There's Bucky at the end of the alley, tall and handsome in his uniform--and Steve is tiny again, lungs constricting with every breath and an ache in his knuckles and his face.
"Thought I lost you." He manages to muster up a smile. "Shoulda known you'd turn up like a bad penny."
"Okay, so some of them haven't been -- but this dame's different, I know it," Bucky insists. "Like I said, she's smart. She'll be able to see the real you."
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"Lose something?"
There's laughter in his voice, coming from behind Steve.
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There's Bucky at the end of the alley, tall and handsome in his uniform--and Steve is tiny again, lungs constricting with every breath and an ache in his knuckles and his face.
"Thought I lost you." He manages to muster up a smile. "Shoulda known you'd turn up like a bad penny."
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He comes forward, kicking a trashcan lid out of the way as he slings his right arm around Steve's shoulders.
"Come on. You're a mess; we've got to get you cleaned up before tonight."
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"You'll like this one. She's a real nice gal. Smart, too."
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A beat, as he considers something.
"Pretty, too. Red hair."
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"Listen, if you really don't want to go, I can cancel. We can see a movie or something instead."
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He's late. Late enough, in fact, that it's beginning to look like he'll miss the cartoons and things before the film itself.
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"At least we should see the newsreel, right?"
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"Yeah, we will, I promise -- here, get the seats, I'll run get popcorn for us, okay?"
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The newsreel's just starting to flicker.
"And now let's see the latest from our boys at the front!"
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"Our own Captain America and the brave Howling Commands sure have Jerry on the run!"
Steve sits up straighter. The narrator's cheerful delivery has a strangely forced tone--but how--why--
"That's not me," Steve whispers at the sight of the big man gesturing the other Commandos into the fray.
But it is Bucky.
It is Bucky on the screen, in the forests of Germany when he's supposed to be home, in Brooklyn, buying popcorn.
Steve looks down at his hands.
They seem bigger.
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Bucky turns and looks out of the screen, right at Steve.
"You couldn't help it. You couldn't help me. Don't blame yourself."
Blood's beginning to run down the side of his face, down his left arm, dripping from his fingertips and pooling at his feet.
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(In this body, his current body, the big body that still feels like a costume he will someday take off.)
"I failed you. All those times you saved me and when it mattered most I failed you. Of course I blame myself. I always will."
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He doesn't smile and doesn't move, even as the rest of the reel around him fades to white static.
"Finish the mission, Cap."
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Bucky raises a pistol from his side and points it at his best friend's face.
"It's you, Steve. It's always been you."
As the shot rings out, the theater goes black.
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It's so dark in the forests. Even the moon is hidden. The air smells of evergreen and water--Steve can hear the faint rumble of a river.
There's no familiar presence at his side. No Bucky, no Commandos.
Just his shield.
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No, wait.
There's a rustle coming from somewhere up ahead.
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