Property of Steven G. Rogers

But somehow it’s all still filled with ideas and memories of his one love Bucky Barnes.

4th September 2014

me and Sam have been searching for him everyday. ive been having a little help from some of the avengers, i haven’t had the heart or frame of mind to keep you updated but i’m okay. he left me, he saved my life and then left, i know i broke through to him, his eyes completely changed when i said i’d be with him till the end, he remembered. He looked into my eyes and knew me, he remembered a hint of me.

i’ve been trying to track down what’s left of HYDRA also, we’ve found some old bases but no one was supplying them, i need to find rumlow, i know he played a part in Bucky’s torture. We got a lead on a big energy source out in sokovia, Tony thinks he’s found loki’s scepter so we are going to hunt that down soon. it’ll be good, i’ll have sam keep looking out for my buck but i’ll help save the universe as always.

It used to be a dull ache i’d cramp into my jean pocket or into the leather straps of my shield. i used to barely miss him and if i had the night where i was hearing his voice calling me to bed or feeling his hair run through my fingers, i’d pack it up, into boxes so big even my shoulders couldn’t lift them. then it got easier and i didn’t think about him, i would have just blinks of moments where i forgot what he looked like or how he said certain words but in the morning when i’d first wake up and the world hadn’t happened yet, i would feel him breathing next to me or hear him making porridge for me in the kitchen, i’d then rub my eyes and stretch my abnormal body and i would be back here in bed with just mission reports.

So now i know he’s alive. i am totally clueless as to where to step next, Tony has some big things happening but i cannot pull myself out of the search for him. Sam is helping but i just don’t know if it’s working, i have to leave him now to work alone because it’s just getting too much and Sam and Nick have put me on rest to prepare for what ever else attacks or planet.

I know he recognized me, on that ship. he saved my life and then left me on the side of the lake. i don’t know what to do with that other then fight to find him. i haven’t slept in a week because every possible second should be spent saving him like he saved me but it’s making me weak, Sam was able to beat me in training yesterday so the rest is needed.

But don’t you forget i am coming for all the monsters that ever touched him. i am coming for all the ones who twisted his stars into shadows. they turned him into a nightmare.

so natasha called.

Something is coming, something big, S.H.E.I.L.D has been compromised and Nicks gone, someone strong killed him. i was in pursuit of them but u couldn’t quite catch them.

i don’t really remember it.

Steve asked, the nurses asked, my soldiers asked but i just had no idea. I drew blanks thinking back to that day. i remember repeating my number, i remember Steve finding me and him being more then double his original size. i remember being scared, not for me but for Steve. As soon as i saw him and it all clicked i worried for him more then i ever did before because this time i wasn’t there to save him and help him through it. I hate to know Steve’s felt pain so knowing he felt it without me just crushes me.

Actually i remember dying. I remember feeling my skin being burnt off and prodded like some type of pin cushion. i remember the smell of my skin burning off, i haven’t been able to able to smell properly since. i tasted metal and parts of my gums and teeth were being crushed away. i could hear them calling me “subject” mixed with some language i couldn’t understand. i remember not being able to see, i wasn’t blindfolded, my body was failing me when i needed it most. i wish i hadn’t lived sometimes because as much as people disagree surviving is never beautiful. it’s not heroic like they tell you in fairytales or movies, it’s dirty. it’s tears streaming down my face and sobbing in a dark corner. It’s blood on my hands and on my face, it’s fear and feeling numb at the same time.

i would write about how much this war is taking from me. i could write about how this war has devoured its way through my skin and is now part of my blood. i could write how this war has stolen men way too soon.

When i got onto the plane, i was the cities best sniper and i was studying to get a better education so i could go on to support me and Steve but now i’m writing about the blood on my hands and the shadows in my vision. I am starting to become friends with death, he’s not longer undeniable, he’s staring me in the face and my god is he beautiful. i am not yet a corpse but i feel as if i’m beginning to rot. my fingers are stuck around the trigger most days and the war follows me into my sleep.

i want to know will i always taste or war? will battles still linger on my skin, stitched across my back. will i always be rebuilding bone by fragile bone?

Most men out here are scared to die, most women are sacred they’ll lose their husbands, fathers and brothers. but i’m scared to survive, death would be a welcomed escape from this hell on earth. i’m scared ill get home, remove my shoes and never put them back on. i’m scared ill get into bed and steve won’t know who i am. i’m scared that i’m too far gone to be worthy of Steve. if i tell him about what happened out here, about the darkness that has covered my soul, would he still look at me like i’m his sun? if i’m not getting the rest of my life, steve i want you to know. you were it, you were my big life plan.

I hope i get back to you Steve, you’re always the one i keep coming back too.

But if i don’t,

I want you to remember me curled up listening to the sound of your heartbeat and tracing maps across your skin. Remember me laughing at your jokes, even the stupid ones. Remember me in hysterics for absolutely no reason and in tears because one night you made me so sad neither of us thought i’d recover. Remember me brave, that time you held my hand and i thought i was going to die; remember me scared and gentle and delicate and breakable- only for you though, only for you. Steve, remember me happy, and all the ridiculous ways i tried to get your attention. Remember the way i was too stubborn to talk to you and how absolutely insane it drove both of us. Remember all the first and how we’re so delightful we went back for seconds and thirds and fourths. Remember the songs you couldn’t stop listening to and the childish dreams you allowed yourself about the future. If it’s any consolation i allowed myself to have them too.

if it comes to it i don’t want you to remember the ending.

I said after my last letter i’d struggle through and go unremembered, just kill to win.

but it’s been a few weeks and this war gives me a lot of time to think and write when i’m not inches from murder wether it’s the enemy’s or my own. So here i am, pencil in hand ready to tell you my story, a story of an unremarkable life, that up until this point has counted for nothing.

Part 1:

The war. The smell. The winter.

i used to spend winter cuddled up with Steve, feeding him soup and checking his temperature. but now i’m spending it crawling over lifeless soldiers, checking i’ve got enough ammo to last, making sure my men are safe.

i hated the idea of being out here, being used for parts, being torn apart and punctured. when my dad found out that i didn’t enlist with all my cousins he looked disappointed but he knew. he knew my fight wasn’t out there, i have this deep dark feeling that i’ve kept buried for years, and that feeling is that i’m not meant to save this world, i’m meant to rip it apart piece by piece and not leave any survivors.

From the first time my dad strapped a gun to my chest and scared me into taking a shot at the target i knew i was meant to be crashing the world under my feet. That’s how they found me, i spent years shooting with my dad and my cousins that targets became unmissable. i was the best sniper in New York by the time i was 17.

i don’t know who im writing this for anymore. steve has his letters. maybe im writing this to get found and published way in the future when no one knows who i am. maybe im writing this so im still remembered as New York’s best sniper. maybe im writing this so the world will know tiny steve rogers never went unloved. whatever reason im writing this, i hope you’re reading.

i hope you know, whoever you are, that i wanted a simple life, a life filled with covering steve’s face in good morning kisses, a life filled with listening to steve sketch, a life filled with more boat rides. I just wanted a life, freedom. It’s all far gone, a dream of hope is far gone under all these bodies.

it’s my first new years without him technically. i went from kissing his skin to mourning him in what felt like less then a week but realistically it was 70 years give or take.

on new years we’d treat ourselves, we’d spend the night of new year’s eve at the park where we met and then go back to my place and eat some dinner that my mum made, it was usually lasagne when buck was over, he’d play some music on the radio and we’d listen to all the rich people partying and just soak in eachother. we’d listen to the countdown and i’d muddle through, to be fair i needed a full 8 hours every night when i was small, so as soon as the clock hit 10:30pm i crashed but buck kept me going, he’d smother me in kisses and kept me dancing in his arms.

now when i think back to those days i just miss knowing he was always there. i miss the security. i miss the stupid fights that either made us shut up till next time or somehow made us stronger. i miss holding his hand, i miss him holding mine back. i miss him not holding mine. i miss his scruff and always being amazed that i walked away without severe beard burn. i miss night like those when we didn’t want to stop being with eachother. i miss getting so pissed at something he would say or do and trying to deal with on my own until he made me fess up. i miss surprising him. i miss being surprised by his glimpses of humanity every now and then. i miss the look he’d get when i’d touch his cheek. i miss how he thought he was so stealth with his mood swings when he really couldn’t hide them from me. i miss how i walkways knew where i stood, i think i miss his hugs the most, i didn’t need them often but now when i do, it sucks to know he’s not around to give them.

If i’m honest, he reminded me of all the little things in life.

like tea when it’s cold

and big sweaters to sleep in.

he reminded me of all the safe things in life,

like a hand to hold

and a shoulder to cry on.

he reminded me of all the reasons to take a chance,

like when things seem out of reach

and a place seems so far away.

he reminded me of all the beautiful things in life,

like the sky when the sun sets

me the way his face lit up when he smiled.

He reminded me of all the big events in life

like new year’s eve

So it’s Christmas day.

It was mine and Buck’s one year anniversary yesterday, he took me out to the docks, we got chips and just enjoyed soaking eachother in for a while before he walked me home. He said he couldn’t spend the night because he needed to be home for Rebecca, his parents had gone to spend a few weeks away but were due back late last night. I understood but it felt odd waking up without him this morning. My mum couldn’t really afford presents this year but she got me some new books which i have been making my way through already. Buck stopped by later in the afternoon and he’s now in the kitchen helping my mum prepare dessert , he brought me a new diary and some top of the line new pens which i hated because the short change he has should be spent on him but he insisted. We ate dinner as soon as he arrived and he told me all about how excited Rebecca was with her new dolls, he raised a toast, thanking my mum for creating such a beautiful boy that he loves, he made sure to thank the women who owns the local bakery and blessed the food before us before we tucked in.

i hope this lasts forever, i hope i spend my life listening to my soulmate and mother chatting away in the kitchen but if it doesn’t, if for some reason i lose this i hope Buck knows i’d dive into any ocean, climb any mountain just to make sure i’m by his side. if it doesn’t last now, we’ll meet again and it will last then, when we are both ready to love again.

He’s come up behind me now, he’s digging his head into my neck, he’s whispering in my ear. i’m right back where i feel most at home, in his arms. He’s feeding me christmas cookies fresh from the oven.

I love Christmas and i hope every one to come ends with me feeling most home.

Merry Christmas!

they aren’t wrong, it’s dreadful and burning but i didn’t just lose my best friend. i lost my partner, my boyfriend, my soulmate.

And that, that is more painful then watching the world crumble around me, it feels like i am stuck in the ocean and water starts crushing my lungs, i watching my life go past and simply avoiding living.

i don’t know where to put my hands, they belong tied up with his. I don’t know how to sketch night skies without his eyes being my muse. I don’t know how to sleep without laying in his arms. I just don’t know how to live.

Me and Buck made it into the local news paper today!

After Bucky famously fixed Mr Woodson’s boat single-handedly in just less then a month the news reporters have been following him for a few days.

We went to coney island to celebrate and the newspapers caught a photo of us on our way home. It was hard not walking in his arms but we don’t need a death threat on our hands.

since we’ve gotten back home, Buck has started making soup that smells delicious! He’s kissed me about 7 times since i slipped off my shoes. My mum has been in hospital 3 days now so it’s hard being here without her but me and Buck have been to see her everyday.

the house had been eerily quiet since mum died, it didn’t really feel like a home, just a house with walls and a window. Bucky made it feel like a home sometimes, he’d cook and play music so the silence wouldn’t swallow me whole. He’d help me eat my food on days where swallowing was a chore i dreaded to commit. He’d keep me curled into his arms when i was so drowned in grief, he’d cry too sometimes. He kept me alive and i kept him here.

I knew that day would come the second the newspaper hit the doorstep, i knew he’d eventually leave to do for the country what he’s always done for me. i just didn’t think it’d be before his life began. I mean yeah he was the best sniper before the age of 17 so it was clear as day he’d be needed out there on the front but i didn’t expect the letter to be in my hands so soon.

The Stark expo was the perfect way to say goodbye, seeing something that gave us both so much hope for the future but deep down knowing there’s a chance he won’t return to see it. I’m just waiting for the telegram or for him to walk through the door and make this house a home again.

Until then ill do what i can to help, i met this guy Erskine after the expo and he said he’d help me. I’m willing to try anything to keep Bucky safe and to make my parents proud.

But for now, i’m going to heat up some soup that Bucky no doubt left in my freezer and go to sleep without him.

It’ll be hard, sleeping without him, knowing he’s not sleeping, knowing he’s probably already killed, knowing he could be dead but ill try for him because what if this war ends tomorrow and he’s back soon, i’ve got to keep my energy up so i can spend that time leaving kisses all over his body.

i dreamt of him last night. He asked me “what’s your biggest mistake?”

i reached for his hands, but i woke up before i could answer him. And even though i knew he couldn’t hear me then. i still said it aloud. “You, letting you fall. It will always be you”