Beyond Saving Bucky

"Yea, well, last time I left you alone...."

Olivia's POV:

3 hours later

After what felt like an eternity—another round of fluids, a tube feed, and then an agonizing two-hour wait—Dr. Lachlan finally gave me the all-clear to go back upstairs. The relief was overwhelming, but even more comforting was knowing that Steve had been by my side almost the entire time. Except for a brief 15-minute span where he mysteriously disappeared, only to return with that adorable, mischievous grin on his face. No matter how much I pressed him, he refused to tell me what he'd been up to, which only made me more curious.

When it was finally time to leave, I should have known better than to argue with Steve about walking on my own. True to his usual stubborn self, he insisted on carrying me upstairs. Normally, I might have put up a fight, but right now? I wasn't about to complain.

As he lifted me into his arms, I nestled into him, feeling the strength in his embrace, the steady beat of his heart against mine. The scent of him—citrus and leather—wrapped around me, grounding me in a way that nothing else could. It wasn't just comforting; it was home. He smells like home.

But it's more than that. He is my home now.

Bucky was my home. He was my everything—the one constant in a world that seemed to shift and change without warning. Even now, I can still feel the gaping hole he left behind, a void that I'm not sure will ever fully heal. I love Bucky. More than I ever thought I could love anyone. It's a love that runs deep, embedded in the very core of who I am, and no amount of time or distance will ever change that.

But... he's gone. And that's a truth I will have to learn to live with, no matter how much it hurts. The ache of his absence is a companion I will grow accustomed to, a shadow that will linger even in the brightest of moments.

And in the midst of all this, Steve is here. He's the man who has stood by my side, who loves me in a way that's different but no less profound. He takes care of me, cherishes me, and in his own quiet, steadfast way, he's become a source of strength I didn't see I needed.

Bucky will always be there, in my mind and in my heart. He's a part of me that I will carry with me, a memory that will never fade. But my life is here, now, with Steve and the people who have become... my family.

I know Bucky would want me to live it—to find happiness, even without him. He wouldn't want me to be stuck in the past, to let my life slip away in mourning for what could have been. He'd want me to embrace the love and the life that's still here, still possible.

And so, I'm trying. I'm learning to live again, to love again, with Steve by my side. The pain of losing Bucky will always be a part of me, but it doesn't have to define me. My heart, somehow, has found room for both of them. I'm finding peace in the thought that Bucky would be glad to see me smile, to see me moving forward.

With my head resting against his shoulder, I allowed myself to relax fully, sinking into the warmth and safety of his arms. There was no place in the world I'd rather be. The realization hit me with a quiet, profound joy: I couldn't be happier to be here, with him, in this moment.

Everything else faded away—the sterile room, the lingering exhaustion from being sick—all of it was distant, insignificant. All that mattered was the man holding me, carrying me away from it all. As we made our way upstairs, I closed my eyes, letting the feeling of contentment wash over me. I was exactly where I belonged.

We reached our floor, and I expected Steve to head right toward my suite, but instead, he took a left, carrying me straight to his. I didn't argue, even though I'd been craving the familiarity of my own space. The truth was, I wanted to be with him more. There was a comfort in his presence that my own room couldn't offer.

As he opened the door and carried me through the threshold, I couldn't help but tease him, trying to keep the mood light. "So... your suite, huh?" I quipped, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, well, last time I left you alone, I came back to find you sedated, so..." he trailed off, looking down at me with a gentle smile. "I kind of want to keep you with me."

His words warmed me, wrapping around my heart like a blanket. The way he cared, how deeply he felt, it made me feel cherished. He carried me into his bathroom, setting me down carefully on the counter, his movements tender, like he was afraid I might break.

"I figured you'd want to shower," he said, turning to grab a towel and a face cloth, placing them next to me on the counter. His thoughtfulness made me smile.

"I absolutely want a shower. Would you mind..." I began, wondering how I was going to manage gathering everything I needed when he cut me off.

"Everything you need is already in there," he said, his smile widening just a bit, clearly pleased with himself. "I brought all of your things in here. I also grabbed a few pairs of your sweats. They're in my dresser."

I blinked, a little stunned by how thorough he'd been. "You did all that?"

He just shrugged, as if it was no big deal. But to me, it was. The fact that he'd thought of everything, that he'd taken care of all the little details so I wouldn't have to worry about them, it was more than I could have asked for.

"Thank you," I whispered, reaching out to touch his hand, needing him to know how much it meant to me. "Really, Steve. Thank you."

He leaned in, brushing his lips against my forehead. "Anything for you," he murmured, his voice low, filled with that quiet sincerity that I love so much about him. "Are you hungry?" He asks as he pulls away to look at me, his voice soft as he gently brushes a stray hair from my face.

I smile up at him, appreciating the small gesture. "I would actually probably kill for some real food."

His expression shifts, almost as if he's relieved to hear me say that. "Ok. Well, let's get you showered and changed, and then I'll make you something."

I catch the subtle way his shoulders relax, and it makes my heart swell. He's been so worried, so careful, and while I love that about him, I don't want him to feel like he has to do everything for me. "Steve, I appreciate you wanting to help me so much. But, I can do this on my own. The showering bit, anyway. I absolutely want you to feed me, though," I quip, a playful grin spreading across my face.

He chuckles, shaking his head as he meets my gaze. "Alright, fair enough," he says, the tension in his posture easing just a bit more. "But I'll be right outside if you need anything. And when you're done, I'll make sure you get the best meal you've had in days."

"Deal," I reply. I lean in, intending to give Steve a simple, chaste kiss, but the moment our lips touch, something shifts between us. The gentle pressure of his mouth against mine ignites a spark, and before I know it, my arms are wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, needing him near. He responds immediately, his hands sliding to my waist, drawing me in until I'm sitting on the edge of the counter, flush against him as he stands between my legs.

The kiss deepens, filled with a rush of emotions—relief, longing, and love—all of it pouring out as if we've been apart for far too long. There's an intensity to it that surprises even me, like we're both desperately trying to convey everything we feel without words.

But just as I'm losing myself in the moment, Steve suddenly pulls back, his breath ragged as he rests his forehead against mine. "Wait. Wait, Liv," he says, his voice soft but firm. He gives me a lopsided smile that makes my heart flutter. "Doctor said no strenuous activities. And as much as I want this... I'm sorry. I'm following doctors' orders."

I stare into his eyes, searching for any sign that he's joking, but all I find is that familiar determination. After a moment, I finally relent, letting out a long sigh. "Fine," I pout, my voice dripping with mock annoyance.

He chuckles, pressing a quick, tender kiss to my forehead. "I promise we'll pick this up later," he whispers, his voice low and reassuring.