This place wasn't for him, not really. He wasn't an offworlder and he hadn't participated in these games. There wouldn't be pictures of the kids from his games or of the people in 13 he'd known for so long who'd payed their price on the battlefield in the last few months.
Those people would be forgotten. Even he would, in time, he held no illusions of that, a memory was an imperfect thing.
But he wasn't here for himself, he was here to honor those who'd helped when they didn't necessarily need to. There'd been offworlders he'd come to care about just as much as any 13 resident and they'd been lost as well. That and one last thing.
A final good-bye.
He moved slowly through the people gathered to make his way to the wall. His injuries healed surprisingly fast, but parts of him still ached for other reasons and he was careful for that. Bucky moves past the wall and instead goes to the bonfire burning bright in the dimmer city light.
He pulled from a pocket a small wood carving. Something that looked somewhat like a bird, but inexpertly made. A gift to an ailing friend when he'd needed the reminder that he could still fly if he thought hard enough about it.
There was no body to bury and no face to mourn. Avoxes lost over the years were more forgotten than his soldiers on the bloody fields of Panem, but that just made it the responsibility of those who remembered to keep them close. Bucky's fingers traced over the chipped wood and thought of Steve and Hannah and everyone else they'd lost along the way. For as long as he could, he would remember them all, but those two he'd never forget. He owed them that much and more.
A long minute passed before, slowly, his hand came up and dropped the wood carving into the flames, dedicated to stand and watch the wood burn down to ashes. The only funeral he could hold.
Tomorrow he would move on and focus on the now and the future, tonight was for the past.
Bucky Barnes
Those people would be forgotten. Even he would, in time, he held no illusions of that, a memory was an imperfect thing.
But he wasn't here for himself, he was here to honor those who'd helped when they didn't necessarily need to. There'd been offworlders he'd come to care about just as much as any 13 resident and they'd been lost as well. That and one last thing.
A final good-bye.
He moved slowly through the people gathered to make his way to the wall. His injuries healed surprisingly fast, but parts of him still ached for other reasons and he was careful for that. Bucky moves past the wall and instead goes to the bonfire burning bright in the dimmer city light.
He pulled from a pocket a small wood carving. Something that looked somewhat like a bird, but inexpertly made. A gift to an ailing friend when he'd needed the reminder that he could still fly if he thought hard enough about it.
There was no body to bury and no face to mourn. Avoxes lost over the years were more forgotten than his soldiers on the bloody fields of Panem, but that just made it the responsibility of those who remembered to keep them close. Bucky's fingers traced over the chipped wood and thought of Steve and Hannah and everyone else they'd lost along the way. For as long as he could, he would remember them all, but those two he'd never forget. He owed them that much and more.
A long minute passed before, slowly, his hand came up and dropped the wood carving into the flames, dedicated to stand and watch the wood burn down to ashes. The only funeral he could hold.
Tomorrow he would move on and focus on the now and the future, tonight was for the past.