Work Text:
It's dawn, the sun barely showing its face.
Around them everything is calm, almost unreal. The bag is one the floor, in it only few basic stuff that he might need.
"Guess I gotta go, now." He says calmly. Way too much, considering where he's about to go. "Take care while I'm away. And try not to get into any fight you cannot end. I won't be here to finish it for you"
"You know I will anyway."
"Yeah, 'cause you're a punk"
"Yes, maybe I am". Steve says, like he knows better.
Bucky is taken aback by this answer but smiles fondly anyway and nods before turning around. He takes his bag and heads for the door. Europe is waiting for him.
He's almost out the apartment when he hears soft feet on the floor and tiny arms around his waist. He stops, jaw tightening.
"Don't die." Steve's voice is barely a whisper. Bucky looks down, breathes in and out a couple times but beside that he says nothing. He cannot promise Steve that. And he doesn't want to lie.
They just stay that way for a couple of minutes, silence is all they can hear. "Steve, I need to-"
"Yes, I know" The blonde slowly lets go of his friend who tightens his grip on his bag and just moves forward, reaching the door. Only then he looks back at Steve. He still doesn't know what to say. Surely not 'goodbye'. So he just straightens, hand on his forehead in a military salute.
Steve does the same, a faint smile ghosting on his lips and his eyes only barely lucid.
Just a few moments later Bucky can no longer be seen, a closed door staring back at the blonde guy.
A sheet falls on the ground; Steve's recruiting paper. A big 1A written on it.
The blonde man sighs, still not quite believing that his best friend is going to war without him. That they won't fight side by side like they had done for so many years.
But maybe -just maybe- this won't last long.
And maybe -just maybe- they will meet again soon enough.