Steve sits on the edge of the bed and watches him for a moment, idly wondering who is left in SJ’s universe now he’s here. Will SJ’s Bucky be okay without him there? God, he hopes so.
He quietly gets to his feet and reaches for his suit, pulling it back on and ignoring the tang of blood he can still smell. He does it up fully, smoothing his hand over the white star on his chest, feeling a fierce rush of pride flicker through him. Whatever happens to him, he went down whilst fighting in uniform, in the blue of Captain America, and he won’t regret that, not now, not ever.
He leaves SJ asleep and leaves the room, debating for a second before deciding to go back down to the impromptu lounge, maybe find someone to talk to, to discuss their options and what they can do about this entire situation. As he descends the stairs, hand on the warm wooden bannister, he half heartedly hopes that there’s no new Steve’s to contend with.
He’s in luck. The only people present are Stephanie and Brooklyn, and he’s relieved that it’s people he doesn’t have to be reintroduced to. They’re both sat on the floor, a chessboard between them and looks of identical concentration on their faces.
“Morning,” Stephanie says without looking up, evidently having heard him come in. Brooklyn looks up, distracted, and gives him a sort-of-wave.
“Still here then,” he says, and Steve nods, walking over and perching on the edge of the couch just behind Stephanie.
“Still here,” he confirms. The fingers of his right hand drift towards his left wrist, pressing gently against the skin. “Still alive.”
Stephanie glances up at that, her eyes flicking to where his fingers are on his pulse point. “No pain anywhere?” she asks. “Has anyone actually asked you how you are, or were we too distracted by the fact you’re still alive?”
“Aching,” Steve admits. “Like I got beaten up by a robot.”
Her mouth twitches. “Funny, that,” she says, perfectly deadpan, and Steve can’t help be fascinated by the way she’s so obviously one of them, even though she’s a woman. She’s well-built and clearly as strong as he is; tall with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. She’s less curvy than Natasha is, but her figure is definitely more feminine than masculine, despite her strength and build.
He watches as she pulls at her bottom lip with her thumb and forefinger and then reaches down to decisively move a rook two spaces left.
“Damn, thought you hadn’t thought of that,” Brooklyn says, sounding grudgingly impressed. “Plan B it is then.”
“You’re only on plan B?” Stephanie asks, and Brooklyn pulls a face.
“Technically, possibly plan H by now.”
Stephanie smiles at that, watching Brooklyn as he thinks. “So,” she says, and Steve knows she’s talking to him. “I guess I should say sorry for dropping a bomb on you yesterday, huh?”
Steve feels his stomach clench at the reminder. “Yeah, kinda,” he says awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. “I just...”
“Can’t even comprehend how a version of you ended up with Tony?” she fills in bluntly, and he nods. “Well, if it helps, I hated him when I first met him.”
“You did?” Steve asks despite himself, surprised by the admittance.
“Oh yeah,” Stephanie says. “He was too loud, too obnoxious, too much. Throwing his weight around, switching from being patronising to demanding and back again in the space of a damn minute.”
“I know that feeling,” Steve mutters, and she laughs.
“Sounds like your version had the same effect on you as mine did on me,” she says. “But then I also had to deal with his pathological need to flirt with every woman he came into contact with. I didn’t find him remotely amusing to begin with, told him to back off on more than one occasion. Felt like he wasn’t taking me seriously.”
Wincing, Steve nods. “Because you were a woman?”
Stephanie pauses. “At first I thought that,” she admits. “But then I saw how he respected Natalia, how he trusted her to get the job done.” Her mouth curves in an almost smile. “The way he was quite clearly shit-scared of her. Then it became less about the fact I was a woman, and more about the entire Captain America thing. It was like the flirting was just another way of poking fun, an opportunity he took advantage of rather than being because he was genuinely being chauvinistic.”
“Yeah, I still don’t know how he feels about that, the whole Captain America thing,” Steve says. “Some days he treats me like a joke, and others it’s…”
“Proud, eager, wants to fight with you, wants to be on your team?” she fills in, and once again she’s right on the mark. “Like he’s your best friend.”
Steve laughs shortly, nodding. “Yeah. Exactly that.”
Brooklyn whistles between his teeth as he finally makes his move, nudging a pawn forwards a space. “Sounds like a swell guy.”
Stephanie shoots him a look that’s half admonishing, half amused. “Things change, you know that.”
It’s on the tip of Steve's tongue to ask how and why it all changed between her and Tony, but the look on her face kills the curiosity dead. She’s still almost-smiling and her eyes are warm and bright, for once not overwhelmed by the sadness he saw before. God, it’s thinking about Tony Stark that has put that look on her face, despite all the shit she just said about him being a complete and utter ass to her. It just makes no sense
“Steve!”
Thankfully, he’s saved from the conversation as SJ runs into the room, almost tripping over the threshold as he does. He manages to right himself with a small amount of flailing, and Jesus, was he really that uncoordinated before the serum? SJ just grins at him, scrambling up onto the sofa and then sitting up on the back of it, his feet pressed into the cushions.
“You didn’t wake me up,” he complains, wide blue eyes turned on Steve.
“I didn’t know I was supposed to,” Steve replies, and SJ scrunches up his nose, pulling a disgruntled face.
“Bucky never used to wake me up,” he grouches. “Always said I had to sleep. He’d stay with me when it was too cold, but sometimes he wasn’t meant to because I was sick and Sister Marie said he’d be a rotten patient if he caught it too.”
“Yeah?” Steve asks, happy to hear and reminisce about Bucky and keen for the conversation to be steered away from Tony as much as possible.
“He wouldn’t ever listen,” SJ says ruefully, and Steve chokes back a laugh because that’s probably exactly what his face looked like whenever he was thinking or saying Bucky, no.
“Damn right he never did,” Brooklyn says, eyes still on the chessboard. “But he said the same about me, so go figure.”
“Once he had to sneak out of the window,” SJ says, nudging Steve with his knee. “Sister Maria was looking for him, and he climbed out of the window to hide, and I had to lie and say he was in the bathroom but she saw his fingers over the edge of the windowsill.” SJ holds his hands up with his fingers curled over, demonstrating how Bucky must have been clinging onto the ledge. “She hauled him in and gave him a hiding, and then told him off for making me lie.”
Steve laughs at that, sitting back on the sofa. “Bucky was always good at finding trouble,” he agrees, and SJ grins at him.
“Bucky says that I’m the one who finds trouble, he just has to deal with it,” he says, and Steve is chuckling until SJ abruptly changes topic and asks, “Do you miss your friends back in your universe yet?”
Steve pauses, looks up. Stephanie has her attention focussed on the chess board but there’s next to no chance that she’s not listening.
“Yes,” he says. “I do miss them.”
SJ nods. “You probably miss Tony a lot, right?”
Steve falters, the words hitting him like a smack in the mouth. For a moment he wonders why SJ is singling out Tony to ask about, but then it dawns on him; if he hangs around Stephanie and Seven who ended up marrying Tony, then there’s a pretty damn high probability that he’s heard a fair bit about him.
“A bit,” he says shortly, which is probably the truth. Despite spending hours pondering over the multi-verse’s answers to the relationship between him and Tony, he still can’t exactly pinpoint how he feels about his Tony. Who isn’t his Tony, most definitely not.
SJ notices his pause. “Did you fight with him?”
Steve breathes out, rubbing his eyebrow with his thumb and staring down at the chessboard. “Yeah,” he opts for saying. “But it’s okay. When I get back we can sort it out.”
SJ nods slowly, though he doesn’t look entirely convinced. “If you actually properly die, will you stay here?”
Steve grimaces. “Hadn’t thought about it,” he says honestly, and now he’s probably not going to think about anything else in the near future. Great.
“SJ, stop badgering him,” a voice says, and Steve looks up to see the Commander walking over. “Go and find the rest of the younglings. We’re having a meeting.”
