AN: THE FINAL INSTALLMENT TO MY SERIES. YAY!
(I cannot stress how important it is to read this series from the beginning, if you haven't yet, because this would not make much sense if you start reading this without context).
Part 1: There Were Embers, And He Got Burned
Part 2: Where's the Good in Goodbye?
Take away the nightmares and you get a man of tranquil solace.
Bucky can't do that. He wasn't gifted with that ability, even though he prayed to God every waking moment that he did. It was painful to always have his eyes shut off from reality and into very vivid scenarios of Steve. It was nothing more than the usual: seeing Steve crash the plane into the ice, or seeing Steve fall from the helicarrier, or seeing Steve jump off the damn cliff with the bomb. He'd only seen one of this these events with his own eyes, but his imagination was very creative at twisting these events to the most horrifying ways possible that it sent over the edge almost all the time.
It's been five years since Steve. Bucky made peace with it. Steve may have been an idiotic punk, but he did the right thing.
You have no idea but it took Bucky a long time to delude himself to think like that; to think that what Steve did was the best decision he made for mankind.
He was selfish at first.
Oh he was.
He was outraged!
Fuckin' Steve with his stupid righteous bones and... just damn his soul to hell. You know that? He hoped his soul went to hell.
It was only after several broken kitchenware and one completely destroyed table later that he realized this wasn't a choice Steve wanted to make. It was a choice he had to make. If there were any way around it, he wouldn't have jumped off that cliff.
He wouldn't leave his team—his family— behind.
He wouldn't leave Tony—his soulmate—behind.
He wouldn't leave him—his brother—behind.
He realized... he didn't blame Steve. He just needed someone or something to blame.
Bucky felt sick when he realized this was exactly how Steve must have felt when he fell off the train and plummeted to his supposed death. Only then, he knew Steve didn't blame him for letting go; Steve blamed himself for not being capable enough to save him. Steve thought long and hard about all the ways he could have saved him... about all the way he would have stayed alive.
He stared at the broken pieces of Steve's old mug—that stupid and cheesy Iron Man mug Tony bought for him as a mock gift way before they even started to be a thing—that decorated the floor in a colossal art of disarray.
Steve did not want to do it. He didn't want to jump. He didn't have any other choice. All he knew now was that Steve Rogers did not want to do it.
It wasn't Steve's fault.
That very next day, the Avengers found him in the communal floor's kitchen, passed out, with Steve's barely recognizable mug poorly glued together.
And then, there was Tony...
Tony grieved very differently, but not unpredictably. So it wasn't at all hard to take care of Tony.
It wasn't hard to miss all the signs too.
He didn't need J.A.R.V.I.S. telling him about Tony's intention of jumping off of his own tower, because he didn't miss the signs. He knew.
It's been five years and people who saw Tony and Bucky on a regular basis would tell you what a great impact Tony has been on Bucky. They saw the slow yet obvious recovery in Bucky that wasn't hard to miss. Bucky lost the raw and absolute horrified pain in his eyes, smiled and sassed people more often and just... looked happy again.
He wasn't completely healed. They knew that. He lost the only family he had left. You can't blame him.
But Tony...
Tony's chest felt constricted.
He missed the way his beautiful blue eyes would lock with his own, as if he were the reminder he never wanted to forget. He missed the way his body would be warm against his as he embraced him with a passion only seen in movies after every week-long mission. He missed the way his lips would meet his hair, forehead, cheek, nose, meeting him every step of the way to the end of his panic attack.
He knew Bucky knew he missed him. Didn't take a genius to know that.
But Bucky didn't mind. He missed the punk, too.
He clutched at the flowers tightly before giving the bouquet to Bucky. Bucky put them down on Steve's headstone.
Bucky gave a reassuring squeeze on Tony's hand.
"Ready to go home?"
Home, he thought whole-heartedly.
"In a minute."
It's been five years since Steve and people who saw Tony and Bucky on a regular basis would tell you what a great impact Bucky has been for Tony. They saw the slow yet obvious recovery in Tony that wasn't hard to miss. Tony gained the weight he lost, lost the swollen bags under his eyes, regained his olive complexion and just... looked healthy again.
He wasn't whole. They knew that. He lost the love of his life. You can't blame him.
But Bucky...
The man freaked out in Tony's bed the moment he realized he was in Tony's bed with one arm wrapped securely around Tony.
The man jerked away from Tony and found refuge in the farthest corner of the room—god, Steve's old bedroom— all but had a panic attack about how he was disrespecting Steve's memory. Not to mention how forward he was with Tony.
Tony lost Steve. And here he was, ass and all, worming his way to Tony's heart, just now realizing Tony's could never be taken.
God, was that why he kept helping Tony? To sleep with him?
Jesus Christ, he was the worst friend in the damn universe.
"Oh Jesus, I'm sorry, Steve. I didn't— I'm not— shit. Fucking shit. I'm so so sorry."
Tony calmly stood up and approached Bucky with the gentlest of manner.
Until he slapped Bucky in the face.
"Steve's gone. I moved on. I don't know about you, but even without Steve here, I know he wouldn't be mad at you."
"How could you say that?! You loved him!"
"Right you are, Barnes. Loved. Past tense. He's always going to be someone I loved. Just because I loved him doesn't mean I can't move on. Weren't you the one who said that? That I have to move on?"
"Yeah, but not with me!"
Tony couldn't help it. He chuckled. "You supersoldiers are making me old. I love you now, Buck. It's you. Not Steve. You. He would never think to be mad at us. At you."
"Tony, you can't really—"
"It's five in the damn morning, and I only have so much sappy left. Get back to bed before I call my suit and use it to knock you out and carry you back to bed."
It's been five years since Steve and people who saw Tony and Bucky on a regular basis would tell you what a great impact on each other.
Some might say Bucky was the sun to Tony's dark day.
Other would say Tony was the moon to Bucky's starless night.
They might agree, but in the end, they'd rather think of themselves as just men who fell for one another with a deep mutual sense of love for a fallen friend.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"I... I love you, too, Tony."
Tony, pretending to be asleep just after berating Bucky for disturbing his sleep at five in the morning, smiled.
AN: I'm so sorry if this seems awful compared to the prequels... I don't know. I just feel like this is so bad.
Anyway, thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a review.