#that last line already bothers me but i will leave the pencil icon alone and be at peace 😌

[mylittleredgirl]

the number of times i will go back into a fic to add or remove one single word or maybe move it to somewhere else in the same sentence can’t be healthy. i’m tormented by a mildly popular text post of mine going around that i am sure could be funnier with one fewer syllable, which i also added and removed 3 times in the drafts before posting. it’s not compulsive, it’s genuinely not harming me or preventing me from sharing my work, it’s just like somewhere in the intersection between perfectionism and an inability to let go i’m there ten days after posting wondering if an exclamation point instead of a period would meaningfully alter a reader’s experience, like a philosopher spending six years contemplating the nature of existence through a single grain of sand and okay, i started this post to make fun of myself but i just remembered that my linguistics tag is “language is my one true love” and writing is more like gardening than a race. something can be done when it’s done because there’s a print deadline or a hard frost or you have to put down the shears and see about the rest of your life, but in all other cases it’s just endless potential for noodling around in the dirt until you don’t feel like it anymore. there has never in history been a home garden in growing season where everything is done. i like to pet tomato leaves and maybe clicking “edit” on an old fic when i reread it to change three words and then change them right back is like that. i’m posting this one with no more fuss because i’m going inside to make tea.

[hecamity]

paper ornaments

a/n: bkdk secret santa fic for @amajikies! happy holidays, friend! i used some elements from my current college au bc i don’t know how to break away from it hfjdks. nonetheless, i hope you enjoy! (word count: 4456)

read it on ao3 here.

summary: katsuki forgoes going home for winter break, planning to spend the holidays alone locked in his dorm room in peaceful solitude. izuku, his fellow residence hall neighbor though, won’t stand for it. college au.

“Are you really not going home for winter break?” Kirishima asked Katsuki for the thousandth time that evening, turning around to face him after managing to zip up his overstuffed suitcase.

Katsuki rolled his eyes, not bothering to look up at him, gaze focused on a panel from a weird, gory, but oddly addicting zombie manga he’d stolen from Kaminari’s shelf earlier that day. “I already told you I’m not going anywhere. Fuck off.”

“Your mom will be disappointed.”

“She sees me almost every weekend—she’ll live.”

Kaminari, who’d been sitting at his desk submitting some final assignments, reached over to shut his laptop and spun around to face Katsuki with an incredulous expression. “You’re willing to stay on campus for the next two weeks instead of going home?”

Katsuki turned a page with a snort. “Fuck yeah. I’ll finally get some rest without you assholes around.”

It wasn’t as if winter break was anything special to Katsuki, anyway.

The last three winter breaks, he’d gone home and he never did much. His days consisted of him lounging around his house until his mother chased him with a broomstick in order to get him to help clean or Kirishima and Kaminari blasted his phone with persistent text messages to spend the day out.

Christmas day itself was also nothing special; his mother usually made a light dinner for him and his father and then they’d have some store brought cake for dessert. Later on, his friends would come around in the late evening and pressure him into a night of karaoke.

This year he was a senior and as an art major, he was expected to create one final masterpiece for his Capstone the upcoming semester.

His inspiration though, had been running low lately, and he planned to use the next two weeks on the empty campus to focus on planning for his Capstone without any distractions.

Kirishima only sighed at his friend before giving him a toothy grin. The redhead grabbed at the handle of his suitcase and with loud bang, the suitcase stood in front of him. “I hope you’re not too lonely without us.”

This time Katsuki lowered the manga volume to give Kirishima a smirk. “Not likely. Now get the hell out of here before you miss your train.”

Kirishima picked up his jacket from his bed and started towards the door, towing his suitcase behind him. Kaminari followed suit, his duffle bag already over his shoulder.

“Remember, we’re only a twenty minute train ride away when you can’t take the agonizing silence of this soon to be cold, lonely dorm room—”

Kirishima was silenced by the third volume of Zombies in Tokyo hitting his head with a mighty thunk.

A few hours after his roommates left, Katsuki found himself lounging in his floor’s common room. His legs were hitched onto the coffee table in front of him and he was using one of the couch’s cushions as leverage, a sketchbook in front of him.

In the background, he could faintly hear the All Might anime re-run he’d turned on, half paying attention to the action on screen.

“DETROIT SMASH!!!!!” the muscular superhero cried as he extended a fist toward a sludge monster who roared in response.

Typically he avoided the area, as it was usually loud and swarmed with the people he shared his floor with, except for late nights when he couldn’t sleep and he could relax in the silence.

This was one of those rare moments in which Katsuki could find himself there without running into anyone or sharing control of the one television, most of the campus having already been abandoned by students going back home for the next two weeks.

“Is that All Might?!” an excited voice squeaked from the entrance to the common room.

The sudden noise caused him to flinch and lose control of the hand that had been sketching. Gritting his teeth in irritation, he narrowed his red eyes at the now uneven line on the page before him. With a loud sigh he shifted them to turn his glare towards the voice that had broken his concentration.

He was met with a familiar face: freckled rosy cheeks, shining emerald eyes, a beaming smile, and a head of messy, green curls.

Katsuki immediately recognized him; he’d occasionally seen him around the residence hall, flanked by a cinnamon haired girl and a bespectacled giant. They’d also shared a Japanese history seminar he’d been forced to take as a prerequisite the semester before; Katsuki remembered him sitting in the front of the class, one of the few students who participated frequently, often times going off on passionate ramblings he’d had trouble catching most of the time.

The boy walked in further into the room, hugging a composition notebook to his chest. It took a moment before his excited smile turned into one of embarrassment, his already flushed cheeks turning an even darker shade of red. “I interrupted you, I’m so sorry!”

Katsuki felt his glare drop slightly and his heart skip a beat at the sight his bashful little grin.

Adorable fuckhead. The thought slipped before he could stop it and it took everything in him not to blanch at himself because for fuck’s sake, he did not find anything or anyone adorable.

Especially not annoyingly overenthusiastic, broccoli-headed individuals who dared interrupt him while he worked.

Katsuki huffed and moved his eyes back down to his sketchbook, aggressively erasing at his mistake. “Apology not accepted, shithead.”

The green-haired boy’s smile did not leave his face though and Katsuki was surprised his unfriendliness hadn’t deterred him from approaching the couch.

“Can I join you?”

“I think the fuck not.”

He completely ignored Katsuki’s rejection, settling himself into the seat beside the blond, bringing his knees up to his chest. The notebook he’d been holding was tossed on the coffee table in front of them. “This is the sludge monster episode! Iconic.”

Katsuki stopped the sketching he had resumed to give him a blank look. “Are you some kind of nerd?”

“If you’re asking me that because of my enthusiasm for this incredibly amazing, legendary series, then yes I definitely am.”

Katsuki refrained from snorting at his response. “Don’t you have somewhere to be? Home like everyone else?”

“I’m staying on campus for winter break this year,” he answered back his green eyes shifting from the television to look at Katsuki curiously. “Why haven’t you left for winter break?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“You’re a grouchy one, aren’t you?” Katsuki could hear the teasing lilt in his voice.

“And you’re annoying as fuck, aren’t you?”

“Touché, Bakugou-san.” The curly-haired boy laughed lightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his smile.

Katsuki’s eyebrows rose into his hairline, his head whipping to give him a surprised look. “You know my name?”

“Of course,” the boy’s tone was matter-of-fact. “We were in the same history seminar last semester!”

Katsuki couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of guilt at not remembering his name.

Clearing his throat, Katsuki picked up his long forgotten charcoal pencil to resume his work. “Right.”

A silence fell between them, the only sound coming from the television. From the corner of his eye, Katsuki could see that the boy was watching the screen once more, the corner of his lips upturned in amusement.

Three episodes later, the strangely comfortable companionable silence that fell between them would sometimes be broken with an occasional comment about the episode playing.

Katsuki had almost been disappointed—almost—when the green-haired boy stood from his seat, stretching his arms upward. “I’m going to head to bed. Thanks for letting me watch All Might with you, Bakugou-san.”

“I never—”

“Goodnight! I’ll see you around!”

“No, you the fuck you won’t!” Katsuki growled loudly, listening to the sound of his laughter as he walked down the hall.

When he leaned back against the couch cushions, his scarlet eyes traveled to the coffee table and landed on the composition notebook that the green-haired boy had brought in with him.

Tossing his sketchbook to the side, Katsuki leaned forward and picked the notebook from the coffee table.

In neat handwriting, he finally saw his name.

Knock knock.

Katsuki furrowed his eyebrows, burrowing his head deeper into his pillows in attempts to block the insistent knocking.

Knock knock knock.

“What the fuck?” Katsuki lifted his head and turned towards his door.

“Bakugou-san?” The voice came from the other side, muffled by the door.

Throwing the sheets off of his body, Katsuki jumped out of bed and stomped towards the door, ripping it open. Giving the grinning boy on the other side his best sneer, Katsuki resisted the urge to throttle him.

“Why the hell are you knocking on my door at—” Katsuki paused to turn and look at the digital clock Kirishima kept on his desk. “7:30 in the morning on a day off?”

“Because, we’re getting breakfast together.”

“Like hell we are.” Katsuki grumbled, turning away from him and walking back towards his bed. “Don’t you have any other friends to go annoy?”

“You’re my friend!” he crowed in a voice that was entirely too happy for such an early hour. “And everyone else is off-campus.”

Katsuki raised an eyebrow and gave him an incredulous look. “Since when are we friends?”

“Since we bonded over All Might last night.” A sweet smile spread across his freckled face. “You can’t take it back.”

“Listen here shitty nerd,” Katsuki loudly began. “Just because I sort agreed with you on the genius that was the Impromptu Villains arc, doesn’t mean that we’re friends.”

The freckled boy only ignored his words, heading back towards the door. “I’ll be waiting in the common room.”

“Oi!” Katsuki yelled after him only to have the door shut.

“Little shithead.” The blond mumbled to himself, lifting himself off of his bed once more and dragging his feet towards his wardrobe to pick something to change into.

After pulling on a sweater and some jeans, Katsuki sleepily stuffed his wallet, keys, and phone into his pocket. He’d almost made it past his desk when he noticed the composition notebook he’d haphazardly tossed when he’d come back to his room the night before.

After a moment, he grabbed the notebook and made his way to the common room to see the little asshole that had decided to interrupt his slumber bouncing in his seat.

“You forgot this last night, Deku.” Katsuki practically shoved the notebook in his face.

“Deku?” The boy gave him a confused frown, lowering the notebook to his lap. Katsuki wordlessly pointed towards the front of the notebook in where his name was written on the front.

His green eyes lit up in understanding; he wasn’t the first person that had read his name as Deku. “It’s Izuku actually. Midoriya Izuku.” He laughed a little before his smile morphed into a small pout. “So that means you didn’t actually know my name.”

Katsuki let out a quick cough, bringing his hand up to scratch at his head. “Didn’t you say we’d be going out to breakfast? Hurry the fuck up—if I don’t get something in my stomach, I might have to destroy you.”

Izuku stood from his seat and led this way, all while mumbling, “I can’t believe you didn’t know my name. We shared a class.”

“Can it, Deku.”

“So, you’re an art major?” Izuku’s mouth formed an ‘O’ and his eyebrows rose to his hairline in surprise.

“The fuck’s that look for?” Katsuki asked him around a mouthful of fluffy pancakes, pointing his fork at Izuku.

Izuku’s lips morphed into an impish smile, his shoulders rising into an exaggerated shrug. “You just don’t look very artsy. But now that I’m thinking about it, it kind of suits you—you’ve kind of got a brooding artist aesthetic going on.”

At his words, Katsuki’s scarlet eyes narrowed into a glare. “You’re goddamned lucky these pancakes are good or I’d of thrown my fork at your ugly mug.”

“Brooding and violent artist, I’m sorry.”

“You’re making it really fuckin’ easy to come to a decision to never speak to you again.”

Izuku giggled, bringing his mug of tea to his lips, shifting his already empty plate to the side. “Okay, okay, I’ll let you eat your pancakes now.”

Katsuki watched as Izuku slid the notebook he’d returned to him earlier closer to him, the green-haired boy opening the cover and flipping through the pages, almost as if he wanted to make sure its contents remained the same.

“What’s in that crap anyway?”

Izuku shut the cover of the notebook and looked up with almost startled eyes. “You didn’t look in it?”

Katsuki had admittedly been tempted to peek inside but had decided against it. As fucking awesome as his art was, he knew he wouldn’t be pleased had someone chosen to look into his sketchbook without his consent.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I had, shitty nerd.” 

Izuku pursed his lips, his gaze lowering to the table. His freckled cheeks flushed with color and he began playing with his fingers. “I-it’s uh, they’re poems. Poems that I write,”

“I’m a creative writing and literature double major.” Izuku continued, leaning his chin into his hand. “I kind of carry the notebook around with me everywhere in case inspiration hits.” 

Katsuki hummed before giving him a smirk. “I thought you might have been a history major.”

“Oh?”

“You’re the only idiot I’ve ever seen get so passionate in a history lecture.” 

At his words Izuku’s face turned bright red, an embarrassed smile. “It was an interesting class.”

Katsuki snorted and shook his head in disagreement. “It was awful. I spent most of it sleeping in the back.”

Izuku tsked him teasingly, his eyes shining with mirth. “Not a very good student.”

“Fuck you, I’m an amazing student.”

Izuku chortled at his response. After a moment, he directed a soft smile at Katsuki, his eyes earnest. “Thanks for having breakfast with me, Bakugou-san.”

Katsuki felt his chest constrict slightly, the tips of his ears growing hot. Biting his lip and averting his gaze, the blond let out an awkward cough. “Whatever, stupid Deku.” 

Katsuki hated to admit that the company wasn’t so bad. He could tolerate the nerd—even if he was weirdly passionate about a fictional superhero and forced him out of bed too early.

Ever since they’d had breakfast, Katsuki had seen Izuku nearly every day for the past week and a half.

Like clockwork, the green-haired, literature major would knock on his dorm room door at 8:30 in the morning—he’d explained to Katsuki that he was being nice and letting him sleep in an hour—in order to have breakfast again.

They’d then part ways, reuniting in the common room every evening, watching All Might re-runs until late into the night. 

Some afternoons, Katsuki would run into him at the local café, where he spent his time sketching or messing around on his laptop and they’d sit in companionable silence.

Other times, the companionable silence would turn into playful banter or long conversations about school, their friends, themselves.

Katsuki learned that Izuku’s favorite color was green, that when he was younger he’d dreamed of being a fireman, his favorite food was katsudon, and that he was incredibly close to his mother.

He was originally from Matsushima, a good ways away from Tokyo and the move from home had been hard on him, though he’d grown accustomed to the many changes that came with living away from home.

Izuku had also eagerly shared that Christmas was one of his favorite times of the year; every year, he and his mother would go out to pick a tree and decorate it together. They’d spend the afternoons baking and settle into their kotatsu for a night of television, nursing mugs of hot cocoa.

This would be Izuku’s first holiday season without her.

When Katsuki noticed the forlorn expression his face, he’d asked him why he’d chosen to stay on campus instead of going home and spending time with his mother.

“It’s a short break and I thought it’d be more economical to stay on campus this year.” Izuku explained, shrugging all while smiling sadly. “I’ll definitely go home our next break, though.”

Today though, had been the first morning that they hadn’t had breakfast together since the first time Izuku had knocked on Katsuki’s dorm room over a week ago. 

Katsuki, like clockwork, had risen early and had been waiting for the familiar knock on his dorm room door—a knock-knock-tap-knock that signaled Izuku’s arrival.

With a huff, Katsuki had picked his backpack off the floor, shoved in his laptop, and had grumpily trudged out of his residence hall and into freshly fallen snow, making his way to the café earlier than usual. 

He was definitely not disappointed because he wouldn’t be seeing him. He’d just really been looking forward to his pancakes.

“Excuse me,” Katsuki brought his gaze up from his laptop to look at one of the two baristas working that day standing in front of him. “It seems the snow outside will get worse soon so we’ll be closing the café early for the day.”

With one final bow, the barista walked back to the counter. 

Katsuki turned to look outside the café’s window to a flurry of snow falling rapidly. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, standing from his seat. He quickly shoved his belongings into his backpack and zipped up his jacket, ready to face the high windows outside.

He’d almost made it to campus when he heard a familiar voice call out behind him.

“Kacchan!”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Katsuki whirled around to see a bundled up Izuku grinning at him excitedly. His green curls were tucked into a woolly hat, a puffy yellow jacket zipped up to his chin, and green mittens protecting his hands. The tip of his button nose and his freckled cheeks were pink, nipped at by the frosty winds.

Cute motherfucker.

“Who the fuck are you calling Kacchan, nerd?” he ignored Izuku’s previous question, curling his upper lip into a snarl. 

“You,” Izuku continued, smile widening and emerald eyes twinkling in merriment. “You have a nickname for me, it’s only fair I have one for you.”

“You couldn’t have picked something less cute?”

“But Kacchan, you are cute.” Izuku giggled.

Katsuki froze for a moment, his stomach swooping at Izuku’s words. Blinking rapidly, the blond shook off his momentary shock, and growled. “I’ll fucking kill you, Deku.”

As Katsuki approached him threateningly, Izuku yelped. “Wait! If you’re going to kill me, let me set these down first.”

Katsuki hadn’t noticed that Izuku had two plastic bags wrapped around his wrists and carried a huge paper bag in one of his hands, the name of a nearby department store on the front.

Izuku waddled to a snow-covered bench and set his bags down carefully. Turning back towards Katsuki he shut his eyes tightly and opened his arms widely, as if he were ready to accept whatever came his way. “Okay. I’m ready. Do with me what you will.”

The corner of Katsuki’s lips pulled into a smirk of amusement. Bending down, he bunched up a wad of snow into his hands, ignoring the painful burn of cold against his skin. With wide steps, Katsuki walked towards Izuku, the snow crunching under his boots.

Izuku squirmed in place, seemingly in anticipation.

Without warning, Katsuki tossed the ball of snow in his hand at the green-haired boy, hitting him close to his face.

Izuku let out a loud gasp, his eyes popping open to face a now grinning Katsuki.

“That wasn’t very nice, Kacchan!” Izuku cried out, his mouth still gaping open. “That was cold!”

“Yeah, well I ain’t very nice, Deku.” Katsuki gave him a taunting smile. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

A smile grew on Izuku’s face as he leapt towards the ground and picked up a bunch of snow haphazardly flinging the bunch at Katsuki.

“You little shit!”

Izuku let out something between a strangled yelp and hysterical laughter, attempting to dodge Katsuki when the taller boy lurched towards him.

Katsuki felt himself smile at the sound of another yelp when his second snowball hit the green-haired boy in the face, this time not missing his target.

“I’ll get you, Kacchan!”

Stepping to the side in order to avoid one of Izuku’s snowballs, Katsuki, for the first time in a while, allowed himself to enjoy the moment.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Katsuki let out a long sigh, resisting the urge to throw his sketchbook across his dorm room.

Ripping out the page he’d been sketching on, he balled it up and threw it in the bin underneath his desk.

After he’d gotten back from his impromptu snowball fight with Izuku, Katsuki had said goodbye to him and locked himself in his room in hopes of making progress with ideas on his Capstone project.

Although he’d worked diligently for a few hours, he hadn’t had much luck.

“Fuck it,” Katsuki muttered to himself, taking a quick peek at Kirishima’s digital clock.

12:23 AM

He slammed his sketchbook shut, tossing the pencil he’d been using back into the pencil case Kirishima had given him for his birthday the year before.

Lifting his tired body from his desk chair, the blond staggered over to his bed, dropping on it with a groan. Closing his eyes, Katsuki pressed his face deeper into his pillow; his consciousness ebbing away as sleep took over.

Crash, crash.

Katsuki’s scarlet eyes popped open, immediately awoken by the loud noise that despite being muffled had been enough to interrupt his slumber

“Oh, no!” A voice moaned from the common room, which was across from the hall from Katsuki’s dorm room.

With a sigh, Katsuki jumped from bed and stumbled his way to his door, opening it. His bare feet slapped against the cold linoleum floor as he made his way to the common room.

When he peered inside, he saw a familiar head of green-curls bent over what seemed to be broken Christmas tree ornaments, his fingers picking at multi-colored shards of glass.

On the common room coffee table was a bare, mini-sized Christmas tree.

“Oi, be careful, you idiot.” Katsuki barked at him, causing Izuku to jump slightly at his sudden voice.

Rushing forward, Katsuki knelt down beside him, and with a gentleness that was uncharacteristic of him, moved Izuku’s hands away. He cautiously began reaching for some shards himself, placing them into the plastic bag Izuku had been using. “What is all this shit?”

“I wanted to surprise you with a decorated tree in the morning,” Izuku frowned disappointedly at him, blowing out a frustrated breath. “But I tripped and everything shattered.”

Katsuki felt his heart lurch at the sight of his dispirited expression, his stomach churning uncomfortably.

“I can clean up the rest, Kacchan,” Izuku gave him a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sorry if I woke you with all the noise.

Katsuki watched him for a moment, concern in his eyes. “Oi, it’s fine, I can clean up the rest.” Letting out a small cough, Katsuki continued picking up shards. “Knowing your clumsy ass, I’d have to take you to the ER to get stitches if I let you near this mess any longer.”

Izuku let out a small laugh. “Thank you, Kacchan.”

“Yeah, s’whatever.” he muttered in response, lowering his gaze and concentrating on not cutting himself with the remaining shards.

As he tucked the last of the shards into the plastic bag, Katsuki hoisted himself upwards and looked towards Izuku again, his expression still downcast. 

Biting his lip, Katsuki rolled his eyes toward the ceiling before opening his mouth to speak. “Oi.”

“Hmm?” Izuku’s eyes snapped up to meet Katsuki’s, the blond’s voice seemingly bringing him back from his thoughts. 

“Get that stupid look off your face,” Katsuki reached down to grab his wrist softly, pulling Izuku to his feet. “Let’s go.”

Izuku followed behind him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Where are we going?”

“We’re gonna go make some fucking ornaments.” Katsuki answered his question, opening the door to his room, waiting for Izuku to enter.

Instead of going in, Izuku continued to stare at him with uncertainty. “Make ornaments?”

“Yeah,” The blond art major answered simply. “Do you have some yarn?”

For the first time since he’d walked into the common room that night, Izuku smiled that smile that could light up a room—the smile that made Katsuki’s insides flutter.

“Knitting just happens to be one of my favorite pastimes.” 

“Fucking nerd.” Katsuki snorted.

“Last one,” Izuku yawned into his hand looping a red string of yarn through the hole he’d punched on the paper ornament, clumsily typing a knot. He reached over and gently placed the ornament on the now fully decorated tree. “There.”

Izuku got to his feet and slightly stepped away to admire his and Katsuki’s hard work, the duo working into the morning, the sun now shining through the common room blinds.

They’d suffered through heavy eyelids, several paper cuts, and odd marker stains on their skin.

Coming up behind him, Katsuki nudged him gently, a small smirk on his face. “It looks pretty good, doesn’t it?”

“Only because of your artistic talents,” Izuku gave him a shy grin. “Thanks, again, Kacchan.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes playful, the corner of his lips lifting into a more sincere smile. “Anything to have gotten that mopey look off your idiotic face.”

It was now Izuku’s turn to smirk, the green-haired boy giving Katsuki a teasing little look. “Oh? So he does care.”

“Don’t make me regret being nice to you.” Katsuki scowled at him, turning away and heading towards the couch.

With an exhausted groan, the blond slouched onto the cushions and closed his eyes, leaning his head back comfortably.

He felt the seat next to him dip with added weight and a searing yet comforting warmth at his side, Izuku having come to sit beside him. A moment later, he felt a pressure on his shoulder, hair tickling his chin.

“Oi, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Sleeping.”

“Not on me, shithead.”

“Kacchan,” Izuku whined sleepily, sit still. “I’m sleepy.”

Ignoring the heat that rushed to his cheeks, Katsuki leaned back comfortably once more, allowing himself to relax.

“Kacchan?”

“What?”

“Merry Christmas.”

Katsuki let out a small laugh through his nose. “Merry Christmas, Deku.”

[i-dont-have-gas-im-in-love]

Promise Me. (Pt. Two)

PART ONE

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The raid of a Hydra base wasn’t successful for the 107th hoped and Bucky is among those taken prisoner. Meanwhile, Captain America stops by.

Word Count: 2,069

Warnings: Talk about war wounds, briefly talking about Bucky’s torture while captured by Hydra

The 107th had headed to take the Hydra base three days ago. Less than half of them had returned and Bucky wasn’t among them. Losing soldiers was the dark side to war and you were rather familiar with it. But this loss was darker than usual.

You were still expected to take care of the solders that did returned. And they had returned in a mess; physically and mentally. With a large group needing attention, all the tents were opened to one large room. As you accompanied the doctor from soldier to soldier you searched for Sergeant Barnes. He had been reported MIA since the group got back but the lump in the back of your throat didn’t let you give up hope. However none of these young men had those bright blue eyes. No one had that soft chestnut hair that laid perfectly unkempt. James Buchanan Barnes was not here.

It was irrational for you to be so invested in someone you had only met. In your training they had specifically talked about keeping somewhat of a distance; people were going to be lost. And up until when he walked into your tent, you had been able to maintain that distance. But Bucky had been different. He pulled you in without even trying or you realizing. The intensity in which he listened and the care in which he responded. You thought you might feel better if you knew for sure his condition. But when you thought of the possible outcomes, it didn't bring any comfort.

"He's here!" A fellow nurse cried popping her head in the tent.

"Who?" You asked more hopeful than you intended.

"Captain America!" She told rushing out to see him. You had heard of the little shows he had put on back in the states; punching Hitler in every town. That may have been cleaver to sell war bonds, but this was the real war and a fool in a flag wasn't going to be any help. Begrudgingly, you made your way out to the commotion.

A stage had been constructed and you could see all the remaining soldiers had gathered for the show; which started with dancing girls. The soldiers roared as soon as they stepped on stage. You rolled your eyes. They left the stage with a great deal of hollering which came to a silent halt when the star spangled icon replaced them. However this is when all the nurses perked up. Even you found yourself being more alert.

Captain America as they called him, stood over six feet tall with generously broad shoulders. His 'uniform' clung to his well defined muscles. He was wearing a soft mask but he had deep blue eyes; or were they were green? You could sense he believed the message he shared but did appreciate the method being used to get it across. The soldiers started to give him a hard time. At first he tried to continue but after being mooned and then after they started to throw things at him, he left the stage and the girls returned much to the soldiers pleasure.

"Let's go see if we can meet him!" One of the nurses squealed.

They agreed and tried to drag you along but you insisted on staying behind. Shortly after they scurried away, you noticed him walking by wearing a brown leather jacket and carrying a leather bound notebook and a pencil. It had started to rain so he took cover across the way and started to draw; you couldn't tell what though.

There was a soft focus to him that you thought was almost familiar. The particular way his blonde hair was combed to the side, you could have sworn you'd seen it before. You were just about to approach him when that fiery brunette (who you found out was Peggy Carter) from your first day came around the corner.  It seemed like they knew each other already.

A soldier being brought in for care broke your attention. He was missing a bit of his arm and they told you he had been unconscious for several minutes. The doctor rushed to get started and you were right there for assistance. Then you heard ‘Captain America’ say “The 107th?” with urgency in his voice. He left Peggy and rushed to the tent next to yours were Colonel Phillips who was writing death notifications for all the men who hadn’t returned. You leaned as far as you could to hear the conversation but there was too much commotion in front of you that you needed to focus on. But then, crystal clear, you heard him utter a name, “James Barnes”. Without realizing it you turned a full 180 degrees away from the patient and stared at the tent wall that separated you from the man who had just asked about Bucky.

“Nurse (y/n)!” the doctor cried.

Immediately you returned. It took all you had to let ‘Captain America’ leave without rushing to him and asking him how he knew Bucky but this man needed your help and that’s why you were there.

Later in the afternoon, you quietly entered Colonel Phillips tent; he was still writing letters. “What do you want? I’m busy.” he meant to bark but his tone was defeated.

“I’m sorry to bother you sir. I was just wondering if you knew how ‘Captain America’ knew Sgt. Barnes?” you tried to keep your voice from trembling but weren’t having great success.

“Who? Oh Steve Rogers?” your eyes widened and your mouth fell open, “I don’t know how the kid knows him and I don’t care. Leave me alone!”

You didn’t stay to get any more answers. Could it be true? Could that really be the Steve Bucky told you about? Was that why it seemed like you knew him? That would explain why he was concerned about Bucky. Your heart was palpitating so fast you were worried it might explode. Steve and Peggy had left hours ago and there was nothing to do now but wait and see what they did.

That night was the most sleepless night you ever had. Peggy had returned but Steve had not. Apparently they, Peggy and the pilot Howard Stark, last saw him as he jumped out of the plane into the enemy territory while under fire. The feeling of the base was that he was just as lost as the soldered he went to save.

When the first rays of morning finally broke through, you got out of your bunch and put on your last white uniform. It never made much sense to you for your nurses uniforms to be white when there was so much they came in contact with that would stain and ruin them. But none the less, you pulled your hair into a bun and pinned your hat over it to keep it in place. Shortly after you had finished getting ready you heard a commotion outside. You peaked out of your tent and realized what had caused it.

In a marvelous movement were the lost soldiers of the 107th marching back to camp with Captain America in the lead and Bucky on his left. They marched with their heads high and their chests out. Never had you been so impressed by a group of soldiers. Your eyes welled with tears as everyone in the camp rushed to great them.

Steve gave Peggy back a radio that had been shot through and then offered himself up for disciplinary action to Colonel Phillips; who denied it. Then with a loud voice Bucky encouraged everyone to “Give it up for Captain America!” the crowd cheered and Steve looked back at Bucky who smiled and tilted his head to the side. However as soon as Steve looked away, Bucky’s face fell. You could tell that he was in pain and that it wasn’t all physical. Unable to stay back any more, you pushed through the crowd to get to the middle where Bucky was.

Before you had pushed past the last person Bucky had turned your direction. His eyes were exhausted and shirt had been torn at the top of his left sleeve. When he saw you, he took the gun off that was hanging across his chest and dropped it gently to the ground. He embraced you, almost from underneath, swooping you into his arms. You held him as tight as you could and he buried his face into your shoulder. No one noticed your embrace do to all the other commotion so you got hold him for quite a while before he pulled away.

“You’re alive.” you said wiping away tears from your eyes.

“Of course I am.” he smiled but it wasn’t the same.

“Are you okay?” you lifted your hands and gently touched a cut under his left eye that had already started to heal. His eyes fell closed as you felt his face and shoulders checking for other surface wounds.

He took your hand off his shoulders and held them gently, “I’m fine. I just have a bit of a headache.”

“Let me get you something for that.” you gave a final pulse to his hand and you rushed to one of the infirmary tents. When you returned with some aspirin, Bucky had just left Steve. Bucky mustered a smile as you handed him the pills, which he threw back dry. “I’m so glad you’re safe.” you said softly, “I just never imagined your boyfriend would have saved you.” he let out a single ‘ha’, “He looks differently than how you described him...”

Bucky looked over his shoulder at Steve, “He looks differently than how I left him.” the two of you shared a light moment. His eyes seemed brighter and his smile more sincere the longer the two of you shared a look. That feeling from the night you spent together before he left had returned and you were being pulled together. Bucky softly put his finger under your chin to tilt your face to his but you pulled away. He looked more hurt than confused.

“Maybe we shouldn’t...” you said in a breath darting a look over to his old friend.

Bucky followed your line of sight. ”Him being here doesn’t change anything; at least not for me.”

“Are you sure he feels the same way?” your own nervousness took you off guard.

“You must not have noticed that he’s occupied himself.”  Bucky raised his eyebrows and you took a moment to see that Steve was very enthralled with Ms. Carter. “I think he and I are in agreement on this.”

His words put you at ease but the moment had past. Bucky blinked several times, once for a long time. “Are you okay?”

“Oh it’s just this headache.” he insisted.

“Why don’t you come lie down?” you suggested. He nodded and you led him to your tent. “You won’t be bothered here.”

“Is this your tent?” his tone peaked and his smile curved smugly. You only responded with a smug smile of your own.

“Get some rest. I’ll stop by in a bit.” He didn’t persist any further and you went back to the chaos. The returned soldiers would need a looking over but the rest of them seemed to be of the best of health; good spirits even. It was a refreshing sight but it made you concerned for Bucky. “Excuse me,” you interrupted Steve talking with a soldier with a handlebar mustache and wearing a bowlers cap, “I’m sorry to interrupt but if I could ask you some questions about Sergeant Barnes...”

Steve immediately dismissed the conversation. “Is he alright?”

“He’s lying down with a headache now. But it doesn’t seem as if the other soldiers are bothered in the least. Did you find him separate from the others?”

“Yes,” his voice dropped a bit, “He was strapped to a table, there was a work bench... I’m not sure what they did to him. But he was in quite a daze when I found him; he was muttering something...” Steve’s voice broke a bit. You too took a short breath.

“Thank you Steve.” you said softly as you turned to leave.

“Have we met?” he called out.

“Not officially, but Bucky has told me much about you.” Your toned warmed and Steve’s cheeks pinked.

“Has he...”

“He has. Nothing but good things I assure you.” you left him with a smile.