(But not really. You won't actually see each other again, because you're dead... Sorry! I couldn't help myself!)
***~(Trigger Warnings: Death, mourning for character)~***

The halls of the SHIELD base bustled with people. Most of the agents gave Bucky a wide berth, but he didn't bother with the usual twinge of guilt and shame. Y/N was getting back from her mission today.
Normally, he'd pull the sleeve down over his metal arm and keep his head low, avoiding their suspicious stares. But recently, Y/N had been trying to break him out of that. She hated to see people treat him differently because of his past. And even though she was a peaceful girl, she'd give hell to anyone that looked at him wrong, and especially if they called him a freak.
"Hey! Buck!" The ex-assassin looked over his shoulder to see his old friend, Steve. Bucky slowed his walk to let Steve catch up with him. He was still walking when Steve put his arm out to stop him, "We need to talk."
"Yeah? What about?" The dark haired man asked, a bit curious now. The blond looked around at the busy hallway, then peeked his head through a nearby door. He motioned for Bucky to follow him, and stepped inside. The Winter Soldier walked into the empty room, now more curious than ever.
"Whatever this is, let's make it quick, okay? Y/N is supposed to be getting back from her mission soon."
Steve cringed and replied, "Actually, this is about that..." Bucky's eyebrow raised, "What? Did she get delayed? I just talked to her on the phone yesterday. She said she was done. That it was just paper work and debriefings." Steve was still looking down, his eyes locked on a manila folder. When he looked up again, his face was full of pain. Steve wasn't one to cry, but Bucky noticed a hint of tears in his eyes. His friend spoke again, "Buck," a noticeable crack in his voice, "she didn't check in, last night. Her handler went looking for her..." Every muscle in Bucky's body tensed, fear coursing through him. Steve looked directly into his eyes and finished, "They found her body, Buck–." He didn't get to finish. Bucky was already fleeing the room. Steve thought about going after him, but knew it wouldn't be a good idea. He would check on Bucky later. Instead, he went back to his own room to mourn for his lost colleague. His lost friend.

"James?"
"Uh-huh?"
"James Buchanan Barnes, I-I love you."
"I love you too, Y/N."
Bucky's fists slammed against the punching bag, over and over. Tears clouded his vision, but he kept punching. The last conversation he had with her replayed in his mind, and he continued to assault the punching bag. Past the roar of his blood pounding in his ears, he faintly heard someone call out to him, "Bucky. Buck. Listen to me." A hand touched his shoulder. Spinning around, he threw his fist toward the intruder. He realized it was Steve, as his friend blocked his punch and stepped out of his way, immediately preparing himself to fight the Winter Soldier. However, a rouge assassin wasn't what met him. The man in front of him collapsed to his knees, putting his head in his hands.
Steve moved next to him and put his arm around his friend. Just as he opened his mouth to offer his condolences, Bucky whispered, "I should have been there. I could have saved her..."
"No, Buck. There was nothing you could have done."
"She called me, and I didn't even know..." He looked up at his friend, tears pooling in his eyes, "She died alone, Steve... Completely alone..."
"I know. But she wouldn't want your pity Bucky. You know she wouldn't. And she wouldn't want you to get stuck in the past again either. She'd want you to move on." Bucky just stared at the ground. He knew Steve was right, but he just didn't know how to move on. He loved Y/N, and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. But now... He'd have to spend the rest of his life without her...
The ex-assassin wanted to lash out, to hurt something. But he knew she wouldn't want that either.
"I miss her too, Buck. We all will." Steve's voice cracked again, and Bucky looked up at him. He nodded, and the two of them sat in silence. Tomorrow they would try to move on. They would live how she'd want them to, but for now... They'll allow themselves the mourning she deserves.