Chapter Text
The smell of evergreen filled Steve's kitchen and drifted out into the nearby rooms of his floor of the Tower. The source of the scent was not a Christmas tree (Steve wanted to wait until it was a little further from Thanksgiving to get one). Instead, the smell came from a fresh advent wreath. Steve carefully set each of the four candles in their places and smiled.
It had been nice to discover during his first Christmas out of the ice that many Christmas traditions had remained the same. Plenty had been added, but the holiday still felt familiar to him. Steve remembered how the fresh smell and light from the wreath used to fill his and his Ma's cramped apartment. Money was tight, so they always reused the candles for as long as they could. Some years they couldn't afford the evergreen wreath, so they made their own from bits that fell off people's Christmas trees. Bucky had often helped Steve to gather the fallen sprigs from the streets.
A pang went through Steve’s heart at the thought, and he gripped the matchbox in his hand a little tighter. There was still no sign of his missing best friend. Steve wouldn't give up though. No matter what anyone else said, he would hold to hope.
Hope . Steve smiled. That was the name of the first candle. He struck a match and held it to the wick, and a warm light filled the kitchen.
A few minutes later, Bruce stuck his head in through the open hall door.
"It looks festive in here. I think you're the only one besides Tony to have anything up this early," Bruce said.
Tony had barely been restrained by Pepper from putting up Christmas decorations before Thanksgiving, and as soon as Friday dawned he had begun playing Christmas music and putting Santa hats on everyone and everything. He hadn't stopped yet.
"Advent started early this year," Steve said. "I'll put the rest of my decorations up more slowly and let Tony keep the 'Most Eager for Christmas' award."
Bruce stepped fully into the room and came over to look more closely at the wreath.
"I haven't seen one of these since I was a kid," he said with slight surprise as he sat down at Steve's kitchen table. "I haven't spent Christmas anywhere homey for a long time. Which candle is this?" Bruce pointed to the lit one. "I remember there were a couple different ways to name them."
Steve nodded. "This one's the candle of hope."
"Because Christmas is all about hope." Bruce sounded a little bitter, and Steve looked at him in surprise.
"Sorry," Bruce apologized. "I didn't mean it to sound that way. It's just… when you always have to worry about a giant green monster and people's reactions to him, you kind of get tired of the 'just keep hoping and you'll experience a Christmas miracle' idea. Plus, I've spent Christmas in poor villages cut off from the rest of the world. There isn't a lot to hope for if you live in a place no one cares about."
Steve understood, probably better than Bruce expected him to. "My first Christmas out of the ice, I wasn't too interested in the Hallmark movie type of 'Christmas miracle' either. They tend to rely on loved ones, and all of mine were gone."
Bruce winced in sympathy and nodded. "Hope at Christmastime can be hard to find if you're an outcast."
"That candle doesn't mean hope in Santa Clause or Christmas magic, though," Steve said. He didn’t want Bruce to think he was offering a quick fix to his problems, but he couldn’t keep silent about his beliefs. Besides, Bruce seemed to want to know what the tradition meant. "It represents the hope of those who waited centuries for the coming of the Messiah and the hope to be had now because of Jesus's birth: Emmanuel, 'God with us.' It's a hope even outcasts can have." Steve smiled. "Frozen super soldiers, doctors with hidden monsters, and inhabitants of remote villages included."
"A little less sparkling fairy dust in that kind of hope," Bruce observed.
Steve gave a small smile. "Definitely no fairy dust at the first Christmas, only real dust and the light of the stars."
"I've spent plenty of Christmases with just dust and stars myself," Bruce said, "but I won't mind having a comfortable bed and friendly people around this year."
Steve nodded, accepting the transition to lighter matters. "I agree. I'm glad Tony's making us all celebrate Christmas here."
"Well," Bruce said, rising from his seat, "I like your kind of Christmas hope. I'd better head up to the lab now, though. Tony asked me to come help him, and if I delay too long he might blow something up."
JARVIS spoke from the ceiling, "If I may say so, Dr. Banner, there is currently a forty percent chance that Sir will cause an explosion."
Bruce raised his eyebrows and Steve laughed.
"You'd better go then; we don't want any explosions."
After Bruce had hurried off to help Tony, Steve looked back at the lit candle flame. It was comforting not only in its familiarity but in its truth. He had hope going into this Christmas and New Year, and he knew it was built on a solid foundation.