Forever Captain: “The Hemingway Trip” - 9. Wanted

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Forever Captain:
“The Hemingway Trip”
By Phoebe Roberts
~~~

Summary: “In the twenty years since Steve Rogers returned to the midcentury to build a life and family, he’s always been surprised at how close he became with Howard Stark. But it’s that very closeness that makes him the only person Howard can talk to when he’s wrestling with something big.

Nothing like a fishing trip to give the boys a chance to talk.”

Previous chapters:
1. Birds of Odd Feathers
2. In the Drink
3. Rough Time
4. Before This Day Ends
5. Nobody's Hero
6. Promises to Keep
7. Coming Clean
8. Old Men

Chapter summary: Steve helps Howard come to a decision about fatherhood, and comes to one of his own about his place as the man out of time.

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9. Wanted

"Yes," Steve said at last. "It does."

Howard set his teeth and breathed out hard. His head bowed abruptly, as if in defeat. "I don't know, okay? I don't know about any of this."

A pit slowly formed in the bottom of Steve's stomach, but he tried to give no sign.

"You know me, I never liked kids. Never knew shit about them 'til running into yours."

"Yeah," Steve said dryly. "I got that idea when you gave Jamie a monogrammed lighter for his tenth birthday."

"Hey, when I was his age, all I wanted to do was play with fire." Howard scrubbed a hand down his face. "Hell, maybe I never grew past it— ain't like I'm responsible. My whole life I did everything in my power to avoid getting roped into this, and that didn't change after I stopped being a free agent."

As long as Steve had known him, he'd made that clear, with his consternation every time he'd heard Peggy was pregnant, his unwillingness to have much to do with the kids when they were too little, his frequent protestations of terror at the chaos of parental life. Every time, it filled Steve with vague foreboding, and now the thing he'd dreaded was finally coming to pass.

Howard heaved a sigh, as if exhausted. "And now… I'm fifty-three years old, Steve. Maria's forty. If we were going to do this, we should have done it a long time ago."

Steve bowed his head and rubbed his brow. "I get it."

Howard turned to look at him. "Do you?" His eyes narrowed. "Thought you were a big fan of little buggers."

"I am."

"Hm. Gotta admit, I half expected you to try and talk me into it."

Steve tensed, ever so slightly. "That's not my place."

Howard sighed again, pressing his forehead into his palm. "Yeah. I know." He actually smirked. "Sorry, but— guess I just assume, when you get quiet these days, it's 'cause you know something and won't tell me."

Steve laughed raggedly. "You always think that anyway."

"Yeah, well. I've given up asking at this point. But can't blame me wondering."

It had been a frequent point of contention, Steve's refusal to talk about what he'd seen of the world to come. He couldn't blame the man for wondering— if there was a path laid out before him, as if there was something that was supposed to be. But that wasn't how it worked.

What could he say? That he was worried that if Howard didn't stick it out, the world was going to end? He'd felt similarly when Howard's marriage was on the line, threatening to break up before Tony could even be conceived. It had taken all his strength to put his friends first, to tell Howard he had to do right by Maria even if that meant things ended. And then there was the matter of Maria's life, unlikely to be lost to the Winter Soldier if she was no longer Howard's wife. But then, Howard had wanted to save his marriage— both of them had, of their own free will. Steve hadn't had to fight either against them, or the progress of time. One step of the future was secure, even if their own weren't.

Even now, after all these years, after everything he'd been through, he was still not completely sure just how much power he had to change things. And at any given point, whether he was in danger of shifting the progress of time, for better or for worse, would never be clear. There were some moments when the risk seemed so huge that it staggered him— the idea that the man who reversed the Snap and saved half of existence might never be there to do it. To say nothing of the thought of his friend, a person he knew and cared about, never coming to be.

But now, in spite of it all… how could he talk a man into a child he didn't want?

That wasn't how this worked. "What do you want to do, Howard?"

He blew out hard through his teeth. "Looks like I don't get a choice."

Steve looked away from him. "I don't know if that's true."

Howard scoffed. "You kidding me?"

Steve shrugged. "You have money, Howard, you know people. If you don't want this, there are things you could do."

"Are you honestly suggesting what I think you are?" The other man stared at him hard, brows drawing. "You really jake with that?"

Steve shifted uncomfortably. "Honestly, I don't know if I am." For more reason than one. "But if you and Maria really don't want this…"

"You think that's better?"

Steve looked back at Howard very seriously. "No kid should have a dad who doesn't want him."

Howard was silent a long moment. He seemed more thrown than Steve expected he would.

"You know, the other day I heard Maria," he said at last. "In the closet, getting dressed. I thought she was talking to herself, but she wasn't. She was talking to it. The kid."

Steve couldn't help but smile. "What was she saying?"

"Getting on its case for how nauseous she's been. 'I've got a big day today. You'd better knock it off, if you know what's good for you.' I thought I'd be losing my own lunch… but I wasn't. I just wanted to tell it we were on to it."

Howard growled out a sigh and buried his head in his hands. "Jesus Christ, Steve, I don't know how the hell to be a dad!"

"Does anybody?" Steve asked. "Kids don't come with an instruction manual. But most guys figure it out."

"Most guys probably had some dad they learned something from!" Howard glanced at Steve. "What about you? Did you get along with your old man?"

Steve shrugged. "I never knew him. He died on the Western Front when I was a month old."

"Huh," Howard murmured. "Well. Mine was a bastard. He thought he could bring me up with the buckle end of a belt. All I learned was he deserved a sock in the mouth."

"Doesn't mean you're doomed," Steve said. "You can learn from him and do better. I mean… folks might have said you couldn't be a good husband either, once upon a time."

Howard snorted. "And I don't have a perfect track record at that either. Come on, Steve. I'm a selfish, short-tempered, closed-off son of a bitch. Do you actually think being a dad would change that?"

Steve's stomach went tight. That was the trouble, wasn't it? Frankly, the evidence was against him. Steve had never known either Tony or Howard while the other was alive; Howard didn't even have memories the way Tony had. But from everything Steve had seen, the relationship had been so fraught, to the point that Tony carried the scars well into adulthood. Steve knew the pain that was possible; he couldn't lie about that.

But still. He was uncertain about the future to come for a reason. Things were not set in stone.

"Kids change everything," he said finally. "Maybe they don't make you an entirely new person. But you can't love somebody like that without it changing you."

"And… you do?" Howard looked down at his hands. "Love them like that, I mean."

Steve smiled. "You're trying to talk to him and he isn't even here yet. He's got you already."

Howard scratched at the back of his neck. "Me," he mused. "Somebody's papa. Is that the worst idea ever?" He swallowed. "That's a whole person we're talking about. What if I screw it up?"

Steve's heart twisted, but he gave no sign. "It's like anything else. You're going to have to resolve to do it right, and then do it." He chuckled a little. "Don't tell me there's something the great Howard Stark can't do."

"Don't test me, brother." Howard grinned. "The Fuhrer didn't like what he found when he tried that."

"That's true. A kid is nothing, compared to that."

Howard considered that. Then he pointed to the cooler, and gestured for Steve to toss him another beer. He lifted it, and took up his neglected fishing pole. "I guess this calls for a toast— you haven't congratulated me yet. I'm going to be a father." He sipped. "You know, the pictures made me think people made more of a fuss about these things."

"Well. You could have brought cigars or something," Steve said. "But if you want a fuss, just wait 'til you tell Jarvis. He's going to be over the moon."

"Huh. Yeah. He's a sucker for a baby all right. Good to know I've got something to keep the guy on my side." Howard chuckled, then paused a moment, rattling the can in his hands. "And what about you?"

"Oh, I am more than a sucker. Man, are you in for it, pal." Steve smiled too then, and answered what Howard was really asking. "And I've always been there for you. Why would that change now?"

His friend took another slug, to hide his expression, but Steve wasn't fooled. He knew what it meant to Howard to know that, whatever came, Steve was in his corner.

And that was what counted, he knew. Whatever he encountered, the answer was always the same. He had to do the best he could for the people in his life, just the same as anyone. They needed the man beside them to be there, not the man out of time to tell a future that was neither certain nor within their control.

He and Howard cast again, and he spared a moment to imagining Tony as a baby, a little kid, or— God help them —a teenager, like Steve's own kids were. He didn't know whether to laugh or to shudder, and found himself doing both. He was going to see all of it, every step of the way, until Tony became the man he would fight with, beside, and for. Or maybe a different man, because this world was different now. He couldn't know, but then, he didn't have to.

The line in Howard's hands twitched, and suddenly he jumped. "Oh! Oh, shit!" He snatched up the pole and pulled, working the reel like Steve had taught him. With a little finagling, before long he hauled out a feisty young bass, wet and wriggling on the end of his hook.

"Would you look at that son of a bitch!" he crowed, gaping at it. Carefully he unhooked the fish, fingers trembling, just a little. "Jesus Christ. Almost forgot what we were here for."

"See," Steve murmured. "You're picking up new things already. There's hope for you yet."

"Imagine that. Well, one fish ain't enough for a fry. Can't quit while we're making progress." Howard reached for the tackle box. "Better bust out the sandwiches, pal. Got a lot of work ahead of us."
~~~

THE END