Epilogue
Watching the Gladiators fight was the delight of many. Not only that but watching any of the games was a delight. The hunt of wild animals. Races of powerful chariots. The reenactments of historical fights. All of it was an incredible sight to see, even with the graphic end. And Steve had known for a long time he wanted to be one. Since the first time his and Bucky’s father had taken them both to see the games they had been enamoured with it. Dramatically acting out their own battles in the street with toy swords, which were just sticks since they couldn’t exactly afford proper toy swords.
He and Bucky were best friends, inseparable from each other's side. They were one soul that was placed within two bodies, constantly running to the other. And together they had decided they would be gladiators, Steve declared himself a Secutor, and Bucky joined him. Bucky followed Steve in everything, though he was taller, stronger and healthier than Steve, it was Steve who guided the two, Bucky seeing himself as Steve’s guard Gods knew he needed one.
Really, everyone knew Steve had no chance of ever becoming a gladiator. He was sick constantly, he was weak and skinny no matter what he did, his lungs could barely take in air regularly, never mind when he was running. Now Bucky, he had a chance, the boy was big and strong, he could run like the wind and fight like lightning. Despite how little he ate due to income he still retained an impressive amount of muscle, truly the boy must have been gifted by the Gods and if he trained enough, he could become that gladiator.
But nothing is ever so kind. All it took was one general passing through seeing Bucky, and that was it. At the age of 16 he was conscripted to join Rome's army and aid in its never-ending conquest. Steve had hugged him goodbye, proud of his friend's strength but sad he couldn’t come too.
He didn’t understand yet why Bucky’s mother broke down and wept as he left, he just assumed it was something about maternal instinct.
Weeks went by, then months, and he saw nothing of Bucky. His heart reached out for its other half, but there was only a cold empty space left, his warmth not even lingering anymore.
Then the world broke. Steve only found out when he heard wailing from the Barnes apartment. Bucky was dead, killed in a frozen valley when being shoved from a height, there wasn’t even a body left to burn or bury. Steve grieved more than he did for his own father when he passed in the same way, his soul would forever be in half now, nothing to hold ever again.
In this grief an opportunity came to him. A chance to make Bucky proud and keep both of their families alive and well. Abraham Erskine. A man of religion and science, mixing herbs and chemicals into a strange concoction. He promised him strength and power, and Steve agreed.
And to his eternal surprise, it worked.