this isn't a stucky or anything just some Steve is sad angst.

I don't feel like writing more but maybe if someone wants I can try. Basically Steve breaking down about the war

i guess set after CATWS but idk

Word Count: 760

Warnings: mentions of war, suicide, death, ptsd, slurs (queer and gypsy)

I mean, I dunno. It was so long ago but still so recent and like I- I don't know. So much of it can't even remember. And then suddenly it's all there at once. In fucking vivid detail. I don't- I don't know.

That's understandable. Your entire life was pulled away from you when you woke up here, now. It makes sense that you'd feel this way- not that you should want to or that this is healthy.

Yeah, I know. But, I don't know. I guess I just thought- think. I keep thinking, we didn't deserve it. I mean everything I lost- even before waking up. I just don't understand it still. It's hard to comprehend. I don't want to say I was naive, but. I don't know. I knew what war meant and I still wanted in. It was so, dogmatic. Hell, just thinking about all those props I helped make makes me mad. What was I thinking, ya know? I just played into this stupid war machine and I really think I believed I was helping end the war by doing it. Maybe the Great War wasn't it but this could be it. The war to end all wars.

A lot of my patients who joined young harbor these same feelings. I find often it's useful to let it all out, write down everything that pissed you off, every grievance you have, everything you lost and how it makes you feel. Are you open to that?

Do I have a choice?

Steve, no one forced you to come here. Everything we work on is up to you, but that also means only you can choice to work to improve your wellbeing.

I know. I- I don't want to write. Never been real good with that type of stuff. Buck always had to help me with my papers for Sunday school.

Would it be easier for you to tell me?

.

.

I suppose, yeah.

Well then, why do you resent the military?

.

I was just a kid. I was a fucking kid leading a whole military. A-a-and, yeah, I mean, I know that's what I wanted for god knows how long- to do my part and help in the war like my father had. To give my life for my country if I had to. And I did! I did what I set out to, so, I dunno. But, I think I lost my humanity, too. I stay up at night and all I can do is feel the regret and the pain and see the faces. And it's horrible because I know I did good things. And how I can I sit here and say regret what I did when what I did was save lives? How can I go out in the world and tell them I regret helping people? And God, waking up and learning what they did? To Buck. To the other queers and gypsies like him. To fucking millions of Jews? And I-I. I mean people just brutalized and what did I do but play the hero? How can I regret that? But they were kids! I killed kids! These fucking military machines were sending goddamn 17 year olds into the fields and we mowed them down with tanks and machine guns and swift blows and I can still feel it everywhere! It hurts so bad I can feel it in my chest- I just want to scratch at my skin till I can break through to the fucking source of it all and stop it. I just want it to stop hurting- Cus they were kids. And so was I. And none of us deserved it. Or maybe they did. Or maybe we did. But I can't stop that feeling like my whole being is dirty. I saw teenage boys in my own infantries. Did they know what they signed up for? Cus I thought I did. And here I am still so tired of remembering it. I keep thinking, maybe it would have been better if I had really died when the plane hit the water. And then I know I'm being selfish because Bucky would still be being tortured by those sadistic freaks and I mean. I'm so tired. I want it to be done. But everyday there's something new. And how can I sit by and let it happen when I know I have the power to help. But its exhausting. I'm just so fucking tired.