#my yapping

But let him lie awake at night staring at the ceiling, wondering what Hydra is doing to Bucky right now, a pit forming in his gut because he knows just how powerless he is to stop it.

Let Howard Stark invite him over to hold baby Tony for the first time. Let him hold that peaceful little bundle, and let him count down the days. Every breath, milestone, birthday, until that baby inevitably sacrifices himself.

Let him have some days where he can't even look his own wife and children in the face. Where he feels like a bird smashing around in his cage, wanting to claw out of his own skin because that itch to fight is still there. Primal. The kid from Brooklyn he took out back and killed is haunting him as a ghost and won't lay to rest.

Let him be a firefighter, his only relief. He needs to throw himself straight into the flames, he's gasping for air but its the only time since he came back he can truly breathe because he actually feels like himself again. Not someone's husband or father, but Steve Rogers. Fighter for the little guy.