When You Were Never Mine

Boss

It was a devastating moment when Bucky went back into cryo, when the ice crystallized on the glass around him. You were sad, sure, and you were going to miss the chances at connection, but Steve was staring at his friend like he would never be able to move from this spot. Shuri had been kind enough to let you both stay in the lab after she had completed her work, letting what had happened sink in before they took Bucky away, but as they came to do just that, Steve moved to stop them exactly as you had suspected he would.

"Steve, stop," you warned, taking a firm hold of his arm, "you can't. You know that this is the safest place he could be."

"Doesn't make it any easier."

"I know."

"Can you still connect with him?"

You released his arm when he stilled, but he had yet to turn back and retract the moves he had made. Closing your eyes, you took the time to find the right words as to not completely destroy the man, knowing that your answer wouldn't be the one he wanted. You felt bad for him, losing the friend he had just found after so long apart, but you couldn't lie just to ease his pain either. "I don't know, Steve. I don't think so, but I think there's a lot going on here that none of us fully understand. We'll just have to wait and see."

"Right," he muttered under his breath. When he turned back to you, with shoulders again squared and his stature returned, his eyes went to the sling on your arm. "I'm sorry that you got hurt, and that I made you feel like you had to step in. I wasn't thinking clearly, and I wasn't in control, and...and I'm just really sorry."

"I know. I think we all are."

"So, now that you've opened that door, how's Tony?"

"I can't speak for him, but I think he's doing as well as he can, all things considered. How are you doing after everything?"

Steve paused and considered the question, and the implications of what he might say, much as you had. But after a moment, he came to the conclusion that it didn't even matter anymore; everything was broken, hurting, and desolate. What difference would it make if he just said whatever the hell he felt like? Nothing could really get much worse. "Pretty terrible. I don't think that I've ever felt so lost, (Y/N). Even when I came out of the ice to a different world, it wasn't this bad."

"Then I think you answered your own question. He's not doing much better."

"But he has you."

"Yeah, well...I worry that he doesn't see it that way, with all of this going on," you paused, with a wave of your hand at the room. "Maybe with Bucky back under, I can try to fix some of the damage back home. I just took off across the world to see the man who killed his parents, Steve, with no way for him to contact me. He didn't fight me on it like he should have. He's not okay, either."

You had been on your feet for long enough now that you began to feel the fatigue set in again, having had only a couple hours of sleep on the jet ride from home. The pain in your shoulder was creeping up on you, and try as you might, it wasn't hidden from the man next to you with legendary observational skill.

"What's going on?"

"I'm just tired." A tiny shift in position that moved the sling caught his eye, so your lie wouldn't pass.

"Come here," he offered, holding his hand out to direct you, "I think I have an idea."

"For what?"

Your skepticism wasn't lost on him, and his hand dropped to cross his arms over his chest instead. "There used to be a time when you trusted me."

"That was before you tried to kill my fiancé."