Creative Writing: The Winter Soldier
He was alive. Steve remembered when that was his mantra during that first suicide mission to recover the 107th. Bucky was alive. As Steve lay in the hospital bed recovering from his injuries, that thought bounces around in his mind. Why hadn’t he looked for him? How could he have let his body rot in that ravine without at least looking for him? Why hadn’t he done something? He had been so sure that he would know when Bucky died, that he would feel it, yet all these years he had been alive and Steve hadn’t known. It didn’t matter that he had been under ice for a good portion, it should have never gotten to that point. How could he have left Bucky in that ravine? Steve didn’t know what he would have done if Sam wasn’t there. Sam never pressured
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He had been speaking for most of the trip, telling Steve everything he had done. Every assassination, every mission, every legend that made the Winter Soldier so feared. However, he wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore, and his voice shook as he described the men and women he killed, the things he did. He barely got through explaining the assassination of Howard Stark, because Bucky had known him, knew that he was a friend of Steve’s. That was nothing compared to him explaining chocking Maria to death. The pain in his voice made Steve want to tell him to stop, to make Bucky believe that it wasn’t him doing those things, but Steve knew what it was like to need to exorcise your demons. Peggy had listened to him so many times, taking some of the burden off of him by just listening. Now he had to be that for Bucky because there was nothing else he could do.
At the thought of Peggy, Steve felt another stab of pain. She had lived a long life, but he selfishly hadn’t wanted to let her go. He needed something to anchor him to who he was, to remind him of the Steve that was just a mutt on Brooklyn’s streets. If she was still alive, would he have fought so hard to keep Bucky with him? Would he have done all of this differently? Would she had helped him figure out what to do? Would he still have Tony at his back and his friends not in prison? Somehow, he doubted it, but she would have helped him not to make such a mess of
He had been speaking for most of the trip, telling Steve everything he had done. Every assassination, every mission, every legend that made the Winter Soldier so feared. However, he wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore, and his voice shook as he described the men and women he killed, the things he did. He barely got through explaining the assassination of Howard Stark, because Bucky had known him, knew that he was a friend of Steve’s. That was nothing compared to him explaining chocking Maria to death. The pain in his voice made Steve want to tell him to stop, to make Bucky believe that it wasn’t him doing those things, but Steve knew what it was like to need to exorcise your demons. Peggy had listened to him so many times, taking some of the burden off of him by just listening. Now he had to be that for Bucky because there was nothing else he could do.
At the thought of Peggy, Steve felt another stab of pain. She had lived a long life, but he selfishly hadn’t wanted to let her go. He needed something to anchor him to who he was, to remind him of the Steve that was just a mutt on Brooklyn’s streets. If she was still alive, would he have fought so hard to keep Bucky with him? Would he have done all of this differently? Would she had helped him figure out what to do? Would he still have Tony at his back and his friends not in prison? Somehow, he doubted it, but she would have helped him not to make such a mess of