S E V E N

07. | mourning bucky.
maybe there is a silver lining in all this

steve.

•

EVERYTHING JUST seemed to collapse. I reached out my hand, hoping to get his back in return, but the rail snapped and he fell. It's all my fault. If I moved faster, he would've been here now. Bucky's dead. Because of me.

I don't know what to do anymore. Not a word came out of my mouth or Gen's the whole way back. Gen was still traumatized from almost plummeting to her death, which makes sense, and witnessing Bucky fall made it even worse. All that piled on top of the cold made her shake the whole way back, her face entirely drained of color except for her pink nose from the snow.

We've both shut ourselves out from everyone, not letting anyone try to comfort us. She thinks it's her fault, but it's not. It's all on me. But like she'll listen. She just shakes her head, clenching her jaw every time that I insist to her that she didn't do it.

I hear shards of glass crush underneath combat boots in the ruins of a bar, undoubtedly Gen's. I can barely hear her over the ringing in my ears and the radio humming the circumstances of London. The Nazis are hitting us harder than ever, and no one is taking it too well. Although we've had a win with capturing Dr. Zola, we can't keep our head in the clouds long enough to escape the chaos happening.

The steps footsteps come to a halt, and I turn around to see Gen, her dark silhouette hiding her red and puffy eyes. I can make out her uniform underneath a tan trench coat. I wear my own uniform, the badges and pins acting like an insult. Bucky had a lot of them too. I sniff, turning away from her to wipe away my tears.

"Dr. Erskine said that the serum wouldn't just affect my muscles, that it would affect my cells," I remind Gen, pouring myself another glass of scotch, "and create a protective system of regeneration and healing."

Gen takes a step closer to me, and I can see her hands trembling as they hold something tightly. She lets out a shaky breath, closing her eyes as if to block everything out.

"Which means, uh." I stop on my words for a moment, setting down the bottle of scotch. My eyes avoid her sad ones, completely unlike the last time we were here at this bar where this all started, where I pretty much recruited the Howling Commandos. "I can't get drunk."

I stare down at my lonely little round table in the center of the bar, one table with one chair in a pile of rubble that used to be such a happy and boisterous place. "Did you know that?" I ask her.

She inhales a sharp breath, glancing at a chair underneath the counter and pulling it to my table. "Your metabolism burns four times faster than the average person," she mumbles, taking a seat next to me. Her voice is small and weak too. "He told me that he thought it might be one of the side effects." She takes another breath, trying to conceal her quavering voice. "So I'm guessing that brandy won't help."

I glance up at her as she gently sets a bottle of the alcohol on the table, staring down into her lap. Her soft skin is so pale, so much lighter than I remember.

"And before you offer, it is a gift," Gen says to me. "Besides, I had a glass or three of whiskey before I got here."

I bite my lip. "It wasn't your fault," I tell her softly.

"And it wasn't yours either," she adds. "Y-Yes, he's gone, but sulking around isn't going to change anything."

"I'm guessing you know from experience?" I ask her. After Howard told me what happened to her family a few years ago, I can't help but think about what it did to her. Maybe she can help me cope now since she's done it before. Bucky was like my brother and she had a sister, so maybe she can give me some advice.

"Yes, and I did the same exact thing as you are," she says. She can tell that I know. "She was everything to me, and I watched her die. But it wasn't my fault and I've finally come to terms with that by asking myself a few questions.

"Did you believe in Bucky?" she asks me softly. "Did you respect him?"

I nod slowly, finding her green eyes in the dark. They are so sad and pained, but her cracking voice is so strict and meaningful.

"Then stop blaming yourself," she says. "Allow Bucky the dignity of his choice. He damn well must've thought that you were worth it." She silences for a second, taking a moment to ponder about what she just said.

"I'm going after Schmidt," I state. "I'm not gonna stop until all of HYDRA's dead or captured." They almost killed you too.

"You won't be alone," Gen mumbles.

I look up into her green eyes. She gives me a small smile, making her sad orbs twinkle, igniting a spark of happiness and hope again.

"But they almost killed you," I say aloud this time.

Gen's hand gently finds my forearm, forcing me to look back up at her. Her soft touch sends a wave of comfort through me, like I'm not alone in all this. "I'm not leaving you," she coos. "And I'm not letting you go out there without me."

I almost knock down the bottle of brandy as my arms quickly wrap around her small figure, avoiding her injured arm that was scratched on the falling rail from the train. She returns the embrace, holding me in her arms. I just want to sob into her shoulder, but I don't have any tears left. I take in her subtle and sweet perfume, allowing myself to relax my muscles as her hands run through my hair comfortingly.

I smile against her trench coat. "I'm not gonna leave you either."

[•]

The entire compound is filled with men (and Gen and Peggy) who all talk about what Colonel Phillips managed to get out of Dr. Zola. In the meantime, I scan through papers that Gen peers over my shoulder to look at. Her hand is comfortingly placed on my shoulder from the left side of the table. I glance up at her every once and a while to see if she's okay, but she just leans towards me from her chair, halfway ignoring everything everyone is saying.

"Johann Schmidt thinks he's a god, and he's willing to blow up the world to prove it starting with the USA." Colonel booms, pointing to our country on the large map behind him.

"Schmidt's working with powers beyond our capabilities," Howard adds, taking a seat on my right. "He gets across the Atlantic, he will wipe out the entire Eastern Seaboard in an hour."

I toss the paper on to the table after I finish skimming over it, knowing that Gen finished long before me.

"How much time we got?" Jones asks from beside Frenchie.

"According to my new best friend, under twenty four hours," Colonel replies, flipping through some papers that he holds in his hands.

Gen rolls her eyes, trying to contain a groan. "Fantastic," she mutters.

"Where is he now?" Frenchie inquires this time in his thick accent.

"Hydra's last base is here," Colonel says, pointing to a photo of snowy mountains, "in the Alps. It's five hundred feet below the surface." He tosses the photo to Morita, who asks yet another question.

"So what are we supposed to do?" he questions.  "I mean, it's not like we can just knock on their front door."

"Why not?" Gen and I ask in unison. We both exchange looks, and she gives me a grin.

All heads turn to face us, some having straight faces while others have shocked wide eyes.

"That's exactly what we're gonna do," I add to our statement.

Morita blinks. "I knew you were off your rocker" — he points to Gen — "but you too, Cap?"

Gen smirks. "I'm not a mad scientist and he's not a reckless man for nothing, kid. Now let's get moving. We do only have a day until the US is blown to smithereens." She steps up from the table, pushing her chair in and heading towards the door.

Peggy smiles, standing from her chair as well to follow her friend.

At not hearing anyone else besides Peggy and herself getting up, Gen turns around with a raised eyebrow. "You coming, boys?"

Everyone else stands instantly, following her out the door. I fight back a chuckle at her satisfied grin. We all go to pack our bags and gather up weapons. I stop at my small area in the compound, snatching up my Captain America uniform and a handgun. I hear someone leaning against the doorframe, their boots clicking as they comfortably position themselves. I don't even have to look to see who it is.

"Yes, Gen?" I ask her, a small smile creeping across my lips.

"Oh nothing, just wanted to see if you were ready," she smirks, crossing her arms across her uniform. "I've already had my stuff packed since we came home. I'm guessing you didn't."

"Well, by the looks of it I don't think so," I say sarcastically.

Gen giggles, shaking her head at me. "You know, I'm beginning to think that you can't live without someone watching over and taking care of your ass."

I look up to see her holding my trusty shield, the white star reflecting in her green eyes.

"I was going to get that," I insist, closing up my bag of stuff.

"Really? You sure?" she asks me cockily. She tosses my shield to me, and it almost smacks me in my nose.

I shake my head, laughing softly. I gently set the shield on top of my bag, taking a few steps towards her. "Fine, you win."

She continues to smirk. "I know I do."

My chest is only a few inches from hers as we both slowly move closer to each other. We both absentmindedly gaze into each other's eyes, not daring to look away. My hand moves to her hair, brushing a brunette lock of it behind her ear. My fingers graze her soft skin. She has her own hand on the side of my arm, bringing me closer to her.

"M-M-May I—?" Before I can ask her permission to, she presses her lips tenderly on mine. Unlike Lorraine's, they aren't controlled by lust; they softly brush against mine before she fully collides with me — she's sweet and hesitant. My hands rake through her hair, and hers cup my face. We move in perfect sync with each other, not missing a beat. I set my palm on her waist and she grips my shoulder.

It seems like minutes, maybe even hours of pure bliss. Although it was only for a few seconds, it sure felt long and passionate. It would've lasted longer if there wasn't someone who intruded, shouting out a triumphant, "Yes!"

Gen and I quickly pull away from each other, both whipping our heads to eye Peggy, who dances around happily.

"I knew it! I knew it! Oh, yes!" Peggy exclaims joyfully. She realizes that she's stopped us, and pauses her little jig. "Oh, my apologies. Please go on." And before she can be chased by Gen, she's bolted out of the room.

Gen is fuming, her hands balled into fists by her sides as she mutters about her friend snooping in on us.

I stand there in awe for a moment, staring at her. She just kissed me. Genevieve just kissed me. It's a goddamn miracle.

"All right, well, finish packing while I go kill her real quick," Gen smiles, her cheeks tinted pink. She zooms out of the room, searching for Peggy before she can go tell everyone that there's a little fling.

All I know is that I'm beaming. My day has just been made, and just in time for the mission.