fate
In hindsight, going outside on a particularly cold day with nothing but a hoodie, paired with getting little to no sleep, would inevitably lead to Sam getting a cold. That’s why Sam is bundled in about 3 blankets, courtesy of Bucky, and why a mug filled to the rim with tea sits beside him on his bedside table, also courtesy of Bucky. “Buck, I’m fine, it’s just a cold.” Sam said, followed by a sneeze. Bucky made a face of yeah right and threw the tissue box at Sam. “Thanks.” Sam said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
Bucky snickered, and grabbed his jacket from the closet. Sam raised an eyebrow. “Where are you going?” Sam questioned, siting up a bit more to grab the tea. “Groceries.” Bucky answered casually, an innocent look on his face. Sam scoffed in offence.
“What happened to you mother henning me?”
“What? I thought you were fine, and it was just a cold.” Bucky replied, a smirk on his face. Sam rolled his eyes, throwing the tissue box at Bucky in annoyance. “Go get your goddamn plums, Barnes. And throw that back.” Sam added the lost part quietly, causing Bucky to laugh and toss the tissue box back to him. Sam grumbled something about being left alone and closed his eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Bucky walked back into the apartment about 20 minutes later to a sleeping Sam in the other room. The apartment wasn’t big by any means, so he moved as quietly not to wake Sam up. Him being an ex assassin, it always works pretty well.
Once he finished putting away all the groceries, he made his way over to his bedroom, and passed their Home is where the heart is sign. Pressed onto the wooden sign are two sticky notes. One reads: Your heart is in your body but ok. Bucky was very proud of that. Sam was not, as he had stuck on one that said: Buck why?
Bucky loves the sign. He chuckled softly to himself as he entered the apartment. He leaned against the door frame, a small smile on his face. Sam looked so peaceful when he slept, which made sense, but he looked so relaxed, like the world didn’t weigh on his shoulders. Even in their most carefree moment, Bucky had never seen Sam as calm as he is while he was sleeping. Sam’s eyes fluttered open, immediately landing on Bucky.
“Hello.” Bucky said softly. Sam rolled his eyes, a grin spreading over his lips. “You’re staring again.” Sam pointed out, his voice hoarse, and Bucky didn’t look away. “It’s not like you’re a bad thing to stare at.” Sam laughed loudly, shaking his head. “Yeah, alright.” Bucky grinned at him, small laughs escaping his lips. “You just gonna stand there?” Sam asked pointedly, sniffling a bit. “What’s the issue with it? You cold?”
“Yes.”
Bucky scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Sam, you have three blankets-”
“Because of you.” Sam interrupted in a pointed tone, even pointing a finger at Bucky to prove his point. Bucky laughed, tilting his head up. “True, true.” Bucky raised his hands up defensively, and grabbed his sweater from the corner of the room and threw it at Sam. “I’ll be in the kitchen making dinner if you want some.” Bucky said as he walked out the door, and Sam knew that was more of a warning than an invitation. Sam pulled the sweater over his head and he pushed all the blankets off of him.
“I knew you wouldn’t leave me to cook alone.”
“It was a safety concern more than anything.” Sam joked, followed by a cough. Bucky rolled his eyes a smile on his face all the while smiled at him as he scrolled through his phone sitting at the counter. “Where’s the food?” Sam questioned slowly, eyes scanning the room. “Oh, yeah, we’re not cooking. You’re sick, and I probably could if you’d-”
“You could not-”
“So, I just ordered us take out. You’re welcome.” Bucky said, setting his phone down on the counter. Sam rolled his eyes, an exasperated sigh coming from his lips. Bucky chuckled as he made his way over to the couch. “Fine. But we’re watching Friends-”
Sam was cut off by none other than the Friends theme playing from the TV, and Sam’s eyes drifted to a smirking Bucky Barnes. “You’re very predictable when sick, Sammy.” Bucky said matter-of-factly, and Sam shook his head, trudging over to the couch, a small pout on his face.
“You’re mean.” Sam muttered against Bucky’s neck, and he heard Bucky chuckle. “You aren’t too nice yourself.”
“Hey! I’m sick.”
“You ate my last plum!”
“That was in retaliation for you finishing off the mustard.” Sam countered matter-of-factly, thinking it would make a difference in this ridiculous argument. Bucky's head was leaned all the way back, laughing loudly and clearly. “You are ridiculous.” Bucky said between his laughter, and he felt Sam laughing against his neck. That led to Sam having a coughing fit; as he was still sick. That just made Bucky laugh louder, and Sam whacked him in the arm. Repeatedly.
“You are mean!” Sam cried between coughs. Bucky laughed louder, his stomach starting to hurt he was laughing so hard. Sam glared at him, finally starting to calm down.
“Would you like a Halls?” Bucky asked caringly, but Sam could tell there was some mockery in his tone. “Yes.” Sam answered stiffly, and Bucky snickered as he got up from the couch and went into the bathroom to search for their Halls.
He returned a few moments later, launching the package of candies at Sam. In return; Sam threw him a glare while catching the package. Bucky smirked, siring himself down beside his boyfriend with a huff. Sam rolled his eyes, opening the bag and popped two of the candies into his mouth. His face scrunched up in disgust, and Bucky couldn’t help but think it looked adorable.
“These are disgusting.”
“They’re not.”
“Why didn’t you grab the grapefruit one?” Sam asked with his arms crossed over his chest. Bucky scoffed and laid down, his head in Sam’s lap. “They don’t work as well.”
“At least they’re not absolute garbage in a wrapper.” Sam argued, his hands falling in Bucky’s long hair. Bucky sighed, a small smile on his face.
They sat in silence for a few minutes just like that, Sam running his fingers through Bucky’s hair, while Bucky stared at Sam. He had gained a staring problem courtesy of Hydra, and it had doubled around Sam. Because Bucky was a lovesick dumbass, and he couldn’t take his eyes off Sam. Bucky really loved Sam. All his life he thought that his last moments would be in battle, but now he could only think of them being with Sam.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Bucky had fallen asleep, but Sam couldn’t seem to fall asleep, no matter how long he lies there, he couldn’t fall asleep. Sam's eyes darted across the room, and eventually, his eyes landed on the desk that was sitting there collecting dust, except for the pile of journals that belonged to Bucky. Sam knew there was a journal full of letters to him, so he figured if there was nothing he could do, he might as well read some.
After flipping past a few blank pages, he found a letter dated May 26, 2016. 2 days after Sam had been put in the Raft, he remembered it clear as day. His eyes fell to the words written below.
Sam,
After being thrown back into the fight, I realized something. All my life I thought my only love was war, my fate was to end in a bloody battle, whether the war was inside or out. But, you are more beautiful than war, you are my fate, you are my only love. You’re more painful than war, and you’re more of a relief than peace. Your words heal the pain of war, but your shoulders carry that very same pain like it’s a part of you. Well, maybe it is. But I love you all the same, because maybe I fell out of love with war, but I could never fall out of love with you.
Yours, J.B
Sam was so mesmerized by what he had read that he barely registered a pair of arms wrapping around his torso. “Hi.” Bucky murmured into his ear. “Hey. Sorry if I woke you up.” Sam muttered. “Don’t worry, I’m a light sleeper, Sammy.” Bucky reminded him, a small smile on his lips, and his head resting on Sam’s shoulder. Sam smiled, closing the notebook he had open.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Bucky guessed, and Sam nodded with a sigh. Bucky hummed, a silence passing over them both. “I really love your writing, Buck.” Sam muttered, running a thumb over the notebook with his name written at the top in faded sharpie. “Well, it’s fun, it’s stress relieving. For both of us, evidently.” Bucky said, and Sam chuckled softly.
“C’mon, you should at least try to sleep.” Bucky urged, moving away from Sam for a moment, just to grab Sam’s hand. Sam sighed, but obliged, and let Bucky drag him back to bed. He let himself be wrapped in Bucky’s arms. He didn’t mind, they both always had a peaceful sleep like that. As Sam drifted off to sleep, all he could think about was how similar Bucky and his lives are. Sure, Bucky was brainwashed for 70 years, and prior to that; fought in World War 2. But all their lives, they fought in a war, inside and out. And Sam always thought the same thing Bucky had; that he would die in war, that his fate was always war. But that had proven to be incorrect, completely incorrect. His fate was peace, his fate was Bucky.