"Andi? Andi, wake up."
My eyes snapped open. Peggy stood over me. She looked upset.
"What's going on?" I murmured groggily, pushing myself to my elbows.
The last thing I remembered was working all night and day with the Howling Commandos from the command centre. The last I'd heard from them was when they'd boarded Arnim Zola's train. I was so tired that I slipped away to find something soft to sleep on. Fortunately, Stark slept in his workshop, so there was a bed in there I could steal.
"They're back," Peggy said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Was the mission successful?"
She looked troubled. Something was wrong. Very wrong. I could tell by the look in her eyes. They didn't reflect the steely glint it usually did. They looked glassy. It made my stomach churn nervously.
I placed a hand on Peggy's. It was shaking. "What is it? Tell me." I gripped it supportively. "Is Steve all right?"
She gazed at me. I'd seen that look many, many times. It was a look of mourning. Someone hadn't returned. I prayed with all my being that it wasn't Steve; for Peggy's sake. And for mine.
"Bucky..." she breathed. "There was an accident. Steve tried to save him..." She looked down at her hands. "He fell."
Coldness rushed over me, and my blood froze. I was numb all over. I felt hollow inside. My heart was struggling to beat. My hands shook.
Bucky...dead? But...that couldn't be.
"N-No," I stammered. I ripped my hand from Peggy's.
Then I realised. Steve.
"Where's Steve?" I stood abruptly. "Where is he?"
She took my arm and led me towards the map table. She pointed to a small town not far from here. "Dugan informed us that, after they'd returned, Steve disappeared in this area."
I took a mental image of the area and faced her. She looked distraught. She was equally as worried about Steve as I was.
"I'll find him, Peggy. Don't worry." I smiled reassuringly. "I'll bring him home."
I needed a ride, and what better place to find a fast one than Stark's workshop where Peggy and I conveniently stood in.
I noticed Steve's motorcycle in the corner. I smirked. I'd found my ride.
I wheeled it out of the workshop to the outside of the SSR. I started it up, revved it and took off.
It was a twenty minute ride to the little town that Steve was last seen at. A path of destruction led me to it; pot holes in the road and scorch marks scared the dirt. Ahead of me was a bombed out town.
I left the bike out of the front, and made my way inside.
The place was a mess. Every building was in ruins. Bricks and debris were scattered on the roads and pavements. Shattered glass was sprinkled like hail. Belongings were strewn all over the place: luggage, clothing, crockery, toys.
The town was a place of devastation; of an old life once cherished and loved reduced to rubble and smoke. It reminded me of the last time I saw Eilian. My heart ached at the memory of watching his galaxy—his home and life force—imploding, killing him.
The things that humans did to achieve victory. Such desolation. We didn't need to commit such acts for the pursuit of happiness, yet it happened every day, no matter what time I travelled to. I was used to seeing sights like this, but it wasn't until recently that I began to be in tune with the feelings of the victims. I had begun to realise what such destruction did to someone after centuries of blocking it out. And it was terrible. This was why humans were deadly. We come into this world violent and screaming, and we leave it equally so.
"Steve?" I called as I picked my way through debris. "Steve, where are you?"
I came across a bar, the side of it blown open. It was the only building that was standing with minimal damage.
I climbed through the hole. My boots crunched under broken glass. I heard the faint sound of a radio broadcast, and I warily walked towards it.
Steve sat at a table, surrounded by debris, a glass in his hand and a bottle before him. He turned to me, and then turned back to his glass.
"Dr. Erskine said that the serum wouldn't just affect my muscles, it would affect my cells. It would create a protective system of regeneration and healing." He poured himself another glass, and turned it around in his hand, inspecting the liquid swirling inside. "Which means I can't get drunk. Did you know that?"
I picked up a toppled chair and sat across from him. He wouldn't look at me. I'd never seen him look that way. He looked so defeated, like there was nothing left to fight for.
"I read that your metabolism burns four times faster than the average person," I replied. "Dr. Erskine thought it could be one of the side effects."
He didn't look like he took in any of that information. He just stared at his glass with a furrowed brow.
"It wasn't your fault," I tried.
"Did you read the report?"
"Yes."
"Then you know that's not true."
There was a moment of heavy silence between us. It made me feel uncomfortable. There was a huge elephant in the room that had to be addressed, but I wanted to do it in a way that I wasn't stepping on any toes. Well, in a way that I would but wouldn't break them.
I snaked my fingers around his glass and gently tugged it away from him. He let me, his fingers brushing against my own. "You did everything you could, Steve. Bucky wouldn't want you to be doing this."
"You don't understand, Andi," he said bitterly. "I've lost everyone in my life. I lost my dad in the first war. I lost my mom to tuberculosis only recently. And now I've lost my best friend. You can't possibly understand what I've been through."
My eyes flicked down. My watch felt heavy in my pocket, heating with my burdens. "I understand more than you know."
I reached for his hand. "You have to stop blaming yourself. Allow Bucky the dignity of his choice. He knew damn well that you were worth it. People still do." I looked away. "I do. And so does Peggy." I glanced back at him. "Months ago, I said that you were meant for more than just a lab rat or a dancing monkey. You've proven that time and time again. This is no different. You've just got another reason to fight on."
His blue eyes stared at me. They were sorrowful, yet I saw determination and rage behind them. I watched as he clenched his jaw. "I'm going after Schmidt. I'm not gonna stop until all of HYDRA is dead or captured."
I offered a supportive sideward smile. "You won't be alone."
The corners of his lips tugged upwards slightly. And we sat there for hours, mourning the loss and bravery of Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.
❈Author's Note: Hey, there! What did you think of Steve's heart to heart? What do you think about my philosophical mumbo-jumbo? Let me know below!
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