Soulmates Through Time
Oct. 27th, 2016 07:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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rogue_america"Not tonight, Buck," Steve said, unable to hide the weariness in his voice. He shuffled some papers on his desk, tidying up, and pointedly not looking at his friend.
Bucky sighed, tilting his head as he watched Steve, his mouth pulling down to the side unhappily. "You gotta get out there more, Stevie," he tried coaxing. "You'll never find--"
"I got you, don't I?" Steve's brows drew together in upset, but he still didn't look over at Bucky.
The two had known each other since they were little, and as soon as they'd shaken hands upon first meeting - imitating how they'd seen their parents do so - they'd stared at each other, wide-eyed, just knowing that they'd spend their lives together. They'd never questioned it, even though at the time they hadn't really understood the idea of 'soulmates', besides hearing snippets of adult conversations that mostly went over their heads.
Steve had asked his mother about it, several months later. When she'd described the utter feeling of rightness, of knowing this one, single person would always understand and be there for you, supporting you, but also pushing you to be your best... Steve had nodded, and with all the gravity of a five-year-old, had told his mother that Bucky was that for him.
Unlike how most mothers probably would've reacted to the precocious statement, brushing it off as a child enjoying having a new best friend, his mother had stilled and become quiet, looking at him for long moments. "Is he really, baby?" She'd finally questioned, in her sing-song Irish lilt. Steve hadn't been able to take his eyes off her, even as he nodded, willing her to believe him.
Sarah had bundled him up close, kissed his forehead, and just held him in her lap (he really was too old to be held like that, but he still fit, and he liked it, so he never complained). "I'm glad, Steve. I'm so glad you found your Someone so soon."
Now, Steve finally turned to look at Bucky. "Why're you still even goin' ta those things? They're for people looking for their soulmates." He rubbed his right palm heel with his opposite thumb, almost looking like he was massaging a cramp; it was a nervous, comforting gesture he always did, but especially when discussing anything concerning soulmates. Right over the odd oblong shape at the base of his hand, that matched Bucky's. Their soulmarks. Steve had never seen one so low on anyone else's arm; usually they were higher, denoting how old the person was when they'd first touched their soulmate, and found their Someone.
"Some people just like havin' a good time, Steve," Bucky sighed; it was an old discussion. Most soulmates were romantic partners, but it wasn't unheard of for people like them; soulmates who were just friends, or even relatives. Steve knew it, too - there was a sweet old lady in the next apartment house over who was soulmates with her female cousin. The two had never married, but had raised a couple orphans they'd adopted. "I've met some others who've already found their Someone--"
"They weren't like us though, Bucky," Steve interjected, "they were swingers."
Bucky rolled his eyes, but bit his tongue on the angry words that wanted to come out. Steve was under a lot of stress right now, and he was not going to add to that. "So what're you gonna do tonight?"
Steve's brows furrowed together, glancing down. "I was gonna go visit Ma." He looked up quickly and shook his head, interjecting before Bucky could hardly do more than open his mouth, "An' no, you don't gotta come with me. I'm just gonna sit with her for a while. She'll prob'ly sleep the whole time, anyway." He hoped she did, at least; she was in a lot of pain these days, always coughing.
Sighing, Bucky acquiesced. A few more words to figure out their plans for later, and Bucky left, for one of the dances frequently held on weekends that doubled as "meet-n-greets" for people hoping to find their soulmate. Steve had gone to a few, just to be social, but no one was ever that interested in him, so mostly he propped up the wall while Bucky flitted around like a damn social butterfly.
They were such opposites in so many ways, Steve mused as he walked down the street toward the hospital, and yet they complemented each other so well. He knew that was the whole point of soulmates, but he could never stop thinking how incredibly lucky he was to have met Bucky when they were children, before pre-conceived notions had been crammed into their heads, and the rest of the world's problems and issues had become their own. No way would someone like Bucky now, ever glance twice at short, scrawny, chronically sick Steve Rogers. If Steve would even have made it to young adulthood without the bond between soulmates that helped make you stronger.
People with found soulmates could die, of course, and did - his own Da had been killed in the Great War, and his Ma had survived it. But once you'd found your soulmate, it was a lot harder for you to succumb to illness and disease, and you healed faster than otherwise. He'd read an article once talking about potentially the synergistic bond between the very cells of a soulmate, boosting each other's immune system, or something like that.
There was a florist shop just down the block from the hospital - probably did a lot of business with visiting family, Steve thought, only a little bitterly - and he jiggled his wallet in his trouser pocket in contemplation. Ma might be sleeping now, but even if she was, it'd be a nice surprise for her to wake up to fresh flowers. It'd play hell on his allergies, but he'd only be carrying them for about 10 minutes, so it wouldn't be all that bad. Nodding decisively, he stepped into the shop.
It was bright and cheery inside the store, with warm yellow lighting casting a golden glow over the gleaming hardwood counters; ribbons and strings in a myriad of colors seemed to explode out of display stands, and dozens of pre-made bouquets were on every available surface. Steve's fingers started itching for his pencil and sketchbook - there was so much detail in the little shop; not actually so little, but made cozy with the sheer volume of product vying for space.
He picked a ready-made bouquet of baby's breath and orchids, his mother's favorite (she said it reminded her of the flowers back home), and went up to the cash register to pay for it.
Bucky sighed, tilting his head as he watched Steve, his mouth pulling down to the side unhappily. "You gotta get out there more, Stevie," he tried coaxing. "You'll never find--"
"I got you, don't I?" Steve's brows drew together in upset, but he still didn't look over at Bucky.
The two had known each other since they were little, and as soon as they'd shaken hands upon first meeting - imitating how they'd seen their parents do so - they'd stared at each other, wide-eyed, just knowing that they'd spend their lives together. They'd never questioned it, even though at the time they hadn't really understood the idea of 'soulmates', besides hearing snippets of adult conversations that mostly went over their heads.
Steve had asked his mother about it, several months later. When she'd described the utter feeling of rightness, of knowing this one, single person would always understand and be there for you, supporting you, but also pushing you to be your best... Steve had nodded, and with all the gravity of a five-year-old, had told his mother that Bucky was that for him.
Unlike how most mothers probably would've reacted to the precocious statement, brushing it off as a child enjoying having a new best friend, his mother had stilled and become quiet, looking at him for long moments. "Is he really, baby?" She'd finally questioned, in her sing-song Irish lilt. Steve hadn't been able to take his eyes off her, even as he nodded, willing her to believe him.
Sarah had bundled him up close, kissed his forehead, and just held him in her lap (he really was too old to be held like that, but he still fit, and he liked it, so he never complained). "I'm glad, Steve. I'm so glad you found your Someone so soon."
Now, Steve finally turned to look at Bucky. "Why're you still even goin' ta those things? They're for people looking for their soulmates." He rubbed his right palm heel with his opposite thumb, almost looking like he was massaging a cramp; it was a nervous, comforting gesture he always did, but especially when discussing anything concerning soulmates. Right over the odd oblong shape at the base of his hand, that matched Bucky's. Their soulmarks. Steve had never seen one so low on anyone else's arm; usually they were higher, denoting how old the person was when they'd first touched their soulmate, and found their Someone.
"Some people just like havin' a good time, Steve," Bucky sighed; it was an old discussion. Most soulmates were romantic partners, but it wasn't unheard of for people like them; soulmates who were just friends, or even relatives. Steve knew it, too - there was a sweet old lady in the next apartment house over who was soulmates with her female cousin. The two had never married, but had raised a couple orphans they'd adopted. "I've met some others who've already found their Someone--"
"They weren't like us though, Bucky," Steve interjected, "they were swingers."
Bucky rolled his eyes, but bit his tongue on the angry words that wanted to come out. Steve was under a lot of stress right now, and he was not going to add to that. "So what're you gonna do tonight?"
Steve's brows furrowed together, glancing down. "I was gonna go visit Ma." He looked up quickly and shook his head, interjecting before Bucky could hardly do more than open his mouth, "An' no, you don't gotta come with me. I'm just gonna sit with her for a while. She'll prob'ly sleep the whole time, anyway." He hoped she did, at least; she was in a lot of pain these days, always coughing.
Sighing, Bucky acquiesced. A few more words to figure out their plans for later, and Bucky left, for one of the dances frequently held on weekends that doubled as "meet-n-greets" for people hoping to find their soulmate. Steve had gone to a few, just to be social, but no one was ever that interested in him, so mostly he propped up the wall while Bucky flitted around like a damn social butterfly.
They were such opposites in so many ways, Steve mused as he walked down the street toward the hospital, and yet they complemented each other so well. He knew that was the whole point of soulmates, but he could never stop thinking how incredibly lucky he was to have met Bucky when they were children, before pre-conceived notions had been crammed into their heads, and the rest of the world's problems and issues had become their own. No way would someone like Bucky now, ever glance twice at short, scrawny, chronically sick Steve Rogers. If Steve would even have made it to young adulthood without the bond between soulmates that helped make you stronger.
People with found soulmates could die, of course, and did - his own Da had been killed in the Great War, and his Ma had survived it. But once you'd found your soulmate, it was a lot harder for you to succumb to illness and disease, and you healed faster than otherwise. He'd read an article once talking about potentially the synergistic bond between the very cells of a soulmate, boosting each other's immune system, or something like that.
There was a florist shop just down the block from the hospital - probably did a lot of business with visiting family, Steve thought, only a little bitterly - and he jiggled his wallet in his trouser pocket in contemplation. Ma might be sleeping now, but even if she was, it'd be a nice surprise for her to wake up to fresh flowers. It'd play hell on his allergies, but he'd only be carrying them for about 10 minutes, so it wouldn't be all that bad. Nodding decisively, he stepped into the shop.
It was bright and cheery inside the store, with warm yellow lighting casting a golden glow over the gleaming hardwood counters; ribbons and strings in a myriad of colors seemed to explode out of display stands, and dozens of pre-made bouquets were on every available surface. Steve's fingers started itching for his pencil and sketchbook - there was so much detail in the little shop; not actually so little, but made cozy with the sheer volume of product vying for space.
He picked a ready-made bouquet of baby's breath and orchids, his mother's favorite (she said it reminded her of the flowers back home), and went up to the cash register to pay for it.
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Date: 2017-03-02 04:23 am (UTC)"Doin' the right thing always hurts, Stevie," she'd told him. "Don' ever let anyone tell you diff'ren'. It's never easy, and it hurts, and tha's how you know it's right. If doin' the righ' thing were easy, everybody would do it."
She'd never tell him anything like that again. She wouldn't be around to see what he made of his life, to learn about Marie, that he had two soulmates. Sure he'd told her in the hospital, but he couldn't even be sure she'd been aware of what he was saying.
Steve's first, uncharitable thought at Marie's words was you're really bad at being comforting, aren't you? He didn't say it out loud thankfully, too busy still hiding his face against Bucky's shoulder and sobbing. But her last words penetrated a little through the haze, digging into his mind and settling, little seeds of hope. We're here for you. You're not alone.
He'd never really been alone, he could barely remember a time back before he'd had Bucky as his soulmate, his constant companion. But Bucky had been the only one he could ever really trust. He'd learned the hard way that people only showed interest if they wanted something from you, or just wanted to make fun of you behind your back. But now there was Marie, and she wouldn't do that, he was sure. Becoming soulmates didn't change you, or the other person, but it did mean that they were the best person for you. He couldn't imagine having a soulmate who treated him the way others had, and that in itself was a comfort. He had two people to support him, unconditionally.
But that also meant that he'd need to pull his weight, and support them as well, when they needed it. He could do that. Maybe not right now, but soon.
Finally pulling away from Bucky's shoulder - which of course meant he had to press back more against Marie, but that was okay - Steve nodded as he wiped quickly at his cheeks. "Thank you," he said quietly. He gave a sniff, rubbing the back of his wrist under his nose. "We should get you home," he told Marie, not sounding particularly happy about the idea, but he didn't want her neighbors wondering where she was, and she couldn't stay with them. Not yet, anyway. Just because they were soulmates, didn't mean some propriety wasn't still required.
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Date: 2017-03-02 06:59 am (UTC)Frowning at what Steve did say, she shook her head and reached up to gently smooth a hand over the back of his head, brushing down that blonde hair. It felt right to touch him, and she didn't care to over-think it. "We should get you home," she insisted firmly. "We can worry about me later."
Frankly, she didn't care all that much what her neighbors might think. None of them seemed to pay all that much attention to her anyway, and since she'd taken the job at the flower shop, she had days where she was out at all sorts of hours. If anyone asked, she could make up a suitable excuse for staying out late or not coming home at all.
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Date: 2017-03-03 07:20 am (UTC)He turned to catch Bucky's eye imploringly. With the ease of long practice and familiarity, Bucky knew right away what Steve wanted. He gave a small nod in understanding and agreement. "Okay. We'll get back to the apartment. You, pal, are gonna go to bed. Then I'll walk Marie home. We'll all be safe as houses."
The look he shot Marie tried to convey don't argue, we'll talk later. Like Steve, he was used to silently communicating with quick looks and small facial expressions. Marie wasn't as familiar with either of them as they were with each other, so it would take longer for her to catch the subtleties, but this seemed pretty straightforward.
"Come on, up you get," Bucky said, hauling Steve up with an arm around his waist.
"Not a baby," Steve muttered mutinously, choosing to completely ignore the fact that he'd been crying over his mother not five minutes earlier.
"Course yer not." Bucky's words were the usual brisk ones, tempered with a quiet, gentle tone. Glancing over, he reached out a hand for Marie to join them.
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Date: 2017-03-03 07:39 am (UTC)It was so strange and almost surreal in some moments to see the two of them interact. They were so close, closer than she'd seen from most people, and she-- Was she really going to fit into their little world? She hoped so. More than anything, she wanted this arrangement to work. She'd made a promise to look after them and she fully intended to keep it if they would let her.
That hand in invitation meant the world to her and she went without hesitation, placing her hand in Bucky's long enough to feel that warmth and rightness of touching him, followed by moving closer to Steve, even leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you for worrying about me, sugar," she told him softly, grateful that there was anyone to bother with it these days.
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Date: 2017-03-03 12:53 pm (UTC)"Don' call me that," Steve responded in a tone that said it was a well-used phrase, "an' like yer any diff'rent. Always tellin' me when I should eat, when I should sleep--"
"You don't do nearly enough of either," Bucky interrupted.
His plan to keep Steve's mind on other things seemed to work on the walk back to the apartment, the two of them bantering and bickering in their own easy rhythm the entire way. It was once they were back inside that Steve grew quiet, and Bucky didn't quite want to break the atmosphere with jokes or bickering. This was still Sarah's domain to them both, and probably would be for a while yet. Her absence had been easier to ignore before - she was often working before she'd grown ill, so it had just felt like she was temporarily out. Now an expectant hush seemed to fall over the apartment, wondering when she would return, constantly reminded that she never would, now.
"How ya feelin'? Bucky asked softly, trying to be casual. "You need somethin' ta eat? Or just sleep?"
"Don't think I could sleep," Steve muttered, but heaved a sigh known to parents of small children the world over; he was fighting exhaustion, and Bucky recognized it.
"Yeah, well, might as well get changed. Lay down for a bit at least." Steve waved him off, but headed obediently toward his room to change.
Watching until the door closed, Bucky took Marie's hand and drew her over to the couch. "We'll wait for a few minutes and I'll check on him. He'll prob'bly be out like a light, though." He didn't bother to lower his voice too much; he knew Steve's hearing was poor, and making noise wouldn't be much of a problem.
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Date: 2017-03-03 02:33 pm (UTC)Once Bucky had expertly sent Steve to bed and settled the both of them on the couch, she sighed softly and nodded at his words, giving his hand a little squeeze. She was quiet for a moment longer, steeling herself to be strong before she looked at the man beside her and asked, "How are you holding up, Bucky?"
Steve wasn't the only one who was losing someone that night. It didn't matter that the grief was different, it was still grief.
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Date: 2017-03-04 12:53 am (UTC)He didn't want Marie to think he was burying his feelings, or trying to hide anything, so he elaborated. "I mean, sad, but in that nebulous sorta way, like when you hear about anybody dying and you think 'oh, that's so sad,' but it doesn't really affect you personally? It's not... really real, yet." He shrugged, a little uncomfortable - not with Marie, but just opening up in general. "She'd been sick for a long while. More and more hospital stays, longer each time. She hasn't actually been home in months. So her not bein' here... It hasn't sunk in yet that she's not comin' back."
He took a deep breath, glancing toward Marie, but not quite making eye contact. "Besides. I gotta be strong for Steve. Much as I loved Sarah, she was Steve's whole world." It occurred to him that Steve had Marie to lean on now, as well as him. Which was good, Steve needed all the support he could get even without a death in the family. But it had just been him and Steve for so long, a few hours knowing they had another soulmate wasn't gonna get him to change his habits in that regard.
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Date: 2017-03-04 05:36 am (UTC)"You don't have to be strong for me," she told Bucky gently, turning slightly more toward him so she could reach over and rest her free hand on his knee. "That's my job right now, being strong for the both of you. I'm here if you need me, sugar."
And she wasn't planning on going anywhere. They were a team now, entwined in each other's lives by fate and whatever power was behind the soulmate bond. Neither of them were going to be rid of her anytime soon.