My legs were on fire as I pushed forward, but there was no stopping now. The trees began to thin, and the road opened up before me—a cracked, two-lane highway cutting through the wilderness. The kind of road where nothing ever happened, but everything seemed to lead somewhere.
Then I spotted it.
A small, run-down shop nestled between a clump of trees—a faded gas station with rusting pumps and a flickering neon sign that stubbornly read "OPEN." A perfect spot to catch my breath and maybe, just maybe, find some answers.
I jogged toward it, my boots crunching against the gravel, mind spinning with thoughts of everything that had gone wrong since I woke up in this body. The mission I never signed up for. The memories I couldn't shake. The haunting sense that, no matter how far I ran, nothing would change.
I pushed open the door to the shop, and the bell above it gave a weak ding. Inside, it was a time capsule—a dusty counter, stale snacks, and a single, gruff man behind the register. His eyes flicked up from his newspaper, narrowing slightly as he studied me.
"Lost, son?" he grunted, his voice a low rasp.
I didn't answer right away, too busy scanning the room. The place felt safe enough, quiet, but I kept my guard up. The shopkeeper didn't seem like much of a threat, but I wasn't here to make friends.
I cleared my throat. "Just passing through. What's going on in the world?"
He nodded toward the TV above the counter. The volume was low, but I could make out the report running across the screen.
"—breaking news: Tony Stark kidnapped this morning. S.H.I.E.L.D. on high alert—"
I stiffened. Tony Stark?
The man glanced at me, clearly picking up on my interest. "Happened a few hours ago. No one knows who took him yet, but things are... chaotic. Stark's a big name, you know."
I nodded, though my mind wasn't on Stark. The chaos unfolding was just a ripple in the larger storm. I had more pressing matters. But Stark's kidnapping felt like a sign—a dark omen, confirming what I'd feared.
But I had no time to dwell. I needed to keep moving, keep going, and deal with my own issues before things got worse. I glanced down at my hip, at the Hydra-issued pistol strapped to me, and felt a pang of unease. It was time to get rid of it. I didn't need it anymore—not here, not on the run.
I pulled the pistol from its holster, set it on the counter with a heavy clink, and looked the shopkeeper in the eye. "I'll trade you this for some food and water."
He raised an eyebrow but didn't hesitate. He reached behind the counter, grabbed a sandwich wrapped in wax paper, and slid a bottle of water toward me. "You sure that's all you need?"
"Yeah," I said, grabbing the sandwich. "Thanks."
Before he could say anything else, I turned and walked back outside, the door swinging closed behind me. The cool air hit me like a punch to the face, clearing my mind as I moved away from the shop. I didn't stop to eat yet. There was something pulling at me, gnawing at the back of my brain.
It was Steve.
I couldn't keep running without knowing. Without him.
Steve Rogers.
I thought about him—about us—more than I ever cared to admit. Back when things were simpler. Before I became this... thing. Before I was wrapped up in this nightmare of Hydra, betrayal, and memories I wasn't sure were mine. Steve and I? We'd been through hell together. We were brothers in arms, best friends who understood each other in ways that no one else could.
He was the one person who might know what I was feeling. Who could help me make sense of this chaos. He could remind me of who I was.
I couldn't go on like this. Not without him. Without someone I trusted.
Because without Steve, I wouldn't have anything left. I was lost. Broken. And if I didn't see him again, if I didn't feel like we could figure this out together... I might never sleep peacefully again.
So I ran.
I ran down the road, heading east, toward New York. Toward the only person in this world who might understand why I couldn't stay away.
Because Steve Rogers wasn't just a hero to me.
He was my best friend.
And I was going to find him, no matter what.