Secretive - Bucky Barnes

3 || Steve's Shield

You need to come back.

Everything around me is white. Plain white. It is not even freaking me out, not on a low level, certainly not on a high. Nothing around me, nothing inside me. No shell of me, no core of me, no thoughts. Just white.

They need you, Sargeant Barnes.

Disturbance. It is a faint chime in the background, nothing more but a breeze's whistle in my ears. Or rather, what should have been my ears. And it disturbs the calmness, the peace of this. Whatever it is, I want to stay. No more bad thoughts, no more depressing memories, no self-doubt, no cares. No love, no sympathism, no good emotions, either. But therefore, no bad ones. I feel as light as I have never. 

It's been five years, c'mon. Steve Rogers needs your help.

Who is Steve Rogers? What is Steve Rogers?

A rough yank on the white wall, crumpling it, pulling it down.

Cut.

I inhale deeply, my entire body collapsing, spasming. It only lasts a second, then I am on both feet walking straight, eyes blinking in utter confusion. What just happened? 

Before I have time to collect myself, I register the gun back in my hands the second the army of ours is standing straight, ready for the attack. Soon enough, the many, many signs of war surround me another time in my life; it is just then that I realize the oddly earth; greyish, and definitely not brown like I am used to, but rather an undefinable color. The air is heavy to breath in, threatening to poison my lungs, thinned from all the ashes right in our front and the smoke from numerous fires, pistols and whatsoever. Clouds leaving no sign of the sun, earth seems to have turned into hell. Too much stimulation at once for my senses to fully cope with.

And right in our front, one single man in a suit I know better than the back of my hand for all the knitting I did in the first war we spent together. Steve. Never knowing when to stop a fight, and always being right about it.

The creatures a few hundred feet in our front seem not as nicely, and I prepare myself for a battle with wounds, heavy injuries. Where I stopped is where I continue, I guess. They are numerous. I do not know what they can do; but with glancing left and right, I see we are just as many people. People I know, people I wish not to see hurt, just as Shuri, King T'Challa, Steve himself – although he already is hurt and seems kind of worse than after our first shared enemy-battle. 

One more time, my glance wanders up and down the rows. Close, far, I check out everything for her in the brief seconds that I have. A gulp in my throat, which I probably should not have questioned, but do anyways – how could I forget about her? Even in a space in which I was non-existing? 

No time to think about that, Barnes. Better be happy you don't see her around, meaning she cannot get hurt, although she would probably win this fight without much more than scratches.

The battle really is nasty. Thrown heads, limbs, puddles of blood that will not make the soil ask for any liquor within the next three years – whatever this ground is we stand on, wherever, it will not have any fertility left once we are finished. I do not know how many people, or rather, aliens go down bending to my gun and my fists, and even less do I know why that raccoon-thing asks for my arm. Seriously, where did I end up? If someone asked me when I was twenty whether I would ever fight in a multi-worldly war a hundred years in the future, I would have brought him to the next doctor, declaring him for going mad. And now, I am standing here, careful not to step onto some dead body and soak my shoes in purple blood.

Long story short: we win. We have losses, huge losses, but we manage to save half the universe, a couple of us with the cost of their lives. Natasha, for example, gave hers early. She did not even attend the battle, although I am sure she would have kicked numerous asses. And although she has really been annoying at times, difficult to deal with for me, I will miss her. Same goes for Tony; he has been arrogant, sarcastic, but still: he got me a flat, helped me firstly getting things to go with Nova although I evidently killed his parents. No matter how hard his shell and broken his psyche, that guy had a good heart, and I am very happy for him to leave a legacy behind he will forever be remembered by, because his name is one going down in history and not to forget.