Haven [Marvel | Bucky Barnes]

Epilogue

Even after coming out of some form of cryosleep more times than he could count, Bucky was never quite sure when he truly woke up. Every time it was a slow, torturous process.

His body would wake slowly, shocked and unhappy about its changing state, yet relieved not to be frozen anymore. His nerve endings flared and burned as they fired sporadically, readjusting to no longer being dormant. His muscles cramped and tightened of their own will, struggling to regain their coordination. His chest tightened and lurched, his diaphragm trying to remember the rhythm needed to breath properly. Sometime in there his mind would wake; disjointed, sluggish and uncomprehending. Yet he would not be fully aware for quite some time.

It was different this time, even if only just.

But then, this was also the first time he wasn't immediately subjected to memory-alterations before he was even aware enough to realize he was awake. Of course it was bound to be different.

The first time he opened his eyes all he saw was bright, sending spears of pain lancing into his brain. His body, already sore and throbbing, jerked, agitated as his instinct to fight to regain control over his body took over as he was jolted back to consciousness. A ragged cry tore from his throat as his body revolted, twitching and spasming, his muscles wrenching painfully taut. But he was uncoordinated and unbalanced and all but insensible, his breathing gasping and ragged as he sucked in breath after anxious breath. Almost immediately he was slipping under again, the shock too much for his abused body.

The last sensation he was aware of was a slim hand brushing his hair back, warm and gentle on his still cool skin.

The next time he was aware again, he knew better than to just open his eyes. He waited, testing and stretching his mind.

Though disjointed and all but incomprehensible, everything came back.

That alone surprised him. One thing he did clearly remember was that he shouldn't have his mind as his own. He remembered trying to remember, only to come up with a prickling, throbbing nothing as his brain still shuddered from the piercing electrical currents it had been subjected to. There was none of that this time.

But then he was wishing he didn't remember. Memories crashed through him, each seeming more painful and horrifying than the last, threatening to drown out the few bright ones, the few good ones. He fought to cling to those ones; ones with stars and fairground rides, laughing boys and pretty girls, friends and drinks in smoky pubs; ones of sunshine and blue-eyes that mirrored his own and a sunny, sweet smile; ones with pizza and sunflowers.

And then he was out again, the last, flashing memories ones of a skinny, loyal boy and a determined, trusting woman with sparkling hazel eyes.

When at last he woke for real, he remembered.

He remembered everything.

He remembered the horrors in his past, and the deep, lingering ache of guilt and remorse that would never subside. He remembered the faces and deeds that would haunt him for the rest of his life. 

He remembered Steve, his best friend. He remembered growing up together, rarely apart and always depending on each other. He remembered the outbreak of war, of fearing what would happen to his frail friend if he was shipped off to the front lines. He remembered Steve rescuing him, his body miraculously strong and, well, huge compared to the last time he'd seen him. He remembered fighting side by side as he never dreamed possible.

He remembered remembering Steve. Those memories hurt. They followed everything he wished he could forget. They followed memories of him trying and nearly succeeding in killing his best friend. He remembered breaking free from the compulsion to finish that mission. He remembered laying Steve on the bank of the river, not knowing then why he was so relieved when the prone man before him had taken a choking breath, water coughing free from his lungs. He remembered fighting to regain every last one of those memories from their childhood and adolescence in Brooklyn, of their time fighting together against HYDRA. But eventually he had remembered, and he still had those memories now.

He remembered his bright, smiling miracle—his sunshine—the one good thing that had come out of the crushing darkness his years entrapped by the Winter Soldier had been, no matter that part of him still wondered if she was nothing more than a dream. 

And he remembered her.

He remembered everything about her. He remembered the soft warmth of her in his arms, of the cheerful sound of her laughter. He remembered the sometimes wicked twinkle in her eyes. He remembered the earnest way she'd looked at him when she told him he wasn't a monster because of what he'd done. He remembered the shock of realizing that she'd followed him to Berlin, even after the horrible way he'd left her.

He remembered the taste of her as she kissed him.

He remembered her unwavering gaze as the glass panel of the stasis unit slipped shut.

He remembered asking her to stay.

He remembered her promising with and without words that she would.

He remembered the way she let him feel whole...safe.

He remembered how she'd become his haven. 

He inhaled deeply, fighting back the welling ache in his chest that he couldn't name as anything other than anticipated disappointment. There was no telling how long he had been under. There's no way she would have stayed. She couldn't have. It wouldn't be fair to her, to expect it of her. No. He couldn't allow himself to expect her to be there.

He inhaled again and opened his eyes.

The breath that rushed from his chest was nearly a sob.

She was there.

She sat at his side, her hand raising to brush his hair back from his face before settling along his jaw as her beautiful lips curved into a smile. He leaned into the contact, his breath shuddering out of his chest as he raised his hand, tentatively ghosting his fingers across her cheek. He could barely believe the relief and the love written so plainly across her face.

"You stayed," he croaked, his voice rough with disuse. Her smile widened before she leaned down to place a kiss first on his forehead, then against each eyelid and each cheek before pressing her soft, sweet mouth to his. He drank her in, every caress of her lips intoxicating, the warmth it sent flooding through his body, making him feel alive.

Her kiss made him feel whole.

"Of course I did," she responded as she drew back, a faint laugh in her voice as her hazel eyes twinkled happily.

"You asked me to."

***

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! It's been quite the ride, and I hope you all enjoyed reading Haven as much as I did writing it!

Please take a moment to vote and comment! I'd desperately love to hear what you thought!

If you enjoyed, be sure to spread the word to anyone and everyone!

Be sure to click next to check out the companion to this story, The Ghost! It takes place in the same story-verse as Haven, which means there's a good chance Iris will make an appearance! After all, The Ghost's MC Nadine has already made an appearance in Haven! Did you see her? Why not check out her story! 

Looking for some more Bucky? Be sure to check out Dear Bucky, documenting the letters sent back and forth between our beloved Bucky Barnes and his little sister Beatrice!

And finally, as far as MCU stories go, if you're in the mood for some Loki, A Child of Two Worlds is a wee little one-shot turned three-shot all about our favourite God of Mischief's origins.

So lots to check out! I hope to see you again!

Thanks again! 

And Happy Reading!