A Stucky Story

The Asset and The Fourth of July pt. 2

 Flashback

Steve never thought it was a coincidence that he was born on the Fourth of July. He considered it kind of awkward. Sarah always told him when he was younger that every time the fireworks went, they were celebrating him. After learning about the true meaning of Fourth of July, Steve decided to leave the celebrating to the nation's independence. 

Bucky, on the other hand, would always say that the fireworks were just for him. That he was born on this day for a reason. When Bucky first found out that Steve's birthday was on the fourth, he thought he was lying until he went over to Steve's apartment and his mom showed him his birthday certificate. Steven Grant Rogers was actually born on July 4th, 1918. Bucky laughed for a while and casually made the joke that he came into the world screaming for freedom every year.

July 4th, 1944. This birthday wasn't like Steve's other birthdays. He was in a different country surrounded by men he fought with against Hydra. The only thing that didn't change was Bucky's happy birthday wake up call. 

"Good morning, good morning. Good morning to the man born for freedom." Said Bucky coming into Steve's tent.

"Buck, really?" Said Steve rubbing his eyes.

"Yep." Said Bucky sitting next to Steve, it was a little hard considering Steve's new size but he managed. "I haven't missed a day and this war ain't gonna change that."

"You know eventually you will miss a day."

"Nope, even in death I'll come down and send some psychic birthday message to you."

"You're too committed to this, Buck."

"Nothing wrong with that. What is wrong is that the gift I have isn't that great."

"I'm sure whatever you got is good."

"Good isn't great. But anyway here." Bucky handed him a sketch drawing. It was a drawing of the two of them sitting on the apartment roof watching the fireworks. He wasn't as good of a drawer as Steve, but it was an effort. And Steve loved it.

"Bucky, I love it."

"You don't have to lie Stevie. I know it's terrible."

"I wouldn't lie to you. This means a lot to me."

"Well, I'm sorry your twenty-fifth birthday couldn't be celebrated in a more special way."

"Having you here makes it special enough." Steve hugged him, the urge to kiss him was too tempting but the other men would be up soon and they needed to get moving as soon as possible. 

February 1945. Steve sat in the destroyed bar by himself. Grieving along with blinding anger fogged his mind. Nothing anyone could say would make him believe that what happened wasn't his fault. He shouldn't have let Bucky go on that train, he should have told Bucky to be somewhere he wouldn't be harmed, he should have told Bucky how he felt before all of this happened. The picture Bucky drew him was lost in battle and probably destroyed. Steve would always remember that picture, the only thing Bucky ever drew. Steve would also ask that nobody give him anything for his birthday, it was useless if he didn't get his yearly birthday wake up calls.

Steve wouldn't receive a gift for almost seventy years.

End of Flashback

"Daddy. Daddy." A flesh finger poked his forehead then his cheek. Steve didn't respond but knowing the consequences of that made him rethink putting his head under the pillow. The finger poked at his forehead then his nose. "Daddy." Steve sighed and opened his eyes to two steel blue eyes less than ten inches from his face. "Up?"