Stucky oneshots

Suicide Attempt

Hi so obvious trigger warning on this one, read the title

This was it. Bucky couldn't take it anymore. Every day, every nightmare, every anxiety attack just dragged him lower and lower and lower. And now, he was giving up. Steve had gone running with Sam and now was his chance.

He retrieved the utility blade he had stolen from Tony's lab the previous week from under the mattress and went to the bathroom. He planned to cut hard and deep all over until he bled out and he wanted to do it in the tub so it would be easier to clean.

He sat in the empty tub in just his boxers with the blade in his metal hand and his phone on the edge of the tub. He wasn't sure why he brought his phone, but maybe, just maybe, he was hoping someone would call and talk him out of it.

Just before he was about to do it, his phone buzzed. He glanced over and saw it was a text from Natasha. "Settle a debate for me and Clint: is confetti cake overrated and is normal cake with sprinkles the same thing? Need your opinion ASAP. 🍰🖤"

Bucky shook his head with the faintest of smiles on his lips. He was going to miss those two. Maybe he shouldn't do this, after all who would settle their debates when he was gone?

No, that was just one happy thing. The bad things heavily outweighed the happy things, he needed to do this.

He made the first cut on his right thigh, pressing the blade hard into his skin and dragging it in a straight, vertical line extending to his knee. He let out a shaky breath, feeling his blood gush out and begin to stain the white tub red. He repeated the motion again, barely an inch from the previous one. When he had made three long incisions on the right leg, he moved to the left one. Just as he was about to push the blade into his skin, the bathroom door opened.

"Bucky? What...what're you doing?" Steve choked out as his chest tightened, kneeling beside the tub and putting his hand on Bucky's wrist to stop him from making the next cut.

"I-...why shouldn't I?" Bucky asked, his voice wavering as he forced himself not to cry. "Why should I stay alive?"

"Stop, you're not killing yourself. I can't lose you again. We're just getting our chance to live our lives together like we've always wanted, you can't die now." Steve begged, tears rolling down his cheeks and falling onto the edge of the tub.

"Everyday gets harder, Steve. I-I can't." He bit back a sob, using all of his willpower not to let the tears fall.

"We can get you help, Buck. It doesn't have to be like this, there's medication and therapy and-and we can help you feel better. There's so much we haven't done yet, don't leave now."

Bucky lost his battle with his tears as they began to fall freely, mixing with the blood that was flowing from his leg.

"Buck, give me the blade." Steve commanded softly.

"No." He cried softly, pulling out of Steve's grasp and clutching the blade tight against his chest so Steve couldn't get it.

"Bucky, come on. I can't handle losing you again. I love you, and I need you to stay alive for awhile longer. Please doll, just hand me the blade."

Bucky choked out a sob and surrendered the sharp metal to his husband. Steve quickly tossed the blade on the counter and pulled Bucky into his arms, lifting him from the tub and holding him tight.

"I'm sorry." Bucky sobbed, holding onto Steve's shirt with tight blood-stained fists.

"You're okay. It's going to get better, keep fighting. Don't give up." Steve whispered as his tears fell on Bucky's shoulder. He carried Bucky into their room, sitting against the headboard on their bed with Bucky laying against him before wrapping a towel around his mangled leg. "Jarvis, get Banner up here now."

Bruce hurried in with his first aid bag after Jarvis informed him of the situation. "Hey Bucky, can I see your leg?" He asked calmly, having been in his shoes before and feeling a strong sense of empathy for him.

Bucky nodded slightly, even though Steve was the one holding the towel tightly in place and it was in his control. Steve moved the towel and the blood began to run down Bucky's leg and onto Steve and the comforter.

Bruce looked at the cuts closely before nodding curtly. "I can stitch these up no problem. It won't feel good, but I'll get it over with quick, I promise."

"Okay." Bucky whispered, still crying as Steve held him tight in his arms.

Bruce began and Bucky's tears intensified. Steve noticed and began playing with his hair and whispering assurances in his ear. "You're doing so good, sweetheart. Hang in there. It'll be over soon, my darling. You're so strong, you know that? Just stay with me, focus on me. Once you're fixed up, we can watch a movie and cuddle together. Does that sound okay? You're doing great, babe."

Bruce kept his promise and finished quickly before giving the two men their privacy.

Bucky turned and buried his face in Steve's chest, mumbling something incoherent.

"Hmm? I didn't hear you, sweetheart." Steve asked, laying down and keeping Bucky on top of him.

"I'm sorry." Bucky said slightly louder. "I didn't think about you finding me and-I just-I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Don't you worry about me. I'm sorry I wasn't there quicker. We're going to get you all the help you need, I promise. But for now, would you like to just stay like this?"

Bucky nodded, cuddling closer against Steve. "I love you."

"I love you too, doll."