Heartbeat (Completed)

Chapter: Twenty Nine

"Mail's in!" Monty crowed, bearing letters and parcels as he swerved through camp where the team was getting some R & R.

Jacq would be joining up with them in a few days which was great since the team operated less efficiently with their explosives expert.

Bucky grinned, eagerly waiting for his usual packet of letters. His Mama was religious in her writing, and Bucky did his best to respond whenever he could. Ian had joined the war a few months ago, so his letters were few and far between, but Robbie wrote twice a week, and Teddy sent his tidbits with his brother's every Tuesday.

"Here you are, Sarge," Monty grinned, handing him a large parcel - probably from his Mama - and four or five envelopes.

Bucky went to sit down by their campfire since it was the most comfortable. They had a few wooden stumps and logs to sit on, so that was pretty nice, and a lot more than they had in their cold camps.

He looked his envelopes over first, running his fingers over the familiar ink. He frowned as he saw two unfamiliar stamps on the last two letters, informing him it was from the US Army. A harsh wave of panic suddenly washed over him, making it hard to breathe. It couldn't be - he was jumping to conclusions. It would be alright. Everything was fine. He would know if anything happened, right?

He felt his fingers shake, and he knew without looking that his men were staring at him, obviously aware that something was wrong. He didn't want to open the letter, but imagining was worse than knowing. He ripped the first open with a small, pained groan, hoping it was something different than what he was expecting.

He blinked once, twice, then swallowed hard. His hand slowly rubbed circles in his chest as his eyes skimmed over the words. Bucky rarely cursed. His Mama didn't like it when he did, and he always felt guilty until he confessed at Mass. But that day, he didn't feel guilty. In fact, his belief in God perished and withered in the space of five minutes.

"Goddamnit," Fell from his lips in anguish.

His head tipped forward, letting him hide his face away from the others. A shadow hovered above him, but he didn't have the strength to move. His hurt ached like it should have all those years ago when he became the man of the house. But somehow...somehow Roger's death seemed more raw and painful than his father's.

All the things Roger had done for them...

The Christmas presents, the flowers he brought home for Mama, the genuine thanks he gave to his sisters after a warm meal, the decent clothes he gifted his siblings, the snowball fights and snowmen contests he participated in...

The advice he was always willing to give, the fatherly figure and example he presented to Beth, Ian, Robbie and Teddy.

He was the one who walked Becky down the isle. The one who gave Beth's beau the talk, he was the one who...

"Bucky?"

Bucky shuddered, eyes moist and lips pressed tightly together. He knew Steve was always there for him. But right now he was trying not to lose his mind.

"Bucky, what is it?" Steve pressed anyways.

"Here," Bucky's voice was quiet, monotone.

To the others, it seemed that he was calm and taking whatever the bad news was, very well. Steve only panicked. Bucky was usually a calm person by nature. He rarely shouted unless it was in good fun, and he hardly ever held a grudge. But if something horrible happened, he shut off. Sometimes it took days, others took weeks for him to thaw back out. When Tommy died, he went around like a mindless robot for half a year. He could function normally, but he didn't smile or laugh. He didn't crack jokes or have it in himself to show any type of emotion.