WHAT: Early morning bonding WHERE: Black Widow House WHEN: Backdated to the Fifth of July WARNINGS: Mentions of murder in conversation STATUS: Complete
Despite ending the Fourth of July (and one Mr. Steve Rogers’ birthday) high as a kite, Kate woke up feeling surprisingly refreshed. Her first priority was, of course, to turn over and attempt to kiss Emily awake. For her trouble, she received only a swat and a grumble, and a glance through the crack in her curtains (purple, of course) showed her that the sun was only just cresting the horizon.
A glance at the clock on her bedside table told her it was only 5:43 a.m. That explained why her night owl girlfriend refused to move. So, she dropped one last kiss to her cheek and slipped out of bed, padding down the hall to the kitchen in the hopes of waking the other stubborn members of her household with the smell of fresh coffee.
She wasn’t surprised to find she wasn’t really the first one up; part of her had suspected Nat would beat her, as she was prone to do, and might even prod her into training, too. Instead, her eyebrows shot up in surprise when she found a fully-dressed Steve fiddling with the espresso machine on the kitchen counter. It wasn’t the most unusual sight – he’d spent nights at the Black Widow House plenty – but normally, Nat would be up with him.
“Morning,” she greeted him, leaning against the island opposite him. “Is it being a jerk again this morning? Yelena beat it up the other day, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Steve had heard her coming and had made an attempt to look less helpless by the time she rounded the last corner. He wasn't sure if it had worked, especially from the question she'd posed to him.
His Fourth had been actually really enjoyable, compared to far too many in the past and he was grateful for everyone who had come out and enjoyed the company, the food, and the show. Everything had gone well, ended well, and he had more than enough rest for his regular 6AM run. Only he had been the only one up and thought he could make coffee for everyone.
The problem was he still struggled with coffee machines. It was dumb, he'd been around for more than a dozen years now and could handle most things, the things he could do with his phone without even thinking about it was amazing compared to Past-Steve. But something about coffee machines was weirdly complex and made him feel like he needed a doctorate in espresso to make it work.
"Could be, or I'm just doing it wrong," he admitted, smiling with half his mouth as he set things down and turned to face Kate. "You want to be a hero and take this over for me?"
“Always,” Kate drawled with a grin. She strolled up beside him, and from there, it was all autopilot. She had been using this particular machine for months and a variety of others throughout her life. She’d never been a barista – too rich for that – but coffee flowed through her bloodstream on a daily basis.
Less than a minute later, and the machine came to life, beginning to steadily drip into the mug below. “There you go, Cap. Happy to lend America a hand,” she teased, giving him a playful shoulder check.
"Your country appreciates your service," answered Steve, accepting the check with a chuckle. He'd watched her go through the motions to see if he could pick up a few tricks and an understanding of the mechanicals of the machine. And he was pretty sure he could do a better job next time. Maybe. He was good at learning by watching, it was a patience and tactics trait, after all. But somehow he thought some of it was just something you feel versus explicit instruction.
"So, early riser, you want to join me on my morning run? Or are you just here for the caffeine?"
“I came for the caffeine,” Kate admitted, “but I won’t say no to a run. I’m feeling weirdly energetic after last night.” If there were any side effects lingering from her special brownie, they hadn’t hit her much yet. She was more than happy to take advantage of the burst of energy in ways that didn’t involve her back hitting a gym mat for the gazillionth time.
“But you’re gonna have to reel back and stay in step with me. I don’t have super soldier speed.”
"Sometimes the conversation is just as important as the exercise." Which was Steve's way of agreeing that he'd keep pace and not just lapping Kate. Besides, that activity was more fun with Sam. It was nearly traditional at this point, even.
"I'll wait for you to enjoy your cup, then. A bit of carb-loading can't hurt, either. I'm sure we've got a few bagels left in the fridge. Or I can make you some toast while you prepare your drink?" Before even waiting for an answer, Steve stepped over towards the fridge to at least confirm his suspicions. Sure enough, bagels and cream cheese were plentiful, though it was clear they'd been hit pretty hard in the last few days.
“You take the first cup,” Kate told him. He’d been messing around with the machine when she arrived, clearly in search of a cup for himself. She wasn’t the type to fiend for caffeine so hard that she couldn’t be patient. “I’ll go change and make my own when I get back. But I’ll take you up on that toast offer if you’re game.”
It was still early enough in the day that she’d need more than sleep shorts and the tank top she’d worn to bed to hit the suburban streets in their area. She didn’t want to scandalize any potential Karens out there.
"Good call," he answered, flipping the switch to start a cup for himself now that everything was in order. "One side of toast, coming right up." He offered one quick smile to her before she left to change, then turned to get out the bread, butter, and a knife. He appreciated toast. 100 years later and toast was still toast. You still heated it mostly the same and you still prepared it the same. That made it one of his favorite comfort foods - there was always room for toast and it never tasted bad.
He scooped a little bit of butter into a small glass bowl and set it on top of the toaster, letting the heat from that help melt the butter just enough to make spreading easier before turning back to his coffee as it finished filling up. Little bit of sugar, little bit of (he checked quickly) cinnamon creamer, and he was good to go. He took a few sips and enjoyed the quiet kitchen for just a moment before the toast popped up.
Then it was just a matter of pulling out all four slices and getting them buttered up. It was starting to turn into a good morning, which was really all he could ask for on the Fifth of July.
Kate appeared just as the toast was laid out on the island between them, fully dressed in workout clothes. She’d even tidied up her hair enough to look presentable, pulling most of it back into a ponytail and off the back of her neck. She went right for the espresso machine, snagging another cup out of the cabinet above her head before starting a cup for herself.
“Thank you,” she flashed him an appreciative smile as she grabbed for a knife to spread butter across her top slice of toast. “Hey, so, I don’t think I asked you, but I meant to… what was your birthday like back then? Like, did you actually get a birthday, or was it all about patriotism?”
Steve raised a finger, just about to tell her that she could focus on her coffee and he'd take care of the buttering, but it occurred to him that he didn't need to offer to do everything. She was more than capable of doing both. Besides, she asked him a pretty thoughtful question.
"When I was younger - before I was Captain America, that is, there were birthdays. Largely just me and Buck, but there were birthdays. After? After this, it was kind of a whirlwind and more patriotism, sure. So being here is kind of more a return to form." He smiled and drank a sip of his coffee. "Thanks for asking, I hadn't really thought about that before."
Kate flashed him a smile. The question had been more for the sake of her own curiosity, but it was definitely a bonus that it had made him smile like that. “I just feel like you deserve your own day. I couldn’t imagine being born on a holiday. Especially nowadays, when patriotism is so much more extreme.”
She wasn’t going to go into detail there, but things had happened back in her version of her home that she had a feeling Steve Rogers wasn’t all that happy to see happening.
“Next year, you better still be here, because I’m going to get banners that say Happy Steve Day. This was your last low-key birthday, you’ve been warned.”
"I still plan on being here, but what if I like the low-key birthdays? I'm old, remember," he tossed back, winking as he set down his mug. Other than that, he didn't mind the idea of birthday banners or celebrating with loved ones. The humbleness made him want to say he didn't deserve his own day, though. He'd never really had a problem with sharing a birthday with a holiday. Plus it was pretty much on brand for his whole Captain America schtick. If his birthday hadn't already been the fourth, would they have wanted him to claim it was anyway?
“Fair, fair,” Kate relented with a grin. “Wouldn’t want to get your hair going gray.” She wouldn’t actually force anything on Steve, no way, but she did want to do something more explicitly birthday for him next time around. In the end, she’d acquiesce to whatever he wanted – mostly by choice but probably partly at her sister’s insistence. She had come to love Steve, but there was nothing she wouldn’t do for Natasha.
She popped the second piece of toast, unbuttered, into her mouth, ripping off a hunk before turning to pull her freshly brewed coffee off the machine. She brought it back to the island and settled in to eat her toast with a little more composure.
“Do you physically age?” she questioned, reaching for the butter and knife to coat the remaining half of her second piece. “Like, does the serum slow that?” She’d never thought about that, but she doubted they’d chat as much when they actually got running. Might as well ask whatever happened into her early-morning, half-still high brain.
"Good question. I've been told in another universe, maybe even yours, I retired back in time and did in fact age. Doesn't sound like something I'd do, but I suppose that's a sign I can age, but I do think it's slowed considerably. It was enough to keep me frozen and still alive, I guess there's other things it can do."
Being put into stasis seemed to be the best way to keep him around, but that wasn't exactly something Steve was keen on. "To be honest, though, I hope I do age. I don't want to see everyone I care about get old and die." He picked his mug back up and stared at the dark liquid for a moment. "Sorry, that feels like it got dark for a moment."
“No, I asked,” Kate said with a shake of her head. Maybe it had gotten a little dark, but that was fine. She’d brought it up. And she’d suspected what answer she’d get – he was right, they had an old Steve Rogers back home. “I thought that would be the case, but, you know, different universe, Vallo.” She shrugged. “Who knows, right? But I guess you didn’t get blasted with an Infinity Stone, so why shouldn’t you age?”
"I didn't, though I suppose that's an interesting way to put it. Get blasted to live forever." He chuckled and swished his coffee a bit before taking a sip. It was already cooling, but that was fine. It started to develop more of a caramel-esque flavor as it cooled. He was curious about the science behind that, but not enough to ask Tony to explain it.
"My turn? I know you've adopted yourself into the family here, which means a lot to me, don't get me wrong. But I've never asked about your family back home. Tell me about them?"
Kate hummed mid-sip of her own coffee to acknowledge she heard him, then lowered her mug back to the countertop a moment later. Talking about her family was never a fun topic or one she relished. She chose to largely ignore it, which, yes, was unhealthy and led to her having shitty days sometimes. Days where she snapped at the people she loved for dumb reasons and was irrationally sensitive.
Today, she was still just numb enough that the prospect was less daunting. And fair was fair; she’d pried into Steve’s life, he could pry into hers. She trusted him.
“They… turned out to not be the best people,” she admitted. “My dad, he was involved in some shady dealings before he died, and my mom picked it right back up. He had debts to pay, so–” She bit her lip, considering for a moment before sighing out, “I get it, I guess. At first. But she stayed in too long, and she–”
She fell silent again, this time staring down at her coffee for a few moments as she tried to gather herself. She found herself fervently wishing Natasha had covered this topic with Steve for her. She may have been a Hawkeye and Black Widow fangirl back home, but no one in their right mind wanted to sit across from Captain America and admit that their mother was a killer.
“She’s in prison because she murdered her fiancé’s uncle,” she finished. “And I ended up here before we spoke again or had any chance to deal with that. So, it’s… not the best situation.”
Steve listened with no judgment and could tell this wasn't an easy topic for her. But he didn't pressure and gave her his full attention, letting her work through it and tell him what she was willing to share. When she'd finished, he felt kind of an urge to hug her, but wasn't going to make any assumptions there, either.
"People make bad decisions for good intentions unfortunately too often, and find themselves in something so deep they have no choice but to keep digging if they want to protect the ones they care for. I get it, too, I think. And I've defended people who've made those bad decisions, or were forced into them."
He raised his hands in kind of an upward-palm shrug and continued. "What I mean to say is that she clearly did wrong, but it sounds like she might've been protecting you to a degree."
“She would say the same thing.” Kate pressed her lips together in a tight smile before taking another drink from her mug. She didn’t want to judge her mother for her mistakes. She did believe she had been trying to protect her. She knew her mom loved her, even if she had a fucked up way of showing it sometimes. She knew she had done the best she could when her father died and left them in a terrible situation.
But there were mistakes and there was this – associating herself with Kingpin to the point of murdering a man. Armand III might not have been some sort of innocent; still, he hadn’t deserved that.
“I miss her, but I’m happy here. I would hate to never see her again, but I would hate to have missed out on what I have here even more.”
Natasha, Emily, Yelena, James, Steve, Pepper, Tony, Francis, Daud. They really had become her odd little makeshift family, and she wouldn’t change that for the world. She would always love her mother and hope that, back home, they figured it out. Maybe Eleanor even did better. But she had people she loved so fiercely here that imagining being without them hurt just as much.
"I can understand that. Some people have had brief visits from loved ones back home, maybe you'll get that chance when Vallo is feeling generous." While he'd not yet had any kind of experience like that, he'd known about the occasional parent showing up for a weekend or similar. He wasn't sure if it had been a chance to see them again or get some closure or just some completely random ripple in spacetime, but knowing it was possible was often one of the things that kept people going.
"As it stands, I'm happy to stand in as a big brother figure as long as you need one, in any case. I seem to already be pretty good at giving you challenges to accept." He raised his mug in kind of a toast gesture, shaking his head good-naturedly. "Unintended, of course."
“Maybe.” She didn’t hope so. She had no idea what she’d say with her mom here, how she’d deal with her, how she’d look at her. She knew her family here would step in to interfere if she needed it, that more likely than not, Natasha wouldn’t leave her alone for a second (unless she explicitly asked), but she didn’t want to think about it. The prospect was not a happy one, not right now.
She raised her mug to clink against his, accepting the toast. “Yeah, you don’t back down easily,” she concurred, then finished off her coffee with a final gulp. The mug returned to the table, and she looked at Steve. “Can I have a hug?”
Steve tilted his head slightly, putting down his mug. "You don't even have to ask." He smiled and wrapped his arms around Kate, pulling her into the biggest brotheriest hug he could manage. No other words, just a strong and comfortable embrace to be present and supportive. He'd often thought Kate had a lot more going on in the back of her mind than the pranks and jokes and challenges let on. He was pretty happy to have worked his way into that level of trust.
Kate sunk into the hug. This was one of her favorite things about guys in general – the best ones gave great hugs. And there was something comforting about feeling solid muscle give way to a touch of softness. Steve’s grip was still firm, but behind it, he felt downright cozy. It was enough to banish those bad feelings about her mother, for the time being.
When she pulled back, it was with reluctance and a grateful smile. “Thanks, Steve.” She got to her feet and nodded toward the door. “We better get out there before the sun comes up. Take advantage before the heat starts beating down on us, right?”
With a nod, Steve rolled his shoulders and warmed up his knees with a few lifts. "Right. Put this coffee energy to use, too. I'm thinking to the park and then a few times around the lake, my usual morning run?" Not waiting for acknowledgment, since it was largely a rhetorical question, he exited the front door and started heading towards their destination while keeping his promise of maintaining a pace where Kate could keep up.
Who knew, maybe he could get her out doing this with him more often.