The lights were too bright, but the noise even louder.
Downtown Manhattan on the Fourth of July, and subsequently Steve’s birthday, was a celebration that could rival any party in all of the USA.
The blur of people pushing him around, meeting to conference to speech, made his head spin. He addressed a crowd of thousands about freedom and peace and listened to the Governor’s daughters sing the National Anthem and was awarded a medal from the Mayor.
And then, a parade that was grand and long and everything 21 year-old Steve from the 1920’s ever dreamt of.
But, it was a bittersweet celebration.
Even on his birthday, the one, specific day every year that a whole country celebrates in his honor, he felt somber.
People threw flowers at him from the curbside, beads and memorabilia. They chanted his name and praised him and cried as he passed by.
He represented everything they wanted in a nation, and he was proud to be that symbol of freedom.
Nat sat beside him on the back of the corvette as Tony eased the car along behind a giant, waving American flag. The roar of bystanders was deafening. They loved him, drank up the sight of his symbolic, American suit against the glossy redness of the car.
He waved and smiled and put on a good show, but his heart was hollow.
Later, after the festivities had been taken to individual households, he quietly slipped out of the avenger’s raging Fourth of July party. Bruce and Clint had found the red, white and blue marble cake while Tony and Nat debated on grilling the steaks now or later. Thor sat on the carpet, blowing up the 12th bag of balloons. Steve’s smile was fond as he left, and figured they wouldn’t miss him for a few minutes.
He wandered down Manhattan’s Main Street, gently avoiding drunk and stumbling wayfarers as he slipped into the nearest cemetery.
It was one he was quite familiar with, as he frequented it often.
Bucky’s headstone was in Arlington, but Steve requested months ago, under the table, that they move his casket closer to Stark Tower. The headstone in Arlington was giant and decked to the nines with flags and trinkets of appreciation and flowers of all kinds - but his body quietly laid in an unassuming corner of the nearest catholic cemetery.
Steve couldn’t bear the thought of having his best friend so far away.
The grass flattened under his gait, sullen but steady. The small, unmarked grave was underwhelming to the eye, but it meant more to Steve then anyone could ever know.
His love, his heart, was in that box in the ground.
“Hey Buck,” he whispered. The breeze gently swooshed through the greenery, disrupting the blonde hair on Steve’s head. “I miss you.”
A lump formed in his throat as he gazed down to the ground. A simple ant crawled over the concrete slab.
“I hope you’re doin’ good. I never believed in Heaven, but I hope you’re there. You deserve the world and more, Buck.” He paused. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give it to you. I’m so, so sorry, Bucky.”
A tear trailed down his face and around the chisel of his jaw.
“Happy birthday to me, huh? Manhattan really knows how to celebrate.”
“This world is amazing,” he continued, sniffling. “It’s so advanced, too advanced for me. They have everything here.” He looked around. “But why do I feel so sad?”
He chucked, a stuffy noise that echoed through his brain. “I don’t fit in here. You’d tell me to get my shit together, though.”
“It’s hard, because I’m surrounded by good people, the best, but-“ he rubbed at his nose. “I don’t know who I am without you, Buck.”
He looked around at the complacent graveyard. The sun shone gently through the trees, creating beams of light that illuminated the grass below.
“I wish you were here. I wish you could see me.” He chuckled again, but this one was humorless. “It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of, anything I’ve ever wanted.” He bit his tongue to hold back a flood of tears. “But you’re not here, and now I’m not sure any of this was worth it.” He scrubbed a hand over his face.
“I love you, still, every day. To the end of the line, right?”
Steve was recognized on his way back to the tower and stopped for a picture, fixing his grieving mouth into a confident smile and posing.
He couldn’t fix the sadness in his eyes, though.
xxx