continued from @zverskiy‘s post ( here )
★ — The words were accusatory as they were spat at him. Bucky could hear it in Steve’s voice. It hurt. The last thing Bucky ever wanted to do was hurt his best friend. The problem was his best friend seemed to be hellbent on hurting himself regardless as to what other people said to him. Bucky admired Steve’s tenacity; he wished he had a fraction of it, but that didn’t mean that he was willing to lay by while Steve got injured because of some misplaced sense of pride or overwhelming desire to help someone. Unfortunately, Steve was one of those people who needed to be helped. He just didn’t manage to see that.
If everyone had half the moral ethic Steve had the world would be a far better place and there wouldn’t be the need for a war. Problem was, there were few people who held a sense of patriotism and moral code like Steve and there was a war going on. Because of that reason alone, Bucky knew it was his job to take care of people like Steve - only because he knew they couldn’t do it themselves.
Everything else seemed to fade out as Bucky focused on his friend; the boy who was more like a brother than anything Bucky knew. The boy who wanted so desperately to join the army and help his country. The boy who could break if someone looked at him the wrong way. It hurt, but not as much as Bucky knew it would hurt Steve or him if Steve was injured or killed because he was too stubborn to listen to reason. That was why Bucky had alerted the local recruitment office that Steve might try to enlist.
“Because I had to, Steve. Just trust me on that.
One day you’ll understand.”
steve had been fighting every day for as long as he could remember. it wasn’t always against a tangible target, it wasn’t always a bully, it wasn’t about defeating the germans. truth be told -- steve fought himself. some days he fought to get enough air, some days he fought the aches and pains, the exhaustion, the weariness with life.
he was furious, he had a right after all. he’d drank a gallon of water, eaten more than he’d ever care to again. he’d planned it all out, what he could fib about - which ailments he could make light of, which he could lie about. steve would have just passed the weight requirement --- he could have made a difference. but bucky had betrayed him.
suddenly his chest felt tight, air burning as he struggled to even form the words to answer his friend. steve had nothing left. his father dead years ago, his mother gone now too. bucky was all steve had left in this world, and now he was enlisting -- and guaranteed steve couldn’t follow.
❝ ---buck you don’t --... you don’t understand. ❞
it was likely steve would forgive him, the anger already draining from his system. anger - no matter how righteous it may be - was never an easy emotion for him to maintain. he’d just -- travel. try another city. they couldn’t spread the word very far, after all they were in the middle of a war.
❝ this won’t stop me. i’ll find a way. i have to do something. ❞
