psl for Steve

[advanced]

[The war had been raging for a long time now, and James Buchanan Barnes had been drafted some months ago to ship out to Europe and fight with all the others in the trenches and on the front lines. Telegrams came back daily with the news of more brothers, sons, fathers, and husbands killed. More friends who will never return, and still there was no end in sight.

But then something even stranger began happening on both sides of the timeline.

It was the result of Thanos trying to pull the time gem to him from where it was hidden on Earth, though nobody else knew that. It was just that the occasional object tended to disappear and then end up where it wasn't supposed to be, though only usually for a few moments or so before it returned. SHIELD, what was left of it, and the sorcerers worked to seal the issues and they managed to do it within only a few days. No major issues, no big anomalies in the past to muck things up.

But there was one piece of the future lost in the past that hadn't made it back.

The Winter Soldier-- Bucky-- whoever he was now, confused fragmented memories all he had to go on, had been thrown through time unceremoniously into a street that looked altogether familiar and confusing. He immediately went into hiding for a few hours, meaning he got missed when people tried to clean up the problems that the Infinity Stone had caused, but when nobody came for him by dusk he began to move again. His manner of dress was out of place now with jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, nobody else seemed to be wearing that sort of thing, but very few people stared. He didn't change it, he didn't have anything to change into. He found his feet taking him somewhere only half remembered.

An apartment with a key hidden under an old brick. Why did he know it was there?

He didn't know. He just let himself in, quiet as a whisper, and made his way through to the bedroom where someone was asleep under the covers. Skinny, blond, somehow also familiar (the man on the bridge? The man in the Potomac? The man at the museum? No, that didn't make sense, that man had bulging muscles, but somehow he was sure they were the same). He didn't say anything, just stood there and watched impassively, waiting for the man to wake up.]

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[backalleywars]

The raging war spread throughout the world, ripping away everything at the seams, leaving behind only rubble and dust. The survivors barely having the means or at times the will to put everything back together again. True evil existed and they all saw it now, taking the form of a corrupted man, grasping for more power. But he would lose and a somewhat normal life would return for those left in the wake of such ruin. For Steve Rogers, he experienced the ruin like a brand upon his chest, the loss of Bucky nearly too much to handle as he obsessively kept all the tabs possible on the war. Allowing the names of the fallen to etch onto his skin. But so far he hasn't endured hearing Bucky's name. One small relief in the looming darkness.

Despite everything, he still wanted to join said war and kept trying every avenue he could to make it there. He meant what he said to Bucky and he didn't deserve to do any less when so many men were putting down their lives for the cause of freedom. How could he do less than them?

One way or another he would become the soldier he knew destiny wanted him to be. For the time being, though, he needed to keep the focus on being able to even breathe. All his ailments made it difficult most of the time and sleep could be rare. Case and point - the coughing fit waking him up and with a low groan he pushed himself into a seated position, sweat clinging to his skin from the low grade fever he had. His shaky hands tried to reach out for the glass of water on the nightstand but his eye caught the sight of something else.

No.

Someone else.

What?

"What!" he exclaimed, eyes slowly adjusting. Wait a moment. "Bucky?" The man looked like Bucky but a more looming and large version. Had the war done that to him? "How are you - am I still asleep? I do dream of you but usually you're smiling." The sheets shifted and fell down to pool at his waist as he moved around in the small bed. "What's goin' on?"