Remember Me?

12

I found that some memories were easier to slip into, like an old pair of shoes. It turns out the dreams are smiliar. I found myself having the same dream over and over.

It starts when it felt like I was awake. It feel like I'm fully functional and wide awake. Then I always notice I'm back in the war. I can tell I'm back by the pistol in my hand. It is always night time and it always starts with me standing in front of a huge warehouse. It is rusted on random parts of its walls. The doors seem impossibly tall, with little knobs from the Hercules size nails in it. I feel compelled to go into the warehouse. So I carefully slide the door enough to where I can slip in.

Inside is dark too. There are a couple lights on, it is enough to tell me no one is close to me. I can see crates pilled on top of each other. I navigate through them, carefully putting up my gun at each corner. It is a maze. Then the crates end and at the end is a dark empty abyss. It is pitch black, so I naturally I search for a light source. I always find a huge industrial switch. When I pull the lever, light by light turn on. Down the row, thump, thump, thump. About half of them light up.

And there he is. His head is drooping and it looks like he has fallen asleep, he sits in a chair. Actually he is shackled to the chair. His uniform dirty, bloody and torn. I run over to where he is. He needs help, he needs to be saved. I tap the side of his cheek trying to wake him.

"Steve, Steve, Rogers" I persist. His head feels heavy in my hands. His hair is matted with blood and sweat.

"Anna?" He mumbles opening his eyes to see me. He looks relieved to see me. He looks so tired though. His lips are cracked and dry, his face is bruised too.

"Yeah it's me, Steve. I'm going to get us out of here, okay?" He nods, he is obviously hurt and dehydrated. I somehow get him out of the shackles. I don't know if I break them or find the key, but the detail is so minuscule its forgotten every night.

"Okay Steve, let's get you out of here." I say helping him up. But he has to be almost a full foot taller than me and more than a hundred pounds heavier.

"Bucky." He says and he winces as he walks. "I came here, to save Bucky. We can't—we can't leave without him."

"You're in no shape to save anyone right now. I'm taking you to a safe spot. I'll come back for Bucky. Just concentrate on walking and getting out of here." I tell him. I grit my teeth and help carry his weight.

It takes us awhile to maneuver around the crates of stuff to get out of the warehouse. I take Steve straight out of the warehouse and into the forest to the right. I hide him and set his back against a tree.

"Who did this to you?" I ask touching his cheek. He's loosing consciousness, but yet I'm not scared he's going to die.

"Hydra" he whispers. I take the time to patch up his bloody wounds the best that I could. I wrap gauze around his middle, and his leg. I try to clean some of his cuts.

"Where's your shield?" I ask

"They took it."

"Where?"

"Bucky."

"I'll get him relax, okay. Relax you're safe and Bucky will be soon. Here take this." I place my pistol in his hand. He needs it more than me.

"Stay awake, you hear me. You have to stay awake Steve."

"I will." He tells me and now I'm scared that when I leave him he'll be gone by the time I return. I place a quick kiss to his cheek in case this is my last time seeing him. And then I'm off. I'm running towards the warehouse. I run through the  crates and I run through the empty abyss. And I run up the stairs at the end of it.