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Chapter Text

1.) 1925

The first time it happens, they are both scared as hell. Of course, Bucky says he isn't scared. After all, this had been his idea and he is the older one. He isn't scared. Steve just keeps thinking: 'If our parents find out what we are doing, they're gonna skin us alive.'

It had started harmless enough. With neither school nor working for Mr. Lonan to gain a few extra cents - being born on a national holiday has its advantages - Steve and Bucky have spent most of their day messing around the city. They went to the park, met with some other friends from school, all in all, a pretty normal day off. Except for Totti to call him 'America Boy' the whole day and them all gathering to give Steve his present. It wasn't anything special, a self-made pie, but it was more than Steve ever would have expected. None of them really have money but they'd thrown a bit together to buy the ingredients and Lily had backed it with her mum earlier that day. Of course, they all ate the pie together and Steve couldn't have been happier.

Bucky hadn't given him a present. That's okay, that's not what it's about. Honestly, them becoming such good friends in such a short time - it had been strange, Bucky had just saved helped him with those bullies but somehow that was enough, they always ended up spending their time together after that and being around each other became almost second nature in the last four months - that's the best present Steve could get and he is more than grateful for it.

Steve had invited Bucky over for dinner but the other had declined, said his Ma had been fussing over the cooking for days now and he can't just not show up, he had ditched looking after Becca and Louise the whole day after all. Consequently, Steve had been a little bit disappointed - maybe a bit more than that, perhaps? - but he did his best not to show it. Good thing they had been walking back home side by side so neither saw the other's face. Steve, on the one hand, wasn't good at hiding his disappointment- or anything, really - from Bucky and Bucky, on the other hand, felt guilty for ditching Steve. He has a plan already in motion though; he can't throw that away now. And his mother would probably ground him for weeks if he won't show up for dinner, that wasn't a lie.

That means it had been Steve and his ma alone, like every year beforehand.

It's not bad, his mum is always trying to make the best of it. And it's nice, just the two of them having as fancy a dinner as they can afford, a little more and a little spicier than normally and dessert. There's always dessert on his birthday even if Steve doesn't know how they can afford it. He doesn't ask, because his mother won't tell him anyways and it always made her sad when he did ask. Not obviously sad, of course, Sarah Rogers is a mother after all. She is good at hiding her pain but Steve is also good at seeing it. They never talk about it either way.

After dinner, Sarah had sent Steve off to bed, because it's a school day the next day and that means he needs sleep. And because Steve is a good son he actually plans on going to bed. That's until he hears something knocking on his window. Startled, he turns around to... to do what exactly? Defend himself? Fight of an intruder? It doesn't matter anyway, because the window opens and a brunet head pokes into the room. "You ready for a little more fun, Rogers?"

Now they're sitting on the top of Steve's building and Steve once more repeats: "You're crazy Bucky!"

The older boy only chuckles and shoves Steve's shoulder: "Don't be a baby. We won't get caught."

Steve only huffs, shakes his head and pulls his legs closer to his chest. It's cold up here but that's only part of the reason for him to make himself smaller than he already is. He's also grinning like an idiot, because Ma would never allow him to stay up long enough to catch the little bit of firework they could see from their block and now he's sitting up here with his new best friend, doing something they aren't allowed to do and up high enough for them to see much more of the firework later. Bucky doesn't deserve to get the satisfaction of seeing Steve grin like this when he's actually got him to do something really bad.

Of course, Bucky still sees the younger boy grinning and grins right back, leaning back on his hands to watch over the slowly darkening New Yorker night sky. "And", he stretches the 'a' way too long while he once more shoves Steve playfully, "you're happy you came out here with me. Don't you dare deny that, Stevie."

Bucky's, of course, using that nickname to tease his friend - best friend - and it works wonderfully as Steve turns to glare at the older boy.

"Doesn't change the fact I hate you for dragging me along," the blond boy's voice is flat but there's no seriousness in it which shows by the smile growing on his lips once more. His Ma would be so angry should she find out what Steve's up to right now. And it would be Bucky's fault but his Ma surely wouldn't believe that. In her eyes, Bucky's the responsible one. Yeah, sure. Only because he saved Steve from one or the other bully since they met? Nu-uh. He's actually a really bad person sometimes. His Ma doesn't believe him. He kind of knows himself that it's rubbish. Bucky is more responsible. Probably. But he also has bad ideas that will get them into a lot of trouble.

That's why Steve shoves back with more strength than necessary when Bucky starts laughing at his comment. Rude.

"You couldn't hate me", Bucky says between chuckles while readjusting his position next to Steve, "and even if, you do owe me." "Do not," Steve is stubborn with his reply, his arms now crossed on top of his knees as he keeps his eyes on the darkening night sky, not wanting to miss the first firework's explosion. Bucky's only reply is laughing and copying Steve's position by pulling his own, slightly longer legs to his chest but keeping his arms wrapped around them. "Sure do," is the mumbles reply, but that's about it and Steve doesn't respond to it either. He knows Bucky's right, doesn't mean he has to acknowledge that.

They keep silent for a few minutes, content just sitting next to each other on the rooftop. It's windy up here, not necessarily cold wind but Bucky unconsciously positioned himself exactly the way to catch most of the blow nevertheless.

"It wouldn't do you any good," Steve starts up again, his head tilted now as Bucky frowns and looks at him confused, demanding an explanation wordlessly. Steve turns to look at the other boy and continues, uncrossing his arms so he's now copying Bucky's position: "Well, my Ma's going to ground me until forever when we get down here anyway so me owing you ain't gonna do much..."

"Oh, cut your pitying, your mum won't even fin-", Bucky starts but gets interrupted by Steve whose giving him a literate death stare: "Of course she will find out, idiot. My Ma smells that. And she's going to ground me forever because you pulled me up here and she's not going to believe me that it's your idea!"

"It's not like that-", again, Bucky's protests are cut off as that happens to be the moment when the firework starts and Steve's head whips around immediately. His idiot of a friend would really be the reason for him to miss the whole firework. It's decided, Steve does hate him. Well, at least until the blue, red and yellow-white fireworks light up the sky and therefore the roof around them with their colors. Steve doesn't even realize his jaw dropping in awe at the view from this high up. It's as incredible as Bucky had promised, and even if he did realize, he wouldn't care either way. This is worth every grounding or lecture he'd surely receive from his mother once they get back down. This would be worth the end of the world, it's just so...

"Wow!", the awe-filled sound escapes his lips more as a gasp than as anything else.

A smile grows on Bucky's lips and he takes a second to let his eyes wander over to the smaller boy next to him. He had seen the fireworks every year since he was six and they hadn't lost their awesome, capturing... something. The nine-year-old doesn't have a good word for it. He's still feeling that every year but seeing Steve's eyes light up like this - not only from the fireworks reflection - as he's seeing this wonder for the first time? That's kind of as great as the firework itself. Bucky leans closer towards the other and whispers in his ear: "Happy Birthday, Stevie!"

Steve doesn't look away from the brightly lit night sky but a smile forms out of his awestruck expression as a response. It turns into a full-blown grin as soon as more fireworks start bursting in the sky and that prompts Bucky's own smile to brighten.

It takes a few seconds before Steve finds his voice and answers with a hushed: "Thanks, Buck." His voice is quiet as if he doesn't want to break the spell of the moment and it causes a chuckle to escape the older boy's lips who's by now leaning back on his hands again. Blindly, Steve reaches behind him to hit Bucky - he only catches the brunet's knee - a prompt to just shut it.

Of course, Bucky doesn't listen and only starts laughing louder. An annoyed huff and a demanding 'Shut it!', from Steve later, Bucky's only chuckling quietly under his breath and looking at Steve with that tilted half grin. For a few minutes they stay silent, Steve watching the fireworks with awe and Bucky gazing back and forth between the sky and Steve.

"It's great, don't you think?", he asks after a while, his gaze now fixed on the sky, pointedly looking away from Steve. "What?", the blond asks, not really having understood Bucky's words but also annoyed. That tone is reason enough for Bucky to laugh again and shove Steve playfully once more: "All these fireworks, and only for your birthday!"

"Oh, don't be an idiot," Steve mumbles, shaking his head without paying much attention to Bucky at all. He's talking complete rubbish again. "Why'd ya say that?", Bucky replies, scooting closer next to Steve. The younger boy only snorts - it sounds like a chuckle - and shakes his head to which Bucky explains: "What? It's the 4th and that's why there's a firework and that's your birthday so the firework is for your birthday."

It sounds reasonable enough, in the words of a child. It's not really logically wrong either. "Yeah, sure, Buck. Guess you're right," Steve mumbles, grinning up at the night sky and scooting closer to Bucky as well. It's kind of unconscious, the slightly larger boy is... warmer. There's no good in them freezing to death up here right? He really doesn't want to die on his eighth birthday already. "'M always right," Bucky responds with a sly grin on his own.

Of course, Steve's mum had figured out what they did and Steve got a real stern lecture but she only sends him back to bed - for real this time - no skinning or even grounding involved.

Of course, Bucky told Steve 'I told you so!', the next morning when they were walking to school and Steve told him to 'Shut it', while shoving him against the shoulder.

Of course, Bucky swore they'd do the same thing again next year and every year after because, of course, they can't miss the firework for Steve's birthday, that'd be a shame.

Maybe, in the end, it was worth it and Steve kept grinning at the memory for a long time. In the end, Bucky's present had been the absolute best one that year.

Chapter Text

2.) 1933

Half his life. That's how long Bucky now is Steve's best friend. They met when Steve was about seven and a half years old. Now he's 15. That's half his life. Fucking crazy.

Climbing up to either his apartment building's rooftop or Bucky's on the fourth has become second nature as well. With his Ma not minding it anymore after two years of sneaking out, it has always been a similar routine. Either eat with his Ma or together with the whole Barnes family - those are the years he loves best - then up on the roof and just sit there for hours as if they don't have a care in the world.

This year is different, though. Bucky had outgrown him long since. Really, he has shot over his father by now but puberty hadn't done him bad like most boys around. He's grown 'big and strong', like the old ladies around the block love to say whenever they see them on the streets or come over and insist on sharing what little food everyone has. Steve has been afraid to admit it to himself but he knows he can't fool himself. Bucky's become more and more handsome and Steve knows to him that's not simply an admission among best friends. He curses himself every time for thoughts like that but he can't keep them away either, he knows it's wrong but he can't set it right. He can only keep quiet about that.

Anyways, he isn't the only one who has figured that out, because the girls started to recognize it as well, turning Bucky into a heartthrob. And Steve? Steve's the small, puny appendage that the girls mostly ignore. If they can't get rid of him, fine, doesn't mean they have to acknowledge his existence. At least that's what it mostly feels like.

Today was no difference, they'd strolled through the streets, it had long since started to only be the two of them most of the time, another thing Steve doesn't really understand. Bucky is actually pretty popular and he could easily gather a bunch of friends in no time but he prefers to spend his time with Steve, the sickly boy anyone only accepts around as a necessity that hangs behind James Barnes. Steve had asked Bucky about that a while back and Bucky had only laughed and pushed Steve hard enough to nearly send him falling onto the street before Bucky slung his arm around Steve's shoulders, catching him out of reflex, before saying: "Don't be a Punk, Stevie." Bucky had probably thought that Steve wouldn't see the mixture of sadness and anger in the older boy's eyes, it was only there for the split of a second after all, but Steve had seen it and never talked about it again. He couldn't help but ask himself though.

Especially on days like this that start off completely normal and end up with Bucky, one girl on each arm with his charming smile and Steve trailing behind like a loyal dog. At least that's how it always goes, no matter how much Bucky tries to include Steve in all of this, it always ends the same. Normally Steve doesn't care too much, maybe tries to hit a little harder in the fights after that - not that he'd admit it or that it'd do any good either - but he doesn't let it show, at least he hopes that he doesn't.

It's just a little more disappointing when it's your birthday, maybe. Well, that's the reason why he's home early that day anyway and greeted with a frown from his Ma that he probably wasn't supposed to see. He had tried his best, really, but it had been to no use and he had just gotten angry and didn't want to ruin this wonderful day for Bucky. He'd tried to excuse himself but he doubts they had even listened to him before he had simply turned around in the middle of the park and went back home. It had been busy and loud in the park, Steve hadn't heard or seen Bucky turning almost immediately and calling for him.

Dinner with his Ma had been nice, as always. It's not bad only because they are alone and don't have the money for a really fancy dinner. It's still great and of course, there is dessert. It doesn't change the fact that Steve's not really eating, more sluggishly poking around his food and trying to keep up with the conversation. When his mother asks him what the matter is he only shakes his head and goes for a fake smile - which of course doesn't convince Sarah Rogers in the slightest -, saying: "Everything's fine Ma."

He had put more enthusiasm in his actions after that, which wasn't that hard because the apple pie was delicious and his Ma got him drawing paper as a present, nothing special but he had been close to running out of it so it's the absolute best present. The only suspicious thing must have been him taking as much time as possible to help his mother clean up the plates and kitchen until she quite literally shoved him out of the door with an almost demanding smile. It hadn't been a bad day, of course not, just maybe not the greatest birthday. Steve simply wasn't in the mood to walk two blocks and climb the fire escape up to the rooftop. He wasn't even sure if Bucky would be there, surely, he's still busy with Ally and... whatever blondie's name was.

That's why Steve's reluctantly dragging his feet, taking incredibly long for the normally one-minute walk.

It's nearly dark when he reaches the fire escape and he keeps staring up, hands in his pockets for the longest time before he finally starts climbing up first on the dumpster to reach the lowest ladder and then floor after floor.

As usual, he's out of breath after reaching the second floor but this time he doesn't stop - like he normally would. He's long since sick of listening to his sickly body but normally he has enough common sense to still do so. Not today though. That's what gets him gasping for breath reaching the second highest floor as he hears a thud above him. He turns his head upwards a little too quickly - having almost sprinted up here if one can compare running to climbing like that - and his vision gets blurry. Thank god he had only been on the second step so he could grip the banister next to him when he slips from the ladder and gasped breath turns into outright coughing.

"Shit, Stevie!", comes the call from above which is followed by two more thuds before Bucky's kneeling next to him - when did he sink down the banister anyways? Wonderful... just perfect.

Steve presses his eyes shut, the grip on the banister not loosening while he tries to get his breathing - or more accurately asthma attack - back under control. Soon enough Bucky has his arm wrapped around Steve securely and pushes him forward so his arms are resting on his knees and he can breathe better, at least a little. He's still coughing like crazy and getting barely enough air in his lungs. He doesn't really hear what Bucky's saying to him, it sounds like he's asking something. What? Steve can't concentrate, getting enough air in his lungs is a much greater concern right now. It takes quite a while for him to calm his breathing enough for him to finally hear Bucky again, luckily that's the last kick he needs to simply force his breathing down, which hurts like hell and probably leaves him even more breathless but at least he isn't coughing anymore and while Bucky's voice stays concerned at least he stops pleading for Steve to calm down and just breath. Instead, he sounds more relieved and says: "That's it, Stevie. It's alright."

Bullshit, it's nowhere near alright and Steve curses himself for his body's weakness. He forces in a deep breath - which burns like hell but does its job - and attempts to get up again, only for Bucky to stop him and pull him back down, trapping him in an embrace: "Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing, man? You just had a fucking asthma attack, dammit!"

"Let me go, Buck. I'm alright", Steve responds and tries to wiggle out of Bucky's stronger arms around him to no avail. Bucky only tightens his grip and mumbles something that vaguely sounds like "I'm not" but Steve isn't sure. Still, he stops his struggling for a few moments and wraps his own arms around Bucky. The few moments aren't enough to make the aching in his chest stop but it's enough for him to start breathing regularly again and he pets Bucky's arm a little awkward before attempting to pull away again: "It's okay, Buck." This time Bucky actually lets him go, albeit Steve believes his actions are a little reluctant. That's why Steve tries his best to smile at the older boy who only frowns and pushes Steve away, shoving against his shoulder and getting up in haste.

"What the hell, Steve?", is the only thing Bucky says but Steve's pretty sure he knows what Bucky's asking. He's not only referring to why Steve pushed himself into an asthma attack but also why he is as late as he is and why he stormed from the park and why - generally speaking - he has been acting strange the whole day. It's not hard for Steve to figure out what 'what the hell' is supposed to mean right now. Still, he only shakes his head and grabs the ladder to pull himself up as well: "I don't know, doesn't matter, come on."

He starts pulling himself up on the ladder only to be pulled back down when Bucky simply grabs his shoulder: "Are you crazy, Rogers? We're getting down here right now!"

It's in that moment that the first firework explosion echoes above them and Steve only stares at Bucky and shakes his head, he's still too out of breath to argue now but he's damn certain he's not going to climb down again either: "Forget it. Do what you want but I'm going up there, upwards is the shorter distance anyways."

With that he shakes off Bucky's hand and starts climbing, not looking back again until he has reached the rooftop once again breathing hard but forcing down the coughs stubbornly.

Of course, Bucky followed him immediately, concern winning over annoyance and anger. Yes, Steve had been acting strange all day but this tops everything. First, he leaves Bucky believing he's either started some back-alley fight again or simply isn't coming at all and then when he does show up he's trying to ignore an asthma attack? Steve Rogers might be a stubborn Punk who has no clue when to shut his mouth for his own good but he's definitely not that stupid, not normally. Something is wrong and Bucky needs to figure out what.

Steve, on the other hand, would prefer to just forget about this whole day and never talk about it again. Still slightly gasping for breath he sinks down near the roof's edge cross-legged and leans forward on his elbows again, eyes closed against the bright light exploding in the sky. After a moment he feels Bucky sinking down next to him, a strong arm wrapping around his shoulders. The other boy is silent, doesn't even look at Steve, which he realizes when he steals a quick gaze up at Bucky's profile.

His expression would look blank to any stranger but even from the lowered position, Steve catches the hint of concern, confusion and also anger. And still, Bucky's arm is around him, his thumb lightly stroking Steve's shoulder in a calming manner. The angry, jealous part of Steve wants to pull away and ignore the other just as he had been ignored the whole day but there's a greater part in him that enjoys the contact too much to let go of it.

Therefore, he stays exactly where he is and takes his good time to calm his breaths until taking a deeper breath doesn't hurt like hell anymore. Really looking up at the burning night sky for the first time this night, Steve scoots a little closer to Bucky and is immediately pulled against the others side in response.

Good thing Bucky's eyes are still fixed on the sky as well or otherwise he would have seen Steve's cheeks heating up with a blush in an instant. After a few more moments of watching the firework in silence Bucky speaks up again, his tone careful and silent: "You really scared me back there, man."

"I know," is Steve's equally silent reply and instead of a 'sorry' following his words he lets his head drop on Bucky's shoulder.

They never talk about stuff like that because Sarah and Bucky refuse to treat Steve like a cripple as everyone else does. That's another part Steve lo-likes so much about Bucky, he doesn't treat him any different because he's sickly. And most of the time he even pretends not to care. Of course, that's not always convincing and things like this show clearly that Bucky does care, maybe too much for his own good sometimes. But they still don't lose many words about it, because that quiet 'I know' is saying enough for Bucky to shut his mouth again.

There is, in fact, a lot more Bucky wants to say right now but he has no clue where to start. The only thing he knows for sure is that something about this doesn't feel right. Not the way Steve is cuddling up to him or his own arm wrapped around Steve, no that's perfect and Bucky would never let go if he could. Somehow it gives him the illusion of all of this being right, that they're safe like this, save from sickness and poverty and... ruining everything.

Stop! He's not allowed to even think about it!

But there's still this strange feeling because this whole day turned south and Bucky hates himself for it. Sure, he's come to appreciate the attention from the girls as well - which is very good because that is right - but he always hates them swarming around him and cutting Steve off all the time. The worst thing that could have happened today, really.

But what was he supposed to do? His Ma raised him to be a good man after all and he couldn't just dump a gal like that to run around the city with his best pal all day. He still hates himself for what happened but instead of saying anything he simply pulls Steve that tiny bit closer and allows himself to drop his own head closer to Steve's. Not yet touching but close enough for Bucky to breath in that cheap scent of Steve's soap and if he closes his eyes for a second too long it's not because he wished he could lose himself in this moment. Not at all. It's just a reassurance that everything's somehow alright when they are sitting here like this, together, safe.

It's quite the while, the firework dying down already before Bucky moves again. He pulls away from Steve, who immediately misses the warmth of the contact but doesn't say a word, only looks over at Bucky curiously from his position on the ground. "Can't forget about that," Bucky mumbles as he gets up and picks up the bag he had left on the roof before he went to go and look for Steve. Opening it up while he walks back over to Steve, Bucky pulls out a small paper package with a simple cord ribbon around it and hands it to Steve. "It's not much but...", he trails off, Steve reaching for the package carefully with a bright smile already forming on his lips. "You aren't supposed to get me anything at all and you know it!", the smaller boy complains because that's what they agreed on long ago and never stuck to it when they got the chance to: they don't buy each other presents neither for their birthdays nor for Christmas or anything else. So far that had actually worked maybe once. "Yeah... I know. Just open it up already, Punk!", is the impatient reply as Bucky sinks down next to Steve again, a guarded smile forming on his own lips as if he's unsure about the present. "Jerk," Steve replies with a shake of his head, his smile still bright on his lips as he starts pulling open the ribbon. It doesn't matter what it would be, the fact that Bucky got him something at all is the greatest gift to Steve anyways. That doesn't stop the surprised sound escaping his lips or the laugh that follows as he throws his arms around Bucky, the package placed in front of him with the greatest care. "Oh my god, Buck! Are you crazy? Those are amazing!", he beams and hugs Bucky as close as he can, prompting the brunet to wrap his own arms around Steve with a small and relieved chuckle.

The package included one pencils and two colored pencils, blue and light green, not expensive at all but Steve doesn't want to know how many extra shifts Bucky pulled to afford them nevertheless.

"Happy you like 'em," Bucky replies, the laugh clear in his voice as he pulls Steve a little closer. "Like 'em?", Steve replies unbelieving, "You are an idiot, Bucky!" With that, Steve buries his head in the crook of Bucky's neck and pulls him as close as he can with little strength.

Somehow, that was enough to make the whole day perfect. Steve easily 'forgave and forgot' about the messed-up morning, because in the end it didn't matter, did it? And when Bucky started with a 'Listen, Steve, about earlier-' Steve cut him off with a simple 'Shut up' and it was alright, somehow.

That's simply how they worked, they don't need to talk. Steve knows that Bucky's sorry and that he's going to blame himself a little while longer, the reason why, after loosening the hug again, Steve leans his head back on Bucky's shoulder.

And Bucky knows that Steve's not really okay with what happened but disregards it in favor of this calm moment and he knows that it's gonna be hard work to avoid what happened next time, the reason why he would try even harder and why he's now wrapping his arm around Steve's shoulder.

Their lives might not be perfect, not even close to it, but it is more than enough as long as they have these quiet moments every once in a while. Of course, they'll never admit it, how much those moments mean to them or - god forbid, it's so wrong - how much they really need them.

It was very late, dark but already brightening up again when they climbed back down.

Bucky could have sworn he woke Jack up for a second but the sleepyhead fell asleep again right away and no harm was done. Steve, on the other hand, didn't realize his mother had woken up. Sarah Rogers had considered scolding her son for coming back home this late, but instead, she had just smiled and closed her eyes again. At least that meant everything was really alright now.

And that it was because no matter how shitty the day was, it's alright when at the end of the day both her boys fell asleep with a smile.

Of course, Sarah Rogers couldn't possibly know that, but a mother feels these kinds of things, like an instinct maybe, and she wasn't mistaken at all.

Chapter Text

1937

Bucky's sitting at their small kitchen table, turning the heavy paper in his hands over and over. It looks expensive, formal, a joke, really, because, in the end, it's gonna be his fucking death sentence. Worst of all, probably Steve's too. No matter how much Bucky hates to admit it, Steve isn't really capable of self-preservation and above all Bucky has no clue how he's supposed to even gain the money to get the possibility of trying.

Shit. He's almost ripping the damned piece of paper apart as tightly as he's clutching it. Why does all of this have to happen now? Sure, so far, he's far from being called anywhere but once you are in the army your life ain't yours anymore. It's just going to be a matter of time until he's going to leave Steve alone because god forbid this Punk's ever getting in and if Bucky has to move heaven and hell to avoid that.

It's already late, their used plates lying next to the sink to dry. In general, their flat is cleaner than it had ever been before it turned 'their's' in the first place. Sure, Sarah Rogers had been a very orderly woman, but nobody had the energy to keep that up with every day that she got more and more ill. And even before that Steve had always let something lay around. Not anymore, though.

It had been like a snap, taken almost exactly a week after Sarah's death of Steve being completely unrecognizable to Bucky before he went on one complete day and cleaned the whole flat, turned it upside down. Most of Sarah's things had been sorted into boxes, to give away, to sell, most of it to throw out and then the two small boxes that now stood in Bucky's old room at his parents', things that Steve wanted to throw away before Bucky stopped him because he knew that Steve was not at all thinking straight and would regret it later. It had been horrible to see his best friend like that, filled with so much anger and grief and misery but at the same time looking like a lifeless shell of himself.

Bucky had kept back the whole time while Steve did all the work, not stopping to eat, barely to rest whenever Bucky needed to force him to. At the end of the day Steve had handed Bucky Sarah's key and that's how Sarah Rogers' old room had become his in a matter of two days. He didn't sleep there for a long time, because sure, he had discussed this with his parents a long time ago already but facing the fact was harder than he thought it would be. He had lost a mother as well.

It was easier to just stay with Steve anyways, it kept them both calmer at night and soon it got colder outside and with everything that had happened, there wasn't enough money to buy even much food, no matter how many extra shifts Bucky pulled to get them through the winter. Steve had tried to push everything away, looked for work, overexerted himself and ended up with another set of pneumonia around December. Bucky hated to admit it but that had scared the hell out of him because he couldn't lose Steve as well! It hadn't been that bad but the fear lingered nevertheless. All in all, it had been a horrible half of a year.

Frowning, Bucky throws the crumbled piece of hateful paper on the small table as he gets up to peer out of the window, already dark outside and Steve isn't back yet. He had excused himself after their very poor version of dinner, soup and a slice of bread for each of them and went for a walk. He should have been back ages ago.

Bucky closes his eyes and shakes his head with a huff when the realization drops where Steve must be. 'Punk!', is the last thought in his head before he sneaks into Steve's- uncharacteristically orderly - room and climbs out onto the fire escape.

Steve has been sitting on the roof quietly, knees pulled up to his chest for what felt like hours when he hears steps on metal behind him. He sighs as the metallic sounds stop and not long after a figure sits down beside him cross-legged. For a long time, he and Bucky don't say anything, only look up at the slowly darkening sky. "It's strange", Steve starts slowly, quietly, "this feels wrong and right at the same time."

That statement causes Bucky to frown and he almost asks Steve what that's supposed to mean now until Steve speaks up again as if he had read Bucky's thoughts: "A lot does, actually. Everything's different now and still, nothing is. And I'm stupid enough to hope this wouldn't be."

Bucky has to close his eyes and swallow, because dammit Steve's voice sounds so fucking empty. It isn't like that all the time, on most days everything's rather normal, but it has been the same, okay, worse actually, on Thanksgiving - Sarah's favorite holiday -, later the same on Christmas, New Year's, why would this be any different? Still, it feels like a well-aimed punch to the gut. "Stevie...", Bucky starts even If he knows he shouldn't and he's immediately met with the expected response: "Leave it, Buck. It's alright."

The 'It's not and you know it', lingers on Bucky's lips but he knows there's no good in voicing it. He has become tired of trying that, the response is always the same. Instead, he slings his arm around Steve's shoulder and pulls him in a little closer because this is just them so it's okay. They're alone, it doesn't matter and that's also why Steve lets his head drop down on Bucky's shoulder. The blond wouldn't admit it but having Bucky with him almost 24/7 - whenever they aren't working of course - now, it's good and it does help because, in the end, it is indeed better to not go through this alone.

Sure, he wouldn't have been alone either way but he probably couldn't have kept the flat on his own, not speaking of the fact that staying here alone would have probably killed him sooner than any sickness could have. That thought almost prompts him to chuckle but he can stifle it before it escapes him. If Bucky knew Steve's thinking about that now, today of all days, he'd probably hit him over the head like he did a few years back. Steve had been sick - on his birthday, what an irony - and joked that he wouldn't make it to his twenties anyways. Bucky - and his ma, but that thought hurt too much to think it through because now she's the one who won't see him turn twenty… - hadn't liked that joke at all. He had looked at Steve like he had just punched him in the gut and said: "Don't say shit like that Stevie, not today, you hear me?" Later that day Bucky had made Steve promise he'd make it to his twentieth birthday and Steve, half asleep and with feverish eyes, had looked up at Bucky with as much strength as possible and said, because Bucky couldn't hide anything from Steve and the younger boy knew Bucky was scared: "I swear it, Buck. On my mother's life, with good as my witness."

His voice had been anything but strong and he'd started coughing right afterwards but it had done the trick nevertheless because Bucky had helped him up a little but laughed at that comment despite the concern in his eyes: "Okay Punk, I believe you."

If he should make it to next year - he'd damn well give his best to - Bucky'd probably make him promise the same thing for his thirties. 'Well, on condition that he's still here then,' Steve thinks a little bitterly and scoots closer to Bucky. It really isn't fair, that Bucky got called in and Steve didn't, even if he was the one who dragged Bucky to enlistment in the first place. Sure, he hasn't given up in the slightest yet, he would get in one way or another, but it still isn't fair. The traitorous part of his brain tells him that he simply doesn't want to lose Bucky but he knows that it's wrong because God knows where they'd be trained or sent to someday, no guarantee they'd be stationed anywhere near each other. Whatever that part of him is telling him can't be right.

His thoughts are interrupted by the first fireworks exploding in the distance. Steve shakes his head mentally and scolds himself to just enjoy this, forget about all the shitty stuff, even if just for a few minutes. That doesn't work that bad, because a few minutes into the firework, Steve chuckles, which earns a questioning gaze from Bucky: "What's so funny, Punk?"

"You remember," Steve starts, his eyes still fixed on the light brightening up the night, "what you told me up here eleven years ago?"

Bucky only shrugs, of course, he remembers but the smile on his lips tells enough, he wants to hear it from Steve. The smaller blond only chuckles and pokes Bucky in the side, who, naturally, shies away from the touch which almost causes Steve to fall. He only laughs that off and says: "You really have the memory of a goldfish."

"Hey!", Bucky calls, shoving Steve right back, "Like you said, that's eleven years ago, sorry for being a human being and forgetting stuff."

They're both laughing as they scoot back into their old position and it takes a bit of calming down before Steve starts: "Maybe you were right."

Another break until Bucky nudges Steve's head with his shoulder, a silent 'go on'. "There's firework because it's the 4th and that's my birthday. Technically those fireworks are for me."

Even if Bucky knew what Steve would say that statement manages to erase the throbbing still lingering in his stomach and instead fills it with a warm, cozy feeling. "Sure as hell are, Rogers," he jokes and squeezes Steve's shoulder where he once again has his arm slung around him.

'They really should be,' Bucky thinks, because there's no other man Bucky knows who's better than Steve. Sure, he's an idiotic Punk and everything but he has the purest heart anyone could ever have and too brave of a soul to be good for anyone, the least himself. It's just a shame that barely anybody sees that, only those who know Steve well enough to look past appearances. Okay, Steve isn't really letting anyone that close on purpose, simply because he's a stubborn, idiotic prick sometimes but if anyone deserves to be seen for who he really is, it's Steve. That kind of morality does deserve recognition. It's a shame barely anybody agrees with him on that.

The rest of the evening is spent in silence because it's simply easier than talking, especially with everything that's on their minds. It's not like this is the first hardship they're going through, but that doesn't make it talking about it any easier. Not talking had always worked, at least in the beginning. They don't necessarily need words, by now they know each other forwards and backwards, well enough that sitting with each other is enough of talking. Still, Bucky can't help feeling like a Damocles sword is over their heads but Steve scooting even closer to him almost drains that tension out of his muscles. It's like the blond can read his thoughts, scary if he'd be ready to admit that to himself.

It is the first time in ages that, directly after the firework ends, Steve gets up and says: "Let's head back down, Buck. I'm tired."

And, because that mind reading thing works in both directions, Bucky only nods and lets himself be 'pulled up' when Steve stretches his hand out, a silly excuse to give the other's hand a reassuring squeeze 'I'm here, Stevie, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon'.

That's at least a great fantasy he allows himself, even if only for this evening.

Steve simply smiles up at Bucky before he lets go of the other's hand - maybe a second too late, but what does it matter up here? - and starts his way down the fire escape back to their apartment.

Sarah Rogers' old bed stays untouched that night without any more words needing to be shared.

Chapter Text

1940

Being a freshly promoted Sergeant does have its advantages. Such as a weekend pass over four days for the Fourth of July. And it couldn't have been better timing because Bucky hates himself every morning now, because even if Steve told him he's going to be okay on his own that doesn't mean that Bucky likes the thought of leaving him alone, bedridden with some kind of cold or whatever, definitely a fever.

Sure, the military's fee isn't that bad compared to everything he's earned before, enough that they could even afford the meds the doctor had suggested this time but Bucky's mind is still drifting of back home every once in a while, during camp, leaving him unfocused and making mistakes.

Maybe that's also the reason why he got the weekend pass, he had seen the look his superior had given him, but what does it matter? He got out of camp with the first train on Thursday morning and upon getting home - Steve luckily still asleep, he needs the rest - made breakfast for both of them.

Not telling had been a great idea when he wakes Steve up and is immediately greeted with a tired but genuine smile.

"Buck, wha-", the raspy question had been interrupted by a short coughing fit which Bucky had answered by handing Steve a glass of water, the younger man accepting it thankfully.

The following "Thanks," hadn't been as raspy anymore but Steve still took his time before he tried for the question again: "What are you doing here?"

"Weekend pass," was Bucky's sly response as he placed the glass back on the nightstand, "came with the level-up." The nod to his shoulder - he's still wearing his uniform - gets Steve focusing on him a little more clearly, squinting before his head drops back on the pillow: "Sergeant Barnes, hu?"

His voice is too low to hold much emotion, still, Bucky's pretty sure he can still hear the badly hidden jealousy but he knows better than to get on that train of arguments. "Well, someone has to show these idiots in camp how it's done," is his lame excuse. Lame not because of his tone but because it's complete bullshit and he knows it, camp is nothing and they're all fearing the day they'd get their notices, some more than others, if they want to admit it or not.

The day had been calm, Steve mostly sleeping off his fever, which was a good thing, and Bucky just resting, he ached all over.

That calm had stayed until Bucky had woken up Steve in the evening, because "You have to eat something, Punk! God, how am I supposed to leave you alone at all like this?", and that last part had done the trick. If there's one thing Steve Rogers hates it's being treated like he can't take care of himself. At the same time, Bucky cursed himself for waking up his stupid best friend, because not half an hour later did he come up with that even more stupid suggestion: "I wanna see the fireworks, Buck."

Well, his response had been obvious and immediate: "Are you out of your damned mind, Punk?"

That doesn't change the fact that the quiet "Please, Buck," had done enough to push his buttons, hell who knows, this could be their last fourth together for everything they know.

No matter what his reasoning was, now it's dark outside and Bucky's sitting on the roof with Steve - bundled up in a blanket with one underneath them as well -, his head resting in Bucky's lap, eyes closed.

A sigh escapes Bucky as he reaches forward with his right hand and starts stroking Steve's hair, the fever really broke, thank god. He allows himself a moment to take a deep breath and closes his eyes, god he's tired but if he can do that little bit for Steve and get him up here to see the fireworks that's worth it.

His eyes snap open with the first exploding firework and he searched the sky for the light red fire before his gaze shifts back down to Steve whose eyes are still closed.

"Hey, Punk," Bucky starts, nudging Steve's shoulder until blue eyes blink up at him sleepily, "I didn't carry you up here for you to miss out on the firework."

The only response he gets is an apologetic smile before blue eyes turn towards the sky and the body in his lap scoots closer to him. For warmth most likely, because Steve's shivering like a leave despite the blankets. Immediately Bucky has his arm wrapped around the shivering form which is met with an approving hum.

They don't speak at all while the fireworks explode in the sky, Bucky's left hand only finding its own way to Steve's hair and Steve leans into the touch.

The firework is shorter than normal this year, Bucky figures there's not so much use for fireworks when a war's raging on the other side of the stupid ocean and you can use the firepower elsewhere. That's why Bucky almost misses the finale but he's quick enough to lean down and says: "Happy Birthday, Stevie."

He's surprised when at the end of the firework Steve struggles to push himself up, refusing Bucky's helping hands in favor of just pulling himself against the stronger man in a hug. If it weren't as strengthless as it is even a stranger could describe it as desperate but of course, Bucky gets that nevertheless and hugs Steve back with the others lacking strength added to his own. "Thanks, Buck," and Bucky knows that it's not only for today but for much more because Steve might be jealous, wanting to be in Bucky's place more than anything right now, but he still knows that all of this is fucking dangerous. That any day Bucky could get his notice and would ship off to god knows where. Maybe after all the end wouldn't even be an illness but a freaking war started by a few maniacs on the other side of the fucking ocean.

Right now, Bucky just feels like crying, these thoughts are exhausting.

But he swallows that down and buries his nose in Steve's shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent that he's come to link to home and simply deciding he'd never let go of it, no way in hell.

They stayed like this for the longest of times until Steve - half asleep again - started shivering even more in Bucky's arms and the older man decided to call it a day, waking up Steve enough for him to cling onto board shoulders as Bucky carries him back down to their apartment.

Steve didn't stop shaking until Bucky got into bed with him and pulled him close once more, maybe it was a bit more than just cold causing the shaking after all. Bucky didn't care, he slept better with the reassuring huff of breathing against his collarbone anyways. Camp was hell sometimes when he lay in his cot on his own, tried as hell from another training day but he simply couldn't sleep because there was something missing. Someone, but he'd never dare admit that to anyone. Well, Steve probably knew, he'd be as used to this as Bucky is.

Thing is, it also helps to just shut up his brain, something that never seems to work in Camp. Bucky's asleep after only a few minutes.

Sure, that wasn't the best birthday ever, when is it ever when you're sick on your birthday? But it was good enough because they were together, that's what matters the most after all. Who knows if they will be able to do the same next year?

Chapter Text

1943

You don't really keep track of the date in the field while you're on a mission, there are more important things to care about.

This month is different though. Bucky knows exactly that it's July, Sunday the 4th, he wouldn't forget that no matter what hell he is being put through. Honestly, what kind of monster would forget his best pal's birthday?

It's just... different. Sure, last year had been horrible because the only thing he could do was write a god damned latter - one that, as far as they know, got lost somewhere on the way, Steve never got it either way - and he had felt terribly alone. Of course, every American had been a little homesick that day but they'd made the best out of their day, celebrated their own fourth with smokes and some god-awful brew. Nobody understood why that couldn't cheer Bucky up like it did everyone else.

It had even gone as far as him quitting the evening and one green eared Private had asked him: "What's the matter, Sarge'?"

And Bucky hates being called by his rank on a normal day but then he simply accepts it, that's the military after all but that day he really didn't wanna joke around.

"Nothing is 'the matter', goddammit. Don't ya all have enough of your own shit to deal with?", and he didn't mean to snap at the kid but then he did and couldn't take it back so he stormed off into the forest on his own - not too far from the camp, he, in fact, doesn't have a death wish. Somewhere at some tree he stopped, considered kicking the stupid thing and then just sunk down with a defeated huff, pulling at his hair to distract himself from that damned pulling in his chest.

Great, just great. The whole camp must think he's lost his mind now that the war is getting at him. Well, welcome to the real world assholes, the war's affecting them fucking all, he's just tired of fighting not only the damned Krauts but also his own god damned mind. Quitting the one fight he can was too easy to not do it, especially not that day.

It had been a fucking awful 4th of July.

Compared to that year, freezing his ass off on some stupid mountain in damned Austria is actually quite okay.

Even if their landing was further off than Leo Banter threw back in school - the guy smashed a window during sport more than once - and now they aren't sure if they'll have enough rations for the way back but they have a clear mission and they are actually doing something that matters. And, most importantly, he isn't that fucking alone this year.

He'd made his friends among his brothers in arms of course but most of them got their fucking faces blown of or shot to shreds or whatever and he remained to wonder why them? Why not me?

Not that he wanted to die, hell no. He wanted to get back home more than anything. The thought came to mind nevertheless. And back in Azzano, he had been sure that'd be it.

But no. No, his stupid Punk ass of a friend had come and he has turned into some American superhero, that fucking self-sacrificing bastard; Captain America, a fucking joke that is.

Bucky had been angry as hell, because Steve was supposed to be safe, back home, where he fucking belonged, not fighting this god damned war, he was so ready to kill the bastard with his own hands on their march back to allied territory.

They had probably hugged for an hour in that tent when the greatest fuss had been over.

The bastard even got his own one in camp, what the hell? After Bucky had gotten the 'good to go' from the medics, Steve had insisted that Bucky needed rest but there had been debriefings and Steve needed all the help he could get with them. He might be stronger and healthier now - mister American Superman or whatever - that doesn't make him any better at talking to superiors.

And talking they had to do! Steve, being the stupid, 'punch-first-ask-questions-later' Punk that he is, did of course storm into that Kraut - or Hydra, whatever - base all on his own, with help from Agent Carter and, who would have thought, Howard fucking Stark. Sure, Phillips had dismissed Steve from the disciplinary actions but that doesn't mean people weren't furious, no matter how many people Steve saved.

Well, Steve had fought his way tooth and nail and now they're here in the woods on a mountain in god knows where because Steve got his mind. An elite combat unit or what they call them. Howling Commandos, absolutely ridiculous, but it's what got them bunch of strange people together. And they really are good people. Dugan, Jones and Morita he knew from camp, barely and had gotten to know them better during their time in Azzona. They'd been locked together in a cell beforehand and had taken care of him when he'd got beaten up and fallen ill. Later he learned that Dernier and Falsworth were in their cell as well, trying - and getting their part of beating for it - to protect Bucky while he was sick and when they came for him for their crazed experiments.

And they are all very skilled soldiers, no lie, they are quite the force together on their secret missions. But that's not the reason why he isn't feeling this loneliness anymore.

He can even breathe easier since Steve is with them and he hates himself for that even more. Steve should be home, safe, not be here, fighting 'the good fight' as god damned 'Captain America', running around, painted like a target. God help him, that Punk's gonna drive him insane one day.

Still, the traitorous part of himself is very aware of the fact that he feels better with Steve around. It's not nearly like back home, back home is a completely different world, a different life by now, because neither he nor Steve would fit in the picture of that tiny flat in Bucky's mind. They aren't those Brooklyn boys anymore and it scares Bucky like hell when he realizes that he doesn't care about that either. What kind of monster had the war made out of him?

Well, not one as bad as that he'd forget his best pal's birthday.

After 'dinner' - really, military rations can't be called 'dinner', it's barely food - Steve had volunteered to take the first watch like usually. It seems like he doesn't sleep on a mission at all but he doesn't seem to need it either. In the beginning, they had all protested but it had become some sort of routine, Steve taking the first watch, mostly on his own as the six of them left were mostly tired like hell after a day of marching or whatever command put them into that time.

Not today, though. Bucky had announced he'd join Steve and his tone had left no room for any argument, leaving Steve only to nod as Bucky already made his way past him up to the slightly higher lookout spot near their makeshift camp.

It's not a long walk up there but they're silent except for their boots on the frosty ground as they climb further up on the mountain, out of the protection the few trees around their camp offer. Up here they can see a good few miles around the camp, enough to keep them secure through the night, even if it's unlikely that anyone would find their way into this god damned forest in the middle of nowhere.

Finally reaching the 'lookout' spot, Bucky sinks down pretty gracelessly, pulling his knees up a bit so he can prop his arms up on them and only looking over when Steve shifts to copy his position next to him. It's fucking impossible, they are even the exact same size now!

A tried but sly smile on his lips, Bucky pulls the package of smokes out of his pocket - only four left - and holds it out to Steve who takes one with the slightest frown on his forehead. At least his face is still the same, and the way he smells, just like Steve. Like home and not being alone.

For a while after Bucky lit their smokes they don't talk at all but it's not long before the dry chuckle finally escapes Bucky's lips: "Happy Birthday, Punk."

Afterwards, he takes a long drag of his cigarette and blows the smoke into the cold air around them. Steve follows that movement, just with less dramatic motions and replies quietly: "Thanks, Jerk," before he drags another deep breath from the smoke.

That prompts another unbelieving chuckle to leave Bucky's lips which he explains without having to see the frown on Steve's face: "Hell, normally you'd probably be halfway dying from a drag like that, Rogers. Geez."

At first, Steve is at a loss what he's supposed to say to that, they've passed the part where Bucky's angry about what Steve did and Steve doesn't apologize for his decision because he's convinced of what he did. They had their tiring argument about that but Bucky still won't let it go with throwing him little comments like that.

What is he supposed to say? Sorry for being healthier now? Geez is about right buddy... "You're probably right," is Steve's quiet answer, more mumbled than anything but Bucky still understands him and chuckles once more. "'M always right, Rogers," he replies and, after a moment of hesitation, lets his head drop down on Steve's shoulder simply because he can do that now. It's just strange, that used to be the other way around, just like so much else. But now Steve's the one shielding him from the cold as he is, like Jones loves to say, 'like a freaking, walking space heater', radiating heat even in the cold of Austrian mountains.

"What are we doing here, Stevie?", the question sounds almost innocent as Bucky pushes himself away from Steve again to take the last drag from his smoke, not yet putting it out in an attempt to maybe keep his hands a little warmer. The answer "Taking the first watch", is just as unnecessary as it could be but it does its job, causes Bucky to really laugh this time and sink back against Steve's shoulder.

This is almost like on the rooftops, it's quiet and private, just between the two of them, therefore it's okay to give in to the pulling inside of him. Just for this moment of warmth, it's alright. Or at least Bucky can pretend, imagine that it is. He knows how wrong they are, his thoughts, this pulling inside of him. Steve simply doesn't need to know and as long as he isn't running from him it's gotta be okay somehow, right? Bucky allows himself this little time of illusion, what else can he do in the hellhole that's this war?

"You know what?", the brunet asks finally and Steve only hum to show he's listening, "I miss the fireworks."

Sure as hell there are none in the middle of nowhere in a forest in America either but... there's no chance of finding them in god damned Austria on the 4th of July. Of course, Bucky knows that, still he can't keep from missing the red, blue and white explosions in the sky and Steve seems to pick up on that train of thoughts because he nods, Bucky can feel it from the way the other's shoulder moves underneath him.

"Yeah, me too."

"Where were you last year?", Bucky asks almost immediately, the thought crossing his head completely unexpected. With his letter never reaching Steve and them knowing nothing about the whole 'Captain America' deal he never had a clue what Steve did on that day.

Apparently, Steve doesn't remember too clearly either, because Bucky can almost hear the frown in the other's voice: "I think I was in... Vegas? Or in DC, I'm not really sure, one came after the other. It was an enormous show either way and there where way too many fireworks, believe me."

Bucky has to swallow down his rage at that, clenching his jaw and pressing his eyes together.

'They made him into a god damned Circus show', is the flaring hot thought rushing through his head. That's the last thing Steve deserves.

Unconsciously he scoots a tiny bit closer to Steve - for warmth, always only for warmth - because no matter how bad this whole war is, Bucky will always rather have Steve fighting by his side as a hero than mimicking some PR ape, just because the generals and government love that idea. Steve deserves to be seen as the hero he always has been, even if Bucky hates the danger Steve is putting himself - them all actually, but Bucky only partly cares about that - through to achieve that.

With a deep sigh, Bucky opens his eyes again. "I'm glad you're here now, then," that's a straight out lie. Bucky wishes for nothing more than for Steve to be safely back home but they both know the 'here' doesn't refer to some mountain forest in Austria.

"Yeah," Steve starts to repeat his words from earlier but lets his head drop sideways to rest on top of Bucky's before he finishes, "me too."

Sitting somewhere on lookout, freezing their asses off in Austria might not be the best way to spend your best pal's birthday but right that moment that had to be enough.

Neither Steve nor Bucky focused on securing the area that night, too busy with their own thoughts and Bucky even drifting off once or twice, surrounded by the wonderful warmth that Steve provides now. Steve even thought about sending him back to camp to really get some sleep but he was too selfish to let him go in that moment. It's his birthday, after all, he gets to spend it as he wants, at least a bit, doesn't he? Well spending what little time of peace they have here with Bucky is the closest to the perfect present he would get now.

Winning the war and getting them all back home safe would be the greatest one, but Steve is still realistic.

'Next year', he promises himself, because any other thought would be too sad. Next year they'd both be sitting back on that rooftop, most likely after Dinner with the rest of the Barnes family, all of them safe and sound. Yes, that's how it will be like. Steve doesn't allow himself to imagine anything else even if he knows of the dangers that come with fighting a war. Even if the people see them as the indestructible Howling Commandos, they are all still mortal men, no super serum would be able to take mortality from them and Steve is very aware of that fact.

But there's also another thing that he's very aware of as he looks down at the dozing man on his shoulder. He can't lose Bucky. He wouldn't, simple as that. No matter what will happen, if they win the war or if they're still fighting, god forbid, lose it, next year Bucky will still be by his side. That's one promise he has to keep and if it will be over his own dead body...

'To my mother's memory, with God as my witness', he thinks and lets his eyes wander over the parameter to check for any danger. He will get his men through this war and then Bucky and he would go home, whatever may come.

Strange, how war gets you on such grim thoughts on your birthday. Well, maybe it isn't his birthday anymore? Steve checks his watch, 00:07.

"Next Year", he whispers quietly, which startles Bucky awake again but they both act as if nothing happened at all, the same when Denier and Jones come up the mountain to change shifts two hours later.

Time to catch a little sleep, they still have some way to go if Steve wants to keep his promise. He knows deep down that he has to because if they don't get home safe together, he isn't really sure if either of them ever will...

Chapter Text

1.) 2014

Thankfully, DC, especially on a national holiday, is not as loud as New York is nowadays. Somehow everything hadn't only tripled in size - except for electronic, that's mostly thinner and smaller than it should be possible - but also in volume. The year he spent in New York after he 'came back from the dead' had proven that much to him. The celebration and fireworks had even been too loud inside his apartment; he didn't even consider going outside anymore.

He didn't when he moved to DC either, he somehow... couldn't. It wouldn't be the same, just like everything else is now completely different. But at least he wasn't reminded of that with too loud music and fireworks everywhere in DC.

This year is different, though. Long before it got dark he's sitting on the rooftop of Sam's building. Even if he'd rather be out there, continuing their search, he understands Sam's reasoning. He wanted to be home for the holiday and even if he didn't admit it Steve saw that Sam needed a break. It wasn't the plan that Sam practically dragged him back to DC with him but now here he is anyways.

What a waste of time. He should be out there, looking for his best friend, dammit! He had already let him down often enough, he couldn't take a break for some silly celebration now when Bucky needed him!

He knew just as well as Sam that their search was pointless so far and would continue to be until Bucky decided he wanted to be found, which he obviously didn't want so far. It is frustrating but Steve would never give up. He'd find Bucky and bring him home, and be it the last thing he does.

He's too caught up in his thoughts to register the footsteps behind him until Sam's voice startles him out of them: "Happy Birthday, Captain!"

Steve can almost hear the grin in his voice and turns barely quick enough to see Sam spread his arms: "Enjoying the show on your big day, huh?"

Confused at first, Steve turns back to the sky that is by now lit by too many colorful fireworks. He hadn't heard the firework starting at all. "Hm, Yeah."

"Well, the firework's only for you now, representing America like no other," Sam comments as he sinks down and of course he doesn't realize the impact those words have on Steve. Blue eyes, fixed on the turned bright night sky, turn sad as he replies: "It seems they really are now."

That's what Bucky always told him, 'All those fireworks and only because of you'.

He hates them even more for it. Back in the day, he brushed those comments off but now he wishes they had never come as true as they are now. He's America's number one representative hero and Captain America almost screams for being the face of America's national holiday. He could do without all the attention very well.

There's only one person whose attention he could want today and he had been looking for him without pause for months without success now.

A tired sigh escapes him and it's almost scary how quickly Sam catches up with him, he's so used to only Bucky being able to read him like this: "We're gonna find him, Cap."

Is he being that obvious? If so that would be embarrassing if it wouldn't be true. Since he knows Bucky, despite all odds, is still alive somewhere he's missing him more than he ever had while mourning his death. Knowing he's there but unable to reach him, always being ten steps behind, feels horrible and the memories of a day like this don't help with that feeling.

Not being alone helps a lot, Steve has learned that in his life well enough and he couldn't be more thankful for Sam to put up with all his shit. He couldn't wish for a better friend; except maybe one. One that he'd go through hell and back for over and over again if he could just get him back. No friend would ever close that gap Bucky left in him when Steve thought he had died. Still, having Sam at his side helps a lot.

He doesn't want to imagine what Bucky must feel like, all on his own god knows where. Does he even remember? Knows what day it is? If he's somewhere in the states he'd surely find out but that doesn't mean he knows.

Even if so, Steve would help him remember. They would find him, no matter the cost, Steve would bring him home, like he promised back in '42.

***

What Steve doesn't know is that Bucky already is home. The memory is blurry and everything looks different now than it did over 70 years ago but the ally feels strangely familiar, it literally hurts to be here.

But it's quieter than out on the streets. Bucky doesn't understand why everything is so loud today, people screaming and explosions in the distance. He feels like there's something important he's missing - it's like that most of the time now - but he's too busy trying to drown out the way to loud sounds, mismatched hands pressed to his ears painfully, crouched into the corner of some buildings back entrance that hasn't been used in years.

It's too loud to think straight, too loud for Bucky - that's really his name, he remembers that, he remembers him calling him that, before the bridge, blurry memories - to remember why he came to this big loud city. He grew up here, he remembers that too. He did as well. They were... friends? Best friends? Bucky isn't sure what that really means but he remembers that he is safe, he needs to protect him. That had been his very first mission.

But why this city, why now when it's so loud here that he can't think? There's something, something that's too important to forget, something's missing.

'Happy Birthday Stevie!', the sky lights up blue this time as they sink down on the rooftop, feet dangling over the edge.

The image in his head makes him smile until the next row of explosions goes off. His head whips around; where's the fight?

Old metal creaking under his shoes as he carries the blond boy up the last three ladders of the fire escape. Stupid Punk really doesn't know when to quit, does he?

Before he catches up with himself Bucky's already swung himself up on the old fire escape. There's a reason he's here. He has to get away from the explosions. It has something to do with him. He has to find cover. He can't be damaged. He has a mission.

He's too small to reach the first ladder of the fire escape on his own but not to climb up on the windowsill on the ground floor. It's still a big jump but he's a big boy now, no problem. He also has a plan! Up one level and pushing open the window that doesn't really close anymore. Shit, why does it have to creak now? Great, now he's spooked the blond. Whatever:

"You ready for a little more fun, Rogers?"

He has a mission, above finding Hydra, destroying Hydra. They won't get to keep going with what they did. To him, to the whole world; to him. But there's another mission. He's almost reached the rooftop now and the explosions are getting louder and louder with every step. He can hear it, feel the electricity tickling above his head. He has to find cover.

They're sitting on that rooftop for the longest of times and despite the warm summer days, the night air cools down and after a while, they're cuddling closer together to protect each other from the cold and give shelter from the cold breeze up here. Bucky's hopefully catching most of it, even if it already got him shivering a while ago. Better him than the smaller boy beside him.

He doesn't remember why but something inside him tells him he'd be safe on the roof. It makes absolutely no sense if there are explosions and he doesn't know where they come from he should look for a secure shelter, not an open rooftop. It goes completely against his programming and still, he does it. It's more than confusing. If it just wouldn't be so loud anymore and he couldn't think.

There's a frown on his best friend's forehead and Bucky watches for a while, amused until he says: "Don't think too hard, Punk, or you'll hurt yourself."

He's promptly shoved in the shoulder for that comment.

Reaching the rooftop, it's not as bad as he figured it would be. It's actually... nice? It's still too loud, the lights too bright and he's moving to the stairwell to find at least a little cover out of habit. Nevertheless, something about being up here is calming, yet there's still something missing. Something about the parameter isn't right.

Their laughter is probably way too loud and they'd be in a hell of trouble if they woke up Mr. Lironelli living on the top floor but it's too funny not to laugh.

A chuckle - he has never... done that before, or has he? It feels familiar, but it's no part of his programming - escapes him at that image in his head and that - it's not an image, it's his... a - memory suddenly makes the sounds more bearable, because he knows he's heard them before. Not only the tickling electricity but these explosions. But he hadn't been alone. He had been with him. Of course he had. They are best friends and even if Bucky isn't sure what exactly that means he knows that he is important. He is the missing part. But he can't be with him, not now, not like this, not with Hydra still out there. He's dangerous, he remembers too little, something's wrong with him and he can't put him in danger. He has to eliminate that danger, eliminate himself if it becomes necessary. The most important mission is to keep him safe.

He doesn't remember which handler that mission came from or how he ever could forget that mission but he knows very well that he can't fail.

For the first time that knowledge doesn't spike deep down from fear of punishment. That knowledge is going deeper than his programming. He can't explain it, but the idea of failing that most important mission hurts in a completely new way.

Protecting him is too important to fail and if that means he has to work against himself to accomplish the mission, so be it. Strangely enough, imagining having to put himself out as well hurts just the same; it had never been a problem before. It shouldn't happen but if he became an inconvenience, steps have to be taken. That's logical. That's what is needed of him.

That's what he was programmed to do. Complete the mission at all costs, even his life if necessary.

But the idea hurts now. He doesn't want it to hurt because that's confusing. It's not supposed to hurt.

But being with him, that had always hurt, or is that an illusion? He can't be sure. He can't rely on himself anymore and that is more than freighting. He could always rely on his programming to work but he is the exception. Maybe that's why this mission so important? It's him. He's different, important.

Bucky had completely ignored the uncomfortable feeling and moved to stand by the banister around the roof - that's new, another new parameter - his hands clenching the fragile metal bar.

The too bright light still lights up the sky and suddenly Bucky knows why he had to come up here. This isn't as important as his mission, never as important as keeping him safe but...

"Happy Birthday, Punk!"

He's confused when he feels something wet dripping on his hand, looks up at the sky. There are no clouds, it's can't be raining. He can taste salt on his lips, his hand reaching up to his cheek. Wet.

He's crying. He isn't supposed to cry. Why is he crying?

There's still that pulling, that hurt that's so different and somehow worse than real pain. He can't fail. There is too much depending on it. He is.

He realizes what is hurting then. Not something's missing, but someone. Him. And that hurts worse than hell - he knows, he's seen hell.

Another drop lands on his hand and he lets his head drop, his whole figure sinks in. Then something unexpected happens, his voice... it breaks. Fits, he's broken anyway. He has no use but that one mission anymore. Who would need a broken weapon anyways? He's not supposed to feel that. It goes against his programming. Everything concerning him goes against his programming... maybe that's why his voice - another part of him, more of the weapon - breaks:

"Happy Birthday, Stevie..."

Chapter Text

2018

"Let's hear it one more time because it's so much fun!", Tony's, slightly drunken, voice carries over the sounds of a busy, celebrating New York and is followed by a bunch of voice calling a toast out into the night sky: "Happy 100th Birthday, Cap!"

There might be one 'Captain' coming from Thor among their but it doesn't change the effect or the following laughter and cheers when another round of Stark Industry's best firework lights up the sky above Avengers tower.

When he came out of the ice the world had been way too quick, loud and confusing. It's still way too quick and it's still loud and sometimes confusing but now he isn't alone in it anymore. He has found himself a family. He's finally come back home.

It had taken losing it in a snowy ravine to realize his home had never really been that tiny Brooklyn flat. He never believed in those cheesy quotes like 'home is where the heart is' but now he is not so sure about that anymore.

Not when the one person who can make him feel like he's at home in this way too quick world is laughing next to him about something Natasha said, his arm slung around his waist. No, with that much luck at your hands you can't just not believe in some kind of wonder.

He still can't believe any of this, even after three years since getting Bucky back it still feels like a miracle that he can lean over and press a kiss to the brunet's temple while he slings his own arm around his boyfriend's shoulders.

Damn right, boyfriend. If there's one thing in the world Steve would have never imagined happening, it's that but here they are, surrounded by their friends, their family and it really is right.

Oh, and they fought for it, so long but Steve would never give up that fight ever again. He would never lose Bucky again. It had been a hard way from the moment on that Bucky appeared on the doorstep of the motel room Sam and Steve had rented for the night on their fruitless search for Bucky after the events with Ultron. It had really been like Sam had said, they'd find Bucky when he wanted to be found.

Well, someone finding him had really been his last step taken, because as soon as Steve had opened the door Bucky had smiled tiredly at him through the blood staining his teeth before he literally collapsed into Steve's arms, the younger man's name still on the brunet's lips.

That first week had been a mess, with Bucky severely wounded but no way to get help, except from Tony, maybe, but he had been on vacation with Pepper and nobody knew how to reach him, not even Happy or F.R.I.D.A.Y., his new AI. Everybody else was out of the game on a secret mission, or a training mission, or lost in space. A hospital - or any official place, really- hadn't been an option either; how were they supposed to explain this?

It left them stuck in that motel room on their own. Sometimes Bucky had enough control of himself to remember where he was and why he was with them but more often than not he lashed out like a wounded animal, tore the wounds and stitches open again on more than one occasion which of course stretched out the healing process even longer.

But he had pulled through and together they managed the rest of it as well. Sure, sometimes worse, sometimes better. Recovering hadn't been easy for either of them and it would continue to be an issue for quite a while still, they all know that. But it is getting better. Not only does Bucky learn to not only be 'The asset' but his own self - not the James Barnes from the 40th, he'd never be that person again but that's okay - again but also Steve has come more and more alive in the modern world. Old Peggy Carter - delighted at seeing Bucky once more and instantly recognizing him, because no Alzheimer's disease would make her forget either of the Howling Commandos, not with her say in it - had said they, in fact, did save each other and nobody wanted to agree out loud but somehow, they did agree anyways. Except for Tony, he loudly agreed from the beginning because: "I've known that woman my whole life and so far, she hasn't let me down by being wrong!"

None of it made the memories, the fear or the nightmares go away, for neither of them, but not going through it alone and with a team, a family being there for each other in a strangely loving and hating way, that made it all bearable after some time.

Bearable enough that nobody is jumping at the bright lights exploding high above their heads and that they can just have a moment of peace and fun up here tonight.

It's a big anniversary after all, you don't turn 100 every day.

And it's a strange world they live in now and so much has changed that Steve is almost confused when Bucky takes his hand and pulls him away from the conversation with Wanda, Vision, Clint and Natasha.

"They'll be okay without us for a moment, don't you think?", Bucky murmurs in his ear as he pulls him away from the colorful lights and their private little Birthday Party towards a quieter edge of the roof.

Bucky sinks down rather unceremoniously and pulls Steve down beside him easily by slinging his arms around the blond's neck and laying his head on the other's shoulder with a content sigh.

In the distance the official, public fireworks are still going off and a smile spreads over Bucky's lips, Steve feeling it with the movement on his shoulders. "Told ya I'm right," and Steve turns with a frown but Bucky already adds with a chuckle: "All those fireworks for your big day, Captain America!"

It causes them both to burst out laughing until Steve turns his head to press a kiss to Bucky's forehead. He mumbles: "Oh shut up, Jerk!", without moving an inch, his lips moving against Bucky's skin until he is shoved away playfully only to feel Bucky's hands, flesh and metal, on either side of his face pulling him in for a sweet and loving kiss.

That lasts only until another row of explosions goes up right behind them and Tony comments it with a "Happy 100th, Capsicle!", and a raised glass of whatever drink that might be.

Steve only stares at him, still a little startled, and shakes his head in disbelief but at the moment he couldn't care less about that challenging smirk on the billionaire's lips. Instead, he just leans back in and kisses Bucky with much more demand than beforehand. It's a heated kiss and thanks to a certain super soldier serum they won't need to come up for air anytime soon.

When they do have to, their kisses turn soft once more, unwilling to break out of the wonderful moment they've wasted too much time imagining their whole life to waste a second of it now. Eventually, they just sink into each other's arms, breathing in the other's scent as if they never wanted to get up from that spot ever again.

Bucky presses his face in the crook of Steve's neck, plants a butterfly kiss there before he whispers: "Happy Birthday, Stevie", like he did every year.

Steve closes his eyes at the comforting touches of Bucky's hands on his back and the butterfly kisses moving their way up his throat agonizingly slow. He couldn't wish for anything more than this right now.

Okay, there might be another thing, a small black box waiting in the back of his drawer for him to find the courage to finally take it out again. Today is just the wrong day for that question, the date would be way too kitschy. No, but tomorrow, before the universe would decide to throw them in the next hell hole, tomorrow he'd ask.

Not today, today is too peaceful of a day to get even more motion into it.

'Tomorrow', he tells himself as his lips are once more captured by Bucky's and he swears he hears Tony cheering in the background. If it were anyone but Tony Stark, Steve would probably wonder how quickly that man got drunk but that's just Tony and of course, Pepper silencing him immediately. That's just their crazy, perfect family.