Dedicated with all the love in the world to my family.

Steve,

Okay, I don't know what to say, other than: thank you a million times over.

I wish you'd stop looking like that every time I mention cryo. It's different now, you know that. I'll be safe there, until you get back and Princess Shuri figures out my brain. And you've made such a big deal about getting to make my own choices now, well, this IS mine. Just for a little while.

Just don't let anything happen to you, old pal. 'End of the line', means we go out together, you hear? No more of this stupid 'I thought you were dead' stuff, PLEASE.

I told the Princess that you'd say when to wake me up. (Is it weird to say she reminds me of Becca?) I trust you. I mean, you know that. Ugh, why am I tripping over this stupid letter?

I know their names: Rebecca, Anna, and Elizabeth. But here's something I'm pretty sure I actually REMEMBER: I always wanted a brother. And then… I didn't.

Over and over, you've reminded me that you're my friend. You're actually more than that. You are my brother.

'Greater love hath no man than this: that he lay down his life for his friends'

Wow. I can't remember my mother's face, but I can quote that verse. Probably because they put it on every soldier's grave. But that's you. 'Greater love'.

I still don't– Please, don't let this… I'm not trying to hurt you. For crying out loud, you need to stop assuming responsibility for every bad thing that's ever happened to me!

I still don't feel, well, worth everything you gave up. But I know you think I am. Maybe someday I'll be able to agree. Probably need your help with that.

Okay, I think my pen's running out of ink. When was the last time I wrote you a letter? During the war? This isn't exactly 70 years' worth of words or whatever. But hopefully we'll have time to do some real catching up, once I figure out who the heck I am. Other than your brother.

Better finish this before it gets too wet.

Thanks again, pal. For everything. Back with you to the end of the line.

Love,

Bucky

Steve released a long sigh, the way he always did after reading Buck's letter. The one he'd found in his bag, when they were already on their way to the Raft Prison. He hadn't let himself read it 'til that mission was finished. He just hadn't expected the fallout to take so long to resolve.

Though that had kind of worked out too. Here it was December 19 and call him a sentimental old man, but he liked the idea of getting his friend back in time for Christmas. It was all he could possibly want.

He glanced up, watching the man asleep on the bed; Shuri had said it could be up to an hour before he woke up.

Bucky had it right: she was a pretty amazing girl. A lot like Becca. With dashes of the twins in there. As smart as all three Barnes girls put together and then some. But Steve was still grateful to T'Challa for convincing her to leave them alone. Actually, he had probably ordered her.

Steve watched Bucky's chest rise and fall, steadily. He heard the echo of his friend's voice, "Breathe, Stevie. Just breathe." A soft chuckle escaped him. "I don't exactly have asthma anymore," he murmured aloud. "Don't have to worry about saving me like that again."

He folded the letter, slipped it into the chest pocket inside his jacket, and then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "It's almost Christmas, Buck," he went on. "Sam and Nat are here. Not sure where Wanda is, but… Well, actually she's probably spending the holidays with Vision, but don't repeat that." He smiled, thinking of his friends who had stuck with him so much.

"Sam's trying to see if he can get his hands on a turkey. You want to know what's really funny? We were talking recipes the other day and Sam was writing down his mom's secret dressing and I was remembering Mother's and–" His throat closed around the words and he had to swallow hard, before he could go on.

"They were the same."

Steve fell silent, breathing in time with his friend. He let himself remember those Christmases, with his mother laughing and the roast goose and the Christmas cake and the Barneses. The tough times in the early '30s. Then just him with the Barnes family, until the war came knocking. They had always had him make the turkey dressing, because he was the only one who knew his mom's recipe.

Their last Christmas together had been spent huddled in the attic of a French Resistance 'safehouse', swapping chocolate they'd saved from Red Cross packages, and Gabe teaching them Stille Nacht, and Falsworth recounting the old story from the Great War of the 'Christmas Armistice'...

Two months later, almost to the day, Bucky went down and then Steve went down, and the whole 'firsts' thing hadn't hit until he woke up in 2012. First Thanksgiving, first Christmas, first Bucky's birthday, first July 4th. After he discovered Buck was still alive, well, he hadn't noticed holidays much at all.

He put out his hand, hesitating for a minute before he laid it on Buck's. Warm, real. He curled his fingers around Bucky's wrist, feeling his pulse, his life.

There came a sudden sharp image of that hand just out of his reach, then slipping away… He gripped Buck's hand, warding off the memory. That was then. This was now.

Steve's breathing slowed again and his gaze returned to Bucky's face, waiting for those eyes to open.

"I'm here, Buck," he whispered. "Ain't getting rid of me that easy."

Buck could hear Steve, talking. Feel his friend's hand, gripping his. Warm, everything was warm.

And, dang it, he was thirsty.

He swallowed to wet his throat and cracked his eyes open.

"Steve." Those blue eyes, always so darn worried. Wait, was he crying? "What-?"

Steve leaned forward, desperately trying to hold back the wave of emotion crashing over him. "Yeah, Buck. Everything's okay."

"Was I... asleep? Oh." Bucky stiffened, remembering. "Cryo," he mumbled, closing his eyes. He squeezed Steve's hand once, before pulling away and rubbing his face.

Slowly he sat up, worry and fear seeping into his eyes. "So I didn't dream that? You're here and they must have figured out some way to fix me."

"It's real," Steve answered.

Bucky ran his hand through his hair, brushed his fingers across the stubble on his chin, briefly felt the stump of his left arm. He was here, in one piece. Mostly.

"Steve?" Dang it, why did his voice have to wobble suddenly?

"Yeah?" Steve didn't sound any more pulled together.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, causing Steve to slide his chair out of the way, before standing.

Steve stared down at the top of his friend's head for a moment, the long hair. He'd had almost six months to wrap his head around what Bucky would be like now. The damage that had been done. How different things would be.

Then Bucky looked up, his eyes shimmering with tears. And Steve couldn't help himself. He stooped down, felt, rather than saw, Bucky flinch, and wrapped his arms around his friend's shoulders. Felt Buck's hand tentatively land on his back.

Bucky pressed his face into Steve's shoulder, letting Steve pull him to his feet. He was dangerously close to losing it. But he had to ask, to know for sure for sure.

"So things– It's going… to be… okay?"

Steve made some sound that was probably supposed to be a laugh. "Yeah, Buck. You're going to be just fine."

Bucky's only reply was a tiny, hiccupy sob, a disgrace for a man his size. Steve's arms tightened around his shoulders. "It's okay, Buck," he said, huskily. "You're allowed to cry."

So he did.

Things had happened so quickly when they had first arrived in Wakanda, they'd had less than a week to figure out what they were doing. Both of them had broken down more than once in that time, but this was… different. No nightmares, no desperate 'how did this happen to me', no 'what if there's no way out'.

Steve could feel Buck's hand gripping the back of his shirt, feel him shaking, feel the tension draining from his body, even as he hung on to Steve even tighter. For this moment anyway, they could both believe it.

Bucky's tears finally slowed, and he realised he was desperate for water. Coughing seized him and he felt Steve start to pull back, not exactly what he wanted. But it was suddenly very difficult to breathe, with the cough tangled up with the sobs, and a sudden attack of the hiccups.

"Buck. Settle down," came Steve's voice.

Steve twisted far enough to grab a glass of water off the table, without letting go of his friend. "Drink," he ordered. Finally Buck let go of him to take the glass; he downed it in one breath.

With the cough quieted, Bucky slumped against Steve, still struggling to catch his breath. Steve took the glass away, and started rubbing his hands in circles on Bucky's back. "Just breathe, pal. Just breathe. Come on, it's okay."

He tilted his head so his ear was pressed over Steve's heart, listened to the steady rhythm. More tears. But he felt his breathing slow, deepening to match Steve's.

"So," he finally said. "What did I miss? How long has it even been?"

"Six months," was Steve's answer. He paused. "I'm sorry–"

"Don't," Bucky interrupted. "Don't you ever be sorry for anything again, ya punk."

Steve snorted. "Except for being friends with you, jerk."

Author's note:

I originally suggested that Bucky died before Christmas 1944, according to the death date given at the Smithsonian. Unfortunately, after watching The First Avenger over again a few times, I realized that I just couldn't make it work. And in the choice between something written on a museum display, and the obvious timeline of actual events in a movie, I'm going with the actual events.
But let's face it, Steve wouldn't have really celebrated Christmas since right before Buck fell, so this is still really poignant.

N.B. Hiccups in the MCU timeline drive me nuts (yeah, my friends tell me I have control issues T_T). But I work with it as much as possible, jumping on the blurry lines and redrawing them to fit my purpose. My brain tends to go in different directions from most people's, so if the timing of this story confuses you, I will just say that I peg the closing scene from Black Panther as happening much later. I also have to fit this in with When We Were Young and its sequel.
Originally a one shot, that possessed my imagination!

I hope you enjoy, and if you have any more questions I will be happy to answer them!