"The one with the red face frightens me. I don't think I like her," Thor said seriously, pausing his work to look up at the screen.
"She's not so bad, she's just misunderstood," Clint chuckled, elbowing Steve softly in his side. Thor had come in during one of their Mr. Roger's Neighborhood marathons and had been hooked ever since.
"What the hell is this?" Tony asked, freezing in the doorway as he walked into the room. Steve just shrugged, not stopping his movements. He was on a roll and didn't want to mess up.
"Just bros hanging out," Clint said, snipping off the end of his thread with a tiny pair of scissors.
"You're welcome to join us if you'd like," Steve offered, scooting over toward Clint to give Tony space on the couch.
"This is weird," Tony mumbled, slumping into the newly available seat.
"Nah, it's just chill," Clint laughed.
"What are you doing?" Tony asked, leaning over Steve's lap to get a better look at the project in Clint's hands.
"Steve inspired me to get back into doing needlepoint," Clint replied, holding up the cloth in his hand to show off his progress. "I'm making him a butterfly."
"Why a butterfly?"
"I don't know, I just like making butterflies."
"Can I get a butterfly?"
"You're like fourth in line, but you'll get your butterfly," Clint chuckled.
"What are you making?" Tony asked.
"I'm making Clint a scarf," Steve replied, flopping the length he'd created so far over Tony's lap.
"Can I get a scarf?"
"Of course, but you'll have to wait until I finish Natasha's and Bruce's," Steve said.
"And what's up with Thor?"
"I love tiny trees!" Thor exclaimed, pruning the tiniest branch off his current Bonsai. Thor was obsessed with the activity now, spending most of his down time tending to the mini forest he'd accumulated on his floor. Steve had gone down there the other day and had been shocked by the hundreds of trees he found scattered around. Bruce tried to convince Thor to donate or even sell some of them, but Thor was hearing none of it.
"What's happened to us?" Tony wondered, looking around the room.
"We've evolved," Natasha answered, carrying in a tray of crumpets with the oddly shaped pot holders Steve had made a few days ago. Bruce was right behind her, carrying tea.
"Into British people?" Tony asked, sitting back as Bruce carefully poured the hot liquid into the delicate cups.
"Into people who know how to take a breath and enjoy the little things," Bruce replied, handing everyone their servings on a little plate.
"Man, if people could see me now," Tony chuckled, looking over everyone with a twinkle in his eyes. "It's nice."
"That it is," Clint agreed.
"So what's the plan for today?" Tony asked.
"I'm meeting with Dr. Charles tonight," Steve answered casually, although inside he was pretty nervous.
"A bit later than usual," Tony pointed out.
"She said there was a place she wanted to take me," Steve said. After a few weeks of sessions, Steve had kind of let slip that he was feeling discouraged by what he considered a lack of progress. Dr. Charles disagreed, saying he'd already come such a long way, but they could try something different if he wanted to. He didn't know what to expect, but he was desperate for some substantial change. Life in the tower was getting too comfortable and he was afraid he'd get used to it and never want to go back to being Captain America.
"Do you want one of my drivers to take you?" Tony offered.
"No thanks, I think the doctor has it covered," Steve declined with a smile. He was sure that Tony would take that opportunity to keep track of where he was going, just in case. Steve appreciated that care, but he needed to do this on his own.
"Tony would be throwing a fit if he knew we were taking a cab around," Steve chuckled, leaning back to look out the window at all the bustle of the city.
"Why is that?" Dr. Charles asked.
"He likes to remind us often about his fleet of cars that are readily available," Steve smirked, shaking his head at the thought. Steve hadn't seen even half of them driven yet.
"Is that the only reason?" she prodded.
"I think he still worries about me too," Steve acknowledged, flicking his eyes toward the driver. He didn't seem to be paying attention to their conversation, but he still kept his voice quiet. "I don't think he would admit it, but the idea of me leaving still makes him anxious. One of the last times I went off on my own without telling anyone where I was going was to my old apartment, and that was pretty traumatic for everyone. I know that memory is still fresh for him and he's still carrying that guilt."
"And how does that make you feel? Knowing Tony likes to keep tabs on you?"
"If you'd asked me that a few months ago, I would've said I hated it. It would've felt controlling and like he didn't trust me. But now, it's kind of comforting. I know he's doing what he does because he cares. And I can say with confidence that if I told him to back off, he would try his best to do that."
"It sounds like you two have made great strides."
"It hasn't always been easy, especially at first, but he hasn't let me down since we started putting forth the effort. I'm happy with where we are now and excited to see where we'll end up."
"It's nice to hear you talk about the future in a positive way," Dr. Charles commented. Steve hadn't even realized he was doing it.
"It feels good to be able to."
After a few more minutes, they pulled in front of a dark building. Steve didn't recognize it, not having come to this part of the city before.
"What is this place?" Steve asked, looking around for a sign or clue.
"You'll see. Follow me," she directed, leading him up to the front door. It opened up into a small museum, nothing like the flashy ones Tony had shown him pictures of before. There were subdued little displays scattered around, but what it lacked in showiness, it made up for in obvious care. Steve walked over to the closest one, looking at a picture of a group of men in military uniforms.
"Who are they?" Steve asked, running his fingers along the wooden stand.
"These are the soldiers no one talks about. The ones who went to war and came back without fanfare. At least, some of them came back," Dr. Charles explained with a touch of sorrow in her voice at the end. "This place was started by a group of veterans who wanted to make sure the legacies of the people who served were honored and not forgotten."
"That sounds nice, but I'm not really sure what that has to do with me," Steve said, turning away from the story of the sacrifice of a young corporal. His life was splayed out in buildings all over the world, packaged and presented like he was the hero everyone should strive to be, instead of the tragedy every young life lost was. "I don't belong in a place like this."
"Captain America might not, but that may not be the case for Steve Rogers," she said lightly, gesturing for him to follow her into another room. "That debate isn't what we're here for though. We're here for this." She opened up the door to reveal a brighter room filled with a group of around five or six people.
"What's this?" Steve asked, not mentally prepared to be confronted by strangers. The normal sessions weren't looking too bad right about now.
"Hello everyone, thank you for agreeing to meet me here. I'm Dr. Beverly Charles and this is my friend Steve," Dr. Charles said, walking forward and leaving Steve to stand alone in the doorway. He followed, not wanting to look like he was about to bolt at any second. Even though that's what he wanted to do. Opening up to the people he actually knew was hard enough, he couldn't see himself doing the same with an audience.
"Good to meet you, Steve," one of the men said politely, nodding his head in greeting. "My name is Harry and this is my little slice of American history."
"This is a very nice place you have, sir. You're doing such a great thing," Steve said sincerely. He really hoped the owner being here didn't mean Dr. Charles was planning on pitching the man to give Steve's story a place here.
"Thank you. And Harry is just fine," Harry chuckled. He went on to introduce the others who were in the room as they grabbed seats in the chairs surrounding a round table. Steve followed suit, sitting down next to Dr. Charles. "So what brings you here?"
"Um…" Steve started before trailing off. What could he say? He honestly wasn't sure why he was here and even if he was, what could he say? His past wasn't really something he exposed to random people.
"We were hoping to hear some stories of what it's like for soldiers after they come back from war, if you wouldn't mind sharing," Dr. Charles piped up.
"Of course not," Harry agreed easily, letting the others in the room go first. Steve heard stories of a man who'd gotten injured before seeing combat and had his whole squadron leave without him and never come back. And a woman who'd lost hearing in one ear after an explosion. The rest of the stories went along in the same fashion, with each of them finishing with details of their years after, rejoining the civilian world and forging new paths. Steve was happy to hear that they'd all been able to go on with their lives, but none of the stories could really compare to what he went through. And what he was still facing. Until Harry shared his story.
"This was me not long after I made it through training," Harry said, sliding over an old picture. There were two men smiling at the camera and it reminded Steve achingly of him and Bucky.
"Who's this?" Steve asked, tapping on the man who was standing next to a younger Harry.
"Larry. We met on our first day in and got heckled by the others because of our rhyming names. We were inseparable from the start," Harry chuckled, accepting the picture as Steve slid it back. "Our bunks were next to each other and we'd talk for hours every night. Lar was planning on being a teacher when he got out. I was convinced I was going to climb the ranks and make a career out of the military, like my old man had. But life has a way of changing your plans."
"What happened?" Steve asked. He knew this wasn't going to have a happy ending.
"Spending all that time together, it can really change a relationship. We never planned for it to happen, but we fell in love. Of course we couldn't let anyone know, because of how things were at the time, but we started making plans. When the war was over, he was going to school like he'd always dreamed of and I was going to work construction. Life don't always turn out like you want it to though.
"We walked into an ambush and people were falling left and right. I knew I was going to die out there that day, and I felt so much guilt over knowing I was going to leave the man I'd never gotten the chance to be with. I saw the bullet that was coming for me, but never saw Larry diving in front of it. He died right there in my arms, after saving my life."
"I'm so sorry," Steve whispered, shaking his head mournfully. It was like Bucky and Peggy all wrapped up into one person.
"I was so angry and depressed and I couldn't even grieve properly because it had to stay secret. I had to pretend it was just another fellow soldier lost instead of what could've been the love of my life. I had to keep fighting like nothing was wrong, like the biggest and most important thing to me hadn't been ripped away forever. That perfect soldier act I'd been putting on had to stay, but there wasn't even a prize waiting for me at the end. The first chance I had to leave, I took," Harry said, staring down at the picture of his lost love.
"What did you do next?" Steve asked.
"I spent a lot of time angry. When I wasn't isolating myself, I was lashing out at anyone who came near me. I didn't see the point in living anymore, now that my reason was gone. It wasn't until I hit rock bottom and got help that I started to live again. After a lot of hard work, I realized that Larry would be so disappointed seeing me like this. And I would never have wanted him to choose my path if I was the one who'd died that day. But it wasn't easy."
"How do you get past it?"
"You don't, not completely. I know that's never the answer anyone wants to hear, but something like that changes you in a way that can never be erased. But that doesn't mean you can't get better. It took me a while, but I found a partner that fills my whole heart in a way I thought it never could anymore. And that just set off a whole new wave of guilt, because I felt like I was betraying Larry. But I realized I wasn't happy in spite of him, I was happy because of him. I was only here because of him and that love we shared and nothing was gained from me never giving any to someone else."
Steve scrubbed a hand down his face, trying to focus on the hopefulness of the message instead of the pain behind it. All these people had gone through so much, lost so much, but they were still here and willing to fight for happiness.
"Loss is a part of life. One of the worst parts, but something unavoidable. It's up to you to decide if it breaks you or if you do the work to keep going," Dr. Charles said. Steve had already been working so hard these past months, and the rewards had been more substantial than he could've imagined. He wanted more. He wanted to get to where these people had gotten, he just had to be willing to face his demons and put forth the effort. Maybe he was ready?
"Would you all mind telling me a bit more about your lives now? I think I'd like to hear it," Steve said. He spent the rest of the day listening to stories of marriages, kids, and careers. There was still sorrow and pain, but the one thing he didn't hear was regret.