Splintered Arrows

Over the next week and a half, everyone started to go their separate ways. Rhodey left for DC, saying that the president asked for his help. Bruce didn’t tell us where he was going, but said that he needed to work on himself. And Steve got an apartment in Brooklyn, where he started a support group for people who just needed someone to talk to.

“I’ll still come by a couple times a week,” Steve said before he walked out the door. “There’s just so much for me to do there. They need me.” I nodded, thinking about the kids at my daycare. Did I make the right choice in leaving? Should I go back? Can I really stay in that house again, after everything? And what about Clint? Would he stay here, or would he pack everything and move (again)? Do I want to pack everything and move again? I gave him a hug and made him promise to give us a tour of Brooklyn once he got settled in, and he left.

Things got really quiet at the compound after that; we didn’t see Bruce at all, Rhodey was traveling with the president, and Tony was spending more and more time away from the compound. The only one Clint, Natasha, and I saw on a regular basis was Steve, who stayed true to his word to visit at least a couple times a week.

About a month after Steve left, he invited us to spend a couple of days with him in Brooklyn. It was so different than when Clint and I went to Manhattan. We didn’t really see any tourist traps; every corner, Steve had a story attached to it.

“This church is where we had the funeral for my mom. Over on that corner is where Buck would argue with the butcher over the price of ham one Christmas. He’d spend 12, sometimes 16, hours every day looking for work down at the docks. Then he’d come home, and I was usually sick, especially in the winter, so he’d take care of me.” We stopped for lunch at a small deli, then went to a park to relax.

“How do you remember all this stuff, Steve?” I asked. “I mean, it’s been almost 90 years since you’ve lived here.”

“The serum enhanced my memory. If I try hard enough, I can see Buck and I sitting on that bench over there.”

“The fact that you were a popsicle for 70 years also probably helped,” Clint joked. I elbowed him in the side.

“I won’t deny that,” Steve said with a smirk. “Although, it’s like that for the most mundane things. The big stuff? Sure, most people remember the big stuff down to the smallest detail. It’s the little things that you don’t even remember the next day; that’s what the serum did.” So every little detail is still there. How have you held on for this long?

After our tour, we went back to Steve’s apartment for a movie night. Clint, Natasha and I sat on the couch, while Steve was in the kitchen making popcorn.

“Hey,” Clint began, “so, next week is your birthday. I know you don’t really celebrate it, but is there anything special you want to do?” I sighed and thought for a minute.

“Yeah, actually. Can we take a road trip to Ohio? I thought about visiting my parents when everything happened, but it slipped my mind. Plus, I didn’t really give my kids at the daycare the goodbye I wanted to.”

“I’m sure we can arrange that,” he said with a smile.

And we did; a couple days before my birthday, the four of us hit the road for Ohio. I had spent the days between our trips online, making phone calls to the daycare, and planning our trip. Sure, my hometown wasn’t as big as Brooklyn, but I still had memories attached to almost every spot, and I wanted to share them all.

If everything went to plan, we would get to my house after dinner, then go to the daycare the next morning. That afternoon, I would visit my parents and Charlie’s parents. The next day, my birthday, would be the tour. I had made a list of all the places I wanted to show them, the places that made me who I am today.

When Caroline at the daycare saw me that next morning, I thought she was going to cry.

“Wh- how- you’re walking!” she stammered. I chuckled and gave her a hug.

“Yeah, I thought I’d surprise you with that little tidbit of information. How have things been?” She sighed and led us into the break room, closing the door behind her.

“We’ve had a lot of people sign up to be volunteers, which is great, but almost all of them are parents who lost their kids. A lot of our kids lost a parent, some lost both, so we’ve been trying to locate family members. We had to repurpose; we’re part daycare, part children’s shelter now. A lot of the parents take shifts staying here with the kids overnight; the kids who still have their parents either go home, or the parents volunteer to take a shift, too. It’s been hard, but we’ve managed.”

“What about you? I mean, you’ve been running this place, and that can’t be easy.” Caroline chuckled and got up to pour herself a cup of coffee.

“Trying to figure out how to shift to a shelter was the hardest part. After you left for New York, things started to settle down here, and grieving parents were more than willing to help, so that made it a little easier. We have therapists and counselors to help us deal with the mental aspect of everything. That was one of the things I started requiring for my volunteers; I needed proof that they were seeing someone. I didn’t want anything to happen to the kids, and I didn’t want anything to happen to them.” I sighed and shook my head.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about this place a lot. Part of me has been thinking about coming back, but-”

“No,” she said firmly. “I know how miserable you were here, and that was when you had Charlie with you. Besides, you’ve already packed up your life and moved to New York; I can’t ask you to do that again to come back here.”

“Well, is there anything I can do to help you? It seems like the kids are at least somewhat okay, and the volunteers have counselors, so what do you need?” She contemplated for a couple minutes, then sighed.

“I honestly don’t know. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in so long, but that’s not exactly something you can give me.”

“No, I can’t,” I said, before an idea started forming in my head. “What if I told you that I had a place for you?”

“You don’t mean-” I nodded, smiling. “No, Alex. I can’t.”

“Caroline, I’m not going to use it when we leave. It’s just going to sit empty. It’s either you take it or I sell it to the bank.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to take it from you.”

“Yes, Caroline. I’m sure. There’s three bedrooms, and one of them has a bunk bed. Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything,” she said, her eyes filling with tears as she realized that I was serious.

“Keep it. Make sure it stays with you. You and the parents can use it for as long as you need, but I want you to keep it.”

“Of course. And, if you decide you want to come back, I’ll try my best to keep your room open.” I turned the corner of my mouth up.

“Thank you, but I don’t think I see that happening. I think this is it for me here. I came back to say goodbye properly. I think, last time, there was a chance I’d come back, but I don’t see that happening anymore.” We kept talking for the rest of the morning, then left around lunchtime.

When we got back to my house, we packed a picnic lunch for the four of us before we headed to the cemetery, where I led them to my parents. We sat in a circle, including the two gravestones for my parents and Charlie’s parents.

It was mostly silent as we ate, and I wasn’t sure if they wanted to talk, or if they wanted me to talk first. What do I even say? Do I talk to them? Do I talk to my parents?

“After my parents’ funeral, Michael and Alice bought the two plots next to them. They obviously weren’t planning on going as soon as they did, but they wanted us to be able to visit all of them at the same time. We never actually came back here after they died; Charlie just couldn’t do it, and I didn’t want to come by myself.

“I just wish they were still here.” I looked over at Clint. “And I know that would mean we would have never met, but-”

“I know you do,” he said. “I’m going to be honest; there’s days I wish we wouldn’t have had to meet, for your sake. I’m so sorry that this is all you have of them.” I smiled and shook my head.

“This isn’t all I have of them. This is just where I go to be with them. This is where I feel closest to them.”

After spending the afternoon with my parents, we went back to my house. Steve and Natasha left to get food to cook dinner, while Clint and I stayed at home. I went up to the entertainment center and opened one of the drawers.

“We never really kept photo albums, but we always had pictures,” I said as I pulled out a stack of photos and sat on the floor. As we looked through the pictures, Clint stopped at one from my parents’ wedding.

“They look happy,” he said, and I nodded. “Your mom looks familiar, but I can’t quite place it. How did your parents meet?” I shuffled through the collection until I could find one of my parents with Charlie’s parents.

“Ama was childhood best friends with Michael, and my mom was childhood best friends with Alice,” I began, showing Clint the pictures. “Michael and my mom went to college together. They went out for a couple months, then realized they were better off as friends. They introduced each other to their spouses. After they graduated, they got married on the same weekend. My mom and Alice found out they were pregnant on the same day.

“Needless to say, Charlie and I have always been attached at the hip. Our Christmas cards were always together. More often than not, we would have sleepovers. Then, when we lost the house, Charlie and I just knew we were going to have sleepovers every night.” Soon after, Steve and Natasha came back and made dinner. After we ate, we went back to the living room, where we spent the rest of the evening going through pictures of my family.

The next morning, I walked into the kitchen to find the other three making a full breakfast.

“What’s this?” I said, knowing exactly what it was.

“Happy birthday, Alex!” Clint said, a huge smile on his face. I couldn’t help but chuckle; Clint knew that I haven’t really celebrated my birthday since my parents died, so seeing him, along with Steve and Natasha, put in so much work for me was incredible.

Before we left, I made sure to grab a few of the pictures.

“This was our old house,” I said at the first stop. I grabbed one of the photos from my pocket and handed it to Steve. “My room was upstairs in that front corner. When my parents and Charlie’s parents got married, they thought about just getting one house, but they wanted their own space. So, they got houses a block away from each other.

“When the recession hit, and we lost our house, my parents didn’t even have to ask Michael and Alice if we could stay with them; they came over on the last day we were here and helped us pack up. I was too young to understand that we were losing our house because my parents couldn’t afford it anymore. They told me that money was tight, and that we would have to live with Uncle Michael and Aunt Alice and Charlie; my ten-year-old brain understood that as Charlie and I are going to have sleepovers every night now.

“As I got older, I understood it more, and I always held out hope that we would move back in at some point. It obviously never happened.” Not wanting too much sympathy from them, I took them to the park where my parents got married.

“Right here is where Michael stood on my parents’ wedding day. It was a very small ceremony; all of my grandparents were gone by this point, and Clara and Darren couldn’t- or wouldn’t, I’m still not sure- come. So, it was my parents, Charlie’s parents, and a few of their friends.

“They would take us here every week. While Charlie and I played, our parents sat on the bench over there. I haven’t been back here since I lost them.” I walked over to the bench and sat down. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to feel their presence, a new connection. Someone sat next to me, and part of me was hoping it would be one of my parents. When I opened my eyes and saw Clint sitting there, I couldn’t help but shed a few tears. Without saying a word, he put his arm around me and pulled me closer to him. Sitting there, I realized that my parents have been with me for everything; I find them in the way the Avengers have taken care of me. I saw them in Charlie. I see them in this moment, sitting on the park bench, surrounded by love.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay here?” Clint whispered. “If that’s what you want to do, that’s what we’ll do.” I shook my head and sniffled.

“No, I’m sure. I just really needed to say goodbye. Sorry the tour ended up with me crying.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Alex,” Steve said as he also sat on the bench. “We knew that this trip was going to be rough. The three of us talked last night and Clint insisted on making breakfast for you.” I thanked them profusely, and we all got up and went back home.

After packing up the photos and anything else that could fit in Steve’s truck, we went back to the daycare to drop off my house keys with Caroline.