He had always loved his birthday as a child.
Momma would bake the yellow cake he only got to have once a year, and Daddy would come home from work early. They'd walk to the park and watch the fireworks light up the night sky. It had been a symbol of hope for him for the longest time- the light in the darkness of an unknown world.
Now he hated his birthday because of the fireworks.
He couldn't stand the sound of fireworks anymore- it reminded him too much of gunshots. Water was another trigger for him- it made his chest tighten in a way that made him certain he was going to drown. He could feel the ice scraping against his skin like sickly cold fingernails, slowly consuming every inch of him until he thought he was dead. The only other trigger he had was the sound of trains. He heard the fall every time and it made him cringe. The memory was horribly clear- like a portrait in his mind, and he hated that he remembered.
Today was his birthday.
He woke up the same way he always did- at five AM precisely. Immediately he said his morning prayers. He went for a jog for half an hour, then came back to Stark Tower and showered. He got dressed, brushed his teeth, and went downstairs to make his breakfast. By the time he got down there, Natasha had usually woken up, and they would get a cup of coffee and sit silently as they watched the sun rise.
Today, however, fate had decided to intercede.
He had gone downstairs as usual, expecting his usual coffee. Instead, he was met with bright red, white, and blue streamers. He didn't think much of it- it was, after all, the Fourth of July. Besides, no one knew it was his birthday.
He knew if Tony had known that his birthday was the Fourth of July, he would never live it down.
He had never spoken his birthday to anyone, and had hoped to keep it as secret as Director Fury's. Unfortunately, today was just not his day.
He was greeted with a shout of "Surprise!" when he entered the kitchen.
He nearly jumped, but his training in the military had lent him a stoic face. He morphed the face of confusion to a smiling expression.
"What's all this?" He asked, maintaining a pleasant tone.
"Don't play dumb, Steve. It's your birthday." Said Tony, smirking.
His smile slipped about three notches when he saw Tony's expression. He would never hear the end of it.
"It's not a big deal." He said, trying to wave it off. He went to go make his morning coffee, but there was already a cup set out in his favorite mug. The red white and blue of the American Flag with the Army symbol on it. He'd painted it himself.
"Captain America was born on the Fourth of July- it's not something you come across everyday."
That was Clint.
Steve sighed- it seemed reality chose to smack him in the face. He'd just have to deal with it.
When he went to go make breakfast, they stopped him again.
"It's already made." Said Natasha. He looked down at the plate she handed him to see his standard order of scrambled eggs, orange juice, pancakes, and- a rare treat- bacon. He took it with thanks to all of them and sat down to eat. For once they all sat around the breakfast table, enjoying each other's company. It was Tony, of course, who broke the silence.
"We have a few surprises in store for you, old man."
Steve just rolled his eyes, but there was a small smile on his lips.
As the day progressed, some normality was kept. Steve still went to the gym and worked out, and was pleasantly surprised to have five willing sparring partners. When it was time for lunch, they all went out together for Schwarma. It reminded Steve of the first time they fought together.
They went back up to Stark Tower an hour later. Steve was sitting up on the roof and looking at the New York skyline, when he heard an explosion that made his head cloudy and his vision blurred.
Gunshots were being fired in the warehouse. He had to get them all out of there.
He gripped the arms of the chair as tightly as possible, trying to maintain his grip on reality. Natasha and Clint were coming out to see if Steve wanted to go out to the park for the Fourth of July festivities when they saw him squeezing his eyes shut and holding onto the chair like his life depended on it. The arms of the chair snapped off under the pressure.
The explosion happened again and Natasha and Clint realized Tony must have been shooting off a few test fireworks for later tonight. They looked at Steve, and the way his eyes were wildly searching the sky, and then looked to each other, sharing one cohesive thought: PTSD. The fireworks were triggering the flashbacks.
Bucky was falling from the train.
He and the Commandoes were taking HYDRA down one step at a time.
Peggy was firing at his shield, eyes full of anger
He was battling Schmidt.
His eyes rolled into the back of his head and his hands turned into rigid claws. Short, shallow breaths escaped his lips. He was forgetting...
Clint reacted first, going in and yelling for JARVIS to stop launching the fireworks.
Natasha went over to Steve.
"Steve? Can you hear me?" The soldier's eyes opened, and she instantly knew he wasn't there anymore. He was somewhere that was far away that was likely gone now.
"Let me go down and get him." Steve said. "He fell under my command- let me be the one to get him. Please? He's my best friend... Just let me go get him. Please." Steve's voice was shaking and it broke on the word "Please". Natasha felt her heart drop into her stomach.
"Steve..."
"Bucky's down there dead and it's my fault. I have to fix it. Please. Please, just let me go down there and get him."
Tony, Bruce, and Thor had arrived by the beginning of Steve's plea, and looked at him with him pity and unease.
"Steve," Said Clint, "There's nothing left we can do for Bucky. But there are men here who need a leader, and you need to be that leader. We'll get him out and let you see him. Until then, try and relax, alright? That's an order, soldier."
Steve's posture straightened under the words for a moment, but his shoulders sagged under the weight of the command.
"It's my fault... It's all my fault..." He murmured.
"Steve," Said Bruce with pity, "It's not your fault. You did everything you could."
The phrase hits a memory buried deep down in his mind, and he could see Peggy. Only... Peggy couldn't be there, because it was the future and his past was gone. He blinked twice and was back on the roof of Stark Tower, his friends looking down at him with concern. He felt silly and embarrassed.
"Sorry about that..." He started.
"There's nothing to apologize for," Natasha interjected quickly. "If anything, Stark should be apologizing to you."
Tony grumbled something under his breath, but they all ignored him.
"Are you okay?" Asked Clint.
Steve nodded, although he was incredibly shaken. "I'm fine."
He wanted to escape the stares and his own thoughts. "Do you want to go do something?" He asked, quickly.
"We were planning on going to the fair in the park." Said Natasha, "Do you want to go?"
Steve nodded. Anything to get out of there.
When the others had gone, Tony stayed behind. He felt guilt that he hadn't felt before. Emotions to him were a choice- not a necessity. It was easy for him to shut them off in a normal situation, but this... this was just too real. He had driven Steve into a PTSD episode on his birthday.
He had to do something to make it up to him.
Suddenly, a stroke of genius hit him, and he started making a few calls. This day was going to be more than Steve ever expected- right down to the last dance.
Steve returned back to Stark Tower with the day's earlier incident forgotten. They had all had a grand time at the fair- Natasha and Clint winning every shooting game the fair had to offer, Bruce winning every logic-based game he found, and Thor eating the fair out of house and home. He himself had had a great time visiting a booth with "Vintage" Clothes- clothes that he understood and that were familiar to him. Today, as with every Fourth of July, he would don his dress blues and remember who he had been and how far he had come since then. He walked into the dining room to see a buffet line stretching across the table. Steve grinned.
They ate a feast of barbecue, burgers, and blueberry pie for dessert. Steve excused himself upstairs and went to put on his old uniform. It still fit like a glove. He put on the hat last and looked at the image in the mirror. It wasn't Captain America- it was Steve Rogers of the 107th. It was a soldier and strategist who had the world at his feet with his best friend and sweetheart backing his every turn. It reminded him of the scrawny man he'd been before the serum in basic training, and the Brooklyn heritage he'd had. For a moment, he was just Steve Rogers again.
"Hey Cap!" A voice called. Tony. Leave it to him to kill a moment- even unknowingly.
"Yes?" He called back.
"Come down! Your present is here!"
Present? Steve blinked. "I'll be there in a second!"
"You need to be down here now!"
There was urgency he'd never heard before, so he went. What he saw when he got down was enough to make him speechless.
Peggy was standing there. In Stark Tower. With her red dress and her chocolate curls and her sparkling eyes. She set her eyes on him, face aged, but still every bit her twenty year old self as she said: "You're late."
Steve grinned. It was really her.
He descended the stairs and faced her, tipping his hat. "Sorry, ma'am. I got caught in traffic. Now what does a pretty dame like you want with an old coot like me?"
"You still don't know a bloody thing about women." She remarked, and he kissed her.
Though she had aged on the outside, she hadn't changed a bit on the inside. When their lips met it was just as magical as their first kiss had been, if not more so. Because she was here. Because she wasn't a figment of his imagination and she was real and was the one thing he wanted throughout all his time in this crazy mixed-up future.
The other Avengers watched silently, each remarking on the scene in their own heads. It was a sweet moment. One that seemed full of longing and waiting. As they watched the two of them, it didn't seem as wrong as it should have. Steve was kissing an elderly woman. But it wasn't an elderly woman- it was Peggy. The one he'd loved for seventy years. The one he still loved and always would.
The kiss broke, and into his ear, she whispered, "Happy Birthday, Captain."
For the first time that he could remember in his adult life, he didn't want his birthday to end.