The Red Soldier: Rise of the Red Soldier

ISSUE #11

Steve's fist banged on the front door to (Y/N)'s house a couple times before the door was opened. (Y/N) stood there smiling, his hands coated in flour, his shirt and tie stained with tomato puree. 'Oh, Steve!' he grinned, 'come in, yous are late.' He walked back to the kitchen, picking up a can of beer and taking a sip before wiping his hands on a damp dishcloth. 'Can I get either of you a can of beer?' he asked, turning around as he looked in the fridge. 'I guessed yous were running late so I just went ahead and made the dough and the sauce to save time.'

'Bucky's not coming,' Steve said, quietly. Why did I always have to deliver the difficult news?

'Not coming?' (Y/N)'s eyebrows shifted, 'where is he like?' Steve looked down at the floor. This was the third time he'd need to relay bad news to (Y/N) (L/N) regarding Bucky Barnes. 'Where is he Steve?' his voice was hoarse, filled with emotion. Steve didn't want to have to tell him. 'He's done it hasn't he?' (Y/N)'s arms dropped to his sides, his brows furrowing as his nostrils flared and tears welled up in his eyes.

For a second, he stared at his shoes, letting out shallow breaths. Then in an instant he was looking straight at Steve, his eyes glowing crimson as red smoke danced about in the palms of his hands. 'He said he wouldn't do it,' yelled (Y/N), tears streaming down his face, 'what did you say to him?'

'Nothing,' said Steve, calmly.

'Don't lie to me Steve Rogers, do you forget what I'm capable of?'

'He was worried, (Y/N),' Steve shouted, he wished it wouldn't have needed to come to this, 'he was worried because he didn't want to leave you again. I told him things would be different this time because you'd have me.' He was speaking more calmly now, inching towards (Y/N) who remained levitating in the kitchen, 'I promised him I'd take care of you, that I'd protect you. Let me fulfil my promise.'

(Y/N) (L/N)'s eyes closed for a few minutes, the magic in his hands glowing more intensely as his hands raised. Then he fell, and Steve caught him on the floor. Tears stained his cheeks, his brows furrowing as he continued to sob. 'It's going to be alright (Y/N).' Steve tried to comfort him.

(Y/N) clung to his shirt, resting his head in Steve's chest, as his (E/C) eyes stared into his, 'I don't want things to be okay. I just want him.'

'I know,' Steve nodded, helping (Y/N) to his feet, 'let's just get you to bed, we're leaving in the morning.'

'Leaving?' the other asked, 'I can't leave, I need to be here just in case...'

'You promised me you'd help my friends,' Steve flashed a small smile, pulling back the sheets on (Y/N)'s bed, and helping him in, pulling off his socks and shoes, 'T'Challa's found someone to take care of your goats, and he's temporarily released you from your position.'

The King of Wakanda had been standing outside Bucky's room, and when Steve had saw him, they had a discussion. Steve wasn't going to leave (Y/N) (L/N) alone in Wakanda. He couldn't take care of him for Bucky when he was leaving.

Tired and defeated, (Y/N) nodded his head, 'I'll pack a bag in the morning.'

'I'll set your alarm for you,' Steve told him, but he had already fallen asleep. Steve Rogers unbuttoned the top of his friend's shirt and removed his tie before pulling up the bedsheets and tucking him in. Then he set the alarm, put a full glass of water, along with Bucky's letter, on the bedside table, and left.

Steve returned the next morning, finding an unshowered (Y/N) sat outside his house smoking a cigarette whilst talking to his goats. (Y/N)'s eyes were bloodshot, the hair on the back of his head flattened from where he'd been lying, he was even still wearing the clothes he'd fell asleep in. He looked up at Steve as he approached, a hollow look about his face. 'Good morning,' Steve smiled, starring at (Y/N)'s bag 'want me to get your bag?' It was the same kit bag he'd used during the war.