Till the End of the Line: Our Beginning | Stucky Fanfic

Chapter Fifteen

Disclaimer: All translations are from Google Translate. Please correct me if you see any mistakes.

Chapter Fifteen

1943

"It was real nice meeting you, Barnes," Dum Dum practically boomed.

Bucky chuckled and shook his hand. "Good to meet you, too, Dugan. You've made these few weeks bearable.

"Someone's gotta keep you out of trouble. Now let's go," Dum Dum pushed him lightly. "Your girl's probably dyin' to see you. I know mine is."

Bucky stumbled a little at the impact, a soft laugh vibrating out of his chest. "Okay, okay. I'm going. Keep in touch, yeah?"

Dum Dum beamed, already walking towards the other bus. "You bet. Feel free to come visit me anytime. 'M sure Darla won't mind." Bucky rolled his eyes and waved him off.

It was a long bus ride back to Brooklyn. Bucky tried to sleep and when he couldn't, he pulled out his worn copy of The Great Gatsby that Steve had gotten him eight years ago. (It was his go to, like a security blanket.)

The bus couldn't go fast enough.

They dropped him off a few blocks away his from his apartment, but Bucky didn't mind. He just wanted to go home.

The door was unlocked when he got to the apartment. 'Steve must have taken the day off for me,' he thought as a cocky, yet giddy smirk spread across his face. The house was spotless, everything was in its place like usual. But something felt off. "Steve?" he called and his duffle bag dropped to the ground, forgotten, with a gentle thud.

The bedroom door creaked open, but the person who stepped out wasn't Steve. "Pops? What are you doing here?"

George sighed and gave him a tight smile. "Welcome back, Bucky. How was it? You learn anything useful?"

"It was fine," Bucky said suspiciously. "Why the hell were you in my room?"

"First of all, I thought it was Steve's-"

"It is. We share a room. Why were you looking for Steve's?" Bucky clarified as panic crept into his throat and chest, choking the air out of his lungs.

George pinched the bridge of his nose, his other hand splayed in front of in exasperation. "Will you let me speak, dammit!" The older man sighed and rubbed at his face. "I thought it was Steve's room and I was trying to get this list of stuff to take back to him," George handed Bucky a folded piece of paper, "I didn't realize you boys shared a bedroom, much less a bed."

"Steve's breathing gets bad most nights, can't sleep. Not to mention he can't hold heat all that well. Gets sick way too easy," Bucky mumbled as he looked over the grocery lists of Steve's things. "What's all this about?"

"James," George started, "Steve is sick. He's been in the hospital for a couple of days now, he's not doing so well. Doctor says he'll be okay in a few days, as long as he makes progress. Winnie thought Steve might feel better if he had some of his things at the hospital, in case-"

"Don't." Bucky snapped, his hands balled into fists beside him. "Don't you dare finish that thought."

"James, you're being irrational. He's got pneumonia, there's always a chance he could pass-"

"Shut the fuck up, dad! Just stop!" Bucky pushed past him and started to grab the supplies on the list. George stayed in his place in the middle of the living room and watched as Bucky scrambled with ease to get all of Steve's things, plus some. "What hospital is he at?" He demanded, the bag in hand, still in his uniform.