An- I'm going to start this book by attempting to make y'all cry

This can't be happening.

Bucky knelt over Steve, inspecting the bullet wound in his stomach. There was a lot of blood, and nothing Bucky was doing was helping. Steve looked to be on the brink of consciousness, his eyes half closed and his breathing labored. "It's okay, Buck. I'll be fine." Bucky nodded vigorously, his hands shaking. "Okay. You're going to be fine. Just try to hold on, alright?"

"I'll try."

Bucky stopped trying to stem the blood flow and looked up at Steve. Steve was trying to smile, but his pale face and bruised jaw made him look like a corpse made up for a funeral. Something about his eyes were different than usual, though. There was a bright light in his eyes, like a lightbulb about to go out.

Bucky shifted so that Steve was laying across his lap. Steve was struggling to hold his head up, but he managed to move forward and bring his lips into contact with Bucky's.

A second later, he pulled away, eyes gleaming brighter than ever.

Bucky was slightly in shock. "Steve..?" Steve was grinning now. "I wasn't going to die without doing that. I-"

He was interrupted by Bucky's lips on his. It was desperate and quick, with no time to take it any further than that. Bucky was just beginning to feel used to it when a large weight dropped into his hands.

Oh no.

He pulled away to see Steve in his arms, eyes closed, with a ghost of a smile on his face.

He was gone.

Sorry.