Absolute Gravity

Tony had most of my things sent from my house in DC. So instead of resting after the flight, like Dana and Friday insisted, I spent the afternoon putting away my clothes. I found things I’d bought years ago when I didn’t have a care in the world about how I looked. When I bought clothes based on necessity and the SHIELD dress code or how comfortable they were when I wasn’t at work. But I had a few things from Romania too. Things I’d stuffed into my backpack when Bucky was unconscious and bleeding.

I didn’t pick out any of those clothes. Not voluntarily. Bucky would just sometimes scour thrift stores and grab trash bags full of clothes. We’d go through them, pick out the things we could use, and donate the rest or give them away. One of the things I’d kept was an old blue dress that was probably stylish in the nineties. It had snap buttons down the front, and even though I never wore dresses, I kept it anyway. For the summer, when it was too hot to wear jeans and I’d be confined to the stuffy apartment building.

I loved that dress. Not because it was comfortable or even my style or anything. Bucky never said anything about it. But I’d sometimes see his eyes linger on my legs, or he’d gently brush a few fingers against my thigh. One time even went so far as to kiss me against the kitchen counter and wedge his knee between my legs, finger slowly skating over and up. I liked how he touched me when I wore the dress. The shock of his fingers against my bare skin. The hungry look in his eyes. And so, I wore it often enough that it became a favorite. I couldn’t part with it. But I couldn’t bring myself to wear it either. I stuffed it into a drawer and hid it from sight.

The things I had from before were mine, but it felt like forever ago. I was a different person when I picked up random shirts from clearance racks and tossed them into my cart without a second glance. I’d had more time back then. More time to think about the things I bought. More time to build memories.

When Tony asked me if I had any special requests for my “new place,” I didn’t have much to tell him. I wanted no part of the design process. I didn’t care how it was laid out or what amenities it had. The only thing I’d asked for at all was a picture frame. “Nothing fancy,” I told him.

But Tony could never do anything half-assed. The empty frame on the dresser wasn’t something that could be chosen haphazardly and tossed into a cart without a single thought. It was shiny and probably real silver, handpicked by Tony’s assistant and shipped directly from Tiffany’s warehouse. It was more luxurious and expensive than it needed to be for a single photo snapped on an old camera in Romania.

It was a picture of the two of us. When we had dinner together at Elena’s and she wanted photographic evidence that we existed in her space at one time. He had his arm around the back of my chair and was smiling down at me. We hadn’t posed for the first one, but Bucky reluctantly allowed it. Only she kept taking pictures after that. So this one showed the moment after. Before he realized she was still going. When he looked down at me and smiled about how irritating it was to have his picture taken.

I knew he missed me too. I could see it on his face, captured in the past. He looked at me like that all the time. In the mornings when he woke before I did. When we cooked dinner together in the small kitchen. Sometimes I’d catch it unexpectedly. When we’d practice my Romanian together or just do chores. I’d look up and see him looking at me just like that. A soft smile. History and understanding. “You’re my person, and I’m yours.” Or, as Graham had once said, “He looks at you like you’re the most beautiful and important person in his life.”

I took a deep breath and worked through the lump in my throat. The bed was too soft. Too plush and clean and empty. I missed the feel of scratchy sleeping bags and an uncomfortable mattress. A single pillow that was so mangled it was almost better to sleep without it. We only ever used it to cushion my head against his arm, which he liked to sleep with beneath me. Or when he’d reach for it in the height of passion, too afraid to touch me just in case he squeezed too hard with his metal hand. He always needed something to squeeze. He couldn’t hold it back.

I tucked the photo inside, ignoring the sudden beeping of the monitor on my wrist that was letting me know my heart rate had just increased. That would be embarrassing if I ever got to be around other people. I set the frame back down on the nightstand. The cell would never be home. But with that one memory, it felt just a little more like one.

“Miss Hayes, you have visitors,” Friday told me. I stood and prepared to make an excuse for Dana. Why I wasn’t listening and resting even though I promised I would. Or whatever else she was going to scold me for.

“Who is it?” I asked.

“Some friends,” is all she said.

She didn’t seem to like me as much as Jarvis did. Or maybe Tony just programmed her that way. I wasn’t sure. Only that she seemed to lack Jarvis’s sense of humor when it came to me. Not that she didn’t throw out the occasional snarky quip, just that it wasn’t said with the same backdrop of affection. Jarvis had wanted, truly, to be my friend. And the proof was now an android named Vision, who had become an awkward dork of a person.

I didn’t know what Friday meant by friends. But I got up and went to the living room to find out. I came around the corner and jerked to a halt. I don’t know who I expected. Tony left almost the moment we arrived, and we’d only brought Dana and Vision with us. But she’d been ushered off to her new suite once I was settled. I didn’t know anyone else in Malibu. As far as I knew, both Clara and Graham were still in New York.

I was wrong, apparently. Because they were standing on the other side of the glass beside Dana. Clara looked hostile, Dana looked concerned, and Graham just looked excited. Like he was doing everything he could to not burst with affection like a friendly dog. He stayed back, though, reading the room and realizing Clara and I probably had words we needed to share. She stood still and poised like a sharp extension of Stark. All lethal length and silver silk. She looked me up and down. I looked like an absolute mess in comparison.

“So it’s true?” she said. I didn’t know how much Tony had told her about me. I wasn’t even aware that she knew I was back. Of course, she deserved to know, but he wasn’t afraid to keep information to himself when he thought he was justified. Even if he was wrong.

“Is what true?”

“That you ran off with the man who murdered my son’s grandparents.”

I flinched. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to answer that. So I just said nothing. She took a deep breath when she realized I wouldn’t respond. She was good at holding herself together. But I could see that it was a façade. Her hair was already starting to curl again in the humidity. Her eyes were glassy. There was anger simmering beneath her shiny surface.

“Your hair is different,” she pointed out. “Darker. I always like it when you wear it long like that. It looks messy as hell but maybe if you just run a brush through it—actually—you don’t look so good, Jo.”

“I don’t feel so good,” I admitted. That was all I could say. I really felt like my body was trying to contain a dying star and was slowly ripping me apart. My heart was a thousand miles away, and I’d started that morning by vomiting black blood into the toilet on the jet. She gave a curt nod, trying to get herself back on track.

“There are probably some things we should talk about, but—I’m not sure I’m ready yet.”

“I know. It’s fine. I get it.” She took another deep breath to steady herself.

“Tony and I are getting married. I want you to be there. It probably won’t be until after your birthday. I didn’t want to make any definite plans until you got back. So we still need to set a date.” I nodded back. I hoped I’d live long enough to make it.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“You’re obviously going to be my maid-of-honor but don’t worry about planning anything for me. I know there isn’t much you can do right now. But we can do some online shopping when you’re up for it.”

“Right. Sure. Sounds fun.”

She gave me another quick nod and marched out of the room, heels clicking on the tile in the entryway. My heart sank as I watched the doors swing shut behind her. I missed her. I had things I wanted to say before I kicked it. But when she was right in front of me, my tongue felt heavy, and I couldn’t get the words out.

“Give her time, dziaucyna,” Dana said.

“I’m not sure how much of that I have left. But it’s fine. I won’t push her. I’d be angry too.”

“You look sick,” Graham said now that he was free to open his big mouth. I cut my eyes to him and smiled. He looked good. More cleaned up. Less like a goofy kid and more like a grown-up with a real job. “And not in a cool 90s way. More like you’re gonna throw up.”

“Could be worse. I could look like you.” He grinned back.

“It’s so good to see you. I wish I could hug you. You look like someone who needs a hug.”

“It’s good to see you too. How have you been?”

“Me? I’m great. Stark is covering all my medical bills, so I’m just peachy. Look, I got a new knee and everything.” He leaned down to tap it like I’d be able to hear the prosthetic under his skin. “It’s wicked good. I barely limp now at all.”

“That’s great. Does it still hurt sometimes?”

“Sometimes. But not as bad. I can walk longer without feeling like I’m dragging lead.”

“That’s great. I’m glad to hear it. I thought you were in New York. Working at the compound?” He stood back up and raised two bushy brown eyebrows. But, of course, he couldn’t know that I’d seen the newspaper.

“I was. For a bit. Mostly just training. But then Stark sent me here.”

“Why? Did it not work out?” He adjusted his big feet, more agile than before.

“Well, the Accords happened. Stark and I didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye on everything. I know I’m not an Avenger, so my opinion doesn’t count. But you know how bad I am at keeping my mouth shut.” I was definitely aware of it.

“I get it. I didn’t agree with how it was handled either.”

“It’s all good. Turns out I’m better at this PR stuff anyway. So he sent me here to work with Clara. She’s been kind of mentoring me.”

“Are they doing okay?”

“I mean, yeah. They’re getting married. But you know them. They’re both workaholics. Sometimes I have to remind her to take a break and eat something, or she’ll just go all day long.”

“I imagine representing Tony Stark takes a lot of work.”

“More than you know. But yeah, he travels a lot, and we tend to stay here unless we’re absolutely needed in New York. She prefers it there, but Stark thought it would be better to raise Bernie here. Oh man, you haven’t even met Bernie yet, have you?” I shook my head.

“No—I don’t—know if it’s really safe for him to be around me.” He tapped his knuckles on the glass between us.

“Why not? Seems pretty safe to me. Stark filled us in before you got here. I get it, though. But he’s your nephew. You should meet him.”

“I’d like to.”

As usual, his face betrayed his thoughts before his mouth. He went somber and slid his hands into his pockets. He rocked back on his feet, struggling with his desire to blurt it out and recognizing that he probably shouldn’t.

“Hey—I’m really sorry about your Captain. I was really bummed when we got the news. I only met him one time, but he seemed like a cool guy. And I know you cared about each other.” I nodded and looked away. Dana was still there, silently watching this conversation.

“Yeah—I really miss him.”

“I’m sorry, Jo. I know you’ve been through a lot.”

“I’ll be fine. I always persevere.”

“Still—it’s good to have you back. I missed you and all that gross sappy stuff. I’ll just come by to chill or whatever. I do have a real job now, though. Mr. Stark has been really cool about it even though we don’t always agree on things.”

“No burrito torpedos?” He laughed.

“Not lately, but the weird thing is that Stark actually loved the burrito torpedo story. Said he’d build me a suit for it.” I snorted.

“He would.”

“But for real, I’m sorry about everything that happened, but I’m still glad you’re here. I think you’re the closest thing to a best friend I’ve had in a long time, so—I’ll be here if you ever need me. Or whatever.” I smiled. Of course, he couldn’t just say something nice without including a ‘or whatever.’ Lest I mistake him for being serious for once.

“Thanks, Graham.”

“I should probably get back to work, but I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“If my schedule allows for it.” I motioned toward my empty cell. He just smiled and then let himself out.

I released a held breath of tension. I didn’t have to pretend in front of Dana. She already saw the worst of it.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, stepping forward and wringing her hands.

“Hurts today,” I admitted. “Probably the flight. Also, just—really sad. I miss him.”

“I know. And I also know that—wherever he is—he misses you too.”