck

Notes:

conceptually this takes place the night/morning ig since its 1am before my other work "the mathematical definition of a line states that it has no endpoints" - feel free to read it in succession w that one bc that has a happy ending, or just read this straight up and enjoy the canon the directors gave us.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

I needed to sleep. 

It was late. Too late. Or…early. I didn’t know anymore. The clock read 1:04 am. I was still awake. I didn’t know why. Well, I did. There’s only so much sleep a guy can get when he’s reliving all his worst memories every time he closes his eyes.

There it was again. The sarcasm. I winced, shaking my head. My therapist wouldn’t appreciate it. But she wasn’t here right now. No one was. Except Alpine, curled up at the foot of my bed. Gotta love that damn cat.

I pulled myself to my feet, opening the door. Not sure why. I just wasn’t going to lay there anymore. It was pointless.

I headed downstairs, one hand on the railing. I didn’t bother turning on any lights. One, because I didn’t want to wake up anyone who might actually have been sleeping, and two, because I liked the darkness. Always have. 

I walked into the kitchen, opening the cabinet and pulling out a glass. I filled it in the sink, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of the water. It didn’t help. I dragged a hand through my dark hair – it had gotten a bit too long for my liking, but I hadn’t had the time to get it cut, what with missing another five years of my life. A hundred and six years I’ve been alive, but how many of those have I actually lived?

The light flicked overhead, illuminating the room with a dull brightness. I glanced up, rubbing my eyes. 

“Thought you’d be up,” Steve said, one hand on the doorframe and a crooked grin on his face. His blond hair hung in his face, giving him a rougher look than usual. He didn’t look like America’s Golden Boy anymore. 

I laughed without humor. “Always.” I paused. “What are you doing awake?”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, taking a few steps closer. He sighed, not quite meeting my eyes. “Can we talk?”

I blinked, my pulse stuttering. My heart thudded in my ears. Was he finally – could he – maybe – I swallowed hard, forcing down the hope that had built up in my chest. “Yeah,” I managed to say, my mind racing. 

Steve didn’t seem to notice a thing. “About tomorrow.” He glanced at the clock. “Well, today, now, I guess.” He laughed thinly. 

I nodded, not sure where he was going with this. “Yeah?”

Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. “When I return the stones. I’m…not coming back.”

I froze. 

The words took a second to sink in.

Then it was like the floor had been ripped out from under me. I was falling all over again. Down, down, down. 

“...What?” was all I could say. Hot tears filled my eyes, but I forced them back. Not here, not now.

He just nodded. “I’m staying in the past, Buck. Getting the life I never had.”

The life he never had. I almost laughed. Both of us, boys torn from our time, torn from everyone we loved. Except for each other. End of the line, he had said. Guess that was a lie now.

“Why?” I asked, the word laced with pain. So much pain. The pain of having the person you love tell you they’re abandoning you. It makes a gunshot feel good. 

Steve looked away, a faint redness on his cheeks. 

My stomach rolled, nausea sweeping over me like a giant wave. Hatred, jealousy, rage twisted up my spine. But I managed to smile. “Peggy?” I asked, her name making me sick. I didn’t hate her. I never had. She was kind, loyal, and had a good heart – all qualities I loved. But the thought of Steve – my Steve – staying with her cut me deeper than any blade. 

He flinched as if surprised, then nodded after a second, smiling softly. “Yeah.”

Silence filled the room, a silence I didn’t dare to break. I held my breath, fighting tears. 

Then Steve spoke. “I was going to ask you–”

I knew what he was going to say. I had known it from the moment he’d told me he was leaving. I shook my head, cutting him off. “I’m not going back with you.”

Steve flinched slightly, his expression replaced with something new. Disappointment, maybe? I didn’t know, and frankly I didn’t care either. “Okay,” he said softly. 

God, I wanted to. I would have, too. I would follow Steve Rogers into the depths of hell without a word of dissent. But I couldn’t follow him here. Not this time. I couldn’t do that to myself. I couldn’t watch Steve get his happy ending with the girl he loves while I stay in the shadows, wishing it was me. 

Steve glanced up, nodding slightly. “I understand,” he said, though his voice shook. “I’ll…I’ll miss you, Buck.”

I forgot how to breathe. I hated Steve Rogers in that moment. Hated how I would do anything for him. Hated how much he meant to me. Hated how I loved him more than life itself. 

My eyes flicked to his lips. Stupid, stupid. I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to kiss him – pull him close and never let go, never let him leave. Because I needed him. God, I was so close – all I had to do was reach out, take two steps, meet his lips with my own – but I couldn’t. Not now, not ever.

I turned my head, wiping my eyes with the back of my sleeve. I could see the worry in Steve’s face. “I’ll…I’ll miss you too, punk,” I said with a small laugh. 

A thin smirk appeared on Steve’s face. “Jerk.”

I fought a snicker, though tears filled my eyes. I ran a hand through my hair, sighing softly. Steve shifted his feet, concern in his face. 

“You alright?” he asked quietly.

I almost laughed. Was I alright? My world had just been shattered. Yeah, I was fucking great. “I’m fine,” I muttered, trying not to let the bitterness slip into my voice. 

Steve didn’t buy it, I could tell, but I didn’t care. I turned away, unable to hold back the tears anymore. I set the glass of water in the sink, looking anywhere but at him. “I’m gonna try and get some sleep,” I muttered, the words sounding hollow. “G’night.”

“Night,” Steve replied. 

I brushed past him and headed upstairs, shaking my head. My vision was blurred with tears. I opened the door to my room, hardly believing anything. Maybe when I wake up tomorrow this will all just be a bad dream. Even as I thought that, I knew it was a lie. Steve was leaving, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. 

It was only when I had shut the bedroom door and collapsed on my mattress, Alpine curled up next to me, when I let myself cry. One stubborn thought clawed its way to the surface: What happened to “end of the line”? 




Notes:

ow sorry that was painful i got bored