Hey You (Stucky)

To Bucky, From Steve

A loud clang on the lock of Bucky's door tore him from his sleep. He sat up and saw one of the wardens standing in the open doorway, letters in hand. Bucky could have made a break for it then, but he'd given up running. The warden flicked through the letters and raised an eyebrow, gaze darting back to Bucky.

"Today must be your lucky day, you've got a letter," he spoke.

Bucky remained silent as the warden dropped the letter to the floor, before slamming the door shut again, the thing Bucky got used to so much. He stared at the white envelope on the floor, fingers curling into the firm mattress of his bed as he blinked away sleep. Since he'd been in prison no one had sent him any letters, nor had he gotten visitors. So this came as a shock to him. The brunette stood and walked over to the letter, picking it up with his metal hand, his breathing becoming a little shallow. He could feel the anxiety starting to rush through him, his right hand trembling. Bucky closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing, loose strands of hair falling over his face as he pushed himself back up from his crouched position. He carefully tore the envelope open, feeling a bit of weight in it as he pulled out a sheet of paper. When he folded it open and read the name at the top, he froze, eyes widening a fraction. 

"Steve..." he whispered.

Steven Grant Rogers

Avengers Tower

Manhattan, NY

March 10th 2015

James Buchanan Barnes

Newgate Prison

Manhattan, NY

Cell 107

Bucky, 

I wanted to check in and make sure you're doing okay. Did you know that it's your birthday today? You probably can't remember the last birthday, but I always do. We went out for a night on the town, I think that was before Project Rebirth happened. Anyway, I wanted to wish you a happy birthday pal. I know it must be hard for you, being in prison and all. But, I figured you'd be keeping yourself reserved, so I thought I'd send a letter to keep you company. Things are pretty quiet here at Avengers Tower, we haven't had much trouble, at least not yet. I'm sorry we couldn't do more for you. I'm sorry...for failing you. I have no idea when there will be a chance that you might be able to get out of there, I wish I could do something more. But the best I can do for now is write you some letters and hope that you manage to write back. 

How are you? Are you remembering anything from the last time I saw you? You better be keeping yourself safe. I still can't get over the fact that Sam and I found you, only to have you taken away again. I lost you once, lost you twice...now I've lost you for the third time. I am so, so sorry Bucky. I can't stop blaming myself and I'm starting to hate myself for not protecting you like I should have the first two times. Please, for me, get better. I don't want you to be stuck in prison for life, you don't deserve it, we can fix this. I'm not sure what else I can say. I just want you to know I'm here for you, always, no matter how far away you are. I'd love to hear back from you, even if you only write back something short, I don't care. Just let me know you're still alive in there. 

I miss you pal.

Your friend,

Steve

P.S. There's a present inside the envelope for you. Keep them safe.

 When Bucky had finished the letter, he tipped the envelope up, before hearing the clink of metal on metal. He stared down at the open palm of his metal hand and breathed in shakily. Right there, were a pair of dog tags, with a name, a name that he knew had to be his back in the 1940's. He turned them around in his fingers and saw an engraving on the back, it looked brand new. 

'Till the end of the line, pal

Tears welled in his eyes as Bucky clutched the tags, his head falling forward as it rested against his fist. Bucky's body trembled as he choked back sobs, dropping down to the cold, hard floor, losing all control of his emotions. He'd remembered Steve, but never imagined to hear from him. For Bucky, it was a little too overwhelming.

"'Till the end of the line," he sobbed.