Rumors of War || The First Avenger

Chapter Twenty-One: Italy

Picture is Chris Evans as Steve Rogers aka Captain America in Captain America: The First Avenger.

Music is "The Very Thought Of You" by Nat King Cole.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: Italy
{November 1943}

My dress was bought, the venue was planned, the flowers had been selected though not purchased. Everything was ready for the wedding I'd been waiting a year for. Everything was here. Everything except the most important part: my husband-to-be. I suppose it's the wedding I'm destined to never have.

Over the past eight months, things haven't changed all that much. Steve and I still do our shows in various American cities, only flying overseas a handful of times. Rose has graduated high-school and is currently attending nursing school back in New York City. She's just about to finish there, seeing as they rush the girls through an intense and condensed curricula. After which she will be joining the Captain America and Lady Liberty clan as we journey across the Atlantic to the front lines. She will be our personal nurse.

Recently, Billy has made us aware that we're going to be heading closer to the action. Soldiers there need more support than anyone. We're starting this tour in Italy, just a dozen or so miles from the front lines. Though far more dangerous than our previous tours, it makes me a little excited to think that I'll be going into the country where Bucky is stationed. At least, he was, last time I checked. He still isn't allowed to tell me through letters where he's at for fear of the Nazis getting a hold of the mail somehow.

At this very moment, Steve and I are waiting in our London hotel room for the call to get on a plane to Italy. He's sitting in the armchair by the window, pencil and sketchpad firmly in hand. I sit on one of the twin beds, snuggled under the covers, twisting the knob on the radio on the nightstand. I finally settle on a news station, giving updates on the war. "The Germans have taken southern Italy," the British man's voice states in a monotonous tone. "The Allies are pushing back, but no one knows how much longer they'll be able to keep it up. Reports are coming in of soldiers being taken hostage in--"

"--You know that listenin' to that is just gonna upset you," Steve says, looking up from his sketchpad. 

I heave a heavy sigh, plunging the volume down to mute. "You're right. Per usual. I just... I keep praying I don't hear his name in the casualties. I keep having dreams--nightmares, really--that I heard his name on the radio or that I got that damned telegram." I cover my face in my hands, and I hear Steve get up from his chair.

"Scoot over," he whispers. I do as he says, moving over just enough so that he can lie down on his back beside me. His eyes look over to me as he wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. "Nothin' is gonna happen to Bucky, okay? Nothing at all. I promise."

I rest my head on his arm, eyes averting his. "You don't know that, Steve. He could be dead right now, and I wouldn't know for weeks. They could label him MIA, and I'd never know what happened to him." Tears sting my eyes. "I adore you and Rosie. You know that. But, Steve, Bucky is my everything. Without him..." I turn to bury my face into his T-shirt to hide my tearful eyes.

There's a pause. Steve rubs his thumb along my arm, letting me know he's there. His other hand pulls the covers up to our chests. "Emma," he finally mumbles, "I truly believe that if somethin' happened to Bucky, you would feel it. You two are so close that I think you would've felt somethin' if he were hurt or worse."

I lift my red, swollen eyes to his baby blues. "You really thing that?"

He nods. "I do."

I sigh, breaking eye contact to rest my cheek on his shoulder. He tugs me closer, resting his chin on my hair. "I just miss him," I mumble. "I miss the way things used to be."