Cold nipped at his face as he watched the families brining their rosy cheeked children to see the animated windows at the Lord and Taylors store. The dads pointed and mothers took photos with phones cajoling their children to smile. The wind picked up and his ears began to burn; he was wearing no hat.

"Steve! Look at that!" a younger Barnes poked his friend in the shoulder to look at the faux bells swinging in time with recorded music, shining like freshly polished silver.

"That is really something." a thinner, smaller Steve commented pulling his coat tighter around his bony body. Bucky noticed and handed him his scarf, a thin wool strip, and wrapped it carefully around his ears. "Thanks, Bucky."

"Let's get you inside before you catch your death." Barnes stated and tried to stand between him and the wind.

It was Christmas, 1938.

Bucky didn't have a scarf today. Steve wouldn't need one; it was his first Christmas without him.

He turned into the wind, not feeling the icy shards either because he was in ice himself for so long, or if because he had nothing to feel it with. Putting his head down to the chill, he walked with no particular direction, side stepping people rushing home to families, parties and loved ones.

Turning a corner of an alley the scent of garbage filled his nose and a memory came into the void of thought. "Captain America!" a villager cried in German accented English. Steve faced the man, shield at the ready. His breath came in white puffs, running towards the Commandos after their victory in the small town. "Captain America!" Snow began to fall in lazy circles around them.

Bucky's rifle was at his shoulder in an instant, the villager in the cross hairs. "Bucky, put it down." Barnes didn't move. Steve rested his hand on Bucky's barrel pointing it downward away from the civilian. He cut Steve a look but didn't take his finger off the trigger.

"Danke! Danke!" he said, hands reaching up to the tall star-spangled man.

"You're welcome." Steve replied halfheartedly taking in the destruction around him as the snow fell. The smell of overturned trash bins burning rankled his nose.

"You saved us from the Red Skull. Please let us share Christmas with you."

"It's Christmas already?" Gabe said incredulously.

"Time flies when you're having fun." Dum Dum commented, rubbing his moustache.

"Who says we're having fun?" Bucky added ominously, his finger still on the trigger, suspicious eye on the man.

"I say we take up this chap on his offer. Better than rations." Falsworth offered.

"I second that." Morita added rubbing his hands together in the cold.

Derenier spat on the ground," Je n'amie pas ca."

Gabe looked at him with a frown, "Not sure what your problem is."

Cap looked around at his crew, and at the townsman who looked eager to repay the Howling Commandos with hospitality. He held Bucky's gaze the longest while making his decision, "Maybe another time. Let's move on to our next mission."

The men looked disappointedly at their leader and then at the crestfallen man, who nodded in acknowledgement then turned away. Bucky held back still feeling uneasy, as the others began to pick up their things and Steve began to walk away.

It was barely a rustle of fabric and a faint click, but Bucky heard it, whipping round, rifle at his shoulder, the bullet already flying with his reflex. Barnes returned the shot at the very man who had just invited them to Christmas dinner. Steve shouted down as if in slow motion to the Commandos, his shield raised. The German's bullet streaked through air, ripping through Barnes' jacket and through his left shoulder, Barnes' bullet finding its home in the German's skull.

"Bucky!" Steve yelled seeing Barnes kicked backwards with the impact. The snow gracefully fell with him as he collapsed to the ground. The Commandos took up a protective circle around their fallen comrade, Falsworth pulling out the medical kit.

"I'm fine." Bucky said with a groan as red stained the white behind him. "That asshole put a hole in my jacket!"

Cap leaned over Falsworth worriedly, glancing up occasionally to make sure there were no more friendly villagers. The smoke and fire from battle were their only company. "Damn you Barnes!"

"Merry Christmas. Guess I was naughty." Bucky chuckled dryly with a pained grimace as Falsworth packed the gunshot with gauze, the red in stark contrast to his undershirt.

"Looks to be clean through. Just got to stop the bleeding." Falsworth declared.

Steve began pale with worry like the snow swirling around them. The rest of the Commandos feeling the threat was gone, drew in closer.

"How did you know?" Gabe asked.

Bucky looked up from the ground, starting to feel chilled, "He was too clean."

The Commandos thought for a moment and then began to agree with small nods. "Let's get out of here and set up camp." Steve said and looked at Barnes, "Can you stand?"

"I'll make it." Bucky replied and took the help to rise, throwing his right arm over his best friend.

"Merry Christmas, I guess." Steve said, supporting Barnes.

"I need to have a word with Santa, apparently." Barnes grumbled as they moved off to the woods and their next encampment.

Bucky reached up and absently touched where his flesh shoulder used to be and the bullet wound that disappeared when he fell from the train and lost his left arm. That was one of the best Christmases he remembered because it was the last one they were all together- the Commandos and Steve.

A few days later, the street barricades began to appear around New York City in Time Square like seasonal mushrooms as the population of tourists began to also increase as if a plague of locusts had come. New Years was here; a fresh start, a time to reset and begin anew.

Bucky sat at the small table in Sam and his shared apartment in Brooklyn, not far from the Dumbo neighborhood he and Steve once lived in. He stared out the window at the pigeons whirling in circles through cold air and grey skies. The Times set folded in half before him, the script bending around the page making strange words and bizarre headlines. Barnes still liked to read the print news instead of from a screen even if it was mostly ads these days.

"Bucky?" a familiar voice came out to him as he was lost in the reverie.

Barnes blinked and looked, Sam Wilson stood there, a hot cup of something in his hand.

"Hey."

"Hey." Sam handed him the cup; Bucky tasted it. It was hot chocolate.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Sam stood there taking up a cup of his own cocoa, waiting for Bucky with infinite patience. "Wanna talk about it?" he finally asked.

Barnes looked at Sam, his eyes filled with a wild range of emotions but mostly loss.

With a sigh and blinking his eyes a few times, Barnes replied, "Sure."

Sam let him set the pace of the conversation as he took the seat opposite him at the small table. He moved the Times and saw an article about Stark and how he was the Man of the Year; no mention of Steve.

"Well, I finally get to be older than him." Barnes tried to laugh, but it was more of a bark.

Sam smiled, "Time doesn't stop, even for superheroes."

"I never thought…."

"That you'd be separated like this?"

Barnes looked past Sam at the wall, "Yeah."

Sam nodded in support. "It's hard. I'm not going to tell you that I have the magic elixir to make it all better. You've lived long enough to know that."

Bucky nodded quietly not trusting his voice.

"But just because you're the product from a different time of stiff upper lips, doesn't mean you can't reach out. I'm here for you just as much as he was. I'm not the same as him, and I don't have your history, but I still care. I want to help you any time you need it. It's what friends do."

With a swallow, Bucky looked gratefully at Sam, a few tears on his cheeks, "I know. I know."

Sam gave a small smile.

((( for those of you suffering this holiday season remember- there are people there to help: National Suicide Prevention Line: Call 1-800-273-8255 ))))