... I had to, guys. I just had to.

////

Bucky lowers himself down onto the couch, staring blankly at the wall in front of him.

Twenty minutes ago he'd remembered something, and still he couldn't get it off of his mind.

He was falling from a train. He'd gone with Steve on a mission, one he didn't even want to do, and he'd fallen off a train. The brunette had realized, with a sudden shock, that it hadn't been his fault. All this time everything had been his fault.

Steve walks in, his sketchbook tucked under his arm. He looks at Bucky, who doesn't glance his way, just keeps staring straight ahead. He looked pale.

"You okay?" Steve asks with a frown, stopping to look at him closely. Bucky's mouth felt dry as he tried to swallow. He wrings his wrist with his metal hand, crisscrossing it with light scratches. He stops and stares down at the metal appendage.

He was falling from a train. Someone had tried to catch him, someone had let him down. Literally let him down. His arm was torn off for it. HYDRA happened because of it.

"Could I say something?" Bucky requests in a soft voice, not looking up. Steve sits next to him, looking concerned.

"What's wrong?"

Bucky goes quiet for a moment, trying to swallow the tightening lump in his throat. He studies his hands and Steve sits patiently.

"When you fell from the helicarrier, I jumped after you. When I fell from the train, where were you?"

His words hit like a punch to the gut. Steve forgets how to function for a second as he's hit with a flashback. Bucky was falling from a train. He tried to reach him. He tried to save him. When Bucky was falling from the train, where was he?

"I-I didn't..," Steve chokes on his words, that horrible feeling of guilt settling in his stomach again. He felt overwhelmingly heavy.

"I jumped after you. I died for you, Steve. Where were you?" Bucky's voice raises, but as it does so, it shakes. With anger, with sadness, with disappointment. He looks up at the blonde, forcing him to make eye contact.

"I-I tried," Steve tries to explain, he tries to breathe properly, he tries to ignore the imagery flashing through his head. Bucky, screaming, plummeting to his death, the ice cold wind biting at him.

"I fell from that train and look where it got me!" Bucky cries, throwing his hands in the air, the metal one catching the light. "I saved you! Over and over again, I saved you!"

Steve tries to shrink in on himself, his mind whirling with terrible thoughts. Where were you? Where were you when I needed you? Just once, I needed you to save me, and you didn't.

"Bucky, I'm sorry," Steve wavers, blinking hard.

"Where were you when I needed you, Steve!"

"I'm sorry!" Steve cries. Bucky stops and drops his head in his hands. Steve's shaky breathing was rattling; that sounded all too familiar. "I-I'm sorry I didn't jump after you. I'm sorry I couldn't catch you, Bucky. I-I wasn't... I couldn't. I was afraid, okay? I'm so sorry."

Bucky sits there in silence for a moment, listening to the blonde. Steve runs his hands over his face, blinking back emotions that threatened to tear him apart. Guilt, frustration, anger towards himself.

"I would never want you to suffer, Buck. I should've jumped after you," Steve says quietly, his voice hoarse.

Bucky didn't quite know what to say.

"We tried for each other, didn't we?" He says in a quiet voice, still thick with emotion.

"I didn't try hard enough," Steve mutters and Bucky glances at him. Steve was fiddling with his fingers, tapping and twisting them anxiously. "If I could do it all again..."

Bucky sighs softly. "Yeah. If only."

////

It was later that night when a horrible thought struck the brunette. He climbs out of bed and barges into Steve's room.

"I'm sorry," he says, he sounded exhausted. Steve rolls over and looks at him through tired eyes.

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry I blamed you so much. I didn't realise what that must've been like. I would feel horrible." Steve stares at him as he explains. "I get it. I'm sorry I exploded."

"You had every reason to," Steve responds. Bucky merely shakes his head and sighs. "I'm sorry too."

Bucky nods a little and looks back towards his room. It seemed so cold and empty. "Could I, um..," he gestures to Steve's bed. The blonde sighs softly and pats the spot beside him.

Later that night Bucky felt Steve take his hand, the metal one, and hold it tightly.

He may have lost him once, but he would never lose him again.