𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

༻ ❁ ༺

January 6, 1944

Dear Alice,

I know you said not to write, but I can't get you out of my head. But I didn't want to leave things the way we did. 

Our time together was too important for it to all get written off cus of one silly fight. 

I never wanted to make you cry.

I hope you will forgive me someday. I don't think I made the wrong choice. We are doing important work. However, I can understand how my choice harmed you. This was something I had to do.  To keep you safe. We 're going to end this war and make sure you can go home safe.

I miss you, Alice.

I've only slept in a proper bed five times this month, yet I'd gladly lie in the dirt every night if it meant seeing your smile when I awoke.

I dream about you most nights.

There's no one to flirt with over breakfast. The good news is that I no longer have to share my apples. I do, however, miss laughing with you. I miss your smiles.

There are so many things I wish I could ask you. Are you getting enough rest? Are you happy? Is the leak in the surgery still there, or does someone have to hold up a bowl when it rains?

Do you miss me as much as I miss you?

I can't tell you what I'm doing, but know that my team is good. I'd trust these guys with more than my life.  I'd trust them with yours.

I'm as safe as I can be. Don't worry about me, Ally. Don't be scared.

I miss you

Thinking of you,

Your Bucky

༻ ❁ ༺

Bucky folded the paper into a ball and flung it into the roaring fire. There was nothing he could write that was good enough. He simply couldn't find the appropriate words to express his feelings.

Steve lowered himself to the ground next to Bucky. "Sun's going to be up soon."

"Yeah." Bucky sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

Steve deliberately didn't look at Bucky. He prodded a crumbling log with a stick instead. "Did you get any sleep?"

"Couple hours." Bucky shook his head and stuffed his notepad back into his bag. He either experienced nightmares about what had transpired or saw Alice while he slept. 

Neither of them were very relaxing.

"Gonna be ready?" Steve's gaze was drawn to Bucky this time. Bucky understood - even though they were best friends, it didn't mean Steve would put the rest of his squad in jeopardy if Bucky faltered.

Bucky stood there watching the remaining shards of the letter crumble into ash.

Alice was under the impression that he had chosen this above her. The reality was that he'd made this decision because of her. She was terrified, but she persisted.

He could do this. He could protect his best friend and make a world where Alice didn't have to be afraid.

"Always."

༻ ❁ ༺

February 19, 1944

It was dark when the Howling Commandos stumbled into the Allied camp. 

Their raid on the Hydra factory in Poland had been a success, but Bucky was becoming bored of tramping back to the Allied lines after each mission. He was so tired that he had no idea which camp they were in.

He froze when he looked up at the flagpole. He locked his gaze on the two flags that were gently waving.

One red with the Union Jack in the top corner. The other green with a red leaf and crossed sword on it.

How many times had he seen that pair of flags last year?

Too many.

Pretty much any time he went looking for trouble.

No. He hadn't been looking for trouble. He'd been looking for her.

"I'm... I'm going to go get my ankle checked out. Turned it on a root a while ago. It's a little tender."

Steve glanced up at the flags. That explained why Bucky was acting strange. "Sure Buck," he said with a slight smirk. "We'll see you in the mess for dinner."

Steve set a hand on Pinky's shoulder and hustled him away before he could ask why Bucky hadn't said anything earlier.

This wasn't an indictment of their medic. This was Bucky figuring out what he needed.
  

༻ ❁ ༺
  

It was a good thing the British had the same camp layout no matter where they were.

Bucky was more focused in who was around him than in where he was going. Alice had to be in the area. He only had to find her.

He noticed her exiting the hospital's main tent. Her wimple was already gone, and her hair glistened in the lamplight. "Sorry to bother you, sister."

Alice froze. She wasn't supposed to hear that voice again. Maybe in her dreams, but not in real life. Not here.

"I just had a medical problem I wanted someone to take a look at." Bucky took a few slow steps towards her.

"I... I'm actually just finishing my shift. So, you'll have to ask one of the other girls, or Corporal Montgomery's just inside if you ask..." The sudden hot sensation of his palm on her waist caused Alice to pause. What allowed him to get so close?

"That's a shame." A strand of her hair had fallen down from the tidy knot at the base of her neck and had dropped forward, covering one eye. Bucky wrapped it around his finger and twisted it.

"I was hopeful that my favorite nurse would be able to assist me. With something so delicate, she's the only person I trust. She's a lot more sensitive than the rest of the team."

Alice steeled herself. She could do this. She just had to stay strong. It was one playful conversation. They'd had hundreds of them. They didn't mean anything. Except she had fallen a little more in love with him every time.

"And what... what seems to be the matter?"

"Well you see, sister. It's my heart. It just hasn't been the same the last few months. I think it's broken. Here. Listen."

As Alice rolled her eyes and scoffed at his corny words, Bucky pulled her head into his chest. She fit so nicely there. The space between them was warm even in the cold air.

"It sounds fine to me." Alice pushed away from him. It was the total opposite of what she had hoped to do. She desired to sink into him. Sob with relief as she wraps her arms around him.

He's alright. He's here, and he's safe.

"That's odd. It's a lot better now." Bucky tucked her stray hair behind her ear with care. "It's got to be the soothing touch you nurses are known for."

"I should go." Alice whispered. If she wanted to protect her heart, she couldn't stay here like this.

"Right." Bucky lowered his hand to his side, attempting to hide his pain. "You've probably had a long day. You're exhausted, and I appeared out of nowhere."

He dipped his head and quickly kissed her cheek. "Goodbye, Ally."

He loathed having to walk away from her. It was something he had always hated. This was by far the worst experience he'd ever had. At the very least, he'd had the opportunity to say his goodbyes.

Wasn't it said that this helped to repair a broken heart? Closure or some bullshit like that.

"Bucky, wait."

Before he'd made it even a few paces she was in his arms again, clinging as if she'd never let go.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I apologize for what I said. I was terrified because I believed I'd lost you, and I missed you terribly, and — and — You can write. And I'll respond in writing. And—"

The next thing she knew, his hands were on her face and his lips were pressed against hers.

With a little, pathetic whimper, she melted against him, fitting in perfectly as if she had always been supposed to be there. She shifted, twining her arms around the back of his neck to draw him in closer, rising on tiptoe to crush her mouth to his more firmly.
  

༻ ❁ ༺
  

February 26, 1944

Dear Alice,

I thought writing letters was hard enough back at base.

When you're a member of 'Captain America's' crew, it turns out they're even more concerned about what gets redacted. We've been quite busy, and I'm not sure I can even tell you about [REDACTED].

I've been racking my brains to come up with something to say to you. I think I've figured everything out, but if it all goes black, know that I tried.

Do you know it's been a year since I caused you to drop your sheets? I can't believe it's just been a year. It feels like a fraction of a second or a lifetime. Countless lifetimes.

I had a dream last night.

We were back in our meadow, you and I. The sun shone brightly, keeping us warm. Bees were the only thing that could be heard. You were reading to me again as I had my head in your lap. This time, though, the story had a happy ending. No one tried to keep them apart when the guy found the perfect girl.

It's raining here.

I miss my doll.

Thinking of you every day.

Your Bucky.
 
    

༻ ❁ ༺

  
March 9, 1944

One of the many things Alice missed about the pre-war days was colour.

She missed wearing brightly colored blouses and browsing her favorite boutiques for new fabrics and designs she might copy.

When the words wouldn't come and she needed something to do with her hands, she took up knitting as a hobby a year after arriving at the front. Gwen had been patient and generous enough to teach her, and she had preserved her sanity in the process.

But of course, even that had been restricted.

Not the sanity, but the knitting.

There were even rules on what colors to use and what designs to make them in out here. A bright red scarf in the middle of a battlefield would be an instant target, she understood. She yearned for more options, though.

She'd gotten her hands on some fine navy blue wool a few months ago, one of the few colors permitted for sending to the front. She'd always known who it was for, even if she'd refused to admit it at the time.

Despite this, she had never begun. Fall had been a nightmare, to put it mildly. She was ready to start up again when she and Bucky parted ways, and it wasn't the best moment to start either.

But things were different now. She had hope, could see the light on the horizon.

He had always been the one who brought her gifts, modest tokens to brighten her day. And she had so little to offer him in return. It was her turn to surprise him this time.

She'd started working on his gift the day they'd reconciled, digging out the wool and her long-forgotten knitting needles from the back of her footlocker and getting to work. She knew his birthday was in the middle of March, and she'd have to work quickly if she wanted to finish on time.

Then, a few nights ago, Alice's gaze had fallen upon her book of knitting patterns. It had fallen off her cot, open to a design for fingerless gloves.

She scowled as she examined the pattern requirements. She'd finished the scarf with the rest of her yarn. To check whether she could get more, she'd have to pay a visit to the quartermaster. Hopefully the same shade of blue. Bucky still looked great in it, so she'd take the green if she had to, but it'd be nice to give him a matching set.

Even though it was tempting to race over there right away, cooler heads - specifically Gwen's - prevailed. It was late, and she was already suffering from hand cramps. During her lunch break, she may inquire about more yarn.

Someone must have been smiling down on her from above. Alice dashed for the quartermaster's tent as soon as she was free from her morning tasks, only to see Martha leaving the tent ahead of her.

As Martha turned around, Alice skidded to a standstill, nearly tripping over her own shoes. Martha abruptly came to a halt in front of her, handing her a new skein of dark blue yarn.

"I - what - ?"

With a nonchalant shrug, Martha smiled at her as she accepted the yarn. "Last night, you were talking about it. I was going to request a few things anyhow, so I figured I'd ask for the yarn as well."

Alice didn't even stop to think. She just threw herself at the other woman, wrapping her up in an enthusiastic hug. "Martha, you are a saint! Thank you! Thank you, thank you!"

The blonde woman laughed, green eyes sparkling with amusement. "You're welcome."

Alice swiftly released her, her face hot but too pleased with herself to be embarrassed about what she had just done. She hadn't realized how close she and Martha had become in the last few months, ever since she'd overcome her unreasonable fear and begun to interact with her.

"Truly, you are a life saver. I was afraid they wouldn't have any left."

"There were a few," Martha told her. "But I wasn't sure when you'd have a chance to come down here, so I picked one up just in case."

"Really, thank you again." She stepped back, tucking a loose lock of hair back behind her ear.

"Teach me how to do the little embroidered flowers you did on the end of your apron and we'll call it even."

Alice laughed. "Deal."

Still beaming, the two nurses parted ways, Martha to the mess tent and Alice to her footlocker to secure the priceless wool.

She expected the gloves to take longer than they did. They were considerably more difficult to create than a plain rectangle scarf, and she had to rework the fingers on the first one several times before she was satisfied, but she finally finished them.

Her biggest problem today was that Bucky's birthday was approaching, and she had no idea where to send his gift. It would be late, there was no way about it. But if she sent them the next morning, they should get to him soon.