Remember Me

I look at Steve as he pulls a third stool over, sitting on it and leaning towards me as I sit on the stool I was sitting in before he came in. Natasha comes up behind him, setting her hand on his shoulder as he looks at me.

“Well?” He says, resting his elbows on his knees.

I scoff.
“What do you mean ‘well’?” I spit back. “I read the articles and I talked to the military about you Steve. You crashed into the ocean and died, so how the hell am I talking to you right now?”

He takes a deep breath.
“It’s complicated.” He says as he exhales. “I was frozen and recovered by S.H.I.E.L.D.—a government agency.”

He looks up at Natasha for a moment before looking back at me.
“I’ve been unfrozen for about three years now.” He says quietly.

I nod, breathing in shakily.

“Your turn.” He continues, raising his eyebrows at me.

I look away, fiddling with my fingers as I clear my throat.
“Well, you and Bucky went away to war, and I was left behind.” I say quietly. “And when I received a letter that somehow both of you had been killed in action… I didn’t necessarily believe it.”

Steve nods out of the corner of my eye, and I look down at my hands.
“I saw the news that you’d been in a plane crash, so I went to your station. Peggy Carter told me what happened to you.” I say, my eyes flitting to him for a second before going back to my fingers. “But no one had a solid answer on Bucky. He’d fallen from a train? But no one could find his body?”

Steve nods slower this time, dropping his own eyes as he does.
“I didn’t believe it.” I tell him, shaking my head. “So Peggy and I dug deeper, and that led us to Hydra.”

His eyes dart back to me. Natasha still says nothing.
“We pushed and fought and found out what they’d done to him.” I say, my voice breaking slightly. “But time wasn’t on our side. They could put Bucky on ice for years, hiding him and thawing him out when they needed to use him again. Peggy and I were only getting older.”

I finally meet his gaze as I look between his eyes and Natasha’s.
“So we met with scientists, and they engineered something similar to the serum that you and Bucky both have.” I tell them, and Steve’s eyes widen. “I’m not as strong or as fast as you, but I don’t age regularly, and I heal quickly.”

Natasha nods, and Steve just stares at me.
“And then I just spent the rest of my time tracking him down.” I say, dropping my eyes again as my volume drops too. “Years of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or the right place but the wrong time. Years of being moments too late or steps behind.”

Steve nods again out of the corner of my eye.
“I know what you mean.” He says after a moment, his voice just as quiet as mine. “I’ve been tracking him down for the last year and a half, that’s when I found out he was alive.”

I look up at him then.
“How did we never cross paths?” I ask.

He shakes his head.
“I was wondering the same.” He says quietly. “And how didn’t you know that I was alive when I’ve been ‘Captain America’ ever since I came back?”

I laugh, running my hands through my hair.
“Turns out no one in Siberia gives a shit about Captain America Steve.” I say, eliciting a laugh from Natasha with that statement.

“So you guys were friends?” Natasha asks, finally sitting on the stool beside Steve. “In the 40’s?”
I nod, and Steve does too.
“Neighbors actually.” I answer. “Since we were kids.”

She nods, processing the information.
“And how does the Russian killer fit into that picture?” She asks. “I know him and wonder boy were friends, and that makes you…?”

“His girlfriend.” I say flatly, looking right past her face at the blank wall. “I was his girlfriend, I mean.”

I see her head duck in a slow nod as I slide my hand into my pocket. My unusually empty pocket.

“No.” I whisper, standing up immediately. “No, no, no.”
I turn the pocket inside out before frantically doing the same to the other.

“What?” Steve asks, standing up too and hovering in front of me.

I plunge my hands into the pockets of my jacket, finding them to be painfully empty as well.
“Shit. Shit!” I scream, locking my hands onto the sides of my head. “I need you to take me back to that building. Please.”

Natasha stands up then, taking a step towards me.
“For what?” She asks, her eyes narrowing.

My breathing is frantic as I look at her.
“I dropped something, please take me back.” I beg her, not caring if she thinks I’m weak. “I won’t run, you can keep me here as long as you want, just please take me back.”

Natasha turns to look at Steve, and Steve nods at her once. She exhales as she picks the cuffs back up, and I turn on my heels, offering my hands to her behind my back. She puts them on looser than before, and lets me walk myself between her and Steve to the door.

“The building went down Liz.” She says as she presses the code into the keypad. “There’s no guarantee that there will even be anything left for you to find.”

I swallow hard, nodding as I blink back the tears stinging in my eyes. I won’t let them see me cry.

This time I don’t pay attention as we snake down the halls, finally getting into the elevator at the end. I follow Steve and Natasha as they lead me to a small, black car, and Natasha undoes the cuffs as she puts me in the back seat.

“Do not tell Tony I let you out without the cuffs.” She says as she gets into the drivers seat. “He’d kick my ass.”

Steve laughs once as Natasha peels out of the garage.
“He’d try.” He says, reaching his hand out to her.

She smiles at him as she sets her hand in his, and his fingers lock around hers. My stomach lurches at the gesture, and I silently will Natasha to drive faster.

Finally, we make it to the ruins of the building, and I swing the car door open before we even come to a complete stop, running towards the smoking rubble in front of us. I hear Steve and Natasha’s footsteps behind me as I run, but I don’t wait for them as my boots crunch onto the charcoaled wood and brick that used to be the building.

“What’re we looking for?” Steve asks, his footsteps falling close behind me.

My eyes are trained on the rubble as I kick through it, looking frantically.
“A pouch.” I answer, slightly yelling it over my shoulder. “Small, leather.”

I kick another pile of charred wood, and it instantly turns to dust beneath my boot. We continue searching in the dark for hours, and eventually the sun begins to rise over the decimated building. My heart only sinks more and more as the time ticks by, not finding my pouch in the remains.

“Liz?” Natasha says, and I stand up, looking over at her as I exhale tiredly. “Is this it?”

She holds up the small leather pouch, covered in soot. A small cry escapes my lips as I nod, running over to her as my shoes crunch over the ground. She hands me the pouch, and I crush it against my chest before opening it to check the contents.

The small, yellowing, black and white picture remains inside, completely unharmed.

“What is it?” Steve asks, looking down at me.
I sigh, knowing I owe them both an explanation.
“A picture.” I answer, carefully pulling it out of the pouch and handing it to Steve. “You took it.”

The picture shows Bucky in his army uniform, young and clean shaven as we stand outside the train station. My arms are around his shoulders, holding him tightly as he pulls me close. In his careful script along the front of the picture, it reads, “To my Doll, Wait for me? Yours, Bucky.”

He tilts it slightly to show Natasha, and she rests her hand on his arm lightly as she looks at it.
“I’m glad we found it.” She says quietly.

I nod, and Steve hands the picture back.
“We took that the day you two left.” I say quietly. “Do you remember?”

Steve nods, smiling at me sadly.
“I do.” He answers. “He almost tried to appeal his orders the night before to stay with you, but decided against it at the last minute.”

I laugh lightly as I slide the picture back into the pouch, carefully putting it into the zipper pocket inside my jacket.
“He wanted to help people.” I say quietly, stepping past them as I step out of the wreckage of the building.

Neither of them say anything as they follow me back to the car, and I silently get into the backseat, keeping to my word of not resisting. The drive back to the compound is quiet, and I look out the window as we drive.

Natasha doesn’t put the cuffs back on as we park the car, but I walk between her and Steve as we go back to the elevator. This time, she presses a different button and the elevator goes up.

“Where are we going?” I ask as the doors open.

She leads us down a hall, opening a door and flipping a light on.
“Your room.” She says, passing me a key. “You aren’t a prisoner.”

I look around the small room, finding a bed, a TV, a window, a nightstand, a small desk, a closet, and a bathroom inside.

“But, if you leave without letting us know, we are pretty good and hunting people down.” She says with a wink. “Just saying.”

I crack a small smile, using two fingers to cross my heart dramatically as I look back at her.
“Thanks for helping me.” I say, looking between her and Steve. “You didn’t have to do that.”

She nods, sliding her fingers down Steve’s arm to lace them between his.

“You should get some rest.” Steve says. “Press this button when you wake up and ask for me, I’ll come find you.”

He points to a button on the wall near the TV, and I nod. He and Natasha leave the room, and I walk to the bathroom, stripping out of the soot-covered clothes.

I find a set of pajamas on the towel rack, and silently thank whoever put them there as I run the shower. I unwrap the bandage on my arm as the water heats up, filling the bathroom with steam. The skin is already a pale pink, new over the exposed flesh and tissue.

I get into the hot water, letting it pour over me and relax my muscles as I use the expensive, good smelling soaps to wash the mess out of my hair and off of my skin. I stay in the shower until the water runs cold before getting out and wrapping one of the plush, white towels around my body.

It’s so soft that I stay in it, grabbing my pouch and walking to the bed before climbing under the blankets in just the towel. The bed is the most comfortable that I’ve been in in years, and my eyes get heavy as I pull the comforter up close to my face.

I close my eyes, clutching the leather pouch close to my chest as I drift off into a dreamless sleep.