Apologies for the wait, folks. Real Life caught up with me and grabbed me by the throat. Finally got out this chapter to you all.

This is the final "official" chapter of the story, with an epilogue that should be posted within the next week. After that, I have a couple more oneshot ideas, before I will take an ""oficial"" hiatus around New Years-unless an idea really strikes. I have a piece of original fiction that I need to give some undivided attention to.

(If any of you are interested in being along for the writing of said original fiction, hit me up.)

But enough of that. On with "well, what do we do now?"

Chapter Ten: Under the Sun

"So, when can we expect you back as king?"

"Um, about that…"

Loki blinked. That had not been the answer he was expecting.

"Ah-I'm sorry, come again? Thor, your people need a king. You're alive again and it's a miracle. They need you."

Thor let out a patient but weary sigh as he scanned over the quaint, Norwegian fishing village that held the remains of a once mighty kingdom.

"No, they don't need me, they need a king. As you said. It seems to me that they already have one."

Loki blinked again.

"Me?"

From a short distance away, Valkyrie snorted. Loki gave her a rude gesture, which she eagerly returned in kind.

Thor cleared his throat, a bemused smile spreading on his face. "Children. As I was saying, our people have a king. You, Loki. And you seem to have done a perfectly fine job the past three years. More than fine-admirable."

Valkyrie was grinning, like she had already anticipated this happening. Loki was currently feeling like he had been sucker-punched in the jaw.

"But...why?" he asked, voice strained. "All your life, all of our childhood…"

"When I was a child, I spoke and thought like a child." Thor said solemnly. "I thought being king was about power and forcing your will on others. Then I grew up and learned that being king requires a lot more than I'd ever realized."

"And that's good! That's why you're suited to it!"

Thor smiled. "No. That is exactly why I realized I am not. Loki, I'm a warrior. I punch things. I like that. I have a head for strategy, but a king is not only a warrior. I loathe politics and machinations. I've no head for diplomacy. You were always much better at that. It's time for me to be who I am rather than who I'm supposed to be. You, you're a leader. That's who you are. Even as children, you were always the clever one. Now your mind has been tempered with experience and compassion. You will rule Asgard well."

Loki could hear a faint choking sound-and realized it was coming from his own throat.

"I...I would make a lot of changes. I'd be nothing like Father."

"I'm counting on it. Your Majesty." Thor smiled, that old, sunny smile of his, and gave a sweeping bow. "Long live the king."

Except that he knew Brunhilde would never let him live it down, Loki almost fainted.

"What will you do?" Valkyrie asked.

Thor shrugged. "I'm not sure. For the first time in a thousand years, I don't have to do anything. I do have a ride, though."

A bright orangy-silver spaceship touched down as he spoke. As it landed, Rocket scampered down the gangplank.

"Move it or lose it, pal!" he called.

Loki raised his eyebrow. "You're traveling with the Lunatics of the Galaxy?"

"Guardians of the Galaxy, actually. They offered me a spot. I accepted." Thor rested his hand on Loki's shoulder. "Brother...I'm so proud of you. You've done well. Now is your chance to keep doing well. Asgard needs a new face for a new future. Besides, Mother approves."

"Yes, well." Loki smirked. "Mother always did love me best."

Thor rolled his eyes at the old jab, before dragging his brother into a tight embrace.

"Farewell. I shall return as often as I can."

Loki cursed his moist eyes and nodded.

"And for pity's sake, Loki, take that woman on a date."

The moistness vanished altogether as Loki dissolved into sputtering.

"A date? A date! What am I, some Midgardian youth?"

Thor howled, and squeezed him one last time before making his way onto the ship. Valkyrie raised an eyebrow in Loki's direction.

"Something you need to tell me, Your Highness?" she queried, arching one perfect eyebrow.

Loki swallowed.

"Ah...how do you feel about opera?"

"Hate it."

"A symphony?"

"Let's start with a movie and see how well you do, alright?"

Loki nodded, not sure whether to curse or bless Thor mentally. "Very well."

"Good. Are you free tonight?"

"Who is arranging this, you or me?"

Valkyrie laughed-adorable, yet feral in the same breath. "You're very cute, Your Highness."

"You could call me Loki?"

"Oh, is that allowed?"

From a large house overlooking the port, Frigga could see both her sons-and she smiled.

And all manner of things shall be well...

The occupant of the large, black spinning chair at the head of the table sat with his (or her) face turned away.

The Conference Room at Avengers' HQ was always the best place to discuss official business, after all.

"You may wonder why I've called you all here." the occupant intoned dramatically.

From the opposite end of the table, Cooper Barton crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "Is it to start a new super-secret Kid Avengers' team, Christy?"

Christy spun around in the chair. "Cooper! You ruined my dramatic moment!"

"That's my job! And poor Anish had to do it for three years, alone. I need to give him a break."

From her seat midway between them, Shanta sighed.

"Are we going to talk or fight? Because I'm leaving if it's a fight. I'm halfway through a cross-stich project."

"Yeah, and I stopped watching Frozen II for this." Lila added, pouting slightly. "I can't believe they made another one!"

"Talk, talk, talk!" Jamie exclaimed, banging his tiny fists on the table. Next to him, Morgan nodded in agreement.

"Why do we have to be Avengers, anyway?" Anish pointed out.

"We don't have to." Christy said, trying to wrangle back control of the conversation. "But look at it this way. The world isn't likely to get better. And if the world eventually needs more heroes, who better than us? Obviously, new heroes will come from outta nowhere-they always do. But it's not a bad idea if we keep training. The more people to keep the world safe, the better."

"But none of us have powers." Cooper said. "Don't you need at least some people with powers?"

"I volunteer for Gamma exposure." Anish said, smiling wickedly.

"No." Christy and Shanta replied in the same breath.

"Daddy didn't have special powers." Morgan said quietly.

"No, he didn't." Christy said. "And neither does Sam, but Dad still gave him the Shield."

"I wan' a shield, too!" Jamie said enthusiastically. "But I want a green shield, because green's my favorite color. Can I have a green shield?"

Christy patted her brother on the shoulder. "We'll ask Mom, okay? But look...we did all this training during the Snap. What was it all for? To get strong, to maybe get back everyone that was lost. Well, we did it. Okay, the adults did it, but some of us are almost adults anyway. If we want to train, we should keep doing it. If anyone doesn't, fine. But I don't want to break up a good thing."

There was a pause for a long minute. And then, Lila spoke up.

"Dad still wakes up crying in the night, and Mom has to talk him down. One day, I was a normal kid having a picnic with my family, and the next thing I know, it's apparently been three years, and my baby brother is seven instead of four. I-I'm only ten, but I don't feel ten. I don't want anything like this to ever happen again. If we're starting a new Avengers' team, count me in."

Christy beamed and gave Lila a hard hug. "Welcome to the team." she whispered.

Cooper smirked, but there was a dark shadow behind his eyes. "As long as you can handle that I'm only thirteen, let's go."

Anish was next. "I want to be like Baba. Maybe I can make my own Hulkbuster sort of suit, but without the Hulk."

"And I can fix everyone when they get injured." Shanta added. "I don't really want to be a fighter, but I'll train anyway. Ma says that everyone should know how to throw a punch."

"Are we too little?" Morgan asked suspiciously.

"...right now." Christy said. "But not later. If you learn a few things now, you'll be really good at being an Avenger later. You too, Nate and Jamie."

Nate nodded, eyes full of quiet passion. "Dad said he would help me with archery and maybe let me use one of his old SHIELD bows. Lila, too. Cooper wants to box."

Cooper grinned. "Picture this. Vibranium knuckles."

Anish raised his eyebrow and immediately looked interested. "Shuri might help us with that…"

"But you're all missing something important." Shanta said. "Who will be the leader?"

Christy gave a soft look at her cousin. "I've already thought of that."

"Who, you?" Cooper scoffed.

"No, not me. Not any of us. It can't be any of us. We're all like brothers and sisters. We need someone a little on the outside to train us and call shots in a future hypothetical battle-with some help from adults."

"Who?" Anish asked. Christy hadn't said a word about this to anyone.

"I'll let you all know tomorrow-if he says yes."

"What? No! No, no, no! This is my senior year of high school! I'm not leading some Kid Avengers' squad. This is my chance to be normal!"

Christy sighed. Her next-day promise of news might have been jumping the gun just a bit.

They were sitting in Aunt May's apartment in Queens, with May herself having gone out to run errands. Christy had been visiting Peter a lot, lately. She hadn't realized exactly how much she had missed him until he was suddenly back.

"Peter...I can't think of anyone who would do it better."

"Look, Christy, I've got school and charity events with May, and there's this girl at school…"

"You mean MJ? I like her. You need to just ask her on a date, already."

Peter groaned. "Kid. Kid-dammit, you're not a kid anymore, are you?"

"Not really." Christy's look turned bittersweet. "I haven't been a kid in a really long time. Neither of us have."

"Then why don't you lead? This whole thing was your idea."

"Yeah, and that's exactly why I shouldn't. I don't want this becoming some sick vanity project. I want it to be about carrying on the legacy that we are all a part of."

Peter's eyes turned dark and stormy. "Legacy, huh? Yeah, I know."

"Peter...you don't have to be Uncle Tony, you know. No one's expecting you to do it."

"Yes they are! That's the point!" Peter threw himself backwards, hands spread dramatically. "Thor's gone, Hulk an' Black Widow an' Hawkeye are 'retired', even your dad gave up the shield! Everyone's asking 'who's gonna be the next Iron Man?' An' I can' help but feel like they're all looking at me!"

Christy frowned. "Maybe that's because you're looking at you."

Peter huffed and crossed his arms, sticking his hands into his armpits. But he couldn't say anything to deny it.

"Peter...look, I get it. Everyone expects me to do and be stuff because I'm 'Captain America's kid'. But I can't be Dad. Even Sam can't be Dad. And you can't be Uncle Tony. You can only be yourself."

Peter hunched forward. "...but what if myself isn't enough?"

"Enough for who?"

"The world? Everyone? What if I screw up?"

"Then you'd be exactly like Uncle Tony. He failed a lot. He just got back up every time he did. Like you."

Peter blew out a slow breath. "What do you even want this to look like?"

"I'm not sure, all the way. I wanna ask Dad for advice, and Sam and Aunt Tasha. I just know that this is something I've wanted for a long time. And you...you're not really going to stop being a hero, are you?"

Peter fixed his eyes on a patch of wallpaper. Christy sighed.

"You aren't." she repeated.

"But what if I want to?"

"Why do you want to? You wanted to save the world."

"Y-yeah and then…" Peter looked away. "And then I died for three years, apparently. I watched Tony die. And now...now I can't even get the girl I like to notice me. I just wanna put it all behind. It...it hurts, right now."

Christy drew her legs up against her chest.

"You don't have to, if you don't want. I just...thought it would be a good reminder that you're not doing any of this alone. Besides...you'd get to train Morgan."

Peter looked slightly interested at that. "Pepper said yes?"

"Aunt Pepper said yes to basic self-defense and gymnastics. C'mon...you could teach Baby Stark how to do flips."

Peter rolled his eyes half-heartedly. "I guess that would be fun."

"You know it would be."

Peter studied Christy carefully. As long as he had known her, she had seemed utterly full of self-confidence. But now, that confidence was less brash-and more humbled.

"You'd take orders from me? In a battle?" he asked.

"In a heartbeat." Christy replied.

"...why? You're-you. And half of my superpower is making quips at stupid criminals and failing spectacularly."

"Peter." Christy leaned forward. "I literally idolized you for years. You were so cool."

Peter barked a laugh. "I promise you, I have never in my life been cool."

"To yourself, maybe. But to me, you were fighting and being a superhero way before I ever had my suit. You know about fighting, but also why it's not something to mess around with. You'd be a good leader because it's not something you crave. You just want to help people. Like Dad."

Peter blinked. "D-did...did you just compare me to Captain America?"

"No, I just compared you to Steve Rogers. And the comparison sticks." Christy crossed her arms. "You don't have to do it. It's not like we're anything official. But...we're something, if things go south again."

Peter checked his phone. It had been half an hour. Aunt May would probably be home soon, and things would get awkward if they were still having this conversation.

He knew that he could never live up to Tony Stark. But maybe this was a good place to start, anyway. And what could be the harm in practicing drills and giving pointers on how to do a flip?

"Okay." he croaked. "I'll do it. When's the first practice?"

Christy beamed, and then faded a bit. "U-Uh...I'll get back to you on that. I wasn't exactly sure I'd get this far." she said sheepishly.

"Seriously? Then what did you ask me for?"

"...you told me once that when people can do the things that you can, but then they don't...the blame is on them. So I knew that you'd probably come around. We can't do everything, but this is the thing we can do."

"You are like your dad. You know that?"

Christy shrugged and ducked her head. "I try."

"I guess that's all we can do, huh?"

"In the end, yeah. So...about MJ. You still haven't asked her out?"

Peter groaned. "But she's so...cool and unapproachable!"

Christy leaned back on the couch, rolling her eyes. "Get over yourself and ask her on a date!"

"I'm trying! I have a foolproof plan, see? It's only got eight steps."

As Peter allowed himself to distract and be distracted, the icy grip of fear started to slip from his heart. He sure as anything didn't know how to lead a superhero team. But if nothing else, this would be a reminder that he wasn't in this alone.

It was starting to turn into Fall, and Bucky was watching the leaves drop quietly from the trees surrounding the Mansion.

Things were more lively around here, now that all of the Bartons were back. Pietro was still living with them, and now barely let Laura out of his sight. All of them were in family therapy, struggling to cope with the idea of being together once again. Cooper especially was having a hard time being three years younger than he was 'supposed' to be.

But life went on. Steve was officially 'retired'-though Bucky knew that if push ever came to shove, the stubborn punk would be back faster than you could say 'boo'. Sam was counseling, more than ever, and finally dating someone.

And he and Wanda were left in the quiet hush of 'what now?'.

Currently, she was in the kitchen, attempting to make cider. Sharon had taught her the recipe and now she insisted on making it starting every September, almost religiously. The smell of cinnamon and cloves was already wafting into the living room, soon to fill the whole house.

Bucky took a deep sniff and sighed appreciatively. He padded into the kitchen.

"That gonna take a while to cook?" he asked.

Wanda jumped lightly and shook her head. "You scoundrel. Don't scare me like that. You move like a cat."

"Me? A cat?" Bucky drew himself up in mock offense. "I'm at least a panther. Or a wolf. That's what the kids in Wakanda called me, White Wolf."

"You are a kitty cat." Wanda repeated, unimpressed.

"Hmph." Bucky crossed his arms. "Can't a man get any respect around here?"

"Respect?" Wanda shot back, twisting red energy through the air. "You should respect the woman who can lift you in the air."

"You know, you always threaten that, but I don' think you have the guts to act-ah!"

Bucky suddenly found himself floating very close to the kitchen ceiling. Wanda had a smug smile on her face.

"You were saying?" she queried mildly.

"Can I come down, please?" Bucky yelped, mild terror flitting across his face.

Quickly, Wanda lowered him to the the ground. As soon as he was steady, Bucky bent forward in a floppy bow.

"M'lady, I give my most humble apologies. You definitely have the guts to do anything you like."

Wanda giggled, but also leaned up to give him a kiss.

"Sorry I scared you." she whispered.

"No, I...I probably deserved that. What I was trying to ask is, if that's gonna take a while to make, do you wanna go on a walk? The leaves are all pretty…"

Wanda smiled. "Of course. I like walking-especially with you."

She put on a coat and knit hat-New York in the Fall was already chilly. Bucky did up the buttons on his restored, old blue coat.

"You still keep it." Wanda said, touching the fabric.

"An' I always will." Bucky replied, carefully moving his arm to cover the pocket. "It's a reminder of how far I've come...how far we've all come, I guess. Besides, this thing is a genuine antique!"

Wanda smirked, and bent down to fasten the straps on her boots.

"And if you say 'like you', then I might not be the only one in the air this afternoon, Miss Maximoff-Barton."

"I was not saying." Wanda replied, with a look that reminded Bucky far more of Pietro.

They exited the house into the crisp, Fall afternoon. The sun was just beginning to sink a little in the sky, but not enough to make the temperature legitimately freezing.

"Clint says he will rake the leaves soon." Wanda said, crunching some of the said leaves beneath her feet. "Nate is excited about jumping in them."

"Has Pietro finally learned enough to help?"

"I think so. He only was pretending to be bad at it to get out of work."

Bucky snorted. "I could have told you that."

They walked in easy silence for a few minutes, enjoying simply being together. It was something that neither of them took for granted anymore.

"It's so strange." Wanda said finally. "Everyone is almost back, and so many seem to want to move on...but how can we? How can we pick up all the pieces and glue them together again?"

"Slowly an' carefully, I guess." Bucky said. "An' knowin' that there's always gonna be cracks."

Wanda lay her head against his shoulder. "How did you get so wise?"

"Well, dealing with seventy years of brainwashing an' havin' t' rebuild your whole life will do the trick. An' losing your best friend, only to get him back. So, pain, I guess. Pain makes you wise. Which means that you're wise, too, ljubavi moja."

Wanda blushed, hard. "Flatterer."

Bucky howled. "We've been together for four years an' you still blush when I say 'my love'?"

"It is too...too romantic! You are a...what does Steve say? A sap!"

Bucky grinned, large and proud. "Yep, that's me. A sap in love."

Squealing, Wanda looked away in protest. Bucky grabbed her face back playfully.

They fell into a kiss.

When they finally broke apart, Bucky whispered, "It's been four years, dragi."

"I-I know…" Wanda glanced down shyly. "It doesn't feel like it, almost. It feels so long ago. I was such a child-I thought the worst was behind us. How wrong I was."

"Hey-we all wanted to put the Accords mess behind us an' move on. An' for what it's worth, I can't think of anyone I'd've rather had by my side the last three years than you. You've been incredible, Wanda."

"Me?! You are the one that has been father to Jamie and Christy through all of this. You have been a rock. And I was proud to stand with you. I still am."

"Will you stand with me forever, then?"

Wanda started. "What?"

Bucky breathed out, long and quiet. And then he dropped to his knees, pulling a small box from his coat pocket.

Wanda felt her whole world tilting sideways and upside-down and inside-out all at once.

"W-will you stand by me?" Bucky continued, voice only shaking the smallest bit. "Will we take on the world together? I don't have a lot, but what I have, it's yours. You won' be cold or hungry or alone, as long as I'm around. An' no matter what, you'll always wake up next to me. Will you have me?"

Wanda, who had until now been standing with her hands pressed tightly against her mouth, sunk to the ground in front of him.

"Yes, I'll have you, James. Moja Yakov."

Bucky could feel his face physically aching from his smile. "Y-you're the only one that calls me that, except Thor…an' it sounds best from you."

With trembling hands, he slipped the ring on her finger and pressed a long, long kiss to her mouth.

For a while, they stayed sitting in the grass, smushed against each other, almost too scared to move. But at last, the sun started dipping below the horizon, turning the sky brilliant streaks of pink and orange.

Wanda shivered. "We should go in."

"Yeah…" Bucky muttered, helping her up. "You want a fire tonight?"

"I always want a fire, srce moje."

Bucky could feel the tips of his ears turning red-and not from cold. "Now who's a sap?"

"Still you." Wanda kissed his cheek. "Come. We need to start looking for dresses."

"W-we?"

"You must approve the dress, yes? Besides, then you can imagine me in them."

Pacified, Bucky let himself be led into the house. They removed all the winter outer-clothes, and he started poking around at the fireplace.

Wanda came back in a few moments with two steaming mugs of cider.

"Mmm!" he said, sitting up on his heels. "That smells really good."

"I added lots of cinnamon." Wanda replied, sitting next to him on the floor and leaning into his shoulder. "James?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."

Bucky ducked his head, and wondered if he could blame his red face on the fire.

No, likely not.

"Me, too." he whispered, nuzzling just a bit.

They sat in silence, drinking cider and letting the fire warm their bones.

It was the end of one thing, and the quiet beginning of another.

From his earliest memory, Steve Rogers had never liked running from his problems. That, his mother had drilled into him, was a coward's action. You always took your problems head on and faced them like a man (or woman).

Steve couldn't help but wish his mother was here now to give him some badly-needed advice.

See, Ma, I was kinda dead for three years. An' now my daughter is all grown up, an' I've got a son I only just met two months ago. What should I do, exactly?

But of course, his mother was currently buried six feet under in Brooklyn. It was up to him to figure this out.

With Christy, it wasn't so bad. She still had many of the same interests and quirks that he remembered, just tempered with a bit of hardship and experience. It was actually almost amazing to watch how she had matured, even as his heart ached that he had missed it.

But the two of them had years of shared memories, stories, experiences, and in-jokes to draw from. With Jamie, it was different.

Jamie only knew him from pictures and videos and stories. And Steve didn't know him at all.

Objectively, he could see many of his own traits in the boy. Jamie was quiet, watchful, artistic, and well-spoken. He was thankfully not sickly and enjoyed being active outside.

Steve knew he was being foolish to expect an instant connection-and Jamie clearly didn't hate him. But it was also clear that he was very used to running to other people for help.

The proverbial last straw came when he took his family to the Mansion, to celebrate Bucky and Wanda's engagement. All of the younger kids were running around playing tag, and Jamie happened to trip headlong over himself and bang his head.

He lay on the ground in shock, locking eyes with Christy at first.

Christy tried to play it off. "Oops! You okay, buddy? That was some fall!"

Jamie took several shaky breaths-and then immediately ran wailing to the circle of adults around the bonfire.

Sharon was inside helping Laura with something, which meant that Mommy was out as a comfort option. Steve opened his mouth to call Jamie to him, when Jamie instead made a different choice.

"Uncle B-Bucky! I-It hurts!"

Steve's face fell, though he tried to hide it. Sam caught the look and squeezed his shoulder.

"Don't take it personally. He's used to Bucky."

Steve pressed his lips together. "Yeah. Of course." he said, careful to keep his voice neutral.

Bucky, of course, heard everything, and pressed his own lips together. This would not go undealt with. But right now, he had a kid to soothe.

"Hey, hey, Bright Eyes, wha's the problem? So ya took a tumble-big whoop! We're all here, you're okay. No blood, no one's dyin'."

"So comforting, Barnes." Clint drawled.

"Shaddap, Barton, you do the exact same thing. Doesn't he, Jamie?"

Jamie nodded, though he would have nodded to anything at that point. Sharon came out of the house a few moments later with cookies and bumped heads were promptly forgotten.

But later that night, Bucky found Steve drawing morosely at the kitchen table, after most everyone had gone to bed.

The house was still, with only the faint kitchen light and moonlight mixing to illuminate Steve's troubled frown.

"What'cha drawin' punk?" Bucky asked quietly.

Steve didn't answer, but he moved his arm and paused.

It was an unfinished-but obviously intended-sketch of Bucky throwing Jamie in the air, while Steve was kept separate by prison bars. The bars were made of the word 'Snap'.

Bucky sighed softly. "Now, hold on. That ain't fair. You were gone-what else was I supposed t' do? Not be a father figure to your kid?"

"No...no, Buck, you did everything I could have wished. I'm grateful, honest. I just...it's gonna take time, an' it's gonna hurt while it does."

Bucky shook his head. "Steve-don't be a punk. You wanna know your kid?"

Steve nodded sheepishly.

"Then listen. An' try some stuff. An' try some more, until somethin' sticks. You already did this with Christy."

"I guess it hurts more because he is mine-blood and all."

Bucky leaned back in the wooden kitchen chair. "He is like you. He's got that same way of pursin' his lips when he's all mad or concentratin'. He's big into trains right now-Thomas the Tank Engine. And stuffed animals. Likes to color."

"Do...do I just sit with him? I didn't have Christy when she was so little. I-I've never done this before."

Steve looked quiet and shy, and oddly humble, eyes bright with earnestness. Bucky felt his heart soften a bit.

"Yeah, you sit with him. You be there. That's how ya get kids t' trust an' like ya-you be there. It won't happen overnight, but ya don' gotta play the martyr over it. You bonded with Christy, you'll bond with Jamie, too."

"...you're right." Steve gave a puckish half-smile. "Thanks, Buck. I needed that."

"You always do. A little Bucky Barnes patented slap t' the face."

Steve grinned more, and pulled Bucky into a hug.

"It was hard, y'know?" Bucky whispered, hating the the tears that were forming in his eyes. "Hard t' not have you. I thought I shoulda been the one t' go…"

"No!" Steve whispered fiercely. "No. You deserved to live. You've suffered enough."

"Loki said...Thanos took all the golden ones. Thor. T'Challa. You. Left all the second-string."

Steve shook his head. "...gold's not the strongest metal, ya know. If he took the golden ones, he left all the iron."

Bucky pressed against him harder. "I didn't think I wanted to stay, some days. But there was too much to live for. Just...just promise me it won't happen again."

"As long as it depends on me, it never will." Steve vowed.

"Good." Bucky shakily wiped his eyes. "Now, c'mon. We're watching a few kids shows. You have a lot to catch up on if you're gonna bond with your kid."

"Can we make hot chocolate while we do it?"

"Of course. What d'you take me for, a heathen?"

The next morning, Steve offered to take Christy and Jamie to Barnes & Noble.

Christy, who was not stupid by any means, smelled a plan and went along with it eagerly.

"That's the store with all the Thomas trains, Jamie! Your favorite!"

Bucky gave Steve a subtle thumbs up. Sharon caught the gesture and smiled.

Boys…

At the store, Christy very quickly went off to browse on her own, giving Steve a 'good luck' gesture as she went.

"...you wanna go look at the trains, buddy?" Steve asked, smiling hesitantly.

Jamie nodded. "I like trains. I want to ride one."

"We could probably do that...have you ridden the Subway yet? That's like an underground train."

"Yeah, I rode to Coney Island. I go on all the rides with Morgan an' Nate."

Steve smiled. "You like Morgan?"

Jamie made a rather complicated face for a four year old. "She's crazy, but I like her, too. She always wants to break the rules."

Steve laughed. "That's exactly how I felt about her dad…"

"...I miss Uncle Tony."

"I miss him, too, buddy. He was...he was my friend."

They walked towards the kids' section, which had a large array of books and a few toys-including a train table with track and tiny engines.

"Thomas!" Jamie said, pulling at Steve's hand.

Steve let himself be dragged toward the table, his mouth stretching slowly from ear to ear.

Jamie plopped down beside the table and started to connect cars to a blue engine with a red number one painted on the side.

"This one is Thomas." he explained. "In the stories, he's nice but kind of dumb. This one is Percy, he's kinda dumb, too. James is snooty. Edward is the nicest. Gordon thinks he's the best. Edward's my favorite because he's old an' smart."

"There are stories?" Steve asked, feeling a bit out of his depth.

"Yeah, lots! Uncle Bucky found them an' he an' mommy read them to me. I can almost read them myself but some of the words are too hard. Dad, will you read to me?"

Steve blinked. "R-right now?"

"No, maybe later. Right now I wanna play with the trains."

"...who can I be?"

"You wanna play too?"

"Yeah, I do."

Another complicated look flitted across Jamie's face-this kid was too deep for his own good.

"Are you gonna play with me lots, now? Like Uncle Bucky an' Sam, an' Uncle Clint?"

Steve nodded and tried to speak around the lump in his throat.

"Y-yeah, bud. That's what dads do."

"...oh. I never had one before."

"Well...I never had a son before, either. So maybe we both can learn together, huh?"

"Okay. Do you wanna be Henry, Dad? He's the green one. He's second nicest."

Steve reached out and took the green train slowly. "Sure. But you'll have to teach me how to play."

"Okay!"

When Christy finally found them forty minutes later, she stayed hidden behind a bookshelf for another five, livestreaming on her phone.

The video got over thirty likes and multiple shares.

Bucky, trying to pay attention to wedding plans, grinned down at the sight.

Ya did good, Stevie...my shift is done. Your turn.

I went through a phase of being obsessed with Thomas...had multiple trains and tons of tracks. The stories were the best, as well.

Tune in next time for a Christmas Miracle Epilogue. Three little words: Anastasia Joy Barnes.

Reviews are Steve playing trains with his son.