The first was a stern foreign accent, guarded by luscious red lips. She was a commanding officer, she earned her power and demanded her respect. She was brave and bold and beautiful and Steve wondered how she ended up on the front lines of a war. It was unsurprising that she wondered the same. Steve didn't have much back then. He was small, his body riddled with disease and weakness but his spirit never faltered. He supposed thats why he survived. She knew that's why he did. He was barely half her size, he barely deserved half her glance. She couldn't tear her gaze away. In a blink of an eye he was suddenly everything he had ever wanted to be and she became his strength; the reason he was fighting. He could see her chocolate brown curls whenever he closed his eyes. Her fierce expression motivated him in his darkest moments and he never felt stronger than when she was by his side, guiding him, supporting him, loving him. Steve loved her with all his heart. She was his first. The first to look past his outer appearance, first as small Steve Rogers then as the strong Captain America. She saw his strengths, his weaknesses, his emotions and his actions. They were basically perfect, but perfect didn't have a place in such a cruel world. He met her again when she was old and wrinkling, and he had been left untouched by the passage of time. She still looked like a goddess to him, brave and bold and beautiful. And even after all that time the love was not gone. It was simply preserved in a time that neither of them could touch.
The first person Steve loved was Peggy Carter.
And she loved him back.
They never got to say a goodbye.
The second was haughty arrogance and sarcasm. They didn't get along too well at first. He was everything modern; billionaire tycoon, genius inventor, self-made superhero. Steve was everything old-fashioned; loyal, patriot, all red, white, and blue. He looked at Steve and saw the man his father adored more than his own son. Steve looked at him and saw the little boy that he was, scared, afraid, just wanting love. Both were men who just wanted a little more time. Their hurts drew them together, and their generations drew them apart and so continued their game, like two moths locked in dance around a flame. The fire of potential drew them near and the heat of the flame caused them to falter until they finally took the plunge, letting their passion take over. But such is the nature of the flame that they inevitably burnt each other up and so their love burnt out. But only temporarily, until the match was lit again, and their dance began anew.
The second person Steve loved was Tony Stark.
And he loved him back.
They lived in fear that one day they may not be able to reignite the flames.
The third was childlike bouncy red locks paired with an assassin's glare. She was born a Russian doll and trained into a cold-blooded killer. He was born diseased and weak and turned into a war mascot. They were both something they didn't want to be anymore. They both couldn't help but stay as they were. They knew nothing else. They knew they couldn't run away from themselves, but that doesn't mean they didn't try. And so they ran and ran straight into each others arms. In his embrace, her wrists finally felt free of the handcuffs she'd worn to bed for years. In her embrace, his shield didn't weigh him down with expectations any longer. While together they could finally forget themselves, if only for a short time. And though their time would inevitably run out, whenever it became too much they would come running back to each other.
The third person Steve loved was Natasha Romanov.
And she loved him back.
As time went on they realised that they would not be able to run forever.
The fourth was warm eyes and a bright smile. Laughing and flirting, they became friends. They fell into step with shared loyalty and trust and they called it love. He was everything Steve could have wanted, after being thrust into this cruel new world. He was soft and empathetic and kind. They had both loved and they had both lost and they were both willing to fight for what was right. He was so much like Steve and that made everything that much easier. His chocolate skin was the only opposite to Steve's pale white. Luckily for Steve, he had found beauty in the cold blue eyes, in the ice , in the pain, in the hard certainty of his life, and he had accepted Steve for Steve, as he was now. He followed Steve into battle without hesitation and Steve could see his angel wings spread. As he glided through the air he saved Steve as he fell from the stars, from his past, from his ghosts, into not the cold ice, but the strong, waiting, dependable arms of his love. Steve knew that he would always be there to catch him.
The fourth person Steve loved was Sam Wilson.
And he loved him back.
He unfurled his wings to catch him, but he no longer wanted to be saved.
The fifth was intelligent eyes and a familiar touch. He was Steve's idol, strong, smart, loyal, and brave. He was everything Steve wanted. He was everything Steve was not. Together, they were complete. He was always there when Steve had no one, be it seventy years ago or the present day. He always took care of Steve. Even when Steve changed, and could take care of himself, he was always by his side. Together, they fought. He was Steve's best friend. Together, they died. Alone, they awoke in a place beyond comprehension. He survived his own trials and Steve, his own ordeals, with nothing to keep them going but the thought of each other. The memories of each other could never be taken away, no matter the torture, no matter the time. Bloody knuckles and longing for home, lost and alone, they wandered through this place, both men whisked away from their time. History, nostalgia, fate, destiny. Eventually, a second chance brought them back to each other. Together, they fell into step with each other as naturally as a flower blooms. Not even 70 years could dull the sparkle in his eyes. Together, they saved themselves. And so they saved each other. Together, they fell back in love. A love that had never left, a love which transcended time, a love which was the only love Steve had ever needed in his life. The only love he had ever wanted. Their souls belonged together and after a century the love was the same, still as strong as ever. There was a little more metal and a lot more muscle but they ended up together at home in Brooklyn, as they should be.
The fifth person Steve loved was Bucky Barnes.
And he loved him back.
Together forever, until responsibility tore them apart and the love they fought so hard for, was once again put to bed.
The last was the bottom of a bottle and the glint of a blade. The ragged edge of a shattered shield and the shards of a broken heart lay around a disheveled Steve, among the shambles of a bar. He couldn't get drunk and healed faster than he could hurt himself. His hand shook as he raised the gun to his head, his finger hovered over the trigger. His capacity to love was taken away from him, blown away from him like punches to his gut. Once, twice, thrice, four times, five times he loved and lost. The evil was too great in this world and he could love no longer. There were enough people to save the world. The world needed him no longer. He finally decided to do something for himself. He pulled the trigger. He finally allowed himself to join those he had lost. To wait for those yet to come. He finally chose his own happiness.
The last person Steve loved was himself.
After all those years.
At the sound of the gunshot, Steve's carefully crafted body was demolished, and his heart began to heal.