It’s Been A Long Time: Sneak Peek
From his spot in the middle of his entire world, he stared longingly at the bottom step of the porch, almost memorizing it in so many different ways. Life had taught him that there were few constants that could be depended on to tell the time — not even time itself anymore. There was simply too much of it. Too much disjointed, jagged-ended, snipped and chopped and sewn back together time.
The bottom step where a dandelion had busy for some weeks making honest work of sprouting up through the crack. The lady who lived at number 44 and said ‘good morning’ before catching the 8.02 bus into town. The wrinkles on the back of his hands; how they had seemed to deepen and spread since Peggy- well. Since Peggy had passed. These methods proved a far more reliable and earnest way of keeping track of things. They grounded Steve’s world in something real, something joyously and painfully lived. And to live—really, really live—now that was something, Steve thought without an ounce of resentment in his heart.
“Hello you,” a voice said calm and quiet, the shape of it warm and gravelly and all so familiar — a voice lost to time and yet never, not for one moment, forgotten. “So… this is where heroes go when there’s no more wars to fight, huh?”
There should be a sense of urgent excitement. A whip of the neck. A widening of the eyes. A rush of hands and bodies colliding and questions uttered so quickly that they crash and overlap one another. In the void of these things exists only calmness, only subdued amusement, because of course, of course that shaggy haired boy would find him someway or somehow.
“Hey Bucky. It’s been a while,” Steve said, a small quirk finding the corner of his mouth as he shuffled across to make room on the porch step.
He catches a glimpse of Bucky but denies himself the pleasure of the unabridged view. He’s a shaggy haired boy no more, those days have passed for both of them. Bucky’s older now, silver haired and a little shy of fifty, maybe even sixty if life has been exceptionally good to him. There are new scars, a bullet graze on his bicep, and Steve will hear the long version of every last one of his war wounds like punctuation marks that bridge the gap between them from one encounter to the next. For now, the dandelion is unfurling through the crack, and Steve consumes himself with the sight of it.
“So, you chose the girl?” Bucky sighed and crossed his ankles, unresentful about it.
“Isn’t that what all heroes do in the end?” Steve scoffed slightly and fiddled with his hands.
“Not you,” Steve agreed and nodded his head. “Did you find a little happiness at least?”
It makes Bucky laugh softly, almost. His voice is a deep thunderous storm, a fistful of gravel, a hot smouldering crackle of fire, and yet somehow he laughs gently. It’s new and strange. It suits him, Steve thinks. It reminds him of youth and boyhood, of wars that were fought with sticks and twigs, where the only casualties were scraped knees and bruised egos. Still, he cannot look at anything other than little dandelions doing their best.
Bucky doesn’t answer. “Were you happy?” he asks instead.
“She was a good wife, even on our worst days we were good to each other, kind to each other. Peggy was a good wife,” Steve insists pridefully, always the good honourable man. “I think we knew happiness, yes.”
“I’m glad, buddy.” A calloused palm finds Steve’s shoulder and squeezes tight. “Should I grab us a couple of cold ones?”
Steve nodded and finally looked at him, really looked at him. There he was. That shaggy haired, overbearing, lion-hearted man… there he finally was. The scrag on his chin had grown into something that resembled a silver-speckled beard, and his eyes were filled with wars that Steve would have to drag out of him the hard way around, but his tender, soft-hearted, worrier of all things was under there somewhere, still.
“Something tells me you’re going to be staying a while.” Steve weakly smiled, an apology of sorts for the loneliness he had put in both of their hearts. “I’ll put sheets in the guest bedroom.”
“Don’t,” Bucky whispered instantly.
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