Past Lives Pt. 1 - Bucky Barnes.
Time - travel. Angst. Unrequited love. Fluff. Ft. Sam Wilson.
"I think I'm in love with you." Out with it I go. James Buchanan Barnes, the former Winter Soldier, my partner, my teammate, my best friend, stares back at me, unblinking.
You could hear a pin drop fifty miles away if you tried.
I take Bucky's silence as a sign to keep going.
"We've known each other for two years now and, mission to mission, catastrophe after catastrophe, we have had each other's backs," I take a breath. Steady myself.
"It wasn't always easy, and we've had our differences and fair share of disagreements, but there's no one else I want to do this with, Bucky." I sigh, heart frozen in my chest, "You're it for me."
Bucky has the most unique set of eyes I have ever seen. The kind that pulls you in deep, leaves you frozen on the spot and inspires you to quote comically cliche poems at him in hopes of being spared a glance. Truly, Bucky is so beautiful that most days it's hard to look straight at him, but now I choose to face danger head on as I bare my heart out.
Bucky opens his mouth, but it takes him a second to collect himself enough to speak.
"Doll, I…" He's looking away, anywhere but at me, I realize.
My heart clatters inside my ribcage until I'm sure it caught on a fractured bone and exploded.
"Yes?" I say, quiet now, meek. I expected it. After all, Bucky is a go-getter - if he wants a girl, he'll go right after her. I should have known.
I'm so fucking stupid.
Always over-estimating my place in other people's lives.
Bucky seems to take in big breath, but I can barely see him. My vision is hazy, blurred. I vaguely sense the burning of my eyes.
"I can't do this, doll," is all he says, "I'm sorry."
How long it takes, for one heart to trust another. How quickly it all shatters, I think.
"I-" Mortifyingly, my lower lip quivers. "Is it me?"
"No! Doll, don't be ridiculous." Bucky corrects quickly, reaching out to caress my cheek with his flesh arm. I realize he must be wiping a stray tear.
"I'm just - I don't know if I'm ready."
I nod. Try to smile. Step away.
Instinctively, Bucky reaches for me, but his hand falls short at the distance between us and drops to his side instead.
"Are we…going to be okay?" He asks, wincing.
That nails the coffin. I feel my face crumble, so I tilt myself away from the man of my dreams, the man that's breaking my heart. I push through the pain and nod again.
"Dude, yeah, don't even stress it." I whisper, voice hoarse.
Bucky doesn't take the bait, doesn't laugh, just stares at me with big, sad eyes. He reaches a hand out to me again, but I roughly push it out.
"Don't you dare feel bad for me, Barnes. I don't need your pity." I snap, embarrassed.
"Doll, that's not-" he starts, but I cut him off.
"And don't fucking call me that! Don't be so condescending. This whole time I thought there was something here, that I wasn't crazy. You call me sweet names and hold me close after nightmares and look at me the way you do only to not - ." I stop myself, gesturing at the space between us. "If you were just using me for comfort and company, then it's done." I breathe hard.
I know it's not fair to my sweet, gentle Bucky. But laying your heart bare to someone and them pushing it back into your open arms is a different kind of pain. Don't judge until you try it.
Bucky's ocean eyes grow heated. I won't let him speak more, everything's said and done now.
"I'll see you Monday." I say finally, slamming Bucky's apartment door as I leave.
Bucky doesn't call out. Doesn't chase me down the street.
I can't believe I was so fucking stupid. I shake outside of Bucky's apartment complex until I'm sure all the makeup of my face has been wiped clean.
I dial the only other living friend I have left.
"What's up?" Sam's commanding voice is a welcome change from Bucky's soft and apologetic rumble.
I sob into the phone for long enough for Sam to trace my location.
"Oh, kid." He crouches by my slumped form on the floor. "Let's get you up and outta here."
I cling to Cap for dear life.
"He's the only man I've ever loved" I tell Sam, nursing the drink in my hand.
Sam stares at me with the sympathy and understanding he only ever reserves for his family - Sarah, and, more recently, Bucky.
He sighs, grimacing into the distance. I realize how this must look for him: his small team of surviving heroes - falling apart at the seams.
"I'm sorry you have to deal with this." I whisper, suddenly captivated by the bubbles fusing at the bottom of my glass.
"Hey," he says gently, head snapping back to me, "You cut that shit out, right now."
"Smartass. You're my friend - I'll do just about anything to ease the pain you're in right now. Hell, I was just looking for a reason to beat Bucky's cyborg ass."
I snort, barely fighting a smile.
"There she is," Sam teases.
Then his face turns somber.
"Can you still work with the guy?" he asks, leaning in. "This mission we got on Monday, it's tough, Y/n."
I look up but don't respond.
In all my drama I overlooked how deep the lines in Sam's forehead had been etched there for a while. I don't remember the last time he relaxed, or even took a break from being Captain America.
"We need all hands on deck," he insists. "Which is just three pairs of hands but it's still something."
I let myself contemplate for a minute longer despite already knowing the answer.
"Yeah, 'course, Sam. I'll be there."
To say the atmosphere in the room is tense is a grave understatement.
"So, I'll start," says Sam, taking the lead of the mission brief. He eyes Bucky and me with careful measure. Bucky stares straight ahead, and I try similarly to concentrate on the copy of the files printed and carefully laid out in front of me. In the time that it took me to read and re-read my copy, Bucky kept his untouched.
I pretend not to see the deep dark circles that blossomed under his eyes when we exchanged equally cold "good mornings".
"We're time-traveling, now?" I ask, unamused by the idea in light of recent events.
"This is a very high-profile mission," explains Sam, devoid of his warmth from a few nights ago. This was Captain America speaking.
"There's been a breach at the base - some high-tech equipment from Tony's lab has mysteriously disappeared. We have reason to believe that Tony's time machine has been activated last week, sending one or possibly several armed suspects back into the 40s. The mission is to find and bring them back to this timeline, where they will be dealt with by our laws and regulations without causing more trouble."
"What makes you think they're hiding out in the 40s?" Bucky speaks up for what feels like the first time today. I dig my nails into my clothed thigh, trying hard not to think about how deep and smooth Bucky's voice is.
Bucky is figuratively perfect, it's hard to believe that he's walking around like this without a girl on his arm. Or maybe he already has someone - which would justify him turning me down.
I tell myself it would hurt less if he was already taken.
"I'm not actually sure," says Sam. "That kid - Spiderman - or whatever kids like to call themselves these days - pretty much handles all of Stark's leftover equipment and labs. He says that's where they're at." Sam finishes with a shrug.
"So, let me get this straight," I clear my throat. "You want us to undergo this incredibly dangerous mission in completely uncharted territory just because some kid's got a hunch?"
From the corner of my eye, I can almost see Bucky nodding along with my words, equally displeased.
"It's not uncharted - our team has done this before to bring everybody back." argues Sam.
"And how many of them came back?" I snap, remembering red hair. Ballerina slippers. Knowing green eyes.
I feel both men flinch beside me.
"That was different." rumbles Bucky from the far end of the table.
That wound is too fresh, too deep.
"Don't." I retort. "My best friend didn't die just for us to use that goddamn machine like a toy." Of course, we all know who I'm talking about. Plus, Yelena will kick both of their asses if she hears about this, which makes me wonder if that's why she isn't included in this mission.
"Not "us"," Sam repeats again, voice loud and clear the second time. "Just you."
"Absolutely not." Bucky interrupts, sitting up and fixating Sam with a glare harboring the force of a thousand suns.
Sam ignores Bucky, taking a seat across from me, "I can't go, things are still too tender for me to just disappear for days on end. They'll appoint a new Captain America and storm in to put us all in prison again if they think we're weak," he goes on, taking a gentle hold of my other arm extended across the table.
"Bucky would get recognized by someone within minutes, it's too complicated." Sam continues.
"Sam," Bucky warns from the other end of the room.
"You're our only option." Sam finishes with another sigh. He did that a lot lately, I noted.
"It's not happening. Y/n, tell him you're not going to do it." Bucky's authoritative voice echoes around the conference room. A sense of urgency I can't begin to analyze is there too.
"Y/N." Bucky speaks again, something that was beginning to get on my nerves.
"How dangerous is this equipment again?" I ask Sam, ignoring the forceful sigh from the other end of the room. I didn't care what Bucky thought about me in that moment. Who was he to choose for me, anyway?
"I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't serious." Sam affirms. I know this too, Sam is above all things reliable.
"Well, let's see," I pretend to draw a score board in the air with my finger, "In the event of my death, my family will be heavily compensated. That's one." I shrug.
Bucky's chair scrapes against the floor as he crosses the room to where Sam and I are sitting. "Tell me you're not actually considering this."
Under different circumstances I would have believed that he was pleading.
"I've got nothing to do this week and no one waiting for me at home. Two and three," I drop two more points in the imaginary "pros" side of the board.
"Guess I'm in." I flash Sam my signature grin, one he did not return.
"No one's talking to you!" I snap, whipping my head around to face him directly for the first time today.
He had let a strong stubble grow over the weekend and now looked disheveled on the whole - I quickly push away thoughts of him waking from nightmares, alone and shivering, too stubborn to call me.
His gorgeous blue eyes widen and freeze over as he takes a step toward me.
"Are you doing this to get back at me?"
"Not everything's about you, Barnes." I say, "Sam, I'm in. Let's fuckin' do this."
Let me know what you think & if you want pt2 with 40s Bucky :)
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