Chapter Text
John
The cold grasp of the void yanks them all apart. John feels it tear their fragile team apart before throwing them back together, the darkness gives away to the familiar navy blue walls, and his head spins as every detail of his personal hell is put on display.
“Damn, I did not like that,” He hears Ava next to him but it's distant because he’s back there again, a place he once used to call home. The rest of the team chatter but he doesn’t listen, instead he follows the familiar path from the front door to the kitchen. There at the table he sits, one bottle of vodka in his hand, and divorce papers sitting in front of him.
The plant sitting on the table is dead. There are no dishes in the sink because the last time he ate was three days ago, and the house is so silent .
“Walker, we need to- oh.” There comes Barnes around the corner, of course it would be him. He gets to watch one of his lowest points in his life, and it probably pleases him.
He hears the rest of the group join them and they are all uncharacteristically silent as they watch his past self grab an orange pill bottle out of his sweatpants, he knows what is about to happen. Past John tips the bottle to his lips and puts all of the sleeping pills into his mouth, before finishing the full bottle of vodka. The papers unsigned as he tries to stand up.
“Walker,” Ava starts but Past John interrupts her. He collapses to the floor, the super soldier serum already working to metabolize the dead cocktail he had taken. Moments later he vomits what little was left in his stomach, and John doesn’t know why he does this but he kneels to his past self. He wants to comfort him, but he can’t figure out how to. Olivia doesn’t come back after this, she and his son are still gone even after this. The only reason she calls now is to beg him to sign the divorce papers, but he just can’t do it.
He’s shocked when his past self suddenly starts speaking, “You’re pathetic, you think that you could actually escape this pain?” He tries to escape the hand that grabs him by the face but Past John has a vice grip so strong it hurts, “No wonder you couldn’t save Lemar, or change for Olivia. You can’t even properly kill yourself.” He can smell the vomit on Past John’s breath and he struggles to not gag from it. There's a strong arm that grips him before pulling him back, he watches as his other self crumples to the ground and lays in his own vomit. Just like he had done when he woke up twelve hours later, a massive headache, and miserable because he had lived.
Alexi yanks him back up, “Do not listen my friend, you are not-”
“Can we just go?” He feels bad shrugging the man off, especially when he was trying to comfort him, but no one was supposed to see this.
“John-” Of course it's Bucky who speaks next.
He whips around to face them all, each one having a look of pity on their face- but also oddly one of recognition, “No no no!” Each word he spoke got louder, “Don’t say anything, especially you,” John points at a now neutral-faced Bucky, “I’m sure you’re just soaking it up seeing me at my lowest, so fuck off!”
Ava opens her mouth to undoubtedly come to Bucky’s defense but he’s had enough, “Let's just get out of here.” He has no clue what he’s doing so he turns and walks off further into the house. They’re searching every room when he and Bucky end up in the guest room, it was where he had been living since Olivia left.
“John,” Bucky spoke hesitantly and he almost shut him up again, “I don’t delight in your pain.”
It stopped him in his tracks, he didn’t know what to say as Bucky looked at him in earnest.
“Found it!” Ava yelled from across the house and of course it was the window in his son’s old room.
Bucky
He knew that it would be his turn eventually. There were so many different memories of his that he would rather this group of people not have to see, so when they jump out of the window and land in the familiar woods his stomach churns.
“Look!” Alexi points off to their right, “It's Captain America!” They watch as Sam walks past a stunned Bruce and a solemn Bucky. The scenery around them warps a little before showing Sam back near their vehicles, Bucky had followed him and was calling out his name.
“Lovers quarrel?” Ava makes a remark and Bucky can’t turn to face them as he watches one of his worst memories play out. He would’ve much rather watch his mind be fried, hear his screams as they sawed through the bone of what remained of his left arm, hell even the abuse he suffered at the hands of Brock and his team. Not this.
“Sam! Stop ignoring me!” His past self yelled.
Sam whipped around so fast that his past self almost ran into him, the shield was held loosely in his hand, “What do you want me to say?”
“I- I don’t know,” His past self looked so hurt, so vulnerable that something sick turns in his stomach at the thought of anyone but Sam seeing this, “Please-”
Sam shook his head, “No Buck, you knew didn’t you?” His past self couldn’t answer and just had to watch the look of betrayal on Sam's face, “You knew that he would leave, give me this, and you said nothing? If you had gone with him, would you have told me?”
His past self does what he does best, get angry, “It wasn’t my place to say.”
“Not your place!” Sam shouts so loud that he can tell Ava jumped, “He was my best friend too you know, I put my life on the line for you, I went on the run and let my family question if I were dead for years!”
“Yeah, well I never told you to do that!” He wants to slap his past self, shake him until he gets it through his thick skull that Sam is hurting worse than him.
Sam shakes his head, “We’re done.”
Panic sets in, they watch as Sam walks away and ignores his past self’s pleas. It's when Sam shuts the door, turns on his vehicle that his pleas turn ugly. He yells, calls Sam all sorts of names, “Fine then, I’m better off without you anyways!” Sam and him make eye contact, and he can see that Sam has tears in his eyes, hurt written all over his face.
God he regrets this. He regrets it so much that it hurts, he knows that they had been able to make up after the situation with John Walker. He had finally been able to properly apologize and take back the words he had said, but nothing will wipe the look on Sam’s face when he said those words. He would much rather go through seventy years worth of pain again if it meant he never hurt Sam like that again.
“Damn, that was cold,” John mutters but quickly shuts his mouth when Bucky turns to glare at John in a way that is reminiscent of the Winter Soldier.
They watch as his past self walks over to his motorcycle, muttering the whole time. Bucky knows that comes next and he would rather the rest of the group really not see this. The motorcycle starts, and Bucky sees Sam’s helmet clipped to the handle. Sam had taken the car that Steve had driven there when he had left. After all Steve said he could have it as a replacement for the one that Bucky had ripped the steering wheel out of. They had ridden to the woods together, and left broken.
His past self stared at it for a moment before tears slid down his face. He watches himself sob, his hands covered his face as his sobs turn hysterical. Bucky remembers well the panic and grief that had gripped his heart, he had lost Steve, and Sam that day. All the years of built up emotions had come out as he couldn’t hold it back anymore. It was an ugly cry that could be barely heard over the sound of the running motorcycle. Something inside of him wanted to comfort himself, he remembers in that moment all he wanted was to run to Sam and hold onto him for dear life, but he had made his bed and now he had to lay in it.
There was a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder, “Come on friend, let's find the others.” Alexei looked at him not with pity, but understanding.
He takes a deep breath and chokes back his own tears, “Yeah.” When he turns to the others John is gone, and Ava gives him a soft smile. When they find John he gives Bucky a nod and he can’t help but feel like that is John’s way of being sympathetic. He takes it, and is grateful that John didn’t give him any asshole comments.