The kitchen is dimly lit, and through the windows, the dreary New York sky bleeds in — all gray clouds and soft drizzle, like the city itself can feel how you feel.

Bucky’s looking at the pantry, his back turned, searching for anything that looks easy to make. As you walk fully into the kitchen, you can see the infamous peanut butter sandwich. Bucky feels your presence as he turns to you, “How bout I make you some pasta?”

You tear your eyes away from the sandwich, looking up at his blue eyes. They’re kind. He’s being patient with you – no one ever has. 

You nod. “Pasta sounds great.” A small smile pulls from him as he grabs a box of little pasta shells, moving back to the stove as he starts to boil the water. A few minutes later, he gets impatient and pours the pasta in the boiling water.

“I’m not really the best cook,” He stated, looking over his shoulder. “But, pasta," He says, shaking the box of little shells, "is something very easy and essential in life."

You lean against the counter watching him work, and smirk faintly at his words. “Yeah back in Romania, I swear I ate pasta around 50 times in a month.”

He pauses at your words. His head tilts slightly, not fully looking at you but enough to demonstrate his shock.

“Romania?” He repeats, now fully turning to you.

You nod, suddenly feeling in the spotlight for some reason. “Yeah. It’s where I went after…everything. It was quiet and had cheap food. Practically heaven.”

He hums in understandment.

“I was in Romania for a while too,” He says, almost like he’s reminiscing about a time of peace in his life, “After Hydra.”

You glance down at your hands, “Small world.”

“Yeah.”

The pasta bubbles behind him, immediately breaking his focus on you. He turns back to stir it, breaking the moment softly. Then you hear a new voice, “I smell food!”

Bob pops up to the kitchen. Oh sweet Bob. You’ve probably seen him around like twice ever since you got here. Apparently he tried to destroy the world, but you don’t believe it.

Bucky immediately sighs, “Go away, Bob.”

Bob just smiles. “I finally come out of my room and this is what greets me. Rude.”

You let out a small laugh before you can stop yourself.

Bob points at you triumphantly, like he just won a rare award. “Ah-ha! I made her laugh. I am so staying.”

“Bob,” Bucky warns slightly, he uses his metal arm to grab some hot water and flings it at Bob. Bob yelps, and side steps so he can avoid it.

“Okay, so, I think that's my cue to leave,” Bob jokes, already backing out of the kitchen, “Truly nice officially meeting you, Mystery Girl.”

“Bob!” Bucky warns, now focused on stirring the pasta because it’s almost done.

“Bye, Bob.” You smile and wave as he leaves.

“Sorry about him.” Bucky apologizes, feeling the need to.

“He’s great, dont worry about it.”

Bucky glances back at you, “Yeah don't tell him that.”

You grin, honestly now you understand why Yelena likes it here. She works with hot idiots. Bucky drains out the pasta, and starts to look for the pasta sauce. You set eyes on it as you walk by, grabbing the jar and opening it with a soft pop before handing it to him without a word.

He pauses just a second too long as he takes it from you, like he isn’t used to people giving him things without asking. “Thanks,” he says, his eyes briefly locking with yours.

“Don’t mention it.”

Silence falls against the both of you. He quickly adds the sauce and mixes it in the pasta. And before the silence gets the chance to linger, Yelena bursts in, sniffing the air.

“Do I smell Mac & Cheese?”

“No, Lena,” You clarify as you turn quickly, you forgot this girl's obsession with the kids meal, “Pasta.”

“Pasta?” She repeats, almost offended, “Now c'mon, that's just depressed mac & cheese without the cheese.”

Bucky almost groans. He’s clearly trying to get to know you, while the rest of the team is almost hell-bent on making that impossible. “It’s pasta. With Marinara Sauce.”

“Well add cheese,” Yelena adds and turns back to you, giving you a once-over, “Where the hell did you get those clothes?”

You would get flustered, but now is definitely not the time for that. “Bucky loaned them to me. Since all my shit is in the washer.”

Yelena gives you a weird look. Yeah right. 

Finally, Bucky is done with stirring the damn pasta. Trying to keep some common decency, he turns to her. “Would you want a plate?”

Almost forgetting he was there, Yelena turns away from you and walks to the pasta and almost frowns. “Yeah, gimme one sec.” She then opens the top cabinet, grabs Sriracha sauce and squirts it on the pasta.

“Sooo much better,” she smirks, clearly feeling proud of herself and looks at Bucky, “Go on and try it, you’ll thank me later.” She quickly plates the food, waving you over and gives you the plate.

You smile at the plate, give Bucky a quick glance and say a quick thanks.

You all eat at the island counter, plates in front of you, a small conversation between a few bites. Well, Yelena is basically the only one speaking, talking with pride as she ranks the different types of fights she’s been in. You laugh more than you expect to, easily forgetting the mission beforehand.

But eventually, her phone starts to buzz. One look at it and she softly groans.

“Ugh, this girl,” Yelena complains, stuffing the last of her pasta in her mouth, picking up her phone and sending a quick text back. “Alright guys, I’m out to help Kate Bishop.”

Bucky and You share a confused look. Who?

Not caring to clarify, she grabs her plate, puts it in the sink, and pats both of your heads as a goodbye.

You stare at the plate in the sink, and the other two on the counter. You start gathering them and heading to the sink to wash them.

Bucky stares at you and gets up following you to the sink, “I got it.”

“You cooked,” You stated, with a wave of your hand, “Least I can do.”

He scoffs as he gently wraps his hand around your wrist– a way to get you to stop, not even a firm grip, a soft, gentle one just like his soul.

“I said I got it,” He says softly, “Just sit down somewhere.”

Don't gotta tell me twice.

You sit on the counter next to the sink. “So what’s your story?

He starts to wash the dishes, not even being fazed by the question. “Surprised you don’t know.”

“Oh I do, Just wanna hear it from a firsthand account.” You shrug. If you’re gonna be living here, you might as well get to know your coworkers.

“To start, I’m around 100 years old,” He pauses for your reaction.

You tilt your head, “Honestly, you peg me for a much older guy.”

“Yeah, well, I started to use sunscreen.” He deadpans, washing off the soap from Yelena’s plate.

“Must be some type of sunscreen.”

“Mhm.” 

He starts again, “I got drafted, I fell off a train and lost an arm.” He stops and slightly raises his metal arm to the best of his ability since he was holding a dish. “Hydra found me and well, I’m guessing you know the rest.”

You nod, “That’s tragic. Sorry for bringing it up.”

“Nah, You get used to it.”

You feel bad. After everything this man has been through, he’s still kicking? It almost makes you feel embarrassed that you feel this way about yourself. 

Reminder; try to be more positive.

You hop down from the counter, brushing off his hoodie. “Thanks for dinner, Bucky.”

He nods. “Anytime.”

You start to walk off, but you pause once you near the exit, “Any chance I can still wear your clothes for the time-being?”

“Yeah, just keep ‘em if you want. They look better on you anyway.” He says, while he’s still focused on the dishes.

You’re just lucky your knees don’t give out right then and there.

--

It’s been 2 weeks since Bucky made you dinner.

A lot has happened in those 14 days.

Bucky lent you another set of clothes, until eventually, you realized Yelena has to take you shopping, or you’ll end up stealing the rest of this poor man’s closet. He also lent you his old, worn-in copy of The Hobbit after you mentioned wanting to pick up new hobbies. 

It has a few annotations with his thoughts scribbled in the margins, a couple of question marks and a few rare sightings of his dry comments – but you don’t mind. You think it’s cute actually.

You also have seen Bob more ever since that one day – He’s pretty cool. A bit awkward. But cool.

He always offers to help when it comes to laundry, dishes or even basic cooking. You can tell he’s still struggling to figure out where he fits in. Maybe once you find yourself, you can help him.

Alexei was pretty loud, but you can tell it was from a place of love – or admiration. Or whatever else he has going on in that big head of his. When he’s not bragging about his days about being Russia’s very own ‘Captain ‘Merica’, he’s either helping Bob doing random shit, or finding new ways to annoy Yelena.

And Ava? You’ve talked to her a few times now. She’s cool too — but her powers? Yeah, straight-up terrifying. You’re glad she’s on your side.

So yeah, a lot has happened in the past 2 weeks.

Since you decided to take a tour of the Tower, you decided that the gym is your favorite place. So now, here you were listening to music as you work out. As you finish up, you decide to check your phone and see a couple of mixed texts from the “New Avengerz” GC.

Lena: 911

Ava: ?

Walker: what?

Lena: cat in the kitchen???

You frown, looking at your phone confused. 

Who let a cat in the Tower? 

And when can you meet it? 

You’re about to tuck your phone back into your pocket, as you’re getting ready to return back to your room and hit the shower.

Yelena texts again, “nvm false alarm, it’s bucees cat.”

You freeze. Bucky? A cat person?

You don’t mean to judge a person by their cover, but you never expected James Buchanan Barnes to like cats. 

A few hours later, your wish came true.

As you entered the kitchen, after Bob was done washing the dishes, you spotted a cute white fluffy cat.

Oh My God.

“She’s beautiful,” You mutter, only to yourself. No wonder Bucky has her, a beautiful cat for a beautiful soul.

What you didn’t know was that Bucky was looking for the cat.

Again.

For the 3rd time today. He needs to read a book on how to get a cat to behave properly. Thankfully, he made it to the kitchen entryway, as he saw you approach the cat.

You kneel slowly, trying not to scare it. Her beady eyes stare you down, tail flicking lazily behind her, like she’s sizing you up. Judging. Calculating. You pray that she doesn’t bite you.

“Hi, cutey.”

Bucky was just watching you, unafraid to ruin the moment, but he did anyway as he cleared his throat, “She’s harmless. Just has a flair for the dramatics.”

You glance up at him, lips almost pulling to a smile. “Wonder where she gets it from,” You extend a hand to her, as she sniffs it slightly. She nudges her head on your hand. 

Yeah, you might just have to take this ball of joy away from Bucky. 

You shift, sitting cross-legged as she climbs into your lap. Gently, you stroke her soft fur, completely in love. Bucky steps closer, settling beside you on the floor.

Who would've thought? Bucky Barnes, ex-assassin, with his heart almost melting at the sight of you with his cat?

Steve Rogers is practically rolling in his grave right now.

“She’s not like this with most people.” Bucky mentions, out of the blue, “Her name’s Alpine, by the way.”

You scrunch your nose at that adorable name. “She's perfect. I love her.”

“She's got good taste.” Bucky jokes, even softer now. Maybe, Bucky might have to thank his therapist for telling him to get a pet.

Alpine purrs. Your heart absolutely flips. Maybe you’re thinking about getting all the cats in the world. With how big this tower is, that seems like a great idea anyways.

You stay like that for a while, all three of you guys, unbothered.

Until your phone starts ringing. 

You glance at Bucky sheepishly and gently hand Alpine back to him. “Bye, Alpine. Lovely meeting you,” you murmur, getting up to take the call as you walk away. 

--

2 months have passed since you first got to the Avengers tower.

You slowly feel yourself being a part of this team. It took a while, but once you realized that this group was basically a bunch of damaged individuals, it got easier. 

Ironically though, the one person you did hit it off with at first–Bucky, has become a little... awkward. Not in a bad way. Bucky didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just that you started to realize that he was really hot. Like distractingly hot.

But you’ll deal with that later.

For now, you and Ava had finally made it back from your tiring, 2 week mission, and all your mind is set up on is sleeping on your own bed. Nothing else even matters. Not even bothering to charge your phone, you make it into your room, shower, and then jump on that bed.

You were asleep in minutes.

The next morning; you woke up to your alarm, almost groaning at the fact you had to get up soon. Today was the day.

Not like the day—as in your wedding, but still, it was the day AKA your turn to go grocery shopping for the team. The Thunderbolts have recently started a chore wheel, like who's gonna take out the trash this week? Or who’s gonna attempt to do laundry next week? Interesting shit.

It might sound dramatic, but you hated doing mundane tasks. Like grocery shopping? Why can’t someone else do it? 

Funny thing is, it was your turn to go grocery shopping a few weeks back, but you ultimately got out of it. You sighed, chanting to yourself to get up. Bite the bullet. One step at a time.

Perhaps even treat yourself to the shawarma spot before? Yeah. Definitely sounds better when you add that part.

You turned off your alarm, muttering, ‘five more minutes’.

You woke up 2 hours later. 

How? Very, very good question.

Turns out, you didn’t actually turn off your alarm. You just yanked the Alexa plug straight out of the wall.

Problem solved. Good riddance. You check your phone– dead. Oh.

You forgot you didn’t put it on the charger.

You almost cry. You decide now it’s best to charge it.

You finally decide to drag yourself out of bed, the frame giving a tiny creak in protest. Barefoot, you shuffle towards the connected bathroom, wincing slightly as you turn the overhead light flickers on.

As soon as you do, you can see your reflection through the mirror. You practically groan at the sight. You close your eyes and rub them harshly, as if you can scrub the exhaustion away.

You take another shower.

Fast forward: you’re dressed, in desperate need of food, and internally bargaining for someone to go do your ‘task’ for you. You grab your phone, still on the charger, and text the GC, asking for them to send their lists. With that part handled, You leave your phone in your room as you make your way into the kitchen. 

As you walk in the kitchen, in desperate search for coffee, you spot Bucky, right in front of the coffee machine, taking the last batch.

You just stare in utmost shock.

Granted, he felt a shift in the air and turned to you, almost glaring at the cup in his hands, “You good?”

You frown. The audacity.

“Just fine,” you mutter, a little too tightly, brushing past him as you search the cupboards for a mug. You grab the most aggressive one you can find: ‘Thanos was right.’

Fitting.

You decide to settle for tea. Bucky doesn’t say anything for the most part, he’s just silently drinking his coffee, as you drink your tea. 

Then Yelena walks in. 

“Good,” she says without anything else, pointing between the two of you. “Both of you. Perfect.”

Bucky raises his eyebrow, “Perfect for..what?”

“Grocery shopping!” She smiles sweetly, “Y/N is on the list today, but I decided to switch it up for today. So, team bonding. Off you go!”

Bucky blinks. Fuck this chore wheel. Can’t they just hire people to do these tasks?

“I didn’t sign up for this.” Bucky says, attempting to put his foot down.

“You live here.” Yelena deadpans, “Congrats! You have responsibilities!"

She grabs a drink from the fridge and is almost out the door before calling over her shoulder, “Don’t forget my Sriracha!”

–

AT THE STORE

You’re in the cereal aisle.

You don't even remember how you got here. One minute, you were reluctantly putting on real pants, and the next, you were pushing a cart with a grumpy Bucky Barnes walking beside you like he’s being forced into a hostage situation.

Because, technically, he is.

 Since half of the team didn’t even send their lists, you were forced to choose the cereal for the next two weeks.

You stare at the shelves, trying to make an unbiased decision on whether the team is more of a Cinnamon Toast Crunch kind of crowd or if they give off Lucky Charms vibes. Bucky leans on the cart handle, impatient. “You’ve been staring at cereal for five minutes.”

“Well, my bad, if I can’t figure out if the team is–”

Before you can finish, he silently grabs a box of Corn Flakes, drops it into the cart, and starts walking away.

You blink. Corn flakes wasn't even an option.

As Bucky is leaving with the cart, you sigh, grab a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch anyway, and jog to catch up. 

“Glad to help speed up the process,” He says nonchalantly, scanning the area as if the sugary cereals can kill him. “Where next?” 

“Okay first of all.. you didn’t speed anything up. You just made a really bad decision,” You say, tossing your cereal box into the cart with a dramatic flair. “Second, we need to get the team’s protein powder.”

“Sounds disgusting.”

“Trust me..it is.” You shudder, “But, you definitely don’t need to worry, since you dont really need it.”

The next thirty minutes are spent roaming the store with Bucky, the two of you tossing essentials into the cart—some intentional, some impulse grabs. You argue over what counts as an “easier” snack and you almost forgot you were part of a superhero team.

Until it happens.

A girl—maybe college-aged, maybe younger, gasps loudly near the end of the frozen foods aisle.

“Oh my God. Are you guys the New Avengers?”

You freeze mid-reach for the frozen pizza. Bucky goes still, like someone just aimed a sniper rifle at his back. Slowly, you both turn.

The girl’s practically bouncing. “Wait—can I get a picture? Oh my God, my sister’s gonna flip. You guys are so much hotter in person!”

Bucky sighs through his nose like it physically pained him. You offer a small, tight smile. 

“Yes of course!” You say, the media training they made you do kicking in. You motion to her to stand between you and Bucky.

To your surprise, Bucky even starts to smile—like, a real one. It’s almost charming. Look at that. He remembers how to interact with the public. Progress.

The fan takes the photo, and squeals again once she looks at it. “You guys are like my favorite team. Ever! Totally have to post this on my Insta! So– wait, do you guys, like.. live together?”

You blink. “I mean.. Technically.”

“In the same tower?” she presses, eyes flicking between you and Bucky, who starts to wish he stayed in the car.

“Yep.” He answers for you.

Her eyes narrow. “Are you two… like, together together?”

Bucky almost chokes. You, on the other hand, let out the world’s most awkward laugh.

“Uh, no! But we are definitely done here! Danger is calling,” You say quickly, grabbing the cart handles and making a sharp U-turn, “Say hello to your sister for me! Have an awesome day!”

Bucky practically chases after you.

The fan is left shocked but satisfied, as she clicks on Instagram and starts a Live. “Guys you’ll never guess who I just saw shopping together–”

—-

Back at the Tower, you're in the kitchen with Bucky, the both of you unpacking the groceries in silence—well, companionable silence, anyway. The fluorescent lights hum, cabinets open and close, and every now and then you bump into each other at the fridge.

Walker strolls in and decides to help you guys put the groceries away. After a while, you guys were done and Walker opens the freezer.

“Uh, where’s my pizza rolls?” He asks.

You pause, look at Bucky. He looks at you. Neither of you say anything.

Walker turns around slowly. “Guys.”

“Bucky forgot it.” you say, flatly.

Walker turns to Bucky. “You forgot my pizza rolls, Buck?”

Bucky doesn't even blink. “You didn’t send your list.”

“I said it out loud!”

You snort. “We’re human. We forget shit.”

Walker glares at Bucky. “I told you when we were at the gym!”

“I had headphones in.”

“We were in the sauna!” Walker sighs, tired of this shit “I risk my life for this team, and this is what I get.”

You quietly toss him a frozen burrito. “Here. Be grateful.”

Walker catches it and glares. “This better be beef.”

“It’s beef,” You nod, already walking out of the kitchen. 

...You think it's beef. You’re like 60% sure you read it on the box. Okay, maybe like 40% sure.

You and Bucky both pause just outside the doorway, subtly listening.

2 minutes pass.

Walker grunts in satisfaction. “Okay. It’s beef.”

You exhale in relief and keep walking, Bucky falling into step beside you.

Once you’re both out of the kitchen, a brief silence settles in as you walk side by side. It’s not uncomfortable—just... different. Like something’s sitting in the air that neither of you have named yet.

You have a weird feeling in your chest. Being around Bucky Barnes brings out a weird side of you. You don’t wanna name. Not yet. Because if it is what you think it is—

Yeah.

You’re screwed.

You clear your throat, eyes looking ahead again. “Well... thanks for coming with me today. I know you didn’t really want to.”

Bucky’s quiet for a beat. Then, soft enough that you almost didn’t reach your ears, “Wouldn't have gone if it wasn't you.”

Your heart thuds. 

“Oh,” You manage to squeak out. 

Another beat of silence.

“Try not to forget anything, next time.” You say, like a coward. 

Oh My God.

“I’ll do my best.” He replies, with a shrug that says he’s absolutely lying.

“I'm gonna find Yelena.” You give him the weakest excuse.

You walk off before you can say something even stupider, tossing a casual “See ya!” over your shoulder.

You don’t see the way Bucky watches you leave.

But maybe it’s better that way.

–

You find Yelena in her room, sitting cross-legged on her bed with a bag of chips balanced on her lap and some ridiculous crime documentary playing in the background.

She doesn’t look up when you knock—just gestures lazily. “It’s open.”

You step inside, shutting and locking the door behind you. “Hey!”

“How was grocery shopping?” She smiles, knowing exactly what she did. 

You narrow your eyes at her. “It was alright.” You sit next to her, silently watching the show with her. As she turns to you, she tilts her head, “You know it’s obvious, right?”

You return her pointed look. “What is?”

“Your feelings for Barnes.” Yelena says, as if she didn't just drop a metaphorical bomb on you.

“Oh my God.” You groan, dramatically flopping onto her bed. “I don’t—I do not like that man.”

Yelena arches a brow, unimpressed.

“I mean, as a person, sure, yes, I respect him. But I don’t have feelings for him.”

“Mhmmm,” Yelena pretends to listen to you. 

A sudden realization hits you like a bucket of cold water. “Wait… You planned the grocery store!”

“Look at that,” She says, smirking. “You used your smart brain.”

You stare, betrayed. “Yelena.”

“Team bonding,” she says with exaggerated air quotes. “I just pulled that out of my ass. You’re welcome.”

You stare at her. “I dont–”

She points at you, a mysterious look in her eyes. “You don't have to lie,” Yelena says, her tone extremely casual, “It’s normal. Girl likes Boy. Boy likes Girl. End of story.”

You shake your head, because it’s never that easy. 

“No. Not end of story. There is no story,” You say, almost pleading, “I can’t like Bucky, he’s literally perfect!”

Yelena looks at you like you’re crazy. “Him?”

“He was literally in Congress. He’s friends with Captain America…” you mutter, like the words are proof of something. “And. I had options after I left the Red Room, and I still chose the wrong path. I didn’t know better, but I still chose wrong. That makes me a terrible person.”

Yelena pouts.

"Okay,” Yelena says softly, voice steady, “Well then you are fooling yourself. Because you’re not a terrible person and you still like Bucky.”

“Stop saying that— Lena, please.” You whisper, glancing around instinctively. You’re in her room, door closed, but still. You’ve never trusted thin walls.

She rolls her eyes. “Fine. I know my place. But Alexei—”

“Lena!” You hiss.

“What! Don't blame me, it's obvious.” She says, not even pretending to feel bad, “I can try to get him not to speak about it. At least not in front of Bucky.”

You feel the tension ease out your shoulders. “Thank you.”

–

The transition from fall to winter always makes Bucky feel…heavier. 

To be fair, Bucky tries fighting this feeling. He’s spent almost his whole life feeling bad about himself, but lately, he's been getting better, courtesy of Dr.Raynor.

He loves his cat, Alpine, the little menace who isn’t afraid to stand her ground.

He loves the small bookstore that opened a few blocks away from the Tower, which rekindled Bucky’s reading phase, a quiet escape he missed dearly. Because ever since he joined this rag-tag team of heroes, he hasn’t fully had time to be by himself.

He’s even started to listen to some of the music you recommended, a nice attempt to drag him out of his olden days into the new century. 

In general, Bucky has started to make peace with things.

It truly is the little things that matter.

Of course, he can’t help but notice the way you light up when he tells you he likes a new song, or how your face softens when he asks for more recommendations. Bucky knows it’s silly, but he likes these moments, even if he can’t bring himself to say it outright.

Ever since your departure from the Red Room, you threw yourself into countless hobbies, desperately trying to reclaim the pieces of your stolen childhood. Singing, writing, reading, painting, gaming—each one a quiet act of defiance, a way to remind yourself that you were more than what they made you. But the one thing that always pulled you back from the edge, the one thing that never wavered, was music.

Sometimes, late at night when Bucky couldn’t sleep, the nightmares being too much to bear, he'd listen to the songs you gave him. He’d picture you in your room, headphones on and swaying to the music gently. And it gave him hope, that maybe he could do it too, maybe he could find something that made the world more bearable to go on with.

On one of those nights, he found himself sitting alone in the dimly lit living room, Alpine curled up on the couch beside him. He didn’t even bother turning on the lamp. His thoughts were heavy, but the soft hum of music in his earbuds offered a silent comfort.

That’s when he heard your footsteps in the hallway, light but sure. You paused at the entrance, your hair tousled from sleep, wearing one of his old shirts that always made him smile.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked softly, stepping into the living room, surprised to see him. 

“Yeah,” He mutters softly, as he raises the book he was reading in his hands.

At the sight of the book, you remembered how he loaned you The Hobbit, “Speaking of books, I’ve read your annotations.”

Bucky seemed to forget how to respond for a second, “You actually read those?”

 “Well, it was kinda hard to ignore them,” You reply, settling next to him on the couch as Alpine took off and disappeared into the darkness. “I loved seeing how you view the characters. Makes the story ten times better.”

“Good to know,” He replied, smiling faintly at that, a tired but friendly smile which always made your stomach churn.

So many questions filled your mind, yet it wasn't the moment to voice them. Why was he awake? Was everything alright? What was his experience like in Congress?

For the most part, you kept those questions to yourself. But one of your thoughts had to slip out.

“What are you listening to?” You asked softly, your tone warm and curious, an attempt to change the subject.

He raised his brow, almost surprised by the question. Bucky gently pulled out one earbud, offering it to you as if sharing a secret. “One of the songs you recommended,” he said quietly, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest moment as he handed you the earbud.

Sliding it into your ear, you hear the soft beat of one of your favorite songs, you look at him. This was one of the first songs you recommended to him, because it helped bring you out from a dark place many moons ago.

You can't believe your ears, you turn to him with a small smile on your lips, “Can’t believe you still listen to this.”

“It’s a decent song,” He shrugs almost shyly, his eyes gentle, “Kinda helps…sometimes.”

You understand.

You don't say anything else, not out loud anyway. Instead, you just let the song fill between you, the familiar beat serving as a connection between you too. In that moment, there's no need for words or actions, the music says everything.

Bucky shifts closer to you, just slightly, as if the small distance between you guys was a barrier. 

You feel the heat of his shoulder against yours, the comfort of his presence. He doesn’t look at you, You don't look at him, you’re just trying to slow down your heartbeat. Your gaze shifts to his metal arm; beautiful and metallic. Slowly and carefully, you reach out and lay your hand over his, your fingers tracing the cool ridges of the vibranium plates. He stiffens for a split second, then relaxes, his shoulders sagging just a little.

You know what this means. You know you’re trying to let yourself feel, something unfamiliar and scary, but also something you can’t keep ignoring anymore.

“I hope this… doesn’t make you uncomfortable. I just–”

Bucky shakes his head, cutting you off softly. “It’s fine,” he says, his voice calm and almost dismissive—like it’s no big deal to him, even though you both know it is. “Doesn’t bother me.”

You then, feeling bold and comforted by his casualness, reach for his hand. Your fingers wrap around his, the contrast of his cool metal arm against your flesh arm making you feel grounded. He doesn’t pull away—if anything, he shifts just a little, his thumb brushing against your knuckles in a silent reassurance.

You almost cry.

The warmth of the moment lingers, you make a mental note to yourself to write this down somewhere, afraid you might forget that this happened.

Eventually, you start to get tired and fall asleep leaning on his shoulder. Bucky was gentle, careful not to move too much and disturb your sleep, as he shifted slightly, sliding one arm under your knees and the other around your back to lift you up. You stirred a little, but didn’t wake, your head moving against his chest. He carried you to your room, the softest look on his face.

He opened the door and slowly put you on your bed, adjusting the covers to cover your entire body. He paused for a moment to look at you, your face so calm and peaceful even in your sleep. A small grin showed up on his face.

Then he remembered how this might look if you woke up right then, and he shifted back awkwardly. “Night,” he whispered softly, careful not to disturb you, and just a little embarrassed as he closed the door gently behind him.

After 3 hours of sleep, You woke up feeling a bit confused. You sit up slowly, trying to recall how you ended up here, in your bed, tucked like a little lamb in Mary’s farm. Then, You remember the soft music and Bucky hours before.

You remember the soft feeling you felt in your heart when you held his hand. A tiny smile tugging at your lips, as you brush your fingers over your soft comforter.

If only Dreykov can see you now.

---

You stepped off the black transport van, keeping your shoulders tense with your eyes scanning everything. A special thanks to your time at the Red Room –giving you paranoia forever. The cold air immediately greeted you as it pushed past your thin ass jacket, you didn’t shiver at all. You’re used to these types of climate, you couldn't afford to look weak in front of your new team. The Thunderbolts.

Behind her, Yelena dropped down from the van and gave her a light push with her arm. “You good?” she asks, in a low volume for only you to hear.

You gave her a curt nod and looked ahead of you, Yelena led the way towards the New Avengers tower. You notice a buff man with a metal arm standing in front of the doors, his arms crossed over his chest. 

One thing about the Red Room – it traumatized you. You were conditioned to have no fear. But, after years outside that hellhole – thanks to Yelena and Natasha – you started to feel things. Emotions. Fear. Distrust. Sadness.

Many people will describe you as always uncomfortable; in other terms you were uncomfortable around people you didn’t know. Coming back to the States, you realized some people truly are evil assholes. 

Yelena greets the man with the arm, “Hey, tin-man.”

He looks at her and nods his head towards you in confusion. You immediately grow nauseous.

“She’s with me.” Yelena reminds him.

He looks at you for a beat too long, your fingers twitch at your sides. You hate this feeling – actually being seen, a strong contrast to your old ways – disappearing in a flash. You turn your gaze away, fixating on a crack on the floor near your feet.

“Right,” the big guy said – Bucky Barnes, you remembered, the Winter Soldier, without his long hair he looks like a new man, he steps aside and realizes his harsh demeanor as he fixes it with a small smile, “Welcome.”

You say nothing as you walk past him with the blonde. Yelena says, “Y/N keep walking straight to the elevator and wait for me.” You continue walking as Yelena turns to Bucky.

“She’s not great with people.” Yelena says protectively, “So, don't take it personally.”

Bucky scoffs, “Didn’t notice.” Bucky really doesn’t blame you. He hasn’t met you for longer than 4 minutes and he can already tell you were damaged. In the nicest way possible, you reminded him of his old self.

Yelena tuts and walks to where you’re standing really awkwardly. You give her a smirk. “Nice digs.”

Yelena smirks, glad she finally has a place to call home, “You should see the kitchen, totally worth it.” She hits the button for the elevator, causing it to immediately open as you both step in.

—

NEXT WEEK

The mission didn't go exactly as planned. Many more bodies were wasted than anticipated. Bucky and You were partners in the same sub-division, meanwhile Walker and Yelena were on the other side of the building.

As the team made it inside the Avengers tower, Walker yelled, “Are you guys really that incompetent you can’t follow simple procedures?”

You frown, jaw tense, you know you messed up but he was being a tiny bit harsh. He turns to you and immediately frowns, “And you! The fuck is your problem–”

Before he says anything else, Yelena steps between you silently, face held up, like a shield. 

Walker’s sentence falters – because let’s be real who isn’t a tiny bit afraid of Yelena.

“She made a mistake,” Yelena says, her voice even.

Walker scoffs, clearly done with this shit, “Whatever. Next time, keep her in check.”

No one moves until he storms out the room, his footsteps finally fading away to his room. Bucky then turns to you, “You okay?”

You’re about to answer, but Yelena does that for you, “She’s fine.”

Bucky looks to Yelena, then to you, then back at her and nods awkwardly, “Alright then.” Then he makes his way to the kitchen, probably to get himself some much needed coffee. Yelena follows him and you can’t help but feel helpless, you know you made a mistake, but it isn’t your fault. You did seem a bit kill-hungry, maybe it was the way the Red Room had embedded this hunger into you. Or maybe it was the coping methods you used to relieve yourself from the never-ending weight of the world on your shoulders.

After they leave, you exhale a breath you didn’t even know you took. You make your way into your room and look around. You curse yourself for thinking you can do this —- because you can’t.

Not with how your hands won’t stop shaking once you’re alone. Your heartbeat trying to claw its way out your chest, and certainly not with that terrible voice in your head whispering that you’re shit, and that you always will be.

You sit on the edge of your bed and dig your fingers into your stomach, hopefully trying to drown out these thoughts with pain. Repeating that you’re fine and this is totally normal. 

Add that to the list of the many things that's wrong with you.

You sit in the dark for a while, the warmness of your room seeping into your bones, the soft hum of the compound being the only sound. You think about how Walker’s words sting, you think about the 4 bodies that happened to die by your hand today, you think about how Bucky looked at you as if he was trying to understand you. 

You almost chuckle at the thought because you're still trying to understand yourself. You hated that he looked at you so gently. How his blue eyes tried to unravel your soul and purpose of being here. You hated it because it made you want to spill your secrets, on why you’re like this, on how the Red Room forged you into this fucked-up piece of shit who can barely form a single thought without thinking about the blood on your hands.

You dig the fingers against your stomach harder. 

Oh the unnecessary deaths.

You hate that part of you still flinches when someone raises their voice, even if it is Walker being a jackass. You hate that you aren’t normal enough to love the fact that someone as sweet and kind-looking as Bucky motherfucking Barnes even looks your way. Because what if he sees your worth? What if he finds out that you truly are damaged and unfixable?

You’re not good. You’re not a hero. Hell, if the perspectives were turned, you were a villain. You’re blessed to have Yelena fight for you because you’ve done immeasurable things. You don’t even count yourself as a person anymore, you were forged and made into a weapon. Someone who was kept on a leash from an early age, you have to pretend you’re healed from it. No emotion and no hesitation showing; just how it was back in the Red Room. You’re not even sure about how you didn’t snap yet.

You press your forehead into your knees, maybe staying this way will dull away the pain. Just for the night. You need to find a way to deal with this before it gets worse, because you can’t afford to fall apart now. Not when you can feel something good within these four walls. A family. The Thunderbolts didn’t turn you away when Yelena brought you here. You have to prove to them that you belong here.

A knock raps gently on your door.

Once. Then Twice.

You freeze. You don’t answer. Silently praying to any God that can hear you that whoever it is will go away. As you hold your breath you hear a voice,

“It’s me.” 

Your face cringes. Fuck. You blink, once, then twice, then again for good measure.

Bucky.

“I–” He pauses, careful about his choice of words, “I know you’re probably not in the mood. I just wanted to – I made you a sandwich.”

You frown, tilting your head to the left. He made you a sandwich?

You don't speak yet. You don’t even move from your spot.

But he doesn’t leave, he continues, “It’s a peanut butter sandwich.”

You stare at the door. You hate how sweet this man is. His kindness feels as if you’re using him, like if he offers you a sliver of kindness, you’re taking something that you don’t deserve.

You get up from the bed, because now that you think of it. You are hungry. You open the door and see that he has changed into a much comfier set of clothes; a black shirt showing off his metallic metal arm, along with gray sweatpants. You can’t lie, he looks good right now.

As soon as you open the door, he looks down at you and notices you still in your gear. But before he even mentions that, you say something, “I’m allergic.”

He looks confused. “Huh?”

“To peanut butter.”

He blinks, “Allergic?”

You nod sadly, “Deadly, even.”

Silence. Another beat of silence passes as you guys share eye contact. Then, Bucky chuckles, “Yelena literally made you a peanut butter sandwich yesterday.”

You freeze. Oops. “It was my cheat day.”

“Yeah, okay,” His lip twitches, almost like he’s fighting a smile. You’re funny, he’ll give you that. “Well besides your allergies, I can make something else?”

You cringe. Maybe Bucky Barnes is something good. Maybe he is the light at the end of the tunnel. Or maybe you’re spiraling to have something good in your life. Either way, it doesnt change the fact that he’s practically begging you to eat.

You glance down at your tactical boots, you still see remnants of blood on them. “You don't have to.”

“I know,” he says simply, “But, I’m still here.”

Your eyes flick back up to meet his. Warmth. He’s not trying to push. Just offering.

“I dont know what, I would like to eat,” You admit softly as you cross your arms across your chest.

But that doesn't faze him, “Good thing, we have a big ass kitchen, with an even bigger food selection."

You snort under your breath softly, he smiles at your response. Grateful that he’s finally seen you smile ever since you got here. He’s about to turn to lead you back to the kitchen but he remembered you’re still in your gear.

“Go on and change,” He started, “I know you’re uncomfortable right now.”

You look back into your almost empty room. Kinda embarrassed you admit, “The few clothes I came with happen to be in the wash..”

He pauses, brows furrowing slightly before his expression softens, “Hold on.”

He disappears back into his room at the end of the hallway, leaving you at the doorway, half regretting that you opened the door and the other half grateful that you did. When he returns he’s holding a black hoodie and gray sweats – which looks incredibly too big for you.

“Here,” He offers you, as he holds it out to you as if he’s giving you a high five.

You hesitate. “Isn’t that yours?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s clean though.” He smiles awkwardly. Maybe he’s coming off too strong. He doesn’t wanna scare you off.

You take it. “Thanks.”

He nods. No problem.

“I’ll be in the kitchen.” He says, before heading off.

You watch him go and as soon as he’s gone from your vision, you look down at the clothes in your hand… and smile.

You quickly change out your clothes and immediately wear Bucky’s. It’s soft. A nice alternative to the previous clothes you’ve worn. It smells so warm as well. You look into your bathroom mirror and see yourself, you look tired and worn out. Setting a quick reminder to yourself that after your meal, you need to sleep for about 12 hours.

Bucky’s hoodie easily covers your whole torso and is almost too long for your arms. The sweatpants are almost dragging the floor, but they are soft and warm, so who are you to complain?

You couldn't believe it. Just a few hours ago, you were taking lives. But now? Now you are in a new home. With people who might become your new family.

With another quick glance at the mirror, you walk outside making your way into the kitchen.