The Smithsonian was busy just as it normally was during the day. The visitors mostly consisted of Washington's tourists, as well as a few residents. On any normal day, Steve would've greeted them all with open arms, but at the moment he was trying to lay low for Connie's sake.
One thing Steve noticed that had changed about Connie over the years was the way she interacted with people. Back then, when it was just the three of them, Connie was one of the most outgoing people in the world. She loved people and she loved talking to people, but now it appeared to be quite the opposite. Connie loved helping people and she loved defending them, and she would never stop, but she didn't particularly enjoy engaging in a conversation with them. She only really willingly spoke to Natasha and Steve, as well as Nick and Agent Coulson—when he was alive—and a few of her other coworkers. Steve wasn't sure why that was, and truth be told, Connie wasn't sure of it either. She just knew that talking to people now provoked a peculiar anxiety inside her.
Steve and Connie continued walking through the corridors of the Smithsonian, their baseball caps low on their faces to prevent from being recognized. Connie never thought she would ever be as recognized as she had been, but apparently being one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top agents and of close relation to Steve Rogers reserved her a spot in the limelight; it was the same with Natasha, though Natasha didn't exactly mind it as much as Connie did.
Connie's breath caught in her throat as the two neared the exhibit entrance. Steve noticed her uneasiness and frowned before wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close to him. He knew that the topic regarding their past was a touchy one for Connie, and he knew it was because of Bucky. He was definitely prepared for an emotional response from Connie, but regardless of the fact, it didn't make him feel better. Connie was the closest thing he had to a family—she was his family—and seeing her upset made him upset. The factor that made things worse was knowing there was nothing he could do take away the feelings he was sure would exist for the rest of her life. The only one capable of taking them away was gone.
"It's okay, Con," Steve assured her as he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.
Connie looked up at him with a gracious smile on her face, though it didn't quite reach her brown eyes.
The two continued walking, stopping every once and awhile to look at old pictures of Steve that hung on the walls of the exhibit. Connie got a really good kick out of it and that made Steve feel better about practically forcing her to come with him. She enjoyed making fun of him, though she didn't forget to tell him how proud she was of him. He had come so far in life, and while most people were thankful to know Captain America, Connie was thankful to know both him and Steve Rogers—the real Steve Rogers.
"Battle tested, Captain America and his Howling Commandos quickly earned their stripes."
The voice overhead alerted Connie to the part of the exhibit they were entering, but rather than shying away from it, she indulged in it. She gazed up at the clothed mannequins on the stand in wonder and nostalgia. It was only now that she was beginning to realize just how difficult it was not to think about her past as she stood in the middle of the exhibit.
"Their mission: taking down Hydra, the Nazi rogue science division."
Connie trailed away from Steve as she took notice of a particular plaque in the middle of the room, though he was right behind her. She swallowed the growing lump in her throat as her brown eyes landed on the picture ingrained into the glass, the picture of the man she would spend the rest of her natural life loving.
"Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers were inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield. Barnes is the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of his country," the voice overhead spoke.
Connie's tear-filled gaze fell to the small screen below her, which displayed old video footage of Bucky and Steve. She watched and watched until she couldn't anymore. The smile that used to bring her so much happiness now brought her nothing but pain; the blue eyes that used to bring her so much joy and comfort now brought her nothing but tears.
Connie missed Bucky. . .so much. Up until now she had done an excellent job concealing her emotions, but at the moment she didn't care at all. She didn't realize how much pain she had built up inside her, nor did she realize that hiding that pain would only make things worse. Connie hadn't properly mourned Bucky Barnes in 70 years, which meant she had a good 70 years worth of emotion built up, and as of right now she knew it wasn't healthy.
Without another thought, Connie took off through the crowd of people, leaving a very worried Steve to follow after her. He knew what was about to happen, and he didn't really think he was prepared for it. If Connie broke down, as Steve knew she would, it would be unlike he'd ever seen her before. She was unaware of it, but Steve knew about her emotional concealment, and he knew just how much of it she worked to conceal each day. It was the sole reason he reminded her daily that she could not continue to run from her feelings, but she was still just as stubborn as she used to be.
"Connie," Steve called after her as she exited the museum.
Connie ignored him and continued on towards her vehicle, tears spilling violently from her eyes as she did so. She could feel the overwhelming amount of emotion inside her body, and she wasn't sure whether or not she could handle it. She was supposed to be one of the strongest people in the world, yet she had finally found what was truly capable of breaking her, and that was James Buchanan Barnes.
"Connie, wait," Steve's voice sounded again.
Steve's words only sent her mind back 70 years, much to her despair.
In seconds, an old memory was playing itself inside her mind and no matter how hard she tried to turn it off, she couldn't; the mere thought of him would not permit it.
It was raining; her hair was drenched and her makeup had practically disintegrated. Connie marched down the street as quickly as her heeled shoes would allow her, but her pace wasn't as quick as she hoped it to be. She could hear his voice behind her as he called out for her to wait, as well as his footsteps pounding against the saturated sidewalk. He was coming after her, that much she knew, but she was unsure of why.
"Connie," the voice she had grown to love over the years called out to her.
Connie didn't stop in her haste, though. She knew that within the next few seconds he would be headed back to the bar to continue what he had started with the disgustingly beautiful redhead that had caught his eye. Connie wasn't sure why seeing Bucky with another girl bothered her so much; she wasn't sure why seeing him with another girl pained her to the core. The two weren't even together, yet the mere thought of him with someone other than herself disgusted her. She didn't want another female to give him the attention she knew she could; she didn't want another female to give him the love that she knew she could. She just didn't want another female to have him.
"Constance Mae," Bucky called out again, stopping Connie in her tracks. Connie hated being called by her birth name—she absolutely despised it. She knew that Bucky knew this, too, which was the only reason he had chosen to use it in the first place.
"What?" she snapped as she turned around to face the blue-eyed man.
His clothes were drenched from the rain, as was his hair. His blue eyes held confusion, as well as a bit of annoyance.
"Why'd you run off like that, Con?" Bucky breathed out as he slowed to a stop in front of her.
Connie rolled her eyes at him. She had been hinting at her feelings toward him for years, yet he never seemed to pick up on them, and this was something that hurt her deeply. "Why don't you go ask that redhead?"
Bucky's brows fell in further confusion and he shook his head. "What are you talking about, Connie?"
"I honestly can't believe you right now," Connie scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
"What?" Bucky said to her. "Why are you so mad that I was talkin' to that girl?"
"You weren't just talkin' to her; you were flirting and I'm pretty sure you even kissed her," Connie spoke sadly, though she tried to cover it up.
Bucky threw his hands up in slight defeat. "So?"
Connie only shook her head and turned around to walk away. He was so oblivious to her feelings and she couldn't stand it. It was beginning to make her believe that he couldn't possibly feel the same way he did, despite numerous claims from Steve.
Bucky reached out and grabbed Connie by the arm before she could get too far, and he spun her back around, his blue eyes boring into her brown ones. "Tell me what the hell is wrong with you, Con."
Connie's jaw clenched as she thought about what to say to him, but further decided it was better to just say what came out rather than take the time and risk screwing things up.
"I like you, okay?" Connie admitted. "I really, really like you, and I've been hinting at it for the past year and a half now, but you never seem to wanna pick up on it."
Bucky's eyes widened slightly and he took a step back. "W-what?"
Connie only shrugged. "You heard me. That's why I'm so angry you were talkin' to that girl; that's why I'm so upset you were talkin' to that girl. I know I don't have much of a right to feel the way I do, if any at all, but I do, and it's because of how I feel about you, Buck."
"Connie, I—"
"No, it's okay," Connie cut him off. "I completely understand if you don't feel the same, but I just needed to let you know how I felt."
A small smile pulled at the corner of Bucky's lips and he stepped forward. "The thing is, I do feel the same. I guess I never told you because Steve would always tell me you did, and a part of me thought he was only doin' it to make me feel better about my feelings."
"If you feel that way about me then how come it's so easy for you to go around with all these girls?" Connie asked with a frown on her face.
"It's not." Bucky sighed, "It's really only a distraction to help me get away from how I feel about you, Connie."
Connie stepped closer to him, taking his hand in her own. "You should have told me."
"I know, love," Bucky said as he squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I just didn't know how to."
A certain darkness then followed his words, ripping Connie clean from her thoughts. She could feel that moment so deeply, almost as if she were experiencing it again for the very first time. Truth be told, she wouldn't mind being back in that moment or back with him for that matter. Things for her seemed to be so much easier back then, and she could only imagine how things with Bucky would've turned out.
The thought of it only further upset and angered Connie, and without thinking, she swung her fist at the nearest object, which just so happened to be a car window. Her fist smashed clean through the glass, leaving several shards embedded into her bleeding knuckles.
"Connie!" Steve yelled as he ran towards her.
Once again, Connie ignored him. She sat herself down on the sidewalk and cried, only taking notice of Steve when he sat down next to her and pulled her close.
"This shouldn't be my life," Connie forced out through her tears as she finally looked up at Steve. "This was never supposed to be my life."
"I know," Steve sighed.
"We were supposed to get married, Steve; I found the ring in his chest of drawers," Connie exclaimed with a sob. "Did you know he was going to propose to me after you guys came home?"
Steve let out a shaky breath and nodded, eliciting yet another sob from the small brunette. "He spent four months planning it with me, Connie. He was gonna buy you a nice dress and take you into the city to have dinner where the two of you had your first date. Then, he was gonna take you dancing at the Stork Club, where I would soon join the two of you, and then he was going to ask you in front of everyone."
By now, Steve had also began to cry, though his tears had not exceeded those of Connie's. News of Bucky's plans only further upset her, and she hugged Steve tightly as if to find some sort of comfort and solace from him.
"All I needed was eight months," Connie sniffed. "Eight months and he would've been home for good."
"I'm so sorry, Connie," Steve apologized, though he knew it wouldn't do much good. "You two definitely weren't destined for this fate."
Little did Steve know, this was the only fate the two of them were destined for.