Positive Regard

Chapter Thirty-Seven

It was a girl, so I didn't have to worry about naming my child Steve--Even Bucky was all for naming a boy Steven Grant. We decided on Stephanie Taylor, mostly because Bucky agreed with Steve, but I liked the name, so it was okay.
I was sitting in a chair in what would be the baby's room while Bucky tried to put together a crib. I'd offered to help, but he wouldn't let me. He wouldn't let me do anything, actually, but at least that way, it didn't take me weeks to get him to paint.
"Babe?" He said.
I sipped my tea. I always hated tea, but I really wanted it. "Use the instructions, honey. This thing can't fall apart."
"I'm not using instructions. Instructions are for the weak." He smiled.
"If it falls apart, I'm gonna beat you with it."
He laughed. "Yes ma'am."
I went back to my book on treatments for ADHD.
"That's not what I was gonna say." He said, so I looked back up. "Okay. So, I was thinking..."
"Think more about reading the instructions."
"I'm not using the instructions! Anyways, I was thinking about doing something about my... issues. I don't want a kid around all of it."
I wanted to ask why the hell he hasn't been doing something about it before, but I just nodded and waited for him to keep talking.
"They said--SHEILD said--that they could wipe my memory. They said it at the beginning but I said no."
"Why would you say no?" I asked, trying not to let him know what I was thinking. If I was tortured for seventy years, I'd be all over that shit.
"I don't--didn't want anybody messing with my head again. You know?"
I nodded. "Makes sense."
"But I was thinking that maybe I should do it. It's not good for you to be around, and you're a grown ass woman who can take care of herself. But it's definitely not good for a kid to be around. I don't wanna screw her up. You know?"
"You've been doing a lot better lately."
"But not always. What if I hurt her? I can't..."
"You haven't hurt me. Or, you know, the dog."
"Yes, but I could."
"So could anyone else. Don't worry about that."
"But I do. I don't wanna mess her up by being messed up. You know?"
"I don't think you would want to do it, Buck."
He moved to sit on the floor in front of me, putting his elbows on my knees. "But I do. I don't want her having to deal with all of it."
"I don't think she'll have to. I barely have to."
"Just every time I wake up, and every time someone says 'longing'--"
"How often does someone saying longing?"
"Not very, but it happens." He smiled a bit. "You do have to deal with a lot, though. You just don't realize it because it's not as much as it was. But I don't want her to have to worry about me and shit. We worried about my dad all the time even though we were sheltered and thought everything was fine."
"You weren't sheltered from shit."
"Mom didn't want us involved in anything. We eavesdropped a lot." He shrugged. "But I think I'm gonna do it. I just wanted to make sure it was okay with you."
"It's your life, sweetie. It doesn't matter what I think. But I don't think you're gonna like it one bit."
"I know. But it's something I have to do."
"You made us fly all the way back to Siberia just so you could prove shit to yourself. I can't see you going through with this."
"It's for Stephanie."
"Do you really want to forget?" I asked.
"Yes. I really, really do. I'm exhausted. I haven't slept good since 1940-something."
"Do you really?" I repeated.
"No. What the hell kind of man would that make me? I'm not weak."
"Nobody's saying you are."
"But I think I should do it."
"Do it, then, if you want."
"Do you think it's changed me?" He ran his hand through his hair. It was getting long again.
"Of course it has."
"Is it bad?"
"No. Not at all. Bad experiences tend to make us better."
"Or hardened criminals." He moved away and started working on the crib again. "But if that's what you think, doll."
"If you were a hardened criminal, you wouldn't be assembling a crib."
"I guess."
"I don't want you to get offended--"
"I won't."
"--But you can't even put anything on your face without having an anxiety attack."
"So?" He sounded offended.
"So I don't know how you'd go about letting someone mess with your head again."
"I fucking can--"
"Stop. This isn't a challenge, baby. I'm just saying. I really don't think you would like it."
"I know I won't."
"Then don't do it."
"It's for Stephanie."
"She'll be okay, Bucky."
"Please just tell me what to do, Rosie."
"It's not my choice to make. It's your head, your life. I don't call the shots."
"Tell me your opinion."
"It's not up to me."
"It's a joint decision. Like the groceries."
I paused. "The groceries aren't joint decisions. I make them all."
"Exactly. So make this one too."
"This isn't deciding which eggs to get, honey. This is deciding how you're going to think and act for the rest of your life."
"I want your input. What do you think I should do?"
"I think Stephanie'll be fine, Buck."
"So don't do it?"
"Do you want to do it? If Stephanie wasn't involved, would you still want to do it?"
He shook his head. "No. I'd stay the hell away."
"Then don't do it."
"I want to do what's best for her."
"I think what's best for her is to have you, no matter what you do. But you've been through a lot and you've changed a lot, but you're still you. I think you're fine how you are."
"Okay, but how have I changed? If you say something other than getting more attractive, I'm not gonna be happy. Just a warning."
I tried not to laugh. "Yes, you've gotten more attractive."
"I certainly think so." He agreed with a smile.
"But in the forties, you weren't exactly marriage material. And you would've flipped your shit if you found out you were having a baby--"
"What are you saying?"
"That you've.... mellowed out. You're more settled."
"Settled? I'm not settled! I'm going to get wasted." He stood up and walked out, his footsteps loud, even when he closed the door behind him. A second later, the door opened again and he stuck his head in. "Do you need anything before I leave?"
"No. I'm good."
"Okay. Love you. I'm gonna go get trashed now."
"All right, sweetie. Call if you need a ride."
I finished putting the crib together. It wasn't like it was that hard with instructions. I really hoped Bucky wasn't about to do that shit. I couldn't deal with him, I had too much to do. He was gonna have to chill out real soon. I couldn't deal with him as he was before the war, or even during the war, and a baby. I didn't want two kids just yet.
He came home an hour later, and I looked up from my book.
"I got coffee." He mumbled, sounding grumpy, as he handed me a cup. "Here."
"I thought you were--"
"Shut up." He grumbled as he sat down beside me. "You're right. I'm lame now. I made a fucking dad joke."
I tried not to smile, because he didn't want me to. "What was your dad joke?"
"The barista asked if I was all right and I said ''No, I'm half left' and she called me sir."
"Was she a kid?"
"Yeah."
"Then you are a sir."
He glowered at me as he stood. "I'm getting in the shower."
"Okay, honey. Have fun."
He winked at me. "Not without you, baby doll."
"Go shower."
He saluted and walked out, muttering to himself about his 'dumbass dad joke.'