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Steve ruminates on his mission as he steps onto the platform. Sam lingers nearby, continuing with his loose-lipped quips about his red-white-and-boring regulator suit.
Steve shakes them off, knowing his friend wasn’t being mean-spirited, and to be fair the suit wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it’s functional and he figures that’s the point of the thick material. Steve waits for Bruce to finish at the makeshift control hub which was really the surviving equipment stacked confidently over another. Bruce is murmuring numbers to himself, moving sprightly over the keys with nimble fingers as he takes in Steve waiting for him on the platform.
“Alright, Steve. This should be a routine drop. Six stones, just put them back in their time periods. I inputted the data into your interface to guide you. As long as you don’t deter from it you should be fine and back in a few hours your time. Here it will be a few seconds. First, Tønsberg 1942,” Bruce says.
Steve nods, “Right, 1942,” he murmurs.
“Hold on a second pal, if you think you’re bringing that mug back to ’42 alone, you better bring along something easier on the eyes,” Bucky chuckles, stepping up next to Steve on the platform.
Steve drinks in Bucky’s appearance; he’s suited up, hair tucked away in a low bun, a playful expression twisting his features as he looks at Steve.
“It’s just a simple drop-off Buck. You don’t need to come,” Steve sighs as he pats his arm, feeling his tendons shiver when they brush against the metal of Bucky’s arm.
“You and I both know this isn’t just a simple drop-off Stevie,” Bucky murmurs as Steve melts under his waning irises. In his reflection, Steve could sense that Bucky knew (of course he knew). “You kids mind giving us a minute alone?” Bucky looks towards Sam and Bruce and waits until they’re a ways away by the lake before turning his attention back to Steve.
“Did you really think I was going to let you leave me again?”
Bucky’s tone is unforgivingly light, and Steve hates himself at that moment because Bucky should be pissed at him. But here he is with a small smile that wrinkles his eyes which makes Steve’s heart soar.
“Buck–,” Steve tries, but his chest constricts when he feels Bucky pull his shield; Steve hadn’t realized he’d brought it to his chest instinctively, “that’s not what I want. I want–.”
“You want to try again?” Bucky finishes for him, “a do-over of the last eighty years?”
Steve bows his head, inhaling sharply.
“What do you expect to change, huh? If you go back, and you stay? What’s so bad about right now that you want to abandon it for 1942? We won, Steve, we won the war and lived to see what comes from it. And it’s good.”
Despite how soft he spoke, the pain was torturing Bucky. The audacity of Steve to abandon him in this century for another made the bile in his stomach stir up the uncomfortable memories of them being apart. But he knew approaching Steve calmly would rouse the answers that he’d like to know because he knew it was killing Steve too.
“You always said we’re out of time,” Steve speaks through his clouded thoughts of him and Bucky, “but if I knew I had the choice to go back and change the past so that you wouldn’t become the winter soldier, that I wouldn’t have had to pick up this disc to save your ass, and I didn’t take it, then who am I?”
“Right now you’re an idiot, abandoning his partner,” Bucky mutters. “This isn’t a choice you make on your own Stevie,” Bucky sighs, “what you’re doing won’t mean shit to me if I have to wait another seventy years for you. The whole point of the last decade is for us to be together.”
Steve looks up as Bucky thumbs his chin.
“We’re endgame.”
The simplicity of Bucky’s words and that damn smile that makes his eyes wrinkle is enough for Steve. Bucky nods at Bruce and Sam over Steve’s shoulder, and the pair return.
“You’re joining him then I suppose?” Bruce asks though he’s aware from their rather public display of quiet affection that Bucky wasn’t going to let Steve go anywhere without him.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind,” Bucky replies as Bruce grins, “Not at all,” he remarks as he makes additional changes to compensate for him. The last thing he wants is for the two to end up separated by time again.
“How do you think the weather in Florida is that time around?” Bucky wonders aloud as he glances at Steve. “Remember the last time we were in Florida Stevie?”
The question makes Steve flush and Bucky laugh quietly to himself as Sam and Bruce look between the two, confused.
“Your coordinates are on your interfaces. As long as you stay nearby the land zone it’ll be easier for me to bring you back, together,” Bruce explains. “You two good?”
“Never been better,” Bucky grins as he pats Steve on his arm, “lighten up champ, this is going to be fun.”
“We’re good to go, Bruce,” Steve speaks, giving him as well as Sam a reassuring smile before looking at Bucky whose elated expression challenged his own, “Don’t miss us too much.”
“Can’t imagine anyone will miss you in that suit Rogers,” Sam says as the four of them laugh as the system whirs to life.
“See you at the end of the line,” Bucky smirks at Steve who scoffs, grinning back at Bucky. “Not if I get there first.”
A bright surge of light encompassed the two, and then they were gone.
Silence followed as the platform returned to place and Bruce began his countdown. “Alright, should be five-ish seconds– three, four, five–.” Bruce presses down and releases the button, but the platform remained still. He tries again.
“What’s going on, bring them back,” Sam stresses as he approaches Bruce. The panel overwhelms him as Bruce starts pressing a variety of buttons.
“Nothing– nothing’s broken. It’s them– I don’t know. Maybe they strayed too far, I don’t know, but nothing’s wrong on our end,” Bruce trails off as he notices that Sam’s attention is elsewhere.
Bruce follows his gaze towards a part of the lake where a single stone bench stood by a willow tree. The sun cast the silhouette of a frail-looking man perched on the bench. By his feet was something round.
Sam recognized Steve first. He can’t say he’s surprised, and now the lively exchange between Steve and Bucky made more sense to him the closer he approached Steve.
“Captain. I take it the weather in Florida was nice to you,” Sam steps forward, making himself known to Steve as he takes in Steve’s much older appearance.
“Quite,” Steve sighs as he looks at his old friend, “but, I’m not much of a captain anymore. As you can tell.”
Sam nods, but he thinks he can still recognize the young spirit of Steve within this elderly version of his friend, even more so when he smiles towards the lake. “For a while now I’ve been mister Barnes,” he says, raising his left hand to show the gold band on his finger, “well, technically only since twenty-fifteen but time doesn’t put a number on love, you know. Bucky reminded me of that. He liked living near the ocean, said the shoreline’s prettier than any skyline, and it’s easier to forget who you are. Quieter too. I’d have forgotten about this lake entirely if I hadn’t found his journal. He really loved this lake, and I couldn’t understand why he wanted me to return on this day at this time in particular. Don’t be late! He always says. Now I know why.”
Sam nods slowly, listening to the wind whistle around them as he watched Steve speak. Sam isn’t sure whether to ask about Bucky, but he assumes the only answer from his absence.
“We all live on borrowed time, and death is what makes us equal in the eyes of whoever’s responsible for this insufferable reality. I wanted Bucky and me to get back the decades that were stolen from us.”
“Did you, Steve?”
“We did,” Steve nods with a small smile, “fifty wonderful years.” Steve bows his head, quietly ruminating on the years he was able to spend with Bucky, “But even heroes aren’t immune from cancer,” Steve sighs shakily, coughing, and it’s then that Sam really realizes how weathered Steve appears, and he murmurs an apology for his fallen friend as Steve collects himself, “There’s no need to feel sorry for him or myself, Sam. Bucky wasn’t afraid of it. He sure as hell didn’t let it stop him. From the youth support programs he started in Brooklyn, to the rehabilitation center he worked in until the day he passed, Bucky fulfilled his purpose long before cancer beat him. And even so, Bucky survives in the memory of everyone he’s helped, and he would love knowing that our daughter continued his work and is inspiring others himself,” Steve murmurs as he looks around the lake. As he looks at Sam, he blinks in his direction, “Oh,” he whispers, “sorry son, am I in your seat? I’m just waiting for a friend.”
“It’s me, Sam,” Sam says as Steve looks at him blankly, “your friend. You were talking about Bucky and your daughter?”
“Oh, yes, yes, Bucky,” Steve chuckles, “forgive me, Sam, my mind isn’t as nimble as it was when I was younger.”
“It’s okay Steve,” Sam reassures him. “You were saying earlier, that Bucky wanted you to come here to the lake.”
“Yes, yes, he did. Always remind me not to be late,” Steve says as he twists himself towards the brown bag next to him. He unzips the bag, revealing the shield. “I kept this all these years. Bucky said I should; said to keep it until this moment. Until now it’s been a nice conversation piece in our downstairs bathroom,” Steve chuckles. He pulls the shield from the bag, his fingers dance over his reflection its battered surface; he swears he sees Bucky in it too.
“When I became the captain, I tried to make sure that I kept the doctor’s promise; to remain the same Brooklyn kid I was born and raised. For a couple of years during Thanos, I thought he’d died, but I think going back, and staying, with Bucky, reminded me that he’s always been in there. The purpose of Captain America has always been to be a figure who stands up to bullies bigger than himself, to be a beacon for the people whose voices aren’t heard. To be a leader who doesn’t fight in wars to just kill the enemy, but to end wars for the sake of peace among brothers. And now, the war is over. For myself at least; criminals don’t retire for a pension, and I’m certain there’s always someone stirring trouble who’ll have the unfortunate day of crossing you.”
“Wait– me?” Sam barely registers Steve’s acknowledgment of himself when he feels the shield being placed in his hands. “S-Steve, I– I can’t. This is yours,” Sam breathes as he begins to push the shield away.
“Bucky knew you wouldn’t accept it willingly,” Steve says, with a raised brow, “We had a bet; said he’d gladly gloat alongside Benjamin Franklin to your face for being so stubborn.”
“Sound like him,” Sam shakes his head in disbelief, but laughs along with Steve at the mention of Bucky’s mischief, “but are you sure about this Steve?”
“More than anything. We always knew you’d be the one,” Steve says, smiling, “you’ve got heart, Sam. I can’t think of anyone more deserving. So please, take it,” Steve continues as he raises the shield.
Sam sighs, knowing he couldn’t turn down Steve’s offer. As a friend of Steve’s and Bucky’s– wherever he may be– he just wanted to make sure he didn’t disappoint either of them. He feels a chill run down his spine as he slowly takes the shield by its rim, carefully lifting it off Steve’s lap before sliding it over his arm.
Sam is overwhelmed with emotion as he looks at the shield weighing down his left arm. He could feel the history, the importance of the shield resting in his grip.
“Thank you, Steve,” Sam whispers as Steve smiles at him, a light breeze hitting his cheek and forehead that makes him melt.
“Dad, some of your friends want to see you,” A gentle voice calls out to Steve as he and Sam glance behind them. Steve’s smile doesn’t wane as he takes the woman’s hand and leads her around the bench.
“Sam, this is Natalia, my daughter,” Steve explains.
“Doctor Natalia Rogers-Barnes,” Natalia emphasizes as she shakes Sam’s hands, “Is this the uncle Sam you and dad always talked about for the last thirty-seven years of my life?”
“In the flesh,” Sam chuckles in disbelief.
“Oh, nice to finally meet you, uncle Sam, though I think I’m the older one between us,” Natalia chuckles as she shakes his hand, though it’s quickly decided between the two that a hug is in order.
“Natalia sweetheart,” Steve calls for his daughter who moves to his side, taking his hand. “I want to speak to the others. They’re probably very confused.”
“Something like that,” Natalia chuckles, “but they seem to be warming up to James,” she glances at her son who’s found curious interest in Bruce’s appearance– and then he swung his arm, right into Bruce’s eye, “Steven-James!” She gasps.
“It’s alright, I’m fine!” Bruce assures her.
“Come on then dad, they all missed you. And they can’t wait to hear what you’ve been up to the last eighty years,” Natalia says to her father as she helps him stand.
Natalia and Sam walk alongside Steve to the rest of the group who were waiting, watching the trio approach them with a sort of comfortable silence, knowing that the Steve they see may look different, but he’s still the same Steve Rogers, but he’s happier, fulfilled, having finally reached his endgame.