The explosion quakes the helicarrier. Bucky crawls off Steve, deep breaths escaping his lips. What did he just say? ‘Til the end of the line?
Steve laid there, almost lifeless, choking out a bloodied cough. It worked. It must have. His mind is reeling while his vision spins, but he’s alright. Bucky’s alright.
Bucky stands up with wobbly knees, his eyes not leaving the wounded man in front. Bruised face, split lips, bloody nose — he remembers him. This man, he promised him he’d follow him. He remembers. Did he follow him? The little guy from Brooklyn. He’s from Brooklyn, too. Gabe Jones. Winnifred Barnes. The 10th Avenue fight in Hell’s Kitchen, 1930. Dum Dum Dugan. Steve Rogers.
Steve Rogers.
Bucky’s brows firmly knit together as the memories flood him out of nowhere. He steps back while shaking his head, Steve weakly heaving himself up.
“Bucky..” Steve croaks, voice sounding more fragile than when he first called Bucky. “Your name…”
“James Buchanan Barnes.” Bucky continues with a swallow, the first tear dropping from his eye. He says it so quietly, as if there’s no continuous ear-splitting explosions around them and yet, Steve hears. It made him sigh in relief.
Steve’s on one knee now, barely holding himself up. His gaze doesn’t leave Bucky. Bucky continues to walk backwards, horrified of what he’s done to his best friend now that he’s aware. There’s blood on Steve’s stomach. Did he do that? He remembers now, he promised Sarah Rogers he’d never let anyone lay a finger on her son. He promised her and he promised Steve.
“Steve,” Bucky calls Steve’s name for the first time in 70 long years and Steve swears he could get used to that again. “Steve.. I’m–”
“No!”
The glass floor beneath Bucky crashes, and Steve acts and leaps out in adrenaline. He’s on his stomach, a shard of glass poking his gun shot wound while he holds Bucky’s hand tight. It hurts. This hurts, but he’s not letting go of Bucky. Never again, for Christ’s sake.
Bucky had his eyes closed, accepting that he’d fall then and there. He deserved it. Fuck, he deserved it so much that he knew he didn’t want to swim out of the water once he falls. But he didn’t fall, and it occurs to him that there’s a hand gripping his wrist. He looks up.
Steve grits his teeth and groans both from Bucky’s weight and the sharp pain on his torso. He thinks he dislocated a shoulder too.
“Bucky, hang on!” Steve yells with the same intensity as when they were on the train, sending a wave of nostalgia through Bucky. “Please. Please hang on.”
The desperation in Steve’s voice hurt Bucky to the bones, a first in a while. He’s feeling all sorts of emotions that were probably prohibited by whatever the hell HYDRA’s been injecting him whenever he’s out of cryostasis and before missions. He’s feeling anguish, confusion, happiness, hatred, relief. He takes a shaky breath.
“I hurt you!” Bucky exclaims, the platform Steve is on creaking. With both their weight, it might give up too. He has to let go. “I hurt you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry… let me go, Steve. You have to.”
“No!” Steve’s voice almost overpowers the noise around them. “No. No! A-All I had to do was hold you. I’m not making that mistake again.”
Steve attempts and pulls Bucky up, both of them hissing in pain, especially Bucky. The arm Steve is pulling is the one he broke earlier in order to get back the chip. It hurts. It hurts. Steve pushes himself backwards to lift Bucky up but the pang on his side acts up again, refraining him from moving for another moment.
“I’m not letting go, Bucky.” Steve says decisively, though his gloved hand slips a millimeter from Bucky’s wrist. There’s hot tears in his eyes so he blinks them away.
Bucky could almost feel himself smile. He remembers this rock-hard headed blond, this unwavering stubbornness.
Sadly, they’ve got no time. It seems like they never have enough in most circumstances.
“Then I will.” Bucky responds, his metal hand reaching for Steve’s hand. He unwraps it from his wrist, sending him plummeting down to the Potomac River.
Steve claws his hand to the air, attempting to reach out for Bucky who’s too far to be caught. Again. Damn it, Bucky. Steve thinks quick; he could feel that the helicarrier is slowly falling down too. With all the strength that’s left of him, Steve hauls himself up and dives, his speed catching up with how fast Bucky’s falling ‘til he could wrap himself around him. In that bar in London he promised he won’t stop ‘til all of HYDRA was dead and captured. Aside from that, he promised that if he were to do it again, he’d jump off the train too. He’s usually a man of his words.
Bucky doesn’t process all this until he felt the pressure of water hitting him, his body safely cradled around Steve. Steve’s passed out but he clings onto Bucky as firm, so Bucky detaches himself and… takes Steve above the water and away from the falling debris. Once they reached the shore, Bucky drags Steve to the dry land, watching him cough out water. Steve’s battered and there won’t be enough sorry to make it better. To make up with everything Bucky’s done. And so Bucky mutters a silent prayer he knew, et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris, and walks out of the scene, cradling his broken arm.
He never deserved Steve. He knew this, and he was reminded again, not that he needed to be.