Chapter Text
December 1941
Bucky was standing in the doorway of his sons room. This was it. This would be the last time he would see Peter before the war was over. The lights where of but he could still make out the sleeping figure that was his son.
Without thinking too much he slowly entered the room, walking closer to the bed. Peter shifted lightly in his sleep at the sound of his fathers steps, but didn’t wake up.
”Peter”, Bucky said softly. Peter shifted again and slowly opened his eyes, bringing up one tiny hand to rub his eyes as he yawned.
”Papa?” Peter said a bit confused.
”Peter, Papa has to leave for a little while”, Bucky said, trying to keep his voice steady. ”But i promise you that I will be back.” God, he hoped he could keep that promise.
”Okay” Peter said and closed his eyes again, not understanding what his father meant. ”Promise to be back soon”, he continued with another little yawn.
”I will try”, he said, then he picked his son up, hugging him tightly one last time, before putting him down again. Peter was already asleep by the time he had tucked him in again.
”I promise I will try” Bucky whispered over the from of the sleeping form of his son, before turning and leaving the room, making sure to do it as quietly as possible to not wake him again.
Once outside the room he went to the foyer, put on his coat to get ready to leave.
”Did you say goodbye to Peter?” a woman said behind him. He turned around to come face to face with Mary, his wife. In truth he had never wanted to Marry her, and she probably hadn’t wanted to marry him either, but then she got pregnant and that was that. Don’t get him wrong, she is an incredible woman and the get along well, but he knew that he could never love her fully.
”Yes of course” he said back as he tied his shoes.
”Then I’ll see you when you get back”, she said, then turned around and walked into the kitchen, leaving him alone.
This was it. He would walk out that door for maybe the last time now. He took a deep breath too steady himself as he opened the door and stepped out.
March 1942
”MAMA! MAMA!” Peter squealed as he ran inside with a few pieces of paper in his hands. ”Mama papa write again!” he squealed excitedly as he put the letters infront of his mother. ”Read for me?”
Mary chuckled slightly at his excitement as he sat down infront of her.
”This from papa?” she asked amused, already knowing that it was. Bucky would write at least to Peter at least every second week, but he tried even more often. Peter nodded enthusiastically.
She carefully opened the letter and started reading out loud:
”Dear Peter
It’s been four months since i last saw you, and i’m counting the days until i can see you again. Your mama sent me a photograph with your last letter, and i can’t believe how big you’ve gotten. I hope you’re not to tall when i get back, I still want to be able to pick you up.
I keep it in my pocket everywhere, it’s almost like i have you with me again. I miss you so much. I miss your smile, your laugh, your voice. You asked in your previous letter if i would forget you, and no, i will never forget you. I love you so much, and there is nothing in this world that could ever make me forget that.
Love,
Your Papa”
Mary finished by folding the letter and putting it down.
Peter had been sitting still all the way through, soaking in every word.
”Read again?” he asked in a small voice and Mary knew she couldn’t deny him, so she opened the letter and read again.
January 1945
It had now been a little over three years since Peter had last seen his father. He still tried too write every second week but after he started fighting alongside Captain America as a part of the Howling Commandos it was getting harder to send the letters.
Peter thought it was so cool that Steve now was the Captain America that was on all the posters. He hadn’t seen Steve since he became Captain America but he was so excited to when the war was over.
His father had said a few weeks ago that he would probably be back soon, that he thought the war would be over anytime now. Peter really hoped he was right.
Peter was now 6 and a half and had learned to read and write on his own by now. He had all the his fathers letters saved in a wooden chest, all from the first ones back in 1941. He didn’t remember the first time he read them but is still gets this fuzzy feeling in him knowing that his father had not forgotten him.
He had gotten a letter from Bucky the day before, his father had told him about fighting Hydra and how much he missed him and all that. Even Steve had written a little paragraph too him.
Peter sat down on the floor, pen and paper in hand, getting ready to start writing back when a soft knock interrupted him. He looked up to see his mother standing in the doorway, eyes red from crying.
”What is it?” he asked concerned as he started getting up. His mother put a hand on his shoulder and guided him to sit down on his bed.
”Peter,” she started, ”I just got a letter from the military.” Peter perked up.
”Did papa write again?” he asked excitedly.
Mary looked at him with sad eyes.
”Peter, your father is dead.”
It took a few seconds before Peter understood what she had said. Then tears started forming in his eyes, and before he realized what had happened he was in Mary’s arms, holding on for dear life as he cried harder than he ever had. Mary ran her hands through his hair as she held him, letting him get it all out.