The morning of Rebecca Proctor's funeral took place two days later, a day that dawned bright and beautiful, despite the irony of the occasion. However, Kim knew her grandmother wouldn't have had it any other way.
A sunny day is always a blessing, she used to say, it means your feet won't get wet…
The corners of her mouth twitched at the memory, but it didn't last, the pain of loss still so fresh in her heart. Along the eastern border of the cemetery, she stood silently beneath the shade of the massive oak tree, where her grandmother would be laid to rest next to her beloved John. In her hand, she clutched a pair of tulips, which she'd taken from atop the lid of the coffin. Yellow tulips had always been her grandmother's favorite, and Grandpa had made it a point to plant them all over their backyard. Pity they lasted such a short time every spring.
Surrounding her were those who'd also come to pay their final respects to her grandmother, quite a decent-sized gathering considering the short notice on the funeral. Kim recognized some as their neighbors; others were individuals she was unfamiliar with: former colleagues Rebecca used to work with; several members from her church; a few childhood friends who made it all the way from New York. But regardless of what capacity they'd known her in, all of them had come to honor Rebecca's memory. Some even shared some very touching—and, at times, mildly amusing—stories about her past, though Kim couldn't quite bring herself to smile.
Thankfully, those who stood beside her were the most familiar faces of all. To her right stood Aunt Laura, who frequently sniffled and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. To her left was Stark, who appeared surprisingly subdued in his black suit and sunglasses, hardly the center of attention for once. There had been uncertainty as to whether his presence here would result in some sort of media circus, but to Kim's relief, there was only him, and she took comfort in the arm he had draped around her shoulders. Even Emma and Dave were somewhere in the crowd behind them, both taking a day off from the diner in order to be there for support.
The one face she wanted to see above all others, though, wasn't there, and she felt her heart tighten beneath her chest. Kim hadn't seen Bucky at all since the afternoon of her grandmother's death, and she'd been so overwhelmed with grief that she'd spent the entire next day confined to her bedroom. She hadn't been able to handle the sight of the Hospice workers taking Rebecca's body from their home, the knowledge that she'd never be resting in the room next to hers ever again. At the time, she hadn't even been able to text Steve to tell him what had taken place. It just…hurt so badly, drained her so thoroughly that all she could do was stay curled up in bed and cry. And as much as it killed her not to immediately seek out her great-uncle, to be encased in the confines of his strong arms as she released her sorrows upon his shoulder...she couldn't. Not with the amount of people shuffling in and out of the house as they helped Aunt Laura prepare for the upcoming wake. More than likely, their presence would have been a deterrent for him, and she wouldn't have blamed him for staying away.
But when the deafening quiet of the house ensued into the late hours of night, Kim couldn't take it anymore. Tearing from the house in the darkness, she ran out into the woods, hardly paying mind to pain shooting through her bare foot as she stepped on small stones, twigs, and pinecones along the way. She had to be with him, needed to be with him. Bucky had every right to know that his sister had died, and she needed to find him, needed to tell him what had happened yesterday…But try as she might, he was nowhere to be found. Not by the thicket, not near the river, nowhere. And as she sank to her knees and cried relentlessly in the dark, she had to admit how alone she truly did feel.
Grandma's gone, her mind whispered yet again. She's gone forever…
She sighed deeply, and Stark's arm tightened around her. She let him; the affection felt nice.
With a calm, soothing voice, the priest led the group in the closing prayer. "In company with Christ, Who died and now lives, may they rejoice in Your kingdom, where all our tears are wiped away. Unite us together again in one family, to sing Your praise forever and ever."
All uttered "Amen" at its conclusion before dispersing. Stark stood back as some of the attendees approached Kim and Laura once more to offer their condolences, which Kim quietly appreciated. Even Father McCarty came to clasp their hands, offering a few last words of comfort to each of them.
Then Aunt Laura was turning to her, and Kim locked eyes with her, a long, awkward pause ensuing between them. Neither had spoken more than two words to the other since the day Rebecca died, and even now, as she stared into those bloodshot chocolate pools, Kim was unsure of what to say that might be beneficial.
But it was Laura who spoke first. "I'll see you back at the house."
Kim blinked. Stark had been the one to give her a ride to the cemetery that day, both of them agreeing that Laura was not in the mood for company in the car. She gave a nod and quietly replied, "Yeah."
Then, after a further moment's hesitation, her aunt stepped forward to wrap her arms around her, Kim holding her breath as she collected her into a stiff hug. Closing her eyes, she lifted her arms to weakly return the embrace, not making any attempt to deepen the gesture. For now, it was simply enough. Pulling back, Laura shared one last look with her before walking away, heading across the vast expanse of grass towards the walking path. Kim watched her go. It pained her to think about how all of this might change their relationship, but for the time being, she felt it best to just give the woman her space. Losing her brother had been one of the most difficult tragedies of her life, and she could only imagine how losing her mother might exacerbate her woes.
A gentle hand fell upon her shoulder. "Kim?"
She turned to meet the blue eyes of Emma, who gave a small smile before collecting her in a hug, this one much warmer than her aunt's. "I'm so sorry, dearie. You're in my thoughts and prayers."
Kim's arms tightened around her, being careful not to damage her tulips. "Thank you," she whispered.
"We're heading back to your house," Emma pulled back, flicking her eyes over at Dave, "to start setting tables." She tucked a stray hair back behind Kim's ear. "Is there anything you need, though? Anything at all?"
Kim could feel her eyes shimmering, but she wouldn't cry. She didn't have the strength to cry anymore. Arrangements had been previously made for her and Dave to cater Rebecca's wake, and she knew they'd spent extra hours at the diner last night preparing all sorts of hors d'oeuvres and sandwich fixings for them. "No," she shook her head. "I'll be okay."
She pressed her lip into a thin line, her eyes still searching hers. "Just so you know, Rachel sent a whole cherry pie just for you, and it'll be waiting in the fridge when you get back."
That finally caused an appreciative smile to tug at her lips, and she hugged her again, inhaling the faint scent of her vanilla perfume. "Thanks, Emma."
"Of course," she pulled back, glancing down at her hand. "Want me to take those and press them for you?"
"Yeah," Kim handed her the tulips. "Use the dictionary on the bookshelf in the living room; it's the biggest book I have."
"Will do," she looked off into the distance for just a moment, seeming to furrow her brow, but shook her head and smiled at Kim, giving her cheek a stroke. "We'll see you in a little while."
Dave also gave her a quick hug, and in her peripheral vision, she thought she noticed Emma giving another brief glance in the same direction as she had before. Once they'd departed, Kim crossed her arms over her chest and walked right up to the side of her grandmother's coffin, gazing at it for a long while. By now, almost everyone else had left, but not her. She wasn't ready to leave her grandmother's side just yet. The bright tulips stood out so vibrantly from the dark wood, and she reached out to place her hand upon the smooth wooden surface. The shade had kept it cool.
"How you holding up, Kimbo?" Stark finally asked.
She sighed through her nose. "It hurts."
"That's to be expected." The grass rustled as he drew near, appearing from the corner of her eye as he stepped up next to her. "Doesn't matter how long we prepare ourselves for it; dealing with loss always hits us hard when it finally does happen. I tell you, though: the woman sure could make me laugh."
She smiled thinly. "You kind of look like my Dad; she always liked it when you visited."
"Liked to kid around with him, huh?"
"Yeah." It was like having her son back, she mused, any trace of a smile disappearing. Lowering her eyes, she pressed her palm more firmly against the polished wood. "I'll miss her."
"We all will. There's a lot of her strength in you, though," he draped his arm around her shoulders, and she automatically leaned into his touch. "I could see that ever since the first day Steve introduced me to you. You'll be keeping her alive for me; that's for sure."
A faint smile fluttered to her lips. "Hope so," she uttered, pulling her hand away to cross her arms again.
"You will," he half-hugged her, "but if you think you'll be needing to continue your counseling sessions with Dr. Lakewood at any point after this, just say the word, and I'll check to make sure your insurance covers another round of sessions. If not, we'll get something worked out for you."
Hearing him say that intensified the ache in her heart. Still looking out for me, she thought.
"Tony?" She turned to face him once more. "I don't…think I could have gotten through this week without you." As difficult as things had been—in more ways than one—she truly meant it. "Thank you. For everything."
He cupped her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "You're welcome." Then he tilted his head. "Sorry I won't be able to make it to the wake—"
She lifted hand to silence him. Although she longed for him to stay… "You were here for the service, and that's all that matters." She ducked her head briefly, smoothing a hand down the front of her skirt. "You've given up more than your fair share of time to be here with me, and you need to get back to your own life. And I'm sure Pepper would appreciate having you back home."
Smiling softly, he cupped her cheek. "And here you are, still putting others ahead of yourself."
"It's what you've done for me all along, Tony," she reached up to cover his hand with hers. "I'll never be able to thank you enough for that."
"Don't thank me quite yet, kiddo," he said, moving to stand aside. "Thank me now."
Her brow furrowed at that, but then her gaze followed to where he was pointing, and she choked on a gasp. Coming down the small hill, wearing a dark suit and ignoring the looks of recognition he received from some of the funeral attendees, was none other than Steve Rogers himself, and when he removed his sunglasses, she saw that his eyes were solely on her.
She didn't even realize when she'd started running to him, but her legs were pumping, and the instant she saw him pick up his own pace, tears began to blur her vision.
Steve, you're here. You're here!
It was the only thought repeating itself in Kim's mind as she started to cry, and she couldn't even begin to describe the elation that soared within her as he swept her up into his arms at last. He didn't just hug her; he picked her up off the ground until her feet dangled in mid-air, and she clung to him desperately as if she were afraid he'd suddenly disappear. His arms; God, they were so strong, but so damn comforting at the same time, and she couldn't stop herself from sobbing against his shoulder.
You're here; you're here…
"I'm here, Kim," he said softly, causing her breath to hitch. "I'm here."
She turned her face to press two kisses to his cheek, her arms tightening around his neck.
She could practically feel the smile that split his face. "You don't know how much I've needed that."
"I've needed you," she whispered before succumbing to the tears yet again.
Steve lowered her to the ground, but the arms around her hardly relented. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely, the strain evident in his own voice as he also mourned Rebecca's loss. "I'm so sorry, Kim…"
For the longest time, he simply held her, and she in turn held him, trying to concentrate on how sturdy he was compared to her trembling form. It helped a little; made her realize how much of a pillar of strength he'd been ever since coming into her life. Even now, having him here…it made her feel whole somehow. Made her feel like she mattered.
Much like when Stark held her in his arms. And Bucky…
"But how are you here?" She pulled back just enough to gaze up at him, his handsome face only emphasized by those piercing blue eyes. "I only texted you about the funeral this morning. How did you—?"
"Right on time," Stark said as he approached, prompting Kim and Steve to look at him. "Thanks for keeping your entrance quiet," he offered a hand to Steve, which he accepted.
She stared at Stark, amazed. "You?"
"Since I knew you were going to be in rough shape, I took the liberty of making him aware of Rebecca's passing. I also made it easier on him by arranging a few flights so he could be here." He arched a brow at him, smirking. "Don't think for a second that you don't owe me one, old man."
He also gave a smirking smile. "And if I take her home like we discussed?"
Stark pretended to ponder that, then gave a half-shrug. "Then we'll call it even, I suppose."
There was no way she could repress her breathless giggle. It had been far too long since she'd been together with both of these men. "Tony," wiped her tears away from one cheek, "thank you."
"Anytime, kiddo." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Now that you have a proper escort home, this is where I'll say goodbye. But, before I do," he reached into his jacket and pulled out his iPhone, "one last update to give you."
"On what?"
His thumb swiped across the screen. "You know how I told you I hadn't come up with a name for our little project yet?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Well, that wasn't entirely true."
She lifted an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"
"Only because Rebecca asked me to wait until I felt the time was right." He lifted his eyes to hers, smiling. "And now feels like the right time to me," he held out his phone to her.
Cupping her hand over it to block the sun, Kim angled the phone for Steve to see, reading the title displayed across the screen in bold letters…and she had to smile. "Project Mercury," she read out loud.
"It was Rebecca's suggestion to me," Stark revealed.
Her eyes met his, a pleasant warmth growing beneath her chest. Mercury: messenger of the gods; able to move swiftly thanks to the winged sandals on his feet. She couldn't think of a better analogy for their research. "I like it."
"Thought you'd find it fitting," he said, "considering how fond you are of Greek mythology."
This time, she felt a smirk of her own. "That's Roman; in Greek mythology, it's Hermes."
He grinned approvingly, putting his phone away. "Just making sure you're paying attention. Come here," he opened his arms, and Kim stepped away from Steve to be enveloped in his embrace one last time. "I want you to take at least a week off from Iron Wings, okay? If you need more time than that, just say the word."
She nodded against his chest.
Over her head, she heard, "You take care of our girl, Steve."
"You know I will."
Her heart swelled at Steve's promise, and then Stark was pulling back, lowering his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose so she could see his brown eyes. "Call me tomorrow."
"Will do."
Pushing his glasses back up, he gave Steve a two-fingered salute. "Take it easy, Cap." And with that, he turned and walked away, his confidence evident in every stride.
Releasing a sigh, she looked up when Steve came close again, draping his arm around her shoulders. "Project Mercury, huh?"
She gave a small smile when he said it, but then it faded. "Um…there's a lot I need to fill you in on with that, actually…"
He lifted a hand. "There'll be plenty of time to discuss that later, Kim. Let's just keep the focus on Rebecca today."
Relieved at his suggestion, she nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "I'm glad you're here," she told him sincerely.
He smiled warmly, bending down to press a kiss to the top of her head. "So am I." Then he glanced in the direction of Rebecca's burial plot, sighing as his face slowly fell. "I'd like a chance to say goodbye," he said quietly.
Though he tried to cover it, Kim had detected the tremor in his voice at the end. Slipping her hand into his, Kim felt another wave of sadness hit her as they made their way back towards Rebecca's coffin, but feeling Steve's fingers interlocked with hers gave her the strength she needed to go on.
"Thanks, Emma," Kim accepted the mug of tea she held out to her.
"Of course, dearie. And coffee black for you, Captain," she handed the other mug to Steve.
He chuckled warmly. "Thank you, but please: you can just call me Steve, okay?"
Emma smiled broadly, and Kim could see the gratitude and respect that was shining warmly in her eyes. "Alright then," she gave him a nod, "Steve it is." Her smile remained as she turned and walked back into the house, leaving Kim and Steve alone on the front porch swing.
"I adore her so much," Kim commented sipping her tea.
Steve chuckled again. "She really is a sweet person," he blew on his coffee, taking a drink himself. "Very easy to talk to."
"Yeah."
The two of them settled into a comfortable silence, both sipping their drinks and not feeling the need to talk at great length. For Kim, having Steve beside her again was more comforting than she could have imagined. It was the first time they'd been together since Steve's recovery in April, and to have his elbow occasionally rub against hers reminded her that he really was here. From inside the house, voices chattered on, and some laughter even broke out at times, but Kim didn't pick up on any of the conversations. She knew Aunt Laura was somewhere inside the house, probably still being comforted by Rebecca's friends, and Kim was glad for that. She was going to need as much emotional support as she could get.
All the while, they slowly rocked the swing back and forth, sipping from their mugs every so often and taking in their surroundings. Glancing out at the sugar maple in the front yard, Kim took a moment to observe a brightly colored oriole hopping from branch to branch. Her grandmother loved seeing them; they were yellow…
"How're you holding up?" Steve finally asked, causing her to giggle quietly. Steve, in turn, gave a laugh. "I bet you've been hearing that a lot, huh?"
"Yeah," she set her mug on the small side table next to her, "it's okay, though. I mean, it means people care, right?"
He nodded. "Exactly." Then he was looking at her, an almost wistful smile appearing on his face. "You made her so proud, you know."
Crap. That made her heart clench tightly, and she had to avert her gaze before the emotions overwhelmed her. Don't make me cry again. Don't…She opened her mouth to speak, but Steve wasn't finished.
"I mean it, Kim. One of Rebecca's greatest hopes was that you'd turn out to be a good person, but that can be hard to achieve when you've experienced the kinds of things that you have. But in spite of everything, you've managed to surpass not only your doctors' expectations, but hers as well, and Stark's. And mine." His hand came beneath her chin, tilting her face up until she met his eyes. "I daresay you've even outdone what you thought you were capable of."
She smiled sadly, not entirely sure how to answer that.
"Through it all, she could see that you were always going to be the strong one, no matter what obstacles got in your way." There was a hint of pride in his blue eyes as he cupped her cheek "But what she focused on most was how you always wanted to help others, Kim. Not just yourself. That spoke volumes to her about the kind of person you are, which is shades of your grandmother all over again: sacrificing so much for the ones she loved most."
"Steve..." she sniffed, brushing away a tear, "didn't I warn you about kicking your butt if you made me cry?"
He grinned at that, and Kim couldn't help but smile along with him. "I know somebody else who was a bit like that," he said, reaching into one of his jacket pockets, "and speaking of which, I have something for you."
Kim's brow furrowed momentarily, but the instant he pulled out a set of dog-tags from his pocket, she felt her heart leap into her throat. She stared, hardly daring to believe, but... "Steve," she rasped, "a-are those…?"
"Bucky's dog-tags," he affirmed, turning the metal pieces in his hands. "They're supposed to go to next of kin, and I know that means Laura, but," he looked at her, smiling with sad eyes, then took her hand in his. "I think Rebecca would have wanted them to go to you next."
"But…" Kim started, even as Steve placed the cool metal chain in her hand. Sure enough, staring down at the dented plates—which, she noted, were in remarkably good condition, considering their age—she made out the name BARNES, JAMES B. Oh my God…Tears were falling down her cheeks as soon as she looked up at him. "Where did you find these?"
"Sam and I were following a tip that led us to an abandoned HYDRA lab in Vancouver. Ended up being another dead-end, but I happened to stumble across these in one of their safes," he gestured at the dog-tags. "He'd been contained there at some point over the years."
Her eyes were still locked with his, the tears flowing even faster now, especially when she looked down at Bucky's dog-tags cradled in her hands, her thumb stroking over the stamped letters. The very tags he'd worn back during WWII, and the ones he'd been found with when he'd been taken in by HYDRA…
Her body started to shake as she broke down and wept, covering her mouth with one hand to stifle her sobs. Steve was already there, wrapping his arms around her, and Kim let herself be pulled against his chest. He'd brought a part of Bucky's past to her, had given it to her freely, and it brought a new kind of agony to her aching heart. In her lap, her hand clenched tightly around the dog-tags, an attempt to ease the burning pain.
Steve uttered quiet words, his voice so soothing, so reassuring. Listening to him gave her something to cling to, allowing her to calm down enough to gain control of her tears. "He…" She coughed lightly, pulling back to look at him. "Bucky pulled you from the river that day," her eyes searched his. "Didn't he?"
Steve was quiet for a moment, but then he breathed in and sighed, his shoulders sagging as he answered, "I think he did."
Shuddering breaths passed her lips, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Do you…think there's hope for him, Steve?
"Yeah, Kim; I do." There was no hesitation from him, which had her focusing on the sudden intensity in his eyes as he wiped away her tears with his thumbs. "He's not the same man I once knew, but…" Even he had to pause and shake his head. "I know he's still in there. I could see it in his eyes; he knew me, Kim." She could see the way his jaw clenched beneath his cheeks. "I have to believe that there's something in him worth saving. All my life, Bucky never gave up on me, and I'm sure as hell not going to give up on him."
"Then neither will I," she meant to say to herself, but by the way his eyes started to shimmer, she realized she must have spoken out loud. She held her breath, wondering how exactly he would take that statement...
But then he smiled faintly, shaking his head. "He would have loved you so much if he'd had the chance to know you."
Her heart burned at that, her eyes closing as hand holding the tags squeezed into a fist. She could feel him rubbing slow circles across her upper back. If only you knew, Steve…
"Listen," she looked at him as he reached inside his jacket to pull out his phone, "something I wanted to ask you today."
The corner of Kim's mouth twitched when he started to tap at the screen. It was endearing to see how savvy he'd become with certain technologies over the years, knowing Stark had, of course, been of some assistance in that regard.
"I know I'm a poor substitute for Rebecca, but," he tapped the screen once more, smiling as the song he'd chosen began playing. She gasped quietly when she immediately recognized the opening notes, her heart swelling painfully within her chest. Standing, Steve moved to set the phone on the side table, then held out his hand to her with an almost-hopeful smile. "May I have this dance?"
He'd chosen the song "Oh Donna." Oh my God, Steve…Her chin quivered as her eyes filled with tears.
Steve was speaking, encouraging her softly, and Kim bit back a sob as she placed her hand in his, not entirely sure she had the strength to stand on her own, but he easily lifted her to her feet. Throwing her arms around his neck, she settled her head against his broad chest, inhaling the subtle scent of whatever cologne he wore. She hardly expected him to actually dance with her, seeing how he still hadn't ever—
Her eyes squeezed when he started to sway, moving them in a slow circle in time with the music. Not quite dancing, but close enough to be considered so.
Steve, you wonderful punk, she sniffled, rubbing her face against the lapel of his jacket.
He was leading the dance, and Kim let him, surrendering to the comfort he offered while grasping to the memories of her grandmother. "You'll never be alone, Kim," he said quietly, causing her bite down on her lip. "You're Buck's niece, and you're family. No matter what life throws your way, no matter how hopeless things might seem," he laid his cheek atop her head, "I'm always going to be there for you."
Drawing in a breath, Kim released a trembling exhale, and behind Steve's back, her fist tightened around Bucky's dog-tags once more.
"You're leaving now?" Kim asked, coming to a stop halfway down the stairs the next morning.
Zipping up the side pocket on her rolling garment bag, Laura stood and smoothed the front of her blouse, not even looking in her direction. "My shops aren't going to run themselves," she said, "it's time for me to go."
Kim nodded, lowering her eyes. "Oh." She'd been aware that her aunt was going to leave the day after the funeral, but she hadn't expected her to be ready to go by eight o'clock in the morning. At the very least, she'd hoped she could have made breakfast for the two of them, maybe give them a chance to talk. Even if only a few words. Something. Unconsciously, her fingers toyed with the dog-tags that now hung around her neck.
"I'm sure you're ready to have your house all to yourself, anyway."
Not…really, she thought with a sigh, leaning on the banister. "Do you really have to go right this minute? I mean, don't you want anything to eat first?"
She waved her hand dismissively. "Not hungry. I'll stop for some coffee before I get on the highway," she grabbed her parka from the coat rack.
"For what it's worth," Kim started quickly, hesitating as she debated her next words, "thank you." At that, Laura finally turned and met her eyes. Kim swallowed. "For being here. It…it meant a lot to me."
A long, silent moment passed between them, her aunt's expression never changing as she just stared. Yesterday had been a very long, painful day for Aunt Laura, but it had been for her as well. She'd hoped her aunt would have at least recognized that as another factor they now had in common.
In truth, Kim didn't know what kind of response she was expecting from her. Feeling foolish, she sighed and descended the last of the stairs, heading toward the kitchen to—
"Kim."
Pausing mid-step, Kim turned to look at her, the woman's expression very much unchanged…save for the slight creasing of her brow.
It took another moment, but she unclenched her jaw and said, "Mom had a lot of trust in you, so…thank you for being here for her," she crossed her arms with a quiet sigh. "She obviously needed you."
Kim blinked, unsure of how to respond. It was the most heartfelt compliment she'd given her in a long time, and had she not been so stiff with surprise, she might have needed to place a hand on the wall to steady herself. Once again, they both fell into an awkward silence, neither moving, neither looking away, neither offering the other anything more than a stoic expression on their faces.
The spell was broken, however, when Laura gave her head a small shake. "I better get on the road," she said, grabbing the extended handle on her bag. "Traffic gets worse the closer I get to the border; don't want to get caught up in it."
Kim took a breath. "Text me when you get home?" With her hand on the doorknob, Laura stopped and half-turned to her, not offering any kind of answer as she just stood there. Kim bit the inside of her cheek. "Just so I know you got there safe."
Her aunt still said nothing, but after a moment, she gave a short nod. With that, she left, pulling the door shut behind her, and leaving Kim alone in the hallway.
Crossing her arms, Kim leaned against the wall, listening to the engine of her aunt's car rumbling to life in the drive. She could tell when she was still backing out of the driveway, and when she hit the acceleration, it wasn't long before the sound drifted away, gradually fading from her ears as she drove down the street. Away from Frederick County. Bound for Virginia.
Kim released a slow, slow sigh. The house was quiet. Her house, her property. All to herself now, just as Rebecca had wanted for her. It was so different now compared to the day before, and the longer the quiet lingered, more she became aware of her heartbeat in her ears…
Pushing away from the wall, she made her way into the kitchen, immediately running through a mental checklist while pulling out a container of oatmeal. Problem was, though, that most of the cleaning tasks had already been taken care of by Dave and Emma. They'd been kind enough to stay after the wake last night to tidy things up, wash dishes, and put food and away to give Kim more time to spend with Steve. Dinner prep wasn't a worry; there were enough leftovers in her fridge from the diner and her neighbors to last her at least a month. Mow the lawn? No; that could wait until the weekend. Maybe she ought to just reorganize her bookshelf…
She placed the bowl she'd retrieved from the cupboard on the counter, staring straight ahead at nothing. No matter what useless distraction she tried to come up with, it never took away the fact that at the end of the day, she wouldn't be able to go upstairs and hear her grandmother's shallow breaths; nor the annoying beep of that heart monitor; and certainly not the wheezing sound she'd sometimes make when Kim swabbed her mouth. No. She was gone, and there was no longer anything Rebecca Proctor could do to save Kim from the deafening silence lingering throughout the house.
Not hungry, she suddenly thought, leaving everything on the counter and heading upstairs. She couldn't be in here. Not right now, not like this. She had to get out. Away from the reality of her grandmother's absence.
A jog, she decided. A chance to clear her head, even if it provided only temporarily relief from the sorrow in her heart. She just…had to do something, and all her mind was telling her to do was run.
Less than ten minutes later, she bounded down the stairs in her jogging attire, setting her earbuds into place as she opened the front door and pulled it shut behind her.
"That face you make. Look I so old to young eyes?"
Kim hit the pause button on the DVD player, letting her head fall into her hands. Perhaps Return of the Jedi wasn't the wisest choice for a movie, but since it had been the last movie she and her grandmother had watched together, she thought maybe it would bring some quiet comfort. Judging by the tears that burned behind her eyes, though, she'd been wrong.
Swiping away the tear that did fall, Kim lifted her head and threw a glance around the living room. It was dark, save for the light spilling in from the kitchen, and she pulled the afghan tighter around her shoulders. Even though the extra layer made her too warm, she didn't throw it off. It smelled like her grandmother.
Sitting back in her green chair, she heaved a great sigh, reluctantly succumbing to the surrounding silence. Her run that morning had been more than necessary, and this time, she'd pushed herself further than she had on past routes. Not only with distance, but also with speed. Considering her run a few days ago, she knew she could be capable of so much more with this prosthetic, and she intended to push herself beyond the limits she'd previously set for herself. Amazingly, she'd even managed to get one small bounce in without completely crashing to the road. Steve would be glad to hear it, especially with how surprised he'd been during her brief demonstration last night.
But the instant she'd returned home, the relief from the exertion and sweat dripping from her skin had quickly vanished, the feeling of loneliness so painful that she wanted to just sink to the floor and cry. She knew she needed to be strong, but it was vastly different from having Steve or Stark, or anyone else she cared about there with her.
Rising from her green chair, she picked up her mug from the coffee table; her tea had gone cold some time ago. After rinsing and putting it in the dishwasher, she glanced at the microwave clock: 10:29 p.m. It was incredible how slowly time seemed to have been moving all day.
It wasn't long before Kim made her way through the sliding glass door, the air outside slightly cooler than it had been a few hours ago. Re-wrapping herself in the afghan, she stepped out into the grass, already feeling her chin start to quiver. Gazing up at the moon—now an ever-waning crescent set against an inky sky—didn't help matters.
Grandma taught me all about the moon, she reminded herself, inhaling sharply as the tears began to flow. Someday…I'll look up there and imagine she's watching over me…
With a heavy heart, she covered her mouth with one hand, catching her relentless sobs as she sank to her knees. She should have been cried out by now, but somehow, her tears just kept coming, forcing their way out regardless of how much she resisted; or how much her poor eyes burned from the sensation. It couldn't be stopped, and she lacked the strength to hold them back any longer. She'd experienced this before: the all too familiar feeling of hopelessness, like a burning ache in her chest. First, with Scotty's death, and then again with her parents...
Grandma, she wailed inside her mind, Grandma…It's only been a few days, and I already feel like I can't…I can't…She squeezed her eyes shut as the fiery pain intensified. God, Grandma, I need you! Sucking in a shaking breath, she continued to cry into her palm. I need you; I can't do this without you. I can't—
A twig snapped somewhere in the trees, and Kim jerked her head up, her tear-filled eyes immediately searching the shadows of the small woods. Though her heart was pounding rapidly, she hardly dared to breathe as she kept scanning those trees, wondering if her mind was playing cruel tricks on her, or—
Emerging from the darkness was the familiar form of Bucky—still in his cap and jacket—and the sight of him caused her shoulders sag and more hot tears to well in her eyes.
Bucky…
About halfway between her and the woods, he paused, lifting his face to silently lock eyes with her. Even in the dark of night, she could see the immense sorrow set deep within his features, the circles under his eyes a mere indication that he'd been carrying it with him for the past several days. A man in mourning over his the death of his sister, one of the last links he had to his former life. Seeing this had her hand reaching up to grasp onto his dog-tags, the tears now falling quietly down her cheeks.
Bucky, she sniffed. Bucky…you're here…
There were no words, not even when Bucky quietly raised his arms. And waited. His eyes never leaving hers.
Moonlight shone upon his metal palm. A shuddering breath passed through Kim's lips, and without another thought, she was on her feet, the afghan falling from her shoulders as she entered Bucky's embrace. His strong arms automatically enveloped her small frame, holding her close as she wept against his shoulder. At times, she could sense his metal arm adjusting around her, gauging the moments when he needed less pressure, as well as the times when he could tell she needed more. Such a thought touched her, and she turned her face into his chest so he could hold her closer still. He did so without question.
Kim released a shaky sigh. It didn't matter that he'd come into her life only a week ago, didn't matter how many tears she'd have to shed, didn't matter that it would take so much time for them to learn about and understand one another. All that mattered was that this man—her great-uncle, her blood, her family—had sought her out when they were both at their most vulnerable points, and wanted nothing more than to know her; be known by her; protect her. Remind her that no matter what hardships she faced in life…he would do everything in his power to make sure she never felt she had to face them alone.
I need…you, her mind whispered, arms tightening around his torso. Need you. I need you, Bucky.
"At ease, soldier."
She continued to cry, softly now, her heart expanding when she felt him lay his cheek upon her head, and the coolness of his metal hand cradling the back of her neck.