When You Were Never Mine

That's a Risky Little Game (Finale)

You couldn't believe your eyes; Bucky was standing right in front of you, only a few feet away, with Tony barely an arm's length from him. To have them both in the same room was a miraculous feat in itself, and to have them both so calm and cooperative left you feeling as if you might be dreaming this. Pushing yourself up and off of the bed, you slowly crossed the room to bring yourself to face Bucky straight on so that you could take in every nuance of his expression when your hand rose up and left a resounding slap against his cheek.

"Okay," Bucky nodded, slowly rubbing the sting from his skin, "I guess I deserved that."

"I had to make sure you were really here," you answered, your voice breaking and barely a whisper. "And yeah, I suppose you did, a little bit. So, what are you doing here, Bucky? Why did you push me out? I was trying to connect to you for hours, and you wouldn't answer my calls or texts-"

"You said that you wanted this," he argued, albeit gently, "so I was just doing what you had already decided on."

"I told you that I would think about what you said. You never gave me the chance." You could feel your heart beginning to race as your adrenaline built, and you couldn't stop the tears from building in your eyes no matter how hard you tried. They weren't tears of sadness, but tears of blind frustration. "You could have told me first. You could have warned me before I felt like my chest was being ripped open and Tony had to carry me through the city to get me home. You could have warned me so I wouldn't have spent hours lying in bed awake and desperate to hear your voice so that I wouldn't think that you were dead!"

"Steve would've called-"

"No," you snapped, "that's not the point. I know that Steve would call me if anything had happened to you because he's my friend. I don't even know what you are anymore. How could you do that to me without telling me that you were okay first? I thought...seriously, Buck, you could have been dead for all I knew. It felt like you were."

"I'm sorry, doll-"

"No, you don't get to call me that," you halted him, taking a few steps back. "Just tell me what you're doing here. What do you want?"

Bucky paused to look back over his shoulder, hoping for support from Tony but knowing that it wouldn't be likely found there. A part of him wanted to just throw up his hands and wash them of this; he wanted to go back to Wakanda and move forward with whatever life he could build from what was left of himself, but it would never feel right if he didn't make amends with you now. He knew that this could be his one and only chance, and he took quick advantage of his trip sponsor to soften your anger. "Tony asked me to come here. He was worried about you."

"What?" you gasped. "Since when are you two friends?"

"Believe me, sweetheart, we're not," Tony answered quietly. He had kept silent since entering the room, standing almost meekly at the door with his hands clasped in front of him and his gaze dropped to his feet. He looked smaller as he stood in Bucky's shadow, but you weren't sure if that were a true representation or if your mind was making you see him that way.

"Okay, then what's your play?"

"Tony says that we should let fate decide this."

"We should let fate decide?" you chuckled sarcastically. "Because I can't decide on my own? Is that it? I told you both, I will always choose Tony. I've said that over and over again, so why doesn't anyone believe me?"

"I do believe you," Tony answered before Bucky could utter a single syllable. He moved across the room, finding his drive with your words, pushing past the other man to get to you and take your hands in his. "I believe you, (Y/N). But you have to look at it from my point of view. You're soulmates with another man-"