Chapter Three: The American

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The American

Part One - Steve Rogers

Steve picks up a table and chair and stands them straight. Crocker's Folly - the English pub he found himself in and the one that had become their drinking house for the time they were posted here, hadn't received a direct hit, but it had been close enough that it had almost been destroyed. It would take a lot to get it back on its feet but for now it is quiet, deserted, and just what Steve needs.

He walks over to behind the bar. There are some bottles that have survived the blast and he picks up one of them, finds a glass, blows the dirt out and pours a drink - and because he is Steve Rogers he places some money on top of the cash register.

He moves to walk back to the table, but instead changes his mind. He pulls out some more money, adds it to the bit he has already paid and grabs the bottle and the glass and goes and sits down.

Okay so he can't get drunk - but he can damn well try.

"Dammit what a mess," he says, and he is not talking about the pub.

He closes his eyes. "To you Buck."

And he takes a drink. Tries to pretend that Bucky is there sat next to him as he was the last time they were in here.

He opens his eyes. They are full of unshed tears. How is he meant to do this? How does he go on without James Barnes? How does he stop himself from seeing him stretch out his hand and not being able to stop Bucky from falling? He can't. He sees terrible images of Bucky's body lost in the wilderness never to be found. He couldn't even bring him home for burial. He doesn't even know where his final resting place is.

His stomach clenches from the thought of never seeing Bucky again, and his hand closes around the glass so tight that if he hadn't realised he would have broken it. He puts the glass down, and for God knows how many more times he thinks of the last mission and the if onlys. It had happened in seconds, seconds that couldn't be changed.

They had talked about how one day they may not come back. He had argued over it with Bucky.

And then he remembered their last conversation.

"I don't wanna talk about it Steve," Bucky had grumbled.

"Why not?" Steve had asked innocently.

James Barnes had been so quiet that Steve didn't think he had heard him. He looked at his friend, only to find him staring back.

"Don't you think I know I've already lost you?" Bucky had said quietly.

Since Steve and Bucky had finally talked about what had happened with Zola, Bucky had been prone to fits of melancholy. Steve knows now why Bucky had thought he had lost him. James had been trying to push him away - not because he didn't love Steve, but because he thought Steve wanted Peggy.

"Buck..." Steve had started to say.

"Don't."

"We have to talk, I know why you think that, why you think I don't love you any more, I do, don't you understand?"

Bucky had gone to walk away, but Steve wouldn't let him.

"Buck, I like Peggy, I like her a lot, I can't explain it. But it's you I love."

"Yeah, Steve? And whose picture do you carry around with you huh? Mine or hers?"

Bucky had pushed him away and walked off, leaving Steve without any idea of what to do.

In the present, as he sits in the pub, Steve murmurs."Why didn't I tell you Buck, why didn't I put you right?"

He carries a photograph of Peggy in his compass. She means a lot to him, and if he had never known Bucky, if Bucky wasn't there, then yes - he thinks there may have been something. But James Barnes means so much to him.

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