WARNING: TALKS OF SUICIDE AND SUICIDE ATTEMPTS BELOW
Sam finishes his call with Natasha and hangs up. They're in DC, in Sam's home, and Steve has spent a great portion of the call passing around the living room. The three of them had been working together to locate Bucky before any government officials or, god forbid, HYDRA got their hands on him. This being said, Bucky has shown that he's very apt in remaining virtually undetected. He's only been caught in the background of random pictures of tourists a small handful of times in various locations across the world. Recently, however, gradually more leads of Bucky's whereabouts have surfaced and Natasha is nearly convinced it's because he wishes to draw someone out or have someone find him. The call Sam has just taken was Natasha's report on the latest lead which was a short footage of Bucky purchasing train tickets and leaving the lieu. She had made her way to the place in question to find out where he was heading.
"And?" Steve asks anxiously.
"NYC." Sam answers with a heavy sigh.
Steve's heart tightens. New York City – their home. Bucky is going home. Steve can't resist the wave of thoughts that make their way through his mind. If Bucky is making his way back to New York then it means he has his memories back. If that's the case, then Natasha's hypothesis is correct and he's trying to get Steve to meet him there. Sure he might be trying to get the attention of someone else but Steve has a hard time believing so. If it was the latter eventuality, surely Bucky would have chosen a place of less personal significance to the two of them.
"Let's go." Steve says and he immediately makes his way to the room Sam had offered him upon their arrival.
"How do we know he won't try to kill us?" Sam asks grimly, stopping Steve dead in his track.
"He won't." Steve says lowly.
According to the information Natasha has gathered, Bucky has been in New York City for nearly two weeks by the time Steve and Sam arrive. They settle into the hotel room they booked and are hardly there for more than half an hour before Steve makes his way out the door to begin his search. Sam begrudgingly follows and doesn't fail to voice his worry in terms of how off everything seems. He repeatedly reminds Steve his head is not all there in the hopes that it will get him to reconsider their plan of action but it doesn't work. Steve is so close to finding Bucky that he knows he wouldn't be able to sit around and think rationally like Sam wants him to.
The first place they cover is Brooklyn. They spend three days relentlessly going over every possible place Bucky could be waiting for them and find absolutely nothing. He's not where the orphanage used to be, not at any apartments they've once lived in, not in any of their old neighbourhoods, schools, secret hideouts, or anything. Steve still doesn't let that tear down his motivation. For most of those three days, Sam hasn't said much of a word and simply followed Steve's orders but as the night slowly falls upon them, he's getting more frustrated and impatient.
"Steve," He says with forced gentleness, "We should head back, it's getting late. We'll start again tomorrow."
"You go." Steve says and he's surprised by how cold his tone is. "I want to look around a bit more."
Sam sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index. "We've looked everywhere so many damn times, Steve." Sam says and his impatience is seeping into his words, "We should think of looking elsewhere or finding a different plan of attack. It's pointless to run around like this. We need a strategy."
Steve frowns. He knows Sam's right but he doesn't want to go back to that hotel room. Not when Bucky can be just around the corner. He wants to keep looking. He's sure they'll find him soon. Maybe Bucky is closer than they think because he's been shadowing them since their arrival. Maybe—
"You go." Steve repeats, "Make a plan or two; we'll go over them when I get back."
Sam frowns deeply as well as his glare bores into Steve's back. He doesn't like the instructions given and he doesn't really know what's keeping him from smacking Steve. He doesn't say anything else and simply leaves.
Steve keeps looking for Bucky through Brooklyn for the rest of the night.
Sam just doesn't get why he's so desperate.
It's midnight when Steve decides he should start heading back to the hotel. He's disappointed that another has not brought him any bit closer to Bucky. His heart throbs painfully knowing how close he is and yet that he's still so far away. Rather than take a bus, cab, or subway, Steve opts for walking regardless of how many hours it will take him to get back. It will give him time to clear his head and lose himself in his thoughts all at once. He's sure Sam has a speech all lined up and prepared for him anyway.
Steve feels nostalgic as he walks through Brooklyn. Every street and building he passes is familiar and foreign all at once. Sometimes he can't help but remember instances of his childhood as he passes by some street corners or the odd old shop that's dated from his time. Most of his memories involve Bucky. They've known each other practically all their lives and have been inseparable since their first meeting – up to this point, of course.
Steve remembers the games they'd play with some of the other kids, how they'd accidentally break a window with a ball and get yelled at by someone. He remembers fleeing from trouble with Bucky, laughing their heads off as they raced down the cobblestone streets or when the two of them would run directly into fights – most of which Steve instigated. Brooklyn is just filled with so many memories and Steve hardly realises how they weigh his heart down until now. Perhaps this is why he keeps finding excuses as to not return home and buy himself an apartment.
After a little more than an hour of walking, Steve finds his way to the Brooklyn bridge park. He thinks of walking through it without stopping but can't help the flood of memories that spring to mind when he admires the view of Manhattan at night. He walks through the park and finds himself a nice bench shrouded in darkness. Even back in his time, the glowing silhouette of the skyscrapers and other tall buildings at night was as breathtaking as it is now. Steve can't help but remember the many times he and Bucky have come to this location to admire it as well. Sometimes they'd even come with a few girls they took out on double dates.
But Steve's favourite memories of the place are of when he and Bucky came out here alone. When the night was warm and an agreeable breeze tussled their hair around as they sat in comfortable silence. When they'd lose time admiring the glowing lights of the city and felt like they were the only ones in the world.
Tears begin to prick at Steve's eyes. He snaps them shut before one of them can fall out and rubs the water away with his hands. The world is so different now but this very instance feels like a return to the past and Steve only wishes his best friend was here with him to complete the illusion. The things he would give to spend just one more night admiring Manhattan like this with Bucky…
And it's almost like God hears and grants Steve's wish. From the corner of his eye, he sees a movement beneath one of the street lights. Steve makes a double take and even then he has the hardest time believing Bucky is standing there, staring at Manhattan just like he had been until this very moment. He almost wants to doubt his eyes but Bucky is there. He's dressed almost the exact same way as the last time Steve laid eyes on him – the only difference is he's sporting a long sleeve shirt to cover most of his metal arm.
Steve slowly rises to his feet. He's afraid of startling the man even if a part of him knows Bucky wanted him to find him. Steve carefully approaches him and the closer he gets, the more he notices a gentle tremble shaking the entirely of his long lost best friend. What strikes him the most, however, is how tired Bucky seems. Even from a considerable distance one can still see the heavy bags beneath his pale eyes.
"Bucky…?" Steve says softly.
"Steve." He responds quietly though his exhaustion is very apparent.
Steve can't help the smile that appears on his face as he sighs in relief. His best friend is back, Bucky remembers everything. Obviously, things can't go back to the way they were, they're in the future now, but that doesn't matter because they're together again. Nothing will ever separate them anymore. But Steve's happiness is short lived.
Why does Bucky seem so…grim?
"You okay, pal?" Steve asks with a forced lightheartedness. "You look a bit under the weather…"
"Haven't slept in two weeks." Bucky replies shortly.
"That's not good." Steve says worriedly, "Come with me, we'll get you a cozy bed and some food."
Bucky does look unhealthily thin.
"I can't." Bucky says and Steve's heart shatters.
"What…?" He asks like he can't believe or misheard the answer he was given.
Bucky frowns. He suddenly seems angry though more at himself than at Steve. "I can't." he repeats stiffly and his trembling intensifies.
Steve stares at him dumbfounded for a brief moment. He doesn't understand what's wrong with his friend. "What do you mean you can't?" Steve pushes a bit desperately, "Are people following you? If there are, it's no big deal we'll just—"
Bucky shakes his head and Steve's words trail off into nothingness. His heart is beating heavily in his chest and Steve's eyes drop to see Bucky clutching a knife. His eyes widen in horror and he wants to take a step back but he doesn't. Whatever Bucky's planning to do to him, he knows it won't be of his free will and he's ready to help break the spell has been casted on him. He's done it once. He can do it again.
"Buck—"
"I know what you're thinking." Bucky interrupts and Steve snaps his mouth shut. "You think I remember everything. Why else would I be here?"
"But you do…don't you?" Steve asks slowly.
"Yes…" Bucky answers after a painfully long pause. He then turns his gaze to Steve and reveals just how miserable and pained he currently is. "But I'm not me anymore, Steve. I'm not that guy you grew up with. I'm a murderer. A monster."
"No, stop." Steve says as anger and sadness surface, "You're James Buchanan Barnes. You're my best friends. Those things you did when HYDRA had you – they weren't you."
"See, I tried to tell myself that." Bucky woefully says, "I tried to just throw the blame on HYDRA but whenever I looked at my hands, I still saw the blood of those I killed."
"That wasn't you, Buck." Steve persists, "That was the Winter Soldier and-and he's dead now. You shouldn't—"
Steve stops himself when Bucky shakes his head again. "He's not dead, Steve." Bucky says grimly, "He's still alive and I'm struggling to keep what little control I still have left on myself."
"That…you need help." Steve says softly, "I can help you. I know so many people that can help."
"They can't help." Bucky says almost regretfully. The hand clasping the knife is shaking violently and Bucky almost seems like he's zoning in and out of their conversation. "When I sleep…" he forces himself to continue with a trembling voice, "He comes out and takes control…I woke up so many times…sitting on a dead body…I can't stop him…"
"Bucky…" Steve tries.
"I killed a little girl yesterday, Steve." Bucky interrupts stiffly. He shuts his eyes and cringes for a moment like he's remembering the act. "I wasn't even sleeping. I just…blacked out and the next thing I knew she was dead…she was just playing outside with her dolls…and I killed her…" he pauses to let out a shaky breath. Steve's heart churns painfully as he sees tears build up in Bucky's eyes. He would do anything to make the pain go away. "Even now…" he continues and turns his steel gaze to Steve, "He's trying to get me to kill you…he wants me to stab you in the throat…"
"But you haven't…" Steve reminds him.
Bucky lets out a breathy and bitter laugh. "That's because there's still enough of me left to keep me from doing it…" his gaze drops to the East River. "He's going to win, Steve…"
"I won't let him." Steve declares with conviction, "I can help you, Bucky! I swear I can, you just have to let me—"
"Why do you think we're here?" Bucky asks with another bitter laugh.
A moment of silence washes over them. Steve doesn't understand where their conversation is going but he's getting a bad feeling. Suddenly, before Steve can react, Bucky is shoving the knife to his chest. The most he does is raises his hands slightly from where they were resting next to his sides out of shock. It takes him a long moment to realize Bucky is holding the blade in a trembling grip and that the butt of the knife is the only part that's actually touching Steve. He slowly takes it and he still doesn't really understand what is happening.
"This is the only way you can help." Bucky says and realization crashes down on Steve.
His eyes widen and he's horrified that he's holding the knife. "Wha—Bucky, no!" he nearly shouts and takes a step back.
"I tried doing it myself but I can't!" Bucky snaps and tears finally start falling down his cheeks, "Either the Soldier takes control and stops me or I get too scared to go through with it!"
"Bucky, I can't…" Steve says in a broken tone as he starts to cry as well. "Don't ask me to do this…"
"Don't make me beg, Steve." Bucky says and bites back a sob, "Look at me, I'm a mess as much as I am a monster—" Steve shakes his head and repeatedly mutters "no" as Bucky continues, "I know you don't want to see it but it's the truth. I'm tired Steve, I'm not even in my time anymore and by all means I should be dead—"
"I'm as out of time as you are!" Steve snaps angrily, "I should also be dead but I'm not! We're not! God, Bucky, I've been alone for three years in this strange place! If only you knew how much I wanted to give up but I found a reason to live on year four when you miraculously rose from the dead!" Bucky is staring at him with a dejected expression as tears continue to fall from his eyes, "You're the only thing I have left in this world…" Steve continues a bit more softly, "I've been aching to find you ever since you disappeared from DC all those months ago…don't leave me alone, not now, not ever."
Bucky drops his shoulders, "I can't live with myself, Steve." He says, "Don't I deserve a break? I was tortured, broken, and mangled for seventy years…I did unspeakable things and became a bloodthirsty killer…"
"I'm telling you, that wasn't you!" Steve insists through gritted teeth.
"He's still a part of me." Bucky counters with a frown, "He's clawing his way to the surface and when he does – and make no mistake, he will – you're going to lose me all over again and the only way you'll live is by killing me—"
"Stop!" Steve shouts and takes another step back, "I'm not—I won't…I can't…"
"I need you to do this for me, Steve." Bucky says as he tries to stabilize the tremble in his voice. "If I'm going to die, I want it to be while I'm still me."
"And what about me!?" Steve retorts, "What do you think this does to me!? That my best friend…that the guy I've been in love with ever since I was a kid wants me to kill him!"
Steve expects the stunned expression that wins over Bucky's features. This isn't how he ever imagined telling him how he has always felt but if Bucky has a heart, he won't make him do this. He'll let Steve help him some other way.
"W…what?" He asks softly.
"I…I love you." Steve says and stiffens his lower lip. "I love you so damn much. Don't make me do this to you…just let me help you some other way…"
Bucky unexpectedly falls to his knees and it worries Steve so much that he throws himself to the ground and by his side. He reaches to touch him but Bucky snaps at him before he can.
"You're a real ass hole, you know that!?" he shouts as tears stream down his face more intensely, "Why would you do this to me!?"
"I don't want you to die…" Steve says brokenly, "I don't want to kill you…I can't kill you…"
"You…you don't have a choice, Steve, can't you see that…?" Bucky asks him, defeated. "I can't fight the Soldier forever…I don't want him to hurt you anymore…"
"Maybe alone you can't…but together…" Steve offers, clenching his fists. "I promise he won't hurt me…and that I'll help you get rid of him…but not like this…"
Bucky lowers his head and lets a few sobs escape his lips. The tears fall down on the cement beneath them and Steve wants nothing more than to take his friend into his arms and never let him go.
"You know I love you too, you punk?" Bucky says as he raises his head. He's smiling sadly.
All Steve can muster is a confused: "Hun?"
"How the hell am I supposed not to?" He asks with another rancorous laugh, "You're perfect, kind and stupidly forgiving…even now, you're ready to look past all the terrible things I did and still love me…"
Steve feels his heart begin to flutter. He really wasn't expecting things to take this turn.
"Here's to hoping you'll forgive this one too…" He says.
Before Steve can react, Bucky's lips are pressed against his. He almost loses himself instantly in the feeling. As horrible as this situation has been, this kiss is still sweet and exactly how Steve imagined it would be. Bucky's lips are soft and plush even if they're a little dry. He wonders if Bucky finds this as pleasant as he does but before he can think about it any further, Bucky grabs the hand still clutching the knife with an iron grip and forces Steve to plunge the blade deep into his gut.
Their kiss breaks as such. Steve pulls away just as Bucky lets out a pained whimper. Time seems to slow down around them but the gallons of blood that start spilling from the wound remind them just how fast it's actually moving. Without thinking, Steve pulls out the bloodied knife and Bucky whimpers again as the knife falls from his trembling grip. Bucky's hands instinctively go to the wound in his gut, clutching at it as blood seeps between his fingers and into the growing puddle beneath him. He sways but before he can fall over, Steve gathers him in his arms.
Steve has never felt so useless. He's trembling and the hand that's not keeping Bucky pressed to his chest is hovering over the wound pointlessly before he forces himself to add pressure to it in the hopes of stopping the bleeding. The action only reveals himself as pointless when Steve realises he doesn't have a phone to call an ambulance and that the love of his life, the man he spent months searching for relentlessly, is going to die in his arms.
"No, no, no! Bucky—!" Steve cries helplessly. "You can't—not like this!"
"I really…do love you, Steve…" Bucky says weakly as the life slowly leaves his eyes, "Forgive…me…?"
Steve can't form anymore words. His grief is too much and his tears are blinding him. The most he can manage to utter is a series of "No" and "Bucky, please" as he holds him tighter and cradles him to his chest. Steve buries his head in Bucky's chest as he takes his last breath.
And suddenly the beautiful sight of Manhattan at night isn't so beautiful anymore.