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Bucky was the first to go.
He was confused at first. Then he was angry. Then he was very, very scared. He wasn't given the pleasure of sadness before he'd disappeared from the material plane. The last thing he saw, his last thought, was also the last thing he'd said;
"Steve."
And then he was gone. Gone to that world, at least. What everyone else had seen-- what his friends, what Steve, had seen-- was his body in its last few seconds of life dissipating into dust.
What he saw wasn't too different. Fearful, sorrowful, angry glances that had turned his way, all gone in a few moments. His senses faded quick, ears ringing and vision blackening in just a moment, but allowing him the cruelty of emotion as he helplessly reached out to grasp at nothing.
And then, through the nothing, there was something.
Something alive.
If you're being technical, there were many to go before Bucky at the false mercy of Thanos. Even before he'd snapped his fingers, even before the stones had been obtained in their entirety, too many had fallen at his hand. Billions of lives, ended prematurely; men, women, and children alike, terrified and screaming; anyone deemed unworthy in the eyes of a madman had their lives, their beings, ripped from the hands of their loved ones; planets destroyed by one man with a gauntlet who bent the rules of the universe to achieve what he believed was "balance."
The universe, having been balanced from the start, did not approve; of course, most certainly, the eternal glory of the cosmos had other plans.
Anyone would be confused after finding themselves in the Aether, and Loki was no exception. He didn't die at the hand of the stones, after all, and he truly believed that his death would result in his suffering throughout eternity.
But the universe disagreed.
He gasped for breath but found he did not need it. He'd made a habit of breathing while alive, and he was not to be blamed of that, but his realization of his death came quickly after he found his habit become unnecessary. His heart did not beat, and yet he felt a sigh of relief was well-deserved. He knew where he was. Yet he did not know why.
He looked around. And then he walked. Then ran. Then screamed. Time had no meaning there -- he could've been doing that for hours, or years, or only a moment when he decided to sit. So, he sat. Curling up into a ball, as he did when he was a child while alone in his room, Loki, son of Odin, prince of Asgard, god of mischief, wrapped his arms around his legs and sat on the ground of a plane of existence different from that he'd ever known.
He was alone.
He cried.
Thanos' idea of mercy was a painless death. He was wrong in that sense. Death, by no means, is ever painless. The absence of physical pain leaves room for the emotional, and by the end, only the emotional remains.
Bucky remained emotional from start of his journey to the end of it. In truth, he knew his journey was far from over, but the voyage from one physical plane to the other was as exhausting as he would have assumed it to be (granted he'd even thought of this before). Nevertheless, his overwhelming clash of emotions far from halted as his sight returned to him, instead continuing on as if the man had merely been tricked into believing his heart had stopped beating.
His movements continued their course as they had in the world before, with the confused and frightened man falling to his knees with his arm still stretched out in front of him. He quickly collapsed onto the ground, catching himself on calloused palms and blinking repeatedly in an attempt to wake himself up.
Heaven? No, not heaven. Hell? Quite possibly.
After a moment to take his breath, he pushed himself up to his feet, then stumbling and falling back down to his knees. Weak, tired, confused-- things a soldier should never be-- he screamed and wished for a response.
The universe obeyed.
Loki lifted his head.
A scream?
He stood and turned towards the source of the voice, then starting up into a run towards it. Time was no threshold for distance here; once again, in hours or seconds or years, in time immeasurable, he arrived, looking down to see a man he knew all too well.
Wordlessly, he wiped away his tears (which continued to flow against his will) and outstretched his hand to the old soldier below him. The man accepted it, taking a moment to shakily rise to his feet and steadying himself on the trickster god's arms. They met each other's eyes. Silent tears streamed down their faces in sync as the two agreed to embrace, arms locked tight around each other as they dried their tears on the other's shoulder. Unsure of their future, or even their past, they now had one thing that they could be sure of, and they'd be sure to never let each other go again.
The universe works in mysterious ways. There is no "deserving," no "righteousness" one must fulfill in order to be saved. Every soul has a purpose for being alive, and the death of even a single soul who has not fulfilled their purpose may throw the balance of the cosmos askew. Each and every soul lost to the hand of Thanos was undeserved. The deeds of those people, righteous or shameful or somewhere in between, was not to be weighed just yet. This was not their end, nor would it be for some time. With the dramatic shift in the universe's balance caused by the will of a rogue titan, the only thing powerful enough to protect the lives of the many was the power of the stones themselves.
Before being cast into the gems wielded now by Thanos, the infinity stones were cosmic beings, fated to protect the universe and preserve its balance. The will of those stones lives on in their power, and despite Thanos' best efforts, nothing he did could prevent the preservation of those he'd killed.
Billions of lives were restored with the power of the stones. Only able to exist in the Aether, being in one of the stones itself, these souls were all but lost to its infinite glory, destined to walk alone until they were restored to life -- that is, of course, without the power of the soul stone. The soul stone linked those together who were fated to be at each other's side, weaving connections between the weary to restore their hope and faith, mostly in one another. This fate came to pass for all who entered the Aether, and the lives of a god and an old soldier were not ignored.
Soon, more entered their realm. Loki and Bucky were joined by dozens, then hundreds of their close compatriots. Peter Parker clung to Steven Strange and cried. Groot and Peter Quill stayed close to Drax, who was as confused as ever. Their haven quickly became clustered with lives lost, all of which they mourned for. Everyone was confused. Everyone was terrified. Everyone was gone, and yet, still alive.
The chaos didn't die down for some time. Even when it did, there was still pain. They were dead, all of them, and nothing any of them did could change that. All they had was each other, and they had to make the best of it.
Thankfully (as well as unfortunately), many of the heroes' families joined them in this place. Not seeing someone hurt less than finding one you loved, but in the end, everyone found their bit of safety. Loki and Bucky found it in each other, both comforted by the absence of Thor and Steve and finding that they had much to talk about.
For as long as they were able, the two would chat, and even occasionally laugh. When they weren't talking, they were crying, and it was perfectly okay to do that, too. Neither of them knew the outcome. No one can predict the future, not gods nor soldiers, and that scared them. Being among friends and family was delightful, yes, but there was still fear. Throughout it, though, the trickster and the white wolf found that when they were with each other, they could smile again. Laugh again. Feel alive again. And that's all that mattered.
In the end, nobody really knew what was going to happen. They could be in the Aether for the rest of time or just another minute. Salvation was distant; hope, however, prevailed. In finding each other, the group knew that they would survive. Maybe not in pulse, but in memory, and with each other. The distant future, when with your loved ones, seems not so far away. These souls knew that more than ever.
Loki wished for the universe to listen.
Bucky wished for the universe to act.
Loki took Bucky's hand in his.
The universe obeyed.