In Your Eyes // Steve Rogers

54

I fell onto a building. Or, at least, that's what it used to be. I was dropped into a town that had been blown to bits. Every building was damaged, caved in. The entire town was deserted.

Frustrated, I screamed. I threw my helmet into the distance. I tore off the jacket and kicked off the boots. I punched a concrete wall. That was enough to bring me to my senses again.

"Damn it," I sniffled, cradling my bloody knuckles to my chest. "Damn it to hell."

Some part of me, after a little time to breathe, was relieved I was ripped away from that moment in time.

Sitting in the darkness of the empty town forced me to think about Steve, special moments I shared with him. My first and only thought was Paris.

"...there was this woman, back in the forties, who popped up a few times when I was being subjected to the serum. She never showed her face, all I ever heard was her voice..."

Suddenly, I found myself hard of breathing. I was the woman. Why I was sent back to the forties, I had no clue, and, clearly, Steve didn't either, but some version of me had been there before.

It would come to make sense, I figured. Until then, I walked a blind path through the future, with only a couple sentences as a guideline.

"Don't show my face, only use my voice, tell him I..."

In the distance of the town, a candlelight flickered within a building.

I walked towards it to investigate, hoping it was someone who could tell me where I was. More importantly, I needed to know when I was.

It was him. I could tell instantly from his shoulders alone. He sat at the single upright table in the bar. A bottle of alcohol sat a short reach from him. His sniffling was evident.

I lingered in the broken doorway, debating. I was supposed to be finding the train incident and saving Bucky. I was there to be setting things right in the future for everyone. I knew all of that, very well, but the last thing I could bring myself to do was ignore the love of my life in a time of need.

I passed by his table and swept the bottle from his grasp. At the bar, I set a stool upright, then sat, ensuring my back was to him.

"You know," I said pointedly. To be safe, I used an American accent. "It's not possible for you to get drunk."

"H-How did you find this place? Who are you?"

"Just a girl in desperate need of a drink..."

"Ma'am, how did you know I can't get drunk?" he asked timidly.

"I work in the..." I paused, racking my brain for what my old job used to be called. "The, uh, S.S.R. I worked on Project Rebirth."

"You saw me get..."

"Changed? No. I wish. I heard the transformation was astounding."

"Right."

Steve and I reverted back to silence. My nails tapped along the bottle of liquor. I watched the liquid swish from side to side of the bottle.

Never before had he mentioned specifics in his war days. Even with my history knowledge surrounding Captain and the Commando's, I knew not where they were or where in his timeline they resided. All I knew was that Steve was in a situation of despair.

Then, like a pile of bricks, it hit me.

"This is where you lost him," I murmured.

Steve cleared his throat. "What was that?"

"You lost somebody," I said louder.

"That obvious, huh?" he chuckled hopelessly.

I managed to keep myself together long enough to whisper, "We're in the middle of a war, it's not uncommon to see a soldier crying."

I missed the chance to make everything in the future all right. If the force dragging me through time purposely threw me past Bucky's death, what other chances were left to change history?

I drowned the remaining whisky. Hastily, I said, "Your friend didn't go peacefully, I take it."

"Understatement," scoffed Steve. "How much do you know about Germany's science division?"

"Hydra."

"Captain America and the Howling Commandos," said Steve in a mocking tone. "That's what we're called. We took down dozens of Hydra bases, we were making an impact in the war. Then, we got word that the head of the division was on a train to meet Schmidt. We intercepted it. I wasn't attentive enough. Bu... My, uh, friend took a hit for me, blew him out of the train. Couldn't reach him in time."

"I can tell you right now blaming yourself isn't the answer," I said, for i felt myself doing the same exact thing.

"How can I not?" scoffed Steve.

"Bucky made the decision to save you over himself. He would do it a thousand times, you can't deny that, Steve. You can't blame him for that," I said. "I can tell you that it does get easier to live with."

Steve was eerily quiet for a few beats. "I never told you his name."

It was then I was ripped away. A portal, not of my own creation, swallowed me, sending me to another point in time where absolutely nothing would make sense.