Ready Set Breathe (A Steve Rogers Destruction Story)

6 Dying

Extra chapter because I'm bored and because this one has no decided pertinence to the plot. -BB

Steve's life began with fear, because he didn't want to die. He had dreams, and plans, and friends and so many things to look forward to. Steve clung to life, and to his fear, until finally, he just couldn't anymore. He hung onto that desperate fear of death until life forced him to realize that death wasn't going to be an unfamiliar thing to him. And that was the first fear Steve ever conquered, but maybe it wasn't for the better, because losing his fear of death only meant recognizing the fact that his death was unavoidable anyway. Steven Grant Rogers was going to die, and he was going to die sooner, rather than later, and he would probably never fulfill all those dreams or be able to grow old with his friends or really look forward to any good thing at all. Steve was going to die and that was a fact. No use being scared now. Then, the fear didn't necessarily drain away, no; it warped, it changed, it became the anger, and the resentment. It bubbled up inside him until he was lashing out and becoming reckless and picking fights, because if he was going to die anyway, did it quite matter how?

Bucky struggled to keep up; he understood Steve and listened and tried to keep him out of trouble, but Steve went looking for it because he was just so angry.

Why couldn't he have a life? Why couldn't he have a long, happy, healthy life like everyone else?

How come he was worthless because of something that wasn't his fault? How come he couldn't do what other people could, how come he had to prove himself at every corner, at every turn, exhausting himself in every way possible, just to keep up with the world, just to scream out loud, I'm worth something! I'm more than just a burden! I can do what you can do!

Why did he have to accept help with things others could do easily? Why was it always his very life on the line?

Steve may have come off as prideful to someone who didn't know him better. He may have come off as snobbish or egotistical because he refused help and because he refused to admit his own shortcomings, but he wasn't. Steve was angry. He was bitter and resentful. It wasn't fair that he had to be less than everyone else. It wasn't fair that he had to work twice as hard to keep up. So damn them and damn their help because Steve could do it himself. He could do it by himself and he didn't need them, he could be as good as anyone else all on his own. Without the medicine and without the assistance and without the concern. Steve could measure up, he could! He just needed a chance.

Steve was sick because he was sick and that was simply it, but it didn't help that he didn't take much effort to take care of himself. It was a mixture of the resentment he felt towards accepting help, the resentment towards having to take medicines that no one else had to take. It was the fact that his self-esteem was shrivelling. It was fact that he was so sure that maybe, one day, if he was lucky and if he worked hard enough, he could be just as healthy as anyone else, without the help of a medicine or a doctor. So Steve avoided the medicines as best as he could. He hated taking all of them, even when they made him feel better on the outside because on the inside, they made him feel frustrated and worthless and they reminded him, back down to that core, back to the very beginning, that Steven Grant Rogers was going to die. And he was going to die sooner, rather than later.

And then the war came on and Steve found in this everything he'd ever wanted. He could prove himself. He could do something honorable and noble and no one could ever call him a waste of resources again. He could even live up to his parents.

And if he died, well then, great. What was new there? Steve knew he was going to die, but this death was ideal because it was an honorable death. It was a death being useful, being equal, being honorable. Death on a battlefield far outweighed death on a sickbed. And suddenly, it did matter how he was going to die and Steve was going to die honorably in World War Two, an equal to the rest of the soldiers.

However, because nothing was ever easy for Steve, roadblock after roadblock stood in his way, until finally, he was lying on his papers and switching his information and slipping out the backdoor once Bucky fell asleep because if Bucky knew he was trying again, he would be up all night long, upset.

Then, of course, the serum came and screwed up all Steve's wonderful plans for death, screwed them over so bad that he ended up being 26 years old 96 years later and nothing was the same except everything's the same. Inside him, he's no different, but this time, Steven Grant Rogers isn't going to die. And he'd never had to live with that before.