Captain America and Bucky Barnes Imagines

60. STEVE: As I Love You

Words: 3.8K

Warnings: Language and family-related tension with an abusive/verbally demeaning father-figure

A/N: I wrote this because I have a bit of experience with the crappy-dad thing, so I was feeling thoughtful and decided to start a couple of imagines that mean a lot to me. Thankfully I no longer live in a negative environment. This is in no way a true story (although I wish I could say Steve Rogers was my boyfriend). That being said, I may be writing more stories like this later because I have a lot of strong inspirations with story lines like this. We'll see.

If anyone is going through anything like this at their home currently please feel free to reach out to me: or to talk about anything. I'm always here! And I've been through, and survived, similar things.

Lots of love,

Winnie

It was late April when I got my sister's wedding invitation in the mail. If Steve hadn't been sitting right beside me when I'd opened it I would've thrown it away before he could see. I would've planned to go by myself or not go at all: burying the invite at the bottom of the trash bin so that Steve wouldn't ever know that he'd been invited, too. But that's not how it happened: not even close. Steve saw the invitation and how it glittered on the edges with gold. He smiled, elated that his name was printed there too, and then immediately started planning our trip to Maine. Within the hour our flights were booked. I did my best to remind him that this may not go as well as he plans: my family is... well, they're different. But Steve shook his head and gave me a warm smile. He wanted to meet them, he claimed. It'd been almost a year we've been together and he's never even seen their faces. It's about time, we both agreed, but I couldn't help but feel nauseous deep down inside. I tried to tell him; I tried to warn him what walking into that house would be like, but no words would come. I supposed that he'd eventually see. And if he still wanted to be with me after what he'd seen, well, I know that he was the one for me.

So Steve and I fly out to Maine one night in July. We arrive in the early hours of the morning the next day with our heavy bags in our arms and under our eyes: mine from stress and his from choosing work over sleep.

The steps leading up to my childhood home are rickety and peeling white paint. The home itself is beautiful: built of masonry stone of cherry red. The pillars are tall and white. Flowerboxes bloom with rosemary and mint leaves to perfume the air. Those broken, molding stairs are the only real indication of what lies inside those beautiful walls.

"I know you said your dad was an attorney, but this is..." Steve stops in front of the doorbell. "This is beautiful."

I never really elaborated on how much money I'd been lucky enough to have as a kid. I suppose it didn't really matter very much in the end: I was still miserable.

"I don't think this is a good idea," I tell Steve before taking him by the hand. I sort of start tugging him backwards. "Let's stay at a hotel instead."

"What?" Steve laughs lightly. "Hon, don't be silly. Your mom invited us here. Your sister's staying here too, and so is your brother. It'll be fun!" His smile falters slightly when he sees the very real strain on my face. He takes both of my hands in his. "What is it, babe? What's worrying you?" His blue eyes flutter all over my face. "Is it me not liking them? Or them not liking me?"

"No, it's not—it's not that." I almost want to laugh at the ridiculousness of the idea of them not liking Steve, the righteous and brave Captain America. "It's..." I hesitate, but eventually admit, "It's my dad."

"You said he was difficult, but that's fine."

I let out a sigh. "That was me being generous." Steve watches my face patiently while I go on. "He can be really cruel sometimes, Steve. I just don't want him to say anything that'll upset you." I close a bit more of the distance between us until I can almost rest my cheek against his chest. "It's hard for me to not get upset and I've known the guy my whole life. It's part of the reason I hardly ever come home anymore."