Disclaimer- I do not own Captain America and all the characters.
The idea for this started from an idea I saw the idea that and might have been drafted, and this kind of spun out from that. It's probably going to be cheesy, so be warned. Enjoy!
He didn't want to go to war, the idea of constantly being shot at and always living in fear of being killed. So when he found the letter in his mail, he felt ice cold fear. Then the panic set in, he found himself going around to any where that could keep him stateside.
As the thought about it he realized it wasn't that he didn't want to go, as much as he couldn't. Who else would look after that stubborn punk? If he went off to Europe he'd probably come home to find him in the hospital, beaten to a pulp because he was to stupid to back off.
That was his reason, he couldn't go to war because he had to take care of Steve. Now all he had to do was convince the draft board, he thought bitterly as he tossed back his drink, which would be near impossible.
"What's the occasion?" A voice broke through his thoughts. He turned his head to see Steve, all 95 pounds of him.
"No occasion," Bucky slurred with a smile. "Why does there need to be an occasion?" He continued.
"You've had around 15 drinks," Steve replied with a sigh.
"Have I really?" Bucky asked the bartender. The bartender nodded shooting a nervous look towards Steve. "Then that's something to celebrate!" He smiled. "Another one, and one for Steve too."
"Come on Buck, I'm taking you home." Steve sighed grabbing Bucky's arm.
"Come on Steve, it's just a drink," Bucky pouted pulling his arm back.
"For me it would be just one drink, but not for you." Steve replied grabbing Bucky's arm again. "Come on." He added pulling at it slightly. Bucky sighed giving in, he couldn't really say no to Steve. Bucky paid for his drinks and stumbled off of his chair.
"What are we going to do tonight Steve?" He laughed as they moved out into the cold night air tossing his arm around Steve's shoulder.
"I told you, I'm taking you home." Steve replied stumbling slightly under Bucky's weight. "You are going to have one hell of a headache when you wake up in the morning."
"Come one Steve, the night is still young!" Bucky replied. "We could go dancing." He added brightly.
"Some other night," Steve replied navigating Bucky to the stairs up to his apartment. "But tonight, you are going to go home and sleep this off." He added.
"I'll hold you to that," Bucky replied. "Steve agrees to go dancing," He announced loudly. "I'll have to find us some girls." He added with a sly grin.
"Sure you will," Steve replied, hoping that Bucky would forget most of this by the morning. Steve helped Bucky up the steps to his apartment, unlocking the door and navigating Bucky in the direction of the couch.
"You want a beer?" Bucky offered after he fell into the couch. "I think I have some," He added thinking. "I'll check."
"How about I get it?" Steve replied rolling his eyes and moving into Bucky's kitchen, leaving Bucky singing to himself on the couch. He returned handing Bucky an open beer.
Bucky grinned and took a swig, "This is water!" He exclaimed staring down at the bottle.
"Really?" Steve replied with fake shock. Bucky looked at him with a smile.
"What would I do without you," He laughed.
"Probably be unconscious in the gutter," Steve replied with a grin. Bucky's smile faded as he thought of the letter on his kitchen room table. He wondered if that was where Steve would be once he was drafted.
"This war sucks," He commented moodily taking a swig of his beer water.
"Come on Buck, a lot of people are putting their life on the lines." Steve replied quietly taking a sip of his own water, in an ordinary glass.
"Sorry," Bucky commented remembering the letter that had reached Steve a few months ago. He quietly wondered if Steve would be able to learn to live without him if he, if he died. Another reason not to go to the draft.
"Mom and Dad died for doing what they thought was right," Steve replied proudly. "So it's why I'm going to try enlisting." He continued. Bucky nearly dropped his bottle.
"You got to be joking," He nearly yelled.
"Just because I'm small," Steve started.
"Small? Try stubborn!" Bucky cut him off. "The German's won't be coming at you with pocket knives, some of them won't even give you the chance to know they are there. They'll just pull the trigger!"
"You don't think I know that?" Steve replied standing up. "You don't think everyone who has enlisted knows that? I know the risks, I know that I might not come back. But I want to help to protect the people I care about. If that means picking up a gun then I will."
"How long have you been think about this?" Bucky breathed staring at his best friend. He knew Steve wanted to help, but he hoped he never had the idea to enlist. He should have seen it coming.
"Since I got the letter about Dad's death." Steve replied. Bucky stared at his friend, all 95 pounds. He sighed. "I was going to go to the enlistment office in the morning."
"Then I'm going with you," Bucky breathed. Steve looked at him shocked. "I'm not going to abandon my best friend," He grinned. "If I let you go alone you'll probably die of pneumonia." He added with a snort.
He had made up his mind, he would go to war. He would go down to the office with Steve and enlist, before his draft kicked in. He would go to war, but not to protect America or Democracy, he would go to protect Steve. That was all the motivation he needed.
The end! Just a little drabble that wandered in to my mind.
Hope you enjoyed!