This is not the Endgame

Steve looked up. "Peggy," he said on a sigh. "She was lovely, made sure I knew she was available to me from the start. At first I liked being with her. It was romantic, I brought her flowers, she made dinner. I learned how to dance. I like the romance part, the candles, dinner, flowers, little tokens. My sad attempts at flirting. Ways of building a relationship that was more to me than just friendship. But the sex wasn't what I was expecting. It just wasn't as good--as important-- as I always thought it would be. As bonding. That was another frustration for Peg, that I wasn't into the sex. It didn't take much to pull me out of the moment. We fought about it. She accused me of preferring you, that I wanted to be with you sexually, as a reason for being so insistent that we recover you, but I realized that I didn't want sex with a man either. It was impossible to research then, but I'd remembered that in the last Pride parade I'd attended as an ally, I'd heard something about asexuals on the continuum of sexualities. There wasn't any research that I could access. But the more I thought about it, the more right it felt."

"Huh," Bucky said. He pulled out his smartphone and did a search. Steve waited patiently as Bucky read.

"Ok," Bucky said. His quick mind had made the connections. Steve had always wanted to be normal, to have what other guys had, and he'd apparently never questioned his sexuality. Growing up, they'd never thought that they might be anything but straight. And he'd had no real experience prior to Peggy. A kiss here and there, that was all. Explained a lot.

"Society has always said that being in a heterosexual relationship, having kids, was what everybody should have, that it's the most important thing in life," Steve said quietly. "Alternatives are viewed as wrong, other relationships not as important. A participation trophy for losers who don't achieve the ideal. But me, I experience love. I liked the romance--listening, discovering, being present, making someone happy. Making connections. Having special moments. My relationships with others--like you--are intense and emotional. They're just not sexual. It's taken me a long time to figure that out, to see what exists in me beyond the messages that our culture sends. I feel kind of like a freak again--or maybe still--but at least I know what kind of a freak I am."

"You're not a freak, Steve, you're just you," Bucky said, a trifle wearily. This had been their refrain over almost twenty years. Before the war.

"Well, what I am is apparently a confirmed bachelor. I came back because I know now that this is where my family is, even if it's unconventional, even it it's not what I'm supposed to want. And you're at the heart of it, Buck. You always were."

"So what do you want?" Bucky asked warily.

"I feel like I don't really fit anywhere. A square peg in a series of round holes. But I think it will be easier to find a place to fit in in this time. Make a hole to fit myself in." Bucky couldn't help grinning, it sounded sexual. Steve saw and swatted him. "Find something to do that I like, that I'm good at, where I don't have to run through walls, be shot or stabbed, beat people up or be beaten up. Find friends. Make amends. Have my life the way I want it. I can still make a difference and serve without the shield."

Bucky lay there, letting the sun and his feelings run over him. Not speaking, seeing where he felt he stood first. His therapist was going to be pleased that he didn't just jump right or left. "Well, Stevie, I've got a lot of stuff to work through already. You'll have to take a number. But there's room for you in line." The corners of Steve's mouth quirked up.

"What's my position in line?" he asked. It did sound flirty, but not like a come-on.

"Well, working through my issues from my brainwashing and control is number one," he said quietly. "Getting myself straightened out is number two. Hydra's abuse wasn't just physical, psychological, emotional, it was, uh... sexual as well. I've been working on that really hard, because now there's Ava. She's not stupid or heedless, we're going slow, I'm feeling really safe with her. Then I have to figure out what I want to do if I don't want to be an analyst. I want something normal, that I can leave at the office and go home without. Then there's you." He snorted.

"I'll take what I can get," Steve said. "So. Ava. She looks more like Katharine Hepburn than Ava Gardner." Bucky nodded. His Ava had dark hair, much longer than either of the movie legends'; her gaze was usually direct, but when she flirted with him, it was much more seductive. She had long dark eyelashes and beautiful natural brows that drew your attention to her eyes. Her cheekbones weren't quite as prominent as Hepburn's, however, and her figure rounder and more desirable to him than the screen sirens they'd seen in the 30's and 40's. Same love of independence and attractive personality, assertive, quick-witted. Her smile drew him in.

"She's really smart, too," he allowed himself to brag. "She can fix most of the crappy appliances in The Shithole, she's a civil engineer."

"Wait, The Shithole?"

"It's what Wilson calls my apartment building."

"I didn't think it was THAT bad, what I saw before your girl had me bounced." Steve looked at him sideways. "Sam says that there are some bad people living there." Bucky shrugged.

"Maybe, I certainly am." At Steve's look, he relented. "They help keep things safe, they keep their business out of the building. It's not optimal, but it works." Steve grunted. "Do you want to see for yourself?"

"If you'll get the watchdogs called off," Steve said, and Bucky smiled. Steve got up, gave Bucky a hand up.

They parked in the parking garage and walked to The Shithole, chatting casually, enjoying the late fall afternoon. It was cold at night, and Bucky felt like winter was coming hard and fast. Fortunately, he'd gotten that shrink-wrap plastic product for his windows. If it got bad--and NOAA said that the winter would be colder than usual and with more precipitation--he might ask Ava to help him make frames for fabric to insulate his apartment. When they reached The Shithole, Manny and his right hand man were at the mailboxes. Manny nodded to Bucky.

"This is Steve, a friend of mine." Manny jerked his chin.

"This the guy Ava wants watched?"

"Yeah, he's been gone awhile and she didn't know him." Manny looked at the two other men. He seemed to recognize Steve and was unimpressed.

"All right then, but if we hear anything..."

"Fair enough," Bucky said, and retrieved his mail. The other two men went down the hall to their apartments, and Steve and Bucky went up the stairs.

"I don't see what's so terrible about this place," Steve ventured. "It's not nearly as bad as the slums we grew up in. The ceilings are high, a lot could be done with it. Some bleach for the mildew downstairs." Bucky snorted.

"Stevie, it's going to take more than a few sprays of Clorox to get rid of all the mildew," he said mildly. "The electrical needs to be, I dunno, quadrupled, probably. We can't have anything that draws more current than a toaster oven. The heating is crap, but I'm used to the cold. There's virtually no insulation. The one good thing is the hot water heaters." They got to the third floor.

"See, this could be nice. A coat of paint on the walls and ceiling, refinish the floors, put down a runner. Get some lightbulbs for the fixtures." About half of them were burned out. He was going to say more, but Sam popped out of Ava's apartment and swore when he saw them.

"What's wrong?" Bucky snapped.

"I didn't know that she didn't know about Stark's condition for helping you guys retrieve the Infinity stones. Finding out that there didn't have to be a gap and all that hardship was a stress trigger--" Sam said as Bucky charged by him. His heart constricted as he saw Ava sitting up very straight, head tipped back and looking at the ceiling, the panic under the rhythm she was imposing on her breathing, tears running over her temples. He knew an asthma attack when he saw one.

Bucky perched on the sofa next to her. "You're doing so well," he cooed to her. He had what seemed like half his lifetime of dealing with Steve's asthma attacks. "You know just what to do." He took her hands, which she squeezed. "Do you have an inhaler?" She shook her head and he wanted to curse. He spoke gently to her, helping her keep calm. Asthma attacks had always freaked Steve out, no matter how often they happened. Him too. It was scary not to be able to breathe right.

After a couple of minutes, her breath hitched, then became less strained. She freed a hand and rubbed her face, wiping off her tears. Her posture relaxed slightly. "No, I haven't had an attack since the Snap. Medicines ran out fast, my condition isn't serious. I'm not a high priority."

"Wanda's bringing one over from the infirmary," Sam said, agitated. He showed them a packet. "This was the second attack. She was going to burn one of these." Steve took the packet; they were stramonium cigarettes.

"When we had the money, I did too," he said. Sam looked shocked. "It's an old and fairly cheap treatment for asthma; it didn't cure it, but it did make breathing easier. I'm just surprised anybody remembers it."

"What is it?" Sam asked; glancing over, he saw that Bucky had his arm around Ava and she leaned on him. She looked wiped out. "How can you smoke something if you can barely breathe? Doesn't the smoke irritate your lungs?"

"It's datura, it grows all over the world. It helps relax the smooth muscles of the airway. You have to be careful with it, but it's effective. But if an emergency inhaler's on the way, she should use that, it's better." Sam muttered something like 'damned straight,' but Steve wasn't listening. He walked over to the couch and crouched down in front of Ava.

"You're in the best hands; Sam was pararescue in the military, and Buck kept me breathing for twenty years." She just looked at him, and Bucky looked cross at him. "So I guess Sam told you what Tony demanded as payment for his help figuring out the time travel thing."

"That you didn't Snap back to the moment of the original one," she said as hostilely as she could, still breathing carefully, and visibly tamping down her temper. Steve nodded, and Bucky looked shocked.

"He'd had a daughter in those years in between. I agreed to it, but I never intended to honor that agreement." Her eyebrows arched, but Bucky wasn't actually surprised. The Steve he knew wouldn't recognize a promise made under duress in his pursuit of the greater good. "Can I explain? There's a lot of relevant history." Steve asked. She jerked a nod.

"Tony was always difficult. He thought he was the smartest man in the room at any given time--and to be fair, he usually had the highest IQ-- and this and his money and influence were practically permission slips for bad behavior. But Fury put together the Avengers, and I had to work with him. It deteriorated over time; Fury lost his job when we dumped the SHIELD secrets on the internet. Tony did stupid things when there was nobody who could exert control, either ignored the consequences to other people or refused to admit his mistakes. He was terrible about considering the consequences of his actions. The Sokovia Accords are on him because he heard about an American kid who was killed there when we were fighting Ultron, which was an overresponse to the Chitauri invasion. He didn't care about the Sokovians, anybody else around that area when the city went down, but one mother who chewed him out personally, put the blame where it belonged stung him and added to his neuroses. He knew that the UN was working on the Accords, somehow it was done in secrecy, and he didn't tell us, so we were all blindsided. They would have wiped out our civil liberties, which is why I never signed. They described us as weapons rather than human beings with extra abilities. But Tony and his friend Rhodes wouldn't have been affected, there was an exemption for prostheses. He literally couldn't see why we didn't want to sign, it was literally beyond his comprehension. And he wasn't completely wrong, the Avengers just can't go galavanting around on their own, but the Accords weren't the right approach. Wanda would have been under UN control, I would have, anybody like us, and from signing the Accords and revealing private identities, it wouldn't have been many steps to internment. The purpose of the Accords wasn't accountability, it was control. A lot of countries didn't want the Avengers in their borders, even if we were pursuing the bad guys, because some of them are state actors or the countries have something to hide. Which a lot of them seem to. The Security Council would have prohibited us acting except in the world's worst situations, which would allow individual countries to pursue things like Project Insight unhindered. I can't sign on to something like that. Stark never understood personal accountability or a solid threat assessment. He was unstable, insecure, and bombastic, and never seriously sought help for his problems. Always an easy quip, a clever putdown, because he was afraid of not being what he identified as the best.

"Tony browbeat Bruce into helping him with Ultron--not that he had to beat very hard, Bruce can be quite passive and never stood up to Tony even when he had reservations--and even after Sokovia Tony still thought that an army of robots were the right idea despite all evidence to the contrary. He had worked on Project Insight, which would have had the capacity to eliminate threats to America--without trial, any due process. And it all came to a head over the Accords. He failed to understand the difference between security and control, and surrounding the planet with Ultrons would have not appreciably increased our security but would have made him unstoppably powerful. He wanted to trade freedom for security, which I disagree with, especially since 'security' tends to protect only the privileged few, and he was willing to sacrifice everything to get what he wanted. Including Bucky. You probably know that Bucky was forced to assassinate the Starks." She nodded, turning slightly to check Bucky. She touched his cheek in concern, and he managed a smile for her, catching her hand, kissing her fingers. Steve watched this with pleasure for his friend, aware that he might lose his chance to be her friend too, but he wasn't going to try to put himself in a better light. He needed to set the record straight. Accept his share of the blame.

"So we got into quite a fight--"

"Is this where you lost your arm again?" she asked Bucky, who nodded.

"And I'd had it, I dropped the shield and took Bucky for help. We ended up in Wakanda, I went to rescue my friends who had helped us get out of Germany. They'd put Wanda in a shock collar and straitjacket, drugged her. I knew it would be frustrating for the men to be in this prison, but I was worried about a woman alone and unprotected, unable to defend herself. I don't think anything happened to her before I got there, but I also think that with time something would have. I don't recall seeing a single woman in the prison, and I saw a good chunk of it. She couldn't have fought back. So we all scattered, because the countries who wanted the Accords were all after us. But before I went incognito, I sent Stark a burner phone so he could call me if he needed help. I didn't want to hold a grudge about this because the news about his parents was a shock for him, even if he could have been understanding. He and Buck had things in common--forced body modification, other people wanted to use them for their own purposes. Stark was just lucky enough to get away, had the money and power to do what he wanted afterward. But he never called. I finally got a call when the aliens showed up in the city, but it came from Bruce. Stark's pride was too great to ask for help. I didn't see Stark again until he got back from outer space, they'd pursued Thanos there and lost. We all lost in Wakanda too. Captain Marvel found him floating in space with a companion and brought them back. He said that this all this was my fault. As if splitting our forces--first over the Accords, then during that incursion--and him haring off was my idea. Maybe we could have beat Thanos if everybody'd stayed on the ground. Worked as a team. But he went into space before we even had a chance." He spat the last words, jaw working as he tried to compose himself.

"But it wasn't solely my fault. God, we tried so hard. So many people died in the fight, including Tony's second attempt at a robot with true AI; he had one of the infinity stones embedded in his constructed body, and that was no protection; Thanos took it easily. Tony went off to nurse his grudges, be pouty and wronged and brooding. He had himself a beautiful, isolated lakeside home where he could play the martyr and victim for five years. So when Stark added that condition, I agreed, but I was already planning on ignoring that. I know that he loved his daughter with all he had, but one person isn't worth billions. Trillions. Untold numbers of lives throughout the universe. You can't balance all those lives just for one, no matter how beloved, and I'd have sacrificed my nearest and dearest to make things right if I had to. I was betting Bucky and Sam on it, so I was. I used to believe that you don't trade lives, but this isn't a case of a life for a life, or even one life for a few or many more. The balance of lives was so great that one person shouldn't stand in the way of alleviating so much suffering, regardless of how much it would hurt a few people for that one to be traded. And given that nobody seems to know, what's to prevent Tony's daughter from being born in the new timeline after the Snap, be the same kid? It's an unanswerable question. There seems to be two ways of traveling through time, using the Pym particles, which is how we did it, and the use of the Time stone, which is different. I heard from a source that the Sorcerer Supreme kept looping time in order to defeat another alien with bad intentions, sort of ground him down with tenacity, but apparently the particles create branched time. In theory, anyway.

"Thor was of the same mind as me. We would have talked to Carol--Captain Marvel--but she left before we could. It was our plan all along to use the stones and Unsnap to the instant after. Nobody would have been hurt, it would have taken less time than a blink. The six stones had to be put into a special gauntlet in order to use them, and it would kill or maim whoever used it, but we were ready, and we thought that we had the best chance of surviving use of the gauntlet. Me because of the serum, Thor because he's god of thunder and he's used to having that energy flow through him. Even if we died, it would be worth the sacrifice to undo all that suffering. We didn't consider approaching Bruce because he'd have told Stark. And Bruce got the gauntlet, Unsnapped. I'm not sure that Tony trusted anyone else to make the initial attempt. Tried to bring Natasha back but couldn't, because of the way she died, it was in obtaining one of the stones. But we could have still made a correction, but we couldn't get the gauntlet in time, and Stark stole the stones and took care of Thanos and his army." Steve's face was tight with disgust.

"So everybody thinks he died a hero. I wouldn't have gone to the funeral, but Bruce expected us to go. So we did. Haven't seen him since the thing with the shield, don't intend to. But while Stark got his way, I don't think things are going the way he envisioned. Pepper's angry and brittle, she's flung herself into the company, sold the Avengers to the government--and I'm not sure where she felt she had the right to do that, the facility, the tech, even our suits, certainly, but not the actual people--and her daughter is being raised by Happy and a nanny, mostly. And so the cycle of Stark dysfunction is likely to continue." He let out a long breath.

"I know what it was like to live in the Snap," he said to Ava. "I really did my best to get things back to the way they were. I just wasn't good enough. And that's on me. And so I'd had enough, I went back to what I thought was a simpler time, someplace where I thought I could still make a difference. Turned out that I couldn't, so I came back. I'm done with the past, and going back was the wrong decision." There was a knock on the door; Sam opened it and Wanda came in. Her gaze raked the room and she walked to Ava, handing her a rescue inhaler, which Ava promptly shook and used.

"Thanks," she said when she exhaled after holding her breath. "Sam wanted me to go the hospital, but I can't afford it."

"Do you have to work tonight?" Wanda asked. Ava nodded. "You need to take a nap. Whatever happened, it can't be altered now." Ava managed a smile.

"I really appreciate you bringing this over. How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing," Wanda said. "It came from the Avengers infirmary. I insist," she said, when Ava would have protested. "We should leave, let you get some sleep." Steve stood up.

"I'm sorry," he said helplessly, and walked over to Sam. Wanda followed, but Bucky did not.

"Would you like me to stay?" he asked Ava gently. "I don't blame you if you don't."

"I'd like that," she said, and Bucky got up to lock the door after the other three left. Ava dragged herself into the bathroom to change into pajamas, and Bucky turned down her bed, bringing over a chair so he could monitor her. She set her alarm and got into bed, then he tucked her in. She went to sleep almost immediately. He borrowed one of her books and alternated between watching her sleep and reading. Saturday shift was 6 pm to 2am, unfortunately. But at least she had the rescue inhaler; he knew that another attack was more likely now that she'd had one. And at five, he stole down to his apartment, returning with the makings for a good hot dinner, and started prep. She woke up when the alarm went off, and he ducked around the screen to see her looking groggy. He sat on the bed next to her and automatically listened to her breathing.

"How are you feeling?" he asked anxiously. He felt she looked a little peaky and wished she didn't have to work.

"Tired still," she admitted. "My chest hurts." He nodded.

"I'm making dinner, so if you want to get ready, I'll go bring the bike around while you're eating, take you to the bar and back."

"You don't have to," she protested.

"I know, but I want to. You're going to be on your feet all night, you're tired right now. Unless you don't want me to..."

"No, I really appreciate it." She smiled at him, changed clothes and got ready for work, and they sat down to eat. He watched her carefully, but she had a good appetite, and he preened a little to see her savoring every bite of the beef stir fry he'd made. He'd gotten the meat with the specific intent of making her dinner on Sunday; this just sped things up. She took aspirin to help with the pain in her chest and offered homemade toffee for dessert; he thought it was delicious. He wasn't very good making sweets, but he liked them. He made her sit while he cleaned up quickly; there weren't many dishes to wash. One of Manny's crew had watched the bike for him, and he refused a tip. He drove to the bar and let her off. There was a row of bikes a little down the street, and he offered to buy a couple of rounds for the bikers in the bar if they'd let him park his there and watch out like they did for their bikes. He'd seen the group in the bar before and they seemed ok. They agreed, and went inside with him, mostly. He found his usual inconspicuous table in Ava's section, seeing her talking to the other servers at the bar; one of them rubbed her back and they leaned over the bar, looking at something and pointing. Then they scattered, and Ava picked up her tray. She worked her way around to him, taking a moment to smile and touch his shoulder. He told her of the arrangement, and she nodded. The bikers were in another woman's section, so she told the bartender and started a tab for Bucky. By the time she returned with his preferred stout, Bucky had company. Steve had come in, followed by Sam and Wanda. They intended to stay the whole night, in case Ava needed help and to keep Bucky company. He was grateful for their consideration.

"Your usual?" she asked Wanda and Sam with a smile, and they nodded. "What can I get for you, Steve?" Steve smiled at her and ordered a local ale on tap. She brought another basket of peanuts when she returned. Bucky kept an eye on her as she worked; the other servers had each taken a table of hers so she didn't have quite as much to do, but she was slower than usual although still affable to the customers. The bartender gave her an extra break, and Wanda nipped outside to check on her. She reported that Ava was, quote "dead dog tired," but breathing ok, and grateful that there was no smoking in the bar. Wanda had offered another inhaler when her current one ran out, but Ava said that because of the attack, she'd be put on her doctor's list for one now. Bucky had to be content with this, but he itched to make everything better for her. Finally it was closing time, and Ava looked exhausted as she came outside after the bar was shut down. The other servers and the bartender said that they'd do the cleaning. Her arms weren't as firm around Bucky as they usually were, and when he could, he kept a hand on her wrist to make sure she wouldn't fall off. He walked her up to her apartment before nipping out to return the bike to the garage, jogging back. He tapped at her door like he'd told her he would, just to check. Unlike Steve had been, she was strong and otherwise healthy, but she was unaccustomed to an attack after having such a long gap, hearing the truth behind the Unsnappening, and she worked hard. Her pretty face was pale, but she had a smile for him.

"Anything you need, doll?" he asked, and she looked uncomfortable.

"You don't have to if you don't want, but I wondered if you'd stay with me tonight. I don't snore," she added. His expression gentled.

"Sure thing, doll," he said, and hustled to his apartment to change and get ready for bed. She was waiting for him when he got back, and was clearly on her last legs. He let her get settled in on her preferred side, then curled up around her. The serum made him run a degree warmer than normal, and the night was cold, the apartment chilly. "Is this ok?" he asked.

"Better than ok. Thanks, Bucky," she said, and her hand pressed over his metal one just before she fell asleep.