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One more time.
He just needed to see him one more time.
He knocked on the door, asking, "Steve?" Though he wondered why he bothered; he knew he'd let himself in. The door creaked as it always did and the floorboards groaned. Why was he sneaking in to a place that felt like home? What was he afraid of?
"Steve?"
Steve appeared out of the darkness so fast Bucky drew a quick breath, startled. Dammit! Was he really ready to be a soldier if his scrawny best buddy could take him by surprise?
But, regardless, there he was, little and eager and familiar...and looking worried. Bucky wanted to see him; that was the plan all along. But at 3 am, his reason seemed absurd.
Just one more time.
Steve's eyes were wide, his hair mussed. His jacket was off and, wait--were those suspenders? Bucky's own worry spiked. Where were Steve's pajamas? He always wore pajamas. Had he already been awake? Had he never gone to bed? Steve's lower lip had a cut down the middle from the earlier fight and there was a graying on his left cheek: an early bruise. Did something else happen? Was he all right?
But Steve asked it first: "Are you all right?"
Bucky raised his brow. "Me?"
Steve spread his hands and made a jabbing gesture. "Yeah, you. Aren't you supposed to be shipping out?"
One more time.
"Uh, yeah. I just..." Was he being absurd? It's 3am. "I, well," Bucky shrugged. His uniform, still so pressed and starched and new, made a noise every time he did that. He searched for a little bravado and grinned. "You didn't really give me a fair goodbye. Thought maybe you wanted another chance at it."
Steve chuckled, his worried face melting into the soft smile Bucky knew so well. "Is that right? What about that girl?"
"Oh, her?"
"He's a good guy, you know? But I worry about him." Bucky stared at his hat as he turned it around in his hands. The corded edge of the rim caught a bit of streetlight it was so new. "I always told him to believe in himself, and he does, but sometimes it seems a little too much."
Maggie sighed and leaned back hard against the stitched leather seat. "You know, Bucky, for a guy who's shipping out tomorrow and sitting in this car here with me, you sure talk about your little friend a lot."
Bucky shrugged again; his uniform seemed even louder than before. "Didn't work out."
"I figured you'd take your chance."
"Yeah, me too." Bucky frowned and glanced at the floor. He really had meant to and she seemed keen. She even wrangled up a friend's car so they could go parking. But he couldn't stop his mind from spinning: Who would rescue Steve from the alleys? Who would look after him in the Fall when his breathing got so bad? What would Steve do if Bucky didn't come back from this?
One more time.
Bucky cleared his throat. "So, they didn't arrest you at your--what was it? Your sixth enlistment attempt?"
"Fifth. And, no."
"Are you done trying?" Maybe that was what Bucky needed to hear before he left, needed to know Steve's crazy behavior had come to an end, that he'd realized 4F was better. Staying here and being safe was better.
But Bucky knew Steve like a brother, like another part of himself. He noticed every little thing. Like no pajamas. And the slight tension that suddenly appeared across Steve's back as he turned away. No one else would have caught the hesitation before Steve said, "Yeah, I'm done."
He also knew when Steve lied--partly because Steve lied like a nun in confession--and this wasn't a lie. Bucky thought he should press on, ask again, ask another way because something wasn't right. There was something Steve wasn't saying.
Bucky swallowed that thought away. "Well...good." Prodding might make Steve argue with him and that was the last thing Bucky wanted for this one last time.
"I'm going to miss you, you know. You complete knucklehead."
Steve turned back around and smiled. "You think you're not going to see me again?"
With a rustle of starched linen, Bucky shrugged again. This was it; this was his goodbye. He should have lined something up. He should have made sure someone would be looking after his Steve. That thought weighed him down now; his arms felt heavy with it.
But, a little unexpectedly, Steve's smile didn't waver. "You'll see me again."
It took strength, but he had it. Bucky lifted his leaded arms and grabbed Steve by the shoulder; he pulled him hard against his chest. They hugged--hell, they hugged all the time, but Bucky held him a little bit tighter this time, just a bit longer.
So did Steve.
After a moment, Steve cleared his throat and slowly pulled back from the embrace. "It's going to be light soon. You'd better be going. Can't have you AWOL before you even start."
Bucky nodded. His throat ached, tight and full of emotion. He took a long, deep breath and turned for the door.
"You look good, Buck."
Bucky looked over his shoulder and smiled. "So do you, Steve. Don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise."
The floorboards groaned and the front door creaked, just as it always did and Bucky walked down the stairs from Steve's tenement room. For one last time.
The End