Red, White & Blue | Bucky x Reader

Chapter One

A warm summer breeze ruffles my hair as we make our way down the busy street. Cars whiz by, honking at each other as they pass, and groups of children dash between the red brick buildings, laughter echoing in the air. Although the war continues to ravage Europe, Brooklyn remains untouched by the travesty.

"Does Steve know you're leaving?" I ask Bucky, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind my ear as I look up at my friend.

"No, not yet," he admits.

A little over a year ago, my two best friends, James Buchannan 'Bucky' Barnes, and Steven Grant Rogers, decided to enlist in the US Army after the attack on Pearl Harbor. Bucky was recruited immediately, and they sent him off to train with the 107th Infantry Regiment, where he worked hard and earned the rank of Sergeant. Now, he stands beside me wearing his army green jacket and slacks, the buttons polished, black shoes shined, and his dark hair slicked back under his cap. It's no question that Bucky is attractive, with his blue eyes and sharp jawline, but seeing him in a soldier's uniform only solidifies the point.

Steve, on the other hand, is still trying to enlist. While he too is handsome, with his blue eyes and blond hair, people tend to overlook him due to his small stature and extensive list of health problems. Unfortunately for him, it also means that he doesn't qualify for enlistment, but that doesn't stop him from trying. He's always been one to stand up to bullies, usually with me by his side. Our mothers worked together at the hospital, so we were raised as siblings, ready to protect each other without hesitation. Around age ten, we met Bucky, and the three of us have been inseparable ever since.

"I figured it would be easier to tell him if you were there," Bucky says as we stop at a newsstand, handing the newsagent a nickel and taking a copy of today's paper. The headline reads: World Exposition of Tomorrow, 1943.

I nod in understanding, "He's going to be disappointed that he's not going too... but you know him as well as I do, Buck, Steve won't stop trying to enlist until he's either recruited or arrested."

"Yeah, that's the problem," Bucky agrees, rolling his eyes and looping my arm through his own, leading me further down the street toward the theatre.

"He'll miss you though," I state. "We both will."

Bucky's gaze turns to mine and, as our eyes meet, I feel a twinge in my stomach.

"Promise me that you'll look out for each other while I'm gone," he requests.

"Of course, we will," I promise.

Like the rest of the city, the theatre's exterior shows its age. The red brick walls are weatherworn, while its marquee sign is missing a handful of lightbulbs around the black lettering announcing the film currently offered.

We arrive just as the latest show ends, and the street becomes crowded with people as they exit the theatre. However, as they begin to disperse, we see that Steve is not among them.

"That's strange..." I say, still scanning the remaining crowd for my blond friend. "Do you think he went to see a different film?"

"I'll check inside," Bucky decides. "Can you wait out here in case he shows up?"

I nod and Bucky leaves me standing on the sidewalk. Suddenly, I hear a loud crash from the alley next to the building. Curious to see what made the noise, I peer around the corner to find Steve being knocked to the ground by a man twice his size.

"Hey!" I shout, running down the grimy alley to my friend's side, putting myself between the two men. "That's enough!"

The man's predatory gaze falls on me. "Hey, beautiful. Why don't you ditch the loser and come with me? I'll show you a good time."

"No, thanks," I reply, turning to help Steve off the ground.

"Oh, come on, don't be like that—" the man says as he grabs my arm. On reflex, I spin towards him and punch him in the throat, cutting him off mid-sentence. He drops my arm and staggers back, clutching his neck and gasping for breath. "Bitch!"

The bully prepares to retaliate, raising his fist. But before he can follow through with the punch, Bucky appears behind him and grabs his shoulder.

"Hey! Pick on someone your own size," he threatens as he pulls the bully away from us.

The bully rounds on him, attempting to land a punch to Bucky's head, but Bucky ducks and counters with a punch to the jaw and a swift kick to the rear, sending the man scrambling from the alley.

I help Steve up as Bucky turns back to us, his jaw tense and eyes as cold as he quickly scans me for injury.

"What did he do?" Bucky asks me, his voice low and cold, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Nothing," I answer. "You got here just in time."

Bucky doesn't say anything as his gaze rakes over me again, trying to decide if I'm lying.

"Really, Bucky, I'm fine," I urge him.

He lets out a breath, shaking his head as he does so, and turns to Steve. "You know, sometimes I think you two like getting punched. You okay, punk?"

"I had him on the ropes," Steve replies sheepishly.

"I know you did," I tell him, offering him a small smile before noticing the forgotten piece of paper on the ground.

After picking it up, I unfold it to find Steve's latest enlistment form. Once again, it's been marked 4F, he's been denied enlistment. I look up from the page to find his eyes on the ground, trying to hide his disappointment.

"How many times is this?" Bucky asks, reading the form over my shoulder. "Oh, you're from Paramus now? You know it's illegal to lie on the enlistment form. And seriously, Jersey?"

"You get your orders?" Steve asks instead, now noticing Bucky's uniform.

Bucky's gaze drops to the ground for a moment, and when he looks up once again, his expression is proud, but I can see the fear in his eyes. "The 107th, Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out for England first thing tomorrow."

While he puts on a brave face, with the smile and tilt of his head, I can see that he's scared. He's about to leave the relative safety of Brooklyn to go halfway around the world to fight in a war he might not return from. And even if he does make it home, he won't be the same, none of them will be.

"I should be going," Steve says with disappointment, looking at the ground once again.

"We know how much you want to join the fight," I reply, attempting to console him, "but you can't keep lying on your enlistment forms."

Steve looks up at me, ready to argue, but before he can say anything, Bucky cuts him off. "Come on, man. It's my last night! Gotta get you cleaned up."

"Why?" Steve asks, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Where are we going?"

Bucky hands Steve the newspaper. "The future."

I chuckle and loop my arm through Steve's as we escort him from the alley.