Harper: Hello, my love!
James: Hey, darlin. What's got you so cheery?
Harper: I got some really good news today. Dinner to discuss?
James: Absolutely. I'm heading to the market for some plums. Do you need anything?
Harper: You're a peach, so I'm good. ;)
James: Alright, I'll see you in a little bit. I'm excited to hear this good news.
Harper: I'm excited to tell you! I love you!
James: I love you, too, doll.
Bucky found himself happily beneath the tent of his favorite fruit stand. He gave a small smile to the mother and her two daughters beside him before turning his eyes to the crate of plums that had been the goal of this afternoon trip to the market.
Looking up and catching the eye of the woman who ran the stand, he asked, "How much?"
She supplied her answer, always a good price, and he repeated it, turning the figure over in his head and deciding how many of the supposedly memory-enhancing fruits he wanted. He gave his answer, and handed her the correct sum of money while she began bagging up the fruits. With his purchase in hand, he began toying with the idea of stopping by the florist to meet whatever Harper's good news was with an admittedly cliché bouquet of summery blooms.
As he waited to cross the busy street, the distinct feeling of being watched came over him. Trusting his years of experience, blue eyes began to roam. Quickly, he noted the man running the newsstand across the road staring at him. Really staring. The former assassin looked away, trying to shake the disturbing feeling raising the hairs on the back of his neck, but he couldn't ignore his instincts. Shifting his gaze back to the newsstand, he locked eyes with the man and knew something was wrong. Taking the opportunity to cross the street, he strode toward the stand, adrenaline rising when the man took flight. He grabbed up the newspaper the man had been reading, and his entire body froze. It felt like his lungs and heart had simply ceased working. The front page was a photo and headline depicting him – the Winter Soldier – as a bomber who had attacked the Sokovia Accords in Vienna.
With the newsstand vendor undoubtedly alerting the police as he stood there, Bucky quickly came to the terrible conclusion that he had to run.
"Hey! You never call," Harper greeted cheerfully.
"Are you home?"
"Yeah, just got here. Is everything okay?" she replied, catching on immediately to the grave seriousness in his tone.
"I'll be there in three. Have you seen the news?"
"No, should I have?"
"You can if you want, but please – god, please, Harper – let me explain."
"James, you're scaring me," the young woman answered, and he could hear the worried waver in her voice.
"Two minutes."
He hung up and continued his hurried slinking through back allies. Thankfully unseen, he emerged by Harper's apartment. He didn't want any record of him at the front door, so he carefully removed the glass pane from a window in the back of the building. He hauled himself inside silently before rushing up to the third floor. Perhaps sooner than he was mentally prepared to, he arrived at Harper's apartment. Testing the doorknob, he found it unlocked and moved swiftly inside.
Harper was sitting on the couch, the news story abouot the Winter Soldier and a blurry photo of his face were on the TV, but she wasn't looking at it. She appeared remarkably calm, simply sitting and waiting for him. He rushed to her side, kneeling before her awash in guilt and fear.
"Harper, I don't have much time," he began.
"I figured," she answered with a nod.
"I didn't do it."
"Obviously, unless you could teleport from my apartment last night to Vienna, do all that, and then teleport back here. Don't waste time if this is all I have left with you."
He saw the tears beginning to fill her eyes, as well as her determination to not let them fall. He felt a sob rising in his own chest, but shoved it down. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you about who I am. I thought…"
"James," Harper said gently, raising a hand to cup his cheek. "You told me already what you think of yourself. Undeserving. A monster. And I've seen it. Ashamed. Afraid. Repentant. All this does is flesh out the bigger picture. It doesn't change the fact that I know you. That I love you."
"I didn't want this to happen to us. To you. I'm so, so sorry, doll," Bucky continued, choking on his words as the tears came, unbidden. "I'm so grateful for the time you gave me. You saved me, and I'll never be able to show you how thankful I am or how much I love you."
Her other palm moved to match its twin and she muttered, "I understand. You did the same for me."
"I planned for this, even though I hoped I wouldn't ever have to go through with it," he continued, clearing his throat and shoving back his emotions once again. Harper wiped the moisture from his cheeks as he dug around in his pocket. Pulling out an envelope and a prepaid phone, he handed them to her. "I explained everything in the letter. The phone is untraceable. If it's safe, I will call it to let you know I made it out. I've been careful to keep a low profile around you, and I don't think anyone will link you to me. If for any reason they do and the police show up, tell them the truth. You had no idea who I was. I lied to you, deceived you all this time. Okay?"
"Yes. Though I disagree with your word choice."
"Harper," he scolded sharply.
"I get it, James."
"I have to go. I've already been here too long. I have to grab my go bag and get out of here." He
paused before grimacing. "I can't tell you where I'm headed."
"I know. That's why I didn't ask." They rose as a unit to their feet. Harper looked up at him and grabbed both of his hands. "James, please be careful."
He nodded his agreement and she stood on her toes, slamming her lips against his. The kiss was fierce, desperate, and wet with the tears the brunette could no longer hold back. Bucky poured his heart into the kiss, each touch of their tongues, each brush of their lips speaking of his longing for the life they could have lived together. It had been so close – so goddamn close – and it had all been taken away. Snuffed out like all of the lives the Winter Soldier had taken. Maybe this was his penance.
Using all of his self-control and thinking of her safety, Bucky forced himself to pull away. Harper's grip on his shoulders was tight, but he gently loosened her hands from him. Bright brown eyes gazing up into blue, she declared, "'In your world I have another name… You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there.' You're a good man, James Barnes, and I am irrevocably in love with you."
"I love you, Harper. I am so sorry."
He placed a final kiss to her forehead before he turned, forcing himself to leave the apartment. He needed to get moving to protect her and to protect himself.
Being restrained in a cage gave Bucky plenty of time to reflect, though he kept his facial expression carefully guarded. He supposed he may have gotten away if he hadn't stopped to say goodbye to Harper. His only regret was that she would feel unspeakably guilty, since she would doubtless draw the same conclusion. But for him, even knowing the result, he would do it again. He couldn't even begin to imagine doing her the disservice of not hearing the truth from him, of not having the bit of closure they were able to get in their brief goodbye.
"I'm not here to judge you," said the bespectacled man before him. "I just want to ask you a few questions. Do you know where you are, James?"
God, it fucking turned his stomach to hear someone other than Harper calling him by his first name. James was hers, and only hers.
"I can't help you if you don't talk to me, James."
"My name is Bucky," he corrected firmly.
The words, the fucking words. What had he done this time? Who had he hurt? How much more blood was he drowning in?
"Which Bucky am I talking to?"
The brunet heaved a sigh. "Your mom's name was Sarah. You used to where newspapers in your shoes."
He chuckled, relieved for the fond memory that was still intact.
Bucky couldn't help but grin at his longtime friend wrapped in the embrace of a beautiful blonde woman. Steve was long overdue for happiness, for women to see how absolutely good he was. Lips separating, the two shared a private joke before glancing at their small audience in their tiny getaway car. Bucky nodded his approval, hoping Steve would understand just how happy he was for his friend.
An arduous fight behind them, Bucky sat silently behind Steve in their stolen jet en route to Siberia. Staring at his hands, the former assassin questioned, "What's going to happen to your friends?"
Steve's answer didn't assuage his guilt. "Whatever it is… I'll deal with it."
More lives destroyed because of him. "I don't know if I'm worth all this, Steve."
"What you did all those years…" the blond replied slowly, looking back at him, "… It wasn't you. You didn't have a choice."
Bucky nodded. "I know." Just like so many conversations he'd had with Harper. With a sardonic smile, he added, "But I did it."
A heavy silence filled the space between the two men, once closer than brothers. Were they still brothers?
Finally, Steve asked, "Were you in Bucharest this whole time?"
"I stayed in D.C. long enough to get into the Smithsonian. I went through your exhibit. Then I passed through Europe, only spending a little time here and there until I got to Bucharest. I didn't plan on staying as long as I did."
"What changed?"
Bucky's lips turned upward in the most genuine smile Steve had seen on him since the 40s. "I met a woman more amazing than I could've ever dreamed up, Stevie."
The blond made a complete turnaround at that, failing to conceal his surprise. "What?"
"A woman," he confirmed. "That's why I stayed."
"I… you… you stayed for a woman? You could never handle more than a handful of dates with the same dame."
"Harper isn't any ordinary dame," Bucky responded, smile growing in spite of himself. "She's damn strong and stubborn, and so friggin' smart, Steve. Her whole life revolves around helping other people, even though it's cost her a lot. She's so good to me, so good for me. She's kept my world bright."
Steve mulled this confession over before letting out a small, breathy laugh. "She pretty?"
"Beautiful."
With a frown of realization, the blond asked, "Does she know who you are?"
The former assassin heaved another sigh. "She does now."
"I'm sorry, Buck."
"She said she still loves me," he muttered, nearly a whisper. He knew Steve had heard him and was unashamed to add, "I love her, too."
"C'mon, Buck, we gotta get you some help," Steve groaned, helping Bucky mount the ramp to their jet.
"I think I can help you with that," a voice called from behind them. The men out of time turned to see the new Wakandan King, T'Challa, mask in hand. "We have the means to heal and conceal you both. I owe you much for the blindness of my rage."
"Thank you," Steve nodded. "We could use that."
"More than that, our top scientist should be able to remove the Winter Soldier programming. It will take time," the Black Panther cautioned.
"Steve," Bucky spoke up, already feeling his friend's excitement and gratitude. "I need to do something first."
Bucky caught Harper's gasp in his palm, nudging her door shut behind her with his foot. He shushed her gently, and she nodded, eyes wide and staring at him in disbelief. Slowly, he lowered his hand from her mouth.
"James, you stupid shit! Why the fuck would you have come here and wasted time you knew you didn't have?! I'm not worth getting caught! And why are you here now? How?!"
"Hey, hey, hey, doll," he replied quickly, raising his hand in defense. "I couldn't just leave you. And it's okay. I'm passing through and then going with some friends. They think they can take the Winter Soldier outta my head."
Her cinnamon brown eyes were roaming his figure carefully while he explained. He knew she had caught onto the empty sleeve of his jacket. Gingerly, she reached up and touched his shoulder, running her fingers downward to feel what was left of his metal limb. The gentle digits moved to his face, skimming the cuts and bruises there.
"I told you to stay safe," she scolded weakly. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," he assured. "This will all be healed by morning."
"I'm glad. I was really scared for you, James," she confessed, eyes shimmering with tears. The brunette buried her face in his chest, and he wrapped his remaining flesh arm around her firmly.
"Are you okay? Did anyone come to you about anything?"
"No," she shook her head. "I'm completely fine. But I missed you."
"I missed you, too, doll." With a hard swallow, he continued, "But I have to go away for a while."
"How long?" she muttered into his chest.
"As long as it takes to make me safe around people, around you. This entire thing… I'm dangerous with the Winter Soldier's code living in my head."
"Code?"
"Didn't you read the letter?"
"I've spent most of the last few days drunk," she muttered into his chest.
"Harper," he muttered, placing a kiss to the top of her head. "The clusters…"
"Oh, cut that shit. I handled myself exceptionally well the last time we spoke, all things considered. I think I was allowed to fall apart a bit after all of that."
Steve chuckled and Bucky felt Harper jump, clearly having been entirely unaware that they weren't alone. The brunette pulled away slightly, peering around him to see the star spangled man seated on her couch. Steve stood with a grin and declared, "You weren't kidding, Buck."
The former soldier grinned at his best friend and adjusted his arm to tuck Harper into his side. "Harper, this is Steve. Steve, meet Harper."
"You were talking about me?" Harper asked, peering up at him with a raised brow and a flush to her cheeks.
"He is my best friend, darlin'," Bucky grinned.
She waved him off with a chuckle and extended her hand toward Steve. "It's great to finally meet you. I've heard good things. I mean, historically speaking, but also from James."
"Oh, really?" asked the blond with a smirk. "Like what, James?"
"If I had another arm, I'd clock ya one, Rogers," Bucky threatened without any seriousness.
Harper tilted her head up at him and asked, "Should I not call you that anymore?"
"I've always hated my name when anyone else has used it," he admitted. With another grin, he continued, "But I do love it coming from you."
"Buck, I hate to do this, but we gotta get moving."
"I know," sighed the brunet. "Give us a minute?"
Steve nodded and gave Harper a small smile before exiting to the roof through the window that had been their ingress.
"Did he just…?" Harper shook her head, shaking the question off. Looking at him with seriousness in her eyes, she said, "You got to do most of the talking last time. I need to say my piece."
Bucky nodded. "You have the floor."
"Despite my… straying from sobriety these last few days, I've done a lot of thinking. I understand why you kept your identity a secret. I don't hold that against you at all. I knew from our first coffee date that you were lost and in pain, and I can see now that you were suffering more than I could've imagined. To have asked you to trust me with any of that back then would have been inane. But I assume since you came back that you want to move forward. If so, I need a guarantee that you will be honest with me. No matter what."
"I want a future with you more than anything. I've thought so many times about what that would look like, and all of those visions are beautiful. But I don't want to make you wait for me, Harper," Bucky muttered, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. "I have no idea how long this is going to take, and you deserve-"
"Please, please, stop with 'deserving,'" Harper pleaded. "I don't give a fuck about that. For once in my damn life, when I decided to tell you about my feelings and then when we agreed to be together, I was doing what I wanted. Not what I needed to do, not what I necessarily should have done, but what I wanted. And I've been so happy. So I don't care if you feel like I deserve someone else, or if we deserve each other, or whatever. I care about what we want, and I want a future together. I want to swap books, I want to fall asleep watching Netflix, I want to buy plums at the market, to walk by the river. I want to talk you down from your nightmares, and I want to cry to you during my clusters. I want to go to sleep every night after you've made sure Aslan and I have enough space in bed, and then I want to wake up every morning and see that you're smiling, because for some reason you love me as much as I love you. You make me happy, James. I can't say that about any other man or about most people who have been part of my life. So I am prepared to wait. For me, there's nobody else. It's not a remote possibility that what we have could be replicated with someone else. You or no one."
Silence passed between them for a long moment. Finally, the corner of Bucky's mouth twitched upward. "Well… how can I argue with that?"
A/N: There we have the final chapter of Deserving. Epilogue to come shortly. If this seems suddenly or jarring or rushed, it's because the end of Bucky's life in Bucharest and the events of Civil War felt that way, so it's reflected here in how he perceived that whirlwind of events. Thank you so much to everyone who stuck this out. I appreciate all of the reviews, follows, favorites, and views, and am especially thankful to folks who provided consistent feedback. It's been a pleasure to hear from you all and to chat a bit in PMs. See you again in the epilogue!