CW: Grief/mental health, adult situations, SA
2 Years, 11 Months Post Snap
Harper sat at her grandmother's bedside in the rehab wing of a nursing home. Given that the nearly 92 year old had broken her hip two months prior, she was doing quite well. Perhaps another few weeks in rehab and she could discharge back home with visiting nurses and further physical therapy. Harper was grateful for how well Gram was doing, but she knew that this entire incident had simply sped up her decline. She had lost some weight and despite all of her efforts in physical and occupational therapy, her grandmother was much weaker than she was before her fall.
"I better be out of here in time to go to your graduation," Gram huffed, fidgeting with the blankets on her bed.
"You've been working really hard, Gram. Keep going and you certainly stand a good chance of making it there."
"Oh, I'm working hard. I want out of this place and to go back home."
Harper nodded and added empathetically, "Back to your own bed and your own space."
"Exactly."
"I am worried about you though, Gram," the brunette said gently. "We're all really lucky that Jen's shift was so soon after your accident. I was wondering if you've thought any more about mom's offer to move into the house with her?"
"I don't need to think about it any more than I already have. I don't want to do it," Gram snapped.
The young woman nodded and took one of her grandmother's hands in hers. "Okay, Gram, you don't have to. Mom is just really concerned for you, too. But I think if you don't want to go there that it would be a good idea to get a few more things for your house that will make it safer for you."
"Are you and the social worker here in cahoots? She wants to get me all this stuff, like that stupid 'I've fallen and can't get up' thing. That's for haggard old people."
Harper bit back a laugh and continued, "Well, they make them smaller and less obtrusive than the ones in the commercials. You can get one that goes on your wrist. Those are just like wearing a watch. And we could get you a grabber so you can reach for things more easily. Some more bars to hold onto in your bathroom, maybe some rails like these for you bed…"
"I don't want my house to feel like this place, Harper," Gram shook her head.
"We won't go overboard. And anyway, you're so stylish your home will never feel like this drab place."
Gram chuckled at that and had to nod her agreement. Serious once again, she said, "I still don't want it."
"Would you think on it a little bit please? Having a few more things around the house for you to use if you need them would make mom and I feel a lot better."
"You two need to stop worrying about me so much."
Harper gave her grandmother a sad smile. "Gram, we can't stop worrying. We love you. We've all been taught that we need to enjoy each other for as long as we have. Mom and I are just worried that something might happen to shorten our time with you. If a few little changes could fix that, it would be a real relief for the both of us."
The old woman regarded her granddaughter for a long moment, wizened face set with a frown. Finally, she let out another huff and said, "Fine. It's a deal if you two throw in one of those fancy armchairs that you push the button and they rise up. You know which ones I'm talking about?"
"So you can get up from it more easily?" When Gram had nodded, Harper said, "Yeah, I know the ones. I think we can swing that if it'll seal the deal."
"It would. I need to see the color options before you buy it though. I have a certain color scheme going in my living room and you and your mother aren't discerning enough to get what will go."
"All color decisions will be run by you first, Gram," Harper promised, lifting a hand as if taking an oath.
"Now, could you pass me my tablet? I want to show you how much more fake money I've won on that poker game you showed me."
3 Years, 2 Months Post Snap
Harper clinked glasses with Tawny. They were at dinner celebrating Harper's acceptance of a dream offer to do her post-doctoral fellowship at one of Boston's Veterans Affairs offices. From her interviews, it sounded like there would be a lot of opportunity there, including a true job offer once she finished her requirements for licensure. Within that position, it seemed a lot like her role could be designed around older adults, which had always been the people she felt most drawn to working with. Plus, working with veterans felt like a wonderful way to honor James while also fulfilling her career aspirations.
Absently, her hand moved to curl around her side, resting over her tattoo. Her graduation had been bittersweet. Her mother and Gram were there, much to Gram's delight. But when she began the program Harper had dreamed of seeing her dad there, too, and of James wrapping her in a warm hug and beaming with the pride and amazement he'd always had in abundance for her.
Steve hadn't been able to come. There was some sort of deep space issue that Carol had reported, so he was out at the Avengers compound working on that. He had apologized several times unnecessarily. She was just one woman – Avengers level issues in space far overshadowed anything happening in her life. Still, it had been a shame that the blond who she had grown so much closer to had been absent as well.
Natalie was, of course, still not speaking to her. She had picked up another habit according to their mother. What was some weed on top of pills and booze? But unless she decided she was ready to change or got in trouble with the authorities again, Harper didn't see anything changing any time soon. The occasional abusive drunk text from her younger sister at least assured her that Natalie was still alive.
Trying to put all of her troubling thoughts aside, Harper quickly downed her drink and allowed Tawny to order her a second one. For tonight, having some fun with a friend and forgetting sounded quite nice.
3 Years, 7 Months Post Snap
"Harper, are you alright?" Steve asked, concern heavy in his voice.
"You can tell just from me answering my phone that something's wrong?" she asked, dropping her forehead to her knees. She didn't care if curling up in a ball made it harder to hear her.
"What's going on?" he asked, all business.
"I'm at the veterinary hospital with Aslan," she muttered, squeezing her eyes shut against her emotions. "I noticed he was losing some weight, but lately he's been vomiting a lot and then yesterday he just started crying, and crying, and crying and I…"
She trailed off, having to put all her energy into keeping the tears at bay. There were two other people in the waiting room and it was bad enough she was curled up in her seat like a child.
"Do they have any ideas what's wrong with him?"
"Not yet. They're running a bunch of tests."
"Do you have your mom or Tawny or anyone with you?"
"No. Mom is with Gram because she's been needing more help lately, and Tawny works a bunch. I didn't want to call her."
Steve was silent for a moment, and the berating she thought she was going to get never came. Instead, he said, "Well, I was going to see if you wanted to spend the long weekend down in D.C., but what if I come up instead?"
"You don't need to do that, Steve."
"I'm offering, Harper. We haven't seen each other in a bit, and I could use a nice long ride on my bike anyway."
"If you're sure."
"I'm sure."
"Okay," she muttered in a small voice.
He made small talk for a while, allowing her to simply hum at random intervals rather than really participating in the conversation. Finally, her name was called by a staff person and she cut Steve off with a hurried promise to text him later. Following the man in scrubs to one of the rooms, her eyes welled with tears seeing Aslan with several areas of his previously fluffy body shaved. She had known this would be the case given the tests they were running, but to see his tail, leg, and belly missing fur somehow made the entire situation so much more real.
For the next twenty minutes, she learned more than she ever thought she would have to about hyperthyroidism in cats and discussing treatment options. She held the old feline, cuddling him to her chest as she asked questions and listened to the vet's various explanations. Finally deciding to start him on medication, she situated him in his carrier for the journey home. An enormous vet bill and a bottle of pills tucked into her purse later, and she was heading out to get her poor boy settled with his favorite blanket and some treats.
3 Years, 10 Months Post Snap
Harper angrily tore off her dress and threw it in the direction of her hamper, fighting tears all the while. She pulled on a pair of cotton shorts and one of James's t-shirts. She desperately wished it still smelled like him, but that had faded long ago. With that thought, the brunette simply gave up, falling to her bed and succumbing to the sobs that had been building for much too long.
So many awful things had happened in the past several years, and the camel's back – that is, Harper's tight mental control – had finally broken. Her intoxicated sister just had to pick a fight with her at their grandmother's funeral. Being yelled at while she stood before the fucking hole in the ground Gram would be lowered into was too much to bear. Maybe what Natalie said was true – maybe she was a monster for being able to retain her calm at a funeral, maybe she was robotic, maybe it was desperation that had led her to invite Steve to attend the services, maybe if she wasn't so determined to be strong and perfect then she would have ended up more like Natalie. But she was sure not in control or calm now.
She had lost so much in the Snap. Grief for her best friend, uncle, sister, father, and lover had become bearable but had not gone away. Then Natalie began making awful choices, and their relationship had begun to oscillate between estranged and hostile. Gram had gotten more and more unwell, until earlier that week she passed peacefully in her sleep in her home. Through it all, Harper played her part – the model grad school student pulling top grades, the efficient and capable intern, the big sister who still looked out for her surviving sibling in whatever ways she could, the warm and empathetic therapist, the supportive daughter who helped her mother at each turn down the rough road they shared, and the loving granddaughter who helped her grandmother navigate the confusing world of aging services until she passed at home like she'd wanted to.
But what had all of that left her with? Continued chronic pain and a sick cat and a loneliness that was suffocating when she allowed herself to notice it. She felt so unbelievably overwhelmed and helpless. Years of stuffing things into compartments in her mind had caught up to her as she shook with loud sobs that came from deep in her chest. Tears and mucus soaked her comforter. She cried until her throat hurt and then kept on crying.
She had so appreciated Steve being there for her whenever he could be. Visiting with him was always a wonderful reprieve, and his presence at the funeral had been a great comfort. But ultimately, Harper couldn't help the longing and immense need for James that had taken over. His sturdy form had become her rock, her safe space amidst her pain, her stresses, and her duties to her family. He was always her teammate – her partner – in the moments she struggled to stand alone and even in the moments she didn't.
James would have understood her. He would have understood her feelings of failure as the oldest sibling, having outlived one of her sisters and having to watch the other one destroy her body and her life. He would have understood her grief for all of the people she had lost. He would have continued to understand her pain and what she needed to get by. James would have understood how much she needed Aslan to continue to respond well to his medication because the thought of losing him too made her feel so profoundly lost it was terrifying.
Harper's eyes stung, her throat burned, and her core muscles ached from shivering by the time her tears had run dry. She lay miserably on her bed beside the messy wet patch she had created. Dutifully, her large cat had curled himself into her side at some point during her crying fit. She stroked his fur with a gentle tenderness, wiping at her face with the other hand. If anything else happened in her life, she really didn't know how she would handle it.
4 Years Post Snap
Harper: Tawny wants to go out for my birthday next month. I feel like we're getting to be too old for that kinda shit.
Steve: Well, you didn't celebrate last year, and that was a milestone.
Harper: My final exams took precedence over having a Dirty 30.
Steve: Still. What does she want to do this year?
Harper: She wants to go clubbing like we did for my 21st. Thinks it'll be fun to have a repeat ten years later.
Steve: You don't think you'd enjoy that anymore?
Harper: If she didn't have an ulterior motive, maybe it'd be fun.
Steve: What's her ulterior motive?
Harper: She keeps talking about how I need to get laid to take the edge off all my stress and everything.
Steve: Maybe you do.
Harper: What?! Maybe you missed the whole I've-only-had-sex-with-James-and-still-love-him thing?
Steve: Harper, you don't have to stop loving Bucky to sleep with someone else. Maybe getting out, letting loose, and having a good time with someone would help you feel better.
Harper: I don't know if I can do that. It feels like I'm… betraying him, cliché as that may sound.
Steve: You aren't. Buck never would've wanted you to stop living any part of your life because of him. He'd understand.
Harper: And have you applied that theory to your own life?
Steve: I have. I'm not a 104 year old virgin, Harper.
Harper: And it felt okay, doing that with someone else?
Steve: It felt like it wasn't ideal, but like I was still living my life.
Harper: Perhaps I could consider it.
Steve: Do only what you want to do. But it's not a betrayal of all the love you have for Bucky to move forward.
Harper: Thanks, Steve.
4 Years, 1 Month Post Snap
Harper giggled at her reflection in the mirror of the nightclub's bathroom. She hated to admit it, but she was having a great night. Turns out that she and Tawny still had a lot of their old moves down. Perhaps it was the way they grinded on and twisted around each other, but they had garnered a healthy amount of male attention. Normally, it would make her feel gross to revel in the gazes she had gotten that night. However, she had committed herself to having one wild night to shake up the stretch of misery she had been stuck in, and that required catching the attention of at least one potential hookup partner.
Harper turned in front of the mirror, appraising her appearance before returning to the dancefloor and Tawny. She wore black faux leather leggings that rose up high on her torso. A few inches of skin were visible above that and beneath the tight black crop top she wore. The top had long sleeves and a low neckline, showing off more cleavage than she had dared reveal in many years. Her long hair had been styled into perfect beachy waves, and she had opted for a striking red lip and dark smoky eyes. Sexy black heels completed the look. The only thing that gave her pause was the absence of the silver dog tag that she always wore. Ever since Steve had gifted it to her, the item hadn't left her neck. But given her goal for the night, she couldn't bear the idea of having a piece of James with her.
Harper shook her head vigorously to rid her mind of those thoughts. With a glance around the bathroom to ensure she was alone, Harper tugged at her bra and top to give herself just a bit more perk before heading back out into the room vibrating with loud music and a powerful bass.
Her eyes roamed the crowd, looking for both Tawny and an attractive brunet she had been exchanging looks with all night. As she searched, it was him that found her. As she danced and wove her way through the crowd, he appeared in front of her, a friendly smile on his face.
"Hey!" he greeted over the roar of the music.
"Hey!" she grinned back.
"I'm Lance," he continued, leaning down closer to her ear for ease of communication.
Tilting her head up toward him, she answered, "I'm Harper."
"Nice to meet you, Harper. Could I get you a drink?" he asked.
With a flirtatious smile, she nodded in agreement. He took her hand in a rather bold move, leading her to the bar. They chatted about nothing of substance as she drained another mojito. He worked his way through a gin and tonic, which sealed the deal for her. As they spoke, she made sure to flick her hair out of the way just so, the movement drawing his grey eyes to her chest. Her skills in flirtation were beyond rusty, but she tried to slowly lean in closer to him and to laugh at all his jokes as an indication of her interest.
Finally, Lance said, "I think I need a little air and space. I don't think there's anyone in the billiards room – it's a pretty small, crappy space anyway. Care to join me?"
"I'd like that," the brunette nodded again. The movement of her head was also a good test of whether she was drunk. No dizziness, she was still seeing everything in the singular, and her balance was still fine. With confidence in her decision and excited nervousness for what was to come, she allowed the tall man to guide her to the aforementioned abandoned pool room.
Almost immediately, his lips were on hers. She moaned against his mouth in an embarrassing reaction to tasting a man for the first time in years. He didn't seem put off by her enthusiasm. Rather, it seemed to stroke his ego and ignite greater fervor. Harper found herself backed against a wall, a tongue roaming her mouth and a lean body pressing against her. What good fortune she had to have found such a delightful kisser on her first attempt.
His hands began to roam her body. Her cheeks flushed with anxious heat, wondering if he would still be pleased once he really got a sense of what she was offering. He nipped her lower lip harshly, tugging at the skin before backing off to hiss, "Fuck, you're hot."
Worries assuaged, Harper buried her fingers in his short locks, tugging his lips back to hers. With excited haste, his hands palmed her breasts for a moment before his fingers tugged at her top and bra, pulling them both upward in one movement. She shivered at the feeling of being exposed in what was ultimately a public space. A jolt of excitement shot straight to the throbbing area between her thighs.
"God, big fuckin' tits," Lance groaned appreciatively against her ear before sucking at the lobe.
His hands groped her roughly, squeezing and kneading the generous amount of flesh in his palms. His fingers soon honed in on her nipples, pinching and tugging them as he moaned. Harper squirmed with mild discomfort. She didn't think she much cared for the harsh treatment of the sensitive nubs, but they were in a rush and perhaps the need for a speedy tryst was adding force to his efforts.
Working to stoke the flames in her core again, Harper began exploring his body. Her fingers found a slim frame corded with lean muscle. His shoulders were square and his chest taut, which felt nice beneath her palms. And the hard length pressing against her thighs felt similarly thin and long. She let a small whimper fill the space between their kisses, hardly caring for how wanton she must have sounded. With the way his lips and the feverish need were numbing her feelings and banishing cogent thought from her mind, she vaguely wondered why she had waited so long to find some sort of sexual relief.
With continued urgency, Lance shoved her leggings and thong downward and out of the way. Another shiver of excitement passed through her at the exposure and the promise of some pressure on the button that needed it most. But after some fumbling around her weeping lips, he hadn't even brushed her clit before a finger worked its way into her core. Again, the brunette squirmed with discomfort. She had never much liked being fingered, even if she overlooked her first experience of it, and she hadn't been prepared.
"Hang on," she muttered, pulling back slightly.
The air whooshed from between her lips, leaving her chest as a second finger was added without warning. He began moving them vigorously, speedily entering and exiting her womanhood which was no longer quite so wet.
"Wait," she said more firmly. "I really don't like that. Could you rub my clit instead?"
"Shush. Give it a second. It'll feel good," he answered, breathing heavily against her neck as he began rocking his erection against her hip.
"But-" Her protest fell short when a third finger pressed into her. Tears sprang to her eyes at the unwelcome intrusion. "You're hurting me!"
"Shut up. Lean back and relax, and you'll start enjoying it," the dark haired man snapped. He began working his fingers harder, slamming them into her. Flames of hot pain burst between her thighs. When she tried to jerk her hips away from him, he responded with a particularly sharp thrust.
Harper's palms shoved at his chest, desperate for his removal. He stepped back, looking at her with shock on his face. She demanded, "What the fuck?!"
His surprised expression morphed to one of anger. "I could ask you the same thing. You've been throwing yourself at me and now that I give you what you want, you're gonna whine and push me away?"
"You were hurting me," she shot back. "I told you I didn't like that and you kept going."
"I've never gotten complaints from giving a horny pussy a good finger fuck before. And yours is clearly desperate to be filled," he scoffed. Looking down his nose at her, he reached out and wiped the wetness off his fingers by smearing them across her still exposed breasts. She had never felt so utterly degraded in her life.
With a speed she didn't know she was capable of, Harper pulled her bottoms back up and tugged her bra and shirt back into place before pushing past the disgusting man in front of her. He shouted something after her, but she couldn't comprehend what it was. Very little existed outside of the pain between her legs and her desperation to find Tawny and get out of the club.
In a stroke of true luck, the redhead was not far from the billiards room. One look at Harper had the other woman's face contorting with worry. Harper grabbed her wrist and pulled. Wordlessly, Tawny joined her in her hasty exit. In another stroke of luck, her tears didn't fall until they crossed the threshold into her apartment. After many shared sobs, they agreed that topic of being with other men would not be brought up again.
A/N: Thank you so much for all of the recent reviews, follows, and favorites! I'm a bit nervous posting this chapter because of all of the heavy topics; I don't want it to feel overdone or offensive or gratuitously negative. I'm planting seeds, and things will eventually be brighter! End Game and the return of more MCU characters are imminent. Looking forward to more progress!