Bucky's POV
After "round 2" Steve decided to prepare breakfast. The smell of bacon, eggs, and toast filled the apartment, making me even hungrier. While Steve was hard at work in the kitchen, I was lounging around the living room. On the mantle of a fireplace Tony had insisted be put in the apartment, (to "set the mood," as he said) there were pictures of Steve and I from the 40s. Every time I looked at the mantle, I felt horrid, because I had no recollection of any of the memories displayed. I always felt bad asking Steve about them too, because even though he knew I couldn't remember most of their memories, I never liked to admit it. I just wanted to pretend nothing had changed since then, though in reality, everything had.
A few minutes passed with me trying to remember anything he could about the backstory of those pictures, with no success, when Steve finally called me for breakfast. I practically leapt off the couch and almost fell into Steve while rounding a corner. "Woah, Buck! If you were that hungry, you should have told me so!" Steve said with a chuckle. I blushed, even though hunger wasn't the reason for the mad dash. I just couldn't wait to get away from those haunting memories Steve and I supposedly had together.
The meal was set up "take what you want" style, so I loaded heaps of eggs and 6 pieces of bacon onto my plate. My hunger had increased dramatically just since we sat down.
I dove into the feast eagerly, and after a couple pieces of bacon, and half of the eggs, I was stuffed to the brim. 4 pieces of bacon still remained on my plate.
"Guess someone got a little over zealous with the food this mornin', Buck?" Steve said with a smirk. I gave him a rueful grin, and walked around the table and sat in his lap. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me softly on the cheek. I responded by pressing my mouth against his, and raking my hands (both real, and metal) through his hair. He kissed me back, and softly bit my bottom lip. I was so in love with Steve, and our relationship meant the world to me. "I love you, Steve." I whispered. "I've loved you since forever."
He pulled away from me. His blue eyes were watering with tears threatening to fall.
"Bucky, I love you more than anyone I have ever met in my life." He said, and the tears began to fall down his cheeks. I took my real hand, and brushed them away as gently as I could. "Shhh, don't cry, Steve." I said quietly.
"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you, Buck. I wanted to, so badly, I just didn't want to hurt you."
"Steve, we are over it. Stop stressing about it. Nothing you do is EVER going to change my feelings for you." I said, taking his hand. He squeezed it, then said, "I tried to kill myself, Buck. That day on the tri-carrier was one of my ideas for an out. I thought I would just let you finish me, so it wouldn't ever look like I tried. When you saved me, I tried to find you. I wanted to explain everything. But when I couldn't, I attempted again. Twice more before I found you." He paused for a second, just to see how I was taking this. My face was soaked with tears, and I was shaking. "Pills, the first time. Bleeding out, the second." He pulled up his sleeve to show me the faint scar trailing up his forearm. "But when you finally showed up here, and I saw the pain you were in, I knew I had to stop. I needed to take care of you. I needed to be with you, the love of my life." He finished, with tears now streaming down his face. I sat there for a moment with the tears still coming, on his lap, just trying to figure out what to say. I wanted to say something sweet, but all I could get out was "Why didn't you tell me?"
The hurt look on his face made me want to start over. "No, Steve, I get why you didn't tell me, but I would have been more understanding than you would think. I love you, Steven Rogers, and nothing you could ever say or do will ever change that." I said, still crying. My words were broke up in sobs.
"I should have told you." He said quietly, "and I'm sorry I didn't."
"Steve," I said breathily, "please don't be sorry. Please just don't do it." My voice cracked at the thought of loosing him. He pressed his forehead to mine. "I promise, Bucky. I couldn't leave you." He said, then leaned in for a kiss. This kiss was so much different than the last two, it was soft and loving, and you could tell we were each afraid of loosing one another.
Steve's POV
Part of me feels like I never should have told Bucky, but the other part feels like I should have told him much sooner. I was just praying that he wouldn't ask why. The thought of telling him that I tried to kill myself because of him just seemed too horrific. I couldn't tell him that the guilt his death gave me made me want to end my life. Of course, there is always the possibility he would understand. My mind was racing with these different thoughts and worries, and I was thankful Bucky was in the shower so he wouldn't witness my stress. "I. Need. Meds." I said breathily as I raced to the cabinet where the medicines were stored. I pulled open the cabinet doors and searched for the correct bottle. TAKE ONE PILL IN EVENT OF HIGH STRESS OR ANXIETY, the bottle read. I shook one out and swallowed. I took some deep breaths, and began to feel calmer already. I walked back to the couch, and felt a sleepy haze wash over me. Before I knew it, I was conked out.
