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ageofultron · 5 years

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Coming Home

PROMPT: You said you loved me. So why did you leave?

A/N: this is my entry for @an-all-write-life ‘s 1.2k followers celebration! This is the first time I’ve attempted to write a oneshot, so please bear with me if it sucks! I don’t really know how I feel about it but I had fun writing it! I hope you like it and I’d appreciate any kind of feedback!

SUMMARY: The one where Bucky regrets letting you go, so he finds his way back to you.

WARNINGS: angst

WORD COUNT: 1720

PAIRING: Bucky x Reader

It was a warm April evening and Bucky sat on the edge of the couch with his head between his hands, overwhelmed with an all too familiar feeling of loneliness. The sun was starting to set, casting its golden rays through the curtains and giving the living room a soft orange glow. He found himself wondering why he hated this new apartment so much, and he came to the conclusion that it was because you weren’t there.

He hated it because it felt empty without you, the silence a constant reminder of all the things he’d lost. Like waking up next to you every morning and watching you snore softly, still fast asleep, your chest moving slowly up and down. That was one of his favorite sights. You looked so fragile and peaceful and beautiful and god how did I get so lucky, I don’t deserve her, he would think.

Or when he and you stayed up all night just to see the sunrise, because you knew that always calmed him down. It brought him a sense of peace when the memories of his past haunted him, and it made him appreciate the moments when everything was perfect, simply because you had each other. He liked sunrises, because they reminded him of new beginnings.

Those little moments he shared with you, which weren’t little at all when put into perspective, he missed them. He missed the comforting feeling of domesticity, of finally getting to live a somewhat normal life, sharing it with you, the one person who was able to help him start over and gave him the new beginning he longed for. You are not your past, you would say to him, comforting him in times when he needed it most. Slowly, you helped him find himself again.

He remembered all of those precious moments.

But he also remembered being terrified. It was always there, in the back of his mind, keeping him up at night: the irrevocable fear that something bad, something terrible, would happen to you at some point. And it would be his fault. It would be because of his extremely dangerous job that involved saving the world, or because of who he used to be. And he would never forgive himself. What good would it be to save the world if he wasn’t able to save you? This is exactly why he didn’t want to fall for you and why he fought it so hard at first, but failed miserably.

So he vowed to protect you. And he did, with everything he had.

But when you ended up in the hospital after you took a bullet that was meant to hurt him, what had only been a fear before, had now become a reality.

You let him know it wasn’t his fault, you promised him over and over again that you were okay, it wasn’t too bad, you were alive and you were going to make it through this with him right by your side. You reassured him, telling him that if those were the consequences of dating Bucky Barnes then you would happily accept them. That’s how much he meant to you.

But he wasn’t having it.

You knew what was coming, and you tried to fight for him, wanted him to stay. None of it made sense to you, and you were angry - sad and confused and angry because you couldn’t grasp the idea that you would have to live without him. That he was leaving you for good.

It was a night he would always regret, but at the time it felt like the right thing to do. He had convinced himself that you’d be better off without him; safer without him. You deserve better, he had told you, someone who won’t put your life at risk, someone who can love you right.

But I only want you, you had replied barely above a whisper with a quivering lip and tears that reached your chin and neck, flowing like a river. It felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.

You completely isolated yourself from everyone you knew and every trace of the person you’d once been was gone with him.

Because when he left he took a piece of you too.

It had been two months since then and now you lay in bed, alone with your thoughts as the bright moon illuminated your dimly lit bedroom. You couldn’t think of anything but him, it made you lose your mind.

It startled you, the knock on your apartment door. You got up, slightly confused, walked down the hall and into the living room and approached the door carefully, a little scared because it was quite late and you weren’t expecting anyone.

And there he was.

The moment you set eyes on him you could hear the beating of your heart and you thought it might jump out of your body. Your mind started to race.

He looked as if he hadn’t slept in months, dark circles underneath his bloodshot eyes, his hair disheveled and his beard unkempt. He was looking down, fiddling with his hands, which let you know how nervous he was and how hard it must have been for him to pluck up the courage to come to you. It hurt you to see him like this.

Your memories with him came to your mind faster than you could stop them, and you wanted nothing more than for him to come back home. You needed him just as much as he needed you.

You were at a loss for words but you somehow managed to ask him what he was doing there, although deep down you knew the answer.

“I’m sorry”, he responded, and when he lifted his head up to look in your eyes for the first time in two months you noticed the tears that he was keeping from falling. You folded your arms across your chest and nodded, urging him to continue, mentally preparing yourself for the emotional rollercoaster this was going to be.

He was struggling hard to find the right words, and you were growing desperate, so you couldn’t help but ask him the question that had been eating at you since the moment he left.

“You said you loved me. So why did you leave?” Your voice sounded rough as you did your best to hide the sadness in it, but it was on the verge of breaking.

He dropped his head and shut his eyes as he sobbed. Your words hurt him, but he thought he deserved them. He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

“When they hurt you, I didn’t know what to do. I almost lost you that day. And I thought you’d be safer without me, so leaving... seemed like the right thing to do,” he paused and rubbed the back of his neck as he let out a long sigh. “I was scared. I was scared of losing you, I had to push you away - I had to run, to keep you safe. I promised I’d keep you safe, I promised, and I failed you”. He had started crying as he pulled at his hair desperately, the feeling of guilt taking over his whole body once again as he started to shake. He had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable.

“I don’t know how to love you without hurting you”

And then you burst into tears too.

Suddenly you weren’t angry anymore; suddenly you knew this wasn’t just about you getting shot that day. To Bucky, it was bigger than that.

You moved towards him slowly and lifted up his chin so you could look at him. All you wanted to do was hold him, let him know it was okay, you were here, and you could work it out.

Bucky saw the look of sheer pain in those eyes of yours, eyes that used to shine brighter than the sun, now void and dark and hopeless. And he realized once again that leaving you had been the biggest mistake he’d ever made. In his heart, he just hoped he wasn’t too late to make it right this time. Because physical pain could never compare to the heartache he had caused you by leaving you behind.

“I’m here,” you finally cooed, “if you’ll have me”. You hugged him tight. You cried together for what felt like eternity, but it was okay because now he was here, and you were here, and you would work it out. Together, as it was always meant to be. Your surroundings seemed to disappear completely and all you could focus on was this very moment. Him, here, with you again. In your arms, where he belonged.

You heard him whisper how sorry he was against your hair, now slightly wet from his tears; he repeated it like a mantra. He wanted so badly for you to know that he was sorry. He had never meant to hurt you. And you knew that now, you believed him.

When you broke the hug, the deafening silence of your living room was interrupted by his hoarse voice.

“I need you”, he softly cried, “I love you so much, I don’t know what to do with myself”.

You could feel every emotion he felt as he spoke. All the pain and guilt and love written all over his voice.

“I know. I’m yours,” you whispered, cupping his face and bringing him closer so your forehead was on his. “Just please promise me you’ll stay”.

And then Bucky felt like his soul was returning to his body.

He leaned in, closing the space between you and kissed you slowly, gently, like he was scared of breaking you. Scared you might disappear before his eyes. He made sure you felt the love he had for you, with a kiss that was enough to make you forget all your pain. God, he’d missed your kisses.

His hands were on your cheeks now, and yours had moved to his neck. The closeness between you fixed everything broken inside of you, the familiar feeling of his plump lips against your own sent shivers down your spine. It felt like home.

And you knew.

And he knew.

This time, he was never letting go.

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