I'm Here | ✓

55 - War

I tap my pencil against my chin, thinking.

I got the life I wanted, finally. These last two years, we melted into the crowd, living as Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, staying out of the spotlight. In my journal, I've got tiny photos of us pasted on the inside cover; the two of us revisiting Coney Island. The two of us on the Cliffs of Moher in Ireland. The two of us taking a prank photo at the Smithsonian. The two of us watching the fireworks on Steve's birthday. The two of us kissing passionately against a vibrant Wakandan skyline.

I remember it all in vivid detail.

But that's not the point. How do I summarize how these last two years have been?

A blank page stares back up at me, and with a sigh, I just start writing. Heart to pencil, pencil to paper, words filling up the empty space.

The last two years of my life have been bliss.

For the longest time, I wondered if I even deserved the privilege of love. I saw myself as a murderer, a machine, and nothing more. I can't go back and undo all the damage, but I think I've finally come to terms with everything. And that meant opening my heart up to the one man who's been with me through it all; the one person who can see past the metal arm and past the muscles and love me for my soul.

We've been everywhere, and I have the photos to prove it. Coney Island. Ireland. The Smithsonian, again. France. Greece. Lake Michigan. Some of the most beautiful places in the world. At the same time, I realize it's not always those moments that make a lasting impact. I remember Steve and I playing crossword puzzles on the plane, seeing who could fill one in the fastest. I remember carrying him around bridal-style when he twisted his ankle one time, even when he insisted it didn't hurt. I remember dozing off on his shoulder while he drew. I remember keeping each other up at 1 A.M. by making stupid jokes and sarcastic comments.

I see a little bit of myself in him, I think, but I also see someone I look up to. He's more than my other half. I don't know what I'd do without him. My nightmares have practically stopped because of him.

I don't know how much longer the peace is going to last. I'm writing this on a jet, on our way to Europe. Sam found Wanda, Natasha came back, so it's the four of us on our way to either retrieve Wanda or defend her. I saw what happened in New York. There's nothing we can do, but Wanda is strong. Steve says she's one of the strongest Avengers, so I don't know why we let her run loose, but we have her location now. It's just a waiting game.

I don't know if I'll survive this. Hell, maybe this is a death note. I want Steve to know that he's been my everything for as long as I can remember, my anchor even in hard times. There was a time when I contemplated death so casually I might have been thinking about the weather, but now I actually have purpose. A direction. That sounds like something a hero would say. Well, maybe after today, I will be a hero. That's not what I want. I just want to protect Wanda, protect Steve, and go back home to watch Back to the Future 2. That's the plan.

I hope we survive this. This is a real threat this time, not just some gang making trouble in the city. There are alien spaceships and nobody has seen Spider-Man or Iron Man or the witch doctor guy since they went up there. This is just a blip, an outlier. I'm so close to living a normal life; I just have to survive this.

I love you, Steve.

"Real emotional," Natasha says. I glance up at her, across the aisle, scrolling on her phone. She was reading my letter as I was writing it.

"I feel like I should say thank you." Just in case we die.

I'm joking, but when our eyes meet, hers are cold and serious. "I'm just as worried as you. Shit's really hit the fan lately. I just want everything to be okay, for once."

"Me too."

There are too many unspoken words between us. We both know this could very well be the biggest threat the Earth has faced in years.

"It almost feels weird, though, how long things have stayed normal."

"Right?" She shuts off her phone, flipping it from hand to hand. "It's been a rough few years. I almost don't want to say it, but I'm almost bored. Aliens should really spice things up."

"Got any pro tips?"

She hums for a moment. "If there's a maniacal overlord controlling the whole thing, it's somebody else's problem. Watch the weapons; that's a whole new ballpark we know nothing about. Don't wait for the villain speech, if it comes. Catch them off guard before they start monologuing."

"Noted. Is that last one really a problem?"

She rolls her eyes with a groan. "All the time. We've got dozens of recordings of Loki from 2012 stored all over the place. Guy's prattling on about 'the unspoken truth of humanity' and all that. The man wouldn't stop talking when Tony confronted him in the tower. And, of course, you've got Ultron giving Loki a run for his money. What a hypocrite; he's a robot, he doesn't know anything about humans."

Steve pipes up from his spot in the pilot's seat. "And, team up as much as possible. If you see somebody fighting alone, give 'em some help."

I raise an eyebrow where he can't see it. "Oh, so don't do what you always do, then."

He spins around with a sigh, but he's smiling. "Yeah. Yeah, don't do what I do."

I close the journal and wander over to him, taking the co-pilot's spot. For a moment, I just sit there, watching us soar above the clouds, above the beautiful countryside, above people living completely average lives. It was our responsibility to keep them average.

A glance over at Steve tells me he's overthinking all of this. His face is fraught with worry, his knuckles white on the plane's controls.

I reach over and flick it into autopilot, and he looks at me slowly. I can see the fear in his eyes. I know the feeling.

"You fought Nazis," I whisper. "You fought aliens. You fought gods. You fought world-destroying robots. You fought your best friends for a chance at a better world." I slip his hand off the controls and intertwine our fingers. "This is no different. We're going to make it."

"I shouldn't have brought you here." He scoffs, but it's more like a choke. "I've been noticing how everything I say sounds more like an apology."

I squeeze his hand tighter. "Steve, I am the best assassin in the world."

"Watch it," Natasha calls from behind me, and I crack a smile.

"I wasn't done. I'm the best assassin in the world going on a mission with three other amazing, ass-kicking, superhero fighters. It's a few aliens. They've got a huge circle in the sky. So what? You've got one more person to support you now." I lean a little closer. "We're going to be okay, Steve. We're going to be fine."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

I grab the collar of his new uniform and pull him into me, a fiery kiss sealing the vow. I know everything will be okay, because I'm with him. There's no place I'd rather be.

My veins are already pumping with adrenaline when we land. I hold Steve's hand tight, staring up at the gorgeous night sky probably swarming with unseen aliens. The jet purrs behind us. I repeat what I told Steve in my head like a mantra; we'll be okay, we'll be okay, we'll be okay -

There's a distant, echoing scream.

"Til the end of the line?" I whisper.

"Til the end of the line," he murmurs back.

I cock my gun, and the war begins.