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The first thing John notices about Buck is how thin he is. Then he sees tiny scars all over his face: under his right eye, at the corner of his mouth. Still, he’s smiling at John, and it’s impossible not to smile back, and it hurts, John’s whole face hurts, and he’s nauseous and suspects he might have a concussion, but Buck’s there, so he just walks on. Buck’s there. He’s still afraid to believe that, hadn’t let himself have any hope, knew it would hurt even more when that last hope would crash, too.
They let him stay in the boys’ barrack, and Bucky is almost thankful. He hugs Buck so tight it hurts, but he doesn’t care. Buck’s hair still smells of mint, and it’s almost ridiculous at this point. John tells him that, and Buck shakes his head amusingly, as usual. He’s so unbearably himself, and yet something about him has changed, but Bucky can’t see it yet. His body hurts, and he doesn’t know how he’s still standing on his feet, but he and Bucky are together, and that is impossibly, impossibly true. So he is holding Buck in his arms and he can’t let go of him, not even he passes out in a minute.
Buck is so beautiful when he watches John’s face closely, his cool fingertips gently brushing against John’s forehead. "You did great, John," he tells him, "You made it. I’m so proud of you."
"I thought I’d never hear your voice again," John mutters against his shoulder. He’s probably staining Buck’s sheepskin with blood, but Buck doesn’t seem to care. "I'll be alright. Just keep talking to me, Buck."
Buck chuckles. ‘’You need to lie down," He says, and John agrees silently. Buck helps him to lie onto a lower bunk bed. John doesn’t know who the bunk belongs to, but after everything he’s been to these past few days it feels warm and nice.He puts his head on a pillow and closes his eyes. ‘" I’ll go find a medic," Buck says, and John’s heart flutters at the thought.
"No, please. Stay here."
"Bucky. You need to be taken care of."
"I’ll be fine, just stay here and talk to me. Please, Buck."
Buck sighs, and John can tell he’s probably tired. "Let me wipe the blood off your face, at least. Then you’ll sleep."
"Sure, darlin’." John mumbles. He opens one eye just to see if the nickname makes Buck soften. It does. "Will you be here when I wake up?"
"I promise you. Where else would I be?"
Buck brings a damp cloth against John’s forehead. It stings at first, and John hisses. "Shh," Buck whispers, his breath on John’s cheek. John opens his eyes with an effort, watches Buck’s face."‘m sure it would help more if you kissed me," he tries, and there’s that tiny dimple upon Buck’s mouth because he’s smiling now, and John’s stomach is warm. His plane crashed, some scared German men tried to shoot him, but somehow he still survived, and even though he is in the Stalag, he’ll live. Buck is with him. John made him smile again. He will probably get a kiss from Buck, too, if it goes well. What a life.
"Wouldn’t it," Buck says softly, and settles on the floor next to John’s bunk. He’ll probably freeze there, and John wants to tell him to sit next to him, but then Buck kisses him. It’s quick but gentle, and John wants more of it, immediately. "God, I missed you so much, Buck," he sighs into his mouth. Buck rubs his nose against John’s, like a cat. "Missed you so much more," he whispers, the sound of his voice making John’s stomach twitch, again. He wants to bring Buck closer, but he doesn’t let him.
"Sleep, John. I’ll be here."
"Tell me how you went down," John asks and closes his eyes. He can tell Buck’s hand tensing on his chest, but then he’s relaxed, again.
"That’s a great story, actually," Buck says. ‘"Can you believe I flew right through that family’s backdoor and ended up in their kitchen?"
"No," John says, amused. He is feeling fairly better, already. "That's a shame I wasn’t there to witness that."
"I’m so lucky you weren’t. The farmer had his pitchfork at my chest and all. The whole family was probably more scared than I was. Yeah, thought you would love it." He watches Bucky snort into his pillow. "We lost a lot of forts since Bremen, didn’t we?"
"Yeah," Bucky says. "It was never the same without you."
He lets himself drown in that moment’s comfort, even the pain seemingly gone away. Buck’s now warm fingers intertwined with his own. He wants to fall asleep like this, and then they will talk more, they will figure it all out.
"Told you," he mutters; his words already beginning to slur. "We’re getting through this, Buck, you and me."
"Don’t count on it," Buck echoes, but maybe – just this time, John thinks, before finally falling asleep – he doesn’t actually mean it.