author's note: more angst, so many emotions! this is the plan I've had for this story for SO LONG. I am so so glad to finally get to write it, as painful and sad as it was. it has to hurt before it can get better. pls trust me.
ilysm, thank you for reading! please let me know what you think!
Gianna
The early morning air in New York was crisp, announcing the slow arrival of spring. Gianna, wrapped in an embarrassingly expensive coat, sat alone at the patio of a small coffee shop near her apartment. The sun was barely making its way over the buildings, casting long shadows on the empty streets. It was a place she and Bucky had never visited, a quiet spot she had discovered on her own. As much as she longed for the comfort of old familiar shops, she couldn't help but feel thankful to have found places untouched by painful memories.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as Gianna sipped her cappuccino, staring into the swirls of foam. The city, usually bustling with life, felt calm and distant at this hour.
As she lost herself in thoughts, she didn't notice two teenage girls approaching nervously. They wore wide smiles that faltered a bit when Gianna lifted her eyes to them. The apprehension in their eyes betrayed a mix of excitement and hesitation.
"Excuse me, Gianna Cruz?" one of them stammered.
A gentle smile played on Gianna's lips as she nodded, "Guilty."
The girls exchanged glances, building the courage to make their request. "Could we take a photo with you?" one finally blurted out.
"Of course," Gianna replied, her smile widening. She stood up, setting her cup down, and posed for a selfie that would undoubtedly end up on social media. Fortunately, she positioned herself against a relatively nondescript wall, hoping her new favorite location wouldn't be broadcast to the world.
The girls buzzed with energy as they bumped into each other while leaving. "Oh," One of them turned back to Gianna. "I'm sorry about Bucky. We were rooting for you guys."
Gianna gave a polite smile, ignoring the twist in her gut. "Thank you."
As the girls thanked her again and walked away, their nervous energy palpable, Gianna returned to her seat. She checked her phone, a habit born out of the loneliness that had crept back into her life.
A text to Tom, her manager, sat unsent. She'd typed and deleted it over and over again in the past few weeks as she tried to establish a new normal. This time, she pressed send instead of delete.
I'm ready to perform again.
Bucky
The training room in the Avengers Compound echoed with the thuds of fists striking pads, boots scraping against the mat, and the grunts of exertion. Bucky, clad in his training gear, led a group of SHIELD agents through an intense combat training session. His movements were swift, precise, and laced with a barely-controlled aggression that seemed to cut through the air.
Something was off. It had been for weeks.
Steve and Natasha stood on the sidelines, watching their friend with furrowed brows. Bucky's formerly stoic composure was replaced by an intensity that bordered on ferocity. Each correction he made was sharper, each word a biting rebuke. The harshness of his training was a mirror of the turmoil within him. They'd hoped that it would improve with the more time that passed since Gianna's departure, but it had only gotten worse.
An agent faltered in executing a particular maneuver, and Bucky's reaction was enough to silence the whole room.
"No, no, no!" he barked, his voice cutting through the room. "You're leaving yourself wide open. What if your life depended on this? You'd be dead!"
Steve exchanged a concerned glance with Natasha. This wasn't the Bucky they knew. He was always sharp, intense, but this was different — a raw anger fueled by something deeper.
Natasha whispered, "Steve, we can't let him continue like this. He's pushing them too hard. He's hurting, and it's bleeding into everything he does."
Steve nodded solemnly. "I'll talk to him."
As the training session ended and the agents filed out, looking more dejected than usual, Steve approached Bucky. The echoes of combat had faded, leaving a tense silence in their wake.
"Bucky, can we talk?" Steve's voice was calm, a stark contrast to his friend's demeanor.
Bucky glanced at Steve as he began to wrap his hands for sparring. "Not really in the mood to talk right now."
Steve persisted, his concern unwavering. "You're not okay, Buck. We've all noticed. You're snapping at everyone. Let me help."
Bucky's jaw clenched, and for a moment, the ghost of the Winter Soldier seemed to flash behind his eyes. "I said not now."
Steve frowned as he watched Bucky finish wrapping his hands and begin to strike the punching bag. Picking his battles, he turned and slowly left the room.
Gianna
The green room buzzed with activity as Gianna prepared for her appearance on The Tonight Show. Kate, her longtime makeup artist, applied the finishing touches like they were back in the old days of touring. The scent of hairspray and the hum of anticipation filled the room.
As Kate delicately worked on Gianna's makeup, the singer's mind drifted to a time when this routine was a familiar prelude to the bright lights and applause of a concert stage. She remembered another green room, far away from the studio here at 30 Rockefeller Plaza, where Bucky would wait with her, sharing a quiet moment before the chaos began.
The memories played in her mind like an old film reel. Bucky's calm presence, the shared candy, the laughs and the way his hands felt helping her in and out of her sequin bodysuits. There was a warmth in those memories that contrasted sharply with the chill of the present.
"Gianna, you're up in five," a stage manager peeked in, bringing her back to the present.
She took a deep breath, suppressing the twinge of nostalgia. "Thanks," she said, steeling herself to put her public persona back on. After a few final touch ups, she slid into her heels and was ready to go face the world for the first time since her press conference all those months ago.
The stage manager ushered her through the backstage area of the iconic Tonight Show set. The familiar sight stirred a mix of nerves and anticipation. The last time she was on a stage like this, Bucky stood in the wings. Now she was alone. She shook her head to clear it of the one thing she couldn't afford to think about and plastered a fake, but dazzling smile on her face just as she stepped into the stage lights.
The interview with Jimmy Fallon began with casual banter, what she loved his show for in the first place. He asked all the pre-approved questions about her outfit, her new label, rumors that she was making a cameo in an upcoming film. Ever the charismatic host, he teased about the mysteries of her time away and what happened at the famed Avengers' Compound. Practiced in the art of deflecting, she steered clear of specifics, smiling and evading with the skill of a seasoned celebrity.
"So, Gianna, what's next for you?" Jimmy asked, sipping his coffee.
Gianna grinned, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Well, Jimmy, let's just say, the stage missed me as much as I missed it. Stay tuned, because the tour might be making a comeback very soon."
The audience erupted into applause, only calming down when prompted by the monitors off camera.
"And what about the time off? Any inspiration for new music?" Jimmy prodded.
Gianna's expression remained composed. "It's been a journey, and I'm excited about what's to come. As for new music, I guess you'll just have to wait and see."
Jimmy nodded, accepting the enigmatic response. "Well, Gianna, we can't wait for your performance later. Stick around, folks. We'll be right back after this break!"
The stage lights dimmed as the show cut to commercial, leaving Gianna with a moment of respite before the live performance. She stood as foreign hands removed her wired microphone and gave her a handheld. For a moment, she felt like she traveled straight back into the past. The weight of the microphone in her hand, the heat of the stage lights. She swore if she looked to her right, she'd see Bucky's grinning face shielded from the crowd by the thick black curtain.
Bucky
The spacious living room of the Avengers Compound was bathed in the flickering glow of the television. Sam sprawled, Wanda perched on the armrest, Peter lounging on the floor with a bag of snacks, and Natasha in her customary spot in the corner of the massive sectional. The atmosphere, usually vibrant with banter and camaraderie, felt subdued.
As the team waited for Bucky and Steve to return from their mission, the silence of the room was disrupted by the familiar sound of studio applause as the commercial break ended. The Tonight Show played on the large screen, Jimmy Fallon engaging the audience with his infectious energy as he introduced the first guest, none other than Gianna Cruz.
The atmosphere shifted slightly as Gianna's smiling face appeared on the screen. An involuntary hush swept through the room, replacing the calm with a more somber air as they watched her walk across the set to take her seat by Jimmy. Wanda broke the silence.
"I miss her," she said, her eyes fixed on the television.
The sentiment hung in the room, acknowledged by shared glances but unsaid for a while.
Natasha added, "It's been quieter since she left."
"Yeah, things aren't the same without her." Peter toyed with the hem of the blanket on his lap
Wanda sighed, "She looks happy, though."
Natasha shared a small smile. "She deserves to be."
The team had purposefully avoided discussing Gianna in Bucky's presence, out of respect for his feelings. Yet, the absence of her laughter and vivacity had left a void that echoed through the Compound. Wanda had tried to keep the team dinners alive, but without Gianna to help cook, it was a tall task. Not to mention that Bucky preferred solitude these days anyway.
As the interview progressed, they admired Gianna's poise and the way she navigated the questions. Her makeup was flawless, her smile bright and cheeks rosy, but her eyes were smokier than usual. The dark liner was different, bringing a new intensity to her face. Hearing her voice in the common room felt familiar and foreign now that several weeks had passed and changed so much. With the chaos of the night she left, no one had really gotten to say goodbye to Gianna. Nat, being the one who flew her back to New York, came the closest. All they really exchanged was a sad hug and courtesy of Nat allowing her to cry in silence the whole flight back to the city. Wanda took it the hardest, second only to Bucky. She'd grown accustomed to having her friend around, and now her absence left a glaring hole.
In a fleeting moment of vulnerability, Wanda whispered, "I really hope she's doing well."
Gianna
In the studio, the set was simply a microphone stand and the musicians cloaked in shadow behind her, a stark contrast to Gianna's usual vibrant and glittering performances. Tonight, she stood resplendent in a sleek black dress, a departure from her signature pastels and sequins. She'd told her stylist she wanted a change. She wouldn't admit it, but the dark colors were her way of mourning the love she lost and the life she dreamt of with it.
"I know everyone's waiting for new music, but tonight I thought I'd pay tribute to one of my favorite bands, Fleetwood Mac. This song has always been beautiful, but it's been especially resonating with me lately." She gave a small smile. "I hope you enjoy."
As the haunting chords of Fleetwood Mac's "Silver Springs" began, Gianna closed her eyes and felt the warmth of the stage lights enveloping her. She wrapped her hands around the microphone and began to sing.
Bucky
Heavy footsteps sounded in the kitchen and grew louder toward the living room. Steve and Bucky rounded the corner, still fully dressed in their uniforms. Steve's helmet sat on his head, the chinstrap unbuttoned. Bucky's hair was tousled, his eyebrow cut. Dirt and exhaustion covered both of their faces after being gone for two days. Steve paused, Bucky nearly running into him. His blue eyes locked onto the screen and the woman standing there.
The room's energy shifted, an unspoken tension taking hold. Natasha moved to change the channel, but Bucky's restrained voice stopped her.
"Don't."
Gianna
And can you tell me was it worth it?
Baby, I don't want to know
Her voice was guttural, haunting. She sang with her eyes closed, brows knit together.
Steve shot Bucky a worried look, his own concern mirroring that of the rest of the team. Bucky didn't move, every muscle tense.
Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me
I know I could have loved you
But you would not let me
Gianna's voice soared, a raw and soulful rendition of the song. The song, clearly chosen with purpose, echoed throughout the common room. The team carefully observed Bucky's reaction, realizing that the song's poignant lyrics struck a chord deep within him. He stayed rooted in place, but his jaw was clenched, eyes wide.
I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you
Give me just a chance
She clutched the microphone, barely moving as her voice and soul took over. All the words she wanted to say to Bucky, all the emotions she wanted to let overflow. She wanted to scream at him, throw things at him, fall at his feet and weep. She hated him for being the reason she wasn't able to love him.
She wouldn't, couldn't, reach out to him. Her pride made her block his phone number as soon as she landed in New York. She had pages and pages of notes and half-written songs, all things she wanted to say to him. None of them felt ready to share with the world. This song captured all of her heartache, her anger. She hoped somehow, wherever he was, he was watching. She hoped the words hit him like a knife in the chest like his words that night had hit her. She hoped this song, her face, would haunt him like that last night still haunted her.
Opening her eyes, she let her voice turn raw and angry as she launched into the next line.
You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you
Bucky
As Gianna poured her heart into the song, the realization hit Bucky like a tidal wave. The haunting melody intertwined with his thoughts, and for a moment, the past seemed to converge with the present. He heard her voice now, but saw her then. City after city, night after night. Singing her heart out, seeking him out backstage. Running into his arms after a show. Smiling, chest heaving, glistening in sweat…she'd made him fall back in love with being alive. She was light, color, music. She was a sunny day, a rainbow. She was everything good about the world. Until…him.
Bucky's inner turmoil unfolded on his face, visible to the team.
The woman on the screen before him was a shell of the one he knew. She wasn't smiling as she sang. She didn't dance or spin onstage. Her outfit was as devoid of color as his life felt. Even through the screen, he could see the anguish on her face, in the way her brows knit together.
Her kohl-lined eyes flew open as her voice reached a new intensity, a near growl, and she seemed to stare directly at him.
You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you
As the final notes lingered in the air, the team watched in silence. The performance had laid bare all of her emotions, and Bucky stared at the screen with a mix of pain and recognition. Steve, torn between the desire to comfort his friend and the need to let him process, stood quietly by his side. The applause of the show, the commercials that resumed after she took a bow, all of it sounded muffled to Bucky as he stood frozen in place.
His eyes remained fixed on the screen for what felt like an eternity. The room held its breath, the team's collective gaze shifting between the screen and Bucky's unreadable expression.
In that charged silence, it became evident that the lyrics had struck him right where she intended. The raw emotion in Gianna's voice had reached somewhere deep within Bucky, stirring something he'd been trying to repress for weeks.
Without uttering a word, Bucky turned abruptly and left the room. His footsteps echoed against the high ceilings as he walked away. The team exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of what to do, or what he'd do, for that matter.
Natasha sighed softly. "Give him some space," she suggested, tugging at the sleeve of Steve's uniform. Clearly torn between following his friend and taking a much needed shower, he finally nodded.
Bucky, still clad in the dirt-streaked and blood-coated armor, moved with an urgency that mirrored the chaos in his mind. He needed to run, to escape the haunting words of the song, to process the emotions that had been stirred by Gianna's performance. He had to get her voice, her angry eyes out of his head. For weeks, he'd told himself that he did the right thing. He set her free, he wasn't holding her back anymore. But tonight…seeing her made him question everything. He had something, someone so incredible. After him, she was a shadow.
Was he really that dangerous, that he could utterly destroy the woman he loved in his attempt to spare her?
Outside, the cool night air hit him as he sprinted through the compound's trails. The sound of his boots on the pavement echoed his racing thoughts. Each step seemed to distance him from the echoes of the past that had resurfaced, and yet, the weight on his chest threatened to crush him.
Gianna
The night air was buzzing with excitement as Gianna stepped into the upscale lounge. The atmosphere was a blend of dimmed lights, smooth jazz, and the muted hum of conversation. She navigated the prestigious crowd, catching glimpses of familiar faces from the entertainment industry. It had been over a year since she'd been at this particular spot, a favorite of celebrities in New York. With her newfound loneliness, ahem, freedom - she'd been doing her best to get out and socialize. Be seen again. She was never a huge fan of the performative nature of her industry, but she sure knew how to play the game. The more she was spotted out and about, the further away the headlines about her alleged breakup would get.
So here she was, in a meticulously styled outfit, attending an after party for an event she didn't even remember the name of. Jimmy had invited her after the taping of the show earlier that afternoon. Her options were to say yes or to go back to her empty penthouse, and she was all out of the good gin anyways.
Gianna sidled up to the bar between overstuffed velvet stools and ordered a dirty martini. Another female artist and a friend of Gianna joined her at the bar, greeting her with a hug. They exchanged pleasantries amidst the loud chatter, discussing new albums and sharing touring stories.
Jimmy Fallon appeared, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Hey, Gianna, got a question for you," Jimmy said, interrupting their conversation as he held out his phone.
Curiosity etched on her face, Gianna glanced at the phone he offered. On the screen was a text conversation where her name jumped out. As she skimmed through the messages, Jimmy leaned in with a conspiratorial smile.
"Sebastian Stan wanted to say hi. Mind if I share your number?"