School is finally over! I know I promised to upload a new chapter during April, but finals week was stressful and I had a lot going on. I also got distracted a lot, which is entirely my fault but Minecraft and YouTube are so addicting. That being said, I finally wrote another chapter! Things are heating up in the Barnes' household.
Chapter Two: Missing in Action
At eighteen years old, turning nineteen in December, and fresh out of high school since May of 1943, Suzie realized that she knew very little about the real world. Nothing in her years of schooling ever prepared her for this. The valedictorian at her graduation, which Bucky missed along with Travis's graduation the year prior, had talked about the future and how their generation would change the world.
As if all meant anything. Suzie could have sworn that she had heard similar speeches at Bucky's graduation as well as Steve's and Travis's. Rebecca still had three years left of high school before she graduated. Suzie could bet that the valedictorian speech would sound similar. She had heard enough graduation speeches to realize that valedictorians lacked originality. Every motivational speech on the radio or in the newspapers sounded the same.
Last week, the newspaper discussed how planting a garden at home would support the war. Suzie's mom immediately started digging up the weeds in their overrun garden to prepare for spring. Suzie understood why the gardens would help with the short food supply, but she wanted to do more. She could not see why a Victory Garden could help feed the soldiers overseas. While they ate fresh vegetables and homecooked meals, the soldiers ate bland versions of something that passed as food.
Suzie could always do more. She wanted to do more. She did not want to sit and listen to people on the radio discuss the war while men died overseas. She did not want to stay at home, growing vegetables and babysitting Rebecca when Bucky faced Nazis, disease, and inclement weather. He traveled the world fighting a path through Europe while she sat at home making sure Travis came home every night after binge drinking. She kept Rebecca out of trouble while making sure Mrs. Barnes would not have a mental breakdown. She worked at the docks - well, she did before her boss fired her - and dealt with jerks daily. She listened to the radio and people commenting on the struggles of soldiers. The same people went on with their lives, living in comfort because they paid the government to prevent their sons and husbands from fighting overseas.
People were being hurt, lives were in danger, and the media treated it like a fictional story to boost their views and sell more newspapers. The people with money were pulling the strings behind the war and Suzie felt stuck and useless at home.
Suzie did not realize that she had been staring out the kitchen window until Travis waved a hand in front of her face.
"Earth to Suzie," Travis said, stabbing a small tomato off his plate and biting it. "You alive over there?"
Suzie turned her head to glare at Travis as Mrs. Barnes pursed her lips at Travis's choice of words.
"I'm ignoring your loud chewing," Suzie retorted before taking a sip of water. Travis never chewed with his mouth closed, even after countless reprimands from Mrs. Barnes.
Their supper did not fill her up as it used to do. Ever since the war started, food had been in short supply. Other people, the ones in charge and financing the war, did not suffer the same fate. The Barnes' garden would provide some fresh vegetables next fall, but now, they settled for the expensive, store-bought vegetables. The increase in food prices put a strain on the Barnes' finances. Suzie knew she needed to find another job after her boss fired her from the job at the docks. Travis and Mrs. Barnes could only earn a certain amount of money, and Rebecca had to focus on her education.
Sitting at the table across from Travis, Suzie stared down at her plate of mashed potatoes, cooked carrots, and a thin slice of chicken. At least it tasted better than what the soldiers ate. Before the damning letter containing Bucky's death, Bucky had written a letter complaining about the food. He called it more 'fit for pigs instead of humans.' The meat remained a mystery most of the time and the biscuits tasted like cardboard. Bucky always had a big appetite and ate anything he could find. However, he could only eat so many cardboard biscuits before complaining about the food.
A corner of Suzie's lips twitched up in a small smile. Bucky always voiced his opinions. If something bothered him, he made sure to let others know. She could only imagine what he said to the cooks on the frontlines. He probably gave them a stern talking-to and offered to cook better food himself.
"Something funny?" Travis asked, his voice pinched and annoyed. It seemed like any little thing set him off nowadays. The constant drinking could do that to someone. Normally, Travis enjoyed teasing Suzie and Rebecca, but his words were never mean. Now, he sounded rude and angry, his words slurring a bit from the alcohol. What a waste. Once hopeful about the future, Travis broke up with his girlfriend of three years, turned to drinking every night, and fought with Suzie at every available opportunity.
"Just thinking about how Bucky would probably offer to fight someone to eat what we're eating now instead of what the army serves," Suzie replied.
"Well, it doesn't matter. He's dead," Travis retorted.
"Travis!" Mrs. Barnes snapped. Rebecca, who sat across from their mom, slunk further into her seat and started blinking rapidly, a tell-tale sign of an impending breakdown.
"What?" Travis asked, spreading his arms wide and acting innocent. "It's the truth!"
"Is it?" Suzie questioned. "We never received anything of his. Not his dog tags, not his uniform - nothing. There is no proof that he's gone. He could be out there, waiting for help while we're sitting here eating burnt potatoes."
"It's war, Suzie! They can't bring back every dead body."
"Well, they should as hell try! They haven't done anything to confirm it. The letter barely mentions what happened. There's no evidence, and if there's even a small chance of him being alive, I would rather do something about it instead of sitting here acting like he's dead," Suzie snapped, her hands curling into fists. To her left, Rebecca whimpered and started rocking her chair.
Pissed off, Travis bounded to his feet, knocking his chair over that landed with a crash. Rebecca and Mrs. Barnes jumped at the sound, tears starting to fall from Rebecca's terrified eyes. Pounding his fists on the table, Travis shouted, "Why can't you get it through your thick skull that things like this happen and it's better to just accept the facts and move on instead of dwelling on it?!"
Anger bubbling up in her chest, Suzie mirrored Travis's motions, pushing her chair back and pointing an accusing finger at Travis. "Why in the hell did you give on him so easily?!"
"Because he's dead, Suzie, just like dad! He's gone and never coming back. That's war for you. It's not like you would understand. Real men understand that shit happens, something women are too damn emotional to comprehend."
"Too damn emotional?!" Suzie shouted. "At least I give a damn about Bucky! At least I'm trying to figure out how the hell I can help while soldiers are fighting for this damn country!"
Mrs. Barnes stood up, joining Travis and Suzie. Rebecca cowered in her chair, making herself as small as possible. "Watch your mouth, Suzannah! I already had enough of Bucky's constant swearing, and I don't want you repeating that. Sit down, both of you, and apologize. You're scaring your sister," Mrs. Barnes ordered sternly, her face tomato-red and her steel-blue eyes shining with unshed tears. "There are some things in life that neither of you understands yet. You are all young still and life is going to be difficult. The war has changed everyone and if we cannot move past Bucky's death, then our family is well and truly broken."
Suzie flinched back as if Mrs. Barnes had hit her. Sure, her mother swung a mean wooden spoon whenever Suzie or her siblings got in trouble, but that was usually deserved. Mrs. Barnes embodied the voice of reason and comfort in the family; however, her words stung, harder than any wooden spoon.
"Why are you giving up? We don't give up on family! We don't give up in general. Did Steve ever give up? Did he quit when life became too difficult to manage? Why can't any of you see that moving on is the same as surrendering and letting the enemy win?" Suzie questioned, her voice cracking.
"Everyone is at war, not just the soldiers. If the entire country decided to quit, millions of innocent people will die and everything Bucky has ever fought for will mean nothing."
With that, Suzie shoved her chair back into the table and stormed out of the small kitchen.
"Where do you think you are going?" Mrs. Barnes called after her. Rebecca's whimpers carried from the kitchen and Suzie could hear Travis cursing.
"To find Steve, because he's got more sense than all of you," Suzie shouted back, grabbing Bucky's borrowed jacket from the coat tree, and slamming the front door.
Walking to Steve's apartment, Suzie realized that she had not seen or heard from Steve for while. Two months after the letter arrived, it altered the Barnes' household dynamic and Suzie realized that none of them talked to Steve. None of them had even seen Steve since Bucky shipped out in June 1943.
Bucky and Steve were practically brothers. They went everywhere together, sometimes even letting Suzie, Travis, and Rebecca tag along. Where one went, the other followed. More often than not, either Bucky stayed over at Steve's apartment for the night or vice versa. Steve and his mother, Sarah, even joined family gatherings. The Rogers and Barnes families were close as close can be, something Suzie had known all her life.
Come to think of it, when Bucky left for basic training marked the longest time Steve and Bucky did not see each other. The army separated the dynamic duo. It tore Suzie apart to watch Bucky fade away on the ship when he left for Europe. Steve had joined them and stood staring at the sea long after Mrs. Barnes, Rebecca, and Travis went home. Suzie stayed until the sun set, but she bet Steve stood there like a statue for a long time after. Bucky wrote as often as he could, but it lacked the physical feeling of Bucky being there. His words could never replace his physical presence.
The news about Bucky must have really messed Steve up because none of the Barnes had heard from him. If Bucky's death did not shake her to her core, seeing Steve grieve would.
When Sarah died, Steve had holed himself up in his apartment and refused to interact with anyone. Bucky had to drag him around to force him to move and be social. Without Bucky around, Steve had no one to force him to leave his apartment.
The letter had completely shattered something inside Suzie but Bucky had been closer to Steve than any of the Barnes kids. If Suzie felt this awful, she could only imagine what Steve felt.
Suzie had to take Bucky's place, to talk to Steve and let him know that he was not alone - that they would not give up no matter the circumstances.
Trudging up the wooden steps to Steve's rundown apartment, Suzie hugged herself against the cold wind. The curtains hung closed in the window. Either Steve was not home or he was huddled up in his bedroom like a small, pale, asthmatic hobbit.
Suzie knocked on the door, waiting for the blonde hobbit to appear. She allowed a minute to pass before knocking again. No answer.
She tried twisting the door handle - locked.
Starting to feel a sense of worry, Suzie kicked away a loose brick on the porch that not-so-carefully hid a spare key. She unlocked the door, opened it, and stepped inside the dark, empty apartment.
The kitchen sink and counters stood on the right side of the front, the curtains on the window above it drawn closed. Tossing the spare key on the kitchen table to the left, she flicked on the light switch. None of the lights turned on.
Thinking that Steve forgot to pay his electrical bill, Suzie walked straight through the kitchen to slide open the curtains in the small living room. Dust swirled up at the motion and for the first time, Suzie realized how dust coated every surface.
Steve and Bucky were not the best at keeping their places dust-free but this looked ridiculous. It seemed like nobody had been here for months. Partnered with the smell of cigarette smoke from the neighbors on the floor below, the apartment needed a desperate cleaning. Mrs. Barnes would have a stroke if she saw this much dust. Well, at least the old version of Mrs. Barnes would lecture Steve about cleanliness. After the letter, the usual spotless Barnes household now bordered on being a tier down from the current state of Steve's apartment.
"Steve?" Suzie called, hoping that he sat in his desk chair in his bedroom to the left of the kitchen table, drawing his woes away.
No answer.
She checked the icebox and cupboards in the kitchen - all empty aside from a few cans of tomatoes that had been sitting there since Sarah's death. Void of Steve's jacket and the shoes that normally sat underneath, the coat tree guarded the front door like a lonely skeleton.
The door to Sarah's bedroom on the left of the living room stood closed. Nobody had been in there since Sarah's death a few years ago, but Suzie double-checked before exploring the bathroom connected to the living room. Both were empty. Steve's toothbrush, toothpaste, and hairbrush were all missing from the small sink in the bathroom. Not even a bar of soap occupied the soap dish.
Dust covered the bookshelves in the living room. A few sketches from Steve's art class hung on the wall above the armchair. The couch rested in front of the wall separating the bathroom and living room. The mural on that wall displayed the mountainside from Sarah's hometown in Ireland that Steve had painted several years before. Although beautiful and completely out of range of her capabilities, Suzie thought it needed a fresh coat of paint. The couch and armchair had not moved in years.
On the left side of the kitchen near the dining table, Suzie opened Steve's bedroom door. Dust floated in the air in a beam of sunlight that slipped through a crack in the curtains. On the right, the bedsheets fitted over the small mattress and bedframe. Art supplies sat scattered on the desk across from the door. A few paint stains covered the wooden desk and matching chair. More of Steve's artwork hung on the wall above the desk. Feeling guilty for snooping in Steve's apartment, Suzie slid open the drawers in the wooden dresser on the opposite side of the bed. Most of the drawers still contained Steve's meticulously folded clothes.
Suzie let a small smile tug at her lips. Bucky never folded his own clothes, preferring to toss them on his desk or chair at home. On the other hand, like a true artist, Steve folded his shirts in perfect rectangles. Not even being colorblind prevented Steve from sorting the shirts by color.
Noticing the empty spot next to the dresser where Steve usually kept his overnight bag for sleepovers or traveling, Suzie slid the drawer shut. Why would Steve take his suitcase without telling anyone where he went?
He must have left by his own accord, thank goodness. However, Suzie could not stop the images of Steve lying in an alleyway, either dead or hurt. None of the newspapers mentioned a small blonde man being attacked or killed, which alleviated some of the worries.
Even so, he still might need help. What if someone attacked him and dumped his body in the Hudson? What if he wandered off and had an asthma attack? What if someone broke into the apartment, took some of his clothes and suitcase to make it look like Steve left on his own, and kidnapped him? What if Steve enlisted in the army, lying dead on a battlefield somewhere overseas?
"Steve, I swear, if you're dead, Imma kill you," Suzie muttered out loud as she closed the bedroom door. It was not like him, to leave suddenly without telling someone. Then again, he had lost his best friend. People grieve in their own ways, but Steve's sudden disappearance was concerning, to say the least.
Figuring that Steve would not return anytime soon, Suzie decided to investigate his usual haunts. The cool November air bit at her exposed face as she walked to the post office to see if he still received mail. The electric company probably tried to let him know about his overdue electric bill since the apartment lacked power. He had other bills to pay, too. Yet, there were no signs of him being evicted for not paying rent or other bills since most of his belongings still remained in the apartment.
Why would he leave without telling anyone? Why would he still pay his bills if he did not live there for months? Did he plan on returning soon - if, or when, he came back?
Moon Knight is officially in the top three of my favorite Marvel shows. Dr. Strange MoM blew my mind, like a certain character. (That was a bad joke, I'm sorry, but I had to). I don't know when I will write the next chapter. I'm going to Texas this week for my cousin's graduation and I'm starting to work during the week for the summer soon. Either way, more action is on the way. If you already read the original version of this story before the rewrite, you probably already know what's coming. Feel free to leave a review, and have a wonderful day! :)