Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I just don’t know what the protocol is for this.”

You laughed at Matt’s words, high and light, although your heart pounded in your chest. It was a dizzying high of nervousness mixed with anticipation.

“Like am I supposed to be talking you into this,” Matt continued, “or am I driving your getaway car?”

“You can’t drive.”

“You get the point.”

Natasha came to sit next to Matt, smoothing down her dress and taking a sip of her champagne. “I’ll drive the getaway car.”

You laughed again. “Why does there need to be a getaway car?”

“I’m just preparing for all possibilities,” Matt answered. “You didn’t exactly give me a job description when you asked me to be your maid of honour.”

“You’re my closest friend, besides the groom. It’s like an honourary title,” you explained. You said a thanks to Wanda as she handed you a glass of champagne, and she sat down in one of the empty chairs in the dressing room.

“I still think it’s a little awkward to have me as your maid of honour,” Matt said, adjusting his red-tinted glasses. “Because. Well you know.”

You took a sip of your champagne, shaking your head. “Bucky’s going to be Steve’s best man at Steve and Natasha’s wedding.”

Natasha nodded. Matt raised an eyebrow.

“So?”

“So, whatever relations we might have had before we ended up in our current relationships doesn’t matter. Especially when they didn’t mean anything,” you explained.

It took Matt a second to understand what you were talking about.

“Ah.”

You heard Wanda snort through her nose, and you looked over at her. “What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

You burst out laughing, surprised at her thoughts. “Wanda!” you exclaimed.

“You didn’t have to read my mind!” she defended herself.

Natasha leaned forward. “What did she say?”

You couldn’t stop the amused smile that had taken over your lips. “She was thinking that she’s the only person in this room who hasn’t slept with either the bride or the groom.”

Matt choked on his champagne while Natasha howled with laughter, and you joined her.

The past was the past. The only thing that mattered was now.

Today you would marry James Buchanan Barnes.

❤❤❤

The safest place to hold the wedding was on Genosha.

The island had been your home for the past two years. It took a lot of work to build it into the city it was now, and it was a long time before you could even call it that — but now the island prospered.

Things with the US government were still rocky. Half of the Avengers were still technically classified as war criminals (including your fiancé), which made Genosha the safest place for them. A large gathering of superheroes, both labelled war criminals and not, was a security risk and having the wedding anywhere else was just not a good idea.

As much as you wanted your wedding to be in Romania.

It was okay. It didn’t matter where you married Bucky. It didn’t matter where you two lived. As cheesy as it sounded, the only thing that mattered was that the two of you were together.

Because after everything you two had been through, that was the only thing you cared about. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with Bucky, wherever you were, whatever you were doing. So long as you two were together.

Holy fuck why were you suddenly so nervous right now.

“Your heart is beating really fast,” Matt whispered to you. Your grip around his arm tightened as he walked with you. “Do you need me to tell Natasha to start the getaway car?”

You hit his chest. “Would you stop it with the getaway car? I’m not getting cold feet. I just… .” You couldn’t describe how you were feeling. A million emotions at once. Anticipation and anxiety and excitement and all those things that made you buzz underneath your skin.

“You love him,” Matt offered you.

Gratefully, you took that, and you held onto it.

“I love him.”

❤❤❤

“Stop fidgeting.”

“Shut up.”

It was a beautiful day outside, warm and sunny and breezy with the area around them filled with flowers. But standing next to the altar, Bucky felt more nervous than he had ever had in his life, and Sam was not helping.

“Getting metal feet?” Sam quipped and Bucky refused to look at him, staring straight ahead.

“You’re not funny, you know.”

“Oh I’m hilarious. I just think Hydra erased your sense of humour.”

Knight in shining metal arm, the shared joke flitted through his mind, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The memory of Y/N, barely withholding her laughter, smiling at him in that way that made his heart feel light and unrestrained. He tried to hold onto that as some of the nervousness returned — that stupid, useless, unnecessary anxiety that came from who-knows-where and that he didn’t know how to dissipate.

“Everyone gets wedding day jitters,” Steve offered, and he clapped Bucky on the shoulder.

Bucky nodded, taking a sharp breath in. He looked over the guests, many chatting to each other as they waited.

He spotted Melita and Andrei Mikalos sitting near the middle. They smiled and waved at him, and he smiled back. It had been difficult explaining the truth to them —and not to mention a risk— but both Bucky and Y/N wanted so badly for them to be there. They reminded them of Romania, of their home of two years. The couple reminded them of the beginnings of their relationship, the moments they had when they were just starting to fall in love.

Mrs and Mr Mikalos took it as well as to be expected — there was confusion and disbelief at first, but eventually understanding. Most of all, after the destruction of their apartment by the authorities trying to take Bucky into custody, Mrs and Mr Mikalos were just glad that Bucky and Y/N were alive and safe.

In fact, the first time they had gone back to Romania to visit, Mrs Mikalos had opened the door and wept at the sight of them. She had hugged Y/N and then Bucky in a tighter embrace than he had thought her capable.

Bucky had proposed that night. They invited Mrs and Mr Mikalos the next day.

He smiled at the memory. He had been so nervous about asking her — he didn’t even know why he was ever afraid that she would say no. This was both something that they wanted and had wanted for a long time — even longer than they both realized, for a time.

Bucky had told Steve the truth about that during his bachelor party. It was a very simple, low-key party: just drinking with the guys and talking. At one point during the night, Steve had been going over his Best Man’s speech and asked Bucky if he could put a certain story from 1945 in it.

❤❤❤

“Hey, Buck,” Steve said as he had his notebook open and a pen in his hand. “I’m trying to write my speech for the wedding and I— Do you remember that time in 1945 when we were having that drink in that bar in —shit I can’t remember the name of the town but I think it was in Italy— Anyway, you went after this woman and danced with her for like fifteen minutes and came back like, ‘I’m gonna marry that girl’? You remember that?”

And Bucky did. Vividly. Intimately. More than he was sure Steve remembered of it. To Steve, that night was just one of many others, where his friend said something a bit out of the ordinary. To Bucky … it was the first time he had met the love of his life.

Bucky smiled. “Yeah. I remember.”

“Well, I thought about putting that story in the speech,” Steve went on. “Something about the first time you realized you were ready for marriage. ‘Cause, you know. You used to be kind of a ladies’ man.”

Sam laughed. “Bucky used to be a ladies’ man?”

Steve grinned. “Yeah, and he was good, too. All the girls loved him.”

Bucky scratched his head, a shy sort of smile on his face.

“This guy, Bucky, this guy had moves?” Sam asked with a laugh of disbelief. “This guy got game?”

“Well, actually, Steve…” Bucky began, “…that story goes a little differently than you remember.”

Steve’s head tilted. “What do you mean?”

He ran his hand through his hair. “That woman in the bar… . The woman I said I would marry… . That was Y/N.”

Sam shifted in his chair to face Bucky. “Wait, what?”

“What do you mean that was Y/N?” Steve asked, understandably confused.

“I mean that Y/N, in 2017, got into trouble with some Brotherhood members,” Bucky explained, “and a portal-maker sent her back in time to 1945. That’s where she met me. And I met her. For the first time.”

They all stared at Bucky. Then, finally, Steve broke the silence.

“Holy shit.”

“I know.”

“Hang on, hang on,” Sam said. “So in 1945 you met a woman and you said you were going to marry her. And then everything happened and seventy years passed. Then you found her again. Then more stuff happened. And now … you’re marrying the woman you said you were going to marry in 1945?”

Bucky nodded. “That’s about it.”

Sam shook his head, a smile on his face. Then he, to Bucky’s surprise, clapped Bucky on the shoulder. “You did good, man.”

Bucky smiled to himself as Sam sat back down. “Maybe he does got moves,” Sam added.

Steve shook his head with a smile, looking at Bucky. “The woman from the bar was Y/N… . You two really were made for each other, huh?”

Bucky shrugged. “Well, I don’t know about that. We just … fit together.”

Steve took a sip of his drink. “2017… . So she was meeting you when she already knew you.” His eyebrows knitted together. “But, wait— when in 2017?”

Bucky tapped his metal finger against his glass, the sound making a clink clink clink clink. “Before I found her again.”

His eyebrows rose. “She met you in ‘45 when she hadn’t seen you in almost a year?”

Bucky nodded. “She told me that she honestly thought that seeing me there would be the last time she would ever see me.”

Steve blew out a breath. “That must have been hard for her.”

“It was.”

Steve put his empty glass on the floor, then glanced back at the journal in his lap. He picked up the pen resting between the pages, and started writing.

❤❤❤

Music began to swell and Bucky’s heart rate jumped up again. Anxiety was replaced by anticipation as Bucky straightened his posture and looked to the back, where Y/N would be in just a few moments.

He was so goddamn ready to marry her.

Flower girls were first, followed by little Morgan Stark carrying the rings— with Pepper carrying her because she was only just over a year old. Pepper handed the rings to Steve, who gave Morgan a high five. Then Morgan made grabby hands at her father, who was standing up there with them.

That’s right. Tony Stark was officiating their wedding.

He had offered. And when he did, Bucky didn’t know how to feel at first. The two of them had a complicated history, and to be honest … Bucky wasn’t sure if Tony ever really forgave him.

But Tony had spent two years helping them build up Genosha, chipping in with money and resources and time and ideas. Bucky and him had gotten to know each other.

Offering to officiate Bucky’s wedding was a gesture.

A gesture that said everything. That meant everything.

Pepper handed Morgan off to Tony and all the other guests aww’ed as he held her.

The bridesmaids were next— Natasha and then Wanda behind her. Natasha came to stand next to Steve, and the two gave each other secret smiles that would have been totally obvious if Bucky hadn’t been otherwise preoccupied. Wanda took her place next to Sam, then the guests rose to stand.

It was like he got the wind knocked out of him.

For a moment, Bucky forgot how to breathe as Y/N came into his vision. It wasn’t that her hair or makeup or dress made her any more beautiful than she was every day. What made her more beautiful was her walking down that aisle, walking down to him— both with the knowledge that these were the first steps to the rest of their lives.

Hi, her mind whispered to his.

Hi, he whispered back.

And Bucky could feel the overwhelming emotion pool in his eyes as he finally took in the design of her wedding dress. It was completely strapless and sleeveless, her arms bare and the tattoos there on display for everyone to see. He had no doubt that the dress was also backless (which it was). If this was the dress she chose, Y/N wanted everyone to see the Phoenix inked into her skin, and to see all of it. She wasn’t hiding anymore. She didn’t have to hide anymore.

Your grip on Matt’s arm loosened as you finally saw him.

Bucky, standing at the front of the room. He looked as nervous as you felt, but something relaxed in him when he saw you. Steeled, even. Like he was more ready to marry you than he had ever been.

So were you, you decided.

A couple months ago, when Bucky had asked you to cut his hair, you weren’t sure about how it would look. If he would look different than the Bucky you knew. And he did look different— But as you walked down that aisle, you decided it was the best kind of different. Because Bucky wasn’t just your friend or your partner or your fiancé anymore. He was going to be your husband.

Hi, the whisper slipped from your mind to his, unable to wait until you were actually with him to speak.

Hi, came the reply, as tentative and full of anticipation as yours had been.

And as you saw the emotion in Bucky’s face as he took you in, the tears in his eyes, overwhelming emotion filled your own. He was sending you thoughts of your dress, your wedding dress that let everyone see the whole of your tattoo. The Phoenix on your back.

You had wrestled with the idea for a while. When you had first gone shopping for wedding dresses, there were so many that were sleeveless, or strapless, or backless. So many different dresses that would show off parts of your tattoo. And as you tried on a dress that completely covered all of that up, as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you finally decided that you didn’t want to hide it anymore. You didn’t want to hide from it. Didn’t want to hide from the world any longer.

So you wore your tattoo on your back proudly, although it terrified you, because you needed to take back what it meant to you. With the black bands around your wrists gone, you were no longer bound to a future that you could not control. The Phoenix was a part of you, and the danger had passed. You would own the tattoo not as something your mother and the Hellfire Club had forced on you, but as something you had chosen yourself. To save Bucky. To save everyone. To save yourself.

For love. Your connection with the Phoenix had been born out of love.

Let everyone see that, instead.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you finally joined your hands with Bucky’s, and you let it. Let the anticipation and emotion wash over you as you stared into the blue of his eyes and realized that this was it.

His thumbs stroked the back of your hands, although he took a moment to wipe a stray tear from his face and you did the same. A bright smile settled on your lips and a softer version of your own settled on his.

You weren’t even really hearing Tony saying the opening remarks. You were sure he was saying some kind of joke, because you dimly recognized the laughter that came from your guests. But all you were focused on was Bucky. And all he was focused on was you.

I gotta admit, Doll, Bucky’s voice whispered to your mind. I’m really nervous.

Me, too, you admitted back. I think that’s normal.

You look beautiful.

So do you.

No, I mean… . He inhaled. You took my breath away.

You inhaled a deep breath, too, so many swirling feelings in your chest. I want to marry you so much it hurts.

Good thing that’s what we’re doing here.

Your laughter carried silently through both your minds.

Then Tony turned it over to the two of you to exchange your vows. You had both agreed on the vows you would give and wanted to say them together. But first, you each had prepared something that you wanted to say to each other.

The two of you had decided that you would go first. Bucky squeezed your hands as you took another breath.

Then began.

“Sometimes, when I dream, I see all these different versions of us,” you started. It wasn’t a metaphor. The Phoenix let you see into worlds that were not your own, into different universes and timelines. “Versions of us that haven’t met.”

A version of Bucky spending time in Stark Tower, where Tony Stark had converted the building into a place for the Avengers to stay. They all lived there – Bucky, Steve, Tony, Natasha, Thor, Bruce, Clint. Bucky still struggled with nightmares and the things he had done.

A version of you, working as a specialized therapist for mutants. Using your telepathy to help people. In your dream, you saw a woman sitting across from you, a client who wanted her memories erased. She was bold and angry and self-medicating. You refused to erase her memories but offered to treat her, instead. It took some time, but she agreed. You helped her work through her trauma and thoughts of revenge. You helped her realize why killing a man named James Buchanan Barnes was not what she wanted, and would not make things better for her.

Ultimately it was her choice, but you had helped save his life without ever meeting him.

“Versions of us that bumped into each other briefly, only to go their separate ways.”

A version of the two of you in a bar. Bucky had saved you from a man who was annoyingly insistent on buying you a drink. The two of you talked for hours.

You moved to Washington the next morning.

“Versions of us that met later.”

A version of Bucky that had dealt with Thanos and being dead for five years before being brought back. A version of him that had court-mandated therapy and almost zero friends and was just trying to get by, day-to-day.

A version of you that had been the Phoenix for fifteen years. A version of you that felt the absence of the Infinity Stones and half of the people of the universe and it left you unstable. A version of you that went to the Hellfire Club for help, only to get turned into a weapon for five years, until half the population returned and you took your life back. Still unstable.

A version of you that had moved to a new apartment building because you had accidentally destroyed the last one.

You were Bucky’s new neighbour. One night, he found you on the rooftop, unable to sleep because of the nightmares. He had come up for the same reason. You bonded over nightmares and messy lives and not telling the other the huge secrets you both kept.

In one of your dreams, you stood in a bar in Madripoor with Bucky, Sam, and Helmut Zemo of all people. Bucky wore garb reminiscent of what Hydra made him wear as the Winter Soldier. You wore a backless, sleeveless dress, showing off your tattoo. Zemo called Bucky “Winter Soldier” and you “Phoenix”.

The two of you bonded over being living weapons, over being controlled by secret organizations that used you to hurt and kill and gain power.

“Versions of us that met in a different point in time.”

A version of you that had pissed off the wrong Brotherhood member. A version of you that got thrown through a portal and ended up in some kind of facility with Captain America and his best friend running around. A version of you from 2014 that ended up in the 1940s.

There was nothing you could do about being there, so you told them you were a medic and you joined Captain America when he created his Howling Commandos.

It was Bucky you grew closest with. Sitting outside with him by the fire, in the middle of the night when neither of you could sleep. You dreamed of the Hand — He dreamed of Zola experimenting on him.

At some point it became more between the two of you.

You knew about his future. You knew about the train and his death.

You tried to stop it.

Failed.

“Versions of us where the timing didn’t work.”

A version of you that was young, only seventeen years old. A version of you that went to school with Peter Parker. A version of you that became his friend. A version of you that found out that he was Spider-Man and got involved in that life.

You met Bucky Barnes when you met the Avengers. To him, you were the kid’s friend and nothing more.

A version of Bucky that didn’t fall off the train. A version of Bucky that mourned the death of his friend after the plane crash. A version of Bucky that lived a long and happy life.

A version of you that volunteered at an old-folks home.

The other volunteers and staff called him ‘James’, but he always told you to call him ‘Bucky’. Sometimes you’d sit for hours listening to his stories of war and Captain America and the Howling Commandos.

When he died, you went to his funeral and told those stories yourself.

“Versions of us still trying to save each other, even when things went wrong.”

A version of you that chose wrong. A version of you that chose to leave Bucky to protect him.

Thanos happened. Bucky died. You became the Phoenix, in a violent and grief-stricken way. The Hellfire Club spent five years carving you out so they could control you.

Everyone came back.

Bucky spent months trying to find you.

In your dream, Bucky stood in front of you, you with your glowing eyes and expression void of emotion, of anything. He tried to convince you of who you used to be. You told him that whoever that person was, that person did not live inside you anymore.

Someone fired a gunshot at him. You stopped the bullet without meaning to. Looked at your betraying hand and wondered why.

Maybe there was still a part of you left in there, somewhere.

“There are so many different versions of us. Good and bad.”

A version of you walking up from cryosleep in a Hydra facility in Siberia. A version of you that Hydra had captured a few years earlier, put in a facility with the other Winter Soldiers, and forgotten about you.

It was Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes who had rescued you when they found you there, amongst the Winter Soldiers, your file saying that you were something different from them.

You watched Iron Man come to fight Captain America and his friend. Watched Bucky lose his arm.

Lost control. Incapacitated Iron Man. Helped Captain America take Bucky from the facility.

Offered to help fix his mind.

A version of you that went to the Avengers for help when the Infinity Stones were destroyed and half the population left this … void, and the Phoenix raged inside you, making you an unstable thing.

You stayed at the Compound. Helped where you could. Spent most of your time in the power-dampening box that SHIELD had created once to deal with enhanced and mutant and inhuman people.

Five years later, when the Avengers had collected the Stones, you couldn’t help yourself. The Phoenix would not allow anyone else to handle them but you, but itself.

You took the Stones and snapped your fingers. Brought everyone back.

Unharmed as you were, you didn’t have the strength to fight when Thanos’s forces came.

Tony Stark was forced to use the Stones himself. And as he lay dying, you let the Phoenix’s power flow, and you saved his life.

Tony Stark rebuilt the Compound. You lived in it with Bucky and Wanda.

You had all lost things.

With the Stones gone once again, you were back to being an unstable mess, the void returned to claim you.

Bucky was trying to figure out who he was. Trying to figure out how to live a normal life again. How to reconcile for the things that he had done.

Wanda was grief as a person. Vision was gone, and she didn’t know how to handle his loss.

Somehow, the three of you living in that Compound managed. Leaned on each other. Found a way to … live again. Together.

A version of you that was taken to Sokovia like Alexander Pierce had promised you. A version of you that was experimented on by Strucker.

A version of the Winter Soldier that was ordered to go with you rather than go fight Steve Rogers.

He was ordered to keep the Weapon safe. To keep any unauthorized persons from touching you.

In your dream, a Hydra agent had gotten frustrated with you enough to hit you. The Soldier had clamped his metal hand around his neck and lifted him up against the wall. After he was ordered to let go and the agent was ordered to leave, you felt the Soldier’s eyes on you. Assessing you for injuries. He left your cell, then.

Came back with a packet of ice.

A version of you that was acquainted with Prince (then King) T’Challa. A version of you that was asked for help. A version of you that was asked to come to Wakanda to help a man whose memories had been broken, whose mind needed fixing and trigger words removed.

In your dream, you stayed in the hut next to James Buchanan Barnes. The children adored him and called him ‘White Wolf’. After a time, he asked you to call him ‘Bucky’.

You helped him with his mind, in the sun and the peace and the quiet of Wakanda.

You grew closer.

Then Thanos came and everything fell apart.

Another version of you from 2014 that was sent back in time. This version of you ended up in the 1980s.

You made a life for yourself. But then you helped one too many people— and unfortunately gained a reputation as a telepath that Hydra could not ignore. They forced you to work with them, lest you lose your life. For the people you interrogated for them, you tried to make it as quick and painless as possible.

The Winter Soldier was assigned to watch you, escort you, protect you, handle you. Watch you and escort you to make sure you didn’t escape; protect you to make sure no one deprived Hydra of their telepath. They regularly wiped the Soldier’s mind, but … you kept his memories for him, after that first time you had met. Although he wordlessly confronted you about it, he didn’t tell Hydra what you had done. You kept his memories for him every time they wiped him.

Priorities began to change. The Soldier began to put your safety above his missions.

In your dream, the Soldier had been injured, and you were helping patch him up. There was a closeness and intimacy there that was foreign territory for you both.

Finally, he said, “I’m going to get you out of this.”

You couldn’t let him. You knew Hydra would punish him for it. Worse, they would wipe his memories for real and he would be back to square one.

You told him to come with you. That the two of you would run, together.

You spent the night with each other.

Intimately.

The plan was meant to work. You were both meant to escape.

But someone had noticed. Someone had noticed how the Soldier’s priorities changed.

Hydra deemed you a liability. They couldn’t have someone influencing their Asset and undermining their conditioning tactics.

The next time they took the Soldier for a memory wipe, they came for you while he was gone. Stuck a needle in your neck. Knocked you out. Threw you in a cryo-chamber.

They successfully wiped the Soldier’s mind. Then they sent him to kill Howard and Maria Stark.

You woke up twenty-seven years later. The world was new and damaged.

You wondered what happened to the Soldier.

Bucky wondered what happened to you, too.

“But I am so lucky that this is the version that I got.”

The version of the two of you that met in an unfortunate way, but made the best of it by helping each other. The version of the two of you that ran to Romania and hid there. The version of you that helped piece Bucky’s memories back together. The version of Bucky that was slow to open up to you, and the version of you that was slow to open up in return. The version of the two of you that found ways to connect to each other. The version of the two of you that found comfort in each other at night; the version of the two of you that stopped each other’s nightmares. The version of Bucky that fell in love with you first. The version of the two of you that explored each other’s trauma. The version of the two of you that saw the worst of each other. The version of the two of you that accepted the other anyway. The version of Bucky that traced your tattoos and scars; the version of you that traced his own; the version of the two of you that found a way to undo the trauma inflicted on the other. Maybe not undo it all the way, but start to heal.

The version of the two of you that got separated. The version of you that had to live without Bucky for almost a year. The version of Bucky that had to live without you for almost a year. The version of you that grappled with your feelings for Bucky, when you didn’t know if you’d ever see him again. The version of you that discovered the terrible truth of your future and how Bucky was involved. The version of you that refused to admit that you loved him because somehow you thought that distancing yourself from him would save his life.

The version of the two of you that reunited, that hugged each other so tightly you thought you would never breathe again and it didn’t matter. The version of you that finally accepted that you loved him. The version of you that almost left because of it. The version of you that chose to stay, to tell Bucky the truth about everything. The version of you that finally admitted that you loved him — the version of Bucky that kissed you and kissed you and kissed you and told you that he loved you, too.

The version of you that became the Phoenix out of love, to save Bucky, to save everyone. The version of you that stopped Thanos and the terrible future. The version of you that created Genosha and provided mutants and anyone else who wanted a safe place to live their lives.

The version of you that almost died. The version of you that didn’t die. The version of you that unbound yourself.

The version of the two of you, living happily together, building up Genosha.

The version of the two of you here, now, at your wedding.

The version of the two of you that loved each other and that was enough.

Bucky’s hands squeezed yours, and you smiled widely at him through the shallow pools resting in your eyes, tears of joy and overwhelming love. “To be honest…” you continued, “…I never thought I’d get here. I never thought I’d get to stand here, with someone like you, that I love so much, in front of all of my friends, and family,” the family that you chose, “and get to tell all of them … how much I love you.”

Bucky’s own blue eyes were filling with tears again. He smiled at you though he was trying not to cry, trying not to let the emotion completely overwhelm him. And though he was failing, the brightness that you felt inside for him radiated throughout you and you shared that with him.

Relief bubbled up from inside you as you made your next admission. “I get to plan a future with you. You are my future. I don’t know what that future might hold, and I don’t care. It doesn’t matter. I don’t want it all planned out. I just want to live it with you.” You inhaled. Focused on the blue of his eyes and the watery smile on his face and let it ground you. “James Buchanan Barnes. Our love was not love at first sight. Far from it. But you saved me. In so many different ways. You saved my life, more times than I can probably count. You saved the person that I am. When I wanted to be anything but myself, you looked at me, and you loved me, for everything that I am, all the good, and the bad, and the terrible.”

Bucky’s thumbs brushed over the backs of her hands, soothing over the memories. In that moment, more than anything else he just wanted to hug her. Squeeze her body as tightly as she needed it, and let her hold him back as tightly as he needed it.

“Unapologetically, you saw me,” she continued. “All of me. And I saw you. This person who was so like me. Who knew my pain. Who understood it.”

Bucky did. More than anyone else, he knew her pain because it was a pain that he had experienced for himself. And she understood his pain in return.

“And I know it took me a long time to realize what I felt for you. But I’m here now. And I love you more than words can say.” She smiled at him and he smiled back, that fluttering in his heart returning.

I love you, too, he whispered to her mind. I love you so damn much.

You squeezed his hands as his expression became nervous again. Bucky reached in his pocket to pull out a sheet of paper, his hands shaking a bit. You kissed the top of his knuckles of the hand still in yours, eliciting a small laugh from Bucky and awws from your guests.

“The first first time that I met you,” he began, “was love at first sight.”

A memory that Bucky projected to you. Of 1945 from his point of view — seeing you and bumping into you and being absolutely enamored with you.

“I saw you across a crowded bar and danced with you and told Steve that I was gonna marry you.”

Bucky, a little breathless, his heart hammering in his chest as he spoke the words,

“I’m gonna marry that girl.”

“The second first time that I met you was not love at first sight. I didn’t remember who you were. I didn’t remember anything. You hadn’t even met me yet. Because the first first time that I met you was not the first time that you met me.” Bucky looked out toward the guests, then. “That’s, uh, some complicated time travel stuff that happened. What a world we live in, huh?” Laughter rang out, most notably from those who had first hand experience with the weirdness that came with superheroes and aliens and enhanced people and mutants. Bucky looked back at his notes, the paper crinkling in his hand. He found his place again. Sometimes he’d read directly from the page, and sometimes he’d look at you. “But,” he continued, “the first time you met me, you saw what I was. Maybe not who I was, but … that I was lost. That I was alone. That I needed help, even though I’d never say it.”

Bucky stood in the Smithsonian, looking at the image of himself, an image that he did not recognize, with the name ‘James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes’ attached to it. That wasn’t him. It looked like him, and maybe at one point that was supposed to be him, but… .

He didn’t know who he was. And he didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing now. He didn’t even know how he was supposed to feel. Happy that he left Hydra? Grieving the loss of a life he had never known? Angry for what had been done to him? He didn’t completely understand that, either. There were so many gaps, and things were coming back too slowly. He still barely understood who Steve Rogers was and what he meant to him. He knew he meant something to him. He had felt it. And the Smithsonian was saying they had been friends since they were young.

But reading about something and knowing something were two very different things.

What was he supposed to do next? Find Steve Rogers? He could. But he still didn’t know him.

Hydra would want him back. And nearly anywhere else he’d be considered a criminal for the things he’d done. Things he … didn’t even remember.

That made him feel… .

He was still trying to remember how to feel. What emotions were like. He couldn’t even put names to what he was feeling. Or if he was feeling anything at all.

He wondered what happened to the woman in that cell.

He couldn’t decide if he cared or not. Couldn’t figure out if he was supposed to care or not.

Was curiosity the same as caring? Was guilt the same as caring?

He couldn’t tell if that’s what it was. If he was feeling any of that.

Was emotionlessness easier? Was not feeling easier?

Being free was a good thing.

But he didn’t know what he was supposed to do next.

A woman came to stand next to him. You came to stand next to him. Even though he didn’t look at you, he realized who you were.

A little voice inside his mind said, Oh. It’s you.

He didn’t like that little voice. Because he was still struggling to figure out what to feel. How he felt. He didn’t like the little voice because it was him. And he didn’t know who that was yet.

“Looks like you didn’t need my help after all.” His voice still sounded foreign to his own ears.

“I did,” you said. “I shouldn’t’ve had to do that. Now Hydra knows for sure what I am. Now they’ll never stop chasing me.”

He didn’t want to look at you. He didn’t know how to … empathize yet. He said, “What do you think would’ve happened if they had decided that you weren’t who they thought you were? I know you’re not naïve enough to think that they would’ve let you go.” If you were that naïve then you were a fool. Hydra was merciless. It was that that he knew with an absolute certainty.

“If it meant that they wouldn’t have made me hurt anyone, then I could’ve lived with that.”

“No, you wouldn’t have.” He finally looked at you. You were hugging yourself, your eyes on the ground. He needed to make you understand this. “Because they would have killed you. Because Hydra doesn’t leave loose ends.”

He didn’t know why he needed to make you understand that.

When you looked at him, he looked back to the exhibit. Something about eye contact … he couldn’t bear it. Your eyes looking into his, like he was a person… .

He didn’t know how to be a person. He didn’t know how to feel like a person.

He focused on the picture of Bucky Barnes, instead. Stood in a silence that felt like forever.

How was he going to do this? …Live his life?

“My second day in the city I visited the Smithsonian,” you said. “I visited this exhibit.” He could feel your eyes on him. “I knew you looked familiar somehow.”

Why were you still here? “What do you want from me?”

“Let me help you. I can fix your memories, put them back together. I’m not saying it would be easy, or quick, but I could do it.”

He finally looked back at you. Looked you in the eyes and tried not to balk from it. He didn’t understand you. He didn’t understand why you were here. “Why would you help me?”

You shrugged. “Would you believe me if I said I’m doing it out of the goodness of my heart?”

No.

He’d been making his own choices for less than a day, but even he knew that nobody would do that. Why would anyone? Everyone always wanted something. Hydra always wanted something.

A sigh left your mouth. “Fine. If you need a reason so badly then how about this: Hydra knows what I am now. I can’t afford to let them catch me again; I won’t let them catch me again. I need you to help me run from them. Don’t forget, Hydra is probably looking for you, too. We go on the run together; you keep Hydra from capturing me and I piece your memories back together.”

He looked back at the exhibit because he couldn’t handle the way you held his gaze any longer.

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He had no plan. He wanted to come here, to the Smithsonian, to see the exhibit on Captain America and himself and… . Then what? He was free, free from Hydra, but he didn’t know what to do with that freedom.

But.

You were offering his memories back. The thing that he was missing. That he didn’t know if he could put together by himself.

Memories. Real memories. Of his life. Of who he was. Of Steve Rogers. He could still remember the tears in his own eyes and the overwhelming mix of feelings that hit him like a freight train when Steve Rogers had said, “‘Cause I’m with you ‘till the end of the line.” The recognition there. The flip that switched in his head.

You were offering him a chance. To figure out who he was.

He didn’t know how to feel about you. He didn’t know you. He still didn’t really understand why you wanted to help him. Especially when he didn’t help you.

But Hydra wanted you. He knew what that felt like. You wanted to stay out of Hydra’s hands as much as he did.

You were offering an exchange. His memories for protection from Hydra.

Why you would trust him to protect you… .

That felt strange. That felt wrong. He didn’t feel like the kind of person you trust.

But he needed his memories. He needed his memories more than anything else.

So he needed you.

“Okay.”

“You offered to put me back together, when I was broken, when I didn’t know how to fix myself,” Bucky continued. “You looked at this person that had been made into a weapon, and you weren’t afraid. You decided that I was worth helping. You decided that I was worth saving. That I was worth more than what I had been made into. You helped me figure out who I am. And part of that is who I used to be, but part of it something new. Something you helped create. I am who I am because of you. I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you for that.”

You squeezed his hands when he looked at you, and you shook your head.

You already have, you told him. Just being with me.

Bucky smiled at you, then took a pause as he looked back through his notes, and his smile widened when he found his place.

“And then I fell in love with you, and that was a completely different ballpark,” Bucky said and you laughed along with some of the guests. “I just knew, then and now, that you are everything that’s good in my world.” You took a deep breath in, that swirling, overwhelming emotion returning to settle in your chest. “And I didn’t know … how to handle being in love with you. I didn’t want to scare you off. I didn’t want to lose you, because you were the most important thing in my life. I loved you, and I love you, with everything that I have. And I would have stayed with you in that apartment in Romania for the rest of my life, if you would have had me.”

I would have, you whispered to him.

“But I’ll follow you anywhere you want to go,” he continued, his smile growing. “Because when you look at me, you don’t see a weapon or a soldier or something irreparable. You just see me. Like I see you.”

You wiped away a few tears that had left your eyes. Even Bucky had to pause to collect himself.

“We both have scars.” He put his notes back in his pocket. Took his metal hand and ran his fingers up and down the ink on your hand and wrist and arm. The hand and arm that had caused him so much pain; the tattoo that had caused you so much pain. It didn’t feel like pain, now. It felt like love. “And things we have to heal from. But we’ll do that together. We have the rest of our lives to.”

You really, really wanted to kiss him, then.

Bucky really, really wanted to kiss her, too.

But now it was time for their vows. They had come up with them together, things that they wanted to promise each other. He squeezed Y/N’s hands for the thousandth time and she squeezed his hands back.

They looked into each other’s eyes, and said it together.

“I promise to always tell you the truth, especially when the truth is hard.” All the things the Winter Soldier had done. All the things Y/N had done. Y/N’s truth about the future and the Phoenix. Finally admitting to each other that they were in love with the other. Impossible things to say out loud, but they did it. And they would continue to do it.

Trust in this relationship. Trust in your partner.

“I promise never to run away when things get difficult; whatever I face, we face it together.” There was a time when you considered running to save Bucky’s life. Because you thought it would save Bucky’s life. The Phoenix showed you what would have happened if you had, and it was the terrible future that Irene Adler had put into Tony Stark’s head. No matter what, neither of you should make the decision to deal with things on your own.

You are stronger together than you are alone.

“And I promise to see you, and only you, as you see me.” Even as Bucky held your hand with the metal of his left arm. The vibranium that was a reminder of his time as the Winter Soldier. When you looked at it, you didn’t see that. Just an arm. Just Bucky’s arm.

Even as Bucky looked into Y/N’s faintly gold-ringed eyes. The reminder of the being that lived inside her, the Phoenix that chose her as its Host. When Bucky found her gaze, he didn’t see that. Just her eyes. Just her eyes that looked into his and only reminded him why he loved her.

It had been Bucky who added this one. He knew that even after two years, looking in the mirror and seeing those gold rings still made Y/N a bit anxious.

“It terrifies me,” she had confessed that night she had told him the truth, the whole truth, about the Phoenix, “and I can’t even imagine what it would be like … to be on the outside, to look into someone’s eyes and know that one day … that will be staring back at you.”

“All I see is you.” That’s what he told her. And that’s what he wanted to make sure that she knew. That’s what he wanted to promise her. And have her promise to him in return.

Because when Bucky looked at Y/N, he just saw the person that he loved. And he knew that’s what she saw when she looked at him, too.

When they had said their vows, Tony gestured to Steve. “The rings?” He shifted Morgan to his other side. “You didn’t lose them already, right?”

Steve chuckled and handed one of the rings to you, and one of the rings to Bucky.

“With this ring,” Bucky said as he took your left hand in his and slid the golden band onto your finger, “I choose you to be my wife.”

Your heart and eyes filled as he did so, and the happiness that you felt was indescribable. You took his left hand. “With this ring,” you said, slipping the specially-made-for-metal-hand golden band onto his finger, “I choose you to be my husband.”

Bucky’s eyes crinkled as his face broke into his widest smile yet, a laugh of relief leaving his lips, as if he couldn’t believe it. You laughed, too, unable to believe it yourself.

Tony grinned. “By the power vested in me, by the Council of Genosha that granted me this power that I will totally not abuse in the future, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You two can kiss now.”

Eagerly, Bucky cupped your face and brought your lips to his, sealing the bond between you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and barely heard the clapping and cheering from the guests. All you could hear, all you could feel, all you could understand was Bucky. Bucky with his hands on you, Bucky kissing you, Bucky becoming your husband.

Your husband.

Bucky was your husband.

When he finally pulled away, he pressed his forehead to yours, eyes still closed.

And you’re my wife, he whispered back to you, and you smiled, opening your eyes again.

You met his blues and he grinned at you.

❤❤❤

You closed your eyes and tried to breathe properly.

You were sitting in a chair in front of all your guests, with Bucky kneeling in front of you. With his hands on your legs and his head under your dress.

The garter toss was a strange tradition, indeed.

You had done the bouquet toss just before. When you had thrown the flowers over your head, it landed in the hands of the girl that Peter Parker had brought with him. His face had gone scarlet, and some of the guests aww’ed. The girl acted like it didn’t matter, although you could tell she was secretly pleased.

And now the garter toss. The garter toss was the male version of the bouquet toss — same idea, whoever caught the garter would be the next to get married. Bucky explained that people used to think the bride’s dress was lucky, so they would try and rip a strip of it off for themselves. The garter was meant to be a piece of the dress that you could give out, and therefore solved the whole dress-ripped-into-pieces-by-the-guests thing.

You were more interested in the part where the groom had to remove the garter, a belt that went around your thigh, either with his hands or with his teeth.

You wanted to see if he could even do it.

Well. He was doing it.

You could feel his breath on your inner thigh. His voice spoke in your mind, You doin’ alright up there?

I’m trying not to tangle my fingers in your hair.

Bucky’s grip tightened on your leg at the insinuation. He pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh in response.

Your eyes flew open, trying to keep your composure in front of all your guests, and you swear you heard Bucky chuckle. Then your garter was slipping down your leg, down until Bucky’s head surfaced from under your dress, the fabric trapped between his teeth. He kept going until he got the garter over your foot and finally off you.

Guests raised drinks and cheered, and you heard loud laughter from some of them.

Bucky took the garter from his mouth, turned around, and tossed it behind his back.

It was Vision who caught it. Wanda grinned next to him, half-covering her face in his arm from embarrassment. He smiled back, a little confused by the tradition, but happy to see her happy.

Bucky looked back at you with a large grin, and you shook your head at him. He ran back over and pressed a big kiss to your cheek, leaving you giggling.

❤❤❤

“How’s your food?” Bucky whispered into your ear. The two of you sat at the front with the rest of the wedding party, where everyone could see you.

You gave him a strange and amused look. What are you doing? We can literally talk to each other without speaking, you don’t need to do the secret whispering thing.

He leaned back over to your ear. “Yeah, but this looks cuter.”

You pulled back to look at him, then looked out at your guests. Some of them were indeed looking, amused and adoring at the groom whispering to his bride.

You leaned in close to him. “You’re such a dork.”

His eyes crinkled as he smiled and you smiled back at him.

But you know what’s cuter than whispering to each other? you asked, finding his eyes and staying there.

What’s that? he replied, his blues not leaving you.

Having a telepathic conversation where it looks like we’re just getting lost in each other’s eyes.

Bucky laughed through his nose when he realized what you were doing. Then, for a moment, there was silence between you as you really stared at each other, unable to break the other’s gaze.

Until Bucky’s eyes dipped down to your mouth. Then he smiled and looked away, his nose scrunching and eyes crinkling as he laughed.

Clinking came from the other side of Bucky and he forced himself to turn toward it, to tear away his attention from Y/N. He wrapped his arm around her instead.

His wife.

Bucky found himself smiling all over again.

Steve was clinking his spoon against his glass. The room fell silent.

“I met Bucky when I was twelve years old. I was fighting some bullies in an alleyway—”

Bucky served his friend a sharp look. “Fighting?” he interrupted.

“Okay, okay,” Steve conceded, “I was getting beaten up by some bullies in an alleyway. And Bucky, who was walking by, saw this scrawny, stubborn kid who wouldn’t stay down and he helped him. He’s my best friend, and my brother. I love ya, buddy.”

“Get on with it or I’m gonna cry,” Bucky said, only half kidding.

Steve chuckled and checked the notes in his journal before continuing. “Along with being my best friend, Bucky was also quite the ladies’ man.”

Bucky covered his face with his hand and Y/N laughed. The smooth-talking tendencies of the person he used to be was never something that came back to the person he was now, and he never understood the ease he used to have when it came to women and relationships.

It didn’t matter now, anyway. He had his person.

Didn’t make it any less embarrassing, though.

Steve continued, “He always had a girl on his arm— sometimes two.” Oh, kill me now. “And he seemed like the kind of guy who was never gonna settle down. But then, one day, in 1945, in a bar overseas, we were talking about the future and marriage and he said to me … that he wanted that.”

Y/N found Bucky’s hand on the table.

“He said that he wanted to settle down,” Steve went on, “and have kids and grow old with someone. Now, hang on, because this is where the story starts getting good. After we finished our conversation, Bucky looked out into the crowd, and his eyes caught on something. He set down his drink without a second word and strode across the dance floor, like a man on a mission. When I spotted him next he was dancing with a woman, and I didn’t really think much about it because, like I said, ladies’ man.”

Bucky shook his head and Y/N laughed again.

“But then he came back.” Steve paused for dramatic effect. “And he said, he said to me, ‘I’m gonna marry that girl’.”

Bucky looked over at Y/N to give her a smile, only to find her already looking at him with a smile of her own.

“Now,” Steve said, “if you were paying attention earlier, you know where this is going. But just in case you weren’t, here’s where the story gets really interesting. Seventy-five years pass. It’s a few nights ago at Bucky’s bachelor party. I ask him if I can put this story in my Best Man’s speech, because it’s the first time he told me he had an interest in getting married, and it’s a good story even though he’s not marrying that woman from the bar. And then he tells me, ‘Well I’ve been meaning to tell you something. The woman from the bar … is Y/N.” Steve looked to her as he said it, and she smiled back at him. “Y/N had gotten thrown back in time to 1945 and somehow, someway, she ended up in the same place as Bucky. She had known him for two years at that point. And Bucky just met her, but he already knew he wanted to marry her. And y’know what? He was a pretty good judge of character.” Steve gave Y/N a smile. “The thing is … when Y/N ended up in 1945, she hadn’t seen Bucky for a year.”

You gave a shaky inhale at the reminder. Bucky’s thumb stroked your arm, and you leaned into him.

Steve continued, “She didn’t think she was ever going to see him again. So seeing Bucky in 1945 must have been so difficult for her. Bucky told me that she thought that seeing him there was the last time that she would ever see him.”

You nodded with a watery expression and Bucky squeezed you tighter to him.

Steve made a point to look at you as he spoke. “But thankfully she was wrong. Because she did find him again. And now they’re married.”

You gave a watery laugh and Bucky rubbed your arm.

Steve smiled. “How I met Y/N is not important to the story. What is important is what came after. I met her five years ago but I didn’t really get to know her until the past two years. And I’m really glad that I got the chance to know you, Y/N. You’re already like a sister to me. Now you’re my family.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with more tears and even Bucky felt a little choked up in his throat.

“To Bucky and Y/N,” Steve said, raising his glass. Everyone else did, too. “Buck, seventy-five years ago, you said you were gonna marry her. You did it. I love you guys.”

There was more clinking of glasses and cheering when Steve was done, and Bucky had to get up to hug him. Both Bucky and Steve had to wipe tears from their eyes and they laughed and Y/N got up to hug Steve as well.

It was the happiest Bucky had ever been.

It was the happiest you had ever been, too.

And it was just the beginning.

❤❤❤

It was the late, late hours of the night and you and Bucky were finally heading home. It had been a long and fun wedding reception, but the two of you needed to be well-rested to leave for your honeymoon tomorrow.

You were being driven home by Tony’s wedding present, and actual car with the F.R.I.D.A.Y. A.I. programmed into it. It proved useful tonight since neither of you were sober enough to get behind the wheel. Not that you were wasted, just too tipsy to drive safely.

Thor had brought special Asgardian alcohol with him that allowed Bucky and Steve to actually get drunk. It was the first time you had ever seen Bucky like that. It was hilarious. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you wanted to look at it) his super soldier metabolism was working just fine, so he wasn’t as drunk as he was anymore.

The car missed the turn to your apartment.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” you murmured. “You’re going the wrong way.”

“This is the way I was programmed to go,” came the female Scottish accent. You sighed and leaned forward to do something about it, when Bucky pulled you back.

“Why don’t we see where it takes us?” he said.

You stared at him, the beginnings of a smile on your lips. “What did you do?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You sat up, suddenly more awake. The car continued down the road, then finally stopped when it reached some houses.

Stopped in front of one house in particular.

It was a tiny house but lovely, with stonework and a chimney and pretty windows. It looked like the kind of house you would live in if you came from a fairy tale— like Snow White and the Seven Dwarves or Sleeping Beauty with her Fairy Godmothers.

Bucky got out of the car and walked around it to open your door. He held out his hand and helped you out.

“What is this place?” you asked him.

Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out something that he pressed into your palm.

It was a key.

“It’s ours,” he said.

You looked at him with wide eyes. “Really?”

He nodded, looking a bit nervous.

Then you smiled and threw your arms around him. Bucky hugged you tightly to him and you kissed him with your hand still wrapped around that key.

“Do you like it?” he asked when he finally let go of you.

“I love it.”

Bucky grinned and picked you up, literally bridal style, and began carrying you up the path to the door.

He gestured with his head to the house next door, just a little ways down the road. “That one is going to be Steve and Nat’s.”

“Really?” you said with a smile.

Bucky nodded. “They just finalized it yesterday.”

You were glad. You knew it would make Bucky very happy to have his best friend so close.

When you got to the door, you fit the key in the lock and turned it. Bucky toed it open, then carried you over the threshold.

❤❤❤

“You’re my husband,” you whispered to Bucky as you lay naked next to him in the dark, your eyes only half open. His chest rumbled as he laughed softly. “I can’t stop saying that. You’re my husband.”

Bucky kissed you then, his hand cupping your cheek.

And you’re my wife, he said to your mind. “I can’t stop saying that, either,” he added aloud when he finally pulled away.

“We should sleep,” you whispered, drawing circles on his bare chest. “We have plans tomorrow.”

“But you’re my wife,” Bucky said, his mouth dipping to your neck and giving it a wet kiss there. You giggled and tangled your fingers in his hair.

He pulled up again, this time just taking a moment to look at you.

Her eyes seemed to glow in the dark.

Bucky kissed you softly, briefly, then whispered, “Is there anything you want to do when we get back? I know you said you didn’t want the future all planned out, but… . Do you want to make plans with me?”

You stroked your thumb over his cheek. “…There’s an empty room in this house,” you said.

He swallowed. “Yeah, there is.”

You took a breath. “Do you want to make it not empty with me?”

The smile Bucky gave you then was a little bit nervous, but more than anything it was happy. “Yeah. I do.”

You kissed him.

This wasn’t the end of your story with Bucky. There would be good times and difficult times and everything in between. Things you would have to face and deal with and still learn from. But all of that, you would do together.

You loved Bucky Barnes, and he loved you. And the rest of your life was open to you both.

The End