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It’s a worn path through the grass now, the tread of the wagons’s tires and smoothed path from his aged feet. It’s a pilgrimage really, a daily ritual of the last true practitioner of their love. He was and is the last to uphold their love. Where there had once been three beautiful beating hearts, there was now only the one.
He hadn’t thought it would be him. He was always the one quick to throw a punch or stick his nose were it didn’t belong to ‘save the little guy’. Even when he was the little guy. He was the one whom from birth the doctors were surprised survived the day. He was the one who volunteered to go to war. He was apologetically himself. Even now with yet another tally on the board, another year older, another year without them.
Slowly arthritic hands release the easy catch on his sitting chair then move to set up his one touch umbrella. It’s a fairly warm morning in July. Despite the sun’s warmth, he felt rather cold.
Maybe their reunion is fast approaching?
He shakes his head of that thought and moves to grab his tablet then sitting down in his chair looking down at the shared marker.
“I have to tell you, Morgan and Peter came by with their kids and the great grand kids last night, just like they always do. They’re all such a hand full.” Steve began turning the tablet towards the shared grave marker. “We had cake and ice cream to celebrate my birthday.”
He scrolled through the photos in front of the grave. Once he was done with the presentation he sighed. Turning to his favorite album on his tablet. It was an album he had made sure Peter saved to ‘the cloud’ and one he kept on his phone also. He looked at the video and felt his eyelashes dampen.
It was a video titled: Grandpa Steve’s 55th birthday. The video was 20 years old now. Twenty years since Buck went to take a nap and never got up again. There last interactions saved unknowingly by their eldest grandson’s meddling with the GoPro they’d bought him the previous Christmas. That candid footage had meant the world to him.
Steve pressed the screen to start the video recording. His eyes water as his ears listen to their laughter. The laughter of the two people he loved most in the world. The foundations of his entire being.
Bucky whom went peacefully in his sleep after a day at the lake house entertaining their large family. Bucky had always said even when they were boy’s. He’s almost seemed to wish for it. Something painless and quick. He’d witnessed the family dog get run over by a car and lay dying on the curbside for hours finally dying about an hour before their father got home to bury her. He’d later seen his father have a heart attack and cancer steal both their mothers before they were even twenty.
Nah, Stevie when I go I want it to be quick and peaceful like… Like how Brig our cat went. Peaceful like in her sleep… His eyes had had such a fondness almost envy as he spoke about his childhood orange tabby with green eyes that sparkled like emeralds. He raised his beer to his lips and pointed across the bar. Look at that hottie over there… you think that redhead knows the brunette? Steve thought she was under dressed in black ankle boots and a green romper decorated in a red ribbon. She looked like a Christmas present in the middle of May. But then again when she moved they bumped into Tony.
Tony who’s heart became progressively weaker but not before that sharp, beautiful mind he’d prided himself on slipped away. It was a long five years… to Steve it had gone on for centuries it seemed only to end in a few brief moments.
Steve refused until the very end to place Tony in hospice. They had a home care nurse live with them. Until it finally came time for him to go. For them to admit the fight was over. For him to admit it. Tony would look at him with no recognition at all most days by that point.
The nurse in the room with him had been tall, her red hair held back by a green headband decorated in nearly pressed on red flowers. She was smiling at Tony as he mumbled incoherently to her. He barely remembered who he was much less who anyone else was. Steve had stood outside the door like a shy child and listened to them.
There’s days I wish I could have stayed longer… That we’d had more time… I want to wish for something else. Something more than this…
The woman spoke to him in such a calm voice.
Mr. Stark… Everything is going to be alright. You should rest. Your husband will be here soon. You can be together then…
I just wish it could have been different. Like not the story…
he’s quick to say.
Just this ending… i don’t like it… I don’t like any of this…
and that was the beginning of another rage fit. The reason he’d had to finally be homed.
She had remained calm and just shushed him and waited for his fit to stop. Once he was resting she turned his TV on and left the room walking right be Steve with a kind smile. Her name badge had read Kildare.
A few weeks after that encounter Steve received a call from Ms. Kildare telling him to come to the hospice center. Steve had arrived and carefully taken his beloved’s hand knowing now the long centuries it felt like they had been fighting his poor heart and failing mind was rapidly coming to an end. Those confused brown eyes brightening one last time in recognition then going dark and still, their fingers strongly interlaced his still holding strong and Tony’s lifeless.
Steve had left a part of himself there that day. Knowing the foundation of his entire world was now officially collapsed.
The man who held his hand when they lowered his mother into the ground was already waiting arms wide open to receive their beloved when his heart failed.
But not here in this video… No here they’re still so alive and so vibrant. Laughing and teasing… singing him Happy Birthday and decorating his cheeks in frosting while their kids and grand kids make gagging noises.
There were days he wished he could go back to then. Just relive that day again up to the moment Buck kissed him on the cheek and motioned towards the house saying he was going for a quick nap and don’t forget to wake me for dinner Punk !
Just one more day, one more time… it’s a simple wish really…
Steve Rogers wishes because it was what humans do. Humans who are born with only a finite amount of time, sparsely related skills and the ability to do anything with them. And so he wished… it was something that echoed in his heart as he sat their in his chair watching the video on his tablet, rivers streaming down his face.
10 years wishing Bucky would walk back out of that door laughing at his own stupid prank.
5 years wishing Tony would remember everything.
3 years wishing Tony remembered the important things.
1 year pleading with the seemingly spiteful god that had given him everything he’d ever wanted to just take his beloved, what was left with his mind all but eroded away…
1 day regretting it all and pleading for more time in a hospice chapel.
Another 10 years of wishing they were both still here. Another candle blown out on a cake as the silent plea ghosts over the cake extinguishing the flames.
Except today is the day.
Steve didn’t hear her approach.
The young woman stands beside him awhile her figure hidden behind a large red umbrella. Her black knee length combat boots meeting the hem of a green summer dress.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rogers.” The smile is clear in her light almost childlike voice.
Steve looked up and paused remembering his daughter wearing a similar outfit so many years ago at the lake house. It has been the year before she introduced them to Kate. Steve and Bucky has gone to have words with Clint about his apprentice.
Her hair was a flaming red with her eyes a wild greyish green. They glistened as she looked him over. “They all speak very highly of you Mr. Rogers. Even Mr. Rumlow…” she twirled her umbrella. “Your son’s in the car reading the paper…” she said not turning around. “We should head home now… everyone is waiting…”
Steve opened his tablet and text his son. A few minutes later Peter appeared and assisted his father with loading up his wagon and heading back to the car.
The young redhead in the green dress followed.
At home she seemed to dance upon the air recounting memories from within the home. Singing words only Steve could have known, words spoken long before the lovers adopted their first child and became fathers. Long before they drank a little too much and decided to start their own company. Long before the loss of love and memories… Of a world only Steve could have possibly known now.
Something about her behavior tired him so. He excused himself from his son’s company to retire to his room with a cup of warm coffee in his hands. The young woman following close behind.
Carefully she stood at the foot of the bed and gently placed a small hand on his ankle.
“My name is Bridget, Mr. Rogers. I am here to grant you one wish.” She said thumb rubbing comforting circles into his ankle.
“It was always you wasn’t it? All this time?” He asked carefully taking a sip of his coffee feeling it warm him for a moment before the cold returned. His chest was feeling a little tight.
She merely smiles, it's so mischievous and wise, just like that old cat. Her eyes are calm and caring like Tony's nurse. She pat's his knee, "What's your wish Mr. Rogers?"
Steve took in a deep breath like one does when they go to blow out the candles on their cake. He exhausted the wish just on his lips.
He could hear their laughter, younger, healthier… from years ago when they had just bought this home. They’d been so young then… so full of life and love and hope.
They’d been three beautiful hearts overflowing with love.
Something crawled up Peter’s spine as the sound of shattering glass echoed through the house and he ran into his father’s room. The stillness in the air took his breath away.
Within the week according to the old ways, they were reunited again, the land above their grave disturbed for the last time.
Family and friends wearing black for their sake for the last time. Everyone gathering around with them just this last time.
Steve’s wish in a way granted. It was a simple wish after all:
I want us all to be together again one last time. Then I’ll go.