Grief

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Trigger Warning: This chapter contains descriptions and mentions of blood, death and death aftermath/grief.

„Steve, Steve? Hey!" Why was someone shaking him? He didn't want to be shaken. He didn't want to have anything happen to him.

„Say something!"
That was Sam. Steve knew that voice, it was Sam. Sam was talking to him. Shaking him and yelling. Why was he yelling? Steve didn't want him to yell.
„Steve, you can hear me, right? Steve, I need you to focus. Focus!"

His chest was burning as he stared at the dusty ground in front of him, the color of the sandy area beige. But it wasn't just beige. He didn't want to focus, he didn't want to think about the patch of beige that was turning crimson. Crimson and sticky with blood.
Blood from where he had blown his brains out. Chest clenching, Steve felt his whole body trembling as he curled into himself, a heartbreaking wail escaping his mouth as he shook his head, his throat aching. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't, he couldn't loose Bucky.

„Steve!" Sam repeated, shaking his shoulders. „Look at me, look at me!"
Steve shook his head, trembling as he redirected his gaze to him, starting to sob hysterically. „H-he...!"
„Calm. Down." Sam shook his head a bit, shaking Steve's shoulders slightly. Completely overwhelmed with the sight he'd gotten back to. „What happened? Talk to me, Steve."
Steve whimpered, shaking his head as he sobbed again. „H-He killed him! H-he... m-my love, he...!" He sobbed harshly again, completely loosing it as he felt like a freezing cold void of hatred and fear was devouring him. A cold void of grief. „HE KILLED HIM, SAM! H-HE KILLED BUCKY!"

Sam glanced over to the side, eyes widening slightly as he shook his head a bit. „Steve. Focus. You're confused."
„H-HE KILLED HIM!" Steve yelled, but his voice broke as he said it again. „M-my baby!"
„No, Steve! You're confused. Bucky needs you. He needs you to focus." Sam had his hands on Steve's face, slapping his cheek softly to get him to focus. „Take a breath."
Steve just sobbed, his perfectly enhanced lungs feeling like they'd implode with panic. „B-Bucky!"

„Steve..." Sam shook his head a bit, glancing towards the side again. „Focus. Tell me about what you think happened."
Steve whimpered, shaking his head. „H-he shot Bucky! R-Rumlow shot him!"
„Steve." Sam sighed, shaking his head a bit. „He didn't."
Steve shook his head, gasping for air. „H-he... I-I saw! He killed my baby!"
„Listen to me. He didn't shoot Bucky." Sam shook his head, glancing to the side again. „He shot himself. Right there, in Bucky's arms." Nodding slowly, Sam tried to get Steve to stand up. „He needs you, now."

„Y-you're lying..." Steve shook his head, shaking. „H-he had the gun to Bucky's head a-and I didn't react and now I lost him!"
„No, Steve. You didn't loose him. But he's loosing himself, right now. I think he's in shock. He needs you." Sam nodded, grabbing Steve's head and turning it carefully so he had to look.
Had to look at Bucky's back facing them, his whole body tense as he held Rumlow's dead body, cradling it in his arms as the puddle of blood next to him increased in size.

Whole chest still aching, Steve opened his mouth as a sob mixed with his words. „B-Bucky."
Trembling horribly, Steve slowly let Sam help him up. „B-Bucky, look at me."
His voice was still raspy as he made his way around Bucky's left side, avoiding the blood on the right as he took in his lover, his tense frame on the ground as he held Rumlow so close Steve thought he might crush him. „C-can you hear me?"

His big blue eyes were vacant as they stared at the ground in front of him, his face splattered with hot red that contrasted his eyes. He didn't even seem to realize Steve was talking to him, as he didn't show any reaction and just sat there, cradling the dead body as more blood ran from Rumlow's mutilated head.
„Bucky..." Steve slowly crouched down, carefully extending his hand to him, telling himself he needed to calm down, though his heart still ached from the shock of thinking he'd lost him. „Love, can you hear me?"

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