The Movie
April, 2012
“What’re we going to watch tonight?” Thor asked in intrigue as he plopped onto the couch. Steve smiled at him and drew his legs up to give the Asgardian more room. Once he was settled he answered with a shrug.
“No idea. It’s Clint’s turn to choose.”
“And I have the perfect idea!” the archer exclaimed as he vaulted himself over the back of the couch. His sock covered feet nudged Steve’s shins while his legs sprawled across Thor’s lap.
“I swear to god Barton, if you say another B list piece of crap, cringe filled, movie mess I’m finding a way to sling shot you out of the Tower.” Tony remarked dryly while he and Bruce entered the living room, their arms full of snacks.
“Can that just be an option no matter what?” Natasha asked, lifting her head from where she had been lazily draped across an armchair.
“Betrayal!” Clint called, dramatically pointing at her.
Steve groaned and reached over to stop him from throwing something in her direction. “Please, just one movie night that doesn’t end in attempted murder?”
Natasha huffed but nodded. “Okay, I guess we can behave. For you.”
“Why do you listen to Capsicle and not me!” Tony exclaimed indignantly.
“Steve has The Face.” Clint replied.
“You say that with capital letters, don’t you?” Bruce asked with a small grin and the blonde nodded delightedly.
“Sure do!”
Steve groaned again and flicked Clin’ts foot. “Please, just tell us what movie we’re watching.”
“And no B list monsters!”
Clint rolled his eyes at Tony and said, “Don’t worry your little head princess. I’ve decided to go the total opposite direction and choose a movie with eleven academy awards!”
“Recently?” Bruce asked.
“Those are good, yes?” Thor added.
“Yeah, Pointbreak. They’re good.” Tony assured him. “So come on, Barton. Which one?”
“I figured in honor of the hundred year anniversary, we should watch Titanic!”
Clint’s exclamation startled him so much that the pencil in his hand snapped. His five teammates turned to look at him simultaneously and he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, uhm, did you say Titanic? Like the liner that sank in nineteen-twelve?”
“Exactly that one, Cap. It's the story of a fictional first class girl who falls in love with a third class boy. Super cute.” Clint explained and he gave him a confused look.
“How? How is anything based on a tragedy cute?”
“Tragedy?” Thor asked with a wrinkled brow. “Is it worth the tears?”
“Absolutely.” Tony agreed. “I’m normally not a romance kind of guy, but you can’t not like Titanic.”
“Then I am excited to experience it!”
“Steve?” Natasha asked gently. “You okay to watch it?”
Steve smiled at her reassuringly and nodded. “Yeah, yeah lets watch it.”
As the movie began to play, a strange hollowness started to settle in his stomach. From the moment that the crew found the wreckage of the ship, to Rose putting her hand once more into Jack's, the feeling continued to just grow until he felt like he could no longer breathe. As soon as the movie was over, he wanted to bolt from the room.
He didn’t though. He didn’t want to alarm his teammates and instead left as calmly as possible. He didn’t think that watching the ship sink would have caused such a burning feeling in him. It wasn’t something he was alive for. It wasn't like the one time he had stupidly tried to watch a War movie. Despite it being before his birth, he knew a part of him would still be bothered by it. He couldn’t help but to see his mom. It was the first time he had really imagined the events in more than just the abstract.
Even reading his mother’s journals hadn’t felt like watching that movie had. There was something about seeing it splashed across the screen in vibrant colors. Something that continued to haunt him for days. The burning pit had turned into an aching longing. He knew he could never have what he needed to fill that longing, but he knew something that was a close second.
So after the next movie night, a harmless choice from Natasha that had no historical connection but that he didn’t even really remember watching, he stopped Tony before he could run off to his lab.
“Hey, Tony. Uhm, I know this may be a long shot, but would you happen to know what happened to the stuff I had in my apartment when I went into the ice? I didn’t want to ask SHIELD, but I figured if anyone knew it would be you.”
Tony gave him a grin and nodded. “As it happens, I do actually. Howard had somehow gotten his mitts on all your things, kept them in a super secure airtight safe. It’s in the mansion upstate. I can bring you up tomorrow, if you want?”
Steve felt like he could hug the other man, but instead just nodded eagerly. “Yes! Yes, please. If you don’t mind?”
“Not in the least. I should have taken you there a while ago. Meet you here at like, one? In the afternoon of course.”
“Yes, of course. Whatever is good for you!”
The next day, Steve was beyond anxious. He couldn’t contain that anxiety. The entire drive, he was practically vibrating in the passenger seat and Tony kept shooting him concerned looks. “You okay, Cap?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Uh, would you mind if I asked what you’re so eager to get?”
“Journals.”
“Yours?”
Steve shook his head. “No. No, my Ma’s.”
Tony made an almost distressed noise and neither of them spoke again until they got to the house. Tony led him down to the basement where the safe turned out to be more like a secure bunker. He was truly shocked by the amount of things Howard had kept. He recognized everything around him, and some of them made his heart clench painfully. He couldn’t even look at anything he knew was Bucky’s.
So he kept his focus on looking for a specific suitcase, an immense relief settling over him as he caught sight of it. He knelt down by the worn leather and ran a hand over it. It was in surprisingly good condition, and he hoped that the treasure inside was as well.
Nervously, he undid the latch and let out a heavy sigh when his eyes caught sight of the mismatched series of leather bound journals. The oldest one is where his hands gravitated towards. The cover was worn down, the edges missing. The spine had fallen almost entirely apart. Despite that, the pages were as pristine as one hundred year old paper could be.
He very gently flipped the cover open. A folded piece of yellow paper fell down and he even more carefully picked it up. With a delicate touch, he separated the halves. He knew what was on the paper, but the image still took his breath away, especially after having watched that damn movie.
He wanted to trace the words, but he was too afraid of disintegrating the paper. He very lightly folded it again and picked up the other sheets that had fallen out. The torn and worn piece of paper that displayed a menu was the last that he picked up. He couldn’t help but to stare at it.
He could only imagine if history had gone differently. If his mom had been one of the many to not make it home. If the words written across this paper had been her last meal. He never would have existed, and the world would have been robbed of twenty five more years of the wonderment that was Sarah Rogers.
He would forever be grateful to the woman who had saved his mom. His ma’s words were a descriptive picture that he could always see clearly. Could always vividly picture the events from that early morning from the moment that he had read this very journal the first time. Now though, now he had so much more stimulation added to it and was afraid to read her words again. Afraid to truly experience it first hand.
“Everything okay, Steve?” Tony asked from the doorway and he almost dropped the precious journal in his surprise.
“Yeah, yeah I’m coming.”
The entire drive back to the Tower he contemplated if he should try and read it again. He wondered if it would be a comfort or painful to read his mom’s slopping, beautiful writing. He ultimately decided he needed to. He missed her, and no matter how horrific the events written were, they were all he had left.
Once he was alone in his room he opened the journal once more. He delicately placed the flyer for the ship, the boarding pass, and various menu pieces aside and flipped open the journal to where he knew the story of his mom’s journey to America began.
He stared at the beautiful flowing Gaelic words, his hands hovering over the date. With a settling breath he began to read.
3 March, 1912
I should be surprised, but I amn’t. Mama and Papa refuse to allow me to marry my Joseph, but I know that I can never love another like I love him. He is my everything. I can no longer stay there. No matter how much I assure them that Joseph is more than willing to be baptized Catholic, they don’t care. I am beyond lucky that Joseph’s grandparents are willing to take me in. More than that, they are willing to send me to America to be with my fiance. They gave me the boarding pass today. I cannot believe that they have spent their savings to send me across the sea on board White Star Lines newest ship, the Titanic. She is said to be the greatest liner to ever cross the ocean. The Queen even. An unsinkable ship of no parallel. They even got me a second class pass. I assured them I would be fine with third, but they would hear not of it. I am so grateful for Grannmama and Granpapa Ruaidhri. I do not think I would ever be able to make it to America without them. As far as I am concerned, April cannot come fast enough.
Sorcha Ni Donaill
Steve stared at his mom’s name for a moment and then glanced at the March fourth entry. He contemplated reading through, but he was still a little nervous to handle the pages. Instead he very gently flipped it to April eleventh. He could handle this. He really could. He wouldn’t picture a teenage Sarah Rogers as one of the people from the movie. He wouldn’t imagine how she felt as the ship began to sink beneath her feet. He would just read. Just read and imagine she was the one telling the story. Imagine that he once again had his mom. He could do this.