20 feet...
15 feet...
11 feet...
8 feet...
3 feet...
6 inches...almost there.
It was all he could do.
His fellow Avengers were standing there, safely on the ground. Their heads turned to the sky, watching. Simply watching as he plummeted to his inevitable death.
Free falling.
He let out a scream as loud as his lungs would allow, but no one seemed to care...or even hear for that matter.
Closer and closer. The ground's closing in on him ever second. Cold concrete was about to meet warm flesh.
"AHH!"
Heart racing as cold sweat poured down his face and body as he sat straight up in his bed. It was that dream. The same dream he'd been having for the past four months.
They'd never let him live it down if they saw him like this: an emotion wreck of a man the common people call their hero. They were used to him being strong, protecting, and calm.
In front of the other Avengers, now his friends, and on the front line of battle, he was the strength, the heart, one of the brave. He was the Super Soldier. He was Captain America, but now all he was was broken, scared, and lonely.