EPILOGUE

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Almost a year had passed since that heart-breaking - no, heart-shattering -  night on the train when she lost him. Watching him fall as she could only stand there, truly helpless, pierced a hole crater sized into her heart that throbbed constantly for the first six months that felt like decades. It wasn't until early spring, when life was returning to Brooklyn, did it settle to a dull ache, only surfacing on the nights where she would wake from a once welcomed dream then turned nightmare.

They would always begin with just the two of them. She would then recall either their late night cafe runs, dancing aimlessly in her apartment until the sun rose, or simply just her in his arms. They were so happy - so hopelessly in love. Yet those blissful dreams would always conclude on that damned train, the explosion crushing her ear drums, but all she would ever see was Bucky and that icy ravine.

And the nights in which these dreams occurred were often. It was a constant battle of  fighting sleep and eventually succumbing to it. But they seemed to have decreased since training for SHIELD began. It sure as hell kept her occupied with newer levels of insight she was learning and the physical training that created toned muscles underneath soft skin, but she could never imagine a single day without thinking about him. No matter the grief his death caused, his life brought her so many cherishable memories that she wouldn't dare to part with.

Yet one morning she awoke to a ray of sun peeking through her windows, and the beam landed on the spot of her nightstand where a picture of her and Bucky and his unopened letter lied.

She had kept it there for that series of twelve months, only looking yet never touching it for she couldn't bear the thought of that envelope holding his last words to her. But that morning felt different.

She rose from her bed and felt drawn to the envelope beside her. Touching the soft manila paper, she knew it was time.

Visiting Bucky had become a weekly ritual in Gideon's life. Each time, she would sit on the soft grass in front of his grave, a bundle of roses cradled in her arm. This time was no different.

She settled down before the stone that read;

James Buchanan Barnes

Beloved son, brother, and friend

1917-1945

"Hey Buck," she smiled softly as she placed the flowers down.

On days when she felt that weight piling on to her chest, only gasping sobs could escape her quivering lips and tears would rake down porcelain cheeks, yet on others, when the day was better, she would talk for hours. It would be about anything; the most recent mission she was assigned, how much she missed dancing to jazz, or if she spotted some boxing relic he would like. She would stay for hours, enjoying it because it was in those moments where she didn't feel completely alone.

But when she rested on the grass, her knees splayed beside her, the letter felt heavy in her hands.

"God knows how long I've been putting this off," she shook her head as she studied letter. "I always feared that reading this would be a goodbye Buck, but I think that today I've realized, goodbyes were never our thing. I mean, imagine all of the times that we've beat the odds. This is just another one of those times because we're going to meet again. Somewhere, somehow," her voice softened before she drew her thumbnail beneath the adhesive of the envelope.

Her fingers first touched a folded piece of paper and pulled it out, and then her breath hitched when her eyes fell on the first line.

Gideon,

You are the love of my life, without a single doubt.

Currently, you are sleeping next to me in a hotel room in a country I can't remember the name of, but it's beautiful outside. You've spent the past hour before falling asleep telling me about the first dog you owned and all of the dogs you want to have in the future, and you had the cutest sparkle in your eyes.

You also made me realize that I want to hear you ramble on about whatever else everyday. It could be about all of those expeditions you want to take in tropical lands, or space, or hell, even the most boring topic you can think of because I know you will find a way to make interesting. You constantly amaze me.

For the past few months, I've been constantly trying to imagine how I'm going to ask you this. And every time I try to think of a way to say it, I can never quite word it the way I want to, but I want you know this is the last way I want to know how I feel.

I honestly hoped you would never have to read this because 1. Something bad has happened since Steve gave this to you, and 2. I planned to ask you the second the war was over. But here it goes,

Will you marry me?

Love,

Bucky

    Her hand flew to her mouth to stifle a soft cry before her eyes travelled below the second line. Tears fled down her cheeks and dampened the sleeve of her shirt as she tried to brush them away, yet she was undeniably smiling.

She was smiling because she had remembered the night exactly. After hours of trudging through miles of coldness, they settled in an inn and spent the night staying warm. With just each other, they stayed up for hours thinking of the future, not just their future with each other but of everything they wanted to do. And both had set up big plans ahead.

[She never imagined it would turn out like this though.]

But as she sat in the quiet cemetery, she continued to read the last line, and time seemed to have frozen for just a moment. It felt like she was back at home, before it all happened, sitting in her apartment or that café she loved so much. His newest letter would either by in her hands, or next to a cup of a coffee as she penned back a response joyously. But then reality set in once more.

Despite that thought, she found herself whispering yes over and over, her voice breaking and tears continued to fall down her cheeks although they were a mix of both sad and happy ones.

Her hand then fell momentarily to the ground, her fingers brushing over the envelope beside her. She hadn't noticed before, but she felt a hard object beneath the creased paper. A curious frown furrowed into her eyebrows before she found out what it was.

Then an unexplainable feeling washed over her.

"Oh Buck," she murmured, holding a golden band between her fingers. A little sapphire sat encrusted on top; she remembered telling him that it was her favorite gemstone, yet she didn't mention that it was due to it being the same shade as his eyes. "I love you so much."

The sun behind her continued to shine bright, maybe even a little bit brighter as more rays continued to break through the mid-morning clouds. But even as Gideon Erskine mourned the loss of James Buchanan Barnes, the man she loved and always would, a man with the exact same shade of ocean blues eyes watched her in the distance with only the faintest hint of recognition for her.

POSTED: [12/7/16]
[COMPLETED NOVEMBER 12, 2016]

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