Imagine If You Assembled the Avengers: Volume 1

Broken (Bucky Barnes x reader)

Someone asked me to write Bucky and the reader at Steve's funeral after Civil War. It hurt me.  This is based on Steve's death in the COMICS, no spoilers for the movie here as this is written before the release.

"Is my tie straight?"

"Turn around," you whispered, "let me look."

Bucky turned away from the mirror to face you, but before you could check his tie your eyes were drawn to his.  They were a harsh red with a slight puffiness beneath his lashes, giving them a sad softness that you had never seen from him before.  You hadn't seen him cry yet, and you had been with him every moment since...since it happened.  As long as you had known him, he was a fighter, he was strong, he was passionate, and he was a loyal friend.  He was Steve's best friend. 

Was.

The thought of Steve's loss and the look in Bucky's eyes brought back the familiar lump in your throat and the scratch in your voice that had plagued you from the moment that you got the call, when Tony needed you to get Bucky under control.  He may have ripped the heart out of Tony's suit, but it was Bucky who was eviscerated, and you didn't know if you would ever see the version of him that you knew again.

You dropped your gaze to the tie that laid crookedly down his chest and smoothed the fabric with your hand, taking a deep breath at the feel of him; he was unreachable like this, without Steve, but you understood. 

"It's fine, Buck," you said with an uncertain voice.  "Let's just go."

~~~

The service had gone on forever, or it was over too fast, you weren't even sure.  Your sense of time was gone, having not slept in days. The team sat on the old wooden pews of the church together, an ironic turn of events given what had taken place to bring you here; the battle amongst themselves that tore the family in half and that had cost Steve his life. 

Natasha was to your right, holding your hand and squeezing it tightly with every wave of tears that flowed down her cheeks, letting them flow freely for the man who had come to be like a brother to her.  Bucky was on your left, his hands folded tightly in his lap and his jaw set, using the extent of his concentration to keep himself composed.  His eyes were fixed on the dark wood box at the front of the church, adorned with flowers and covered in the stars and stripes. 

You looked at your team one by one, but you had yet to find Tony in the group.  Scanning the seats around you and on the opposite side of the church, trying to be subtle, you still couldn't find him.  He said he would be here, but maybe it really was too much for him.  He was struggling with his responsibility in the fight, but you thought that you had convinced him that he needed to say goodbye to Steve properly.  He needed to say goodbye to his friend too.

You were brought back to attention when the music began and Bucky stood, straightening his jacket and moving slowly towards the front.  His posture became rigid as he took his place at the front of the casket, taking the gold handle firmly in his grasp.  You could see the pain in his expression when his skin made contact, and a grimace crossing his face when the men lifted Steve's weight to carry him out.  It wasn't the weight itself, but the weight of what Bucky had lost that hurt him the most.

"Come on," Natasha whispered, trying to clear her throat and wipe her tears away, "I guess this is it." She pulled you into a tight hug, releasing you to lead you outside with the rest of the team in tow.

"Nat, where's Tony?"

Her eyes quickly darted upwards, and you followed her line of sight, seeing Tony sitting in the balcony above the group, just out of their line of vision.  His face was red and you could just make out a glistening of moisture on his cheeks. 

"Is he going to be okay?" you sighed.

"Will any of us?" 

~~~

When they prepared to lower Steve into his final resting place, Bucky finally took your hand, squeezing it so firmly that you felt the sting of blood draining from your fingers. "Buck, hold it together," you turned to whisper in his ear, "I know this hurts, but hold it together for Steve."

He dropped your hand and quickly moved towards his fallen friend, laying his hand on the casket, running it across the polished wood as they removed the flag and began to fold it. Bucky stared ahead when the soldiers tried to hand it to him, so you stepped forward to accept it in his place.

"Thank you all for coming, and for paying your respects," you announced, your voice cracking, "please join us at the tower so we can honor Steve's life, and remember him for the extraordinary man that he was."  You waited until the sounds of their low voices and muffled conversations were gone before trying to approach him.

Even after the group had cleared, Bucky didn't move.  The cemetery workers were waiting for him so that they could lower the casket and begin to lay the earth over it, knowing better than to interfere with Bucky Barnes saying his final goodbye to Steve Rogers.  You set the flag on your chair and moved next to him, hesitantly putting your hand over his.

"Aren't you even going to cry?"  With the words came your own tears, stinging your cheeks again, and clouding your vision. Your breaths became uneven as the sadness finally took you fully for the first time.  "It's okay, Buck."

He pulled his hand away and his body began to shake, his shoulders hunched forward and his head hung low so that you couldn't see his face.  A deep sob built in his chest, growing into a growl that became a powerful yell, resonating through the cemetery and startling the men waiting for you. 

When he forced the final breath from his lungs, he gasped and turned to you, pulling you to his chest as if he were holding onto you desperately for his life.  As if you were the only thing holding him to the ground; holding him to reality from the pain that was tearing him apart.  Time had stopped as you cried together and rain began to pour, mixing with the tears that felt like they would never stop falling.