𝔹𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕋𝕠 𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕜𝕝𝕪𝕟 | Bucky Barnes⁽¹⁾

11 | Followed Home

Dear Ella,

As I'm writing this letter, it's the middle of the night, making it Christmas Day. I'm sure you got the tree up in the living room, the blue decorations and silver glitter all over the place as usual. I can picture it so clearly in my head that when I close my eyes, I can imagine I'm there with you. We have the fire going, and we're cuddled up on the couch, the record player on a low volume in the corner.

I hate the thought of you being there alone for all this time. But I hope that knowing that I'm out here thinking of you every second of every day and night brings you some comfort. God knows, it's the only thing keeping me going out here.

The reason I'm writing this at midnight is because my unit have been travelling all day, and only just arrived at our new base camp. I'm not allowed to say exactly where. Security rules and stuff. I think we're gonna be here for a while.

When I used to talk about wanting to see the world, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind. I wanted us to be together, seeing the wonders of the world and enjoying our lives. Well, right now, I can't offer that. But maybe when all this is over, we can go somewhere. Anywhere, as long as it's just us.

I had this dream the other night. There was no war, no fear. You and I had our life of being married and moving to a cottage out in the country. We had loads of space outside, and we had some animals. And we had two kids: a boy and a girl. They were twins, four years old. The girl was called Jane, after your mom. And the boy was called James, after me, of course.

We were so happy in that dream, and I like to think that it wasn't even a dream, but a sneak peek at our future. I always believed that dreams were more than just random things we imagine. I like to think that somewhere, someday, what we dream is or will be real. Maybe in this life, maybe in another. But thinking about it being real is enough.

Hope you had a good Christmas and New Years. I hope you still had a nice holiday, even though I'm not there. I'm there in spirit, okay? Remember that when you're lonely. Every day that passes is a day closer to the day we'll see each other again.

I'm going to try and sleep now. Dum Dum and Falsworth are bitching about me having my flashlight on. I told you about them, right? They're the ones who told me I was a lucky guy when they saw your picture. They're good friends. Hope you can meet them when I come home. That way, I can show you off in real life rather than in just a picture.

Stay safe back home for me, okay? Look after yourself.

Sweet dreams, Elenora.

All my love,

James x

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

January 1943 - Brooklyn

"Thanks guys, have a good night," Ella waved to the last group of people leaving the bar.

"Night, Ella," a couple of them called back.

With a heavy sigh, Ella got to clearing the vacated table, taking the used glasses and plates, putting them onto the large round tray and carrying it over to the bar for one of the waitresses to take to the kitchen. It was just gone 11PM, and the bar was closing for the night. The lights reflected off the windows, making it tough to see out.