You're My Best Friend

No one's best friend

BUCKY's POV
1550 words

I feel it. I feel the unbearable pain coming back to me. That means I'm not dead. Of course it was too good to be true, of course the world wouldn't let go of me but for what reason?

Steve was the previous reason. Is Sam my current reason? No, he can't be. He doesn't want me, he doesn't even like me.

He hates me even, I'm sure of it, because if he did care even a little, he wouldn't have let me leave. He wouldn't have let go of me like I was nothing, like I was just his best friend's best friend, Steve's best friend.

Steve. God, I miss him. I miss him everyday, like never before. I remember the short time when they dragged me through the thick snow and how I only had one thought on my mind.

Steve.

He was the thought and unfortunately, he will always be the thought that I can't seem to let go of. I want to, I really want to forget him but if I do that, it feels like I'm letting go of a part of myself.

The only part I have truly ever known. Now, I barely have nothing left of myself, only the one thought of Steve and that is it. I wish I knew who I am, without Steve.

Suddenly, I don't know after how long, I start to feel my body again but what terrifies me is that I feel a hand keeping pressure to the back of my head.

I don't know who's hand it is. What if it is a stranger, a kidnapper or worse, a murderer. What if someone finally is taking revenge for what I did all those years of pain, hurt, torture and more pain? What if-

I stop myself when I hear an angelic voice talking, but it sound like mumbles to me. Then, I hear it, clear as a summer day.

"Bucky?!! Hey, look at me, please, you have to look at me!"

I don't want to because I know with certainty what I'm going to see but still, I do as the voice says. I look up at the person and I'm caught off guard by the sight above me.

My eyes trail over the soft, dark skin and then they meet the softest brown eyes that could, with certainty, kill anyone if wanted.

But the eyes seem to be full of anger? Worry? Pity? Hatred? I don't know and I don't want to either so I look at the surroundings and that is when I realize that I'm in an apartment, and not laying in the staircase, on the floor, in a puddle of blood.

Am I in Sam's apartment? I wouldn't know though because I have never been there. In all the years I have known Sam, I have never been to his place, or even met a family member of his.

Not that it is required in a partnership between two colleagues but it would have been nice to get to know Sam.

I do know that I, myself, is not the most open man and I rather keep everything private and bottled up inside. But when I think about it, Sam knows everything there is to know about me, excluding my mental state of course.

But I know nothing about Sam. And that makes my emotions take over my body and mind and I am soon sobbing hysterically, not caring about the fact that I'm wetting Sam's lap, or that my head is laying in Sam's lap.