Let's Go on Dreaming

xvii. 

Steve looked ridiculous. 

He’d found the jacket in the back of a second-hand shop a year ago, and he’d purchased it on the off chance he and Peggy ever went to the ball. The silver filigree around the collar felt too gaudy, and maybe the cravat was a mistake. The leather boots certainly were. He felt stiff and unfamiliar. Nothing like the man who’d met Bucky. 

He’d been hiding in a different way, then.

He could call Bucky and ask if he wanted to watch a movie. That felt safer. They could figure out who they were and what they wanted in the safety of a familiar space. Maybe Bucky could teach him how to dance in his living room and he wouldn’t feel as self-conscious when he stepped on his feet.

Steve closed his eyes and thought about Bucky on the Wonder Wheel. How much trust he put into Steve to keep him safe. 

He took a deep breath and readjusted his jacket. 

Bucky would keep him safe.  

With one last look at himself in the mirror, he grabbed his keys and left. 

The foyer of the Woolworth building was stunning. Steve could’ve easily sat down with his sketchbook and been content for hours, replicating the etched marble, golden inserts, and elegantly dressed couples ascending the staircase. His fingers hadn’t itched to draw like this, to create in every sense of the word, since he’d first seen Bucky laugh. 

His eyes immediately locked on the man standing with his back turned to him. He held a bauble in his hand, and Steve could see the slim fingers wrapping around it. In the moment it took Steve to reach out, the world became dangerous and unstable. Maybe this was all fantasy, created in Steve’s need for something real. He would wake up to his daughter telling him they were going to be late because he’d been up all night trying to finish an assignment. Steve almost pulled his hand back. 

His fingers brushed against the dark blue silk of Bucky’s suit. Real. Real. Real. The bauble returned to the table. Bucky turned. A smile slid onto his face, crinkling the skin around his eyes. Steve needed to draw it. He needed to immortalize everything about this moment. 

“Hi,” Bucky said. 

“Hi,” Steve whispered back. 

Steve could’ve sat in that moment forever, taking in every detail. It wouldn’t have been enough. Still, Steve tried. The detailed stitching on his suit. The dutch braid leading to a bun on the crown of his head, and the curls that brushed his shoulder. The incredible blue of his eyes. Bucky’s hand touched his. Steve nearly jumped. 

“Shall we?” Bucky asked, motioning towards the grand staircase. 

Steve nodded and offered his elbow. Bucky smiled and took it. Strides matching, they ascended the stairs and handed their tickets to the men dressed as squires. 

The ballroom was an explosion of grandeur. A string quintet positioned by the back windows played a cheerful tune. A swell in the music was accompanied by a jump in the dance. Servers wove through the dancing couples, trays of champagne, and tiny appetizers balanced on one hand. 

Steve put a hand on the rail, watching. Two women pushed past them, giggling. The quintet turned the pages of their music and set their instruments down. Some couples left the floor, and others joined. The conductor tapped his baton, and the quintet started again. 

“Are you having second thoughts?” Bucky asked, his lips touching the shell of Steve’s ear. Steve shivered. 

“I don’t know how to dance,” he admitted. 

“I’ll teach you.” The grip on his elbow left as Bucky’s hand found his. “Trust me?” 

The glimmering sconces were nothing like the lights of Coney Island, but Steve could pretend. He could have the same courage it took Bucky to look out from the Wonder Wheel. Steve nodded. He let go of the rail. They walked down the stairs.

“Steve, wait.” Bucky tugged Steve close and blinked. He had that same look that he’d had at the pier—raw and terrified.

“Are you having second thoughts?” He’d never been this close to him before. Steve put a hand on his chest, feeling the tripping beat of his heart. The tips of his fingers brushed against Bucky’s neck. Bucky looked down at them before looking back up. There were specks of grey in his eyes.

“I wanted to say—need to say—” Bucky swallowed. Steve felt the hitch in his breath. “Whatever happens tonight, I’m glad to have met you.” 

“Do you think I’m going to scare you off with my dancing?” 

“No, I just—” Bucky blinked hard. His heart was steadier when he opened them. “I found what I’m looking for.” 

Any other time that would’ve terrified Steve. He brushed his fingers over Bucky’s lips. He’d lost count of how many times he’d tried to get their shape right. Steve wanted to kiss him. “I found what I was looking for, too.” 

Bucky put his hand over Steve’s heart. “I think we missed the part where they taught the dances.” 

“I’ve never been good at following instructions,” Steve told him. “I find the messy bits bring the best memories.” 

Bucky bowed and held out his hand in invitation. Steve took it. 

He didn’t know how Bucky knew all the dances. He could barely keep up with the changing tempos and styles, the jumps and claps and turns, let alone the names whispered into his ear. All that mattered was Bucky’s smile and laugh and the feel of his hand in his. 

Steve thought he saw Peggy once, dancing with another woman. They disappeared as soon as he turned his head for a closer look. A mirage created by sparkling lights, spinning couples, and his growing feelings for the man in his arms. 

It didn’t matter that he’d only known Bucky for two months. People got engaged after less. Looking at him, Steve felt like he was flying. 

He was dizzy when Bucky led him to the edge of the dance floor. Steve gratefully sank onto an empty couch while Bucky grabbed them glasses. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the cool marble behind him. Everything still spun. 

“You okay?” 

Steve opened his eyes as Bucky sat beside him. He nodded and accepted the proffered glass, thankful when he found it to be water. Their thighs and shoulders touched. 

“But it’s all a little overwhelming, isn’t it? Masks and costumes and all these dances.” 

“It’s all life is,” Bucky said. “You just need to find the right dance partner and someone who isn’t afraid of what’s under the mask.” 

Somewhere across the room, a man laughed. Steve had never heard anything like it. It trickled like ice down his spine. Bucky immediately stiffened. His eyes flitted back and forth until they landed on someone. Steve followed his gaze to see a man dressed in rich purple velvet and dark leather. A heavy crown rested on his brow. 

“Well, folks, it’s that time of night,” the conductor said. Everyone turned to look. Steve kept looking at Bucky. “I’d like to ask each lady or gentleman to ask that special someone to dance the King and Queen’s Waltz.” 

Steve stood and bowed. “Bucky Barnes, would you do me the honors?” 

Bucky took his hand. “Do you still want me to lead?” 

“You’re in my arms, and all the world is gone. The music playing on for only two.”

The rest of the world disappeared the moment they started to dance again. This waltz was different, no claps or jumps or switching of partners. Just Bucky against his chest like a prayer come true. 

“And now, forever, I know all that I want is to hold you so close.” 

Steve loved him. He had to. This was different than he’d ever felt with Peggy. It was warm in his chest, and he wasn’t afraid to pull away his mask. 

“So close to reaching that famous happy end. Almost believing this one’s not pretend.” 

Steve loved him. He did. Bucky loved him back. Steve was convinced of that. Nothing else would make sense with the way he stared at Steve right now. 

There was that laugh again. Bucky tensed in his arms. 

“Now you’re beside me, and look how far we’ve come. So far, we are so close.” 

The music swelled. Bucky’s mouth moved, and Steve heard the words a heartbeat too late. Trust me? Steve was still nodding when Bucky spun him. The entire room gleamed. Bucky’s smile flashed. Something pinched his side, and he was back in Bucky’s arms. 

“Oh, how could I face the faceless days if I should lose you now.” 

The warmth in his chest expanded until his entire body seemed to be lit with it. Everything slowed down. Steve leaned forward. 

“We’re so close to reaching that famous happy end.” 

Bucky’s breath ghosted warm against his face. The pain in his side grew. The warmth in his chest still expanded. 

“Almost believing this one’s not pretend.” 

“I love you,” Steve whispered. Bucky’s eyes flew wide. Their lips were a centimeter apart.

“Let’s go on dreaming, though we know we are so close, so close, and still so far.” 

Steve fell. Bucky caught him. Everything went black. 

xviii. 

Bucky watched Steve fall in slow motion, the red stain blooming across his side at an alarming rate. It seemed like a dream, him leading Steve into a spin and having him land on his dagger. 

“I love you.”

Bucky caught him. Someone screamed. And then another. Bucky barely heard it. All he saw was blood. His hands were covered in it. He pressed them against Steve’s side in an attempt to stem it. Fabric brushed against him as people made a mad rush to the exit. 

“I love you.”

Steve loved him. His dagger clattered to the floor, coated red. 

Bucky was on the Wonder Wheel again, staring down at the glittering pier, Steve’s hand in his for the very first time. He loved him. 

Bucky loved him. 

What had he done? 

“Quiet!” The King stood at the top of the stairs. The mad rush stopped. It was too quiet. 

There was a door to Bucky’s left that looked to lead out into the courtyard behind the ballroom. He cradled Steve close to his chest. 

“Kneel.” 

The woman beside Bucky knelt. One by one so did the rest of the crowd. Pierce’s command was an itch at the back of his mind. The weight of Steve’s body in his arms grounded him. Bucky took a step back, and then another, until his back touched the door. It opened silently. He took a deep breath and turned around. 

“I should’ve known better,” Peggy hissed, her dagger inches from his heart. 

“I know what this looks like, but you need to trust me,” Bucky said. Steve was heavy in his arms. Blood dripped down his side and onto the floor. “The King doesn’t have me. Not anymore.” 

“How am I supposed to trust you?” Her face was a mask of cold fury. 

Bucky looked down at Steve, and he remembered their nights on his rooftop, talking and laughing. “His ma’s name was Sarah,” he said. “He used to wear newspaper in his shoes.” 

Peggy took a step back, the fury cracking until he could see the fear behind it. “Sam said you were a tailor back home.” It wasn’t a question. Bucky nodded. She reached into a pocket and pulled out a needle and thread. “Prove it. Don’t you let him die.” 

“Peggy? Where are you?” 

Angie’s voice came from down the hall. Bucky only caught a glimpse of blonde curls before Peggy pushed him towards the courtyard. “Go!” 

Bucky turned and ran as fast as he could with Steve’s growing weight. A fountain bubbled somewhere in a maze of hedges. As soon as he reached it, he lay Steve down on the marble. He stirred only slightly. Sweat glistened on his forehead. 

“Stay with me, Steve,” he whispered. 

Bucky pulled up his shirt and tried not to wince when he saw the wound. Trying to slow his breathing, he grabbed the needle and thread. His hands shook. He missed the eye of the needle. Again. Again. Again. Steve groaned. Had he always been that pale? How much blood had he lost? 

Bucky closed his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath. The thread went through. Working as fast as he could, Bucky pinched the sides of the wound together and started stitching. 

“I’m sorry, Steve. I’m sorry. Just stay with me, okay? Stay with me.” He snapped the remaining thread and wiped his hands on his pants. 

Steve’s eyes fluttered open. “Buck?” His voice was weak and laced with pain. “What happened?” 

Bucky could tell him the truth. Peggy had already tried to tell him. Bucky could tell him and lose him forever. But maybe he already had. “I didn’t have a choice,” he said. “The King wants you dead.” 

Steve blinked hard, trying to focus. “Peggy told me—that was true?” His face contorted into a mask of pain. He trembled. “I thought you loved me.” 

The hurt in his voice was a dagger to Bucky’s heart. He didn’t know if it was possible to rebuild anything between them. Their relationship had been built on a lie. Bucky didn’t know how much had been him and what had been the King’s Soldier. The lines were so blurred now. 

“I know what this looks like. It may have started out that way, but Steve, I need you to believe me. Every time I’m with you, it’s like I’m back on the Wonder Wheel.” He looked behind him, knowing he was running out of time. “I can’t—I have to go. He’ll be looking for me.” 

Bucky pressed a kiss to Steve’s forehead, wishing the first time his lips were against Steve’s skin was at a happier moment. “I love you,” he whispered. “I do. Please believe that.” He tore himself away, catching just the end of Steve’s anguished expression, and ran back inside. 

Everyone still knelt. Bucky had no idea how long he’d been out with Steve. Minutes. Hours. Days. It was like time had frozen. The King stood in the center of the room. Two heavily muscled men held Peggy. Pierce observed her with the air of a child examining something new and unpleasant. 

Angie inched her way around the edge of the room. 

Shoulders squared and face set, Bucky walked to stand at the right hand of the King. 

“Soldier, mission report?” 

“Target has been eliminated.” 

“No!” Peggy’s scream of anguish echoed across the hall. A few people turned to look at her, blinking in confusion. Some tried to stand. 

“Silence!” Pierce roared. Everyone knelt. In the confusion, Angie advanced further. “Kill the traitor, Soldier.” 

His dagger lay at his feet, still coated with Steve’s blood. It flaked off in his hands. Peggy stared at him, her face a mask of fury and grief. Bucky’s knuckles were white around the hilt as he placed the tip above her heart. 

“Bucky, stop.” 

Steve limped across the floor, his face bloodless and screwed up in pain. He held his side. Bucky closed his eyes, fighting to keep his expression neutral. The Soldier didn’t have emotions. He was the King’s weapon. His hand shook. 

“Kill the traitor, Soldier,” Pierce commanded. 

Bucky looked at Steve, hoping his eyes were enough to let him know he didn’t have a choice. If this was going to end, he needed to do this. The dagger bit into the fabric of Peggy’s dress. 

“You can let her go,” Steve said. “You don’t have to listen to him.” The men holding Peggy dropped their hands. 

“Soldier.” 

Sweat beaded Steve’s brow. It looked like he was standing by the strength of will alone. He ignored Peggy’s attempts to help him. “People are gonna die, Buck. I can’t let that happen.” He staggered and caught himself. 

“Please,” Bucky whispered. 

“You know me,” Steve continued. 

“No, I don’t.” 

Hurt flashed through Steve’s eyes. “Bucky, you’ve known me since you arrived. Your name is James Buchanan Barnes.” 

“Shut up!” 

“Get rid of him, Soldier!” Bucky felt the power of Pierce’s command running cold down his spine. 

Steve stared steadily at him. There was a smudge of blood on his forehead. Bucky felt the softness of his skin imprinted against his lips. “I’m not going to fight you, Bucky. You’re my friend.” 

“Soldier, finish it!” Pierce’s power washed over him again, and he felt the enticing stillness of following blindly. 

“You’re my mission.” 

Steve placed the dagger directly over his heart. “Then finish it,” he said, putting his hand on top of Bucky’s. Tears pricked painfully at Bucky’s eyes. “Because I’m with you ’til the end of the line.” 

Bucky drew the dagger back and prepared to drive it into Steve’s heart. The King yelled in fury. There was the crack of skin striking skin. Peggy cried out as Angie fell to the floor. 

Someone screamed. Then another. A flock of birds hurtled through the open door, led by Sam. They flew straight towards Pierce. Bucky dropped the dagger and immediately put his arms around Steve’s head, shielding him with his body. He struggled against the mad rush of people scrambling towards the exit. Angie had already made it to Peggy. 

“Get him out of here,” he yelled over the noise, pushing Steve toward the women. They immediately supported him between them. 

“No! Not without you!” The desperation in Steve’s voice killed him. 

Feathers and fallen birds littered the stairs. Sam dove valiantly at the King’s eyes. “There’s no time!” Bucky said. “This will only get worse if I don’t go with him. He’ll make me find you.”

“Bucky!” 

He slipped the piece of paper into Steve’s jacket pocket. “Go!” 

Steve struggled, but Angie and Peggy pulled him away and out into the courtyard. When they were out of sight, Bucky grabbed his dagger. Sam swooped down, scratching Pierce’s cheek with his talons, and retreated. The remaining birds followed. 

The room was silent. The King straightened. Blood trickled down his cheek. Bucky stood at his side, waiting for his punishment. 

“I went to war when I was seventeen,” the King said. “My sword rusted, and my longing for comforts were so great that the homecoming was greater than winning the battle of daybreak.” He paused. Bucky still waited for a strike against him. “Soldier?” 

“Ready to comply.” 

xix. 

Steve struggled to break out of Peggy’s hold. The ballroom had fallen silent. Somehow, that was worse than the screaming. They’d just left Bucky there. His side burned. He still felt the press of Bucky’s lips against his forehead. 

Bucky loved him. 

“We need to go back,” he gasped when they helped him sit on a bench near the fountain. His blood stained the marble where Bucky had laid him. “We need to save Bucky.” 

“He just tried to kill you!” Peggy spit. “This entire time, he’s been pretending. Can’t you see that yet?” 

“Peggy, you know it wasn’t his choice,” the other woman said. Her blonde curls and bright blue eyes reminded Steve of the fiancée Bucky had spoken about. She was dressed in leather pants and a loose blue shirt cinched at the waist with a corset. “Remember yourself before you blame him.” 

Steve’s side throbbed something fierce. Black edged his vision. 

“We need to tell him everything,” she continued. “He deserves to know why this is happening.” 

Peggy shook her head, anguish in her eyes. “I’ve tried, Angie.” 

The world softened. Words distorted. He thought he heard someone telling him to stay awake. His eyes closed. 

The ER was a rush of noise and lights and doctors trying to make sense of the chaos. They also commented on the neatness of the makeshift stitches already there. 

By the time they reached his apartment, Steve was the most exhausted he’d ever been. The pain medication helped, but each breath still seared. Peggy helped him onto the couch and got him a glass of water. Angie opened a window. Steve texted Natasha asking if she could keep Sarah overnight. 

Peggy sat on the coffee table and crossed her legs. A red-wing blackbird flew in through his open window and landed on her shoulder. 

“Oh good, he’s alive,” it said. Too much had happened for Steve to be fazed by the talking bird. “You’re going to tell him, right?”

Peggy said no at the same time that Angie said yes. 

“This has gone too far, Peggy,” Angie said. “And I admit that it’s my fault. Sam and I are trying to fix it.” 

“Sam?” Steve said, trying to make sense of at least something. “Bucky’s friend?” 

The bird nodded. “Peggy, this has gone far enough. Keeping the truth from him may have kept him safe before, but too much has happened.” 

“What’s the truth?” Steve asked. “I’m tired of needing to guess.” 

“I’ve tried telling you, Steve,” Peggy told him. “You never listened, and now look where we are!” 

“Start by telling me who she is.” He pointed at Angie, who stood behind Peggy with her hands on her shoulders. 

“The woman I loved years ago.” Steve didn’t miss the look of hurt that flashed through Angie’s eyes. Peggy dropped her head. “The woman I love still.” 

“Did you ever love me?” Steve didn’t know if he wanted the answer, but he couldn’t stop it from coming out. 

“I care about you, Steve.” 

Tears pricked at his eyes. Heat built at the back of his throat. He hadn’t expected the answer to hurt as much as it had. “Just tell me the rest. I’m listening.” 

Over the course of the next hour, they told him everything they could. How Angie was a princess, how Peggy used to be the King’s advisor. How Bucky had been no one until Angie had seduced him and the King turned him into a soldier. How Steve was the only one completely immune to the King’s power. 

“We just left him there,” Steve said. His fingers turned over a piece of paper in his pocket. “We left Bucky there for the King to use for only God knows what, and you don’t care?” 

Angie looked at him and Steve could understand why Bucky had fallen for her so fast. “Steve, my uncle is the most dangerous man you’ll ever meet. Bucky saved your life by sacrificing his.” 

“That’s not good enough!” Steve yelled. “We need to go back to save him.” 

“Steve, he wants to kill you!” Peggy yelled back. 

“And who’s fault is that? He wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for you.” His body protested when he pushed himself to his feet, and he fought past a wave of nausea and dizziness. 

“Sit down, Steve.” 

“No.” He walked towards the door. 

“Where are you going?” Peggy asked. 

Steve grabbed his keys and set out the piece of paper with Bucky’s scrawl. “I’m finishing this.”

xx.

It was terrifying how easily the King parted crowded sidewalks with little more than a word. Everyone bowed in respect and promptly shook their heads in confusion as soon as they passed. Bucky wanted to yell at them all to run and hide. He stayed silent at Pierce’s side, shoulders back and expression blank. He was the King’s Soldier. Nothing more. 

He felt Steve’s skin beneath his lips and the look in his eyes when he ran back inside. The anguish in his voice replayed on repeat. 

“Tell me everything you know.” 

The opulent ballroom dulled without dancing couples, whirling skirts, and the gleam of jewelry.

“His name is Steve Rogers,” Bucky said. 

The huge screens towering above Times Square reflected on the rain-slicked road, bleeding color onto the pavement. Bucky’s hands itched. The blood had been washed from his hands, but they were forever stained. 

Pierce walked around him. “You understand why he must die? To build a better world sometimes means having to tear the old one down. A wise king knows when death is necessary to protect his people.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Bucky led them away from the gleaming screens, down side streets, and under scaffolding with torn plastic hanging down. 

“You know where he is, don’t you?” 

If it still rained, Bucky would almost be able to believe it was the same night he’d met Steve. He stood in the middle of the dark intersection, the stop lights blinking above them with no cars to obey its signals. Electricity wouldn’t bow to the commands of a king, no matter how powerful his voice. Pierce observed with mild interest. Bucky wondered just how much he’d studied this world before stepping through. How much did he already know about its technology and dangers? 

How much would he destroy before he was content with his power? 

“Yes,” Bucky said. 

Someone slinked in the long shadows cast by the building. A bird screamed above them, and he saw the flash of a red wing. Bucky dove out of the way. A second later, a car came out of the darkness and slammed into Pierce. The King hit the windshield and rolled over the top. He hit the pavement and didn’t get up. 

Bucky scrambled to his feet and ran over, his shoes slipping on the wet road in his haste. Steve slumped over the wheel, his eyes closed. Bucky’s hands shook as he searched for the button that released his seatbelt. When it clicked, Bucky slipped his arms beneath Steve and pulled him out. They sank to the ground. Steve groaned and blinked his eyes open. 

“Is this often how people meet here?” he asked, voice laced with pain. Blood stained his shirt. He’d torn some stitches. 

Bucky hugged him, burying his head into Steve’s neck and holding him tight. Steve held him back. He trembled. 

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked, pulling away and cupping Steve’s face in his palm. He would never be able to look at him enough. Blood trickled from a small cut at his hairline. 

Steve nodded. “Just like we met, right?”  

Bucky laughed and helped Steve to his feet. There was a scuffle on the pavement behind them. Bucky ignored it, content to stare at Steve. He was here. He came to find him. Maybe he hadn’t lost him. 

Steve’s smile froze on his face. Someone pushed Bucky. He stumbled to the side. Peggy stood precisely where he’d been a second before, the hilt of a dagger protruding from her right shoulder. Bucky stared at her. 

She’d just saved his life. 

Pierce yelled in frustration, wrenched the dagger out, and lunged at Steve. 

Bucky didn’t think. He leaped forward, somehow managing to get his arms around the King’s waist. With the extra weight, they both fell to the ground. 

Steve yelled his name. Blood roared in his ears. Pavement scraped at his skin. He felt the blood as it spread across his chest. His vision narrowed. 

“I am no longer yours to control,” Bucky hissed.

The King snarled at him. Steve yelled his name again. Bucky barely heard it.

“I am not your Soldier, and this world is not yours to take.” 

He staggered when he finally stood, clutching his side. Steve ran to him. 

“Bucky, oh my god.” Steve’s hands were everywhere. “Oh my god. Peggy, call someone! Please! Bucky, oh my god.” 

“I’m okay, Steve,” he said. His words were sluggish from exhaustion. He left smudges of blood on Steve’s hands when he gripped them. “It’s not mine.” 

Steve’s chest rose and fell, his breathing loud in the quiet. “It’s not—” 

“It’s not mine.” 

They both looked to where the King lay on the ground, his own dagger in his heart. His chest rose faintly. Angie walked over to kneel beside her uncle. Peggy held her shoulder, blood seeping sluggishly between her fingers. Sam landed on Bucky’s shoulder. 

Distantly, a siren wailed. 

“Is it over?” Steve asked. His hand found Bucky’s. 

Angie stood. The Tesseract glowed softly in her hands. Tears streaked her cheeks. “He’s dead,” she told them. “I’ll take his body back to our world. The people under his control tonight will think this was all a nightmare.” 

  “I’ll come with you,” Peggy said. “A queen needs an advisor.” Angie nodded. 

“Peg?” Steve took a step towards her. 

Peggy smiled sadly at him. “My duty here is complete. You’re safe, and that’s what really matters, right?” 

“But I don’t want you to leave.” 

She put a hand on his cheek. “We were never very good at making each other happy. Be with the person who does.” She kissed his cheek and walked over to Bucky. 

“I’m sorry—” 

Peggy shook her head. “You don’t have to explain. Just promise me something? Keep making him happy.” 

Bucky nodded, and she walked back over to where Angie stood. Angie murmured something and kissed her before walking over to Bucky. They both looked at each other for a moment, unsure of what to say. Bucky didn’t feel the same pull towards her as when they’d first met. 

“I’m sorry for not telling you,” Angie finally said. “I hope in time you’ll learn to forgive me, but I understand if you can’t.” 

Bucky looked to where Peggy stood. Steve had gone over to hug her. “You wanted to get back to her,” he murmured. “I think I’d do anything to get back to him.” 

Angie kissed his cheek. “Goodbye, James.” 

“Princess.” 

Angie walked back to her Uncle’s body. Peggy joined her. Sam ruffled his wings but stayed perched on Bucky’s shoulder. He chirped softly in reassurance. 

The Tesseract glowed and the air in front of them shimmered and ripped open. Bucky’s heart leaped when he saw the familiar trees of his home eclipsed in a brilliant sunset. His hand found Steve’s, and his heart settled. The women stepped through. 

The air smelled faintly of wildflowers and summer breeze. Bucky closed his eyes.  

“You could’ve gone back,” Steve said. “Why didn’t you?” 

Bucky turned. “This isn’t the end of the line.” 

Steve looked at him, and Bucky saw his own fear and uncertainty and hope reflected in his eyes. It was the same feeling as being on the Wonder Wheel. This time, he didn’t just look over the edge. He jumped. He cupped Steve’s cheeks in his palms and kissed him. 

Steve rested their foreheads together when their lips parted. He chuckled breathlessly. “You know, the night I hit you, I thought how nice it would be to have a prince come sweep me off my feet.” 

“Still not a prince,” Bucky said. 

Steve smiled and kissed him again.