eight
The next morning when Bucky wakes up, this time, it’s with Steve already up before him. That isn’t an odd occurrence by any means (Steve has always been a little bit more of a morning person) but Bucky still has to blink at him a few extra times when he finally rouses from sleep. He’d made extra sure to shut the curtains last night in preparation for certain… things he’d hoped they’d be doing after dinner.
With how sated Steve still looks beside him, even the outside eye can see he ended up being right.
The outside eye can also see that Steve has been awake for quite some time. Bucky would say he’s spent more time on the inside of this man than the outside recently, but he can still see that too. In fact, he sees it and he frowns at it while trying to figure out what Steve is doing.
He’s curled up again, same as he had been before supper last night, sketchbook back in his lap and everything. Admittedly, his lap is still bare under the blanket he’s using, but that’s besides the point. The point is, Bucky can see his pencil moving. And he’s been watching Steve work with one for so long, that he can tell that what he’s doing right now isn’t sketching. It’s writing, and Bucky is curious to know exactly what.
It must be a note. For him or the other guy he isn’t yet sure. He doesn’t choose to ask. He’ll find out in the end either way.
The end. After everything it had taken to bring them together, maybe that shouldn’t be so weird of a concept to comprehend, but then again, Bucky is more willing to believe in time travel than he is willing to accept the fact that Steve has to leave. He’s accepted it by now. But that doesn’t mean he has to like it.
Wasting any of what time he has left with Steve doesn’t feel right, but then again, neither does interrupting what is clearly a personal moment. So Bucky closes his eyes back up and waits, making sure not to move until he can no longer hear the scratch of pencil moving upon paper. It’s when he can hear the sketchbook close that he finally opens them back up and shifts so that Steve can see he’s awake.
Steve doesn’t look surprised. In fact, he looks more at peace that Bucky has seen maybe since he arrived. It’s good, but also gets him concerned. Calm acceptance from Steve isn’t always a good thing. The Valkyrie had taught them both that.
Bucky makes sure his voice is just as calm, though. There’s no use in upsetting Steve just because Bucky thinks he should be acting the opposite. “Morning, sunshine. You sleep okay?” It’s almost the same exact way he woke him up yesterday morning, though they know today’s morning is impossibly different.
Steve still looks calm, but his words come out quiet. “I think so.” He sighs when Bucky’s right hand comes up to cup the nape of his neck, rough calluses catching against blonde baby hairs as Bucky pulls gently as he can to bring Steve down into an equally gentle kiss. It doesn’t heat up with how on edge they’re feeling for different reasons, but Steve still goes into it willingly when Bucky brings him back under the covers just so he can keep Steve caught between them as he rolls his way back on top.
It’s not meant to be sexual, Bucky doesn’t think. At least not to him, and he’s pretty sure not to Steve either. It’s… security, in a way. That for the time being, Steve isn’t going anywhere. For the time being, Bucky won’t let him. Quite literally, Bucky is holding him down, keeping him safe, keeping him warm. Keeping him here. Keeping him at home.
When they finally have to break away for air, the breath Steve takes in is shaky. Above him, Bucky’s isn’t much better, but he at least tries to put on a good face so Steve won’t see all that he’s feeling show. “Good morning,” he says again. He’ll say it as many times as Steve wants. A million times before the time comes for it to have to switch to goodbye.
Steve smiles, but doesn’t try to conceal the sadness in the same way. It’d be hard to anyways with all that Bucky can see burning in his eyes. “Good morning, Buck.”
Bucky doesn’t know what else there is to do right now but kiss him again, so that’s what he does, mouths moving insistently and four pairs of hands holding on tight to what they know can only be for a few hours more. The afternoon was what Shuri told them yesterday. It’s always been easy for them to lose track of time.
They lose a little of it now, but eventually, they both know they have to come back to real life. Steve, surprisingly, is the first to do that, letting out a regretful sound but still pushing on Bucky’s shoulders, the left giving less than the right until Bucky gets with the program and pulls back to see what Steve wants. Steve wants a lot of things, but there’s only a few that Bucky has the power to supply.
What he wants now is apparently breakfast, a far cry from what Bucky had to do in order to convince him to eat any yesterday. He wants the eggs Bucky offered earlier, evidently. Bucky wonders if it’s just an excuse to get him to leave the hut, but if it is, he lets it be one. Getting dressed and heading to the neighbor to borrow some is no hardship compared to what they know is up ahead of them.
When he returns with them, Steve is dressed too, back in borrowed clothes that Bucky wonders if he’ll have to change out of when they get back up to the palace. Seeing Steve in those ill fitting ones from before, barely anything in his pockets or on his person… Bucky’s heart is heavy. He tries not to let it weigh him down as he rebuilds the fire and puts a pan on so he can fry their eggs above the flames. He tries not to turn his back to Steve while he works.
Steve had picked up the sketchbook again and is apparently back to actually sketching in it based off of the sounds. The soothing scratch of him doing something he loves in this last little bit of time before leaving should ease Bucky’s mind. It doesn’t. It actually begins to grate on his mervee, but like hell is he going to stop.
The irritation fades away after a while anyways, but it’s back in full force faded away to guilt when he hears a ripping sound instead and turns his head to see Steve holding out a page that is clearly meant for him to take. Bucky frowns and moves to slide their finished eggs on a plate before putting the pan back down so he can get a look at what Steve’s trying to give him, what he wants him to have. Steve has always hated taking things out of his sketchbook. Says the jagged lines ruin how smoothly he’s able to make use of the next page. So what is he giving Bucky now that’s worth breaking the having?
Bucky stands and walks over to the bed so he can take it and sit beside Steve while he sees what this is all about. What he sees… it makes his throat swell up worse than the time he caught bronchitis from Steve when he was fifteen. As usual with Steve’s drawings that are done here, it’s him. It must be the one he had started working on last night before they ate dinner and ended up spending the rest of the night in bed.
The drawing isn’t anything inherently out of the ordinary for the type of thing Steve usually does, but it’s made special knowing who it’s from and what they were both feeling when he did it. It’s made special because it’s Steve and he did this for Bucky to have something of his left behind when he inevitably has to leave.
There’s a little more to it than just that, made clear when Steve finally speaks. His hands are clasped tight between his thighs where Bucky’s are spread to hold the sketch. “I figured maybe you could put it up at the palace after I… go,” he whispers, licking his lips nervously like he half expects Bucky to say no. “I know it’s probably nothing compared to the painting, but I didn’t really have the time to…” He trails off.
There’s a lot of things it feels like they didn’t have the time to do.
Bucky won’t let Steve think for one second that this picture doesn’t mean just as much as that painting. He sets it down on top of his legs so that it’s still below them when he twists his upper body to wrap Steve in a hug that has both of their breathing starting to shake. A good hug always has that effect on Steve, and today, it has that effect on Bucky too. “I love it,” he murmurs, mouth right next to Steve’s ear and both hands holding on tight. Steve’s hands are doing the same behind him on his back. “I love you.”
“I don’t want to go,” Steve rushes out, quiet and ashamed like it’s a confession and not something that should be an assumed fact. What person would in his situation? Steve Rogers is the bravest man that Bucky knows. Not wanting to be alone doesn’t change that. “I know I have to and I know- I know one day I’m gonna bring you home, but I don’t want to go.”
There’s not much Bucky can say besides “I know, sweetheart. I know.” And he does, because he feels the same. They don’t break the hug after that for a long time. Not even when their breakfast grows cold.
-
Ayo comes down again in the early afternoon, looking as grave and grim as Bucky is feeling himself. He and Steve have spent the morning sitting outside on the end of the wagon while they talk and try not to say their last goodbyes so soon. Bucky wants his last memories here to be warm while he still has them. He wants Steve to be able to soak in the sun.
Maybe it’ll help him feel a little less cold once he gets home. It’s a silly, ridiculous sentiment, but it’s one Bucky has anyways.
As Ayo approaches, Steve looks like he feels sicker by the step, and Bucky can’t blame him. He doesn’t blame her, either, but it isn’t easy being the bearer of bad news, let alone the equivalent of an executioner bringing a prisoner to the place where his fate awaits. In a way, Bucky is glad that it’s Ayo, which is likely why T’Challa send her in the first place. He doesn’t feel any lesser when she sees him looking like he wants to cry. How can he not feel that way when Steve appears to be about two seconds from doing exactly that himself?
He keeps it together, though, by a miracle Bucky doesn’t know how he manages to uphold. It has to be difficult. He makes sure to hold on to Steve a little tighter when Ayo finally enters the gate and gets close enough for Bucky to see the sympathy in her eyes unfold. It’s not something he sees often. It’s not something he’s sure he ever wants to see again.
“Ayo,” he greets her, voice gravelly. Steve goes very still beside him.
She doesn’t bother back with a salutation. Instead, she utters two words that come out heart sinkingly simple. “It’s time.” Neither of them have to ask for what.
Those shields Steve always seems to have on standby shoot right back up as he takes the burden upon those broad shoulders that he has to be strong. Bucky wants to smack that out of him, but he doesn’t. He won’t make him hurt today anymore than he has to. It doesn’t hurt Bucky any less when he hears how hard Steve has to make his voice go so that Ayo won’t be able to hear it shake. “I’ll just need a moment before I’m ready to go.”
“I’m going with you,” Bucky says, his own voice leaving no room for argument even when Steve turns to try and do that anyways. “I’m with you ‘til the end for this too, pal. You’re not getting away that easy.” Steve tries to smile when Bucky shakes his shoulder to sink the message in, but it goes watery when Bucky stands and pulls him up with him so they can head back into the hut. Bucky’s not even sure what they’re going to collect besides the drawing. Steve didn’t bring anything with him, and he’s not leaving much else but the memories behind.
What they’re collecting, Bucky comes to find, is themselves. Steve starts to crumple almost as soon as they step inside, hand having to scrub over his eyes before Bucky even has the door closed behind them. Bucky goes to him in order to try for some comfort, but Steve stops him with a hand to the chest.
“I’m fine,” he croaks out. “I’m fine.” He’s clearly not fine. Bucky doesn’t even fucking know why he’s trying to pretend, so he doesn’t hesitate to pull his next punch.
He moves in to hug Steve anyways, burying his head into his neck. “Yeah?” he says, muffled. “Well I’m not. So gimme a minute to get it together, okay?” It might be a lousy trick to take advantage of, but it’s what works. And it’s not like he’s not telling the truth. He has to let Steve go. How could he ever be fine with something like that?
In any case, Steve falls for it, trick or not, nodding hesitantly before falling into the bear hug and hugging back Bucky just as tight. “It’s going to be alright,” he says softly, still sounding like he’s trying to convince himself of the same thing. “It’s… we’re gonna be alright.”
Initiating the hug under the guise of it only being for himself may have been a sneak tactic, but hearing Steve say that is a reassurance Bucky didn't know he needed. It’s hard as hell having to do this and even harder having to believe that statement is true, but it is. One day they will be alright. Steve just has to go back so he can get them there first.
Bucky still has to kiss Steve’s hair as he pulls away and pause to look him in the eye. “No matter how this day ends,” he tells him. “That doesn’t mean that we do. You will come back to me, Steve Rogers.” He kisses his forehead and keeps his lips there to murmur out his last words like a promise meant to sink into the skin. “You will always make it back home.” They’re made their way back to each other more than once before, and if need be, they can do it again.
Steve nods again and doesn’t let go of Bucky until there’s a knock on the door. It’s Ayo. She doesn’t come in, but she does call through to them.
“Princess Shuri has sent word that we need to make our way up.” She sounds about as apologetic as she gets. “She says it’s almost time to begin.”
They don’t move for a second, but then, they accept that they have to. Bucky doesn’t think he has anything to take with him, but Steve hands him both the drawing and the sketchbook a second later with a small smile that says he should bring up both. “I left a note for… him,” he says quietly. “I know that it may be a little weird for him to read alone, so maybe you could try and read it to him for me?” Over the phone, he must mean. Bucky doesn’t have a solid idea of when the other Steve will be able to come back home.
He nods anyways. This is something equivalent to Steve’s final wishes. It’s the least he can do to make sure they flesh their way out. “Of course,” he murmurs, taking both in hand.
Steve gives him one last tight lipped smile before turning back towards the door and letting Bucky lead him to it with his free hand resting in its usual spot on the small of his back. When Steve uses his to open up the door, Bucky can see that he’s trying not to shake. They step outside to where Ayo is waiting with her own hand still poised on her spear.
When she sees them, she tips her head. “Are you ready to go?”
No, Bucky wants to say, but he knows if he does, they never will be. That’s a dam that can’t break until this deed is done. So instead he nods his head and tries to hold it high when really he wants to let it hang down in defeat. “Ready as we’ll ever be.” That, at least, is honest. Steve doesn’t say anything, and Bucky knows it’s because he doesn’t want to have to lie. He’s even less ready to go than Bucky is read to let him. But he nods as well, so Ayo turns and starts to head out with the two of them in two.
When they begin the climb up the hill, Bucky tries to make sure that he holds onto the sketchbook tight. And then, because trying his best to be strong but is still only human, makes sure to walk a little slow. Steve walks even slower, but not once does he turn his head to look at the hut as it grows smaller behind them.
-
Shuri welcomes them once again as soon as they step into the lab after leaving Ayo outside, but this time, she looks a little more somber. Bucky wonders briefly what happened yesterday when she was alone with Steve while trying to remove the fragments for his return, if that was what made her see how hard this is for him to face. Steve didn’t tell him much about the procedure outside of promising it didn’t hurt him. Bucky left it at that. They had more important things to talk about last night.
Today, Shuri seems to have some important things to say to them as well, mostly a run down of what’s going to have to happen in order to send Steve back home. T’Challa is standing behind the table once again when she walks them up to it, looking just as solemn as his sister.
“We’ve fashioned the energy into what upon first glance should look like a stone- something solid that Captain Rogers can touch to initiate his return,” she’s saying. “If what you told me about how it looked when he first got here is right, I’d expect a flash of light to go along with him on this trip as well. The portal that pulls him out will be the same as the one that brought him here in the first place, only with a target that’s more honed.” She glances at Steve where he’s hunched in on himself under Bucky’s arm and looks almost sad.
Bucky hopes she knows that none of what they’re feeling is her fault. He’d tell her, but she’s still going on.
“One touch to the stone should do it. If it doesn’t… well, I’m not quite sure what we’d do next in that case, but this should do the trick based on what all of our tests have had to say.” She glances at T’Challa, then back at the two of them huddled together. “I’m ready whenever you are, but first Captain Rogers will need to get changed just in case we’ve underestimated what will be different when he arrives.” She gestures to the stack of Steve’s clothes that he came here in, sitting on the table beside her looking just as sad as when Bucky first took them off, even if they are a little cleaner.
Steve clears his throat. “I’ll go do that,” he manages, but Shuri waves her hand, already stepping to pull T’Challa aside.
“We need to go check the preparations in the other room. The two of you can remain in here until you’re ready.” She gives them both a smile that Bucky can tell doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She’s giving them a chance to say goodbye, he realizes. “Take your time.” And with that, the two of them are gone with only Bucky left standing behind.
They’re both silent for a moment, not sure of what else there is to say, but when Steve makes the first move to take off his shirt, Bucky stops him. “Let me,” he says softly. He got Steve out of his clothes when he arrived here. It only seems right that he gets to help him back inside.
Steve takes in a shaky breath, but doesn’t protest when Bucky begins to strip him down of his borrowed outfit piece by piece. The shirt goes first, then his socks and shoes, then his pants- pretty soon, all he’s left in is his underwear, and even that isn’t his own. That has to go down too.
Before he takes that last piece off, Bucky can’t bear to keep from kissing him, so he does despite the fact Steve is almost naked and he is decidedly not. That’s not what matters, not now. Bucky doesn’t care for one second about the clothes. What he cares about is the man who goes inside them, who for now, is still able to go inside his arms.
This time their embrace isn’t so much a hug as it is Bucky holding them together, Steve’s arms sandwiched between them while he curls in like he can hide in Bucky’s body while his arms are around his back. He’s so small like this. So vulnerable. Bucky is afraid if he holds onto him any hard, he’ll crack around the edges and break.
They still don’t talk, even when Bucky lets go to start redressing him in his old clothes. He thinks they’re both afraid to say anything. Saying nothing is better in some ways than having to say goodbye. It takes until Bucky is buttoning up that hideous plaid shirt for him to find it in himself to say anything at all, and what he does say ends up coming out hoarse.
He can hear how rough it sounds even to his own ears. “It’s gonna take your guy a while to catch up, pal, so,” he has to pause just to clear his throat of the urge to cry. “Just… be patient with him huh?” He finishes with the buttons and moves on to his belt next while still speaking. “I know it’s hard to ask considering you’ve never been patient a day in your damn life, but.” He claps a hand over his cheek and meets a pair of very watery blue eyes. “Be patient with yourself, too, alright?”
Steve’s eyes close when he nods, but he takes in a deep breath that comes out a wet sigh when Bucky kisses over the bridge of his nose. “Alright.” Then, quieter, “I’m gonna miss you Buck. You’ve got no idea how much.”
Really, Bucky thinks he does, but he doesn’t need to say that when Steve is about to have to go back through it. He takes in a deep breath of his own instead, and ruffles Steve’s hair up on top of his head in some semblance of trying to lighten the sense of dread that’s settled over them. “I’m gonna miss you too, kid.” Steve tries to pull away to put his old shoes on, but Bucky once again stops him in favor of keeping him close. “C’mere.”
They embrace again and Bucky wonders how long it’s going to be until the next time Steve gets a hug. He makes sure to hold on a little extra to help ease what he knows is going to be a long wait.
Waiting is the name of the game even now. The both of them know that T’Challa and Shuri are expecting them out there soon, but even then, Bucky can’t let him go yet. He can’t let him leave so soon, not without a proper goodbye. They’ve been avoiding it, but the time has come, and Bucky wants to be able to say one with the two of them alone before they step out into that room.
He’s the one that starts to say it first, cupping Steve’s face in both hands and pulling him close for a kiss that he hopes feels more like he’s sealing their love and less like he’s sealing their fate. Steve falls into it either way, cupping his hand over Bucky’s beard and kissing back so desperately that it digs in something sharp into Bucky’s heart that makes it hurt deep inside where Steve is the only person who ever touches.
Bucky doesn’t want to say goodbye, but Steve.. Steve doesn’t even know how, Bucky begins to understand. Steve has never really been given the chance. At least not yet.
Now is not how Bucky wanted him to begin to learn, but it is what it is, and for Steve- it’s about to be how things were. Bucky pulls back so they can breathe, but doesn’t pull away. He lets Steve breath him in instead, wanting to surround him for as long as he can. But eventually… eventually it has to come to an end, even though neither of them want to let go enough to allow that to happen.
Bucky’s not sure he’d ever be able to, so it’s probably best that Steve is the one who does. He kisses Bucky one last time while they’re alone and curls his fingers closer so he can whisper into the space between them before finally stepping away. “I love you.” Then, shaky in timbre but sure in tone, “I’m going to come home.”
Bucky curls his fingers before letting him go too. “I love you,” he murmurs back. “And I know.”
It doesn’t feel like it’s enough, but that's the thing about goodbyes. They never do. Bucky knows that by now, but he still wishes he could let this happen without feeling like he’s letting Steve down.
Shuri and T’Challa are prepared as promised when they finally join them in the other room of the lab, an area where there’s less tables and more space for experiments and procedures such as this. Though, upon first look, the stone that’s supposed to send Steve back to his past doesn’t look like much. It’s small, really, about the size of a skipping rock that Bucky would have picked up and thrown back in Brooklyn on the beach. The only thing seemingly special about it is the fact that it’s glowing blue, bright enough to throw the hue off onto the small that it’s set on, surrounded by a dish that’s only about half an inch deep.
Steve is cautious upon seeing it. Bucky has heard stories about what happened to the last man that tried to hold something similar, though he doubts the same harm will come to Steve considering this stuff was already inside of him. Steve still crosses his arms as he circles closer. “This is it? This is what’s going to send me back?”
If Shuri is insulted by his skepticism over the appearance of her work, she at least hides it when she speaks, nodding as she answers. “It is.”
“So I just…” Steve gestures, mimicking a poking movement towards the stone and turning guiltily when he heads Bucky take in a sharp breath. “I wasn’t gonna touch it yet,” he tells them all, though Bucky is the only one who needs to hear it.
“It’s a good thing,” Shuri informs him. “I’ve been working with gloves on, but one touch of your skin to the stone, and,” she snaps. “You’ll be gone.” Steve turns a little greet at having to hear that said so frankly. Bucky is thankful when T’Challa and all his tact decide to step in and take some of the strain over.
“We will not make you do this until you’re ready, Captain Rogers,” he promises him. Then, glancing at Bucky and back to the man before him, “As soon as you are. Not one second more.”
Bucky can’t stand seeing Steve spend the last few seconds he has left here without holding him one more time, for one more moment, one more chance to tell him that it’s going to all be fine. He steps to him so quickly that Shuri clicks her tongue at his proximity to the stone, but Bucky doesn’t mind. He’s not focused on that when he has one last chance to say goodbye.
Steve isn’t crying this time, but his already sad smile does crumple a little when Bucky pulls him in for what this time really is their final hug. “Buck,” he breathes out, clinging to his neck the same way he’s done since they were kids. “It’s gonna be fine.”
Bucky laughs thickly and tugs on Steve’s cowlick. That’s another last time. “I’m supposed to be saying that to you, sunshine.” He pulls back and smooths a hand over the side of Steve’s face. He says it himself anyways. “It’s gonna be fine.” He tips their forehead together. “You’ll find me. I’ll find you.”
“Always do,” Steve whispers. “‘Til the end of the line.” And there’s a last time yet again, at least for now. “Remember the note, okay? And just- keep me in mind?” It’s his turn to laugh, just as thickly as Bucky had. “At least one of us has got to remember that damn goat’s name.”
Bucky smiles, and it’s teasy, but it’s real. All the things they’ve shared these past few days are. “You go give ‘em hell for me, Rogers.”
“I will, Buck,” Steve says. “It’s always for you.” There’s a finality in that statement that Bucky knows he’s not supposed to break. He doesn’t say anything more though there are a million thingns that come to mind.
They share a last kiss that Bucky can see Shuri and T’Challa turn away from. He doesn’t think he’d care even if they were watching. What he shares with Steve is not something that brings him shame at any time, let alone a time like this. When they finally break away, it’s with an encouraging nod and a last clap on the cheek as Bucky steps back to let Steve have the center of the room to himself.
He’s not by himself. Not like this. Bucky promised he’d stay by his side until the end, and he will. Even when Steve smiles one last time at him, tips his head, and reaches forward to touch his hand to the top of the stone.
For a second, nothing happens, and Bucky’s heart stops . Then, just as Shuri said, there's a flash of light that fills the room, and when it’s finally dimmed- Steve is gone.
Bucky’s heart doesn’t start back up.
-
Bucky has felt lost more than a few times in his life. Before the Soldier. While the Soldier. After the brainwashing. During the war. He’s- like Steve said- not had an easy life either.
That doesn’t make it any easier to walk out of that laboratory door alone.
He makes his way to his room with the drawing and sketchbook Steve gave him in hand as was asked, but he feels almost numb. There’s a sense of completed duty there as well, but… there’s loss. It’s hard to explain. He’s not alone at all when he steps back to see his surroundings, both physically and otherwise. He has friends here. With his memories back, he has a history. Even without Steve here, he has a home. And he still does have Steve. That’s not something that has changed.
Like he said, it’s just hard to explain.
When he gets down to the bedroom that he had held Steve in not twenty four hours before, he’s still trying to figure out exactly what words he’s supposed to use in order to get what just happened across to the Steve he can still talk to on the phone. He’ll be getting ready for bed now. Bucky needs to call him soon- he’d made it a promise, and Bucky Barnes is not a man who likes breaking one of those.
When he kicks off his boots to settle on the bed, he glances to the nightstand and notices the tablet that stays down here in case he wants to call Steve while spending the night in the palace but forgets his phone. He has his phone with him now, but really… he thinks it’d be nice to see his boyfriend’s face.
Steve picks up after a few long rings of the Skype call, but eventually answers, even if he does look sort of surprised. It’s not their usual call that for the tablet. He opens his mouth, looking like he’s going to ask why Bucky’s breaking their usual protocol, but Bucky can track the exact moment Steve must be able to read what’s written across his face. He shuts his mouth and waits a full three seconds before opening it once more.
“Hi, Buck,” he says softly, shifting up in whatever bed that he’s laying in to switch on a light that only illuminates on Bucky’s end the sight of a blank wall. “Is everything… are you alright?”
Bucky sighs and tries to smile, but despite it only being one in the afternoon, he already feels tired. “I’m doing okay,” he eventually answers. “It’s been a tough morning.” Steve doesn’t have to ask why, and Bucky doesn’t give him the chance to. “T’Challa and Shuri helped send him back a little while ago. We only found out they were going to do it last night, so… it’s just been…” He trails off and has to swallow before he speaks again. “I’ll be honest, honey, it’s been a lot.” He doesn’t try and hide how he’s feeling. Why should he? These are things Steve probably felt once himself.
“Oh,” Steve gets out, quiet and a little surprised. It makes Bucky feel a bit better hearing that he’d been putting off thinking about this too. They’d all known this was what had to happen, but knowing and experiencing are two very different different things to have to move between so soon. “Are you okay?”
That’s a question Bucky might internall scoff at coming from anyone but Steve, but it does come from Steve, and that’s how he knows it’s meant genuinely. He has to take a second to think over what he wants to say as his response. “I will be,” he settles on. “It’s just going to take some getting used to, you know?”
Steve huffs. He definitely knows. He’d had to see Bucky come back to life and then almost kill him at least twice. He’s had plenty of experience with the getting used to process himself. “I think I have some idea.” They’re both quiet for a moment before he offers up another tidbit to the conversation, Bucky now looking away from the screen in favor of tipping his head back to gaze at the ceiling. “It’s been a weird fucking week.”
Bucky laughs, even if it’s half hearted. “Language, Captain.”
Steve groans, over the top and too whiny to be seen as threatening as he probably intends it. Really, he probably intends the dramatics to be a distraction. Bucky appreciates it more than he can say. “I’m not a Captain anymore, Buck. Fuck off.”
“I’ll fuck something, alright,” Bucky tells him, but his usually filthy joking falls a bit flat as he spots the sketchbook beside him and remembers what he’s supposed to do. He pauses and picks it up out of frame where Steve can’t see, studying the cover. “You think that you would have wanted to talk to him if you had gotten the chance?” It’s weird, referring to him in the past tense, though that’s always been where he’s from.
Steve’s answer comes out surprisingly blunt. “No, not really.” Then, at Bucky’s raised eyebrows, he backtracks with a flustered look. “I mean, I’m a little sad I didn’t, but- I don’t think he would have wanted that. It would have been like… looking at the better option he already felt like you were wanting to have there instead of him.” Steve gets suddenly soft as he speaks, and Bucky’s listening has to turn intent. It must be tough having to explain how two people feel when both of them are technically yourself. “Why put myself through that?”
Bucky blinks. He hadn’t actually thought of it like that. The Steve he’d had with him for the last few days may have been low down, but he wasn’t lesser. He was a little younger and more closed off, but he wasn’t a second choice. It pains Bucky to even think of him feeling that way. “Well,” Bucky says after a moment, still fiddling with the sketchbook’s cover where Steve can’t see his free hand, “He didn’t seem like he was too keen on talking to you, but he did ask me to read you something.”
Steve frowns and leans a little closer to his screen, like that’ll help him see more. Moron. “What is it?”
“I think it’s a note.” Bucky finally cracks the sketchbook open just to see that he’s remembering right, there it is- Steve’s swoopy scrawl on one of the pages in the very back, right where Steve had left the ripped edges of Bucky’s drawing on the page behind. Bucky only reads the top line for now. The note doesn’t look to be very long, but it begins with Steve’s name almost like it’s a letter. “Do you want me to go ahead and…?” He trails off in silent askance.
Steve’s answer is almost immediate. “Sure, Buck.” He looks interested, and if Bucky is reading his expression right, a little apprehensive about what his past self is going to have to say. “But don’t be surprised if I wrote something stupid,” he tries to joke. Bucky’s not sure if the attempt at lightening the mood is for his benefit or Steve’s own.
More than likely, it’s both. “Okay,” Bucky murmurs, setting the tablet to lean against his bent up thighs so Steve can still see his face even as he holds the sketchbook out to the side and begins to read with a clear of his throat that strangely reminds him of reading bedtime stories to his sisters. “ Steve,” he starts off with. “It feels really weird to be addressing myself, but to be honest, by now I should probably start expecting the world to be a lot weirder than I already thought it was. Waking up from the ice has only proven that point to me, but I’m pretty sure that’s something that you already know. And that’s what’s weird about this situation, isn’t it? You already know what’s in my head because you've already had it in yours.”
Bucky has to clear his throat again to continue reading, but his words still catch before coming out when he gets to some of what Steve has to say next.
“That includes the good and the bad, which means you must know how much it hurts having to miss Bucky like this too. You know what it’s like to love him and you know what it’s like to lose him. I never thought anyone else alive would be able to share that with me, but then again, I never expected to be alive at this point at all.”
Bucky takes a break from reading and looks at the tablet to see how Steve in the present moment is handling hearing this. Bucky isn’t sure how he’s handling it himself knowing that the kid who wrote this isn’t one he’s ever going to be able to have in the same way again. Those memories are his alone now. The Steve here with him now is staring off to the side of his screen with an unreadable expression, but upon the sound of Bucky’s voice stopping, he looks back at him with a small smile that’s more melancholy than it is sad.
“It’s okay, Buck,” he says quietly. “You can go on.” And with a deep breath, Bucky does, toes curling in his socks when he picks back up talking where the sight of them are blocked by the angle of his own screen.
“I don’t really know why I’m writing you this, ” he continues. “Closure, I guess. And I figure that if I’m not allowed to remember all this, I might as well try and tell you what things these last few days have taught me. Starting with the obvious: Bucky is telling the truth when he says he’ll love you through anything- even time travel and portals and all your worst problems being very literally dropped on his lap. Secondly-“
Bucky falters enough to have to halt this time, but he tries to recover best he can without Steve having to interrupt.
“Secondly, Bucky won’t say this, so I will. He misses you when you’re away. He wishes you would come home, and sometimes, he wishes you would stay. I was only here three days, and he treated me that way- I can only imagine he wishes he could treat you. He wouldn’t tell me much about where you are, but I know you about as well as I know myself, so I know that wherever you are… you’re running. You might be in better shape than I am, but that doesn’t mean that sometimes you shouldn’t take the time to stop.”
There’s a long gap of silence that sits between them before Bucky gets to the last part of the note. Neither of them say anything until he picks it back up.
“He’s not better off without you just like you’re not better off without him, and hurting yourself doesn’t help him heal. Kicking yourself out of the house doesn’t make it his home. You should know that, but some things are hard to hear. Some things are even harder to listen to, but we’ve always been stubborn, so how about you try and listen to yourself? I’m always with you in a way, which might sound weird, but it’s true. You’re me, and I’m you, and all that jazz. If you take anything from this… maybe you’ll find some sense that you lost from your youth. But maybe not. When Bucky says we’re bad at letting ourselves be taken care of, he’s definitely telling the truth. He always does. Just… make sure you try and do the same.”
Bucky thinks he’s reached the end of the note until he spots one more sentence scribbled at the bottom like an afterthought, or as he comes to find, a joke.
“P.S: tell Bucky that he’s a pain in the ass. And also tell him that he better not rename that damn goat. Signed yours, Steve.”
There’s an even longer silence this time, one that Bucky spends shutting the sketchbook and setting it to the side so he can take a good look at Steve's expression on the screen and gauge what he should do based off of his face. He doubts Steve needs space like this. He knows that he doesn’t- all this has made him want to do is hold on even tighter to his boyfriend the next time that he’s actually able to be here.
What Steve chooses to say first seems stupid, but Bucky thinks that’s sort of the point. “You named the goats without me?” He doesn’t sound actually hurt, thank god.
Bucky just laughs and tucks his hair back behind his ears while he tries to explain. “Only one. The littlest. The, ah- the other guy refused to let me call it Stevie. Made me go with Roger instead.”
“What’s wrong with Roger?” Steve defends, and it sounds so damn similar to that same kid Bucky first heard it from yesterday that his heart aches. They’ve both changed so much, but some things have been proven to stay the same.
“Nothing, sweetheart,” Bucky sighs, wishing he could trace Steve’s face through more than just the glass of a screen. He can feel his expression turn soft. “It’s a fine name.”
Steve is back to laying down now wherever he is in bed, head now sideways on screen. He yawns, but his words come out semi-seriously with what he says next. “That note…” He gets quiet, but then smiles as well. “Guess I was pretty sneaky evem back then, huh?”
Humming, Bucky lays back a little more comfortably himself. He’s heard both the latest and greatest of Steve’s forays into sneaking around from Sam and Nat, not to mention having been on the receiving end for some of them. “I guess so.” He’d had no idea what to expect that note to be about, but that was generally not it. It was more insightful than Bucky anticipated, but then again, looking amnesia in the eye can spur some self scrutiny. He knows from experience.
Steve doesn’t seem all that surprised, though. He looks contemplative more than he does caught off guard. “I guess maybe wisdom doesn’t always come with age.” He’s pursing his lips and pushing on before Bucky can be bothered to remind him he’s barely in his thirties. “I don’t want you to think I didn’t listen to all that, but… this kinda goes along those same lines. I was just sort of hoping to save it for a surprise.”
Bucky’s interest is piqued now, a welcome distraction from the events previous to the call. He doesn’t want to forget, but.. he’d like something to look forward to right now. “Save what as a surprise?” he asks, rolling his eyes when he sees Steve trying to silently debate with himself on whether or not to tell him. “Steven. Out with it.”
The blonde makes a face at the use of his given name and the order, scruff stretching out on top of the skin surrounding where his mouth has pushed into a pout. “Well, maybe if you’d bothered to ask where I am before all this, you could figure it out.”
Bucky almost never asks him that question because he’s not sure he should know the answer, but Steve is obviously hinting at him asking about it now, so for once, he does. “Where are you, then, smart mouth?” he teases, but he tracks Steve’s expression with a watchful eye.
Steve doesn’t answer directly, though he does give Bucky a hint that very much helps. “If you must know,” he says, sarcasm dying down when Bucky shoots him a look. “I can’t really tell you exactly where I am, but I am definitely not on the ground.” He sounds pleased as punch with himself, a tone that transfers over to his face when he smiles so hard at Bucky’s expression the apples of his cheeks turn pink.
There’s only one place Steve could be in if he isn’t on the ground- and only one place he could be going to in it. He’s on the Quinjet, most likely in one of the back bunks that barely see use when he isn’t on his way to Wakanda.
“What?” Bucky breathes, sitting up straighter and taking the tablet with him to brace on the tops of his knees so that Steve can better see the shock on his face. “When? How?” He rakes his hand back through his hair before he even gives the other man a proper chance to answer, too preoccupied with the fact that this news has been delivered at all. Steve is on his way here. As a surprise. With how Bucky feels, he’d say it did the job. “You’re on your way?” he asks again, just to make sure he didn’t misunderstand.
Steve laughs, still pink cheeked and proud of himself. It’s a good look on him. Bucky doesn’t call him pretty baby half the time in private for nothing. “Yeah, Buck. I’m coming home.” He sounds happy, and then a bit hesitant. “I almost thought I was gonna have to hide out the whole week in the palace so your guest wouldn’t freak out, but I guess fate has a weird way of working this stuff out.” Then, as that’s still sinking in, his voice gets shy. “You gonna remind me of all that stuff I talked to you about yesterday on the phone when I get there?”
Bucky feels like his heart is in his throat. He knows exactly what conversation Steve is talking about, but he also has a lot of other things he wants to say, a lot of other things he feels the need to remind him are true, including how much he loves him. He also wants to tell him about what happened when the other him was here. He wants to ask him to stay, and oddly enough, he has a strange feeling that this time, he might even say yes for at least a little longer.
He doesn’t ask for now, but he does nod and give Steve the softest smile that the screen can get across, metal fingers curling to hold the tablet closer so the flesh ones can ghost across the pixelated depiction of the face Bucky is going to get to see in person very soon. “I’m gonna make sure you never forget any of it,” he promises, praying to every higher power he can think of that this is another promise he’ll be able to keep. “All you gotta do is find your way home, honey. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“You always do, Buck,” Steve says sleepily, and this is something they both know to always be true. Whether Steve is sixteen or twenty seven, eighteen or almost thirty two- Bucky has his back. Whether he’s skinny or tall, feeling weak or forced to be strong- Bucky will hold him through it. Whether they’re back in Brooklyn or on Wakandan soul- Bucky will help him build a home.
And finally, whether Bucky remembers or Steve forgets- time, body, or place, he’s loved him through it all. He’ll love him if again if need be. He’ll love him always.
Bucky kisses his fingers and brings them down to brush against the screen where Steve can see but can’t feel the touch. That doesn’t matter. He’ll be able to feel everything soon. “I can’t wait for you to get here,” he murmurs. “But you should get some sleep before you do, yeah?” His eyes soften right as Steve’s slip shut, nodding in agreement. “I love you, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.”
Steve yawns into his farewell, faint and sleepy. “I love you too.” It’s not much of a send off, but it’s good enough. It’s even better because it’s not a goodbye
When Bucky hangs up, this time he feels a little less alone, especially when he looks at the wall and sees Steve’s painting hanging by the bed, then down at the mattress to see the one that he’s going to hang below. They’re two very different images from two variations of the same man Bucky adores.
Having Steve here won’t make having to say goodbye to the other one hurt any less, but this was the point of him letting go, wasn’t it? He had to leave so he could also come home. Had to say goodbye so he could then say hello.
There was a time once where Steve was a kindness when Bucky was nothing but a stranger. Bucky now knows what it’s like to be the same. Looking at the wall and holding the drawing up to it, Bucky understands what he thinks he should have known this entire time. Steve may have left.
But he’ll never really be gone as long as Bucky’s heart offers him a home.