A/N: SO… I FINALLY saw 'Winter Soldier' yesterday. Yeah, I know, I'm a bit slow with some things. (chuckles and shakes head at oneself) And MY GOSH, the relationship between Steve and Bucky…! I found myself feeling all warm and fuzzy. And intensely sorry for those poor things. So now, a bit over twenty-four hours later, here we are…
DISCLAIMER: You've gotta be kidding me…! AS IF! Nope, I can assure you that I own absolutely nothing but a bunch of much loved DVDs.
WARNINGS: Spoilers for 'Winter Soldier', I guess, if by off chance you haven't seen it yet… But otherwise… None, actually. Woah, there's a first! Feels…?
THE RELATIONSHIP IN THE STORY can be taken as friendship or pre-slash, the choice is all yours.
Awkay… I'm really nervous, actually, because I don't know how this turned out… So let's go! I really hope that you'll have a good ride.
SORT OF A SONG RECOMMENDATION: ''Til I see you again' from Charlie Puth kept playing in my head as I was typing this…
Until the End of the Line
Steve's dreams had been vivid since he was a kid. They were made increasingly so by the war, waking up from being frozen and everything that'd happened since. Dreams shouldn't have gotten to him anymore. But they did. And as he lay in the hospital bed those haunting imageries were practically torturing him.
By the time he'd been forced to re-watch Bucky falling down, down, down five times he finally woke up with a loud, strangled gasp. His eyes flew wide, darting around the space he couldn't quite recognize immediately. His mind was still trapped into the past and he continued to gasp, never once realizing that the sounds eventually turned into sobs. On the bed his hand reached out, trying to grab on although it was hopelessly too late.
Steve barely had the time to regain his self-control until the room's door opened. Natasha's presence was very familiar even before she spoke. "Well, the Sleeping Beauty is finally awake." He heard a hint of relief, even if she would've never admitted it out loud. It was actually quite touching. Something rustled. "I brought you a ham sandwich. I got the feeling that you may be sick of the hospital food by now. Sam reported that you've fed him most of your food."
Steve turned his head to face her. Or rather the paper-bag she was holding right in front of his nose. He attempted to smile but had a gloomy feeling that it came out all wrong. "Thanks", he murmured, accepting the offering. To be honest eating was the last thing on his mind but he was far too polite to admit as much. Especially when he had a feeling that things like this weren't something Natasha did often.
Natasha shrugged and sat down, then lifted her legs elegantly to his bed and fished a newspaper from what seemed like thin air. The silence that followed was calm and comfortable. Still deep in thought and struggling against the hold of unpleasant memories Steve began to nibble at the sandwich. He wasn't hungry but it gave him something to do, a distraction.
Natasha, however, wasn't the type of a woman to allow him to dodge the inevitable forever. "You're going to start looking for him as soon as you've recovered, aren't you?" It didn't sound like an accusation which surprised him more than it should've. Shouldn't he know by now that she took few things like an average person would? Something about her face suggested that she understood. Maybe she did. With her it was hard to tell.
Steve nodded and opened his mouth, then closed it again. How was he supposed to explain? "I just got him back", he uttered at last and wasn't sure if his voice broke.
Natasha didn't respond, didn't offer empty words that even she didn't really believe in.
Steve wiggled, trying to get comfortable or to leave his skin. "They haven't found him yet, have they?" The unvoiced question was loud and clear. He wasn't even pretending to be eating anymore.
Of course Natasha heard the hidden meaning. She took her time before answering. "He shouldn't have survived the crash." She wasn't trying to be cruel. Sugarcoating things just wasn't her thing. Their eyes met. "But you should be dead as well. So who knows."
Steve looked towards the window. Sunlight made his eyes sting. "He's alive", he declared quietly.
Bucky didn't kill him, even when he gave the man an honest permission to. He refused to believe that his friend was lost, in any meaning of the word. He'd already lost Bucky twice. There wouldn't be a third.
/ "I'm with you 'til the end of the line." /
They both made that promise and Steve had never, ever broken a promise in his life.
Outside the hospital, unnoticed by everyone, a lonely figure stood observing the building. A deep frown appeared as a pair of haunted, torn eyes locked on a certain window. The person nearly took a step forward before changing his mind. The change of heart wasn't caused solely by the fact that his appearance would've surely caused a massive havoc.
Only a little while ago The Winter Soldier was a man without a name on a mission. And then this Captain America – this Steve Rogers – made him drop the mission. Because as much as he'd tried to convince himself otherwise since the crash he wouldn't have killed the man. Not really. And he had absolutely no idea what to think about that.
For decades – the whole of his existence he could remember – his life had consisted solely of pain and death. He was a Soldier. An emotionless machine. Steve offered him a name, friendship, mercy. He couldn't remember ever been offered those things. It was overwhelming, far too much. It was terrifying, and he'd never experienced that sensation before.
He wasn't ready, not for any of that. How could he have been? He wasn't ready for any of those things or the memories that seemed to be lurking right there in the back of his jumbled head. Like phantom pain from a long ago lost limb. He should know. They were more fragments than anything else but he was fairly sure that they were real. As real as anything was in his so-called life.
Companionship.
Bullets.
Steve's voice, telling him to hang on – and it occurred to him that he'd heard it numerous times inside his head, like a dream, ushering him on even before the first time he really remembered the Captain uttering his name.
Falling, endlessly.
He took a deep, shuddering breath and balled his fists so hard that it hurt the flesh one. Steeled himself, like he'd always done. Instead of a fall he braced himself for a jump.
He knew that he'd have to face Steve again eventually. It was inevitable. But first he'd have to find answers. Himself. Not the man Steve or anyone else imagined that he was – tried to trick him into being – but himself. Whoever that person might be.
His whole life had been wiped away and now it was time to start trying to build on the ruins.
Bucky wasn't smiling as he cast a one last glance at the hospital, then began to limp away. He was feeling far, far too much after spending decades feeling nothing and it hurt like hell. But for the first time… ever he felt like he could breathe properly.
It wouldn't be easy. He also had no illusions – he knew that he wasn't safe, that a lot of people still wanted him dead. It was possible that he'd get himself killed eventually. Or worse. But somehow he had a feeling that if there was a breath of life in him his path would eventually cross Steve's.
Perhaps they were men out of their time but at least they hadn't run out of time yet.
End.
A/N: What can I say? I absolutely love the bond between those two. I just REALLY hope that I did them justice! (gulps)
So, what's the verdict? Good? Decent? Absolutely horrible? PLEASE, do let me know! This is a bit foreign waters to me so I'd LOVE to hear from you.
In any case, thank you so much for reading! Who knows. Maybe I'll see ya again…?
Take care!