→ you get mistaken for strangers by your own friends

[yourbestguysgun]

[ There's a clear view of the Rogers-Barnes kitchen coming through on the feed, Bucky hunched over the counter with a pen and a pad of paper, a half bitten pen between his fingers. He scrawls for a minute before it ends up propped by a coffee mug for the whole world to see. Why, he has no idea, it just feels like a good idea at the time. ]

Dear Santa,

Sorry I told Steve y'weren't real when we were eight, okay buddy? It was a mistake, but Johnny did tell me first, so I can't be blamed for the big fuss it caused, right? Anyway, I figure as it is the season an' all, I should write.

For Christmas I kinda only want like a few things, so don't worry.

A carton of those fancy cigarettes Jones smokes, cause I kinda miss the taste.
A bagel from Marcy's Diner, that's impossible, I got it, but you don't get good cream cheese here like Marcy does.
My Johnson. I guess Santa don't know much about guns, so it's the M1941. We served well together. And I want mine, not just anyones, it's kinda important.
For the people I care about to catch a break, okay?
I want Steve to have a good Christmas. Yeah, I don't care, he's usually sick, or alone, or working, and then there's the war, and I just want him to have a good time, so you can ignore the crap I've written there if you do this one thing for me. If anyone can swing it, it'd be you.

Thanks,

J. Barnes.

[ There's a moment of silence as it all finally registers, and Bucky starts swearing. ] Oh, you've got to be fuckin' kiddin' me, what is this crap?

[ Then the pad is snatched up, Bucky's hand hovering in place holding an old silver lighter, and the whole thing goes up in smoke. ] Shit. [ Feed snapped off. ]

Comments

[punchedhitler]

It's not crazy. Our landlady made it.

[He takes off his own scarf and puts it down on the table.]

[yourbestguysgun]

Why does she have to like me too? [ Oh god, he has to wear it, doesn't he? Old ladies still love him. ]

[punchedhitler]

Well...she made one for Tony, too.

[A shrug]

I think she makes them to keep from being bored.

[yourbestguysgun]

[ Tony is the spawn of Satan. Literally. He does not need a scarf. ] Awh, y'mean she doesn't love me?

[punchedhitler]

Tony's is purple, yours is blue. I think she loves you plenty.

[Steve pulls them out of the bundle and wraps Bucky's around his neck]

So, I thought, maybe, we could get a tree?

[yourbestguysgun]

[ Could you be any more of a mother hen, Steve? Bucky's just squinting at him slightly. ] A tree?

[punchedhitler]

Yes. You know, green, tall, made of wood and leaves, often decorated with lights and ornaments this time of year? You put presents under it?

[yourbestguysgun]

We can get a tree. [ Look, he's not really with it. ] No need to me a smartass.

[punchedhitler]

Sorry.

[A pause]

Are you okay, Bucky?

[yourbestguysgun]

Yeah, no. Sorry, I'm distracted.

[ Brushing ash into the palm of his hand to lose it down the sink. ] Didn't sleep real well last night. So, okay, tree? We're gonna get in the festive spirit?

[punchedhitler]

Nightmares?

[Concerned Steve is concerned]

I thought that we could decorate it, that's all. I haven't had one since I was a kid.

[yourbestguysgun]

No. [ Yes. ] It don't matter, not the only soldier to have nightmares.

We can get a tree. [ Flashing him a smile. ] It'll be neat. 'Course, I'm blamin' the whole ordeal on you.

[punchedhitler]

[Pause.]

I get them all the time.

[Forget the tree. Steve's gonna press this issue first.]

[yourbestguysgun]

Really?

[ And there's a flash of concern in his eyes, because they're both this way, worried more for their friend than themselves. ] You've never said.

[punchedhitler]

[Steve shrugs]

Who am I to complain? Plenty of people been through so much worse.

[He sits at the table and unloads his bundle of goodies from the landlady]

[yourbestguysgun]

You're Captain America, I think your allowed to worry about your mental wellbein' and people'll take note.

[punchedhitler]

[Another shrug]

I figure as long as I don't yell out secrets in my sleep, I probably should just keep them to myself.

Why didn't you say anything?

[yourbestguysgun]

Ain't no point. Mostly I just wake up and find somethin' to do instead of tryin' to drop back off. Seems t'work.

[punchedhitler]

Are you telling me you go wandering through the apartment in the middle of the night and I never wake up?

[SNORT]

Some soldier I am.

[yourbestguysgun]

Maybe I'm just stealthy, huh? You ever thought of that?

[punchedhitler]

Or I just got so used to you bringing dames by late that I sleep through your movements.

[That's a lie, because Steve always sat up and listened to Bucky and his dames. Not on purpose; when he was smaller, sleeping was more furtive, harder to reach.]

[yourbestguysgun]

S'not like I make a lot o' noise when I wake up now. I can be considerate.

[punchedhitler]

You're considerate all the time. You just don't like people to think that.

[yourbestguysgun]

[ Leaning in conspiratorially. ] Shh.

[punchedhitler]

I'll tell the world.