Steve XV: The Tattoo
Steve found himself working in his sketchbook even more often than he used to. Maybe because drawing was one of the only activities he could still do without growing short of breath. Or maybe because he wanted to get as many of his thoughts down on paper as possible before he wasn't around to think them anymore. Steve had grown up knowing his days were numbered fewer than most people's, but only now that his physical decline was so obvious did he wish that wasn't the case.
On a whim, he drew a purple ribbon. And then on a second whim, he drew a golden one woven through it. The result was both beautiful and profound. Steve stopped and stared at the simple yet infinitely meaningful piece he'd just created, and the longer he looked the more a desperate longing welled up within him.
"I need to show you something," he texted Bucky immediately. While awaiting his response, Steve did nothing more than continue to contemplate the drawing. At work, his mom always wore a purple ribbon on her scrubs. When patients asked her about it, she pounced on the opportunity to increase CF awareness by even just a little bit. Practically the entire country knew the significance of the pink ribbon, but many other diseases sat further in the recesses of obscurity, known only to those impacted by them. CF and pediatric cancer included.
At first, Bucky had been repulsed by the thought of his cancer leaving him with something in common with Steve. Steve still regretted what he'd said in that moment when his friend was so emotionally fragile, and he was immensely grateful they'd gotten through it without further argument. But now, Bucky looked back on that journey with at least some fondness, understanding that it had brought them closer together in ways no other kind of experience ever could.
"What's up?" Bucky replied. Steve texted him a picture of the drawing and briefly laid out his plan. The three dots indicating Bucky was typing popped up and disappeared again. And again. Finally, he sent a message, and Steve couldn't stop the joyous whoop that escaped his lips. It read: "I thought you'd never ask."
~0~
Gabe, one of their only friends with a regularly available car, picked them up the next day and they drove to a place that their soccer buddy had insisted was the best, both in terms of pricing and friendliness. As much as Steve loved walking through his home city, traveling farther than a block was no longer within his capabilities. "When you said, 'I thought you'd never ask,' what exactly was it you thought I'd never ask?" Steve questioned. "Because what I asked is pretty specific."
Bucky laughed. "While I don't have your skill for design, I have actually thought about doing something like this before. But I was too scared to ask you because I thought you would find it stupid."
"Why would you think that?"
"I dunno. I wasn't sure you'd be willing to do something so…permanent."
"Well, given that most of the permanent marks on my body were put there for exclusively medical purposes, I kinda like the idea of having one that actually means something."
"You just explained that in the most Steve way possible," Bucky chuckled. Steve glanced forward at Gabe in the driver's seat, then at Bucky beside him, a laugh building in his chest. Gabe dropped them off at the place and promised to return whenever they texted him saying they were ready.
"Where are you going to get yours?" Bucky asked.
"It's a secret," Steve replied.
"Don't make it weird."
"It's not weird. You'll see."
"Why do I get the feeling we have the same idea?"
"Maybe because we have the kind of relationship where we unironically get matching tattoos."
"Wait, this is unironic?" Bucky asked. "In that case, I'm out." He took a step back towards the entrance as if to march out, but turned around with a goofy grin before he made it all the way to the door.
"If you want to back out, now's the time," Steve told him.
"No way. We're in this together." He stepped forward and linked his arm through Steve's. Steve playfully shoved him away and pulled the drawing out of his pocket to show the artists.
~0~
They had them done by two artists in separate rooms, and chose not to reveal them to each other until they'd completely healed three weeks later. Steve suspected where Bucky had chosen to place his, but he wouldn't put it past his friend to surprise him.
"You didn't put yours somewhere that's gonna make this weird, did you?" Bucky questioned with a hint of mirth. "Because if your parents walk in and start thinking things, I don't want to be the one to explain it to them."
"Don't be ridiculous," Steve retorted.
"Okay. Just covering my bases. Are you ready?" Steve nodded, and Bucky continued, "On three. One, two, three."
Steve had prepared for this moment. He couldn't rip off a shirt without tangling it in his oxygen tubing, so he wore a zip-up jacket over a tank top that revealed the tattoo. Bucky simply pulled his Henley over his head. As soon as Steve saw it, a laugh burst joyously from his chest. They'd had the same idea indeed. Bucky's gold and purple ribbons curled around each other on his ribcage, right beside where Steve's lung transplant scar might one day sit. Steve turned around to prove to Bucky that great minds do, in fact, think alike, for he'd placed his on his left shoulder.
"Wow. Thinking it was probably there and actually seeing it there are two completely different feelings," Bucky remarked.
"Same here," Steve sighed. Already cold, he put the jacket back on.
"I…honestly can't believe we did that."
"I can. It's about time we did something grossly sentimental. Our moms have been keeping scrapbooks for almost twenty years. I'm sure we inherited some of that from them."
"It's funny you mention that, because she's been trying to get me to sit down with her and look through them for the past six months and I keep coming up with excuses not to."
"Why don't you want to?" Steve asked.
"First of all, because I know it's going to end with her crying that weird mix of happy and nostalgic tears. And second of all, because I know I'm just going to keep looking at my shoulder wondering which pictures have cancer in them."
"I didn't even think about that. Have you told her that's why?"
"Of course not! She'd probably burn them if I said something like that."
"I don't think she'd go that far."
"Maybe not, but the last thing I want to do is make her feel guilty for wanting me to look at them."
"I'm not sure what to tell you. You can't put it off indefinitely. She'll definitely make you do it before you leave for college."
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of."
"What if we did it together? I'm sure my mom would be all over this idea."
"You'd be willing to sit through hours of motherly nostalgia for me?"
"Yeah, of course. We also should figure out a way to tell them about these," Steve said, gesturing to Bucky's chest and his shoulder.
"You're planning to tell your mother that you got a tattoo? That's nuts."
"I can't keep it a secret forever."
"Sure you can, if you were any good at keeping secrets."
"I can keep a secret. I just don't like it when people keep secrets from me, so I feel like a hypocrite when I do it."
"Mr. Righteous strikes again," Bucky grumbled.
"There are worse things to be."
"Yeah, like sandwiched between my mom and yours while they point out twenty times how little and cute we used to be."
"Just get it over with." Steve had actually enjoyed the several times his mom had mandated he join her for a family photo album tour over the years. Yeah, it kind of bummed him out to see himself when he was so much healthier, but he also prided himself on the fact that his overall happiness hadn't dwindled much.
"Fine. Next time she asks, I will say yes and request she invite your mother. Are you sure you're prepared for this?"
"Relax. What's the worst that could happen?"
~0~
"I can't believe you got a tattoo without telling me first!" his mom shouted. Steve, in his lifetime of getting in trouble for picking fights, had never experienced this kind of rage from either of his parents. They gave him a pass on a lot of things—frankly too many—because of his illness, but apparently that didn't extend to this. He hadn't planned on telling her after that conversation with Bucky, but it slipped out. The four of them were crowded around the Barnes' kitchen table, which was completely littered with stacks of photo albums, when Mrs. Barnes pointed out one of five-year-old Steve and Bucky at some kid's birthday party sporting matching temporary tattoos.
The comment slipped out inadvertently. "Who woulda thought we'd one day get the real thing?" As soon as he said it, he knew he messed up. In the moment he'd spoken as if Bucky was the only one listening, but both of their moms heard it too. Now he was really in for it.
"What do you mean, one day get the real thing?" she'd asked suspiciously, and Steve was forced to confess.
"I can't believe you roped me into this," Bucky whispered in his ear. After shouting for the better part of five minutes, Mom finally gathered herself and calmly asked to see it. Steve and Bucky now faced the incredibly awkward situation of partially disrobing in front of them.
"I'm your mother, I've seen it all before," Mrs. Barnes said. "Now off with it." Reluctantly, Bucky pulled up the front of his shirt high enough to reveal the gold and purple ribbons on his chest.
"Happy now?" he asked, releasing the hem and letting the shirt fall back into place.
"Steve?" Mom prompted.
With a sigh, he unlooped the oxygen tubing from behind his ears and handed it to Bucky to hold temporarily. He turned around to show them the mark and counted to three before he slid his shirt back on and whirled to face them once again. He repositioned the cannula on his face and waited for more angry screaming. Instead, Mrs. Barnes and his mom exchanged a glance and both looked back at their sons, eyes glassy like they were about to cry.
"What's wrong?" Bucky asked uneasily.
"It's just so sweet, what you did," Mrs. Barnes explained.
"So you're not mad?" Steve questioned.
"You are adults, I couldn't have stopped you from getting it if I tried. I'm just so relieved to hear it actually means something and isn't the name of your current girlfriend or something equally as idiotic," Mom said.
"Current girlfriend implies that I've had one before," Bucky said with a chuckle.
"You're missing the point."
"I know, I know. So what I'm hearing is…you like it?"
"I don't hate it," she conceded.
"Me neither," Steve's mom agreed.
"Please don't turn this into a group hug," Bucky requested.
"Nope. You abandoned the right to make that decision when you got matching tattoos. Now get in here." The four of them piled together.
"Steve, the next time you get a crazy idea like this one, I'm out. You can take Tony down with you."
Steve couldn't stop the snort of laughter that erupted in reaction to that comment. "Okay."
So...in honor of What If? releasing, a series which I have been just as excited for as all the live action ones, I have a bit of an announcement to make. I have delved so deeply into this AU that I have decided to write an AU within the AU. Let me introduce you to a brand new spinoff coming to wherever you read your fanfic: "Without Gravesen" will explore what might've happened to these characters, as the title suggests, without Gravesen. In other words, what if they'd never gotten sick?
It's still in the early drafting stages, but my plan is to write one chapter for each character (all the ones that have narrated here, and maybe even a few surprises) that illustrates the different path they ended up on without the events of their prequel, Gravesen, or After Gravesen. Some of them will be humorous, some serious, some maybe sad, and some might make THIS story even sadder by highlighting a happier alternative. I am so excited to work on this project, and I hope you will be excited to read it! At this rate, I honestly think I'll be in this AU until I die, but I can think of no better place to spend my free time.