We All Make Mistakes.
Ahhh! So this is my first time writing anything and i'm scared, but here we are. Any comments or suggestions would be much appreciated, writing isn't really my strong suit and I am trying to get better at it so please don't be too mean, also anything on the characters and how I could write them better in the future although it is really only Bucky's thoughts would also be nice.
Um but this is during the war on a mission with the Howling Commandoes from Bucky's view and is movieverse, I hope you enjoy :)
Okie, here we go.
We All Make Mistakes
This wasn't supposed to happen. Oh God this was not supposed to happen.
He was meant to be out, he was meant to run out grin in place and give some speech on teamwork, patriotism or the importance of always looking after lost dogs. He was meant to pull me into a one armed hug, pat me on the back, say well done. All these things were meant to happen and yet it had all gone so wrong. He had still been inside.
I suddenly wasn't aware of the painful way my rifle dug into my shoulder, or the unforgiving wind blowing a morbid mixture of ash and snow into my unblinking eyes, instead I was focused on the cheers that had danced form my mouth just moments earlier, when the first explosion had gone off.
That was supposed to happen, the three following it making all of the work in the factory as destroyed, they were all supposed to happen.
The last final one, bigger than the rest, an unknown source, obliterating the remaining structure. That…that was not meant to happen.
Everything was wrong now so maybe he had it wrong, the wrong place? He couldn't have been there, except he didn't get things wrong anymore, wouldn't make that kind of mistake, not on something like this. Well he never had, that had always been me making mistakes, but this one was different.
This one didn't call for the usual 'jerk' the huff of air combined with an eye roll, the shaking head all the while accompanied with the smile. It couldn't be fixed with a small shove, a familiar bottle between us as we talked about nothing. God we use to just talk for hours, never learning anything of course.
I still hadn't moved from my spot opposite the flaming mess, my eyes searching for the familiar flash of the star spangled uniform, a glimpse of blond hair, until finally I saw a figure stumbling away from the mess I had made. Obviously hurt but so obviously alive that I found myself echoing my earlier cheers.
I would never make that mistake again, of letting him out of my sight. I repeated my promise always at the back of my mind – despite any complications, even a war, I will always protect Steve Rogers.
So that was short but please leave any criticism,
ash xx