Chapter Text
Bucky woke to a strange environment, heart clenching with a moment of panic. The appointments around him were sumptuous. The bedsheets upon which he rested were expensive. No one was beside him, and he felt a strange sense of disappointment, as though there should be someone resting there who wasn't. Solid weight on his hand brought his attention to an engagement and wedding ring.
He sat up. On the nightstand beside him, he found a remote control. His own handwriting instructed him to “turn on the television and press play.” Not wanting to disobey his own instructions, he did. The screen flared to life. Happy music started playing.
A message appeared on the screen that read, “Everything is going to be okay... but here are a few things you missed this year.” Short snippets of various important events from the past year followed: Bernie Sanders being inaugurated followed by the word “Kidding!” A picture of a Cheetos with Trump's face attached taking the oath of office. Then, the words “Not kidding.” There were photos of the Women's March from around the World, the bombing of the Manchester Ariana Grande concert, scenes from the March for Science, and photos of the reconstruction of New York.
More snippets came after. Photos showed Bucky kissing a blond man slipping a ring onto Bucky's finger and following it with a kiss. A wedding on Bucky's twenty-first birthday. At least he'd been able to drink at his own reception!
He paused the video there, and good lord, he looked so ridiculously happy.
Grinning, he touched the screen and murmured, “Steve.” Then came a flash of memories filled with laughter and golden hair and eyes that weren't so sad anymore, a life lived together.
Back on the screen, he pushed play to watch himself and his husband in the cockpit of... The Captain America, his brain supplied. There was video footage of them playing guitar together, footage of Steve racing out of the harbor on a boat with a team of Sea Life employees to save a whale entangled with industrial fishing nets, and images of Marvel being released back into the wild.
The scene changed again to a courthouse and a young woman standing beside a Syrian youth. Newspaper clippings indicated “Sentence Commuted for Syrian Youth.” The article explained that a judge had thrown out the original life sentence for Hakim Antoun, lowering it to fifteen yes with the option for parole. In a following photo, Hakim's foot popped behind him while he kissed Cameron.
Tears flooded his eyes.
They continued falling as the recording transitioned to an airport scene. A woman wearing an official looking badge came through the terminal carrying a baby on her hip. The camera panned out to show Steve and Bucky standing hand in hand. A look of absolute joy and awe overwhelmed their faces when the woman settled the baby into Steve's waiting arms.
Pictures of adoption papers followed. Their daughter was named Samanya Rogers. She was of the Bantu people in South Africa and had come into their lives after a desperate call from Carol Danvers following a meteor strike that had decimated the local ecology and killed most of Samanya's village.
He had a daughter. He was married and had the most beautiful daughter, who had big, soulful eyes an adorable wide nose, and full lips. The phantom sensation of those lips pressing against his cheek left him reeling with stunned emotion. His family. He remembered his family.
The video went on to display, “You might not remember these events because...” that was followed by footage of news clippings detailing an accident. They indicated that Dad had been driving when a stray cow had darted in front of their car. Dad hadn't been able to correct well enough to avoid impact against a tree. Following were photos of Bucky just after the accident.
Then, Steve appeared on screen. “Aloha, Bucky. I'm Steve Rogers. The day we got married was the happiest of my life, but every day with you is an adventure. We met about a year after your accident and embarked on a whirlwind romance that involved lots of first kisses and introductions, but I wouldn't have it any other way. You're the love of my life.
“I know you're probably feeling overwhelmed right now, so take a few minutes and let everything sink in. Your journals are in the top drawer of the night stand. Look through them, and when you're ready to talk we'll be waiting for you.”
Eager to start the day and meet this man he'd married and the child they were rearing together, he ignored the journals in favor of getting dressed. In his excitement, he forgot his legs didn't work as well as they once had and almost fell on his ass in between moving from the bed to a compact motorized chair.
Signs directed him toward an elevator. He maneuvered himself from inside into a great room. Beyond the windows, the world stretched out into an endless sea of blue water and white ice. The yacht was anchored off the coast of a landmass.
Wonder filled him. A woman came toward him with a smile and holding out a coat and scarf.
“They're upstairs on the flybridge.”
“I'm sorry, I don't...”
“Rachel Summers.” She offered her hand. “I'm your home health aide and Sammy's nanny.”
He shook her hand and stared dumbly back through the windows. “How do I get...?”
After donning the coat and scarf, he followed her directions to another elevator that took him up another floor. He exited onto an exterior flybridge at the top of the yacht where he stared in awe at the domestic bliss waiting for him.
Steve finished putting Sammy's tight curls into puff-balls on either side of her skull and crouched down to sing the alphabet song. Their daughter-- Good gravy, wasn't that something to marvel over. They had a daughter. Bucky was a father.
Their daughter squealed in delight whenever Steve clapped their hands together
Beside them, Dad laid out breakfast dishes, stopping now and then to tug Sammy's pig tails, which also made her screech with laughter. She babbled something in her native Kirundi.
She was the first to notice him. Giggling, she happily cried, “Baba!” Little arms stretched toward him, joy lighting up her plump face. “Papa, is Baba!”
Steve glanced up, joy settling into something fond and lovely.
Behind them, Dad said, “Come and have some breakfast, Champ.”
“After I've met my husband and daughter.”
He maneuvered his chair closer and lifted the girl from her high chair to pull her into his lap, at which point, she buried her cold nose against his neck. He breathed her in. She smelled like baby powder and maple, and the tight curls on her head tickled his nose. Their daughter. Both arms closed tightly around her to cradle her close, eyes locking with Steve's, who smiled tenderly.
They were his family.