This is not the Endgame

Although he was tired, he was on a roll, and Bucky set up the cat tree, rubbing some catnip on it to lure Nat the Cat onto it, clearing wall space for the new fireplace, arranging the little rug in front and turning it on. Natasha abandoned the cat tree for the fireplace and plopped down in front of it, forcing Bucky to go around her as he happily decorated. He needed more hands, though, and summoned Steve down.

Steve laughed when he saw everything. Garlands hung around his friend's neck and Christmas music played from a speaker. There was packaging everywhere and Bucky had done a little for each project except the presents, cannily stashed in his bedroom. The serenity came from the cat, laying on her side and ignoring everything but the warmth. He entered into the spirit, and the two old friends got the garlands over the door and decorated the tree together, twisting the ornament hangers around the ornaments and the tree branches tightly so that a curious paw wouldn't denude the tree. Or break the ornaments; Bucky hadn't thought about his cat and broken glass when he bought them. The tree was placed on an end table that Natasha had no interest in, draped with the tree skirt, and they lit the candles in pretty glass holders on the mantle of the fireplace. They were pine scented, clear and strong, and both men liked them. Steve helped Bucky clean up and take the trash out. Bucky asked about Steve's availability for his cocktail party, and while Steve went upstairs for some eggnog, Bucky started filling out the invitations, consulting his old-fashioned address book after stamping the envelopes. He went online and ordered hors d'oeuvres from a nearby business so that he'd have something good to heat and serve his guests, and made a quick list for the liquor store. Steve returned with the carton and teased Bucky's holiday playlist as he grated a little fresh nutmeg over the top of each glass. Bucky whapped his head with his invitation before handing it over.

"I don't remember your handwriting being this beautiful," Steve said, surprised, opening the envelope.

"Oh, calligraphy is a weird skill that Hydra made me pick up. There was a mission in the 50's where I used it as a way to penetrate to the target," he said. "I also learned how to make centerpieces out of fruits and vegetables in the 70's, roses out of radishes, swans out of apples, carving melons, my best work." Steve started to laugh.

"This I need to see."

"Just you wait, punk. I'll do something for the party, you will be amazed, and I expect an apology." He'd planned on flowers, the carving was time consuming and finicky, but he couldn't let a challenge to his skills go past.

"Ten bucks, jerk." They shook on it. Their conversation turned to their Christmases pre-war, fond reminiscences only, the passage of time making the memories of privations softer. Steve wanted to decorate his place too and ordered a Lyft, glad for extended shopping hours.

"Pickings are a little slim," Bucky warned, and Steve shrugged.

"I'll have to remember to get on it sooner next year. I'm not in the habit of decorating for myself." He left to get his wallet and coat after extracting a promise from Bucky to help put things up the next day. He also took the invitations to drop in the mail.

Wanting the full experience, Bucky decided to wrap his presents and put them by his tree. He had not reckoned on his cat. As soon as the tape and ribbons were produced, Natasha bounded over with bright green eyes and a sweeping paw, blissful when she could chew on the curly end of a ribbon or a piece of tape. She was completely unfazed by Bucky's efforts to push her away and he finally admitted defeat, twisting some paper scraps together, tying it with several pieces of ribbon, curling the ends with scissors, and tossing it far, far away. She was successfully diverted, and Bucky wrapped as fast as he could.

His wrapping wasn't as neat as he'd hoped, but it would do. His nerves were shot, and he decided to put the ribbons on just before he gave the presents away, since some of the ends were now chewed on and spitty. He'd need to trim those before gifting. He and Steve had been invited over to the Avengers complex for a Christmas Eve dinner where he'd get rid of most of them. Steve and he had planned on making a Christmas dinner for themselves. Pork roast, for the leftovers potential, gratin potatoes, a mushroom fricassee, roasted green beans with beets and feta, and a fruit salad. Gingerbread for dessert. They had divided the tasks between them and were ready to go. Exhausted after fending off his cat, who had lost interest in the ribbon toy and gone back to the fireplace, he retrieved a bottle of stout from the fridge and collapsed on the couch, where he watched the Charlie Brown Christmas Special, which made him sniffle.

The next day, Bucky and Steve hit the diner for breakfast before putting up some garlands, another desktop tree, and a bigger electric fireplace in Steve's place. "I didn't just want to buy a bunch of crap," Steve said. "I put in my calendar for next year to shop earlier for decorations I'll like more, the Monday after Thanksgiving. But I like it, it makes me feel more festive." Bucky went down to his apartment and got a book; they spent the afternoon reading, each reading out lines that especially struck them or amused them. They also talked about the bombings, both in general and the garage one in particular; to Bucky's surprise, it hadn't woken a lot of bad memories. What had gotten to him this time was the 'what if's'--what if Ava had been too badly hurt to move, what if the garage had collapsed. At least he was fairly sure that Ben hadn't suffered. His feet were cold, and he pressed them against Steve's leg. Steve rolled his eyes but didn't protest, and after they'd gone back to reading, absently put his hand on Bucky's feet, helping to keep them warm. It was casual touching that showed the importance of his relationships, and he reveled in it. Coming back was absolutely the right choice, and he wondered that he'd ever felt that the past held any answers.

"Buck," Steve said.

"Yeah?" Bucky asked when he didn't go on.

"After the Senate hearings, the American Psychological Association contacted me."

"'Bout what?"

"They'd like me to do some PSAs, public service announcements. About depression, suicidal ideation. PTSD. Anxiety. Poor self image. The role of nostalgia to the psyche. Warning signs for mental illness. My problems. For different populations--veterans, kids, adults."

"I thought you were doing ok," Bucky said, stricken, sitting up and withdrawing his feet. "That you'd gotten past your suicide attempts. I thought that your therapy had helped."

"I am, but you know I'm probably always going to be working through my issues, I'm at risk for recurring depression. I'm doing what I can that way with diet and exercise, ready to get medication if I need it. But I promise, If I start to go back into the dark, I'll tell you."

"I'll probably know before you do," Bucky muttered.

"Probably, and I'm relying on you too. Hearing what I had to say made this organization think that I could do some good. And not for anybody's purposes, just genuinely to help others who are struggling. After the Infinity stones, that's pretty much everybody. The suicide rate is still so high. I want to help. And they'll share resources with me, helplines, websites, that are reputable and I can direct people to. It'll help make up for the people I couldn't save. I know," he said, holding up his hands. "I know it's not in my power to save everybody, and I'm mostly ok with that."

Bucky poked him with his big toe, softened by the thick sock he wore. "You know I'm with you to the end of the line, Steve. Now that I'm in my right mind again. Whatever you need." Steve smiled at him and patted his foot.

"Yep," he said. "I just wanted to think it over, tell you about it." Bucky smiled too and worked his toes under Steve's leg, going back to his book.

Bucky went to Ben's funeral, meeting his widow and kids. Ava arrived for the service with her sister but skipped the internment. A large contingent of people from the office also made it; Ben had been well-liked and respected.

Ava had texted thanks for his bouquet, and on Christmas Eve, he took her present down. She was looking a lot better, not sodden with fatigue and pain. "Come in," she said. "Rita went to the store. We're going out for dinner tomorrow, she can't cook and I don't want to right now, but we're running low." She smiled. "And I know all I had to do was call, but it's good to have her out of my hair for a bit." They went over to the sofa. There were decorations up here too, Christmas cards set up on the coffee table. "It's not that I'm not grateful for her coming out, she caught a little infection before it got bad and got me in. There was a small piece of fabric that had been missed, more like a couple of threads. I'm glad to see her, but she's kind of high maintenance." She gave Bucky a box and opened hers, delighted with both the candies and the massages. She'd given him a beautiful wool scarf that was thick and warm, several shades darker than his eyes, and two tickets to a big upcoming hockey game that he and Steve had been talking about going to. And a couple of crocheted wool balls filled with catnip for his cat.

"We got in a big fight," Ava admitted when he asked how things were going. "I don't even remember how it started, but Rita was pissed to hear what the Hiatus was like for me after she left. She'd apparently meant for me to use the money in the account for hard times, but I swear she never said that. She specified that it was for the storage unit. I said that I'm not a mind-reader, and she said that I should have had the sense to know that she'd want me to have some place to live, all that." She looked at Bucky, baffled. "But when we were growing up, her room, her things were all off limits unless she expressly told me I could come in or borrow something. I remember once hearing her complain to mom that I was an anchor, holding her back when she wanted to go out and have fun. So why she'd assume that, I don't know."

"Because she didn't think it through, or maybe she thought that she'd talked to you and it slipped her mind," he said gently. "Maybe she doesn't remember that conversation with your mom like you do." She rubbed her forehead.

"Like I said, I'm grateful she came out, but I'm also grateful she's going home on the 26th." She looked in the box and took a dark chocolate with a mint cream filling, according to the diagram on the padding, and offered him one. He chose a vanilla cream in milk chocolate, topped with a candied violet. He'd never eaten a flower, he didn't think. "I'm looking forward to your holiday party," she said, changing the subject, and was interested to learn that he'd adopted a cat.

"Fair warning, I'm one of those people who you'll find talking to the pets at a party," she confessed, making him grin.

"Natasha will probably like that," he said. "She likes to be admired. But Wanda and Sam will also be there, duties permitting. And Thor had some good news; one of his best friends showed up. He'd assumed that she was lost with the others, but Sif was off planet when Asgard was destroyed. It took a long time for her to make her way here. She wasn't a dust bunny, it was a long and hard trip. She'll be coming too."

"He must be thrilled," she said. And they were having an interesting conversation about Thor and the Asgardians in general, how they were getting on, when Ava's sister came back. Bucky took the bags from her and set them in the kitchen while she got her coat, gloves, hat, and scarf off, then gave her the present he'd brought. A slight, visible thawing was apparent as she thanked him, and she declined the invitation to his party, which had included her.

"I'll be going back the day after Christmas," she said crisply. "But I appreciate being included." Her attitude was of bullet-proof competence, utterly in control and self-contained, and Bucky found himself intimidated. Rita went to put the groceries away--and there was a bag from a local gourmet grocers that contained delicious nibbles--and Bucky saw the opportunity for a strategic retreat.

"Let me know if you need anything," he said to Ava, putting his scarf around his neck and picking up the tickets. Ava cut her eyes in the direction of the kitchen area, and Bucky pulled his head in like a turtle. She laughed and showed him out.

"Merry Christmas, Bucky," she said, kissing him on the cheek.

"Merry Christmas, Ava," he said, and ran his thumb along her jaw. Then Rita asked her a question, and Bucky left, going up to Steve's to show him the tickets. He knew Ava wouldn't want to go; she didn't like hockey for some reason. He and Steve went out for an early dinner, then hung out in Bucky's apartment for the evening, watching "A Christmas Story" on repeat, laughing, and having a good time.

The next morning, Steve was up bright and early, waking Bucky up with a breakfast casserole and coffee. Bucky straggled out, rumpled and sleepy and unshaved, but perked up with breakfast and coffee. They exchanged presents--Steve had taken a hint from Bucky's profession of fruit-carving skills and gotten him a class in woodcarving along with a tool roll of pre-sharpened basic knives and gouges. And a bottle of tincture and a pretty glass dip pen and bottle of ink in a stocking from Santa. The pen had a twist of blue and green glass inside the clear glass of the handle, pretty. The tincture was for when Bucky treated himself to a hot-towel shave for special occasions, producing the best shave humanly possible. He liked to make a ritual out of it. Steve was intrigued by the art supplies and Bucky--sorry, "Santa"--had also left a stocking for Steve that contained a clear demonstrator fountain pen--Steve would use ballpoints but had a real attachment to fountain pens--and a colorful variety of sample vials of colorful ink as well as a full-sized bottle of blue ink. Natasha had been given treats and toys by Steve and a new pretty collar--the cat tree had been an early Christmas gift-and organic catnip from Bucky. It was an excellent Christmas. They separated to clean up--Bucky took advantage of the time and used his favorite straight-edge razor, the new tincture, and a hot towel for the holiday--and regrouped in his kitchen to start the meal. They'd eat whenever it was ready and hang out together. They had eggnog and put on the football game. Dinner turned out to be delicious, and overall, Christmas had been fantastic.

The next day, Bucky dropped off small gifts to his friends among the other tenants, getting his hair cut by Matt, and went out to do the shopping for his party on the 28th. He got a watermelon for the centerpiece as well as limes that could could have geometric patterns zested into the peel to look like Christmas ornaments. He picked up the groceries for a few things he was going to make, and called it a day. He had to go back to work on the 27th, and would pick up the appetizers on his way home on the 28th. Nelson had told him that there wasn't much going on, work wouldn't pick up again until after New Years, so he could ease his way back to work with half-days. There would be plenty of time to prepare.

Kalinda was his new supervisor, the next most-experienced architectural technician in the company after Ben, and she was easy-going. He'd also be working a little with the new hire, Michael, as Ben's old projects were divided. Michael was more experienced than Bucky, but Bucky knew the projects and the people.

"He seems nice," he told Ava after they'd met him at a team meeting. She nodded.

"Our HR people have a really good knack for finding people who will fit in well, but you always wonder until you see them in action," she said. "And now they have to replace Ben."

"I thought Michael was Ben's replacement." She shook her head.

"We're growing fast enough that they were already going to hire another tech. But maybe they'll have a head start filling the empty position since they have recent resumes. It'll be hard, though. Ben was terrific." Bucky nodded. Then they talked about other things; her sister had returned home with no further issues. "I think she was glad to go," she said. "It's a small apartment for two people who don't actually know each other very well. But I'm glad she came out, overall. It was a nice Christmas."

He hustled home from work on the 28th, first making thin toasts from baguettes for bruschetta before settling down to carve his watermelons, incorporating the thin dark green peel, the white layer just under that, and the red color of the fruit as elements in the designs. He had two small ones; one had paler flesh than the other, and he used that one for his basket; he hollowed out the rind, cutting the flesh in chunks, and carving the rind in curved feathers. It would hold the watermelon chunks, chunks of cantaloupe, grapes, and pineapple. The other melon took a couple hours to carve, a beautiful peony in the center with ornate carved bands around it. Take that, Stevie, he thought, covering it in plastic wrap and putting it into the refrigerator. Since his table was small, the food would be placed out on the counter, a dark soapstone that was a good background. He'd gotten a couple of pretty cut-glass bowls at an antique store for warmed nuts and hard candies; the new penguin plates would have pride of place among his ordinary white plates. For beverages, he had a delicious cold punch and hot spiced wine. Pretty paper napkins and plates for his guests, a nice arrangement of dark greens and white roses and carnations as a backdrop; he'd learned that some flowers were bad for cats and nixed the lilies in the arrangement. He ran a dustcloth around, plumped the velvet throw pillows, and ran the vacuum. Natasha glowered at him from her hiding place in the house on the cat tree. He got ready and started placing the nibbles out just as his guests started to arrive. Stevie first, of course, bright eyed and interested in their bet. He stared at the melons and coughed up the tenner with no complaints. Bucky smirked.

Steve took over door duty and Bucky finished; Natasha stayed in the little cat tree house. This was much better than Bucky expected; he thought she'd retreat under the bed. Ava was the next to arrive; she and Steve had also exchanged presents before Christmas, so she only had a couple small gifts for Sam and Wanda. Natalia was next; she handed over his present and made straight for the cat tree. Before the next person--Sam--arrived, she'd charmed the cat out and they'd taken over a chair where they shared an appetizer that had tiny shrimp in it. Natasha retreated again when Thor and Sif came, then Matt and Gina, and Wanda was late, apologizing unnecessarily. It was just nice to have his friends there. And maybe next year he'd have even more friends to join them.

Gina and Matt couldn't stay long, they had another engagement, but were there long enough to meet everybody and have some snacks, admire the decor and have fun. Overall, the party was a big success; the food was all gone, everybody exclaimed over his fruit-carving skills, and the drinks were almost all gone too. Everybody had seemed to have good conversation, and Bucky was pleased with his party-giving skills. Everybody also liked the presents he'd chosen for them, so he considered his holiday season a complete success. After his guests left, he attended to the minimal cleanup and took a warm bath. Wanda had given him these things she called bath bombs that had pleasing scents--sandalwood, a winter-y pine smell, and lavender--and he enjoyed watching the lavender one fizz and dissolve. It was a nice light scent and he felt pleased with the evening.

The next night was the hockey game, thoroughly enjoyed by both him and Steve, and the next night was a class he'd chosen for himself--Ava had taken cooking classes here and there all over the city, and he'd signed up for one on preserving after getting her list of culinary schools. He could remember his mom making pickles, and he wanted to try his hand at jams, so he'd be set for next summer's bounty. There were also recipes for pickled mushrooms and peppers that he could do now, and a wonderful recipe for apple pie filling with spices and vanilla beans.

They had New Years Eve and New Years Day off from work, so Bucky made pie crust, apple pie filling, and created hand pies, brushed with egg on top and sprinkled with non-melting sugar. Delicious. He distributed some to Ava and Steve, inviting both of them to his apartment for a casual gathering to mark the new year. And they came, Steve with the mix for hot buttered rum and a bottle of the spirit, and Ava brought brownies. They turned on one of the parties being televised and counted down as the huge glass ball dropped in Times Square, everybody grateful to be in out of the cold and away from the crowd.

And to be starting a new year with friends, stable jobs or plans for classes, and the feeling that good things were coming. Steve yawned and went upstairs to his apartment after some good bye hugs. Ava also got up to go. At the door, she smiled at Bucky and asked if he'd go out with her.

"I'd like that. A lot," he said.

And on January 2, HR got visits from two employees to tell them that they were dating. Nelson juggled job assignments around to make it work.