As far as Bucky was concerned, Louisiana living had suited them just fine.
The weather had finally cooled to the point where the heat was tolerable, almost enjoyable, rather than oppressive. The leaves had begun to fall in earnest, painting the entire town in rich reds, yellows, and browns. Christmas, and its many preparations, laid just beyond the horizon, and Bucky felt himself growing excited about the holiday season for the first time in literal decades. It was easier to fall into the spirit while watching Sam’s nephews, who in many ways had become his own, scribble down their wish lists and while consulting Sarah on how best to hang the lights in the trees that dotted the yard.
He and Sam had fallen into an easy rhythm, They spent most of their time sparing and running until they were both winded and pleasantly spent, exhaustion settling into their bones in the most comforting way. When they weren’t training, they often spent long bouts walking around town or fixing in the boat, in a silence that was easy and unburdened. The folks around town, even the old-timers, often stopped to wave to the two of them, to thank them for their service. It felt good to be known.
And when Sam had kissed him under the sweet magnolia, their perfume heavy in the air, that too had suited them just fine.
But, of course, Bucky knew that couldn’t have lasted forever.
-
“Have enough bread to go with your butter?” Sarah had asked, her tone playful in the early morning sun. Bucky laughed in an easy and affable way while Sam rolled his eyes while he fixed his own plate by the stove. The wind had rattled the old house to its bones, but inside that morning was warm and toasty. The smell of breakfast and cooking grease hung heavily in the kitchen, causing Sam’s stomach to growl.
“I,” Bucky had managed to squeeze out in between bites. The bread was greasy, salty, and sopping in his hands - just like he liked it. He flashed Sarah a winning smile from across the table, “grew up with actual rationing. As in, I didn’t get to eat actual butter. Now, the US government can’t tell me how much butter I can have, and neither can you.”
Sam settled next to Bucky, their elbows touching slightly and with his plate overflowing with an egg and spinach scramble. He leaned over to kiss Bucky’s cheek, and Sarah rolled her eyes in the most affectionate way. It was a good morning so far. “We get it. You’re old. I won’t hold your senior citizen status against you. But all that butter really will actually clog your arteries.”
“I hate it when you both team up against me.”
Sam and Sarah exchanged wicked grins over the rims of their coffee mugs. Both of them took it black, and Bucky could almost see the reflection of their mischievous smiles in the coffee’s dark mirror. .
There wasn’t much on the agenda. The morning was still quiet while they had their morning coffee and hearty breakfasts. Sarah would start the food later that morning after Sam and Bucky had driven the kids to school. They would swing back later to drop off the hot plates to the friends and neighbors that had ordered faithfully from her burgeoning business. Maybe later they would go into town, catch a movie or visit the mall to finish off the very last of their Christmas shopping. There were some last-minute paint touch-ups that would have to be done to the boat, but those could wait until a day when it wasn’t so windy.
It was a completely unremarkable morning.
Until it wasn’t.
-
“Mom,” AJ called from upstairs, “you need to turn on the news!”
His voice was concerned and distant as if he found himself completely engrossed in something else. When he should be getting ready for school, Sam couldn’t help but think. He still lived by his military motto, much to his family’s annoyance. On-time was late and early was on time.
Sarah, puzzled, reached across the table to click on the remote to the small and old TV she had set up in the kitchen. Normally, she spent her day binging something or listening absentmindedly to daytime talk shows while she cooked. It took her a few minutes to find the news channel. Bucky chewed noisily beside her. He licked a stray drop of melted butter off of his hands.
As the channel sputtered into focus, Sam watched not one, not two, but three Spidermen swinging and dogging through the streets of New York City. Beside them, the wizard, Doctor Strange or Odd or whatever his name was blasted portals left and right to try to avoid an onslaught. (In Sam’s defense, he had only really ever met the guy once, at Tony Stark’s funeral, and to be fair, no one really felt like striking up small talk that day.) Behind him, the girl, Wanda, hovered menacingly with hands outstretched and off-red hair flowing behind her in tendrils that seemed to levitate on their own power rather than on the wind.
Sam winced and sucked air in through his teeth. It wasn’t exactly the most comforting picture.
“Do you know them?” Asked Sarah, eyes still glued on the TV, watching the carnage unfold before her eyes. Her hand clutched the remote for dear life.
“No,” Bucky responded almost non-committedly as slathered another pat of butter onto his bread. Sarah scowled at him, either because his answer was an obvious lie or because she was so sick of him using up all of her butter. No one couldn’t really tell at the moment.
It was Sam’s turn to glare at him, and Bucky shrugged.
“Okay, so I kind of lied. We know all of them. Or at least, we know one of the Spidermen. I hate that kid, so annoying.” Bucky took another bite. Sarah furrowed her brow even harder. “And the other two are Strange and Wanda. Wanda is a sweet kid, lost her brother, is kind of magical. Strange is also magical. I don’t know what his deal is though.”
“You’re going to go help them right, though?” Sarah pushed her plate away as if she no longer had an appetite. Sam shoveled some of her turkey bacon onto his own place. He loved the stuff, but it was so damn expensive at the local grocery store. It almost made him miss living in DC. “It kind of looks like they need your help.”
“They’re fine,” Bucky mumbled. At that exact moment, the news camera panned as one of the Spidermen was launched by a green flashing grenade into a nearby skyscraper. He shot right through the windows, leaving a sizable gap dozens of feet above the now-empty street. The shrieks of civilians watching the whole thing unfurl were muffled by the sound of falling glass and stomping feet.
All of them instinctively winced.
“Okay, so maybe they do need our help.” Sam took a bite of his turkey bacon and savored the taste.
“I don’t know,” Bucky shook his head and took a long drag from his coffee mug. “Listen, Sarah, this is different. It was different when Sam and I had a whole team. But, watching this, knowing what we went through the past few months, how are we going to handle a Big Three situation when we nearly got our asses handed to us by a little girl and a knockoff?”
"You don't have to be so blunt about it. We kind of beat Walker in the end." How someone could be simultaneously so practical and so stupid at the same time truly baffled Sam from time to time.
"Sure, pal."
“That doesn’t sound like the guy I know. I think all of the fried catfish you’ve been eating has made you lazy.” Sarah looked puzzled as she continued to watch the TV. A flash of guilt did overcome Bucky’s face for a brief moment. “What’s the Big Three?”
“Aliens, Androids, and Wizards.” Sam and Bucky responded in eerie unison.
“And that’s related to these people, how?” Sarah questioned.
“Well, Wanda and Strange are definitely wizards.” Sam started to explain as if it was the most natural thing in the world as if everyone knew. He paused to shovel some eggs into his mouth. “I’m calling all magic users from now on a wizard - so they have that category. And I don’t know. The kid was friends with Stark. Maybe he built him a robot clone or something so he could fight crime and go to class. That has to be the only way that there’s three of them.”
“But,” Bucky pointed out, a little too smug for Sam’s liking. He would have to remember to shut him up later. “I am not seeing any aliens.”
And just like that, at the very bottom of the screen, in a golden ray of light emerged a figure covered in a rich golden helmet and heavy green armor. Bucky couldn’t make out the face, nor did he really care to. He still wasn’t entirely sure that this was their fight to undertake. Sarah and Sam peered at each other in a look of pure shock and horror. Sarah even let her fork rattle to the floor.
“Who the heck is that guy? A Lord of the RIngs cosplayer?” Bucky smiled knowingly as if he made an inside joke with himself. He was clearly very satisfied with his joke, and he took another sloppy bite of his toast to celebrate.
“Oh no.” Sarah breathed.
“What? I thought that was a good joke. Cass just told me what a cosplayer was last week.” Bucky shrugged. He could vaguely hear the sound of the boys running to each other’s rooms upstairs. They had to be running late for school soon. “You know him?”
“You remember that story Steve told you, about when the Avengers first assembled and defeated Thor’s brother - the same guy who kind of destroyed New York City and planned to take over the world.” Sam squinted at the TV screen as he watched Loki begin to blast his way across the street, stopping only to yell something at Strange that he couldn’t make out over the TV. Sam would say that it was unbelievable to watch a guy that Thor had said died like six years ago walk across the New York City streets, but at this point, stranger things had happened. All bets were off the table.
“Yeah, why?” It was Bucky’s turn to look puzzled.
“Well, that’s him,” Sam pointed at the television with his fork. A slow grin grew across his face. Sarah looked annoyed as her brother was clearly trying to illustrate his point. “You know where he’s from? Outer space. So, that makes him...?”
Bucky sighed. He placed his crusts on his plate and then rested his elbows on the table and his chin in his cupped hands. “An alien.”
“Bingo. Which means...?” Sam gestured at the TV again. Another Spiderman was flung off the screen, and Wanda flew over to try to pick him up. The last time he remembered, Wanda hadn’t been that great at flying. She used to be good at taking off and landing and not much else. From what Sam could see, she had improved a lot. He felt a swell of pride. He had always liked her a lot.
She could still use some pointers, but that could always come at a later time. Maybe Bucky was right. Maybe this wasn’t their fight quite yet. But when it was, they would know where to find them.
“We have the Big Three” came Sarah and Bucky’s glum response.
“Gosh,” Sam stuffed his mouth full of eggs and chased it with a gulp of coffee.”It feels good to be right.”