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“Sergeant Barnes, I know you want to go out there and fight, but you’re just too injured to even leave your bed, let alone go out and shoot guns! I’m terribly sorry, but there will be plenty of Nazis to shoot up once you’re healed.”
The nurse tending to him smiled prettily and patted his head before exiting. Bucky clenched his fists and thought about how amusing it was that anyone here thought he still gave a damn about fighting the good fight. He was just here to watch Steve’s back, but after the incident on Zola’s train he’d been put out of action for months. Bucky closed his eyes and tried not to imagine the terrible things that could be happening to Steve at this very instant, like being shot or tortured or God, what if he’s killed-
“Bucky?”
Bucky’s eyes flew open. “Steve?”
“Hey,” Steve said, crossing the room to crouch by the side of his bed. “I wanted to see how you were doing before I left.”
“Dandy,” Bucky replied sarcastically. “Sure is fun to be bed-ridden with some stupid injury while your best friend goes out and does all sorts of dumb, reckless things while you lay there and fret like you’re a nervous housewife.”
“Aw, Buck,” Steve said, running a hand through Bucky’s hair. “You’re my nervous wife even when you’re right there watching my six.”
Bucky glared at him and Steve’s grin widened. “Seriously, Buck, I’ll be fine. Gonna bring down HYDRA and be back for dinner, that much closer to winning the war and bringing us home, alright? Just think about that instead.”
“Alright,” Bucky said, even though he knew the only thought he would have until his dumb punk came back was Steve’s gonna get himself killed, and I’m not gonna be able to do anything about it.
Steve sighed and got to his feet, opening his mouth as if he were about to say something before closing it. Bucky understood. He had no idea what to say, either.
“Well,” Bucky said finally. “Is this the part where I get my goodbye kiss?”
Steve laughed and rolled his eyes, giving Bucky a shove on his uninjured shoulder. “Jerk.”
“Punk,” Bucky returned fondly. “See you later.”
“See you later, Bucky.”
~~~
When Agent Carter returned to the base, Bucky demanded to be taken to see her and find out what had happened. The nurses suggested Agent Carter go to him and explain, but after asking Peggy she refused to leave the radio room and ordered Barnes to be brought to her.
Bucky ignored the excruciating pain igniting in his left shoulder and the slightly duller but still very much so there pain in the rest of his body as he was wheeled out to Ms. Carter.
“Sergeant,” she said with a nod. “Captain Rogers boarded Schmidt’s plane and was going to take him out or at least stop the missiles. We’re waiting for him to make contact with his coordinates so we can pick him up and bring him home.”
Her voice, with its crisp accent, was strained and almost sounded on the verge of cracking. Bucky sat up straighter in his wheelchair.
“Miss-”
She shook her head. “I have the utmost faith in Steve, Sergeant Barnes,” she said fiercely. “And I know you do too, even more so, actually. Steve’s going to stop Schmidt and he’s going to come back to us.”
Bucky looked at her, and understood who she meant by “us.” Not the Army, or America, the Commandos, anyone-he was going to come back to her, and to him. She had faith.
Bucky had faith, too, and it was the only thing that kept him going.
He nodded briskly at this and wheeled himself next to her, where she was a few feet away from the radio. Jim sat in front of it, fiddling idly with controls. His nervousness was clear in the jerky way his hands moved around the knobs, switches, and a mess of other things Bucky had no idea what to do with.
Peggy cleared her throat and rested a hand on Bucky’s right shoulder, not saying another word. Bucky’s heart constricted and he tightened his lips.
“Come in! This is Captain Rogers, do you read me?”
Peggy’s hand vanished and Bucky’s head shot up, pulse racing at the sound of Steve’s staticky voice.
“Captain Rogers, what is your-”
Peggy forced Morita out of the way and gestured for Bucky to join her. He moved to her side as quickly as he could, hope and fear fighting ferociously in his chest.
“Steve, is that you? Are you alright?”
“Peggy?” Steve croaked.
Bucky felt a surge of jealousy for the way Steve said her name and was going to move to give them some privacy to talk when Steve spoke again.
“Is Bucky there?”
Peggy nodded, forgetting that Steve couldn’t see it. “Yes, he’s right here, Steve,” she assured him.
“Bucky?”
“Hey, pal,” Bucky said.
“Schmidt’s dead,” he told them, and Bucky felt relief swell in him.
“Good, then give us your coordinates and we’ll find you someplace to land your stupid ass, huh?”
There was a beat of silence before Steve spoke again.
“I’m not landing the plane, Bucky.”
Something inside of Bucky turned cold. “Steve?” was all he said.
“There’s not gonna be a safe place to land it, Buck,” Steve said softly, obviously trying to comfort Bucky. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Peggy,” he added.
“Steve,” she said desperately.
“I’ll need a raincheck for our dance, alright?” Steve said.
“Of course,” Peggy replied, voice finally cracking. “When you come back, we’ll set a time.” With that, she stood up and touched Bucky softly on the arm before taking a few steps away.
“Listen to me, Steve,” Bucky snarled into the radio. “Don’t you think for a minute that you’re gonna die all nobly and not jump out of that goddamn plane and marching straight back here!”
“I’m sorry, Bucky,” Steve repeated tiredly.
“All those flus and bouts of pneumonia in a shabby apartment in the middle of winter and you survived. Constantly fighting guys twice the size of you and you never backed down, Rogers, and you sure as hell ain’t backing down now, do you hear me?” Bucky looked around for a solution. “I can get Stark, he might know what to do-”
“No, Buck, this is it,” Steve interrupted. “But you’ll still go home, right? I won’t be there, but you will. That’s what matters.” Bucky wasn’t sure if Steve was still talking to him at that point.
“No,” Bucky denied. “You-till the end of the line, right, punk? You can’t do this to me. Please, Steve. Don’t do this to me.”
There was a whine of engines in the background and Bucky knew this was it.
“Steve,” he whispered. “Steve, pal, I love you.”
He could picture the warm smile on Steve’s face, covered in grime and sweat and probably blood, could see the resignation in his eyes, see the approaching ice as Steve prepared to crash.
“Aw, Buck,” Steve said, and suddenly they were back in their apartment in Brooklyn, Steve struggling to breathe the stuffy, humid air while Bucky fretted and opened and shut windows. For a moment he could pretend they were young and Steve was small again, and that this was just any old conversation, not the very last one he and Steve would ever have. “You know that I’ve always-”
There was a crackle of static and the line went dead.
“Steve?”
Nothing.
No.
No no no no no….
“Steve?” he repeated, voice cracking. Damn if anyone near him thought of him as weak now, Steve was fucking dead and though he kept breathing Bucky would never again be alive, oh God-
“Steve?” he said one last time. He heard a choked sob behind him and turned to see Peggy with tears streaming down her face.
“Oh my God, Steve,” he said one last time before slumping in front of the radio. The lights overhead hadn’t flickered, but the world around Bucky suddenly seemed a little dimmer.
Everyone silently exited the room expect Agent Carter. Bucky continued to demand Steve respond, flipping switches madly as he tried to reestablish a connection with Schmidt’s plane. It was pointless.
“Barnes,” Peggy said behind him, voice thick with tears, “Barnes, Bucky, I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry.”
Bucky could hardly hear her over the sounds of his entire world collapsing.
~~~
Later, when HYDRA came for him, he barely resisted. Steve would be furious with him, no doubt, but he wouldn’t have any right to be, after the shit he pulled before crashing into the ice. He could hear the doctors discussing how surprising it was that he clung to desperately to the memory of Steve, but somewhere deep down Bucky continued to hope against hope that Stark’s searches would turn up Steve and Bucky would be able to finally breathe correctly even though he wasn’t the one with asthma.
(Actually, Steve didn’t have asthma either at that point, but Bucky still thought of home and Brooklyn just like Steve told him to, and home was Steve’s rattling coughs and fist-shaped bruises on fragile skin and cuddling in the very heart of winter.)
Steve’s loss was always a heavy weight on Bucky’s chest, and once all his memories of his best friend had been wiped, Bucky-the Winter Soldier-was empty.
Everything in him was blank and silent, except for a noise in the back of his mind that he could never really quite explain, so he tended to ignored it. The noise sounded like radio static, and it never stopped haunting Bucky.