The Mimic (HE/HIM VERSION)

190

Y/n's entire world shattered around him.

He heard that crunch.

He heard that damn crunch.

Bucky fell completely limp, the gauntlet slipping from his grasp. Thanos dropped him like a child that didn't want to play with a toy anymore, hitting the ground with a dull thud. His limbs buckled and contorted in awkward ways, dropping face-first onto the debris-littered ground.

Y/n didn't want to believe it. He had only been a few feet away. He had been so close, but not close enough.

Despite every fibre of his body screaming at him to just crumble to his knees, y/n never stopped running. He had to get to Bucky. That was his only focus. He didn't even process Captain Marvel blasting Thanos and the gauntlet away. Y/n just had to get to Bucky.

He yanked out his earpiece, his stomach twisting as his lungs filled with spikes. His heart was pounding out of his chest, and the lump in his throat grew with every second that passed. He was in denial. That crunch wasn't real. It was just someone else on the earpiece. It had to be. Bucky was fine. Bucky was fine. Bucky was fine.

As soon as y/n was close enough, he slid onto her knees, the debris scraping and tearing at his skin. "Hey. Hey." He rushed out in a shaky tone, setting his hands on Bucky's cold shoulders as he rolled him onto his back. Hot tears begun to gather, his nostrils flaring as his bottom lip started to wobble. He was completely limp. He'd almost wished that he'd never rolled him over.

Now that Bucky was on his back, the damage that Thanos dealt was clear. He had been mangled by the giant. The mass amount of blood blurred all the features on his face, the only thing remotely recognisable were his eyes. Those blue eyes. Wide open and completely clouded over. His mouth hung open, jaw completely slack and dripping with sticky blood. It was just blood. So much blood.

"Hey." Y/n repeated, pulling his head onto his lap. "It's me, Buck. It's y/n." He murmured shakily, using his hands to wipe the mass amount of blood off of his face. "This isn't a funny joke, y'know..." He whispered, his voice cracking as he furiously wiped the blood away. "Thanos is gone. You don't have to pretend anymore." He tried to reason, a sad smile appearing on his face. Y/n was in complete denial.

With every wipe from y/n's hands, more and more of Bucky's skin was revealed. It wasn't a pretty sight. He was a sickly mixture of pale blues and purples, the veins across his face and neck had raised in reaction to having no oxygen, and he had severe bruises across his whole face from Thanos' brutal punches. He was barely recognisable.

"Come on, you can wake up now." Y/n practically begged, trying to stop the realisation from setting in. He tapped his cheek over and over again, his hands trembling as he pushed the super soldier's hair out of his face. "It's me-" He paused, his voice cracking. Y/n lifted one of Bucky's hands up to set on his cheek, trying to show him that he was there. "I'm right here. It's y/n." He whispered, rubbing his cheek against Bucky's cold hand. But, as soon as he let go, his hand fell straight back to the ground.

Y/n didn't want to believe it. He couldn't. He was fine. He had to be fine.

Y/n's composure begun to crumble, continuing to tap his cheek and squeeze at his limp hand. "Please, this isn't a good game. I'm not laughing, James." He scolded shakily, his voice continuing to crack and trail off. Y/n never called Bucky his real name, he didn't like it, but he didn't have a choice. "It's time to wake up now. You don't have to pretend. It's just me and you." Y/n whispered, a desperate smile appearing on his face as he looked into Bucky's eyes.

Bucky was gone. He could see it in his eyes. They were completely clouded over. No sign of life, just complete emptiness. Emptiness in the same blue eyes that y/n used to get lost in. The same blue eyes that used to light up whenever he entered the room. The same blue eyes that could tell y/n how much he loved him without Bucky even saying a word. And now they were empty. Glazed over with old tears, staring straight through y/n.

A shaky hand slowly moved from Bucky's face all the way down to his chest, slipping his hand under his mission suit to check his heartbeat, far too terrified to even touch his neck. There wasn't a heartbeat.

Bucky was dead. Bucky was dead before he was even able to reach him.

It hit y/n like a train and shattered his heart into a million pieces.

He'd already known as soon as he heard the crunch, but he didn't want to accept it. He didn't want to accept the fact that the love of his life was gone. Bucky was gone. And there was nothing he could do about it. There was no way of saving him. No way of waking him back up.

James Buchanan Barnes was dead.

Y/n screamed.

It was a grief-stricken, heartbroken, agonising scream.

It caused the whole battlefield to freeze, everyone turning their attention toward the location of the noise. A shockwave of energy erupted from y/n's chest at the same time, knocking many to their feet. The team knew what had just happened. They could tell. That wasn't a happy scream, or one full of anger. That was mourning. Pure and thick grief.

Y/n hunched himself over Bucky, cradling him in his arms. He had completely crumbled. Uncontrollable sobs caused his entire body to heave and shake, holding the love of his life as close to him as he possibly could. No injury could hurt him as much as this. Everything else felt numb, completely irrelevant. All he could think about was Bucky, and the fact that he'd never be able to get him back.

Peter was the first and only person to approach y/n.

He had tears in his eyes, taking shaky breaths as he set a careful hand on his shoulder. Peter was in shock, unable to process everything that had just happened. All he wanted to do was comfort y/n. He was like a big brother to him, so was Bucky, and now he was gone. Peter had to be there for him. "Y/n I-"

Y/n suddenly slapped Peter's hand away, glaring up at him with grief-fuelled anger. "No, Peter. No." He snapped, tears continuing to pour. "This is your fault." Y/n accused, his voice quiet but slowly beginning to pick up. "You handed him the gauntlet. You were supposed to defend him! You were supposed to protect him!" Y/n yelled, practically screaming in the poor kid's face. "You failed, and now-" He paused, gasping in a shaky breath. "And now Bucky is dead. Stay the fuck away from me." Y/n snapped, using an energy orb to blast Peter away before he could get any reaction from him.

It wasn't fair, and it wasn't right to lash out at the poor kid. It wasn't his fault. But y/n was blinded by grief, desperate to search for someone to blame. Someone to scream at.

Wanda soon managed to make her way over, but instead of getting any closer, she simply created a forcefield around Bucky and y/n. A forcefield to allow the mourning man some space.

Y/n didn't want anyone to talk to him. He didn't want anyone to hold him. The only person that he ever wanted that from was Bucky, and he was gone.

Gone forever, all because of a stupid gauntlet.