dysmorphics | it's you and me up against the world, it's you and me

When Steph grabbed Bucky and buried her face in his neck, Bucky didn't hesitate before wrapping his arms tightly around her, holding her close. "Then I'm not going anywhere." It was that simple. If she wanted him there, Bucky would stay. As always, he wanted to be where Steph was. It was as simple as that, even if it was also as complicated as hell at the same time.

"I know you are, Steph. But I'm here, alright?" Bucky tried to keep his voice low and comforting as he hugged her close, one hand coming up to stroke her hair. "I'll stay as long as you want me to."

He'd been without Steph for too goddamn long and, even if the one in his arms had so many different experiences from the one he'd last seen, and even if she had absolutely screwed up, she was still his best friend if nothing else.

And if Bucky stopped to think about it? If their situations were reversed, he couldn't be sure he wouldn't have done the same thing. Risking absolutely everything to save Steph.

"I never wanted to leave." Steph was sobbing now, completely undone the moment Bucky wrapped his arms around her. "But they were sending me back, and I thought... I thought... how could I not try, after everything they did to you?"

He wasn't the Bucky who had suffered in HYDRA's hands — her meddling had been to ensure that — but it was an apology to him too.

"And how could you ever love me, when I caused you all that suffering? I should never have tried to follow you to the front. I should have just stayed home and and waited." Her life had been about waiting — waiting to get better, waiting to die, waiting to be loved, waiting for things to change. She should've taken the hint.

Bucky only pulled back enough to sit down in the closest chair--the one their coats were draped over the back of--and then urged Steph down into his lap, where he once more wrapped his arms tightly around her. The way the two of them fit together with her curled up in his lap was entirely different from how it had been when Steph was small, but that didn't matter. Bigger or not, she was Steph and she was crying, so Bucky was going to hold her.

"How could I not love you?" Bucky asked, his voice low but steady, doing his best to calm her down by speaking the truth. "I bet there's not a timeline out there where I don't love you, Steph." But it also sounded like there might not be a timeline out there where they just got to be... content from the start. From what she'd told him, if she hadn't kept saving his ass, HYDRA would have still gotten him, and then what? If she had stayed home and waited, he would have still been captured. If she hadn't been an idiot and gotten herself experimented on, how would he have ever gotten free of them?

And even if he did, would it have been worth it to be trapped in a future without her?

Edited (wrong word) 2026-01-07 19:28 (UTC)

This shouldn't feel right. His Steph was somewhere in 2023, waiting for him to tell her he loved her. (There it was again, waiting.) But she couldn't bring herself to pull away and get off from Bucky's lap, instead she even curled tighter into him, as if she was still the scrawny woman he'd said goodbye to in 1943.

"But is there one where we get to be together?" All the fight seemed to have gone out of her now. There was no longer that undercurrent of that righteous anger in her voice, just... despair. Perhaps he knew what that sounded like, having been to war and made to face impossible odds.

"There better be," Bucky started, then turned his head to press a soft kiss to her hair before letting his eyes close and just breathing in the scent of her. "Otherwise, what's the point of all this?"

He wasn't a particularly religious person. Hell, Bucky wasn't sure if he believed in much of anything, especially after all he'd seen and done in the war. But even he had to believe that somewhere there was a version of the two of them that was just... happy together. Because, as shitty as the world was, how could it only exist to keep the two of them apart and miserable? The idea of that was beyond cruel. It sounded like actual Hell.

"Maybe it's this one," Steph murmured, closing her eyes as well. She wanted to believe it, that there was still a chance that she could fix things for this Bucky, but with the universe's history of repeatedly screwed her over, she could no longer find it in her to be optimistic.

As luck would have it, a hissing sound cut through their... whatever it was they were doing. "Shit, the stew." She stumbled away and was by the stove in record time, trying to save their dinner. Fortunately, she still seemed to have that ability. She put on the finishing touches, then prepared a plate for him: roasted potatoes (seasoned), beef stew with vegetables (seasoned), leftover meatloaf prepared the Sarah Rogers way (but with seasoning), and a chocolate bar for dessert (smuggled from the future).

"Here. Sorry." Her eyes were still red-rimmed, but dinner was at least here to distract her. "Help yourself to seconds anytime." Instead of getting her own plate, she busied herself with putting away her phone and book and coat and anything else that could be put away.

Edited 2026-01-07 21:47 (UTC)

"Maybe." With the advancements he'd already found out about in the future, and the fact that this Steph didn't seem like she planned on sticking around, he doubted it though.

Bucky followed her back into the kitchen area when she took off running, but at a more normal speed. "It all looks and smells great, Steph," he told her honestly. Really, it smelled even better than her cooking back before the war, but he wasn't sure what was different about it.

He took his plate from her and set it down, expecting her to make her own plate and join him, then frowned when he saw her doing... pretty much anything but that. "You're not going to eat?"

"I am, just—" Her back turned from him, Steph raked her hands through her hair. "Just gimme a minute, okay?"

She at least didn't go anywhere. She wanted to, now embarrassed by her breakdown — and how much she had liked being touched and held and sat on his lap; did he notice? — but he'd called for her and, as she'd asked him not to go, she had to stay. She just needed to calm down and gather her wits about her.

She also needed to stop thinking about how much she'd wanted to kiss up his neck to his mouth, and ask him to stay the night too.

Finally, she took off her coat again, went to fix herself up two plates and sat down across from him. No chocolate for her, that had been her last bar, but it was fine. "Sorry. I... I don't normally cry before dinner," she joked with a weak chuckle, hoping it would ease him. "Well, dig in? I hope you like it."

"Take your time." Bucky watched Steph out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to stare, but also worried at the same time, then felt some of his tension release when she pulled her coat back off. She wasn't trying to leave anymore, and that was good. But he still didn't even remotely settle until she was settling into the other chair with her own plates.

"It's fine, Steph," he told her, his voice soft. "I get it. Tonight's been... a lot." And that was a hell of an understatement, wasn't it?

Bucky finally took a bite of his stew then, and his eyes immediately went wide. "Holy shit," he said around his mouthful of food as he looked down at it. It didn't look any different from normal stews, but it sure tasted different. Then, once he finished his bite, he added, "Steph, this is amazing."

"Right? That was my reaction too." Steph's laugh was genuine this time. "You know they call the years we grew up in The Great Depression? And the war World War 2? Awful names, but that pretty much explains why our food's so bland."

Bucky's enjoyment was contagious, and she felt a bit lighter as she ate. She stood up for a moment again, but only to grab fresh glasses for their wine; just the regular ones though, since she never expected to ever host anyone. "Dernier said this is one of the good ones," she said as she looked at the label once more. "I know where to get some really potent alcohol in the future though. You can try some when we go."

She knew just how potent Asgardian booze was because she'd drunk herself blind after Bucky had been Snapped.

The sound of Steph laugh made Bucky look back over at her with a smile on his face. God, that had always been one of his favorite sounds.

But he took the glass of wine from her and took a sip, then set it down on the table. It was fine. It was wine, that was about all he could say about it. He didn't exactly have a fancy pallet when it came to wines and whatnot. Plus, it wasn't like alcohol had done anything for him in years anyway. "What, strong enough that I'd actually be able to feel it?" he asked, one brow raising. "Cause I haven't been so much as tipsy since '43."

It was probably a good thing he couldn't get drunk, though, because Bucky would have probably fallen deep into that after getting back to New York to find Steph missing.

Edited (NOTHING TO SEE HERE) 2026-01-08 13:27 (UTC)

"Oh yeah. Knocked me out cold many nights." Steph was smiling and about to shove another spoonful of food into her mouth, but her smile didn't reach her eyes. She wasn't proud of that time. She'd turned her back on the world, on her friends, when someone was desperately needed to lead the survivors on.

The despair she felt these days was even darker than back then, though. And she was getting really, really tired of fighting it.

"Want some more? I need another plate." In this era, at least, everything was cheaper. Her cash would last her a while yet despite her voracious appetite.

If it could knock out someone with a full dose of the serum, like Steph, then Bucky would have probably leaned heavily on it. Especially when he first got back.

Alright, not only when he first got back. But at least he had an idea of where his tiny Steph was at that point, so he probably wouldn't have leaned so heavily on it anymore. Or something. Maybe.

Either way, at Steph's question, Bucky shook his head. After all those years in what was, apparently, called the Great Depression, and the years at war, Bucky still wasn't entirely used to being able to stuff himself full of food. Plus, he knew that Steph needed more than he did with her abilities.

"I'm still working on this plate," he told her with a soft grin. "It's so good, though, Steph. What's different about it?"

"You know what? I don't think I'll tell you," Steph teased before disappearing into the kitchen to refill her plate. It was hardly the biggest secret in the world, but... okay, maybe she just wanted an excuse to invite Bucky over for dinner again.

She missed him so much, and she'd been incredibly lonely over the last couple of years. The first time she went to the front, she at least had a team, and more importantly she had Bucky; this time she'd been an outsider, operating on the fringes alone. It was cold and lonely in Europe and it was cold and lonely still when she returned to New York, and maybe she could have returned to 2023 like she'd never left... but she was a coward, like she had been in the past. In fact, this meeting only happened because this Bucky forced her hand.

She didn't realize she had zoned out and was staring forlornly at the pot of stew until Bucky calling her name jolted her out of her thoughts. "I'm okay. Just..." She decided not to finish that, moving to the sink to turn on the tap then turn it off again, just to pretend she was doing something.

Frowning, Bucky got up and followed Steph. Even if the woman hadn't been his best friend, if she hadn't been someone he'd known since they were kids, it would have been obvious that something was bothering her again. It seemed it didn't matter if she was bigger or smaller than him, or if she had made some really stupid decisions in the last couple of years, Bucky didn't like to see anything bothering her.

"Hey," he started, walking up and placing a hand on her back to get her attention, and maybe get her to stop turning the water on and off. She wasn't fooling anyone with that. "What's going on in that thick skull of yours?"

Steph sighed and set down her empty plate before resting her hands on the edge of the sink. She didn't say anything for a while, not really knowing where to start or what to even tell him, but sure that Bucky wouldn't leave her alone until she caved.

Eventually, she settled with, "You ever feel like you're just a walking corpse, or a ghost, and that maybe you died a long time ago?" He fought in the war, survived it this time around. Did he feel the numbness, the soul-crushing despair, when he returned to normal life in New York and found himself without the most important person in his life?

"I don't think I remember how it feels to be alive," she admitted quietly, still refusing to turn around and look at him.

Well that was a bit of a loaded question, wasn't it? He knew it wasn't intentionally so, but still. There was no good way to answer it.

So, Bucky sighed and hesitated for a few seconds before answering honestly. "That's how I feel every day, Steph." Sure, there were people around him who talked to him, but he didn't pay them as much attention as he would have three years earlier. Hell, he'd heard some of the people at the SSR talking about how they were pretty sure Sergeant Barnes didn't know what a joke was.

He never let on to them that he heard, but that comment alone went to show just how much he'd changed over the years. Bucky was sure he'd smiled more since meeting up with Steph that afternoon than he had in a long, long time, and he hadn't even spent much of their evening smiling.

Steph finally turned to meet Bucky's eyes, her expression sad and resigned. "Me too. Since the day you fell off that train."

She could still remember the moment in vivid detail: Bucky hanging from a rail on the side of the train car, Steph straining to reach him. "Grab my hand," she begged—

Maybe that was the moment she died.

"And now you're here, and I... I feel things." She hung her head and, very quietly, said, "I miss you. I love you. And it's not fair to you."

Edited (word choice) 2026-01-08 17:39 (UTC)

Bucky sighed, and shook his head before turning Steph so she was fully facing him. "Listen to me," he said, reaching up to put a hand on her cheek. "Nothing's been fair to me since my birthday got pulled in that draft. And unless you went and rigged that, that's not your fault. Alright?"

Okay, sure, there was a lot going on in his life that Steph caused, at least for this version of him. But she sure as shit didn't cause all of it. Really, it sounded like he was absolutely fucked no matter what happened.

Maybe a good life just wasn't in the cards for him.

He didn't leave his hand on her cheek much longer, though. Instead, he pulled her into another tight hug. "I miss you, too, Steph. And I love you, too." She had to understand that by now, right?

"All I had to do was grab you and hold on," Steph said in despair. Peggy had been able to do it. Why hadn't she? "Then it was one last fight, and we'd have been home free." The plane didn't have to crash with anyone in it. Peggy hadn't. Howard fished her out of the ocean just fine — though perhaps with a little tip from a mysterious ally who happened to have just the right coordinates.

But with their luck, would they really have been home free? When Fury pulled her back into SHIELD there was always some insinuation that she was technically government property and therefore she could be deployed whenever and wherever she was needed. If she hadn't crashed in '45, where else would they have sent her? Korea? Cuba? Vietnam? Iraq and Afghanistan and Ukraine? There had been so many wars. Really, it sounded like she was absolutely fucked no matter what happened.

Maybe a good life just wasn't in the cards for her.

Did Bucky expect resistance? Or did he know Steph would, once more, deflate in his arms as if she didn't have the strength to carry him?

Then she started to sob. But not for the reason he might think, not really. "I gotta take you to her now," she said, and she'd never sounded so sad, so regretful, so defeated. "I gotta, before I do somethin' stupid and ask you to stay with me instead."

"C'mere," Bucky said with a sigh, then led Steph over to her small couch. He sat down, then tugged her down beside him, but turned so he could still wrap his arms around her.

Eyes sliding closed, he let his head rest against hers as he held her. "Why would she even want to come back?" he asked, his own voice quiet and resigned. "There she's apparently got better food, better tech. You already told me there were treatments for most of her ailments, if not all of them. And it's not like she's on her own." If nothing else, even though he'd never lived most of the other Bucky's life, he couldn't picture a world where he wouldn't jump to help her. Plus, those photos sure made it look like Steph had a lot of friends. "She's... probably better off."

"Because she loves you."

There was doubt in Steph's voice though. But it wasn't the love she doubted, no. She just came to the realization that, as this Bucky had said, there probably wasn't a single timeline in which they didn't love each other. She loved and would love him no matter what, and no matter who and when he was. So would that version of Steph, and she wasn't broken, just young and insecure. She would be good for that version of Bucky. They would find a true second chance in each other, not broken pieces to put back together, as he would with her. He would probably be better off, too.

Steph sighed softly and hugged Bucky just a little tighter. "You would let her go." It wasn't even a question.

Maybe they were more alike than he thought. Maybe he would understand why she did what she did, even if he must first hate her for it.

Bucky hesitated for a moment, thinking through his words, then released a breath and nodded. "If she wanted to stay there, yeah," he told her. "And if he's even a little like me, he'll watch out for her at the very least."

Sniffling, Bucky's arms tightened around Steph in return. "I've only ever wanted to make her happy." He knew making her healthy was beyond him, but he'd at least thought he could have made her happy. But maybe... maybe in the future she could be both?

"I wanna go with you when you go back. So I can ask her. Or at least tell her goodbye."

I've only ever wanted to make her happy. Steph had had her heart break a few times, but this time it felt physically painful, like her lungs had collapsed and she couldn't breathe, or when the Soldier was crushing her throat with those cold, metal fingers. That Bucky had given up, because of what she had done, was something to add to the list of sins she could never forgive herself for.

"We can catch up with her. Before she meets anyone and sees what the future is like. Whenever you're ready." She knew that was possible on principle, though without Bruce and his machine, could they make a jump that accurate? Her suit had been programmed with the return coordinates, both in terms of location and time, but now all she had was a date and an approximation of the hour.

Could she use the Time Stone instead? They'd thought only Strange could, because it had been in the custody of the sorcerers, but Thanos had used it without a problem. But she'd only seen it reverse what happened minutes ago, when Thanos brought Vision back only to kill him again. What if they couldn't cross the streams? Would they have to grab his Steph before yet another version of her from the future arrived to make the switch? Fuck, time travel made her head hurt.

She had to fix this. Bucky never cried, and it hurt far worse than she had ever been prepared for.

Bucky didn't want to keep harping on the fact that it should be her choice, so he didn't respond to that. Not then, at least.

Instead, he just continued to hold onto his best friend, almost like she was holding him up as much as he was holding her up, even though they were sitting on her couch. "Tell me something good that's gonna happen in the future?" he half asked, half told her. "Anything. Even if it's just something dumb, like some kind of radio program you like."

Bucky needed some sort of distraction, so he thought maybe something like that would do the trick. At least for a few minutes.

no subject

no subject

⬅️ pretend there's a shirt in that icon

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

at least it wasn't the smut tag 😂

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject