Music is "One Step Ahead" by A Great Big World

Picture is of a couple ice skating

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Part Three
One Step Ahead by A Great Big World
Fix You by Coldplay
I Found by Amber Run
All This Time by OneRepublic

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COLD DECEMBER NIGHTS
The Christmas Special of 2016

Part Three: One Step Ahead

The next morning, the cold air of Mazyr bites at my uncovered toes. I tuck them back under the covers, hissing slightly at the chill. Eyes still closed, I feel someone's arm wrap tighter around my waist, warm breath moving my messy bangs to tickle my nose. I move them to the side, glancing upwards at the man sleeping next to me. Steve sighs in his sleep, a small smile curving the corners of his lips.

Without waking him, I attempt to roll over to see the time on the clock. Unfortunately, there are no lights on anywhere. No lamps, no light from the bathroom we left on because I am still a big baby and afraid of the dark, and no clock lights. Steve's arms tighten further when I attempt to wiggle out of them to check my phone on the counter in the kitchen. "Stevie," I mumble, rubbing circles on the hand that rests on my ribcage. "I need to get up."

Steve's eyes slowly open, one peaking more than the other. When he sees me, he gives a small grin. "You stayed."

I roll my eyes. "Well, I was tired, and you were comfy."

"You sure it wasn't because you liked cuddling with me?" He smirks.

I push away from him, and he lets me go with a small chuckle to himself. "Yes, Steve. That's totally it, you big oaf." I swipe open my phone, seeing the time labeled seven in the morning. "It's seven. Why the hell are the clocks out?"

I hear Steve roll off the bed, looking out of the window. "Snow storm hit last night. Probably knocked out the power lines."

"Greaaat. No wonder it's so fucking cold."

I set my phone down on the counter, stomach rumbling as I do. Steve's arms wrap around me again, pulling me back into his chest. "Hungry?"

"Aren't you?" I turn around, wrapping my arms around his neck with a cheeky smile. "So last night wasn't just a really good dream?"

Steve's face turns confused. "What happened last night? I don't remember anything big happening."

"Um..." I put my arms back to my sides, embarrassed. "Well..."

Steve's face lights up in a fantastic grin, tightening his grip enough to lift me off the floor and twirl me around. "You fell for it!"

I playfully swat at his face, attempting to wipe that smug look of it. "You're horrible, Empire State. I thought..."

He places me back down, catching my lips in a good morning kiss. "Never. Too good to be a dream." He pulls back, dropping his arms. "How about you get your shower, and I'll go get us some breakfast somewhere. Then we can see about the car and how bad the storm wrecked the roads. We can make it to Moscow before the sun sets."

I nod, gifting another chaste kiss. "Sounds great. 'Cept I thought you were gonna wanna shower with me." I give him a wink as his face turns bright red.

"Um... well, that wouldn't be very gentlemanly--"

"--Relax, Stevie," I giggle. "We'll get to that stuff later."

Steve rolls his eyes, used to my playfulness, and places a peck on my forehead. "Take your time. I'll be back soon."

· ~ · ~ · ~ · ~ ·

After a very quick shower in the very last of the hot water that was in the hotel's heated reservoir and a surprisingly hot meal of coffee and a local breakfast plate that Steve miraculously found at a local restaurant that had a backup generator, we get dressed for an extremely cold day. Repacking our bags doesn't take long, and we're off to the mechanic's shop just a mile down the road from the hotel.

The news we receive isn't great. The car can be fixed, thankfully, but it will take time and power. Time we don't have, and power could be out for a few more days. The storm wasn't as bad as everyone thought, and since they were prepared for the worst, not as much got damaged. Even so, there are still plenty of downed power lines. The mechanics told Steve and I that it could be Christmas Eve before they can have her fixed; that's two full days away. With any luck, by then we'll be headed home to Sokovia. Steve and I decided to rent a car from the mechanic's shop in Mazyr, and on the way back home, we'll pick up our car once it's repaired.

While we wait away the hour the mechanic stated he needed to prepare the rental for departure, Steve and I find ourselves wandering the only natural part of Mazyr: the river and frozen lake in the tiny park outside the city, between it and the highway that takes us straight to Moscow and then to Kazan. We walk hand in hand, enjoying the bright sunlight that reflects off the snow. After the storm last night, the skies have cleared; it's a beautiful day to be stranded in Mazyr.

"This isn't so bad," Steve finally says, breaking the silence. "It's actually very pretty here."

I nod in agreement, wrapping my arms around his and leaning into his heavy leather coat. "It is. I've always loved the snow. Y'know, when I was in high school, I spent almost every free hour I had on the ice-skating rink we had in Virginia."

Steve turns to me with a curious expression. "Really? I didn't know that."

"Like I said, Empire State: I'll full of surprises."

He removes his arm from my grasp and wraps it around my waist, tugging me closer. "I guess I have a lot to look forward to."

With a stupid grin on my face, we continue walking together in the park. The trees are barren, the sky is a milky blue, the sun is low on the horizon, and our breath crystallizes as it leaves our mouths.

When we round the next corner, finding the Mazyr lake in front of us, I spot someone renting out skates. There are plenty of people around of all ages: men, women, and children alike. My eyes grow wide with excitement as I turn to Steve with a huge grin. "C'mon!" I shout, practically dragging him across the snowy landscape to the lake. "The universe must love me today!"

"Are you sure it's safe?" Steve asks as we look out at the frozen lake the size of a football field.

"Sure it is! Look, there are plenty of people already out skating."

"Dis lake has been frozen over for almos' twenty years," the man who is renting skates replies to Steve's worry. "Do not vorry; it is completely zafe for you and your sveetheart."

"See?" I agree, motioning to the nice Belorussian man. "It's completely safe!" With more hesitation from Steve, I grab his hand, practically begging, "Pleeease? Pretty please?"

Steve relents, sighing with a smile after a moment of looking at my best puppy-dog expression. "Fiiine."

I jump up in the air, throwing my fist up in victory. "Yes! We'll take two pairs, please."

After getting our correct sizes, Steve gives the man our payment for one hour on the skates. The man thanks him and says, "Zat look vill get you into trouble in ze future, my friend."

Steve chuckles, nodding his head. "Agreed."

Once my skates are on, I take off onto the ice, twirling and gliding as if high school was just yesterday. Steve, however, remains at the edge of the lake, looking down at the ice as if it's going to swallow him as soon as he places a foot on its surface. I can't help but laugh and race over to him, taking his hands in mine. "C'mon, silly. The ice is a friend of mine. It won't hurt you."

He lets me tug him onto the ice, and instantly falls onto his knees, nearly taking me with him. "Except for your pride, maybe. I thought you were a New Yorker. Aren't New Yorkers, you know, like, ice children?"

Steve laughs, regaining his composure once again. "You would think so. Bucky loved the ice, but I was never well enough to stay out in this cold of weather for long."

I nod, understanding. "Well, now you have a teacher, Captain Handsome. I'll show you the ropes."

He holds onto my hand for dear life as we begin to skate across the lake. Straight lines, no turns, easy to get a hold of for newbies. Steve eventually gets the hang of it, eventually releasing his death-grip on my hand to have some freedom. He looks at me with excited eyes. "Ta da!"

I slow clap as he starts to turn around to skate back across the lake. "Very nice! Now, can you do this?" I take off onto the lake, shifting my feet to gain speed. I push back on my right toe and launch myself into the air, doing a twirl, and land again on my feet, bowing in Steve's direction.

Steve's mouth is all but hanging open. "Yeah, I can't do that. I would break my neck trying."

I skate back up to him, wrapping my arms around his waist with a smirk. "'You'd probably survive,'" I quote him from just a couple days earlier. "Y'know, I'm really glad I didn't run you over with my car."

Steve lets his head lean back in laughter. "Gee, thanks. I'm flattered!"

"You should be! I'm a known criminal!"

"So you've told me," he grins, looking down at me as we attempt to skate, hand in hand, from one part of the frozen lake to the other. "But for what, exactly?"

"Aggravated assault," I tell in a casual tone, not joking in the slightest. Steve raises a surprised eyebrow at me. "What? Are you really that surprised?"

He shakes his head. "Not about the charge. More about the fact that you just told me."

I shrug, giving his hand a squeeze. "You know about my family, my suicide attempt, and my adoration for you. Might as well share my last big secret."

"I'm listening," Steve replies nonchalantly, but still giving me his full attention.

"I was arrested when I was seventeen because I attacked my boyfriend after he tried to rape me."

Steve stops skating, looking at me with a serious and concerned look. "Bex..."

I shake my head, placing a finger to his lips to silence him. I smile, replying, "Don't. Really, it's okay. It was a lifetime ago. I'm over it."

With hesitation, Steve takes my hand and kisses the back of it, giving me a sweet smile. "Why didn't they count it as self-defense?"

I shrug again, and we continue skating. Steve holds my hand just a little bit tighter as we do. "I don't know. No one saw me attack him because we were alone at my place. His wealthy family had better lawyers. It was my word against his. Who would you believe: a girl who is a known whore and troubled kid, or the rich boy who never got caught for anything?"

"I would believe you."

I turn to him with a little tear in my eye. "That's sweet, Steve. Really."

"I'm glad you told me," he says after a moment, pulling me closer into his jacket and embrace that smells like pine and vanilla. "About everything."

"You've told me a lot, too," I remind him. "Your uncle, your father, your childhood. We've both told each other our deepest, darkest secrets."

"Don't you feel better?" he sighs, turning his head to look down at me. He leans down, not waiting for my answer before he kisses me with more passion and confidence than he ever has before.

I nod my head once we put a few inches between us, a smile breaking across my face. "Hell yeah."

· ~ · ~ · ~ · ~ ·

We spend the next day of long driving in the rental and sporadic naps in random hotels talking about everything, and I mean everything. From entertainment to history to funny stories to our favorite things, we cover it all. After our deepest secrets being divulged, there were no more barriers between us. It was just two kids in their prime, having a great time as the snow storms skated on our heels. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't having the time of my life with him.

It's now ridiculously early on the 23rd of December. The sun is barely coming over the Russian horizon of Kazan, the town we've spent days traveling towards. Now that we're here, my nerves are starting to get the better of me. My hands are shaking, my palms are sweaty, my voice is trembling. Steve keeps a gentle hand over mine, allowing me to have a grip onto something I know is real and won't leave. 

Kazan is a city in southwest Russia, on the banks of the Volga and Kazanka rivers. It's home to over one million people and is the "Sports capital of Russia." Since the early 2000s, the city has been almost completely rebuilt; even the most famous landmarks--the Kazan Kremlin, Vernicle Temple, and several Sunni Muslim mosques--have been rebuilt or refurbished. in the past twenty-five years, Kazan has become an entirely new city. Now, it's quite beautiful to look at: large bridges, beautiful mosques and temples of other religions, rivers that flow throughout, lake-fronts, bustling city streets, and snowy weather of twenty-four degrees Fahrenheit.

It's a beautiful place to be two days 'til Chritmas, but an ache in my heart reminds me that it's not Sokovia, it's not where my family is, it's not home.

Steve drives us through Kazan, using the GPS on his phone to find the address of the house in which my mother's aunt and cousin reside. Apparently they're on the other side of Kazan, in somewhere called the Sovetsky district. It looks the same as the others. I thought I would be looking eagerly out the windows for the address, not being able to stand being so close and not knowing, but I'm not. I'm seated quietly, wondering to myself if I even want to know what they have to say.

Was she right? Was Mom right? Am I better of not knowing these people? Will I like what I find? Will it make things better... or worse? Will they even want to speak with me? Do they even know I exist?

"There it is," Steve says, pointing towards the white house in a long line of brick ones that make up a large neighborhood. The outside of the house is not much, but it makes me more nervous than ever.

I attempt to take in deep breaths as Steve pulls over to parallel park on the side of the road. A few moments pass when we do nothing, just sit in silence as I try to collect my thoughts, my questions, my confusion. Eventually, Steve turns to me, asking, "Are you sure you wanna do this?"

I shake my head quickly, confused now more than ever. "I don't know, Steve. I thought... I thought I did, but now?" I turn from the window to his face. It's not judgmental, just a hint of concern on his features. "What if this trip was all for nothing? What if these people make my life miserable? What if they want to know about Mom and Glory?"

Steve gently places a hand over mine; I turn mine over to squeeze his tightly, turning my gaze back towards the little white, Russian city house. "Bex? Bex, look at me." I do as he asks, and he leans in to look me intently in the eyes. "You do whatever you feel is right. If you wanna talk with 'em, I will translate and be with you every step of the way. If you wanna leave things as they are, for whatever reason, I will support you completely. This trip wasn't for nothin'." He flashes me a smile and places a kiss on my forehead. "I got you out of it."

We stay like that for a few minutes: his arm around my shoulders, chin on my hair, my face buried into his neck while trying to control my breathing, hand in hand. It calms me to the point where I can think straight. "What would you do?" I whisper, not wanting to move, and closing my eyes.

"I don't know," he admits in the same whisper-like voice. "I really don't. I've counted myself lucky so far that this has been your quest and not mine." He pulls away slightly, looking down at me. "Would you feel disappointed if you left here without talking to them?"

I turn to look over at the house again. "I don't know. For years I've wanted to know about them... but now I don't know what I want."

Then something surprising happens: the door of the house swings open. Outside comes a man about Mom's age. With ample determination, I turn to Steve and say, "I have to do this."

He nods with a soft smile. "Then let's do this."

We get out from the car and walk up to the man, who seems to be taking out the trash. He's in his mid-fifties, grey hair-line receding and blue eyes dull with time. He turns to us and sighs, saying something in Russian to us with a grouchy look on his face.

Steve replies in a warm and friendly tone, probably asking if the man is who we think he is. The man gazes at Steve in confusion, frustration washing off his face as confusion replaces it. He and Steve continue to talk for a moment, but then Steve's voice becomes unsure and he says a lot of "um"s and "uh"s.

"What is it?" I ask in confusion, turning to Steve. 

He looks down at me in surprise and shock, struggling to find his words. "Bex..."

"Just tell me, Stevie."

"This man has lived here for five years. He says that before him was your mother's aunt and cousin, Rebekka and Sasha Sokolov. Apparently... Apparently, they've died since your mother had contact with them. She left Kazan after a family member died in 2005. This man says that the family hasn't had contact with your mom since then. He says he knew them through a mutual friend in work. He bought the house after they died."

My breath catches in my throat, my hands turning into fists. "How? How did they die?"

Steve turns to the Russian man and asks my question. Once the man replies, Steve translates, "The cousin died in a drunk driving car accident in 2022. The Aunt died much earlier, in 2007, after a stroke." The Russian man speaks again, and Steve adds, "He says she died of a broken heart after her..." Steve pauses, turning to the Russian man to ask a question about what he just said.

"After what?" I push, curious and a little heartbroken.

Steve turns to me again. "She died after her youngest niece died of Leukemia in 2005. She was the family member that died when your mother left."

"Youngest niece? That means... my mom had a sister?"

· ~ · ~ · ~ · ~ ·

Steve grasps my hand as we walk through the heavy snow in the cemetery. Steve had gotten the Russian man living in the house to tell us where my mom's aunt and cousin were buried. They were here in the Cemetery of Kazan ever since, and no one thought to put that online so I could've seen this before we left on this stupid trip.

We finally get to the graves marked with my mother's last name.

Here lies Rebekka Sokolova
b. 1952 - d. 2005.
Mother, Lover, Aunt, Friend

Here lies Sasha Sokolov
b. 1972 - d. 2022.
Son, Brother, Friend

"They're dead," I whisper to no one in particular. "They've been fucking dead this whole time."

"I'm so--"

"--It was a mistake coming here," I interrupt, tears starting to form. "I'm sorry I wasted our Christmas, Steve. I'm so sorry." I turn into his embrace and let the silent tears fall. In my moment of weakness, he's here.

He rubs my back while holding me for a moment or so, allowing me to empty the emotions that so desperately wanted to break free, but then he whispers, "Bex, look."

I look up at him to see him pointing at a gravestone just beside Rebekka's. It's older than the rest and roses are at its base. It takes me getting closer to it to fully see the writing. I lean down, brushing the snow from the stone.

Here lies Marie Sokolov
b. 1979 - d. 2005
Daughter, Sister, Friend

"Marie," I mumble. "That's my middle name. Why would...?"

Steve just gives me a knowing smile. "Your mother's younger sister. She named you after her."

I turn back to the stone, running my frozen fingers across the name. "Who left the roses then? There is no more of the Sokolov family than my mother. Who left them?"

I stand, and Steve pulls me close with a grin that says it all. "We might never know, but it is Christmas. Maybe you have a Christmas miracle after all."

I wipe away my tears and smile up at him. "How can I thank you for coming with me? Thousands of miles, four countries, and we find gravestones. Why did you come in the first place?"

Steve's baby blue eyes look down at me as he chuckles. "For you, of course."

I lean up to kiss him, winding my fingers through his dark hair as his hands go to my waist. When we pull back, snow flakes falling around us as carolers sing in a foreign tongue nearby, I sigh peacefully. I havent't felt this content in a long, long time. "Hey, Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's go home."

· ~ · ~ · ~ · ~ ·

The trip home goes by much faster than the trip to Kazan. Besides the stop in Mazyr for a long night's rest and picking up the now-repaired car, we high-tail it back to Sokovia. It takes us two days and nights, but we make it back by nearly midnight Christmas Eve.

"I fucking can't believe we made it!" I shout as we pull up to Mom's house.

Steve laughs full-heartedly, turning off the car. "I actually didn't think we would."

I glance at him over my shoulder with a smirk. "Like you said: Christmas miracles."

There are candles burning in the window's of Mom's house, I hear Christmas music playing inside, and someone is baking something fantastic. I hear voices of those I love: Mom, Glory, Wanda, Pietro, the twins (surprisingly), and Vision. I even see the familiar figures of Alma, Lorna, Bucky, Nat, Clint, and Sam.

"I didn't know they were going to be here," I chuckle, crossing my arms as I pull my tired body from the car.

Steve rolls his eyes with a laugh. "I'm not surprised. Your mother and Glory can cook, and Bucky, Clint, and Sam love through their stomachs. Nat just adores your family."

I reach out to take his hand. "Our family. You're not getting off that easy, Empire State."

"It's crazy, but it's ours," he grins. He holds out his other hand for me to take, acting very proper. "Are you ready to enter, Madame?"

I giggle and take his hand, doing a curtsy in reply. "Why, yes. I very much am, Sir."

Suddenly, the door flies open before we can make our way up the icy stairs. My sister, Glory, and Mom stand at the entrance with eyes wide and mouths open in surprise. Glory's hair is done up in her natural tight curls, and sparks seem to burst around her as she launches off the stairwell, flying into the air and tackling me before she lands. "You're back!" she shouts, nearly squealing in delight. "You're back, you're back!"

"I'm back!" I exclaim with her, hugging her tightly. "I'm sorry we're home so late!"

Over her shoulder, I see others coming to the doorway and piling out onto the stairs: both blood family and adopted, they're all here and they all look so happy to see us. Grins stretch across all their faces.

As Glory pulls back, she smiles hugely at me, barely able to keep her excited feet on the ground. "Where the hell have you been?" She turns to Steve with a forced cross look before I can reply. "And you! You are a bad influence on her! Didn't think to call? Not even a text?"

Steve rubs the back of his neck with a look of apology on his features. "Sorry, Glory."

Glory wags a finger at him, eyes narrowing. "I'll deal with you later." She turns to me. "Both of you. For now, it's cold, so before you get yourselves and my kids sick, get inside."

"Finally!" Clint and Bucky exclaim at the same time. "Now we can cut the turkey!"

While everyone shifts back inside, I look to an amused Wanda, asking, "What turkey? You waited?"

She nods with a proud look on her face. "I knew you would come home today. I made them all wait." She gives us both a wink before heading back inside.

As Glory leads us up the stairs, Mom meets us at the door. "You go on inside," I tell Steve with a smile. "I'll be right there."

He nods, pecking me on the lips before he joins our family, who have started to dig into the Christmas Eve feast that has been ready for some time.

I turn my attention to Mom with a slightly ashamed look. "So..."

"So you went to Kazan, I'm guessing?" she asks, not mad or sad, just curious.

I nod. "We found your Aunt Rebekka and cousin, Sasha. Mom..."

"I know," she says before I can tell her the bad news.

"You know?"

"I know they've died since I last saw them."

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. "You did? When?"

"This past year," she sighs. "I flew to Kazan after school let out this summer. I wanted to see what had become of them, much like you wanted to know who they were. I found the man in the house, just as you probably did, and he told me what had happened." She looks at me with a sorrowful look on her pale and freckly features. "I am so sorry I didn't tell you about them earlier, Bex."

"Why didn't you? They were dead. Couldn't you have just said that?"

"I wanted to, but I also didn't want you to go looking because of my sister, Marie."

"You named me after her, didn't you?"

She nods with a sad smile on her face. "Marie died of Leukemia, but I was never around to help her through her treatment. I was too busy running off and getting into trouble, never staying in one spot long enough to make a life. The doctor's said that Marie just gave up, refused treatment, and died. Sometimes I wonder if I had been there for her... if I had been a better sister..." Her eyes fill with tears. "I didn't want you to think less of me or to draw parallels between Marie and I and you and Glory."

"Oh, Mom," I whisper, pulling her in for a hug. "I would never think less of you. You're not that person anymore. You've changed. You're a great mom and an even greater grandma."

Mom chuckles, pulling back and wiping her eyes. "You are ten times the sister I ever was, Bex. Don't you ever think otherwise." We give each other another hug, and then she asks, "So, did something happen on this trip of yours that I should know about?"

When she raises an eyebrow, I can't help but laugh. "Maybe, Mom. I really think so."

She gives me a playful look. "I told you you had to make the first move."

"Yeah, yeah," I roll my eyes. "You can say 'I told you so.'" We laugh. "But you were right. I guess I was just too scared to act on my feelings. Turns out he had the same problem, too."

"At least something wonderful came out of that trip," she says, and we look towards the room full of our family. My eyes go straight to Steve, who smiles back as Clint and Sam pull him into a joking conversation.

"Yeah," I sigh, a smile still covering my features. "I think this year is going to be the best one yet."

END PART THREE.