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Not Happy, Not Independent, but still a Day to be Remembered
It's two days before when Natasha finally remembers.
There's fewer channels than there used to be but the world has somehow kept on spinning after Thanos. People need a news source. There's a somber section tacked on at the end of the morning program reminding people to contact their remaining loved ones and be safe this coming Independence Day and that's it. The next thing Natasha knows she's shattering a perfectly good souvenir coffee mug Tony stocked this place up with and swearing up a storm because it's about to be the Fourth of July.
Now, Steve's never been big on birthday celebrations. Tony threw huge parties for him the first couple of years after they all came together on Independence Day half as a joke and half because no one actually knew when his real birthday was. It was Clint who finally got it out of him that, yes, all joking and propaganda aside this was his actual birthday. The jokes were twice as bad that year. Lately though things have been a lot quieter. The team started to fall apart. Steve and Tony never did see eye to eye.
And now...?
If Natasha doesn't do something for Steve there's a good chance no one will. Oh sure, people might make some blog posts or tag an abandoned building in Captain America's honor. It's touching. Sweet. But they're not friends nor are those wishes for Steve Rogers as a person. The man himself certainly isn't going to do it. If he remembers his birthday at all it'll be to sit in his room listening to old records sipping alcohol that won't affect him while he remembers people who are dead. Birthdays should be for the living.
It's about time Steve remembers he's got people here.
The spy scoops up her phone, fingers tapping impatiently at the lock screen so she can make a call.
"Rocket. Tell me you're in this sector. We've got work to do."
There's fewer channels than there used to be but the world has somehow kept on spinning after Thanos. People need a news source. There's a somber section tacked on at the end of the morning program reminding people to contact their remaining loved ones and be safe this coming Independence Day and that's it. The next thing Natasha knows she's shattering a perfectly good souvenir coffee mug Tony stocked this place up with and swearing up a storm because it's about to be the Fourth of July.
Now, Steve's never been big on birthday celebrations. Tony threw huge parties for him the first couple of years after they all came together on Independence Day half as a joke and half because no one actually knew when his real birthday was. It was Clint who finally got it out of him that, yes, all joking and propaganda aside this was his actual birthday. The jokes were twice as bad that year. Lately though things have been a lot quieter. The team started to fall apart. Steve and Tony never did see eye to eye.
And now...?
If Natasha doesn't do something for Steve there's a good chance no one will. Oh sure, people might make some blog posts or tag an abandoned building in Captain America's honor. It's touching. Sweet. But they're not friends nor are those wishes for Steve Rogers as a person. The man himself certainly isn't going to do it. If he remembers his birthday at all it'll be to sit in his room listening to old records sipping alcohol that won't affect him while he remembers people who are dead. Birthdays should be for the living.
It's about time Steve remembers he's got people here.
The spy scoops up her phone, fingers tapping impatiently at the lock screen so she can make a call.
"Rocket. Tell me you're in this sector. We've got work to do."
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Something Steve hasn't had a whole lot of lately or really ever since he woke up with his enhanced body.
Thor may be upset that he hasn't brought anything to give Steve but just him being here is giving the soldier a reprieve he hadn't even known he'd needed. He slows down while he eats, glancing over at Thor while the other speaks.
"Lotta folks are having to learn new ways to adapt. I'm surprised every day by how resourceful and resilient they are."
They're both going to get a generous slice of the bread handed to them by Natasha when she sits down nibbling on what looks to be a literal Grilled cheese sandwich. She hasn't been in on the conversation up until now but settles herself into a chair easily as though she'd been here the whole time.
"Speaking of getting the hang of things, you can both keep your opinions to yourselves if the pound cake isn't very good. I'm a lot of things but a homemaker sure as hell isn't one."
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The longer he sits here, the more his nerves ease, and he can't blame it on the weak beer this time. It's been harder to smile in recent days, but today, it's just a little easier.
"I am too," he agrees, and hopes that the Asgardians can learn to be just as adaptive as those whose homeworld they now share.
Thor smiles when Natasha joins them, accepting the bread with a nod of thanks. He doesn't quite laugh at her preemptive defense of her cooking, just shifts in his seat a little to include her in their comfortable little circle. "It's a cake, how bad could it be?"
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It was never something she had to wonder about before but there's been no reason to school her expressions when she spends most of her time working alone in an office.
"We're supposed to be celebrating your birthday not reminding you of the goddamn Great Depression. But I'll keep that in mind next time I want to fix you a snack. Onion sandwiches maybe." She chuckles softly around her beer but outright laughs when Steve nudges her chair to tip back precariously before he lets her settle in her seat.
"If I'd dropped my grilled cheese you'd all be dead men. Anyway, I made a fruit topping to go on it. It looked a bit dry."
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"I'm sure it'll be delicious," he says, in regards to the cake and its accompaniment. And then, because Steve is in a good mood and because Thor knows this Midgardian birthday tradition perfectly well, he adds, "Are you planning to make us all sing?"
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"No, I couldn't make you do that. And Steve could stop me if I tried." The former spy takes a far too dainty sip out of her bottle and nibbles at her grilled cheese sandwich while a silence falls across the little patio chairs and table they're all sitting on and around.
Just long enough for the hope to maybe be there that she's going to let the conversation drop. Nebula is eyeing this from across the yard carefully.
"But he really couldn't stop you if you wanted to, Thor. And it is tradition."
Steve's groan is going to make anyone in earshot crane heads to see.
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It's Rocket of all people who comes to his rescue. He's had enough experience with Terran birthday nonsense to know this tradition, too. "Not until we set the cake on fire, it ain't," he says, immediately abandoning his plate of food next to Nebula to get candles and a lighter.
"Yes, exactly," Thor agrees quickly, rallying himself in the reprieve that moment gives him.
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Steve watches the duo disappear inside with a slow shake of his head. He knows not what he does, only that it seems to have caught Nebula's interest. She's quiet so much of the time but it's clear in moments like this that she is starting to feel as though she belongs.
"I don't want to hear smoke alarms going off you hear me!" Rhodes is calling out after the two Guardians, more aware than most of what is being risked here. But he won't leave his spot by the grill. Not while there's still meat to churn out. "Alright you guys help yourselves in the meantime. I've got a decent spread available now."
"...Thanks Rhodey." Steve flashes the fellow soldier a tired smile before he climbs back out of his seat. "Nat, Thor? Can I get you anything?"
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Since they seem to have things well in hand, Thor is free to focus on the more immediately interesting part of the gathering, which is the plethora of grilled meats beginning to pile up next to the grill. Though at first he intends to let Steve fetch food for his friends since that seems to make him happy, once he opens his mouth to answer it occurs to him that between the two of them, plus Natasha, that might be a tall order for one man to carry alone. Even if that man is Steve Rogers. Plus, it's his birthday, he probably shouldn't be doing all the work. "Steak, of course, but I'll give you a hand with it."
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"Chicken's fine for me. The marinade's a family secret, so I've been eager to try it, see if I got it right." A Barton family secret, that is. But they were her family. Natasha's not too proud to admit it anymore, though they're no longer here to know it.
"I'll have to have a bit myself then." Steve quips with a knowing small nod before he and Thor look over what's on offer. "Smells good. Let's load up."
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He takes custody of Steve's plate as well, so the man himself has both hands free to fix Natasha's. With only weak beer in his system so far, Thor's hands are more than steady enough to get two fully loaded plates back to the table safely.
Rocket emerges from the complex, Nebula in tow, carrying a pack of lightly-used birthday candles. He nicks the grill lighter from Rhodes on the way, smooth as you please. "All right, just stick 'em in wherever," he tells Nebula, nodding to the cake.
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It's a quiet murmur from Steve while he carves up a couple chicken breasts, one for Natasha and one for himself, before he tends to the steak to do much of the same. Nat watches him divvy up the food so that she can try some of the beef as well and can't help but to duck her head with a small grin. It's bittersweet, this. But it's almost fun. She thought she'd forgotten what happiness in any capacity could feel like.
"Careful on your way back, boys. Rocket's got the stuff for the cake." She can also see that Nebula's found the compote and the whipped cream from the fridge to top it with. Nat offers her a flit of a grin by way of thanks though it only gets her a blank stare in return before Rocket's got Nebula's attention well and focused on the cake.
"Wherever, huh." Rocket should know better. She's going to stick them perfectly even apart, making a little checkerboard distribution over the loaf cake with every single one of the candles in the box. When she glances back at Rocket she's quietly pleased with herself. "This will maximize the fire on the cake."
"You heard the lady, Steve. Your whole cake is about to be on fire."
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"I suppose it could be worse," Thor says to Steve, as an aside. "He could have used an actual blowtorch."
Emboldened by the break from everyone else staring at him, Thor impulsively looks around at them again, the look on his face hopefully implying that they'd better not leave him to his own devices on this one, before he clears his throat and begins the traditional Midgardian birthday song. He hasn't had cause to sing in some time, and his voice is rougher than it once was, but this is for Steve and if ever there was a time to push past his discomfort, it's now. Celebrating that someone he cares about still lives, and can share the day with his friends.
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Not near enough voices. Natasha sings twice as loud as she normally would for Clint who isn't here. For Tony who can't let the past go. For Wanda and Vis, for Sam and for Bucky. For every person who should be here and either can't or isn't. Those who're left sing.
Because they're all each other's got.
Steve wipes at his eye with the heel of one palm when they've finished. Takes a look at the cake Nebula's holding out to him. He doesn't need Natasha chipping in to make a wish and blow out the candles. There's only one wish any of them have. One that's seemingly impossible but he wishes for it anyway.
A way to make things right again.
Steve blows out the candles to a round of uncoordinated applause.
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In the past, Thor might have been tempted to ask Steve what his wish was. But not today. There's only one thing that he wants, that any of them want, and if this simple birthday magic has any real power to it, then Thor would believe in it as much as any of them.
For now, they have each other. Perhaps today, that is enough.