For the Love of a Patriot || 𝗖𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗔𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗮 ✔️ [#wattys 2018]

Epilogue

~PRIDE.~
~Kendrick Lamar~

•••

She spent years trapped under her own thumb. She spent years trying to undermine herself, lying to herself, she spent years trying to be everything everyone else always wanted her to be.

But not anymore.

Steve had left for his mission in Siberia on Wednesday, January 3rd of 2018, two days after what would come to be known as the Central Park incident on New Years Day.

The day he carved his name into a tree in a park.

The day he realized exactly how much he loved Rachel Bennett.

He loved her enough to want to protect her.

But protecting was never what Rachel wanted.

"Airsick?" Rachel looked up at the sound of someone probably speaking to her. The turbulence on the large plane was rather discomforting, but she didn't mind all that much.

"It's fine." She answered dryly, glancing away from the eyes of the officer across from her. Three months into the academy and she was already making a mark as Enzo's "favorite rookie".

"You're kinda quiet you know that?" He was trying to make small talk with the resident deadpan over achiever. She'd been with Alpha squad for the duration of her grace period and had said very very little. "If you're going into war, you gotta at least get to know the people you're dying with." He cracked a grin.

At this she glanced up at him again, an impassive look upon her face. "Officer Kay." She knew his name, it was on his badge, along with his rank on the side of his uniform.

He raised his dark brown eyebrows, he was handsome enough to give something charming. "Lieutenant." He quipped with correction accompanied by a small grin. "Or Jake."

Officer Rachel Bennett almost had the energy to roll her eyes. "Lieutenant Kay." She corrected herself softly, staring at him with gentle displeasure. "You don't make friends in a war."

He was thoughtful towards the little quip, offering a small shrug. "I suppose not, but..." he smiled again very slightly, a blithe feeling overcoming him. "What do we have to lose?"

In that plane, on the way to a Serbian desert, Rachel was well aware of at least one thing.

Everyone had something to lose.

The consequence of that kind of arrogance was often great and quite dangerous.

Steven would eventually pay the price for his ambiguous arrogance.

Somewhere near Barnaul, Siberia

Being up before dawn had become a habit.

For three months he had made it a habit to be up before the sun so he could watch it.

Sitting on the ground, next to the open doors of the balcony, he would stay there for perhaps an hour to visualize something he missed very dearly.

Things that were becoming very difficult to remember, he had to fight with himself to be able to depict as accurately as he could on stray pieces of off-white parchment paper. The things he would always remember—the exact way she smiled when she was happy, the color of her eyes, the texture of her hair, he always had to draw during the sunrise.

That's when he remembered her the best.

The particular moment he had in mind was his favorite. It was enough to bring a smile to his lips.

He could always remember the look of pure adoration on her face, the red tint of her cheeks when she blushed, the way her lips parted when she was going to say I love you.

He missed the passion about her.

As he glanced down at the tattered parchment, the memory of the night, dating back to February 12th, 2017, flooded his mind.

The way his hand reached out to caress her face as she looked at him with so much emotion, giving him her everything.

He missed her too much.

But too much wasn't enough.

"Alright." He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of a gruff voice, half drowsy.

He looked back to see them holding one of the stray works of art he ever so carelessly left around the place.

"I gave you three months."

Steve could only look back down a bit despondently at his current sketch.

"You wanna tell me the name of the girl you've been spending all of your free time drawing?" They inquired. "Because I give up."

The disheveled captain let out a loose breath. He hadn't physically said her name in a while.

"Rachel." He said softly. It was almost foreign on the tip of his tongue.

The other man raised a lazy brow, but then upon realizing that he was really in deep, his expression became supportive but curious. "Pretty girl." He quipped lightly, placing a candid depiction of her laughing on the counter. "Who is she?"

Steven's lashes fluttered before he looked down.

"Someone I loved."

A reaction of surprise sprouted across the face of his oldest friend.

In his own 90 plus years of life, James Barnes had never seen Steven Grant Rogers so...depressed. He didn't know the new him, but he had only known the old him to know different stages of liking, and perhaps infatuation, but never love. It was...concerning.

As the surprise slowly faded into sympathy, Bucky placed his good arm on the shoulder of his best friend.

Steve looked up, gray dejection clouding his usually lively blue irises, and suddenly he felt the need to correct himself. He was apologetic.

"Someone I love."