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buckyssoldat · 2 months ago

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Chapter 70: Almost

Warnings: major character grief/loss, emotional angst, bittersweet goodbye, mentions of death, unrequited love, mentions of the TVA

A/N: This is part of my series, Forsaken - The Fallen Soldier. If you wanna be tagged in this, just send me an ask or a message. Feedback is always appreciated, don’t be shy to share your thoughts on this :) The poem Loki recites to Alice is called 'Stardust' and it's by Lang Leav.

Goodbye, my almost lover

Goodbye, my hopeless dream

I'm trying not to think about you

Alice sat on the edge of her bed, gripping the sheets so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her heart pounded against her ribs, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried to anchor herself in the present. But the present felt slippery, like water running through her fingers, impossible to hold onto.

Was it real?

She closed her eyes, trying to sort through the tangled mess in her mind. She could still feel Pietro’s arms around her, still hear the way he laughed when she scolded him for leaving his socks everywhere. It had felt real – every touch, every kiss, every whispered word late at night. The weight of his hand on her back as they slept. The warmth of his lips on her temple. The feeling of belonging, of safety.

But it wasn’t real.

Or was it?

Her fingers dug into her scalp as she tried to chase away the question, but it lingered, gnawing at the edges of her sanity. It was like her mind was split in two – one part screaming that it was all a lie, that it had never happened, that Pietro Maximoff was dead. The other part whispered that it had been real enough to leave scars. Real enough to hurt. Real enough to make her feel like she had lost him all over again.

She needed answers. She needed to know what was real and what wasn’t.

Alice grabbed her phone and scrolled through the news, her breath catching when she saw the headline:

WANDA MAXIMOFF MISSING – LOCATION UNKNOWN

Alice scoured every lead, every whisper of Wanda’s whereabouts, but it was futile. Her skills – decades of training, tactical precision, and sharp instincts – meant nothing against Wanda’s immense power. If Wanda didn’t want to be found, no one could find her. Not even Alice.

She sat in her apartment, a map spread out on the coffee table, littered with pins and scribbled notes. Places where Wanda might have gone, small towns off the grid, locations tied to old memories. But each lead turned cold, each avenue a dead end.

The frustration was maddening. Alice paced her living room, the heels of her boots clicking against the hardwood floor, her thoughts a whirlwind.

She couldn’t shake the guilt. Wanda had been drowning in grief, and Alice had seen it firsthand. She’d felt it in the magic that had enveloped her, in the fabricated life they’d shared inside that false reality.

And now, Wanda was out there somewhere, alone and broken. Just like Alice.

Alice stared at the map one last time before tearing it off the table and crumpling it in frustration. She tossed it into the trash and slumped onto the couch, her head in her hands. She called every contact she had. Nothing. She searched through every report, every rumour, every lead she could find. Nothing. Wanda had vanished like smoke, leaving behind nothing but questions and chaos. And Alice was left grasping at ghosts.

“I’m sorry, Wanda,” she whispered into the empty room, her voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.” But whether it was Wanda she was apologizing to, or herself, Alice didn’t know. All she knew was that the silence, both outside and within, was unbearable.

Alice stared at her phone, the weight of indecision pressing down on her shoulders. For days, she had avoided reaching out, telling herself that if Bucky wanted to talk to her, he would. But the silence was killing her, the distance between them growing more agonizing with each passing day. She had never been good at waiting, especially when it came to something that mattered so much. The thought of losing him – really losing him – was a constant ache in her chest. Finally, the need to reach out overpowered her fear of rejection. Her fingers hovered over the screen, unsure if she was ready for whatever response might come. But she couldn’t stay silent anymore. With a deep breath, Alice typed, her message simple but full of everything she had been holding in: I miss you, Bucky. Please, talk to me. She hesitated for a split second before hitting send, her hear racing as she waited, unsure of what to expect, but desperate to hear from him, even if it was just a word.

A couple of days had passed since Alice sent the message, but Bucky never replied. Each time she checked her phone, her heart sank a little more. She had told herself that if he needed time, she'd give it to him. But the silence was louder than anything he could have said. It gnawed at her, picking at the fragile thread of hope she’d been clinging to. She kept the phone close, almost as though the simple act of having it near her would somehow make him answer. But each time, there was nothing. Not even a sign that he had seen it. The absence of his words was louder than anything—louder than the pain, louder than the memories of everything they had shared. It was a stark reminder that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to talk to her, not now, not ever. And that thought, more than anything else, was starting to break her.

Alice stared at her phone, the screen glowing in the dim light of her apartment. The text she had sent – one of countless messages in the past few days – had been simple but heartfelt.

Bucky? Please, I’m begging you. I’m worried.

When the notification finally appeared, after days of numerous unanswered texts, her heart leapt in a mix of hope and fear. She opened the message, praying for something, anything, that hinted he still cared. Instead, the words hit her like a dagger to the chest:

What part didn’t you understand? I said LEAVE. ME. THE. FUCK. ALONE. I don’t wanna talk to you. Not now. Not ever.

Alice froze; her breath caught in her throat. Her fingers trembled as she reread the text over and over, the finality of his words sinking in deeper each time. She had thought – hoped – that maybe, just maybe, he’d still be angry but willing to talk. That there would still be a chance to fix what she’d broken. But this? This was the end.

Her phone slipped from her hands onto the couch, her head falling into her hands as the sobs wracked her body. She felt as though the last bit of strength she’d been holding onto had been ripped away.

He didn’t want her. Not now. Not ever.

It wasn’t like Alice to give up. She had fought battles most people couldn’t dream of surviving, clawed her way out of impossible situations, and faced down enemies that would make others crumble in fear. But this wasn’t a battle she could win. Not this time.

Alice wiped her face, her tears soaking into the sleeves of her sweater. She picked up her phone again, staring at the message. Her fingers hovered over the screen, tempted to reply, to say one last thing. But what was the point? He had made himself clear.

With a deep breath, she locked the phone and set it down. She didn’t cry again – not then. She just sat there, staring at the empty walls of her apartment, feeling the weight of her loneliness pressing down on her.

Natasha was gone. Steve was gone. Tony was gone. Wanda had vanished. And now, Bucky – her Bucky – had left too.

Maybe one day, he would forgive her. Maybe one day, he would come back. But for now, Alice knew she had to let go. As much as it hurt, as much as it tore her apart, she couldn’t keep holding onto something that wasn’t there anymore.

“I’m sorry, Bucky,” she whispered into the silence. Her voice cracked, but she didn’t cry. Not this time. Instead, she curled up on the couch, pulling a blanket over herself, and stared at nothing, letting the emptiness consume her.

Days passed in a haze. She barely slept. Barely ate. The walls of her apartment felt like they were closing in, pressing against her, suffocating her. Her reflection in the mirror was a stranger – hollow eyes, dark circles, skin pale and drawn.

She reached for her phone more times than she could count, her thumb hovering over Bucky’s contact. But she never called. What would she even say? That she was losing her mind? That she was unravelling? That she didn’t know what was real anymore, that she felt like she was falling, and there was no one to catch her?

Bucky wasn’t there. He hadn’t been there in a long time.

And she was alone.

A sharp, shuddering breath ripped through her chest as she squeezed her eyes shut, as she pressed her forehead against the cool surface of the window.

She didn’t know what was real. She didn’t know where Wanda was. And she didn’t have Bucky.

And it was breaking her.

She tried to keep herself busy, distracting herself with small tasks, but nothing worked. Nothing mattered. She’d cleaned the apartment until it felt sterile, empty, and cold. The smell of stale coffee lingered in the air as a constant reminder that she was alive, even though she didn’t feel like it. Every corner of the apartment – once filled with laughter, with the hum of life – now felt foreign. The couch they’d sat on together. The kitchen counter where they’d cooked meals, sometimes in silence, sometimes with conversation. The bed where they’d slept in warmth, comfort, and a love she thought would last forever. All of it was a ghost now.

She hadn’t expected to feel this lost. She hadn’t expected the gaping hole that was left behind by Bucky’s absence to be so unbearable.

The nights were the worst. They stretched on forever. She lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, trying to recall what it was like to sleep without feeling like the world was pressing down on her chest. Every thought about Bucky felt like a jagged shard of glass lodged in her heart. He was gone. Not just physically, but emotionally, too. He had walked away, and she had let him go.

Her fingers trembled as she ran them through her hair. It felt like a lifetime ago when things had felt right.

But that had all shattered. The heartache from their breakup had gnawed at her for so long. The words he’d said before leaving – “Leave me the fuck alone” – still echoed in her mind. She couldn’t get them out. She had tried. She’d tried everything to silence them, but they haunted her, keeping her awake at night, gnawing away at the little pieces of hope she had left.

The pain she felt wasn’t just from losing him, but from losing herself. She had spent so long trying to be strong, trying to be the person everyone needed, trying to redeem herself from her past. She had given so much of herself to others – fighting for them, loving them, putting them above everything. But in the end, it had all been for nothing. She was still empty, still broken, still haunted by the ghosts of her past.

And now, she didn’t know who she was anymore.

The loneliness had become suffocating. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed; the last time someone had held her without it feeling like an act. And in the silence of her apartment, the silence in her soul, she realized something.

She was alone. Completely, utterly alone.

And maybe that was the way it was always meant to be.

The thoughts crept in slowly at first, like a whisper. What if it would be easier if she just… let go? What if she could stop feeling this overwhelming sadness, this ache in her chest?

The idea didn’t scare her anymore. In fact, it felt like a release. She wasn’t afraid of death. She wasn’t afraid of the nothingness that awaited her.

For a split second, the thought of ending it all felt almost comforting. She could disappear into the darkness. No more pain. No more guilt. No more pretending that she was okay when she was clearly not. She could leave the wreckage of her life behind and never look back.

The isolation felt suffocating. Her heartbeat rang in her ears as she moved toward the window, the city stretching out below her like a vast sea of lights. She could feel the weight of it all pressing down on her, could feel herself slipping further, faster, into the abyss.

And then – light.

A soft hum filled the room behind her, followed by a sudden rush of warmth, like reality itself had hiccupped. She turned just in time to see a glowing portal tear open in the air.

Out of it stepped two men.

One she recognized immediately: Loki.

The other was a stranger in a grey suit, carrying himself with an air of professionalism and mild irritation. But it was Loki who stole her breath. Gone were the rich Asgardian robes she remembered. In their place, a modest brown jacket with TVA written on it, a crisp white shirt, and a loosely tied tie. He looked like someone trying to blend in with a world that never wanted him in the first place.

The stranger – Mobius, though she didn’t know that yet – shot Loki a warning glance. “Alright, remember the rules. You’ve got limited time with her. Don’t make me regret this.”

Loki rolled his eyes, a flicked of the old arrogance cutting through the tiredness. “Yes, I know. You’ve told me a thousand times. Now, leave us.”

With that, the man nodded and walked back into the portal, which vanished with a low hum.

Alice stood there, frozen in shock, her heart racing as she stared at Loki. She had spent years grieving him, the years trying to let him go, only to see him standing before her now.

“Loki,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “How… how are you here? What is going on? Who was that guy?”

Loki took a slow step toward her, his green eyes softening as they met hers.

“My love,” he murmured, his voice carrying the same rich, velvety tone that had always stirred her emotions.

Alice stumbled back a step, holding up a hand. “No. Don’t ‘my love’ me right now. You died, Loki. I felt it. I felt it. And then… I saw you escape in 2012. How are you still here? What is happening?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, his expression a mix of frustration and longing. “It’s a complicated story, my darling. After your little band of heroes botched their time heist, I ended up with the Tesseract and found myself captured by the Time Variance Authority – an organization that manages the timelines, apparently. I’ve been… helping them, in a way. And now, I have this chance to see you again.”

Alice stared at him, disbelief etched into her features. “The TVA? Time Variance Authority? Messing up the timeline?” She let out a hollow laugh. “So this is because of us. Because of me.”

He stepped closer, his voice gentle. “Don’t blame yourself, Alice. If anything, this is a gift. A chance to see you again. To tell you what I never could before I…”

“Before you died,” Alice finished for him, her voice trembling. She wrapped her arms around herself, as though trying to hold herself together. “Loki, this doesn’t make sense. How can you even be here?”

“Mobius, the man who came here with me, has bent a few rules for me,” Loki admitted with a faint smirk, though his gaze remained fixed on her, vulnerable and raw. “I have only a short time. But I had to see you.”

Alice blinked back the tears threatening to spill over. She didn’t know whether to scream at him, cry, or throw herself into his arms. “Loki… I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything,” he whispered, closing the distance between them. He cupped her face in his hands, his touch achingly familiar despite the strange uniform. “Just let me look at you. Let me remember you exactly as you are right now.”

Alice’s lips trembled as she whispered, “This doesn’t feel real.”

“It is real,” Loki assured her. “More real than you can imagine.”

They stood there, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between them, the warmth of their shared connection thawing the cold void Alice had been feeling. For the first time in a long time, she felt something other than grief and sadness, even if it was only for a fleeting moment.

“Come with me,” Loki softly pleaded. Let us get our happy ending.”

Alice’s breath caught in her throat, the raw vulnerability in Loki’s voice pulling at something deep inside her. She had spent so many years trying to move on, trying to bury the feelings she still carried for him, but standing here now, with him so close, all that effort felt like it had been for nothing.

She pulled away slightly, her hand instinctively brushing against her cheek where his fingers had been moments before. “Loki… I don’t know how to answer that,” she said softly, her voice barely a whisper. “You were everything to me. But—”

“But?” Loki asked, his eyes darkening with uncertainty, the vulnerability in his voice giving way to a hind of that old defensiveness, as though he feared being rejected again.

Alice’s heart ached for him, for everything that they had been through, everything they could have been, and everything that had changed. She took a deep breath, steadying herself before she spoke again.

“You’re different now, Loki. You’ve changed. But so have I.” Her voice was trembling as she said the last part, unsure if she could bear the weight of the truth she was about to say. “I’m not the same person I was when we… when we were together.”

Loki’s jaw tightened at her words, his eyes flickering with the pain of the past. He stepped back, his hands falling to his sides, as though her words had hit him harder than any battle ever could.

“I thought,” he began again, his voice almost pleading, “maybe you could love me like you used to… even though I’m… different.” He paused, running a hand through his hair, as though trying to find the right words.

“I’ve done so many things, terrible things, things that make me question if I even deserve to stand here before you.” His voice cracked, the weight of his past hanging heavy in the air. “But I thought… I hoped that maybe, just maybe, you could see me for the man I’ve been trying to become. For you.”

Alice’s chest tightened, her emotions a storm she could barely contain. She wanted to reach out, to pull him close and tell him that everything would be okay. But she couldn’t. Not when the truth of her heart was so tangled, so conflicted.

“Loki,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I see you. I see the man you’ve become, the man who’s trying so hard to be better. And I will always care for you. But… my heart doesn’t belong to you anymore.”

His breath hitched, and he froze, his eyes narrowing as though bracing himself for the blow he knew was coming. “It’s him, isn’t it? The soldier. Barnes.”

Alice didn’t answer right away, her silence speaking lounder than any words could. She looked away, unable to meet his gaze, her own heart breaking at the sight of his pain.

“Yes,” she finally admitted, her voice low and soft. “It’s Bucky.”

Loki’s expression was unreadable for a moment, a mask of calm that only someone who knew him well could see through. His hands clenched at his sides, his knuckles whitening as he processed her words.

“I see,” he said quietly, his voice sharp but tinged with sorrow. He looked away, his gaze fixed on some invisible point beyond the walls of her apartment. “I should have known. I always knew there was something between the two of you.”

“Loki, it’s not like that,” Alice said quickly, stepping closer, but he held up a hand to stop her.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice firm. “Don’t try to soften the blow. I’ve spent enough of my life chasing after things that were never meant to be. And I won’t—” His voice faltered, and for a moment, his mask slipped, revealing the depth of his hurt. “I won’t hold you back from the life you’ve chosen.”

Alice’s eyes welled with tears, and she reached out, touching his arm gently. “You were never just a chapter in my life, Loki. You were my world, my first love. And I will always, always care about you.”

He looked down at her hand on his arm, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“But not enough to come with me,” he said softly, almost to himself.

“Loki…” Alice started, but he shook his head, taking a step back.

“You don’t have to explain,” he said, his voice regaining some of its usual composure. “I won’t make this harder for either of us.”

A portal began to shimmer behind him, Mobius stepping partially through, clearly hesitant to interrupt. Loki glanced back, then looked at Alice one last time.

“I’ll always love you, Alice,” he said, his voice breaking slightly on her name. “If you came to me with a face I have not seen, with a voice I have never heard, I would still feel you, somewhere between the sand and the stardust. Through every collapse and creation, there is a pulse that echoes of you and I. I love you, Alice. Always.”

And before she could say another word, he turned and walked toward the portal. Loki spun around, his emerald eyes shimmering with a mixture of longing and heartbreak. For a moment, he hesitated, as if weighing the words he was about to say. Then, with a quiet vulnerability, he asked, “May I kiss you? Just one last time?”

Alice’s breath caught in her throat. The air between them felt impossibly heavy, the weight of their shared history pressing down on her. She wanted to say no, to make it easier for both. But as she looked at him, at the man who had loved her so deeply, she couldn’t bring herself to refuse.

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Loki stepped closer, his movement slow and deliberate, as though he was memorizing every second. He raised a hand to her face, his touch featherlight as his thumb brushed against her cheek. His gaze locked onto hers, searching for something – perhaps closure, perhaps a memory to carry with him.

When their lips met, it was soft, bittersweet, and filled with everything they couldn’t put into words. The kiss wasn’t passionate or desperate; it was a goodbye, a silent acknowledgement of all they had been to each other and all they could never be again.

Alice felt a tear slide down her cheek as she clung to the moment, knowing it was the last time she would ever feel his lips on hers. When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested gently against hers for a moment, his breath warm against her skin.

“Goodbye, my love,” Loki murmured, his voice heavy with sorrow. He stepped back, letting his hand fall away from her face, and turned toward the portal.

As he walked away, Alice felt her heart shatter all over again, the loss cutting deeper than she thought possible. She watched as he disappeared into the golden light, the apartment falling silent once more.

Alice sat down on the couch, her fingers brushing her lips as tears blurred her vision. The kiss lingered, a haunting reminder of what they had shared and what they had lost. But even as the pain threatened to overwhelm her, she knew she had to keep moving forward – not matter how much it hurt.

Loki followed Mobius down the dimly lit corridor of the TVA, his mind still reeling from seeing Alice again. His heart felt heavy with the weight of their goodbye, and he was struggling to make sense of what he had just experienced. Mobius, as usual, was silent as they walked, his expression unreadable.

When they reached a large, circular room filled with screens, Mobius stopped and gestured toward the display. “I want to show you something,” he said, his tone serious.

Loki raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued despite himself. “What is it this time, Mobius? Another lecture?”

Mobius ignored the jab and activated the dozens of screens. One by one, they flickered to life, each displaying a different scene. Loki froze as he recognized the figure in every single one of them: Alice.

The first screen showed her and Loki in a lush Asgardian Garden. They were laughing together, their hands entwined as they shared a rare moment of peace. But the scene shifted, and Loki watched in horror as a shadowy figure emerged, plunging a dagger into Alice’s back. She fell into his arms, her blood staining his hands as he screamed her name.

The second screen showed a war-torn battlefield, smoke and fire raging all around them. Together, they unleashed their powers, an unstoppable force. But the battle turned, and as Loki tried to shield Alice from a fatal blast, it struck them both. They collapsed together, their fingers barely touching as the screen faded to black.

In another screen, Alice stood tall and cruel before the ruins of the TVA, cloaked in shadows. Loki, battered and chained, pleaded with her to stop. But her eyes were cold, glowing with chaotic power. “You were supposed to rule with me,” she hissed. “Now I’ll rule without you.” With a wave of her hand, he vanished.

The fourth screen was on Morag, eerily similar to what had happened between Natasha and Clint. Alice and Loki were standing at the edge of the cliff, arguing heatedly. The stone demanded a sacrifice, and neither of them was willing to let the other go. But in the end, Alice outmanoeuvred him, pushing him aside and throwing himself over the edge. Loki collapsed to his knees, screaming her name as the stone appeared in his hand.

Mobius watched Loki’s face as the screens continued to show more timelines. In one, Alice died protecting Loki from Thanos, a spear through her chest. In another, Loki betrayed Alice for power, only to realize too late that he had made a terrible mistake. And yet in another, Loki was the TVA agent tasked with capturing a rogue variant – Alice. But the more he chased her, the more he begun to understand her pain, her chaos. In a final confrontation, he let her go, choosing her over his mission. Mobius, in this timeline, erased Loki for his betrayal. Another timeline, Alice never stopped being Forsaken, even after Hydra was destroyed. In another, she married Steve Rogers, and they had five children together. There were countless screens showing Alice and Bucky get their happy ending.

There was one where Loki was screaming as Alice, glowing with celestial light, disintegrated while sealing a cosmic rift. Her last words echoed: “I’ll always love you… even from the stars.”

In another, Alice kissed Loki in the ruins of the Quantum Realm portal. “You’ll find me in every lifetime,” she said before stepping into the swirling vortex, disappearing forever.

“See?” Mobius said, his voice quiet but firm. “In every universe, Alice and Loki fall in love. And in every universe, it never ends well.”

Loki’s eyes were glued to the screens, his jaw clenched and his hands trembling. “Why are you showing me this?” he demanded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Is this supposed to teach me some kind of lesson? Some cruel moral about fate?”

Mobius sighed, leaning against the console. “It’s not about fate, Loki. It’s about patterns. No matter the timeline, no matter the choices you make, you and Alice find each other. But the universe… it doesn’t seem to like it. Something always tears you apart.”

Loki remained quiet, his gaze remained fixed on the screens, his face a mask of pain and resignation. The images of Alice – dying, fighting, loving him – played out before him, a cruel reminder of what he could never truly have.

“I know it hurst,” Mobius said gently. “Loving someone who’s out of reach. But maybe it’s time to let her go. She’s in love with someone else, Loki. You saw it in her eyes.”

Loki closed his eyes briefly, willing himself to bury the overwhelming ache in his chest. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and rough, carrying the weight of centuries of heartache. “I know,” he said, the words cutting him like a blade. “Her heart belongs to someone else now. Someone who deserves her far more than I ever could.”

Mobius leaned back against the console, folding his arms. “So… what now? You’re gonna move on?”

Loki gave a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “What else can I do? Even if I wanted to fight for her, what would it accomplish? The universe has made its stance clear.” He gestured toward the screens, his movement sharp and filled with anger. “Every version of us is doomed to fail. Every timeline ends in pain.”

Mobius sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. If you’re really giving up, then what’s the plan? Go back to brooding?”

Loki’s lips twisted into a faint, sarcastic smile. “I’ll do what I’ve always done, Mobius. Survive. And this time… I’ll do it without her.”

He cast one last look at the screens, his eyes lingering on an image of Alice laughing in some forgotten timeline, her smile as radiant as the stars. The sight was almost too much to bear. With a sharp motion, he turned away, the echo of her laughter burned into his mind.

“Turn it off,” he said, his voice firm, though it wavered slightly at the edges.

Mobius hesitated, searching Loki’s face for any sign that he might change his mind. But there was none. With a small nod, he shut down the screens, plunging the room into silence.

As they walked back through the corridors of the TVA, Loki’s usual swagger was absent. He moved with the weary pace of a man who had lost more than he could ever regain. And though Mobius didn’t say it, he could see it in Loki’s eyes: he had given up, not just on Alice, but on the part of himself that had dared to hope.

tags: @capswife

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