4. Homecoming, Sort Of
Bucky,
We're an hour out from Germany and my heart is racing. I'm dressed to impress in a new suit: vibrant blue, almost like the one I wore when I started the USO tour. It's been reinforced with all sorts of things I can't pronounce. Phil said he had a hand in the redesign. He did a nice job. But dressed like this, on our way to confront the enemy, I just keep feeling out of place again. I feel like I'm in the wrong time, or worse, two times at once. With my eyes open, I can see the lights and bells and whistles of the jet's cockpit, and the moonlight on the few wispy clouds. With my eyes closed I can see the countryside, all destroyed by mortar shells and trenches dug like scars through the fields, and the bodies of soldiers.
So I'm writing this letter. If I look at the pen and the page I don't have to look at the future or the past.
It does feel fitting that my first mission with the reborn SSR has me going back to Germany. It's sort of like going back to where it all began. Yes, technically it began in Brooklyn. But I mean the real Captain America thing, where I decided enough was enough and some things were more important than image.
It's strange to be back in this suit again, when so many other things matter more. I asked Phil if maybe this wasn't just a little old fashioned. He thinks that with everything happening, and how uncertain our future is as a result, maybe the world needs a reminder of the past. That great things were accomplished, and can still be accomplished. He's a man of few words, but the words he does speak have conviction in them. Phil's a guy who believes in what he's doing. He believes in me, and in Natasha and Fury.
Bucky, I have no idea what I'll be facing in just under an hour. I've asked about Loki: origin, weak points, strategies, the usual. But no one can seem to tell me much. I point-blank cornered Phil, who eventually told me that I'd believe it when I see it. Even he seemed a little uncertain, and given what he's seen, that's saying something.
The other thing that has me feeling a bit out of sorts with this is that apparently Howard Stark's son is supposed to be part of the team as well. It feels strange because it's almost like old times but Peggy's missing, and so are you. Phil's a good guy. In fact he's watching me write right now and I'm paranoid that he'll read this; maybe he's got some super sight he's hiding behind his sunglasses (yes it's night and he's still wearing sunglasses). But I'm going into enemy territory without the Commandos, and without you watching my back. I always knew I could count on you to make the shots that needed to be made, even if I couldn't see you.
I've wondered when I'll wake up and realize this is all a dream, but then remember that I slept for seventy years. I am awake. The dream is remembering the war, before my best friend died and my best girl… well, I still haven't asked about Peggy yet. If I survive this maybe I should. I owe my past that much.
Feeling strange,
Steve