Sebastian Stan & Bucky Barnes Imagines

Rationed Time: Part Two - J.B.B.

Pretend that most of Civil War never happened. Steve found Bucky and he was able to return to the States without charges so long as he sought help and someone was keeping an eye on him.

| Recap |

I promised her I'd come back and so I will. I'll make sure of it.

Steve's P.O.V.

Ever since Bucky has gotten to the compound, he's been....adjusting. Slowly. With everything still so rocky between him and Tony, the world, his mind--he's having a hard time. I can tell, even if he won't admit it. He's been asking about Y/n lately. He wants to know where she is or if she's even alive and I don't know how to tell him she's dead. She died a few years ago from Alzheimer's. I visited her at the hospital sometimes but she never recognized me. She only remembered little Steve Rogers from Brooklyn. She always remembered Bucky, though. When I'd visit, I'd sit there for hours listening to her talk on about Bucky. How they met, their first kiss, their first date, Bucky proposing were all favorites of her stories to tell. Of course, at the time, I thought Bucky was dead and hearing those stories were painful but also helped me remember him a bit better. By the time I found out he was alive, she had already died a few months earlier. I only wish she could have seen him again. But who knows if she would have recognized him.

In all her years she never stopped loving him. She never remarried so she never had kids. She didn't have anyone until the last few years of her life. I was all she had and even then, she didn't recognize me so really I only had her and she had a stranger. I like to think she was happy to just have someone to talk to who would listen.

A door opening quietly to my right brings me out of my thoughts. I look from my seat on the couch to see Bucky walking into the kitchen area, not even looking at me. He goes to the cabinet and grabs a glass before filling it with water from the tap. Turning his back to me, he leans over the counter, his metal forearm supporting him. I watch carefully as he takes one sip, staring off at the wall in front of him. I'm not sure if he's upset or angry. Maybe just frustrated. Regardless of what it is, there's definitely something on his mind.

After a second he drops his head to look at the counter and sets his glass down softly, looking dejected. His breathing picks up just a fraction for a few breathes before it abruptly goes back to normal. He runs his flesh hand through his hair before setting it on the counter, forcing his shoulder to hunch, showing tension. His head lowers to face the granite below him. Then it's silent for a second or two as I continue to stare at him.

"I know she's dead, Steve." I look away from him and drop my head to look at my hands in my lap.

"When did you know?"

"The first time I asked, you wouldn't give me a straight answer....I told myself it wasn't true. I just now let myself believe that it was." I hear a sniff in his direction but don't look up. There's tense silence for several seconds.

"I wanna see her." I look at him to see him glancing back in my direction, his back still to me and his shoulder still hunched. I think for a second before nodding, even though he can't see me.

"Ok."

He deserves to see her. I don't want him to hurt anymore but that's what he has to go through to heal. He needs to see her again--for closure, if for nothing else.

||☆☆☆||

When we get to the cemetery, I don't go with him to her grave. I figured he would want to be alone with her for a while. I simply pointed to the top of a small, distant hill that was crowned with her small gravestone and he took the trip up himself. On the way here, I couldn't tell what he was thinking. The fact that I couldn't read him wouldn't surprise me if I weren't his best friend, but I've been able to read him since we were school boys. I understand he's had training and in recent years he has pretty much mastered keeping a blank face, but I can usually pick through that facade. I couldn't do that today. Maybe that's because there was nothing to find. He might be feeling hollow. I know what that feels like. I still haven't decided if that is worse than feeling the pain or not.