Stucky One-shots

See You Again - Chapter 1

"God, Stevie," Bucky sighed, helping Steve up from the playground floor as a few boys, also in school uniform, laughed at the eight-year-old boy who couldn't even stand up straight for an hour on his own. Tears pricked Steve's eyes hearing them.

"Damn, Barnes, look at you, helping a Catholic?" One of the boys from Bucky's class mocked. Bucky turned around and faced the boy, his eyes changing from a calm river to a strong wave in the ocean that would drown anyone without hesitation, "Oh, you think I shouldn't hang out with Catholics? Huh? It's against my religion?" The boy's brown eyes widened slightly but he stood his ground and stood tall. Bucky rolled his eyes and kicked the boy in the leg. He groaned and staggered off. "Don't mind them," Bucky muttered to Steve.

Bucky surveyed Steve's body for any cuts or grazes before dusting off the uniform, still too big for him, despite being bought more than a year ago. "Are you okay?" Steve nodded, looking down. Confused, Bucky sat down on the end of the slide, next to him. "What's up, Stevie?" Steve shrugged, but Bucky knew better and prodded him again.

"You shouldn't need to defend me all the time, Buck," Steve whispered. Bucky frowned and his hand found Steve's shoulder, "No, I don't, but I still do, don't I?" He gave Steve an encouraging smile and Steve gave him a side-hug.

They sat in silence for a moment, watching their schoolmates, some playing on the schoolyard, some challenging friends to checkers, some older ones showing off blackjack cards they stole from their fathers, and some others reading books by Ernest Hemingway or F. Scott Fitzgerald. Being a bookworm, Bucky could recognise almost every book being read.

He looked over at Steve, staring up at the pale blue sky and the red thumbprint on it that was the Sun, and tapped his shoulder, using his other hand to gesture to Steve's rucksack. "Can I see your drawings?" Steve smiled and took the book out. He flipped through the book and pointed at a drawing of Bucky's bicycle. His bicycle was a new one, and the only new one in their entire neighbourhood. It was hard enough for ordinary working-class families to get second-hand bicycles for their children, and Bucky's brand-new one was just another indication of his privilege. It's no wonder why everyone wants to be his friend, Steve thought.

The drawing was probably done while they were sitting on the Barnes' family porch, and it showed off the accessories he had, from the thumb-operated bell to the cane bicycle basket. "Nice," Bucky grinned, and he flipped the page to the iconic pencil drawing of the two of them laughing. "You know, Stevie, you could be an artist, someday," Bucky realised, turning to Steve. He turned the page again to a drawing of the Grand Canyon, drawn completely from imagination, with a coloured pencil set that Bucky had bought for him for his birthday. The drawing was in red, and in the drawing, Bucky could see the sheer magnitude of its depths. It made him feel as if he was peering into the very heart of the earth. Each layer of sediment told a story of millions of years, a chronicle of the earth's tumultuous past written in stone. More than anything, the drawing reminded him of the incomprehensible vastness of the universe and the fleeting beauty of his existence. They promised each other, the second they heard about the Grand Canyon from a neighbour, that they would make it together.

"We're gonna visit the Grand Canyon someday, Stevie," Bucky whispered. "Together.

*****

"Stevie?"

"Yeah?"

"If we ever get out of this frozen wet hell we're going out to the Grand Canyon. After this war, we'll be there at night, just you and me, and throw rocks off the edge to hear them make the land a thousand miles down, and it'll sound like fat little raindrops into a puddle. It'll be fun. We could lay on the red ground till our bones start burning. It would at least be better than this. We would be warm again. I heard the desert gets real cold at night, though, but at least it'll be because we wanted to be there, y'know?"

At the Grand Canyon, sitting on one of the rocks, Steve makes a campfire. Just like Bucky predicted, its a little cold and he comforts himself with the memory of Bucky cuddling him close, wrapping his sturdy arms around his waist, whispering sweet words to him, placing a blanket over his shivering form, sitting next to him the whole day as he lay bed-ridden.

It's been a long day without you, my friend

Taking out his sketchbook, he turns to the first page and sees the portrait that the museums and newspapers have of James Barnes, in his olive uniform and lopsided patrol cap. He whispers to the wind words only meant for James Buchanan Barnes, words only meant for the love of his life, "I'm with you till the end of the line, remember?"

Then he starts a sketch of Bucky on the next free page. He doesn't draw a Sergeant, or a Commando, or a sniper, not even close. He draws that boy with bright steel-blue eyes that glistened in the sunlight. He draws Bucky, the way that only Steve has seen him.

And I'll tell you all about it when I see you again

The drawing of Buck is exactly how Steve remembers. Heavy-lidded eyes, sharp features, a defined jawline, a straight nose, and a curved chin. His hair falls in front of him and arches over his forehead, and it looks a little messy and unkempt, the way he looked after a night of dancing. He has a smile on his face. A laugh. He sketches and shades the crinkles around the corners of his bright and stunning steel-blue eyes. He draws the broad slope of his shoulders and that carefree spark in his youthful eyes.

He looked at the drawing, at Bucky's face. Frozen in a laugh. Frozen in time.

We've come a long way from where we began

"We're at the Grand Canyon, Buck."

It's tempting to want to live in the past. It's familiar. It's comfortable. But it's where the fossils come from.

Oh, I'll tell you all about it when I see you again

And so he takes the sketchbook in one hand and holds it up and out so that Bucky can face the stars and the full moon and the Canyon itself, stretching and winding as far as Steve can see. And as he takes in the magnificent sight, as he breathes the fresh air and admires the stars dancing on a celestial stage, he hopes that its everything Bucky imagined and more, and he hopes that Bucky knows that they've made it.

And somewhere far away, he can hear the voice of Bucky, so sweet and soft and pure, whispering to him.

"I love you too."

...When I see you again