Double the chapters today because I feel like it!

Chapter 22: Twenty-Seven

The soccer team had a tradition of going out together for drinks on birthdays. Bucky leapt at the opportunity to drink his way through another horrible grief day. Steve always made his birthdays memorable. This time, without him, it hardly felt like an occasion worth celebrating. So Bucky was another year older. What did it matter? That was only another year that separated him from his husband.

He was turning twenty-seven. The oldest Steve would ever be. That didn't sit well with him.

The boys were their usual rowdy selves, and Bucky let himself get lost in their antics. It was preferable to guess how many shots Jacques could get through before his French accent thickened to the point nobody could understand him than it was to guess how many more birthdays he'd get compared to Steve. Bucky knocked back a few shots right off the bat, in the hopes he'd stop thinking about anything of consequence. It worked. Half an hour in, he was blissfully drunk and eagerly listening to Walker rant about how he was once mistaken for a time-traveling Kurt Russell.

"That's bullshit!" Jerome called.

"No, I'm serious. This woman was so high she was convinced of it."

"Did you go along with it?"

"I tried to. She busted me when I misquoted one of his old movies. I don't know jack shit about Kurt Russell."

"You look nothing like him," Hector declared.

"Maybe if you grew out your beard," Josiah proposed.

"I'm gonna run to the bathroom," Bucky announced. Alcohol always ran right through him. If this evening lasted much longer, he'd definitely find himself running there again. He wanted to make this as quick a trip as possible so he could get back to the action. The relative quiet and calm in the men's room gave him time to think, which was the last thing he wanted.

Another guy came in a few moments after he did and stood two spaces to his left. The man glanced at Bucky for half a second—the classic 'I noticed your limb difference and want another look but I won't be rude and stare' glance that Bucky knew and loathed—but then he did a double take and that quick glance turned into full-on staring. Bucky felt his eyes boring into him, but refused to look back and make this even more awkward. He willed himself to finish peeing faster so he could get the fuck out of here, but his bladder had other ideas.

The other guy actually finished a few seconds before him. Bucky snapped the magnets on his pants shut and braced himself for more staring as he turned to the row of sinks. He hated washing his hand in public bathrooms because he couldn't get the back of it and got paranoid about all the germs he was carrying back there. If Steve held his hand, he'd touch the back and then he might get sick. But that didn't matter anymore.

Bucky expected the guy to stare at his hand, but hoped he'd actually mind his own business. Instead, he stared at the side of Bucky's head. If Steve were here too, he'd probably tell the guy to fuck off, but Bucky never did have the same stomach for confrontation. He noticed the guy seemingly finished washing his hands, but then went back for a second round of soap and scrubbing. Either he was actually determined to get his hands that clean, or he was stalling. Bucky pulled his hand out from the water and grabbed a paper towel. The man's gaze followed him the entire time. Were Bucky any more drunk, he would've snapped at the guy, but his judgement wasn't that impaired yet.

He reached for the door to finally leave, and only then did the guy speak. "Barnes?"

Bucky stopped in his tracks. This person wasn't just a rude gawker, he recognized Bucky. "You know me?" Bucky didn't even turn around to reply, still half in and half out of the bathroom.

"Helmut Zemo. I played soccer at South River. The Red Skulls."

That was certainly not what he expected to hear. Bucky held the door for him as they both walked out of the bathroom and towards an empty corner of the bar. He remembered the Red Skulls. And Zemo. They were the Howling Commandoes fiercest competition, Zemo especially.

"I remember you," Bucky said curtly.

"What are the odds we run into each other all these years later?"

"I don't know. Probably pretty slim."

"What have you been up to?"

Bucky did not want to spend twenty minutes playing catch up with this random guy from a rival high school, but he didn't see any way to get out of this naturally. Maybe Josiah would grow suspicious of the length of his bathroom trip and come to find him.

"More soccer, actually."

"Really? I don't remember seeing your name on any of the college rosters."

Though he practiced with the UVA team, his name was never on their list, just the amputee soccer one. Clearly, Zemo didn't know that the adaptive version of the sport existed. Bucky didn't feel like explaining it to him. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

"Oh, you're married. Congratulations!"

Bucky froze with his hand still on his head. He still wore the damn ring every day. Why? To get it off he'd have to use either his teeth, his toes, or the thumb and pinky finger of his hand, and all of those methods required such focus and concentration that by the time he made any progress getting it off he'd changed his mind and started crying. Wearing it on the right hand symbolized widowhood anyway, so he thought he might as well just leave it and save himself the emotional turmoil.

"Uh…yeah," he said. There was no way he was explaining Steve—especially Steve's death—to this stranger. Zemo's enthusiastic "Congratulations" echoed in his head. Bitterness surged within him. That comment should've made him smile, maybe even introduce Zemo to Steve, who was here celebrating Bucky's birthday with him. Instead, he had to fake it.

"That's great. Is she here with you?"

"No, actually…she's…out of town." The lie tasted like lemon and for a second, he thought he might have to plunge right back into the bathroom to throw up. Bucky swallowed down the nausea and the deceit. Forgive me, Steve.

"Oh, okay."

Bucky seized his chance to escape. "I'm actually here with some friends; they're probably expecting me back soon."

"Okay. Don't let me keep you. It was nice to run into you."

"Yeah. You…too."

Bucky dashed away. "What took you so long?" Walker asked.

~0~

"I wasn't sure about the purple vertical stripes, but I must admit, they've grown on me," Victor said of the nursery. Three of the four walls were painted that way, but the fourth, the one with the window to the backyard, was covered in wood paneling. Victor had just finished hanging the yellow floral curtains they picked out while Wanda watched from the rocking chair eating orange slices.

"I'm glad. I think it's a very calming color."

"Is there anything else? Or are we officially done furnishing the last room in the house?"

Wanda rose to her feet. "I think…we're done." It had taken them weeks to get through everything, but the nursery was the last room on their to-do list. Wanda spun in a slow circle to take in the beautiful little home they'd created for their children. There was the stork that she painted herself, the paint only dry as of last night, the butterfly mobiles that she set above each crib, the little white changing table to match. A fluttering sensation began, the likes of which she'd never felt before. Wanda's eyes widened and she let out a gasp as she realized what this was. The babies must've sensed her excitement about their room.

"Viz, they're moving!" she announced.

"Really?"

"I'm sure of it. It's like a fluttery sensation."

"Butterflies in the tummy, huh?" he remarked, gesturing to the mobiles.

"I suppose so. But usually that expression means you're nervous. I'm not nervous right now."

"Are you sure?"

She furrowed her brows in confusion. "Yeah. Why?"

"You promised your parents you'd call them this afternoon."

Oh. Right. They knew she and Victor had moved into this house together, but they didn't know anything about the babies. Wanda hadn't told them because, well…because her parents still hadn't quite forgiven her for marrying Victor in secret. And without a rabbi. But that was secondary to their not being invited. Wanda explained to them why she and Victor had decided to go without any fancy ceremony, but they just didn't get it. She knew they'd be excited to hear about grandkids, but she didn't know how to bring it up through the tension that now existed between them. Victor talked her into agreeing to speak with them, and she'd relented mostly to stop his nagging. His parents already knew, but she made it very clear that nobody was to tell her parents that they were the last to know. She didn't need them mad at her for that too.

Afternoon came far too quickly for her liking. She briefly considered saying she was too tired, but she was the same level of tired every day from carrying around two little sapsuckers. Victor wouldn't buy it for a second. At two o'clock—eight o'clock Sokovia time—they sat down with Victor's laptop to video call them. Wanda made sure the angle of the camera only showed them from the shoulders up.

Mama and Papa greeted her first in Sokovian, but then switched to English for Victor's sake. "How are you both?"

"We're great," Wanda said. "We just finished setting up the last room in the house this morning."

"That's wonderful. I can't wait to come visit and see it in real life," Mama said. Victor had been sending her updates after they finished decorating each room. She was obsessed with their dish drainer and spice rack in the kitchen, of all things.

Wanda didn't want to sit on this call working herself up over sharing this news any longer than she had to, so she got right to the point. "Victor and I have something to tell you."

Mama's eyes widened. Papa just looked concerned.

"I'm pregnant."

Wanda had to admit that watching their faces react was quite amusing. Mama nearly slapped Papa in her excitement. "How far along?"

"About four months."

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" Papa asked.

Wanda did not want to answer that honestly. But Victor was a terrible liar, so she couldn't let him answer for her. She made up something on the spot. "We wanted to wait a little bit, just in case something happened."

"Okay." Mama sounded completely sympathetic. Wanda could only imagine how scary it must've been for her to be pregnant with conjoined twins. It was a miracle she and Pietra even made it into the world in the first place.

"That's not all…" she added. "It's twins."

"What? Wow," she and Papa both exclaimed. "Double the fun, but double the trouble," Papa remarked.

"I know, I know. We're excited." She tapped Victor's hand and let him lace his fingers through hers before giving it a squeeze. "We just found out at the last scan that they're both boys."

The word "boys" was hardly out of her mouth when Papa asked "Are you having a bris?"

Wanda suppressed a sigh of frustration. "We haven't talked about it yet. I'll let you know."

He tsked in clear disapproval, but didn't push the subject further. Victor looked at her in utter confusion. "I'll explain later," she told him.

"Have you thought about names yet?" Mama asked.

"Yes, but we're keeping them between us until they're born."

"Okay. I'm so happy for you, miláčik."

Wanda couldn't help but smile. Now that the news was out, there was little trace of the lingering animosity her parents had previously displayed. She knew they'd make great grandparents. "What do you want them to call you?" she asked.

Mama had an answer ready almost immediately. "Babička. Or Babka, when they're still learning to speak. You will be speaking Sokovian with them, right?"

"Don't worry Mama, they'll learn some Sokovian." Wanda was actually curious to see if they'd develop a sort of hybrid accent between her and Victor's.

"Good."

"Papa? Do you know what you want to be called?"

"Zayde."

Wanda recognized the commonly used Jewish term. That's what she and Pietra had called their grandpa on Papa's side. Mama's parents, she never got to meet. Hopefully, they'd be able to visit frequently enough that the kids had some memories of their grandparents. Wanda knew it would be hard, especially for Mama, to live so far away from her grandkids. They picked up the computer to show them around the newly-finished nursery, the entire journey punctuated by Mama's squeals of delight.

"Oleg, you are taking off work when these babies are born so we can go meet them," Mama insisted.

"Okay, okay."

They chatted until Wanda's parents needed to go to bed. She breathed a sigh of relief and took a lap around the room when they finally hung up. That was…not as bad as she'd feared it might be. "That went well," Victor remarked.

"Yeah, it did. They're clearly excited. Think they forgive us for not inviting them to our not-wedding?"

"I think they do."

Wanda wasn't so sure, but it didn't really matter at the moment. She wasn't sure if she wanted them to visit when the babies were born. The help would probably be appreciated, but their relationship just hadn't been the same since Pietra died. Wanda often felt like no matter what she did, she'd always be half a daughter to them. But, as her belly fluttered again with the movement of her two little boys, she hoped they'd help her parents feel like their family was a little less empty.

"I think this family really needs you guys," she told them. "Thanks for choosing me to be your mom."