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There is a certain monotony in eternity. A stillness, even in the chaos. Once you have seen one war, I am afraid you’ve seen them all. Once you’ve carried souls to the great beyond of their choice enmasse, everything else is just static until you have to do it again.
Some Quick Facts About The Entity Of Death
- I don’t like to be called an ‘entity’. Mrs. is fine.
- There is really nothing to be afraid of. I do not bite.
- I am always watching.
- One day I will come for you.
The first time I came for Steve Rogers was in winter 1925. A snow pale pile of shivering bones wrapped in a woolen blanket stitched with love and a little desperation. The room itself seemed to shake along with him.
Steve Rogers had always been a sickly child -- if there was a contractible ailment he contracted it and then some. And then probably pneumonia, just to make sure it really stuck. This time, however, two weeks before Christmas the year Mr. Fitzgerald penned the novel featuring Jay Gatsby, it was finally going to catch up with him.
Steve Rogers was going to die at the ripe old age of seven.
His mother, a fair and pretty woman, even when gaunt and grief-stricken, was facing the reality of having to bury her only child next to her husband -- one tiny, full grave next to a larger, empty one. Yet, she still didn’t move from his bedside, nor did she waver in her faith. A rosary was clutched between her white-knuckled fingers. Her raw lips murmured prayers into the dim room as her eyes never strayed from her son’s chest. Counting his labored breaths. Waiting for the moment they would stop.
On Steve Rogers’ other side, sat a boy no older than Steve Rogers himself. His skin was tanner, a healthy shade for a boy his age, and his hair was dark. His little mouth was set in a stubborn frown, like he was holding in a scream. But what really stood out to me were his eyes. Clear, bright, crystalline blue. A summer sky reflected off of a calm sea.
And they were staring right at me.
Another Fact About Death
- I am never noticed
But this boy, James Buchanan Barnes, age 8… he noticed. And he looked at me, unflinching and angry. And he narrowed those sharp eyes and furrowed those dark brows and clutched little Steve Rogers limp hand like he, himself, could pull his friend back from the brink of passing.
And then he opened his frowning mouth.
“No,” he said, “you can’t have him.”
I would have responded -- though I don’t know what I could have said. Maybe I could have comforted him with the knowledge that this is a natural passing of the order. That one day I would come for him as well. But as it were, I had not used my voice since before the earliest Egyptians stirred the sands.
So I said nothing.
“You can’t have him.” James Buchanan Barnes repeated, “Not Steve.”
And I cannot tell you why, but I left Brooklyn that night sans the small burden of Steve Rogers’ soul.
I have been told ‘no’ more times than I care to count or remember. I’ve been begged by sobbing parents and pleaded with by grieving widows. All wanting more time. All asking no. All bargaining not yet . Not them.
But never before have I acquiesced. Never before have I left empty handed.
That night, December 11th, 1925, I left alone.
In the years that followed I would often find myself drawn back to Steve Rogers -- often still sickly and frail but always fighting and always with James Buchanan Barnes hovering in his gravitational orbit.
More than once I felt those eyes on me in those instances of casual voyeurism, always daring me to come closer and finish the job. Daring me to take him.
And I should have. Death does not play games or pick favorites. Death does not make exceptions.
Except , apparently, in the case of Steve Rogers.
A Few Things Regarding Steven Rogers
- He didn’t like bullies
- His favorite color was lilac
- He could do this all day
- He would die for James Barnes
And because it feels sacrilegious to seperate them, even in this context --
Some Facts About James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes
- He rolled his own cigarettes
- He thought he was afraid of heights
- He often went hungry so others could have just a little bit more
- He would follow Steve Rogers into the jaws of death
- Not Captain America. Always Steve Rogers.
- This would be important later.
The only time I’ve ever come for a soul and not be able to find it, was in the tragic case of Bucky Barnes. Bucky Barnes who thought he was afraid of heights, but realized only when it was too late that he was afraid of falling.
He fell from a train, following Steve Rogers. Not Captain America as the stories would tell. Because those stories are told by the living, and the living don’t know everything. Not like I do.
It would be seventy years before they would see each other again. Seventy years before I discovered the atrocities done to Bucky Barnes’ soul in the hands of HYDRA.
You see, it takes a lot for a soul to become so damaged and afraid that it fails to recognize its mate.
“Who the hell is Bucky?” Asked The Winter Soldier, and in that moment I heard Steve Rogers’ heart fracture.
The thing about Steve Rogers, however, was that he had nothing left. His world had shattered when Bucky Barnes fell off that train. He blamed himself -- Bucky had, after all, followed him.
Upon the realization that Bucky had survived the fall… well… there was really no stopping him, was there?
And even if there was, I’m not sure I would have tried.