A/N Hello dear readers. As you might have noticed, I changed the titles on the previous chapters. That's because I decided to reuse the 120 oneshot challenge I already used to write as many oneshots featuring Natasha more prominently. In this collection, I will use the same titles, but in a different order. If you have any prompts you'd like to see me write centering on Bucky, my inbox is open for you :) Have a nice week and stay safe!
65. Contort
Bucky stumbled home as the sun was on its highest point and burned mercilessly. His back and feet hurt and he had the feeling he could smell himself, but the wad of dollars in his pockets let him smile. Enough money to buy groceries and pay for Stevie's medicines. The work at the docks was hard work but it paid good. Plus, in three days would be another boxing night. Maybe he could add some money to their savings or buy Rebecca something nice.
He stopped short in his tracks when he saw his little sister sitting on the steps to their little house, her eyes red and puffy and her cheeks wet from tears. "Becca?" Bucky asked softly and leaned against the handrail from the other side. "What's up?"
Rebecca only shook her head and looked down to evade his gaze. Concern pulled his brows together. Bucky pushed away from the handrail and sat down next to her, just waiting. Finally, Rebecca spoke up. "There was a letter for you in the mail today. Big, brown paper. Ma's been crying since." She looked up at him, fresh tears in her eyes. "You're going to fight, right?"
Bucky gulped but worked hard to suppress his panic; there would be time for that later. It had been only a matter of time before they started to draft their soldiers. "Guess I need to see the letter first to tell you for sure. But, yeah, looks like it."
"I don't want you to go."
Out of reflex, Bucky pulled her closer and held Rebecca tightly. "Well, I don't necessarily want to go either, but I don't think we have a choice here. People are needed to fight of the Nazis and if I can keep you safe that way, I'll do so happily."
"But you'll come back, right? You have to promise!" Rebecca looked up at him with big, determined eyes.
"I can't promise you that, Becca. You know that." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, allowing himself a moment of grief and fear for himself. "But I can promise you to do everything to come back home, okay? I'll do my best. But in turn you need to do something for me." He waited until Rebecca had finished wiping her eyes and looked at him. "I need you to look after Ma and Stevie. Can you do that for me?"
Rebecca nodded. "Sure."
"Good. I'll go inside and take a look at that letter." He shoved his free hand in his pocket and pulled out the cash he'd earned that last week. "I know things've been tight, but you now what? Here." He gave her a crumbled dollar and saw her face light up in awe. "It's yours. Don't spend it all on sweets, alright? You know Ma's going to be furious if you do."
"I won't." She hugged him tightly. "Love you."
"Love you, too, Becca." He hugged her just as tightly before letting go. "Now off you go. I'll see you later, yes?" He watched her leave and kept sitting on the stairs. Suddenly, he felt incredibly weary. Still, he managed to get to his feet and climb the few stairs to the front door which he opened with his key. He could hear the sobbing of his mother almost immediately.
Bucky found her in the kitchen, his letter still unopened on the table. As soon as she saw him, fresh tears sprung to her eyes. "Oh, my boy."
"Ma…" Bucky didn't know what to say. He was scared but his ma was so terrified that he didn't want to grieve in front of her. Instead, he held her tight and let her cry. "I'm gonna try and be careful, Ma. I promise." That only made her cry harder.
It took some time, but when his mother had collected herself enough, Bucky was inevitably drawn to the letter that was sitting unopened on their kitchen table. His hands shook when he finally ripped open the envelope and took out the piece of paper that was about to change his life. "I'm supposed to go to the drafting bureau until Friday," he summarized quietly, for fear that his voice would give out. "Then off to basic training on Monday." His hand sank down and he carefully folded the letter back into the envelope. "I'll wash up and go there; there's no use in trying to get some sleep."
"Maybe they'll decide you're no fit."
Bucky managed a weak smile. "Yeah, maybe." He doubted it. He was young, healthy and had built up some muscle and stamina over the last two or three years. Plus, they were getting desperate. There was no chance in hell he was getting out of this. At least not the easy way and he couldn't afford a broken bone. Who would then work the docks? With a serious injury he might be able to stay home, but he would be just one more mouth to feed without being able to bring any money in. He couldn't do that. Not to his Ma, not to Stevie.
~#~#~#~#~#~
"Name?"
"Barnes, James Buchanas."
"That's sir for you, boy." A stern gaze under bushy eyebrows.
Bucky gulped but held his head high. "I'm sorry, sir."
The man in uniform grumbled something Bucky didn't catch but looked back down on the form. "Born?"
"On March 10, 1917, sir."
"Job?"
"Down at the docks, sir. I'm bringing in the money for my mother and sister." Who would care for them once he was in Europe? And for Steve? If there was no money… "Also for a sick friend of mine. He has no family anymore and he's very sick. He needs the money for medication."
The man looked up and raised one eyebrow. "What happened to your father?"
"Died shortly after the Great War, sir." There was no need telling him that his father, if he could be called that, had drunk himself to death, leaving his mother with two small children. "I started working while still in school."
"Finished high school?"
Bucky raised his chin with pride. "Yes, sir."
"Good marks?"
He'd loved science while being in school and he couldn't wait to go to the Stark Expo. Hopefully he wouldn't miss it. If live had been different, he might have applied for a job as engineer. "Yes, sir. Pretty good, if I may say so."
The man smiled and somehow that made Bucky uneasy. "Good. We can use some boys with a bit of brain between their ears."
Damn.
~#~#~#~#~#~
It was the day before he was about to ship out. Bucky had arranged for a double date for him and Steve; he'd never grow tired to throw dames at him. Steve was one of the good guys, if a little dumb at times; sooner or later there would be a girl to see that and take care of him. Or kick his ass. Bucky knew that Steve was jealous of him being drafted. Steve had scarcely talked about something else during the last week. Bucky was just scared, but for his friend he could be brave and act like the cockiness was still there. He was just glad Steve would never have to be shipped off to war. His ass was too scrawny and his asthma would kill him sooner than any bullet could.
Bucky had decided he would try and enjoy his last night at home. Who knew whether he'd ever see it again?