This is my first attempt at Captain America fanfiction. I have seen the movie over twenty five times and loved it like crazy each watch. I finally got inspired to write a very angsty piece of fanfiction for the movie. Enjoy!

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Broken glass littered the floor and a fine layer of soot and dust covered almost everything. The local tavern in the once busy town off the outskirts of London, England was dirty, destroyed, and deserted. Except for a single person, sitting in the main parlor, where the bar used to be. Captain Steven G. Rogers sat at a table amongst the wreckage, with just a bottle of wine and a glass in front of him.

Steve wiped at his eyes, pouring himself yet another drink. What was this…his twelfth glass? It didn't matter. Steve had felt heartbreak, tragedy and pain before…probably more than most. He'd lost both is parents at a fairly young age. He was tormented as a child. Even as an adult. When things finally started to look up, when all his dreams were coming true, they fell to the ground again, covered in dust like the table he sat at now.

His best friend, his brother…..James "Bucky" Barnes, Sargent of the 107th, Killed In Action. Steve recalled the moment he had to sign that letter back to Bucky's girlfriend in Brooklyn with total tragic remorse. Steve's hand shook as he signed the letter, trying to hide the tears that were welling up in his eyes from the other officers in the room….and from her. Agent Peggy Carter…the first woman to ever notice he'd existed, other than his mother.

Steve shook his head as he poured himself his thirteenth glass of ale. His mind still swirled with thoughts of his best friend. He couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that he was gone. Dead. Death was so permanent…..

Shaking his head, Steve rose from his chair to find another bottle from somewhere in the wreckage of the building. Since the Nazi's bombed the village there was little left of anything. After signing the letter of Bucky's death, Steve had taken off, not telling anyone where he was going. Peggy had noticed him leave, he knew, but he couldn't think about her right now. The only person he could think about was Bucky. Steve's heart fell in his chest as for the millionth time since the surreal moment on that Hydra train that Bucky was gone. Gone, dead, never coming back. He would have no one to joke with. No one who understood him the way Bucky did. Bucky was there for Steve since the beginning, saving him from bullies as a kid, and even as an adult…always having his back.

Always having my back…. Steve thought sadly, wiping his running nose with the back of his hand. Bucky always had Steve's back for years, and the one time where it really counted, where it was a life or death situation, Steve wasn't there for Bucky. He let him fall. He wasn't there to catch him. He should've been. He should have been there.

Suddenly, instead of sadness and regret, Steve's heart was filled with anger. Anger at Hydra. At the war. At the Nazis. At Dr. Zola. And especially at Schmidt. Steve saw red. All he could think of was Schmidt's ugly, blood red skull of a face dead and finished. He wanted him gone. He wanted him to pay, personally pay for what had happened to Bucky.

Steve's expression crumpled. He laid his head in his arms on the table, crying. For the first time in years it seemed, Steve Rogers was crying. He had vowed not to shed a tear over things that weren't important. The last time he'd cried was when his mother died. That was hard. He cried for days….only a teenager when it happened.

Bucky was definitely worthy of tears, Steve decided. His best friend, his only friend, was dead. Steve cried until he couldn't anymore. He sat back and stared at the ceiling, or rather, the stars, since the ceiling was quite non-existent. He squeezed his mind shut as more memories of his and Bucky's childhood popped back into his mind. The only thing that produced was more grief. And the reminder that it was his fault Bucky was dead.

Steve poured another glass of the drink, downing it in one sip. He couldn't get drunk. It was painful, all he wanted to do was forget his problems, but his body refused to let that happen. Steve looked up slightly as he heard broken glass skittering across the floor, and footsteps sounding in the doorway. He was only mildly surprised to see Peggy standing there, looking at him worriedly.

Steve stared at his drink a moment before speaking. "Dr. Erskine said that the serum wouldn't just affect my muscles, it would affect my cells." Steve poured yet another glass, making it his fifteenth drink that evening. Peggy took a deep breath, shifting her weight, waiting for him to finish.

"Create a protective system of regeneration and healing." He said, sniffing back more tears. "Which means, um, I can't get drunk." Steve looked at his glass again. "Did you know that?" he asked Peggy.

Peggy sighed, turning around to pull up a chair that lay on its side next to Steve's table. "Your metabolism burns four times faster than the average person." She stated, taking a seat. "He thought it could be one of the side effects."

Steve didn't meet her gaze, he looked at the table and his glass. Peggy felt a pang of sadness looking at Steve's tearstained cheeks and forlorn expression. His eyes were red. She said softly, "It wasn't your fault."

Steve shook his head. "Did you read the report?"

"Yes." Peggy confirmed.

He scoffed. "Then you know that's not true." Steve choked back more tears.

"You did everything you could." She told him gently.

But obviously not enough… Steve thought to himself, fighting the pain inside.

Peggy continued. "Did you believe in your friend?" she asked, upon seeing Steve's expression. "Did you respect him?"

Steve barely nodded, but Peggy knew that he both believed and respected Sargent Barnes with his whole heart. He met her eyes and she nodded.

"Then stop blaming yourself."

He looked away, ashamed.

"Allow Barnes the dignity of his choice. He damn well must have thought you were worth it."

She spoke honestly and perhaps somewhat harshly, but Steve was a big boy, she decided, and he needed to snap out of this grief. Peggy felt torn. Part of her wanted to comfort Steve in any way possible, and the other part of her didn't want to remember herself in similar positions as his right now, and wanted to make him man up.

Steve nodded, comprehending what Peggy had said. After a moment, he said strongly, "I'm going after Schmidt. And I'm not stopping until all of Hydra's dead or captured." He said, voice choking slightly.

Peggy met his eyes. "You won't be alone." She promised.

He met her eyes again and nodded. "Thank you." He said softly.

"You are welcome." She replied, picking up her purse from the ground. Gathering herself, she looked to Steve. "Will you be alright?"

He nodded. "It hurts," he told her, "And I miss him." Peggy nodded sadly. "He was my best friend Peggy." Steve said, surprising Peggy slightly by the use of her first name. They weren't often together alone, and when they were, they usually addressed each other as Captain Rogers and Agent Carter.

"I know how you feel." She said softly, "Trust me."

Steve nodded and stood from his seat, straightening his jacket. He offered Peggy his hand, helping her from her seat like a gentleman. "Would you like some company back to base?" Steve asked, smiling slightly.

Peggy nodded. "I would very much appreciate that," she said, "Thank you, Steve."

Steve nodded and took Peggy's hand in his as they left the destroyed tavern. Steve knew that his life would change from here on out. He had lost a member of his team, possibly the most important member, at least to him personally, but he had gained a deeper friendship with a woman who confused him and made his heart swell. Was that what love felt like?

Steve nodded and exited the building with Peggy, leaving his heartbreak and his grief behind him. He'd never truly stop missing Bucky, but he would continue to fight, to avenge his lost brother and comrade. And he wouldn't be alone.