4.
Brooklyn, New York
May 4th, 1942
Steve knocks on the door of the Barnes family apartment at eight sharp the next morning, much to Bucky's surprise, who was already awake and loitering around the kitchen after only managing to sleep an hour or two. Steve has dark shadows under his eyes, indicating that he got very little sleep the night before. Bucky assumes he'd been up late thinking about their promise to each other as well.
"Steve?" Bucky asks, opening the door to his friend. Bucky's still in his pajamas, his hair unruly after a fitful sleep and falling in his eyes without its usual dose of gel. "What are you doing here so early? It's a Sunday."
"The recruitment center opens at nine. I want to be there for the opening," Steve informs him, walking quietly into the apartment so as to not wake the rest of the Barnes family.
"Steve–" Bucky hisses in protest, but stops when he sees Steve's glare. He remembers his first promise, just to be there to support Steve, and hurries through his routine to get ready with little grumbling.
They make it to the recruitment center by nine, right in the heart of Brooklyn. The building is pristine both inside and out, a relatively new build. Inside, it has a hospital-like ambience, with white floors and walls, and small curtained-off rooms forming a corridor past the reception desk. The waiting area is empty, most people not making their way to the center at such an early hour on a weekend. Bucky sits silently in one of the plastic chairs lining the wall as Steve approaches the desk to sign in. He watches carefully as Steve gives his name to the sullen-looking nurse at the counter, who stares him up and down with an eyebrow raised and obediently hands over a clipboard with forms. Steve brings it back to the seats, plopping down beside Bucky. Bucky feels horrified at the look of excitement on Steve's face.
Steve fills out the form quickly, printing his information in his elegant, artistic cursive writing. He ticks a lot of yes boxes, rather worryingly, resulting in a long list of past or current illnesses and afflictions. He asks Bucky a few questions when his memory fails him, like "How many times do you think I've had pneumonia, Buck?", and with every question he answers honestly, his hope and excitement seems to fade. He finally takes the completed forms back to the nurse. She scans them carefully, her eyebrows climbing higher and higher on her forehead as she reads Steve's rather extensive list of medical conditions, but files the form nonetheless. After that, the friends sit in a strained silence as they wait for Steve's name to be called for his physical.
Bucky's leg taps on the floor to conceal his nervous energy. "What are you going to do if they take you?" He asks as a last-ditch attempt to talk Steve out of his decision.
"What you normally do when you join the Army?" Steve asks snidely, glaring at Bucky. His mood has been completely ruined by filling out the forms, one of the first times Steve has willingly confided his entire medical history to anyone but his doctor, his mother, and Bucky. It's embarrassing for him to admit how weak and sick he truly is.
"You gonna leave your ma?" Bucky points out, knowing it's a low-blow, and he feels guilty as soon as the words leave his mouth.
"Yeah, I am," Steve says stubbornly. "It'll hurt, but plenty of other guys are leavin' their ma's too."
Bucky's mouth turns into a flat line, but he nods in surrender and turns away from Steve just as Steve's name is called by the nurse. Steve stands and follows the woman into the curtained room, where Bucky vaguely hears the woman tell Steve to take off his shirt. He laughs quietly, imagining Steve's face turning bright red as he bears his slight frame for examination.
The only other man in the center, who entered not two minutes ago, sits down few down seats away from Bucky. He fills out his forms quickly, ticking no to all the ailments, before returning the form and then sitting down again. He looks at Bucky out the side of his eye, taking in Bucky's relaxed posture, then leans over a little bit.
"What infantry are you joining?" He asks, his tone light and friendly as though they're talking about baseball. "I'm hoping for the 101st."
"Not joining anything," Bucky says, rather clipped. He isn't going to join anything prematurely and risk himself getting in and Steve getting rejected.
"But you gotta be in it," the man persists.
"Don't have to be if I don't want to."
"You gotta," the man replies, his voice incredulous that Bucky would consider skipping out on the war.
"No, I don't. It's a free country, or haven't you heard?" Bucky snaps, turning to glare at the man. He's not really a man, just a kid, maybe eighteen if he's lucky. "Are you even old enough to join?"
"Wanted to join in December, but missed out. I was too young," the kid admits, blush coloring his tanned cheeks.
"Here's a tip: don't. Don't throw your life away," he tells the kid, like some professional on the topic. He folds his arms over his chest and turns away from the kid, abruptly ending their conversation. The other man silently looks around the room, stealing worried glances toward Bucky, suddenly looking very unsure of himself. When his name is called, he disappears into one of the curtained rooms.
Steve exits from behind the curtains then, his face contorted into a pinched frown and his hand clutching a thin yellow slip of paper. Bucky feels relief settle in his stomach that Steve obviously hasn't been accepted, followed by remorse for thinking such things about his friend. No matter how relieved he is, he resorts to be sympathetic for Steve, standing up and walking toward his friend.
"What's the verdict?" He asks Steve warily, though he already knows the answer. He hopes his voice doesn't betray his overwhelming relief that Steve hasn't been accepted – at least, not this time. He hopes he sounds generally interested.
"They took one look at me and then my chart, and stamped a 4F without even asking me a question," Steve tells him, his shoulders tense and his fists curled into balls. "It isn't fair."
"Life ain't fair, Stevie," Bucky tells him solemnly. Steve only nods in agreement.
He throws an arm over Steve's shoulder as they exit the recruitment center. Bucky hurries out rather quickly, worried the nurse will look at him and say, "Hey, you're fit and fighting and healthy, you're in". He sneaks a peak back inside, watching as the teenager he'd talked to walks back out of the examination block, naively excited about the prospect of the fight with a white slip in his pale hand. He imagines the kid with a bullet through his forehead, shivers, and shoves the thought from his mind.
"He wouldn't even listen to me," Steve continues, bringing Bucky back from his rather vivid imagination. "I tried to tell him this was what I wanted most. Doesn't it make sense to have your most passionate recruits on the front lines? The ones who actually want to fight for the war?"
"Well yeah, it does," Bucky says, because it is true. Half the guys actually out there fighting probably couldn't give a damn about the cause. "But they're not going to think about that. All they want to know is that the men they send out there will be able to fight, physically. They can't have a whole platoon of soldiers who'll drop dead at the first sign of flowers and pollen in the air in spring."
Steve huffs angrily, ignoring Bucky's barb. "I'll just keep going to the gym and try again in a month or so."
"Steve, if they turned you down because of your medical record, I don't think boxing is going to do much good. Boxing doesn't magically cure your asthma, or your anemia, or anything else you got goin' on," Bucky reasons.
"I just wanted a chance," Steve says quietly, his voice conceding defeat. Bucky sighs along with his friend.
"I know, pal. There are plenty of things you can do here, though. You don't have to go overseas to be of service."
"Like what? Try to promote war bonds to people who can't afford them? Work in some stinking factory making ammunition with the women?" Steve asks sarcastically.
"All perfectly respectable jobs," Bucky tells Steve seriously. "In fact, I'll do them with you, if you want. Staying in Brooklyn is nothing to be ashamed of. Don't let anyone make you feel like you have to prove something."
"I'm not proving anything to anyone, I'm doing it for myself," Steve says with finality, and Bucky doesn't quite know how to respond.