Your Doll (3/3)

Epilogue

The sun's rays leaked across the sky in vibrant stripes of gold and yellow, trees created a bumpy silhouette over the horizon line and the sky was a mesh of pale oranges and vermillion.

Bucky sank back into Steve's arms, leaning his head onto the super soldier's chest and drawing imaginary figurines on his leg. His hand ran through Bucky's hair and played with it whilst Steve back leant against the big oak tree that was casting a welcome shadow over where they sat.

A red and white checkered picnic blanket was neatly laid out in front of them, covered in the scattered remnants of their dinner: boxes of fruit; empty bowls previously filled with pasta; plates once covered in chocolate cake; an almost empty whine bottle and two glasses. 

Both of the men watched on with content smiles as their children played - y/n's little hands grabbing for her brother, Pietro, as they tumbled in the grass, giggling and shrieking.

Bucky smiled fondly and sighed, nuzzling his head into Steve's chest. The younger man felt his heart flutter at the gesture, especially as their position made the gold wedding band wrapped around Bucky's finger glint under the warm sun.

"I love you." Steve mumbled, pressing a soft kiss into Bucky's hair.

"I love you too." Bucky parroted, a goofy grin capturing his lips as he watched their little y/n trip up Pietro.

"They're so sweet." Steve mused, his grin matching his husband's as they watched their kids play.

"They are." Bucky agreed.

The warm breeze tickled Bucky's cheeks as they soaked up the silence, comfortable just to be with each other after all they'd gone through.

After all they'd lost.

...
Turns out, y/n had left multiple letters for the boys after she had died.

Multiple letters that Steve had to stop Bucky from ripping up in his grief-caused anger.

There were three letters, each marked with occasions to be opened.

The first was addressed to Steve and Bucky for:

'When you find yourselves at the end of your grieving'

It took the super soldiers nearly a year to open that letter.

Inside, the note detailed how y/n was once pregnant but lost the child. How she felt unfathomable guilt over never mustering courage to tell Steve. About how she wished they'd one day get children of their own.

After a few more tears were shed, Bucky was on the phone with every adoption agency in New York.

Within the next year, Steve and Bucky had a little girl running around. Her skin matched y/n's, her eyes held the same colour and her hair even looked similar.

They named their daughter after y/n.

The second letter was addressed to Bucky, for;

'when Steve finally pops the question'.

That name made the boys giggle a little.

When the time had come, Bucky had torn into the envelope, anxious to find out what y/n had been meaning to tell him after three years of waiting.

He had sobbed his way through the letter.

To my Soldier,

I know how you sometimes struggle with your words, or articulating what you want to say. So, I thought I'd give you a cheat sheet when it comes to your vows (I know Steve would have elected for the two of you to write your own, the sappy bastard).

So, don't feel like you have to use them, but I thought you may appreciate the help.

Dearest Steve,

We met many years ago, when I socked a kid in the nose for you. Then, we moved in together. Went dancing together, took girls on dates together. Then I thought about us kissing together, being in love together.

Unfortunately, the latter never happened.

I fell off a train, and you froze in ice.

Then we met a girl, who bizarrely bought us back together.

Back to living together, back to going on dates together, back to dancing together. And, to my fortune, to kissing together. And being in love together.

Thank you for being my together, for never leaving me alone.

I hope to share a thousand more togethers with you.

I love you.

Steve cried even more at the alter when Bucky read the words aloud.

The third letter was sat in Steve's trembling hands addressed to:

'whomever is unfortunate enough to live the longest'.

He could barely bring himself to open the damn thing, his thumb running shakily under the seal before he removed the small note.

By the time he'd finished, the chair Steve had previously sat on was across the room. The door was splintered in three places. His smart, black suit was crumpled.

Y/n always knew what to say.

She always knew how to keep them going, keep her soldiers alive.

Because she was Their Doll.