𝔹𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕋𝕠 𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕜𝕝𝕪𝕟 | Bucky Barnes (ON HOLD)

25 | Last Words

September 2011 - New York City

Steve Rogers slowly strolled through the familiar, yet so unfamiliar streets.

Though they were the same roads he'd walked down every day for his entire young life, it all seemed so alien to him. Like walking on another planet that was the same as his own, but backwards.

The clothes people wore seemed strange, and far too brightly coloured. The cars driving slowly down the heavily populated roads looked sleeker, and to him, they were futuristic. Something to be marvelled at whilst no one else batted an eye. The billboards on the high buildings were lit up, illuminating the city he thought he knew so well, even though it was still the middle of the day, and the sun was shining.

Walking up the steps to the place he'd been told to visit, Steve took a deep breath as he entered the museum, looking up at the endless signs and arrows that tried to send him in all different directions. Looking at the big map on the wall, which was protected by a thick, acrylic sheet, Steve's index finger of his right hand traced the line of the pathways from the entrance he'd just come through, all the way to the words he was looking for.

The hood of his dark blue jacket was up in an attempt to hide his face, and his large hands were tucked into the pockets of his denim jeans. The clothes felt ridiculous to him. They were not what he was used to at all. But this is what he had to do in order to blend in with the rest of the world he'd woken up in just four months ago. The denim felt too stiff, like it was restricting his movement, and the jacket was just odd. The white, tight-fitting t-shirt he wore underneath was almost too tight. It felt like he was wearing someone else's skin.

He made it up the staircase to where his final destination was located, and he looked around, seeing how busy the area was compared to the rest of the museum. There were voices muffled by other voices, kids running around, excitedly dragging their friends or their parents around to look at different exhibits.

When Steve looked up at the sign, he let out another slow sigh, still unbelieving of his current situation.

'CAPTAIN AMERICA'

That was him, once upon a time. He remembered his time as the well-loved hero of the second world war fondly. The people he met, the ones he saved and the ones he worked with. Names and faces were displayed around the exhibit, each one bringing up different memories for the old, young-looking man.

Two names in particular made him stop, and he stepped closer to the wall, his eyes scanning over every quote, every paragraph of information, every picture. The two faces he missed more than anything else from his old life, were right there on that wall, big smiles on their faces as they started back at him through the hazy, black and white images.

A young man, and a young woman. Both smiling, whilst the man had his arms wrapped around the girl's shoulders from behind, his head ducked around to look into her eyes. Steve could almost hear the image, and it brought a smile to his face when he thought of the laughter he and his two closest friends had shared back then.

One of the screens started showing multiple pictures and silent clips of himself and the man and woman from the board. The images were a little obscured by the technology of the time they were taken, but he didn't need the pictures. He was there when they were taken. He remembered every detail.

He sunk down onto an uncomfortable wooden bench as a voice started to talk through the speakers around the room.

"Best friends since childhood, James Barnes, Steve Rogers, and Elenora Madison were inseparable on both school yard and battlefield."