December 1st – A Warm Light in the Coldness

It wasn't until a few months after the war had officially ended that things went downhill for Steve.

At first, it was only his health, but that was nothing new. He has always been sick when the weather became colder and rainier. But being sick so often, he couldn't get to work and as a result, finally lost his job. Losing his job but also had meant that he couldn't afford his small apartment anymore. It wouldn't have been a problem, if Bucky would have been here. He surely would overwork himself just to make sure that Steve would survive the cold season, much to Steve's dismay.

But Bucky wasn't here anymore. His best guy never came back from the war, fell to his death in the Swiss Alps. Steve had only made it this far because Bucky's remaining family was so kind to take him in, despite Steve's loud protests. He didn't want impose himself on them, since they were still grieving over Bucky. But Rebecca and her mother insisted on it, just because that's what Bucky would have wanted.

So he had moved in with them, but started looking for an opportunity to make some money to support them a little bit. It wasn't easy, but finally he started selling matches in the most notorious corners of Brooklyn.

Just like today.

Today was the first day of December. The streets were snowed in, already decorated for the upcoming holiday season, and an icy wind whirled the white substance in every gap. Steve coughed roughly, his throat not getting better ever since it started hurting earlier that week. It didn't help that the wind managed to get into his thin clothing, leaving him shiver mercilessly.

On top, the streets were almost empty, since most people had the common sense to stay at home. Only he, only he was too stubborn to do that and Bucky would have scolded him if he were here. But Steve had to make some money and so he squatted in a corner, from where he could overview the street, but the wind couldn't torment him as much.

For hours, Steve waited patiently for potential customers, the chattering of his teeth becoming worse and worse the more time went by. It was in times like this that he missed his mother and his Bucky. He missed decorating their small apartment with what few Christmas decorations they had. He missed the warm smell of apples, cinnamon and nuts. He missed everything. But at the moment he just wanted to get warm.

His gaze fell on the small bag with the match-boxes. Surely his boss wouldn't mind if he would light one or two matches to keep himself from freezing to death. His decision made, Steve took out a box with shaky hands and opened it, taking one of the thin sticks out.

It took all his willpower to bring it to the side of the box, where he had to strike it against to set it on fire, only barely managing it. But he made it.

The flame was flickering in a warm, yellow colour and Steve had to hold his one free hand around it to protect it from the harsh breeze. But it was warm and that was the main thing. Steve closed his eyes for a moment and let himself drift.

Then it happened.

When he opened his eyes again, he wasn't in the cold alley corner anymore. Instead, Steve found himself in his old apartment. It was warm and full of the things he missed so much – the festive smell, his and Bucky's socks hung up over the fireplace, a tiny, but decorated tree in the corner with a few presents under it.

"Hey, what took you so long, Stevie?" a long gone voice asked him. Steve almost cried, when he saw Bucky on the shabby couch, huddles up under a blanket and obviously waiting for him to join there.

"Buck!" he whispered, tears clouding his vision. If this was a dream, then he didn't want to wake up anymore.

Bucky looked at him strangely. But before Steve could say something, his vision started to fade…

…and he woke up, being back into the unforgiving icy weather.

For a moment, he was confused about what had happened. But when he saw the burnt out match in his hand, he wondered if his dream had to do with these matches. There was only one way to find out.

Steve took out another match and stroke it carefully against the box.

The yellow flame flickered to life and everything became warm again.

Steve was at home. Finally.

I'll see this Advent Calendar Collection as a personal challenge to overcome my writer's block.

If you can guess the story, fairy tale, book or movie mentioned, you'll get a kudos from me.

And feel free to suggest ideas for the drabbles. But it should have at least something to do with Christmas or Winter.

I'm also on Tumblr: .com.