Chapter Thirteen
Steve should have felt some relief at seeing Romanoff sedated and far away from Bucky but instead the empty feeling in his stomach deepened. Today Banner had stopped Bucky's owns sedation and now it was just a waiting game.
Once removing his sedative, the group had agreed it was best that Steve wasn't the first person the soldier saw as he woke, in case it set him off again. Steve had reluctantly agreed and now he was going out of his mind waiting. Patience had never been his strong suit.
He was out of his mind with worry, he knew Bucky wouldn't wake up completely fine and back to normal, or as normal as he'd been since he'd come to stay with them. He knew it was too far of a stretch to just have Bucky back, the same punk that used to save his scrawny self from beat downs.
If was his fault after all, he'd failed to catch Bucky, to save him from the fall and afterwards he'd been sad and had attempted to wash away his pain in booze instead of going to search for his body.
Maybe if he'd gone looking for his body to give his mother something to bury he would have learnt the truth. He would have learnt that his best friend, was alive.
Was alive and in pain. For endless years while Steve slept away in the ice.
It was all his fault, what good was being Captain America? what good was saving innocents? stopping a war and at the time stopping Hydra? If he couldn't save his best friend.
He'd failed in all pursuits.
He failed his best friend and now he's not even sure what he is.
He failed Uncle Sam, he never stopped Hydra, he just made them more powerful.
He lead Zola right to Shield.
He failed Howard Stark, He failed Colonel Phillips.
He failed Peggy, the only women he'd ever thought to love.
He was a failure, a fraud.
"Steve!" the loud knock of the door pulled Steve from his poisoned thoughts, turning he spotted an anxious looking Barton at the door "He's awake"