A.N.. Speculation is rife at the moment as to which MCU hero(es), if any, will fall in Infinity War. I have a horrible feeling we may loose Steve so here's my take on how that scene could play out as well as some hope for the future. Please leave a review to let me know what you think of how I handled it.
Bucky Barnes cast his highly trained eye over the street, firmly of the opinion that it was wreaked. The once neat road was a mess of ploughed tarmac, littered with fallen trees and abandoned cars in various states of disrepair, one of which had flown clean through the window of a dry cleaning business. That wasn't an exaggeration; the last explosion had lifted the thing two meters away from the ground. That wasn't even counting the combatants, Wakandan and alien, that had caused the carnage, still shooting, stabbing and punching each other for all they were worth. Noise and confusion was everywhere.
"What a damn mess" he commented sardonically to the woman next to him. White hair that he remembered being red stirred in his field of vision as Natasha let out a huff of mirth at the understatement. "Cover me, I'm going for the big guy".
"Never the easy target" he muttered, peaking over the bonnet of the van they were hiding behind. He raised his rifle, tracking Nat's movements as she tore down the totalled street. She rushed her target, the furiosity and strength of her attack taking the creature completely by surprise. A precise punch to the abdomen was returned in kind. Bucky's eyes narrowed and he tightened his grip on the gun he held. Even as Natasha's upper back hit the floor, however, she swung her legs back like a scorpion's tail, lacing them around her opponent's neck. After a few quick blows to his head, he went down. No sooner had Natasha's feet connected with the floor, she was off. A master at work.
As Bucky followed her with a small smile, he noticed another enemy across the way, raising his own weapon, training it on Natasha. The movements and thoughts barely registered on a conscious level. Bucky raised his rifle, squeezed the trigger and sent a small cylinder of metal on a deadly trajectory towards his skull. The creature slumped like a ragdoll dropped by a fickle child. Threat neutralised. Natasha had a clear pathway.
Bucky glanced behind him. Steve was putting his new Wakandan shield to good use, taking on two assailants at a time. The civilian he was escorting to safety cowered on the sidewalk, fear and awe clear on the child's face as he watched. Eventually Steve downed them before turning his "you alright, son?" routine on the kid. He turned around, casting his eyes about for something. Steve's expression settled as he saw Bucky, then looked beyond him. He turned to the kid, speaking a few words before handing the kid the shield. Bucky fought a pang of unease as the boy ran towards him, behind the protective barrier Steve had given him. Bucky bit it back, casting his eyes about for somewhere he could lead the child. Steve had seen something behind him. Subway steps. 'That ought to do' he mused.
"C'mon, kiddo." he instructed the boy, leading him by the arm to the entrance. The boy felt almost limp with shock as Bucky took him down into the shadows. "Go down here until the fighting stops, okay?" he told him. The boy nodded vigorously. He couldn't be more than twelve. "Stay safe, kid" Bucky said softly. Then he went back over the top, the brief reprieve over. 'Story of my life' he thought. Now to take Steve his shield.
Suddenly, a volley of fire peppered the ground in front of Bucky. It took him less than a second to locate the source. A frown furrowed his brow. His own position was at a disadvantage but he hadn't been shot yet. That was always good. Raising his weapon, Bucky sent his retort to the top of the subway station's clock tower. A dark shape fell from the roof.
Two screams of pain attracted Bucky's attention, one female, one chillingly familiar male. Bucky's head turned, the speed whipping his dark, sweaty hair across his cheek.
One of Wakanda's female warriors lay dead next to Steve, a scarlet pool spreading across her colourful clothing, then the floor. The enemy force's reinforcements had arrived. The ghastly figure of their commander towered over Steve, a curved, bloodied blade in one hand, one of their short plasma weapons in the other. The sight of Steve, driven to his knees made Bucky's heart skip a beat. 'Why the hell's he kneeling?' Bucky demanded internally, breaking into a run, a slick, dark stain on his friend's leg giving him the answer.
Time elongated. Steve rose painfully yet stoically to his feet, pulling his fist back. Bucky ran. The commander raised his bladed weapon. Bucky ran. Steve's punch connected with the bottom of the humanoid's jaw sending him flying backwards to lay insensible on the floor. Bucky kept running, noticing another threat approaching, raising his gun to target his friend. "Steve!" Bucky bellowed.
Too late, Steve noticed, turning his battered, exhausted face to the enemy, with no defences he could use. Bucky put all he had into powering forward, some part of him knowing he would not arrive in time, the rest of him not caring. He threw the triangular shield towards Steve. He reached out to receive it.
A plasma blast from the enemy's gun caught Steve in the centre of the chest, where the star had been emblazoned on his old uniform. Steve was thrown backwards several yards, slamming with bone breaking force into the tarmac. The shield skittered uselessly across the floor, coming to rest against the curb.
Bucky's first impulse was to run to Steve but he was better trained than that. 'Neutralise threats, then see to the wounded'. A quick glance and a bullet were all Bucky spared the creature who had shot his friend. A spray of blood hit the ground milliseconds before its owner.
Bucky threw himself beside Steve, seizing the taller man's uniform to drag him behind a car, feet crunching through broken glass like pebbles in the Potomac. He laid him down, checking him over. A reedy pulse still throbbed through his neck. Bucky couldn't allow himself relief yet. The larger twin of the bloodstain on Steve's leg was blossoming hideously across his chest. Steve had gone deathly pale under his newly grown beard and bruises. He coughed and winced his way back to consciousness.
Bucky was suddenly jolted back to one of his least favourite pre war memories. The day he had said goodbye to Sarah Rogers, sitting on a hard chair next to her sickbed while Steve relieved himself and took a break from wearing the mask his mother had insisted on when he came to see her. She had always been a petite woman. Even her son had overtaken her by his mid teens. But she had been solid as a rock, good humour and kindness shining out of her bright eyes and healthy cheeks. The ideal nurse. Now all vitality was drained from her gaunt face as she coughed weakly into her pillow, waking from her doze. Bucky got to his feet as a fit of coughs set in, gently easing his best friend's mother to a seated position. He poured her a drink from the jug of water on the nightstand, using a break in the fit to ease the glass into her hand and guide it to her lips. After a few gulps, the coughing subsided and she sunk into the pillows.
"Thankyou Bucky dear."
"Anytime, Mrs. Rogers" he forced a smile.
"You're such a good boy. So good. Glad my Stevie has such a good friend."
"Pleasure's mine, Ma'am" he told her tightly.
She heaved a sigh which ended in another tiny cough. "You know I'm not gonna get any better don't you?".
Bucky wanted to tell her what nonsense that was but the hollow words of comfort died in his throat.
"I want you to promise me something, James". The use of his birth name jolted Bucky.
"Yes, Ma'am?"
"Promise me you'll look out for him. He doesn't like to need people. But he needs his friend. I need to know he'll have someone to keep him out of trouble." Her breath hitched, both from emotion and the illness that would soon take her from this world.
Tears threatened to sting Bucky's eyes. "You do realise what a task you've set for me, don't you?" he asked. They both smiled. Finally he added "I'll sure try. I'll always be there for him. Whatever happens."
Relief shone in Sarah's eyes. She didn't know what the possibilities were. She didn't know that he'd let her down one day. More than once.
"Hey, Steve, you look at me, do you hear? Wake up. Come on!"
"Buck..." Steve choked.
"Yeah, I've got you right here." A burst of gunfire from one of their's drowned out the words. Bucky cast about for help, fear clawing up his throat. Steve was bleeding out and possibly going into shock. What did Bucky know? He wasn't a doctor. He needed to find one though. Fast.
"Hey!" He yelled above the din around them "hey I need a medic!" Why wasn't anyone coming? Didn't they know they were letting Captain bloody America die? Steve was drifting out of consciousness again as he lost more blood. There was only so much the serum could do.
"No no no. Don't you fucking die on me Rogers." Bucky slid his flesh and blood arm under Steve, easing him back to standing. He half carried, half dragged Steve behind the next car, his vibranium arm stopping a stray blast with a metallic clink. Heat spread up the arm, burning into his shoulder. He cried out but kept a death grip on Steve. His friend somehow summoned the wherewithal to shove himself away from Bucky. He dropped to the ground again.
"Steve...what?"
"Go on Buck. We gotta...finish evac..."
"Sorry pal, not gonna happen."
"Bucky. I...order you to..."
Bucky laughed mirthlessly. "Pulling rank, really? Nice try. Low move though."
"Worth a sho..." Steve heaved a breath.
"Steve...stay...just stay with me."
"You gotta go. Finish it...get it done...rendezvous...Natasha."
Bucky at last realised what was happening. Perhaps if Steve got immediate treatment then he'd have a hope in hell. But there was no one and nothing to help. He was going to loose him.
"Why did you have to give away the bloody shield?" Bucky heard his own voice break.
"S'I'm a stupid punk...own fault."
"Yeah. Now stop beating yourself up. That's my job you dammed idiot."
Steve's laugh turned into a cough. "Finish mission...get out of here."
'Not without you!' Bucky remembered shouting. If it were just him he would stay here until they were found or he got shot. But they had a mission. Steve's last mission. Over Bucky's dead body would he see it fail.
"I'm with you" Bucky said with tears in his eyes he would not allow to fall until this whole thing was over.
"End...line." Steve finished with his last breath, slumping to the floor.
Shaking, Bucky shoved the tidal wave of grief for his brother in all but blood behind a wall. It wouldn't hold for long. Just enough to get this done. Scooping up Steve's shield, he channeled his energies into the fight. Their last mission.
[a few months later]
"Pretty nice place." Tony Stark commented as he stood near but not quite next to Bucky, looking out of the window at the stunning Wakandan jungle beyond the city. During his deprogramming, Bucky had taken comfort in the sight of all that green vitality. He nodded his agreement, hoping it would encourage Stark to keep talking. The man clearly had something on his mind and Bucky was growing impatient with the scraps of small talk they had had since Stark entered the quarters Bucky had been given by King T'Challa. At least it was marginally less awkward today than it had been the previous handful of times they had met. There were still a few elephants in the room. Neither of them had mentioned Steve yet. Bucky thought he'd either storm out, break something or break down crying again if they did. That was normal and healthy according to Sam. Bucky wasn't sure it felt like it.
"I just remembered, I brought you a little something." Here it was.
"Really? You just remembered the giant briefcase you've been holding this entire time?" sarcasm was a pretty good distraction.
Tony grunted indignantly and crossed to the simple, wooden table in the middle of the room, setting down the case. "I had been meaning to get this over to him for a while. Didn't know where you guys were hiding out obviously so...yeah.". Stark deftly flipped the catches on one side of the case emblazoned with his company logo. Steve's old red, white and blue shield was nestled in foam packaging, the three claw marks left from their confrontation with then Prince T'Challa still marred the metal.
"Thought you oughtta have it." Tony was clearly speaking around a lump in this throat. "It was rightfully his."
Bucky picked it up and slipped his arm through the leather straps, feeling the balanced weight of the thing, surprised at how...right it felt.
"Suits you." Tony said pointedly. "Occurs to me that this world could still do with Captain America."
"He's dead. He died with him." Bucky bit out more harshly than he had intended. "But thanks" Bucky tried a tight smile.
"Doesn't have to be." Stark patted the hollow left in the case "something to think about.". The older (or was that younger?) man meandered his way out of the room. Bucky turned back to the case. The padding wrinkled beneath his touch, revealing a second compartment. Bucky lifted it off.
Under where the shield had been was a suit. A suit similar to the patriotic get up Steve had somehow managed to pull off but subtly different enough for Bucky to tell it was new. He picked it up with a surprised frown, turning his gaze to the doorway Stark had stood in a moment before. Against all expectation, Bucky found himself considering it. Steve should have a legacy.
"Well Stevie, I'll do my best but...you'll be one hell of a tough act to follow."
{Bucky Barnes will return as Captain America}
