Dear Bucky,
Steve has written and re-written the letter a hundred times. He won't send it. He can't. Even if he could find the right words, the army would never let him reveal what they're doing here. He tries anyway. Tells himself that if he can just get the words out, at least that's something. He starts the 12th try in an hour:
I know I promised I'd try to be careful, but
He crumples up the paper and starts over.
I have a chance to do something great for my country. I'm finally good for something.
That's wrong too. He sighs and rubs his forehead. Forget it. He's not going to send this thing anyways.
Dear Bucky,
I know you told me to be careful and stay safe while you were gone. I said I'd try, and I will. But I have to do this. They say I might be what brings guys like you home safe, if this works. I'll do my best to be there waiting when you get back, but until this war is over, I'm going to do whatever I can to make it shorter
He hesitates, pen leaving a heavy black blot before he remembers to lift it from the page.
I hope you're being careful out there, wherever you are. They won't tell me. You're all the family I got left, Buck. I don't want to lose anybody else. So you get your stupid jerk ass back here in one piece when this is over, you hear me? I will come over there and punch Hitler right in the face if I have to, so help me.
And I wanted you to know, in case something goes wrong and I don't make it…
His hand has started to shake, though he knows he'll burn this page like he's burned all the others. Bucky won't ever see it. He scrubs a hand up and down his face, willing the shaking to subside, until he can write again.
I want you to know you're more than my best friend. You're my brother, you big lunkhead. You're the most important thing in the world to me, Buck. You wanted me to be there when you got back… well I want you to be there too. Just take care, is all.
Steve swallows down the worst of the guilt. He puts his pen back to the page one last time.
I miss you, Buck. I'll see you on the other side, when this is over. Be careful and come back safe, buddy.
-Steve R.
He stares at the page for a long time, now that he's written it all down. Then he starts on another letter. This one is just a drawing he did the other week - their fire-escape, drawn from memory- and a few generic lines.
Dear Bucky,
I hope you're doing ok. I'm alright here. I thought you'd like to see a doodle I did. Be careful out there.
-Steve R.
It's short, it's ugly, and it's not enough. But it's something and it's the best he can offer right now.
He pushes the page into an envelope with the torn out sketch page behind it, and seals it before he can think better of his decision. Drops it in the mail-sack by the barracks door, then feeds his real letter into the lamp he's been writing by.
As the words go up in smoke, he can't help but feel like his old life and the world as he knows it is going too.
Not for the first time, he doesn't sleep a wink all night.