For six years, Bucky Barnes had been your home.
Six years of waking up beside him. Six years of knowing the sound of his footsteps, the way he took his coffee, the quiet little hum he made when he thought you weren’t listening. Six years of arguments that never lasted more than a few hours, late-night conversations, stolen kisses in the kitchen, and falling asleep tangled together.
You knew him better than anyone.
Or at least, you thought you did.
Because one morning, you woke up alone.
At first, you didn’t think anything of it.
Bucky sometimes left early for missions. You reached across the mattress, expecting to feel the familiar warmth of his body, but your hand met cold sheets.
“Bucky?”
Nothing.
You sat up, still half-asleep.
Then you noticed the closet.
Half empty.
Your stomach dropped.
You threw the blankets off and rushed out of bed, opening drawers, checking the bathroom, the living room, anywhere he might have left something behind.
His jackets were gone.
His boots were gone.
His dog tags were gone.
Even the battered old leather jacket he’d practically refused to take off for years was missing.
“No…”
You grabbed your phone and called him.
Straight to voicemail.
You texted.
Where are you?
No response.
Bucky, please answer me.
Nothing.
Then you tried calling again.
Blocked.
Your heart stopped.
You stared at the screen, refusing to understand what you were seeing.
Six years.
Six years together.
And he had left without saying a single word.
No goodbye.
No explanation.
No note.
Nothing.
By the time you reached Steve, then Sam, then Natasha, the answer was the same:
No one knew.
Or no one would say.
You spent the next several months trying to find answers that didn’t exist.
Eventually, you stopped calling.
A year
You barely survived the pain of him leaving without saying goodbye
Then, one ordinary afternoon, your entire world tilted again.
You were walking through the Avengers compound, carrying a stack of files, when the elevator doors opened.
You nearly walked straight into him.
Bucky Barnes.
Alive.
Standing right in front of you.
For a moment, neither of you moved.
He looked different.
His hair was longer. There were new scars along his jaw. His expression was harder, colder.
But his eyes—
His eyes were exactly the same.
They immediately softened when they landed on you.
Then he looked away.
Like he hadn’t just seen the person he’d abandoned.
Like your existence didn’t still hurt him.
You swallowed.
“Bucky.”
His jaw tightened.
“Hey.”
One word.
One stupid, quiet word after a year of silence.
You stared at him.
“That’s it?”
He glanced at you.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“You disappeared.”
“I know.”
“You left without telling me anything.”
“I know.”
“You blocked me.”
His expression flickered.
“I know.”
Your voice cracked.
“Why?”
Silence.
His eyes dropped to the floor.
“I can’t tell you.”
You laughed bitterly.
“Of course you can’t.”
“Stay away from me.”
Your heart sank.
“Gladly.”