Marvel One Shots

the end of the line is bleak (stucky angst)

bucky was walking around tony's yard. everyone was gathered, sharing their favorite memories they had of iron man. bucky felt out of place. he didn't really know tony, and tony wouldn't have wanted him there anyway.
so, he stayed away from the crowd. close enough that no one would say he was rude for not attending, but far enough away that he was rude for trying to invade their moment.
bucky's eyes fell on steve, as they often did. steve had revealed that the old man face was simply a mask. it was all just a joke (though bucky's chest still hurt at the thought of steve leaving him to have a life with peggy). he was still giving the shield to sam, passing the captain america legacy on, but he was still going to be steve.
something was different, though. bucky didn't want to bring it up. he was sure steve was just upset that he lost tony and nat, that he gave up the last chance he had to be with carter. besides, no one but them (and sam) knew they were more than just friends. he wasn't going to force steve to tell anyone yet. or ever.
only having steve in private was better than not having him at all.
••••
a week later, bucky was still trying to convince himself that it wasn't his fault steve was ignoring him. but it was hard...
steve hadn't slept in the same room as bucky since he got back from- the blip, or whatever the hell they called it. steve had hardly LOOKED at him, and when he did, it wasn't the same.
it wasn't that look that made bucky feel like the most powerful man alive. if steve had been staring into bucky's eyes when thanos snapped, bucky was sure no one would be gone now.
but steve wasn't. and now he was looking right at bucky, so why was bucky so miserable?
of course, bucky realizes it that night. the dark always brings the worst thoughts, after all. he sat up in bed, flexing his metal arm. he could almost hear it moving, if his thoughts weren't so loud.
it's been five years. of course steve's moved on. that's why everything's so different now. steve doesn't love him anymore.
it was a likely chance. five years is quite a long time for strong feelings to remain. especially for a russian assassin, such as himself. bucky still wasn't the same guy steve first fell for, so it was a wonder their relationship lasted this long.
steve was probably too nice to leave bucky. that was it. that was why he didn't go back to peggy when he had the chance. of fucking course.
so, bucky stood to go to steve's room. he may not have peggy, but steve could find someone else. someone better. anyone would want steve, and bucky didn't need anyone.
really, he didn't.
he wanted steve, of course, but he didn't want anyone else. he'd never want anyone else. if steve was happy, though... well, that's all that really matters.
••••
"steve?" bucky knocked on the door. no reply came, so bucky slowly opened it.
steve was there, but he was simply sitting on the bed. he had something in his hand (a book?), but bucky couldn't make out what it was in the dark.
"oh. hey, james."
bucky didn't even notice the slip up because he recognized the book. it had a red star on the front and- "what are you doing with that, stevie?"
"ah. well, you see, i need you to do something for me. i'm certain you won't do it without some... persuasion, so i'm here to help."
"what are you doing with that?" bucky repeated.
steve didn't reply. at least, not with words. instead, he punched bucky in the jaw with the hand that wasn't holding the book. bucky was too shocked to do much else than stare, so steve shoved him.
before he knew it, metal cuffs were around his wrists. "but, but i thought, i thought you said i was okay now? are you going to, to turn me in now or something?"
"i thought i was the one who stuttered, jamie."
"why do ya keep calling me that?"
"sergeant james barnes is you, right?"
"obviously..." bucky trailed off. he attempted to rotate his metal wrist, but the handcuffs were too tight. which was unusual... he had to have gotten them specialized to keep bucky trapped. "is this some sex thing or what? because i think you should've talked to me first about something like this."
"i don't know how ste- i can't stand you," steve stated in response.
'five years is a long time,' bucky thought. but he knew that wasn't the problem. not really. his issue was figuring out what the actual problem was.
"longing," steve called out. bucky stiffened. "rusted." bucky leaned his head back, raising his shoulders in a weak attempt to cover his ears. "furnace." bucky shivered. "daybreak." please no. "seventeen." he'd love steve since they were kids. why was this happening? how could steve do this? "benign." yeah. right. "nine." hydra has nine heads, how wonderful. "homecoming." don't comply, don't comply. "one." steve, i love you. "freight car." you let go of me on that train, stevie.
"ready to comply, soldier?" steve asked, crouching in front of bucky.
"ready to comply." bucky stared at the man in front of him. "steve?" bucky dropped his head forward, blinking slowly. when his eyes opened again, his vision blurred. he felt a stinging pain in his left cheek.
he blinked again. there was two steve's? but no. that can't be true.
bucky blinked again, mouth falling open. he could hear grunts and then metal hit the floor. the ringing reminded him of a shield. what shield?
he blinked again. "bucky, bucky. can you hear me?" someone was touching his face.
"steve," bucky mumbled.
he blinked again.
"buck, it's okay. i'm here. i've got you." steve pulled the handcuffs off, but bucky didn't move his hands.
bucky blinked.  "i'm so sorry, buck." bucky flinched away from the voice.
then he closed his eyes to blink again. his eyelids were too heavy to open back up.
••••
"bucky, come on, man. wake up, please. til the end of the line, remember?" steve was rubbing his face.
bucky opened his eyes. steve was looking at him, and that look was back. "steve," bucky breathed out, smiling.
steve smiled back. "oh god, bucky. i thought i lost you. i swear to god, james buchanan barnes, if you ever-"
bucky flinched back. 'he called me james,' bucky thought. "you, you did, you, why did, ow, my fucking head," bucky slumped against the hospital bed.
"bucky, that wasn't me. i swear. i'd never do that. i love you so much. please. it's always been me and you. that wasn't me. it was... well, i dunno who it was. he was just pretending to be me. it wasn't me."
bucky knew steve wasn't lying. he knew it was true. he'd known it while it was happening to, somewhat.
but, he still found himself saying, "get out, steve. please." bucky closed his eyes.
when he opened them again, steve was gone.
••••
bucky was currently sleeping on sam's couch. sam was gone most of the day today, and bucky knew he was with steve. he always was. neither of them ever mentioned it, though.
bucky flinched at the sound of the door opening. he had told sam he would leave the house today, get some fresh air. but, he had only moved to use the bathroom. his stomach growled as he realized he hadn't even eaten. sam would be mad, but oh well. what else was new?
"seriously, bucky?! you haven't left the house for four fucking months!" sam was in front of him now, blocking the tv. bucky didn't know what was happening on the screen anyway. "i'm sick of seeing you so miserable. if you still love him, go get him."
"he hurt me," bucky mumbled. he was staring at sam's shirt. it was wet (sweaty from his morning run with steve).
"i know. he knows that, too. and he's sorry. but he misses you. he loves you. isn't there anything he can do to fix it?"
"he called me james," bucky told sam. it didn't answer the question, but that's all bucky could remember. "he called me james and he said the words and they weren't supposed to work anymore but i trusted and loved him so much that i wasn't prepared and i-"
"and you're soulmates. which is why you can't let him go."
"i already let him go."
"he's leaving tonight. he's going to london. he says he got a job offer as an artist. he already found the apartment," sam told him.
bucky looked up at sam's face then. it was as emotionless as ever. sam was good at not showing what he was feeling. bucky used to do that, too, but bucky never felt much of anything anymore. "sounds like he's got it all planned out then. good for him. he's a great artist."
"he got the offer two weeks ago. he has to accept it by tomorrow or he loses the chance. he's waiting for someone to stop him."
"why the fuck is he doing that?"
"because he wants the person stopping him to be you. he wants you to go with him, or even for him to stay here for you."
"well, go out and tell him that i'm not stopping him. i know he's in the hall, and I'M NOT GOING TO STOP HIM FROM FUCKING LEAVING." he dropped his voice to a whisper again. "i can't do this, sam."
he closed his eyes when the door opened. he kept them closed as someone (steve. it was steve.) kissed his forehead, and whispered, "you know where to find me. til the end of the line, my love." he kept them closed after the door shut the first time. he kept them closed as sam told him he was being the biggest idiot alive (he knew that. but steve hurt him.). he kept them closed as the door shut for the second time.
when he opened his eyes, he was alone again. that's when he finally felt something was worse than those russian words being screamed in his ear over and over.
these words were in english, and they'd been repeated thousands of times since he was seventeen.
till the end of the line.
it was over now. bucky had never expected the end of the line to look this... bleak.