WARNING: Major character death. You have been warned.
A/N: I hate myself for writing this. It hurts a lot. I love it though. I wrote this a few nights ago and I've been persuading myself to actually post it. Every time I read it I cry and die a little bit inside. I hope you like it.
The service for Peggy Carter was large, but quiet. It seemed like all of SHIELD had attended. Steve Rogers stood quiet and resigned at the front, closest to the beautiful closed casket. He remained long after the service was over, lost in thought.
Almost everyone had left and Peggy was under six feet for a long time before Steve pulled out of his thoughts and glanced around the cemetery.
An old man was standing nearby, but not at Peggy's grave. He was staring at a headstone and Steve noticed the name: Eva Jones Barnes.
Steve approached the man and said, "Bucky?"
The man sighed deeply and said, "I haven't heard that name in a long time."
There was silence as Steve thought back to the last time he saw his best friend. He relived those moments on the train and watched a younger version of this man fall away.
"I'm so sorry, Buck," he said.
The familiar cocky grin was alien on this man's face. "For what? Shit happened, everyone thought I was dead, you took a nosedive into the Arctic, and here we are." Bucky turned to look closer at Steve. "You didn't age in the ice, did you? But you're still saving the world."
Steve nodded, then looked at the headstone they were standing in front of. "Your wife?"
The grin dropped from Bucky's face and turned into a wistful smile. "Yeah." Bucky slowly and carefully sat on the grass with the help of the headstone. "Her name was Eva. She was smart and beautiful and funny and was the perfect mother to my children."
Steve remained silent, regretting he wasn't there for his friend.
"She was my light in the dark," Bucky said, his hand brushing the name on the tombstone. "After I fell, after I was found, she took care of me. She was always there for me, even when I was being a jerk. She helped me through a lot, Steve."
"I'm sorry, Bucky."
"Don't be. You saved the world. That was more important."
"No it wasn't," Steve said, sitting on the grass beside Bucky. "You're my friend, Buck. I should'a been there for everything, all the important stuff."
"You were," Bucky said. He reached into his jacket and pulled an old, torn photo from his inside pocket. He handed it to Steve. It was a picture from before the war, one of the few times they had extra money. The picture was blurry, but both of the young men in the picture were smiling.
"I can't believe you kept this," Steve said.
"Heh, yeah," Bucky said. "That's the only good picture I had of the two of us, though."
Steve passed the photo back to Bucky, who put it back inside his jacket.
"So you had kids?" Steve asked.
"Yeah, two of 'em," Bucky said fondly. "The first one was a boy, we named him Steve."
It became hard for Steve to breath all of a sudden. Tears pricked his eyes and he tried to blink them away.
"After you, of course," Bucky said. "You've always meant a lot to me. And after the war... It was hard. For a long time."
Steve swallowed past the lump in his throat when Bucky zoned out. "Any others?" he asked.
Bucky blinked away the memories and said, "One other, a girl. Her name was Grace, after Eva's sister."
"And are they still...?" Steve trailed off, not knowing how to ask.
"No," Bucky said, shaking his head. "But my grandchildren and great-grandchildren are."
"What're their names?"
Bucky laughed. "What a way to test my memory, punk."
Steve smiled painfully and said, "I was just curious, jerk."
Bucky's smile became a little forced and he said, "Well, let's see... James, Henry, and Stephanie, and Bertha and Molly. And the great-grandchildren are Mike and Ben, Emma, Mary, and Jeff, Belle and Adam, and Roger, and Eric and Chris. Eric and Chris are twins and Molly's got another one on the way."
"Wow."
"Yeah." Bucky glanced at Steve. "Don't ask for my grandchildren's spouse's names, I always mess those up."
Steve laughed. "Really? What do they say when you mess up their names?"
Bucky shrugged. "They just chalk it up to old age."
The two men sat in companionable silence for a time until Bucky glanced up at the sky.
"I should probably get going," he said. "I'm surprised Stephanie hasn't come looking for me yet."
"Was she at the funeral?" Steve asked.
"Yeah," Bucky said, grasping Eva's headstone. "She and Peggy were pretty close. Do me a favor and help me up, punk."
Steve jumped up and reached down for Bucky's arm, only to falter when he realized Bucky was missing the limb. Instead, he reached around Bucky's middle and helped him stand.
A woman was approaching, a small boy in her arms and a young girl following. "There you are. We were wondering where you had wandered off to this time, Grandpa."
"I don't wander off," Bucky grumbled. "And I was just saying hi to your grandmother."
The woman gave a small sigh. "Okay. I'm sorry. I miss her too." She glanced at Steve. "Who's this?"
Bucky reached back and pulled Steve forward. "This is my old friend Steve Rogers."
"Oh, wow," the woman breathed. She stepped forward, shifting the boy in her arms to shake Steve's hand. "I'm Stephanie. This is Adam." Stephanie dropped Steve's hand to rest hers on the little girl's head. "And this is Belle."
"Hi," Steve said.
Stephanie smiled at him and turned back to Bucky. "We'll be waiting by the van, okay?"
"Yeah, yeah," Bucky said. "I know how to get back."
Stephanie looked doubtful, but turned around and walked back the way she came with the two children.
"Your grandchildren are older than me and have families of their own."
Bucky looked alarmed and shook his head. "You all look young to me, Steve. Besides, those kids are always gonna be little. I'm not going to be around much longer to see them big."
Steve frowned and rubbed his head. "It shouldn't be like this. I should be old with you. I should've known your wife and me and Peggy... Our kids would've grown up together." Tears sprung up in Steve's eyes again, but he couldn't stop them from falling.
Bucky gently put his hand on the back of Steve's neck and squeezed. "Yeah, they would've. But this world isn't that nice. It keeps handing you the rotten apples and won't give you the good ones. It's no use crying over what could've been."
Steve sniffled and wiped the last few tears away, nodding. "Yeah. You're right." He looked at Bucky and stared into his familiar bright eyes. "I'm happy I saw you, Bucky. And I'm glad you had a life after the war."
Bucky nodded. "Me, too." He glanced to the road where his granddaughter was waiting for him. "I have to go. The kids'll really start worrying soon if I don't." Bucky began walking away, his hand in his pocket.
"Bye, Bucky," Steve said.
Bucky stopped and turned around. "Now wait a damn minute here, Rogers. This isn't the end. I'll see ya around."
Steve chuckled. "Yeah. See ya, Buck."
Bucky nodded and finally left the cemetery.
Steve watched him go and turned back to Eva's headstone when he disappeared. "I'm sorry we never got to meet. But I can tell he loved you. Thank you for taking care of him. Things could've been so different..." Steve lost himself in his thoughts for a moment before he turned away and left for Stark Tower.
Three days later, Steve got a call that Bucky had passed away in his sleep the night before. He shut himself away from the rest of the tower until the funeral. He and his friends stood side by side during the entirety of the service. No one commented about the tears that freely flowed down Steve's face.
After the service, Steve was approached by Stephanie.
"I'm so sorry," she said grasping his hand.
Steve simply nodded, not trusting his voice to talk.
Stephanie wiped tears from her own face, which were replaced by fresh ones. "Have you read his stone yet?"
Steve shook his head and Stephanie led him away from the others to where Bucky was now buried, right next to Eva.
James
"Bucky"
Barnes
1917-2016
I'm with you 'till the end of the line.
Steve smiled sadly and sighed. "Thank you, Stephanie."
Stephanie gave him a watery smile. "It's not a problem, Captain." She left him be and rejoined her family.
For the second time that week, Steve spent the day in the cemetery, mourning the loss of his last remaining friends from a life he could never have.
A/N: I have an idea to write Eva and Bucky's story. I'm planning it out, and I've started writing some, but it won't be published for a while. Thoughts?