Chapter Text
Steve was a walker.
It was a little known fact to most-- well he wouldn't really call it a fact when it was more like a pretty apparent habit. No matter the mood, happy or sad, Steve found himself walking to process whatever he had in mind. Something about focusing on getting one foot in front of the other, of being lost in a sea of people and blending in as just another face in the crowd gave him a sense of peace and normalcy he achingly missed. And on a day like today, Steve really needed a good walk.
Litigation concerning Bucky's status as a wanted fugitive was at an all time high. The constant back and forth with lawyers, the general public, and judicial and political figures who were either the key to Bucky's eternal incarceration or ultimate freedom was taking a toll on Steve. He often felt like the buffer to every blow and as much as it often hurt he'd continue to do it for one of the most important people in his life. But today, today Steve really needed to escape the void of angry and frustrated voices who insisted that the man he'd known his whole life was an irredeemable monster.
So he walked. With each step the static buzz of grief seemed to lift off his clouded mind, a breeze of calm filling his lungs with every breath of dewy air. The remnants of petrichor lingering in the air, an always pleasant scent he thought. The browns and greys of Brooklyn filling him with a kind of unique warmth he could never really feel anywhere else, even if this place had changed into a mostly unrecognizable homeland while he'd lain frozen in time. Sometimes the change felt excruciatingly jarring but as Steve rounded the corner to the world behind his block he'd never bothered to venture into, he set his sights on an explosion of life. The welcome kind of change brought a smile to his face.
He didn't know much about plants, Sam had gotten him a small peace lily as a welcome home present once, but he'd killed it within his first week in the new apartment. Regardless of his lack of awareness of plants, he could not resist to cross the threshold of the old iron gate which enclosed a world of greenery, a community garden he guessed. The air of the place felt almost magical, a sense of calm he'd long become unfamiliar with settling in his chest. With every crunching step he took upon the charming trails of dirt, mulch, and stone the calm began to envelope him further. It struck him, here it was in the heart of the city...quiet beautiful life.
He happily watched as a mother and her small child with matching pom poms of tight curls picked a small basket full of ripe and bright red tomatoes from their emerald green vines, talks of helping each other make spaghetti sauce for dinner coaxing a smile on his face. Across the ways, in a half empty flower bed, an older woman with a shock of white hair and sunkissed skin planted new seeds. He wondered just what would bloom from them until she staked a small sign with the words “ English Cucumbers ” painted on it into the dirt when she had finished watering them. It was the quietest place in all of Brooklyn, he thought. The world seemed to truly go still here, the sun shining just a little bit brighter, color more saturated and alive.
He was so lost in the atmosphere of this little patch of existence that he practically leapt out of his skin when he felt a warm hand tap at his shoulder. Standing just behind him was a woman, absentmindedly removing a pair of neon pink garden gloves, the lovely straw hat upon on her head shading her bright but warm eyes. An amused but kind giggle erupting from her as she spoke:
“I'm so sorry. Didn't mean to scare you! You seem new 'round here, just thought I'd just come and say hi. I'm ___.” she said, a friendly hand extended in greeting. Steve shook her hand in his warm grip, giving her an appreciative smile in return.
“Thank you, ma'am. I'm Steve.” He neglected to throw in his last name, he wanted to keep some semblance of normalcy left in this quiet little world for just a little longer.
“Nice to meet you Steve. What brings you to our little patch of heaven? You from around here?” she said, adjusting her hat just a smidge as it began to slide down. Steve noticed a small wisp of dirt on her cheek -- probably from wiping her face with the back of a glove. Her clearly worn blue shirt hugged her comfortably and her well loved pair of jeans sported a couple of tears. She seemed a homey woman to say the least.
“Oh, yeah... I actually live just on the other side of the block. Haven't left my apartment in a few days, thought some fresh air would be nice and stumbled across the place,” he said, “Haven't had much time to explore the ol' neighborhood either, since...since I moved back. Thought I should get better acquainted with it. I wasn't aware a place like this even existed in the middle of Brooklyn! It's beautiful.” He gazed around in wonder, the sparkle of new discovery in his eyes. She gave him a proud grin.
“Thanks Steve. The community works hard to make the garden a safe, welcoming place. Glad to see our efforts are working, seeing as it coaxed you in here,” she said with a sweet laugh, “Would you like a tour?” Steve couldn't help but beam at the idea of being introduced this serene little world.
She beckoned him to follow her, traversing the flowering maze and its pathways with keen experience and with little effort or even need to look at where she was going, sometimes walking backwards as she talked to Steve. It was clear to Steve she was at home here, knowing the name of every plant, vegetable, and flower in the garden as they passed by and just who had planted them. Her connection to the life, but more importantly, to the people in the community made Steve want so desperately to root himself in the world as he had once been. She had a story for every blossom and peaking carrot top; it reminded him of the stories he had for every alleyway and rooftop in his long forgotten world. To his own surprise, he granted himself the extension of human connection without fear or hesitation, and inquired about every person who these sprigs of life belonged to.
“These are Ms. Diaz's tomatoes, anybody can pick them as long as they leave enough for her to make her delicious sauces,” she said with a fond smile for the woman, an unpicked tomato in a swirl of the colors purple and yellow cradled in her hand. “Oh! And those are Mr. Yao's eggplants,” she continued, “He makes a delicious eggplant parm with them. Best in the city! And theeese,” she said, a glint of personal pride in her eyes as she knelt beside a shady spot of flowerbed, “are my babies.”
Steve gazed down to see a bushel of some of the strangest looking flowers he'd ever seen. Granted, Steve didn't have much experience with flowers, he was used to the undoubtedly recognizable roses, sunflowers, and daisies, so these were truly a mystery to him. He watched as her regloved hands grazed the dirt around them, plucking dead leaves and twigs from the flower bed and tossing them out. The plant was truly a curiosity the more he looked at them.
Long deep red stems elegantly sprung forth and hung from a sparse but lovely bush and upon each stem dangled heart shaped blossoms with curled ends in such a strikingly fierce shade of purple they almost didn't seem real. And to make them far more striking: a single pearl like dot seem to delicately hang from each blossom. A small giggle broke his concentration:
“These are bleeding hearts. They're a bit of a hassle to keep up with and help bloom but I've always liked a good challenge. They only bloom once a year too, you're lucky you got to see them like this! They're fast approaching their end stages now. Not much one for plants are yah Steve?” she said, an eyebrow tilted in soft inquiry.
“How could ya’ tell?” he replied with a laugh, a nervous hand rubbing at the back of his neck.
“You've had the most delightful look of confusion and wonder on your face this whole time. Funny though, you actually listened and asked questions. The few men who've wandered in here, outside of the old guys of course, usually try to fake some kind of knowledge of botany. It's very silly of course. But I'm glad you've enjoyed the tour! You have enjoyed the tour right?”
The playful look on her face gave a Steve a good chuckle. “Oh most definitely ma'am. I'd love to come back here soon. I'm afraid things at work might not make that possible though. It's a real shame. I hate to sound so grim, but this is the calmest I've felt in months. Thank you, really, for showing me around the place” he said, a soft genuine smile crossed his features. It made her a little sad for him. He seemed like a lovely man, a golden glow seemed to emanate from him at all times, goodness she thought. It pained her to catch the glimpses of stress and worry which tried to swim unnoticed in his eyes. That's when she got the idea.
“Tell you what. I hope you don't mind, but I'm gonna give you my card. The next time you have a chance to come down here I want you to call me. We're gonna choose something for you to plant,” she said, he began to protest, “No, no buts! This is a community garden Steve and you're a member of the community! Even if you plant whatever it is you like and you can't always take care of it, I'll make sure we all do our part to take care of it till you can come back. Consider it a welcome back to Brooklyn present.” An almost somber look began to cross her face as she continued to speak, “I hate to be presumptuous, you can tell me to shut up if I'm out of line, but you seem like a guy who really needs roots. I watched you for a little bit when you first wandered in here, you seemed a little...lost. Knowing you have something to come back to is a stabilizing feeling. I've been there. This garden gave me that, saved my life really...but that's a story for another day.”
Steve felt an immeasurable warmth bloom in his chest. He'd always believed that most people were inherently good and kind, it was one of the things which he kept in mind, firmly believed in, and which gave him the strength to continue to carry the mantle of Captain America...even if it was pretty hard one to carry most of the time. To have someone remind of him of the extent of that goodness was a blessing and instead of usually refusing such a kind gesture, Steve nodded in agreement.
He took the card she proceeded to hand him from her back pocket. “I promise I'll call. But on one condition...” he said. That got a small jolt of curious delight from her.
“Oh really now? And just what would that condition be?” she said, an amused smirk directed at him.
“Teach me. Teach me everything you know because, ma'am...I'm gonna need all the help I can get!” he said with a booming laugh. The usually quiet air of the garden began to twinkle with the sound of their laughter.
And for once in a long time... Steve looked forward to something .