SamBucky one shots

merry christmas

A/N: words: 1209. warning: death. im so sorry abt this one guys.  bUT IT WAS SO FUN. ANYWAY, enjoy!

"Merry Christmas," Bucky said, already up, as Sam rose from the bench on the jet. Alright, maybe being on a jet flying to take down a Hydra base wasn't the best way to spend Christmas, but a smile slid onto Sam's face nonetheless. "Sorry its not what it should've been."

"Its fine, really, Buck. Its perfect the way it is." Poor Joaquin has to deal with them today. Bucky gave him a speculative look. "I'm being honest."

"If you say so, Sam. I just- you should be with your family."

"I got enough family right here."

"God, you're hopeless." Bucky commented, a fond smile on his face. Sam grinned back, shaking his head. He gets up with a small grunt.

"Hypocrite." Sam grumbled, pressing a kiss to Bucky's forehead. Bucky smiled watching as Sam walked away. He'd get him home for Christmas, he knew he would.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Sam?" The air had gone dead quiet, as if time was frozen. Bucky could feel the air he let in and out, feel his heart beating inside his chest.

"I'm here." Sam croaked out over comms. Bucky's breath quickened. Sam didn't sound alright. Sam didn't sound alright at all.

"Sam." Bucky breathed out, running to where Redwing said Sam was. "Sam, stay with me."

"Who said I was leaving?" Sam's voice was hoarse, as if the air was knocked from his lungs.

After a few twists and turns, he found Sam. Doubled over, gasping for breath, and clutching the knife in his stomach. "Sam." Bucky felt as if his worlds were colliding, collapsing. He kneeled down beside Sam, staring in disbelief. Sam's hand was soaked in blood, and his face was twisted in pain. "Sammy, hey, you with me?"

"It hurts, Buck." Sam muttered, his voice wobbly, and Bucky has to resist the urge to breakdown. "It hurts so bad."

"I know, Sammy, I know. Look at me, Sam." A gentle hand reach to guide Sam's face to look at Bucky.

"Hey." Sam croaked out, leaning into Bucky's touch.

"Hi." Bucky chocked out. "Medics are on their way, okay? Can you hang on till then?"

"I don't know. I can't-" Sam is gasping for air, tears rolling down his cheeks. The super soldier wipes a few them away with his thumb, finding that the warmth from the dark brown eyes are draining as the seconds past. "I can barely think, Jamie."

"Its gonna be okay. I promise you." Bucky send he'd get him home for Christmas, but not like this. He can't even imagine coming home with nothing but a message. A message that Sam's gone. That he let him slip through his fingers. When Bucky was supposed to cover his six. Supposed to make sure he makes it home after every mission. And look where that got them. Broken and battered and barely breathing.

"Let me go. I can't keep holding on like this, Buck." Sam was pleading for the end. The end of time was ticking down at an alarming pace. "Please, take the knife out."

"You'll die." Bucky wasn't exactly sure when he started crying, when the tears fell from his eyes, seemingly never ending.

"Please." Sam's voice was barely a whisper, and his eyes grew grey, and his joy, his warmth, his life drained from his face like champagne on New Years day.

"Okay." It was the least Bucky could do. And the last thing he wanted to do. The knife slid slowly, causing an ear-splitting scream to shake from Sam's lips. The seconds felt as if they were passing by in hours. The consequences of this knife clattering to the pavement, bloody with Sam's blood, will be never ending. Bucky knew what this job meant, knew it wasn't really a job at all, more of a sacrifice that waits in the shadows to strike. It's chosen the worst moment to drag its bloody knife along the lives of the Wilsons.

"I'm sorry it had to end how it did, Sammy." Bucky choked out, tears streaming down his face.

"D-don't." Sam stuttered out. "I g-got to s-spend Christmas w-with y-you." Sam smiled up at him, even though it took all the strength Sam had not to let go.

"Merry Christmas, Sam. I'm sorry-" Bucky was gonna apologize for not being there when Sam needed him most. For not allowing him to go home for Christmas to his family. For not trying to save him when he could've. For taking this mission. For promising that they'll be home for Christmas, when in reality, Sam would never see his nephews open presents on Christmas morning. Never get to see who they grow into. Sam would never get to scold Sarah for doing too much at once. Never get to drag Bucky out of bed to go to an interview neither of them really wanted to go to. Apologizing for Sam's life being cut too short, and the people around him losing their lifeline. But Sam interrupted with,

"Shhh. D-don't. M-merry Christmas. Love you." And Sam's eyes grew cold, his breath grew short, a small exhale, and Sam was gone. And with him, so was Bucky.

"Sam." Bucky breathed out, pleading for him to come back, even though he knew Sam was gone.

A wick on a candle dwindles by the fire you light. Bucky hoped he was some small part of that fire. The fire that lit when Sam needed it most. Bucky's touch, Sarahs smile, AJ and Cass' laughter, Steves voice, Natashas eyes. Every little thing that broke him and stitched him back together again and again and again, until the flame burns out. Until the harsh reality that Sam, the flame, the fire of so many lives, is gone. The warmth of home and comfort of his brown eyes sink like ships in high tides. And the only thing Bucky could do now is mourn the loss that he has to hold in his heart. Pain that would weave itself into Bucky like vines on trees. Strong and relentless.

~~~~~~~~~~~

When Bucky goes back to Louisiana to deliver the news, he can't bare to stay much longer. He packs his bags as Sarah tries to put the pieces of her life back together that have now cracked like glass. As AJ and Cass stand helpless, holding another loss on their young shoulders.

Maybe Bucky comes back. Comes back on a hot summer day, and Sarah hugs him, and the boys come up, a few inches taller than Bucky last saw. And they'll laugh and smile, and Bucky will probably cry because thats who he is as a person. But the warm sun the hangs in the blue sky can't fill the void of Sam's smile. Bucky can feel it, feel his absence in the community. And it hurts. Hurts to know Bucky isn't the only one who feels like this. As if his life has been soaked in bleach, dull. Empty. Lost. The feeling of grief is as easily contagious as Bucky predicted.

The death of Sam Wilson hangs heavy over the world. But Bucky must mourn in silence. Loving Sam was one of the greatest adventures Bucky ever chosen to take. But losing him was the worse consequence. No matter how much love, the loss is what you remember.