WE'LL MEET AGAIN

DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME

a small glance into steve rogers' life.  accidentaly came out of a headcanon.

steve hates the cold.

more specifically, cold water.

it reminds me too much of the ice, he says.  his lost adulthood that he wished he could've spent working, doing taxes and taking care of his future children.

it reminds him too much of his lost life.

he swears he's in the ice whenever the temperature in the tower drops below 60 degrees fahrenheit.  he hates it.

steve skips the opportunity to go to a cold mission whenever he can.  whenever the world doesn't need him.  the layers of clothes cliging to his body aren't enough , no matter how many.  thanks to the serum, his body does tend to lean on the warmer side.  he can't help it.

and when he does it's hell.

today was one of those days.

being an avenger paid well, at times.  i don't think i can afford a place in brooklyn , he recalled telling sam.

and it was true.  tony offered to pay part of his bills, though.  ( what a great man, indeed.  steve regretted both hiding so many things from him and saying shit when he didn't know what he was talking about, really.  without tony, nothing would be the way it is. )  he refused , though.  you've already done enough for me, thank you. he'd say as he walked out of the compound, motorcycle helmet being firmly grasped by his warm & calloused hands.

the water doesn't work on his favor today, though. and he realises once it's too late.  way too late.

it's cold.

he's sitting in the bathtub, his hands lightly wrapped around his blonde hair as he pulled at it.  it's over , he says.  it's over.

he tries to talk to himself out of it, muttering words that not even he can understand.  a prayer, maybe.  one of those that his mother used to do when it seemed like he was on the verge of death, yet again.  one of those that he'd say under the covers on a long brooklyn night after being beat up.  one of those that he'd put his fate in long before he truly saw how disgusting the world was.  ave maria purisima.

how people would fight over the most petty reasons, taking the lives of others.  the life that many wish they could have.

it had already been twenty minutes by the time bucky arrived at his apartment to check on steve.  he doesn't hear anything other than the soft and muffled sound of the cold water hitting steve's bathtub. 

he knocks and knocks until he gets too worried for his liking and opens the door without care.  and there's steve, hands still in his hair. 

such a strong man looking vulnerable, it's almost as if he was a sixteen year old again.

james takes a towel and wraps it around the blonde, turning the water off immediately.  he embraces steve and wraps another towel around him.  steve is still too cold for his liking.

i'm sorry, i'm so sorry.

he didn't even think about the words that came  out of his cold, pale lips.

except he did.  and he was sorry that he had been so vulnerable when his friend had been through more.  he was sorry for being so vulnerable even though he was supposed to be a symbol of hope. 

maybe someday he'd be able to embrace the cold the same way it did during all of those years in the ice.

but that someday isn't today.