Chapter Text
He has been trained to observe and adapt.
But when he felt the icy water wash over him and seep into his bones, he did not see any possible way out. Here he was, clinging to an unrecognisable piece of the aircraft, legs starting to go numb. Closing his eyes, he prayed to whoever was listening up there that he be delivered to a great place. Where he can start anew in a new world.
For now, it was time to sleep.
The taste of salt hung heavy in his mouth. Forcefully blinking his eyes open, he squinted at the brightness as he lifted his head from the sand.
Sand.
His face was covered in sand.
Steve sprang up, taking in the long stretch of beach and the tall trees that lead to a dense forest. Where was he? Didn't he die? The ice water would have frozen him to death. 'I must have floated all the way here, but how is that possible?' He thought to himself. It did not matter, because now he is alive, and he will not take this second chance for granted. Immediately his tactical mind overtook him.
'If I am going to make a shelter, I am going to need to find materials in the forest.' With his main objective clear, he started off into the forest. However his objective soon shifted to the back of his mind. As he walked deeper into the forest, bright colours of flowers and exotic birds that soared through the tangle of trees exploded in his vision. Steve heard the faint sound of rushing water, and as the sound grew louder he stumbled upon a huge waterfall, it's spray forming a bright rainbow that disappeared into the large pool.
He couldn't believe his eyes. The island was absolutely beautiful, and if he actually had some paper and a pencil he could spend his whole lifetime drawing every bird, flower and tree he found here. Observe and adapt. And that is exactly what he did. After drinking some of the water at the pool, he began building a shelter. The Serum helped, as Steve could actually gather strong wood and even fashioned a sharp knife from a pice of flat rock. As the sun slowly began to descend, Steve stopped to look up and assess his work. It wouldn't be called a home, but the foundations of a treehouse were beginning to take shape. He had already made enough progress to take shelter if there was any rain (but judging by the sky there won't be). If he stayed at the same pace as yesterday, he would have finished it by midday.
'This may not be so bad afterall,' Steve thought to himself. 'I can take care of myself until someone comes to find me.' He then felt unease creep into his stomach. Bucky was gone, but what about Peggy? She must think he is gone, for sure. If not, how will they know to find him? This place did not seem anywhere near where he had crashed into the ice. Maybe Howard will find him, he always had a knack of building anything he wanted. He turned, facing away from the stars.
I will be okay.