The Price We Pay for Family - 19

 

Cont...

The world spins on.

 It makes Cass want to scream. 

It's like no one remembers there used to be someone else in their family. That there were five, and now there's four, just like that. 

They have a small service, and a lot of people he's never met show up. It's a tiny group. They're all adults, all using proper words, and Cass wants to scream and cry and throw a temper tantrum like when he was little. He doesn't. It's all so wrong.

 He hides under the tree by the river where you can't see him till you're right next to him. 

They'll miss him at the gathering. Cass doesn't care. Bucky was the only person who could find him here anyway. He never had to look. He just knew. And now he's gone. 

Cass's vision blurs as his eyes betray him with angry tears. It wasn't supposed to end like this. Bucky was supposed to stay around forever. Teach him to drive, fight, and about girls. He'd been happy here. Cass knew that. And he'd wanted to stay. And then Cass had gone and ruined it.

 His family refused to say it, but Cass knew. This was all his fault. If he'd never run away and got made, Uncle Bucky would still be around. And everything would be fine. But he hadn't, and everything wasn't fine. 

"Do you want some company?" A deep accented voice asked. 

Cass jerked and looked up at one of the people he didn't know who had come. Tall, dark brown skin, with perfect posture. "No." Cass sniffled. 

"Well, that's too bad." The man sat carefully in his black tuxedo next to Cass, "Everyone's looking for you." 

Cass sniffed again and looked back out at the river, "You found me."

 "Mh. Yes. But I don't think you're ready to go back yet." The man said calmly.

 "You don't know me at all, Mister. So you can go back and tell my mom I'm fine." Cass snapped. He just wanted to be left alone. Was that too much to ask? 

"But you're not fine." The man stated. 

"How would you know?" Cass snapped, looking back at the man. 

"Because no one is fine after this." The man looked at him not like he was a little kid but like an equal. Something he had always liked about Bucky. "No one is fine after losing a parent." The man finished his thought.

 Cass huffed and looked away, "He wasn't my dad." 

"No? I was unaware one had to take titles to be a parental figure." The man seemed unbothered by Cass's attitude or that they were sitting on the ground. By anything, really. 

"I had a dad. Bucky wasn't my dad. He was-" Cass found there wasn't really a title he could put on Bucky that fit. 

"Just Bucky?" The man finished. 

"Yeah." Cass agreed lamely, "He wasn't my parent, though."

 "Why are you so adamant he's not?" The man asked.

 "Why are you so full of questions, Mr-" Cass stopped when he realized he didn't know the man's name. 

"T'Challa." The man finished, "And I just want to know why you are so angry."

 "None of your business, that's why. Why won't you just leave me alone?" Cass hissed.

 "Do you want to be alone because you don't know what to say or because you aren't sure what you feel?" T'Challa asked calmly. 

"What do you care?!" Cass almost yelled.

 "Because no one should be alone right now. Even if they think they want to be." 

People aren't made to be alone, Cass. We're social beings. We need companionship, touch, love, and care. That's why we have families. Bucky had told him that when he'd declared he didn't want friends. People aren't meant to be alone. Cass curled up into a tight ball, "Even if I really want it?" 

"Especially then." T'Challa nodded. 

"He told me something like that. I don't really get it." Cass admitted. 

"He would have known. He spent most of his life alone. Did you know that?" T'Challa asked.

 Cass shrugged, "Kinda. I mean, mom said he had some problems that w by others, and we weren't supposed to talk about it, but no one really told me why. Uncle Sam said it was the invisible pains that came after fighting. Like after he came back. But I don't remember that. AJ does. AJ knows everything. They tell him first always. They don't trust me!"

 "That sounds hard. But I can assure you they trust you." T'Challa soothed, "They aren't trying to exclude you. Just protect you." 

"I don't need protecting!" Cass snapped, "I just want to be treated like an adult."

 "Do you remember two springs ago when you had to take an emergency trip, and your mother didn't tell you why?" T'Challa asked. 

"Yeah. And later, I got told someone had threatened us because of Uncle Sam?" Cass huffed. 

"Yes. If you had known all the facts beforehand, would you have panicked? Done something rash?" T'Challa pointed out. 

"Probably." Cass grumbled, "But I didn't."

 "No. You thought you were going to see your grandmother." T'Challa agreed, "Sometimes ignorance is bliss. Our actions, even if they are done out of love, can hurt the outcome more than we intend in the long run." 

"So you're saying if I had been told the truth, I might have done something to hurt the others?" Cass asked. 

"It's possible, yes."

 "But now you're willing to tell me?" 

"He is no longer here to be hurt by careless words. He always wanted you to know. But you were never old enough to think before you spoke." T'Challa said gently. 

Cass couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed. It made sense. "Okay." 

"What would you like to know?" T'Challa asked. 

"Was he really over a hundred years old? Cause it would be like Uncle Sam to play a long-time prank on me." Cass asked. 

T'Challa laughed, "Yes, he really was. But an argument could be made that he was only in his mid-thirties. 

"How does that work?" Cass made a face.

 "Well, your Uncle was cryogenically frozen. That slows down your aging, so you only age outside of it. He lived over a hundred years but only aged roughly to his mid-thirties." 

"Wow. That's so cool." 

"If you mean literally, then yes." 

Cass snickered, "You're funny."

 "Why, thank you."

 Cass thought a moment, "So he slept most of the years he lived; how old really was he?"

 "We don't know. We estimated 35." T'Challa said seriously, "Cass, your Uncle wasn't given a choice when he was frozen. It was involuntary."

 Cass frowned; he couldn't imagine anyone forcing Uncle Bucky to do anything he didn't want to, "Uncle Sam always says that involuntary things aren't right." 

"He is right. They aren't right, but they do happen." 

"But how? Uncle Bucky would never allow that!" 

"Cass. Do you know the term 'of sound mind and judgment?'" T'Challa asked delicately.

 "No." Cass looked at him in confusion. 

"It's a term hospitals use to decide whether their patients can make decisions for themselves. If they have a head injury, then they probably aren't of sound mind and judgment."

 "Or if they are unconscious." Cass understood. 

"Yes. Your Uncle was not of sound mind and judgment when frozen. He couldn't say no." T'Challa said seriously, "He wasn't of sound mind for a long time. Most of the years, he was frozen." 

"Are you saying he was insane?" Cass asked, scandalized. 

"No. More like he had a head injury no one fixed all those years." 

"Why would no one fix it?" Cass asked, horrified, "Shouldn't you help people?" 

"Yes. But the injury was one that they caused so that they could keep your Uncle from sound mind and judgment."

 "Who is 'they'?" Cass demanded, eyes wide.

 "An evil science division who wanted to study your uncle's blood." 

"Because of his super-soldier serum?" Cass asked. That had never been a secret in their family. It was just part of who Uncle Bucky was, super strong and a vibranium arm. Oh, Thor, his arm. "They took his arm too, didn't they?" 

"Yes, Cass, they did. They made your Uncle do a lot of very bad things because they could." 

"Because he was hurt and couldn't fight back," Cass said, understanding. 

"Yes. What they made him do haunted your Uncle every day. But he was getting better." T'Challa soothed, "You and your family were a big part of that." 

"But I got him killed!" Cass said bitterly, eyes prevailing with unshed tears. 

"No, Cass, you didn't. Choice was very important to your Uncle after years of not having it. He wouldn't have made the choice to come get you if he didn't want to. You have to respect that Cass, his choice." T'Challa said gently. 

Cass deflated, tears streaming down his face, "It's not fair. It's not fair!" 

T'Challa put his arm around Cass, "No, it's not. But it's life."

 "It wasn't supposed to happen like this!" Cass cried, "He was supposed to be here. He wasn't supposed to die!" 

"He loved you and your brother more than life itself. You were like his own children. Unconditional love. Parental love. That's never going to change." 

"I miss him." Cass sniffled.

 "I know. I do too." T'Challa said, pulling Cass a little closer.

 "How did you know him?" Cass asked, looking up at the man that was virtually a stranger to him. 

"He came to me and my people to heal the injury in his head." T'Challa said with a soft smile, "He was a good friend, and I considered him a brother." 

Cass snuggled up to T'Challa, "I think you would have been a good uncle." 

T'Challa smiled down at him, "I could do that if you'd like." 

Cass considered, "Yeah, I think I would. I think he would have liked that." 

"Yes." T'Challa nodded, "I think he would."

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