" so many assume. so little know "
.
.
.
in which a bad mouthed agent is assigned to help the walking talking patriarchal symbol of what is right and what is wrong. and in the process of it all, learns how much she needed the desk duty
BOOK ONE | St...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
NEW YORK america ____________________________
STEVE
I WASN'T sure what had happened. One moment everything was fine and the next, well, everything changed. It was like it had been moving in slow motion. Everything was at a stand still as the actions in front of me displayed itself; in a wicked and torturous way. And then it sped up. Everything was a blur. A blur of blood, dust, dirt, pain, and mostly, guilt.
Living the life I had unfortunately been blessed with, I learned how to count the moments that passed by. And I have lived, more than any man should, and it was every single moment that brought me to where I was today.
From the decision of writing those damned illegal enlistment forms, to signing on to become Captain America, to losing my best friend, and to being frozen for seventy odd years. Every moment, every decision, led me to this room, to this bedside, to this gut wrenching guilt that made it difficult to breathe.
And it was quite possibly the worst moment that I had come to encounter. Because it was entirely my fault. It was my distraction, my lack of decision, my lack of everything I had trained on and had confidence in. I was responsible for the cause of this moment.
Though the company I found myself in told me it wasn't. They told me that nothing could have prevented the events that transpired in the early morning light. It was out of my grasp; the second person that fell into harms way when my grip loosened.
But how could I believe what they say, what my team says, when I remember it so vividly? I remember the ghosted look in her eyes, the way fear over took and held captive. I remember the way she looked at me so desperately, her whispering pleads when I held her close. Don't let me die. I don't want to die.
It had been my lack of judgement that will cost her her life; and that's a moment I don't think I will ever move on from. I don't think I'll ever forget the way her dark eyes looked so far gone, yet so present in the deepest bit of fear. The way that they were clouded over and no matter how much I yelled, they wouldn't come back to me.
Nothing I had done that day was the right call. The mission had been blown to hell even if we won; and I will take the blame for it. Just as I will the outcome of this wretched day. It will become just another burden that I'll bare. I'll add it to my shoulders, buckle my knees, and trudge forward.
But the weight of this one was suffocating and I wondered if I'd be able to carry it without falling.
I'm not really sure how long I sat in that uncomfortable plastic chair; with my long legs crossed diagonally and tired arms resting loosely by my side. A baseball cap resting on the crown of me head, eyes dropping every so often in sheer exhaustion, growing used to and accustomed to the steady beeping that told me, I'm fighting, Rogers. Don't give up on me yet.
