Chapter 23: Barnes and Rogers, the Book Release

That Christmas, they received the most beautiful holiday card from Mr. and Mrs. Weaver. Just seeing those names written out made him inordinately happy. The card contained several stunning pictures from their honeymoon in Prague.

"Why don't we do holiday cards?" Bucky asked.

"And give our friends more evidence that we're hopelessly sappy? I don't think so."

Bucky waved the card in front of Steve's face. "This isn't sappy. This is romantic and beautiful."

"It's impossible for Parker and MJ to be anything else."

"Why is it sappy when we do it?"

"We've never done it. But if we did, I'll bet you it would turn out sappy."

"You just hate having your picture taken."

Steve didn't immediately retort, and Bucky knew he'd hit the nail on the head. "You could have just said so," Bucky huffed.

"I just don't want to stress about 'making sure we have a good holiday photo for this year.' Christmas already comes with a long to-do list."

"Okay."

Among that to-do list must've been picking out Bucky's gift, because Steve chose perfectly once again. He got him a custom mug with Barnes and Rogers on it, their characters which would soon see the light when the book got published. By then, they were just waiting on logistical things. In return, Bucky got Steve a set of three customized baseball caps. He always wore the same two, a plain Navy one and the LXV one with the rose. The first was a Los Angeles Dodgers hat, which Steve said he'd never be caught dead wearing in front of their friends, although he put it on as soon as he opened it and didn't take it off until dinner. The second was black with the pediatric cancer slogan "More Than 4%" embroidered in gold, and the third bore the Harley-Davidson logo.

Once they packed up the decorations for the season, it was countdown to book release time. Bucky started advertising on the Amputeam page, and their followers' reactions to the news were beyond excited. The preorder list grew exponentially over the course of the next few weeks. Their friends' reactions were even better. The group chat quite literally exploded after they dropped the pre-order link with no additional context.

Parker: You wrote a book?! That's literally the coolest thing ever!

Natasha: Why didn't you tell us sooner?

Bruce: Congratulations! It's not easy to become a published author

Wanda: The art style is so cute! Steve, you've outdone yourself

Nick: I expect you to invite us all over for story time

Monica: How did I end up friends with the coolest people in the world

Tony: As friends of the original Barnes and Rogers, do we get premiere access?

Thor: Am I in it?

Bucky: Yes, you're all getting copies

Steve: But if you want them autographed it's gonna cost you

On a Tuesday in mid-January, Barnes and Rogers hit the shelves. Bucky and Steve finally got to hold in their hands a physical representation of all the hard work they'd poured into this project over the past two years. The reviews poured in, all overwhelmingly positive and heralding this book as the new standard for inclusive children's literature. However, Bucky didn't care what the adult critics had to say so much as the target audience and their parents. He wasn't disappointed. Amputeam's Instagram flooded with people tagging them in videos of kids reacting to seeing characters that looked like them. Bucky never tired of them, no matter how many he watched.

The plot would've gotten too busy if they met everybody within the context of the story, but Steve illustrated all of their friends into the two-page party scene spread at the end of the book, and the end included a glossary of sorts, with a separate drawing of each character with a disease or disability and a little verse explaining it. Gravesen sent Steve a picture of the bookshelf in the common room, now including multiple copies of Barnes and Rogers. Bucky considered creating this book his proudest accomplishment, far greater than any of his soccer victories.

~0~

"I'm serious, Steve, what would they do?" Bucky asked. The two were driving to Gravesen to give away signed books to the kids receiving treatment there.

"If you want to know so badly, step on the gas until you get pulled over, and then smack talk the cop," Steve suggested. Bucky glanced over to the passenger seat long enough to see he was scrolling through WHiH headlines on his phone, barely paying attention to Bucky's query.

"Do people really get arrested for that?"

"I don't know. I've never been arrested before."

"Shocker."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked defensively.

"You're Steve effing Rogers. What could you possibly do to get arrested?"

"I'll have you know that I literally committed assault in kindergarten. But you took the blame for that one."

"Punching a kid on the playground is not the same as committing assault. Besides, I remember six-year-old Steve pretty well, and getting punched by him probably registers on the pain scale somewhere around mosquito bite."

That might be true, but getting punched by this Steve definitely hurt. Although, he held back because Bucky was driving. "Ouch," Bucky muttered. "But you still haven't answered my initial question: if I got arrested, how would they handcuff me?"

"I don't know. Maybe they'd clip the other one to your belt loop or something."

"What if I wasn't wearing pants with belt loops?"

"Then they'd just hold it like a leash."

Bucky laughed. "Are you serious?"

"No. Nothing about this conversation is serious."

"I should ask Lemar. He hangs around Walker all the time, so he's probably been arrested before, right?"

"I don't know. And I feel like that's a rude question to ask him."

"Nah, he'd be cool about it. Walker, though, Walker would probably hit me."

"Hit him back," Steve deadpanned.

"Oh, I have. He's a wuss when it comes down to it."

Steve chuffed. "Do you have a favorite teammate? Besides Josiah obviously."

"Steve, that's like asking me to pick a favorite child."

"So do it."

"Pinky's pretty cool. He reminds me of Timmy in some ways. Hector and Jerome are weirdly obsessed with Walker, so it's definitely not them—don't breathe a word of this to anybody, by the way, this conversation is strictly confidential—and Jack is crazy competitive. I get along really well with Jacques, even though he's always yelling things in French and I can't understand a word. Maybe I should record him and have Gabe translate."

"Something tells me you probably won't like what you hear."

"You think he's talking shit about me?"

"I don't know, but he could be."

"Jacques would never."

"If you say so."

"Do you have a favorite coworker?" Bucky asked in return.

"No. They're all equally amazing."

"I'll bet if I were to ask any of them that same question, they'd probably say you."

"I doubt that."

"Why are you so full of self doubt? You're a very likeable person."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Is that how you're gonna react if one of these kids tell you you're awesome? What kind of example would you be setting?"

"You make a good point."

"Yes I do."

Bucky was glad to be at Gravesen for a reason other than an oncology check-up. He'd much rather sign books than get blood drawn and pee in a cup. "Pens are much preferable to needles," he told Steve.

"Absolutely. What colors did you bring?"

"Three black and one blue one. That's all I could find."

"We should buy more pens to keep in the house then."

"Yes, we should."

Bucky's favorite parking spot was empty. He whooped with joy and brought the car to a stop. Steve grabbed the two bags full of books from the back seat and followed Bucky to the entrance and from there up to the pediatric residential ward. The place looked just as Bucky remembered it. Sharon met them at the central nursing desk and showed them to the table set up in the common room. As always, Bucky's eyes fell first to the ever-expanding gauntlet on the wall. He wandered over to look at the first names on the chart, which included him and Steve. Bucky had taken back all six aspects, but Steve was still left without time or reality. Still, a reality with illness was still one worth living in, especially when it led to opportunities like this one.

Bucky helped Steve arrange a stack of books on one side of the table. Since Steve was a more familiar face, given the videos, they agreed he could sign first before passing the book to Bucky. His excitement only grew as he saw little faces peering in the windows. Once the kids and their parents started filtering in, Bucky didn't think he once stopped smiling.

Most of them were incredibly shy, but Steve always managed to get at least a smile out of even the most reserved. As Bucky already knew, he was really fucking good at his job. His hat slipped lower on his forehead, so he reached up to readjust it. Steve had let Bucky borrow the one that said More than 4%, while he wore his LXV one. Some of the kids with cancer complimented him on it.

"I watched you in the World Cup," one little girl told him. Bucky's heart swelled with pride.

"Thank you. Do you like watching soccer?"

She nodded. "You're really good."

"That's very kind of you. I worked really hard."

"I'm gonna work hard too."

Bucky smiled as he handed her the book. "I bet you will. Good luck."

"Thanks."

They stayed for three hours, and before they left signed the rest of the books to leave behind for any kids who couldn't make it, or any who were admitted in the next days or weeks. Bucky had never left a place with such a sense of fulfillment. Was this how Steve felt after work every day? If that was the case, Bucky ought to consider a change of careers. He didn't plan on retiring from soccer soon, but he would need something to do in the later years of his life.

They picked up dinner on the way home, and Steve claimed the rights to the first shower. Bucky resigned himself to a long wait. He decided to attempt to massage the prickling ache out of his stump. In the early weeks of his recovery after amputation, they'd told him to do this often to help desensitize the nerve endings, and it worked at first. But lately it was as if they'd become re-sensitized. Today's adventure had left him with lightning bolts of phantom pain ricocheting up and down his arm. Bucky thought this might help, but regretted his decision as soon as his hand made contact with his shoulder. It only made the bolts burn hotter. He abandoned that idea and instead flipped on ESPN.

Steve finished showering quicker than he expected, so Bucky took his turn. The hot water didn't help the pain either, so he took an Advil that he knew would do nothing and headed back to the living room. Steve sat in the corner of the couch, flipping through the pages of their book with a pensive look on his face.

"What'cha doing?" Bucky asked.

"Just reading. And thinking."

"About what?"

"About what it would be like to read this book to a kid," Steve said. "To…our kid."

"What?" The phrase "our kid" had never once been uttered in the Barnes-Rogers household because it didn't apply to any real person. Not once had they ever discussed this, nor so much as mentioned it as a possibility. As two men, there was no chance of it happening accidentally. "Our kid" would only exist if they planned for it to happen. Which they hadn't.

"You heard me."

Bucky sat down on the sofa beside him. He gently removed the book from Steve's grasp and replaced it with his own hand. "Steve, is this…is this something you've been thinking about? Something you want?" The territory was so unfamiliar to Bucky that he struggled to string words together.

Steve shrugged. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do."

He let out the most put-upon sigh Bucky had ever heard. "Yeah, I've thought about it before, especially today since we spent most of it hanging out with kids. But we've never talked about it before and I assumed that meant it was out of the question."

"Nothing is out of the question if it's something you want. There are certainly a lot of logistics to consider with some things, but I will never shut you down without first hearing you out. Never." That much he could say with confidence.

"Okay. Is this something you've ever thought about?" Steve asked, blue eyes shining.

"Not really. To be honest, the concept terrifies me."

"The concept of raising a kid?"

"Yeah. That, and, if said kid is genetically related to me, worrying about me having some predisposition that I could pass on. They still don't understand why pediatric cancer happens, and if it turns out to be inheritable? I'd never forgive myself."

"Yeah, I totally get that. I feel the same way, but for me at least there's genetic testing that could guarantee a lack of CF. As long as my…as long as the egg…is not from a carrier of mutated CF genes, the baby would be fine as far as that goes. But if I wanted that I'd have to have the surgery, and I just…I don't know if I want it that badly."

Steve had explained that to him back in high school, and again after they started dating. No vas deferens meant no sperm released "the normal way," as he'd put it. To get any, they'd have to go straight into the testicle. Bucky completely understood why that could be a dealbreaker. He had no way of knowing, but he figured it might hurt just as much as his amputation had. "Totally understandable. What about adopting?"

"Yeah, I've thought about it. But that comes with its own slew of considerations. And for both options, the reality is that I don't know how long I'm even going to be around to raise a kid. I'd hate for them to one day lose one of their fathers."

Bucky's heart broke. In some other universe, one where Steve had been born healthy, he would've made an incredible father. He already proved every day at work how great he was with kids, and there he helped children through some of the most terrifying things they could ever face. Raising his own child would probably be downright easy.

"While I'd love to have a miniature Steve running around this house." Bucky moved his hand up Steve's arm to his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. "I am perfectly happy for our family to just be us two."

"Yeah, you're right. I think I'd rather settle for one day being an uncle."

"But we don't have any siblings."

"You don't think that if Tony or Parker or any of the Avengers have a kid, that kid won't call us uncle? Because you know they will."

"Uncle Bucky. You know, I actually like how that sounds."

"Uncle Bucky and Uncle Steve. If we ever become uncles, we will be the most fun uncles that any kid has ever had."

"You bet."