Pre War Bucky Barnes One Shots

Goodbye

WARNING: It's probably a bit depressing sorry.

It was a dark time in Brooklyn. People going missing, dead bodies showing up on the street; some mangled, some beaten, some seemingly unscathed and some unrecognisable due to their injuries. Robberies and attacks and thefts were a common occurrence now days. Your parents had told you to be careful out there, in fact they preferred you to just come straight home after school and stay indoors. But of course that didn't stop you.

Although now you know you should've listened. Maybe then things would be different.

                               ~~~~

"(Y-Y/N)?" Bucky stutters feebly as he sinks to his knees and gingerly draws your slumped body into his lap.

You don't answer, you can't. It's almost as if the wind has been knocked out of you, like you're trying to breath, trying to speak but you can't get past a certain point. You're in shock. The sound of the gunshot still rings in your ears, echoing through the air. Where did it come from? You don't know.

All you know is that you were running down the street laughing your head off playfully while Bucky chased you under the glow of the streetlights and then all of a sudden you collapsed to the ground, your whole body numb, a sharp, piercing pain in the centre of your chest and a coldness pooling around your lungs.

Instantly your vision went blurry and all you could see was your own blood dribbling across the cobblestone pavement and Bucky's feet running towards you at a more urgent pace. He shrieked your name.

"(Y/N)!" He cried out in horror.

He was close but sounded so far. Everything seemed to be soft and slow until he got to you. The warm touch of his fingertips startling, enough to bring you back to reality. Everything sped back up, everything became vivid. He was right there.

"(Y/N)?" He repeats softly with terror in his voice. "Can you hear me?"

You let out a shallow, short, raspy breath and end up choking out a cough, finding yourself spitting up blood. With what little strength you can find you touch the spot where you know you got shot and when you take your hand away to have a look you see that your fingers are slick with blood.

"No." Bucky mumbles and shakes his head, disbelief and terror in his eyes.

Your eyes flicker up to him as if just now remembering he's there. It's too hard to focus on more than one thing at once.

You can see that his eyes are rimming with tears that threaten to spill any second, his face distorting as he tries to hold himself together.

"No no no no no." He shakes his head, his voice becoming more and more distressed. "What happened? We were- we were being careful. We- we weren't doing anything wrong." He frowns seemingly confused.

"Bucky." You manage to croak out weakly.

"(Y/N)." He gasps and grabs your face, relieved that you spoke, showing some kind of sign of life. "(Y/N/N). It's okay. You're going to be okay. I'm going to get you home and then we will get you to the hospital and you'll be okay." He breathes and holds you close, sounding more like he's trying to convince himself rather than you.

"B-Bucky," you repeat, shuddering with the effort. "Bucky stop. It's okay."

You know you aren't going to get out of this one. You were shot right in the chest, there's no way you'll survive that. Something just doesn't feel right. The corners of your vision are turning black, there is a tight, restricting feeling in your chest and you feel like you're slipping further and further away, it's hard to stay awake.

"What? No. (Y/N), we're going to get you to safety." Bucky frowns and insists, starting to lift you up.

You know he's terrified. You know he feels like it's his fault. You know he knows that no matter what he tries he won't be able to save you. But you know he'll still try everything he can.

You can't help but gasp in pain as he adjusts you so that your head is in your lap. Every movement is excruciating now.

"Sorry," he sniffles, his voice thick with tears.

He sounds so broken. You focus hard and look up at him and notice for the first time how hard he is crying. Tears are streaming down his cheeks and his eyes are red and glassy. His lip trembles but he tries to stay as quiet as he can.

"Buck, this isn't your fault," you rasp hoarsely.

"Doll no, don't say that. Don't start to say goodbye. We don't need to say goodbye because you're going to be fine. In just a few days we will be back doing what we do best; causing trouble and having fun." He shakes his head and says gravely through gritted teeth.

You look up at him sympathetically and with your last ounces of strength you raise your shaking hand and place it on Bucky's cheek. He presses his cheek into your hand and holds his own hand over yours. Knowing what is coming and unable to deny it any longer he completely breaks down crying, sobs wracking his whole body and loud cries escaping his lips.

"You're my best friend Bucky. If there is one person I could share my last moments with, I'm glad it's you," you manage to whisper.

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut causing more tears to spill over, drawing in a shaky breath his bottom lip quivers violently as he feels your hand slip from his cheek.

"I love you (Y/N)," he manages to get out through his hysteria.

He looks down at that same hand, seeing that it is coated in your own blood. When he touches the spot on his cheek that you stroked he finds that it is also streaked with your blood too.

This causes his stomach to do a flip, reality hitting him hard. There was no stopping this. There was too much blood coming too fast.

Suddenly your breathing quickens violently. It's sharp and shallow and forced. He can tell from your contorted face that you are in great pain and realises that maybe this is what's best even though it's not what he wants.

Regrets run through his head like a speeding train that's breaks won't work.

I should've taken you home a different way.

I should've kept up with you.

It should've been me.

I should've seen it coming.

"Ah, Bucky." You gasp and whimper, reaching for him desperately one last time, now scared of the unknown yourself.

He takes your hand in his and squeezes it tightly, pressing it to his lips and trying to breath some warmth into it'a iciness.

All he can do is be with you in these last few moments and make them as bearable as possible.

And all he can do is watch and do everything he can to hold himself together as the rise and fall of your chest becomes less and less, and your pulse becomes faint, and your breathing becomes shallower, and your eyes glaze over.

And it all stops.

Bucky lets go of a breath he didn't realise he was holding. Feeling empty and in shock, it hasn't fully sunk in yet.

"I love you (Y/N/N)," he repeats. "Goodbye."

Before collapsing over your dead body and crying his eyes out.

He doesn't know what will happen in his life now that you're not in it. All he knows for sure is that he isn't leaving you here. Not even when someone comes and finds the two of you and tries to drag him away.