Journal

[ooc: Backdated to July 4th.]

The weird part about having a birthday on a national holiday is that you can never forget that it's happening. No matter where he was in the States, there were parades and fireworks; even in Europe the Howling Commandos always made a big deal of the twin occasions, even if it meant embarrassing Steve.

Especially if it meant embarrassing Steve.

So the weird part about being on the run in Morocco on the Fourth of July is that it's just another day. Steve wakes up in a quiet, mid-grade hotel, gets breakfast at a side-street cafe, and passes some time writing and drawing and watching the city pass by.

(The drawing is Bucky, T'Challa, Shuri, and Sharon -- cartoon versions of them, like T'Challa with panther ears and Sharon as a slinky vixen -- in front of the panther statue in Wakanda's capital.)

When he gets back to his hotel, ready to siesta out of the heat of the day, the door doesn't open to his room.

Milliways. It always makes him smile.

The book is hand-drawn, its pages bound in an office-supply folder like a term paper. The label on the front (printed in Steve's big, friendly handwriting) reads, The Adventures of Bucky and Steve.

Inside are several pictures in colored pencil, with captions hand-written beneath them.

The title page shows a Bearcub-Bucky -- snub-nosed, in short pants -- and a Bearcub-Steve, small, skinny, and freckled, with The Adventures of Bucky and Steve framing the two cubs. By Steve Rogers is in much smaller letters below the title.

The next page is a note.

Bucky,
When I realized I'd have to start over with the story of the Growling Commandos, I decided to start over completely--start at the beginning, in fact. So here's a story just for you. (Maybe some other people later, if you're okay with that.)

Most of this is true. Most of this is mostly true.

Merry Christmas,
Steve

[Page 1: Bearcub-Bucky and bearcub-Steve sitting on a fire escape, legs dangling through the bars.]

Once upon a time, in a city called Brooklyn, there were two boys called Steve and Bucky.

[Page 2: Bearcub-Bucky and bearcub-Steve sharing a bag of popcorn in a movie theater, both their eyes wide with wonder at the film.]

Bucky was clever and kind and fun. He was Steve's favorite person (after his ma).

[Page 3: Bearcub-Bucky playing stickball with some other cubs while bearcub-Steve watches from a stoop.]

Steve and Bucky didn't do everything together, but they did as much they could.

[Page 4: Bearcub-Steve in bed with a cloth over his forehead and a thermometer in his mouth, Bearcub-Bucky sitting close by, animatedly talking.]

Steve was sick a lot, which made some people not like him. Bucky was never one of those people.

[Page 5: Bearcub-Steve with a shiner, getting his face washed by Bearcub-Bucky at a pedestal sink. Bearcub-Bucky has bloody knuckles.]

Steve was very bad at keeping out of trouble. Bucky often had to go in after him.

[Page 6: Bearcub-Steve at a dinner table, surrounded by Barneses: Papa Barnes, Mama Barnes, and all the Barnes cubs. Steve's plate is piled high with food.]

Even so, Bucky's ma never told Bucky to stay away from that Rogers boy.

[Page 7: Bearcub-Bucky and Bearcub-Steve passing notes in class while the nun's back is turned.]

They never got into too much trouble.

[Page 8: Bearcub-Steve and Bearcub-Bucky whispering to each other behind their hands in church as Mr. Barnes reaches for their shirt collars, preparing to knock some heads together.]

Probably not as much as they should have.

[Page 9: Bearcub-Steve and Bearcub-Bucky walking up a Brooklyn street, their backs to the viewer. Bucky's arm is around Steve's shoulders.]

Sometimes Steve was afraid Bucky would find other friends that he liked better, and leave Steve behind.

[Page 10: Grownup Bear-Steve and Grownup Bear-Bucky in their Growling Commandos uniforms, posing like the Smithsonian exhibit with the other Commandos around them.]

Bucky never, ever did.

Sam got some intel about a possible safehouse-slash-weapons depo that might be of interest to Bucky, so he and Steve head out to upstate Pennsylvania to check it out.

Steve doesn't have much hope for finding Bucky there--they're always at least two steps behind him, it seems, cleaning up what he leaves behind-- but sometimes standing in rooms he knows where Bucky has been is all the comfort he can find. Sometimes he feels like painting "BUCKY COME HOME" on the walls, just to see what would happen.

But Bucky won't be back to places he's already destroyed. Steve knows that.


Anyway.



The warehouse is on the edge of a small rural town that the economic crisis has hit hard. Most of the store fronts are boarded up. Some of the fields are bare, some are overgrown, and some hold the machinery of fracking. The warehouse itself looks rusty and abandoned, and Steve would pass it by if there weren't the hope of some sort of clue.

(Or the chance to bash some heads.)

It takes only a tap from the shield to break the padlock on the small door to the side of the building. No reason to break into the main security doors and draw attention to themselves. Steve eases the door open and steps inside, and nods to Sam.

Steve isn't sure when Bucky will be released from the cells, and so is passing the time at the Caribbean inlet, wondering how to get Orpheus's boat here. If it's possible, which he isn't sure about at all.

(There are boats floating on the perfect blue water. That seems promising.)

Boots off, pants rolled up, face turned up to the sun.

(Remembering, too, days spent at the shore, drawing sunbathers and flirting couples and Bucky as a boy, as a young man.)

His sketchbook is tucked in his coat. He may take it out before much longer.

"Be careful, Steve. You might not want to pull on that thread."


Steve speaks six languages, though for some "speaking" is a generous way to put it. His Russian is slightly better than conversational, but not by much. So it's with a Russian dictionary, a notepad, and a pot of coffee that he sits at the kitchen table with the battered file. He pours himself a cup, takes a deep breath, and begins to read.

Doctor's Notes
Apparently Comrade Karpov believes it probable that he, like his partner Captain America, has the much-rumored Super-Soldier Formula flowing through--or rather, frozen inside--his veins.

Doctor's Notes
There appears to be considerable brain damage. The subject has no memory of his previous life.

---

SPECIAL SECTION - DEPARTMENT X
FILE: TOP CLEARANCE ONLY

---

SPECIAL SECTION - DEPARTMENT X
FILE: TOP CLEARANCE ONLY

Project: Winter Soldier

---

United Nations Diplomatic Negotiation Team. All targets eliminated.

NATO General James Keller. Target eliminated.

British Ambassador Dalton Graines. Target eliminated.

United States Colonel Jefferson Hart. Target eliminated.

Quentin Evans. Target eliminated.

---

SPECIAL SECTION - DEPARTMENT X
FILE: TOP CLEARANCE ONLY

Project: Winter Soldier

---

SPECIAL SECTION - DEPARTMENT X
FILE: TOP CLEARANCE ONLY

Project: Winter Soldier 

---

French Defense Minister Jacque Brugière. Target eliminated.

Algerian Peace Conference Envoy. All targets eliminated.

Senator Harry Baxtor. Target eliminated.

Cleo A. Noel, Jr. George Curtis Moore. Guy Eid. Targets eliminated.

---

From the personal journal of General Vasily Karpov

---

SPECIAL SECTION - DEPARTMENT X
FILE: TOP CLEARANCE ONLY

Project: Winter Soldier

Final Report

---

There, the record ends.


Steve closes the folder and pushes back his chair from the table. The coffee pot is empty, his last cup only dregs.

For a moment he doesn't move, and then he buries his face in his hands.


The gentlest, most generous, kindest person I ever knew, my friend, my friend...



When he finally moves again, it's to tidy the folder and set the Russian dictionary on top of it; to fold back the pages of his notes (of names and dates and words, until he couldn't bear even to take notes anymore) to a blank page; to write, Sweetheart, I know more of Bucky's story now. I'll be in the bar, wishing that I didn't. Love you. S.

He picks up his jacket with the Milliways matchbook in the pocket, and goes through the door.

Steve's sleep is troubled tonight.

"This isn't freedom. This is fear."





Once he's returned from rescuing the Lumarian Star and debriefing with Fury, Steve needs... something. He's not sure what--a reminder, maybe, of what he's fighting for. Who he's fighting for.

As soon as he's changed into his civilian clothes, Steve calls Orpheus.

"Sweetheart, can you meet me at the Smithsonian? I think I'm ready to see the exhibit now."

Even people who pride themselves on supporting independent shops end up at Starbucks sometimes.

There's one within walking distance of Steve and Orpheus's apartment -- there are more than one if you're up to walking a bit more -- so Steve brings Felix there, so he can see what it's all about if nothing else.

It's a quiet Sunday afternoon. Steve has his sketchbook, but he hasn't opened it yet in favor of looking through a copy of the Express someone left on the table instead.

Steve keeps his hand on Orpheus's back as they go upstairs -- to a new room, unused by either of them. He's quiet, too, his thoughts still on the Russian-speaking man downstairs.