A/N: In honour of this book reaching 40K reads, I decided to rewrite my first chapter (mainly because I can't stand reading my old writing). I hope you like it!

Bucky sighed as he looked at the girl standing before him; not because he was utterly in love with her, but because he wasn't. Tonight was his last night in Brooklyn before being shipped out to England for the war, and he only wanted to spend it with one girl. However, that one girl was too good for Bucky. He didn't deserve her, a girl as perfect as (Y/N). She mightn't have thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world, but Bucky did. She didn't think she was perfect, but Bucky did. She deserved the best man in the world, but as much as Bucky wanted it to be him, he thought he stood no chance with his best friend, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

"Steve," you smiled, straightening out your best friend's shirt, "You look great tonight. Whoever Bucky's set you up with sure is gonna be impressed." The mention of your pal, your buddy, your Bucky was enough to send an unwanted storm of butterflies raging in your stomach.

"Thank you, (Y/N)," Steve grinned, but when he saw your smile falter, he couldn't help but do the same.

"Listen, (Y/N)," Steve looked up at you, "Whatever girl Bucky's taking on a date tonight isn't the girl he wants to be with. What's important is that the two of you are meant for each other. I've seen the way he looks at you when you're not paying attention."

You managed a small grin, but thought that Steve was only trying to cheer you up, "Face it, Steve. He doesn't feel the same way about me."

"(Y/N-"

"If he loved me, he wouldn't be taking Connie dancing tonight. He'd be taking me," you interrupted, your voice breaking mid-sentence as tears welled in your eyes, threatening to spill at any moment, "He wouldn't be spending his last night with someone he didn't want to be with. Bucky's not that stupid."

"Well," Steve disagreed.

"What?" You asked monotonously.

"We are talking about the same Bucky, right?"

"Of course we are."

"Well then, you and I both know Bucky can be a jerk. You know he isn't good at picking girlfriends. Either he breaks up with them because he realises they're nothing like you, or they end up cheating on him, or dumping him 'cause they think there's something wrong with him."

"Wel-"

This time it was Steve's turn to interrupt, "What's wrong with him is that every girl he has dated before isn't you."

"There's no way that someone as great as Bucky would be in love with me."

"Look at you!" Steve protested, "You're beautiful! You are the kindest, funniest girl I know, and there's no doubt that when Bucky looks at you, he can't help but fall deeper in love with you. Any guy would be lucky to have you, especially Bucky."

"Steve," you blushed at the thought of Bucky being as hopelessly in love with you as you were with him.

"Oh my," Steve panicked as his gaze moved to the clock beside him, "I'm late."

"Go!" You laughed, shoving Steve out onto his front porch, "I'll lock the door."

"Thank you, (Y/N). You're the best friend anyone could have, you know that, right?" Steve watched as you kicked the rock adjacent to his front door and revealed the secret key, "This definitely isn't me sucking up so I can be best man when you and Bucky get hitched."

"Go!" You urged again, pushing Steve's back as he turned in the opposite direction and quickly made his way to his car, "You're a punk, Rogers! You're a punk!"

"I know!" Steve called back before closing the door of his car and swiftly backing out of the driveway.

You sighed, a smile curling your lips as you locked Steve's front door, "How'd I get stuck with these two?"

A few hours later, you laid sprawled on your bed as you flipped through an old photo album, various memories flooding back to you as soon as you laid your eyes on the images. Of course, most, if not all, of the images consisted of you, Steve and Bucky when you were younger, doing all sorts of crazy things that children did. You flipped another page and found your favourite photo— your first sleepover with Steve and Bucky. Steve was lying over your back, his legs perched on Bucky's, giant smiles plastered on each of your faces. You remember that day like it was yesterday; the uncomfortable way the three of you had to sleep in your bed (Bucky had reluctantly agreed to sleep in the middle, Steve's feet and yours beside his head), the pillow fight you had (which somehow ended up with Steve having a bloody nose), and the scary stories you told (which your parents never found out about thankfully, or Bucky would have never be allowed to come back to your house after reciting the story that led to your phobia of being alone in the dark).

They were the best friends you ever had, but life was so much more complicated now. The war had taken many men away from their friends and families, and you dreaded the fact that Bucky had to leave too. You couldn't bare the thought that was niggling in the back of your mind; the thought that Bucky might never come back.

You abruptly closed the album, pushing it onto the floor as a tear slipped down your cheek. Within moments, that tear had multiplied into an ocean that welled in your eyes. Quietly sobbing, you pulled your comforter over your body and laid there in the warmth.

"(Y/N)?" A deep, familiar voice entered your room, "Your mom said you were in here."

You stopped crying and buried your face into your bed sheets. The owner of the voice took a seat beside you, slowly pulling the comforter off you.

"What are you doin' there, doll?"

You rolled over onto your back before sitting upright. You looked at Bucky, your red eyes and tear-stained cheeks speaking volumes.

When Bucky saw the way you looked at him, he knew that your current state had something to do with him leaving. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. For a few moments, you both just took in each other's company for what might be the last time. When Bucky let you go, you looked up at him and saw a smile tugging at his lips.

"Is this what I think it is?" Bucky grinned as he bent over to pick up the photo album from the floor.

You chuckled half-heartedly, "Yeah."

Bucky began to flip through the pages of the album, smiling dejectedly at each photo that prompted memories of your childhood to resurface, "I miss the good old days."

"Me too," you agreed.

"What!? Is that from our first sleepover?" Bucky grinned, peering at your favourite image, "Wow, I remember that like it was yesterday."

"Remember that story you told us? For a seven year old, that was pretty damn scary."

"Yeah, and then I made Steve pee his pants?" Bucky began to laugh.

"After you told us that story, you hid in the dark and scared the living daylights out of us. Especially Steve!" You also began to laugh, clutching your stomach in hysterics.

Bucky finally stopped when he began to run out of breath, and sucked in some more air, as did you.

"I don't think I've laughed like that in years," Bucky grinned, looking deep into your eyes.

You smiled as you glanced at Bucky as he continued to flip through pages of photos enthusiastically. You hadn't seen him this happy in a long time. When you had finished looking through all the photos, Bucky closed the book and placed it on your shelf, his contagious smile quickly fading when he saw your happy expression being replaced by tears.

"No, don't cry," he said softly as he stroked your hair, calming your racing heart.

"Why do you have to go?" You sniffed as you felt a warm tear slip down your cheek.

He wrapped his arms around you in what was another warm, comforting embrace, "Because the country needs me, doll."

You pulled back and Bucky pressed his thumb to your cheek, wiping away a tear.

"W-what if you don't come back?"

For a moment, you could see the horror flash in Bucky's eyes as he thought of the possibility of his demise, before tears welled in his own eyes and began to roll down his cheeks. He closed his eyes. He couldn't look at you while he was thinking about losing you.

"Promise me something," he started, his lip quivering as his usually bright eyes seemed to lose their colour, "Promise that you'll never forget me."

You placed your hand under his chin and lifted his head so that your gazes met. The edges of your lips began to curl ever so slightly, "I could never forget you," you smiled sadly, "I'm with you till' the end of the line, I promise." That was something he would always say to you, and it meant so much.

Bucky let out a deep breath, and chuckled as he wiped his eyes, "God, I hope I don't mess this up."

"What?" You asked, completely oblivious as to what Bucky wanted to do.

"Just in case I never see you again, there's something I need to tell you."

For a moment, you thought you saw Bucky bite his bottom lip and look down at your lips. He sucked in a shaky breath before running a nervous hand through his hair.

"I-"

Suddenly, your mom appeared at the entrance to your room. Bucky turned his head swiftly to look at the person at the door, who was clearly there for him.

"I thought you'd be here," Bucky's mom forced a smile before it faded into a frown as she thought of all the moments you and her son had spent together in this room... That sleepover all those years ago, and many after, "You need to come home, James."

"Mom, I-"

Bucky's mom interrupted him, "The whole family is waiting for you at home, even your dad's parents showed up to say goodbye."

Bucky took a deep breath before standing up and you quickly mirrored his movements.

Bucky hesitated, "Alright."

When your parents left the room, the moment was gone.

"I'm so sorry," Bucky couldn't look at you, he felt miserable.

"It's not your fault," you reassured, walking side by side towards your front door, where Bucky's mom was waiting for him.

"This isn't goodbye," he said, wrapping you in a tight hug.

"I know," you smiled into his shirt as he pulled you closer. He held you so close that it felt as if he was afraid to let you go.

"I'll see you when I get back, ma'am," Bucky gave you a mock salute, causing you to roll your eyes as a smile lit up your previously upset features.

You simpered, "You better, Sergeant Barnes."

With that, Bucky and his mom got into their car and drove off back home, but not without waving a sad goodbye.

When they were halfway home, Bucky's mom turned to look at him, another sad smile tugging at the edges of her lips, "Did my eyes deceive me, or were you crying?"

"Of course I was," Bucky sucked in another sharp breath, "I love her. I always have."

*****

I want to punch myself for making myself cry while writing this. And yes, there will definitely be a part two. This is definitely a lot longer than the original version. Please comment what you thought and if you think I've improved since I wrote the original.