A Brief Moment

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Bucky drifted in the empty darkness. Time moved like liquid around him and he wasn't sure whether it had been days or merely hours. The last thing he remembered was Wakanda and then nothing. Occasionally he'd spot a glimmer on the horizon but they'd always disappear before they got too close. More often than not he spaced out, not asleep yet not awake either, just there.

A shadow of grey moved at speed past him. That happened often too. Usually flashes of silver and grey streaked past him, the grey more common. He'd touched one once, a silver one. Memories had flashed before his eyes of a young boy blossoming into a successful man. He donated money to several different charities and Bucky had watched in fascinated horror as the shade recalled the post snap. Unfortunately the last memory was of two cars colliding and a bright flash.

He let the shadow go and watched as it disappeared. He'd understood then. He wasn't dead, not quite, but he wasn't alive either. From then on any shade that passed he'd grab, hold tightly until he'd absorbed as much information from them as he could. Steve was alive, so was Natalia. That only brought him some small comfort, even if he'd apparently been dead for five years.

Something glowed in the far distance, an orange ball of fire. It hurtled through the inky darkness and span uncontrollably towards him. He braced himself but he needn't have. The orb smacked him full force in the chest but where he normally would've cracked a rib, his only reaction was to fall slowly backwards due to a certain lack of gravity.

The glow shimmered and faded, becoming a rusty red that glistened a soft silver underneath. It was a shade. It flitted nervously and tried to regain its energy. Before it could leave though Bucky wrapped both arms around and held it firmly in place. The energy that rippled through him was almost overwhelming.

Flashes of memories, so jumbled and unorganised. There was no rhythm, no timeline. Just fragmented pieces of a torn mind.

A fire sprang to life, licking the walls and ignoring the cries from within. A young woman staring down Capitol Hill. A ballerina, poised perfectly on stage. The feeling of cold metal as the gun was balanced in her palm. The agony of fire as it rippled through her veins, blue serum flowing through the tubes whilst the restraints bit painfully into her skin. An archer. A metal arm. Snow. A dead senator. An alien invasion. Blood. A purple cliff with an orange moon. A green rage monster. An army of robots.

All of it zipped by so quickly that Bucky barely caught any of it. He knew enough though. Enough to know that he was holding Natalia, that she was dead. Her shade shuddered and the light flickered. Slowly a silvery wisp wove itself into her ghostly figure. Her eyes were shut and her hair blew gently in a nonexistent breeze. He cupped her cheek, tears pricking his eyes. She released a soft sigh and he wished she'd look at him. She didn't. It was like she was asleep.

At least he could still hold her. He drew her in, his hand going up to thread in her hair. Unfortunately his hand found the sticky mass of blood and bone splinters, the back of her skull caved in. Horror filled him as he held her arms length away and truly took in her twisted limbs. She was a puppet who'd had her strings cut. "Natalia." She didn't respond.

Suddenly he was sucked back into her memories, his own face appearing several times. He watched their relationship from afar, watched how careless and stupid they'd been, too caught up in love. He watched as she ran. Forged a new life for herself and dedicated her skills to good. Then he watched as he reappeared, her conflicting emotions putting her at war. Finally he saw the brief moment they'd shared just before the final battle. It had been bittersweet, a small reunion that neither fully got closure from.

He was pushed back into the now suffocating darkness and the ghostly spectre started dissipating. "NO! Please!" His hand went straight through her and the orb from which she'd come from starting vibrating. Their time was almost up. "Please! How did it happen? Natalia!"

A high pitched noise keened from the shade and the red glow dimmed. He clutched hold of it and hugged it close, wedging it between his knees and his chest. "I need to know. Natalia! Please!" A tremor rippled through the very fabric of this consciousness and with a final whistle the orange glow surged out and washed over him, the orb blasting out and blinding him with its light.

He was on a cliff. That same purple cliff with the orange moon. Bucky could tell he wasn't on earth anymore. He could also see his body, as in actually see the smooth metallic ridges of his arm and the navy blue of his uniform. This was the first time he'd managed to be in someone's memory.

Natalia sat hunched forward, her hands clasped between her and her brows knitted in thought. To the side stood the archer, Barton if he recalled. He brushed a a few flyaway hairs that had escaped her braid and wrapped his own calloused hands around her smaller, smoother ones. He was kneeling in front of her, staring into her eyes and drinking in every feature of her that he could. She lifted her head, her eyes meeting his for the briefest off moments. He saw determination rise fiercely within them and was forced to withdraw as she approached Barton.

Words were passed between them, something about their past mistakes and the blood on their hands. Bucky knew all to well the feeling of wanting to redeem yourself but not seeing how. Everything clicked. She'd sacrificed herself. Unfortunately he realised it too late as Barton was on the floor and she stood over him with her widow bites charged. Bucky ran at her and tried to tackle her from the side but instead he passed right through. His mouth opened in a silent scream as she raced towards the edge.

Barton loosed an arrow and she was blasted to the side. He watched, unable to move as Barton leapt over the edge. He guiltily felt relief but that was short lived as abject terror filled his lungs when Natalia forced herself to her feet and launched herself after him.

Bucky was suddenly hanging off the cliff side, Barton tangled in grappling line next to him. "Damn you." Bucky couldn't agree more. Natalia merely smiled, already knowing that she'd won. It tore Bucky's heart in half to see her so readily accepting her death.

"Let me go." It hurt more than anything he could recall.

"No." Barton struggled against the line, reaching his other hand as far as it could go.

"It's ok." The words pierced Bucky like a knife. The steel point cutting jagged lines into his heart.

"Please." Barton whimpered and Bucky knew that neither of them were prepared for what was coming next. She smiled gently, at peace with her decision before raising her feet and kicking herself off the cliff face.

"Nat!"

"NO!" Bucky was thrown back into the shadows. He was alone. No glowing orb, no ghostly shade. No Natalia.

Grief overtook him and he howled into the void. His cries shredding his throat raw and his stomach aching with the physical pain of losing her. He couldn't cope with the agony of his misery and clawed desperately at the darkness, diving into the welcome reprieve of unconsciousness.

He was woken later by the fizzing of an orange halo. At first he thought she was back but that was vetoed the moment a strange man grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward. He landed on the plains of Wakanda and was helped to his feet by a grinning Sam.

His grin soon faded when he saw the anguish that painted Bucky's face. "Who'd we lose?" Bucky swallowed thickly, of course Sam must have conversed with the shades too. Thankfully he was saved from answering when a man dressed like a monk addressed them.

"The avengers need our help in the battle against Thanos. Will you fight?" Bucky picked up the gun lying on the floor, ignoring the pain as he recalled selecting it from her locker.

"Let's go get this son of a bitch." Thanos would pay.

A/N Not sure if anyone's thought of this yet?

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