A/N - This chapter is based on the song 'death bed (coffee for your head)' by Powfu ft Beabadoobee. Last time I wrote about Bucky, i broke my own heart by making him and utter asshole... this time I broke it again for very different reasons. I hope you all enjoy it.
P.s. There is a trigger warning here for death and terminal illness.
Life with Bucky had been going pretty perfectly. It had become this wonderful domestic lifestyle that left you both happier than you had ever thought possible. You had loved falling into a routine with him. Going on walks together and watching films. You'd even found that helping his with his nightmares was never as bad as you would have expected.
And then Bucky had started getting sick. At first, he'd just been tired a lot, nothing that unusual. He lived a pretty physical life and sometimes he over did it in the gym. It had been easy to explain away as normal fatigue. But then he'd gotten this cough. You'd assumed it was a cold at first, and for the first three weeks you'd just ignored it. After that you'd become a little concerned. When he'd started losing weight and complaining, semi-regularly, about stomach pain you'd gotten a little scared and ordered him to go for a doctor's appointment.
A few weeks later, after a couple of tests, you'd gone with him for his results. You hadn't thought he would be nervous. He was superhero and faced guns and bad guys all the time, but this was something different. The way he clung onto your hand like he thought you might dart from the room and leave him alone was starting to scare you.
"Morning, Mr Barnes," the doctor had started, coming to sit across the desk from you, and offering a weak smile. It was then that you knew something was wrong. You'd been going to the same doctor for years, and he was always one of the happiest men you had ever known, but now, even he looked a little pained. "As you know, we had to run a lot of tests since I saw you last." Bucky nodded, his hand tightening in yours, and you shifted to place your free hand on his knee. "Unfortunately, the tests didn't come back with the results we were hoping for," he continued, and you felt your breath catch in your throat.
"What does that mean?" Bucky's voice was thick, and you had to bite down on your lips to stop the whimper that wanted to escape you.
"The scan found tumours in both your Pancreas and your Lungs. We are under the impression that the radiation from the serum you were given may have sped up the spread of the cancerous cells."
There it was. Cancer. Your hand released Bucky's knee, lifting to wipe at the tears that were beginning to form in your eyes. "But we can do something about it, right?" you murmured, sniffing to get rid of the thickness in your voice. "He can have chemo, or something, right?"
The doctor swallowed, and without him even having to say a word, you knew the answer. "I'm afraid the tumours seem to be growing at a much faster speed than they would in a normal cancer patient. The most we can do is offer Palliative treatments in order to make life as comfortable as possible."
"How long?" Bucky uttered. God, you didn't want to know the answer. How could you just go back to your normal life if you knew that he could be gone soon.
"We aren't sure. It could be anywhere between a month and a year. I would suggest making the most of your time together."
*Time Skip*
You'd both cried that night, huddled together on the sofa and just wishing life could be different. There had been a time where you had imagined your lives together, sitting in a similar position. You would speak for hours about the house you would buy together and the wedding you would have. You'd even started thinking about kids at one point. But now, those talks all just felt like wasted time.
"I'm sorry." The words had almost broken your heart when Bucky had whimpered them through his tears, his face pressed into your neck. "I'm so sorry."
"Oh baby," you murmured softly, brushing your fingers through his hair. "This isn't your fault," you told him pulling his closer to you as he continued to cry. "I could never blame you for this," you added as you attempted to pull yourself together. For now, he was still alive, and he was still here, and that was all that mattered.
Bucky pulled away, glancing up at your face, as if checking to see that you weren't lying to him. He paused for a moment, simply staring at you. "Marry me."
"Buck," you uttered, lifting a hand to brush over his cheek.
"I know it won't be the wedding we wanted at this short notice, but this way, when I go, the flat will go into your name and there won't be all that hassle-"
"Of course, I'll marry you," you told him, drawing him into a gentle kiss. "I would be honoured to be your wife."
When it came to getting married on short notice, you were pretty lucky that you had Tony as one of your close friends. Even if he had been a little reluctant about your relationship with Bucky at first, he knew how much you loved him, and would have done anything to make sure your shotgun wedding went off without a hitch.
Only a week after the doctor had told you the news, you were waiting at the door, ready to walk down the aisle and marry the man you loved. Tony walked out to come and join you a moment later, linking his arm with yours.
"I've never seen him look so nervous," he uttered, causing a small smile to bloom on your lips. "He's got Steve whispering sweet nothings in his ear to calm him down."
A sweet laugh burst out of you at that, and you nudged him slightly with your hip. "Well, better him than you. Can't imagine what you'd be telling him right now if you weren't with me."
"Probably that you'd run away to join the circus, or something," he murmured, causing another laugh to bubble out of you.
You released a small sigh as the music started up, and squeezed his arm lightly. "Thank you for doing this," you told him softly. "It means the world to me."
Tony gave a short nod, and then the doors were pulled open. "I know."
As Bucky came into your view, your smile grew. If you hadn't known the true situation behind your wedding, you never would have guessed. Bucky looked stunning in his suit, and the smile he was giving you was absolutely breathtaking.
When you reached him, you took his hand in yours, and he leant in to press a kiss to your cheek. "You can still run, you know?" he murmured in you ear, and you released a small chuckle.
"Never," you responded quickly, turning to face the officiant.
*Time Skip*
It turned out the doctor had been right. After the wedding, Bucky's health had taken a real downward trajectory. Within a week, he was finding it hard to get out of bed, looking guilty any time he had to ask you for any help.
"I'm sorry to do this," he had started one morning, when you were cuddled into his side. "But my mouth is super dry," he continued, his hand giving your shoulder a light squeeze. "Would you mind-"
"Water or coffee?" you murmured, sitting up slightly with a soft smile.
"Coffee would be great," he uttered, and you began moving out of his grip. He caught your hand, drawing you back to him for a moment to press a kiss to your lips. "Thank you."
You smiled again, running your fingers over his jaw, which had become a little more pronounced in the last couple of weeks. "I'm your wife," you told him, wrinkling your nose at him. "It's my job."
"I don't deserve you," he murmured as you pressed your lips to his again before climbing out of bed.
*Time Skip*
Three weeks later, Bucky was practically incapable of doing anything. He could speak, just, but other than that he spent most of his time just staring at the TV screen. You weren't certain whether he was actually paying attention to what was going on on the show, but it was a distraction from reality and it seemed to keep him entertained.
"You hungry yet?" you had started one afternoon, moving into the room with a bright smile and a glass of water. At first, when Bucky didn't respond, you assumed he'd fallen asleep. He slept a lot now, and was still always tired when he was awake.
"Bucky?" No response. You placed the glass down on the bedside table, your smile faltering as you climbed onto the bed beside him, nudging his shoulder. "Hey Buck? Wake up, it's lunch time."
You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you pressed your fingers to his neck, waiting for some sort of response, anything that would correct your suspicions. You sat like that for a few moments, completely silent, just staring at your husbands body in the hopes that suddenly he would sit up and tease you that this had all just been an act. He would be fine and you would live your lives together until you were both old and wrinkly.
Sniffling away the tears, you reached for your phone, and dialled Steve's number, waiting as it rang.
"Hello?" You remained silent as you attempted to figure out the right way to tell him. "Y/N?"
"Bucky's gone," you started, swallowing around the lump in your throat. "I don't know what to do."
*Time Skip*
It turned out, Tony was good for more than organising weddings. He'd sat with you through the whole funeral planning process, helping you through each and every little detail. You'd been thankful for the company, more than anything. Being at home was lonely now, and you felt like you were rattling around the flat now that you didn't have anyone to share it with. You hadn't been able to sleep in your own bed since you had found Bucky, electing to just sleep on the sofa whenever you were tired. Not that you slept all the often.
You sat around Tony's kitchen island now, flipping through a brochure of urns. How were you supposed to choose a pretty jar to keep your husband in? It wasn't normal, especially not at your age.
"Do you think he would'a liked this one?" you started, jabbing your finger at one of the pictures.
Tony glanced over from his spot at the coffee machine, tilting his head to the side. "It's a little..." he paused, trying to come up with the right words to use. "Bright?"
You nodded. He was right. The faux-marble design was perfect white and would have looked completely out of place in the home you and Bucky had made for yourselves. "Yeah."
"You don't have to do that right this minute," he told you, bringing a mug over to the table and pushing it towards you. You wrinkled up your nose as the harsh sent of coffee hit you, and moved to push it back towards him.
"God, that stinks," you uttered, flipping another page.
"You love coffee," he murmured, brow furrowing at your response. "Don't you?"
You shrugged slightly. "Yeah, but it's like my nose changed its mind recently."
"Anything else you normally eat thats been messing with you?"
You glanced up at him, your own brow furrowing to match his. "I walked past the lush store the other day and almost barfed at the smell."
Tony's face softened slightly as he looked at you. "Could you be-"
"Don't, Tony," you interrupted. "I'm so tired, I just can't have this conversation right now."
He nodded slightly. "I think you need to go to the doctors, just to be sure."
"I don't need to," you told him, swallowing as you returned your gaze to the page in front of you. "I already took a test."
"What did it say?"
"I'm going to have a baby."
Please consider supporting me for just £3 using Ko-Fi. The link is available on my profile page. If you have any questions about Ko-Fi please feel free to private message me. Thank you. L x