Chapter Text
The waves were rushing softly in the background, a mild breeze cooling down the hot August air. It felt a lot fresher up here than in the city. Calming and pleasant, Steve thought, idyllic even.
The house was just a few miles north-east of Southampton on a long stretch of white sand. It was older and a lot smaller than many of the stately mansions around it; more of a cottage, with white-framed windows, wood painted in a soft shade of peach, and a veranda going all the way around it where Steve was currently sitting at a small table in one of the two deck chairs.
He had a large glass of iced tea in front of him, and he took a sip, letting the cool, refreshing drink wash down the tingling of nervous anticipation in his throat.
“Good thing I just made a fresh jug before you got here. Charlie really could have told me that you were visiting, but I guess he didn’t want to spoil the surprise. And what a nice one it is.”
“I guess so,” Steve replied and gave the woman sitting across from him a smile. “I hadn’t even thought about anyone else but you picking up the phone when I called. I hope it wasn’t too short notice.”
She let out a small laugh and made a waving motion with her hand. “Oh no, not at all. I’m just so, so glad you came. It’s so good to see you, Steve. Really, you have no idea.” Her smile was warm and her grey-blue eyes were shining as she regarded him as if she was unable to draw them from him.
“I suppose this is the part where I apologise for not reaching out sooner,” Steve confessed, a jab of guilt in his middle that was chased away immediately by another wave of her hand and a chuckle.
“Think nothing of it. I’m sure everything was really overwhelming when you came back, and you were busy saving the world most of the time. Catching up with your best friend’s little sister probably wasn’t on top of your priority list.”
It probably should have been, Steve thought, but there was nothing to be done about that now. And the main reason he was here for, this time, would surely make up for any previously missed opportunities.
They had made it to Anne’s house a several days later than initially intended. After the first few days that Bucky had been back home - filled with bliss and all the pleasures Steve had only ever dreamed of - real life had caught up with them. There had been meetings with Agent Anderson and other CIA officials, and even a second encounter with the President himself. It had cost Bucky a lot of energy, drained him of the positivity he had soaked up in those first days, and it had resulted in sleep disturbed by nightmares and a panic attack that had left Steve helpless except for calling Deborah first thing in the morning and scheduling a session the very same day.
Despite every little setback and hardship and Steve’s own inability to take all that away from Bucky, he observed with a deep sense of pride how well Bucky was handling it all now. How he didn’t let himself give up, and how he asked for and took what he required to deal with everything better and better.
What was more, Bucky believed in himself now, even if not always to the full extent he should, but he did. And eventually, he had felt well and confident enough to have Steve call Anne to come see her.
“So, Charlie, is he your youngest?” Steve asked, not yet knowing how to break the small talk and get to the point: that Anne’s brother was waiting just around the corner.
“Yes. He’ll be forty-eight this fall. My oldest son is James, he’s fifty-nine. Steven turned fifty-five last month, and--”
“You named your second son Steven?”
Anne chuckled and shrugged faintly, a mix of warmth and mischief in her eyes. “Of course I did. And he’s damn proud of having been named after Captain America, too.”
Steve had to smile at that, averting his eyes for a moment and finding no response.
So Anne continued. “My third is Maddie, my only daughter. She’s had her fiftieth birthday last year. Then there are my grandchildren. You’ve already met Sean and Ally, but I’ve got five more and one great-granddaughter. I can show you some pictures if you like.”
Steve would have loved to say yes, but he already felt bad about Bucky, sitting on a bench at the beach for so long, waiting for Steve’s text message. They had talked about how to approach this moment. Simply turning up at her doorstep and surprising her with the sight of her long assumed dead brother had been crossed from the list of possibilities instantly. Even if she weren’t eighty-seven years old and might suffer a heart attack from such a shocking revelation, it was something that needed to be done more gently.
Charles, who was spending a few weeks at his mother’s beach house with his wife and kids, had been filled in over the phone. It had seemed the most prudent approach, and the shock wasn’t nearly as big for him as it would be for his mother since he only knew his uncle Bucky from photographs and stories. It had been he who suggested that Steve talk to Anne first as Bucky waited outside, a dune with bushes and high reeds hiding him from their view from the veranda. As soon as Steve sent him the text message it would take him no more than a few seconds to reach them.
Steve could only imagine how nervous and impatient he must feel right now.
“I’d love to, but there’s something else I want to talk to you about, first,” Steve started.
Anne’s brows rose slightly and she propped her head on the back of her hand, elbow on the table as she leaned in. “Yes?”
Steve tried to conceal the deep breath he was taking behind a smile as he was getting ready for the words he had prepared in his mind and gone over several times, unsure if he had picked the right version. There was only one way to find out.
“You remember how Bucky was captured for a while during the war?” he asked, and Anne nodded, her cheerful gaze turning more sombre immediately.
“Well, there was something they did back then that was similar to what the SSR did with me. A serum that should make him stronger and improve his healing abilities. We never knew for sure, back then, but apparently it had worked. And…” This was just as difficult as he had thought, trying to get the information across as completely as he needed to but also as quickly as possible so not to agitate her in any way, should she draw the wrong conclusions.
He could see that dozens of scenarios and questions were going through her head already, of experiments that had been done to her brother, maybe of news that had no purpose to her other than opening old wounds. But there was something hopeful in her eyes as well, something that Steve thought, hoped, he was radiating.
“When I crashed into the Arctic I should have died, Anne. Any other person would have, but the serum made me survive all those years in the ice,” he continued, a soft smile on his lips as he held the gaze of her widening eyes. “Turns out I wasn’t the only one to have such a miracle happen to them.”
Steve could see how she was following his words closely, her brow furrowing the more he spoke. “Not the only one?”
“No,” he replied, and, taking a deep breath, added, “your brother too.”
A faint gasp came over her lips before she covered her mouth with one hand, fingers visibly trembling, and her eyes were wet with unshed tears. “Bucky? He’s… he’s alive?”
Steve’s throat felt tight, his own eyes stinging, but there was a wide, warm feeling stretching in his chest. “Yes, he’s alive, Anne.”
Another sound left her, a sob of clear and overwhelming joy, and her hands were still trembling, her chest heaving against the strain of catching an even breath between her tears. “Oh my God. Oh God. He’s alive… Where is he? Is he okay?” she asked, as she swallowed and wiped the tears from her eyes.
Steve took the time to quickly send the message from his phone.
“He’s okay. And… he’s here,” Steve replied, a smile spreading on his lips and his heart swelling with emotion as he watched her.
“Oh God. You, you had to break it to me slowly,” she half laughed, half sobbed as she gazed around, back into the house and towards the beach again.
And sure enough, a shape rounded the dune, dark against the bright sunlight of the early afternoon. Anne was on her feet, and, if it weren’t for the bun of silvery grey hair, nothing in her gait would have betrayed her old age as she hurried towards her brother who was only a few yards away.
Steve could see that Bucky’s steps faltered, slowed, and there were so many emotions on his face as he stared at his sister, wide eyes and - not afraid, but overwhelmed, and tentatively hopeful. Her hand had come up to cover her mouth, and then she reached out slowly, like he could dissolve under her touch like a memory, like a dream.
Bucky swallowed, and she must have said something to him because Steve could see him reply, the words swallowed by the distant sounds of the waves rolling up on the shore. Her hands cradled his face and his eyes drifted shut, happiness breaking over his expression like sunlight through a cloud.
Steve could not stop watching, even though he felt a bit like an intruder. He was sure they wouldn’t mind, but the moment between them was something so special, and very different from how he had met Bucky again after what wasn’t nearly as long for him as for Anne.
He could hear another sob paired with a laugh coming from Anne as she wrapped her arms around Bucky to pull him close, and for a short moment it was almost like a déjà-vu from times long gone, a girl with ribbons in her long dark hair and the same adoration in the way she hugged her brother.
Steve didn’t keep time while he watched, but he was sure they stood there for quite a few minutes, unmoving, just holding each other. Sometimes a couple of words were being exchanged and eventually, finally, Anne drew back to just look at him again.
They came back towards Steve eventually, but she neither seemed to want to let go of his right hand she’d reached for, nor to look away from him at all. And when they were close enough, Steve could finally distinguish her words again, the disbelieving happiness in her voice.
“I never thought - I’m so glad, so happy to see you, Bucky, I’m so glad you came.”
The way he was smiling, the shy but all-encompassing happiness, was something Steve was sure he’d never forget.
“Me too, Annie…”
Steve didn’t know what to say even if he had wanted to. Instead, he just looked at them both, a smile on his lips and a nod towards Bucky while he was sure his own eyes must be glistening, too.
“God,” Anne sighed again, shaking her head in joyful disbelief. “There’s so much I want to ask and say. I don’t even know where to start.”
“Well, the good thing is you two have plenty of time for that now,” Steve said, still watching the expression on Bucky’s face.
“You can ask anything you want,” he muttered quietly to his sister now, offering her this despite how nervous Steve knew he was about talking about some aspects of his past. It had been one of Bucky’s biggest worries leading up to this.
New tears spilled into Anne’s eyes, though the radiant smile never left her lips. She shook her head again, shrugging more to herself than to Bucky. Then, her gaze drifted lower as her second hand reached out to grasp Bucky’s other but withdrew the second her eyes fully took in the metal visible below the cuff of his long-sleeved shirt. “Bucky, your hand. You… oh. Oh!”
She covered her mouth with one hand, but the other didn’t let go of Bucky’s right. There was nothing of the disgust Steve knew Bucky had been fearing on her features, either. Shock, undeniably, but also compassion. “Oh, Bucky,” she said gently. “How… How about we just start by catching up? Charlie and Kate should be back soon with the kids. You can meet one of your nephews. Who looks twice your age.”
“Really?”
He looked unsure now, thrown a little by her obvious recognition of the metal arm, and if Steve knew him well - and he did know him well - he hadn’t expected to be invited anywhere near her kids after this. And so far, Charles didn’t know Bucky’s full story, either.
“I - Only if that’s alright with you, if they’d all be okay with this…”
“Oh, of course. Bucky, of course!” Anne let her fingers rest on his cheek again, caressing the side of his face gently. “Of course they’re gonna want to meet you. You’re family.”
Bucky turned his head into her caress instantly, instinctively, like he was still hungry for every kind of gentle touch, like it was such unimaginable relief for him.
“I… Annie…” He let out a breath and swallowed. “I missed you so much.”
“And I you. God, Bucky, I thought I’d never see you again,” she sobbed out and buried her face against his shoulder, laughing through her tears.
The sound of the front door made Steve turn his head, and a second later, a little girl’s voice could be heard through the house. “Grandma? We’re back!”
“Come,” Anne said, wiping her tears once more. “Let’s get inside and meet them. And then we’ll have something special for dinner. This is a day to celebrate, after all. And for everything else, like Steve said, we’ve got all the time in the world. You don’t need to tell me everything now.”
“Thank you,” Bucky replied quietly, but the smile on his face was back, the hopeful, grateful one, the one that still betrayed sometimes that he couldn’t believe he should have this, that he deserved it somehow.
He looked back at Steve then, and there was so much warmth, so much love there that it shone all over his face.
Bucky did deserve this, this and so much more, anything Steve could give him and help him get. After all the hardships of the past, Steve drank in the sight of Bucky being happy and was happy for him. With him.
And Steve found that he deserved that too.