Steve's Diary

February 1, 1945

Dear Diary,

I've been doing this for weeks. Weeks!

I just can't seem to move on or figure out what the Hell is going on inside my head!

—————

I sat there all alone in that small, destroyed town called London where I was been told to remain for the next few months. I was in a destroyed building- a bar, actually, and I was drinking. By that, I mean I was trying to get drunk again.

I was chugging and chugging as much as I possibly could and as fast as I could. I hadn't eaten all day and still, nothing!

Blackout is still in effect throughout the London area. Please wait for the all-clear. Your attention, please. All citizens shall remain indoors until further notice.

The man on the radio informed me that the blackout I was seeing wasn't just here, as it was all throughout London and that we should all try to stay inside, like I'll listen to that. How could I possibly stay it that wretched hotel that we'd shared less than a month previous? It was simply torture.

Blackout is still in effect throughout the London area.

Just then, I heard footsteps among the rubble that was behind me.

I looked at the doorway, it was Peggy. I quickly looked away and wiped the tears from my probably reddened face. I sat up and poured myself more alcohol. "Dr. Erskine said that this serum wouldn't just affect my muscles, it would affect my cells. Create a protective system of regeneration and healing- which mean, um, I can't get drunk," I told her, shaking my head at the glass I held between my fingers. "Did you know that? I asked, almost referring to that other night in the bar when she had drunkenly kissed me and assumed I was in the same state.

"Your metabolism burns four times faster than the average person," she began as she lifted a char so that she might sit beside me. "He thought it could be one of the side effects." Hell, she knew.

Though, it didn't matter how much I wanted to think about her or this conversation or the fact that my metabolism is ridiculously fast or that I, simply, cannot get drunk no matter how damn hard I try. All that remained in my barren mind was him- all things him. His laugh, his smile... the way he smelled or the way he felt between my arms. The fact that I can't remember the last time I told him I loved him and he said it back or even the last time I realized how lucky I was to have someone like him.

Sure, I have Peggy and Howard and all these military people around me and they were my friends, I suppose... but. can't help but feel this empty hole inside my chest. That's where all the people I've lost go, isn't it? It's this hole that won't close but only manages to grow larger with every minute that passes by. I fear it may consume me one day, filling me with darkness and leaving nothing in it's wake but shadows of what used to be- of mom and Bucky and me.

"It wasn't your fault," Peggy tells me. Like Hell it's not.

"Did you read the report?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Then you know that's not true," I told her, holding back more tears as I remembered what was written about the 'success mission' during which I lost the only real friend I had left.

"You did everything you could," She paused and I said nothing. "Did you believe in your friend?" I looked up at her. "Did you respect him?" Sure I did, but that doesn't mean tha- "Then stop blaming yourself. Allow Barnes the dignity of his choice. He damn well must have thought you were worth it."

"I'm going after Schmidt," I told her, realizing now more than ever before what it was I truly had to do. "I'm not gonna stop until all of hydra is dead or captured."

"You won't be alone," she assured me.

—————

Sure, I won't be alone, but it won't take an army to get it done. I can - and will - do this all on my own. I know what I have to do to avenge Bucky.

He will not have died in vain if I kill the lot of them, right? God, maybe it'll ease my pain a little, even, simply to watch the life drain from Johann Schmidt's bug-eyed, red face.

Trust me on this, I'm gonna burn this place to the ground and rise from the ashes myself if that's what it takes.

~ S. Rogers