ghost

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A/N: words: 741. HAPPY BIRTHDAY BUCKAROO. heres angst because i've been writing a lot of just nauseatingly sweet stuff and needed a light heartbreak. anyway, enjoy!

 The cold winter months eased into march, not that Bucky had spent much time in Canada's snowy weather, anyway. He couldn't stay in the country for much longer, only a few more days, and he'd be miles away, leaving cold leads for Sam to follow. Sam, who had since replaced Steve on this dog chase. Sam, who had a bright smile, and a headstrong determination. Who had soft lips Bucky only got a taste of, before he was dragged by the wind to the next corner of the world. Sam, who had gentle hands despite the pain left on his palms. Hands that burned a searing print on Bucky's heart, everlasting, as far as Bucky was concerned.

Sam, who as of right now, had pulled up to the very motel Bucky had been staying. And Bucky thought, to hell with it.

He let Sam in. Sam looked jittery, holding a small box. Bucky raised an eyebrow at him, and Sam just shrugged it off.

"Wilson." Bucky croaked out, a ghost of the Russian accent fading away with every breath.

"Barnes." Sam said, a gentle smile on his lips. Bucky smiled back, eyes dancing to the box.

"What's in the box?"

"It's your birthday, Buckaroo." Bucky squinted at him, trying to trace his mind back to a memory hidden in the shell of his mind. His mother singing him happy birthday, maybe, or his sister smiling proudly as he unwrapped her homemade gift. Alas, the thoughts dancing in his head were only dreams, fiction, no real memories.

"Oh." Bucky breathed out, taking the box hesitantly from Sam's hands. In it, he found a carton of cupcakes, and a pile of notepads and journals. He tried to stifle down the memories of HYDRA that bubbled up in his mind like mile, and looked to Sam.

"Bit more to it." Sam told him. Bucky sat down on the bed beside him, placing the cupcakes down. He found the top notebook, words scribbled in Sam's handwriting, and all words that Bucky has said to him.

My worlds cave in, but you feel like a barrier.

I only know who I am when I know you.

Past can't be scrubbed away, Sammy.

Time can't kill grief. It is to grief what gas is to a fire.

My ma never wanted me to fight, scared I wouldn't settle down. I look at you and I know why now.

"Sammy." Bucky breathed out, a true smile tugging at his lips. "You've outdone yourself, Wilson."

"Hope so." Sam said smugly, take a seat beside Bucky.

"Really, thank you." Bucky mumbled, grabbing a cupcake from beside him.

"My pleasure, Buck. But, please get better hotel rooms, this is vile." Sam joked, stretching out across the bed.

"I find it quite cozy." Bucky mused through a mouthful of cupcake and frosting, turning to look at Sam through narrowed eyes. Sam grinned, sitting up.

"You got a little something." Sam told him, his thumb coming up to brush a glob of frosting from the corner of Bucky's mouth, then some frosting on the tip of his nose. Bucky scowled, a pink blush peppering his cheeks and nose. A few laughs bubbled from Sam's chest, making Bucky bite back a smile.

"You're mean to me."

"And only to you, Jamie." Sam mused, grabbing a cupcake from the box beside Bucky. They ended up laying down on the not completely sanitary beds, exchanging lazy kisses, with an aftertaste of sugar. And it all became real. And it all had to become real. With Sam's face buried in the crook of Bucky's neck, a drowsy murmur of "Happy Birthday", his slow breathing thing evening out until he was asleep, Bucky realized Sam wasn't just a ghost sent to haunt his lips. He wasn't a devil cursed to climb, he was an angel fallen too soon, right into Bucky's arms. Bucky could no longer let him be a phantom that haunted his dreams, he wanted him as real and as honest as Sam would let him.

He wanted to love him. But, he could wait until morning. He could until morning to hear Sam say he loved him, but that he had to leave. And Bucky would understand, but he would make Sam promise he'd come back, that he wouldn't leave him in the dust. And Sam told him he couldn't even if he tried. And then, he was gone.

Hell of a birthday, Bucky thought. 

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