A photo from home- Stucky oneshot

A photo from home.

"That's my dame. Pretty thing ain't she." One of the soldiers in Bucky's battalian said pulling out a small photo of him and a girl. The edges were worn from being looked at often and the image was faded from the sun.
"What's her name?" Another voice said, coming from the soldier the first had shown the picture to.
"Jennifer." The first soldier said in a whimsical voice as if he was lost in memory of the girl in the photograph. A small smile graced his face, a rarety here in the frontlines. It was nice to see. Reminded them all of their own people they'd left at home. Wherever home may be. It gave them something to fight for, when the killing and the fighting got too much and they forgot what they were there for.

"She suits it." Bucky said from where he sat a bit away. "You're lucky with that one. Seems a dear thing."
The first man was swept out of his reverance at the sound of Bucky's slightly gravely voice. "Oh yeah she is! But don't you get her angry. Oh lord no, she can be a fiesty one when you don't do her right." A great grin overcame the small sweet smile. His eyes flashed in memory of his girl. The look on his face made Bucky smile too. Smile's were contagious here. Far between but contagious.

"You got a picture, Barnes?" The other soldier asked. The smile on Bucky's face slipped slightly.
"Well, I never had a dame. I had a few girls but never a full on dame. Never one which was only mine." Bucky replied thinking back to all the first double dates and dances he'd had with a couple of girls and Steve. Sure he'd gotten to take a few home but the second date never came. Steve always blamed himself. Said he was ruining Bucky's game but Bucky said they just hadn't found the right dance partners yet.

"You have a picture tho... I've seen you take it out and look at it before now." A third soldier pointed out, joining the conversation. The other men looked confused. Who could be in Bucky's picture if it wasn't a dame?
"Well yeah, I got a picture. It's good to be reminded of what we've left at home." Bucky said without revealing anything.
"Well? What's in it the if it's not a dame?" The more confident second soldier asked. They wouldn't give up. Bucky knew it. It's the reason they're such good soldiers.

Sighing, Bucky took out the picture to let his nosy friends look at. His was less tattered than the other soldiers as Bucky didn't look at it so often. Too special for him to damage. "That's me and my friend Steve after a day at Coney Island. We'd love going there when Steve was well enough." Bucky started with his own vision of the lights of the carnival making Steve's blonde hair glow as Bucky towed him around, arm firmly wrapped around his narrow shoulders. "He was a sickly kid. Couldn't join the war despite being only a few years off myself because of it. He's like... well hell he's more than a brother to me. I was everything poor Steve had after his mom, Sarah died. Big brother, Old man, Mom, Roommate. Hell I was his doctor too. People said I should have just given up on him and let him fend for himself... but I couldn't. I guess I have now huh."

Bucky looked down, eyes dark. He had no clue how Steve was doing on his own. No way to find out here. He knew he could count on Steve though. He was a little fighter. Shame he was so often unwell and so small in stature. He would've made a good soldier, Bucky thought. And yet, he was ever so thankful that Steve was never let into the army, no matter how many times he tried and no matter how much he wanted to help. At least he was safe back in Brooklyn, fighting punk lads and not Nazi's. He snickered at a memory of his tiny friend whielding a dustbin lid shield.

"We all gotta have someone to fight for." The first soldier said smiling at Bucky. Bucky smiled back slightly shocked. He'd figured he'd be called weird or even queer to have a picture of him and Steve and not some hoozy.
The conversation turned to times the others had shared with their ladies and Bucky looked back down at the picture he held. It was the only picture he had of just him and Steve. He smiled as he remember corndogs and costers, tucking the picture carefully back into his pocket.

Someday. Someday, the war will end. Someday, he'd see Steve again, and they could go back to Coney Island, just the two of them, and have a bang up time. Someday... Someday he may even be able to tell Steve how he really feels; tell him how the thought of hugging his bestfriend again pulled him through the endless feeling days on the frontlines and the worse days of Zola's torture that came after. Steve really was more than a brother to Bucky, and much more than a friend.
Much more.

A/N: I find old timey American slang so damn cute. Do you guys still use it occasionally? It's so much nicer than the slang here in Manchester. Anyway, I hope you liked this. It was written on route to a holiday in Whitby a week ago. There was no wifi at the campsite I was staying at so I couldn't upload it til I got back and I couldn't even tell my bestfriend for her to proof read it for me. Killed me as I had no one to tell about my adorable little fic I wrote. Anyway, sorry it was short but yeah it's short but sweet. I hope you guys like it. See ya.

Also! For any eagle eyed (or should I say Hawkeyed), devoted Marvel fans out their who might have noticed, the girl in the picture is called Jennifer for a reason. As an after thought during editing, I thought how funny it would be to have the soldiers fiesty girlfriend that you don't want to get angry, have the same first name at least as She-hulk. If you noticed that, comment so I can be super proud that my fic has reached a devoted fan of not just the films but the comics also.