Bucky's Anchor

Chapter 45 - Steve's Final Journey

The aftermath of the final battle was surreal. The air was thick with a strange mix of relief and sorrow. We had saved the universe, but at a terrible cost. There was so much to process, so much to grieve, but there was also this strange, new weight in the air—a tension that hadn't yet been spoken.

I stood next to Bucky, watching as Steve made his way to the platform where the quantum portal was set up. There was something in his movements, in the way his shoulders were just a little too tense, that made me uneasy. I glanced at Bucky and saw that same worry reflected in his eyes.

"What's going on?" I asked quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky didn't answer immediately. His jaw clenched as he stared at Steve, his brows furrowed in that way he does when he's trying to make sense of something. I reached for his hand, squeezing it gently, hoping to ground him. After a moment, he finally spoke.

"He's going to take the Stones back," Bucky murmured, but there was something in his voice—something off.

I frowned, my eyes darting back to Steve, who was now talking with Sam and Bruce. "That's a good thing, right? We need to put them back where they came from."

Bucky let out a slow breath, shaking his head slightly. "It's not just that," he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. "He's not planning on coming back."

My heart sank. "What do you mean?"

"I know him," Bucky said, his voice barely audible. "He's been carrying this weight for so long... He's tired, Emily. I can see it in his eyes."

I swallowed hard, the realization settling in. Steve had always been the one to put others before himself, to sacrifice his own happiness for the greater good. But this time... this time, it felt different. There was a finality in the way he carried himself, a quiet acceptance that this might be his last mission.

As I watched Steve step up to the platform, ready to take the Stones back to their rightful places in time, my heart clenched. This was it. This was Steve's last mission, and somehow, I knew we wouldn't be seeing him again.

I glanced back at Bucky, whose gaze never left Steve. His jaw was set, his eyes dark with understanding. He knew this was goodbye, even if no one else did.

"Are you okay?" I whispered, squeezing his hand again.

Bucky nodded, but his silence said more than words ever could. He wasn't okay. None of us were.

---

After Steve's conversation with Bruce, I saw him glance in our direction. My heart skipped a beat as he started walking toward us. There was something about the way he moved—calm, collected, but with a heaviness that spoke of unspoken farewells.

I held my breath as Steve stopped in front of us, his eyes meeting Bucky's first. There was so much history between them, so much that didn't need to be said. But I could see the tension in Bucky's posture, the way his fists clenched at his sides. He knew this was the end of something.

Steve stepped closer, his expression softening. "I've gotta do this, Buck," he said quietly.

Bucky looked down, nodding slowly, the muscles in his jaw working as he tried to hold back his emotions. "I know," he said, his voice rough. "But... are you sure? This is... this is big."

Steve's gaze softened, his hand coming up to rest on Bucky's shoulder. "I'm sure," he said, his voice filled with a quiet determination. "It's time."

Bucky nodded again, blinking quickly as he looked away, his lips pressing into a thin line. There was a long, heavy pause before he spoke again. "You deserve it, Steve. You deserve to have that life."

Steve smiled, but it was tinged with a deep sadness. "Thanks, Buck."

Then, to my surprise, Steve turned to me. His blue eyes held so much emotion—gratitude, sorrow, and a kind of peace that I hadn't seen in him before.

"Emily," he said softly, stepping closer, "Thank you... for everything. For being there for Bucky, for standing by him through all of this."

My throat tightened, and I blinked back tears. "Of course," I whispered, my voice trembling. "You're family, Steve."

He smiled warmly, pulling me into a hug. His embrace was strong, and it felt like he was holding onto something more than just the present moment. It was a goodbye, and we both knew it.

As we pulled away, I saw the emotion flicker in his eyes, just for a moment, before he turned back to Bucky. There were no words exchanged between them this time. They didn't need them. Instead, Bucky gave Steve a small nod, one filled with understanding and respect.

And then, just like that, Steve turned and walked back to the platform.

---

I could barely watch as Steve stepped onto the platform, holding the case with the Infinity Stones in his hands. There was a strange kind of stillness that settled over us, the quiet before something big, something irreversible.

I stood next to Bucky, my heart pounding in my chest as Bruce began to activate the machine. "Five seconds," Bruce announced, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation. "That's all it'll take."

I held my breath as Steve disappeared in a flash of light, my eyes fixed on the spot where he had just been standing. Five seconds passed, and then five more, but Steve didn't return. My stomach twisted, and I felt Bucky's grip on my hand tighten.

"Where is he?" Sam asked, his voice breaking the silence. "He should be back by now."

Bucky didn't answer. He was already looking toward the bench by the lake, and when I followed his gaze, my heart sank. There, sitting quietly and watching the water, was an old man.

I felt Bucky tense beside me, and without a word, he started walking toward the bench. I followed behind him, my mind racing as we approached the man.

As we got closer, I saw his face. It was Steve—older, grayer, but undeniably Steve. My heart clenched as I realized what he had done. He had stayed. He had gone back and stayed in the past, living the life he had always wanted, the life he had deserved.

Bucky stopped a few feet away, his eyes locked on Steve's face. I watched as a thousand emotions flickered across his expression—sadness, understanding, and something like acceptance.

Steve looked up at us with a soft smile, his eyes filled with a quiet contentment that I had never seen before.

"You did it," Bucky said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "You got your dance."

Steve's smile widened just a little, and he nodded. "Yeah," he said softly. "I got my dance."

---

Watching Steve like that—older, at peace—it was hard to wrap my mind around. He had chosen a different path, a path that wasn't about saving the world but about saving himself. And as I stood there, watching him, I realized that maybe it wasn't the end of the Captain America we knew. It was just the beginning of the life Steve Rogers had always wanted.