Of Heroes and Myths

Tony had been bugging them about a party for weeks, and despite numerous and hearty protests, he went and threw a birthday bash-slash-Fourth of July-slash-We Saved the World party.

“It’s a celebration! People only turn 96 once, and usually they aren’t in as great shape as you are.”

Steve knew what Tony was doing. He was trying to cheer him up, since Bucky hasn’t woken up since New York, and in these past seven weeks Steve had hardly left Bucky’s bedside. (Of course, for the first two, he’d been in a hospital bed all his own.) He’d only leave when Sam and Natasha bully him to take a shower or go for a run, or try to get some ‘real’ sleep.

Whatever that meant. Steve hadn’t felt fully rested in years, his superserumed body always at odds with the little guy still inside. His body could continue, but his mind dragged him down.

Still. He didn’t want to have a party. Tony threw one anyway, to Steve’s chagrin, in the large manor he had in the Hamptons that he was kind enough to let Steve and Bucky stay in, which meant the rest of the team was here too. Steve even convinced himself that he wouldn’t go until the day of, when Pepper found him this morning just after his run and turned the guilt trip up to eleven.

It was clear why Pepper was such a good businesswoman. No one could say no to her.

And now he found himself, much later, out on one of the balconies outside of the huge ballroom. Not that the party was too formal by any means, but it felt like Tony had invited half of New York to fill the mansion. Everyone who had fought in the battle was welcome, so it led to odd conversation partners the likes between Squirrel Girl and Mister Fantastic, Spiderwoman and Power Man, She-Hulk and Elektra. Steve had tried to escape into the kitchens, but he found Deadpool flipping hundreds of pancakes while rapping along to some female hip-hop star, so he slowly backed out before he was noticed.

(The only one suspiciously absent was Fury, but a dead man showing up to a party would ruin the secrecy.)

The balcony was his safe place while Tony tried to rile people up to do karaoke before fireworks. He was only three stories up and could easily jump down if the need arose. And he seriously considered it, since he hadn’t been around Bucky all day.

As soon as Pepper left him that morning, Tony had found him, insisting that Steve come to see what improvements he’d made on Steve’s shield. Steve hesitated, but curiosity won out, especially since Tony swore he hadn’t added any guns to the shield. So Steve texted Sam saying he’d be a little late. After Sam’s assurance Bucky was fine, he followed Tony.

And Tony suitably impressed him, presenting him with armbands that linked up to his shield, pulling them together like magnets. His shield would now fly to him much like Mjolnir to Thor, and he couldn’t begrudge such an advantage like that in battle. So he talked strategy to Tony for a while, before he checked the time and decided to get on with his day. He had a lot planned, after all. Sitting next to Bucky’s still form and getting lost in his head took a lot out of him.

Except Sharon Carter found him on his way there, insisting that they do breakfast. Steve’s too polite to refuse, and, well, he was hungry after his run. They sat much longer than he intended to and he’s actually surprised by how much they had in common. After learning that Peggy was her great aunt and discussing a bit of how much she meant to both of them, they regaled stories of their time in battle to each other. It was different than discussing it with WWII vets who had been there, but also different than someone whose only frame of reference were dusty files and textbooks. Sharon had Peggy’s wit and spice, but with a flavor all her own, and Steve found it refreshing.

So when he looked at the clock and found it nearly noon, he balked. He apologized, saying that he had to run off, but that they should do it again sometime. He found he really meant it and hoped he’d found a true friend in Sharon.

Just after he’d sent an apology text to Sam and promised to be there right away, Natasha had stepped out in front of him, looking him up and down.

“You don’t think you’re actually going to the party like that, do you?” she had said and blocked his path when he tried to stride around her. He turned only to find Maria with a predatory glint in her eye, and both women hooked their arms through his, leading him the opposite way of Bucky’s room. He complained and moaned the entire time, but one did not simply say no to Nat and Maria on a mission, and he was forced to follow. It took ages (but actually only about two hours) to go to a few stores and pick out what they called the perfect outfit, along with some other things to “update his wardrobe.”

“Seriously Steve, no one could say no to you with the way that shirt makes your biceps look,” Maria had said with a sly grin.

“Or with how your ass looks in those pants,” Nat agreed.

Steve had smoothed a palm down his face and begged to go back.

Only to be blocked again by Rhodes, who said he was bringing up some food for Dr. Banner, and wouldn’t Steve like to come along and say hello? Steve cursed his ingrained politeness and headed off to the labs. He’d met Bruce after the alien attack, and the Hulk had finally passed out, leaving a small 5’8” man with dark curly hair in his wake. Bruce was mild-mannered and quiet, having been forced to learn to control his anger after what he called ‘the Incident’. Steve didn’t pry too much into it, but he was nice enough to talk to.

He finally slipped away after an hour, promising to seem them both at the party.

“Captain!” Thor boomed down the hallways and Steve sighed, vowing to himself that he wouldn’t be derailed just like before. Except Thor proposed sparring, and well, Steve did want to practice with his new armbands for his shield, and blowing off a little steam did sound good, and according to Nat, Bucky was still asleep, hadn’t even noticed he was gone, so he found himself in the training rooms with Thor.

Both were taken by surprise when Thor slammed his hammer down onto Steve’s shield and it created a shockwave that shattered the windows. Thor looked at Steve with a slow growing and slightly manic grin, and, well, Steve was never known for playing it safe.

(So that move was pretty awesome and he couldn’t wait to use it in battle. He didn’t actually have to admit it out loud.)

By the time they were both out of breath and appropriately tired, it was well after five in the evening. The party itself had started at four, but Steve had promised to show up around seven, and Steve needed time to get ready and check on Bucky. He hurriedly showered and made his way back to Bucky’s room, when Clint barreled into him.

He was in his undershirt and sweatpants, both covered in what looked like coffee stains, trying to hold up his pants since the string had broken. He had a toothbrush in his mouth and just one sock on. With only half of his hair was slathered in gel, he had the look of someone who was trying to get his shit together but couldn’t quite manage it. A golden retriever stood at his side and wagged his tail at Steve.

“Steve! Thank God — would you take Lucky for walk?” he asked before shoving the leash into Steve’s hand and didn’t give him a chance to protest. “Thanks, you’re a life-saver. He needs to be walked for at least an hour and here’s a tennis ball, he loves playing fetch. I gotta go get ready or Nat’s gonna kill me — see ya!”

“Wait, Clint!”

“Sorry, can’t hear ya!” he called back, pointing to his naked ear, and ran off.

Steve looked after him, and then at Lucky, who grinned and wagged his tail harder when Steve paid attention to him. Steve sighed, and resigned himself to walking Lucky, since he couldn’t very well just leave him. He walked them around the mansion and let him off the leash when they got to the beach. Despite his best efforts he became enamored with the dog, and enjoyed himself much more than he intended to when they played fetch, to the point where he was considering getting himself a dog by the end of it. It would certainly be nice to have someone to come home to who was always happy to see him.

This led his thoughts back to Bucky, and he cringed, the guilt of not having seen him all day catching up with him. It hit especially hard when he looked at the clock and it only a quarter until seven. He whistled at Lucky and they booked it back to the mansion. He dropped Lucky off at Clint’s room, who thanked him and looked marginally more put together than before, and ran to his room. He had to shower again but he’d at least had his outfit put together, deciding it was fine if he was fashionably late. He had to see Bucky before the party.

He stepped out of his room to wolf whistling, and his shoulders slumped when he saw Nat, Maria, and Pepper standing there. Sure enough he found himself corralled against his wishes not to Bucky’s room, but to the party.

“Fashionably late I see!” Tony called to him, pausing just long enough to thrust a champagne glass and a sparkler in his hand before being submerged back into the party.

From there he had to endure endless happy birthday’s and thank you’s — it had been so long since the banquet, and yet here he was, come full circle. At least he knew that these people were all on his side, and he’d always be grateful for their help, but it was just too much.

And thus the balcony. He breathed in the muggy July air, the sky clear and cloudless and perfect for fireworks. Maybe he’d just stay for fireworks, and then ditch. No one would be able to complain then. He even had earplugs so the explosions wouldn’t bother him.

He leaned his elbows on to the balcony and stared out at the expansive yard and at the people who’d spilled out along the beach to prepare for the fireworks. Part of him wondered what was the point, and the rest of him felt guilty that he got to see all of this when Bucky lay still in his bed.

“Looking this sad on your birthday has to be a crime.”

Steve’s heart lodged up into his throat because he knew that voice and he whipped around to see Bucky leaning casually against the doorframe.

The sight of him knocked the breath out of Steve’s lungs. He was dressed in a blue and green plaid button down, which was covered by a navy zip-up jacket despite the heat, the left side neatly pinned. He had on dark, fitted slacks, clean white tennis shoes, and his long hair was combed back into a bun. Steve gaped, he couldn’t help it — the image so jarring and unexpected his brain had a hard time catching up.

“Careful there Steve,” Bucky said, a beginning of a smile touching his lips. “You keep your mouth like that you’ll start catching flies.”

“Bucky,” he breathed, willing his mouth to work. “You — you’re — you—”

Bucky raised one eyebrow, and pushed off the doorframe, the door slipping close behind him. Steve swallowed as he came up and stood to Steve’s left.

“You look good,” Steve finally pushed out. With Bucky’s presence here everything else was forgotten, the party, the scenery, even where they were. Everything came second fiddle to Bucky and Steve couldn’t take his eyes off him.

“I had a little help,” he admitted.

“Oh,” Steve said. “That’s why everyone tried so hard to distract me all day.”

“It — they said it was for a good cause.”

This close he could see Bucky’s little squint, the slight turndown of his lips, and realized that Bucky was nervous.

“A very good cause,” Steve assured, and ached to reach out to him, but was unsure if Bucky would allow it. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said, because while that only poked at the tip of the ice burg, it at least was a start.

He’d spent hours and days and weeks agonizing about what to say to Bucky and now that the moment was finally here, everything he’d prepared had flown out the window.

“I heard there were fireworks,” he said and shrugged a little. “An’ I thought, couldn’t miss out on that.”

“They were handing out earplugs,” Steve said. “Did you get a pair? Here, you can have mine and I can go—”

“I already got a pair.”

“Oh. Okay. Okay, good, that’s good.”

Silence settled and it turned awkward like it never had before. Too much was bubbling in Steve’s chest, all vying to breach past Steve’s throat and he feared it would all come up at once like word vomit.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, after this,” Bucky murmured, gazing out at the water.

Steve let out a huff of breath that could almost be mistaken for a chuckle. “You know, people keep asking me that too. And I don’t really know, except that I did promise myself that after the whole thing ended, I’d go on a vacation.”

He looked at Bucky’s profile in the dim evening light and thought no one had ever looked more beautiful.

“I’d been — I’d been putting it off, of course. Just seemed kinda like a waste, going some place nice and not having anyone to share it with.”

Bucky turned to him, face unreadable, and Steve held his breath.

“I don’t know,” he drawled out and looked away. “I don’t think I’m worth all of this, Steve.”

“What happened — that wasn’t you, Buck.”

“Yeah, but I still did it.”

“Then it’s my fault too, for not going after you.”

“Steve, no—”

“You and everyone else can try to assure me it’s not, but it’s true. So much for ‘no man gets left behind’ when I didn’t even try to find your body.”

“I don’t blame you for that,” he said, light blue eyes boring into Steve’s. “I died. I was supposed to stay dead. And for a matter of fact, so were you. And yet, here we are. Different war, different century, but still a party in a Stark mansion.”

“No fondue, though,” Steve said, and felt so proud when Bucky gave him a small smile.

“I thought he was Howard with a goatee,” Bucky admitted and Steve actually laughed. “More talkative, but then again Howard wouldn’t shut up either.”

“You know, he kinda grows on you.”

Silence settled again, but this was easier.

“Fireworks are gonna start soon,” Steve remarked after a few minutes. “Aren’t you hot in that jacket?”

Not that he didn’t appreciate just how good Bucky looked in that jacket, but it was still at least eighty degrees plus humidity, and Steve was sweating in his short-sleeved shirt.

But Bucky shook his head. “Kinda have a hard time feeling warm, anymore.”

Steve touched Bucky’s hand, and his skin was like ice. He frowned and took Bucky’s hand in both of his, breathing on it gently. He glanced up to find Bucky watching him, his head tilted a little like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

“I tried to kill you,” he said.

“And yet here we are,” Steve parroted. “Different century, different people, but still together.”

“I have an idea — of, of what we should do,” Bucky blurted. Steve could feel his pulse rise. “And, I guess, it’s really up to you, but I was just thinking, you know? That maybe, especially after what happened, that just maybe, I mean you didn’t get one before, so I thought, maybe… um…”

Steve swallowed as Bucky trailed off, when what Bucky was asking dawned on him. Bucky looked at him a little panicked, his mouth opening and closing a few times, but nothing coming out. Steve didn’t have to think about his answer.

He slid smoothly down to one knee, both hands still gripping Bucky’s, gazing up at Bucky as Bucky stared back down with wide eyes.

“I don’t know much about fate,” Steve started, the words coming to him easily. “But I know a good thing when I see it. I know when something’s worth fighting for. I missed my chance the first time, and I’m truly, truly blessed to get an opportunity to make it right. After everything that happened, after everything that happened to us to make us get here… I want to make sure this goes right. I don’t want to be alone, never did, and I wasted the past few years. I was selfish. I had this whole amazing world right in front of me, full of wonders, and I wanted none of it. Not without my best guy at my side.”

Bucky had gone very pale and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in his throat. Steve’s palms had gotten sweaty, but he couldn’t — and wouldn’t — back down now.

“I love you, James Buchanan Barnes. I always have, and I always will, until the end of the line. And I would be honored if you would be my Happily Ever After.”

Bucky didn’t speak for several long moments.

“You’re an idiot,” he choked out, sounding suspiciously close to crying. “I just, you know, meant to maybe think about it, you know—”

“Think about it?” Steve repeated, and stood back up. “I have done nothing but think about it for the past three years, ever since I woke up.”

“I’m different,” he said, his eyes watering. “After everything I did — and don’t argue with me Steve, whether I was in control or not I still did it — and, and I don’t know if I’m ever gonna be like I was before all of this, and I’ll probably have nightmares and be real fucked up because I may be back together but there are probably a lot of cracks in the foundation—”

“Then we’re a perfect a perfect match,” Steve cut him off. “We’re both different. But I think… I hope that even with all our cracks, we’ll still match up perfectly.”

Bucky snorted. “That’s pretty cliché, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who woke up from a coma on my birthday. I know how you hate clichés, but it’s true. All of it.”

Steve moved to put one hand on Bucky’s jaw, smooth from a fresh shave. Bucky sniffed, letting Steve move them closer.

“I guess clichés aren’t so bad, y’know, when they’re happening to you,” he murmured, so close now that Steve could feel his breath on his skin.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… besides, I’ve always wanted to see the Grand Canyon.”

Steve licked his lips, pausing.

“So is that a…”

“Yes, jesus, o’ course I’m saying yes.”

Steve couldn’t tamper his grin. “So you love me.”

Bucky gave him the most exasperated look. “My heart literally went to you before it went to me. What do you want, me to spell it out for ya?”

“That’s exactly what I want.”

“Then I L-O-V-E Y-O-U,” he literally spelled just to be a little shit. “Now will you man up and kiss me already?”

And Steve closed the distance, finally kissing Bucky after so long, and their hearts sang with joy. They jumped apart when the first firework shot off, laughing at their reactions before put in their earplugs. Tony’s firework display was beautiful, and Steve’s chest was so light and happy that he thought he might just burst with them.

Bucky smiled gently and leaned into Steve’s side, eyes wide in wonder at the beauty. Steve couldn’t help stealing more kisses — on his lips, on his cheeks, his forehead. Bucky was just so kissable, after all.

Eventually Bucky slumped, exhausted just after a short activity. Steve pulled him closed and hugged him tight, promising that it’s okay, I’ve got you.

Bucky passed out and Steve caught him, so, so gentle with him as he lifted him up. He jumped off the balcony, not running away anymore, but walking to Bucky’s room, laying him carefully on the bed. Bucky did not wake, not even as Steve undressed him to his boxers and laid three blankets on top of him to compensate. Steve then undressed into comfy clothes and settled in his armchair beside the bed, unable to keep the happy grin off his face.

Because Bucky would wake in the morning, and the morning after that, and the morning after that, and for as many mornings as Steve could count, and maybe they wouldn’t all be happy, but they would be together and alive and Steve would let nothing to pull them apart ever again.

And Bucky was right, of course. It wasn’t easy and it’s never as easy as the Tales would lend you to believe. They fought and laughed and cried and loved so much that they could hardly contain it. But they weren’t alone. They had friends and comrades and people who always had their back, no matter what, and Bucky was free to explore and feel everything that had been taken away from him.

This was a family that they had forged together in battle and in blood and together, nothing could take them down.

Steve and Bucky’s wedding and their Happily Ever After, of course, was talk of the town, becoming the most famous Story in recent history.

And people would sing and talk of them for years and years to come, everyone wishing to have a bond as strong as theirs, to be able to last through the centuries and remain so strong that a few simple words could break the curses of evil men.

Bonds so deep surpassed even the worst of tortures, which clung to the very marrow of bones and thread through each and every cell, that laced every breath and sigh, permeating down to the very last atom of their being. Steve and Bucky wouldn’t think about it too much, about their orbit around each other, gravitating towards each other without thought, the easy touches and easier kisses and trust so sure that no one and nothing could shake it, but they knew.

Steve, surrounded by his family, felt finally ready to take on whatever the new century threw at him.

(And they did get a dog, a rescued pit bull, and took her on their trip to the Grand Canyon.)

And they lived Happily Ever After.

The End.