The heart that truly loves never forgets

Oneshot

Bucky woke up like every morning to the sound of his alarm clock. Now that the nightmares were no longer waking him up every night, he needed this little device.

Like every morning he got ready to go for a run. He went through the kitchen, drank a glass of water and then walked through the door of the house.

He liked to run in the morning when the sun had just risen and illuminated everything with its warm glow.

His morning run through the streets and around Delacroix was a path of memory. It was like running through the streets of his most beautiful memories.

He has a lot of other memories he wanted to forget.

The memories with Steve were good memories, but they were also memories of a world he would never find again, of people he had not had time to mourn.

There were also the memories after Steve, the memories of his nightmares, the memories of who Hydra had forced him to be.

So yes Delacroix was the place of his most beautiful memories.

While passing in front of Carlos' house, Bucky remember of his long discussions with the old man around a beer in the evening. Carlos who knew everyone here, who had many stories to tell. Stories about Sam's childhood. Stories that resembled Bucky's childhood, except that his were from another time. But it was the same carefree spirit.

Then Bucky runned past the dock, remembering the day he had brought the new armor to Sam, where he had been welcomed by an entire community that had shown him no distrust and had welcomed him as one of their own. He remembered the night he had shared a beer with Sam, on the boat. Sam who had told him to stay.

Bucky continued on his way, still running, his steps bringing him to the clearing of Sarah's house, he could almost still hear the sound of the shield bouncing off the trees. The memory of this day still vivid. The day Sam had shown him the way, had given him the keys to find his peace of mind, to begin to heal, to truly heal. The day Bucky knew that what bound him to this man was more than friendship, partnership or whatever names they gave to it.

Then he passed the meadow that served as a soccer field, with makeshift goals. He spent time there at least once a week with Sam's nephews AJ and Cass and their gang of friends. The kids took a liking to him and fought to get him on their team. Often the soccer games would end with a snack where the kids would often ask Bucky to tell his war stories. Another way for him to heal.

As every time he reached the end of his run, Bucky felt filled with a warmth that made him forget his years in the cold cellars of Hydra. All the memories stored in his head since the first day he came here, were slowly replacing the memories of death and loneliness.

They were trivial memories. The place where he had first tasted a po-boy and later the Gumbo. He had made everyone in the restaurant laugh, unaccustomed to such a spicy soup, he had cried so hard and had endured Sam's jokes about super-soldiers who were in fact delicates flowers for days. Bucky smiled softly as he remembered this time.

Because every memories he has with Sam made him smile.

Like the time they had watched the first Star Wars, Sam had ended up being exasperated because Bucky had so many questions that the movie had lasted 6 hours instead of 3.

Bucky remembered fondly the day Sam gave him a new notebook. He had told him that this notebook was not about the past, but about the future, and that Bucky should write down everything he wanted to do, a kind of bucket list, even if it were things that seemed impossible. So Bucky started his list. He always carried this little notebook with him and the lines kept piling up, while some were crossed off once accomplished.

Only a few more strides, the corner of the street and he would be in the straight line that would lead him home, to Sam's home, to their home. Every time he thought about it, his heartbeat accelerated, not because of the physical exertion, but because of the meaning this place had for Bucky.

Because of all the memories of happiness he had at this place.

Memories of the first "I love you."

Memories of moving in, unpacking boxes, finding places for everything.

Memories of the beginning of a life together, of learning to live together, accepting, giving and taking.

Memories of the nights, of not waking up alone, fearful because of the reminiscence of the winter soldier, but feeling safe in the arms of the man he loved.

Memories of shared meals.

Memories of shared intimacy, of caresses in passing, of hands that linger, of shared kisses.

All these memories every day renewed, different, changing, but always a source of happiness and joy.

Bucky continued to run, arriving at the goal, and as he approached, the figure became clearer and clearer, as always leaning against the patio of the entrance, a mug in hand, Sam was waiting for him, letting him finish his race of memory.

Because Sam knew, he always knew all about Bucky.

Everything started with him and ended with him.

Five years ago, when after the party Bucky had grabbed his bag to leave, desperate to quit the only place he felt at home. But Sam had stopped him, asked him to stay, backing up his words with more than persuasive kisses. Then Bucky had left only long enough to get his things before settling down at Sam's place.

He slowed down his race, to stop in front of Sam who had put his mug on the balustrade and who was looking him from above because he was on the second step.

As always Bucky looked up and Sam kissed him, a coffee-flavored kiss that left its mark on Bucky like all the memories that had accumulated since he had decided to settle down.

Finally Bucky embraced Sam, resting his head against his stomach as Sam put his arms around him and whispered above him, "Good morning Bucky, did you have a good run?"

"Always love, because you are the starting point and the finish line, and in between there are only happy memories."