newspaperinmyshoes

[newspaperinmyshoes]

when the storm ends - b.b. (1)

1941

The night before he went away, the golden sky sitting on the horizon held the false promise of youth, of love, of eternal renewal. However, James Buchanan Barnes was sure he knew his fate. To die with purpose for a cause he cared for. 

But what if his fate was her? And what if when the storm ends, although it is terrifying, it could be beautiful too.

Cornwall, England 1941

“I simply do not care what you say, Jane. I am bringing my best and only pair of nylons”, Charlotte protested as she carefully stirred the lemonade she was making with her sugar rations.

The sun was slowly setting through the kitchen window of the nurses’ home, marking the end of another day, another shift complete.

Jane raised her hands as if in surrender, examining her carefully pinned curls in the silver teapot. “Lottie, I am only stating the obvious fact that you are not going to be wearing your damn nylons on the front line. No matter how many dashing soldiers you attend to.”

Lottie sighed, pointing her wooden spoon at Jane accusingly. “Oh, don’t be such a fuddy-duddy Jane, dear.” Charlotte glanced around at you in defense, “Hey, can you side with me for once?”

You looked up bemusedly from the button you were attempting to sew back on to your uniform cape. Like clockwork, these arguments took place almost nightly in the nurses’ home. The fashionable Lottie and the logical Jane debating the necessities for wartime nursing.

“Lottie, I haven’t had a pair of nylons since my last pair laddered while dancing with Will Larkin. They are nowhere to be bought.”

Lottie made a face into the saucepan of sugar and lemons. “It looks like I won’t be winning this argument.” Jane hummed in content conclusion, diligently finishing her nursing notes. 

A comfortable silence of forgotten arguments lay between the three of you as the low mumble of the radio filled the gaps. Jane sighed loudly as she rose to her feet with her logbook of nursing notes. “Another day finished, another day closer  to being shipped off.”

Charlotte hummed in acknowledgment as she lifted the lemonade off the hob to cool. “When will we be called to the front line, though? That’s the question.”

Brooklyn, New York 1941

Bucky sat deep in thought on the concrete bench in the small park opposite his childhood home.

The bench had been there as long as he could remember. Much like everything on this street.

In 26 years, the tree lined street that he had grown up had not changed.

Thinking of it...it was probably the only constant factor in his life. Through High School, through his construction apprenticeship, through the many whirlwind relationships and chaste kisses on doorsteps. Through his military training. Through the death of his father.

The street remained unchanged despite passing time, with its rusting white fences, potholed sidewalk and reliable neighbours. Bucky knew every quiver of its beating heart.

Bucky also knew as soon as he walked through his front door, for the last time things would change. He would announce his departure, his mother and Becca would cry, he would leave and ponder the idea that he may not return.

The elm trees would continue to grow, the milkman would continue to come every morning at dawn break. But Bucky’s life would change forever.

Bucky didn’t know if he would ever return home again. So, for now, he would sit here and remember Poplar Street as it would remain.

#bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barns fanfiction #james buchanan bucky barnes #whenthestormends

[newspaperinmyshoes]

intro

Oh, the things that could happen if you, for once in your life, have nothing to do except write.