There is a slight chill in the air. Odd for Delacroix but welcomed. Christmas was a couple of weeks away and of course, Sam Wilson just had to put the lights up so the family could enjoy them. He is at the top of the roof, nailing down a string of light, cursing under his breath.
“I thought you were the star-spangled man with a plan?”
Sam rolled his eyes at his boyfriend. “That was Steve, asshole. Different Cap.” He loved the man but seriously testing his annoyance level.
Bucky Barnes smiled up at his boyfriend, sitting on the edge of the roof, knowing how much that phrase grated on Sam’s nerves. Ever since Walker used it on his press tour, Sam hated that song, how they ruined a classic. But now he sees a shiver run through his body. “Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you cold?”
“No.”
“Are you lying?”
“No.”
“Samuel…”
“James…”
A first name war has commenced.
“If I find out you’re lying to me, Samuel, I’ll put Alpine on all of your black clothes.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“I would!”
“You both sound like children.” Bucky looks down to see Sarah looking up at them.
“He’s lying,” pointing a finger at Sam.
“He’s being annoying,” Sam calls down. “I’m just trying to get your damm lights up.”
Sarah places her hands on her hips. “Samuel Thomas Wilson, don’t make me get up there.”
Bucky just starts to laugh. “Please do. I will pay big money to see that fight.”
Sam just glared at him. “I thought you loved me.”
“I do, sunshine, but she would be the only one besides me that could take you.” Bucky laughs harder, wobbling the ladder. He stops to steady himself, but the laugh from Sam makes him glare back. “I hate you.”
“You just admitted you loved me.”
“And now I’ve gone to the other side.” Bucky climbs down and walks into the house.
The sun is almost below the horizon, letting the night seep in. Sam comes down and admires his work. The house is outlined in white lights, looking like a Christmas card. Minus the snow. Sam shivers again and looks around. Bucky is no where to be seen. “Thank god,” he muttered. The last thing he wanted was mother hen Barnes to make a comeback.
Sam is cleaning up the ladder and hammer, when Bucky rounds the corner. He’s looking at the weather app to make sure this cold snap will leave when he sees Sam. “Hi sunshine.”
“So not mad at me anymore?”
“You knew it would never last.”
Sam grinned. “I did,” he replied as his body betrayed him, a shiver again running up his back.
“I knew it!” Bucky grabbed the ladder and hammer from Sam. “Let’s go.” He dropped the tools in the yard and took Sam’s hand to bring him into the house.
“Buck, please! I’m fine.”
“Fine,” Bucky scoffed. “You lied. You are cold.”
“Yes, I was a little cold but I’m fine.”
“Nope, not allowed.” Bucky pushed Sam down to the couch, took off his sweater and wrapped it around Sam before realizing that the left sleeve is missing. “Son of a…”
Sam looked to his left and laughed. “Kind of defeats the purpose don’t you think?”
“Oh, I’ll get you warm.” Bucky ran up the stairs to his shared bedroom. He grabbed all the warm clothes they had between them. Almost tripping down the stairs, he starts to pile on the clothes, wrapping Sam in a scarf.
“Bucky, I can’t breathe with all of this shit.”
“But you’re warm now.” Bucky looks triumphantly.
“Ok seriously, I’m sweating.” Sam starts to remove the layers, dropping them on the floor. He leaves one sweater on to appease the super soldier. But he could see Bucky was far away. He cupped his cheek. “Where did you go?”
After a few minutes, Bucky finally replies. “I don’t like cold.” It comes out childlike, a soft whisper, fear laced throughout.
It takes Sam a minute to register why he said it like that. And it hits him. Cryo freeze. “Bucky…”
“Its ok. I…” Bucky stands, not wanting to bring Sam down with his mood. “I need to get home for Alpine.” He grabs his jacket and heads out the door.
Sam drops on the couch and puts his head in his hands. Sarah comes out of the kitchen. “Where’s Bucky?”
“He left. I was an idiot.”
“What did you do?”
“He just wanted me to be warm. I didn’t get it.” Sam starts to pick up the clothes. “I have to fix it.”
“Well, you have 14 days to Christmas.” Sarah looked at a message on her phone. “I got to get the boys. Be back.”
And then the idea hits him. And he knows how to fix it.
**
Bucky stays home for a day. He just needed to reflect on the memories. The freeze, the cold, the pain of waking from it. He talked to Jayden, and they told him to remember to breathe. His reaction is valid but also remember that Sam is trying to understand.
“Your triggers are real, Bucky,” Jayden said. “But its how you handle it that will determine if you let it consume you.”
He takes deep breathes as the second day of solitude starts. Until the doorbell rings.
He heads to the door and there sit a package. He doesn’t see a delivery van or truck but curiosity wins out. He opens the box. And a letter sits on top.
One the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…
He pushes the tissue away and he sees little heater packets. The ones you can put in your pocket to keep your hands warm. He smiles at the odd gift but pulls out his phone and snaps a photo.
B: Did you do this?
S: No idea what you are talking about.
Bucky smiles and head back to Sarah’s. He knocks, awkward at how he left last time. Sam opens. “Hungry?”
“Always.” Bucky smiles and pecks his lips. A better day.
The next morning find a box on the end of the bed. Bucky sees that Sam is gone but that the temperature has dropped a little more. He shivers, grabs his hoodie, puts it on and opens the box.
On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…
And he sees below a pair of leather gloves. But not the ones he wears to work, but soft, knit ones. He puts them on and feels the softness. They are perfect.
And the days continue moving to Christmas. The third day brought him a mug with a packets of instant cocoa. The fourth was a knit cap with a ball of yarn on top. The fifth was a new pair of boots, the rich leather soft and supple. The sixth are bath salts with instructions for a nice warm bath.
Bucky keeps questioning Sam, who continues to deny he had anything to do with it. Bucky knows maybe he should be cautious but he loves the gifts. He spent the night with Sam but got up early to see what he got for the seventh day. But when he reached home, there was nothing.
“Huh.”
Bucky tried not to let the disappointment flood him until he sees Alpine with what looks like a note on her collar.
On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me… in the study….
Bucky raced into his study to see a roaring fire and marshmallows. He chuckled and put his hands near the fire. Warm.
The eighth day brought him fuzzy socks, the ninth a new henley shirt, this time in green. The tenth was a new scarf and the eleventh, Christmas Eve was a fluffy blanket.
Bucky woke up on Christmas morning with Sam wrapped around him, nice and warm. He kissed his head after hearing Cass and AJ get up for their presents from Santa.
“It’s too early Bucky,” he heard Sam say mumble from his chest.
“I know sunshine, but I wanted to be the first to wish you a happy Christmas.” Bucky hugs him tighter.
“Happy Christmas. Are we British now?”
“Only if you want.” Bucky stretch and his foot hit a box. He looked at Sam, who smiled. He reached over a and read the tag.
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me….
Bucky opened the box to see a sweater, dark blue with a white stripe across the chest. Soft and warm. He pulled it out to show Sam and saw a flash of red. He pulled out a second sweater and pinned to it was a note.
‘For Sam.’
Sam?
“So, I realized the cold is a trigger for you so I wanted to give you all the warm things I could. But I also wanted you to know that I won’t be cold either. Especially with you.”
Bucky’s expression softened. “You won’t be cold?”
“Never Buckbean.”
“Love you,” offering a sweet kiss.
“Love you too. Merry Christmas Bucky,” he said with emphasis.
“Merry Christmas Sam.”