bulletproof

27

Y/N shrugged, "I don't know...I'm just here." Her eyes lifted to meet his gaze and he nearly cracked. A tidal wave of emotions was waiting to crash down on him. Hovering over his head like a threat. 

Her eyes were glimmering. She looked so alive, it was like she had never died. 

Steve swallowed again, "It's hard...to think of him now. I don't...I can't think of him like...like I used to."

"He's still your best friend. That's never going to change, Steve," Y/N told him, looking earnestly at him, her eyes searching his, "You forgive him, don't you?" 

He hung his head, "I don't want to."

"I know," She said, lifting her hand, floating millimetres away from him, cautious and careful. She looked like she wanted to touch him. Y/N lowered her hand, "But it's Bucky. And deep down, you know it wasn't his fault."

His eyes were swimming with tears and he made no attempt to conceal them. His eyes were stinging with heartache, and his head drowned in exhaustion. 

"I'm so sorry..." Steve whispered, and Y/N bit her lip, shaking her head and smiling sadly at him, her eyes glazed over and glistening.

"You shouldn't be, it was never Bucky's fault."

"Are you going to leave me again?" Steve asked, watching her as she turned away from him and got up from her chair. The air got a tight hold on his throat and he couldn't breathe. He didn't want her to leave. 

"I was never here, Steve," Y/N replied, "You need to help save the world, time waits for no man."

"But..."

Y/N shook her head, "Your friends need you. Nat needs you." She looked over her shoulder at the doorway, and Steve knew it meant that she was going to leave him. 

No, please stay. The words died on the tip of his tongue as she flashed him a cheeky smile and pressed a ghost-like kiss to his cheek. He couldn't feel her against his skin. He was never going to feel the gentle brush of her lips on his, or the sweet touch of her hands when she entangled her fingers with his. That was never going to happen again.

And then she turned on her heel and ran out of the kitchen, turning back into nothingness.

2016

It had taken him too long to reach out. And even then. This wasn't reaching out. If it hadn't been for the bombing at the UN, he doubted he would even be here, standing in this grubby old apartment, looking around at the sad little ornaments his best friend had put up to try at settle down in this lifestyle, waiting for him to come home.

It was so shitty for their lives to end up like this. For everything to end up like this. But you can't change the past. You can't change anything that happened before now, and you shouldn't, anyway.

He needed Bucky to hurry up. The UN had sent their own forces to go after him and Steve wanted to get to him first. They couldn't get him. Not now, not ever.

Steve's vision blurred at the corners as he lifted the tattered notebook off from the fridge and regarded the small scribbles of notes and memories scrawled across the pages. His breath caught in his throat as he glimpsed the word, or rather, name, Y/N, hidden amongst the rest of the words.

He flipped to another page, staring at the pages with photos of 'Captain America'. Did Bucky even...did he even remember who Steve was? Or who he, himself, was?

"Heads up, Cap. German special forces approaching from the south." Sam's muffled warning sang out from Steve's earpiece.

They needed to hurry, now.