Devil of Menace

24 - Years

I wake up with a pounding headache as I make my way to the bathroom. I look like a ghost, the one hour of sleep doing very little for my complexion. I strip myself of my clothes, a frown permanently embedded on my features, and turn on the shower. The scolding water cascades down my back as I bury my face in the stream. Letting the water burn. I lazily wash my hair and body, rinsing the suds away carelessly. I remain stood under the stream for a few minutes longer until my fingers begin to wrinkle. Stepping out of the shower, I wrap myself in a fluffy, grey towel and find myself back at the mirror. My phone pings with a message from Tony and the date sears into my eyes. 'Wednesday, 18 September.' I sigh and squirt some toothpaste onto my toothbrush, beginning to brush my teeth. The moment my eyes catch those in the reflection hot tears spill down my cheeks, some running straight down my neck and others making their way into my mouth. I finish cleaning my teeth, rinse my toothbrush, and splash my face with cold water.

Padding back into my bedroom I pull open my wardrobe. I slip into a pair of tight black jeans, and a black off the shoulder shirt. I tie my hair up in a messy ponytail and make my way to the kitchen. Steve looks me up and down, "You okay?" He asks, concerned. I nod at him, a little dazed. "Mhm." I affirm. I head to the fridge and pour myself a glass of water. "You not eating today?" Steve queries. I shake my head, "Already cleaned my teeth. I'll have a big dinner it's fine." I answer before finishing my drink. I slip on a pair of black vans and grab my keys and bag. "Where are you going Vicky?" Steve calls. "Out." I reply, slamming the door shut. I walk and walk, my feet seemingly carrying me without registering where they're going. I find myself in Queens as the sun beats down on me.

I sit myself down on an all too familiar bench and cross my legs. An old woman sits next to me, "Are you okay honey? You look like you're having a bad day." She says softly. I bite my tongue as the urge to tell her to leave me alone rises, "Today's a hard day for me." I whisper. "May I ask why?" She presses. I sigh and look at her wrinkled features, a soft smile gracing them, "I lost my fiancée a long time ago." I twist the ring, "Today's our anniversary." I explain. She reaches out and squeezes my hand weakly, "I lost my husband a few years ago. It isn't going to get any easier honey but I'm sure if your fiancée could be here, he'd be the happiest man alive. I know my William would be." She reassures gently. "You remind me of one of my best friends." I say to her, causing her to look at me quizzically. "You friends with a lot of old people?" She jokes. I laugh, "Oh you'd be surprised." The pair of us sit in silence until we say our goodbyes so she can go and see her grandson. 

A few minutes later I'm joined by a familiar face. "Did you follow me?" I ask meekly. "Maybe." Steve answers. "Why didn't you tell me Vik?" He asks sadly. "Wasn't important." I answer bluntly. Steve pulls me into his shoulder, "Anything you feel is important. Always has been always will be." He murmurs. I sniffle, "71 years." I whisper. Steve looks at me, "What?" I sit up, "If he was here now. It'd be our 71st anniversary." I elaborate. Steve swallows thickly, "I know I don't understand what this is like for you because I haven't been conscious for these last 70 or so years. But I miss him too, so much. I'd do anything to have my best friend back." He explains, his voice cracking lightly. Tears fill my eyes, "I got his dog tags back you know." I say. "When I got back to America, I went to see Becca. I had to meet her at least once, seeing her family hurt at first." Steve nods, "Why?" He asks. "Bucky always wanted to marry me and have a big family. And I couldn't give him what she got, biological kids, a normal marriage. But he loved me anyway, it reminded me of everything I've lost." I explain.

"She gave me his tags when I left, yours too." I smile. "You had mine this all time and you never gave them to me?" He nudges me playfully. I laugh softly, "I keep them with me. They're in my bag." I reach into my bag and pull out the two pieces of metal. I hand Steve his tags and slip James' over my neck. "Thank you Steve." I say. "For what?" He asks.  "Everything. Being there, being a friend, more than a friend sometimes." I laugh. "He'd do the same thing for me." Steve answers. "He'd sleep with the love of your life after you'd been dead 70 years?!" I joke. Steve laughs wholeheartedly. "Maybe not, but he'd take care of her. Doing 'those things' is my way of taking care of you when you need it." He mumbles and I kiss his cheek before resting my head on his shoulder and watching the people of Queens bustle past.