Not A Weapon

Chapter Two- Fireworks

"What happened to him?" I asked, my voice just above a whisper. 

"HYDRA" Was Steve's only reply.

"What did they do?" I prompted. 

"After he... After he fell off the train on our final mission, after I thought he died, HYDRA agents must have found him. They brainwashed him, they tortured him, they made him into a weapon, not questioning orders, just carrying them through.

"They kept him in cryofreeze when he wasn't on a mission, and woke him up every once in a while for missions that were too difficult or too important for their regular agents. They made him into a ghost story. They made him into The Winter Soldier" He hadn't looked at me while explaining this, keeping his gaze on my small coffee table.

I could feel his pain. He was blaming himself for this. "Steve, you can't bla-" 

"I can" He cut me off, running his hands through his hair. "I can. He protected me all my life, and the one time it was possible for me to save him, I didn't!" He looked at me. "I could've though. I should've. I should've done something!" I could see his eyes brimming with tears.

"You didn't choose not to, Steve. You didn't want to let him fall. There was nothing you could've done" I said calmly. He looked back down. 

"But I should've looked for him after, I should've radioed the team, told them where he fell and told them to search for his body." 

"Steve. Look at me" I commanded him.

He looked at me hesitantly. A single tear dropped and rolled down his right cheek. I couldn't believe my eyes. "There are a million and more reasons that you couldn't save him, that it wasn't your fault. But if you want to believe that it was your fault, you will find a way around each and every single one. That means for you to feel better, you have to believe that it really wasn't your fault. You understand?"

He nodded. I pointed towards the washroom and gave him a small smile. "Go, wash up. We're going out" I said. He got up and went into my guest washroom, while I went into the washroom in my bedroom. I washed my face and leaned on the counter, looking at my reflection. I sighed heavily. Seeing The Captain America like that had shaken me up. Bucky had obviously meant a lot to him.

I went into the living room and flopped, face-first, onto the couch, my hands laying by my sides awkwardly. I heard a door open and close and felt a presence near me. "Hey, Steve" I said, my voice muffled by the pillow that my face was currently squished in. 

"Hey" He replied simply.

I sighed again and got up. "We're going downtown, I think there are fireworks" I announced. He smiled. 

"Okay" 

"Let's go!" I shouted. "Fireworks, fireworks, fireworks!" I chanted, running through the house like a crazed little kid. He shook his head, a smile on his face.

"No more caffeine for you" He muttered. I saw his smile, and felt relieved. This is how Steve should always be. I didn't like seeing him like that, not one bit. I know it might've been unrealistic, and that Steve was a person too, but how would you feel if you saw one of the world's greatest heroes like that, on the verge of tears.