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CONTENT WARNING: deatheater draco/ negligent father/ maternal death/ marxist family view/ pivotal character death/ blood
SUMMARY: growing up as a malfoy child, life was never as easy as it may seem. in your father’s eyes, you merely lived behind the shadows of your little brother, not that you could complain. at just 17 years old, draco had the whole world put on his shoulders and you were the only person in his whole world who could make him feel like maybe, just maybe, that he could get through it all.
A/N: i've never written anything like this before so be nice ty. also this song won’t completely parallel the story, it’s just a baseline of sorts. not proofread ooft but i'll do it soon.
WC/ AVG. READING TIME: 4170 words/ 20 minutes
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YOUR FATHER NEVER seemed to be too fond of you. he always look at you with disgust or unpleasantness.
your grandfather was even worse than father. unlike your father, he kept his opinions about you well known, almost as if drilling in into your skull whenever he would visit.
you were one years old when you first met your grandfather.
your grandfather peered down at you and leaned back into the armchair he was on.
“is this her?” grandfather asked father.
“get her off,” grandfather lightly kicked at you, but not enough to hurt you.
“yes, father,” father picked you up and placed you back into the playpen, walking to the kitchen to scold mother for letting you of of her sight.
you had inherited mother’s features more than father’s. you had y/h/c coloured hair, and y/e/c coloured eyes.
by the time you were three, you were able to understand coherent sentences albeit not fully, but you got the gist.
“who is going to carry on the malfoy name if you cannot produce a heir?”
“you’d be better off giving birth to a squib than a girl.”
your grandfather never seemed to care if you were in his presence when sprouting such obscene words about you.
it was almost as if he wanted you to know his detest for you.
all of these combined meant in your family’s eyes, you were not a true malfoy.
𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭
you were four when your mother came home after being gone for a few days.
you were being looked after by a house elf when you saw a baby being coddled in your father’s arms.
your father admired the baby in his arms, a twinkle in his eyes as he did. although you were only four and understood little about the world, you knew that your father loved this baby more than he could ever love you.
lucius was quick to tell your mother to care for the baby while he wrote to his father, presumably to proudly announce that he had indeed produced a heir.
“hi little love,” your mother greeted you as she dismissed the house elf.
“this is your baby brother, draco,” she sat in the arm chair while you stood by your mother.
𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘸-𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘥, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘵
the baby had soft platinum blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. he looked like a splitting image of your father.
you wanted to reach forward to pet him, but quickly retreated your hand when draco let out a cry.
“go ahead little love, just be gentle.”
“hi dwayco,” you carefully pet the top of his head.
as you did, draco let out a small coo and bubbles of saliva formed on his mouth.
“look at that? he already loves you little love,” your mother smiled at you warmly.
“dwayco wuv me?” you asked sweetly as you peered up to look into your mother, who nodded at your words.
“i wuv you too dwayco.” you kissed the top of his head.
as you and draco got older, it was clear who your father and grandfather favourited.
there was always that one child who received praise for whatever they did, who had to merely speak their mind to get whatever they wanted.
and that child was not you.
but you could not say you were upset about not being the favourite. being on the back of father and grandfather’s mind meant you were left to do whatever you wanted.
unlike draco, you were not forced to sit with the governess and write lines. you were not forced to learn potions with uncle severus during the weekends.
you still received pocket money regularly, and ate just as well as draco did. sure your father and grandfather did not do more than look in your direction, but you were idling by just fine and you were content enough. right?
it was your first year in hogwarts that you realised what blood purity and prejudiced was.
being sorted into slytherin, it was clear than the other purebloods amongst you grew up in much different environments than you did.
since you were in the backburn of lucius’ mind, he never seemed to bother to enforce the blood purity mindset into you.
apparently, you were not allowed to talk to gryffindors, and muggleborn wizard were to be identified solely as mudbloods.
you merely shrugged at those strange ideologies and decided to follow the crowd. you never necessarily cursed any of the other house members out, but you did try to avoid them as much as possible.
you were in your fourth year when draco had joined hogwarts.
being away from draco for the last four years meant that you had drifted apart from the blonde boy. even while you’re eye home for the holidays, draco was whisked away by the governess to be taught whatever nonsense your father had paid her to.
“oh y/n! i can’t wait for us to spend every second together! i missed you dearly,” draco held onto his trunk excitedly as he walked with you onto the train.
“yea, sure,” you nodded along awkwardly as you opened the door to an empty carriage.
you placed your trunk above you and sat down, draco doing the same.
“oh. you’re sitting here?” your brows came to a furrow.
“am i not supposed to?” draco asked wearily.
“uh no, but my friends are coming to sit so i’d rather you not,” you admitted.
it was not that you were irritated but draco, it just had been so long since you last spent proper time with him that it felt odd.
it also did not help that you were in different stages of your life, you were a teenager while draco was turning eleven next month.
“oh, sorry,” a look of disappointment flashed draco’s eyes and you felt immense guilty for what you had said.
“wait drac-” you tried to stop him, but he had already scurried away, trunk in tow.
the sorting hat ceremony had begun and draco had skipped over to the slytherin, settling next to you.
being the young boy he was, your harsh words from the train had completely slipped his mind.
"hi y/n," he cheered and introduced himself to the table.
"wait, so you're both siblings?" a third year student questioned.
"yea! y/n's my sister! isn't she the best?" draco gushed.
"are you adopted or something?" the same slytherin asked.
"what? no i just-" you tried to explain that you looked more like your mother and draco looked like your father because that was exactly how genes worked, but teenagers were teenagers and they just continued to point out how you were 'definitely' adopted.
you could not be arsed to entertain the childish behaviour any longer and you shot up from the bench, walking out of the great hall.
"stop it," draco scolded and quickly followed after you.
your footsteps echoed through the empty corridor.
it was just that in hogwarts, you were finally your own person. at home, you were the unwanted malfoy child. but in school, you were y/n malfoy, not confined by the suffocating walls of your bedroom.
and now that draco was here, he was messing up your whole mojo.
"y/n!" you heard draco run after you and you quickened your pace.
"y/n," draco tugged on your school robes.
"what?" you spat as you turned around.
"are you okay?"
"yea, just. leave me alone from now on. please." you tried to remove draco's grip from your robe by holding onto his wrist but he quickly winced.
"ow!" draco pulled his hand away.
"draco..." your voice laced with concern as draco backed away from you.
"i-it's nothing," draco stuttered and attempted to walk away but you held him by the hood of his robe.
draco turned away to look at you, his eyes trained at the floor.
"hey, dove, what's wrong?" you held draco's chin with your thumb and forefinger.
"f-father was upset i couldn't conjure a spell yesterday," draco's lip quivered.
your eyes softened at his admission and you crouched down, pulling draco to your chest.
"i got you little dove, you're safe here." you comforted your little brother, placing a kiss on the top of his head.
"he can't get you when you're here."
and that was when draco realised why you were always anticipating to return to hogwarts whenever you were home.
"bloody hell, what's happened now?" you cursed under your breath as you sped walked through the corridor.
you were in the library studying during your free period when a year one had informed you your brother had been admitted to the hospital wing.
you entered the hospital wing to see pansy parkinson and blaise zabini hovering over your blonde headed brother.
you stopped in front of the cot and cleared your throat, causing pansy to pull away from draco.
"we'll see you later," the two third years excused themselves.
"what'd you done now?" you crossed your arms and sat on the edge of the cot next to draco.
"why'd you always assume it's my fault." draco rolled his eyes.
"well was it?" you raised an eyebrow.
"i guess, but it was that stupid hippogriff that attacked me!" he reasoned.
"but would it have attacked you if you didn't do anything?" you challenged.
"no..." draco mumbled.
"here's what we're going to do. you're going to apologise to hagrid and we're not going to tell father about this because lord knows he'd have buckbeak killed."
"do i have to?" draco whined and you gave him a glare.
"fine." he settled and pushed himself to sit up.
"don't get yourself hurt again. okay?" you sighed.
"okay," draco pursed a smile.
"c'mere," you opened your arms and as draco hugged you back, you placed a kiss on the top of his head.
you graduated hogwarts with almost perfect scores. lucius had told you not to find a job since it would ruin the malfoy family's prestigious reputation.
he had however, allowed you to become uncle severus' potions assistant.
you were reluctant to accept your uncle's offer but you would much rather spend your days in hogwarts than at home.
your mother's death had hit you hard. draco was in his fifth year and it was your second year as the potions assistant.
you and draco were excused from school for a week and you returned home. you and draco grieved together, holding onto each other as you cried yourselves to sleep.
that week was a blur and you and draco returned to hogwarts with solemn looks on your faces.
you moved out of the malfoy manor and got your own flat during the summer holidays on 1996.
draco would visit as often as he could, but lucius had forbid him to after august.
you found it strange that you had not heard a peep from your brother, but you passed it off as your father wanting draco to focus on his academics.
it was almost as if draco was avoiding you. he would avoid your eyes during potions lessons and whenever you asked his friends where he was, they would shake their heads and tell you they did not know.
you were walking back to your chamber after a long day when you saw draco walk past you.
"draco," you held him back by his shoulder and draco seemed to have snapped out of his trance.
you studied your brother's features. his eyes were sunken in and his cheekbones were more prominent than before. he looked sickly.
you raised your hand to his cold cheek and rubbed the pads of your thumbs below his eyes.
"my god are you okay?"
at your endearment, draco choked out a sob.
ever since his fourth year, draco had grown immensely and he now towered over you.
"oh little dove," you cooed and pulled him to you, craning his head down so he could cry into your neck.
when draco's cries seemed to have quietened, you pulled him away from you so you could look at him.
"do you want to talk about it?" you put a hand to his forehead to brush the hair that had gotten lose away from his eyes.
draco was about to speak when he let out a wince, "i-i have to go."
and with that, draco sprinted away from you before you could even run after him.
you marched into your chamber and scribbled a very angry letter to your father, asking him hwo the fuck he could neglect his son-your brother-to the point where he looked like the brink of death.
you had not managed to deliver the letter to the owlery when uncle severus knocked on your door frantically.
you burst through the potion's master's chamber door to see draco lying on his bed.
you had just walked into him a merely thirty minutes ago and now draco was here, his white button up dyed red from his blood.
you body trembled and sat next to a sleeping draco.
"w-what happened?" you asked uncle severus and he gave you a sad shaking of his head.
draco let out a cough and you whipped your head to turn your attention back to him.
"i'll let the both of you talk," uncle severus spoke as you helped draco sit up to lean against the headboard.
"what's going on draco, just let me in please," you begged.
𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘴 '𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘥
draco hesitated and rolled his sleeve up, revealing a mark you had seen on your father's forearm before.
"i-i didn't want to, i didn't have a choice," draco pulled his sleeve down and you took a moment to let the newfound information sink in.
"i didn't want to, i swear," fresh tears rolled down his cheeks.
you wondered just how many time draco had cried since you had last spent time with him in july.
you did not know what to say to draco, truly just shocked that not only was voldemort back, but your baby brother was now a deatheater.
you and draco sat in silence as he regained his composure, you holding his hand as he stared at the duvet emptily.
draco soon fell back asleep from the calming draught uncle severus had given him earlier.
"i love you, my little dove," you kissed the top of draco's head as you walked through the corridor, chewing on your thumb.
draco confided in you about what was required of him over the course of the first half of the school year.
he drifted away from his friends and spent most of his free time in your chamber, even if you were not there.
you did not necessarily helped him with his tasks, but you did not tell anyone about it. you could never find it in yourself to betray your brother like that, no matter how much you believed what voldemort was doing was wrong.
it was christmas and your father was hosting a ball.
"father," you greeted lucius and he merely looked away from his newspaper for a milisecond before turning back to the daily prophet.
with you dress and things in hand, you pattered up the staircase.
you knocked on draco's door and he let you in.
"hi little dove," you kissed him on the cheek as each of you silently prepared for the night.
"could you help me with my tie?" draco asked.
you looped the tie around his neck and tightened it, pulling it up to his collar.
you helped him put his coat on and brushed off his shoulder.
"you look handsome, mum would be so proud," you whispered and looked up at him with a smile.
"no she wouldn't, not if she knew of the things i've done," draco avoided your eyes shamefully.
"you did what was forced of you, you have a good heart little dove, that's all that matters." you tapped on the left side of draco's chest, "now come on, father's expecting us downstairs."
draco stuck out his arm and you looped yours around his.
you and draco bowed and smiled to the other pureblood families and members of the sacred twenty-eight, appeasing to your father's strict demands and expectations of the two fo you.
"may i have a dance y/n?" someone you recognised to be a third cousin asked and you reluctantly accepted.
when the song came to an end you excused yourself and hurried back to where draco was standing.
"he kept lowering his hand every time i pushed to back onto my waist," you spoke lowly to your brother, discomfort written all over your face.
"y/n," your father called for you and you walked over to where he was standing.
"i am sure you have met alastair," lucius gestured to the cousin you hand waltzed with earlier.
"it has been decided that you will marry him."
your father announced as if it was nothing.
"what? no! he's my cousin!" you raised your voice slightly, causing a few heads to turn in your direction.
"do not cause a scene y/n," your father warned through gritted teeth.
you shut your mouth but the daggers you were glaring at your father throughout the night did not falter.
"it is absolutely ridiculous! i'm telling you!" you threw your hands in the air as you paced around draco's bedroom, "what does he think this is? the victorian era?"
your father had spoken to you after the ball, saying how by marrying family would keep the blood pure.
"i cannot believe him," you shook your head as you tugged on your messy hair.
but as always, whatever lucius malfoy wanted, lucius malfoy got.
and so here you were, in february of 1997, in draco's bedroom in a white wedding dress.
draco was your bridesman and he was helping you clasp your necklace.
as draco looked into the reflection of the mirror, he noticed your glossy eyes.
"i don't want to do this draco, i don't want to marry him," you wiped your cheek with your palm.
draco kneeled down so he was at your eye level, turning you around on the vanity chair.
he reached for a handkerchief and wiped your eyes. never in his 16 years of life had he ever seen you cry.
it was not that you were incapable of crying, you just never cried in front of your brother. you wanted him to think that you were strong, that he could always rely on you to comfort him through dark times.
but you were being forced to marry someone you did not love, he was blood related for god's sake. and for the first time in your life, you could not hold back your tears anymore.
draco decided it was time to put his big boy trousers on and let him be the shoulder you could cry on.
"run away," draco breathed out.
"what?" you sniffed.
"run away, go to another country," draco repeated.
"i-i can't do that, i can't leave you," you shook your head.
"but i can't let you marry a man you don't want to marry," draco held you face with both of his hands.
"listen y/n, i'll be fine. i could never live with myself if you fell through with this. i'm old enough now, i can look after myself. please, just leave, go, i'll send you money whenever i can. just get out of here." it was draco's turn to tear up.
"a-are you sure?"
"i've never been so sure of anything in my life," draco got up and brought you the clothes you had arrived in, asking for you to change in his en suite.
when you got changed, you apparated you and draco to your flat.
draco helped you pack the necessaties into a charmbed backpack and removed any personal items from your apartment.
"do you have anywhere to go?"
"i have a friend in america, his family owns a magical beast sanctuary."
"can you trust them?"
"i-i think so."
it was clear that you and draco were holding back sniffles and sobs.
"if i don't owl, it means it isn't safe for me to." draco informed.
you and draco simultaneously let out a chuckle, "we look bloody ridiculous right now." you laughed, referring to both of your red rimmed eyes.
"i love you, so much, you know that right?" draco asked you hopefully.
"i know little dove, i know," you pulled your bag over your shoulder as you gave your little brother one last hug.
his lips rested on your forehead and you pulled away after giving him a squeeze.
"when all of this is over, i'll find you." draco promised.
before you could second guess your decision, draco apparated back to the malfoy manor as you stood by your fireplace, floo powder in your hand.
𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘩𝘰𝘸, 𝘸𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩
it had been months since you heard from draco. months since you ran away from home.
the scamander family opened their home to you. rolf, who was around your age, had been your main source of emotional support.
"have some tea," rolf rest a hand on your knee and you thanked him.
𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘧 𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘢𝘺
draco's last words haunted you to sleep every night. what if he never found you, what if you never saw him again.
you were beyond terrified to write, knowing your father would be livid after you stunt you pulled on the day of your arranged wedding.
𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺
"stay safe my little dove," you would whisper to yourself each night before you went to sleep, hoping, wishing, that draco could hear you.
𝘪 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺
rolf was there to console you when you read on the quibbler about the battle of hogwarts.
you prayed and prayed, prayed that your little dove was safe from harm.
you begged for newt to let you leave, to let you travel to hogwarts and fight. you did not care for which side you were fighting on, as long as you were fighting alongside draco.
rolf had to hold you down as you pleaded with a snotty face and tearful eyes, he kept telling you that you were safe here, that draco would want you to be safe.
𝘨𝘰𝘥, 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺
your world collapsed in front of you when you read the death toll list on the front of the quibbler the day after voldemort had been killed.
"draco lucius malfoy" in bolded capital letters it read at the very first casualty.
"n-no no no no this can't be happening," you hyperventilated as your breath quickened and your throat closed.
"y/n, you need to breathe," rolf supported your body to prevent you from falling.
"no, no, this is your fault. if i had gone, i would've protected him. he wouldn't have died," you pushed rolf away from you and locked yourself in the small bedroom.
you did not leave the bedroom for days. you did not eat, you did not sleep. you just stared at the ceiling above you feeling completely numb. your soul had left your body and you were now a lifeless corpse.
rolf knew better than to try and comfort you, less you fell into another panick attack. he would leave food and water by your door with a knock, which you ignored every time.
four days later, an owl pecked on the window and you let it drop an envelope drop on the bed you were on.
you noticed the penmanship and seal rightaway.
you ripped the envelope open and read the letter.
dear y/n,
if you're reading this, i am no longer with you physically. but i will always be with you, in your heart, in your mind. i'm sorry i couldn't hold on anymore, i'm sorry i gave up trying and let the darkness take over. i'm sorry for never standing up for you whenever father would throw horrible insults at you, and i'm sorry for embarassing you during my first day of hogwarts. i'm sorry for always coming to you with my troubles and i'm sorry for throwing you the responsibility of being a shoulder for me to cry on. but what i will never be sorry for is asking you to leave. you spent your whole life being my gaurdian angel, and for once i wanted to be yours. i asked rolf to have you stay, i made him promise you did not step a foot on the hogwarts castle grounds. i love you more than life and i could never ask for a better sister. i love you, and i hope that you're okay.
summary: (y/n) is gone and if the only way for draco to see her is through dreams, so be it
or
“grief is the price we pay for loving.”
warnings: it’s written in non-chronological order, draco is really going through it, grieving process, mentions of blood (not detailed)
(if there’s any more warnings you think i should add let me know!)
a/n: i’m usually one to write fluff, but i wanted to write something more personal, more raw. this one was a roller coaster to write. hope you enjoy it!
i. five months and twelve days after the accident
Draco opens his eyes in panic, breathing labored and loud. He’s scared and confused, and he would be downright spiraling into an anxiety attack if this wasn’t such a common occurrence.
(The first night it’d happened he found himself unable to breath. He’d desperately stumbled out of bed, the haziness of sleep making everything distorted and disorienting. He’d hit his knee against the door, he’d bled on the white tiles of their bathroom floor. He’d spent two hours in the shower that night, fully clothed. The coldness of the water hadn’t been enough to soothe the burning heartbreak that gnaw on his soul, but it’d been enough to anchor him back.)
It takes him a moment to realize he’s frozen mid-action, one of his hands reaching forward and his fingers slightly curved, as if they’d been grasping something.
No. Not something. Someone.
Suddenly everything comes back, jumbled pieces of a half-remembered dream.
Her smile, the small crinkle by her eyes, the warmth of her skin under his fingertips.
Draco chokes out a gasp.
He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe.
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Tw: Fluff to Heavy Angst, Unedited, Mention of Overdoes(Jasons Mother), Parental Abandonment, Death, Swearing, Childhood love like growing up with each other but having feelings for each other since childhood, brief suggestions of homophobia/internalized homophobia, violence, Blood, just general DC stuff so readers discretion is advised
(A/N: I will probably do the same lines for some of the other top characters in the poll above but they will all be different stories and Thank you for Reading :D)
“ Hi! I'm Jason! Jason Todd!
“ Hi Jason, Im (Y/n), (Y/n) (L/n)”
Who knew that two seven year olds growing up in crime alley of Gotham would become inseparable after those two lines? The two boys quickly became good friends after meeting and learning on relying on one another rather than their parents, Jason who hated his crook of a father for abandoning him and his mother and (Y/n) who hated his mother after abandoning him and his father chasing after some old rich man to become his trophy wife dream, the pair was practically perfect for one another. And soon seven turned to ten and that's when they became closer and closer and neither could quite explain their closeness but it was there and both were very fond of it. The raven haired male quickly became enamored with the other even if they were only seven he would turn flustered at the others close contact and the same could be said about the (h/c) haired males as well he would become bashful at Jason's affection for him. One day after the two had finished their regular shenanigans they were sitting in an alley on crates panting.
“ Hey (Y/n) what do you think of marriage?” Jason asked randomly, confusing the other at the question.
“ Um I think it would be nice with the right person I guess,” (Y/n) started shrugging his shoulders before continuing “ Why are you asking?”
“ Would you marry another boy…?” Jason asked as his voice got quieter at the end biting his lip and picking at the skin around his nails nervously. When he said that the (h/c) haired male took a sharp breath holding it tightly as if everything would come crashing down. Had Jason really found out the secret he had held so close to his chest for so long?
“ J-Jason, why are you asking me this?” (Y/n) said his voice trembling in anxiety as he asked the other refusing to look at his Jason just continued to pick and pick at his nails holding his breath.
“ Would you marry me someday…?” Jason asked, also trembling, Why did he do this? What if the other hated him for this? What if he never speaks with me again? His thoughts started spiraling but he had brought this upon himself he must see it out yet he refused to look at the other keeping his head down strands of hair slightly covering his face.
“ Of course I would.” (Y/n) chuckled letting his breath go overjoyed and amused by the situation. Jason peered up hopeful eyes shimmering on the verge of tears as the (h/c) haired male stood up walking towards him putting his hands on his cheeks.
“ I promise the next time I ask it will be with gold,” Jason said, holding the others hands on his cheeks “ Man I've been wanting this since I met you!”
“ Jason we were only seven and slow down we are ten we still have a ways to go.” (Y/n) said laughing bashfully at the others outburst of affection and enamorment.
“ Ok and?”
The two laughed and hugged clinging onto each other that was only the start of their enamorment for one another. However things soon became complicated Jason's mother overdosed and he was only left with (Y/n) whom he of course cared for but it did still cause pain. Yet through all his pain the (h/c) haired male was patient and remained by his side which the raven haired male would always appreciate. But Jason started to strip cars for parts like his mother and in doing so put himself in danger he refused to tell the others out of some fear he couldn’t quite place. Jason was one night looking for another car when he spotted a sleek black car and stole a tire from it trying to go back for the other tires he had been caught by Batman. Soon one thing led to the next and Jason was adopted by Bruce Wayne which he had learned to be Batman. That made things complicated between (Y/n) and Jason, Jason got to live in a shiny new house in the upper parts of Gotham while (Y/n) was left in crime alley with a father who worked consecutive 16 hour shifts as a nurse in the local emergency room and was never home no matter how great of a father he was it took a toll on the boy. The boy was of course thrilled for Jason but it didn’t stop the void of Jason's frequent appearance to now be limited. The two boys tried to keep their contact up they definitely didn’t fail but it was exactly the best until Jason became the new robin which happened pretty quickly. When Jason would patrol crime alley he would take at least several hours at the end of his patrol to spend time with the (h/c) haired male. While it was quite late (Y/n) was just thrilled to spend time with the other.
Their relationship only grew stronger and stronger until it stopped. Jason was killed by the Joker and the pain that (Y/n) felt was unimaginable, it felt like he was torn up from the inside out, How could he just die? How could the person he cared for just stop being there? Why did this happen to Jason? But before he could even fully grieve Jason was back his Jason was back his Jason Todd was back but he wasn’t his Jason he was not the same Jason while angry at so many was also joyful to just as many this Jason was cold and shattered, cynical. (Y/n) couldn’t blame him but his heart crackled into a thousand pieces finding out what he went through. Yet he stayed by his side through it all and while neither were quite the same when they were younger they loved each other all the same. Then before they knew it they turned eighteen and Jason got the fuck away from that house from the man who had just replaced him and from the same man who had brought his killer back from the dead even if it was for the sake of his older brothers conscious. The (h/c) haired male soon after moved in with him while their place wasn’t exactly in the high end of Gotham it certainly wasn’t crime alley. The two were happy in their safe little space away from Bruce, away from the Joker, away from Black Mask, away from crime alley, away from everyone, a space where they could just be together.
Jason still thirsted for the same feeling he got as Robin so he became Red Hood waging a war on his enemy Black Mask it was one of the easiest decisions he had made in his life after loving the (h/c) haired male. However he thought he would keep it a secret from the other which didn’t exactly work out as he had planned. One night as he attempted to sneak back in from the window from the fire escape only to notice that the light had been on and on the couch (Y/n) had been curled up in the corner covered in a fuzzy blanket with red bats on it and had been reading his course book very casually.
“ Hello Jason” (Y/n) said, folding his arms, setting his book on the armrest looking at the other inquisitorial.
“ Hey love,” Jason said, chuckling nervously, rocking back and forth on the ball of his feet in front of the open window.
“ So what were you doing out in the middle of the night?” The other continued looking expectantly.
“ I was taking a walk?” The raven haired male replied, shrugging not exactly lying but not exactly telling the truth.
“ In spandex and a leather suit? I don’t think so.”
“ Look I’m sorry I just didn’t want to make you worried.” Jason started walking towards the other male.
“ I would worry either way. I worry about you everyday because I love you but if you need to do this I won’t stop you but at least let me help with that.” (Y/n) said pointing at the scrapes and bruises that littered his torn up suit that Jason didn’t even notice.
(Y/n) got up and led Jason to the sofa before leaving to go to their bathroom rummaging around grabbing the first aid kit bringing it back to the main room leaning down in front of Jason about to touch him but looking up for the others consent first Jason nodded quickly before (Y/n) went hard to work cleaning and bandage cut and scrapes and feather touches drag against bruises to check for breaks. After the couple went to their bedroom cuddling in their shared bed the (h/c) haired male twiddled with the two white streaks of hair the raven male had. This was the first of many nights like that however one night was different Jason felt the imprint of the ring in his jacket pocket and before he knew it he was getting onto the ground with the other, (Y/n) looking quite confused. Jason crouched on one knee at the same level as the other fumbling around trying to get his hand into his pocket, quite embarrassed at his lack of smoothness the other just staring at him peculiarly.
“ (Y/n) I have loved you since we were seven you have never left my side and while it's silver not gold will you still marry me?” Jason said his voice wobbling as his fingers shook holding the gleaming silver ring in the silence of their living room (Y/n) in shock before a wide smile graced his face, his eyes bending into crescent moons.
“ Absolutely Yes! I love you so much Jason.” (Y/n) practically shouted, throwing his arms around the raven male's shoulders pushing him accidentally to the floor both smiling wide Jason leaning upward to kiss the other, the other reciprocating deeply. In their small safe space, safe from everyone else only love radiated and that was enough for the two of them it was enough.
But nothing good can last forever and with Jason it was only inevitable for something to go wrong. Jason was out on patrol like normal however this time he had gotten a lead on Black Mask having some sort of base in an old abandoned warehouse which certainly seemed strange considering the villains flair for dramatics yet he had arrived at the warehouse walking in cautiously having his pair of pistols at the ready. The industrial lighting flooded the room when he stepped in but no one was in sight. Jason approached the center of the room only to notice the large black screen on the wall which flickered on only to show what appeared to be a video of Black Mask his empty eyes staring into Jasons soul through the screen.
“ Hello Red Hood I’ve noticed that you have started to take more and more of what's mine,” he had started with an annoyed tone dressing his hands on the desk in front of him “ So I’ve decided to take something of yours.”
The sentence made Jason's heart freeze No they couldn’t be talking about you could they Jason thought to himself.
“ You see we quickly figured out about your so called lover or I guess now fiance I should say which by the way congrats,” Black Mask said amused chuckling to himself his eyes sharp with malice “ However you should invite me to the wedding but I guess there will be no wedding when my men are done with him. Oh well I guess make that invite to the funeral.”
Jasons breath collapsed as he turned and sprinted he couldn’t hear anything else except his heart pounding matching his feet’s sprint through Gotham the cold night air whipped his face, his lungs burned, but he couldn’t feel anything except the overflowing amount of fear gush through his body his mind and heart screaming at him to go faster. The little light of their apartment shined dimly but shined in comparison to all the other darkened windows of the building. Jason reached the fire escape practically hurling himself up the ladder then the stairs trying to get to their window. When he arrived the window had but shut to his first relief but when he climbed through his heart plummeted the room had been absolutely trashed their dinner table broken, vases smashed, drawers and cabinets open but what scared him the most was the dark pools of red that seeped around the downturned unmoving (h/c) haired male. Jason rushed to his fiance's side without a single though except He must be alive. The raven male turned the other over gently but at a speedy pace. Jason could only feel his heart squeeze into an inexplicable amount of pain as he saw the huge gash across the others stomach practically gutting him. Just when Jason though he couldn’t possibly be in more pain, (y/n)’s eyes squinted open.
“ Ja-Jay” He said Jason's heart was absolutely shattered at the nickname he only called him when scared. Jason took (Y/n)s hands clinging onto them for dear life guiding them up to his face.
“ I-I'm here, I'm right here. You see I’m right here.” Jason said his voice worboling as he tried not to cry but only to feel little beads escaping from his eyes his lip quivering.
“ Jay, Jay, I'm scared-“ The (h/c) haired male started frantically only to be cut off with a cough that surged his whole body up red colored fluid came up which Jason very well knew was blood but refused to believe it instead rubbing the back of his hands.
“ Hey, Hey, it’s gonna be alright we're gonna see the venu tomorrow and we're gonna go pick out our outfits Roy and Dick are gonna make sure we don’t pick out the same thing and then soon we will be at our wedding, the demon spawn will bring us our rings and Tim will be the Dj and your going to walk down the aisle and look stunning and I will probably cry like a baby because I will be getting to marry the man I’ve loved since I was seven and we will get our happy ending the ending you deserve.” Jason said frantically trying to hold in his sobs holding his fiance closer on his lap.
“ Hmm that sounds very nice… You deserve a happy ending Jason, I’m sorry.” The (h/c) haired male said humming trying to look Jason in the eyes as best as he could with his blackening vision. Jason however broke out into full sobs. He should have known that this would happen yet he tried to ignore it and now he couldn’t do anything about it. He should have given his love so much more than he had yet it was too late but one promise in particular burned in his mind.
“ I promised you gold but all I’ve given you is silver.” The raven hair male choked no longer holding back his sobs as he grasped at (Y/n)’s hands.
“ And I would be fine with hay.” (Y/n) spoke gently, smiling up at Jason, his already squinted eyes staring to close even more.
“ I love you Jason…” The voice drifted off eyes closing hands falling limp, his skin growing cold, his head lulling back, his chest freezing, his heart stopping and his smile becoming a neutral expression. Thats when the dam broke open for Jason a flood of anger, regret, sparrow, vengeance and anguish poured through him. He rocked back and forth with his love in his arms not caring about the blood in their little safe space that had been violated, turned into a crime scene, and a reminder of an unfulfilled promise and a shattered dream. He leaned in kissing his loves forehead and whispered.
“ I love you too. And in another life I swear I will give you gold.”
° Series Summary: A Time Heist mission goes wrong, and some of the Avengers end up in the 1950s. Desperately clinging to their lives, they wind up in a place subconsciously. And unfortunately for Steve, and especially to Bucky, they find themselves face to face with someone they wish not to see.
° Chapter Summary: Worried about how his mission may go, Bucky visits a ‘touchy’ place, and recalls the short life he had with you.
° Date: 7/20
° Rating: Teen
° Word Count: 4,569
° Warning: Talks about death/dying; Reference to Suicide; Guilt; Child Abandonment; Talks of Fertility Issues; Alcohol; Allusions to Depression. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
° A/N: The only excuse I have for taking so long to get this out is because I had an expected mental health break. One that was needed. But I'm back! And I'm slowly updating some of my other stories! So be on the look out for those! Also, let me know if I missed any warnings! Enjoy!
The freshly wetted grass squished underneath his boots with each and every step. His shoulders were slacked, but his wrists were tense as he held the delicate bouquet with both of his hands. He was always nervous to be here, even though he’s done it so many times after finding it, the nervousness never went away. The nausea never stopped too… or the guilt… the fear… the sadness. Nothing ever stopped like he so desperately wanted to. Was this a curse he was stuck with for helping to bring another child into this cruel world?
He reaches the end of his line, just a few short inches away from where his toes could touch the stone; The stone etched with words and numbers that made his heart ache. And when his knees felt weak he lowered himself to the ground, sitting back on his heels. With a bittersweet expression on his features, he removes the old lilies and replaces them with your favorite, pearly white ones. The ones you always smelled like when you came back from playing in the park. Who knew he would miss such a fragrance?
He takes a deep inhale through his nose, and exhales quietly, gathering his thoughts. “Hey, baby girl. It’s been some… time since I’ve visited. I honestly thought I should wait until your half birthday, but…” He trails off, frowning. “But uh, I’m heading off on another mission tomorrow, a… potentially dangerous one.” He chuckles dryly. “You know the deal with those.”
He pauses like he’s waiting for your answer he knows he won’t get, letting the hot summer wind touch his face and through his chocolate locks. He waited for that as his cue to continue on.
“Uh… so…”
It hurts to even think about it.
“I was just…”
Should he even say it?
“Wondering again if it goes south I can…”
Should he repeat what he always says to your grave?
“Be next to you?”
Another pause, this time it felt more painful. It always hurts to be here. It always hurts to say those words because it wasn’t like he had a death wish, it wasn’t like he was afraid of death, he just… didn’t know if he deserved to be next to you. You were his whole world and he fucked it up. Fucked it up so bad that it makes him more anxious to want to hold you, and hug you, and kiss you, and just talk to you. He loves you.
He’s loved you since the very beginning.
.
.
.
Bucky would have fallen back in shock if it wasn’t for the small bundle in his arms. His ex-girlfriend had just said some words that he didn’t need to hear right now. Couldn’t even comprehend it.
No, it wasn’t, ‘Can we get back together? I made a mistake’.
No, It wasn’t, ‘The baby isn’t yours’.
No it was–
“What do you mean you’re leaving?” He asked, disbelief etched in his words. There was also an underlying sense of anger and betrayal, because–
She couldn’t be serious...
Right?
He watched the woman standing in front of him roll her eyes, snatching her purse from his living room’s couch while responding, “I don’t want her. I only had her because you wanted to keep the baby after finding out I was pregnant.”
He nearly doubled over when he heard the disgust in her voice. “So you’re just going to leave?” Bucky asked, seeing his ex now putting on her winter coat. “But our daughter needs a mother figu–”
“YOUR daughter.” His ex snapped, poison on her tongue. “That baby–” She points furiously. “That baby is a spitting image of you. All the way from the shape of her face to the way she smiles. Everything. Which is fine by me, I don’t want someone looking like me out in the world.”
Bucky opened his mouth to speak as he followed her behind as she walked towards the front door. Unfortunately, she beats him to it. “As for a mother figure, you’ve got three sisters and a mom. That baby can pick up skills from them.”
She swings the door open, letting in the cold breeze of February. Snowflakes flew in, sticking to her clothes and curly hair. Bucky immediately stood sideways and drew you as far away as he could from the freezing air.
(Was she trying to freeze you?!)
“Dottie!” He called out from the doorway, stopping her on the porch.
She wasn’t even going to look back at him, wasn’t she? Or even look at you? Did she truly not feel anything?
He doesn’t know why but his voice cracked, and although he and his ex’s relationship was always rocky, and they both knew that whatever was between them wasn’t going to work out, he still doesn’t want her to leave him alone with a one week old.
“Come on…” He continued, quietly. “At least stay for a couple months until I can do this on my own.” His lower lip quivered slightly. “Please?”
He felt you shift a bit in his arms, probably from the weather, and waited for her to turn around…
But she never did.
“Goodbye, James.” Dottie said, before trailing across the snow covered path to the sidewalk.
Bucky watches her disappear into the night, his feet glued to the floor even when part of his mind told him to run after her. It would be a lie if he said that he didn’t want to go after her, thinking that maybe she’ll change her mind if actually begs, but the mere thought went out the door when you started to get fussy and cry.
Something deep within him kicked in, probably that parental instincts he’s heard about from his own parents, and all his attention was turned to you cradled in a lilac colored blanket.
“Hey…” He whispered, readjust his hold so that he could gently brush their–
No.
That’s officially gone out the window.
It’s just his daughter. His.
He readjust his hold so that he could gently brush HIS daughter’s cheek. To brush your cheek like a soft paint brush across a canvas. “Hey. Don’t cry.” He says, soothingly.
He makes a soft shushing sound as he closes the front door with his hip, before carefully guiding himself to sit near the fireplace. He lays you cautiously in his lap, almost in awe as he sees your eyes peeking open for the first time.
(Y/E/C) eyes.
So beautiful like the world itself. He almost wanted to start taking pictures.
Maybe later though.
He chuckles sadly, tears in his own as he brushes your cheeks again. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry, I got you.” He said, smiling down. “I got you, baby girl.”
You cooed quietly, staring back at him with a bit of curiosity. The look you were giving him melted his heart, but it also made him feel like he didn’t deserve any of this.
“I’m sorry…” He croaks, sniffling. “It looks like it’s just going to be me and you, doll. I’m so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”
You made the cute sounds that took his breath away again, taking up his whole surroundings. However, if it wasn’t for his military training, he probably wouldn’t have even heard someone tumbling down the stairs. Bucky glances at the living room entrance, finding a certain skinny blond that he called his best friend. He saw his chest move slightly, and could almost hear him panting from here.
“S-Sorry.” Steve exhales, leaning against the door frame. “Your mom sent me down here when we heard everything go quiet.”
Bucky smiled a little. “She got worried?”
Steve copies him with a chuckle. “Yeah. She wanted to make sure you hadn’t run off with her grandchild.”
The brunette shakes his head. “That sounds like my mother.” He turns his attention back on you, but from the corner of his eye he could see his friend shifting uncomfortably, almost hesitantly, in his spot. His smile grows. “Come here.”
“What?” The blond said, genuinely confused.
“Come here, Steve. You can see her.”
He stiffens up a bit, looking unsure. “H-Her… A-Are you… are you sure?” Steve asked, pointing towards the stairs in the hallway. “I-I shouldn’t be the one seeing your baby first. Shouldn’t I–”
“Get your ass over here, Rogers.” Bucky said, almost wishing he could free his hand up and drag him by the ear (he was always so timid and too cautious sometimes).
Not even daring to question his best friend’s wish, Steve wandered over and took a seat on the couch next to Bucky. He leans in close, examining the small bundle in the soldier’s arms.
Steve’s big blue eyes lit up with joy. “Wow, Buck. She’s adorable.” He said, as you scrunch up your nose to show off your cute, chubby cheeks.
“She is.” Bucky said, fighting back the stinging sensation in his eyes again. He now wonders…
(Is this what it's going to feel like all the time now?)
After a moment of silence, Bucky threw his friend through another loop. “Wanna hold her?”
Steve held his hands up in defense almost immediately after those words left his tongue. “Oh, no. I shouldn’t.”
“I trust you.” Bucky holds you out a little, a reassuring look on his face.
Steve raises a cautious eyebrow. “You sure?”
“Yes.” Bucky laughs. “I’ll show you.”
Bucky then takes his time showing Steve how to hold you, giving him pointers and readjusting everyone once and awhile until he has you in a good position. The blond’s nerves seemed to vanish into thin air when he started to see that you were looking at him with the same curious eyes you made at your father. Those eyes of yours could melt anyone’s hard shells at this point.
Steve chuckles, and grins as he gets butterflies in his stomach from you. “What’s her name?” He asks, sparing a glance at your dad for a split second. “Did Dottie ever give her one?”
Bucky shakes his head sadly. “No.” He said, his voice feeling rather small at the moment. “No she didn’t. I’m tasked with giving her one.”
“Have you thought of any? I know you were looking through some books a few weeks back.”
“I have and I think…” He takes another good look at you, making sure the name was the right choice. “I was thinking… (Y/N).”
“(Y/N)?” The blond repeats back, testing it out like an echo chamber for his friend who nodded back.
“Yeah. (Y/N).” Bucky tests it out his lips as other names start to form. “(Y/N)... Stevie Barnes.”
He looks up in surprise. “Stevie?” Steve asks in disbelief again.
Bucky smiles. “Well, I heard Stevie is the girl version of Steve, so…”
“But…” His blue eyes look away again, looking completely torn.
Your father raises an eyebrow over this. “But what?”
“You’re flattering me way too much, Bucky.”
“Am I?” Bucky asked, tilting his head, slightly puzzled.
“Y-Yes!” Steve said, shaking his head. “Y-You can’t– You shouldn’t name your kid after me.”
Now it was his turn to be even more confused. “Why not?”
“Because, I’m– y-you have sisters! Parents. Y-You should name her after them. Not me.”
“But, Steve, you’re my brother. Besides…” Bucky shifted in his seat, knowing what he’ll say next is touchy. “I know… the doctor said you might not be able to have kids so… think of this as me… giving you a small piece of that.”
Silence befell, the subject was something that really hurt Steve when he heard it the first time; Hell, it even hurt his mother who was present at the time. It kind of haunted him for a while because what could he offer to a person who wanted to share his life?
Steve stares at him for a while before tearing up, laughing quietly and looking away. “Jesus, Bucky. You’re making me cry.”
A chuckle. “Well don’t, ‘cause I’ll start crying again.” Bucky says, making them belly laugh.
The blond sniffles and tests the name out on his own. “(Y/N) Stevie Barnes.” He looks back down at you, his smile returning fully. “Not bad, Buck.”
Your father looked at him teasingly. “And what’s that supposed to mean, Steven?”
“Nothing.” Steve replies, holding back another laugh as he watches you start to drift back to sleep. “I’m really happy for you, man.”
“Thanks.”
A few moments more passed before you were carefully placed back in your father’s arms, where all he did was stare back at you as you pulled yourself to sleep. His happy face started to falter, and there was a heavy amount of doubt in his ocean blue orbs.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Steve.” He finally admits before swallowing the lump in his throat. He soon felt his friend’s hand on his leg, giving it a comforting squeeze.
“You don’t have to do this alone, Bucky. You’ve got your family and you’ve got me.” Steve said, honestly. “And you know this. However, don’t doubt yourself, you got this. You’re going to be a great dad.”
Bucky’s lip curled up a bit, not caring that he was about to cry again. “Steve Rogers. The man who always knows what to say.”
“What can I say? I try.” He asked, coping with his expression.
“And you think I’ll be great? Even with me being a soldier and everything else that comes with it?” Your father asked, doubt was still just lingering on the surface no matter what he did.
Steve gives another gentle squeeze. “I know you’ll be great. I know you’ll do anything to make sure she’ll be okay. So don’t worry too much, okay? (Y/N)’s going to be lucky she has you.”
Bucky hums, truly grateful for a friend like him.
And without an ounce of hesitation, he bends down slowly and kisses your sleeping forehead.
“I already loved you so much, (Y/N). I hope you realize that.” He whispers, lovingly. “And I’ll do anything to make sure you’re safe.”
He swears at that moment he saw you smile.
.
.
.
Bucky brushed his flesh fingers against the words in the stone, tracing your name and important dates. February 23rd, 1936. A snowy, snowy day. Cool and crisp. Although he had to wait and wait until you were a week old to hold you, a week old to realize he was on his own, a week to realize that he truly loved you. No upcoming birthday surprises could top this one. But if he loved you so much then…
Why were you cursed to be underground?
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
When Bucky got back home to his apartment, he found himself subconsciously grabbing the bottle of scotch in his cabinet. Although he knew he couldn’t technically get drunk, the feeling he got after a couple glasses was close enough. Sometimes… he liked the quietness in his home, the time to relax, untouched and left alone to be himself; But most of the time, after so many years of being alone in his head, he loathes being alone. Friends and family were everything to him growing up. You were everything to him growing up.
He still wonders what it would be like if you were here, running around, asking him twenty questions, painting his toes, etcetera. He always wondered what you were like when you got older, the side of you he never got to see. He always wondered what those short years did for you.
Why did he have to get taken from you so soon?
.
.
.
You dove around your grandparents and aunts’ legs as you made your way out of the house, ignoring how your father’s duffle bag, that subconsciously you hated, was laying on the porch steps. You stumble around a bit on your five year old legs, before finding the person you wanted to see.
“Uncle Steve!!!” You yelled, throwing your arms up.
“Hey, Pumpkin.” He said, teasingly. He wastes no time to scoop you up, and carefully holds you close to him (it’s been years and he’s still afraid he’ll drop you). “Have you gotten smaller?”
You scrunched up your nose at him, shaking your head. “No.” You giggled at the silly nickname, and it all was because you were pocket size.
“No?” Steve said, tilting his head, all cocky. “Are you sure?”
You giggled again. “Yes.”
He grins. “Just checking.”
A sigh came from inside, before the two of you saw your father exiting his parents house, all dressed in his neatly ironed uniform. He looked miserable as he gazed at his bag on the porch.
“Ready?” Steve asked, readjusting his hold on you as he frowned himself.
“Unfortunately.” Bucky mumbled, not ready for what’s yet to come. However, when he faces you his whole expression changes for the better. “And there’s my little girl!”
“Papa!” You yelled, holding your arms out. He takes you in his arms, hugging you gently. “Are you leaving, Papa?”
“Oh, baby doll, I am.” He said, pulling back to look at you. “But don’t worry, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He taps your nose. “Okay?”
You nodded slowly and smiled. “Okay!”
“Good.” He gives you a big kiss on your head, before peppering your face with some more making you laugh. “I love you, (Y/N).”
“I love you, too, Papa.”
“I love you more.”
He gives you one more kiss and one more hug before transferring you over back to Steve. They both give each other a strong hug and pat on the back, smiling bittersweetly.
“Be safe, Bucky.” Steve said, trying to hide his concern.
“I will. You too. The both of you.” Bucky said, grabbing his bag and making sure his voice was stern.
“We will. I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“Thank you, Steve.”
He bid them goodbye, and you and Steve watched him walk down the path to the military jeep parked nearby. It was chilling almost to watch, and your five year old mind couldn’t quite comprehend the heavy feeling you felt underneath the surface.
“Uncle Steve?” You asked, prying his eyes away from the moving vehicle.
“Yeah?” He said, softly.
You looked at him all puzzled, something wasn’t adding up. “I thought you told me you were going with him?” You swear he mentioned something like that to you yesterday. Right?
His eyes look away from you, almost like he was recollecting himself before giving you his answer. “I am. But not yet.” He replies, honestly. His orbs finally meet yours again. “Not until I know you're okay.”
“Really?” You asked, tilting your head to the side with curiosity.
“Sure am.” He smiles once more. “Now, what do you want to do? You want to see what Grandpa and Grandma are doing?”
Your eyes light up at their names. “Yes!!!”
He laughs at your enthusiasm. “Okay, okay. Let’s go see them.”
.
.
.
Bucky throws a bottle of scotch across the room, shattering somewhere. He didn’t care though. It’s not like he even batted an eye.
Five years old.
That was it.
That’s the last time he ever saw you.
And that hurt like a bitch.
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
He doesn’t know when…
But everything suddenly just…
Clicked.
Memories of his flooded in like a broken dam. He starts to recall who he was before and after the fall. Before and after the war. Before and after everything. So as he made his way to Siberia with his friend, Steve, he remembers something that was like a knife to his heart.
“I have a daughter.” Bucky said abruptly, cutting Steve off.
When he was on the run after the helicarriers fell, he remembers his time growing up in the early 1900s. The (multiple) times he saved his best friend’s ass from being picked on, or the way he took his younger siblings to the park, or helping his mother bake, or fixing the car with his dad. But there were a few memories he was confused by for a long time.
First he only heard little laughs, or someone trying to sing a child’s song. Then he saw little toys and dresses. Then he saw a little face with big, wondrous eyes. It didn’t take him long to realize who she was.
He met with his friend’s eyes quickly, almost getting choked up by an emotion that had been under lock and key for so long. “...I have a daughter… don’t I?”
Steve, who seemed taken back by his sudden string of words, opens and closes his mouth a few times, before settling his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Yes, Bucky. You do.”
Bucky looked away, the confirmation sending his mind spiraling again, and the Captain could tell. He decides to approach this carefully since he knows his friend isn’t hundred percent in his right mind yet.
“Do you remember her?” Steve asked, watching him nod slowly. “What do you remember?”
Bucky thinks long and hard about this. What did he remember about you?
“Uh… I remember she was tiny… always tiny.” He chuckles quietly, making Steve smile. “She uh… had um… (Y/H/C) hair that was kind of wavy when she got older. Um… big, bright (Y/E/C) eyes. She… she um… smiled a lot… I think?”
“Yeah, she did Buck. All the time.” Steve said, patting his shoulder gently as he could see the joy it was bringing to his friend.
Bucky laughs again. “Uh… you used to call her by a weird nickname. What was it? Uh…” He purses his lips. “Po… Potato?”
Now it was the blond’s turn to laugh. “N-No. No. Close… Starts with a P, though.”
“Um…” His eyes light a spark. “Oh. Yeah. I remember now. We took her to her first Halloween pumpkin patch when I could hold in one hand because she was so tiny.”
“Yep. That’s what I called her.” He says with a nod. “Your Ma tried to dress her up like one.”
“Oh, yeah, she did.”
And then it got quiet, and Steve saw the bright light in his friend’s eyes go out when the wheels started to turn again. He held his breath, knowing what he was recalling next.
Bucky swayed on the balls of his feet a bit, looking at the floor. “She was five the last time I saw her.” He says, bittersweetly. “I remember, the night before, I took her to Coney Island, and we just played games and ate until our bellies ached. I got her a stuffed bear on the ring toss…”
Steve squeezed his shoulder, trying to give him some comfort because he knew there was no stopping any memories of you.
“She was with you when I left. I gave her hugs, and kisses and…” His voice starts to break. “I love you’s…. Um…”
“Bucky–” Steve begins, hating how hurt he looked.
“Steve. W-Was that last time you saw h-her too?”
Steve closed his mouth, thinking to himself. He couldn’t lie. He was a terrible liar which the brunette always sees through. So what was the point of even trying?
Cap shakes his head. “No. I saw her when she was nine. ‘Bout to be nine.”
“N-Nine?” Bucky asked, just above a whisper. “W-Why?”
“Um…” He swallows. “I had to…. I had to tell your family about, you know… the train… and you.”
The Soldier went distant. “O-Oh…”
“I wanted to make sure I was the one to tell them.”
“Oh…” Bucky started to get teary eyed. “D-Did you tell her?"
Steve held his breath again. It was like his mind started to relive that day.
You looked so happy to see him, but he watched that expression vanish when you saw his sadden face. It hurts to take you by the hand and into your room. It hurts to see how you’ve grown, and to think he got to see it and not your dad made the situation a whole lot worse.
He wanted to lie and tell you your dad was hurt.
He wanted to lie and tell you your dad was still at war and won’t be home for a while.
He wanted to lie and say everything was going to be okay.
But he couldn’t, and felt like it was his duty to tell you what happened to your father, to his best friend.
He knew if the situation was reversed, Bucky would be doing the very same thing now.
And when he did tell you, he hated how you kept on denying it. You called him a liar, and god he wished he was.
“I-I did…” He said, feeling his eyes sting as well.
Bucky jaw clenches. “A-And?”
Steve looks away for a second. “She cried for three hours.”
With his hand still on the brunette shoulder, he gave him another comforting squeeze. “She…” Cap chokes, his memories flooding in all at once. “S-She um… she gave me her blanket, the one that she came home with. She um, wanted me… to promise to come back to her. But um… I failed at that, I guess.”
Bucky frowns. “Steve–"
“I tried finding her, Buck.” He finally looks at him. “When I came out of the ice, SHIELD managed to give me some of my things from the war. I kept the blanket in my chest, so… I tried finding her, because I didn’t want to break that promise to (Y/N), but…”
“You didn’t find anything?”
Steve shakes his head. “Not exactly.” He whispers, exhaling shaky.
“Not exactly?” Bucky asked, wanting an answer. “What does that mean?”
Now it was Steve’s turn to look all messed up. Especially since he couldn’t make eye contact again. He swallows a lump in his throat and says, “I’m so sorry, Bucky…”
“Sorry about what?” Bucky couldn’t understand what was happening and it was honestly starting to scare him. “What are you sorry about?”
“(Y/N)...” He sighs quietly, and forces himself to look in his best friend’s eyes. “Pneumonia. She, uh… got pneumonia in ‘54 and passed.”
Now the knife has dug deeper, chilling his bones too. “She’s dead?” He said, barely audible.
“Yeah. She’s dead.” The Captain replies, dispirit. “I found the spot where she’s buried. I can take you there if you–”
“Thank you, Steve.” The soldier says, ignoring the blond’s confused state. “I mean it. You were always so good to her, and to think you never stopped looking after all this time means A LOT to me. Do you understand? You helped my daughter when she was at her lowest, and you even found her for me. I thank you for that.”
Steve smiles bittersweetly. “No need to. I said I’ll always be there for the both of you.”
Bucky returns the gesture. “As will I.”
“Now, let’s finish this, shall we?”
.
.
.
“-Bucky.” Steve says, touching his shoulder and getting a small jolt from the man. Surprised eyes fell on him as he returned with concerned ones. “You ready?”
“Uh…” Bucky looked around quickly, remembering it was standing in the locker room changing. He didn’t even realize he had zoned out. “Y-Yeah.” He said, zipping up the front of his Quantum Suit. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
Steve tilts his head, the worriedness never vanishing. “You sure?”
“Yeah.” He nods. “Let’s get this mission completed.”
And those were the words that would change -everything-.
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"Your eyes are glowing and I'm holding your hand
You ask if I'll run with you up to the edge
Hands on my waist and fingers running through hair
Well, I know that it's all in my head...
If the stars ain't showing, the whiskey ain't burning
Well, I'm still gonna be your girl
When we both stop growing and they dig us deep
Yeah, I'm still gonna be your girl..."
The light of the sunset had your apartment glowing gold. Bucky's body leaned up against yours, letting you play with his hair while the two of you watched the classic Gene Kelly musical, Singin' in the Rain. As Gene Kelley swept Debbie Reynolds into his arms near the end of You Were Meant for Me, Bucky nuzzled in closer to you. "How have I not taken you dancing yet, sweets?" he asked as he turned to face you. An unexpected chuckle fell from your lips at his question, making him cock his head to the side with confusion.
"Buck, I don't have any idea where- people don't really go dancing anymore. If you go dancing these days, it's at like, a rave or a nightclub" you told him, "I'm sure that's not the kind of dancing you're looking for." A disappointed frown twisted his lips downward and he sighed out a huff. Then, without a word, he was up off of the couch.
He turned off the tv and pushed the coffee table out of the way with no effort at all, creating a makeshift dance floor right in the middle of your living room. He flew across the room to his record player and pulled out his favorite Frank Sinatra record, letting the sweet sound of your favorite Sinatra song, Be Careful, it's My Heart slowly fade in through the crackling and popping of the record.
"May I have this dance, gorgeous?" Bucky asked as he offered you his shiny vibranium hand. A warm sensation took over your cheeks as you accepted his proposal, letting him pull you up off the couch and into his arms. His hand found your waist and yours wrapped around his neck as the two of you began to move with the music. "I don't think anyone's ever asked me to dance before..." you murmured against his chest, making Bucky stop moving completely.
"Oh, doll. That's criminal," Bucky said, clearly disturbed by your confession, "if you were my girl back in the day...I would've taken you dancing every Friday night- would've bribed the band to play a slow one for us". He pulled you tighter against his body and hummed in approval at his favorite sensation: your body pressed against his. "I'm glad I found you now, though..." he continued, "there's no way I ever could've left for the war if you were my girl. Probably would've ended up a draft dodger". The thought of Bucky leaving for the war, being gone from you for so long and in such a dangerous situation, made you press yourself even closer to him. You let your eyes close as you rested your head against his warm chest, listening to his heartbeat and letting it remind you that he was right there with you.
"I would've waited for you, Buck," you murmured against his chest, "I would've written you letters and counted down the days until I got to see you again". Your promise hit Bucky strangely, reminding him that he never would've even gotten the chance to come home to you. He quickly swatted the thought from his mind, instead quietly singing along with the music:
"Remember it's my heart.
The heart with which so willingly I part.
It's yours to take to keep or break,
But please, before you start,
Be careful, it's my heart."
He crooned along with Sinatra until the song ended, being replaced with more crackling and popping sounds.
When the warmth of Bucky's body began to fade from your touch, you allowed your eyes to slowly flicker open.
Before you sat your living room-dark, empty, cold. The coffee table sat in its correct position- not shoved out of the way to make room for a dance floor- and there was no record player in the corner. The only light in the room came from the screen of the laptop that sat balanced on your thighs. Your hands remained frozen, poised over the keyboard and ready to type. The flickering of the cursor on your screen drew your attention as you read the last sentence of your fic over again:
"He crooned along with Sinatra until the song ended, being replaced with more crackling and popping sounds".
A sudden ache took root in your chest, filling you with a sense of loss, a sense of loneliness. It had felt so real- you could’ve sworn you were really there with Bucky, slow dancing in your living room. The emptiness you felt at his absence clawed at your heart and ripped it to shreds, leaving you hollow. Not only was this man not in your arms, he wasn’t even real. Something resembling grief took hold of you, as you yearned for the touch of a person you’d never meet. You mourned his smile, his gentle touch, his oceanic eyes, the way he held you close-
Only one thing could take the awful sensation away, and so you let your eyes close once again, diving back into the world in which you were Bucky's girl- the world that was all in your head.
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