A Broken Marvel Girl

• Have you ever met a New Yorker outside of midtown who doesn’t talk with their mouth full? Me neither. Steve Rogers, garbled: “M’jus say’n s’bullshit,” he manages, and swallows. “Our team doesn’t belong in fuckin’ Cali. Listen. You hear that?” “Is it Jim Morita laughing at us from beyond the grave?“ “Hell yeah, it’s Jim Morita laughing at us from beyond the grave.” 

• Steve Rogers getting splashed with water by a cab. “WHADDAYA DOIN, HUH? JESUS!” 

• Steve Rogers, by turns incredibly polite and incredibly rude on the subway. “Is this guy bothering you? Because if he tries to grope you again, I’m kicking his ass, miss, pardon my French.” 

• Food Trucks: The Autobiography of an American Hero

• Those dumb BKLYN ballcaps. Steve owns like minimum ten.

• Wary of visiting Barton in Bed-Stuy. “I think I liked it better when it was crooks,” he says to Buck, eyeing a hipster in confusion. That sweater has like fourteen different kinds of flowers embroidered on it; it looks like something his ma owned, only ironic. 

• “How much is eighteen dollars in future money?” Bucky asks him inside the Balcony Lounge in the Met. Steve blanches, staring at the menu. “For a salad? Oh my God, we’re going to the cafeteria.”

•  Haggling in the fish market. Listen to me, this is so important. “That fish is a fuckin’ tadpole, and you want how much for it?” Bucky demands. “Hell no, hell no, kid, I’m old enough to be your granddad. It’s fifteen for the bunch there or none.” “Sir, these are set prices.” Turning to Steve, incredulous: “Does nobody goddamn know how to do business anymore? I swear to Christ. Bleedin’ me dry. I’m moving to Hell’s Kitchen.” “Hell’s Kitchen is just as expensive, sir.” “Well, fuck a duck, Steve, you hear that?” 

• Following along with a yoga class happening in Central from six feet away, hidden slightly behind a tree

• “Yeah, Carnegie got hit in the Chitauri attack.” “What?” “It’s fine! It’s fine! It’s still there!” Steve refers not to the hall, but the deli. Priorities. 

• Searching for apartments. “I’m starting to get the feeling,” Steve says, “That it’s cheaper to live in Manhattan.” He reaches for the listings for the other borough. Bucky grabs his hand. “Do not,” he says, “If you don’t want to have an aneurysm.” 

• Stopped by the HONY guy

• Bucky holding a stare-off with the 11 y/o kid on the subway wearing a Yankees jersey. The kid staring-off right back. Little punk. 

kid Pietro and Wanda

Here’s the breakdown for you:

The Death of Deadpool was a bit of a trick/joke. The entire 616 universe died, pretty much. Deadpool died at the same moment as the Punisher and Aunt May and Galactus and Stephen Colbert and Jubilee and me. But because we do Deadpool’s book, we called it The Death of Deadpool and had a little fun with it–he gets to be happy for one moment…and then the universe ends.

You were right about Deadpool’s Secret Secret Wars, that took place in the past.

BUT–the real 616 Deadpool was in Mrs. Deadpool & the Howling Commandos as a ghost. He narrates that story…and then jumps into it.

As for where to see other 616 characters…MOST of them died with the universe. A handful lived on a sort of cosmic life raft, and that group you can see in the main Secret Wars series.

It’s a nice place; comfortable and homey. Not big in terms of size, but has a welcoming atmosphere. It’s filled with the locals, mostly those in their mid-thirties to late fifties. Even still, the DJ mixes modern dance music as much as they play some of the oldies that fill Steve with a sort of nostalgia.

Steve doesn’t get up to dance once, but a lot of the others are surprisingly into it - especially Bucky. Steve’s always loved watching Bucky dance; he gets lost in his own world in the same way he’s always said Steve does when he sketches. He can’t remember the last time he saw Bucky this carefree, so sitting in the sidelines is just fine by Steve. His smile is big and adoring all the same.

They keep trying to pull him up, but it’s not happening. If they manage to get enough people and get him to his feet, he’s escaping back to that chair before he even hits the little opening designated as the dance floor. The only one who doesn’t bother asking is Bucky. Bucky knows better; he could never get Steve to agree to dancing their entire lives, so there’s no point.

Or so he thinks.

Because Bucky waits until the very last member of their group tries (and fails) to get Steve to his feet. Then a slow song hits, and Bucky’s danced with Natasha, and Maria, and some of the other pretty ladies around the place that actually were NOT ten years older than him. Every time, he’s glanced over and seen Steve sitting all by himself. It makes his heart hurt.

So he goes to Steve and starts tugging him up. Steve tries to fight it, like he always does, but Bucky gives him his most adorable puppy eyes… And Steve has never said it out loud, but those eyes have turned his knees to jelly and his stomach to butterflies since he was nine. So eventually, he heaves a sigh and goes.

And would you know it? Something happens when they start dancing. Thank god it’s slow, or Steve would be falling all over the place. No amount of muscles, bravery, patriotism, or boyish, old-fashioned charm could give Captain America left AND right feet. Only two left feet, always.

So he doesn’t trip, or step on Bucky’s feet, or take anyone down with him - but it IS awkward at first. Because there are other people slow-dancing up there, but none of them are the same gender. And none of them are Bucky. Steve bets that no one else is up there dancing with someone who’s been their best friend since they were toddlers, who’s been the secret love of their life for almost as long, and who has never shown any signs of being anything other than straight.

Yet Bucky puts his hand on Steve’s hip and takes his hand in the other as easily as if they’ve been doing this every day for their entire lives. And he starts moving them in slow circles as fluently as if he was the only dance partner Steve was ever meant to have. So after a few bars in the song, Steve forgets why it felt uncomfortable at first. In fact, it’s only because, when he laughs awkwardly, Bucky chuckles and gives that million-dollar smile, and looks right into his eyes.

Then it’s like Steve forgets everything except the colour of Bucky’s eyes. The smell of his body spray. The slight crookedness in his top teeth. The way Bucky’s suddenly searching his eyes with his own; and that smile fades just a bit, because Bucky’s slowly starting to look at Steve differently. Sort of like he’s seeing Steve for the first time, and yet JUST like the way Steve realizes Bucky’s looked at him since they were old enough to want.

There is no world. It’s only Bucky; his own world and gravitational pull as it is, strong enough to make all galaxies collide and heads turn.

They don’t say anything for the rest of the night. Steve suspects they don’t need to right now. He feels something shifting; falling into place and making sense of things that he never understood before. There’s been a knot twisted in the pit of his stomach since 1945. For the first time in about seventy years, it comes undone, and Steve feels peace. They can talk about it later. If Steve even tried to open his mouth, the only thing he’d probably be able to say anyways is “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

For now, they forget about everyone else there. The others, they give them their space. They have, after all, seen it. Them, together… Feeling the things for each other that love stories are made of; just waiting for them to get on the same page as each other and figure it out.

Fast songs, more slow songs - they keep dancing through them all, fingers threaded and holding each other; spinning in slow circles and making up for every dance they never let themselves have before. Bucky’s eyes are wet; Steve does him a kindness and doesn’t comment on it. They touch their foreheads together, and this is theirs. All this, all theirs.

By the time the bar is past last call and their group is the only one left in the place, they’re still dancing. Roberta Flack’s “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” fills the room, and Steve’s heart nearly pounds out of his chest when he realizes that Bucky’s softly singing it to him.

It’s the last song of the night. Steve’s almost heartbroken when the final note bleeds away and he knows they’ll have to break apart. But then Bucky tilts his chin in and the last thing Steve sees before he closes his eyes are the swirls of colours in Bucky’s own eyes. Then he feels a warm, gentle mouth on his, and Bucky kisses him. Not long… Just small, unassuming. It’s still the best kiss Steve’s ever had. I love you so much, he thinks. Always.

“Me too,” Bucky whispers, eyes still closed and smiling. Steve didn’t realize he’d said that out loud. Bucky brings up his flesh hand and holds onto the back of Steve’s head, gentle yet firm. Possessive, but… Steve’s always been his, long before this moment. He keeps their foreheads together again. “I love you, too. Always been you, Stevie. Always will.”

It started when he was small, Clint was away with work and Laura opened a letter from him. And Cooper looked at the picture on the stamp, a picture of the Australian coast, and he was fascinated. He’s never been anywhere like that, so Laura said he could keep it.

Cooper treasured it, and when Clint’s next letter came, Laura gave him that stamp too.

The collection started in a box, until Cooper saved up his pocket money enough to buy a book. He transferred everything over to there, organised by country and continent, alphabetically.

And the collection grew as he found more stamps. Clint sent them from across the world. Even if there wasn’t time to write a letter, he always found a stamp.

Sometimes he’d be home in a few days and would give it to Cooper, unused. Those were Cooper’s favourites, not because they were spotless, but because they meant his dad was home safe.

What’s a happy thought as big as a world? What’s the opposite of kicking?