Because I'm still not over endgame.
——•——
The moment Bucky stepped through the portal and onto Earth's soil he knew something was wrong. A feeling of grim dread settled around him, like the inborn instinct that tells you when a disaster is about to happen. He'd felt it before, moments previous to his dusting. It left him uneasy and cautious despite the small relief at seeing Steve alive and well.
Wanda stood close next to him, Sam taking to the skies. From the ridge poured the masses that formed Thanos's army. The devil dogs were as disfigured and disgusting as when he'd first encountered them way back in Wakanda. Speaking of which, the royal family stood by Steve and readied themselves for battle. Bucky took that as his cue.
He watched as one by one more and more people joined the fight. The tiny man who turned huge from the airport erupted out of the rubble, the Lightning dude staggered forwards, the weird space racoon latched itself onto the shoulder of a metal man, and even the spider kid threw himself into the fray without a moments hesitation. They all came together to take back what was theirs.
One thought stayed with Bucky, even as he was tackled by a vicious creature, where was Nat? He had yet to see her and as each minute flew by he became more and more concerned.
His attention flew to Wanda who was trying to get through a horde of vile aliens. He was on his way to help when he witnessed something truly spectacular, all the women coming together in an unstoppable force. He was impressed and couldn't keep down the grin as he recalled the brief moment in which Nat and Okoye had done the same. Speaking of Nat, he couldn't see her in that team of warriors. They'd all come together yet one remained missing. Dammit Nat. Where are you?
Things were going well, starting to turn their way. Even after the whole Thanos, Captian Marvel, time machine, explosion shenanigans the battle was almost over. He was covered in scratches and cuts that would most certainly need attending to and was bone tired, even if he'd apparently slept for five years. He just wanted it over.
And it was. At the cost of Stark's life. He pulled a disgruntled Steve to his feet and met up with Sam. They watched at a distance as Pepper gently pulled away the spider kid, Peter, and stroked a dying Tony's cheek. They didn't hear the words passed between them and they only knew he was dead after she delicately closed his eyes. Steve started crying and even Sam swiped at a few escaped tears. Bucky didn't know the man well enough to feel anything other than slight regret.
In the grander scheme of things it didn't seem too bad, one life lost in favour of the many. Of course he wasn't foolish enough to say that out loud. He slipped from between Steve and Sam and made his way towards the royal highness T'challa. The princess spotted him first. "Brother, look. It's the broken white boy." The queen narrowed her eyes disapprovingly but T'challa waved her away.
"What can we do for you Bucky."
"I would like to thank you for everything you've done for me as well as offer my condolences for the losses in your army." He made the wakandan salute and felt the respect from his audience. "Do you happen to have a list of all the casualties? I just need one name." T'challa smiled sympathetically.
"We don't have any names so far. It has only been a matter of hours since we arrived back here. At best we'll be finished by tomorrow. They lost more lives than us." He patted him on the shoulder. "I hope you find who you're looking for." Bucky nodded.
"I hope so to."
—•—
The battle was over and the war was won. Natasha was still no where to be found and Bucky had made a point to be on every body retrieval team. Her face wasn't among those who'd perished in the final fight. That alone gave him hope. In the end he headed for Barton. The guy was at his farm somewhere in Iowa, recently reunited with his family. Apparently the Stark's or Potts (he wasn't sure who took who's name) lived close by. The idea was that he was going to stay with the Bartons until Stark's funeral.
He knocked lightly on the door and heard a woman's voice calling someone down. A girl in her teens stared him down as he shuffled nervously on their front porch. "Who're you?" She demanded quite rudely. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
"I'm a friend of your dad's. My name's Bucky and I was hoping I could speak to him." He tried peering around the doorframe but was momentarily distracted by the girl's unnatural squeal.
"You're auntie Nat's boyfriend?" He smiled amusedly.
"Auntie Nat?" The girl rolled her eyes.
"Surely she told you about us? We're her niece and nephews."
"Is she here?" He frowned as the girl froze.
"You don't know?"
"Know what?" A prickle of dread tingled at his spine. The girl bit her lip worriedly and called for her dad.
"I think it's best if he explains." Clint walked down the hall, drying his hands with a towel.
"Hey honey, why the long face?" He paused as he noticed Bucky in the doorway.
"He's here about auntie Nat." The towel was practically strangled as Clint turned white and clenched his knuckles hard. His jaw tightened and he nodded stiffly.
"I think it's best we go outside." Fear was eating Bucky alive. Not Natasha. Please, anyone but Natasha.
Clint absentmindedly stroked the side of the tractor in the shed whilst Bucky awkwardly perched on one of the work benches. "What happened." It came out quiet and soft. Different to what Clint would have expected. Bucky knew now that she was gone. He just didn't know the how or the why.
"We had to get the stone." Clint was having trouble breathing. "We had to get the stone." He repeated, his voice wobbling and his hands shaking. His back was turned to Bucky but the other man could still see his distress. "It should've been me. I tried. DAMMIT I TRIED! But she wouldn't give up." He started sobbing and Bucky closed his eyes at both the pain in Clint's voice and the pain in his heart. "My family, they, they don't know. They don't understand."
Bucky understood. Natasha had given her life in favour of Barton's. She'd made sure his kids had had a dad to come back to, that his wife had a husband to return to. He couldn't be mad. It wouldn't be fair.
Instead he joined Clint in his mourning, and later in drinks. They lamented over the loss of their friend and lover. They each swapped stories and managed watery chuckles through the fall of tears. Slowly, slowly, the pain began to ebb away. It was still there and it was still raw but the edge had been taken off and they could rest knowing she was at peace.
