a lion among wolves, bucky barnes (hiatus)

thirty-seven.

MISSOURI, LOCATION UNKNOWN, 2015

THEY couldn't move out until the day after next. The world was still on alert for the team, and airline maps indicated at least sixteen flights would cross their path on the way to Seoul. Everyone was high-strung, worried, hopeless. What could they do?

Well, June knew what she was going to do. If they were stranded, she might as well be productive. It might be a benefit no one could leave.

Back in the guest room, June raked a brush through her hair. It was, at that point, one giant snarl at the base of her neck—no one had bothered to tell her it looked so bad. When she finally worked through the knots (sacrificing a fist-sized clump) June braided it over her shoulder. She washed her face and managed to hunt down a change of clothes, but upon removing her shirt realized that the spot on her back where Clint had electrocuted her had not cleared of its bruise—not even slightly. Usually, cuts and blemishes of that nature faded after a night's rest, but this one was as purple and angry as ever and wickedly sensitive to touch. June frowned. It was odd.

But she had bigger problems.

Taking in a deep breath, June marched out of the room. It was dark, nearly midnight, and almost everyone was preoccupied with preparing to move out in a day's time; Bruce was dead asleep, still exhausted and reeling from his episode; Tony had offered to fix a kink in Bucky's arm he had noticed; Natasha and Clint remained inside with Laura, and the three of them were discussing what Laura should do if Ultron somehow found her once they left. The overall atmosphere was bleak and gray—everyone walked with their head bent low.

None more so than Steve.

June found him on the back porch. He sat on the first step, back resting against a post, his shield discarded on the floor behind him. His eyes were inclined toward the heavens. Legs shaking, June lowered herself beside Steve. He didn't even blink.

The silence lost its tranquility and quickly became uncomfortable. Finally, Steve gestured to the black sky. "It's beautiful," he said softly.

June looked up. Her mouth fell open and a stunned "Oh . . ." left her lips. White, searing stars emblazoned the fold of black velvet that covered them, the skin of some ancient goddess that held the earth on her palm. The cosmos stretched above the earth in glittering brilliance, each star brighter than the next. Some of them were long dead, June knew. But they were still so glorious in death.

"I haven't seen the sky like this . . . since I was a kid," June admitted. Her tiny, broken suburb had not been well-lit, so the night was always beautiful. She used to try to count the stars.

She saw Steve nod in the corner of her vision. "Brooklyn used to look like this. Every night. Before everything was so bright."

June smiled limply. "You know, the more I'm here, in a place like this, the more I dislike Manhattan."

"It's loud," Steve agreed. "And gaudy."

June drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. She set her chin on her knees. "Do you know what you're going to do? With living? After all of this, if we're still alive, would you move back to Brooklyn?"

Steve's stare fixed on his hands. He was quiet for a spell, then shrugged lamely. "I dunno," he whispered.

The silence resumed. It was awful—tense and pregnant. June heaved a sigh. "I'm so sorry. For everything I said. And did. How's your shoulder?"

"Fine," Steve replied. He still wouldn't look at her. "And it's okay. It wasn't you who said it."

June wished he'd drop the Good Soldier act and yell at her already. Be upset. Be embarrassed. Why couldn't he or Bucky ever just be assholes?

"Don't lie," June said. "Yell. Scream. It was terrible. Just be angry at me."

Steve shook his head. "I don't want to do that," he said. "Why would I do that?"

June braced herself. "Do you still feel that way about me?" He wouldn't lie. That's one thing Steve couldn't do.

To her astonishment, he chuckled softly. But it was a sad laugh. A laugh in mourning. "I think you put it in a much more crass way than I would have."

June reddened. He'd fuck you if you came to his door and asked. She could still feel the words form on her mouth. Such ugly, heartless words. June couldn't stop her next thought. She wondered for an instant what it would be like with Steve. Certainly nice, she decided. Anyone would be lucky. She'd get breakfast the next morning, and perhaps a million dates after that; a nationally televised wedding, an all-American house with a white fence and perfect children thundering through its halls. She would know Bucky as Steve's old friend whom she'd fought, but seen made new, who'd probably by then have a wife and family of his own.

And that's what broke the scenario.

The thought of Bucky with anyone but her. The idea of waking up beside anyone else but him, even if it was Steve. It was like a puzzle completed wrong, the same pieces forced together in the wrong way; the picture was warbled. It didn't make sense. Even if she did love Steve with all her heart, it was not the same heart she loved Bucky with. Bucky was in her soul.

And whatever souls were made of, theirs were the same.

"So, you do?" June whispered.

Steve sighed heavily, like some great weight had just been set on his back. "I care about you," he murmured. "I care about Bucky. I'm grateful for your friendships. They're the best things I have. So for the sake of those friendships, I'm going to say no. No, June, I let you go a long time ago. I learned how to move on. I don't need or want you. I never think of you. I could live without you." He pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear. "I hope to God that was convincing. I'm sorry for saying it. You know I'm a bad liar. I know you love him. If that's what makes you happy, then that's all I want."

He stood. He collected his shield and went quietly back inside, leaving June alone under the old Brooklyn sky.

She let her face drop into her hands. Things just kept on getting worse. Her chest ached and she thought her guilt might eat her alive. She wished just once she could tell Steve what he wanted to hear, but she could not help the truth. Bucky was it.

June shook her head and made to stand, thinking absently of a good night's sleep, when so suddenly she hardly had a second to process it, a great wave of sweltering heat came over her, the ache in her chest became blinding pain—

and June's heart stopped.

note.
MERRY CHRISTMAS!