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"Everything is going to be ok."
He couldn't block out the voice. His heart ached at the distant whisper in his head, telling him not to worry, that they'll make it out together like they always do.
The mission was different.
Like all of their missions, there was no extraction plan for him and Steve. They could handle themselves, they always did. It wasn't like they hadn't done something like this before, either. Find one of the many hidden HYDRA bases, collect any useable information, destroy the base. Easy.
Except they didn't get a complete head count on all of the men inside the base. Both him and Steve scoped the place out, eliminating any dangers that lie in their path and continuing their silent journey to complete their mission.
Bucky didn't see the guy, didn't realize what his senses were screaming at him until it was too late. He knew he should have done the headcount of men inside the base himself, shouldn't have trusted someone from SHIELD who could have, and had, made the mistake of miscounting. That mistake cost him the life of his best friend.
When Steve told him everything would be alright, it wasn't because there was an explosion and they were trapped somewhere. It wasn't because he had a breakdown while trying to complete their mission. Steve had been shot, straight through the heart, and was trying to comfort Bucky as he furiously tried to stop the bleeding.
"It's ok, Buck."
He only shook his head, there was no way he could tell Steve to shut the hell up, that he'll patch him up and get him somewhere safe. If he tried to utter a word, he knew his sobs would be the only thing leaving his mouth. Crying in front of Steve wouldn't help either of them, so he kept his mouth sealed shut and pressure on the wound, biting the inside of his cheek to keep the tears away.
"Bucky," Steve whispered, his his breathing coming out in short breaths, "Darcy. Please, keep her safe. Make sure she knows I'm sorry-"
"Damn it, Steve! Don't you talk that way to me, you hear?" Bucky hissed. "I ain't tellin' Darcy anything because your dumbass is coming home with me and telling her you're sorry for even thinking I would let you go."
"Bucky," Steve gripped his wrist (Bucky refused to think about how weak his grip was becoming), "Don't blame yourself. Please. I love you, both of you. Don't forget that. Everything is going to be ok."
He watched the light leave his best friends eyes. He'd seen it before, but never felt the pain, the anger, of watching a loved one die in front of him.
"I just got you back..." He whispered, "Steve, I just got you back!"
Bucky knew he had to be the one to tell her. He had to tell his girl that their lover, their Steve, wasn't coming home. He knew she would suspect something when he'd come home alone, come home without the big lug smiling and clapping a hand on his back as he jokingly scolded him for doing something reckless during the mission. Darcy wouldn't receive the bone-crunching hug that had always washed away any worry she had for her boys while they were away, and wouldn't receive the sweet, desperate kiss Steve would give her, letting her know they were ok.
He opened the door to their apartment, seeing her curled up on the couch reading a book as she waited for their return. When she looked over at him, the welcome-home smile she always wore was swept away with a furrowing of her brow. She didn't say anything. Setting her book down on the couch, Darcy slowly walked over to where Bucky stood, still in the doorway, and began to shake her head. He didn't have to say anything because it was written all over his face. He hadn't made it.
Tears gathered in her eyes, her's never leaving his, and when her knees buckled underneath her, he was there to catch her. "No!" Darcy wailed, trying, and failing, to shove Bucky away from her.
Maybe if he didn't comfort her...if he didn't comfort her, then it wasn't true. Maybe he wasn't really gone...
Bucky sat on the floor, Darcy curled around him on his lap, sobbing into his shoulder, not believing that Steve, their Steve, was really gone. At that moment, Bucky let go as well. Tucking his head into the crook of her neck, he mourned the loss of their friend, their love.