(Bucky Barnes) Be Careful, Soldier

63 1 4
                                    

Published: February 4, 2021
Word count: 1330

The candles you were using for light flickered softly; the smallest one more than the others, as though it were fighting for its life. In vain, the tiny flame spun this way and that, but it was slowly dimming, and then it disappeared altogether.

You didn't move immediately, a battle of your own taking place inside your mind as you attempted to convince your body to get up and light a new candle. Oh, how much easier it would be to work by the light of an electric lamp! You'd do it too, if your family could afford the electricity for that.

Heaving a deep sigh, you forced yourself out of your chair and stumbled over to the cupboard, legs stiff from sitting for so long. You yawned as you struck the match against the box, transferring the flame to a new white candle. Distracted, you nearly forgot to blow it out, doing so hastily when you felt the heat approaching your fingertips.

There. That would give you enough light to work for at least another two hours. What was more important than your beauty sleep? Well, that would be your work on Bucky's new army uniforms. Your boyfriend had recently been drafted to serve in the war in Europe. His division, along with many others, was leaving tomorrow morning, and you were in the process of putting the 'finishing touches' on his jackets.

Two hours was apparently all you needed. It was pitch black outside when you folded, and placed the last uniform on the table beside you. The last candle flickered out, and no matter how hard you fought, you couldn't keep your eyelids from drooping shut.

"(y/n)!" Someone shook you gently. "(y/n), wake up!"

You jolted upright, groaning when you felt how stiff your back was from sleeping in that chair. Your mother stood over you, urging you to get up and make yourself presentable as quickly as humanly possible. After all, you wanted to get to see your boyfriend off, didn't you?

"Okay, I'm going, I'm going," you grumbled, making your way to the stairs slowly as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. But then the doorbell rang, and you froze. Was it that late already?

Now you all but flew up the stairs. Never before had you put on a new dress that fast. Never before had you managed to do your hair and makeup in such a short time. Your mom would probably chastise you for not taking your time, but you could not care less. All you cared about was him.

As you descended the stairs again, you could hear him talking to your mother. She was telling him how proud she was of him, and he was in the middle of a reply when he caught sight of you and the words just died in his throat. A wide grin spread across his face as he ran over to you. His strong arms wrapped tightly around your frame and then he lifted you off of your feet, spinning you around in the air.

"Bucky!" you giggled.

"Jus' happy to see ya, doll." He set you down then, his thumb stroking your cheek. Your mother got the hint and shuffled into the kitchen to give you a few minutes of privacy. As soon as he heard the door close, Bucky leaned in to give you a sweet kiss. Gentle, loving, but altogether too short.

It suddenly hit you that this would be the last time he'd hold you like this, perhaps forever, and a tear rolled down your cheek.

"Hey, hey, don't cry, doll!" His thumbs brushed over your cheeks, wiping away the tears. "I'll be back before you know it. I'm a strong man," he flexed jokingly, posing like a superhero, "I can handle any German!"

Despite the ache in your heart, you giggled, drying your eyes.

"I've gotta get going now, else my superior's gonna have my head," he chuckled. "I just came by to properly say goodbye to my girl." His warm hand still cradled your face tenderly, as if letting go was the last thing he wanted to do, but he knew he had no choice.

"Promise me you'll come back safe?"

"I promise," he breathed, "I promise. Doll, (y/n), I swear there is nothing in this world that can keep me from coming back to you. I just want to ask one more thing of you."

"Anything, Bucky."

"Will you wait for me?"

"Of course. I will wait for you. For five years, fifty years, or a hundred years. I'll be here when you come back."

He looked like he wanted to say something, but the growing commotion out on the street urged him to get a move on. So instead he grinned, tucked his uniforms neatly under his arm and playfully saluted your dad, who returned the gesture, as he came downstairs. Then, as he was almost out the door, he bent down to sneak another kiss from your lips. He took off running after that, to join his division in time for the parade before they'd leave.

"Write me!" you called after him.

Slowing down, he spun around, walking backwards now. "Yes ma'am!" he called back, before another soldier practically dragged him along by his shirt collar. You laughed softly at the sight, going back inside to wait for your parents once he was out of sight.

You didn't even want to go to the parade to see the soldiers off; the only reason you did was Bucky. You didn't care about the others, the only one you wanted to see off was him.

From your spot in front of the crowd, you were in the perfect position to scan each row of soldiers for his face. A lady tried to shove you back but you didn't budge; you had fought for your place here and you weren't going to surrender it.

Then you saw him, marching proudly with his head held high. You didn't miss how more than a few girls let their eyes follow his movements and try to figure out whom he was searching for in the crowd. The urge to shout "that's my man!" was strong, but you managed to suppress it; your mother would kill you if you did something so unladylike.

His piercing blue eyes met yours then, and you wanted to pluck him out of the ranks and hide him away safely where no one could hurt him until the war's end, so strong was your love for him. However, you settled for blowing him a kiss. He didn't move, didn't break the pattern of soldiers marching in their steady rhythm without moving anything but their legs, but the wide grin that spread across his face told you he saw it.

Your eyes followed him until you could no longer distinguish his uniform from all the identical ones on the soldiers around him; that was when you let yourself be pushed and jostled until you eventually found yourself at the edge of the crowd, and, seeing no reason to stay, you headed home, hoping and wishing to every deity you could name, to let Bucky return safely to your arms.

Bucky didn't notice anything different until that evening, when he was preparing for his first night on board a ship. As he removed the jacket of his uniform, he caught a glimpse of green thread, green like the grass of the meadow you both went for walks in. He took a closer look, and then he drew in a sharp breath. For the stitches in his jacket formed words, words he could almost hear you say to him, despite the distance between you.

Be careful, soldier. Come back to me. I love you.

He closed his eyes, picturing your face, and then he vowed he would return to you. even if it meant fighting off the devil himself.

He did not break his vow.

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