Gamer

The thing about happiness is that you only know you had it when it's gone. I mean, you may think to yourself that you're happy. But you don't really believe it. You focus on the petty bullshit, or the next job, or whatever. It's only looking back by comparison with what comes after that you really understand, that's what happiness felt like. *

...when someone steals your car and kill a person, is it your fault, or the thief?

You'll kill an innocent man, Buck. You chase the wrong person. He's not the one to blame for all of this...

I looked straight into the brown eyes, life was escaping them. He knew exactly what was going on, he knew he was dying. Have I made a mistake? Steve will never forgive me, when he finds out. Innocent. I loosened my grip and let Stark to breathe greedily, and then I withdrew my hand. I should take him to the Headhunters hideout. No. That would only delay the execution. Why I won't strangle him then? Relieve him from suffering... Whole hatred in me vanished within a few seconds. I sat on the edge of the couch and stared blankly at him, at my worst enemy, not knowing what to do. Phone belonged to Crossbones. JARVIS was calling him, he asked for help. JARVIS got the card to LIMBO just like me. Card was coming from red-haired beautie. That woman saved me from the Arena and made me work for her. It's all connected... I didn't understand...

"Where's the first aid kit?" I asked, but my own voice seemed distant. JARVIS had to be in shock, 'cause he didn't answer for a long time.

"In the cabinet, on the left side of the desk in a corner."

I left Stark for a moment to bring a first aid kit. It was small and its contents also weren't impressive. It's not enough. Really I was going to help him after all of this? I stopped in front of the couch and moved my gaze from kit to Stark. He was in the same position in which I left him, watching me. Fear filled his eyes. Silence was disturbed by sudden bang, the floor shook. I looked around, but saw nothing. Earthquake? No.

"They are here. Please... I beg you, take him with you. Hide him, don't let him get hurt. Help him, he is our last hope," JARVIS pleaded, standing at the back of the couch. "Please..."

"Who are they?" I asked, still looking at Stark. He was already one foot in the grave, how can I help him? Why would I do that? Why I won't kill him? I threw a first aid kit on his stomach. I slipped one hand under his knees and with the other I embraced his shoulders, picking him up. Although I lost weight and a lot of strength, Stark seemed to be light as feather. He looked at me suspiciously, he was afraid, didn't know what he can expect from me. "Doesn't matter. Any other way out of here?"

"It's on the ground floor, you will get there through emergency stairs right by the elevator..." JARVIS ran to broken glass doors. I followed him. He didn't come further though. I frowned at him. "I'll try to stop them somehow. They're the terrorists, the same who stole the weapons and blew up half the world."

"You're only a hologram, how you want to stop them?"

"I have a few tricks up my sleeve..."

When I got outside I heard an explosion. Fire filled the emergency exit from which I came. For a moment I stood in place, doubt crawling under my skin. Will this whole JARVIS be ok? Well, I knew it was just a hologram, but still... Why I'm worrying about him? I glanced down at the man I held in my arms. Either he fell asleep or lost consciousness. He looked so peaceful it was hard for me to believe that because of him, the world now looks as it looks. He rested his head on my shoulder, lightly frowning and moving his lips. His cheeks were flushed, fresh beads of sweat gathered on his forehead and under his eyes there were dark circles. Still trembled, he had a severe fever, in addition terribly smelled of blood and pus. His arm didn't look too good. This first aid kit won't help in anything, he could use a doctor. I won't find a doctor anywhere now, I can't even ask Steve for help. Stark can't stay in this area, they will find him. Just kill him, he won't make it, said the voice in my head. I gritted my teeth and took a step forward, then another and another. I turned off the thinking and let my own legs lead the way.

I found myself in front of the pharmacy's broken window. Tentatively, I looked around, we were still in the Headhunters area. Seemed I was alone. I crossed the broken door and walked in. The shelves were almost empty, but I might find something useful... Carefully I put down Stark on the table and began to search through drawers. Some were tightly locked, but it's no challenge for me to open the lock, right? I gripped the edge of the drawer with my left hand, the wood immediately cracked, revealing its contents. I found there a set of syringes and three bottles of morphine. I also managed to find two packets of bandages, a few packs of different tablets, sponge, surgical pliers and a knife. This should be enough for a while. Later on I'll worry about the rest. I packed all the found items to a small first-aid kit, which still lay on Stark's stomach. He shouldn't die on the way, should he? I had to find some shelter. I couldn't return home. I took a deeper breath, wondering where I could go. Best would be to run away from city. I didn't have transportation. It seemed more real. I touched a flushed cheek of the other man with a back of my hand. Your life is in my hands now.

Outside, it started to get dark, that meant I had to leave this place. I put a hood on Stark's head and took his frail body in my arms. First-aid kit - this time stuffed with items - I put on his stomach. So I walked. Being completely honest - I didn't know how long I was walking ahead. Probably it was quite a long time, my legs were shaking and I began to stumble. In addition, the muscles of my right hand ached and trembled from the effort. I didn't recognize anything around. Where am I? I passed the half-demolished buildings, car wrecks, decaying bodies or chewed bones. Surely in old, good times I came here often, maybe I was close to central park. Maybe. Back in the days I'd cross the same distance ten times faster, but now it was a challenge... You had to avoid rocks, and ruins, some ways were blocked by stone blocks...

It got damn dark, cold, and on top of that, it started to rain. The legs buckled under me and I fell to one knee, swearing loudly. I pressed Stark to myself like a greatest treasure, so I wouldn't drop him on the rocks. I felt the cold sweat from his forehead on my neck, I heard his quiet muttering. I wanted just to lie down and go to sleep, I was tired. When was the last time I slept? Can't remember. Ahead I saw a shadow of someone's silhouette, standing at one of the street lamps. The first thought that came to my mind was that one of the Headhunter found me. He followed me from Stark's tower, waited 'till I get weak enough to take me down easily. He will kill Stark and me with him, for treason. At least we won't have to fight for survival anymore, he will recover from the fever and I'll be released from my missions... I could always try to explain I was taking Stark to our hideout... just took the wrong way and went in opposite direction. I can still fight, they won't take my skin easily. I put Stark's legs on the ground and reached into my pocket for a knife.

"Put the knife back, my friend. I won't hurt you," I heard a female voice. The shadow moved and came towards me. "You look like you need help."

I didn't speak, I didn't hide knife either. Before me stood a young girl in a long jacket with a hood. She had brown, long hair and green eyes. She carefully watched my movements, but showed no fear. Cautiously and slowly she moved closer and crouched in front of me. I pulled out the knife in front of her, I didn't know what she wanted from me and who the fuck is she. She didn't look like someone from the Headhunters, but Loki also stood out... She was young, maybe fourteen... but that girl on the Arena was young too...

"Your friend looks sick. I have a shelter five minutes away from here. It's not great but at least rain is not dripping on head. I won't hurt you, I promise," she explained, tilting her head to one side. "You have a metal hand? Cool! Are you running away from someone?"

"Not your business," I snapped, still not being convinced about her intentions. But I slowly lowered the knife and put it back to my pocket.

"I also have some food," she smiled weakly and held out her hand to me. "My name is Wanda."

"Bucky."

A few minutes later we were indeed in a small house. At the door we were greeted by Samoyed, white as snow. I looked around, despite the cataclysm on the outside, the interior was neat and cleaned. Here and there the windows were shattered, and holes were covered with cartons. Candles replaced the lamps. The fireplace burned a fire. One thing, however, was disturbing, I didn't notice presence of anyone outside this little girl.

"You live here alone?" I asked, gently placing Stark on the couch. I put a pillow under his head and opened the first aid kit. I had to treat his wounds.

"With Pietro," said the girl before she dissapeared in another room, the dog followed her.

"And Pietro is...? Your father? Brother?" I gently removed the rags wrapped around Stark's arm, I saw two bullet holes. They shot him. The wound was livid, swollen, abscessed and yellow, white meat painfully protruded out. It looked like an infection. I'll begin with this arm and check the rest after. I pulled a bottle of morphine out of the first aid kit, together with syringe. I didn't want to prick with needle around the wound, so I injected him with a substance in the neck. I looked at the arm around and noticed that only one bullet passed through. The second was still inside. I glanced at Stark's face, which for the first time was devoid of clear signs of pain. Morphine started to work. Before I noticed, Wanda came back and put plates with a soup on the table, she also brought a bowl with boiling water. I heard rumbling in my stomach, I bit my lower lip.

"Pietro is my dog," she smiled at me, and the animal sitting next to her leg barked cheerfully. "Eat, wash your hands, and then fix your friend. Then feed him, too."

I did as I was told. The soup was delicious, full of vegetables and long-forgotten flavors. This reminded me about life before the disaster. It all seemed so unreal, I was afraid I just fell asleep on that heap of stones and will wake up soon, barely alive. Or won't wake up anymore. How it's possible that a child alone with a dog could live in this world? I finished my meal, glanced at her and wanted to ask about it, but she raised her hand and started to answer the unspoken questions.

"Once I lived here with my older brother, but he was killed during the bombing. I found a wounded dog and took him with me, called him Pietro - after my brother. If you want to know from where I take vegetables - I have a small garden on the floor in the room above us. We're fine, people from neighborhood, the ones who survived, are helping us. Now everyone should help each other, we live in bad times..." she stroked the dog's head and gave him a treat. She was extremely mature for her age. "I'll make you something to drink. Tea?"

"Yes, please," I replied dipping my hands and a sponge in a hot water. I pulled out the surgical pliers out of the packaging and washed Stark's wound carefully with a sponge. Grimace of pain appeared on his face right after I slipped the pliers into the bullet hole. His hand trembled so I pressed it with my knee to the couch. I had to remove the bullet. It took me a while to catch a piece of steel to pull it out, before I managed to do this I was sitting on Stark so he couldn't move an inch. I knew it hurt him, but I had to pull out this crap and clean the wound. I doused it with alcohol diluted in water. I had nothing to sew up the wound, but Wanda came with the help and brought scalded needle with an ordinary thread – she also brought hot, raspberry tea. She had nothing else than this, but it's always something. At the end we applied some magic cream around the wound and then we wrapped his arm in new bandage. I removed Stark's jacket and tore the remnants of his shirts, which was in bad shape anyway. Then we saw the bulky patch on his chest. It was dirty, bloody and sweaty. Carefully I caught the edge and tore it of the skin. But I wasn't prepared for what I've found there. He had some strange... mechanism attached to the chest. It shone a bright blue light. It was active and working. What is this?! If I were insane, I would think that it was a bomb.

"Your friend run on the batteries?" Wanda asked, standing over me. Pietro barked beside her, he also seemed surprised. I touched a strange mechanism with my fingertip, but then I got hit on the back of my head. "Don't touch! You'll break something."

I didn't touch it anymore, I just put a clean patch on it. Then we washed him from dirt and blood and dressed into fresh clothes, which once belonged to Wanda's brother. Then she sent me into the shower and somehow fed still unconscious Stark. I must admit that I felt strange. For the first time I felt... alive. I forgot about everything for a short moment, I simply let the water to wash away all the dirt. On body and soul. I forgot about Headhunters, about Stark, about war, all the missions and death... Again I was happy guy from Brooklyn, who visited all the clubs together with Steve to flirt with girls. I sighed, leaning back against the cold wall of the shower.

When I returned to the living room, Wanda prepared mattresses and clean sheets next to the fireplace. I walked over to her, still wiping the hair with a towel. Pietro barked happily and wagged his tail at me. It all seemed so magical... so... unreal. Chaos outside, world came to its end, and here everything looked like nothing bad happened.... As if time stopped. Almanac. On the one hand I wanted to stay here, but I knew it was impossible. I'd put Wanda's life in danger. But on the other hand... is it safe for her to stay here? Where I wanted to go from now on? I glanced at Stark, who was lost in a drugged sleep. His eyelids twitched, he still had a fever. On top of this, that thing on his chest was troubling me. What the fuck was that?

"The nights are getting colder each day, winter is coming," her voice interrupted my thoughts. "We all should sleep next to each other to keep warm. Fireplace is not enough to keep us warm through the night."

She was right. Winter was coming and it was getting colder. A lot of people will die. I remembered sleeping side by side when I was still a soldier in the army. It was during some mission on Siberia, a cold hell. To keep warm we squezeed in one room, I was always next to Steve. But now it wasn't a mission, after which I could return home. There is no home anymore. No place to go back.

Are you making plans?
Are you gonna try?
This is your life

Are you making plans?
Are you gonna try?
This is your life

Every time I see I make these same mistakes
Cause every time I think I finally found my way
It's always the memories that make it hard to change
It's only a memory**