On the bridge

"It hurts, Bucky."

He drew in a deep breath that left his lungs long and lost.

"I know, doll."

Your voice was thin and void of all hope filled substance. "I don't know if I can keep doing this."

Bucky nodded, a stray strand of hair falling into his face. "I understand."

Silence with only the faint rushing of the river that seemed to flow in another world, displayed behind an invisible but resilient curtain.

Bucky rested his forearms on top of the railing. You didn't grant him a look.

"You wanna die today?" Within in a second your throat closed and an awful feeling whirled inside you. You almost threw up.

Instead you forced back the tears which sacrifice you didn't deserve and laced your voice with every ounce of sarcasm that was left in you." Oh why would I? Life is so beautiful!"

Bucky sighed. He understood. But although he knew and respected that it wasn't his decision to make, he had that selfish hope that you wouldn't leave him behind. And he couldn't come with you. As much as he wanted. He had been stupid enough to promise Steve in a particularly bad night. It had been really a rather backstabbing move from him because Steve also was aware that it wasn't his decision to make. But just as Bucky, he was selfish in wanting him to stay because they just had gotten each other back again. And Bucky would never ever break a promise he made to Steve. Just as Steve would never ever break a promise he made to Bucky. That's not what they did.

So all that was left to say for him was an acknowledging hum, "Hmmmm."

You looked worn out, more so than usual. "Hey Buck." That knot inside his chest, formed out of the worry over you tightened and grew as he  noticed that even the last glimpse of light, of life, had left your expression.

"It's really bad today, isn't it?" No answer, no sigh, nothing.

Fear started to cloud his mind. You were slipping from him and he didn't know how to tighten his grip, how to stop that inevitable moment of seeing you fall, from approaching.

"Coffee?" he offered, hoping it would glue you to him just a little longer. Just for that moment he needed, to figure out how to get you back up to that swaying platform he was remaining on.

But there was no straw you offered.

Panic was rising up and he almost choked as realization washed over him. Was that how Steve felt that night when he lured him into making that promise? He wanted to cry. For Steve, for you, for himself. But he couldn't, it would only make the already loose grip even more slippery.

He cleared his throat, sending the pricking tears down. "Can we take a walk?" Anything to pull you away from that ledge.

Your voice sounded like the whisper of the death. His blood has never felt so cold since the moment he had gained his conscious back, over everything.

"I can't.“ He nodded, frantically searching for anything else to keep you occupied. But it was you, reaching out for the last time with your last strength. Hushed, choked up words, you never allowed him to see you cry. "Can you hold my hand?" The last life line for the both of you.

His body betrayed him like it never had before. A tear stroking his cheek, terror trembling his voice and pure fear shaking his hand as he reached out. "Of course."

He hovered his hand over yours, waiting for you to take it under your own condition. You turned your palm up, opening your hand weakly. Strong, calloused fingers, so much bigger than yours, gently folded between your death cold fingers.

The warmth of Bucky's hand and the deep lines telling tales about his life, were the only sensation you were able to feel in the utter emptiness that was filling you out.

You could feel how Bucky desperately tried to pull you back, trying to scramble the last bits of life, of hope, of will together. But there was nothing left.

You could feel the sheer despair rushing through his veins, sending his thoughts into a whirlwind of incomprehensible syllables.

You knew that if you could feel something else than those strong fingers that tried their hardest to spend comfort rather than displaying plain fear, if anything could reach through that void, thickly covering your heart, if you could, you know you would feel for him, you know your heart would sting with guilt and ache and would want to comfort him. But right now? Right now the only thing you could grant him was that little thought spiked with a few lost bits of hope that he would be ok.

Suddenly panic shot through you. He wouldn't, right? Bucky was not like that, right? He knew that he didn't get a say in this decision, right?

A deep breath, to settle you back in the emptiness, to sort out and arrange your words.

"Bucky…"

"Yes, doll?" Too much affection. Too much hope. Deep breath, eyes shut.

"Buck… Please Buck, don't make me stay."

He closed his eyes. Not caring about the tears any more.

"Doll." One last try.

"Please, Buck. Please."

Acceptance. Resigning. Defeated.

"Ok."

Tears and trembles, a steadying cough.

"Ok."

Relief rushing through the void for a split second. "Thank you."

A weak nod, forever accompanied by glistening tears.

After a few more minutes, mainly for him, you turned your head, looking at him. Taking him in for the last time. A smile, a heartbreakingly genuine smile, softened your eyes.

"You have to go now, Bucky." He sucked in a deep shuddering breath and nodded. He wouldn't fight you anymore. The last gift he would make you was letting you go in peace, letting you know he was there and that he would be ok. Your smile turned into a peaceful expression.

"Thank you, Bucky. For everything." Another nod. He could hear all the implied yet unshared things. You would have left way sooner, was the loudest of them. He squeezed your hand. He wanted to hug you so badly but he knew he wouldn't be able to expose you back to the world again, back to the inevitable. Instead he slowly untangled your hands and raised his fingers to your cheek, carefully cupping it, gentle, not wanting to cause any harm, as if it still mattered.

He smiled, a bright broken smile full of everything. "See you at the other side." For a moment you leaned into the touch. All words dissolved you gave him a small nod. Knowing he would understand every single "Thank you", every single command to "take care" of himself, every request to "don't push Steve away", to not be an idiot. He smiled brightly, the last present, before he used every ounce of strength in him to turn around and leave. He could hear you drawing in a last deep breath. He knew you would wait till he was gone. And even though he felt like betraying you, he couldn't keep one of his last promises. Even if you wanted him to, he wouldn't leave you alone, not entirely.

He walked until he was sure, he was out of sight for you. Then he climbed up on the bridge's construction until he could spot you.

Just in time to see you taking a step back, straightening up, preparing yourself. All the thoughts vanished, his heart felt like it was gripped by a cold hard hand that didn't stop to put more and more pressure on with its long cruel fingers.

He watched you climbing up the railing. He could almost feel you drawing in that last breath, letting it fill you out and banning all thoughts and feelings from your body. He prepared himself to witness your last step.

But it didn't come.

You remained in place. Standing on the edge of your so desired freedom but not taking the step. He saw your chest rising and falling in an increasing rhythm. And before he could lay a finger on that last remaining hope, before he could even form it into a vague thought, he saw you stepping back down and crumbling to the ground. His body acted before his mind could comprehend. He climbed down and started running. Too short of a run than to give him the chance to make any sense of what just had happened, his body already slowed down. His ears picked up sounds, strange and yet so familiar. It took the attention of his eyes to finally put together the scene that was unfolding in front of him.

You were there, sitting, slumped to the ground, sobbing and attempting to breathe, babbling things he couldn't make sense of. Slowly he crouched down next to you, finally his mind was connecting back with the rest of his body and he understood that it was really you, alive, barely so, but alive. You didn't leave him.

Carefully he asked, "Doll?" Broken eyes stared up at him. "I couldn't do it." Your eyes pleading now, displaying your soul breaking and breaking over and over again. "Buck. Buck. Why couldn't I do it?? Please, Buck, it has to stop. I can't, I can't…" your words were fading into desperate sobs. A few seconds too late Bucky realized that your head was banging against the railing's stones violently. Finally yanked out of his shock to have you alive and breathing, he placed his warm hand between your head and the wall, interrupting the violence. "Shhhh, doll, I'm with you. I'm with you."

Body wracking sobs were taking the lead now and after half a minute, you doubled over and heaved. There was nothing but bitter bile. Bucky knelt next to you, rubbing over your shoulder and neck, shushing you, reassuring that he was with you.

When your body had mercy and you finished heaving, Bucky carefully sat you back against the stones, that moments before threatened to smash your skull, were now offering a soothing coolness.

Your eyes, red-rimmed and puffy were loosely focusing on him. "It hurts Buck. Please, I can't take it. It hurts so much."

Bucky wanted to pull you into his arms and shield you from all the pain and sorrow but he didn't dare to touch you like that, risking to cause even more pain. He settled for his hand on your shoulder again and he looked at you with these beautiful pained eyes. You thought it was odd how something that marvelous could hold so much sadness. "I know, doll, I know. Tell me what you need, what I can do!"

"Make it stop, Buck. Please make it stop." He would give you the world but the only thing you wanted, you needed, he couldn't grant you to help with. Frantically trying to think of anything that would soothe your pain even just a fraction of it, even for just a second, he raked his metal hand through his hair. There was nothing he could do. Nothing he could offer to you. So he cried. "I'm sorry, doll. I'm so sorry!" And he witnessed how the last remaining strength fled your body and left you falling sideways, crying and pleading. Without a thought, Bucky caught you and pressed you gently against his chest. Over and over repeated whispers, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," mixed up with desperate pleas to "make it stop" and pained cries of how much "it hurts" were shaking up the night air in your little world.

The only solution Bucky could come up with, pulled up next to him after what seemed to be the span of a lifetime.

Steve didn't have to form heavy questions that would disrupt your bubble of shared hurt and despair. He knew.

So he just opened the door to the backseat, stepped next to the soul completing his and laid down a hand on his shoulder. Although Bucky was the one who somewhere along the line had pressed the emergency button on his private phone that was programmed to contact Steve and tell him Bucky's location, he still wondered for a few seconds how Steve had found them. When he realized that, yet another time, Steve had answered his cry for help, Bucky almost collapsed from relief into the grounding touch.

Bucky didn't know how long you two had been there, lost and crumbled to the ground, with him still hugging not more than your head and shoulders. Oddly he thought that your back must hurt by now, forced into a weird angle. He looked up into familiar grey-blue eyes, showing nothing but affection and understanding.

Right, Steven was here. He could help him helping you. Steven always knew what to do. Expectantly Bucky stared at him. Steve shortly directed his eyes on you. "Can you pick them up, Buck?" A short jolt of pain burned through his heart. Up until tonight Steve had been the only one using that nickname. It was so intimate, reassuring, trusting. The fact that you had used it at your most vulnerable, it made Bucky happy because you trusted him but what would he had given to hear it in another situation, far from any bridges or skyscrapers, far from pain and sorrow.

Bucky looked down at where his arms were slung around your still quivering shoulders. It was the first time you allowed him to touch you that much. Holding your hand earlier had really been the first time you ever offered the sensation of skin on skin. There had been a few shoulder bumps here and there, a few short seconds of your head resting against his leather covered shoulder. Short interactions, both of you careful not to connect your bodies more than that. Both of you touch starved but both rejecting it, detesting it even. But yearning to consider it comforting rather than threatening.

Bucky let his gaze wander over you and directed it back up to Steve. "I don't know." His voice feeling strange and hoarse coming out loud rather than in a whisper. He tried to clear his throat, tried to speak steadier, "I don't know, Steve." Helpless eyes were searching for an answer. Steve sighed, tilted his head in understanding and wrinkled his forehead in his "I'll find a solution" manner.

But there really wasn't one. Apart from the obvious.

"Can you ask?" Bucky looked back at you, frowning. He, himself was hardly able to concentrate on Steve, on anything else than the deep sense of sorrow settled in his every cell. He doubted you could make such a profound decision right now. It didn't feel fair to burden you even more with a request like this. So he opted for the option involving the least contact.

As he spoke to you, tears almost closed up his throat, "Doll. Doll, can we, can we stand up? I… Steve is here and the sun will be rising soon. I think, I think we should go. Steven can take us." He felt you going still, felt you breathing in, long and defeated, felt you preparing yourself, searching for any strength left in your body, gathering it up. You knew you couldn't stay here although you wanted to, although you longed to never move again, you knew you had to. "Yeah."

The two of you made an effort to scramble off the ground, your bodies stiff from the cold and from holding an uncomfortable position for too long.

Bucky helped pulling you up by your shoulders, drawing strength from the strong hand placed on his back. Your legs were trembling unsteadily and Bucky offered you his metal arm to hold on to. It was the easiest way of physical contact.

You held onto it, placing almost all your weight on it while Bucky forced his movements to be strong and steady. He helped you to climb into the car and shut the door for you.

When he turned around Steve was there, gentle and affectionate and patiently waiting. Bucky allowed himself a few seconds of weakness while he wrapped himself into Steve's strong embrace. "Thank you."

"Not for this Buck. You know that."

Bucky granted himself a few more moments of comfort before he broke away, nodded and surrounded the car to get in beside you. When Steve was settled in the driver's seat he peered into the rear view mirror and asked, "Where to?" Bucky looked at you, weakly holding up your seated position, head slumped against the window. He knew you didn't care as long as there weren't too many people involved. He turned his head back and answered, "Safe house. At the lake." Steve nodded, reached to the seat beside him and then offered two water bottles to Bucky. He took them gratefully but without a word and held one out to you. "Here, something to drink." words, only to catch your attention. You sluggishly reached for the bottle but couldn't find the strength to open it, so Bucky did it for you. You took two sips, half-heartedly, one to each satisfy Steve and Bucky before you passed it back with weak movements. Bucky took it and glanced sideways at you for a couple of minutes. He noticed that your eyes closed heavier and for longer periods of time. He pressed himself against the door, giving you as much space as possible. "You can lie down." You looked at him without turning your head, then you measured the space between you, considering. It wasn't really your choice when you started to slit down, heaving your legs up onto the seat. Your body couldn't manage to sit up any longer. With the last reserve of energy you lay down on your side, legs drawn up so there was still the tiniest bit of space separating you from human contact. The effort to change your position occupied your entire attention that you didn't know where the small pillow had appeared from. You couldn't find yourself to care though. And after a few moments, exhaustion dragged you deep down into a black hole and you fell asleep.