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Year #1 – Thanksgiving
“So we’ll see you at 3 tomorrow?” Pepper asks Steve, leaning back into Tony on the couch.
“For what?” Steve asks, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
“Thanksgiving,” Tony says, the duh thick in his voice. “Thor’s not gonna make it, but the others will.”
A wave of nausea sweeps through Steve, but he doesn’t let it show on his face. Instead he says, “I’m actually going to be visiting friends. Well, children of friends. See what I missed.”
“Anyone we know?” Tony asks.
“No,” Steve says, forcing his media smile onto his face. Tony buys it and doesn’t push. Steve tries not to be disappointed.
-
A part of him wonders if he should look up Bucky’s sisters, see what’s happened to them – but for him, Bucky’s still only two months gone, and he’s not quite ready to say goodbye. Not again.
He can’t lose all of them so quickly.
-
The next day at three o’clock, on his first Thanksgiving back, Steve doesn’t get out of bed. He turns his phone off and stays curled in on himself.
He pushes away images of an exhausted Bucky walking through the door, snow dusting his hair and coat as he pulls a little turkey out of a bag – presenting it to Steve with a flourish.
(“Gonna be a real Thanksgiving this year, pal,” he says, setting the little bird on the counter.
“Buck—”
“Please, Stevie,” Bucky says, turning to look at Steve, “it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”)
And Steve always worried anyway, but – every year Steve hadn’t been too sick – Bucky always brought home a turkey.
-
Christmas
“Can you do Christmas with us, Cap?” Tony asks over the ear pierce as Steve hands off the last of the baddies to the police.
“Can’t,” Steve says automatically, “got a date.” The lie slips from his lips so easily he wonders if he should be worried.
Natasha’s head whips around to look at him – her eyes narrow, but she stays silent.
“Bring her with you,” Tony says, landing.
“Nope,” Steve says, popping the p syllable as he retrieves his shield.
“That’s cold, Cap,” Tony calls after him.
Steve doesn’t say anything.
-
Steve still gives gifts to his team – buying a new sniper scope for Clint, garrote wire for Natasha, a Zen candle giftset thing for Bruce, and does a sketching of Pepper and Tony sitting close together, their heads bent together as they laugh into each other’s space.
“Are you sure you can’t come over tomorrow?” Pepper asks, still blinking wetly as the sketch.
“I’m sure,” Steve says, stepping back towards the elevator. “I have a thing.”
Tony’s throat is working before he looks up to Steve, says, “Thanks.” And he looks raw, like he’s been cracked open – and it’s too much emotion for Steve to be dealing with, so he nods again.
“I just wanted to drop this off,” he says, taking another step towards the elevator. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Steve,” Pepper calls after him.
-
Steve buys groceries and spends the rest of Christmas Eve cooking.
(“One day, Bucky,” Steve says, ladling soup into first his bowl and then Bucky’s. “One day we’re going to have a proper Christmas feast. Just like the ones your ma and my ma used to cook.”
“Is that right?” Bucky asks, pulling two spoons out of the drawer and passing one to Steve.
“Yep,” Steve answers, taking the spoon and grabbing the half-loaf of bread from the counter before he and Bucky sat at their little table.
Bucky takes the bread and tears himself off a piece. “What are we going to cook?” he asks.
“Turkey,” Steve says, automatic. “We’ll have turkey and mashed potatoes and stuffing; maybe some corn and carrots. We’ll definitely have cookies and cake.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Bucky says, lifting his glass of one dollar whiskey.)
On Christmas Day, Steve sets the table for two – and, after pouring himself something dark and red, doesn’t eat anything.
The next day, Steve heats everything up and makes plates, covering them in tinfoil, and spends the rest of the day walking his neighborhood and passing them out to whoever looked like they were hungry.
-x-
Year #2 – Thanksgiving
Steve hears Bucky screaming as he pulls the turkey out of the oven, the wave of heat only just barely pushing away the chill of winter mountain gales.
(“Bucky!”)
Steve stares at the turkey – beautifully browned, the grease glinting under his kitchen light.
(“Hold on!”)
Steve closes his eyes, turns the oven off. He hears his phone chirp at him and ignores it – instead glances at his television, at the dogs parading fancy up and down the arena. Then he turns away, pulls two plates out of his cupboards and begins setting the table.
-
Christmas
Steve does another sketch for Tony and Pepper. He buys Natasha a thousand-watt taser that looks like ChapStick, buys Clint a new knife, buys Bruce an expensive cognac – knowing that since Bruce had moved into the Tower, that he’d need it.
Once he hears that Thor’s back planet-side, he sketches out the night sky as he remembers it from lying in cold French fields, staring up at an endless blanket of stars.
“I know you’ve seen better,” Steve says, handing the picture over. “But I couldn’t really think of anything else to give you.”
“Steve,” Thor starts, stops as if his words were stuck. Then he says, “With your circumstances—your memories are all you have. To share one with me, it’s—thank you, my friend.”
Steve swallows tightly, pretends Thor’s words don’t hit as closely as they do.
-
Steve is coming home from grocery shopping for Christmas dinner when he finds Thor outside of his apartment.
“What’s up?” Steve asks, shifting the bags as he reaches for the keys – Thor takes one of the bags, freeing Steve’s hand.
Thor doesn’t answer until they’re both inside.
“I know you eat much more than normal humans,” Thor says. “But this is a lot of food for even two people.”
“I’m stocking up,” Steve answers. “It’s nice being able to do that.”
“You shared a memory with me,” Thor says, “let me do the same for you.”
“I don’t—”
“Long after Loki stopped feasting with us,” Thor interrupts, “I would set several plates aside for him. After he—after, I still found myself making plates. Setting food aside. It was one of the reasons I found my way back to Midgard after – it was to try to stop the habit.”
Steve looks at the too big turkey he’s bought. “Did it work?”
“It might have,” Thor says; Steve can hear the shrug without looking over. “But then I found out Loki was still alive, so—”
Steve can’t help the irrational anger he feels then, can’t help but spit: “So your advice is useless, then.” He whirls around, snarls, “You have Loki back. Me? The person I’m waiting on isn’t coming back. I’m alone.”
“It may seem so, right now,” Thor says, voice low, “but you are not. The Avengers—”
“You need to leave,” Steve cuts in, turning away.
-
Steve burns the turkey.
(“A burnt turkey is still a turkey,” Steve says, snickering behind his hand.
“Who asked you?” Bucky snaps, angry with himself.)
(Lightning strikes the docks and sparks fly and a warehouse burns and Bucky stinks of smoke for days.)
(Steve leaps over flame, pulls him and Bucky from the embers and ash and pretends that they’re still whole as they walk into the cold forest.)
-
The next mission – Steve drags it out, waits until he’s cut open and bleeding, before he really lets loose.
-
“Why’d you do that?” Natasha asks, sewing up a long gash along Steve’s ribs.
“Just wanted to feel something,” he answers.
She doesn’t say anything.
-
Rebecca Barnes finds him one day.
She’s old, leaning on a grandson as she points a gnarled finger at him, rasps, “I still love you, Steve. And if you had arrived just a little bit sooner, we could have all told you that.”
She passes not long after, and Steve goes to the funeral in full dress uniform – delivers the eulogy and pretends that he’s not crying for both her and Bucky.
“I’ll never forget,” he says to her casket, blinking away the flash of a camera, “the way you made Bucky cower before you. You were half his age and twice as scary, Becca. I’m sorry—” Steve swallows. “I’m sorry I couldn’t bring him back home – I’m sorry I didn’t come home.”
“No one ever blamed you,” Rebecca’s daughter says after.
Steve just nods and says, “Thank you.” He doesn’t add: No one has to or I blame myself so it’s okay.
-x-
Year #3 – Thanksgiving
Steve stares at his frozen turkey on the counter before he turns away.
-
Steve thinks about the black man he’s run past for two days now, wonders if this is part of the moving on he’s supposed to be doing.
The third time he runs by, the ninth time he’s yelled, “On your left,” Steve wonders – but then he cuts himself off.
-
“I have a mission for you,” Fury says just as Steve’s flipped his oven to the right temperature.
“Happy Thanksgiving to you, too, Nick,” Steve says, even as he slides his turkey back into the freezer.
“Are you up to it?” Fury asks.
“Tell me what you’ve got,” Steve answers.
(“Beautiful,” Steve says, taking the turkey Bucky hands him. He doesn’t know where it came from, doesn’t really care. He ignores Dum Dum’s indignant shouts – ignores the way Gabe or any of the others look at him.
“Only the best for you, Stevie,” Bucky says, his voice only just barely above a whisper.)
-x-
Christmas
“Bucky?”
(“Hang on!”)
“Who the hell is Bucky?”
(“No!”)
-x-
Year #4 – Thanksgiving
Steve is in a burned out Hydra base and Sam is glaring.
Steve sets that third place anyway.
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Christmas
“Steve, you know he’s—”
“If I wanted your opinion, I’d ask for it.”
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Year #5 – Thanksgiving
“We’re going to be okay, Buck,” Steve says, ignoring the way the lie tastes like acid in his mouth.
“Your friends are—”
“I know,” Steve interrupts, scrubs a hand over his face. “I know.”
-
Christmas
“I love you,” Bucky says, looking up at the sky. He feels his face contorting in ways he keeps trying to fight – but as he looks down at the stone, he knows it’s a battle he’s lost. “Merry Christmas, Steve,” Bucky says, choking on the words.
-
When he gets to Steve’s empty apartment – Bucky sets a spot for two.
He doesn’t eat anything.
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End.