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“I’m sorry, you’re doing what?!” Tony’s voice soared over the general hubbub that had erupted after Steve’s announcement.
“I’m running for New York State Senator,” Steve repeated, staring around the conference room, wearing the face Natasha called his “bulldog with a bone”. He had expected shock, maybe some resistance. Bucky wasn’t surprised that Tony was the loudest, though he was a little concerned by the awe-struck looks on the younger members of the team.
Clint was hanging upside down from the vent over the top of the table. Bucky was pretty sure that Tony had installed that particular vent just for Clint to have somewhere to be during meetings. “Does this mean I actually have to register to vote now?” he asked, his head cocked to the side as he glanced around the room.
Bruce groaned, slouching further into his seat and pouring himself more tea at the same time. Bucky watched the maneuver with something approaching approval. He still wasn’t great at relaxing, especially when voices were raised.
Natasha kicked him gently under the table, smirking when he whipped to glare at her. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he allowed himself to lean back and check it while Tony continued to shout. He was pretty sure Tony just liked to hear the sound of his own voice, loudly, as often as he could.
“ Расслабляться, Волк ” the text read (Relax, Wolf). Bucky sighed, letting himself ease back into his seat. Steve put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving him a squeeze without breaking his argument with Tony.
Steve had at least warned Bucky before announcing it to the team. In fact, the two had had several conversations about what they wanted to do next. After the Accords had been declared illegal in multiple nations, including by the UN itself, Steve and the others who had fought with him (fought with Bucky), were all pardoned.
Shuri had collected the world’s top neurosurgeons (most of whom were Wakandan anyway) and spearheaded the effort to remove the Winter Soldier programming, leaving Bucky a free man as well. Except for the memories that continued to plague him, resulting in horrific nightmares that left Bucky exhausted and ill.
Steve had been there for one of the worst, one that left Bucky curled in a ball sobbing and begging forgiveness from ghosts. After that, T’Challa hired therapists for all of Cap’s friends who were sheltering in Wakanda. Once the pardons were received, T’Challa then reached out to the rest of the Avengers, offering therapy and medical aid.
It was largely due to T’Challa, Shuri, and their mother, Queen Ramonda, that the Avengers were all sitting here, together, on a bright spring morning while Tony and Steve bantered. They weren’t even really arguing, Bucky noticed, only repeating the same things back and forth. He rolled his eyes at Natasha, taking time to read everyone else’s reactions.
Sam was smiling, clearly enjoying the bickering, but also calm with the idea of Steve joining politics. Rhodey, sitting next to Sam, was looking curiously between Steve and Sam. Bucky could see that he was jumping forward a few steps. Bruce was drinking his tea, doodling on his legal pad. Bucky’s eyes crossed momentarily while he read the equations Dr. Banner was working on. He smirked once he realized that Bruce was working on upgrades to Peter’s web fluid.
Peter himself was sitting at the so-called “kids’ table” with Kamala, Kate, and Yelena. Those four were staring at Steve with cow eyes, still firmly ensconced in their hero-worship phase despite how tough Steve could be at training. (Which was to say, not at all. Steve was very much guilty of falling for all four of the teens' puppy dog eyes.)
Wanda and Vision, having graduated from the kids’ table just a few months earlier, were speaking quietly. When Bucky turned his super-soldier hearing on them, he heard Vision explaining the US government and its voting systems to Wanda, who was adorably taking notes. Matt Murdock was smiling, his hands folded in front of him on the table, his eyes hidden behind a pair of reflective glasses, his red and white cane leaning against the table beside him.
Matt didn’t normally run with the Avengers, preferring to keep his Daredevil persona within Hell’s Kitchen. But Pepper had realized he had a uniquely sympathetic view towards superheroes and put him on retainer, which explained why he was attending today in his lawyer garb. Bucky had noticed his socks were two different colors earlier.
Tony threw his hands up, flinging himself into his chair dramatically. “Fine! Go save the huddled masses of Brooklyn! See if I care!” He pointed at Steve, “but I’m not schlepping my way out of Manhattan to visit you, Capsicle, you are still required here for family dinners!”
Steve laughed as he also retook his seat. “Of course, Tony. I’ll still be around, I just won’t be doing actual Avenging, per se.”
Everyone looked up at that, not having realized what this might mean for Captain America, and not just Steve Rogers. Well, everyone except Natasha, who was playing on her phone.
“Wait, what?” Sam gasped.
“You’re giving up the shield?” Peter shrieked.
Clint fell onto the table, twisting in midair to land in a crouch. He flopped onto his back in front of Steve and Bucky, doing his best cat impression. “We need Captain America!” He stared pleadingly at Steve, and Bucky dissolved into giggles at the stricken look on Steve’s face.
Matt spoke up then, realizing that Steve didn’t have a reply at the ready. “We’ve actually been working on this for a while now, Clint. You’re right that Captain America is an important figure in many ways. Steve wanted to be sure to honor the legacy of Dr. Erskine, as well as what he, Bucky, and others went through during the War and after. So he has selected his successor, and hopes that all of you will respect his decision.”
Several heads swiveled to Bucky, who smirked and leaned back into his chair. He and Steve had talked about this too, with Steve offering him the shield. “I’m with you till the end of the line, punk, and that means where you go, I go. If you want to do politics, then I’m with you.” Bucky had told him, "and since we're being all honest-like, I'm getting damn tired of saving your ass."
That had been when the conversation devolved into just bickering, leading to playful wrestling, which led to other…activities.
Steve stood back up, tucking his hands into his pockets before pulling them back out and reaching for the shield, hanging off his chair in its case. He opened the case, laying it out on the table in front of him.
His right hand swept gently over the shining paint, a rueful smile crossing his face. He looked around the room, into every single face there, and took a deep breath before he spoke.
"When I was growing up, the world was very different. Countless people, well-meaning, well-intentioned people, told my mother that she would be doing both of us a favor by putting me in an institution, or just letting me die. They said I was a burden, and that God would forgive her, or that it wouldn't even be a sin.
"Ma never once considered listening to those people. We struggled, everyone knows how we struggled, but what the books and the exhibits don't talk about is how much we laughed. They don't talk about the love we shared in that tiny tenement. Closest they come is 'insufferable on the playground." Steve broke off as Bucky kicked his shin.
He grinned down at his best friend, completely unrepentant. "Sorry, I meant 'inseparable'." There was scattered laughter.
"Ma taught me to stand up for the little guy, never caring that for the most part, I was the little guy. She taught me right from wrong, and she taught me that love can change the world. So when I was offered the chance to help so many others, of course I jumped at it."
Steve cleared his throat, shaking off his memories. Bucky caught Natasha smirking at him, and when she saw she had his attention, she flicked her eyes down the table towards Sam and Rhodey. Bucky grinned back, silent.
"When I woke up after the ice, it took me a long time to come back to myself. One of the first times I felt close to home, close to myself, again, is one of my dearest memories. It was a moment that, looking back on now, points directly to this decision. My decision to enter politics, and my decision to pass on the shield.
"Sam Wilson, you've spent your life fighting for the little guy. You've never backed down from doing what's right, no matter the odds and no matter the enemy. Will you stand up one more time and accept the mantle of Captain America? It's a heavy burden, but I know you're the man to soar with it."
Sam was the only one who looked shocked. All of the kids were cheering, including Vision, though he calmed first. Rhodey leaned over, gripping Sam’s shoulder and whispering to him steadily. Bucky considered tuning his hearing to catch Rhodey’s words but decided to leave the two their privacy.
Steve, apparently utilizing what little sense God gave him, turned his attention to Clint, still sitting in the center of the table. “Do you seriously mean to tell me you don’t vote, Clint?”
Natasha laughed, swinging her feet in the air. “Don’t worry, Cap, Clint has voted in every election he possibly could since he turned 18.” Clint turned to stare at her with wide eyes, and she smirked, barely glancing up from the phone still in her hand. “Still a spy, sweetheart,” she said. Her laugh floated through the room as Clint reached out and shoved her chair into a spin.
Sam stood up just then, coming around the table to stand in front of Steve. “I’d be honored, Captain,” he said with an easy grin, shaking Steve’s hand before pulling the taller man into a tight embrace. The room erupted into cheers, which were interrupted when Nat used her phone to pull up a hologram of a new headline.
“The Falcon to take up the mantle of Captain America! Steve Rogers steps down as leader of the Avengers.” it read.
“What the hell, man?” Sam shouted. “I literally just decided!”
Natasha smirked, waggling her phone at him. “I told Pepper you had accepted five minutes ago.”
Sam sputtered. “I didn’t even know I was going to accept five minutes ago!”
“I know,” Natasha purred, springing to her feet and heading for the door. She glanced back at her stunned teammate as she grasped the handle. “Press conference in 30 minutes, boys. Be dears and dress appropriately.”
Two weeks later, the pundits were mostly won over by Sam, especially after a confrontation that nearly turned deadly with Doctor Doom. Sam, in his brand new Captain America uniform, had been able to talk Doom off a figurative ledge, convincing him to dismantle the nuclear bomb he had been planning to detonate. Sam had even managed to come up with an on-the-spot deal between Latveria and Wakanda which should keep Doom out of trouble for a long while.
That was when Matt, now heading Steve’s campaign, decided it was time for Steve to announce his plans and enter the race. Captain Steve Rogers, US Army retired, joined the New York Senate race as an independent, with little fanfare and no reporters present. After Pepper dropped a tip to a few reporters, the news began to spread quickly.
Steve held a press conference two days after filing his papers. He kept his remarks brief, outlining his views on several issues. He refused to take questions, explaining that he was planning to visit several local spots throughout his district over the next few weeks. “I spent a long time in the ice. It’s taken me several years to feel like I’ve caught back up, and I’d like to take the time to really be sure I understand what my potential constituents are most concerned with, and see what I can do to truly help them. Back when I was a boy, my ma would take me with her to the local political meetings. I’d like to try and recreate that community feeling we had back then.”
Bucky watched the crowd from Steve’s right, taking silent note of reactions throughout the room. Even the most jaded of reporters had a tendency to get starry-eyed when Steve spoke, he had noticed. And some of the articles that came out talked a bit too much about Steve’s physique for Bucky’s peace of mind.
After the first community meeting, Steve lay curled into Bucky’s side in their condo in Vinegar Hill. The first thing Bucky had done after they bought the place, after sweeping it for bugs, of course, had been to install one-way, missile-proof glass. He had also used some of Stark’s tech to coat the entire building’s walls with missile protection. He just hadn’t mentioned that part to anyone other than Tony.
Steve was quiet for a long while, and Bucky let him drift, simply holding him close and breathing in the clean, sharp smell that always followed Steve. Even before Steve had climbed into that damn contraption of Howard’s, being close to him had always put Bucky in mind of those precious moments just before the first snow fell.
After some time, Bucky realized that Steve had fallen asleep. He grinned, pulling the blanket up and tucking it around them both. He reached for his phone, intending to check the reports from the meeting. Instead, he found a text from Tony.
“Do NOT Let Winghead READ the article by Krisztina Matos!!!!! Friday and I are on it, don’t do anything Soldier-like!!” Bucky snorted, causing Steve to shift in his sleep, snuggling in even closer. Bucky nuzzled his cheek over the top of Steve’s head until he settled deeper into sleep, then called up the article Tony mentioned.
“From Captain to Candidate, Steve Rogers Makes Politics Enjoyable” read the headline. The article itself was nearly pornographic, Bucky realized quickly. Ms. Matos spent a ridiculous amount of time describing the fit of Steve’s pants, as well as the cut of his shirt when Steve had removed his suit jacket during his talk.
Bucky’s vision was beginning to turn red when a new message flashed across the screen. “Sir would like to remind you that you should leave this particular problem to himself and Matt. Also, Sir says that Mr. Rogers should definitely not worry about needing a codpiece.”
As always, Tony's timing was so perfect that Bucky found himself chuckling instead of reaching for the rifle in the corner. Putting his phone down, he slid lower in the bed, adjusting himself to wrap around Steve's sleeping body. As he drifted off, he wondered what all Tony had planned for Ms. Matos.
(Tony had all kinds of ideas, including filling her apartment with bees, but Matt insisted on handling it his way. Bucky would have been pleased to know that Matt's way involved Kevlar and devil's horns. Turned out Krisztina was involved with the Tracksuit Mafia. Clint was consulted and had a blast running around with Daredevil for a couple of weeks. Matt wasn't sure if he wanted to strangle Clint or offer him sexual favors.)
Around 10 pm on November 5th, all the major news stations were declaring Steve the winner, by a landslide. The Avengers partied all night, which was how Bucky and Happy ended up the only ones with Steve at his press conference the next morning. Steve wore a crisp light blue button-down, burgundy tie, and dark blue suit jacket. He had paired that with jeans, however, a choice that had made Bucky roll his eyes. Steve had refused to wear slacks since Ms. Matos’ article describing his “package”. Bucky didn’t bother to mention that jeans didn’t help the issue.
Happy was in charge of the security detail, murmuring constantly into his Bluetooth. Since Steve was a super soldier, security was mostly crowd control. Bucky was on Steve detail. He'd assigned himself to it, because Steve healed fast, yes, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt like a bitch. So Bucky stood behind Steve, on his right, watching his best guy's six just like he always had.
Halfway through Steve’s speech, all of the electronics went dead. His microphone cut out with a screech, and anyone wearing an earbud or Bluetooth suddenly winced, yanking them out of ears. Reporters scrambled as their cameras and recorders went dead.
A banner suddenly unfurled on a building down the block. A giant red Hydra-pus covered five floors worth of windows. Several people in the crowd screamed, pointing at the banner. Others turned to run, and panic began to spread.
Steve immediately jumped into his Captain America role, working to contain the chaos and prevent civilian injuries. His voice soared over the crowd, piercing through the din easily even without the microphone. Bucky, meanwhile, had already assessed the threat, grabbing the wrist of a man who was raising a small device towards Steve, twisting his hand upward, snagging the remote he held.
While Happy and his team restored order, Steve and Bucky bundled the man into a holding area behind the stage. “Hail Hydra!” the man gasped, before twisting his face strangely. Bucky shoved his metal hand into his mouth, preventing him from saying or doing anything else.
“Seriously?” Steve sighed, “Still using the cyanide tooth?” Dr. Strange slipped into the room from a portal, looking over the scene with a cynical air.
“Not actually cyanide this time,” Stephen said, motioning for Bucky to shift his hold and beginning to move his hands in strange circles. Bucky carefully removed his hand, gripping the man’s jaw and forcing him to keep his mouth open.
“In this case, it would seem that Hydra is working with my old teacher, Baron Mordo. If this gentleman had managed to complete his plan, he would have released a spell that would have reversed the effects of the serum on both of you.
“Thankfully, I was able to use the Time Stone to stop him, clearly, and Baron Mordo has also been dispatched. You won’t need to worry about it occurring again.” The Hydra agent slumped in Bucky’s grip, unconscious. Dr. Strange clapped twice, then smiled at Steve.
“Congratulations on your win, Steve, I didn’t vote for you.” With that, he stepped backward into a portal, waved jauntily, and disappeared.
Immediately afterward, police entered the room, taking the agent into custody. The investigation later showed that he had been acting alone and hadn’t been a member of any Hydra cell. Bucky chalked that information up to Dr. Strange messing with time again, and didn’t mention it to Steve.
Three years later, Steve and Bucky lay tangled together on the floor of their living room. Bucky noted idly that Steve’s suit jacket was mostly missing an arm. But his brain was still mostly mush, and the thought drifted away like smoke from a campfire.
Steve stirred, peeling himself away from Bucky with a grimace for the sweat cooling between them. He grabbed a throw blanket off the couch, tugging it over Bucky first. Instead of laying back down though, he looked around the room. Bucky reached out for him, pulling him back down. “Whatever it is, punk, it can wait,” he murmured, pillowing his head on Steve’s pec. “For now, let’s just be, ok?”
Steve agreed sleepily, letting whatever he’d been thinking drift away, joining Bucky’s thoughts about the jacket somewhere far away. Half an hour later, he sat bolt upright, dropping Bucky’s head to the wood floor with a thunk. Steve winced , glancing at Buck’s frown with a soft smile. “Sorry, babe.”
“Sorry my Aunt Franny’s left foot,” Bucky grumbled as he sat up, rubbing one hand over his head in a rueful gesture. “What bit your ass, anyway?”
“Nothing important, or well… I mean…” Steve shoved a hand through his hair in frustration. His bangs immediately fell back into his eyes, and Bucky smirked. Steve huffed a laugh, reaching for his ruined suit jacket. He pulled it over, reaching into the pocket before his eyes widened comically.
Steve began frantically going through all of the pockets, going so far as to smack his own hips as though checking pants pockets. Bucky manfully kept his smirk tightly under wraps, catching Steve by the shoulder to stop him as he spun away in a panic.
Bucky held out his metal hand, palm flat, a tiny velvet box sitting on top. “Looking for this, doll?” he asked, making sure to put in the full force of his old Brooklyn drawl.
Steve froze, staring at the box in Bucky’s hand. When he swallowed, his throat made a clicking noise, and Bucky stopped smiling, looking solemn. “Steve,” he asked, placing the box on Steve’s knee, “Baby, is this what I think it is?”
Steve swallowed a few more times, his flush slowly fading as he picked up the box, turning it in his big hands. “Well, jerk, that depends on what you think it is,” he finally answered. “If you think it’s my dad’s wedding band resized for your giant mitts, then yea, yea it is.”
Steve moved gracefully into a kneeling position, pulling Bucky up onto his knees as well. “James Buchanan Barnes,” he started, then grinned fiercely. “Bucky, you jerk, will you marry me and make me an honest punk?”
Bucky could feel the tears trailing down his cheeks, but he didn’t care. He just held out his right hand, ring finger extended, and waited for Steve to put the ring on it. As soon as he had, Bucky rolled his hand over, exposing Steve’s Ma’s ring, glittering gently. “I got it sized up last week,” he murmured.
Steve stared, shocked silent, at the ring in Bucky’s hand. Then he dragged his gaze up to meet Bucky’s, still speechless. Bucky slipped the ring onto Steve’s finger, bringing their gripped hands up to press a kiss against the gold now laying next to Steve’s skin. “I promised her I’d take care of you, punk, and that’s what I’m going to do. Until the end of the line, I’ve got you.”
THE END