Part II: Real Man, Always Thinking With My Fists

Where My Feet Touch My Shadow

He offers little to the conversation as they discuss what happened to the Triskelion, the helicarriers, and to SHIELD. What can he say without giving his own privileged vantage point away? But he's very interested to hear what they think of him, what people think of him. The news has a lot of opinions that he doesn't quite follow, lacking the background knowledge to piece it together. But this... this is easier to understand.

As far as he can tell, people never trusted SHIELD. It was a shadow organization that few knew about, and relief is more common than distress at it being dismantled. The government officials are shocked and dismayed to find that there was an old WWII cult (is that what they call it now?) undermining the whole thing. But the regular folks are suspicious that those same officials were in on it – several prominent people have been arrested for conspiracy and espionage.

The secrets that were dumped onto the internet are vast and few have actually looked into them. Of the men he is drinking with, only one has read any of the entries, and didn't get very far. The news, both on television and online, helpfully points out some of the more noteworthy things that were leaked. But the CIA and the FBI have been trying to plug the leak, leading to more suspicion from regular people. They haven't been completely successful, but it's at least harder to find the information now.

Captain America has been subpoenaed, as has the Black Widow. Many of SHIELD's agents have disappeared or gone into other lines of work. Holding Avengers accountable to the government is a new thing, and the people were generally surprised that Black Widow agreed to meet with them. She is mysterious and not much trusted – unlike Steve.

But all of that holds little interest for these men at a bar in DC. What does interest them is the carnage and what caused it. There were few civilian casualties and the lives lost belonged to SHIELD agents – potentially HYDRA agents, but it's hard to tell when they're dead. Conspiracy theorists suggest that the organization imploded in there, and that HYDRA is just an excuse. Details are hazy concerning what actually went on in the Triskelion that day, but the Winter Soldier was clearly involved.

Nick Fury was gunned down in the streets – though there are surprisingly few witnesses. It's said that cops were chasing him. So some think he was being arrested and resisted, having turned against the country's interests, while others think the cops were just a front for enemy agents. And some think it was just the police overreacting to a fatal degree.

But the cops were not the ones who killed him – it was a masked figure of whom there is little footage. Enough, though. Enough to make it seem that this was a professional hit, according to some people. A figure who looked quite similar was seen attacking Captain America and the Black Widow, some of which was live on the news. He was seen again on the footage from the Triskelion.

So people know he was involved. The feds are looking for him, putting him on their most wanted list. He's called the Winter Soldier on the news, and a few grainy photographs is all they have to go on. If they have more information about him, they haven't released anything. He wonders how badly they really want him if they're not willing to share more. Certainly the SHIELD files that were released would include some HYDRA files, which would reference at least a few of his missions. Maybe Steve is... is suppressing some of that somehow.

He's disappointed when the conversation turns to other topics, but he enjoys the company. It's been a long time – a very long time – since he's done something like this.

"Well, the missus is waiting. I'll see you boys tomorrow," John says after a while as he starts to get up. "Anybody want to share a cab?"

"Sure," he says, mainly to avoid the awkwardness of figuring out when he should leave. Frank decides to leave then, too, and the three of them wait outside for a taxi.

"So, we are headed north. You?"

He clears his throat, suddenly afraid of telling the truth. "West. We can, uh, head your way first – I'm a little far."

If he could duck out of this without attracting unwanted attention, he would. But they get in the taxi and he sits in the back with John while Frank sits in the front. He doesn't like the idea of the driver or either of them having any idea where he lives, even if he won't be there more than a day or two.

"So, any job prospects?" John asks conversationally.

"Um, no. It's, uh, a little difficult," he answers slowly.

John nods. "Well, you seem to know what you're doing out there. Our crew got hired on to do some of the reconstruction. I can see if the boss is interested."

He smiles, relief flooding him. "That would be great."

It's a pleasant walk to his place from where he had the cab drop him off. Money's low after tonight's excursions, but he feels pretty good nonetheless. He might have a job soon, and seems to be fitting in well enough with the crew. It's so nice to consider doing something for himself for once. Maybe he'll get a real apartment after a while, and set up a life here.

Or maybe... Maybe he should find Steve. He's remembered a lot. Not everything, he's sure, but enough to be able to talk to his former best friend. So that is an option. The thought fills him with dread, though. What will... what will Steve think of him? What will the Avengers think of him? Steve was willing to throw his life away on a gamble that he'd remember him. But that's Steve – he's always jumping on grenades without thinking things through.

So that should wait. Until he was more sure of himself. Steve would accept any weight, any burden, that might help a friend. No matter how it would affect him, how many burdens he was already carrying. So, yeah, he should definitely wait. Until he could be reasonably sure that he wouldn't wake up screaming every night.

It's not every night. And it's not always screaming. But he is often awakened by his dreams and cannot sleep again for a few hours. He spends them writing down what he's remembering, no matter how painful the memories are. After going out drinking, he dreams about being a Howling Commando, about being part of a team. It was nice back then.

In the morning, he goes to work, and John tells him he's welcome to join the crew. So his days change a little from the familiar shape they were starting to form. He goes to work early, getting coffee and breakfast burrito with the guys, breaking for lunch – when he goes to the museum briefly – then working until dinner. Sometimes they go out for drinks or a meal together, sometimes he's on his own. But he gets paid in cash every day, so he has a lot more freedom to do what he wants.

After a month, he no longer goes to the museum. There's nothing new to gain from it, and it's uncomfortable to see his old face every day. That's not who he is anymore. A part of him wants to just hide here, to become this construction worker full-time, to get an apartment and set up his life. But that wouldn't be fair to Steve. So he decides it's time to move on.

He tells John that he's going to go home, to Brooklyn. His voice doesn't shake when he says it, and he doesn't fidget with his left hand. He's calm, collected. John tells him how to look up his cousin, the one who lives there and can probably offer him a job. He says goodbye to the guys and won't look back. He wants to find out who he is. And then... then he'll go see Steve.

After packing up his meager belongings, he starts walking out of the city. He finds a railyard and waits for a while, watching the trains. The memory of how he died came back early, and he is uncomfortable with the idea of getting on another train. But this one won't go into the cold mountains, and he won't get shot at. He won't fall and fall and –

It will be fine. He will just sleep on a car and it will take him home. Home to Brooklyn. Where he hasn't been since before he went to war. Where he's been trying to get back to for over seventy years. And now he's finally going to do it. To go home.

He picks a train heading north and walks along it until he finds a car that isn't shut all the way. Pulling open the door, he hops inside and closes it behind him. Now... to wait.