HIDDEN ─ marvel

XXXVII. Star Spangled Man

Chapter Thirty-Seven
Soroya

I glance out of the window of the jet, confused to see the Washington Monument down below.

I look over to Steve from the co-pilot seat. "Why are we in D.C.?"

"You'll see." Is all he says, which is weird because Steve has never been known to be cryptic.

He lands the jet right in a large park, where people don't even bat an eye at the high tech vehicle parking in the grass. I guess when superhero's have been around for fifteen years then things don't shock you anymore. I know nothing shocks me anymore, especially since I get emails from a talking raccoon.

The sky is growing darker as we walk through the always cluttered city. I think D.C. is better at night; all of the lights in the city shining from the buildings and monuments, making the whole city glow with life. It also seems less chaotic, allowing one to really take in the city's beauty.

My confusion deepens as Steve leads us to the Smithsonian, especially since it's closed. But I think this isn't the only time Steve has broken in, because he knows exactly what door to use. I feel slightly wrong for doing this, but as we make it into the main part of he museum, I like being able to see these attractions without so many people here.

I finally understand why Steve took me here as we make our way down the WWII hall. We stop when we reach the 'Captain America; The Living Legend and Symbol of Hope' exhibit.

Steve leads me into the room, flipping on the lights. I am hit with a wave of emotions; Bucky's face is everywhere. I remember he told me he came here to learn about his past. Seeing this exhibit made him want to discover who he really was. I've wanted to come and see it for myself, but I just never had the time.

Steve follows behind me as I look around, reading each plaque I come across. I soon find myself staring at the giant painting of Steve, Bucky, and the men I understand were called the Howling Commandoes. I walk up to the painting and I feel an ache in my chest at seeing Bucky's face. As my eyes drop down, I see a mannequin under his portrait. It's a pair of dark pants, a purple button down jacket and a belt filled with weapons. I touch the jacket gently, hearing Steve say from behind me:

"That's what he wore while we went on missions to take down HYDRA. He used to joke that they saved the best fashion for the sidekicks of Captain America."

I smile sadly, forcing my hand away from the jacket. I gesture to the empty mannequin under Steve's painting. "I'm going to take a wild guess and say that was you?"

Steve shrugs. "It's not stealing if it was mine."

"Is it back at the compound?"

"In a box in my closet."

I smile lightly and continue on looking. My attention is pulled to a large memorial board with Bucky's face on it. In the description it talks about the achievements he made on the battlefield, as well as him being the best friend to Captain America 'on both school yard and battlefield'.

It shows his death date being in 1944. I hate that my mind thinks about him falling into that ravine, being dragged into HYDRA's clutches and being tortured. I hate that everyone thinks he died then. Things could have been different if someone had just looked for him. Maybe an allied soldier would have found him instead of a HYDRA one.

A tv screen next to the board shows silent footage of Steve and Bucky laughing at a joke someone told off screen. Watching him laugh makes me almost able to hear it. God knows I would trade anything to hear it again.