A. N.: I know, I know, not another one. I promise I'll finish "Unbreakable" soon, but I want to re-watch some stuff for context/details to include, and I was going crazy for some WinterWidow to write in between. Combine that with all the Soulmate AU stories I've been stumbling onto in my recent reading, and you get this little plot bunny...
Bucky Barnes had never been a shy kid. But some things were private, even for him. And there was one part of himself he never let anyone see: His left wrist.
"Come on," other kids would say, "We all have them."
But Bucky didn't think that gave them the right to see the black letters scrawled across his skin. He knew it didn't apply to any of them, after all. It couldn't. Besides, they'd only tease him if they saw the vague doom spelled out for his future love life.
Some people got helpful hints like the name of a favorite flower or a defining characteristic or a preferred type of chocolate. He just got one word: Widow.
He would be old and grey before he ever met the person he was supposed to live for. Of course, plenty of people were born without any soulmate at all. He tried to pretend he was one of them, mostly, act like there was no tragic romantic destiny hanging over his head. It worked, usually. After all, he had his hands full with Steve. Who needed a soulmate when you had a best friend to keep out of trouble?
Of course, that best friend was the one exception to his rule. Steve knew everything about him. And, he knew it wasn't really the waiting that bothered him. He'd have been willing to wait until hell froze over if not for that one, damning word.
It happened when he was seventeen and had no business being anywhere near alcohol. But, he had all the responsibilities of an adult, and he wanted to indulge like one, just once. So, he got drunk out of his mind for the first time in his life and spilled his guts to Steve, whose look of mild disapproval quickly morphed into one of stricken sympathy.
"It doesn't bother me, you know? It doesn't, I can wait. I got too much on my plate for love now, anyways. But, damn it, Steve, if I'm supposed to wait my whole friggin' life for this dame, couldn't she at least want me? Second choice, I feel like a friggin' consolation prize – sorry, the guy you actually wanted kicked the bucket, so here you go, a pity prize from the universe!"
Bucky laughed, a little off-kilter, and Steve slung his arm around his friend.
"Hey, don't think about it that way. Whoever this first guy's gonna be, he's not her soulmate, right? You are. You may not be the first choice, but you're gonna be the best one. I'm sure whoever she is is gonna see that."
"Yeah," Bucky said, a glimmer of clarity worming its way back into his eyes. "I sure hope you're right, pal."
Then the war started, and Bucky started to think that he might not have to wait so long to find his soulmate, after all. He tried not to think too hard about why that thought made him shiver, like walking over his own grave.