Bucky’s been preparing himself for this day for months, dreading it’s unavoidable arrival as the days fell off the calendar, drawing the occasion closer and closer. He’s no more ready for it now than he was the day it was announced. He knows he has to attend the event that is highly anticipated by the rest of the team, it’s supposed to be the most special day of Y/N’s life and she’ll notice if one of her teammates and best friends isn’t there.
Y/N has been carefully planning for months, seeing to it that every detail of her dream wedding would be as perfect as she envisioned it. Not many people would save their father a little money by having a small, intimate service among magnolia trees in the countryside of upstate New York, but it was exactly Y/N’s charming style.
Tugging uncomfortably on the sleeves of his black suit and adjusting the matching black tie as he inspects himself in the mirror, Bucky swallows hard. He’s not sure how he’ll take watching her walk down the aisle toward another man, but he’s pretty damn sure it’s going to hurt a whole hell of a lot. He’s determined to make it through the day without showing the pitiful state of his emotions, he doesn’t want anyone seeing how miserable he is.
Y/N had quickly befriended him when he’d moved into the compound and taken up a position on the team following his treatment in Wakanda. Charming and engaging, kind and caring, she had immediately treated him as though she’d known him for ages.
Securing his cuff links, he remembers her dancing around the common room animatedly singing the ‘Friends’ theme song that night they’d marathoned the first season together - she’d said it was an essential part of catching him up on the twentieth century. Her easy friendship had helped him to feel normal again.
A wave of regret washes over him as he thinks back on the years he’d spent as her friend and teammate, the hours of late night talks on the compound roof as she helped him through his nightmares and he talked her through her bouts of anxiety. He hadn’t realized the extent of his feelings for her until he received his invitation to the wedding. It had hit him then with full force, and he’d been shocked by the blinding pain that had overcome him, freezing him in place as his breath was sucked from his lungs and the invitation fell to the floor.
Sure, he was protective of her, missed her when she was gone, felt the most like himself when he was with her - but that didn’t mean he loved her. Surely after everything Hydra had done to him, he couldn’t possibly be capable of such a thing as love - certainly not the kind of love that she deserved. She deserved more than he could ever offer her, she deserved a man that wasn’t emotionally crippled by a past full of violent crimes, a man whose brain hadn’t been run through a blender repeatedly. She deserved a man that was capable of loving her with every fiber of his being, and there was no way Bucky would ever deny her that.
For what already feels like the millionth time today, he reminds himself: she’s gonna get married, and she ain’t gonna marry me.
He’s been visualizing this day ever since she came back to the compound with that princess cut diamond on her finger and a beaming smile on her face six months ago. He knows what he’ll do. He’ll find a spot in the back where he can hide out for the service, knowing he’ll need to take a strong shot of whiskey from the flask he’ll have hidden away in his suit jacket pocket.
The black suits feels impossibly stuffy already, though he knows it’s probably just his nerves. He adjusts the tie roughly, the image of how beautiful she’ll look in her simple white gown haunting him mercilessly. Glancing at the clock on the bedroom wall, he realizes Wanda, Natasha, and Pepper are probably helping her into it at this very moment. Shit, she may already be welcoming the guests by now.
You could try to find her, get it all off your chest now, his heart whispers desperately, but he shakes his head at the thought, shooing it away at once. There’s no way he would ruin her big day like that.
She wants this, he reminds himself. He’s going to suck it up, smile, and wish her the best. No matter how much it kills him inside.
There’s a knock at the door and he hears Steve call from the other side, “Hey, you ready man?”
He gives his appearance one last look in the mirror and tucks the flask he’s prepared into the inner pocket of his suit jacket before heading out into the cabin’s small living room where much of the team is making last minute adjustments to their own suits.
Staying in the rental cabins of the state park where the ceremony would take place had been Y/N’s idea. Being her closest friends, she had requested her teammates stay in a hotel near the ceremony site so they could fully enjoy every aspect of the wedding. But when she was informed that the park had cabins on the premises available for rent, she had squealed with delight - you couldn’t get much more convenient than that.
Bucky finds the small living room in chaos as the men struggle to prepare for the big event without the supervision of their female teammates, who are staying in Y/N’s cabin. The importance of the day is apparently getting to the anxious men, who want to do their part to make sure Y/N’s big day is perfect.
Sam stands in front of Peter, struggling to tie the younger man’s black bow tie. “Man, how the hell are you supposed tie this damn thing?” He moans.
Steve steps up to look over Sam’s shoulder at the hands fumbling with the fabric at Peter’s neck. “I’m not sure. Maybe we should go find Natasha?” He suggests. “Last I knew, she was helping Clint’s daughter into her flower girl dress.”
“Can’t we just forget the tie?” Bruce interjects, pressing a hand to his forehead. He paces impatiently back toward the window. “And has anyone seen any sign of Thor? He promised Y/N he’d try to make it, ‘if the stability of the nine realms allowed’ and all that.” He paraphrases the God of Thunder.
Sam continues to wrestle with Peter’s bow tie, cursing under his breath. His own khaki suit fits perfectly, and he’s opted for a relaxed open collar look. Bucky would never admit it out loud, but the man’s got style.
“Just calm down, Dr. Banner.” Steve says as he tucks one hand in his dark blue suit jacket pocket and extends the other in Bruce’s direction. “I’m sure he’ll make it, he knows how much it means to Y/N.” He runs a hand through his blond hair, thoroughly exasperated by the disorder.
Bucky hears an irritated sigh to his left. He notices Rhodey then, clad in his Air Force dress blues, seated in the corner of the room with his arms crossed. The Colonel’s annoyance is clearly visible on his scowling face. Visions sits beside him, wide-eyed in his human appearance as he silently observes the clamor.
Bucky rolls his eyes at the fiasco. Just then he notices a cheap glass vase sitting on the bookcase immediately to his left. He picks it up in his metal hand and crushes it easily in his fist.
The room falls silent and all eyes turn to him at the sound of the shattering glass. Peter’s eyes get particularly wide.
“Forget the damned bow tie, the kid will be fine without it.” He says as he plucks the bow tie from Sam’s hands, rolls it up, and stuffs it in his pocket. Next he turns to Bruce.
“Lord of Thunder will be here on time or he’ll have to face the wrath of Y/N on his own.” He picks up Bruce’s suit jacket from the back of the a chair and hands it to the scientist.
“Service starts in 30 minutes.” He points toward the door. “Everybody out.” He growls.
Peter, Bruce, and Vis scamper out at once without another word. Colonel Rhodes also rises to his feet, a small smirk on his face as he nods to Barnes as he passes.
“Sergeant.”
Bucky returns the nod. “Colonel.” Having a common military background, they tend to understand one another.
This leaves just Sam and Steve, who gaze at him with bemused smiles.
“What the hell has gotten into you, Frosty?” Sam questions with a raised eyebrow.
“Don’t start, Wilson.” He growls.
Shortly thereafter, the trio steps outside to find a beautiful Spring day with clear skies and a light breeze gently tickling the full branches of the blooming magnolia trees. As he trails behind the Sam and Steve, Bucky sets his jaw tightly, steeling himself for what’s to come.
But there’s no preparing for the sight of the charming little wedding arch, the surrounding rows of white folding chairs with soft pink billowing bows mounted to the backs, and the long aisle she’ll soon be walking down. It hits him like a punch to the gut, making him feel as though his chest were suddenly closing in on him. He swallows hard, eyes darting around frantically as he takes in every excruciating inch of his nightmare become reality.
Just then he notices the father of the bride anxiously shifting his weight from left to right and picking at his cuff links near the guest book table. His hair is slicked back and he looks terribly uncomfortable in the steel grey suit Y/N has chosen for the men in the wedding party.
Bucky greets him with a respectful nod. “Sir. How you holding up?” He’s pleased with how steady his voice sounds but despite his unwavering tone, his hands twitch and he tucks them into his front pants pockets, slowly clenching and unclenching his long fingers in an attempt to control his nerves.
The older man sighs thoughtfully. “You know son, there’s a reason fathers dread this day.” He says with a sad smile as he meets Bucky’s gaze.
Bucky nods wordlessly in understanding. He knows the feeling. Your father’s not the only one giving you away today. In comfortable silence, they watch for a few minutes together as the guests trickle in until the bride’s father clears his throat.
“You know… I always kind of thought it would be the two of you up there.” He chuckles softly, nodding toward the altar.
Bucky raises an dark eyebrow in surprise. “Sir?” He questions, unsure of how he should respond.
“It’s just that the two of you have always seemed so…” He struggles to find the right word, but jumps suddenly when his wife sharply calls his name.
“Excuse me son, duty calls.” He hurries away, leaving Bucky standing alone at the guest book table as his mind swirls with confusion.
What had he meant by that? Bucky ponders it for a moment before making his way over to Steve, who has found a spot in the back row. He settles into the empty chair beside his friend when he feels Steve nudge him in the side. Looking up, he sees Steve holding a small stainless steel flask out to him.
Bucky pats his chest instinctively to be sure he hasn’t lost his own flask, but his hand brushes over the container still in his jacket. It hits him then that Steve has brought his own booze for the occasion. He meets Steve’s gaze, confused.
“You bring this for me?” He asks.
Steve nods. “Figured you might need it.” He says simply.
Bucky takes the flask from him, staring at it as he considers the gesture for a long while. He licks his lips thoughtfully, then begins to slowly nod in agreement. The explanation washes over him finally and he sighs, admitting defeat.
“Am I the only one who doesn’t know I’m in love with her?” He asks softly.
Steve nods, a sad smile playing on his lips. “Yeah Buck, I think you are.”
Bucky stares down at his feet for a moment as the heavy realization settles in. His surroundings slowly crank to a halt, fading far out of focus until everything around him is nothing but distant background noise.
—– —– —–
Escaping the crowd of Stark’s party, Bucky had stepped out onto the patio for some fresh air and was silently enjoying the hum of the busy city far below him. He found it strangely calming, the kind of constant, muffled noise he’d never heard from his eerily silent Hydra cell.
The patio door slid open, interrupting his solitary reflection. Glancing over his shoulder, he’d been relieved to see it was Y/N.
“Hey Buck, whatcha doin out here?” She asked in her usual perky tone. She stepped up to the railing next to him, folding her arms across her chest for warmth.
“Just gettin some fresh air.” He answered with a shrug, giving her a small smile.
“It sure is beautiful out tonight.” She said as she gazed out at the New York City skyline.
He hummed in agreement and they took in the view together in comfortable silence.
“Don’t you want to be in there partying?” He asked her after a while.
She shrugged. “Nah, I like it out here with you.” She flashed him a smile and nudged his shoulder with hers.
He chuckled, leaning a little closer to raise a dark eyebrow at her. “Not scared of being alone out here with the big, bad Winter Soldier?” He spoke so softly he was nearly whispering.
Stepping closer, she shook her head. “I always feel safe with you Buck.” She said with a wink, her eyes gleaming. The razzing was typical for them, their friendship leaning heavily on light hearted teasing.
He can’t help the easy smile that comes to his face at the playful banter with her.
He realizes suddenly how closely she’s moved up against him, her chest flush against his. When had she done that? He was normally so wary of physical touch or nearness, but somehow, he didn’t feel that way with her.
He notices then how she’s gazing up at him. All at once, his chest tightens with adoration for her and desire curls in his belly. Her eyes, usually bright and cheery, are soft and hooded slightly with… Lust? Is it lust? Bucky’s not sure. It’s been a long time since a woman had looked at him with lust in their eyes. But her gaze is pulling him in, he can feel himself leaning in to her.
This is Y/N, he reminds himself. Surely he must be mistaken, this was his teammate, one of his closest friends. Is this what she wants? Or are the lights of the city deceiving him?
Doubting himself, he steps back.
“Yo, Y/N!” Sam’s loud voice suddenly called, startling them both. “You’re up next, are you coming?”
He had meant to bring it up to her somehow the next day, but the words escaped him. She had started dating the man who was now her fiance soon after that, and it seemed to Bucky that he had missed his chance.
Over the months since, he had often thought about that night, wondering if she had felt the same way.
—– —– —–
You gaze down at the engagement ring glistening on your finger, inspecting it carefully. You know you should be excited, this is the first day of the rest of your life after all. Looking up at yourself in the mirror again, you take in the sight of the lovely white dress and notice the troubled expression on your face.
“Sweetheart?” You hear your father call. “It’s time. Are you ready?”
Turning your back on the mirror quickly, you nod, a smile on your face as you fight back tears and take your father’s arm.
—– —– —–
Bucky looks back at Steve’s flask in his hand as the first few bars of the wedding march begin to play. The guests rise to their feet. He blinks once, then twice, staring at the flask in horror as he realizes, this is it.
The moment has finally come and it’s just as he’s been imagining it for months now: he’s in his black suit and tie, hiding out in the back row, doing a strong shot of whiskey straight from the flask. And Y/N is getting married.
She’s getting married.
She’s getting… Married.
Jesus. Jesus Christ, he thinks, suddenly unable to breathe. He shoots to his feet, pushing the flask back into Steve’s hands.
And she ain’t gonna marry me. Pawing at his tie, his clumsy fingers fumble with it as he tries to release the tight knot that feels like it’s strangling him. His lungs burn in his chest, screaming for air that refuses to come.
“I can’t - I can’t do this, Steve.” He hurries away, tripping over a chair in the process. He doesn’t stop to pick it up. With all eyes on the bride for her grand entrance, he darts out unnoticed.
—– —– —–
He doesn’t know where to go, the cabin they’re staying at doesn’t seem far enough from the altar where you’re promising yourself to another man for the rest of your life. He has to get away. He lets his feet carry him, his long strides quickly creating the much needed distance.
Hours later he sits on the deteriorating wooden bench of an abandoned campground, a little spot he’d found just off the trail that weaved through the forest behind the cabins. He takes a deep breath, still coming down from his panic-induced adrenaline rush after walking the trail’s considerable length. Sitting by the empty fire pit, he’s able to breathe a little more easily, finally feeling as though he’s put enough distance between himself and the wedding.
Leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees, he does his best to ignore the ache in his chest and breathe in the comforting smell of the surrounding pines. But still the same questions run through his mind; what if she felt the same way? Could it have all turned out differently - or would she still be marrying another man today?
He groans in frustration, kicking at a small rock. He expects Steve will find him soon enough, he knew he wouldn’t be hard to track down. In his haste, he’d made no attempt to conceal his path.
A movement in the corner of his eye makes him glance carelessly towards his left. Seeing the flash of white, he does a double take. His heart stops in his chest, shocked by the sight in front of him.
She’s standing motionlessly before him, staring him down as tears well in her eyes. The white fabric of her wedding gown whips in the breeze, its hem tattered and discolored from tearing on branches and being drug over the dirty forest trail. He sits up slowly. Time stands still, the air between them thick with unspoken questions.
Her lovely face contorts in agony as she tries and fails to contain her emotion. He’s frozen in place as she chokes out a sob, clasping her hand over her mouth.
There’s no ring there. Her finger is bare.
His eyes widen as he stares at her in disbelief, his lips parting in shock as he realizes what she’s done. Lost for words to explain her actions, she shrugs her shoulders helplessly at him.
All at once he knows why she’s standing here before him now, it’s written all over her face: he hadn’t misinterpreted her that night on the balcony, hadn’t imagined the look in her eyes. He hadn’t imagined any of it.