Avenger's Poems
The Running-Away Poem
All he wanted to do was run.
He was good at it too. He ran when he pulled his best friend from the wreckage when the "friend" saved his life. He ran when he started to remember. He went to the museum, and saw his face.
That was weird.
Then the memories started coming back. He was on a train, and the "friend" was trying to catch him, yelling "BUCKY! NO!" and he was falling,
Falling…..
Falling…..
He remembers screaming, holding out his arms, trying, begging to be held, and to stay alive. The air turned him around, so he could look down, and that cliff was coming WAY too close; too fast.
He remembers praying "Please God, I haven't lived long enough, let me live!"
He shouldn't have said that.
He started inhaling funny, and in the back recesses of his head he was thinking 'Please don't breakdown anything. The museum won't be happy if I kill everyone.'
He remembers impact, and his bloody stump of his arm was dyeing the snow red. He sees a tiny man, with stupid little glasses, the very man who injected all of the stuff into him.
Asshole
The saw cuts the stump away, and he remembers holding up his arms, to see a regular, tanned arm, and the metal one.
He shakes his head, and the memory dislodges from his brain. But the man who saved him in the helicarrier, on the bridge, before they swiped him again, saying
"Bucky?" he said it like a question. Steven Grant Rogers. That's the friend's name. He smiled, fondly, and then he ran out the door.
He's good at running away.