A/N: 616 Buckynat ; spoilers for Black Widow #18
Going away. That sounds nice.
Bucky never expected for her to go for it, so when she declines he's anything but surprised. No, he keeps going, sitting there quietly, wishing for things to be different. He's accepted that they won't be. That this is his fate, their fate.
It's worth than death, an idea he still stands behind. He has every single memory. From Russia to right before everything fell apart at the seams. Every happy memory. Ever not so happy one. Even when maybe they didn't get along swimmingly they are memories that he holds close.
Because she can't. She has nothing to speak of, calling him Barnes, now Bucky. Somehow, that's worse. Closer to James, but so far away. Everything is so far away.
She's better off this way, out of the trouble only he could bring. She brings trouble of her own. The girl he fell in love with is right there, right fucking there. Not that it's the same. No, it'll never be the same. He could be with her, right there, day and night. She'll never remember who he is.
God, he wished she said yes, but that's not the woman he knows, the woman he loves. Loved. He'll never really stop loving her. Doesn't have it in him. Barely has it in him to sit there and pretend that everything is fine, that she's just someone he knows because of the job, the mission.
He'd drop anything to come for her. No matter when she needed him. Just like now. Didn't even need to be thanked, only far too willing to be there for her. Always. Now and always.
But then she calls him Bucky and his face falls just enough, staring out ahead of him, desperately thankful she can't see his face. It's his name, sure, to a lot of people. Not to her. Never to her. It's not right. It'll never be right. It is what is it, but hell if he'll ever be able to hear it without his face turning into something akin to pure pain.
He longs for the day she calls him James, and actually understands the weight of the name.