One Night In Brooklyn | Bucky Barnes 1940's

Summer of 1945

June

It was an entire month before she heard from Bucky himself.

The letter came early in the morning. And she called in sick from work before even opening it. She slumped down in the chair on the balcony, and smoked a cigarette before opening it.

It was an apology. An explanation. A reassurance.

"I thought about you. All I could think about was you". he had scribbled. It was rushed, messy.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry" He continued.

Eloise closed her eyes hard before continuing. The burning behind her eyelids felt like fire.

"I'll be home soon. I'm coming back to you. I'm done. It's over. I'm coming home to you." he signed off. "Wait for me. Wait for me." he signed again.

July

It was a Saturday. Eloise was getting ready to head over to Peggy's. Ever since Bucky's incident (which she refused to actually talk about), Peggy had been extra pushy with getting her to spend time out of the house. Peggy lived about a 20 minute taxi ride in the opposite direction of Eloise.

She had put on a light green dress, a pair of white kitten heels and her hair was neatly curled, her bangs sweeping away from her face and fastened with two golden clips. It was a good day. An okay day. She had only woken up once last night, flailing and fighting the sheets that had tangled around her sweaty body. 

She was packing her cigarette case into the purse when there was a knock at the door. The only person that knocked on her door these days was the mailman. After Bucky's accident she had threatened him within an inch of his life to make sure that any letters addressed to her were delivered immediately upon arrival. She was not going to wait until he made his rounds around the entire block before dropping off her mail. But it was Saturday. Which meant no mail was being delivered.

Eloise made her way over to the door and swung it open.

On the other side stood a young black man in uniform. His hat held politely against his chest. His large eyes wandering up the arch above her front door. A letter in his hand.

Eloise felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. Her legs were growing weak. She was beginning to feel extremely dizzy.

"...He–" She managed, shaking her head slowly, her eyes wide as saucers.

"Ms. Scarpaccelli?" the young man asked politely.

"What–" She managed, feeling how the edges of her vision were darkening. She was going to pass out.

"Barnes is fine. I'm Sam. Sam Wilson" He reached out his hand.

Eloise finally took a breath. Her hand shot out, realizing she had kept him waiting for more than what was proper.

"E-Eloise." She was able to squeeze through her strained wind pipes.

They looked at each other for a few seconds.

"He told me to come here. Give you this" He held out the letter.

Eloise looked at the envelope in his hand.

"Come in. Please" she stepped to the side.

"No, I couldn't. I would hate to intrude" Sam politely held up his hand to decline.

"You're not intruding at all. Please. Come in" She tugged at her dress nervously. Feeling like a little girl again.

Sam gave her a polite nod and walked through the door. She led him to the kitchen where she asked him to sit.