Steve's Diary

July 11, 2014

Dearest Diary,

Now that I'm in charge... I guess I'd better start getting my mission plan ready... though, I'm not entirely sure how good I'll be at that.

Looking at past experiences, I only seem to be successful in missions that involve Bucky in some way; I just don't see how he could, in any way, be a part in any of this.

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I decided to go out on a walk this morning, in order to get all my thoughts in place. I needed to step up and fix everything, as it was now all on me. At this point, I need to be willing to do anything to get through this perfectly.

Whatever it takes.

I stopped at a bridge as I came across it. There was a pretty nice view from there and I started to realize that, for me to be happy, it needs to be the little things in life. This right here? It couldn't be more perfect- unless Bucky was by my side.

It was muggy outside... just like it was every so often in Brooklyn. Though, there was that one day that stuck in my head and remains there to this moment.

"We looked for you after," I heard his voice begin anew. I heard the church bells ringing in the distance as if we were really there. "My folks wanted to give you a ride to the cemetery," he went on.

Then, almost like I had no control over myself in this moment, I was there. It was like the current view of water and trees and fog had disappeared and all I could see was that unbearable day, October 16, 1936.

I remembered avoiding Bucky and his family because I didn't want him to see me so distraught and lost. "I know, I'm sorry it's- I kinda wanted to be alone," I heard myself say. I was watching it happen before me like I was an outsider- as if I wasn't myself and he wasn't himself anymore.

"How was it?" He'd asked.

"It was okay... she's next to dad," I watched my eyes get glassy from an outsiders perspective- like a movie. I saw myself brush the hair off of my surprisingly slim face as we'd approached the door.

"I was gonna ask-" he'd stopped.

"I know what you're gonna say, Buck. It's just..."

"We can put the couch cushions on the floor like when we were kids... it'd be fun, all you gotta do is just shine my shoes or maybe take out the trash..." he'd walked over and kicked a brick out of the way, displaying the key to my old place back in Brooklyn. I remembered how my Mom used to put it there for safe keeping. He'd bent over and picked it up, simply handing it to me. "Come on..." I took it from him just then.

"Thank you, Buck... but I can get by on my own."

I remember feeling so far from myself in the moment that I didn't wanna drag him down, too. I couldn't hurt him or show him that I was hurting.

"The thing is, you don't have to," his eyes had narrowed and I remember suddenly feeling like it was just us all by ourselves in this cruel world. His hand had met my shoulder like it did many times before and would again many times after. "I'm with you 'til the end of the line pal."

Those words echoed in my head. That's really something we used to say to one another, wasn't it? I'm only really seeing this now, but we knew all we could rely on was each other and so... this, whatever it was and whatever we wanted to call it, was all we had.

I remembered not knowing what to say after he told me that for the first time in this inexplicable moment. It was like he had pulled me from an intense nightmare and soothed me down from an unrecognizable version of myself. Perhaps this was the only way we'd ever be able to deal with what life had to throw at us. Together.