Chapter 15

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It's been A WHILE and I'm super sorry about that. To be completely honest with you, I've been forcing myself to update this rather than doing it because I want to... for a while now. I'm sorry this took so long, and I'm sorry if I've let you down. Thank you so much for reading this short fanfic I made to cope with Endgame.

This is the last chapter, and my first ever book that I actually finished (I've never finished ANY of my books, even from past accounts oof), and I thank you all for reading it and taking this journey with me. Thank you so much. ❤️
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Steve wakes up to the sound of shouting from the main room, and stifles a groan as he stretches.

Last nights events flood his memory, and he can't help but smile when he sees the sleeping figure next to him.

I could get used to this.

"I literally told you to get some flour three times," he hears Sam's muffled voice through the doors, before letting his head fall back onto the pillow and pulling the blankets up.

"Who's being so loud?" Bucky mumbles in his sleep, furrowing his brows and nuzzling his face into the crook of Steve's neck.

"Sam," Steve replies, combing his fingers through Bucky's hair, making him melt under his touch. "Maybe we should teach him a lesson."

"What do you propose?" Bucky asks drowsily. "Whatever it is, do it later. I'm going back to sleep."

"Okay," Steve replies with a chuckle, placing a gentle kiss on Bucky's forehead. "Go back to sleep, doll. I'll wake you up when breakfast's ready; it's Sam's turn to make it."

"You're the best," Bucky murmurs against his neck, kissing it delicately. "Night night, Stevie."

"Sleep tight, Buck."

Bucky's breaths steady out after a few moments, but Steve's thoughts race. It's not necessarily a bad thing, though... just, incredibly nostalgic.

His mind plays the memories of him and Bucky in the forties like a broken record, going through moments dear to him over and over again.

One of them is the first time they slept in each other's arms.

It was a cold Sunday evening, somewhere in November, Steve can't remember for his life, but he remembers how warm Bucky felt against him. His frail figure against Bucky's much stronger one, the way Bucky had held him ever so gently, as if he thought he would break if he were too rough.

It was also when Steve was recovering from another bout of the flu, when he was still sick, but no longer contagious. At that time, the two weeks of not being together felt almost like a decade, knowing how inseparable they'd been.

In the five years they were apart, Steve had never gone a day without thinking of him. Maybe he was eating dinner, and he thought Bucky would like this particular dish; or maybe he was going for a drive, and he thought that Bucky would like this particular song; or maybe when he was just about to go to bed, thinking how Bucky would feel lying against him.

Everything felt like a hazy nightmare. Bucky wasn't there—half of the world just disappeared in thin air, and everything was quite literally in shambles.

He felt like he was losing his sense of time. It was like he'd repeated the same day, over and over again, for the past five years...

Until Bucky came back to him.

The man lying next to him right now... Steve thinks he's spent all his wishing stars, praying that someway, somehow, he gets to see him again.

And here he is, sleeping next to him, the sunlight seeping in from the blinds making his skin glow. His hair is a tousled mess, but Steve likes it that way. The way slow breaths assures Steve that he's truly there... Steve doesn't think it could get better than this.

It could, really. There are a lot of things Steve would like to re-do, and maybe, somehow, everyone would come back alive and well.

Maybe someday he'll get there.

But for now, this is enough.

Being here, with Bucky, is enough. Anything with Bucky is enough.

Bucky has been taken away from him too many times, over the course of too many years, and it always had to be when he was just getting used to having him back. Just when he'd begun to pick up his broken pieces, and had Bucky place them back together—the universe had made a cruel joke.

Steve should've known this sooner, but it had always been him. All along, it's always been James Buchanan Barnes for him.

All the times he was sick in the forties, Bucky was the one who took care of him. All the times his body ached from military training, Bucky was the one to help him with his bruises. All the times he felt lost, Bucky was always the one who acted as his compass.

With Bucky in his arms, he feels like he can conquer the world. But more importantly, he... after more than a hundred years, finally feels home.

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