One Shots

Do You Want To Build A Snowman?

Bucky was tired.

Tired of constantly going back to war. Tired of constantly fighting the natzi. Tired of Zola, tired of HYDRA, tired of everything.

Tired.

Every day during war was a torture. He had a home, had a family. They were waiting for him. Each and every day he would recieve letters from his little baby girl. She would often tell him that she's fine, that uncle Sam is taking good care of her, that she has friends to play with...She would also tell him things she wouldn't tell Sam, like how she broke this expensive vase Sam had and blamed it on his dog, or how she didn't eat his dish when Sam was on a fully vegan diet...and she would also tell him things that would break him. She would ask how is he, is he eating well, is he coming home soon?

Is he coming home soon? Bucky didn't have the answer to that. Maybe tomorrow he wouldn't even have a chance to recieve a letter. Maybe tomorrow something is going to happen. What if he dies? How is his precious little daughter going to react? What would they tell her? So many questions were going through Bucky's head. At some point, when you look at him, you would think that he's going insane. He would have moments when he would talk to himself, when he would mumble something. Moments when he would drink tranquilizers, almost overdosing himself with it. Those moments were stressful. The war was stressful.

He felt the most agonizing pain every single time he would notice his daughter crying in the letter. She missed him so much, and god, he missed her even more. He wanted to see her, to hug her, to look at her beautiful baby face and those gorgeous blue eyes. There were times when he wished he could just run away and betray his country, when he wouldn't care about anyone else in the world besides his daughter. His own world.

But that's what he was fighting for. Not to protect the world, but rather his own world. He wanted her to be happy and have a normal world to grow up in. He knew that if he died, she would have to find a way to grow up in the reality just as it is. Every second, minute, hour. Every moment spent further and further away. Every thought was even more painful, even more agonizing.

Finally, the war came to an end, and Bucky could go home now.

Home.

Sam came to pick Bucky and Steve up from the airport. Steve's mom stepped in to watch over Bucky's daughter.

The car drive was silent. Bucky was looking through the car window, deep in his thoughts.

It's snowing.

It took him a moment to realise that everywhere around him was snow. That all of the houses along the way were covered in snow. And people were smiling. There were some who were cozying up in their houses, some who were having their first kisses in the snow, some who were decorating, some who were building a snowman.

He was smiling at seeing how happy people were after the war.

And Steve noticed that. One thing during this whole time spent away from their families that made him happy was Bucky smiling. Sometimes just randomly, and always on letters he recieved. And it made him smile too.

"You know, when we arrive in front of the house, she won't recognize you." said Steve, looking through the window "She's little and she hasn't seen you in so long, so she would probably be a little bit scared."

Bucky didn't deny that. He knows how he looks. A bit longer, messier hair, clothes like in a beggar, tored and patched, circles under eyes, some wounds here and there...Overall he looks like he just came out of the fight with a bear or a lion. Bucky smiled at the thought of that. He knew that his daughter, being that little, would have the weirdest imagination, and think about all of the things that could hurt him. That amused Bucky.