The one forgiven sin 《Sambucky》

Epilogue 《2》

Bucky sits there, in the rocking hair he himself built up not even ten years ago. The identical one, the one he built up for Sam, is proudly standing next to his, both angled to have a perfect conversation over the table he also built up.

But Sam hasn't sat in that chair for over two years. He hasn't breathed for two years.

Bucky doesn't let himself think about it too much. He spent the last two years buried in memories, honouring Sam as not Captain America, but the perfect husband. But he also moved on.

He, himself doesn't have much time left, but he spend his days a way Sam would approve.

Right now, he is waiting for Sarah and AJ to turn up, they asked for a few things Bucky wouldn't mind to give over the memorial.

He doesn't. He wants people to remember the right things about Sam, though, so he took his time and picked stuff out.
They are carefully laid out in the living room, while he sits there and enjoys the sun.

The last thing that started dying away together with his soul and body is his hearing. Over five years ago, he was prescribed glasses so he could read, his strength left him almost a decade ago. But he still hears too much, especially for his age.

He can already picture AJs black range rover, when his eyelids begin to drop.

He wants to greet them properly, but his body isn't cooperating with him. Well, a second won't hurt, right?

So, he slowly leans back in his chair and closes his eyes..

Only for a little while.......

He sits up so abruptly, he knows he at least has to dislodge his arm or something.

Yet, when he looks around, he is surrounded by white flowers instead of his backyard. Weirded out, he looks down on himself, only to immediately notice the wrinkles being gone and his muscles at it again. Still starring at both his palms he stands up, checks for head injuries and bends his knees that normally would make them crack.

Nothing. No sound at all.

For a second, he begins to panic, thinking this either is a weird ass dream, or a hallucination. He decides it's the latter, and thinks back on if someone might have been able to drug him, when something hard and massive collides with his knees, sending him on his bum.

There, sitting in front of him, is Washington, tongue hanging out and wagging tail.

Bucky stares.

Washington whines.

But Bucky. Can't. Move.

Washington died decades ago. But a meowing sound he had imprinted in his mind makes him turn to the right, and there she is.

Alpine, blue eyes wide and judging him.

"What the fuck?" He whispers more so to himself than anyone else, but jumps up when a voice he hasn't heard since 1938 yells behind him.

"James Buchanan Barnes-Wilson! That's not how I raised my child!"

Instantly, he whips around and reaches for a knife, that,  inconveniently,  isn't there. Still, he holds his hands balled to fists in front of his face as he stares at none other than Winifred Barnes.

"Who are you?" He snarls, ready to fight this woman. Yet, she only smiles, tears running down her cheeks.

"I think you know who I am, baby boy." She whisperes, and steps closer, whipping away the tears he hasn't noticed falling. Oh, god, her hands are just the way he remembered and her voice and those eyes.

"B-but, you died. I know you did!"

"So did you, my son." A warm, muscular hand plants itself on his left shoulder and he is faced with his father, smiling brightly and proudly at him.

"We were waiting for your ugly mug to turn up here, bro." His sister to his right side smiles smugly, looking a tiny bit older from back when he was drafted. More like a woman and less like the annoying child he left behind.

"Rebecca!" His mother yells at her, before looking up at him again.
"Oh, my handsome boy..."

"You guys are dead." He deadpanns and they all laugh.

"Bro, dad already said it. So did you." Becca laughs, but he doesn't get the funny part. This is all a cruel dream, he knows it.

"Its true, sugar." His mother's hands at his cheeks are replaced by dark skinned ones and, as if he couldn't move himself, his head is guided to lean on shoulders he remembered so fucking perfectly. He cried on this shoulder, he slept on this shoulder, he bandaged this shoulder, he kissed that shoulder at least a thousand times.

"You died peacefully in your sleep. The way I always wanted you to." Sam murmurs against his temple, and Bucky tries not to lean into this hug, but he can't help it. He just... He missed him so fucking much.

But after a few seconds, he pushes away, and looks at the man he married. He looks like the day he found Bucky in that small town in Europe, in late 2015. It seems like it was centuries ago.

Then, his eyes rank over the people he calls relatives, his parents, his sister, and a man he recognises as back then Beccas boyfriend, but turned husband. Alpine and Washington are loyally sitting by his mother's legs. A woman and man stand there, way too dark skinned to be even closely related to him, but he recognises those two anyways. He saw enough pictures of his husbands family book to know those are Darlene and Paul Wilson, his parents-in-law he never got to meet. They smile gently, but joyfully at him, and Bucky now knows, Sam has his mother's smile.

In the background, he now can see more people.
He sees fiery red hair, belonging to a woman called Natalia Romanova, or Natasha Romanov, or Natalie Portman, who the fuck knows.
Next to her is Tony and Howard and Maria, and a small, but fiery woman with lengthy brown hair smile gently at him.
Steve is there, his hands loosely wrapped around a stoic Peggy Carter.
And next to those two, all of the Howlies, standing there in a mock salute, Colonel Philips shacking his head in disappointment at their antics.

He turns around to the man wearing a golden ring that perfectly matches his own. He now realizes Sam, as well as himself, never stopped crying

"This has to be a dream." He cried silently, and Sam laughs. It is an amazing sound.

"Oh, it sure is, Bucky. And it's ours. For the rest of eternity. Till the end of time, baby."

Only then, does he let himself lean forward to kiss Sam, and it's all kinds of perfect.

It's peaceful.

It's heaven.

"Do you think he was in pain?" AJ asks his mother, starring at the rocking chair, where an old man no longer breathing sits, a small smile, almost not noticeable, present on his lips. Sarah Wilson turns around to look at the man her brother loved more than life itself and smiles gently.

"No. No, I think he is finally at peace."

A/N: the end! I did promise a happy ending, right?

So, anyways, I did write this fic to cope with fatws and the end of my comfortseries and because there are rumours Bucky is about to die in Cap4, which I'm so not fucking ready for lmao. But this story also has an ending, which I hope counts as a happy one.

I also want to ask for some criticism, because I genuinely want to know your guys opinion and it would make my day to hear about it.

But, don't  worry, I already have two more Sambucky fics in my drafts, I already talked about them.

One will be posted tonight, the first two chapters of the soulmate AU! It's called 'sharing pain' and can be found on my account. Check it out, if you like.

So, once again, thanks for the support, the ✨votes✨ and the ✨comments✨ and for sticking around this long! ;)))