I know you all are eager to reach the part of this story that takes place after the epilogue of After Gravesen (all that juicy, new stuff will be worth the wait, I promise). Chapter 38 is where we cross that threshold. So, let's spend one mega-chapter catapulting an entire year closer to it.
Chapter 31: A Year in Their Lives
January:
Walker had gotten engaged to his high school girlfriend at some point during Bucky's hiatus. Bucky knew this, and yet it still came as a surprise when he received a wedding invitation in the mail. Nobody ever sent him paper mail anymore, except for some of Steve Danvers' messages from Steve. The card was gorgeous, with their names written in silvery cursive and a border of some leafy plant thing. Bucky hated it.
He was happy for Walker, sure, but the presence of this invitation in his mailbox left him very few options. One: make up an excuse to get out of it. Despicably dishonest, and definitely not something Bucky wanted on his conscience. Two: tell Walker the truth about his hesitance to attend. Bucky didn't feel comfortable sharing that level of emotional depth with Walker. Three: just attend the damn wedding. It seemed like the easiest way out, but Bucky had a stinking suspicion that his reaction to watching two high school sweethearts get married would be less than picture-perfect.
The last wedding he went to had been Bruce's, an occasion which felt so impossibly long ago. Bucky stared at the invitation for another five minutes before he told himself to suck it up and go for his teammate's sake. Walker went to his wedding; it was only fair that he return the favor. He opened the little RSVP envelope to fill it out. The fucking piece of paper asked him if he was bringing a plus-one and Bucky completely lost it.
Alpine sprinted into the kitchen at the sound of his cries and pawed insistently at his leg. Bucky sat down right where he was and let the cat climb onto his lap, still bawling. How was he supposed to attend a wedding when just the invitation left him a sobbing mess? Walker probably wouldn't even notice his absence, but he would definitely notice if Bucky had a breakdown during the ceremony. Maybe it was better for all of them if he just didn't go.
But then he'd still have to explain to the guy why he missed it. Walker would probably understand—or at least pretend to—but Bucky still didn't want to bare himself to John like that. They'd been teammates for years, but their relationship just wasn't like that. Besides, the entire rest of the team was definitely going and Bucky didn't want to sit through their endless stories and laughter about the night, knowing he was the only one left out. No, he had to pull himself together and go. He could always duck out if he felt a breakdown or a panic attack coming on. Maybe even get Josiah to look out for him and watch for any signs of impending doom.
Bucky set Alpine down and planted his hand on the chair nearest him, pushing himself to his feet. He filled out the RSVP in the affirmative, ignored the plus-one question entirely, and sealed it before he could change his mind. The tiny envelope came pre-addressed and stamped, so he walked outside without even bothering to put on shoes and sent it off. He'd deal with the repercussions of his decision when the wedding date arrived and not a moment sooner.
~0~
February:
A week from today was a regional Twinless Twins convention. Wanda didn't contribute much to planning it, having spent three months of last year on maternity leave, but she still felt obligated to attend. However, this would be the first time she left the twins overnight. She wasn't sure she'd even be able to do it when the time came. Plus, they hadn't even found a babysitter yet. All of the Avengers lived too far away for the arrangement to be feasible.
Wanda put the boys into their stroller, deciding to turn getting the mail into a walk. Even this many months later, she was still euphoric at how easy it was to bend down and move around now that she wasn't pregnant. Carrying Billy and Tommy in her arms was much less exhausting than carrying them inside her. On her way down the driveway, she spotted Agnes in her yard. "Hi Wanda!" she called. "What'cha doing?"
"Just going for a walk. You?"
"Ralph swears he saw a groundhog dig a hole out here, and I'm trying to prove him wrong."
"Okay."
"Mind if I walk with you?"
"Sure."
Agnes came over and stood beside her. "Hi Billy, hi Tommy." Wanda noticed that Agnes was just as infatuated with the babies as her family was. "They've gotten so big."
"They'll be six months on the twenty-third."
"Wow. They grow up so fast."
"Yep. I'm not ready for them to start crawling soon. I'm not even ready to leave them overnight, but Victor and I have a conference this weekend that we can't miss."
"Oh, do you need a sitter? I'd be happy to look after them," Agnes offered.
"Are you sure?" That would certainly be convenient, having their next-door neighbor watch the boys.
"Absolutely. It would be a treat."
"Ralph wouldn't mind?"
She waved her hand. "Oh please. Ralph wouldn't notice if I adopted a tiger or two. He won't care if I spend that night at your house, or I can bring them home with me if you'd prefer."
"I don't know how they'd sleep in an unfamiliar house, but whichever you're more comfortable with."
"I'll stay at your house, then. Is this Friday or Saturday night?"
"Friday. The convention is Saturday, and we'll try to be back here by ten. Are you sure you can watch them for that long? I know it's a big ask." Wanda didn't know if she doubted Agnes's dedication to babysitting duty or her own ability to leave her kids in the care of another. She should've known she would back down before Agnes.
"Of course. It's no trouble. Right, boys?"
Tommy chose that moment to throw his pacifier from the stroller. Wanda bent to pick it up, but Agnes beat her to it.
"I'll write up a list and keep it on the fridge for you," she said. Well, actually, she'd have Victor do it.
"That would be great, thanks. Oh, this is gonna be a gas!"
Wanda didn't know what that meant. She thought she'd caught up on all the expressions used in America, but that was a new one. Either it was old-fashioned and rarely used, or it was something only Agnes said.
~0~
Victor nearly had to drag her out of the house on Friday. Wanda trusted Agnes, but she hated to be apart from her children for that long. "Relax, Auntie Agnes has got this totally under control."
Wanda took a deep breath and unplanted her feet, letting Victor guide her outside. Agnes knew what she was doing, and she had the list and both their phone numbers in case things went sideways. Everything was going to be fine. "Are you sure they'll be okay?" she asked approximately seventeen times on the way to the hotel. Each time, Victor told her yes. Still, Wanda texted Agnes and asked for updates every few hours.
She could barely focus on the conference, distracted by the absence of Billy and Tommy. A few times she swore she could hear them crying, even though that was definitely impossible. Victor was constantly nudging her to draw her attention back to the conversation. Every time her phone buzzed with an update from Agnes, she checked it, regardless of whether it was socially acceptable to be on her phone at the time. Agnes either sent a photo of the twins happily playing or peacefully sleeping, along with a caption explaining how the past three hours since her last update had gone.
"She's very thorough, isn't she?" Victor remarked, peeking over her shoulder at the lastest update.
"Yes."
Despite the regular reassurances that the boys were safe and happy, Wanda couldn't wait to get home and hold them for herself. If she'd been driving, they would've gone over the speed limit, but Victor steadfastly adhered to the rules of the road. They arrived at the house at nine thirty on Saturday night. It had been over twenty-eight hours since Wanda last held her children, and she felt every single one of those as she peeked into the nursery.
"They went down nicely every single time," Agnes said.
"Are you serious?" Victor asked. They hadn't gotten both twins to go down easily on the same night in almost a month.
"Yes. Is that not typical for them?"
Wanda laughed. "No, it's not. You must have a magic touch."
~0~
March:
"Natasha, this is the coolest hospital I've ever been in—besides Gravesen of course," Kate raved. She'd just accepted a new job in Washington D.C. at a hospital called Triskelion. After only three days working there, her loyalty to the place had grown impossibly strong. Natasha listened eagerly to everything she described, comparing it to her own hospital in Houston. While the job had seemed more appealing than her previous at the time, now that she'd been working here for a bit, she'd begun to suffer from some fundamental problems of the institution.
While the patient population exceeded her expectations in every way—good and bad—the bureaucracy of the place and some of its inner workings really bothered her. All of her coworkers complained about how hard it was to get time off approved, about the amount of work they were required to do at their current salary. Natasha had no complaints about her salary, but she felt respected at work by nobody except her patients. The doctors all looked down their noses at her and her fellow nurses.
"That sounds amazing," she told Kate, trying not to sound too jealous.
"Thanks. How are things in the Wild West?"
Natasha sighed. Kate had given the city that nickname and refused to let it go despite how little sense it made. "Houston is not some cowboy ghost town."
"It's west of the Mississippi. And from what I've heard it's pretty wild."
"Not exactly." The wildest thing to happen to her out here so far was this random bozo at her gym hitting on her while she was busy at the punching bag. Actually, that happened several times with several different bozos, but there was only one bozo who dared do it more than once. Natasha vowed that the next time he spoke to her, she was challenging him to a boxing match.
Kate frowned. "I know you were excited to start this new job, but ever since you moved, you've never really sounded happy."
Natasha should've known she wasn't doing a very good job at hiding her general discouragement. Frankly, she wanted Kate to say something so she'd have some outside encouragement to start looking for something else. She'd never talk herself into it all on her own. "It's not as great as I thought it would be. The actual work is great, I love all my patients, but the overall environment is not very welcoming."
"You should look for a new job, then. If you're not comfortable where you are, you're definitely not giving your best to your patients."
"You're probably right. I just feel like a quitter leaving after working here for so little time."
"Why don't you give it a few more months, and then see how you feel."
"Yeah, that's a good idea. Thanks, Kate."
"You're welcome. Now, unrelated question, but have you ever tried fencing?"
~0~
April:
MJ had to take off work and send Parker to stay at his parents' for a few days. He fought her on it tooth and nail, but he didn't have much grounds for argument after she came home from work to find him and Carol May both curled up on the floor sobbing in separate rooms. Carol May had woken up that morning with her first stomach bug. MJ offered to stay home and help take care of her, but Parker had been adamant he could handle it. Clearly, watching her throw up was too triggering for him, hence the horrific scene before her.
The wife and the mother in her fought to figure out who to comfort first, and the mother ended up winning. She sat with Carol May until her cries ceased and then sat her in front of the television with a Pedialyte and the thinnest straw she could find. Only afterwards did she approach Parker. He hadn't moved from his spot on their bathroom floor and his tears continued to pour forcefully. MJ laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
"She's gonna die." Parker's voice was so broken she could hardly make out the words. MJ hoped that she'd misinterpreted him, but then Parker repeated the statement with more clarity.
"She's not gonna die," MJ assured. "Kids get stomach bugs all the time. I just spoke to her, and she said she's feeling better."
Parker wrapped his hand around her ankle and buried his face in the floor mat. "That's what May said." He shuddered violently.
This was…a more dire situation than she initially anticipated. "This is different," she said. MJ sat down and dragged Parker's torso into her lap so she could hug him properly. He slumped lifelessly against her, still trembling. "What happened to May, that was a once-in-a-lifetime fluke."
"Ben too?"
Damn, he was right. Parker had experienced many supposedly once-in-a-lifetime tragedies. Too many. "I'm sorry, I guess that's not really true. But I promise you Carol May's not that sick. She's watching TV now and drinking some fluids."
"She might get worse."
"I know you're scared, but she's going to be fine. We'll take good care of her."
"You gotta work tomorrow."
"No I don't."
He wiped at his face with the back of his hand, but the tears didn't stop. "It was so scary, watching her get sick."
MJ hugged him tighter. "I know. I don't like it either." When Carol May was a baby, she'd been more annoyed than concerned every time she spit up. Luckily, she didn't do it that often.
"I—I can't do anything. I can't make it stop."
"I know. Nobody can."
"I couldn't even comfort her properly because I was too scared out of my mind. I'm a shit dad."
"You are not a shit dad," she said firmly. "You were triggered by something completely out of your control."
"I—I can't watch it again. I just know I'll end up like this again."
"That's okay." At this point, MJ was already planning to call the Weavers. She sat with Parker for another half an hour, until he stopped crying but long after her legs fell asleep. "I'm gonna go check on Carol May."
He sniffled and nodded. She extricated herself from beneath him, but he stayed on the floor and curled back into a ball. MJ checked on Carol May, denied her more Pedialyte to see first how she tolerated the first serving, and called Alex to explain the situation. "Of course he can stay with us," he said when she proposed the idea. She thanked him and said she'd get back once she talked to Parker.
He'd only drawn his knees further into his chest since she left. "I talked to your dad. He and I think it's a good idea if you stay with them until Carol May's better."
He shot up to sit ramrod straight. "What?"
"I don't want you to keep being triggered if she gets sick again. And I know you don't want that to happen either."
"But, I…I'd be abandoning her." His brown eyes shone with a fresh round of tears.
"You're not abandoning her. I'll be here. She'll be just fine, and very excited to see you when she's better."
"I don't want to leave her."
"I know you don't, but you're not much more help when you're like this," she said candidly.
He looked almost angry for a brief second before his face collapsed into grim acceptance. "Okay."
"I'll pack a bag for you."
"No, I can do it. That's one thing I can do." That last grumble was rife with self-loathing, but MJ knew she'd only make it worse by countering him right now. By the time he finished packing, Alex was at their door to pick him up. As he stood in the doorway poised to leave, Parker fixed her with a parting look of misery.
"I love you," she said.
"Love you too."
Carol May threw up again that night, and a little bit the next morning. MJ did her best to balance keeping Parker updated and avoiding sending him into another spiral. He called her at least every two hours to check in, and she did her best not to sound annoyed when she knew it was just his anxiety talking. By day three, Carol May seemed to be on the mend. As soon as she made it twenty-four hours without vomiting, Parker came home. Their reunion was magical to witness. MJ half expected him to bear some hostility for her making him leave, but after they put Carol May to bed that night he told her, "Thanks for looking out for me. We make a good team."
"Yeah, we do."
~0~
May:
Bruce thought that getting another PhD would be a good idea. His first was in biochemistry and had served him well in his career so far. However, as he delved deeper into his research, he realized that while he had the foundation to understand what went wrong in the brains of people like him, he wasn't as equipped as he wanted to be in how to fix those foundational issues. Hence why he'd been pursing a pharmacology degree for the past several years.
For the most part, it had been smooth sailing. But now, during what should ideally be his last year before finishing the degree, his anxiety took a turn for the worse. Bruce couldn't even figure out why. The workload wasn't much worse than what he'd experienced the past few years, certainly not worse than the last year of his first doctoral program. Betty ensured he ate and slept a healthy amount. Lanyon was thriving. The kid wasn't even two yet and was already proving himself dangerously smart. Everyone else in his family was doing as well as they ever were. Parker had recovered mentally from last month's brush with a norovirus. Still, an impending sense of nebulous doom descended over him.
He picked at the skin around his fingernails until it bled, a completely new habit for him. Bruce would take off his gloves after working in the lab and find several nails coated in a thin layer of blood. Betty took notice of this change immediately. She talked to him every night before bed, both of them attempting to get to the bottom of it. When weeks passed and nothing changed, she told him to go back to regular therapy.
"I don't have time." To make room for even one hour of therapy a week, he'd have to give up an hour of work, time with Lanyon, or sleep. None of those were sacrifices he wanted to make.
"You can always make time for therapy. I'll take over all your grocery shopping."
"That's not fair to you." They always alternated who did the shopping each weekend, because it was a chore neither of them enjoyed.
"Bruce, I don't care about fairness. I care that you're healthy, and if that means double grocery duty, that's totally fine with me."
He relented eventually, of course. Betty rarely lost an argument. He'd seen the same therapist since leaving Gravesen, though their appointments grew few and far between once Lanyon was born. Bruce caught her up on the current goings on of his life, and over the course of the next few weeks they worked to find the cause of his heightened symptoms.
There was no one mystery goings-on that was making him anxious. Turns out, there were lots of little things which, all together, stressed him out more than he consciously acknowledged. The workload of finishing his PhD. Lanyon starting preschool in the fall. Tony walking around with an experimental device in his chest keeping him alive. The two-year anniversary of Steve's death rapidly approaching at the end of the month.
His therapist encouraged him to bring meditation back into his life. That habit, once an integral part of his daily routine, had fallen by the wayside since he became a working professional and a father. It wasn't easy to fit it back into his packed schedule, but once he did, he saw results quickly. Just twenty minutes a day focused on calming his mind left it calmer all the time. Though encouraged, Bruce still wished sometimes that he didn't have to work so hard just to be a functional human being.
~0~
June:
Tony still attended check-ups every three months to assess his health and gather data on the device in his chest. He used to get nervous before these, worried that they'd finally find some flaw in his design, but nowadays he grew excited for the reminder of the miracle he'd accomplished. Sure enough, his doctors were once again pleased to report that everything was functioning perfectly: the device itself, the anti-rejection coating, and the rest of his organ systems. If it continued to perform this well, it could be approved for widespread usage within a year or so. Tony was already putting the foundations in place for Stark Industries to mass produce them as soon as the green light was given.
After his appointment, he called Shuri to report all the good news.
"You know, the organ shortage is one of the greatest healthcare crises in the world. You could win a Nobel prize for this," she said.
Tony laughed. "Very funny. I didn't cure cancer. Or discover a new ion channel. Or prove that mosquitos carry malaria."
"Mosquitos do carry malaria."
"Do you even have malaria in Wakanda?"
Shuri chuckled. "Not anymore."
"You cured it?"
"Well…no. We just drove out the mosquitos."
"Even better. Care to tell us how you did it?"
"The forcefield around Wakanda keeps out more than just colonizers."
"Gotcha, gotcha."
"But I'm serious, you might be in the running. I may or may not know some people on the committee."
"You know a bunch of old white dudes?"
"I'm talking to one right now."
"Ouch. I'm only, what? Eight years older than you?"
"That's fifty-six in dog years."
"So?"
"I have no idea where I was going with that, actually."
"Bye, Shuri."
She hung up on him. Tony put the phone down and sighed. Sure, he trusted Shuri's opinion, but a Nobel Prize? He doubted his invention was of that caliber. That would be amazing if it happened, but Tony didn't dare let his dreams get that big in case they were crushed by some old white dude who discovered a new antibiotic or something.
~0~
July:
After last year's party was replaced with the dedication ceremony at Gravesen, Nick was all the more excited to bring back their Fourth of July traditions. He, Matt, and Dawn went all-out on the decorations and—per Matt's suggestion—doubled the lights. When they finished setting up and called Bucky into the yard to check it out, he confirmed that it looked like a parade crash landed in the yard and promptly exploded.
"That's exactly what we were going for," Nick proclaimed. He was determined to make this occasion as exorbitant as possible. Though he didn't tell anyone else this, his mindset the entire time was to create a party you could see and hear from beyond the grave. Dawn had to stop him from hiring a small brass band to play live music, though she did agree to letting him invest in some high-quality speakers.
The entire invite list said they were coming, even Natasha, Thor, and Kate, who had to make their way from Houston, Norway, and D.C. Natasha actually called him to tell him all about the persuasion techniques she'd needed to wheedle her way into three consecutive days off to fly to New York. Nick suggested she find somewhere else to work if her boss wouldn't grant her time off after not taking a single day since she started working there.
"I'm considering it," she'd said flatly. Nick hugged her extra hard when she arrived at Bucky's house.
"Thanks again for doing this," Bucky told him as the party edged into full swing. "I don't think I'd have it in me to plan it myself."
"You're welcome," Nick said sincerely. "I've always looked forward to this and, even though it's a bit of a different occasion now, I still want to celebrate and remember with all of you."
"Me too."
"Hey Bucky, you want to play a round?"
Nick recognized Steve Danvers' voice from over by the cornhole boards. "Sure!" Bucky called. "Nick, I'm gonna head over—look out!"
Something hit him in the side of the head and nearly knocked his sunglasses off. Nick's hand immediately flew to the spot. "Ouch! What was that?"
"Sorry Uncle Nick!" That was a female toddler's voice—must be Carol May.
"I'm so sorry," Parker repeated. "I thought we were far enough away that we wouldn't hit anyone, but she's got more of an arm than I expected."
Nick chuckled. "It's okay. I'm fine. What hit me?"
"That would be the Freedom Frisbee," Bucky said. He clapped Nick on the shoulder and left to go play cornhole.
Nick turned to face the last direction he'd heard Carol May's voice from. "You do have quite the arm, young lady."
"I'm over here," she said.
"Whoops, sorry." Her little toddler feet were so damn quiet on this grass, he hadn't heard her move.
"Is your head okay?"
"Yeah, it's all better now. Thank you."
"Good."
"Let's find a different game that's not frisbee," Parker suggested.
Nick found his way to one of the lawn chairs and sat down. This was the first Fourth of July to have young children present; they skipped last year and the year before, the babies had been too young. It definitely added another degree of fun—and unexpectedness—to the festivities. Nick could listen to Billy and Tommy babble back and forth in some version of a language that only they understood.
"They're still sorting out English from Sokovian," Wanda explained.
Victor added, "But there's also something in there that's entirely of their own design."
Nick laughed. "Their own secret language, huh?"
"Something like that."
"We've got one of those too, it's called Braille," Matt said. Nick immediately started laughing. "Nick, Natasha's asking for you. Apparently Monica and Maria unearthed some preteen Carol photos. They're losing their minds over there."
"Okay." Photos didn't mean much to Nick, but presumably Natasha was going to describe them to him. He followed the sound of laughter. She intercepted him on his way over. "Two words: Britney Spears."
Nick took those words and applied them to his memory of Carol's face. The result was beyond comical. "That's all I need to hear."
~0~
August:
Just Bucky's luck, Walker's wedding happened to be the exact same day as the twins' first birthday party. When Wanda told him the date, he wanted to growl in frustration. Bucky would much rather spend a Sunday with his family celebrating their kids' birthday than with the soccer team celebrating the union of John Walker and the love of his life. Not that he didn't enjoy spending time with the soccer team, but he dreaded having to endure all the fuss of a wedding. He almost considered flaking on the wedding without even telling John and going to the party instead, but his integrity wouldn't allow him to. Instead, he politely told Wanda that he had a prior commitment and asked for the videos of the boys trying cake for the first time. She told him to have fun at the wedding.
Bucky already knew that was an impossible ask.
He hated every second of getting dressed up, and hated every second of the drive up there with Josiah. He hated seeing Lemar, Hector, and Jerome in their groomsman outfits. He hated overhearing all the conversations of overexcited family members. He hated listening to Walker and Olivia's vows. He hated watching them kiss happily, not a care in the world but each other. He hated that the only person here who seemed to have any concept of how fucking hard this was for him was Josiah. He hated that he wasn't with his family when he was texted a picture of Billy and Tommy, the former perfectly clean but for some frosting on his hands and the latter completely covered in cake debris.
He plastered on a smile to congratulate Walker when he walked up to greet him. "Thanks for coming, man," he said genuinely.
"No problem," Bucky said, even though it was actually many, many problems. The amount of willpower he was exerting right now not to run to the bathroom and start crying was immense. "Congratulations."
Walker's grin immediately widened and his eyes got all daydreamy. "Thanks. We kept the engagement long because we didn't want to rush into anything, but I'm really glad that we finally tied the knot."
Not everyone has that luxury.
Bucky managed to stick around for an hour and a half of the reception. In that time, both of Walker's grandmas encountered him and, independently of each other, told him to, "Smile! You look like you're at a funeral, not a wedding." The second time he heard that was what did him in. Yes, this was a wedding, a reminder of everything he once had that had been taken away by the last funeral he attended.
Fighting back tears, Bucky wove his way through the crowd looking for Josiah. He pulled him off of the dance floor and whispered urgently, "Can we go home please?"
Josiah looked for half a second like he was going to argue, but then he made eye contact. He must've seen the thin sheen of tears clinging desperately to Bucky's eyeballs. "Yeah, okay, okay. We can go." He passed Bucky the car keys. "You can wait in the car. I'm going to say goodbye to John and Olivia, but I'll be there in ten minutes, tops."
"Thank you."
Josiah was true to his word, arriving at the car in seven and a half minutes. Bucky sobbed the entire drive home.
~0~
September:
In the southern hemisphere, winter was just turning to spring. Meaning, the water was still freezing, but the air was pleasant enough. Thor didn't have any classes to teach today, so he took advantage of the free time to catch some waves of his own. Korg didn't like the water as much as Valkyrie had, so he stayed in the shallows to watch. Thor made sure to check in with him every half an hour or so.
This early in the morning, there weren't many other people on the beach. Just a few other avid surfers wanting to evade the crowds just like him. The waves were pretty average, nothing spectacular but nothing particularly boring. Thor caught seven or eight solid ones during his first hour out there. Currently, the water remained flat and placid, an unusually long lull for this area. He scanned the horizon looking for any swells of water, but there was nothing.
And then, instantaneously, there was a massive wave directly on top of him. Thor had no time to react and it smacked into him full force, pulling him under. Goddammit, he must've had an absence and missed the formation. He swam to the surface and broke through, only to hear Korg barking ferociously from the shore. The dog was up to his shoulders in water, much farther than he was normally willing to go. Thor started paddling just as a massive dark shadow obscured the left side of his vision. Never before had he experienced an aura quite like it.
The shadow swallowed up the rest of his vision, and his consciousness winked out with it.
~0~
He woke up to Korg gently licking his face. Once his vision came into focus, he noticed the three other people standing over him. They must've been the other surfers nearby. "You all right, mate?" one of them asked.
"Yeah." Thor ran his tongue over the inside of his cheeks to check for bites. Luckily, he seemed to have escaped unscathed from that. "What happ'ned?" he asked.
"You passed out, mate. Your dog dragged you out of the water shaking."
Another one of the men continued, "We called triple o before we saw your bracelet, so there's an ambulance coming anyway."
"'M fine." He gingerly pushed himself to sit up, holding on to Korg for balance. The dog's fur was soaking wet, and he smelled potently of wet dog. According to the witnesses, he charged into the water to drag Thor out. "Good boy," he told Korg, nearly in tears. He could've easily drowned. Even wearing a life jacket, during a seizure his face could drop underwater. Last time he seized while surfing, Korg alerted when he stopped in on shore and he laid down on the beach to let it pass. This time, it must've come on too fast for Korg to sense it.
"Good thing he knows what to do," the man said, pointing to Korg. We were too far away to help. By the time I got over here, he'd already got you out."
"He's a ser-vice dog." Thor didn't put his vest on him at the beach.
"Oh, cool. Is he trained to do that?"
"No."
"Even cooler," the other dude said.
His family was never going to hear the end of this story.
~0~
October:
"Hey MJ, dinner's almost on the table," Parker called. She'd told him that morning that she'd be late coming home from work, so he was in charge of cooking. Carol May sat on the kitchen floor, happily pulling the kid-safe dishes from the bottom cabinet out and putting them back. He reminded himself to wash them all before serving food on them again.
She walked into the kitchen and sat down in her usual seat. "I'm pregnant," she said.
Parker dropped the plate he was about to fill with baked chicken. Luckily, it was plastic. He turned around to face her. "What?"
"You heard me."
"When did you find this out?"
"I went to the doctor after work. That's why I was late."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want to get your hopes up before I was sure."
Now that he knew this, Parker's hopes were definitely up. But MJ didn't seem particularly excited by this news. "How do you feel about it?" he asked.
"I don't know yet. I like the idea of another kid, but not of being pregnant again."
Parker nodded. The last pregnancy had been unimaginably stressful, a terrifying balance between begging the baby to come sooner so she could meet Steve while simultaneously wanting her to stay inside long enough to develop fully and give them time to prepare for her living in the outside world. They were preparing to be new parents and new grievers all at once, and it had taxed both of them more than any of their friends or family knew. Even though she never told him explicitly, Parker knew MJ shouldered a lot of that burden herself because it was her body in control of this timeline. Whatever she wanted to do this time, he would agree without hesitation.
"What do you think?" she asked him.
"Me?"
"Why not you? You're the father, you get a say."
"I agree with you. I like the idea of another kid—heck, I love it. But I don't want you to endure anything you don't want to."
"A-nother kid?" Carol May repeated, suddenly invested in the conversation. Parker had forgotten she was even there.
"Yeah," MJ said. "What do you think about having a baby sibling?"
"I want one!"
"That's as confident a vote as I've ever heard," Parker said.
"Yeah, it is. I think you'd be a great big sister, Carol May."
Parker had already seen how great she was with Lanyon and the twins. He knew she'd love a sibling as much as he and MJ would love a child.
"Yay! Big sister!"
Carol May ran up to MJ and clambered into her lap for a hug. MJ said confidently, "This time next year, you'll be one." That was a resounding yes if Parker ever heard one.
~0~
November:
She'd had enough. Natasha wanted off the day before Thanksgiving so she could fly back to New York to celebrate with her friends. While her superior didn't outright refuse to grant it, she made it sound like Natasha was inconveniencing the hospital—even disregarding her own patients—by doing so. After that testing day, she spent two hours at the gym. Once she'd sweat out her frustrations, she checked her phone to find a text from Kate. Her colleague was offered another position, one which he planned to take. Meaning that the Triskelion was hiring. Natasha leapt on the opportunity to get out of this place.
Having an in (Kate) who knew so much about the hospital and how it operated proved to be extremely beneficial in an interview process. Of course, she didn't let on that her close friend already worked there in case they worried about her and Kate slacking off on the job to socialize. The man interviewing her was definitely impressed, and she was offered the position two days later.
"You got the job," Kate guessed as soon as she opened the FaceTime request and saw Natasha' face.
"How did you know?"
"I can see it in your eyes."
Natasha frowned at her.
"My boss told me they filled the vacancy, and I knew it had to be you."
"That makes more sense. I'm so excited! We're going to be colleagues."
"Yeah! I can't wait to have you here! The other nurses are great, but they're not you."
"I'm glad I'll be closer to family."
"D.C. is closer to Russia than Houston. Or is it? Wait, which side of Russia are you from?"
"I meant our family. They're all east coasters."
"I'm pretty sure Bruce is originally from Ohio. And Tony also has a house in California."
"Whatever. Have you ever even been to Tony's beach house?"
"Not that he knows of," she said mysteriously.
"Oh yeah." There was one time during the Paralympics in LA that they ditched Steve long enough to catch an Uber to Malibu to see the house. Picking the lock on the shed of beach supplies was easy enough, and they had quite the afternoon attempting to teach themselves to surf. "Is there anything fun to do in D.C.?"
"It's the national capital. It's all museums and buildings where government big wigs do their jobs."
"I'm sure there's more than that."
"You're going to love working here so much that you'd rather be here than anywhere else in the city."
Natasha hoped Kate's words rang true.
~0~
December:
Names had always meant a lot to Parker. His own name journey was proof of that. Parker Benjamin Weaver was in itself the legacy of the many people who loved him throughout his life. Daddell surrendered his own surname when he married Dad, because the bio parents from which he inherited it abandoned him and he wasn't so lucky as Parker to be adopted and given a new name to cherish. Instead, he found his own family in Alex Weaver and took the name to prove it. Uncle Ben sacrificed his life so that his nephew would survive, pushing him out of the way of the armed assailant on that fateful day in the grocery store. It was a great honor to bear his name. And finally, Parker, the name shared by him, his first parents, and his second parents. The name he chose to keep over Peter because of that connection. Parker wanted his children to have equally meaningful names.
Carol May's name was easy to choose. It appeared in his mind as soon as he learned that the black-and-white blob on the screen was a little girl, his little girl. May, for the aunt who raised him like a son, and Carol for the girl who loved him like a brother. Both gone too soon, but both of their memories preserved in this little girl who proved every day that she embodied the best of both her namesakes. At first, he and MJ had planned to just call her Carol, but the first time he held her in his arms and put that beautiful name to a beautiful face, he knew that he'd never be able to say less than the whole thing. Carol May.
This second child was a boy, they learned last week. Parker didn't need to think about it long before he devised a name as meaningful as Carol May. Half for the parent who selflessly took him in as a child with nowhere else to go, and half for the friend who inspired Parker to lead a life of determination and kindness above all else. Benjamin Steven Weaver. It even had a nice ring to it.
"MJ," he whispered into the darkness. The restless sleep phase of pregnancy had kicked in, same as it had with Carol May at this stage. Instead of curled up around him like they usually preferred to sleep, she turned on her other side with an extra pillow between her knees.
"What?"
"Have…have you thought about names yet?" He wasn't sure if she had any ideas of her own, and he didn't want to propose his as if it was the only option he'd ever consider.
"Yeah."
"What are you thinking?"
"Elbridge Gerry Weaver."
Parker probably shook the bed with the suddenness and force of his laughter. "Who is that?"
"An old Vice President, I think. I only remember his name from history class because I thought it was absolutely ridiculous. Don't worry, I would never name our son after the guy who invented gerrymandering."
"Did he really?"
"I don't know. It is named after him, though."
"Interesting. But seriously, are there any names you're seriously considering?"
Parker counted four of her breaths before MJ answered. "I've been thinking about how happy Carol May's name makes you—how happy it makes our whole family. And I think I want our son to have a name that does the same thing."
"Are you serious?" Both of them rolled over to face each other. Parker couldn't see her face very well in the dark, but he detected nothing but sincerity in her voice when she said, "Absolutely. Now, what do you want to call him?"
"How do you know I have a name prepared?"
"I know you, Parker. You wouldn't have asked me about it if you didn't have one."
Of course, she knew him too darn well. "You scare me sometimes," he remarked.
"That's my job as your wife." She poked him teasingly in the chest. "Now tell me the name."
"Okay, okay. I was thinking…Benjamin Steven."
Parker didn't count any breaths for a solid five seconds. When MJ finally exhaled again, it was accompanied by a hushed "Whoa."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I just…I can feel how strong that name is just in the way you said it. And I was picturing Bucky's face when you tell him about it."
"I have to ask his permission before we actually go through with this. Do you think he'll say yes?"
"Yes," MJ said, so quickly she practically interrupted him. "Parker, I'll bet, to Steve, this is a higher honor than them naming that Gravesen ward after him."
"You really think so?"
"Absolutely. And I think Bucky knows that too, and is going to weep tears of joy all over your shirt when you tell him we're naming our son after Steve."
"I hope you're right."
She flipped back over and resettled into a comfortable position before grumbling, "I'm always right."
Parker couldn't argue with that.