Stasis || Bucky Barnes (1)

Twenty

(A letter from Jahi Basilton Parrish to his brother. Written August 5th 1943. From the captain America exhibit, Smithsonian)

Dear Phillip,

I shall begin with how are you ? Because, as always, I cannot write about mission details. If said how I am then the page would mostly have to be subtracted. But fear not, your brother has not lost any limbs nor been at deaths door (again). I haven't even been properly shot yet. So please reassure mother and father that I am still kicking and biting. I got your last letter and the tin box of boiled sweets was such a joy to receive. We've long cleared it out and I keep my cigarettes in it now. Not that I smoke much anymore. I have to ration them for long nights.

We have progressed through Europe, can't say where or in what direction. But it is interesting. Most of the towns and places we see have been bombed, so there's not much sights to see. The people are just trying to survive but they're in a hell of a state. I do the best I can with what medical supplies they have. I would do more but I can't risk using our own army supplies, as we can never really be certain on when we can restock. The squad is doing fine. Not fatalities yet thought I have had to bandage a few wounds caused by idiocy so far. Sam and Pinky decided to have a knife throwing contest and Sam promptly slit open his hand. Honestly, they're all hopeless. (I won the contest anyway. Everyone was rather surprised when they found out that I was more accurate with a knife then I was ever with a gun. All those summers making targets out of trees and throwing Dad's knives at them paid off).

In other news, nothing has changed on the blue eyes subject. It's still fruitless but I can't hope but try. (We only love once). The squad might know about me now, Cap certainly does, but they don't talk about it. It's like that if they don't actually mention my attractions then none of them would have to feel awkward or express their opinions about it. It's nice. Better than my previous squads to say the least and defensively a huge weight off my shoulders. If I am to die in this war then I don't want to die unknown. I want to kiss the blue eyes and know that he could have kissed me back. He's the type of man you want to fight beside and die for. And honestly Phillip, I think I'm falling and it's terrifying. But some part of me is glad not to die without being in love. That would have been insufferably tragic. A youth cut down in their prime, without ever knowing love or the world. Glad it's not me. But still, the feeling is strange and welcome at once. It's too much and yet not enough. You maybe a bit young to understand this but when you do, it will make sense.

To quote Shakespeare's sonnet 113,
"You are my all the world, and I must strive
To know my shakes and praises from your tongue;
None else to me, nor I to none alive".

I wish he would give me an answer, that is not of Tomorrow. Tomorrow is infinite and undetermined. It only raises my hopes and keeps me balancing on an edge. I do not want to see tomorrow come too late.
I love and wish you well brother. In hopes that your romance with the baker's girl is better going than mine. I swear to god you are going to Lord my silly romantic ramblings over my head for years once I return home.
Give my love to the household.
Your romantically tormented brother, Jahi.

P.s. If you met Bucky, you would understand. Even you in all your boy grumpiness would find him cool.

——

"Parrish! Parrish!"

A shark shaking. Basil whimpered and tried to bat at the hands grabbing him. Scientists with their gloves and white coats loomed above him, their gone to reveal bone tinged red and sightless eyes. The tiles on the dingy ceiling swimming dizzyingly above him as the world swirled. He couldn't move, couldn't breath. His veins burned and yet he felt cold. "No! No, no. No. It burns. Please it burns".

"Basil. Basil wake up it's a nightmare".  Warm hands were tapping his shoulders gently. Basil caught them in his and clung to them as he blinked open his eyes. The nightmare clinging on as his brain tried to return to consciousness.

"Sarge? Bucky, please don't go. Please it hurts. Please I don't want to be here alone. No more injections, please".

Someone leaned over and pulled Basil half up to lean on his chest. The smaller man still clinging to him as he shook, fingers pulling at his shirt as he babbled. Bucky pulled him close. His arms encircling his waist as he pressed Basil's head to his shoulder. Their bodies rocking in soothing motions side to side. The arms a grounding weight as Basil began to properly wake up. His voice stuttering off as the fuzziness and the panic began to fade. After a few minutes he blinked and looked around.

He was in a tent. His legs tangled up in his blankets and his bag a familiar lumpy shape next to the rolled up jacket he was using as a pillow. The canvas material hanging above them, wet with dew and night condensation. Basil let out a relieved sigh that was half sob. Bucky was holding him, his body warm through the material of their shirts. He was still rocking them. The motions soothing. Basil basked in it for a few seconds longer before sitting up. Bucky loosening his hold as Basil pulled away.

"That was some nightmare", Bucky murmured. Basil, with his night vision, could see the concern in his blue eyes. "You were whimpering and you kicked me".

"Oh", Basil dropped his head. "Sorry for waking you. Um, thanks for waking me".

"I take it that it wasn't the first time".

"No". Basil had been having nightmares of the hydra labs ever since London. He didn't normally thrash so much though. They would only ever occur every few nights. On those nights he would often wake himself up or suffer through the nightmare until morning. But this one had been particularly bad. He could still feel the after effects of adrenaline in his veins. 

"We're you going to say something?"

"No", Basil scoffed. "The others don't know what happened in those labs. What that was like, you can't empathise with that unless your were there".

"I was there". Basil flinched at the reminder. Bucky was watching him as best he could in the night darkness. His eyes set on his form. "Why didn't you talk to me?"

Basil ducked his head, voice small. "The same reason why you always tell me 'Tomorrow". They were both silent for a long moment. Neither men wanting to admit what was hanging between them. It hung heavily on the air, mingling with the sound of their breaths. The fact that neither of them wanted to admit that their feelings were real. There was a bridge between them and the middle point was unstable and uncertain. Admitting feelings left their hearts vulnerable.

After a few minutes Bucky chuckled. "I suppose I deserve that". He ran a hand over his face with a sigh. Then he held out his arms, voice softer. "Come here. You're still shaking". Basil hadn't realised. He shuffled forwards and let Bucky pull him back into the position they were in before.

Basil rested his head on Bucky's shoulder, curls brushing his neck. "Could you do that rocking thing again?" He murmured. "It was nice. I can't remember the last time someone has held me like this".

Bucky began rocking again and Basil closed his eyes, letting the heartbeat under his ear sooth his shaking. "I used to do this for my sisters when they were children", Bucky voiced gently. "Becca used to get dreadful nightmares about the monster under her bed. I would check and calm her back to sleep before she woke our parents. Then later when the twins were small, before I moved out, I did the same for them".

"What a hero", Basil sighed. The warmth and motions calling sleep back. He heard Bucky smile as he yawned. "Tell me a story Sarge".

"Well, once when Becca was really small she decided to steal from the cookie jar. But it was kept up on the top shelf and she could barely reach the dining room table, it didn't stop her though. Some how she managed"... Basil relaxed and let sleep return. Here, in warmth and listening to the familiar sound of Bucky's voice, he felt safe. No cold steel tables or straps holding him down. Just Bucky and a story spilling into the night. He fell asleep before Bucky could finish.

Unedited

An: close! But no kiss scene yet. Sorry.