Who: Carol Danvers NPCs: Joseph Danvers Jr. & Marie Danvers When: Jan. 16, 2014 [backdated] Where: Arlington National Cemetery What: Carol goes to visit her brother and meets up with her mom and brother. Awkward family time ensue. Rating: Low.
The flight down to Virginia was with an old Air Force friend and settled Carol a bit. She was still that odd cocktail of anxious and angry the whole time, but talking old boot camp stories was a nice distraction. The flight was short, only a couple hours or so, and soon she was landing in DC and then driving to the hotel she would be staying at in Arlington. The days the followed to Thursday were a blur of distraction with visiting Washington DC and walking through museums. She spent a full two days in the National Air & Space Museum, looking at the shuttles, rockets, satellites, and letting students who might be there on a field trip rush past her. Once upon a time Carol wanted to be an astronaut, now she could fly high enough to touch space and for a time be safe from the vacuum for a time. Funny how things worked.
Thursday finally came though and Carol made her way to the cemetery herself. The place where the young and the brave were buried along with the other honored dead. A single tombstone among many identical to it lined up in perfectly measured rows. The only difference between his and the others was that it had Steve's name printed across the front, along with any honors he'd received during his short military time and those awarded to him posthumously. The flowers from the year before were dried and wilted. Carol moved the dead flowers aside to put some new ones to replace them.
"Hey Steve," she said and wiped some dust from the top of his grave as she crouched before it. She smiled softly at it and for the first time since she decided she was coming down, she felt completely at ease. Sure, her brother was in a coffin six feet below, but she was there to see him and deep down she knew that Steve had made his own choice to join the army. Carol joining the Air Force may have influenced him a bit, but it was his choice. A fatal choice, perhaps, but it wasn't like her own military career wasn't riddled with bumps along the way that should have killed her, but didn't.
She didn't say much more than a hello, but instead thought and focused on the better times they had growing up. Sneaking out of the house when they needed to do chores so they could play some baseball together while they pretended to be their favorite members of the Red Sox, watching cartoons and rough housing until their dad stepped in to remind Carol that she was a girl and girls didn't get into fights.
"Carol?" a soft feminine voice questioned and she looked up to see her parents standing a distance away. Joe, her other brother, was with them, and he looked just as surprised to see Carol as her mother was. There were only the two of them though, Carol's father noticeably absent. She stood up and simply said, "Hi mom. Joe." Joe nodded his head, a smile half cracking at her and Carol's mother was harder to read. She was grayer now than Carol remembered, and she came walking forward with the bouquet of red, white, and blue flowers in a glass jar to place at the sight.
"You're here," Marie Danvers said with a tone of surprise and Carol felt herself tense, "Why wouldn't I be? Where's da—" she corrected, "—Joe, Sr?"
"He never comes," her brother replied. Carol looked surprised at this, "What do you mean? It's Steve, why wouldn't he come?"
"Your father handles grief in his own way," Marie said and Carol always remembered her mother defending her father's behavior. But Carol knew that if her father ever raised a hand to strike her, she would have stepped in. But Carol's relationship with her father was composed of disappointment, sexism, and arguments. Joseph, Sr. never struck Carol, though sometimes the way he phrased himself felt like she'd gotten a punch to the gut.
Marie Danvers looked at Carol and placed a hand hesitantly on the sleeve of her black jacket, "It's good to see you, Carol. We missed you at Christmas." Somehow, Carol found that hard to believe, but her mother often tried to dumb down the tensions. It was always harder with her father drank, and even worse when Carol picked up that habit too. She shrugged, "I was busy."
"Being a hero," her mother nodded, "Yes. I see you in the papers sometimes along with your team. We're all very proud of you."
Liar.
Carol didn't vocalize this thought, but knew that her mother was just trying to be diplomatic. Or maybe her mom was proud of her, but her father still clung onto things like he always did. Carol felt uncomfortable, like there was a giant elephant threatening to stomp on Steve's tombstone should she not leave within the next few minutes.
"I should go," Carol said, "I have a flight to catch tomorrow." The flight didn't leave until Saturday, but Carol might see if she could trade it for an earlier flight. Her mother nodded, still holding on to Carol's sleeve a little, not in a death grip, but just enough it would be hard to step away without jerking herself from her mother's grasp.
"Of course, you're a busy woman," Marie said and while not letting go entirely, she smoothed her hand over Carol's sleeve to her hand, giving it a tight squeeze, "It was good to see you, Carol." Carol forced a smile on her face, "Yeah, mom, it was good to see you you too."
Carol felt like a bitch. Probably because she was acting like one in the most subtle ways. Her mother was trying to be nice, and all over Steve's grave, and Carol's attitude and reservations about her family were making it worse. Her mother let go of her hand, and Carol, despite knowing she was acting distant, let her go anyway. Carol looked at Joe, who wasn't smiling anymore and said, "See ya, Carol. My birthday's in a couple months, by the way." Another invitation and Carol nodded slowly, "I'll see what I can do."
She began walking away from the grave site and with each step she felt strange and out of her mind. Like her mind checked out and her body was just in auto-pilot. Joe, Jr's birthday was in a couple of moths, and he said it because he either wanted her there, or wanted a present. He was taller than she last remembered. God, when did he grow up? He was blond like she was, though parts of his face reminded her of Steve. Her relationship with Joe, Jr. was never that close, but maybe she should fix that.
But she wondered why her father hadn't come. Was it because he thought she was going to be there? No, that wouldn't stop Joseph Danvers, Sr. Carol knew that he placed partial blame for Steve's death on her, bu it struck her that he probably blamed himself as well. He always favored Steve and losing him, from what she remembered, caused him to drink even heavier. At Steve's wake he was upstairs in a room with a bottle of Jack. The Jack that fueled the argument in front of guests that had Carol leaving early and turning to a bottle of the same poison herself to put her at ease.
Strange how much she was like her father. Frightening too. Carol realized how lucky she was that her friends intervened when they did and she'd make sure to tell them that when she got back.