Last Thoughts
Above the Northern Atlantic
January 1944
Steve Rogers knew he was about to die.
He knew it as he spoke his last words to Peggy Carter. He knew it as he drove the plane nose-first into the ground. He knew it as he watched the picture of the woman he thought he might love go flying from the console on impact.
But it was not a clean death. Half-conscious, half-dead, Steve rolled himself onto his back on the floor behind the captain’s chair. His stolen flagship, crashing from the sky. A bitter smile twitched on his lips as his eyes slipped closed. It was fitting for an experiment, a made thing. And better that he end this way. Who would love him anyway? She’d have woken up in a week or a month or a year or three and thought, What am I doing? He’s a lab rat escaped from his cage and gone on to find another man. A normal one, who could give her all he couldn’t.
As Steve Rogers slipped into darkness (Captain America had died on impact, instantly gone) his one regret was that he hadn’t managed to save Bucky along with the rest of the world.
His last thought was I hope someone else can continue my job, fixing the wrongs in this fucked-up world.