Later, Howard retired, and this matter was handed over to Tony.
Tony arranged a place for him to stay and provided basic living support.
Mavuika had also visited a few times; Bucky was a man of few words, quiet and reserved, but he would nod in greeting whenever he saw him.
He knew where he lived.
"I know," he said.
Steve's eyes lit up.
"Can you take me to see him?" His voice was a bit tight; seventy years of longing weighed on his heart, almost overflowing.
Mavuika did not answer immediately.
He looked at Tony.
Tony sighed.
"He's on Long Island," he said.
"The house Howard arranged for him back then is in a small town on the North Shore of Long Island. It's very quiet, very suitable for retirement."
He stood up and took the car keys out of his pocket.
"I'll take you."
Steve also stood up, looking at Tony, his lips trembling slightly.
"Thank you."
Tony waved his hand. "Don't thank me; thank my dad. He was the one who saved him."
He looked at Mavuika.
"Coming along?"
Mavuika thought for a moment and nodded. "Okay."
Thor also stood up. "I'm going too!"
Loki put down his phone and said lazily, "I won't go; it'll be too crowded."
Mavuika glanced at him. "Then you watch the house."
Loki smiled. "Of course, big sister."
Several of them went downstairs.
Tony's car was a black Audi parked on the side of the road. He opened the door and sat in the driver's seat.
Steve sat in the passenger seat and fastened his seatbelt—his movements were a bit unfamiliar; he clearly wasn't fully accustomed to the cars of this era.
Mavuika and Thor sat in the back. Thor looked around curiously, asking about every single button in the car.
Fury had his own car and followed behind them.
Tony glanced at him in the rearview mirror. "Thor, haven't you ridden in a car during these few days you've been on Earth?"
Thor scratched his head. "I have, but I haven't ridden in one this nice."
The corners of Tony's mouth curled up slightly. "Ha, I'll get you one someday."
Thor's eyes lit up. "Really? You truly are a good man!"
That sounded a bit strange, and Tony's mouth twitched.
The car drove out of Manhattan, passed through Queens, and headed toward Long Island.
On the way, Steve watched out the window in silence.
Those skyscrapers, those neon lights, that flowing traffic—everything was different from seventy years ago.
He remembered that when he left Brooklyn to join the army, the tallest building in Manhattan was still the Chrysler Building.
Now, there were buildings everywhere that were much taller than it.
He remembered the clanging sound of streetcars on the road.
Now, there was only the honking of horns and the roar of engines.
He remembered people wearing hats and coats, walking slowly in the snow.
Now, people wore clothes he didn't understand, looking down at the little squares in their hands.
Everything had changed.
But he had not.
He was still wearing clothes from seventy years ago—although Fury had changed him into a new set, he knew his heart was still back in that era.
Back in the days of fighting on the streets of Brooklyn with Bucky.
Back in the days of charging into the HYDRA Base with the Howling Commandos.
Back in the days when Bucky fell from the train, and he reached out but couldn't catch him.
"We're almost there," Tony's voice interrupted his thoughts.
Steve lifted his head and looked out the window.
The car turned onto a quiet road lined with tall oak trees, their crowns weaving together overhead into a green canopy.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled light and shadow on the ground.
At the end of the road stood a white house.
It wasn't big, but it was very neat.
In front of the door was a small garden planted with roses and daisies.
The garden fence was painted dark green and looked very new—evidently, someone took care of it often.
Tony parked the car by the side of the road.
"This is the place," he said.
Steve looked at the house, his hand resting on the door handle, but he didn't move.
His breathing was a bit rapid, his chest heaving violently.
Seventy years of longing, seventy years of guilt, seventy years of "if only I had caught him then"—it was all behind this door.
He took a deep breath and pushed open the car door.
Steve walked to the door, raised his hand, and prepared to knock.
But his hand hovered in mid-air and did not fall.
He stood there like a statue.
Tony leaned against the car, arms crossed over his chest, watching quietly.
Mavuika stood beside him, also not speaking. Thor was uncharacteristically quiet, as if he too felt the heavy atmosphere in the air.
After a long time, Steve finally knocked on the door.
There was no response.
He knocked again.
Footsteps came from inside, slow and steady.
The door opened.
A man stood in the doorway.
He was a little shorter than Steve, his shoulders still broad, but his frame was thinner than it had been in his youth.
His dark brown hair was streaked with a few strands of silver, and the lines on his face were much softer than seventy years ago, but those eyes—those gray-blue eyes—were still exactly as Steve remembered them.
Bucky Barnes.
He looked at the person at the door and froze.
His lips parted slightly, closed, then parted again.
"Steve?" His voice was hoarse, carrying an unbelievable tremor.
Steve stood there, looking at the face he thought he would never see again in this lifetime.
"Bucky," he said, his voice also trembling.
The two looked at each other.
Seventy years of time flowed between them.
Bucky's eyes reddened.
Steve's eyes also reddened.
Then, Steve stepped forward and hugged Bucky tightly.
Bucky froze for a second, then reached out and hugged him back.
The two 'old men' stood in front of that little white house, holding each other, unable to say a word.
Tony turned his face away, looking at the distant sky.
Thor scratched his head, not knowing where to look.
Mavuika stood there quietly, watching the scene, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly.
After a long time, Bucky let go and stepped back, looking at Steve.
"How are you..." he began, his voice still hoarse, "how are you still alive?"
Steve took a deep breath. "I was frozen in the North Pole, and S.H.I.E.L.D. dug me out."
Bucky was silent for a moment, then smiled lightly.
Steve said with some emotion.
"I thought you were dead; everyone said you were dead."
Bucky also smiled, that smile containing both bitterness and relief.
"I thought you were dead too."
The two were silent for a while longer.
Then Bucky stepped aside. "Come in."
Steve nodded and walked through the door.
He looked back at Tony.
Tony waved his hand. "You two talk. We'll wait outside."
Steve nodded and followed Bucky into the house.
The door closed.
Tony leaned against the car, looking up at the sky.
Mavuika stood to the side, quietly watching that door.
He remembered a long time ago, on Asgard, the days he fought side-by-side with Hela.
Back then, they were just like Steve and Bucky—charging together, fighting for their lives together, and entrusting their backs to each other.
Later, Hela went to the Underworld.
They hadn't fought side-by-side in a long time.
But it would be soon.
Mavuika looked at the sky, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly.
Very soon.