The engine of the jet whined loudly as the ramp of the hanger lowers. You and Bucky move in sync out of habit, shoulder to shoulder, exhaustion hanging heavy from your limbs.

Your boots hit the floor of the tower and your chest tightens, sharp and familiar.

The tower still smells the same. Polished metal. Pine. Coffee that’s been sitting too long. You swore that you could still catch a trace of Tony's favourite bourbon. Steve's leather jacket. Natasha's perfume.

"Nice work out there." John says, clapping his hand onto your shoulder once. "Whole mission went clean."

Ava snorts. "Because she got what we needed quickly enough so that none of us could screw it up."

"Like always." Yelena adds.

You offer a tired smile, shrugging off the compliment in the way you’ve learned to. You weren't anything special, you'd been raised to be lethally efficient. It was what you were programmed for.

You knew Bucky would kill you if he knew you thought that way.

His eyes were on you as you pulled ahead of the others to join him. Sometimes you felt like he could read your mind. Maybe he could, you wouldn't put it past Hydra.

You both collapse onto the couch in the living room without a word. Your heads leant against one another automatically like magnets, eyes fluttering shut.

Peace and quiet, a brief respite from the endless noise.

Your moment of peace shatters as the door bursts open and the rest of your team spill inside.

"I definitely had the most take downs today." John boasts.

"Excuse me, did you see me take out those guards? I saved your stupid butt." Yelena retorts.

"No. I was too busy taking out a whole floor of them." John replies flatly.

You hear Bucky exhale through his nose.

Yelena kicked off her boots, moving to walk away but pausing when she noticed your eyes on her. She lets out of a huff of defeat and toed them inline with the other shoes by the door.

John followed suit with Ava and Alexei not far behind.

"Yeah well while you two were out playing whack a mole I was busy shutting down the entire security system." Ava chimes in.

“That doesn’t sound as cool though.”

Being part of whatever the hell this new team was meant that silence was now a rarity. And moments shared between just the two of you were practically non-existent, whatever quiet space you and Bucky had spent years carving out for yourselves was now being eaten alive by your own good intentions.

It wasn’t that anyone was doing it on purpose. It was just that somehow, inexplicably, everyone ended up orbiting you.

And you couldn't say no to any of them, especially Bob.

He must have heard the ruckus of your return, now lingering near the doorway. You notice it immediately, the way his shoulders hunch over to shrink himself, his eyes flickering between everyone, like he was waiting to be told he wasn't welcome here.

You catch his eye and shift over on the couch to make room, patting the cushion beside you.

"Come on, someone needs to be the deciding vote for who was best on ground today."

His face lit up at your invitation, practically tripping over himself getting to you.

Bucky noticed too. He always did.

"Why do we need a deciding vote?" John complained.

"Because when have you guys ever not voted for yourselves?" You raised a brow.

That question set the rest of the team off again, bickering amongst themselves about who was the most biased and why.

Bucky didn't miss the way Bob leaned into you slightly as your hand rubbed small, grounding circles on his back, your attention entirely on him. His jaw tightened.

"You okay?" You murmured quietly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think so." Bob nodded. His eyes darted to the others to make sure they were still distracted before speaking again, this time quieter. "My head’s just...loud."

You nodded. If only Bob knew how much you really understood.

"Okay. We can do quiet. Do you want tea?"

"I can do it-"

"I insist." You said it with that firm but gentle tone Bucky had heard you use a thousand times before.

Before Bob could protest further, you push yourself off the sofa and make your way into the kitchen.

You reach for the kettle on the counter and began grabbing mugs off the shelf. You didn't need to ask anyone if they wanted a cuppa, the answer was always yes.

That had somehow become your job too. Feeding them. Herding them. Keeping the place running when missions ended and the adrenaline wore off and everyone was left with the aftermath and left alone with their trauma.

Bucky watched you move around the kitchen with that familiar ache in his chest.

This is what the public didn't see.

They saw the former assassin turned Avenger who they accused of being a coward for retiring - even though you were grieving the loss of so many of your friends, of your family.

They didn’t see the way you put yourself between the team and the sharp edges of the world without thinking. How you sacrificed your own time to help the others, going over mission reports to learn how your team could improve, keeping everyone steady from a distance. Didn’t see how you’d quietly become the glue.

“Tea time!” Yelena announced cheerfully, flopping onto the opposite couch.

"By the way, John tried to sneak one of the good towels into the gym again on Monday." Ava grinned, kicking her feet up onto the ottoman.

“They’re towels.” John argued. “They’re meant to be used.”

“They’re for guests.” You retorted.

Bucky’s mouth twitched upwards.

"Snitch." John grumbled as sat down beside Yelena.

You dutifully hand everyone their tea, each crafted perfectly to their liking. Yelena's with a drizzle of honey, John's with no milk, Alexei's with a dash of vodka, Bucky's the exact same as yours.

The room buzzed with overlapping voices as you settled back down beside Bucky. The both of you mostly sat in silence, listening to the others bickering and laughing, yours eyes darting to Bob every so often.

He had loosened up a bit, tentatively engaging in conversation with Ava about the best way to cook eggs.

You knew it would never be the same, but in moments like these it almost felt like you were back with your team again.

"You two have been awfully quiet." Yelena observed once there was a lull in conversation.

"I think it is time we heard story." Alexei grinned, swaying slightly from his armchair, a result of the three infused teas he'd drunk at breakneck speed.

"What kind of story?"

"Like what Winter Soldier was like when you first met."

The group groaned around you, causing you to laugh. It was no secret that Alexei was obsessed with Bucky, his 'Russian brother from another mother', a nickname Bucky was of course thrilled to have.

"I don't think anyone wants to hear-"

"We do." Alexei cut you off.

You glance around at the others, surprised to not hear a chorus of protests at his suggestion.

"Honestly I kind of am interested." John shrugged.

"Me too. I want to know if he was always this emo."

You could feel Bucky's glare from behind you at Ava's words.

"Well, I guess he always has been yeah." You grin softly as you leant back to look at him, his eyes softening under your gaze.

"He was my mission. Or I guess, Steve and I's mission. Once Steve realised who he was-"

"Steve as in... Captain America?" Bob piped up beside you, his eyes wide with wonder.

"Yeah sorry, Captain America." You nodded and swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the pang in your chest at the memory of him.

You felt Bucky's metal fingers along your thigh, a discreet touch of comfort.

"Once we realised who he was, we knew that we had to get him back. Make him remember who he was. He was a bit scary - or at least he thought he was - when I first met him he was in the habit of smudging black around his eyes. A bit like a racoon."

Despite himself, Bucky smiled as the others laughed around him.

Bucky knew that you were leaving out a lot of the story, the ugly bits, the lifelong scars that both of you carried, how much of a husk of a human he had been - and still felt like sometimes. How many times he'd snapped and tried to hurt you, how despite it all, you stayed. Because you knew that it was a story only reserved for the both of you, for no one else to know.

If it was possible, he would have fallen in love with you even more in that moment.

By the time the noise died down and the team had started dispersing, it was well past midnight.

Bob was dozing, head resting on your shoulder.

Bucky waited. Listened to the sound of your breathing beside him. Listened to the quiet return in pieces.

Finally, when Bob’s breathing had evened out completely, you gently eased him sideways so his head rested on a pillow. You tucked a blanket around his small body, like you had done a hundred times before.

When you turned, Bucky was standing, his hand extended out to you in silent offering. You shot him a tired smile and took it.

The soft click of your door shutting echoed off the four walls of your bedroom.

You leaned back against it, exhaling as the silence washed over you. "Sometimes I forget what it’s like to not be interrupted every five seconds."

You glance over to see Bucky seated on the edge of the bed, his mouth drawn taught.

He watched you as you crossed the length of the room, coming to stand in front of him. You slid onto his lap effortlessly, like a puzzle piece perfectly crafted to fit in with him. His hands automatically settled on your waist, his forehead tilting up to meet yours.

"I've missed you."

You laugh softly. “We were stuck on that mission together for three days."

"That doesn’t count." His voice was rough.

You cupped his jaw, pulling away slightly to study his face, noting the faint crease between his brows. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I just- I miss the silence sometimes."

"I know." You murmur. "We're both pulled in so many directions. But I do honestly think that once the team settles in things will get better. They'll be less..."

"Needy?" He suggested.

You huffed out a chuckle and nodded. "Yeah, needy."

Bucky shook his head as his hands slid under your singlet to trace circles on your skin.

"I don't think they will, they rely on you now. You keep them stable, offer them a safety net." He leans up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I'm not surprised. You're incredible. Always have been. I guess I'm just realising that I don't have you all to myself anymore, and I don't like it." He sighs. "I guess that's selfish."

"You're not selfish." You shook your head. "And even if it doesn't feel like it right now, you'll always have me just to yourself. Like in moments like right now."

You studied him for a moment, noting the way something flickered behind his features.

"Is there something else?"

He hesitated before speaking. Only for a beat. In your relationship, there was no such thing as secrets. The pair of you had done a lifetime of that already.

"You and Bob. I just-"

"-get jealous?" You tease lightly, causing his ears to tinge a shade of pink.

"Protective."

You smirk, letting your fingers twist around the dog tags dangling from his neck.

“Mmhmm.”

"I know he needs it, I get it, but he leans on you like that and gives you that puppy dog look and my brain just goes stupid because I used to give you that exact same look." He admits quietly.

“He’s a kid who’s been through hell." You murmur. "Same as us. And he sees us as safe."

Bucky swallows. "I know."

"And he reveres you. I've seen the way you are with him when you think no one is looking." You smile. "For a grumpy old man, you are extremely dad-coded."

He snorts. "Don’t ever say that to Sam."

You laugh, forehead resting against his. "I know it doesn't feel like it but we’re good, baby. We’re just...sharing. We will find time just for us, I promise."

He sighed, arms tightening around you. "Okay."

You kiss him before he can spiral further, slow and grounding, hands cupping his stubbled jaw.

"And baby?" You murmur against his lips.

"Yeah."

"Bob is so not my type."

He pulls back, brow raised at your teasing tone.

"I like my men much older. About 80 years older to be specific."

You laugh as he flips you around, pinning you underneath him on the soft mattress.

"You're lucky I love you." He warns, although the grin spread across his face reveals his true emotions.

"Shut up and kiss me old man."

And like the good soldier he was, Bucky did just that.

-

It’s early. Early enough that even New York is still half-asleep, the sun only just starting to bleed through the massive floor to ceiling windows of your bedroom.

You blink awake, becoming aware of the feeling of an arm looped around your waist, warm breath on the back of your neck.

The arm tightens around you at the sound of you stirring. "Morning."

You lean back into him with a sleepy hum. "You're not out running."

It was rare for the two of you to sleep in. Usually one of you was up exercising, or travelling, or on a mission.

"I thought we could sleep in. Enjoy some time together."

His warm hand skipped along the bare skin of your hip as he answered, his voice thick with sleep. It was enough to make desire pool deep in your belly.

"Does our sleep in have to involve actual sleep or...?"

You could feel his lips smile against your skin as he began to pepper kisses along your neck in response.

"Absolutely not."

The loud shrill of an alarm echoed throughout the tower before you could turn around to press your mouth against his.

"It might just be a test-"

Shouts echoing from the kitchen answered Bucky before he could even finish his sentence.

You both exchanged looks before hurrying out of your bedroom towards the sound. The alarm stopped as you reached the kitchen.

John was frantically waving a tea towel over the smoke alarm, Ava stood by the stove with her fingers pressed into her ears.

"What the hell is going on?" You demanded.

Ava held up a scorched pan. "John tried to cook eggs again."

"I said I was experimenting." He retorted, fear flashing across his face as he glanced behind you at Bucky.

You turned back to look at him, patting his arm apologetically.

"Okay. Put it in the sink. We’ll try soaking it."

The look on Bucky's face would stay with you all day. Not angry, never angry. Just...resigned. Defeated.

-

Later, the tower’s empty enough that you seek Bucky out, knowing he usually likes to gym at this time.

The sharp scent of metal and sweat hits you. The sound of the rhythmic thud of his fists against the bag. His eyes find you while he's rewrapping his hands.

“You done staring?” He asked breathlessly, a hint of something shy beneath the teasing tone.

“You going to tell me to stop?”

He shakes his head, a wry smile on his features as you step onto the mat.

"Need a sparring partner?"

"You think you can take me on? Aren't you a bit rusty?"

You place your hands on your hips. "I recall kicking your ass on a number of occasions."

He shoots you a smile, one that you know only a select few people on this planet got to see. Wordlessly, he wraps your hands for you, taking his time as his fingers ghost over your skin.

"Alright, let's see what you can do doll."

It's mostly half-hearted, both of you enjoying it too much to take it seriously. Although, you manage to get a few good hits in when he's distracted.

You take him by surprise suddenly, whipping out one of your signature moves, resulting in him landing on his back with a thud on the mat, your thighs wrapped around his middle - pinning him to the ground.

He lets out a huff, studying you as he tries to catch his breath.

"Got you."

"Yeah, you got me real good doll." His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, his eyes glimmering in amusement.

Your eyes narrow. "Did you let me win?"

"Now why would I do that?"

"So you could have me straddling you."

He chuckles, sliding his hands up your thighs. "Would it be such a terrible thing if I did?"

"You perv." You whisper against his lips, grinning as you lean forward to press your mouth to his.

"My oh my." Yelena tuts from the doorway.

"Are we sparring or is this some kind of weird assasin foreplay?"

Before you can stop yourself, you let out a laugh at the look on Bucky's face. He might actually commit murder this time.

Yelena's grin only widened.

-

At night, the tower is worse.

You don't have mission logs or squabbling teammates to distract you from your endless spiral of thoughts.

The halls echo differently when you know who used to walk them. Sometimes you catch yourself glancing at empty doorways and rooms, remembering voices that aren’t there anymore. Your old team, your family - scattered, gone, lost to time or choices that you still don’t fully understand. That you don't think you ever will.

Bucky finds you standing in the hallway one night, fingers brushing the wall like you’re checking if it's real.

"You okay doll?" He asks softly.

"Yeah." Your voice thick. "Just... weird being back here."

You're lying, Bucky knows that, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he slips his hand into yours and squeezes, grounding you in the present.

The sound of footsteps comes thirty seconds later.

Bob, pale and shaking, asking if you can sit with him for a bit.

Your face morphs into a kind smile, so convincing that the only person who can spot the pain swimming beneath the surface is Bucky.

You say yes. You always do.

Bucky watches you lead Bob back to his room, starting to guide him through breathing exercises with the same patience and kindness that you had once used on him. His chest aches.

He’s not jealous of Bob, not really.

He’s jealous of how much of you the world keeps taking.

-

It happens again the next night. And the night after that.

Alexei interrupting to ask Bucky which shade of red suits him best.

John knocking on your door because Ava "stole his charger" and "this is a matter of principle."

Yelena sheepishly calling you in the middle of the night after racking up a debt to some Russian mobster because she bet that she could do her nails and beat someone in a boxing match at the same time.

After a week, Bucky is visibly fraying at the edges.

He's even moodier than normal. You keep catching him staring at you from across the lounge room, expression unreadable. When you meet his eyes, he softens immediately, but there’s something else unreadable that lingers.

They notice.

Yelena and Bob first. Ava second. John and Alexei last.

They notice the way Bucky snaps more than normal, the longing looks you give him from across the gym, the tiredness so engrained into your faces that it seems that no amount of sleep could fix it.

So they make a plan.

You and Bucky are in the meeting room, pouring over one of the files for your next mission, when a throat being cleared dramatically makes you glance up.

"You and grandpa. Pack a bag."

You blink. "What?"

John slides a set of keys across the counter. "Safe-house upstate. Off-grid. No reception. Yours for a week."

Ava speaks before you can even think about opening your mouth. "Don't worry about things here. We made a chore chart. Bob even volunteered to help me cook."

Bob nods eagerly. "I learnt how to make soup."

You turn to look at him. "When on earth did you learn to make soup?"

"I watched a Gordon Ramsey video." He shrugs. "Figure it can't be that hard."

Alexei clasps Bucky’s shoulder. "Go. Be domesticated assasin lovers in peace."

Bucky's eyes scan the room, stunned. "Why are you doing this?"

Yelena smirks. "You were getting grumpy. It was affecting morale. Besides, with you two away we can throw a huge party."

You feel something warm bloom in your chest - gratitude and love for the new strange family you never meant to build.

-

Bucky sets your bags down by the door and stops.

For a moment, neither of you speak.

The safe-house is more cabin than house. It's simple and small, but there's a warmth to it.

No ghosts in the walls. No memories waiting to ambush you.

You watch him take it in. The way his shoulders loosen, the faint furrow line between his brows smoothing out, a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding loosening from his chest. He turns to you, his eyes brighter than you have seen in weeks.

"No one’s going to knock." He says like he can't even believe the words coming from his lips. "Right?"

You smile. “I think they’d have to drive about four hours to do that."

After unpacking, you both lay on the plush rug in front of the fireplace. You're in between Bucky's legs, your back pressed against his chest, a half drunk glass of red in your hand.

Quietness engulfs you.

Not the hollow quiet of the tower, but the kind of quiet that settles, slow and intentional. Fire crackling softly in the hearth. Wind nudging at the windows. The low hum of electricity somewhere in the walls.

No alarms. No voices down the hall. Just you and Bucky.

His arms encircle you, cool metal pressed against your fire-warmed skin.

"I can't believe they did this."

"I can."

He looks down at you when your head tilts up at his answer.

"I see it. How they orbit you." His thumb brushes slow circles over your belly.

"How you keep track of everything and keep everyone focused without making anyone feel small. How you make them feel normal, take on some of their pain to keep them going."

You blink back tears as he continues.

"After everything we've all been through, you make this job survivable. Keep us glued together. They know that."

Your throat tightens. "They just trust us."

He hums, resting his chin on your shoulder. "It's more than that. Bob called you ‘mum’ once."

You snort. "He did not."

"Yes he did." Bucky insists. "Under his breath. Right before Yelena threw a sock at him."

You laugh, real and warm, and lean back into him. "Okay, well if I'm going to be mum, I need you to be a bit more of a hands on dad."

"Hmm I don't know, my schedule is looking a little full."

"What, have you pencilled in your wallow in self pity at four o'clock?"

"Yep and at four thirty I've got to stare into the abyss..." He shrugs. "What can I say, I'm booked."

His smile widens as you let out another genuine laugh, internally patting himself on the back for remembering that pop culture reference.

"You won't have to do much." You continue. "We can be good cop, bad cop. All you'll have to do is give them one of your signature murderous glares and that should do the trick."

"I'll take it under consideration."

"Of course, only if you can find the time."

He presses a kiss to your forehead. Then the crown of your head, resting there.

"We have all the time in the world." He whispers.

Outside, the world listens to him and waits.

Silence engulfs you again - comfortable, earned.

Yours.

You sit up suddenly, your eyes wide as you turn to look at Bucky.

"You don't think Yelena was serious about throwing that party do you?"