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War was always going to be a nightmare, but Steve never expected it to be like this. This was worse than anything his brain could conjure up, every worst case scenario came to life in the most awful, impossible way.
He thought he still had time.
He came so far, as fast as he could, breaking down any rule or anybody who had thought to have gotten in his way. He was meant to be big enough to stand up to bullies now, to stop the bad things from happening.
He was too late.
Bucky grinned at him, slow and assessing as he looked Steve up and down. “Didn’t you used to be smaller?”
“Didn’t you used to be alive?” Steve felt the words slip out before he could stop himself, fear and grief needing answers.
“You were definitely smaller before,” Bucky said instead, tilting his head slightly as he grinned.
“Bucky,” Steve asked again, needing an answer to explain his own madness.
Bucky was always helpless when it came to Steve Rogers and he ducked his head to look down at his feet before he answered. “I’m sorry, Stevie.”
“I should be the one saying that, I should have gotten here faster, maybe I could have been able to stop it.”
Bucky shook his head and looked at Steve. “I’ve been dead a long time,” he admitted with a small shrug. “There wasn’t anything you would have been able to do, sweetheart.”
“I should have been…”
“Steve. It’s okay.”
Steve finally stopped and looked at Bucky properly. He was still in his uniform, splattered in blood, dark circles around his eyes and new scars on his arms and chest. If it wasn’t for the fact that his eyes lacked the usual spark of life that Steve loved, or the way that Bucky was standing over his own body, it might not have been instantly obvious that he wasn’t alive.
“Buck, how are you here?”
“Was waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
“Waitin’ for you, ya punk. Did you lose brain cells when you gained body mass, hmm?”
“You were waiting for me?”
“Course I was, you thought death would stop me from being by your side? Hells no, Stevie, I ain’t letting you have all the fun.”
Steve almost cracked a smile at that, as impossible as this whole thing was. Bucky had stayed for him and that was a comfort Steve sorely needed. He looked from the Bucky that was talking to the Bucky on the table and felt his heart split in two all over again.
“I don’t want to leave you here,” Steve admitted, reaching over and running his fingers through Bucky’s hair. He felt Bucky walk over to him and hold his shoulder but it felt vacant. Steve knew that Bucky was there, knew that he was comforting him the best he could, but although the feeling was there the actual pressure of someone else’s hand wasn’t.
“Steve, I won’t be the only person who didn’t come home.”
“I still can’t leave you here. You deserve to come home,” Steve said but he was still looking at the body.
“So what, you’re just going to drag my body out of here while rescuing everyone? How do you think you’re gonna manage that one?” Bucky’s voice was laced with just enough teasing to keep Steve sane, but there was enough protectiveness for him to listen to it. Bucky did have a good point. If Steve stopped to carry dead weight it would slow him down and potentially get himself killed.
But it was Bucky.
“Come on, punk, you cannot be serious about this,” Bucky complained as Steve lifted the body gently into his arms.
“And you can’t be a ghost but here we are. I’m getting you home and that’s the end of it.”
“You are one stubborn sonofabitch,” Bucky said in the way that always sounded like I love you.
“Yeah and what are you going to do about it?” Steve asked as he started to walk away.
“Gonna keep you safe.”
“You’re a ghost dumbass, how are you going to manage that?”
“I’ll think of something. But I am not letting anything happen to you, not now, not ever.”
“So what, are you just going to haunt me for the rest of my life?” Steve checked.
“Till the end of the line, pal.”
“I think I can live with that.”
Maybe Steve could live with the nightmares after all, especially when the nightmares had his back and made sure he got home in one piece.