The Fall - Book 2

257. ‍ ‍...you did go overboard!

DECEMBER 24, 2020 — THE SULLIVAN HOUSE — RÉA

Caroline's house looks very festive. Someone—I'm assuming Steve, since Caroline is on bed rest—hung white icicle lights along the edge of the roof, and two triangular topiaries with fairy lights sit on each side of the front door. A decorated Christmas tree is visible through the living room window, the multicoloured ornaments and lights providing a cheery contrast to the cloudy day.

Under instructions from Steve, Bucky parks in the driveway, and Bruce parks his car on the street. He, Nat, Wanda, and Vision climb out, and Bucky and I do the same. My husband moves to the backseat, removing Conall's car seat carrier, and all seven of us make our way to the stoop. Before we can even knock or ring the doorbell, Steve is flinging the door open, stepping back to let us inside.

"Oh, this is wonderful!" Wanda exclaims.

"Thank you," Caroline calls.

Following her voice, we all file into the living room, finding the brunette sitting on the couch, several throw pillows between her and the arm, keeping her propped up. An afghan is draped across her lap, her sock-clad feet poking out from beneath the edge.

"Oh, good, you did bring Conall!" she makes grabby hands for him, grinning broadly when my husband sets the car seat down, unbuckles our son, and passes him to her. "Hi, sweet boy. You've gotten so big! And look at your festive outfit!"

While she babbles at Conall, I catch Steve watching her with a soft look in his eyes, and love written clear as day on his face. I discreetly nudge Bucky, and tilt my head toward the tall, blonde man; I see a look of fraternal pride form on my husband's face, and when a smile curves his lips, I feel an answering grin form on mine.

"Bucky! Réa!" Adam hollers as he sprints into the room. "I was building LEGOs...wanna see?!"

"Sure, buddy," Bucky and I reply in unison.

"Adam, hold on a minute, sweetie," Caroline says, returning her attention to us. "I want to us all see each other's sweaters, and then you can show Bucky and Réa your LEGOs, okay?"

"Okay, Mom."

All of us show off our 'ugly' Christmas sweaters: Bruce's is red and green with the leg lamp from A Christmas Story on the front; Nat's is green and red with a gold bow; Wanda and Vision are matching in white sweatshirts decorated with gold tinsel, miniature ornaments, and working lights; Steve's is white and blue with the Bumble, the abominable snowman from Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer; Caroline's is red and white with Rudolph and Clarice; mine is a Fair Isle pattern in white and various shades of blue, with TARDISes, Weeping Angels, and the snowmen from Doctor Who; Bucky's is a black t-shirt with a red, green, and white Fair Isle print of Christmas trees, jingle bells, and Nordic snowflakes that says 'THIS IS MY UGLY CHRISTMAS SWEATER'...but the best of them all—at least in my opinion—is Adam's.

"I made it myself!" he proudly proclaims as he shows off his plain, green sweater...with a drawing of Bucky's vibranium arm wrapped in Christmas lights taped to the front.

Amidst choruses of 'that's awesome' and 'wow' from the others, Bucky squats down so he's at eye-level with Adam.

"Thank you, Adam. That's very cool."

"Even though Steve is really nice, and a lot of fun to hang out with, you're still my favourite Avenger," the little boy quietly replies.

"Well, I'm very honoured to hold that title," my husband replies, his voice thick with emotions.

"You can have the drawing, if you want."

"I'd love that, Adam. Thank you." Bucky swallows audibly. "Why don't I get it from you before I leave? Would that be alright?"