Chapter 24
Despite Sam's numerous "are you out of your fuckin' mind?" 's and threatening to get Steve some help he agrees to meet Steve. Just so happens Sam is in town for the next few days for a memorial service that happens to be the next day. It's not until Steve pries, finally just wanting everything out in the open, he finds out it's a service for Bucky. 2 years.
"It's actually a bit early," Sam says. "People must've forgot or something.."
"That's what you were in town for last time? That's why you left early?" Steve thinks out loud.
"Yeah maybe. That or his birthday..." It's all starting to make sense now. "Look I'll meet you tomorrow before the service...God knows why I'm agreeing to this..."
"Wh..what time?"
"Service is at 2," he hears Sam yawn. "How about 10?"
10am? It's not soon enough but he doesn't want to push it. "Yeah...yeah."
"Cafe again?"
"No! No I'll send you the address. I need to show you some things so you'll..." So you'll believe me. "I just don't want you to think I'm crazy."
"Too late for that..." Sam says with no humor to it. He's pissed, beyond so, but Steve needs him.
"You promise?" Steve asks ignoring Sam's remark.
"Hm?"
"You promise you'll be there?"
Sam sighs again. "Yeah, Steve. I'll be there. Get some rest."
He hears the click of the phone and Steve is left alone in the cold, night air. He checks the street signs to see where he is. He looks down at his shaking hands still holding his phone. He feels everything at once, both physically and mentally. He feels cold but hot, tired but wired. He feels devastation, grief, pain, but also just a small fraction of hope. This could work. This had to work.
He doesn't remember where he parked, he's too drunk to drive anyways, so he takes a very expensive taxi ride back to the Lakehouse, where it all began.
He arrives home he doesn't see the flag up, but it could've been down from the many times he slammed it down without even checking what was inside. The cab is waiting for him to safely make it home though so he makes his way up the walkway and inside instead of checking.
He thinks he can go to sleep, he's certainly tired enough and has been through more emotions that a normal person goes through in a year in one night but he can't. He tosses and turns until the sun peaks out from beyond the horizon.
He's tired still, his mind groggy and a little loopy, so he's not sure if he's imagining it when he hears a car door slam and sees Sam running up the walkway. His feet pounding on the wood in such anger it's enough to make chills run down Steve's spine. He checks his phone, he knows he shut his eyes for a second after the sun greeted him but he knows it wasn't anything more than that. It couldn't be 10 already.
His phone reads 7:20am. A little less than 3 hours early. Which could only mean that Sam didn't sleep either, or he's beyond pissed, or both. Steve jumps when he hears the pounding on the front door.
"Steve!" Bang, bang, bang. "Let me in! I know you're here." Bang, Bang, Bang. "This is some sick joking you're playing?" It's an accusation and a question. "Open the fucking door!"
No barking from Jack. Some watch dog. But then again he knows Sam, maybe he recognized his voice, his feet.
More banging and yelling. Steve makes his way to the door. He wishes more than ever he got more sleep so he could properly explain this all to the man on the other side who was more than rightfully angry. He undoes the locks and hears Sam's boots taking a step back.
"Sam..."
"This is fucked! Steve, you're fucked. You're living in his house!" He can hear Sam's angry voice start to choke up. "His fuckin' house!"
"It was actually...mine first" In a way it was.
"What?"
"It was mine first. I rented it after you left. Look I can explain it all. Everything. I just need you to-" Then he stops. He looks past Sam. Notices Sam's car door still open, key still in the ignition. He was rushing over here. Probably looked up the property when he woke up and realized where it was. Then he looks by the car to the mailbox. "Was the flag up when you got here?"
"What?"
"The flag on the mailbox? Was it up?"
"Yeah. Yeah it was up. I know because I almost hit the fucking thing getting over here-"
Steve moves past Sam.
"What're you-?"
It must've came early this morning. Or it was there when he was here last night and he never looked. Guilt over takes him. He's written so many awful words to Bucky, accusing him of things that were probably not even true, and judging by the way Sam is handling or not handling his death he's even more certain they weren't true. Bucky didn't leave Sam, at least not in the way Steve anticipated. He didn't leave Jack and he didn't leave Steve. But Steve sure as hell left him.
Steve runs over to the mailbox leaving Sam waiting by the door to the house in confusion. He grabs the letter and makes his way back up to the walkway and he tries to open it to read.
It's short. He's not used to that but then again how many of his letters has Steve ignored.
All it says is:
Read an earlier letter. I know what I have to do.
Love
Bucky.
Love. Still love despite everything. But Steve can't remember. Can't remember what was in one of his first letters that will make Bucky say that. But if he's saying that that means he kept the letters and if he kept the letters maybe they were still around. He did talk of keeping all of them somewhere when him and Steve still exchanged regularly.
"Did Bucky keep a box when he stayed here?" Steve asks Sam hurriedly.
"Jesus, Steve," He says quietly. "You've lost it. I mean you've really-" He stops. "Shit maybe I've lost it too if I came over here on some drunk dial telling me they can bring my friend back who's been dead for 2 years," he says even quieter, almost to himself.
"I haven't lost it. Neither have you." Steve says confidently. "The box, Sam. Filled with letters maybe? Something you weren't allowed to look at?"
"How'd you know?" Sam asks, making Steve's heart flutter. It's real. The box is real.
"Do you know where it is? Where I can find it?"
Sam shrugs. "I...I left it. After he died I was the one to pack all his stuff up." Sam looks around the house. "Including the shit he left here after he put it on the market." The market. Right before Steve rented it...
"Must've left it in the attic or something. Didn't think anyone would notice and I couldn't get rid of them."
"Wait? The attic?"
The box in the attic. The box in the attic that he never opened. The box in the attic he wrote to Bucky about. No wonder Bucky never found it because it was his all along.
Steve runs inside, dragging Sam behind him. He makes his way to the attic opening and climbs up. Sam waits by the attic stairs hallway between leaving and wanting to see how deep in his delusion Steve was. He can sense now the man he once called one of his best friends wasn't being cruel but he might be something else Sam had to deal with and he's not sure he had the energy.
"Sam?" Steve calls him and Sam looks up. He watches as Steve hands him a big brown box as he descends from the attic. Sam watches him as Steve jumps down and dusts off his pants. "Is this it?" Steve asks. "The box?"
Sam hesitates to answer looking around the brown square. "Uhh…" He lifts open the flap and sees the familiar writing: Property of B.Barnes. DONT OPEN (SAM!!). His emotions pull him in a chokehold and he finds it hard to breathe. He hasn't seen Bucky's writing (or heard his words) in so long just a small scribble is enough to bring him to his knees. "Yeah," He clears his throat. "Yeah it's..."
Steve doesn't let him finish he grabs the box and places it on the floor. He pulls open all 4 flaps ignoring Bucky's warning to Sam and starts digging through.
"What're you-," Sam starts, watching Steve on his hands and knees digging through the papers.
"Gotta find one of the early letters."
"Early letters to what?"
"He told me. One of the earlier letters," Steve says as more papers are being taken out.
"Hey, hey," Sam tries to stop him. "What're you doing? That's Bucky's," He grabs for Steve's hand. "That's-"
"Read it," Steve orders handing Sam the letter he just received. "I need to find the first ones."
"What is this?" Sam asks. "Steve, WHAT IS THIS?"
"Letter. From Bucky."
"When?!"
"Today...and 2 years ago."
"Is this a sick joke-"
"I'll explain. Everything. I promise just help find the letter."
"What?"
"It would've been early to mid February. Something I said in one of them."
"I..." Sam's fingers scan the letter Steve just gave him. Bucky's most recent letter. It's only a sentence. 20 words max. But it's Bucky's writing. He recognized the messy but neat writing. The way his Y's twist, something he's tried to copy since he met Bucky in 9th grade (but never could). He touches the letters. His writing is rushed, not gentle like he remembers. He must've been in a hurry, urgent. Of course logic comes back to him fighting the emotions he felt and he can't help but think did someone do the impossible? Did someone copy this?
"Steve this is sick," Sam starts.
"I know what it looks like, okay? I know just...trust me." Sam steps back as he watches Steve shuffle through the papers that belonged to his dead friend. He just lets him and he's not sure why.
"What day?" Steve asks looking in between a handful of letters, his face contorted in between something that was both fear and urgency.
"Huh?"
"What day did he die? What day?" He says almost shouting to Sam who still looks at him in a mixture between mad and confused.
"Friday! The 14th! What does it matter?"
"The 14th? Valentines Day?"
"Yes!" Sam yells back.
"Valentine's Day..." Steve repeats. And Steve remembers. He remembers that evening after work. The accident. The man he couldn't save. The one who's face his mind made him forget, the one his memories saved him from. It was him. It was Bucky. He can see it now. His dark, long hair. How he brushed it out of his face to get a better assessment of the damage. He couldn't see his eyes, they were closed but he recognizes, remembers the creases near his eyes, the markings of his face. He kept telling him it'd be okay as he felt his pulse fade.
Valentines Day was one of the first letters he wrote Bucky. That's how Bucky knows. He quickly digs for it and finds the letter he wrote that evening but he doesn't mention anything to Bucky. Doesn't mention what happened that night. But he did at one point. He knows he did. He recalls Bucky's most recent letter again.
An earlier letter not the first letters. Steve sits there he tries to think of when he wrote that to Bucky. He was referencing what happened the day because it was Valentines Day and he mentioned being a bitter single person that day and that the death of the stranger (that he now knows was anything but) was the cherry on top to an awful day. And he mentioned being bitterly single because...because... BECAUSE Bucky had mentioned Peggy BECAUSE BUCKY HAD JUST MET HER.
"The party!" Steve says out loud, forgetting briefly that Sam was still there.
Sam looks annoyed again. "What?"
"When did you move into your last apartment living here?" Steve asks. He can tell Sam is one step away from leaving but he also knows something is making him stay.
Sam names the semi familiar date and Steve concludes he would've had the party the weekend after and within another minute or so he finds the letter. The one Steve wrote after Bucky wrote about the party. And there it is. Steve mentions what happens on Valentines Day. Mentions the time of day mentions where even. That's what Bucky meant because that was the only time Steve revealed where he was exactly and when but if Bucky meets him there Bucky ...
"When did it happen?" Steve asks.
"When what? The party?"
"Bucky die?"
"Christ."
"When?"
"I don't know I got the call around 7. Fuck Steve what is this?"
7. Which would put the accident at the exact time Steve had looked at his watch to see if he could catch the next train.
"I was there," Steve say. "I was with him."
Sam's face softens but he still looks at Steve with confusion and apprehension. "What are you saying...?"
"I was with him when he died but I didn't know. I didn't know it was him."
"I..."
"I was the doctor who tried to save him but I couldn't I was too late. But I can do it now. I can save him now."
Sam looks at him carefully. "Is this some sort of guilt thing?" Sam asks. "No one blames you Steve. People die in doctor's hands all the time but this-"
"No this isn't some guilt thing! Look!" He shows Sam Bucky's letter again. "Bucky wrote this and sent it to me today!! But for him it's 2 years ago. Feburary 9th 2 years in the past."
Sam looks at him with wide eyes but Steve doesn't let him say anything. He buries his hands in the box and pulls out letter after letter all addressed to him. "Look!" he says to Sam. "He wrote me all of these." And look. Steve runs to where he's stashed Bucky's letters to him. "I wrote him back."
"How old are these?"
"This year and last!"
"This is a joke." Sam says. "This some sort of joke? It's not funny Steve."
"It's not a joke. Look at this," Steve holds up the letter detailing the party. "You know I don't remember that night so how would I have this? How would I make this up? Read it!" He tells Sam.
After Sam reads it Steve shows him the other "evidence" he has and he can see Sam start to believe him. Not because it was logical but because he wanted to, nothing in world he wanted more than to believe Steve and believe what this was.
"What do you need?" Sam asks.
"What did he do before? Do you remember?"
Sam shakes his head. "I remember calling him earlier that day. He was excited about something."
"What?"
"Steve...I don't like remembering."
"I know. I know you don't but I can-"
"Save him. Yeah yeah. I don't know he was excited about meeting someone. Said he was going there after they got off from work. Wouldn't tell me where and then the next call I got-" Sam clears his throat.
"He was.. excited?" So he wasn't there to be in the accident. He was there to meet Steve when he got off work. He didn't know he was the victim.
"Yeah. Said he knew what he had to do," Sam clears his throat. "You know after I got the other call I thought he had meant something else and I was pissed...at him. How fucked is that?"
"Sam..." He offers a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder but his friend brushes it off.
"It's like when someone has cancer or something that keeps coming back so in your head you think 'oh they might eventually die from that' but then they get fuckin hit by a car instead when they're in remission. Fuckin cruel. Not that he had cancer but you know." Sam breathes in "And all to save some kid that the kicker is would have been fine regardless if someone was there or not." He laughs bitterly. "Now my friend is dead and my other friend has lost it."
"I haven't lost-"
"Yeah," Sam says softly, tired now. "Yeah." He looks at Steve, looks at the letters, the pictures, the gifts Bucky gave Steve all spread about. "Can you really do this? You can save him?"
"Yes," Steve says. And he thinks about what Sam just said about the accident. He was there to save a kid. A kid that didn't actually need saving. If Bucky knew that, Steve could save him. It'd be impossible to convince Bucky to not save a child but if he knew the child would be fine no matter what..."I need a pen!" Steve yells. "And paper."
Sam gives Steve the pen as the blonde looks for a piece of paper he can use. "Do you remember when he last checked his mail?" Steve asks, urgently now.
"Uh...no...I..." Sam thinks, thinks hard. "He checked it every day for a while despite putting the place up for rent. It was like he was waiting for something but I don't know..."
No, no, no. Steve thinks. It's because Steve's ignored all his letters that Bucky is no longer camped outside his mailbox and why he may or may not get this very letter.
Steve quickly scribbles what he wants to say almost as if by getting it there quicker would ensure Bucky would get it at the correct time. This had to work. It had to be. They were meant to be.
Bucky
I know what you're about to do and I'm telling you don't. Don't go there the 14th! Don't go to that corner. I know what happens. I know everything and believe me when I tell you skip going there. Something bad happens. It's why you didn't show up at the restaurant and that's why I was mad because I thought you left me but you didn't but I'm begging you right now to please wait for me. Just wait. Just wait 2 years and come drive by the Lakehouse Feburary 9th 2014 and meet me here. I promise I'll be here. Please just don't go there on the 14th. Just stay inside. Stay inside and wait.
Then Steve thinks what if he does go outside and happens to walk by that corner despite this warning. Then Steve realizes he has to tell Bucky. He tells him what Sam told him. He warns him of the street corner in Steve's letter and tells him of the kid.
Please just. Please. I love you. I love you so much. I'm sorry. Please get this. Please please please.
Love you forever and ever.
Steve
Steve runs to the mailbox, he can hear Sam's footsteps not far behind him. He throws the letter in the box and waits...and waits.
Sam is closer to him now and he too waits and waits.
"Come on, Come on," Steve whispers to himself, knees in the grass by the mailbox now. "Come on, Bucky."
Moments pass then minutes. Steve hears Sam clear his throat above him. "Jesus..." Sam says. "It was convincing," Sam says loudly. "It was really convincing. Good job," He pats Steve's back in a not so friendly manner. "I'm getting my stuff."
"No wait! Sam!" Steve stands up to follow Sam to the house.
"I just...I just can't believe I let myself believe this!" Sam yells, turning back to Steve after trying to make his way back to the Lakehouse for his belongings.
"Sam! Hold on! Just wait! Just.."
But Sam has gone inside and just as Steve is about to follow he hears a car turn down his road and stops.
He hears the breaks squeak as it parks and hears the creak of the driver's door.