This is the last chapter. I know you already know how it ends, but I still thought it appropriate to place a warning for major character death. Knowing it happens and seeing it played out are two very different things.

Chapter 43: The Trunk and the Flower

Steve slept right up until Peggy arrived for his morning routine. "How's the baby?" were the first words out of his mouth.

"I haven't heard beyond last night's announcement. I'm sure they'll let us know when they leave the hospital."

Steve hummed in acknowledgement. After Peggy finished, he returned to dozing. Bucky followed her onto the porch as she left and asked gravely, "How long?"

She pursed her lips and tilted her head solemnly. "I don't know. Maybe a day or two more. His breath sounds are…not promising."

"Is there anything we can do?"

Peggy gazed toward the house. "Hope he meets that baby today." With that, she left. Bucky watched her go as desperation, hope, love, and grief fought for dominance within him. He headed back inside and sat in the living room. The antique clock on the wall ticked ever onward. Bucky would have smashed the damn thing years ago if Steve didn't love it dearly. He despised the ticking.

His phone ringing forced him off the couch. Once he saw who it was, he picked up eagerly and headed into Steve's room to wake him. "MJ?"

"Hey Bucky." She sounded exhausted but happy. Bucky figured that was typical of new mothers. "We're on our way to your place."

"What? All three of you?"

"No. We left the baby alone," she said. The sarcasm was like a slap in the face. Her tone turned once again sincere. "We should be there in about two hours."

"That's amazing. I'll leave the front door open."

"Okay. See you soon."

"See you soon."

Steve's eyes widened in anticipation as Bucky put the phone down. "The Weavers will be here in two hours," he announced.

"Really?" he rasped.

"Really," Bucky confirmed. Steve's grin mirrored his own. "You're gonna meet that baby."

~0~

An hour and fifty minutes later, Bucky helped Steve move to sit up on the living room sofa. "I don't want to hold her in the same place I'm going to die," he insisted. Bucky piled up some pillows to help support the infant, since six and a half pounds was definitely more than Steve could handle in this state. The front door opened just as Bucky got him settled. MJ entered first, followed by Parker carrying the car seat. Carol May gazed up at him with Parker's eyes, then began to fuss. MJ picked her up and attempted to soothe her. Parker and Bucky exchanged a glance which spoke of both the momentousness and the tragedy of this occasion.

Together, the four of them walked into the living room. The joy in Steve's eyes was instantaneous when his gaze fell on the baby. She still wasn't full-out crying, but sounded like she might any second. "I just fed her before we walked in here," MJ explained. "And she slept most of the ride here."

In other words, all three Weavers tried their darndest to make this the best experience possible for Steve.

"Are you ready?" MJ asked earnestly.

Steve nodded more strongly than Bucky had seen in weeks. As she approached with the baby, Steve reached up to remove his oxygen tubing.

"Hey," Bucky warned. He hadn't been able to go more than a few minutes without it since April.

"I want…her to see…my face," he explained. Bucky relented. Steve positioned his arms on the pillows and Bucky watched the relief, the pride, and the excitement rush through his expression all at once as MJ handed him the squirming bundle. Carol May's fussiness dissipated instantly, and she locked eyes with Steve. MJ stepped back to snap a photo, but Steve didn't notice. He was too focused on the baby. Steve reached out to her, and she locked a tiny hand around his finger. "Hi there," he said.

Shockingly, MJ was the first among them to actually shed a tear. Parker followed, but his came accompanied with a stricken cry. He tore out of the room and out of the house, the front door slamming behind him.

Bucky stood there, frozen and in shock. They couldn't let Parker go alone, certainly not like that, but MJ couldn't leave the baby and Bucky was reluctant to leave Steve.

"Go," MJ told him, so commandingly he abandoned all his reservations. He nodded, glanced once more to Steve, then ran after Parker. He found him leaning on the railing of the far end of the wraparound porch, sobbing. Bucky slowly approached and laid a hand on his quivering shoulders. "It's okay," he said soothingly.

"No!" Parker retorted. His anger was more potent than anything Bucky had ever seen from the normally good-humored man. "Nothing about this is okay!"

Bucky bit his lip and backtracked, "I only meant it's okay to cry."

Parker loosened his grip on the railing and heaved a shuddering sigh. "She won't remember this," he croaked. "She won't remember him, and she's going to grow up without an uncle…just like I did." On that last statement, his face broke and the sobs returned.

Bucky kept his hand reassuringly on Parker's back as he continued to cry. "I know," he said. "And that sucks." He took a deep breath contemplating just how much it sucked. "However—you know who will remember this? Remember Steve? You will. And I will. And MJ will. And Tony, and Bruce, and Nat, and Thor, and Wanda, and everyone who loves him. Carol May will grow up without an Uncle Steve, but she has two amazing parents, four incredible grandparents, and more aunts and uncles than she'll even want at Thanksgiving dinner. She may not remember Steve, but all those people? They'll make sure she knows him."

Bucky didn't understand how that speech came together as well as it did. He'd been thinking about this a lot, ever since the announcement, how this next generation of the Avengers would never know these people so important to their parents and family. Carol. Pietra. Clint. Steve. The promise of perpetuating their memories was his only consolation.

"Did you rehearse that?" Parker asked with the barest hint of a laugh.

"Nope," Bucky said proudly.

"Steve's really rubbed off on you, huh?"

"Five years of marriage will do that."

Parker ran his hands over his face in exhaustion. "I just…I don't think I can do this again." The tears returned, this time without the accompanying full-body sobs. They dripped silently down his face, little bullets right to Bucky's heart. This kid deserved the world, but all the world offered him was loss after devastating loss.

"You can," Bucky told him. "You shouldn't have to, but you can. Do it for Carol. Both of them."

Parker sniffled and attempted to dry his face. "God, how are you so…alright? If I was in your place, I'd be…well, worse than I already am." He gestured to his red, blotchy face with trembling hands.

Bucky shook his head. "Parker, I'm not alright. I am so far from alright that I can't even see it anymore. This moment you're having is nothing compared to some I've had and some I know I will have in the near future. But I'm pulling myself together for Steve, and for you, and I know you'll be able to do the same."

"But what if I can't?"

"Then we'll help you. Parker, there are too many people in this world who love you for you to ever find yourself floundering alone. We're in this together."

Without preamble, Parker wrapped his arms around Bucky in a spine-cracking hug. Bucky returned the favor, letting Parker continue to cry into his shoulder until the tears slowed to a stop.

~0~

When Parker ran out, the wave of guilt threatened to drown him. Steve hated that he was the reason the birth of Parker's first child was anything but a purely joyful occasion. He hated to be one more name in the poor kid's long list of lost loved ones. But there was nothing Steve could do about it, except trust that Parker's family would take care of him.

His gaze drifted back to the baby in his arms. Carol May Weaver. Parker and MJ couldn't have chosen a more beautiful, meaningful name. All he'd ever wanted since he learned of this baby's soon-to-be-existence was to hold her. Parker's child. Named after the girl who'd made such an incredible impact on both their lives, and the lives of everyone in their vast, extended pseudo-family. Now that she was here in his arms, he didn't quite know what to do. He wanted to speak to her, but knew his lungs wouldn't afford him more than two or three words. So, he settled for thinking everything he wanted to say and hoping this beautiful baby understood.

"Hi Carol May." That much he said aloud. Just saying her name washed away some of his pain and exhaustion. He continued silently, "I'm your Uncle Steve. Not really your dad's brother, but as good as. Maybe better. Listen, I'm…not going to be around to see you grow up. This right here is the only time you're ever going to see my face except in photos. I know you're way too young to remember, but this moment is more for me than for you I suppose. I really wanted to meet the tiny human that my good friend had a hand in creating, and who bears the name of another good friend." Carol probably would have scoffed at Parker naming his kid after her, but also been secretly moved.

"I'm, uh…I'm going to go see her soon. I wish I could stick around longer, but life isn't always fair…or long. But I hope your life is as much of both as possible. I might not be there, but you have two unbelievably amazing parents who are gonna love you to absolute pieces. You've also got an Uncle Tony, who I know is going to be so infatuated with you that he might just snatch you away to raise you himself. I'm just kidding; he would never do that, but he might think about it, or say it as a joke. He'll probably give you a nickname or two. He also happens to be rich, but not the snobby kind. He'll spend quality time with you and buy you expensive presents, which will piss your parents off, but they won't mind as much when they see the smile on your face. There's Bruce, who gives really great advice, even if he insists he's not wise like that. Natasha, or Auntie Nat—that's what she said she wants to be called—will tell you all the things your mother says you're too young to know. Wanda will introduce you to all the best old TV shows, and Nick will accidentally teach you all the words your parents refuse to say around you. Maria and Monica and Steve can tell you all about your namesake. They knew her even before your dad did, isn't that crazy? Thor isn't around often because he's too busy adventuring, but when he is, you'll know, and you'll love every second of it.

"And Bucky…God, you're the luckiest kid in the world. Your Uncle Bucky will love you like no one's ever loved you before. He'll tell you the best jokes—and some of the worst, but he'll manage to make them funny anyway. He'll teach you to play soccer, and no matter how good or bad you are he'll compliment you just to make you feel good about yourself. But if you are genuinely good and you enjoy it, he'll be there at all your games cheering louder than anyone else. He'll talk about his teammates like they're his brothers and like they're a pack of rambunctious dogs all in the same sentence. And…I hope…he'll tell you about me. He can tell you more than anyone else because we've known each other since we were not much older than you. Hopefully, he'll tell you stories and show you pictures so I can still be a part of your life, even if I can't be there for real. That's all I want. To be a part of the remarkable life you're going to lead.

"I do have one favor to ask of you, though. It's a job only you can do, little one. Our story, the story of this family, hinges on this moment right here: the beginning of your life, and the end of mine. The latter is…going to bring a lot of sorrow to a lot of people. So I need you to bring the joy. As much of it as you possibly can. I tried my best to be the trunk of this tree, but you, Carol May, will be the flower."

His lungs burned with a need more desperate than he'd ever felt before. He looked to MJ and nodded when she asked to take the baby. Steve handed her off and replaced his oxygen cannula, sucking hungrily at the concentrated air.

"Your lips were moving," MJ remarked. "Did you say everything you needed to say?"

Steve nodded.

"Good."

It took a few minutes, but his level of breathlessness returned to standard and the haze receded from the edges of his vision. His hunger for air hadn't been properly sated in at least a month, but he'd take what he could get. Bucky and Parker returned from outside, Parker's eyes red and puffy. Carol May began to fuss again in MJ's arms, and she looked to Parker with an expression that silently announced, "We need to go."

Steve didn't want them to. For the past half a year, he'd done little but wait for this moment. And now it was over. It was all over. He had no disillusions about his future; Steve knew how little time he had left, had thought he'd come to terms with it. Now that it was upon him, he realized how unprepared he actually was.

Parker took one step towards the door before the realization dawned on him that this was the last he'd ever see of Steve. MJ told him to take as much time as he needed before she took Carol May, now full-on crying, outside. Parker looked like he'd just been asked to list his every memory in chronological order.

"Look at me," Steve ordered with as much conviction as his feeble voice could create. "You'll be okay."

"That's exactly what Carol said."

"She was right."

Parker nodded grimly. "Can…can I hug you?"

Steve nodded. He tried to give Parker the best last hug possible. "Thank you," Parker muttered into his ear. "For showing me the way."

By the time they pulled out of the hug, fresh tears adorned both their faces. Bucky walked Parker to the door and when he returned alone, Steve had mostly pulled himself together. With just the two of them here, he couldn't let it all go. He couldn't make Bucky be here for him when there was no one else to be here for Bucky.

They sat together in silence until Peggy arrived for her evening visit. She knew without having to ask what had transpired earlier that day. Bucky disappeared into his bedroom while Peggy helped Steve move back to his room. Once he settled in, he gazed back at the door, Carol May's visit already taking on the nostalgic tint of a memory. He noticed an added frown line between Peggy's brows as she took his vitals and jotted down numbers.

"How long?" he asked her.

She squeezed his hand as she replied, "Only as long as you want."

He wanted another half a century, or at least ten years, but he knew that's not what she meant. "Only as long as you want" meant he could hang on a bit longer…or not. Steve considered this for a moment. Then he made up his mind.

~0~

Bucky didn't think Steve would have anything left to give. After the Weavers left, he fell asleep and Bucky crawled into the bed beside him and moved so Steve's head rested on his chest, fearing he'd never wake up. He texted Peggy and told her not to come tomorrow. He listened and tried to feel any sort of change in Steve's labored breathing, but there was none. At four in the morning, he awoke, much to Bucky's surprise and relief, and his eyes were brighter than Bucky had ever seen.

"I didn't think you were going to wake up," Bucky said honestly.

"Wanted to see you," Steve replied, and nuzzled into his chest. Bucky adjusted their position just enough so that, if Steve looked up, they could see each other's eyes. It brought the biggest smile to his thin face. They sat there, just looking at each other, for a very long time before Steve mumbled, "I'm tired."

Bucky hugged him tight. "I know. It's been a long fight." He felt Steve's head nod against him. Bucky closed his eyes. If he tightened his hold any, he might snap all of Steve's ribs. He recalled another moment much like this one. Thinking of the endless string of battles Steve had valiantly endured, and all the fellow soldiers he'd lost along the way. Bucky repeated the same words he'd said all those years ago. "It's okay if you're ready to go."

Steve nodded again. Bucky released him, and he clawed at his oxygen cannula until the tubing came off his face. He watched Steve's eyelids begin to droop. When it was clear he'd fallen asleep, Bucky briefly stepped out and called his mom to warn her, "It's going to be today." By the time he got off the phone, he had tears in his eyes, but he knew what he had to do. He crawled into bed behind Steve and rested his husband's head against his own chest, where he'd asked to be in his last moments on Earth. Steve didn't stir. Bucky took a deep breath and braced himself for the worst moment of his life.

It took longer than he thought. Steve's stubborn chest kept rising and falling weakly for hours. At least, it felt like hours. Bucky left his phone in the kitchen, and there was no other way of telling time in here. He expected them to remain like this until Steve's last breath. "I'm tired," were going to be his last words. Bucky would never hear those words the same ever again.

When he heard Steve's voice call "Bucky?" he thought he'd imagined it. Steve spoke as if to get his attention. Like he didn't know that Bucky was already focused on nothing else but him, and had been for the past weeks. The past years, really. Steve had been the center of his attention for as long as Bucky had known him. Bucky hadn't expected to get another conversation, however short it may be, and he thanked whatever forces out there that had granted him this moment.

"What?" Bucky whispered back, running his hand through Steve's brittle hair. He held his breath, not wanting to miss a single word.

"I did it." Steve's voice, though desperately weak and raspy, was laced with amazement. Bucky hugged him tighter and kissed the top of his head.

"Yes, you did." A tear began to fall, but Bucky stopped it before it could drip from his face and onto Steve. He really did it. He accomplished everything he'd set out to do in this unfairly short life, from marrying his best friend to meeting his surrogate niece. Bucky wished there was more time for more dreams, but they had only this.

"I did it," Steve repeated. His eyes drifted shut and his head lolled against Bucky's chest, left ear pressed to his heartbeat. Bucky closed his eyes and drank in the scent of Steve's shampoo, underscored by a faint whiff of salt. He savored the feeling of him breathing and memorized the twitch of every muscle as it strained to move air.

And then he couldn't feel it anymore.

The trunk and the flower speech is easily my favorite Steve speech I've ever written. God, it makes me cry every damn time I read it. Well, there you have it. The conclusion of the Gold and Purple Years. Man, what a ride. When I started the first Gravesen, I never thought their relationship would end up here, but the more I wrote about them, the more I realized this was where it was heading all along. This is definitely the saddest thing I've ever written.

Once again, this is not the end. I am hard at work on Beyond Gravesen. It will be a very Bucky-centric story. I found it hard to let go after writing so much of him for this story, but I also have some very exciting things planned for some of these other amazing characters. However, I've still got a lot of work to do, so until then I will be posting the AU within the AU Without Gravesen. It is connected to this, but could theoretically be read as a standalone. To give me more time to finish Beyond Gravesen, I will have to draw back to posting only 2 chapters each week. I also have some Gravesen Guardians chapters sitting in my drafts that I need to post. Thank you so much for following along this crazy journey, and I hope to see you in the next installment!