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

James Buchanan Barnes couldn't believe he was walking through New York in the next century. Sure, Bucky was aware that his wife had come to the past from that future, but it was still crazy to believe that he was actually there.

His eyes were wide as he walked with Steph ~~Rogers~~ Barnes down the busy sidewalk, taking in everything from storefronts to cars to even just the clothes people were wearing. Sure, he was nearly eighty years into the future, but things had changed so much since his time. There had even been a few times where Bucky had gotten distracted by one thing or another in a window display, and Steph had to backtrack a little to get him to start walking again. Which was good, because they were each carrying a suitcase filled with things from the past, with a bonus circular bag in Steph's hand as well, but none of it was actually for them.

One thing that didn't change about New York? No one paid the two of them any mind as they walked down the sidewalk. They were just two generic pedestrians in the late evening sea of people.

Eventually, the pair reached a fairly nice apartment building. Once they were inside and making their way up in the elevator, Bucky couldn't help smirking a bit as he looked at her. "Gotta say, this building's a hell of a lot better than the last one I found you living in on your own."

Once they reached the apartment door, Bucky wasn't even thinking about the fact that Steph should probably knock or something. Really, he just sort of wanted to put the damn suitcase down, so he said nothing as she unlocked the door and let the pair of them in.

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While those two were making their way through the city, a much, much older James Buchanan Barnes was in bed with his tiny girlfriend, a single dim lamp in the bedroom the only light on in their apartment. He was kissing and biting along her neck and shoulder, his natural hand under the sexy little nightie she had on, panties pushed aside as he worked at her, two fingers in her pussy and his thumb rubbing at her clit. The woman turned him on like no one else, and he was the one who groaned as her nails scraped over his bare back yet again, surely leaving more of the scratches she gave him so often.

But then, Bucky heard something. Brow furrowed, his head came up and his hand stilled as he looked towards the door, listening more closely. It sounded like a key hitting the lock, but no one but them should even have a key to their place.

"Stay here, sweetheart," he said, his voice low as he pulled away from Steph. "I heard something."

As he stood up from the bed and started towards the door, not bothering to pull any pants over those boxer briefs of his, he heard the front door open. Bucky didn't hesitate then, just stalked quickly towards the door. He decided not to turn the lights on along the way, having the layout of the apartment memorized and being able to see a bit better in the dark than the average person, so he thought leaving them off might give him a bit of a leg up.

"Wrong fucking apartment," he said as he approached the dark outlines of the people in the doorway, immediately knocking one of the pair aside before throwing a punch towards the other one.

Edited (extra "the" hidden in this mess) 2026-01-25 08:35 (UTC)

Stephanie Grace Rogers had been having a wonderful time. The future was great. The food was good, there were so many new technological marvels, and she could now see better and in color. More importantly, she had been reunited with her best friend and the love of her life, and they lived together in a nice little apartment like an actual couple.

She was having a particularly wonderful time that night as Bucky worked her up toward her first orgasm, his hand already slick with her wetness as she humped and ground against him. Her tiny frame did not deter her from being such a wild thing in bed — something that had surprised her at first, but he was perfectly happy with practically everything and anything she did that it didn't take long for her to stop second guessing herself and just do whatever she felt like doing. Like leave claw marks on his back, or let herself get photographed while covered in his cum. That was the plan again tonight, though she'd also surprised him with a sexy little red nightie and matching lace panties to get drenched in.

She was already worked up enough that she let out a whine by the time he had to pull away. She didn't really try to stop him though. She knew his history well by now, and she understood that he had enemies. But she was no Captain America, that fate had never become hers, so the best thing she could do was do what she was told and stay out of his way.

She was doing fine with that until she heard a clang from beyond the bedroom. If she heard it, then it had to be loud and something was going on, since her hearing was pretty much as shit as her eyesight but without any technological intervention, or at least not yet. Concerned now, she bolted upright and slipped out of the bed, grabbing her glasses from the nightstand. (She hated how they got in the way of kissing and whatever else so she didn't wear them whenever they made out or had sex.)

"Darling?" she called out as she stepped out of the room and flipped on the nearest switch. Right as she did, the weird paperweight from the kitchen counter flew right past her. Startled, she swore and stepped back, then looked around to see where it went.

"Holy shit."

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Minutes earlier, a much, much older Stephanie Grace Rogers — who now went by Gracie Barnes, for the most part — hurried into her old apartment after making the strangest walk through New York in years. It wasn't Bucky's gawking and fascination with the next century that weirded her out; it was how alien it all felt to her after having spent the last four or so years back in the 40s. Even if she hadn't gotten married and decided to settle down in the past, she would've felt the same: that she didn't belong here anymore.

That was what distracted her. Otherwise she would've thought to knock, because this apartment wasn't hers anymore. She just wanted some peace and quiet and a chance to collect herself.

Instead, she suddenly found herself in the middle of a fight. Having turned to help Bucky up, she lifted the shield — still in its bag — just in time to deflect a powerful blow. The jolt through her system was a wake-up call, priming her body for combat. Her effectiveness was impeded by a few factors, however. First, she realized who she was fighting, and she didn't want to hurt him. Second, she remembered where they were, and she didn't want to destroy anything. Third, Bucky had of course joined the fray, and despite their shared histories, they had never actually fought together.

By the time the lights came on, Bucky had the shield, and she'd called Mjolnir to her hand because Bucky — the Bucky of this timeline, the one she grew up with — had managed to grab her in a headlock.

And gaping at them was little Stephanie, hair mussed and wearing a nightie.

Fuck.

When the light flicked on, Bucky didn't immediately stop. He was still deep enough in protect Steph mode that he hardly even registered the comically large hammer flying across the room, or the impact he felt on the side of his head. A fist, maybe? Bucky didn't have time to figure it out. Instead, he just tightened the hold he had on the first person.

It wasn't until he saw Steph watching wide-eyed from her place by the light switch that his focus wavered just slightly, and that mixed with a blur of red, white, and blue smacking hard into the side of his head was enough to make Bucky loosen his grip just slightly. The one that hit him might not seem to be as strong as the other, but it was still enough to make Bucky see stars for just a second.

During that second, the stronger one slipped out of his grip, stepped away, and turned around so Bucky could finally see who he was fighting. His own eyes probably got wider than his girlfriend's were. "Steph?" he asked, most of the fight leaving him immediately.

Then he looked over at the other person just to see... himself? But definitely not the way he was now. The man who looked like him was younger, with shorter hair and it looked like the circles around his eyes weren't quite so dark.

Bucky moved out of the middle of the group and put his back to Steph--the small Steph watching from a few feet away, his Steph--before taking a couple of backward steps closer to her, clearly still ready to protect her if he needed to. "The hell is going on?" he asked, eyes bouncing between the Steph that left and the Bucky she brought back with her.

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Suddenly seeing tiny Steph standing there in a little red number was almost enough to distract the Bucky of the past, but not quite. He had to get the big guy off his wife, after all. That's why he smacked him a couple of times in the head. Once with a fist, the second time with the shield that he'd somehow ended up with and unbagged in the scuffle.

When the other Bucky moved away, his focus went back to the tiny Steph for a moment before realizing exactly how she was dressed. "Oh," he said, eyes widening slightly before turning to his wife. He didn't need to be looking at her in lingerie. "You alright?" One hand came up to touch gently at her neck, making sure there was no real damage before looking back at their attacker with a bit of a glare.

He hadn't been expecting to find the pair of them in the middle of things, but considering how he and his wife were? They should have expected it, really. But with how the future Bucky was standing there in just his underwear, the past Bucky could see differences beyond just the hair. The way that black metal connected to his shoulder, the scarring around it, even the man's size and the way he held himself were different than his own. He was definitely taller and more muscular, but the way he stood seemed more... defensive? That could have just been because of the fight, though.

Edited (broken html) 2026-02-11 09:36 (UTC)

"I guess I deserved that," Steph said as she swiped at her nose with the back of her free hand. There was no blood, but something had connected in the scuffle. Her neck ached too, the sensation giving her an awful sense of deja vu, though it was quickly obliterated by Bucky's gentle touch. She stepped back to be at his side, mirroring how the other pair also moved closer together.

They had to be a strange sight. Bucky with both arms intact, holding the shield as if he was Captain America; Steph looking like she'd stepped out of a Lady Liberty poster with her 40s hair and her 40s dress. She could see the wheels in her counterpart's head turning, trying to figure out what had changed from the story she knew.

"Hey, Buck. Steph. We just wanted to talk." It clearly wasn't the best time though, given their counterparts' state of, well, undress. It wasn't at all surprising, considering how she and Bucky were; she was more embarrassed that it hadn't occurred to her to knock or call ahead. "We'll, um, come back in the morning. If you're amenable to that."

Tiny Steph, meanwhile, only looked confused, then worried. No embarrassment there whatsoever at being seen in a nightie, though she was doing everything not to meet her best friend's eyes. She instead focused on the suitcases the others brought in, while her hands gripped her Bucky's flesh arm — tight, protective, but also with a silent plea: don't take him away from me.

The older Bucky sighed and shook his head, moving his arm so he could take Steph's small hands in his own large one, a silent assurance that he was with her. But his eyes didn't leave the other two. "No, you're already here. We'll go change." The mood had been completely wrecked, after all. It wasn't like they'd be able to just go back to what they were doing.

And for Bucky, at least, the idea of going to sleep after something like that was pretty much impossible.

So, with a gentle tug at Steph's hands, he turned and led her back to their bedroom.

When he turned around, the younger Bucky didn't miss the claw marks all over his back. He didn't say anything about them, though. Just perked his own brow at the sight of them before sliding the shield back into its bag, then turned to look around the futuristic apartment once they were gone. They were barely inside the door, but he could already see several things that he had no idea what they were for.

Steph let Bucky lead her back into their bedroom, where she quietly put on one of his shirts. It was probably not appropriate for any sort of meeting, but they were in their apartment, weren't they? Or perhaps she just felt the need to assert herself, that all this was hers now, that they couldn't just barge in and take any of it away.

She watched his face as they got dressed, searching for hints about how he was feeling. They'd never really talked about it — she still thought it was too soon to breach the subject — but she had been there, in the aftermath of Cap's departure. He had been mad, and hurt. Maybe he still was.

She pulled her hair up into a quick ponytail, then moved closer to touch his arm. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? You're stuck with me." He might not want to talk about his feelings, but she'd already squandered her chance once and she wasn't keen on doing it again.

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Steph noticed the claw marks too, which made her blush a little more. Thankfully Bucky said nothing to it and just put the shield away. She reached over to momentarily place Mjolnir on the nearest flat surface — which happened to be the top of the suitcase he had lugged in — while she fixed her hair as it had gotten mussed from the skirmish.

"He hates me," she said with a sigh. She'd been expecting it, but it still stung. "Her, too. I know that look." Even when she hadn't been in the position to do any protecting, she'd been awfully protective of him in the way people in love with their best friends were.

Bucky was frowning as he picked up and pulled on a random shirt and a pair of his lounge pants, then he sat on the foot of their bed and tugged Steph over to stand between his knees. He wrapped his arms around her waist loosely as he looked up at her. "I don't know why they're here, but you're not going anywhere." As long as she wanted to stay with him, at least.

He brought his natural hand up to rest on her cheek, letting his thumb drift over her cheekbone as he looked at her. "I'm with you, Steph. Not her. I love you."

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"We knew seeing them wasn't gonna be a cakewalk, sweetheart," Bucky told his wife with his own frown. While he had forgiven Steph for taking the smaller version of her away, making him live for over a year not sure if she was alive or dead. He had been so glad to have any version of her back in his life that his forgiveness came easy, but that didn't mean the older version of him had forgiven her for making the choice to leave in the first place.

"Talk to him. You guys can probably come to some sort of an understanding."

Trying to distract her a bit, Bucky walked over to what looked like a big black rectangle on the wall. He probably would have thought it was some sort of mirror, but it was dull and, well, black. "Tell me about some of this stuff?"

That was all Steph needed to hear. She threw her arms around Bucky and hugged him as tightly as her small frame would allow, all while trying not to cry. "I love you, too. I'm with you, not him."

Oh, there was no doubt she loved that Bucky who just arrived. He was the one she had grown up with, after all. But things had long since changed. Timelines split, and they had become different people. It was confusing, sure. But her feelings weren't. She knew who she loved and wanted to be with now.

Steph wasn't sure who initiated the kiss. They probably reached for each other at the same time. It didn't matter, and she took her time, kissing Bucky nice and slow. Let them wait.

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"That's a TV." Steph was grateful for the distraction, as she had already begun catastrophizing how this visit could go all wrong. It wasn't like she didn't have a track record for fucking things up. In fact, a part of her was surprised they made it to the future in one piece; Bucky always seemed to get in some sort of trouble when she was around.

Well, he did just get shoved or punched by his future counterpart, so she wasn't entirely wrong to think they wouldn't get here unscathed.

She slipped an arm around his and rested her head on his shoulder as she told him about the TV, and whatever else he ended up pointing out. She had thought to show him the pictures she'd had in the living room, but some of them had been replaced, or at least tucked away. Most of the pictures were of the happy couple now, Steph in a ponytail and glasses and clearly healthy and happy.

She gave her husband a sideways glance. "You ready to talk to her?"

Bucky kissed her back for a long moment, as much to assure himself as her. It didn't matter what the others were there for; nothing was going to come between the two of them.

Eventually, he pulled back slightly. "You ready to go see what the hell they're here for? And why they brought luggage? Maybe we'll even tell them you're not going anywhere," he teased a bit before running his thumb over her lip, even if he meant it to his very core. They weren't taking her back. She was staying with him. "Get your slippers, we don't need your feet to get too cold."

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Bucky nodded along as Steph explained various things in the room, making some mental notes. He might have to see about giving Stark an idea or two when they got back to their time.

He noticed the photos as he looked around, too, of course. Even took note of how, in most of them, Bucky was looking at tiny Steph like she hung the moon. Good. She deserved it. Out of the four of them, he was fairly certain she was the only one of them who didn't have as much trauma and baggage weighing her down.

When his wife's head landed on his shoulder, however, he turned his own so he could press a kiss to her forehead. "Ready as I'll ever be," he told her simply, wrapping his own arm around her waist in return.

Steph fetched her slippers. Then, with her tiny hand encased in Bucky's large one, they returned to the living room to see what their guests wanted.

She was both surprised and not to find their counterparts standing so closely together. The surprise mostly stemmed from how small Cap seemed, compared to the photos and videos Steph had seen of her. No, not her stature; the serum had even made her taller than the younger Bucky. But she looked almost ordinary, and, somehow... defeated.

That made her think back to the journals and sketchpads she'd found. She read them all, of course — she even tried to read Bucky's spooky red book, which she'd learned, thanks to the Google, was written in Russian — in the hope of understanding how this version of her got the dumb idea to leave. She still didn't entirely get it, but her heart ached for Cap nonetheless.

Which was why she was the first to offer, "Hi. Can I get you two anything to drink?" As long as neither of them tried to separate her and Bucky, they were going to be fine. Besides, she should probably pull her best friend aside and tell him she wasn't going anywhere, and give Bucky and his best friend some space to talk.

When the other two came back into the room, the younger Bucky gave his wife's waist a squeeze before pulling away to face his best friend. "Why don't I give you a hand?" he offered simply before following her to the kitchen. "You can show me some of this fancy tech you've got in the next century."

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That left the older two standing in the living room.

Bucky loved the woman standing across the room, but she had hurt him something awful. That, mixed with the fact that he wasn't sure why the two of them were there, had Bucky on the defensive. Crossing his arms, he leaned back against the wall as he watched her carefully.

"Looks like you found a whole Bucky," he said without thinking, then winced at his own words. Bucky wasn't used to being harsh with Steph. It didn't come naturally to him and he didn't like it, but at the same time he meant them, mean as they were.

Steph had been about to apologize. She'd thought long and hard about what to say, and rehearsed the words in her head over and over since they'd decided to make this trip. Bucky threw a wrench into all that, though. And while she expected him to be angry, she didn't think he would ever be so mean and thoughtless. For a moment she just stood there like he'd physically struck her, hurt written across her face. Maybe it would've been better if he did hit her.

"Fuck you," she eventually managed, her voice soft and shaking. "I did not—" Her throat felt like closing up on her as she furiously blinked back her tears. "I did not live through the fucking war all over again for you to just say that. You don't know shit."

She held her hands against her stomach in an attempt to keep it all in — her own anger, her pain, her despair. Her left hand was balled into a fist and her right covered it, fingers desperately feeling for her wedding ring, if only to remind herself that there was one person in the universe who thought she mattered enough to ask her to stay.

Groaning, Bucky reached up and pushed his hair out of his face. It was almost like he deflated as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, I don't know shit," he agreed.

Walking over, Bucky dropped onto the couch and sat hunched forward, eyes on the ground, and his elbows resting on his knees. "Steph, I don't know what I woulda done if you hadn't sent her here. I get you had five years to get used to me not being around, but for me it was literal days after we met up in Wakanda."

Shaking his head, Bucky decided just to lay it all out there. "I'm guessing by now you know I've always been in love with you, but even if it wasn't about that, my best friend--the only person on this planet that has any idea about what I've been through--took off right when I was starting to feel like a fucking person again. And it seemed like she did it to make a less broken version of me."

Steph had been prepared to stay angry and put up a fight, but when Bucky practically deflated, so did she. She sank into the couch next to him. A conciliatory distance — far enough to not invade his space, but close enough that he could reach out and grip the hands on her lap just fine, or even scoot a little closer for their knees to touch. An apology and an olive branch, but this time it was his call to make.

"I'm sorry," she began. "I don't know shit either."

She sighed. If he was laying it all out there, perhaps she should, too. "I thought you were better off without me. All I ever seemed to bring you was trouble or pain, and I... I didn't think you really wanted me around." She had felt that long before Wakanda, when he believed he was a danger to everyone. She felt that during the war, when he berated her for being the government's science experiment and coming out to the front. She felt that when he went out on dates while she mended his clothes and scoured the shops for the books he liked.

"So when they assigned me to the Stones mission, I thought... I thought I could finally do right by you and get outta your hair." She hadn't meant to come back from it even if she hadn't fucked things up, just watching over the timeline like some sad old hermit and making sure HYDRA never reared its ugly heads again. "I watched you die twice, Buck. Watched you nearly get killed many times more. Saw what HYDRA did to you. None of which would've happened if you didn't stick around for me."

Her husband had insisted none of it had been her fault, but the guilt remained anyway.

"I had to try. I love you too much not to." Love, not loved; she would always love him, that she knew at least. "What was the point of having all this... power... if I couldn't save the one who mattered? Might as well crash a plane with bombs into the ice and end it all."

Bucky sat quietly as she spoke, listening and trying to understand. But all her decisions seemed to be based on assumptions about him and how he felt, and it seemed like they were all wrong.

"The only times I didn't want you around were times when being around meant you were in danger. I wanted you safe, not around me when I could snap at any time, or fighting in wars or battles or any of that shit." Shaking his head, Bucky leaned back so he was slouched against the back of the couch. "I didn't want you out of my hair. I wanted you out of danger."

He actually turned his head to look at her for the next part. "Do you not realize that shit was going to happen to me anyway? HYDRA already had me once. If you hadn't pulled me out of there they would have always had me. They were sending letters back to the States, not putting together a rescue mission, Steph." Bucky paused for a moment, hoping that might sink into her thick skull. "And if I was still alive by the time that giant grape got here, I still woulda been blipped. But I still would have been the Winter Soldier anyway, because the only thing that pulled me out of their mind control was your dumb ass."

They really were the same person. Even if their lives had taken different turns, Steph had gotten the same earful from both versions of Bucky. The thought made her smile through the tears she hadn't been able to stop from falling, even as she admitted to her hubris, "I thought I could find a way anyway. It couldn't have been harder than bringing back half the universe."

It was. She actually hated the implication that there were just things you couldn't change, that maybe all the shit that they had been through was preordained. It still worried her most nights. That even after everything she'd done and the precautions she had taken and the rules she'd broken, HYDRA would still take Bucky away from her.

She sighed, then leaned back too and closed her eyes. "I really am sorry, Buck." She could blame him for not speaking up and letting her make all the wrong assumptions and therefore all the wrong decisions, but it wouldn't be fair. He wasn't responsible for her dumbassery. "I don't expect you to forgive me for fucking everything up so badly, but I just wanted you to know that. And that I've always loved you, even if I thought you didn't feel the same."

That was all she had come for. And to say goodbye, in a way, though she wouldn't be entirely gone until after the trial.

Bucky hesitated for a moment before reaching out and placing a hand on Steph's shoulder. "I know," he started, his voice quiet. "You're a lot of things, but you're not cruel. You thought you were doing the right thing." She always thought she was doing the right thing, even when she was doing stupid things.

"I'll get past it eventually. She helps, but it still felt like I got abandoned for something better when I just needed my best friend. You were the one with all the friends, Steph. I didn't have anybody else."

He looked towards the kitchen where the younger versions of them were. Bucky couldn't see them, but knowing she was nearby helped. "I've always been in love with you, you know. I never said anything cause I didn't think you felt the same. At least you and him seem to have worked that out," he looked back at her with a small, tired smile. "Like she and I have."

"I would never—" Steph had already been on the verge of breaking down when Bucky touched her shoulder, but learning that he felt abandoned for something better was the straw that broke the camel's back. She barely heard what he said next as she started sobbing, loud and ugly, hunching forward on the couch with her face buried in her hands.

"How... how could you think that?" She didn't really expect an answer to that though, already spiraling at the damage she'd done. My fault, my fault, my fault, everything is my fucking fault—

All those years, all her efforts, attempting the impossible and going through hell and back, and for what? Nothing. She tried to do something good, but all it did was fuck everyone else up. What was the point?

She stood up suddenly. "S-Sorry, I—" She couldn't breathe. She needed to leave.

Shit. It was like every time he tried to explain a little he kept making it worse. Because sure, he was mad at her. But he didn't want her hurting, and he didn't want her in tears.

He frowned as he stood and circled around so he was standing in front of her, then wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. "I know that's not what you meant, Steph. Logically, I know that, and she reminds me a lot, too."

But Bucky still saw himself as a broken person most of the time, but he was at least trying to be better. Maybe he was selfish on top of that, though, because he couldn't help thinking that going and making life better for another Bucky sure didn't help him any. And he sure as hell needed help.

Steph wasn't trying to shut Bucky out or invalidate his feelings or make the situation about her or anything. She just happened to be broken, too. It hadn't been all that long since that night she had come so close to unraveling, saved only by another Bucky's selfish plea, and it wasn't like she believed in therapy.

"What do you want me to do, Buck?" She didn't push him away, but she didn't hug him back either. It was already taking every ounce of her strength and willpower to keep herself together. "I would've stayed if I'd known that was what you wanted. But it's too late for that now. I fucked up. And I don't wanna fuck up anything else."

She still had the Time Stone. She could undo it all... but that wasn't her decision to make. That stupid thing was what even brought about this mess in the first place.

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Steph had finished giving Bucky a tour of the kitchen and was just making him a cup of hot chocolate by way of a sachet of instant cocoa and boiling water in the microwave. She was wondering how her Bucky was doing, but with her poor hearing eavesdropping wasn't an option.

She kept glancing at his left arm as she stirred his drink, which also meant his wedding ring did not go unnoticed. She was happy for him, but more than that, she was relieved that he wasn't going to ask her to come back with him to their time. Or was he?

"So, um. How are you?"

"I want you to hug me back," he told her simply, letting his chin rest on her shoulder while he continued to not let her go. "What's done is done, alright? It sucked, but I don't know. Guess it worked out. I got her, and it looked like you got him?" Bucky was pretty sure they were together, at least, if only based on the way they had their arms around each other when he and Steph came back from getting changed.

But that made him think of something. "How'd he take you switching places with her, anyway? Doesn't seem like he stayed too mad."

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The younger Bucky, meanwhile, had been fascinated by the microwave. And the dishwasher. The ice maker. All of it. Hell, even the idea of instant hot chocolate was novel to him. He'd only ever had it when his mom made it on the stovetop, and even then it was only an occasional treat.

Leaning against the opposite counter, legs crossed at his ankles, he watched as she fixed up the mug, moving around the kitchen like it was her own. Which, he supposed it was.

For some reason her question surprised him, though. It wasn't a deep question, most people would think it was really surface level, but technically they hadn't seen each other since the night before he left for war. So, he actually thought about it for a moment before answering with, "I'm... I'm good now. Had a few rough years, but the war's over and things are alright for now." Nevermind a chunk of the rough years were because he didn't know where she was. He could leave that part out.

"What about you? You like it here?"

Steph hesitated, but eventually she brought her arms up to hug Bucky back. Once she did, though, the hug immediately tightened and she started crying again. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "I was wrong. I was wrong. And so, so stupid."

It hadn't been all that long for him, but she'd been gone for five, maybe even six years. Most of that she'd spent alone, returning the Stones across the universe and keeping an eye out for the other Bucky from a distance. The isolation, the loneliness, it had been too much even for her, and though she'd recently found some measure of peace, she still missed her best friend.

They could talk about their relationships later. Right now she just wanted to disappear in his arms and remember what it was like before the war — before she — fucked things up.

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Meanwhile, it hadn't been all that long for the younger Steph since she'd seen this Bucky last. Being in love with him had made their days apart feel longer, but then she was in the future, and things progressed like lightning. She still loved him, but it was different now.

"Yeah, I... I'm good, too." She removed her glasses and offered them for him to examine. She pointed to the clip ons. "Those let me see color properly, it's so cool. I didn't know what blue really looked like until he got me those, or how pretty his — your — eyes are."

She sobered after a moment. "I'm glad you made it outta the war." Cap's idea might've been dumb, but Steph was no longer entirely opposed now that she had a better understanding of the alternative. Let him live. Let him love. She wanted that for him, too.

Bucky took the glasses from Steph and examined them with a small grin on his face. To him, they just looked like they had a slight tint to them, but if they could make her see color properly, they might as well be magic. "She told me medicine and everything was better in the future, but they can even fix this?" his smile widened as he handed the glasses back to her.

His grin softened a bit at the mention of the war, though. "Yeah. Me, too. I, uh. I didn't know until well after I got home that it was cause she was looking out for me. I just hate how she had to go about it." Bucky had definitely given his wife an earful about leaving the other one behind the way she had, because he knew how he would have felt. But, he was still selfish enough to keep her for himself.

"Yeah," Steph answered, still sounding impressed even if it had been a while since she got her glasses. "He's taking me to a bunch of other doctors too. If they can't fix something they can give me something to manage it. Oh!"

Remembering her inhaler, she patted herself for it, but because she hadn't bothered to put on shorts, she just rummaged around the kitchen for the spare Bucky had stashed in one of the drawers. An inhaler wasn't the only spare around though, but she was too excited to show her best friend the modern marvel that it had slipped her mind she'd unearthed several packets of condoms on the counter too.

"So much better than the cigs," she told him as she produced the inhaler. "Could you believe how backwards things were? The cigs were making my asthma worse."

As he examined the inhaler, she prepared some glasses of cold water for the lot of them. So far there hadn't been any more fighting — Bucky would've left the room so fast, she'd figured — so it was more likely there was crying instead and their counterparts were going to need some water. "She's been through a really rough time," she found herself saying, surprising herself that she was coming to Cap's defense despite her own anger at the dumb way she'd gone about the whole redemption mission. "And she blames herself for a lot of things. I... do you want her stuff? I have her journals and sketchpads in the art room."

Bucky smiled at Steph's excitement as she rummaged around, not particularly bothered by the condoms. He and his Steph had protection stashed all over their own apartment, too, so he got it. But when she held out the little device he took it and looked it over closely. "This little thing helps with your asthma that much?" he asked, perking a brow as he handed it back to her. "See, that's the sorta thing I wouldn't mind smuggling back to get Howard to try to recreate. Could help a lotta people." Plus, it was clear that things that happened in his time didn't effect her future.

"She'd probably like those, yeah," he answered, holding the inhaler back out to his friend. Just because he'd like to take one with him didn't mean he'd steal hers from her. "We actually brought a bunch of your stuff with us. That's most of what's in the suitcases. Becca went and got everything she could after you went missing, just in case." It had been partly in hopes of Steph showing back up, and partly because she knew Bucky would want it if she didn't.

deciding which bucky to represent with the icon was not easy lol

good pick though 😌

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