I'm Here | ✓

28 - Phone Calls

We fell asleep like that; our fingers threaded on our laps, the sun shining on our faces, no time passing, just us. Just now.

But then the phone rang again and I flinched, waking violently. Steve, his eyes still closed, fumbles around for his phone, his other arm wrapping around me and drawing me closer. He stiffens as he looks at the caller ID. He shows it to me, but it's just a mix of numbers that mean nothing to me. I shrug, and he stares at it for a few more seconds before finally answering.

"Who is this?" He says, sounding fierce and yet blinking the sleep out of his eyes at the same time.

A small voice on the other end of the phone responds, "Hi, um, is this... is this Bucky?"

Steve and I trade fearful looks. He shakes his head, and I realize he has no idea who called him either, or how they got his number, or how they know he's with me. I keep my mouth shut, maintaining eye contact, scared for my life, if I'm being honest.

"Who is this?" Steve repeats, more demanding this time. I grab his free hand and grip it tightly.

"Oh! My... my name is Sarah." What? I mouth at Steve. He looks just as confused as I do, and he leans forward just a little bit. He can go from good Cap to bad Cap real quick, I've learned.

"Okay, Sarah, here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna tell me exactly how you got this number and who you work for, or we're gonna have a problem." It was an empty threat; there was nothing he could do from this side of the phone, but he sounded terrifying enough that anybody would believe it. Fortunately, the caller answered quickly, but it wasn't what we were expecting.

"No, no, I'm from that restaurant, the Garden Bar and Grille! I'm sorry, I don't know why I called, we just had that, just had that problem there, I'm the waitress you left your number for, we were talking about my daughter - " Shit. Steve and I remember simultaneously, both collapsing backward with a sigh.

Steve interjects, his voice apologetic. "Sarah, that's right. Look, I'm really sorry, we're just kind of on edge lately with everything that's been going on. I'm Steve."

"Steve Rogers?" Sarah exclaims.

"Yeah. Um, one more question, how did you get this number?"

"Oh! Your friend, Bucky, left it for me on a napkin after. My daughter desperately wanted to meet him, and I really appreciate it, sorry for bothering you though - "

"You're fine, don't worry. He doesn't have a phone, but he's sitting right here if you want to talk to him!" Steve smiles warmly at me, mouthing go for it. I take the phone from him carefully.

"Hello?" I ask, not sure what to say.

"Is this Bucky? Can I call you that?"

"Yeah, I'm Bucky. Um..." How do people even start conversations over the phone? Why did I leave Steve's number? This is so awkward.

"Well, listen, my daughter, Katie, she's here, and I was just wondering if she could talk to you, if you have a spare second?"

"Yeah, of course, it's no problem." I squeeze Steve's hand a little bit for comfort.

There's shuffling on the other end of the phone, and I hear Sarah whisper something to her daughter. There's a high pitched squeak, and then a small "hello?"

"Hi, is this Katie?"

She squeals. "Yeah! Are you really Mr. Bucky?" I've never really liked kids, but she sounds so enthused to be talking with me. Normally everyone fawns over Steve, so I'm not used to people sounding excited when they talk to me.

"Yeah, I'm really Bucky," I say with a small laugh. "How are you, Katie?"

"I'm great! I saw your exhibit at the Smithsonian - " she says it carefully, like she's been practicing, " - and I think you're super brave and really cool! I love your arm, I want one just like it!"

I have to take a second before responding so I don't immediately start crying. "My new arm, or my old one?"

She gasps. "You have a NEW one?!"

"Yeah! My old one..." I don't know how to describe to her that Iron Man blew it off in Siberia after nearly killing Steve and me in a haze of revenge once he discovered I murdered his parents. "My old one broke, so I had to get it replaced." That sounded so lame, but it was apparently exactly what the girl needed to hear, because she gasped in awe again. "My new one is dark grey with gold in between. Oh, and it doesn't have the star this time."

"That sounds so pretty! Is it real gold?"

"I don't think so, sweetie. It's a lot lighter than my old one. I'm really happy to have it."

"I've been trying to get one for a really long time, but my mommy says it's too 'spensive. It's okay; I have a plastic one instead. My classmates make fun of me sometimes because of it, and that makes me sad, but I can pick up some stuff and hug my friends, so it's okay." How old was this girl? Eight? Why are kids still bullying each other, especially ones with disabilities? It made me furious, but I masked it well.

"Well, Katie, I happen to know somebody who can make you an arm just like mine, if you want to know. She's only a few years older than you and one of the smartest people in the world." T'Challa's letter told me all about his younger sister Shuri, and how she was pioneering the modern age of technology at only 16 years old. He sounded very proud of her, and she seemed like the kind of person who would hear Katie's story and immediately try to do anything to help. "And who knows, maybe we could have matching arms."

"Mommy, mommy, did you hear that? Mr. Bucky says that we could get matching arms!" There's a bit of shuffling and whispering, and then the phone changes hands.

"Thank you for everything, really, Bucky, but we can't afford it. I have to work two jobs, I'm a single mom, I just can't..."

"Write this down." I have her copy down the address I received T'Challa's letter from, and tell her to ask explicitly for Shuri. At the end of it, she sounds like she has a glimmer of hope.

"Wait, mommy, can I say one more thing?" I hear Katie whisper as we start to wrap up the conversation.

"Sure, hun."

And then Katie's on the phone again. "I just wanted to say that you're really awesome and I'm happy that you're doing good now. You're my hero."

"Aww, thank you so much. Don't let what those other kids say get you down now, okay? You're braver and stronger than I am, you just don't know it."

"But I can't even pick up my cat!" She says, giggling. "She's too heavy!"

"Sometimes strength comes from the inside. It's not always about how much weight you can carry, it's about your perseverance. Okay Katie, I gotta go now. Don't forget to mail Shuri about that new arm!"

"I won't!" She laughs and hangs up, leaving me holding Steve's phone, shaking.

He knows what I need before I even say anything. He wraps his arms around me, gently pulling me into his lap. I rub my eyes with my right hand but more tears begin to fall silently. I'm somebody's hero. I made a positive difference. This is real.

Steve strokes my hair gently, caressing my face, letting me cry. He's the best. I used to be the one doing this to him, and now look at this. He stares into my watery eyes with a hint of a smile on his face, pressing a kiss to my forehead. I lean into him and he hugs me tighter.

You've gotta change with the times, I suppose. At this point, I don't mind. I've got everything I need right here.