AN: I'm sorry, but I needed to work off some angsty feels that just don't fit into my main NaNo fic. So here's a one-shot instead.
Still no BETA. All mistakes are still mine. 2am me apologizes in advance.
He remembers.
Every smile, every long cold night of those winters growing up, the ones that were passed with arms wrapped around a small shaking frame and desperately whispered prayers falling from his lips…Bucky remembers it all.
And none of it fucking matters anymore.
He finally finally remembers Steve and everything that they were to each other, but the memories came too late. Because all that's left of Steve, his beautiful golden Stevie, is a headstone.
And isn't it just so fucking ironic…the damned story of his life? He stayed away all that time, trying to find who he was and put all his jagged pieces together. Now that it's all returned, when the fog has cleared and most of the blanks are filled, the clearest realization is that Steve is there at the heart of it all. He was Bucky's home and purpose, the brilliant sun shining at the center of his universe.
Now, that light is gone, snuffed out by the enemy just as Steve was trying to end the senseless fighting and division amongst Earth's heroes.
Bucky is left kneeling cold and wretched and alone at Steve's grave and his only thought is 'Why? Why Steve?' But stone has no voice to answer, no sympathy for the way Bucky sits there breaking all over again. He doesn't feel the rain soaking him through from head to toe, can't comprehend the chilly weight of his metal arm at his side. Not even the tears on his cheeks, so graciously masked by the rain, receive acknowledgment. The only thing that Bucky knows is an agonizing emptiness, the immeasurable gut-churning grief that threatens to send him spiraling into insanity.
Steve is gone and Bucky is lost.
This time, there is nothing to bring him back.
He could try for revenge—hunt down every agent of Red Skull and eliminate every soul that had anything to do with Steve's murder. Bucky could burn the world and all the fools who allowed this to happen, who were too blind and entitled and paranoid to see the truth until a good man (the very best of them) died in the name of peace. And as the ashes fluttered to the ground in a morbid snowfall, he would find Tony Stark and make him pay for the part he played—teammate, friend, enemy, traitor…Judas in a flashy red suit of armor. Bucky would make him tremble and beg for mercy and it would all be so incredibly…hollow.
It would all mean nothing because Steve wouldn't want it.
There aren't words, and Bucky just shatters.
The scream he releases is inhuman, a guttural animalistic howl that would bring chills to any who heard it. But there's no one. Bucky is alone with his despair and all he can do is curl in on himself and let the utter devastation rip through his soul to bleed out in anguished sobs.
Why did you have die? Why do I always lose you?
The silent questions go unanswered, only the words 'Teammate, Friend, Hero' carved into solemn black marble there to give testimony.
Fingers spasm hard enough to leave bruises in his flesh as he rocks back and forth, gasping and choking on the regret.
I should have been here Bucky thinks. Sorry…I'm so fucking sorry.
It's not enough. Nothing will ever be enough. Bucky moans in abject misery, one word falling from his lips in apology, prayer, and plea.
Steve, Steve, Steve …
Bucky opens his eyes on a gasp, cheeks wet with tears.
He meets gray eyes filled with sad understanding.
"Why?" he manages to croak out.
Why show me? Why torture me with this? Why him? Why does it have to be Steve?
"I see the future as it could be. It is his fate to fall, should the coming conflict progress too far…" Wanda answers ominously, "should he find himself so desperate and alone that he takes whatever steps are necessary to fix what will be broken. But it is not certain. It does not have to end like this. You can stop this."
"Tell me what to do?" Bucky begs. There is nothing he won't do, no lengths he will not go to in order to assure Steve's continued existence. Only death can stop him…and even then, it may only delay him.
"Go to him," she answers matter-of-factly. "It is time to come out of the shadows."
It isn't even a choice. He won't let Steve face what's coming alone.
Bucky slips into the alley nearby without a word, a quiet whisper following him.
"Good luck, tovarăş."
...
...
See, that wasn't as bad as it could have been...right?
tovarăş - comrade, friend