The Glory Days

Steve was on top of the world. He had taken his role as Captain America to a whole new level and was doing right by his country, defeating regimes of Hydra soldiers with his handpicked team.

Steve couldn’t put into words how thankful he was that Bucky was still alive. When he found him on that examination table looking beat up and so far gone, but still breathing and conscious, it was like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. He was so grateful that his friend was still with him.

Now there remained only one thing – one person – who was missing, and he missed her more than he could think possible. Her picture in his pocket watch just wasn’t enough to soothe him. He missed her sweet laugh, the way her smile could light up a room, how soft her hands would feel when they would brush up against his own. He could go on and on about what he loved about her. She was beautiful, inside and out. In every way possible, to him, she was perfection.

I wonder what Bridget’s doing right now? He found himself wondering. It was a question that he thought of often as it had been a few good months since he started to fight the good fight. During all this time, he had been so busy, so focused on defeating Schmidt and his armies, that he never really had any time to send her letters. Always fighting, always protecting, and he couldn’t put down the shield he received from Stark for the life of him. It wasn’t to say that he hadn’t tried to start one – he had a stash of at least thirty undelivered letters in a shoe box, it was just that they never came out the way he wanted them to.

“Remember when I made you ride the Cyclone at Coney Island?”

Bucky’s voice snapped Steve out of his daydreaming and he gave a slight nod. “Yeah, and I threw up?”

“This isn’t payback, is it?”

Smirking, Steve looked at the scene before him. They stood on the side of a mountain, the wind howling softly in their ears, and a thick wire cable spanning from their cliff to another adjacent mountainside. The plan was to hop aboard the train that Hydra biochemist, Arnim Zola, was on and take him. Well, that was if he was on board. “Now why would I do that?” Steve questioned, feigning innocence.

“We were right, Zola’s on the train.” Gabe said, looking over to Steve from the radio transmitter. “He just received permission to open up the throttle. Wherever he’s going, they must need him bad.”

Steve began to get ready, hooking his gear onto the cable quickly as they were informed the train was coming into sight. “We’ve only got about a ten second window. We miss that window… we’re bugs on a windshield.”

Dum Dum laughed to himself, “Better get moving, bugs!”

There was a shout and Steve jumped off the cliff, slinging down the cable with Bucky and a few others following right after him, the sound of the cable speeding by whirring in his ears. When he was within reach of the train, he let go of the handle bars, falling and landing onto the top of the rail-cars smoothly. He wasn’t going to lie, he was glad to have his feet touching something again.

They all stealthily moved forward a few rail-cars, climbing down the ladder on the side of one and entering what they thought to be the weapons’ compartment. As Steve quietly moved into the next carriage, the door automatically slid shut, separating him and Bucky from one another.

A man, heavily clad in Hydra armor and weaponry, came out from the hallway, charging his guns and taking aim at Steve. In the other car, a man began to shoot at Bucky, who quickly took shelter behind a few crates, not hesitating to return fire. Gun shots rang throughout the car, and soon Bucky was out of ammo with his machine gun, tossing it to the side and using a 9mm handgun instead.

Steve finished off his opponent in no time at all, deflecting shots with his shield and using it to knock the man unconscious. The Captain took off towards the door, heading back towards Bucky and saw him taking cover behind the crates, looking frustrated as he ran out of ammo once more. Steve unholstered his own 9mm and opened the door, tossing the weapon to Bucky when he realized who it was.

He took off running towards a crate, shoving it forwards on the shelf to make the Hydra lackey dodge in Bucky’s direction, allowing himself to be open for fire. Bucky took the shot immediately, killing off the man and him and his friend breathing easily.

“I had him on the ropes,” Bucky sighed out.

“I know you did,” There was a sound of a Hydra weapon charging and they both turned to see another heavily clad man standing in the hallway. “Get down!” Steve ordered, shielding them both with his weapon, deflecting the attack to the side, causing the rail-car’s wall to burst open.

Steve had been pushed to the other side of the car, and Bucky on the floor beside Steve’s shield. Picking up the shield and the gun, he started firing off at the man. Another shot was fired off from the Hydra weapon, the impact dealing a great amount of force and knocking Bucky back. The Captain jumped up, taking his shield that Bucky had dropped and tossing it at the guard.

“Bucky!” Steve called, running to the side of the car and beginning to shimmy his way over to James who was hanging onto part of the train for his life. “Hang on!” Going a little further, he reached out to him. “Grab my hand!” The metal moaned from Bucky’s weight and Steve grew nervous as he thought the metal might not hold, his heart dropping as he watched his friend begin to free-fall into the crevasse when it didn’t. “NO!”

The only thing that could be heard after Bucky’s scream ceased echoing in the mountains, was the sound of Steven Rogers as he mourned the death of his closest friend.

* * *


Peggy walked through the rubble and debris on the streets of a London neighborhood. They had just been bombed moments prior, and the Blackout was still in effect, keeping every civilian inside their home, making her the only person out and about. Stepping into what used to be an old pub, she saw Steve drinking away a bottle of liquor, pouring the last shot he could get from the bottle and tossing it to the side when he was finished.

As he heard her come in, he looked over his shoulder though returned his attention to the table. “Dr. Erskine said that the serum wouldn’t just affect my muscles, but my cells, too, creating a protective system of regeneration and healing, which means, um… I can’t get drunk.” He sighed, his voice husky and low as he spoke. “Did you know that?”

“Your metabolism burns four times faster than the average person. He thought it could be one of the side effects.” She said as she sat down across from him, looking him dead in the eye. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Did you read the report?”

“Yes.”

“Then you know that’s not true.”

“You did everything you could. Did you believe in your friend, did you respect him?” She questioned, Steve looking up to meet her burning gaze. “Then stop blaming yourself. Allow Barnes the dignity of his choice. He damn well must have thought that you were worth it.”

“I’m going after Schmidt. I’m not going to stop until all of Hydra’s dead or captured.”

Peggy smiled. “We’ll be with you the entire way.” She rose from her seat, draping her coat around her shoulders. “However, we’ve run out of leads on Schmidt’s base. We’ve already got people working on finding it though, along with those who are already interrogating Zola. I’m afraid that there won’t be much to do until we find it. Colonel Phillips, myself, and your crew think it would be in your best interest to return home for now, clear your head.”

“What?” He questioned, standing up from the table himself. “No, no, I can’t. I won’t. I’ll help you look for Schmidt.”

“There’s not much that you could do, Steve. I’m sorry, but this isn’t me asking you to leave. This is me giving you orders from Phillips. Your plane back to New York leaves tonight and you’re to be on it.” Peggy reached into her pocket, pulling out a piece of paper and handing it to Steve along with travel papers. “Go ahead and visit this address immediately when you arrive back. This is another order.”

“From Phillips?”

“From me,”

His eyes remained on the Brooklyn address, wondering where Carter could be sending him when he arrived back on American soil. Sighing, he figured that he would find out when he got there.

After a lengthy flight and a bumpy cab ride to the address, he climbed the steps into the apartment building, heading to flat 208. As he reached the door, he gently knocked upon it, crossing his arms as he waited for a response. The door’s lock was being undone and he stood up straighter, his eyes widening when he saw Bridget standing in the door frame.

Bridget, herself, couldn’t believe that Steve was standing before her. Part of her wondered if this were another one of her crazy dreams, but she concluded that it was in fact reality after she secretly pinched herself behind her back. She couldn’t believe that he was back, safe and sound…

She couldn’t believe that he didn’t send even one letter!

The simple thought of all the days that had passed where she had done nothing but mope around, worried sick wondering if he was alive or dead, ran through her mind, and before she even registered what she was doing, her hand slapped him across the face, the smack resounding in the hallway.

“That’s for never writing, asshole!” She screamed, slamming the door in his face.

Steve gently cupped his reddening cheek in shock of what she did. He definitely wasn’t expecting that reaction to his sudden reappearance. “Bridget, can’t we talk about this?”

“Talk about what?—The fact that I never received one single word from you? Don’t you know how worried I was, Steve? I was starting to think that you were never coming back!” She yelled from the other side of the door. “You could’ve just sent me the word ‘alive’ and I’d feel much better about this right now!”

Sighing, Steve leaned his forehead on her door. “I’m sorry, Bridget. I tried writing you, but I just could never bring myself to send them to you. I didn’t like the way they came out whenever I wrote them.”

There was no response and Steve figured she wasn’t going to talk to him anymore, so he stood upright and began to turn to leave. The door swung open and Steve was forced back as she jumped him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck and her lips pressed upon his own.

After all this time, she had thought and thought about Steve nonstop, and after having days and months of contemplation, she knew that she loved him. She loved him more than she loved anyone else. He was the person who mattered the most to her. She didn’t want to live without him, and now that he was back, she was going to make her feelings known, even if he didn’t reciprocate them.

Steve dropped the bag that was on his shoulder, wrapping his own arms around her waist and hugging her tightly in their embrace. This was more than he could have ever imagined coming back to. It was like a dream. Bridget Spencer, the girl he had loved since he was a kid, was kissing him.

When the two pulled away, they stared at one another in awe, their foreheads pressed together and their breath ragged and hot. Bridget slowly pulled away, taking baby steps into her apartment and pulling Steve inside with her. Steve’s bag was then pushed inside with his foot and the two stood looking at one another, verifying that this was actually happening.

Bridget walked past him and into her kitchen. “You must be thirsty, or are you hungry? When was the last time you ate? Or are you tired? Would you like to take a nap on my bed or couch?” She bombarded him with questions as a way to keep herself off him, and he smiled at how nervous she seemed to be. He was the same way deep down inside.

“Water would be great, thanks. I’m a little parched.” He softly replied. “A nap can wait; I’m feeling much more awake now.”

Bridget nodded her head as she fetched him a glass of water, handing it to him and guiding him towards her small sofa to let him relax for a bit. She watched him curiously as he downed the drink in a matter of seconds, and she inquired if he’d like another glass immediately.

“No, thanks, Bridget,” he chuckled.

“So how have you been? Where have you been?” She questioned. “Did Bucky come back home with you?”

“All over Europe,” Steve answered, his voice low as Bucky was brought into the conversation. “And… Bucky died. He was killed in action on the last mission.”

Bridget’s throat went dry and she felt stupid for having brought him up. “Steve, I’m sorry to have brought him up. He was a great guy, a great friend.” She murmured softly, resting a hand upon his own to soothe the emotions that she knew were going on a rampage inside of him. Steve could only nod his head, still trying to bear with the loss of his friend.

“Steve,”

He looked up and met her concerned gaze with his blue eyes. “Yeah?”

“I can’t say that I know what happened because I don’t, but I’m more than positive that he was proud to have gone out fighting with you.”

Steve buried his head into the nook of her neck, pulling her into his lap and wrapping his arms around her waist while hers went back around his neck. “Thanks, Bridge, can you… just hold me like this for a while?”

Bridget smiled sadly and kissed the top of his head. “As long as you want me to,” she whispered. “I’ll always be here with you. You’re not alone.”

Notes

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