Since I'm traveling next week, this big chapter will have to tide you over. Enjoy, and I hope you all have a happy holiday and new year!
and if you want to read a Very Special Ice Demon Christmas special - remember, Ice Demon and the Hydra, Chapter 9!
Chapter Four
In the safehouse bedroom, Steve lay there on his bed, eyes flicking open each time they shut and heart pounding with the sudden anxiety that if he fell asleep, he'd sleep another lifetime away.
But he stayed there, telling himself it was stupid. He needed rest, and he knew it. Lukas was right that today had been fatiguing. There was so much information, so many bright lights and sounds to take in….There was just so much of everything in this time, it was overwhelming.
Here in his room, all that was far away. The traffic noise wasn't that different from the sounds he'd grown up with, and otherwise everything was quiet. He felt less physically tired and more wrung out, but he should be able to sleep.
But his fears wouldn't let him. Another half hour of tossing restlessly, he gave up and flicked on the light. He picked up the phone to find something else to read and maybe help himself fall asleep that way, but found himself too restless for that. He'd go find something on the television. Or no, he should go running outside.
Shoes back on, he cracked open his door. The living area was dark and deserted, so Lukas had gone to bed. But he only got two steps down the short hall toward the front door, when Lukas' bedroom door opened to reveal Lukas standing there. He arched his brows at Steve and absurdly, Steve felt like Colonel Phillips was back and glowering at him in disapproval. Even though Lukas didn't look disapproving, only curious, Steve still felt a pang of guilt for being caught out.
So Steve asked first, "You can't sleep either?"
Lukas was still in the same clothes, the room behind him was lit up, and the bed still made, so it seemed Lukas hadn't tried to sleep yet, though it was well past midnight.
"I don't sleep much," Lukas answered.
"Funny, because I slept too much."
Lukas' gaze flicked down, as if the sad joke had struck too deeply. Steve opened his mouth to try to stop Lukas from feeling guilty about that, but Lukas looked up again, trying to smile as he asked, "What were you intending to do?"
"Go for a run. You want to join me?" Steve invited.
Lukas didn't complain about the hour, only pondered the question for a breath and nodded. "All right. Give me a moment to change." He shut the bedroom door and Steve headed back to the living room to wait. He'd reached the couch but not sat down to wait, when the door opened. Lukas had changed out of his suit trousers and button-front shirt, to a white T-shirt and pants made out of some shiny black fabric with a stripe up the sides.
"Shall we?" Lukas gestured toward the front door.
The city wasn't dead at night, but it got a bit sleepy, especially as they turned uptown away from the night-life. Their steps made steady beats against the sidewalk, except when they had to dodge the trash set out for pickup and the occasional person sleeping there.
The park itself was dark and could've been spooky, except there was no danger to him. Not with the serum in his veins, and not with Lukas, who had once caught a bullet in his hand, running next to him.
Once, way back when, Steve would never have gone running in Central Park after midnight. Of course, he couldn't have run anywhere, anyway, but even if he had, he wouldn't have done it so late, because it was dangerous.
But back then, not that long ago and yet now ancient history, the most dangerous person in the park had been anyone else but Steve.
It was an easy pace, faster than a jog but nothing he couldn't sustain for hours if needed. He glanced at Lukas, who was pacing him, and Steve smiled. It was so good to have someone who could keep up with him.
They'd rounded the north end of the park and headed back downtown, when he heard the distinct sound of a fist hitting a body, muffled by clothes, and the gasping cry of someone getting beaten. It was a familiar sound, and Steve's feet slowed, for him to listen for where it was happening.
A gruff voice carried, "Shut up, there's someone near."
That gave away their position and Steve trotted that way. Lukas went ahead a few steps, before he noticed Steve was going somewhere else and followed. At the edge of one of the path lights, there were two men above a third, crouching down.
The two standing men turned, alarmed, but got less so when they saw what looked like just a runner.
"Hey, fellas," Steve greeted.
"Get out of here, man, this isn't your business," the taller one said, and then his eyes flicked to see Lukas coming up behind Steve. "Both of you. Scram."
"See, I could, but you'd just keep beating the hell out of that guy, and I can't just pass by. So you two need to move along and let this guy go."
His voice was reasonable, Steve thought, but of course they didn't listen. The shorter one pulled a switchblade, and took an aggressive step forward. "Dude, fuck off."
Lukas moved up next to Steve. "Oh, they think they're intimidating, Steven. How cute."
"Cute?" the aggressive one snarled. "I'll show you cute, motherfucker." He swung the knife in Lukas' direction. Lukas was like water, slipping to the side and grabbing the knife hand and doing something with it, so the guy cried out and the knife clanged on the ground. It landed close to the victim, but he remained curled up, either too afraid or too hurt to move.
"Lukas!" Steve warned, meaning not to kill him or break his arm, since Lukas was in position to do either, immobilizing the smaller man against himself, one arm around the neck and the other hand had a grip on the wrist.
It might have ended there, except the taller companion pulled out a gun. "Let Tommy go! Or I'll shoot."
Steve eyed the gun, fingers itching for his shield. He could get to the gun, but could he get to it before it fired?
"Oh no," Lukas exclaimed in a mocking tone. "A gun."
"I mean it! Let him go, or I'll shoot."
"Oh, you can try. But here's your problem: if you fire, I'll break Tommy's fragile little neck," Lukas purred with something dark and coldly angry in his voice. He twisted his hand and Tommy cried out. "Or maybe I'll shatter the bones in his wrist." Tommy's knees buckled, and he jerked his head in a vain attempt to get free and garbled some kind of plea.
"Lukas!" Steve said, wondering if he was going to have to attack Lukas to get him to back off. He looked the gun-wielder in the eye, reading the uncertainty. "Put it down, son. And both of you walk away."
"Walk away?" Lukas repeated, objecting. "No. They need something to remember why it's a terrible idea to beat up people in Central Park. In the middle of the night. Where no one can hear you." At each phrase he tugged on Tommy's arm, making him cry out each time.
Tommy's friend looked from one to the other, wide-eyed, and his hand shook, "You're crazy, man. I have a gun! I could kill you."
"Well, that's the problem with your threat, you can't. Here, take him back." Lukas shoved Tommy away, into the gunman, and in a split-second, Steve saw what was going to happen: the gun was going to fire right into Tommy, as the finger pulled the trigger in fearful reflex. Steve was already leaping, as Lukas pushed, and grabbing for the gun to make it point away.
The sound cracked through the quiet night, and everyone in the pile flinched and cried out, wondering if the bullet had hit anything. Luckily it hadn't.
Steve plucked the gun away, rolled to his feet, and hurled it into the lake. He turned to confront Lukas. "What the hell was that?"
Lukas folded his arms and smirked. "I let him go. Just as he wanted."
"You were trying to get him killed!" Steve returned, furious that Lukas was finding this amusing. "What the hell happened to you? You-"
Lukas' eyes flared and he flung out his hand in warning. "Steven!"
Steve whirled to find Tommy had found his knife, and was rushing him. Steve grabbed and punched him, and when Tommy's friend came into the fray, Steve flipped him hard against the ground.
Both were lying there, moaning, while their victim was staring at his rescuers, astonished.
"You were saying?" Lukas said blandly to Steve. And Steve winced, knowing he'd been hardly any less violent than Lukas had.
"Holy shit," the victim breathed in wonder. "Who the hell are you?"
"Nobody. Just a kid from Brooklyn," Steve answered shortly. "Do you need the hospital?"
"No, no, I'm okay." He seemed to stand all right, cradling his ribs on the left side after Steve had pulled him to his feet. "Thank you."
"Go on, get out of here. We'll handle these two."
Lukas added, "But in case they were beating you because you also are a scum-sucking lowlife criminal, be warned that karma is a real force. You've been given a chance, and if you reject it, it will come back on you. Go."
He nodded, looking dazed enough Steve hoped he didn't walk into traffic, and stumbled off into the dark, leaving him with Lukas and the two others on the ground.
Lukas picked up Tommy's knife and examined it. "Cheaply made, Tommy. The steel in this will break with any kind of force, and the edge is so dull it wouldn't cut an apple." He snapped the blade and tossed the two pieces into the trash can, turning to Steve. "Are you ready to go back?"
"I was kind of hoping they'd come at us again," Steve admitted, and Lukas' smile was bright with mirth.
"It is much more fun. But no, I think they're down and they've learned their lesson."
Tommy pushed himself up on one elbow to glower at them. "Next time we see you, we'll teach you a lesson."
Lukas went to one knee by Tommy, who flinched back, but not quickly enough to avoid Lukas' hand grabbing his hair. "No, you won't, because next time I see you, my good-hearted friend there won't stop me from ending you. So keep your head down," he shoved Tommy's head into the dirt, "and out of my way."
He stood up and sighed, looking at Steve. "Let's go. I tire of these hostile children." He started running and Steve ran after, staying a bit behind to mull over what he'd seen and heard.
When they were back in the apartment, Lukas scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I need a shower."
Steve wanted to discuss what had happened, but decided they were both probably too tired to deal with it right then. "I'm going to try bed again." Lukas was starting to close the bathroom door when Steve added, "Lukas? Hey, uh," Lukas' face went tense, probably from expecting Steve to harangue him about his actions. "In the morning- this is stupid- but if I'm still asleep, would you make sure I wake up? I don't want to miss anything, sleeping too long."
Expression softening, Lukas nodded. "Of course. I will wake you."
"Great. Thanks. Good night."
"Sleep well." He closed the door to his bathroom and Steve went back to his room, more invigorated than tired out by by the run and the fight. But in the end, it did help, and after the water had stopped running on the other side of the apartment, Steve dropped into sleep.
Steve snapped awake and was upright as he opened his eyes, heart thumping with the sudden fear that it'd be 2050 or some damn thing.
But the room was the same, with brighter sunlight glowing around the edges of the curtains. Rubbing his face he let out a breath and decided he might as well get up.
In the main room, Lukas was already up. He wore a long-sleeved pine green sweater, thin as a shirt but knitted, and black slacks. He looked up when Steve emerged and smiled a greeting. "Good morning. Unfortunately there is little to eat, since no one thought to stock anything."
Steve went to peruse the kitchen, since he hadn't yesterday, finding it pretty bare as Lukas had described. "I still have an instinct I need to make do with what's here," he observed wryly, "but I know I don't have to. Let's go find breakfast and we'll grab some basics on the way back."
At the Starbucks, he gaped at four dollars for a coffee. "Is it made of gold? Good Lord."
"Not my money." Lukas shrugged and held out the credit card to pay for their food and drink. Steve glanced at him, disapproving of this unnecessary spending, but Lukas was immune.
Steve got his plain coffee- better than the slop they'd drunk in the war but hardly four dollars worth of better – and Lukas had something that looked more like dessert with whipped cream and chocolate topping. Modern decadence.
There was no place to sit down in the tiny shop so they sipped at their drinks while under a bank building's awning and watched the people and the traffic. It felt… familiar, Steve decided. Sure it sounded different and the people were dressed differently, but the flow of it was the same. Businessmen still walked with quick steps, taxicabs still drove like maniacs, tourists still strolled, gaping at storefronts as if they'd never seen a shoe store before.
"You're right. It's not that different," he said out of nowhere, but Lukas didn't seem surprised, he just nodded.
"Humans – actually most people everywhere – are much the same," Lukas answered.
"So there's us and there's your people, are there others?" Steve asked curiously.
Lukas gestured with his free hand, long fingers as if gathering them all to him. "Oh yes. So many kinds. It's a big universe, Steven, with so much in it you cannot even imagine."
"But you came here?" Steve asked, a bit dubiously.
"Well, at first I wanted to hide on a backwater planet where no one would look for me and then…." His gaze went distant. "There seemed no reason to go elsewhere. At least I knew this world, and my powers made living here easier than I might find elsewhere."
Steve listened to this obvious attempt at diminishing the appeal, and asked with a smile, "So you would rather I think you're lazy, than admit you like it here?"
Lukas scoffed. "Like it? Absurd. I tolerate it." He lifted his chin loftily, and Steve laughed.
"Fine, Your Highness. Let's go buy groceries, if you can deign lower yourself that far."
Lukas rolled his eyes but followed.
The bodega was an interesting study for Steve between things he recognized and things he absolutely had no idea what they were. Lukas helped with some of that, though he seemed mostly intrigued by the rows of beer bottles in the cold case. He ended up buying one with, he claimed, the best design, though Steve neither agreed with that assessment, nor figured the label proved anything about the content quality. But it was something Lukas seemed interested in, so Steve didn't object.
Armed with their basic staples, they carried the sacks back to the apartment, and it was companionable putting it away. It felt more like a home with eggs and bread and butter in the kitchen.
"So, what else for today? Do you want to take the train to Brooklyn?" Lukas asked. "We could-"
Brooklyn. Steve was abruptly angry, though he knew even as it happened that there was no real reason for it. "You know, you don't have to babysit me," Steve snapped. "I can get to Brooklyn on my own."
Lukas raised his brows and frowned as if trying to figure out what Steve was upset about. "I do not doubt that. Nor am I babysitting you."
"No?" Steve demanded. "You're not here to keep watch on me? To make sure I don't do anything stupid, or reveal myself to the public too soon? Did Fury put you up to watching me?"
Lukas remained calm against the accusation. "You saw what I think of Nick Fury's manipulations of you. I am not here to do any of that. I am your friend, and I wish to do things with you because you're back after I thought you were dead. Not control you, or 'babysit' you. If anything, I think we're meant to babysit each other."
His calm made Steve realize he'd been out of line. "Sorry." Steve waved a hand in vague apology, letting out a breath. "I don't know where that came from." He blinked and frowned, realizing something didn't make sense. "Wait, why would you need babysitting?"
Lukas stilled, as if surprised by the question, before turning with an easy smile. "Ah. I think you are under a mistaken impression that I was on Earth all the time you were asleep; I was not. I was sent down to Arendelle only a few weeks ago. So I have a small head-start on you, but I am hardly an expert on modern Midgard."
That put things in a different context. No wonder Lukas wasn't especially knowledgeable about modern American life; it wasn't because he was an alien and didn't care, he literally hadn't been there to see it. "Oh. I thought – of course. That makes more sense."
Lukas said. "I should have explained before."
"No, no, that's okay. Now I know. So what have you been doing these past few weeks? Hanging out in Arendelle until SHIELD figured out you were there?"
"More or less," Lukas agreed with a tight shrug. His fingers rubbed his opposite wrist, an anxious gesture that Steve recalled from when he'd fidgeted with the bandages on his wrists. "I spent some time on a farm, ah, what would the word be? Acclimating, I suppose. So I might now help you do the same."
"Right. Sorry, I shouldn't have snapped at you."
Lukas smiled wryly. "You weren't entirely wrong, I am here to discourage you from foolishness."
"No," Steve disagreed with a shake of his head. "We're in this together. So, why did you come back? To Arendelle, Earth- wow, that still seems unreal," he laughed at himself.
Lukas wandered away to pick up the papers on the table and tap them to straighten them. "I did something impetuous and unwise at home, and it got me sent away."
Steve noticed the lack of details and frowned. "You mean exile?"
"At first. I could return now, but I choose not to," Lukas answered. "I'm here to stay."
"Well, I'm selfishly glad about that. Your presence makes this easier." He gripped Lukas' shoulder in thanks, surprised when Lukas turned sharply to dislodge the grip. But thinking about it, Lukas had never been one for the cheerful embrace back in the war, as Steve recalled. He'd figured Lukas didn't like casual touch because of his captivity then, but perhaps he was just that way.
Steve didn't mention the avoidance. "Although I guess even if you hadn't come here, I'd have Bucky and Peggy, too. Do you know about the rest of the Howling Commandos?" Lukas shook his head that he didn't. "You didn't want to know they were dead?" Steve asked.
"I thought for certain they were. My experience with humans suggested they rarely reach ninety, so it was a shock to learn about Carter and Barnes. Or Carter-Barnes, I suppose I should say. That is how she signed her letter-"
Steve almost didn't notice, but the meaning dawned on him and his head whipped around in a movie-style double take. "Carter-Barnes?" he repeated. Lukas had to be mis-stating that; it couldn't possibly mean what he thought it meant. "They got married?"
He knew Lukas had done it on purpose, when Lukas laughed. "To each other!"
"Oh." Steve could only stare, trying to figure out what he felt about that. "Oh. Well. Isn't that something?" Steve said. It was strange how his heart could sink at the thought that Peggy had married someone else, even though of course, it had been decades and he would never want her to pine away for him. Yet his heart also felt too big with joy, that they had found each other. He chuckled, thinking back to that time in the pub when Bucky had asked her to dance and she'd refused him. Apparently she'd said yes in the end, and found her right partner, after all.
"I know they had two children, as well; Lucy for me, and Steven for you. Lucy is a professor of Norse linguistics," Lukas said with more somber, yet evident pride. "I have not met her yet, but I know she has consulted for SHIELD."
"Wow. That's great. Kids. And a professor already." Though when he did the math, he realized she was probably in her forties. Bucky and Peggy could have grand-kids. They probably did.
Because they were in their nineties. It finally sunk in that they were old. Like he was supposed to be, but wasn't. He sank down to the couch, hands clasped between his knees, and looked up at Lukas. "How do you deal with this?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper. "They're old, and I'm not. They've lived, and I've been stuck out of time."
Lukas grimaced. It was not a smile. "I don't deal with it. Not well, at least. Why do you think I have not pressed to go to them? The concept of children growing up and becoming adults, I manage to grasp, but aging and death? Those are difficult to see in my mortal friends and family. That is why I tried not to be as social with the Howling Commandos, to keep myself somewhat apart so it would pain me less when death inevitably struck. It was not very successful. Natasha advises caring more broadly, so the loss of one is not so deep. But I wonder if that will not make the loss unendurable." Lukas fell silent, eyes weighted with years and loss that Steve couldn't imagine, far beyond his own. Lukas wasn't a 'real' god or demon, but he was no mortal human either, not with those eyes.
He blinked himself back to the present, glancing at Steve with an attempted smile. "So, difficult as it is for you, I must admit to some gladness that you are also less touched by time. I feel less... alone."
Steve turned that one over in his mind, and thought it was true for him, too. What would this be like without Lukas? Without a friend from before who was the same, who shared some of the same experiences? Without someone who missed the same people and was familiar with the same things that Steve was, plus Lukas had even more years of dealing with staying youthful while the rest of the people he knew aged. Even if he claimed not to handle it well, at least he understood the problem. And if he was right, and Steve was doomed to outlive more friends, then at least Lukas would be there for that, too.
Steve stood up again, so he could look Lukas in the eye. "And I'm glad you're here, too," he declared, meaning to be clear so Lukas would understand every word without doubt. "I'm glad I'm not alone in this either."
Lukas' smile was more genuine then, widening out with a flash of happiness that Steve was glad to see. Humor from him wasn't rare, but happiness seemed to be, and Steve liked to see it.
"We should go see them," Steve suggested. "Not just because they're our friends." At Lukas' inquisitive brow lift, Steve added, "But because we've got to get used to it sometime, right? Better sooner than later."
Lukas stilled and then quirked his mouth in a bit of a wry smile. "You are wiser than I, Steven."
"Says the man who told me two minutes after I woke up that I'd slept decades," Steve teased but then got serious. "But I don't want is to miss anything else of their lives. Not while they still have them. I missed a dance, Lukas. I missed… so much. But I don't think I could stand to miss everything."
Lukas nodded. "As one who believed I had missed everything, that is best. For certain."
Steve frowned, "So why didn't you come back sooner? You knew they were alive."
"I knew," Lukas admitted. "But I also knew they would blame me for your loss. And I thought it best the Ice Demon die there." His eyes shifted away and his lips shaped the words, barely with any voice, "With you."
Steve reached for him before remembering the touch would be unwelcome and took back his hand, shaking his head in denial. "Lukas, the only one who blames you, is you. I said it before, and I'll keep saying it til you believe me- it's not your fault."
Lukas' face twisted in denial. "It is!" he insisted. "If I hadn't fled, if I hadn't been too much a coward to face them, you might have been saved sooner. You might have woken up in time to dance with Margaret, and those would be your children, not James'. So think of that, before you think to absolve me of things that are absolutely my doing."
He rushed out, letting the door slamming behind him, and Steve watched him go, mouth open but unable to call after him. His voice seemed stopped in his chest, as the pieces fell into place. Because it was probably true; Lukas could have given them a better location where the plane went down. Maybe Steve could've been found earlier. But Lukas had left, not telling anyone where the plane had crashed, so Steve had slept decades.
Steve had missed his life. He'd missed the life he should have had, because Lukas had vanished, instead of staying. It was his fault.
The fury rose up inside him, bubbling up with the unfairness of it all, that he'd lost his whole life and everything good in it, he'd slept away the end of the war and all that followed. He'd missed his chance with Peggy. He'd missed his chance for a normal life. He'd missed everything, because Lukas had run away.
He shoved the table, slamming it into the wall so hard the plaster cracked. He watched little bits of paint flake off and fall, his chest heaving and fists clenched.
Because he thought you were dead, idiot, a small voice chided in the back of his mind. It sounded like Bucky. He didn't mean to leave you, you know that. You know Schmidt tortured him, and you remember he had a head wound. He threw up on the deck, he could barely stand, and for damn sure he wasn't thinking clearly. Did you think he would make it after he fell out of the plane? No. You hoped so, since you knew he'd done amazing things, but you thought it was more likely he was dead. So don't blame him for thinking the same about you.
The reminder from his conscience made the anger settle back down. He was still angry at the sheer unfairness of what had happened to him, but it was also unfair to blame Lukas for it. There were things Lukas could've done differently, but that was true of Steve, too. He could've kept a tighter hold on Lukas and kept him from diving after the cube. He could've taken down Schmidt faster and harder, and kept him from the cube in the first place.
But Lukas was blaming himself, and since the last time he'd done that, he'd vanished from Earth for sixty years, Steve decided to go after him, and reassure him that he was forgiven.
Outside the apartment, on the landing, he hesitated, wondering if Lukas had gone up to the roof or down to leave. He called down to the old man slowly mopping the floor, "Hey! Have you seen my roommate?" The old man turned and peered upward at Steve, through his glasses, then pulled out an ear piece. Steve moved down a few steps. "Did you see which way my roommate went? Guy with the black hair?"
"Your boyfriend went out," the man pointed with his broom handle toward the main door.
"He's not my-" Steve started, but the janitor put the thing back in his ear and kept on mopping, so Steve gave up objecting. He took the stairs two at a time, waved his thanks to the janitor as he passed, and headed into the street. No slim silhouette with black hair was visible in either direction, but there was a redhead heading his way from the subway entrance.
"Morning, Natasha," he greeted her as she came up. "Did you see Lukas? We had kind of a fight and he stormed off."
She shook her head. "No, I didn't see him. But let me see if I can find him." She pulled out her phone, and he watched as she touched the screen rapidly, before putting it away. "In Central Park."
Steve blinked amazed he'd traveled all that way in such little time. That was faster than Steve could run there. But then he frowned. "How do you know that? Did you put a tracking device on him?"
"No!" she objected, incensed. "Not that. He'd never forgive me for doing that without his knowledge. But, he does have a phone, and he knows it can be tracked."
Steve thought of his locator beacon and nodded understanding. It was something else that they made much compact in the future, but the same concept.
"What did you argue about?" she asked.
"Not really an argument. We were talking about going to see Bucky and Peggy, and he was upset he'd left after the crash, instead of telling them where it was. Which I guess is true, but I don't want him to think it's his fault. But he left before I could say it."
She hesitated, eyes flickering with indecision, and Steve wondered if there was a secret being kept from him. She answered, "He told me after you died, he didn't think about Barnes or Carter, at all. Even when he was back here, he didn't seek them out or ask if they were alive until the director gave him a letter Carter had left for him. The letter forgave him for not coming back, but he doesn't believe it. And he won't until he hears it from them. He doesn't have a lot of," she chose the words carefully, "emotional resilience."
Steve nodded slowly. "Because of his captivity and torture." Although Lukas had seemed mostly okay after he'd been rescued, Steve knew that an experience like that wouldn't just go away, not in anyone with human reactions to things, which Lukas certainly had, despite his age.
"Among other things," Natasha agreed.
Including exile, Steve knew, and resolved to find out more about that. He was definitely getting the picture that Lukas needed a friend as much as Steve did. Certainly last night's thwarted mugging had suggested he needed someone to pull him back when he strayed into dark violence. "I'll go after him."
Her hand closed around his forearm, forestalling movement. "No, I'll go. And when we're back, we'll head to DC to visit your friends. I think you both need to see them."
Steve wanted to see them, but he smiled wryly as Natasha. "No musical?"
"I don't think Broadway's going anywhere," she retorted. "Wait for us. I'll bring him back." She headed down the walk, and Steve watched her go, before returning to the apartment to wait.
tbc...