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"Go ahead, open it!"
Bucky smiled with a glint in his eye as he took the thin package wrapped in plain brown paper and tied up with twine. He pulled loose the string then carefully removed the tape from the edges of the paper and removed it, keeping it intact by habit.
Behind the wrapping lay the stack of five Popular Science magazines from recent months that had been hard to come by for the past while, the money that Bucky might’ve put towards them going to more important matters instead. But, Steve was happy to make an exception this month, using the dollar he’d managed to make selling his sketches on the street to buy something that Bucky wanted for once instead of the other way around.
Steve reveled in the wide-eyed look of shock and awe that lit up his friend's face, knowing instantly that his efforts had been worthwhile. "No way," Bucky breathed, turning his elated gaze back up to him. "You- You really didn't have to, Stevie--"
Steve cut him off with a modest shake of his head. "It's nothing, Buck. Really."
That was an understatement and they both knew it, but neither of them wanted to undercut the value of this moment.
Bucky clutched the magazines to his chest, grinning from ear to ear at the gift. “Thank you, Steve. I mean it. Thank you.”
~~~
Steve stood at the window in his floor at the Avengers Tower, gazing out in silence at the New York City that had changed so much since he had last known it. Gray morning light washed over the rooms, giving the space a sterile feeling and reflecting his inner gloom.
It had been just over ten months since the Battle of New York with the alien army, and only two weeks longer than that since the supersoldier had come around from being thawed from the frozen ocean. He hadn’t had much time to adapt to suddenly waking up sixty-seven years in the future to a world without a war (what with an army from outer space menacing the biggest city in America), and since then, trying to cope with his losses had kind of taken a backseat in his mind as he now faced a multitude of gains in the form of the Avengers and his new life leading them and working with S.H.I.E.L.D. This wasn’t to say, of course, that this new team replaced his old one. No, it definitely wasn’t that. The Avengers just sort of… distracted him, from everything he no longer had.
But, they couldn’t today. Nor did he really want them to, instead shutting himself up in his room to process his thoughts, to actually take the time to think about it. He didn’t entirely welcome the ache that settled deep inside him, but he didn’t really try to push it away either.
Steve knew he owed him that much. If he couldn't have saved him, the least he could do is remember him.
Even if that meant coming to terms with how much it hurt.
He drew in a shaky breath, the action absently bringing up the feeling of Bucky's hand on his back whenever he couldn't get air into his lungs quite right. He closed his eyes for a moment, almost even hearing his old friend's voice hovering over his left ear, coaching him and encouraging him through yet another asthma attack.
“--just in and out, Stevie, com’on--”
In and out. He released his breath and opened his eyes, his gaze wandering back out to the window, though he didn't really focus on the scenery before him as his head kept him busy. He remembered, after Project Rebirth, after pulling Bucky from that horrible table in that horrible factory, after eventually being able to fall back into their beat-- given time-- he remembered Bucky idly commenting that Steve didn't need him anymore, not now that he was better and everything was fixed.
"I'll always need you," he'd responded, meaning every word.
I still need you, he thought, now facing a future without his friend.
Steve jolted out of his thoughts at the sound of his coffee maker alerting him to its finished job, pushing away from the wall where he leaned near the window and heading into the kitchen. The cold silence of the morning lay thick over him as he took his coffee, an empty mug clutched in his other hand.
He numbly made his way over to the table steeped in the light filtering through the window, sitting carefully down in one of the seats. He reached over and set the empty mug upside down on the space on the table opposite him with the dull clink of ceramic.
He held his own mug in his hands for a few long minutes, just letting the warmth seep into his skin as thoughts flitted through his head with the feeling of slow molasses and achy detachment and dreadful longing. Eventually he brought his cup up to his lips to take a sip, the coffee tasting almost like he had known it. Coffee nowadays was too sweet, the taste of it only yet another reminder of all the change in the world he had missed, the comments and questions on why he liked it so bitter doing nothing to help the situation.
It wasn't entirely unlike the mug sitting upside down across from him on the table.
That, however, that served as an intentional and active reminder of what he was missing. A friend who had moved on to the next life, a brother who had sacrificed himself for him, a piece of him that was no longer there.
But he would sooner rather let HYDRA come back from the dead than let himself forget his friend who had sacrificed so much for him, even up to the sacrifice of his own life. It didn't matter how much it hurt to see what he no longer had, it was so important that he keep Bucky's memory alive even though the man himself no longer could have the same treatment. Steve just hoped to God that heaven was taking good care of his friend. He hoped that his life of selflessness was giving him all that he deserved and more in death. He hoped that his friend knew how much he loved him and missed him, he hoped he knew that he was being remembered.
The mug sat upside down across from him.
Steve took another slow sip from his cup.
"...Happy birthday, Buck."