Till the End of the Line: Our Now | Stucky Fanfic

Chapter Three

Thanks for all of your enthusiasm! 

2017

Despite knowing Bucky was alive and well, the grief and guilt Steve felt still festered inside him. Most days he could go for a run and the darkness would flee from his mind for another day. Then there were days that nothing he did could help push it away. Today was one of those days.

He'd barely slept, the night filled with barely contained angst and nightmares. His appetite had diminished over the course of the past few months. His friends were all... gone. And yes, Steve knew that they'd return one day once all of this settled down, but for now it all seemed irrelevant. He was at his worst and had no one, like it's always been since he woke up from the ice.

Steve laid on his couch, staring up at the ceiling aimlessly. He felt hollow inside, which only grew worse when he thought about how Bucky's still out there and a fugitive. Any contact between them and they'll have him arrested, which may or may not lead to Bucky's death depending on how the court feels about his predicament.

And it was like he couldn't breathe.

His own trial was hell, but he was still Captain America and with that had a loyal fan base that helped convince people to listen. Bucky's never been in the public eye and his story hasn't been told, other than the statements Steve's made defending him. He'll be torn apart by the reactions of the public, especially the alt-right groups who will only see the Winter Soldier.

Then again, what if the alt-right uses him as their hero? What if they project their ideals and beliefs onto him? That's what they try to do with Steve, even though he keeps denying it over and over and over again.

Oh god. Bucky won't ever find peace within society. People won't forget. He'll be haunted by this forever, even if he somehow finds peace.

Steve's chest constricted and his breathing picked up.

Bucky's murdered people. Steve can only imagine what he remembers, watching the life slip from their eyes and the blood pour out of their bodies. He's watched men and women of all ages die by his own hand.

He was an assassin. The idea that Bucky has murdered common people is truly appalling, but the fact that the Winter Soldier is linked to such high class assassinations is difficult to comprehend.

He was a soldier. That alone was hard to handle and Steve had first hand experience. Causing so much destruction, seeing the damage you've had a hand in creating... It does a number on your mental health.

Steve's eyes welled with tears as his stomach flipped and sank.

It's not his fault. It's not his fault!

He couldn't breathe. His throat was closing up. He felt like he was having an asthma attack.

And suddenly, he was six years old and having the first asthma attack in front of Bucky.

Steve chased after Bucky, laughing as his feet stomped along the street. Bucky would look back every now and then, his grin wide and spotted with missing teeth.

"C'mon Stevie!" Bucky called.

Steve moved faster, his lungs wheezing. He wasn't supposed to exercise too much, not with his conditions, but Bucky wanted to go get milkshakes at the drugstore and Steve thought it'd be a great idea. So they ran along. Now Steve really needed a break, but he didn't want to. He wanted to go to the drugstore and he wanted to play with Bucky. More importantly, Bucky wanted him to play. He couldn't just let him down.

Bucky slowed for a moment, trying to act like he was teasing Steve when he was really concerned about his breathing. Steve caught up, but only for a second before Bucky bolted forward more. Steve let out a laugh as Bucky giggled up ahead and followed him with furious determination.