eighty-four.
"You just don't know when to give up, do you?"
"I could do this all day."
Steve focused solely on the punching bag in front of him. He wasn't worried about being back at Avengers HQ and he wasn't worried about Becca sitting with Nat by the door and he wasn't worried about being in the same building as Tony Stark.
He was worried about Bucky, and he was worried about Peter and today his anxiety was flaring up and he was remembering too much from before and it's not really what he needed to be doing today.
"Sometimes I think you like getting punched."
"I had him on the ropes."
Steve didn't know what he could have been thinking back then. He was 5'7" and 110 pounds soaking wet. He was lucky enough to even know how to throw a punch in the first place, but take a guy down? That'd be a damned miracle.
Hence why it never happened.
"Where are we going?"
"The future."
He remembered the smile on Bucky's face. He remembered how excited Bucky had been to see all of the science and technology. He knew this was also Bucky's last chance to chaperone those girls on their dates, and Bucky wasn't going to let them down.
He remembers Howard Stark's floating car and the amazement on Bucky's face... But he also remembers not being excited or able to focus, as he knew it was Bucky's final night in Brooklyn.
"You're really gonna do this now?"
"It's a fair. I'm gonna try my luck."
He remembers feeling like he might really get lucky this time, even though that wasn't the point, to begin with. He remembers Bucky looking all suave in his uniform and he remembers being fucking terrified at the fact that Bucky might leave and never come back.
"As who? "Steve from Ohio"? They'll catch you. Or worse, they'll actually take you."
"You don't think I can do it."
He thinks maybe he should have given up, but he can't help but wonder what would've happened to Bucky if he had. Bucky probably never would have made it out of the Hydra base, to begin with, and if he did, maybe he would've lived through the train ride.
Well, lived with both arms that is. Sometimes Steve forgets that Bucky didn't actually die. Sometimes he wishes that Bucky would've died, just so he could've been free from all of the bullshit.
"This isn't some back alley, Steve. It's a war. Why are you so keen to fight? There're lots of other important jobs-"
"You want me to sit in a factory? Collect scrap metal in my little red wagon while men are laying down their lives? I can do as well as them and I got no right to do any less."
For once, he'd been right and he knew it based solely on the look of what could've been resign on Bucky's face. He didn't have any goddamn right to do anything less than the other men laying down their lives for the good of their families, their country.
He had no right to do any less than Bucky.
"That's the thing you don't get, Bucky. It's not about me."
"Right. 'Cause you've got nothin' to prove."
Bucky was so clearly annoyed with him and his never-ending battle to be a part of the chaos. To have a spot in the line to defend the country. To have a place to defend Bucky, even though Bucky didn't need a scrawny kid looking after him.
He stopped assaulting the punching bag in favor of trying to catch his breath and wiping the sweat from his brow. Nat strode over, hips commanding the attention of the room, even though they were the only ones in it.
She pushed a bottle of water into his hands and sighed softly.
"How much longer are you going to try and kill yourself in here?"
He took a sip of the water and looked down at her, into her gentle eyes. He shrugged a little and she just sighed.
"Steve, you can't keep punishing yourself for the past. It's over, and there's nothing you can do to change it."
"No, but I need to do something about the "right now". About Peter, about Bruce, about Rumlow. All of it."
"Bucky is with Peter. Let him worry about that for now. Worry about what you can do right now. Bruce, and Rumlow. Those are your options."
He lets out a heavy breath. "Which one's easier?"
She gives him a smile. "Rumlow. Dealing with Bruce will always be harder because he was your friend."
Steve nods, and they make their way back to Brooklyn. It's been a very long time since Steve straight up killed anyone, but he supposes it's never too late to start giving these Hydra assholes what they deserve.
Nat's knife was carefully strapped to her thigh like it usually was and as they pulled into the dirt parking area, Steve reached over and pulled it out of its holster and checked to make sure it was loaded.
They exited the car with no care for closing the doors and strode into the building.
Natasha flipped the switch and the lights turned on with an audible clank... And Steve didn't know what else to do but yell in pure rage as he stared at the chair in the middle of the room.
And realized that it was empty.