Your boots seemed thunderous, as they pattered gently against the bridge. Your footsteps are slow and cautious, as you approach the figure standing right in the middle of the old yet still standing structure. His hands were deeply hidden away in the pockets of his khaki pants, the choice of clothing still looking oddly out of place on him. He stood with distance between himself and the stone ledge overlooking the ground below, and his head was balanced evenly. His eyes looking straight out in front of him, but you could see from the tension and lost gaze in his face, that he wasn't seeing any of the green scenery spread out in front of him. 

"He was still in there," Your voice booms loudly, although you speak in nothing louder than a soft timid whisper. "wasn't he?"

Steve Roger's head turns swiftly to the right to watch you walking towards him, and his eyes follow your slow and steady movements until they stop inches from him. You stood close enough that he could make out the rigidness of the fresh and still swollen scratches that marred the side of your face. He could smell the antiseptic on your flesh as your scent made it's way to him in the fresh breeze. But it was the tender look of concern and empathy overflowing in your eyes, that made him answer in a soft surrendering tone. 

"Yeah," He breathed out into the open air, and the answer you already knew hung in the wind. "he was."

You took a small step forward, watching Steve's Adam's Apple bob as he swallowed deeply. "But it isn't him anymore Steve, no matter how much you--"

"You asked if he was still in there, and he was. I saw it." Steve says calmly, despite cutting off your careful objection. 

"He wears a suit of armor not his own and a weapon for an arm, but he's still that guy who wore our American flag with pride. His mind is muddled and confused and lost, but his eyes... those were clear. I could see him inside, begging to be let out of that prison. It was him, the Buck I always knew. The Buck who was my brother. He's still him, no matter who he fights or fights for."

You chewed anxiously on your lower lip before answering softly, "But it's you he's fighting Steve."

"I know," He sighs and looks down at his feet. "and maybe that's a good thing."

"Enlighten me." You remarked lightly, as you wrapped your arms tightly around yourself. Watching the man you loved, wrestle with the torment and pain of finding his long lost best friend decades later, having become a weapon. A monster for the enemy.

"I know him," Steve expresses, as his head raises and his blue eyes lock instantly with your own. "I know him better than he knows himself right now. I just have to get him to remember who he truly is. Not who Hydra's made him out to be."

The wind had picked up slightly, within the minutes the two of you had stood out on the bridge, and it rustled throughout the tree branches and the long locks of hair cascading down your back. It felt soothing against the stinging sensation still gracing your fair skin, and you watched Steve relish in the feel of the wind sweeping over him. Breathing in the clear clean air as if to clear out his mind. 

"But he doesn't know you Steve," You plead out softly to him, taking one last slow step closer. "you may see the Bucky you knew still inside him. But he doesn't see you. He sees a mission, a target... he doesn't know you."

You knew your words hurt Steve, like daggers hurdling straight towards his heart, for it hurt you just to say them. But you knew the look Steve wore on his face right now, it was one you had seen before. And one you could never wipe away, no matter how hard you tried. His determination and commitment was unbreakable. When he wore the expression he had now, you knew nothing you said could get him to stop. But although you knew your efforts were futile, you continued to try. Because you loved him... and when you love someone... you never give up on them. 

"He will." Steve says softly, emphasizing everything he carried in his heart on those two little words. And although you know he's trying to assure you that he knew what he was doing, that this was something he needed to do. You knew deep down that he was reassuring himself with those two words, more than anyone else. He said them so he could hear them out loud, and not just echoing inside his head. He needed to hear the words and truly believe them, because he didn't know what he would do if he didn't. 

Bucky had to remember him... and you knew Steve would never stop until he did.

"And if he doesn't?" You are beside him now, you arms still tightly wrapped around yourself. But you can feel as your muscles slowly begin to release their tension, as you stand in the warm cloud of Steve's close proximity.

Steve looks over at you, his blue eyes sweeping over your face. Feeling as they gaze over your fresh wounds and over your lips that purse softly with hesitation and apprehension. And it isn't until his eyes finally land on your own, and seem to click like a puzzle piece finding it's rightful place, that you feel your entire body breathe. Every sensation of doubt and trepidation fading as his steady gaze seems to draw it all out, taking it upon himself to keep you light and pain free. 

He finally looks away, and down to his feet once again as he shrugs his shoulder faintly. And in that wordless motion, you got your answer. It wasn't an option for him not to remember, it just wasn't. 

Breathing in a deep breath, filled with the scent of the wind and nature that swirled itself all around you, your feet take that final step that stands between the two of you. Closing the space as your shoulder brushes against his arm, and his head turns to gaze your way as your hand reaches out to grasp his own. Your left hand slipping into his with an ease that still made your heart flutter softly, and he entwined his fingers with yours instantly. The movement not even a decision anymore, it was a response. A reaction that was wired in his body now. 

His skin was smooth, it radiated heat that soaked straight through your palm. And his fingers that should've been calloused and rough, weren't. They slid over your flesh in a fluid motion that sparked a shiver down your spine. His skin soft as he held your hand securely in his own, and it was a grasp that you couldn't break no matter how hard you tired. Not that you ever thought of trying. He didn't hurt you however, his grasp was gentle and tender as he was. But he held you with a strong sense of purpose and safety. 

"I know you're going to do what you have to," You whisper, as your head slowly finds his shoulder. Resting against the solid muscle that relaxes at your touch. "and that this is something you have to see through till the very end."

Gazing up to look at his beautiful face, you are taken a back slightly as you find Steve's awaiting eyes already fixated down on you. 

"I just don't want to see you get hurt." 

You knew how your words sounded as they graced your own ears. The man you loved wasn't just any man. He didn't work a nine to five job, or have a regular life like everyone else who passed you on the streets. He was a soldier... through and through. He fought for freedom, no matter the sacrifices it required. You saw the dangers and the unbelievable paranormal that his "job" entailed, and you heard the stories of his long and tainted past life. You knew him getting hurt was a given and that this was how he would hang it up someday, giving his life in service of his country. Whether fighting in a war or not. But it didn't mean that he deserved to get hurt in a different way.

Steve came home with bruises and scars, and the occasional bullet wound that made your heart stop. But it didn't mean his heart deserved to be open for a different kind of hurt. And you knew with Bucky, that was the only thing on the line for getting viciously destroyed. To hell with his life, Steve would fight for his best friend till he took his last breath. 

"I know you love him, and that he's always going to be a part of your past that rips you apart. But he's not the only person who's with you till the end of the line Steve." 

His hand squeezed yours with unspoken words as a single tear made it's way down your cheek, leaving behind a burning trail against your skin. And although you knew your words made no difference in his decision, the way he squeezed your hand told you that he appreciated them. That although they held no weight in his final choice, they did however hold weight in everything else. 

And for now, that would just have to be enough.

A/N: Ahhh!!! My first Steve Rogers/Captain America One Shot is up!! I'm so freaking proud of this, I can't even explain it!!❤I've been thinking of doing a book like this for a while now, and finally decided to take the plunge. Steve Rogers has always been my favorite character in the Marvel Universe, and I'm so excited to explore his character and the countless writing opportunities he brings! I hope you all enjoyed this one and will continue with me on this journey!💙