In All Our Years Series - 4 In 1 | Captain!Bucky, WinterSoldier!Steve | Stucky

2020

| 2020 |

It was tradition within the Avengers - Bucky, Clint, and Nat - to watch The Crow on Halloween. Steve and Nat had stuck with it after the Decimation and Clint going off the grid. After watching it so much, Steve was able to sink into the couch cushion, recline his head back, and just listen as Eric Draven went to his apartment after coming back to life, and The Cure's 'Burn' filling the lounge. Nat had her legs thrown over him, a bowl of sweet M&M's and buttery popcorn in her lap.

They were in the middle of nowhere, so they didn't have to worry about random trick or treaters. But a hologram jumped out at them, projected from the television. The Crow instantly paused, and Nat sat forward in interest.

An image from the front parking lot popped up on the hologram, showing a man - that Steve only knew from pictures and vague information - standing at the doors. Luke waved at the surveillance camera, brows drawn together and mouth tightly pursed.

Nat was immediately on her feet, the bowl of popcorn and chocolate forgotten. Steve haphazardly unraveled the gigantic fleece blanket he had tangled himself in, following in her wake.

The air outside was cool, leaving a slight chill on Steve's forever-pale skin. He found Natasha pulling back from an embrace with the other soldier, softly noting, "It's been a while."

Luke smiled at her, warm and friendly. He glanced over at Steve, and the smile flickered just a little - enough to notice it. Returning his eyes to Natasha, he said, "Yeah. I only got leave after the whole Accords thing went down. But," he clapped his hands together and clasped his palms, "the war ended, which would be awesome if it wasn't because half the population vanished. Silver lining, right?"

Natasha just gestured toward the door they had come out from. "We're watching The Crow. Feel like joining the party?"

Luke smiled, tucking his hands under his arms. "Yeah, I'd love to. But..." His gaze turned toward Steve, and Steve realized that the other man was hesitant and waiting for his approval.

He immediately nodded his head. "Yeah," he reassured him. There was an obvious line of tension between them, not too unlike Steve and Natasha near the very beginning of Steve's recovery. "We're happy to have you."

Those polaroids had done their best at committing the exact details of Luke's smiles. Steve gave them credit for it - but they just hadn't been able to fully capture how genuine and bright they were.

< | >

Steve was tired. Not just from the sore aches tugged at his joints, the dark circles under his eyes, in sheer inability to get a good night of sleep; but from the rainy cloud that hovered over his head. Time wore at him. He knew that the two centuries he had lived in were different...but sometimes, he just couldn't see it.

He had been able to see Clint - in leather and a mask, sheathed katanas strapped to his back. Covered in splattered blood, anger in his eyes.

Left in his wake - a dead police officer.

Steve was curled up in the little bench in the cockpit, to the very side of the pilot's chair. He had one leg splayed out in front of him, the other pulled up to his chest with his arms hugging it, the heel against the seat. He had his chin set on his knee as he stared out of the pane of glass, the silence beginning to lull him to sleep.

Natasha pushed his shoulder, and Steve made a squeaking groan sound as he startled back to attention. She was standing in front of him, and said, "We're in Ohio. Could've gone on, but you need to eat something before you crash," referring to the amount of calories he needed a day, accelerated alongside his cell growth. With a slight curl to the corner of her mouth, she added, dryly, "Can't have you dying on me."