Wish You Were Here
Steve looked down and regarded the headstone with an anguished expression; half was relief for something or someone familiar, and the other half terrified of the world around him. "Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes" was inscribed with neat black letters over somber grey granite. Barnes' marker was set apart with the rest of the Howling Commandos in Arlington for their valiant service in action. With a sigh of exhaustion, Steve crumpled at the foot of the grave knowing the casket in the ground was empty but it was all he had left of Bucky and right now he needed a friend.
The ground immediately to the right of Bucky's grave was still slightly soft and faintly depressed if examined close enough. The sod, where a headstone had been located, was a microscopically different texture than the rest of the lawn. The sunset's slanted orange light filtered through the leaves of trees as Rogers examined his own former grave here next to his best friend. He could feel the void in the earth with his soul and it made his heart hurt. Squeezing his blue eyes closed, he tried to press away the memory of the many funerals he attended and the burning guilt that he wasn't around when they had laid James to rest. The voice of Nick Fury whispered something to him about 'survivors guilt' being a normal feeling, but it didn't comfort or make the pain any easier to bear.
His gaze dropped to the grass beneath his legs as memories, both happy and sad, flooded forth. Steve pulled two beers out from his leather bomber jacket and popped the top off one, sitting the unopened one at the foot of James's grave. "Bucky." His voice faltered for a moment, the name barely audible. Steve looked upward, feeling tears pricking his eyes. Taking a swig of the beer, he looked sternly at the headstone, "Bucky," he said more forcefully and with half a smile, "So much has changed here. You'd be amazed."
Birds sang evening songs in the trees and in the distance Steve could hear the last of the buses taking tourists back to the visitor's center for the evening close. Rogers paid them no mind but took another drink, hating the fact that he could never get drunk again, thanks to the Super Serum. "Unfortunate side effect" Peggy had called it when she found him in the war torn bar first mourning James's loss desperately with a bottle of whiskey. Another stab of guilt squeezed his core that she had lived a life without him while he was frozen in ice.
Sniffing loudly and looking quickly left and then right, Steve began to let his guard down, "Let me tell you, Buck. New York is a totally different place. It's so big and loud and impossibly bright." he said to the tombstone. "And they have so many new things here that it would make Stark's head explode! Could you imagine that, Buck? Stark being lost for words, that old son of a gun." Meeting Tony, the son of Howard Stark and inventor of Iron Man, had been less than stellar in Steve's opinion. However, they had grown to appreciate each other's unique talents. Tony was no Howard, but both equally important in each of their own times.
Steve paused, trying to remember the warm, relaxed feeling that beer gave him, but was not very successful. The Avengers had just saved New York from those weird things with the help of men not of Earth and some very incredible people. Black Widow wandered, almost seductively, into his thoughts and he found himself curious about her. Not infatuated or lusting for her, but curious. She had rules only she obeyed and always tested limits because apparently she had none of her own. Steve could see the good in her, but her methods were not what he agreed with and that bothered him. It didn't bother him in an aggravating way, but made him want to show her his side, where rules, freedom and fairness guided instead of a 'success at all costs' attitude. "Bucky, there's this dame…." He chuckled low imagining calling Natasha a 'dame', " They don't call them that anymore. There is this woman…."Steve trailed off for a moment and looking past the stones remembered her ruby red hair and piercing green eyes. "She's amazing." Rogers breathed, " She can do anything a guy can do and then some! Oh Buck, I wish you could meet her."
The sun sank lower as Steve drank another gulp of beer and ran his fingers through the grass beneath him. An engine was heard nearby but it moved on quickly after a brief pause. Rogers suspected it was the evening security doing a sweep for straggling visitors. He had become a regular visitor after-hours and they didn't question him any more.
Twilight was slowly swallowing the blue daytime sky, painting it soft reds, purples and deeper navy of evening. A slender crescent of a moon clung to the firmament above as crickets chirped their night calls to each other. "Bucky." It was comfort to Steve to say his name as if by doing so, James would never truly pass from this world. " I'm not sure about anything any more. There is this group called S.H.I.E.L.D. and they are not the Army but they are doing good. But how they do it, I'm not sure I like it much. They say they need me and the… Avengers. But it still doesn't feel… right. I'm just not sure what I should do." He drank again, "I'm not even sure who I am, anymore."
Peggy's voice intruded into his mind as if this night he was to be haunted by a hundred ghosts, "You are meant for better things!" He remembered the passion in her eyes, not only for him, but their mission to rid the world of the horrible evil of Hydra.
"Better things, James, but what is better? Is this better? Being here, alone without any of my old friends?" Steve asked out loud trying to quell the hard edge in his voice, "Is this really better? Gosh, I wish you were here."
Time passed in silence for a long while as Steve sat listening to the sounds of night descend upon the cemetery. This is how it always went; he sat and talked to James' stone and for a moment, peace would fill his aching heart and soul. The cracks in his emotional façade would be patched for another few days until the guilt crept up on him again like the Red Skull. Shifting his gaze upward to the stars that had begun to twinkle, then down to the lights of Washington D.C., he tried to put a better attitude in his head. Life wasn't fair, he reminded himself, "We can only do so much with what we have."
"And I think you have quite a lot, soldier." a female voice said quietly in the gloaming.
With lightening speed, Steve whirled around to face the voice, beer carelessly dropped on the ground. "Who are you?!" he demanded.
"A friend. Looks like you need one." Natasha stepped into the faint light of the pathway lamps set by the cemetery roads.
Steve exhaled loudly, the tension of being attacked going out with his breath, "Don't sneak up on me like that."
"I didn't mean to intrude. Really." She apologized sincerely, coming closer; her short curls swaying with her step.
"How much did you hear?" Steve asked skeptically, almost trying to judge how much to be hurt by her presence on his grieving ritual.
"Nothing." she stopped a step away and looked up at him, her pupils dilated with the low light. Steve felt his throat catch as he tried to inhale.
Quickly, he recalled where he was standing, "I am sure you know who this is."
"Of course. James Barnes." She replied matter of fact, but not unkindly gazing down on the stone.
"My best friend." Steve replied in a whisper.
Natasha stood still, sensing his pain and suffering. Long ago, she had learned to close that part of herself off to the world. She could fake sympathy and empathy. It was almost fun to play the actress, when the feelings were not real and she could see the effect of emotions on people. Tonight was different because the hurt he was feeling was too real and it touched a nerve Natasha thought was long dead. It wasn't Captain America standing next to her, but Steve Rogers, war veteran. She adjusted her posture to shake off the discomfort of the emotional intimacy. Glancing at him, she saw his eyes directed down at the stone, the capped beer tilted sideways on the grave. She saw the shimmer of tears in his eyes.
When she felt the appropriate amount of time had passed, she looked at him, "Want to grab a bite?"
Steve slowly turned his eyes to her. He realized she was trying to be helpful to let him adjust to this new time so he let decided to take his guilt and bury it for now, "Sure."
"Ok, then soldier. Where to?" she asked neutrally, beginning to turn away from Bucky's grave.
"I dunno. You pick. You know D.C. better than me." he said also turning away but feeling as if an umbilical cord was still between him and the resting place of James.
"Well, let's get you acquainted with some fine Thai food." Natasha responded and looped an arm around his. Steve felt the emotional tether vanish and weight lift off his shoulders. Rogers inhaled a deep breath and it felt like his first in a long time. Finally, smiling a reluctant smile at her, Steve knew that he didn't have to wish for Bucky to be there, because he always would be with him, till the end, just like he promised.