Chapter 23: May
As April wound down to an end, Bucky grew sick with dread. This May was about to be the worst month of his life. So many firsts…their anniversary, Carol May's birthday, and the day Steve died. He didn't want to endure any of it. Bucky would've given anything to just skip right to June. But of course that wasn't possible.
"Hey man, you okay?" Josiah asked on the way home from practice. His tone was casual, inviting Bucky to just say yes and move on if he wanted to, or start a deeper conversation.
"Do I seem worse?" Bucky asked flatly. He'd been trying to hide how awful he felt from his teammates this past week, but clearly he wasn't doing that good a job.
"Not exactly. You just seem…distant."
"Sorry. I'm just…not ready for it to be May."
"You don't have to apologize for it. I can see how May would be an especially hard month. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"I don't know. But thank you for asking."
"Any time. I'm serious, if you want to get out of the house for a bit, or just have someone listen to you, shoulder to cry on, any of that, just let me know."
"Thanks, man. I'll let you know. Probably, I'll just need patience. My fuse gets a lot shorter on bad days."
"Understandable."
They reached Bucky's house. Josiah stopped in front of the driveway and let him out. Bucky found himself eager for some alone time with Alpine. He appreciated Josiah's efforts, but sometimes people offering to help him just made him feel worse. It was only a reminder that he was stuck in this perpetual misery, that people felt bad for him. Bucky had hoped he was done being pitied once the whole cancer debacle was over.
~0~
Once the calendar turned to May, Bucky's anniversary seemingly arrived all at the same time. That week in between was a complete blur and simultaneously the longest week of his life. He spent all of Saturday, the seventh, hiking with some teammates. It had rained the night before, and the terrain was so muddy that Walker lost the shoe off his prosthetic. Fortunately, they were able to rescue it.
That night, though, he had his worst nightmare in a while. He dreamed that Dr. Potts was telling him his white blood cell counts were too low and he'd have to cancel the wedding. The emotional distress that descended upon his dream-self upon hearing this news was so intense it stirred up his stomach and he spent the rest of the dream puking until he passed out. His losing consciousness coincided with his waking from the dream. However, the nausea carried over, and he barely made it to the bathroom before he threw up for real. After that, Bucky curled up on the bathroom floor and wished he would pass out. No such luck. He lay there until sunrise, shivering and off-and-on dry heaving.
Bucky hauled himself to his feet to go rinse his mouth out and hopefully keep some water down. On his way there, he ended up stopping in front of the two-person gauntlet Dr. Lee had gifted them for their wedding. He stared at it, wondering how he was supposed to function when Steve possessed all aspects of his life. Alpine begging for breakfast finally tore him away and halted that train of thought.
Determined to have a better morning than he did night, Bucky put coffee on and forced himself to go outside and check the mail. He hadn't checked it in days. Inside, he found a few pieces of junk mail and a large yellow envelope with the return address of Steve Danvers. Bucky knew immediately what it was. He raced back into the house, coffee all but forgotten, and tore it open.
Bucky,
Happy Anniversary. I know it feels impossible to celebrate without me here, but just know that I've loved you more with every anniversary that passed, and that's never going to change. Hopefully the contents of this envelope are a good enough anniversary present that you won't be passive aggressive with me for the next month. I really tried, but I don't think I'm ever going to be able to top painting an entire room to surprise you. That's what I get for going all in on the first year. Your presents were always so thoughtful.
I loved that you always kept up with the traditional materials. It was old-fashioned and that made it all the more endearing. I'm sorry I won't be there to receive it this year. However, I propose a new tradition: buy yourself something special and consider it a gift from me. Every year from here on out. I know it's not the same, but I want you to have something to make you smile today. This year, number six, is either candy or iron, so either put together a basket of your favorite sweets or…put up a wrought iron fence around our house or something. Or maybe a clothes iron. You never hang up your clothes, so it would probably be a good investment.
I love you. Happy Anniversary,
Steve
The accompanying drawing must've been drawn from memory. It depicted Bucky on their wedding day, his face smeared with cake. Looking at it, he could almost smell the rich vanilla and the sugar of the icing. Bucky suddenly knew exactly what he wanted to do today. He bought up all the Starburst jelly beans—which were miraculously still on sale despite Easter being three weeks ago. "Thanks, Steve," he muttered when he saw the reduced price. The fact that they were even available was a goddamn miracle. Usually, stores stopped carrying them within a week or so of Easter. Bucky also bought a few of his favorite chocolate bars. The jelly beans reminded him of Steve because they'd been his favorite candy, but Bucky had always preferred chocolate.
He brought his stash home and pulled out their wedding album. Bucky spent the next two hours flipping through pictures and snacking on jelly beans until his stomach hurt. It was almost a relief, to feel sick from something other than grief for once. Alpine sat beside him and Bucky told the cat all about his favorite memories from this day. Steve's vows. Josiah's toast. The flash mob their friends put on. His and Steve's first dance. It was hard to believe all of this happened six years ago when it felt like a lifetime.
"Happy Anniversary, Steve."
~0~
Parker knew that Carol May's birthday would arouse conflicting emotions. It was an exciting occasion to celebrate and at the same time an anniversary of deep mourning. For that reason, he and MJ agreed to keep the party small, and they asked Bucky if he would like them to host it on Memorial Day. They knew being around family would probably make the day the least dreadful it could possibly be. Bucky said yes, and thanked them for considering him. When Parker saw that response, he almost picked up the phone right there to say, "Of course we're considering you. This is a hard time and we don't want to do anything that would make it harder." He said it in a text instead to come across as less aggressive. Bucky didn't respond, but Parker hoped he internalized it.
They kept the guest list to just MJ and Parker's parents, Ned, plus the Avengers and their families. Even with such a conservative list, they would still have fifteen extra people in the apartment. Well, probably only fourteen, since Thor couldn't make it. He promised to send a present, even though Parker told him he didn't have to. She'd be getting enough gifts from her overly-generous grandparents.
Memorial Day weekend was spent doing last-minute grocery shopping to feed those fourteen extra people, plus ingredients for Carol May's birthday cupcakes. Parker, despite all of MJ's attempts to convince him otherwise, was going to decorate them like little Death Stars. "I'm not against Star Wars, I just feel like maybe the weapon of mass destruction isn't the best thing to be putting on our daughter's cake."
"But you know what little kids are like with cake. She's going to smash it to bits. So it'll be like her blowing up the Death Star."
"Fine. As long as you don't use any sprinkles."
"No sprinkles," he promised. Parker spent all of Sunday baking and decorating while Carol May toddled around the kitchen, very curious as to what he was doing. He let her look at the completed cupcakes, but he didn't let her taste test anything. Her first taste of the confection wouldn't be until they had a camera or two trained on her.
By the time he finished, it was dinnertime, followed quickly by Carol May's bedtime. Luckily for them, she'd proved a great sleeper in the past several months. Parker and MJ cleaned up the kitchen and living room in preparation for the party, then settled on the couch. Even though the actual date of her birthday was nearly a week away, Parker was thinking about where they were a year ago on that day. The birth itself was what the doctors called textbook; both MJ and Carol May were healthy as could be, but everything that came after haunted him.
Parker had to constantly stop himself from speeding on the drive to Steve and Bucky's house. It was impossible to balance his wife and daughter's safety with the smothering fear that they'd be too late. He didn't know what he would've done if they didn't make it on time. Parker should have trusted that Steve's determination would carry him through. Still, it sickened him to think about just how close they cut it.
He wished Steve were here to celebrate with them.
~0~
The start time listed on the invitation was two o'clock. Parker's parents arrived at twelve thirty, claiming they wanted to help set up. Daddell actually did help some, but Dad spent all of that time playing with Carol May. Which actually turned out to be helpful because they needed her occupied to give them time and space to decorate.
Bruce, Betty, and Lanyon were the next through the door, apologizing for being an hour early. "Don't worry about it," Parker insisted. Lanyon wandered hesitantly up to Carol May, still crawling. He could stand unassisted for brief periods, and walk with help, but he still hadn't quite mastered the balance required for walking independently. Carol May, as soon as she saw him, switched to crawling as well. Parker admired her willingness to hang back at his pace.
More people didn't start to filter in until fifteen minutes before party time. The pile of presents in the corner grew, entrancing both Carol May and Lanyon. Dad and Ned combined their efforts to keep them from tearing down the stack. By the time the clock reached two fifteen, everyone had arrived but Bucky. Parker considered texting him, but decided against it in case he was driving. If he still hadn't shown by two thirty, Parker would call.
"I can't believe how well she's walking already," Natasha remarked. "You train her?"
Parker laughed. "No. She's just very motivated."
"She's her mother's daughter."
"Definitely."
"Dude, I can't believe you've been a dad for a year already." Ned came up to him and they did their handshake.
"Me neither. It's gone by so fast."
"How does it feel?"
"I'm already fearing the teenage years."
"I think you'll be alright."
"Sorry I'm late," a voice called from the front door. They'd left it open with a sign just telling people to come in. Parker recognized the voice as Bucky's. Clearly, so did Carol May. Despite the endless distraction of toys and people around her, she beelined for the front door happily babbling, "Buh buh buh buh buh buh buh," and wrapped herself around Bucky's leg.
He put down the present he was holding and scooped her up in his arm just as Parker turned the corner. His eyes were red-rimmed but bright as he greeted the little girl. "Hello there, birthday girl. How are you?"
"Buh buh buh," she demanded, one little hand rubbing his stubbled cheek.
"Someone's excited to see Uncle Bucky," Parker remarked.
"Yeah," he agreed. "Do you mind taking this?" he nudged the present with his foot.
"Sure." Parker put it with the others. "Welcome to the party. We're so glad you could make it."
"Wouldn't miss it," he said solemnly. Parker knew he spoke for both of them. Steve wouldn't have missed it if he had any choice in the matter.
Carol May refused to leave Bucky's side even when he entered the living room with all the other people. "I guess we know who the favorite uncle is," Tony remarked. Bucky only shrugged. Parker grabbed a handful of pretzels and sat down among his daughter's many adorers. Carol May crawled insistently into Bucky's lap and then reached her arms out to demand Parker pass her a toy. He met Bucky's gaze as he handed over her stuffed caterpillar. That one look spoke multitudes: "I have no idea why she's so taken with me, but this is exactly what I needed to get through today."
Parker wondered if his daughter could somehow sense just how much Bucky needed her.
The snacks gradually depleted, Carol May showed off her impressive skills of babbling and demanding attention, and all the adults enjoyed catching up. Parker's parents didn't exactly have baby stories of him to tell, but MJ's did. He was afraid she was going to straight up walk out of the room when they got to the time she locked herself in the car, then did it again a week later because she liked the female firefighter that came to get her out. Parker came to the rescue by announcing that they should break out the cupcakes.
MJ set up Carol May's highchair while everyone gathered around the table. Carol May protested sitting down until Bucky slid into the chair beside her. Parker brought out the tray of cupcakes to a chorus of compliments from their guests. "You made these?" Tony asked.
"Yeah."
"They're so beautiful," Ned said.
"But how do they taste?" Nick asked.
"Knowing Parker, as good as they look," Natasha said.
"I'm afraid there's only one person whose opinion I value for these cupcakes in particular," Parker explained. He stuck a candle in one of the cupcakes and lit it. Carol May was utterly bewildered when everyone started singing, but at least she didn't start crying. MJ blew out the candle for her and plucked it out, licking off the frosting that stuck. Parker peeled off the wrapper and left the cupcake within arms' reach. Ned, entrusted videographer, stood at the other end of the table.
Carol May had no idea what to do with the object in front of her. She started with a hesitant hand in the frosting. When it stuck to her fingers, she switched her focus to smearing it all over her hand. Bucky broke off a piece and offered it to her. "You're supposed to eat it, silly." She merely crushed the chunk of cake in her grasp. Parker grabbed his own cupcake and modeled taking a bite. Finally, Carol May understood. She grabbed another chunk and brought this one to her mouth.
Parker watched her face eagerly. He was so focused on her that he almost missed Bucky wiping away a tear. Fortunately, nobody drew any attention to it. "Gah," Carol May exclaimed, already reaching for another handful. Over the course of the next minute, she obliterated the thing. Maybe thirty percent was actually consumed, the rest smeared either on her hands or the high chair's tray, but she was having just as much fun with her fingers in the icing as she was with tasting the cake.
"I think it's safe to say she liked it," MJ said.
"This tastes like Star Wars," Nick remarked.
"How could you possibly have known that?" Tony asked him.
"Parker made them. There's only so many ways that can go."
The entire table erupted into laughter.
~0~
"I fucking hate Memorial Day," Bucky grumbled. This was his first session with Raynor after the one-year anniversary, and he had a lot he needed to get off his chest.
"That's a strong statement. Why do you hate it?"
"Steve died on Memorial Day—the stupid, patriotic son of a gun." Bucky didn't know if he'd ever told Dr. Raynor the exact date before. She wrote something in her notebook and waited for him to continue. "And the stupid holiday is always on a Monday. So I basically endured two anniversaries. The actual date it happened, and Memorial Day."
"That sounds really hard."
Bucky ran an exhausted hand through his hair. He still hadn't gotten it cut, though he'd definitely needed one for months now. "Yeah, it was." Memorial Day fell almost a week before the actually anniversary, so the party turned out to be only a hint of the pain that was to come. Bucky spent May thirty-first at Steve's grave, mindlessly babbling about the party and how much he missed him. There wasn't even a note or a drawing to ease his suffering. He cried so much it gave him a headache, but he'd been too exhausted to even get himself a glass of water to rehydrate. Clenching his jaw to fight back more tears, he waited for Dr. Raynor to offer something more than just validation.
"It's okay if you need to cry. Anniversaries are always very emotional."
"I cried plenty on both anniversaries," he said shortly. "I—I don't want to cry anymore."
"But do you need to?"
Now he just felt angry. "I don't know. Maybe. I don't fucking know what I want or need anymore, besides—" he cut himself off. There was only one thing that he wanted right now, and it was the only thing he couldn't have. Saying his name, acknowledging that need, would definitely make him cry again.
"Do you want to finish that sentence?"
Sometimes he wished she wasn't so damn observant. "No."
"Okay. How did you spend the anniversary? Both of them."
"I went to my niece's birthday party. They had it on Memorial Day."
"How was the party?"
"It was actually really nice. But I was miserable at the same time." Bucky hoped none of his friends noticed just how miserable. "I know they chose this day so I would be distracted and have company, which was great and I really appreciated it, but there's a lot of…history." Dr. Raynor already knew the story, so he didn't feel the need to repeat it.
"Did being around other people help?"
"Yeah. As I said, I was glad they decided to have the party that day because it gave me something to do. If I spent it by myself…definitely would have been worse. The beginning of the day, before the party, was really bad. The entire time I just kept thinking about how much he would've wanted to be there. He knew that kid for maybe fifteen minutes and he was head over heels in love. I just wish…I wish I could see what would've become of their relationship."
"Missing our people during the big milestones is one of the hardest things about grieving. There's no way around that. It fucking sucks that they're not there, and there's nothing that can be done about it."
Bucky hadn't expected to hear her curse, but found that he actually appreciated it. Without the usual layer of professional politesse with which she delivered her words, it felt much more validating, like she understood the depth of the pain he was in.
"That was surprisingly helpful to hear."
"Good. I've seen a lot of people who want to know how to feel better on days like that, but the truth is that there are some things that we just have to let suck as hard as they do. You can find things—people, pets, other healthy coping mechanisms—that might distract you from that pain or make you feel less alone within it, but some pain can't be diminished."
Bucky actually thought this was some of the best advice she'd ever given him. This situation reminded him of the horrible phantom pain days he used to have. Medication and massage did nothing to ease it; in fact, the only thing that ever helped was Steve running his fingers up and down Bucky's forearm. The pain was still there. His arm was still missing, the space left behind filled with only agony. None of that changed. Steve's ministrations were just a distraction, a small good feeling in a sea of hurt.
Steve's death left Bucky adrift in a vast ocean of hurt. No land in sight. There were islands, though. Little islands of respite from the current threatening to pull him under. Alpine rubbing his head against Bucky's legs. Natasha driving two hours to deliver him Russian soup. Josiah and the team inviting him for drinks after practice. Parker and MJ having their daughter's party on the day he needed the company most. Carol May toddling up to him demanding a hug the second he walked through the door. His family granted him enough small good feelings to ensure he didn't drown in the hurt.