Something Like This

Something Like Hope

The one where Steve stays in the past.

Bucky watches Steve nodding along as he listens to Banner explain the mission: go back in time, return the stones, come back ten seconds later. The silver case holding the universe's most powerful objects lies open before them. Bucky's tried staying as far away from them as possible. There's too much magic and mysticism wrapped up in them. He prefers weapons that make sense, that he can touch and disassemble and control.

"I'm gonna miss you," Bucky says when Steve approaches him.

In his peripheral he can see Sam roll his eyes, but that's because Sam doesn't know. Steve hugs him, and Bucky wraps both arms around him. Technically, Bucky doesn't know either. Steve hasn't told him. But then, Bucky wonders if Steve really knows yet.

"Don't do anything stupid until I get back," Steve says, a teasing grin on his face.

"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you," Bucky replies, though the words feel empty. Still, he doesn't miss the way Steve's eyes light up the way they always do when Bucky remembers things from their past.

Steve walks away, and Banner's explaining things one more time. He steps onto the platform, his hair golden in the sunlight, and Banner counts him down. Bucky watches him, stares at him, drinks him in-until he's gone.

Bucky turns away then, looking out over the lake. The feeling of tears burns his eyes, but he ignores it. He hasn't cried in a long, long time.

"Where is he?" Sam asks.

The ten seconds are up, and Steve is gone.

"I don't know," Banner stammers, flicking switches and pressing buttons on the control station.

"Get him back!" Sam exclaims. "Get him the hell back!"

Bucky smiles wryly, thinking to himself that the end of the line was closer than either of them had thought. But then he chastises himself. He knows Steve will find the Bucky in that new branch timeline, knows that they'll fight to eradicate Hydra and prevent them from infiltrating the government. Maybe then Steve's guilt will finally leave him alone.

"Bucky."

He turns at the sound of his name-he no longer has to remind himself that it's his name-and looks at Sam. Banner is still frantically adjusting the controls, but a calmness has taken over Sam as their eyes meet.

"You said you were gonna miss him," Sam says slowly. "You knew he'd be gone for ten seconds, but you said you were gonna miss him."

Bucky gives him a slight nod, then looks out at the lake again. His stomach is a pit, and the tears burn harder. He's surprised by this reaction, until he realizes that he's never lost Steve before. He's gotten close, with Steve's health issues when they were kids and their missions as Commandos, but he's never lost him. Not really. He wonders how Steve kept going all those times when he thought he'd lost Bucky. He wonders how anybody can keep going.

"Bruce, stop," Sam says.

"What? Why?"

"He's not coming back."

"What do you mean he's not coming back?" Banner demands. "We gave him enough Pym particles for ten trips, he should've had plenty extra in case-"

"Think about it," Sam urges gently, and Bucky hears the counselor voice turning on.

There's a pause, and then a soft, "Oh."

Bucky imagines the look on Peggy's face when Steve walks through her door. He imagines the radio and the headlines and the talk in the streets. He imagines what their kids will look like, if they'll have his hair and her eyes. He imagines himself, with no metal arm or programming, being called Uncle Buck instead of Winter Soldier.

He's not mad that Steve didn't ask him to come with. He doesn't belong in that world anymore. Steve does, though. And if he doesn't, he at least can if he wants to. Bucky doesn't have that option anymore.

"So, a world without Captain America," Sam says, standing next to him, but not too close. As much as Sam could be a pain in Bucky's ass, he always seemed to understand Bucky's touch boundaries without even needing to ask.

"Kind of a shitty world," Bucky replies. "But, you know, I had an idea about that."

"You gonna pick up the shield?" Sam asks. "Paint a white star on your shoulder instead?"

Bucky cracks a smile. "Nah. Stripes make me look fat."

Sam's laugh sounds half-startled, like he didn't know Bucky could make a joke. To be fair, Bucky didn't really know it either.

"So who then? And please don't say the Spider-Kid."

"I won't," Bucky replied. "I was gonna say you."

"Me?"

The way Sam says it-disbelieving and a little in awe-endears him to Bucky a little.

"I don't know if it's me," Sam says, and Bucky recognizes self-doubt when he sees it. He's seen it in his own face long enough to know.

"Why not?" Bucky turns away from the lake to look him in the eyes. "Veteran. Honorable. Fights for the little guy. Pain in my ass. You've got all the qualifications."

Sam rolls his eyes. "Oh, I see how it is."

"And?"

"And you've got all those qualifications too," Sam throws back.

Bucky shakes his head and breaks off the eye contact. "No, I don't. Erksine once told Steve that he was chosen because he was a good man, not a perfect soldier. That's what he wanted Captain America to be. But as for me…" He sighs, and his metal arm feels heavy. He briefly thinks about having Shuri make more adjustments to the shoulder joint, but he knows she'll call it psychosomatic. "Well, I'm the opposite."

Sam grunts, and Bucky can tell he wants to argue that point but is choosing not to push it. Bucky appreciates the restraint, but he suspects he'll hear an earful about it later and be told to set up an extra therapy session.

"But also," Bucky continues, shaking it off and looking at him again, "I don't want it. And you do. And it's what Steve would've wanted."

Sam sighs in defeat, and his shoulders slump slightly with the weight of all that the title of Captain America carries with it. Captain America is more than just a soldier or a superhero. He's an ideal, a standard, an example to the American people of how you can always strive to be better. Bucky knows he could never be that, could never want to be that. But he knows Sam can.

"I'll think about it," Sam replies finally. "But I've got one condition."

"What's that?"

"Captain America needs the Winter Soldier." Sam holds out his hand.

Bucky's chest aches, and he looks away again, back at the lake, then he looks the other way at the platform. He realizes he didn't notice when Banner left, and that guy doesn't sneak very well. Then he looks back at Sam.

He meets Sam's gaze, which is steady and strong, and it makes Bucky feel like he's finally standing on solid ground. Captain America needs the Winter Soldier. He doesn't think that's quite true. He thinks it's the other way around. But it feels nice to be needed. And maybe…maybe this could be how he gives back, how he makes up for his years under Hydra control.

Logically, he knows that what he did for Hydra wasn't his fault. He was mind-controlled and brainwashed and gaslighted, and all those other words his psychologist uses. But he can still remember doing them, remember how it felt, remember how it looked and sounded. It still feels like a part of him.

But this…this feels like a new part.

"You've got a deal," he says, and they shake, and for the first time in a long time, Bucky feels something like hope.

Steve going to the past and staying with Peggy is ridiculously out of character for him and trashes his entire arc, but this would've been the way to do it because old!Steve coming back at the end breaks the time travel rules they established in the beginning~

Anyway this is going to be a mini series of Endgame fix-it oneshots! I have two more planned, and then another longer much longer one that'll take me a while to write.

~Ki