CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO – Stay What You Are

Footsteps approaching from behind drew my gaze away from the calm lake waters to Bucky. He appeared mostly unchanged in the month separating us. Dressed in plain dark clothes, gloves hid his hands, and his long hair cut short, almost styled as it had been during the war.

A painful squeeze in my chest stole a breath in my throat, stiffening my entire body as rose from the bench, his soulful eyes focused on me.

"Hey," he smiled softly.

"You cut your hair; it suits you." My compliment drew a faint blush to his cheeks.

"Needed a change," he shrugged. "Feels right like this, like me."

"What are you doing here?"

"I was just in the neighborhood," he couldn't control his growing smile as he walked over, his playful remark making me chuckle. "I, ah, I wanted to see if you got offered a clean slate by the government."

"I did." I nodded, "A full pardon for all my past indiscretions, and re-instatement of my citizenship, as long as I undergo court mandated psych-evaluations and therapy. I had my first session yesterday."

"You took it?" He frowned as I sat back down.

"Don't act as if you didn't agree to it as well, I asked doctor Raynor yesterday, she's expecting to see you tomorrow."

He sighed, dropping on the bench beside me. "Yeah, looking forward to it."

"It's not so bad, they could've just thrown us in a cell at the Raft." I glanced at him as he did me. "I had to take the deal, not just for my family but because Tony's given me place on board of the Maria Stark Foundation. I couldn't refuse him, even in death." I fought the tremble in my hands by smoothing out the ends of my jacket, staring back at the lake.

"You'll do some real good, make a difference like you always wanted." A sadness presented in his eyes as I looked up at him.

"So, as usual I get everything but you?"

"I don't wanna mess things up for you."

"Aren't you tired of playing a martyr?" I signed angrily, rising from the bench, and keeping my back faced to him, fearing if I stared at him too long, I'd fall to my knees before him. "Or is your ego still struggling to accept that maybe because I thought you dead, I considered moving on?"

"Maybe," he agreed, his tone hollow and absent of any emotion. I fought a losing battle, facing him. "It gave me a reason to leave. Coming back, it was like a switch flicked on, Gin. I, ah …I've had nightmares again. Flashbacks of things I did, places, faces …" he trailed off not needing to explain the wreckage the Winter Soldier left through history. "I'm trying to make amends but it ain't easy."

"It's not meant to be easy. We've both done things we're not proud of but running away doesn't solve anything." I went back to sit beside him. "I can only imagine reappearing out of thin air and having lost five years of your life would be difficult, but it wasn't a garden party being left behind."

My lashes fluttered, dispelling tears threatening to break my fragile control.

"I lost half of my family in the space of a few minutes. Michael … he turned to ash in my arms barely a minute after I saw the same thing happen to you," I glanced at my hands twisting in my lap, pinching at my flesh until it turned white then red. "I wasn't … pleasant to be around after that. I said things and—"

"Steve told me what happened." Bucky interrupted drawing a small, surprised gasp from me.

"Told you everything?" I asked cautiously.

He curtly nodded. "Trying to break his nose, the drinking … everything."

"Well besides his stubbornness, Sara's the only reason I'm alive right now. If I'd lost her as well … I would've put a bullet in my head—"

"Don't say shit like that!" The sleeve of Bucky's jacket was cold and hard as his vibranium arm curling around my shoulders, tugging me against his side. "Okay? Don't even think like that!" His free hand rose to wipe away tears wetting my cheeks, my despair reflecting in his tormented features. "Whatever it takes, I'll fix this, okay? I promise I'll make things right with us."

"Not another promise," I groaned quietly, my vision of him blurring slightly. "You're terrible at keeping promises."

He chuckled, "I know, but this time I mean it, l'amour de ma vie." He murmured, his forehead lightly dropping against mine as I turned into him, my hands resting against his chest.

"That does sound better in French." We both smiled.

"As good as Mrs. Barnes?"

"Nothing sounds better than that," I admitted, fingers tangling around the chain of his dog tags. "I've missed you."

"Me too, sweetheart."

Our love wasn't perfect. We fought for every moment we'd ever had together but the handsome Brooklyn soldier who'd been a simple distraction from the reality of war, warmed the coldness in my heart. His love chased away the self-doubt and encouraged a warrior to emerge. We'd given each other courage and a love determined to last the ages.

Our souls were forever entwined, and even if we were worlds apart, we'd always find our way back to each other.

A/N: The time has come my friends for this story to come to a close. It has been a big part of my life, but now I must focus on writing something that is purely my own.

I can't thank you enough for reading this, whether it was from the very badly written first draft to this newer version. I'm grateful for whenever you came along and stayed to the very end.