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Steve stands by the large floor to ceiling window and looks out at the landscape. As far as the eye can see, there’s nothing but green. When they first got here to Wakanda, Steve loved it. So much nature around them. So peaceful. But with a few exceptions when he had to leave T’Challa’s hospitality, he’s seen nothing else but green for the best of two years now and Steve would love to see the blue of the ocean again. Or grey and white mountains. Maybe the busy colors of a city, of Brooklyn.
But Steve can’t leave. Because Bucky’s here and he is where Bucky is. It’s as simple as that now.
For the first time in his life, Steve has chosen simple over complicated. There are a lot of should’s still on his mind. He should make amends with Tony. He should get the Avengers together and clear this mess up. He should get out there and make future plans.
But Steve’s actively decided to be here and do this. He chose Bucky. And just because he couldn’t go into cryo with him, doesn’t mean that his life has to be any more active and eventful than Bucky’s is.
So Steve stayed in Wakanda. T’Challa’s provided him with his own living quarters. And eventually, for Bucky, too. Though nobody’s ever said it out loud, Steve is pretty sure that he’s the reason why his friend’s cryo chamber was finally moved from the lab into the apartment across the hall from his own - after a few adjustments had been made, of course. Steve assumes the scientists were getting sick of him hanging out down there all the time, usually in the way and weighing down on everyone’s mood.
Realistically, Steve knows that Bucky isn’t really there. This isn’t even like a coma. Bucky’s frozen and no conscious or subconscious part of him is aware of what’s going on around him. But he still insisted that they set him up so he was facing the view outside his room. And he comes to hang out with him every single day.
He set up a chair next to Bucky and has spent many nights there, just sitting with him and eventually falling asleep. On the little end table he’s put next to the chair, books are piling up because when he’s sick of the silence and has said all he could think to say, he often reads to Bucky. They’ve gone through the classics - Moby Dick, Dracula, The Picture of Dorian Gray...anything Steve could find in T’Challa’s vast library - and then moved on to modern literature. Steve’s fascinated by science fiction but often sticks to thrillers because he knows that’s what Bucky enjoys the most.
Today it’s his birthday but it doesn’t feel like any other day. The jungle outside is still green, the sky above still blue, and Bucky is still silent. Steve doesn’t know if anyone here knows it’s his birthday but if they do, he’s glad they don’t make a big deal out of it. It’s a crass change, of course. Having his birthday on the Fourth of July used to mean fireworks and big parties everywhere. But Steve doesn’t want any of that now, doesn’t know if he could take it without Bucky’s teasing grin as he wishes him a happy birthday with the colorful glow from the fireworks dancing on his cheeks. He remembers how much he missed that on the birthdays before he learned that Bucky was still alive and that was bad enough. Now knowing how close they were, and yet so far, he doesn’t think he could take it.
“The first time you kissed me was on my birthday,” he says as he turns away from the scenery to look at Bucky’s calm, unresponsive expression behind the glass. “You got us a double date for the night, like you did so often. It was also the time I came out to you. I still don’t know if you made the connection that I meant you when I said I didn’t want to be with a woman that night. But anyway, you kissed me before the night ended. Full on the lips. Told me it was ‘just a birthday kiss’ later but I think you knew how much it meant to me.”
Steve takes the few steps over and stops right in front of the cryo chamber. He takes in Bucky’s features through the foggy glass. In the beginning, it was eerie to see him look exactly the same every single day. He didn’t age, never showed any differences in skin color, never wore bags under his eyes or zits on his forehead. And the weirdest of all was the complete lack of noise. No breathing or rustling of clothes. It had felt like speaking to a doll. But by now, Steve is used to it and has learned to appreciate that Bucky is here and he’s safe.
“I don’t even know how much you remember. We never got the time to talk about that.”
They’d been left one day and one night together before they put Bucky back under. And there’d been a mutual understanding not to address anything too deep then. They’d kissed and touched as much as possible, as if they’d both needed to charge up on that. And now Steve knows that wasn’t so far from the truth. He still lived off the memories of that day, of tracing Bucky’s skin with the tips of his fingers and trying to find all the things old and new. So now, as he’s trailing them over the smooth glass, he tries to imagine what it felt like to touch the rough stubble on his cheeks.
It’s the second birthday he has to spend this way. The first was different, less sad and melancholy because he had still been full of confidence. But then the months had kept rolling in and before he knew it the year had passed. And now the second birthday is here and Steve wonders how many more he’ll spend here with his silent companion.
“That one year you surprised me by sneaking us into a music club we were too young for? Man, that night was the best.” He laughs to himself and shakes his head as he pushes his hands into his pockets and looks down at his shows. “A complete disaster, of course, like most of the crazy things you planned over the years. But that one dance we got to share before they caught us was worth all the trouble in the world. Of course, we had to be sneaky about it. I’m sure if they’d caught two guys slow-dancing, they would have done much more than kick our asses on the way out.”
He cringes at the memory of that, how many things they never got to experience because of destructive views and double standards of others back then. Things are so much easier these days. Well, if your boyfriend isn’t frozen for an undefined amount of time, Steve guesses.
“I love you, Buck,” Steve blurts out and when he looks up again, his eyes are misty.
There’s this rule that Steve doesn’t want to get carried away by emotions, worn down by the things he can’t change. But right now, it is hard not to lose hope. He knows he’s being selfish and that probably hurts the most. Bucky is safe, no matter how long it takes. It is him who isn’t sure he’s gonna make it through this alive. He is lonely and sad and just wants his best friend and soulmate back.
“I know you’d tell me to stop being a cry baby. Because that’s what I am right now. I just miss you so much. And I’m so tired.” It feels weird to say this because Steve has all but forgotten what physical exhaustion feels like. Nowadays when he says he says it, he means he’s tired of missing and longing and heartache.
He has to turn away for a moment or he’ll lose it completely. He looks at the green outside again and reaches up to wipe at his eyes briefly. In the minute he’s quiet, much to his relief, his tears dry up and he calms down a little. No one’s here to see it but he’s embarrassed in front of the Bucky that isn’t even here with him, the one who knows he can do better, who’s always told him that him taking care of Steve wasn’t because he needed it but because he wanted to. Bucky always knew better how strong Steve really is and how well he can take care of himself.
Sometimes Steve wonders what Bucky will say when he hears that he’s been sitting here with him every single day. Before he went into cryo, he made it clear that he wanted Steve to go and live his life, continue making up for what he’d missed while he was in the ice. But he’s done that before. When he came back and thought he still had a whole life without Bucky ahead of him, he hadn’t known how to deal. Steve isn’t gonna do that now. Not again.
“Buck…” he starts again but is interrupted by a quiet knock on the door.
Steve wipes at his eyes again, feeling a little caught in the act, and then rumbles a weak “Yes?”
The door opens and reveals a flustered T’Challa. Steve can tell he isn’t comfortable interrupting in here and when he thinks about it, he has to admit that it’s the first time he’s seen him in this room since they moved Bucky up here.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, Captain Rogers,” he says and the sentiment puts a weak little smile on Steve’s face. It’s endearing how the king insists on addressing him so formally. But at the same time it’s a reminder of how alone he is here. He gets along fine with T’Challa but he misses the familiarity of his friends’ presence.
The next thing the king says has Steve gaping, though. “I just thought you’d want to be the first to know.” And Steve knows what he means right away.
For a moment he sways on his feet and considers sitting down in the chair but then settles for a steadying hand on the glass. Just for something to say, a reaction to show, he says, “Yeah?”
T’Challa steps up next to him and nods as he lets his gaze wander over the view outside and then focuses on Steve. “We’re ready,” he says and lets it linger for a moment before he goes on. “It isn’t bulletproof but the closest we’ll get. There’ll be a lot work for you and him both but….we can do it.”
He turns away and puts pats Steve’s shoulder before he walks back to the door. “The scientists can explain everything much better. And then we can begin whenever you’re ready.”
Steve watches as he walks out and closes the door, then opens it again and sticks his head in. “Oh, and happy birthday, Captain!” He gives him one of those rare wide smiles and then he’s gone.
For a long moment, Steve is too shaken. He’s wanted this for so long, it seems unreal that it’s finally happening. Steve can’t even tell if he’s capable of that anymore but he’s sure his heart is racing in his chest and it only gets worse when he looks back up at Bucky.
It takes him two strides to make it over there, fully intending to hug the entire cryo chamber but then he just stops and stares at him, searches his face as if he could already see a reaction in there.
“It’s time, Bucky. You’re coming home.”