Monster

I knew I was in a nightmare the moment I saw him. When I stood there amongst the rubble and broken bodies. When all I could hear was the screaming and that fading ringing. I could feel the heat of fire and the prickles of burns across my cheek. And for a brief moment I forgot that it wasn’t real.

Until the smoke parted and the screaming stopped and all I could see was the man with the dark, emotionless eyes, and arm made of exposed metal. He walked with measured steps as if he knew exactly where to go and what to do. I was his mission.

Steve told me everything he could about what happened in the skies over DC. About how Bucky had been instructed to kill Steve. I believed with everything I had that this was the mission that caused The Winter Soldier’s unraveling. But I could see it very clearly in his face as he walked toward me. This was not the man who had eaten pizza in my kitchen. Or the man who’d expressed his fears and confusion on my living room couch. This was The Winter Soldier, killer, ghost.

He stopped just before me and lifted a long barreled sniper rifle. He could have shot me from afar and he would have been done with his mission. But he wanted me to see him before he pulled the trigger. He wanted me to know, or maybe they did, that his mission was always going to be more important than me.

Maybe it was a test to me. He wanted me to pull my own trigger. I had my gun held against my chest, ready to be used. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It didn’t matter if my life was in danger or if he was a perfect stranger. I couldn’t kill him. But I knew my life wasn’t in any danger because I knew I was dreaming. And he wasn’t a stranger. He was Bucky. I didn’t know him well enough, but I knew that his mind was fragmented and I could see his desire to be that man again. To be everything other than the man they had made him.

But the man in front of me intended to be that creation. His eyes were as cold as ice and that mouth that had been born to smile was set in a firm straight line. He wanted me to shoot, or to shoot me. I couldn’t decide, but I stood straight and looked into his face.

“I won’t shoot you,” I said.

Then he snarled and lifted the gun so the barrel pointed at the scar on my shoulder. He pulled the trigger and I jumped up in a shout. My shoulder rocked with pain and I rubbed my hand over the skin. I counted my breaths. One, two, three, four.

I was in my bed at home. My room was dark, but my bed was empty. Steve had gone to bed with me. I hissed and rubbed the pain from my shoulder and then I stood to my feet. My house was quiet and the hallway was dark, so I stepped out and called his name.

“Steve?”

There was no response. Steve hardly slept so even if he was on the couch he would have heard me. And I was certain my shout was loud enough to wake him up.

I crept to the staircase and looked down in to the abyss of darkness that was my living room. There was a nervous twinge in my stomach. Steve had come back last night, hadn’t he? Did I dream that too? Did I dream all of it? Was I losing my mind again?

I headed down the stairs and flicked on the light at the bottom of the staircase. A lamp in the corner of the room was illuminated but the living room was empty. It didn’t appear as if anyone had slept on the couch. The quilt was still neatly folded over the back where I had left it. So I turned down the hall and finally spotted him. The back door was open but the screen was closed and I could see the silhouette of his body against my neighbor’s porch light.

I stepped toward him and opened the screen. Then I took a seat beside him and crossed my arms to fight off the chill. It wasn’t a cold night, but I was always cold and my skin prickled against the temperature.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

“Nightmares,” I replied. “What about you? Doesn’t look like you even tried.”

“Something tripped the neighbor’s porch light. I know it was probably a cat or Rocket. But… I came out here anyway. Sometimes I come out here when you’re asleep. Maybe I’m just hoping he’s listening.”

“Do you think you’ll ever get him back?” He took a moment to answer as he breathed out slowly and evenly and looked out over my small yard. Then he moved his arm and wrapped it around me so that I could steal his warmth. I rested my head on his shoulder and felt my body relax.

“No,” he finally said slowly. “But I think you will.”

“Does it bother you that he came to me first?”

“No, I just want him to be safe. And I think you’re the right person for the job.”

“You finally trust me,” I whispered.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Thank you for being here, Steve. I know that… I’m not the person you want to be here with. But thank you anyway.” He turned and planted a kiss on the side of my head. It didn’t feel like a false relationship kiss. It felt like it was meant for me, but there was no romance or attraction. I didn’t know how to explain it, but it felt nice.

Notes