Moments like these are times when Bucky tries to remember the five grounding techniques that Shuri taught him the first time he had a panic attack in Wakanda.
Sight: The first thing you can see. Back then it had been how green the grass had been, tall enough that it brushed up against the back of his knees. In the present moment it was the vast expanse of the ugly white panels that made up the ceiling.
Touch: He had held on to Shuri's hand as she helped Bucky keep his breathing steady. When he reached out now there was no hand for Bucky to grab, all his hand felt was the scratchy material of the gown he wore.
Sound: Bucky could hear the sound of the wind blowing through the tree's. He listened as Shuri counted down from ten as he tried to match his heartbeat to the speed and tone of her voice. Now all Bucky could hear was the static sound of the fluorescent lights, the unsteady beeping of the oxygen machine that he was hooked up to.
Smell: The natural elements that surrounded Bucky while he was in Wakanda had quickly become one of his new favorite scents. If Bucky had to make a list now, Brooklyn hotdogs and his baby doll were the other top contenders, not in that order of course. Back in the present, all Bucky could smell was the overwhelming scent of the harsh hospital chemicals they used to clean and he wished on everything he believed in to be back in Wakanda at that moment.
Taste: It had been the taste of the clean air that had brought Bucky out of his panic attack. Bucky couldn't remember being able to breathe that good in what felt like forever. Not when he was a child playing with his sister Rebecca running through dirt ridden alleyways. Not while kissing Steve behind pillars that no one could see around, falling in love with him and not being able to tell the world that Steve Rogers was his. Not while watching Steve fall in love with someone else. Not while enlisting into the war, fighting for his country and ultimately being kidnapped and brainwashed to fight for the other side. In that moment in time, breathing in the Wakanda air, Bucky felt as if he was finally living his life. Now all Bucky could taste was the metallicness of his blood as a coughing fit wracked through his body.
The wizards had been wrong.
They had all thought that the super soldier serum that ran through Bucky's veins made him immune to Harry's HIV. The technology wasn't picking up what was really happening however. It had been rapidly spreading the virus, not immunizing it. It had happened so quickly that the wizards and Tony's tech couldn't observe it happening until it was too late.
Bucky contracted it from Harry and like a wildfire it spread and destroyed everything in its path.
Bucky thought back to the night he'd gotten it. His lover had looked so gorgeous, hands grasping the bed sheets, back arched as Bucky slowly moved in and out of Harry as they made love. The sweet moans that had come out of his babydoll that night would forever be engraved in Bucky's mind.
When Harry had shuddered at his completion, wrecked "I love you's" and Bucky's name came spilling from his baby doll's mouth, Bucky had a moment of complete bliss. Harry had finally put his trust in him by letting Bucky top, normally Bucky was the bottom so that Harry would be more comfortable. This time Harry had let Bucky take the lead, Bucky had opened his love up so nicely that Harry had begged him to not stop. He had Harry tell him what he wanted done to him in every detail to make sure Harry was pleasured in the way he deserved to be. The absolute trust that Bucky saw in Harry's eyes he'd remember forever. Satisfaction wasn't a big enough word to describe the elation Bucky had felt making sweet love to his world. But the moment of satisfaction died just as quickly as it came. Bucky had come back to earth when he reached over towards the end table to grab a glass of water to hydrate Harry and realized that they never used the unopened condom that sat there, taunting them.
When Harry realized what they had done he had flipped out but Bucky was able to calm him down enough. "Don't worry your pretty head off doll, we both know I can't get sick. It ain't an excuse though, I swear I'll remember them for next time. " Bucky had held Harry close the rest of that night, his face settled in the crook of Harry's neck. Breathing in the scent of what was now considered home for him. And while Harry slept, Bucky knew Harry was the one. "I love you, Harry James Potter. I'm gonna love you for the rest of our lives." Those words and promise echoed around the room, breezed through the ruffles of Harry's hair and the room went silent as Bucky dozed off.
It had only been the one time, Bucky had rationalized and locked all thoughts of it in the deep recesses of his mind until a few days later. Bucky had passed out during a normal workout routine, something he could close his eyes to do, and that's when they discovered what had happened. He tested positive for HIV. His condition worsened quite quickly and now here lay Bucky, bedridden in a hospital, a machine being used to help him breathe.
The last time Bucky had seen Harry they had an argument, a stupid one at that but an argument nonetheless. Bucky never blamed Harry for any of this but his guilt ridden doll face couldn't be convinced that this wasn't his fault. That if he'd never come to New York to find his father he never would have met Bucky and Bucky would never have gotten sick. Bucky gently reminded Harry that he never would have gotten the rehab and help he needed to be better and Harry had replied with "it would have been better if I had died. If I had stayed dead the first time and had just gotten onto that damn train, none of this would be happening right now." It broke Bucky's heart, he couldn't do anything as tears welled up in the green eyes of the man who owned his heart and Bucky watched as Harry stormed off. That had been a week ago and Harry hadn't shown up since then.
The medication Bucky was taking for the disease was starting to make him unaware and extremely sleep deprived. Without it though the doctor's were worried he wasn't going to live much longer. Another coughing fit shuddered through his body, droplets of red appeared on his hand as Bucky did the best he could to cover his mouth. He was worried about Harry, no news was good news though and Bucky already had Jarvis connected to his phone for updates on Harry.
A knock at the door startled Bucky out of his reverie. Hoping with every fiber of his being that it was Harry at the door, Bucky let out a quiet but firm," Come in."
It certainly wasn't Harry at the door, but Tony, Harry's father. Bucky hadn't seen Tony since he got the confirmation that he was HIV positive. Tony looked like how Bucky felt, like shit. Tony had dark bruising under his eyes as though he hadn't been sleeping well. Bucky thought Tony looked alot like his punk in that moment, thought Tony was about to start yelling at ghosts that weren't there. His hair and clothes were a mess and he was clutching onto something balled up in his hands. Tony's eyes were bloodshot and red. If Bucky didn't know any better he would have thought Tony had been crying before coming in but that was a ridiculous thought, Tony didn't even like Bucky, couldn't stand him dating Harry not to mention that small fact that Bucky had been the reason that Tony's parents were dead.
Tony normally strided when he walked into a room but today he seemed to drag himself inside to pull up a chair beside Bucky. Tony crumbled down into the chair like a puppet that's strings got cut, he looked so distraught. Bucky had never seen Tony look this bad before. Tony opened his mouth to say something but all that came out was a choked sob.
Something was horribly wrong, it was obvious to Bucky that something had happened and glancing down at what was in Tony's hand made Bucky's heart drop. It was Bucky's favorite sweatshirt. The one he'd given to Harry. The one that Harry always stole from their drawers. The sweatshirt that Bucky had to bribe his babydoll to remove when it needed to be washed. Harry never took that sweatshirt off, it was like a safety blanket to Harry. Bucky even caught Harry smelling it once after Bucky had worn it, the cutest blush on his lover's face when he got caught.
"Tony," Bucky took a wheezing breath in and out, "what's going on, why'd you have Harry's sweatshirt?"
Tony swiped away the tears that were pouring down his face. "I'm sorry Bucky."
Bucky waited for Tony to continue talking, to say anything else. No more words came though. Bucky searched Tony's face but looking into Tony's eyes only confirmed his worst thoughts. Harry was gone.
Bucky pulled the IV out of his arm, flung the ventilator off his face and tried with the only strength he had left to get up, he needed to see Harry. This wasn't possible, their last interaction with each other shouldn't have been a fight. This had to be a really bad practical joke. Any minute now and his green eyed doll would walk through those doors and tell him they'd found a way to slow the virus down, that everything was going to be okay. Bucky was going to ask Harry to marry him, they were going to have their happy ending that Bucky had always promised him.
Bucky didn't even make it close to the door before he toppled over. He tried to use his arm to push himself up but he was too weak and his metal arm felt just as useless as his real limb, the stupid piece of shit. An arm that twitched, shaked so violently that Bucky wondered what it would do, grasped him from underneath his elbow and slowly pulled him up so he was back on the bed.
A single tear fell from Bucky's eye and he furiously swiped it away, he hadn't cried since his Ma had died and left him and Rebecca to take care of each other. The tears wouldn't stop coming though.
Bucky gasped for breath, everything hurt. He'd imagined his death so many times in the past because of the war but he didn't realize that what Tony would tell him would feel worse than dying.
"We knew Harry had started using again, in fact we had anticipated it happening. We tried, I tried," Tony clenched his teeth together, " we all tried to get him help but it was like he put up a wall around himself. Harry completely shut down and there was nothing we could do to stop it. Stubborn ass Stark men."
A humorless laugh left Tony's lips as he turned to look out the window.
"I figured the only way to get Harry out of his slump was to work, to find a cure to fix you." Taking a steadying breath in through his nose while his fingers taped out nonsense against his leg he continued to speak. "I did it too, I Tony fucking Stark had a miracle breakthrough. Something scientists couldn't figure out for years. I had the cure for my son and for you eventually. I saved my findings and went to find Harry to share the good news."
Tony glanced back at Bucky, analyzing him as Bucky wheezed for air. A manic glare entered the man's eyes as he pulled a flask out of his pocket. Tony opened the flask with shaking hands and chugged whatever contents were in it.
"You want to know what I found, Buckaroo, when I went to find my son to tell him he didn't have to worry about you anymore?! I found him in your room with this." Tony threw the balled up sweatshirt at Bucky. "It was wrapped around his neck, he hung himself with your damn shirt Barnes. Jarvis couldn't even tell me he was dead, he was gone for a full three hours, his body cold to the touch. Harry had a magical outburst when he died and it knocked Jarvis offline. I didn't even know my own son was dead while you wasted away in this hospital."
Tony's eyes turned stormy, a shudder ran up his back at the look in his eyes. Tony jabbed a finger at Bucky.
"My son is dead and you're still here. This is your fucking fault Bucky, you took my parents from me. Now you've taken my son from me as well. I'll be fucking damned if you go and died now. If I have to suffer here without him then so do you!"
Tony pulled a capped off syringe out of his pocket and before Bucky could protest or try to get away Tony had already, with practiced ease, found Bucky's vein and jabbed the needle into him.
Tony sneered at Bucky. "Congratulations soldier. You've been cured. I want your shit and you out of the tower within the week."
With that said Tony stumbled his way out the door on shaky legs and slammed it shut behind him as Bucky broke down on the hospital bed, heartbroken and alone.
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Steve had come into the hospital room a few hours later to see how the cure was working. Bucky's vitals were coming back up, he had color back in his face and had stopped coughing. Steve joked that Bucky looked better then Steve did before he got the serum. A smile appeared on Steve's face as he joked around and with adoration in his eyes, he grasped Bucky's hand.
Bucky glanced down at their joined hands, looked up and stared into the gleaming blue eyes of the man he once loved, and wished they were green. Wished Steve wasn't there, wished Tony never worked on a cure and wished on everything he believed in that he was the one that was dead instead.
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Inside Stark tower, in Bucky's bedroom where tragedy struck and no light shined. An opened engagement ring box sat on the nightstand table with a tear stained, scratchy handwritten letter attached to the box. ' I will always love you. In this life and my next. I'm sorry this happened. I'll see you soon. We can ride the train together.'