Chapter 5

.

Natasha checked her map again, to find that Lukas was still in the same place, by the obelisk. She'd texted him that she was on her way to him, and though there'd been no direct response, he'd seen it and so he was waiting for her.

She entered the little plaza beneath the obelisk. Lukas was there, standing in the shade between the fence and the obelisk's base. He was wearing black, the jeans and T-shirt simple but fitted to his slim form perfectly. It looked good, but she remembered that beautiful emerald green silk shirt he'd had in Arendelle and resolved to find him something like that again.

She approached and called out, "I see you managed to find the only thing in New York older than you are."

He glanced at her, with a smile forming to see her coming near. "I thought at first it was one of those fake follies the aristocracy made so much of back in the day," he said, "but it's genuine." He tilted his head at it, looking up at the worn hieroglyphs. "I remember it from Egypt. It's good to know some things endure, if somewhat faded and not in the same places they once were."

She knew that was directed at himself, but left it alone to try and poke at what had happened with Rogers. She curled her hands around the railing between them. "Steve tells me you're still blaming yourself for not coming back sooner, after the plane went down."

He tensed, and kept his gaze upward. "I could have."

"Could you?" she countered softly. "Truly? You told me you didn't even think about Carter or Barnes. And that's not because you were selfish or cruel, Lukas; it's because you were too upset to think clearly." She hesitated, unsure if she should mention it, but deciding to forge ahead, "And because, I think, you were afraid if you thought about them, you would also remember what else happened. You tried to leave all of it behind. That's perfectly understandable, and there is no way Barnes wouldn't understand that. You should read his memoir. There's nothing but admiration for you." She reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder lightly, and murmured, "You don't have to be afraid they'll be angry."

He dropped his chin and didn't speak at first, letting her words rush through him, before he huffed a laugh. "So easily you see to the heart of me, Natalya, and disarm what I know are foolish fears, but they prey on me nonetheless."

She rubbed a hand across his shoulder and down his arm. "That's what friends do. And Steve wants to be there for you."

Lukas gave a sharp shake of his head in denial. "He has enough to manage, without dealing with me."

She pulled at him, to get him to turn and look at her. "You're the one thing right now he hasn't lost. You're his connection. So let him be connected to you. It'll make you both stronger."

He grimaced, not quite a smile, and seemed resistant but didn't argue. "Very well. But do not tell him about Sokovia. That's too much for him to carry."

She opened her mouth to object that he was ignoring everything she'd just said, but his face was stone and she knew she wasn't going to get very far. One careful breath later, she had her control back and reminded him, "He'll find out, Lukas. It's not a secret."

"Now it is," he declared, folding his arms. "Tell SHIELD they are not to tell him. I will tell him when I want, not before." Deciding that was settled, he announced, "We should go back before Steven gets himself in trouble."

Natasha doubted that Rogers on his own was any more likely to get in trouble than Lukas was, but she nodded.

Making their way back to the apartment, they found Rogers waiting inside. "You feeling better?" he asked Lukas.

Lukas nodded, looking down and away. "I apologize," he said stiffly. "I should not have run out."

"You were upset; it's okay. And just so you know, those years weren't lost because of you." Lukas snapped up his head to object, but Steve lifted
a hand to stop him. "Listen. We both made a choice when we jumped on Schmidt's flying wing, knowing we might not make it out of there. We knew it had to be stopped, and I would do it all again. And without you, Bucky'd be dead. If I have to choose, I'd rather have you and Bucky and Peggy alive in the future, than me waking up alone in 1946."

Lukas still looked resistant and stubborn, so Steve added, "You didn't take her away from me, okay? Fate did. Or God. Or Schmidt. But not you. You didn't think you had anything to come back for, I get that. That doesn't make you a monster, it makes you," he paused, realizing what he was about to say before chuckling and saying it anyway, "it makes you human."

Lukas didn't answer immediately, but nodded slow acceptance of the words.

"Good," Steve said. "Now let's visit our friends."

The three of them found their seats on the train, and Steve was amused when Lukas stretched out his legs with a relieved sigh. "Ah yes, so much more civilized than primitive flying deathtraps."

"Trains aren't more primitive than airplanes?" Natasha asked, teasing.

"It could be faster," he allowed, waving a hand toward the window and the view outside slowly shifting. "But those airplanes are nightmares."

Natasha looked across to Steve and explained, "He's afraid of flying."

"I am not!" Lukas protested, sounding very offended. "I'm fine with flying. I dislike my aircraft exploding and falling from the sky. Which you lot seem to court with every single flight."

"Don't listen to him," she advised Steve. "Flying is very safe, these days. He just doesn't like jet engines."

"It's on fire, Natalya. You are still using the steam engine, and you think it is so modern," he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Steve had to smile at their banter and wanted to get a little of his own back. "I remember. You almost threw up on that flight back to London."

"That was my first ride on a flying death lottery. And the stench was foul."

"That it was," Steve agreed, nodding. "The later ones we flew weren't so bad, but that one stank."

They played cards for part of the trip, though Lukas grew bored quickly and started playing tricks. Real magic or however Lukas was doing it, Steve knew it was impossible for him to have six aces from one deck. But the pranking phase didn't last long either, as Lukas stood up to walk the length of the train. He didn't come back right away, but when Steve asked if they should go find him, Natasha shrugged.

"He wouldn't leave the train without telling us," she said.

Steve raised his eyebrows and looked deliberately at the landscape they were speeding past, thinking there was no way Lukas could leave the train, but she just smiled as if she knew a secret. He thought of Lukas throwing himself off the train in Austria, and conceded that he could jump off wherever he wanted, no matter how fast it was going.

"I'll go see how he's doing." Steve knew Lukas hadn't passed them again to the front, so went to the back. But instead of finding him brooding at the window and watching the scenery, he found Lukas at the bar, doing sleight of hand tricks for a small appreciative audience, including a couple of children who were oohing-and-aahhing when coins disappeared and reappeared beneath cups. When he tipped the cup and a sparrow flew out, even Steve gaped at that.

Lukas grinned at the gasps and clapping, and bowed with a flourish, before joining Steve inside the door. "Missed me?" he teased.

"Wanted to make sure you were okay. And then to find you doing-" Steve waved a hand at the gathering. "What were you doing? Magic tricks?"

"I'm going to be the magician for a small child's birthday party," Lukas told him. "I needed to practice." He brushed past Steve, smirking, and Steve had to laugh at how ridiculous the story was. A birthday party, really? That was the best story he could come up with?

But in their seats again, Steve grew pensive thinking about how comfortable this train was, so unlike Zola's train when he'd watched Bucky and Lukas plummet to what should have been their deaths. It felt like that had happened only a little while ago to him, and yet for everyone else it had been decades. Even Lukas, who hadn't aged, had experienced those years. Time had passed for him, but not for Steve.

Yet when he looked out the window, it didn't seem that much different from taking the train during his war bond tour. Most of that had been by small prop plane, but quite a lot by train as well, and looking out the window wasn't that different.

Especially as they headed into DC, there was forest and farms and old stately homes that looked as if no time had passed at all.

At Union Station they switched to the subway that reminded him of New York's and headed out to Bethesda. There was a car waiting for them there and Natasha drove them the rest of the way, to the elder care facility where Peggy lived. Steve was anxious about seeing her and Bucky again. It seemed a miracle they were both alive, and a curse that he'd missed all their years. Unfairness curdled inside, mixed with joy that he hadn't missed everything, making his reactions unsteady and jolted with every thought.

Meanwhile Lukas seemed just plain anxious, sitting in the back, staring blindly out the window, and Steve would not have been surprised to hear him say he was staying in the car when they finally stopped.

The place was pretty with lush landscaping. There was a tree-lined drive up to a low rise building that looked more like a plantation mansion with front columns and a portico, but the wide ramp with the railings somewhat spoiled the look.

Inside, the front hall had a desk for them to sign in. They'd barely scrawled their name when Steve heard a familiar voice drawl, "Damn, that's just not fair."

Steve spun around and Bucky was there. At first the voice fooled him, because it sounded exactly the same, so he didn't quite comprehend what he was seeing. But as if the mists of time cleared, he saw Bucky.

Bucky Barnes was old. Not ancient, though. He didn't look ninety. He had a full head of hair, all of it silvery-grey, and his face was creased, especially at the corners of his eyes, but he stood with that same upright posture he always had, though thinner than Steve recalled. His arm was mostly hidden by his long sleeve sweater, but his hand looked flesh, the fingers curling naturally against his legs.

"Buck?" Steve said, voice failing him. "Oh God, you're alive."

"That's my line, you punk," Bucky said, his voice was hoarse too, and then his arms went around Steve and held him tight. "Thank God, you're alive."

Modern medicine hadn't given him a flesh hand back, after all. Steve could feel the difference in the strength of his hand. It must be a false one made very realistically.

Bucky pushed back and looked at Lukas, who was hanging back. "And you, Lukas, you don't call, you don't write-" he chided, and when Lukas opened his mouth, expression crestfallen by the teasing, Bucky shook his head. "I knew you'd be back someday, thank God you made it today." Then, ignoring Lukas' stiffness, Bucky hugged him, too.

He looked at Natasha curiously and Steve made the hasty introductions.

"Oh, you're her," Bucky said.

"Her?" she repeated.

"I retired, but it's not like I don't get all the SHIELD gossip. Plus, you probably know I had my own experience with your former, uh, school, so I know how hard that must've been for you to cross over. Welcome, Natasha."

She shook his hand. "Thank you, sir."

He winced. "Oh, don't be like that. 'Sir'. I work for a living. Unlike some people." He glanced pointedly at both Steve and Lukas. "Come this way, into the lounge, and we can talk there."

The lounge area had a fireplace and books on the shelves that looked as old as the residents, though luckily the room was empty. There was also a television displaying a talk show, but Bucky muted it with the wand. He faced Steve, without sitting down yet.

"I really am glad you're alive. It's a miracle," he said. "We thought you were dead."

"I know, Bucky. It's okay."

"You don't mind?" Bucky asked. "Me and Peggy?

At first Steve looked confused, no idea what Bucky was asking, but understanding dawned. "You and Peggy? Mind? Hell no. No," he added more insistently. "I'm glad. No, really. God, Buck, did you think I'd want both of you to waste your lives grieving over someone gone?"

"Well, no, that's why we did it. Not right away," he added hastily. "We did look for you. But eventually, we... stopped." His gaze took on a regretful cast, and he swallowed hard, looking away. "We should've kept looking."

"No," Steve disagreed and gripped Bucky's shoulder. "You did the right thing."

"But we could've-"

"Bucky, you had to live. I understand that. And I'm not mad that you moved on with your life. I'm glad you had each other, and you were happy. I'm just mad I missed it."

"I'm mad you missed it, too. Whatever you need, Steve, anything, you tell me. You're family," Bucky said and hugged Steve again.

Steve hung onto him, eyes tightly shut against the burning, fists against Bucky's back. He was old, but he was still Bucky.

Steve let him go, wiping a hand across his eyes.

Bucky cleared his throat. "Okay. Let's go see Peggy, she should be awake." Before they went back in the hall, he cautioned them, "I want you to understand that her memory's not… what it once was. She may not recognize you, or she may not remember you've already come in the room. So, just, be prepared."

"Oh, no, Buck, I'm so sorry. It must be hard on you," Steve murmured.

"On me? Well, it's harder on the kids," he answered. "Me she'll recognize usually, even if she forgets what year it is."

Steve thought that sounded heartbreaking, and his situation suddenly didn't seem so terrible. Missing time sucked, but at least his mind was intact.

He thought he was prepared for Peggy to look her age. He thought he was prepared to hear her say his name.

He wasn't.

tbc...