"London", CA:TWS, vignette
Feb. 23rd, 2015 08:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
applecamerontakes place after Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Steve surprised Sam and himself both by abruptly bursting into quiet tears one night, sitting on his bed.
It was the second hotel they stayed at, somewhere around a part of London neither of them knew. Sam had never been. Steve had joked, only it wasn't really a joke because a lot of what he said wasn't really a joke, that even though he'd been there, he didn't know what London looked like, because all he'd ever seen of was air raid shelters and bombed-out buildings. It wasn't really a joke because it was horribly true.
They were just sitting, nothing to do that night except listen to the radio, a little downtime in the midst of their search for the Winter Soldier, and from one second to the next Steve found himself hunched with his head in his hands, vainly clutching himself still as if doing so could make him stop crying.
Ashamed. Horrified.
And then there was Sam, warmth at his shoulder, then embracing him. "Easy, now. Easy."
"I'm not --" "I'm supposed to be Captain America--"
Sam gripped him tighter. "Captain America has more grieving to do than most, Steve. He carries more burdens."
Steve surprised Sam and himself both by abruptly bursting into quiet tears one night, sitting on his bed.
It was the second hotel they stayed at, somewhere around a part of London neither of them knew. Sam had never been. Steve had joked, only it wasn't really a joke because a lot of what he said wasn't really a joke, that even though he'd been there, he didn't know what London looked like, because all he'd ever seen of was air raid shelters and bombed-out buildings. It wasn't really a joke because it was horribly true.
They were just sitting, nothing to do that night except listen to the radio, a little downtime in the midst of their search for the Winter Soldier, and from one second to the next Steve found himself hunched with his head in his hands, vainly clutching himself still as if doing so could make him stop crying.
Ashamed. Horrified.
And then there was Sam, warmth at his shoulder, then embracing him. "Easy, now. Easy."
"I'm not --" "I'm supposed to be Captain America--"
Sam gripped him tighter. "Captain America has more grieving to do than most, Steve. He carries more burdens."