Wordlessly, I reach over and clasp my hand to the back of his neck. It has to sit for a minute, I get that. He has to wrestle with it- God knows I have- and talking more won't help. There's nothing to elaborate on. I just stay close, keeping the eye contact. I'm not leaving, even if he won't, or can't, ask me to stay.

The universe has been hell bent and making sure our friendship isn't easy. I have the scars still to prove it. At the end of it all, though, it sits heavier with Bucky than anyone else. He's the one who carries it, and I'll be damned if I'm the one that lets it bury him.