22. Burden

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"I bottle everything up. I hide my emotions. I pretend to be okay. It's not healthy, I know, but I don't want to be a burden. I don't want to have people worried about me."
———

Things started to get bad as New Year's Eve drew near. Steve was gone more often, and when he came back, he was very distraught and aggravated. I kept my distance from him most of the time, not wanting to be another annoyance. I really wanted to help him, but I didn't know how to do so without making the problem worse.

Seeing him so upset had a negative effect on me as well and the stress was starting to become hard to bear. I felt depressed more often and had bad nightmares almost every night. I knew Steve was trying so hard to help me, but he was just running himself ragged between dealing with Tony and trying to help me get better. It made me feel like a huge burden.

Maybe if I wasn't there, things would get better quicker.

I thought about this day after day until finally, I came to a decision. I decided to leave. It was for the best, Steve could do without me. It was one less thing for him to worry about. Maybe when I struck out on my own again, I could get some help somewhere. I wasn't really in the right state of mind when I made this decision, but I felt like it was the right one to make.

It was around midnight when I took my leave. I gathered my things and carefully arranged them in my black backpack, quickly grabbing a picture of Steve so I could remember him before zipping it up. I flung the bag over my shoulders and glanced at the bed where Steve laid, watching his chest slowly rise and fall with each breath. With a light sigh, I bent over and gently kissed him on the cheek. "I'm doing this for you, Steve..." I whispered in a hushed tone, blinking away a few tears as I stood up.

And with that, I disappeared into the night.

———

2 months later
Bucharest, Romania

My memory had gotten worse over time. I could hardly remember anything without looking at what I had previously written in my journals. The only thing I managed to remember all the time was the way back to my crummy little apartment.

Occasionally, I'd wonder what Steve was up to. With me gone, he hopefully wasn't having very many problems since I was the main one in the first place. It made me sad to think about it, but I couldn't stop because I was afraid I would lose the memory of him if I didn't. I kept pictures in my journal just in case I ever did. Despite that, I could feel his memory slipping through my fingers.

My greatest fears were becoming a reality. My mind was breaking apart again, leaving me to pick up the pieces. My thoughts were constantly scattered to winds and I found myself rewriting things that I had already rewritten months ago in order to remember them. I guess living by myself again was taking its toll.

While spending my time in Bucharest, I discovered that plums helped with memory. I decided to go to the market today to get some, why not? If anything, they couldn't hurt me.

Donning my new baseball cap, jacket, and gloves, I headed out. The market wasn't too far down from where my apartment was, just a ten minute walk. I didn't make eye-contact with anyone around me. They put me on edge. When the market was in sight, I forced myself to relax a bit.

After talking a bit in Romanian with the stall owner, I decided I couldn't afford any plums and started heading back towards my apartment. When I was standing at a crosswalk, waiting to walk across, I spotted a newsstand just across the street. I soon found myself walking towards it instead of going back to my apartment. The man who was working the stand seemed spooked by my approach and took off, but I didn't pay any mind to it. I grabbed the newspaper off of the counter and looked it, my hands trembling a bit as I held it.

"Winter soldier suspected in Vienna UN bombing"

It was in Romanian, but I could understand exactly what it said. It sent chills down my spine as I read it and my gaze immediately began shifting around. I needed to leave. I didn't feel safe around here anymore.

———

When I returned to my apartment, a man dressed in a navy blue uniform was reading through one of my journals. I just stood there, unsure of what to do. When he turned around, however, his face sparked a memory. I knew those baby blues anywhere.

Steve.

"You know who I am, right?" Steve asked firmly, his eyes narrowing. He had his shield by his side and he seemed a bit distracted. It was then I got the feeling that something was about to happen.

And it wasn't going to be pretty.


A/N: I'm trying to incorporate Civil War scenes into this, so sorry if the timing seems off or whatever. I'm trying my best to weave it into my story lol 😂

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