Pairings/Characters: Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Steve/Bucky
Fandom: The Avengers IV: Endgame (2019)
Genres: Drama, Fix-It, A Touch Of Humor
Spoilers: For The Avengers IV: Endgame (2019)
Summary: Can lost history be found?
Date Of Completion: May 6, 2019
Date Of Posting: May 11, 2019
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Marvel and Disney do, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 896
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author's Note: Yep, it's a fix-it! :)
Crushed and frozen,
But given back,
Color and sound,
We’ve lived full lives,
Created new archives.
Pepper Potts Stark
"The Past Is Ours Again"
It was cool here in the glade, sunshine dappling the sweet, green grass. Makes me think of home.
I watched Bruce checking the time machine. The Bruce/Hulk hybrid look still threw me a little, but the guy seemed happy. After all he’s been through, who can begrudge him that?
We gotta grab happy where we can.
I thought of Tony and Natasha, both gone. The wounds of their sacrifices were still fresh. I felt an ache in my forearm and rubbed it, feeling lucky that I escaped the latest battle with only some nicks and bruises. War was always costly, but Thanos had met a fitting end, blowing away into dust after Tony had snapped him out of existence.
Steve and Bucky approached, Steve carrying the shield and stones while Bucky carried his crossbow.
Steve stepped up onto the platform. “Can you recalibrate?”
Bruce frowned. “For what?”
Steve held out his hand toward Bucky, who took his hand and stepped up onto the platform.
“The two of you?” I asked. “Need someone to ride shotgun?”
“I need you here just in case,” Steve said.
By now I was good at reading Steve Rogers. He was saying there was no one he trusted more, and he and Bucky wanted some alone time together. I was good with both sentiments, proud of Steve’s trust in me, and understood the depth of Steve and Bucky’s love for each other.
Steve smiled at the brevity of my speech, and I could see the approval in Bucky’s eyes. Steve had told me that Bucky had been a silver-tongued charmer before the war, but his terrible experiences with HYDRA had changed all that. HYDRA didn’t like chatty assassins.
Steve and Bucky readied themselves for the transfer. I suddenly felt uneasy, almost shouting, “Stop!” but stayed silent as Bruce threw the switch.
Steve and Bucky were gone.
Bruce counted, “1…2…3…4…5…” He hit the switch again.
Bruce looked a little panicky. Not good.
“Umm, let me just…”
He hastily worked on the machine as I started to feel panicky myself. Damn! This thing was way too wonky! Why did we trust it? It was like the transporter on the Enterprise, for cryin’ out loud.
Bruce looked up in despair but froze. He slowly pointed a big, green finger and I turned.
Sitting on a log were two figures, both a little stoop-shouldered, looking out at the lake. I knew…shaking my head, I trudged over to the log.
They turned to look at me, two elderly men holding hands.
Steve smiled slightly while Bucky looked amused. His hair was short and I swore he was laughing inside. Wiseass.
“Hi, Sam,” said Steve.
I crossed my arms. “So, it go well?”
Steve nodded. “We lived the history that was stolen from us. We lived the Cold War, Korea, the civil rights movement, the New Frontier, what came after…”
“Groovy, man,” said Bucky.
“We went to Woodstock and Bucky grew his hair long again.” Steve inclined his head as if to say, This one insisted. “The music was pretty good,” he said dryly.
I laughed. Somehow I couldn’t picture Steve dropping acid.
“Just marijuana,” Steve said. “Nothing else.”
Is he mind-reading now?
It was still mind-blowing to think of Steve and Bucky at the festival of Peace and Love playing hippy-dippy.
“The serum started losing potency in the ‘80s,” Steve said. “For both Bucky and me.”
"That was quite a bit of alone time together."
It was quiet here by the lake, Bruce keeping a respectful distance. A cardinal sang its song as a light breeze nudged us while the lake rippled.
I noticed the shield resting against the log. Steve picked it up and held it out to me.
“Steve, I can’t…”
“Yes, you can. I can’t think of anyone better.”
I stared down at the gleaming shield, a heavy weight hovering over me. Once I took that shield, that weight would settle onto my shoulders. Could I handle it?
Steve’s grip was steady. I took a deep breath and grasped it, excitement mixing with dread. For a moment both our hands held the shield, then Steve let go. His eyes were shining.
I hefted the shield: solid but surprisingly light. I was going to need practice with throwing this thing. Would the Avengers Compound be rebuilt? And who would be part of the team now? Would Rhodey and Wanda continue? Scott would most likely accept an invitation, and Hope, too. Bruce was too settled into his new life, though he might accept an auxiliary role. Clint was definitely out. Could there be someone else out there willing to sign on?
I noticed Steve’s big smile as he chuckled. “What?”
“You’re already planning the roster, aren’t you?”
I could feel a flush heat my cheeks. “Yeah, so?” I put my arm through the straps of the shield. “Just remember, guys, marijuana still isn’t legal in New York, even in the 21st century.”
“It is in Massachusetts. Not too long a ride,” Steve said.
I shook my head and laughed. “Groovy, man,” as Bucky did a thumbs-up and Steve grinned.
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