Don't Forget Me ~Stucky/ Cap. America~

Welcome Home

The day after Steve and Rebekah went on a date, he felt different for lack of a better word. He couldn’t tell if it was because of her or that he went on his first date, but something about him had changed. There was a part of Steve now that grew, evolved even. He felt warm, more caring and more loving than he had been before. Steve felt more compassionate all together.

It was late morning and Steve was still in his grey sweatpants. He had no motivation, no real reason to get dressed. Looking away from the news on the TV and down to his coffee cup, he noticed it was empty. Propelling himself off the couch, Steve teetered to the coffee pot Tony had gotten him. This too was empty. He started to search cabinets not seeing a single bag of coffee.

And right then and there was his motivation; he wanted coffee but had none. Within ten minutes Steve was fully clothes and out the door for more coffee.

Brooklyn looked the same as it always did; loads of people, hustling cars, tall buildings. It hadn’t changed too much since the 1940’s appearance wise.

Walking up to a small convenience store, automatic doors slid open, welcoming Steve with a slight breeze and fresh smell. He only had one thing on his mind, coffee. And a specific one at that.

Pacing to the aisle that was just coffee and coffee products, Steve browsed for his usual bagged coffee. Eyeing it on the second to last shelf, he bent down to grab it, a 40 ounce bag of Starbucks Dark French Roast. Steve meandered to the checkout, paying for it and began to leave.

Steve took in a deep breath and admired the fall Brooklyn beauty all around. It may have been a big city, but the briskness of the air, the satisfaction in wearing warm clothes and the amazing fall colors was just the right amount of fall weather to make Steve happy.

As Steve looked around, he spotted a person sitting on the ground against the convenience store wall, curled into a tight ball, trying to conserve his own body heat. Being the generous patriot he was, Steve took off his jacket and went over to the man.

“Here, sir. Take my jacket.” Steve offered the light brown leather coat.

The man reached up with an arm, accepting the warm jacket. “Thank you.”

Before putting the jacket on, the man looked at it, examining it. He looked up meeting Steve’s liberal blue eyes. “Steve?”

For a moment, there was a questioning look on Steve’s face, trying to remember the man. But through the scraggly brown hair, the red nose and cheeks and the gruff, sore voice he knew who it was.

“Bucky? What- what are you doing on the ground? Why aren’t you at your place?” Steve bent down.

There was no way he could hide it now. If Bucky tried to tell one more lie, Steve would see right through it. After all, it was hard for Bucky to lie to him in the first place.

“I don’t actually have a place to stay. I said I did because I didn’t want to be a burden.” Bucky offered back the jacket trying to allude to the fact that he didn’t tell the truth in the first place and thus doesn’t deserve the comfort.

“Keep it.” Steve said and Bucky obliged to put it on over the exact same black long sleeve he’d worn for so many weeks. “Why would you think you’d be a burden, Buck?”

A mere shrug was all Bucky could respond with.

“Come on,” Steve stood up, offering his hand to help Bucky up. “You’re coming home.”

“I don’t have a home.” Bucky shook his head.

“Now you do.” Steve smiled warmly, still lending his hand out to offer a permanent place of shelter.