#bbneverlosthim

“I don’t really know what you want me to say”

“Y/N” Tony says, exasperated, “I want you to say that you’ll be more careful”

“That’s a bit rich, comin’ from you”

Natasha scoffs at the young woman’s reply, quickly shrugging at Steve, who is positioned directly across from her in the quinn-jet.

“I” Stark continues, “Didn’t just ransack an entire underground base-“

“No, you were just waiting outside said base, with a shit-tone of explosives”

This time, Romanoff doesn’t even bother to disguise her laughter, much to the dismay of the other, more uncomfortable passengers.

“I also have a billion-dollar suit-”

“I can make myself one, if us matching would make you feel any better”

The offer silences Tony, who rubs at his goatee, screwing his eyes shut for a moment as he considers his sister.

“I’m sorry me doing my job makes you nervous” she offers calmly, standing up from her spot to pace towards the main console, “but, look on the bright side, we got all the tech we wanted, and, it’s one less HYDRA lair for SHIELD to worry about bringing down”

“She’s right, Tony” Steve inserts, speaking for the first time since their departure, “I’m not gonna say I agree with her method-”

“Oh good” Stark counters, still clearly irritated, “Because for a second there, it sounded like you were going to praise my little sister for jumping head on into a fight without backup”

“I had back up” Y/N mutters, keying something into the computer

“Like who?” Tony bristles,

“You” she answers, turning to face him.

It’s clear from the silence that follows, that that is something she was expecting him to have known already.

It’s also clear that her having that level of unwavering faith in him, is something he didn’t consider as a possibility.

He’s suddenly very flattered. It shows.

Y/N rolls her eyes, and everyone notices how identical the expression looks when it’s her who’s wearing it.

Tony smiles the rest of the way back to New York. Not even Fury chastising them for their ‘rash actions’ does much to temper his new found elation. In fact, when he tries to scold Y/N, by saying that ‘Reckless impulsivity’ must be a genetic trait they share, he only seems to get happier.

Steve looks somewhat satisfied with the days events, and Natasha is boarder line chipper considering her usual blank facade.

“What did you go back for?” she whispers, when Y/N eventually takes her seat, back at her side, “i pochemu ty pryachesh' eto ot svoyego brata?” and why are you hiding it from your brother?

“because it’s not any of his business” she answers calmly, ignoring the quirk in Steve’s brow, “Eto to, chto ya dumayu, prinadlezhit Sardzhentu Barnsu”

“Sargent Barnes?” Natasha echos, shock making her forget her place for once.

Rodgers snaps up in his seat, eyes suddenly trained in on the women-

“Don’t pretend you don’t know who he is” Y/N chides, “I know damn well you’ve both been tracking him for months-”

“You know Bucky?!” Steve demands in a hushed tone, acutely aware of their lack of privacy.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” she quotes, not bothering to hide her smirk.

“Son of a bitch!”

“Language” the women tease in unison.

Natasha has taken the minute of distraction to compose herself.

It’s hardly surprising Y/N has caught on to their lame attempts at locating the former assassin. They’ve been hacking into her tech after all-

“No offence” she chides, “but did either of you really think nobody was going to notice a bunch of Stark drones being deployed covertly with no authorisation? ”

It’s clear from Steve’s expression that that’s exactly what he’d thought.

“You’re lucky it was me who caught on” she says, “Tony would have put a stop to it pretty fast, y’know, he’s still a little sour about the whole he murdered our parents thing”

“Y/N/N” Steve begins, clearly desperate, “He didn’t know- there is no way Bucky would’ve-”

She raises a hand to silence him, nodding over at her brother who is still blissfully focused on the navigation software.

“You’ve been keeping him off our tracks” Natasha realises, blinking between the siblings, “You are the one that’s been helping me decrypt the security codes-”

Y/N just shrugs.

“You’re actually quite good” she comments, “for a field agent”

Natasha rolls her eyes, bumping her shoulder playfully.

Steve shifts anxiously on his seat clearly trying to process the information he’s just been hit with.

“If you” he begins, “If you’ve already been doin’ that, would- would you help us? I’m sure with you runnin’ some of the kit we track him down in-”

“I don’t need to track him down” Y/N says pleasantly, shutting her eyes, “I know exactly where he is”

Before either of the others could formulate a response, she’d put her headphones in, and was leaning back against the wall, seemingly serene.

Steve had festered for the entire journey back, sharing strained looks at Natasha who seemed to be utterly unwilling to share in his urgent need to do something.

Once they’d landed, Tony had rushed his sister down to their lab to run some tests on the things they’d brought back, and to update Banner who’d been staying behind with Clint.

Much to his continued dismay, Black Widow had only cautioned him against doing anything stupid where the Starks were concerned. Warning him that he was on thin ice with Tony already, and reminding him of the older man’s protective nature, when it came to his sister.

“But she knows Nat” he’d insisted, “she knows his name, she knew about the bridge, about what he said-”

“maybe” Natasha allows

“-How?! How the hell does she know about that” he half demands, “and how, has does she know ‘exactly where he is!?”

“I don’t kn-”

“Shocking” Y/N says, pushing the door to the room open with a smile on her face, “You’re in the dark about’ somethin’ Red? I’d never have believed it-“

Before the spy can react the teasing, Steve has reacted, he’s turned, jaw locked as he reaches out to grip her arm, hard enough to leave a bruise.

She stiffens at the sudden contact, and Natasha takes a step towards the pair.

Their eyes are locked together, Y/N looks almost curious by the boldness of the mans actions, but she can tell that he’s hurting her, even though she knows him well enough to be certain it’s not deliberate.

“Steve…” she cautions, astutely aware of the way that the other woman is assessing the scenario “let her go”

“Unless you want you and your old buddy to have a matching set” Y/N says, flicking a glance at his hand, “then I’d do what she says.”

Steve releases her instantly, ashamed of the way he’d acted on instinct, without considering how he much have hurt her in the process.

“I’m sorry” he says sincerely, taking a step back, “I didn’t mean to-”

“I know” Y/N accepts, damp hair falling in front of her face as she offers him an amused smile, “Don’t worry about it”

“Y/N/N” Nat begins, hopeful that if she can do the talking, they might stand a chance of leaving this interaction with more information then they’d started with, “You said you know where Barnes is located”

“I did” she agrees, leaning on the counter, “I do”

Steve watches her, body thrumming with adrenaline.

“How?” Nat presses, “we’ve been running drones-”

“I know what you’ve been doin’” she replies, “and don’t get me wrong, I love a satellite controlled drone as much as the next girl, but I’ve been takin’ a different approach in terms of gettin’ an updated location-”

“-and that is?”

“I called him a couple of days ago.”

Steve’s jaw drops open, Natasha’s locks shut.

Y/N looks at the duo, and her amusement visible shifts to something more akin to sympathy, when she sees how earnestly Steve wants information about his friend.

“He’s alright…” she offers, “… safe”

“He has a cell phone?” Nat mumbles, more annoyed at herself for not figuring that out, than she is absorbed in the nuance of the conversation

“He takes your calls?”

“Well yeah” Y/N replies to both of them, “I check in every now and then”

“You… check in, on the winter soldier?”

“Are we still calling him that?” she quips, turning to look at Natasha, “I mean, we can I guess, but it sounds a little formal don't you think? I usually stick with Bucky"

Steve is still speechless. He just blinks dumbly at the women for a second, thoughts racing.

“What?” Y/N chides, “You’re the only one allowed to make new friends?”

He runs a hand through his hair, starring at her again.

“Is that what you are? His friend?”

She thinks his tone is awfully protective, if a little suspicious. It doesn’t take her long to decide that it’s endearing, rather than offensive, so she offers him a smile before shrugging, and murmuring a “somethin’ like that” that makes Natasha scoff.

Another, longer silence fills the room. Nobody seems keen on breaking it, and the mutual air of acceptance that has come with it.

Steve isn’t sure why he trusts the woman’s intentions, but that doesn’t change the fact that he does.

Natasha has always loved Y/N. Their bond goes deeper and further back then any of the others know, so there was never any part of her that was going to risk upsetting her over a man she’s never spoken to.

“He’s expecting a call tonight” Y/N says finally, “I'll tell him you say hello”

The hope that flairs behind Steve’s eyes is sweet. He grins and takes a step towards her, he catches himself though, and slows his movements, feeling absurdly guilty about the way he’d greeted her earlier.

“I’m not giving you his number” she tells him firmly, with no hint of apology

“Please” he asks, feeling the optimism he’d been experiencing a moment ago dissipate like smoke, “Y/N-”

“I can’t” she replies, looking at the other woman for support, “He knows you’re looking for him, Steve, he knows where I live, I-”

“is he angry at me?”

“What?” both girls say in unison

“Why would he be angry at you?” Y/N asks, as Natasha offers her a confused glance.

“I- I left him, I-“

“You nearly died” Black Widow inserts, “He nearly killed you”

“That doesn’t matter Nat, I-”

“No” Y/N says calmly, “No Steve, he’s not angry with you- He’s-” she sighs, “He’s not angry at anybody”

“So why-”

“He’s scared, Steve” Natasha says, as if that answer had been obvious, “I mean can you blame the guy?”

Y/N averts her eyes, but it’s obvious from her expression that she agrees.

“I don’t-”

“God, Steve” the red head continues, "He's clearly running from something, and right now, my money's on us-”

“-Oh, god…”

Y/N looks up seeing, hearing the remorse in their voices.

“He’s fine” she repeats, “but he’s not ready for a reunion”

It looks like he might cry. She can barely handle it, so she moves in, closing the few steps between them, and pulls him into a hug.

He laughs into her shoulder, shocked at the contact, but not displeased. He holds onto her, before nodding when she pulls away.

“Would-” he sighs, clearly emotional, “Would’ya tell him, I’m- I’m sorry, I’ll- I’ll give him space, and I- I swear I never meant to make it any harder on him I just- I just miss him-”

“I’ll tell him, I promise”

He nods again, and reigns himself back in, the best he can, pawing at his face to stop tears from filling his eyes.

“So…” Nat begins, “…what did you bring back for him?”

Steve turns to face the spy, and then the Stark.

Y/N is grinning, as she pulls a silver chain from her pocket.

“What’s that?” Romanoff asks, looking at the dog tag that’s hanging from it almost suspiciously, “and why do you think it’s his?”

“Because it is” Y/N answers calmly, “Isn’t it?”

She hands it to Steve, who holds it like it’s fragile, like it’s precious, or like he’s worried it might disappear.

He turns the tag over in his fingers, looking at the familiar engraving with awe.

“It… that… that’s not possible”

“Clearly, it is” Y/N teases, taking it back from his hands, “He told me about it once, said he’d never taken it off before he fell- when I saw it in that drawer I figured I should probably get it back to him”

“We had them made” Rodgers says, “when we got him out of that camp, everyone was jokin’, said it was so if one of us got lost, we’d get brought back to the other”

“Where’s yours?” she asks, eying his baron neck,

“Somewhere at the bottom of the ocean.”

The sadness in his tone is heavy. It pulls at Y/N’s heart strings until one almost snaps in her chest.

“Well, maybe it’ll come back to you one day” is all she says, even though she feels like she owes him more than that.

He forces a chuckle and nods.

“How are you gonna get it to him?” he asks, clearly nervous, “it could get-”

“I’m going to hand it to him” she says, “I’m not going to risk sending it in the mail, Steve, I promise”

His curiosity is clearly sparked again, but this time, he bites his tongue.

The trust he’s putting in her is tangible. She offers him a smile, and tucks the necklace away.

“I’m gonna get back to T-” she announces, pressing a peck against Natasha’s cheek, “I’ll let you know how he’s getting on”

“We’ll stop the drones” the other woman offers,

“You don’t have to” Y/N replies over her shoulder, “they’re way off track”

Steve shakes his head, dismayed- earlier that week they’d been sure they’d gotten a lead in Budapest.

“We really weren’t ever close?” Nat asks, almost irritated

“No” she replies apologetically, “But if it helps, you were up against me, so you never really stood a chance”

“Careful, darlin” Steve cuts in, “you’re startin’ to sound-”

“Like an arrogant douche bag” Natasha finishes for him,

Y/N laughs, loud and hearty like her brother.

“Maybe it’s genetic” she suggests playfully, “Recklessness, Impulsivity, Arrogance, I’m sure Fury’s puttin’ a list together-”

The shift in his demeanour is so obvious that the other man speeds up his departure. Offering the duo a smile as he ducks out of the door in silence.

“Hey” Bucky hears Y/N coo, once they’re alone, “Hey, baby… Look at me.”

Again, he’s not sure when he’d started staring at his feet. He pulls his gaze up to her face and watches her head tilting as she considers him.

“That wen’t well” she says, “I think you’re all talked out, huh?”

He nods, not trusting himself to speak without his voice cracking.

“Are you hungry, or do you want to just settle somewhere?”

I could eat, he thinks, But I, I don’t want too.

Silently, he glances at the door to the bedroom, and then, over to the couch.

The crackling fire is nice. He wouldn’t mind just curling back up on there. The bed had seemed so soft though. So warm and-

“C’mon, baby” Y/N sighs, giving his palm a squeeze, “Lead the way”

He starts moving straight away, but his steps are slow— careful— as he paces towards the entry to the bedroom.

Blue eyes catch her brown ones for a split second as he tries desperately to gauge wether or not she approves of his choice. He can’t read her face though, not before he’s overcome by a terrible wave of anxiety that prompts him to keep moving. He presses the door open, and only stops when he’s by the wooden footboard, toes by his discarded backpack.

“You wanna wash up first?” she asks him patiently, “or loose some layers?”

He withdraws his hand from hers, silently peeling off his t-shirt as she mirrors him, undressing herself and dumping her clothes on a pile in the corner.

“I’m goin’ to wash my face real quick” she tells him next, “You get comfy, okay? unless you wanna use the bathroom too?”

He doesn’t, so he just shakes his head a fraction and tries to console himself by looping his arms across his chest. One of his hands slips up, to paw at his chain whilst he inches himself closer to the side of the bed he knows is for him.

Y/N doesn’t spend long in the adjacent room. She’s back in under five minutes, and when she reappears and finds Bucky curled up under the blankets in their bed, she can’t help the way her smile splits her face.

“Baby boy” she whispers, slipping under the comforter beside him, “You warm enough?”

He’s so warm.

There had been more blankets than he’d imagined, and every single one is thick and soft and he… he can’t believe he really gets to stay there.

He doesn’t reply, he just turns himself over to stare at her face.

And then, he moves his arms, unlacing them from their previous position across his ribs, so that he can reach out for her, even though she’s pretty close already;

Her heart aches as his fists open and close in a silent plea for more affection.

“C’mere” she whispers, indulging him by closing the gap between their fronts, “Bucky, you’re alright.”

He clings to her the second he can. He loops his arms around her waist and holds her tight against him—

“I…I-just w-wanted h-im to know” he croaks, “I’m— I’m not the same.”

“Shhhhhh” she hushes him, hating how splintered his voice is, “He knows, we all know, we love you anyway, it’s okay.”

Hearing that pushes him well past the line of restraint, and before he can do anything to stop it, he’s bawling.

Weak, breathy little sobs wracking his chest as he hides his face in her neck.

“Today’s been a lot for you to process” she tells him, “You’ve done real well, I’m so proud of you”

That only seems to make him cry harder, but, there’s a looseness to it that makes her think it’s better for him to just let it out.

She strokes his back, pressing her lips against his head as he tries to just let the wave of emotion pass.

He blacks out before it does, his body giving in to the adrenaline crash long before his eyes stop streaming.

It’s not the first time he’s sobbed himself to sleep in Y/N’s arms, and she knows it won’t be the last, so, she just soothes him the best she can. Waiting until she’s sure he’s actually unconscious before she lets herself drift off, too.

Bucky doesn’t sleep peacefully.

In all fairness, peaceful isn’t exactly his norm. His norm is restless, it’s light and easily broken.

But that night, he’s particularly unsettled.

He’s tossing and turning so violently that he Y/N wakes more than once.

The first time, it’s a little after midnight. The room is pitch black, and his flesh arm has struck outwards, landing an awkward jab against her thigh.

Instantly, her eyes open, and her own hand reaches out to take hold of his palm.

He seems to acknowledge the contact, even though she can tell from the pattern of his breathing that he is still unconscious.

She runs her thumb across the back of his knuckles until the tension leaves his muscles, until he sags back into the mattress with a sigh.

The next time, it’s three, and he jerks his whole body sidewards, barely staying still for a second before he throws himself over onto his stomach. When Y/N blinks her eyes open again, she sees the way his brow is furrowed behind the curtain of his hair.

He’s grimacing like he’s in pain.

She wonders absentmindedly if he is. If one of the many internal injuries he’s had crudely patched together over the years is hurting him and that’s why he can’t get comfortable, even though he’s already asleep.

It could be his skin too, she thinks, or his head.

Carefully, she reaches out with the hand he’d been holding earlier. She touches the tense surface of his brow and hushes him as she smoothes a piece of hair back behind his ear.

“Shhhh” she soothes, “What’s the matter?”

Bucky twitches restlessly. She lets her fingers trace his temple as his nostrils flare with the effort of deep breathing.

“Baby” she whispers sweetly, “You’re safe… you’re so safe”

His eyelids flicker, his tongue flicks out to wet his dry lips, and then, silently, he curls over onto his other side, so that his face is back, pressed against Y/N’s chest.

She relents instantly, curling her arms around him.

That position seems to help him stay settled, because it’s another 3 hours before he rouses his partner again.

This time, she might have missed it, had she not been pressed against him so closely.

His jaw is chattering, and then, he’s speaking.

At first, it’s inaudible. It’s barely a murmur, but then, it’s enough to wake her;

“Please” he croaks tiredly, “Please, please”

“Buck?” she murmurs, realising what’s happening, “Bucky-”

“Please” he repeats, eyes screwed shut, “Please, I don’t— I don’t want to go, I—”

“Oh, love” she almost yawns, fingers curling across his cheeks,

they’re damp. He’s crying, she realises, he’s crying in his sleep.

That’s awfully sad.

“Wake up” Y/N murmurs, drying his face with her thumb, “Bucky, it’s okay.”

Her voice tugs him out of the dream he’d been trapped in a moment before. He follows it, like the light at the end of a tunnel until he can finally open his eyes, blinking confusedly at her face.

It’s still dark, and his vision is clouded by tears, but still, he can make out the way she’s smiling at him.

Instantly, he remembers exactly why he’s crying.

“I- I didn’t want to go” he tells her wetly, “I- I was with my ma and I— I knew they were goin’ to make me go and do… do those things again and I- I didn’t mean to-”

“C’mere…” she says soothingly, “…You were dreamin’ about your momma?”

His chest rattles loosely as he nods, burying his red nose back behind her ear.

She can feel both of his hands fussing with the blanket beside her waist.

“I was a kid” he tells her shakily, “I- I was in our kitchen… at, at the table we used to have, but, but then I— I looked down and I— I had blood on my hands and then she… she was lookin’ right at me, and I- I had this arm, and the… there, there was someone at the door and I- I knew I- I had to go and I— I didn’t want to— she said— she said I had to, but I- I wanted to say sorry— I didn’t want her to see me like this… I d-didn’t mean too—”

“Oh, baby boy” she says, the second his quiet rambling fades off into sobs, “It’s okay…”

“I… I… didn’t get to s-say goodbye”

She knows he’s not just talking about this dream. She knows how much he misses his mother, and how hard it was for him to accept that she died, and he never got to grieve.

“I know” she agrees softly, “I know, I’m sorry”

He doesn’t talk about his family often. Usually it’s a subject that’s broached on nights like this, when he’s muddled and still half-asleep.

“She- she was mad at me” he whispers nervously, “she… she-”

“She loved you” Y/N counters quickly, “Bucky, she loved you so, so much— She wasn’t mad at you, I promise.”

He blinks, shifting a little so that he can prop himself up and really look at Y/N.

A tear rolls off his nose as he sniffs, the veil of sleep induced fogginess starting to really fall away.

“I woke you up” he whispers after a beat of silence, “I- I’m sorry”

“No” she replies, shaking her head, “don’t worry ‘bout wakin’ me up”

His face is a picture. A heart-breaking picture.

He looks small, she thinks, like he doesn’t know what to do next.

“Do you want a hug?”

Her question makes his head tilt, like he hadn’t expected it at all.

His eyes are still streaming, even as he nods.

“Please” he whispers, ducking back down into her arms, “A… a hug sounds nice.”

That makes her chuckle, as she helps him snuggle against her chest.

“You get all the hugs you want” she reminds him, “Forever, Buck— Unlimited hugs.”

“God” he sniffs, “Even if I wake you up, doll?”

“‘specially when you wake me up” she replies tiredly, “you’ve had a rough night”

Have I?

He doesn’t remember. As he combs through what memories he does have of the recent passed, he can just about grasp periods of discomfort. The abstract concept of pain, and fear, and feeling restrained.

But none of it is terrible.

Not with the way it’s interlaced with her. With the presence of a soft hand to hold onto. With the feeling of gentle fingers against his brow.

“Can you remember if somethin’ was hurtin’ you earlier?” she asks, genuinely curious, “I didn’t want to wake you up to ask.”

“Might’ve been my chest” he murmurs, settling into his position, “it’s been achin’ lately, or… or it could’ve been my back- that’s been playin’ up too”

“Sweetheart” she coos, “Is it sore right now?”

He’s quiet for a second, considering her question.

“A little” he replies honestly, “my backs alright, my… my chest is just— tight.”

“tight” she echos, fingers fluttering down to trace the outline of his ribs, “Is it down here, or higher up?”

“Both” he whispers shyly, “-right… right there is, is tender, doll.”

“Here?” she checks, pausing, fingers hovering just above his lowest three ribs on the right, he nods, and she sighs, understanding why, “They’re the vibranium ones, Buck… The ones they had to fix after your fall, do they bother you a lot?”

“It comes and goes” he grumbles, “it’s just throbbin’ somethin’ fierce…”

Y/N can feel a surgical scar as she lowers her hand, she ignores it as she wraps her arm back around him.

“It’s worse at night” he confesses, “It all is— the achin’, I mean— it… it’s like when I relax it starts up.”

“Yeah” she agrees calmly, “because you’re muscles are real good at compensating— You’ve had a long time to practice movin’ around, and stayin’ tense to keep the pressure off your bones so when you stop, when you soften up, it all starts to hurt.”

It sounds awfully simple when she says it like that.

The smile he offers her is shy, it’s embarrassed because he feels like he should’ve figured that out on his own.

“It’ll get easier” she tells him, “The longer you’re out of cryo, it’ll start to ease off, love… we’ve just gotta keep you warm.”

“You’re doin’ an awfully good job at that” he says, aiming for boyish charm, “I don’t think I’ve ever been so warm”

Y/N just beams, tucking him in even closer to her front as she nuzzles at his jaw;

He lets out a long, audible breath, and tightens both arms around her waist.

“Baby” she murmurs, tone softening again, “You want to go back to sleep?”

Does he?

“Maybe” he answers, “is it early?”

“Mhmm” she says, “four thirty”

“Can I stay here?” he asks, voice muffled by the way he’s buried his face against the crook of her neck, “Or am I smotherin’ you to death?”

He’s half joking.

Y/N indulges him with a soft reel of laughter before shaking her head no.

“You’re not smotherin’ me, Barnes…” she promises, “Get some rest, we’ll get breakfast whenever you’re next up”

“Could…” he mumbles, already half asleep, “Could we make pancakes?”

“Pancakes?” she echos, curious, “Sure.”

“My… My ma used to make them on Sundays…”

“It’s a Tuesday” Y/N teases lightly, already considering the ingredients she has in the small, ensuite kitchen, “but I think I can manage that.”

“I’ll help” he drawls, voice slurring now…

“Alright” she sighs, letting her own eyes close, “Square deal”

“Does… Does she have to call me that?” Bucky murmurs, looking awfully shy.

“No” Y/N chuckles, “No, handsome- She’ll call you whatever you want.”

“Can… Can you call me Bucky, please?” he asks, eyes looking up towards the ceiling again, “Sargent Barnes, doesn’t— uh, it doesn’t feel right, right now”

“Sure I can, Bucky— are you happy to accept the family-access I outlined earlier?”

“Oh so that’s why you decided to offer your assurances, huh?” Y/N sniggers, resuming their path up the stairs, “Here I thought you were just bein’ sweet”

“I don’t know what you mean, Ms Stark”

Y/N laughs again, and Bucky finds himself unable to control his curiosity.

“What do you mean, doll?”

“She’s getting impatient with us” she tells him calmly, “She wants you to tell her if you’re happy with the security allowances of if she’ll have to re-negotiate the parameters— that’s why she chimed in, she was trying to rush us along”

The AI doesn’t deny her statement.

“She can do that?”

“Sure” Y/N says, guiding him towards a corridor, now, “She can do whatever she wants”

“Within reason” FRIDAY alters, “but, to bring us back to the topic at hand—“

“Okay” Y/N chuckles, “I hear you—Buck, are you okay with family access? it’s the same as me and Tony, it’s basically a free pass”

“But…” he says, coming to an abrupt stop, “But what if.. what if somethin’ happens and you need… and you need to stop me—”

“Hey” Y/N says, tone firm, “That’s not going to happen.”

“But if it did” Bucky counters, “If I have access like that then I’d— I’d be a threat and I—”

“Excuse my interruption, Bucky” FRIDAY inserts, “But in the very unlikely event of a ‘Code White’ we would recognise the need to alter the parameters and temporarily implement control measures until the situation was managed.”

“A code white?” he asks, blinking between the roof and Y/N, “What-“

“Yes, FRIDAY” Y/N bristles, “What is a ‘code white?’”

“It’s your brothers protocol” the AI replies, “for if there is a problem involving ‘The Winter Solider' “

“Right” she says, “and what exactly does the protocol entail?”

“Mainly it’s the withdrawal of Bucky’s access to the internal operating systems within the building, though it also triggers an alert to make sure that you, your brother, and Captain Rogers are aware of the possible threat.”

“Is that all it does?” she asks, anger she’d felt towards her brother for setting this up behind her back starting to ease, “It doesn’t initiate any hostile actions?”

“No, boss— Mr Stark was very clear in his coding— Sargent Barnes is not to be treated as a threat, and if we become concerned about his condition, no offensive measures are to be taken— all actions would be geared around securing him until somebody with authority arrives to manually intercept.”

“No exceptions?”

“No, boss.”

She nods at that, and makes a mental note to buy Tony dinner one of these days.

“So” Bucky says, catching up— “If I… if something did happen, I- I’d lose access and you- you’d be told to come and get me from wherever I was?”

“Looks like it” Y/N agrees, “I’ll go over everything properly later but it looks like T has it all figured out”

“Then I accept” Bucky says, “But only as long as you promise me, Doll— Promise me that you’ll keep the ‘code white’ stuff in place, no matter what.”

“Bucky” she tries to reason, “It’s not necessary- I keep tellin’ you, it doesn’t work that way, you’re not some kind of time-bomb—”

“It makes me feel better” he tells her honestly, “Knowing that if somethin’ did happen, somethin’ I can’t control then you’d still be safe, I— I’m always so worried ‘bout that, doll, you know I am, and this, this might be a way I can relax a little”

She understands, even if she thinks it’s awfully sad.

“Alright” she sighs, “Alright, sweetheart, we’ll keep the ‘code-white’— but I’m not promising I won’t tweak it a little, I don’t know what he’s set as a ‘trigger’ for it yet.”

“Deal” Bucky accepts, shifting uncomfortably on his feet, “I… I accept the- the access.”

“Thank you” FRIDAY says, “and, I have uploaded a comprehensive list of ‘code-white action points’ to your tablets, boss— you can review or alter them at your convenience, your brother transferred control of the protocol to you last week.”

“Last week?” She echos, genuinely surprised, “When exactly did he start working on this little project?”

“Two weeks after you moved into the safe house, boss— He finalised it a month ago, but I assume he was waiting for you to make your relationship public before giving you access”

“We weren’t public last week” she counters, “What changed?”

“I’m not sure” FRIDAY replies, “but I would suspect it was something to do with the mission you returned from, as he reviewed the details shortly after you first returned.”

“Son of a bitch” she mumbles, “He heard me, on the quinn jet.”

“What?” Bucky asks, “wh-“

“Tony” she sighs, frustrated, “He must’ve heard me talkin’ to the others on the way back from that base— I keep forgettin’ his Russian isn’t terrible anymore…”

“So he… he knew?” Bucky checks, “He knew about—“

“If he had this thing set up a month ago I’d wager he’s known for awhile, I bet he heard me tellin’ Steve and figured that if I was doin’ that then it must’ve meant I was close to tellin’ everyone else.”

“but, he… he didn’t try and stop you from seeing me?”

“Why would he do that?” Y/N asks, genuinely confused, as she tries to urge him back into walking.

“Because I…” Bucky begins, obliging and taking a few more steps towards a door at the end of the hallway “..He… he-”

“I keep tellin’ you, sweetheart” she says, “I know he was angry when you first met, but was more hurt by Steve for not just being honest with him. You just happened to be there when it all blew up.”

“But I-”

“-You” she cuts in, “didn’t do anything, Bucky- Tony has a temper, but he’s smart, he understands- Sure, I didn’t want to rub this whole thing in his face but I never tried to hide it from him either, not like I did with Rodgers so he’s had plenty of time to adjust to the whole idea of us bein’ a couple.”

“But why has he gone to so much trouble?” Bucky asks now, “He didn’t have to do any of this, doll, not- not helpin’ keep Rogers away today, not tellin’ FRIDAY I was comin’—”

“He probably feels bad” Y/N shrugs, hand reaching out for the handle, “He’s not good at apologies, grand gestures have always been more his style.”

“Why would he feel bad?” he presses, genuinely not understanding, “It’s me who-”

“He lashed out, love, he hit you in the face” she reminds him, “more than once.”

The door to the suite they’re going to share opens silently.

Y/N beams, nodding at him as he peers over the threshold.

“I had it coming“ he mumbles, not being able to stay silent, “I deserved everything he did and more—”

“Looks like he disagrees”

“What?—”

His question dies in his throat as he steps into the room. His eyes widen as he takes in expanse of the space;

It’s beautiful. Soft, beige carpets, with deep burgundy walls, and dark, old wood.

It’s calm and welcoming and, layed out across leather arm chair that is to the left of the seemingly real fire, there is a huge pile of clothes.

Mens clothes. Large mens clothes.

Thick cable knit sweaters, sweat pants, jeans, and lots, and lots of t-shirts, all lying there, with a single red bow on the top of the pile.

Y/N steps towards it, and peels off a note, smiling as she hands it to her lover, who blinks at it, like it might burst into flames.

Welcome Home — T. Stark

p.s used Cap’ for the sizing. Y/N can show you how to exchange if needed.

“I think it’ll fit” she coos, holding up a dark blue jumper, “You’re not far off Steve, are ya’ love?”

He’s so overwhelmed by the gesture that he really doesn’t know what to say.

This is all more than he could ever have expected, and he doesn’t deserve any of it.

Not one single piece.

“8” he says, looking at her urgently, “8, Y/N, please this… this is all too much”

“Okay” she murmurs, discarding the sweater back on the pile, “It’s okay, you’re alright.”

“This” he huffs, looking around, “it’s too much, it— it’s too- it’s too nice, I— I can’t, I can’t take it, I— I can’t”

“You” she purrs, “are going to have to get used to niceness, Bucky. You haven’t had nearly enough of it lately.”

“I can’t take it” he repeats, imploring her to understand, “not after everything I’ve done —”

“You haven’t done anything” she counters calmly, “I know you disagree, I know it feels like it was all your fault, but it wasn’t— it really, really wasn’t”

He’s starring at her, wide eyed and anxious, one hand in hers as the other slips up, to fuss with his dog tag again.

Suddenly, Y/N finds herself remembering all the times she’s seen him reaching up to paw at his neck, before.

She’d written it off as a quirk, as something he just did when he was anxious, but now, the action makes a lot more sense.

“Baby” she sighs, softening her expression and taking a step closer towards him, “I know it’s not easy, I know none of this feels right”

“It… It’s too much” he repeats, “It… It’s just, it’s too much”

“I hear you” she tells him, knowing that he’s used to not being allowed to speak, let alone being listened to, “I know it’s a lot.”

“I can’t…” he says weakly, “Y/N/N, I don’t deserve any of this”

“C’mere” she says instantly, guiding him into a hug, “You… god, Buck— You deserve the world.”

He’s clinging to her back now, chain around his neck long forgotten.

His face is buried against her shoulder and all he can think about is how he doesn’t want anything other than her.

“We can put the clothes in the closet?” she suggests, “You don’t have to process all that today, not unless you want to.”

“I… I don’t think I can” he admits, “I- I can’t take things from him, doll, not- not after everything’-”

“Alright” she agrees, “Okay, we’ll put them away, and you can look at them when you’re more settled in”

That still involves accepting them, so she takes the small nod he offers as a major victory.

“For right now” she coos softly, “Why don’t you take a look around, huh? find somewhere to unload your bag.”

“Will you come with me?” he asks, voice muffled by the position he’s in, “Please?”

“Sure” Y/N agrees, smiling as she takes hold of his hand again, “Where do you want to start?”

They start in the entry way, because it’s where they’re standing.

Once Bucky has saciated his need to examine the door they’d come through, they head towards the mantel. He asks her if the fire is real, and she laughs, asking what he means by ‘real’-

“It’s a self-maintaining energy source that produces heat, without the flammability of conventional flames”

He stares at her, brow furrowed in confusion;

“When it’s turned on the imagery mimics a wood burning fire” she explains, “and it releases heat molecules to warm the room up, but because it’s man made it doesn’t catch like regular fire. It doesn’t spread or burn unless we tell it too, so we can leave it goin’ for longer and not worry ‘bout any accidents.”

“You, you made that?” he asks, awe slipping into his tone as he crouches, to stare directly at the glowing embers.

“Yeah” she chuckles, “I had a spare weekend, and it bothered me, y’know? having’ to keep lighting actual ones every time I wanted one going…”

“It even sounds real” he murmurs, listening to the muted crackling, “and the logs, they’re… they look so solid”

“Well” she says, almost flushing with pride, “No point in doin’ somethin’ if you’re not goin’ to do it right”

He laughs at that, turning to face her with a genuine grin on his face.

He’s amazed and it shows.

Y/N doesn’t think he could look any more beautiful if he tried.

“C’mon” she beams, “I’ll show you how to work it.”

There’s a hidden panel on the side of the ornate mantle. FRIDAY helpfully lets him know that controlling the systems are part of his security privileges, and by the time he’s finished fiddling with the buttons, he’s decided that having the sound effects 1% lower, whilst raising the heat by 12% is the way he likes it best. Y/N sets it as their new default, but reminds him that he can change it anytime he likes.

Next, they head into their little kitchenette. It’s quaint, and easy to navigate. After living in the safe house he’s familiar with microwaves and coffee machines and other than the small refrigerator unit and stove top there doesn’t seem to be anything else he’d need to master using.

Until the woman he’s with holds her hands over a panel on one of the counter top and a holographic book appears in the air. She chuckles at his intrigue and explains that she and Tony had been acquiring recipes for years— from restaurants and friends, from family and private chefs— so at some point the pair had decided to scan them all in and create their own cook-book. She flips through a couple of pages, demonstrating how easy it is to navigate, and reminds him that FRIDAY can find or translate anything he wants.

“You can have her add groceries to the list, too” she says offhandedly, “Delivery day is usually Tuesday but we can usually make stuff appear a little sooner if we need it.”

It’s mind blowing.

They go up a set of three small steps and open one oak door before reaching the ‘bed room’ portion of the suit.

It’s different to how he’d pictured it.

Really, the whole thing is different.

He’s seen a lot of fancy houses in the magazines that had gathered in the safe house. He’s seen a lot of marble, and sleek black furniture that, when paired with sparse surfaces seemed to be called ‘modernism’ and that is more what he’d envisioned whenever he’d pictured the home of the woman he loves.

Now he’s seen the reality, he can’t justify why he’d pictured her living somewhere that barren. This, is much more her, which is a welcome relief. Not one part of living in a place as sterile as the ones he’s seen pictured had appealed to him, really, even though he’d have done so happily for her.

The walls in this area are cream, but the built in storage is wood that’s been painted with a deep, dark navy that’s chipping off in places. The bed frame itself is the same dark wood that had accented the adjoining space, and there is clutter everywhere.

He sees a small arrangement of bronze trinkets, and a collection of books on one of the bedside tables, the other, however is bare aside from one vintage picture frame, which, he notices houses a picture of them. It’s of them from a couple of months back, when she’d gifted him a polaroid camera that he still carries everywhere he goes.

It’s on the right, because that’s the side of the bed he sleeps on. Because that’s where he has the best view of the door, and where he used to stand the best chance of escaping from, before someone came to hurt him.

Bucky realises that he’s been silent for a long time when he feels her thumb brushing over his knuckles.

He clings to her hand and tries to take it all in.

“The bathrooms through there” she says, nodding towards the only other door in the space, “Bath, shower, toilet and all that good stuff”

He nods, mouth suddenly very dry.

“How about I go get those clothes for the closet?” Y/N offers, “You can take a bit of time to get settled? Poke around a little.”

She sees him getting ready to object, so she decides to cut him off, kissing him before whispering out an “It’s your home too now, Buck” that seems to hit him awfully hard.

With a nod, and a final squeeze of her palm, he lets go, pawing at his eyes to try and force back the tears that are suddenly stinging behind them.

He’s in the bathroom when she comes back with his presents. She hides them in the side of the dresser she’s kept empty for him, only leaving out a pair of sweat pants and a long sleeve t-shirt that she thinks he might want to wear before bed. She lays those across the end of the bed and tops them with a pair of wool socks that she bought a few days before her last mission.

By the time she’s done, he’s back out in the main room, having slipped out whilst she was too preoccupied to notice.

She does however notice the pair of boots that have been placed by the entrance to the bathroom.

Her heart swells in her chest, and when she almost trips over his backpack, which has been left by the end of the bed, she almost starts crying herself.

He’s by the fire again, hovering by the worn leather couch— she’s about to call out a greeting but he turns to face her with an expression so captivated that she can’t quite get the words out;

“What’s this, doll?”

He’s asking about the large wicker basket that’s stuffed full of blankets. It’s by the armchair, close enough to both that, and the fire to make it easily accessible by everyone who might want to grab a quilt from inside.

“That?” she checks, closing the distance towards him, “That’s a basket full of blankets.”

Bucky hears himself gasp at her answer. A thick, teal cover slipping through his metal fingers as they continue to dip into it’s contents.

“Why?” is all he can think to ask,

“Because” Y/N answers calmly, “I wanted to make sure that nobody was ever going to be cold in here.”

“D-do I really get to stay here?”

Her head tilts. The waiver in his voice hitting her like a hard punch to the throat.

“Sweetheart” she whispers, seeing the emotion in his face, “Sweetheart of course you do.”

Before she can take another breath he’s in her arms. He’s throwing himself against her chest with enough urgency to wind her as she moves to hold him, too.

“Hey” she gasps, “Hey, it’s okay, you’re alright.”

Bucky forces himself to nod, because it’s all he can think to do.

“This is your home now” she tells him, “Yours, and mine, okay? nobodies goin’ to make you leave.”

and then, he’s crying.

Grateful, relieved, painful little sobs wracking up from his chest because he just can’t fathom trying to swallow them down.

This is so much more than he’d expected. This whole thing has hit him so much harder than he’d thought it would.

And he’s safe, and he’s finally, really, really safe, and he’s with Y/N, and she doesn’t have to go anywhere, because she’s already there, and he gets to stay. He gets to stay with her, he gets to have a home again, but this time, he gets to share it with the woman he loves, and that is all he’s wanted, since he remembers wanting anything at all.

and it’s real. It’s real and he’s crying because he just can’t stop.

“Bucky” she soothes, “Bucky, sweetheart, what’s the matter?”

“N-nothin” he gasps, “I- I’m… I just… I-”

Understanding floods her at once, and then, she’s smiling, pressing a kiss against the top of his head as she lets him come apart against her shoulder. As she lets him settle himself in the privacy her body can offer him.

“I love you too” she swears, waiting until he finally pulls away to dry his cheeks with her fingers, “I know comin’ here took a lot, and I know that it isn’t goin’ to magically make the past 80 years ago away, but I really do think that with time, when you’ve really settled in you’re goin’ to feel better”

“I already do” he tells her quietly, “This… this is already better”

“Good” she beams, “now, do you want to try out the shower? I’m sure you can figure out how it works without me-”

“If” he sniffs bravely, “If I say I can’t, does that mean you’ll show me?”

“That went great” Y/N says instantly, "Well done, Buck"

The praise washes over him like water, soothing the frayed edges of his soul like a balm.

He relishes in the soft swell of affection for a moment, nuzzling down into her embrace until he feels like he might be able to speak without his voice cracking;

“‘days not over yet, doll” he murmurs eventually, “’s only the afternoon— still plenty of time for me to ruin’ it”

“Don’t be ridiculous” she counters, “You’re here, with me— there’s no way you could ruin anything.”

He scoffs, holding onto her a little bit tighter.

Y/N can feel the way he’s clinging onto her waist with both of his hands, clutching onto her t-shirt like a child who’s afraid of being abandoned.

Her heart is aching, behind her ribs. He’s clearly trying to catch up with the reality of everything that’s just transpired, and she doesn’t really know if she can do anything to help.

Holding him seems to be doing something, at least.

So, she decides to just keep doing that, stroking circles across the back of his ribs.

“I can’t believe he went to the deli dressed like that” she murmurs, “I bet it makes the news.”

He smiles a little at that, small and hidden against her shoulder.

“He… he wasn’t wearin’ his dog tag”

That hurts.

It hurts more than she’d have expected it too.

“I asked him where it was” she tells him, “He says he lost it, y’know? In the ice”

That sounds reasonable, he’d been prepared for a similar answer, but, she doesn’t sound sure. There’s something about her tone, that makes him furrow his brow;

“You don’t think he did?”

“I might be wrong” she sighs, “but, I could’ve sworn I saw it in one of Peg’s old boxes”

It’s why I recognised yours so quickly, she thinks.

“If… If it was in Peggy’s stuff, maybe he did lose it, but she, she found it?”

“Maybe” Y/N agrees, “Or maybe I never saw it at all”

‘Excuse me, boss’ FRIDAY inserts politely, ‘But Bucky is right, I can confirm that when Captain Rodgers was first brought to SHEILD headquarters he was booked in, and his dog tag was noted along with his compass and original suit in the documentation regarding his personal belongings.’

That catches her attention, she tilts her head and hums,

“Was… was he awake when you brought him here?”

‘No’ FRIDAY replies, ‘He remained frozen until our medical officers felt confident in their ability to bring him round without complication’

“But he had it on him when he arrived?” Y/N cuts in, wanting to clarify, “Do you have any record about where it went?”

‘Yes, boss.’ the AI agrees, ‘And whilst there is no official mention of the article after that initial reference, I can use the archived security footage to speculate that Agent Carter may have retrieved it from him during one of her regular visits.’

Oh—

“Well there we go…” Y/N murmurs, stroking Bucky’s back again, “…mystery solved.”

“She…” Bucky says, clearing his throat, “… Y’think she took it?”

“Probably” she sighs, “she loved him, it’s not a stretch to think she’d want to try and keep a piece of him close, ‘specially… ‘specially when she realised that he probably wouldn’t be wakin’ up any time soon.”

Bucky thinks that’s awfully sad.

Sometimes he forgets how unfair fate was to Steve. He forgets that it wasn’t just him who lost everything in ice.

“I think we should get it back to him, don’t you?”

Y/N’s voice makes his head lift up, away from the crook of neck.

He’s starring at her, trying to read wether or not she’s being serious.

“You… you think we can?”

“Of course we can” she chuckles, stroking his cheek, “Baby, if Peggy kept it then it’s here— After she died a lot of her stuff was archived, y’know, for security— Tony and Sharon agreed that the tower was the best place for her personal belongings, since it’s real easy to protect, and, if I saw it before got scooped up, then I’d wager it’s still exactly where it was back then.”

“So” he murmurs, “We… We really could get it for him?”

“Sure” she says, “We can go grab it ourselves, or I can ask Tony or Nat to go and find it?”

His face shifts into something terribly conflicted. For a moment, she thinks that he might speak, but instead, he just ducks his head back down into her shoulder, burying his face against her like hiding might erase the burn of shame he’s experiencing because he just can’t volunteer himself to go and retrieve it himself.

It doesn’t.

Her arms wrapping back around across his body helps though.

So does the way she presses her lips against the top of his head, hushing him before she says,

“FRIDAY, can you message Natasha discretely for me? Do it in Russian so she knows it’s private— ask her to go down to the archives and use my override to get into the safe in room 12, tell her that I think the tag is somewhere between boxes 1-8 under one of Peg’s old dresses. When she’s got it, ask her to bring it up here, don’t let Rodgers see.”

‘Yes, boss’

“I- I’m sorry” she hears Bucky whisper, voice melting against her throat, “I just can’t-“

“It’s okay” she soothes, “Baby, it’s fine, Nat loves snoopin’ around down there, she’ll get it for us, and then you can double check, make sure it’s right before you give it to him.”

“Before-“ he gulps, “before I give it to him?”

“well, yeah” she says, smiling, “Sweetheart, unless you don’t want too?”

“I- I do” he blurts out urgently, “I-I just, thought maybe you-”

“No, baby” she murmurs, “I think it’ll mean more if it’s you.”

‘Ms Romanoff is on her way to the archives now, Boss— she asked me pass on a message to Bucky on her behalf’

“Oh?” Y/N scoffs, pressing another kiss against his head, “What message would that be?”

‘Dobro pozhalovat' domoy, serzhant’

Welcome Home, Sergeant.

That makes a smile bloom across her face.

The recorded greeting being laced with a genuine tone of kindness is enough to make her affection towards her old friend swell in her chest.

“She… Is, is that her voice?”

‘Yes, Bucky- I can relay messages to anybody you like.’

“Could you reply for me? could… could you tell her ‘Thank you, and I- I’m sorry, for— for fightin’ you, and for- for shootin’ you back… back in Japan.”

“Sure I will.”

“Sweetheart” Y/N says, “you know she’s not angry, don’t you?”

“It doesn’t matter” he counters weakly, “It doesn’t matter if she’s angry, doll, I— I’m still sorry.”

The silence that follows doesn’t last long, but it’s still long enough for his words to make Y/N’s chest ache again.

“C’mere” she purrs, settling herself back against the arm of the couch, guiding him up, so he’s back in position between her thighs, “Grab that blanket, baby, are you sure you’re not hungry?”

He lets one of his hands snake out so he can pull the covers out from underneath his legs, whispering out an “I- I can eat if… if you want me to?” as he passes it to her.

“It’s not up to me” Y/N says, arranging the quilt across his back, “what do you want?”

“…To stay here for awhile?…”

He means in her arms. He means against her chest, where he finally feels safe, and there isn’t a single thing in the world that could convince her to prise him away. Not with the way he’s looking at her, wide eyed and touch-starved.

“Then you can stay here awhile.” she tells him, one hand snaking up to cup his cheek, “You can stay right here for as long as you want”

“Excuse the interruption, but Miss Romanoff has sent a reply, Bucky, would you like to hear it now, or shall I store it for later playback?”

Bucky’s eyes widen for a moment, and he pushes back into Y/N’s hand as he gulps;

“Can I- Can I hear it now?”

‘Ofcourse—

Zabud' ob etom. Vy byli pervym chelovekom, kotoryy ustroil mne dostoynyy boy za desyat' let. My provedem match-revansh, kogda tebe stanet luchshe.’

Forget about it. You were the first person to give me a decent fight in a decade. We'll rematch when you're feeling better.

There’s a laugh in her tone that makes Y/N scoff, eyes rolling as her old friends voice floods the space.

“See?” she whispers, pressing a kiss against his lips, “Don’t worry about Nat”

His smile is tight and anxious, and she can tell he wants to hide again, so she reminds him that he doesn’t need to reply, and that is when he surrenders, nodding and retreating to her chest.

“We’ll eat later” she says, “You, you just get comfy, it’s been a hell of a mornin’…”

It has, it has been a hell of a morning.

“I love you” is the response he settles on, “I- I love you so much”

That makes her laugh, but it’s sweet, it’s happy and girlish, and he’s beaming into the skin of her throat.

“Baby boy” she coos, “I love you more.”

“’s not possible” he counters, because he can’t not, “doll, It… it’s like you hung the damn moon”

“We’ll argue it out another day” she whispers, feeling him sagging against her, “you’re exhausted.”

He is, he is exhausted, he’s emotionally drained and the heat from her body is drawing him in, making it easy for his breathing to synchronise with hers, deep, and slow.

His eyes are closed and her fingers are in his hair.

God, he feels like the luckiest man alive.

and then, he’s asleep again.

Y/N spends more time showering him in gentle touches, this time. She plays with the curls that are hanging loose across the back of his neck. She presses her lips against his brow and then finally drapes one arm across the back of waist so that she can pull up the STARK internship paperwork that she’d mentioned filling out earlier with the other.

In two hours, it’s early evening and she’s half way through the file.

In three, she’s still half way through, but now Natasha has let her know that she has the dog tag, and she can bring it up whenever.

Now might be the best time, she considers, whilst he’s sleeping— maybe we can avoid another introduction.

She relays her thoughts to FRIDAY who quietly, and politely agrees with her theory, and tells her that ‘Ms Romanoff will be with her in a few moments.’

It’s been just over five minutes when Natasha lets herself into Y/N’s suite.

Unlike Steve she’s used to dropping by, so, there isn’t any cause for her to stop to survey her surroundings.

That is, until she spots her best friend, curled up on her couch with the very same super-solider that had been deemed as ‘HYRDA’s most dangerous weapon’ passed out between her thighs.

That is definitely worth a double take.

Y/N’s eyes roll at the look on her face, and she uses her free hand to beckon her towards her,

“He’s sleeping—” she tells her helpfully, “— and thank you for finding it so quickly”

The dog tag is already in her outstretched palm. Natasha’s smile is curious more than anything else, so Y/N finds herself mirroring it, quirking a brow and murmuring out a “what?” that makes the other woman chuckle, quiet and tempered into the air between them;

“This isn’t just a hook-up is it?”

“No” she replies, “No, I don’t think it is.”

The red-head nods, and her face morphs into something only approving.

“You met him whilst you were away?” she checks, waiting for Y/N to nod before she continues, “So you’ve been, together, for awhile?”

“Yeah” Y/N agrees, “better part of 5 years.”

“Well” Nat sighs, “I hope he deserves you.”

“He does” she’s quick to tell her

“good” the other woman replies, “if you trust him, then that’s good enough for me, just let him know that if he breaks your heart then it won’t just be Tony he has to watch out for.”

That makes Y/N snort, childish and happy as she nods, curling her fingers through Bucky’s hair again.

“Speaking off” Natasha murmurs, “Is he okay? With this whole thing?”

“I think he’s more than okay” she says, “Honestly, I didn’t expect him to be so good about it, y’know? but he’s really gone out of his way to make this easy on us.”

“He can probably tell how happy you are” she replies, “and if somethin’ happens and you need me then-”

“I know you’ve got my back” Y/N swears, “You always have, Nat- ya tebya lyublyu”

I love you

A genuine smile blooms across the red-heads face. She’s beaming as she leans in to press a kiss on Y/N’s brow, and she’s still sporting the same grin when she starts towards the door.

“Do you think he’ll mind if I stop by tomorrow?”

“I don’t know” Y/N says honestly, “I doubt it? If he isn’t ready then I’ll slip out and catch you before training”

And then she’s gone, and Y/N finds herself tucking the dog tag into her pocket so that she can return her attention to the papers she’d been working on before.

Bucky doesn’t stir for another hour. By then she’s actually almost finished. She’s so focused on the task at hand that she only notices he’s awake when he moves, rolling onto his side so he can peer at the glowing hologram she’s typing on.

“Hey, love” she purrs, “Sorry, I thought I’d try and get this finished whilst you slept.”

“Don’t be sorry, doll” he replies, voice cracking with disuse, “Have I been out long?”

“3 hours, maybe 4?” Y/N answers, looking at the clock, “it’s about 8 now, Nat’s been and gone.”

That catches his attention, he paws at his eyes, and then at his chin, all whilst using his metal arm to support his weight so he can stare at her face.

“What?” she presses, typing the final sentence of her conclusion with impressive speed, “Did you want me to wake you?”

“No” he admits, “I- I just didn’t think she’d be able to find it so quick”

The papers are finished so Y/N hits submit, dismissing the screen with a flick of her wrist so that she can give him her full attention.

“It wasn’t hidden” she reminds him calmly, “Do you want to see it?”

His lip quirks as he nods.

She shifts her hips pulling the silver, age-stained trinket out of her pocket before letting the charm drop, so that its where he can reach out and grab it.

He does, turning it over in his flesh fingers as his eyes scan the engravings again and again.

“Is it the right thing?” she wonders, already suspecting from the look on his face that it is, “I’m pretty sure, but-”

“Yeah” he says, “Yeah, it- it’s right— can I give it to him now?”

It turns out, Bucky has cooked.

When Y/N turns up outside the safe house, hiding from the rain under the door frame, it’s already getting dark.

She knocks three times, and hears the chain being slid across a second before the door opens just wide enough, for her to see his face, smiling shyly in the crack.

“Hey, doll” he murmurs, ushering her inside;

She wastes no time in throwing her soaked leather jacket to the floor, pulling her hair down from the pony tail it’s been in for most of the afternoon.

When she looks up again, she sees him stood, watching her nervously from his position.

“Sweetheart” she coos, reaching over to hold his hands, “What’s that face for?”

The pout he’s wearing is blatant. He tries to mask it by faking a tight lipped smile.

Metal fingers curl around her own, he shifts a little, trying to coax her into a hug.

“Missed you today” is what he manages to whisper into her hair, when she finally takes the hint, and shuffles into his chest, “I…I made dinner, I-I’m not sure if it’s edible yet, but uh- I tried.”

Y/N can feel his heart hammering, his pulse is racing. She presses her lips against his throat, kissing it gently.

He gulps, eyes fluttering shut at the contact.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine” she tells him quietly, “and if it isn’t- we’ll order in”

He chuckles silently, nuzzling into her the best he can.

She can smell adrenaline on his skin, she can sense the anxiousness in his posture.

It’s heart wrenching.

“What’s the matter?” she murmurs, pulling back to consider him properly, “Huh, Buck? What’s gotten you so upset today?”

Her palms are hot on his cheeks now, even though he doesn’t remember letting them go.

“…I…” he begins, “I… just, I’ve missed you…”

That’s the same answer as the one he’d given her before, but it sounds different some how. It sounds sadder, and all she can think to do is lean up to kiss him.

He whimpers against her lips, holding her against him for as long as he can, earnestly relishing in the affection.

“‘m here now” she says, “‘m not goin’ anywhere, okay?”

Bucky feels himself nodding, brain still half in a daze from the contact.

The meal he’s made is edible.

It’s pasta, with a sauce he’d found the recipe for in the back of one of Y/N’s magazines.

They hadn’t had any double cream, so he’d used half and half, and he’d never heard of the cheese they’d suggested, so he’d left that out all together.

“It’s good” Y/N beams, “It’s really good, Buck”

He blushes down at her- she’s half in his lap, his arm is draped around her waist as he picks at his own plate with absolute disinterest.

It’s her he’s focused on, the weight of her is grounding, she’s warm and real and lovely.

He’d never eat again, if it meant she’d stay by his side.

She doesn’t want that, though, he knows she worries about him, so he feeds himself mechanically, whilst letting his gaze linger on her face.

The radio is playing a soft song he doesn’t recognise, and the hazy light that had been coming through the cracks in the blinds is gone completely, meaning its only the one, orange desk lamp illuminating the space.

Once the plates are washed and dried, and she’s back, curled up against his chest, she decides to broach the subject she’s been waiting to bring up;

“I spoke to Steve today”

He tenses a little, but his fingers continue trailing up, and down her arm.

“I should hope so, doll” he jokes, “since you’re livin’ with the guy”

“You know what I mean” she jests, shifting a little so they’re face to face, “I told you earlier, he read the file, and the letter.”

He sighs, letting his eyes close for a second as his brow falls against hers.

“He’s not upset with you” she tells him, “He knows it wasn’t your fault”

Bucky feels himself grimace. He wants to argue but knows rehashing everything would be pointless.

“and” Y/N continues, “I spoke to Tony- about you coming back with me.”

She watches him freeze. The shift in him is instant, even in the poor lighting.

He stammers out an “I can’t” before stealing his jaw, nostrils flaring as he sucks in deep breathes through his nose, to try and stop himself from hyperventilating.

“Bucky-”

“I-I-I, oh, oh god-”

“Stop” she insists, reaching up to stroke his cheeks, “please don’t panic”

He’s way past panicking.

He can barely think, anymore.

His lip quivers, he grits his teeth, and screws his eyes shut for a second, before he blinks them open, wide and petrified as he looks at her.

Her chest aches.

“….I can’t keep leavin’ you here, sweetheart…”

Her voice is almost a purr, her fingers are still tracing his face

“….and it’s safer, it’s so much safer at the tower…”

Bucky is still watching her like a wounded stray. He’s totally torn between wanting to cower in a corner, and wanting to hold her tighter, and beg her never to leave him alone again.

“…I promise, baby, it’ll be okay, everything’s alright-”

“-Y-you’re brother—and- and, Steve and, the- the others I- I don't think-”

“My brother” she soothes, her thumb brushing over his chin, “has a hot temper, but he gets it now, Buck and Steve, loves you, he just wants you safe-”

His head shakes a fraction, as if too fight off the temptation her words are breading in his core.

There isn’t anything he wants more than to believe that he could stand a chance at being safe, and happy with her, without having to dread the moment she has to go, and leave him alone in world he barely understands.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me this is working for you.”

Her voice snaps him back to reality, the room that’s so familiar seems to melt away, and suddenly, all Bucky can see is Y/N, the woman he loves so desperately.

He wants to assure her that he’s okay. That he’s coping on his own, with her visiting whenever they have time.

He thinks, she’d be proud of him, if that was true, and that’s all he wants, but it’s not, it’s not true at all, so the words won’t come. He just blinks at her, and feels tears filling his eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart-” Y/N soothes, seeing his devastation increasing so rapidly, “-You’re alright-”

“I’m sorry” he whispers, voice cracking, “I-I’m s-sorry”

Her head shakes, she guides him in for a hug, letting her hands slip around to his back a split second before it starts to heave.

It’s almost instant, Bucky suddenly feels like a such disappointment- Being unable to convince her of his well-being has made him so hyper aware of his real, glaring fear that she’s going to see him the way he sees himself, as something that’s broken, that’s been used and discarded.

He really is sorry. He feels like such a burden that he can take it, he tries to apologise again, but he knows he’s not actually speaking out-loud.

That only intensifies his need to plead for forgiveness, his mouth is bone dry- the plates in his arms fold down with metallic grating, moan.

“You haven’t done anythin’ wrong” Y/N tells him, knowing he needs to hear it, “You don’t have to be sorry, baby, I promise, it’s okay-”

He starts to sob, burying his nose in her neck, clinging to her shirt like a child.

She’s telling him it’s okay. The idea of her abandoning him is intolerable. She’s the only thing making it anywhere close to okay.

“I know your scared-”

“I-I don’t-I-I can’t be on m-my own a-anymore-I- I- I can’t- it-it’s-too, too much-don’t- god, please-doll, p-please don’t leave me-”

The confession and request come quickly, before he can swallow them down-

It sickens him to hear it, to hear himself gushing like that, along side fractured whimpers.

“I know it’s too much” Y/N agrees, still stroking across the back of his ribs, “I know it is, I’m not goin’ anywhere, I promise, take some deep breathes for me, okay? I’m not leaving you here, again.”

He clutches her tighter. Nodding to try and convince himself that she means what she’s saying.

She won’t leave me, She won’t leave me, She won’t leave me, She won’t leave me.

Those words loop around his head like a prayer, they fight against the bitter sting of fear that’s made it’s home in his chest.

His lungs hurt, he’s gasping and choking on air, but she’s asked him to try and breathe deeply, and so he does, he does his best not to splutter too much on the exhale.

“I love you” he cries, needing her to know, “I -l-love you, I- I’m sorry-I- I’m sorry I’m like this- I-I’m tryin’- I’m tryin’ to b-breathe-”

Her head shakes, she hushes him and tells him that she loves him too, that she knows how hard it is for him, right now.

“I-I’ll try- w- with you” he stammers, “I-I’ll do-what-whatever you want”

Her lips meet his tearstained cheek. She shakes her head again.

“We’ll talk about it when you’re feelin’ better” she murmurs, “We have options, it’s not just my choice”

Bucky sniffs bravely, pulling back from the safe space he’s found in the crook of Y/N’s neck.

His eyes are blood-shot, lashes wet, a tear rolls off his nose, even more stream down his cheeks in uneven rivets.

“Hey, handsome” she coos, running her hands across from the nape of his neck, so that she can start to clean his face with her palms, “shall we get you some water?”

The shake of his head is slow, he sniffles again, gulping.

“I…I- love you”

Even with the waiver in his voice, Y/N can’t help but smile as leans in, kissing his brow.

It’s warm, he leans into the contact.

“I love you too” she promises, using her sleeve to swipe under his eyes, “That’s why, I think we should talk about this another time.”

He shakes his head, and she can’t help but sigh.

Despite his emotional condition she knows he’s too stubborn to leave this undecided, she knows he won’t settle until they’ve gotten a plan in place.

She can’t blame him really, anxiety is something he has enough of already, without any unanswered questions nagging at his mind.

“‘m not gonna’- gonna- feel any better-‘bout it tomorrow- it-it’s always- it’s always gonna make-make me-“

“Alright” Y/N concedes, “Alright, let’s talk options.”

He nods, taking deliberately controlled breathes.

“I’m not leaving here on your own anymore-” she tells him, “- so, that’s off the table”

A tear falls from his lashes as he blinks. The urge to apologise again is almost intolerable, he feels totally responsible for their having to be options at all.

“I can move back in here” Y/N adds next, “or, we could find our own place, somewhere new-”

Instantly, he shakes his head again;

“I- I can’t take- take you away from your brother like-like that- I- can’t be the reason he loses y-you too-”

“I’m a grown woman” she replies calmly, “and he’s not losing me, just because I stop living in the same house, just like you don’t lose me, when I’m not spending the night.”

She leans in, her palms drift down to his jaw and she rubs her nose against his, knowing he needs the affection to stay grounded.

He does need it. He feels his fingers furling against her hips, even though he doesn’t remember placing them there.

“I-I don’t-I don’t want you to m-move for me” he whispers, “I k-know you work from the labs there- I-I know- how important it- it is for you to be there”

“You-” she says,”-are important to me.”

He feels his cheeks prickling, he’s sure that if he wasn’t already flushed, he’d be blushing.

“I’m just scared- Y/N/N-“ he hears himself say, “-I know it-it makes sense, me- me comin’ back with you, but- there- there are so many people, there-and I- I- did- I did so many things the-they all-”

“Every single person in that building knows you didn’t mean to do anything.”

Bucky's gaze drops again, he looks small, she thinks, he looks lost and vulnerable.

She swipes her thumbs up over his cheek bones, trying to coax it back to her;

“I didn’t mean too” he agrees quietly, before blinking back at her, “but I did, I did do it, Y/N- I- I killed all those people, y-youre parents and-I-I- shot Natasha, and I- I made Steve-“

“Stop”

He does stop. His words die in his throat.

“It wasn’t your fault, sweetheart” she soothes, feeling his neck start to droop, “I know it hurts, I know it feels like it was, but I promise you- it wasn’t.”

She takes his silence as a victory.

“Is Tony, who you’re most worried about?”

Surprisingly, she believes him, when he whispers out a “No”

“‘m not worried ‘bout him” he continues, “he, he can hate me all h-he want’s I-I don’t- don’t blame him, a-and I- I-I think if he w-wanted me dead- he’d have killed me already-”

“he doesn’t want you dead”

“He should.”

“Well” she sighs, “he doesn’t, and it wouldn’t matter, even if he did, because contrary to popular belief, he doesn’t get everything he wants.”

Bucky forces a tight lipped smile, and feels his head throbbing.

“Baby, what is it that’s gotten you so worked up about this? Yesterday, you said you just wanted Steve to be sure about you comin’ in”

“I know” he agrees, guilty again, “I just-I- I didn’t know h-how-I-I’d feel w-when I- when I knew he’d read th-that file”

“I did tell ya’ that awful was probably the most likely”

That makes him scoff, sad but agreeing.

She had warned him, she’d sat with him and explained how terrible it was going to be for him to know that his oldest friend knew the details in those papers, even if they were far from comprehensive.

“and the letter could’ve been less emotive”

He actually manages to roll his eyes at that, which makes a small smile creep across her lips.

“Y-you said he was okay?”

“He’s fine” she affirms, “He’s worried about you, Buck- that’s all- he just wants to know you’re alright”

“He wants to see me” he counters, “that’s why he’s been’ makin’ Romanoff help him track me for the past 4 months”

“Well, I think he’d like to see you, yes” she agrees, “but he’s promised to be patient, I could smuggle you into the room and I’d trust him to stay away-”

“That’d be cruel- kids got no self control, he’d go mad tryin’ to keep that promise”

There’s a jovial lilt to his voice that she loves, she pecks a kiss to his cheek, and is pleased to feel that they’re not nearly as hot as they were a few moments before.

“Then you let him see you” she suggests, “he knows you need space, I really think once he sees you, Buck- When he realises you’re alright, he’ll be better about not bein’ so mother-hen-”

“You don’t know him like I do” he says, “He’s real loyal-he’s- he feels so responsible-“

“You’re both as bad as each other”

He looks at her, considerate, but quiet.

“I don’t know where you both got this obsession with holdin’ yourselves’ accountable for things’ you had no control over- Nothing that happened after you fell was your fault, and I don’t even know where to start on his feelin’ guilty’ bout it all”

Y/N runs a hand through her hair, when she’s finished speaking. She returns it to it’s previous spot agains’t cheek. He turns to kiss at her fingers.

She curls her thumb over his lips, letting him nuzzle into her wrist.

“I’ll- I’ll try- I’ll try it out”

Her head tilts when she catches his words.

“I- I’ll try, at the tower, doll but- but if it’s too much-”

“then we’ll figure somethin’ else out.”

“Together?”

“Together.”

The promise she makes comes easy. It’s clear he’s been drained by the entire interaction. The hollows under his eyes are dark, and deeper than they’ve been in a while.

“Baby, did you sleep at all last night?”

He squints at her, before shaking his head, nose tickling her palm.

Her brow furrows, concern shining behind the brown eyes she shares with her brother.

She knows he didn’t get more than a few hours the day before; when she thinks back, that must mean it’s been at least a week since he’s gotten a decent nights rest.

“Well that makes our next decision a hell of a lot easier than the last one”

He looks at her, expression muddled.

“We’re gettin’ an early night”

Y/N isn’t sure wether it’s relief or reluctance that creeps onto his face, but with his hair hanging half in front of his eyes, it’s hard for her to tell.

So, she cards it back, rubbing his temple with her thumb.

“You’re exhausted” she notes quietly, “we’ve eaten, we’ve cleaned up, there isn’t anythin’ else we need to talk about, other than how much better you’re gettin’ a cookin’”

He scoffs again, and reaches up to tangle their fingers together.

The pair manage to sleep relatively well. Bucky drifts off quickly, and even though his unconsciousness is very, very fragile, when he does startle himself awake during the night, he finds Y/N’s arms still looped around him, and he’s able to bury his face against her chest, and lull himself back to sleep.

When morning finally comes, it’s her who wakes first, stretching and yawning and running her hands through her lovers hair to soothe him when he starts to come round, too.

“Hi, handsome” she whispers, letting him nudge her jaw with his nose in greeting, “Sleep well?”

Not really, Bucky thinks grimly, fighting back against the lingering, nightmarish visions still burning behind his eyes, But I slept, so I guess that’s something.

Y/N knows what his silence means. She draws him in a fraction closer, bringing her lips to his brow.

His metal arm lets out a low moan, polished fingers furling against her hip bone.

“How do you wanna do this, doll?”

She quirks a brow, letting him move up to peer at her with tired eyes.

“Today” he clarifies, “The move”

Bucky watches curiously as she smiles at him, letting her fingers roll along his jaw, down, so that they can tickle his neck, too.

“However you want, Buck”

Her voice is like honey. It’s thick, and sweet, and he’d drown in it, if he could.

“I want it over with…” he says, harsher than he’d intended.

Y/N chuckles at that, light and airy.

“That’s fair” she allows, playing with his hair, “Want me to call Steve? or Tony, maybe… Tony could make up some excuse, get rid of him for a couple of hours?”

Bucky’s lip purses, he shuts his eyes for a minute, and considers wether or not orchestrating an event to remove his oldest friend from the building might be a step too far.

“You… You think he’d buy it?”

“I don’t think it matters-” she says, calm “-if SHEILD call him in for something, he has to go check it out”

“You didn’t mention anythin’ about SHEILD”

“My brother has some pull with head-office” she reminds him, “It’s the easiest way to clear everyone who’s not staff out of the tower”

He looks unhappy for a moment, but then his expression shifts to considerate.

Eventually, after a few deep breathes, he nods.

“Do… Do I get my own room?” he asks, voice almost jovial-

Y/N laughs, already on her mobile.

“Sure you do, Barnes” she tells him, “It’s bein’ made up as we speak, we settled on blue for the decor”

She lowers her phone, expecting to see some kind of smile on his face.

Maybe those genuine expectations are why the look of pure horror catches her so off guard.

“Hey-” she bursts, “-Hey— What’s the matter?”

The device she’d been clutching lies forgotten by her legs, as she reaches over to stroke his cheeks with both of her hands.

Silently, Bucky reaches up, so that he can bring one set of her knuckles to his lips. He presses a kiss against her thumb, and hopes she can’t feel the way his jaw is quaking.

“You want a different colour?” she presses, aiming for humorous, “Or-”

He shakes his head, drawing in a breath through his nose.

“..I… I thought we… we’d be staying together…”

There isn’t a question in his voice. He’s not asking for clarification. He’s already settled on his conclusion and that is what she thinks is the most upsetting.

“Do you really believe I’d just leave you on your own like that?”

Blue eyes widen, he clutches her hand a little tighter as he stares at her, and then he shakes his head.

“No” he confesses, voice breaking now, “No, but if-”

“You have your own room for if you want it” Y/N explains, “It’s there for you if you want your own space, but nobody— Not a single person is going to take me away from you, okay?”

She knows what he fears. He’s told her. He’s spent a long time telling her all the horrible ways he’s been kept over the years, and she’s long since realised that isolation is what scares him most.

Her assurance settles him. He nods, and kissers her hand before lowering it back to the sheets.

“Will…” Bucky makes himself ask, “…Will we be going to your room, then?”

He wants details, she realises, He wants to know exactly what’s going to happen.

That’s fair. That’s more than fair, really.

“When we have a time” she begins, tone deliberately calm, “Then we’ll get started here, Buck… We’ll grab whatever you want to bring and we’ll take my car back to the tower…”

He’s watching her, clearly hanging on her every word.

“…then…” she continues, “…then we’ll park in lower garage and take the elevator up to the main block—“

“Main block?”

The genuine intrigue in his voice makes her smile, she brings his hand to her lips this time, kissing the cool metal as she nods.

“The main block” he hears her confirm, “There are a couple of out-buildings, Buck… Trainin’ areas, workshops, guest houses, bits like that”

He’s awestruck, but he just nods, waiting for her to continue reciting their plan for the day;

“So” Y/N sighs, “Once we’re inside, we’ll head straight up to our suite”

“Our” he cuts in again, the word feeling foreign on his tongue, “Our?”

That is definitely a question.

“Well, yeah” she beams, “If we’re goin’ to share, then that makes it ours, doesn’t it?”

He lets out a disbelieving scoff, the hand he’s not clinging to hers with going up to scratch at his jaw.

“…And once we’re in there…” Y/N says, “…then we can do whatever you want, Buck… We have all the toys, and a kitchen, and a bathroom with a proper tub…”

“And Steve?”

“When he comes home?…” she checks, waiting for his nod before continuing, “…We’ll be in our room by then, won’t we?”

He nods again, watching her.

“So, I think that answer falls under ‘we can do whatever you want’-” she replies, “-As soon as we get inside our door is going to lock, the only people gettin’ in are people we let in so whatever happens is totally up to you”

He pauses then, mid breath as his brow furrows with consideration.

“Do…” he gulps, “…Do we have to tell him I’m there?”

“No” Y/N allows, “But he’s not stupid, Buck, after a couple of days he’s bound to figure it out and I think it might be a little bit kinder not to drag it out too long…“

Again, his expression shifts to something awfully thoughtful. This time, she can’t help but reach over to stroke his hair back, away from his eyes.

Her phone buzzes, but she ignores it. Relishing instead, in the way he’s pushing back against her touch.

“We… We have to tell him today”

The certainty in his tone is oddly familiar. She knows what it sounds like when he’s set on something, when his minds been made up. Trying to talk him out of whatever it is, is a waste of energy. She’s curious though, about how he’d come to his decision;

“Why?”

Bucky blinks at her, looking resigned.

“It’s like you said, doll…” he sighs, “…He’ll find out anyway, in a couple’of days, and then… then if he knows that I hid from him he’s only going’ to feel guilty— like I… like I don’t trust him and I—” he runs a hand through his hair, “—I do.”

That makes sense. She nods.

“If I tell him I need space, do you really think he’ll back off?”

“Do you?” she challenges, knowing that’s what really matters.

After another momentary pause, he inhales, squeezing her fingers again.

“Yeah” he whispers, “Yeah, I— I trust him.”

With an approving smile, Y/N nods again, releasing his hand so that she can grab her cell phone that has been vibrating unhappily by her knee.

Bucky watches her curiously as she unlocks it, reading whatever is on her screen. He’s about to ask when she laughs, rolling her eyes and slipping it back onto the nightstand.

“Tony already had it covered” she tells him, “He says he scheduled everyone including himself in for a full morning of charity gigs— y’know? meet and greets, photo opps with kids, that kinda thing— he, uh, thought about using his connections with SHEILD but didn’t think you’d like the idea of gettin’ them involved, so he went with this instead…”

Bucky’s jaw drops.

“Smart, really—” Y/N continues, “—Captain America can’t bail on things like that, not with press swarmin’ around”

The man is still staring at her, lamely trying to wrap his head around the idea that her brother has had the forethought to arrange something like this for him. For his benefit, for the benefit of the man that killed his parents—

“So” her calm voice drawls, “We have ‘till three to get settled. That’s plenty of time, love.”

He forces a smile, but Y/N can see that he’s not quite present.

“Do you want to get breakfast?” she presses, trying to coax him back to her, to the present, where she can kiss his cheek, “or—”

Bucky’s head shakes slowly. He tries to think of anything other than the sound of Howard Stark begging for his life.

“Can we go now?” he asks, suddenly needing to move, “Can… Can we just… go?”

“Hey…” Y/N soothes, sitting up to kiss at his cheek, “Sure we can, but, just— breathe for me, love, look at me”

He does, blue eyes blink to hers, and she watches tears fill them.

“I’m sorry” he whispers, “I’m so, so sorry”

And just like that, she knows he’s not apologising for anything he’s done recently. In her opinion, he’s not apologising for anything he has ever done.

Still, she knows that’s a pointless road to go down right now, so, she nods, and kisses him again.

“…I know…I know you are” he hears her swear, “…It’s okay…”

“I didn’t mean too” he sniffs, “I…”

“I know” she says again, “Sweetheart, I know you didn’t”

He looks so desperate, that for a second she reconsiders all of this. Maybe he’d be better off right here, with her, away from Tony, and Steve and Natasha and any other reminder of a past he should never have had to live through… But then, he blinks, ducking his head and sniffing back tears, as his free hand comes up to tug at the dog tag that he hasn’t taken off since she’d given it to him, and she knows they have to try.

“Bucky” she whispers, “I love you— I know this isn’t easy, but you’ve gotta hear me when I tell you that I wouldn’t put you in danger”

“I know” he agrees weakly, “I know, and I… I love you too, doll— I… I really do, and I trust you, I- I just, I feel so bad… like everythin’ that happened was because I wasn’t strong enough to stop it and I- I don’t want to wait too long now and freak out, I- I just want to get movin’…”

That makes a whole lot of sense, so she nods, pressing a final kiss against his cheek before straightening up a fraction and suggesting that they get started on packing.

He doesn’t want to bring much, and most of her belongings are already at the tower.

It’s sad really, how everything he owns fits into a backpack.

Y/N does try and convince him to bring any trinkets he’s grown attached too, any books or maybe some of the clothes they’ve stocked into the closets, but, he declines, confessing that he’s barely touched anything outside of the kitchen, including the wardrobe.

“I don’t need much” he says, baseball cap firmly in place, “I don’t think I’ve ever kept clutter”

She rolls her eyes, holding onto his gloved hand as they start to towards the door.

“Lucky for you I have plenty” she scoffs, “we’ll have to order you some proper clothes though, Buck, that henley is older than me.”

“I’m older than you”

She laughs at his rebuttal, and he cracks his first real smile of the morning.

He manages to keep it well into their journey. The pair chatter about nothing. About the cost of sweaters and the way her brother dresses sometimes.

It’s only when they pull up outside the towers back gates that his expression turns dower.

There’s a concerned crease between his brow, and his eyes are flicking around their new surroundings in an obvious act of surveillance.

Y/N doesn’t comment on the shift, she just holds his hand as the door to the internal garage opens, and the car slows to a crawl in it’s usual space.

“What’s your threat level, huh?”

She’d started asking him that years ago. When she’d needed to try and find a way of letting a terrified solider let her know how scared he was, without having to say it out-right.

He finds it just as comforting now, which is probably why they still use the system so often.

“6” is the answer Bucky settles on after a beat of consideration.

“Want to take a minute?” she offers, “they others are out, they won’t be back ‘till much later on.”

“Maybe?” he says, “Could… could I take a look around?”

He wants to familiarise himself with his new environment. To scan it for any threats that might’ve once been lurking in the shadows.

“Sure” she agrees, opening her own car door, “You can look wherever you want”

He doesn’t venture far. He just circles the room, stopping every few paces to examine something he’s decided might be important.

This isn’t new behaviour. He’s been this way ever since she’d first met him, and she’s long since abandoned trying to decipher how much of this overly cautious attitude was there before HYDRA trained it into him.

There must’ve been something there before. Some small spark of nervousness that has only been heightened by the trauma of his experiences.

Maybe I’ll ask Steve, she muses dryly, I’m sure he’d love to tell me all about how he was when they were younger.

“Is… is there somethin’ below us, doll?” Bucky asks growing still at Y/N’s side,

“Yeah, sweetheart” she answers, “It’s just storage— it’s full of Tony’s scraps.”

Bucky nods, seemingly satisfied.

“4” is what he says, reaching out for her hand, “Is there a security system?”

That makes her laugh, a real, untempered laugh bursting through her lips as they head towards the entrance.

“FRIDAY— This is Bucky”

His eyes narrow, with confusion, and then, they widen as a gentle glow of blue flutters across his vision.

“Nice to meet you Sargent Barnes— I am FRIDAY”

“8” he bursts, fingers tightening around her own as a sudden flush of panic tightens around his chest, “8”

“Hey” Y/N soothes, realising that this display might be more than a little bit jarring, “Hey, it’s okay— she’s the security system, she’s our AI, it’s alright”

He blinks 3 times fast, trying to keep his breathing steady.

“I’ve been informed by your brother that he is to be given full family access, is that still applicable?”

“Wh-what does she… what does she mean?”

“She means-” Y/N exhales, “-That Tony told her that you were coming”

That seems to settle him for a beat. He slips back into silence and she can’t help but lean in and press a kiss against his cheek.

“Is… Is she real?”

Her head quirks at that, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Why don’t you ask her?”

“She… she can hear me?” he asks, “All the time?”

“Not exactly, Sargent Barnes— I can only hear you when I’m listening. Daily conversations are filtered by the lower levels of my programming so that I don’t intercept private information.”

“My… My name is Bucky” he says, eyes looking up and around at the ceiling, “Are… are you a real person?”

“No, Bucky. I am a type of Artificial Intelligence programmed by the Starks to manage the various systems that are integrated throughout their homes and technology.”

“So, you’re… you’re a computer?”

“If that makes it easier for you to understand” she allows, “but not really.”

Y/N laughs again, and squeezes his hand.

“She has a personality, and independent thought. We coded her, but it’s not as simple as her just being a computer.”

“Like Vision?” he asks, trying to make sense of the bizarity of the situation, “You told me about him”

“Kind of” she agrees, “He started off as JARVIS, who handled things before FRIDAY, but he’s got a physical body, now, and a little extra kick from the stone.”

“So” Bucky exhales, “She’s runs the security?”

“She runs everything” Y/N says proudly, “We have tones of security protocols, Buck- Force fields, DNA walls, facial recognition and genetic detectors - It’d be impossible to have all of those monitored by staff 24/7, so FRIDAY oversees them, checks them for bugs or abnormalities.”

“Can I see?” he asks suddenly, “Not right now- but, but one day, I- I’d really like to see how it all works.”

Her heart swells in her chest as she sees the genuine spark of interest behind his eyes.

It’s so sweet, seeing him letting himself admit to his curiosity that she can’t help but kiss him again.

“Sure” she promises, “Sure you can, as soon as we get settled, I’ll pull up all the screens with you, give you a guided tour, okay?”

“That sounds nice” he muses, “I… I always liked tech, ever since I was a kid I… I used to think it was magic, I always said if I’d’ve been able to go to school it would’ve been for somethin’ like that”

“Look at you” she teases, “Beauty and brains.”

He scoffs, eyes rolling as she inches in towards him;

“Still at an 8?” she murmurs, lips ghosting his jaw.

“5” he alters, leaning down in an attempt to garner another kiss.

She obliges, not pulling away until she’s confident that his calm facade is almost genuine.

“Ready to head inside?” she checks, looking at the door, “It’s a straight shot up the stairs, or we can take the elevator.”

They don’t.

Bucky asks if she’d mind walking, and the way he’s still gripping her hand makes her answer real simple.

They go slow. Y/N is more than happy to let him peer out of the windows and let his free fingers graze the polished banisters.

She catches him starring at the view from the seventh floor with a strange amount of longing, and that’s when she decides to break the silence they’d been settled in.

“You can see the fields” she notes, over his shoulder, “and there—” she points, “That lake? is great for fishing”

“Steve likes it there?” he checks, “You told me he spent all weekend there last month”

“Yeah” she confirms, “He tried to put a tent together, but I asked FRIDAY and she told me that he couldn’t quite manage it”

Bucky scoffs at that, leaning into her side a little more obviously.

“How far does the forcefield go?”

“We have 3 layers” she answers, “Zone X, Y and Z— Z is the inner ring, X is the outer.”

He nods, face considerate.

“FRIDAY, can you light them up for a second, please?”

“Sure thing, boss”

“You can only really see the nearest one from here” Y/N tells him, “the other two go out too far— the furthest is a couple of miles over the gate line.”

The soft blue dome is beautiful. It’s shimmering like water as it disappears into the sky, and then, into the trees that are lining the horizon line that’s visible from the window.

“That’s incredible” he says, genuinely meaning it, “How… How does it work?”

“God” she chuckles, “I suppose me just sayin’ that it ‘just does’ isn’t goin’ to cut it, huh?”

He smiles, turning to face her properly.

“It’s energy based, sweetheart, self-fuelled by the arc reactor technology that keeps the rest of the building running”

“Energy based?” he parrots, clearly keening for more detail, “So it’s not physical?”

“It’s a meta-physical barrier” Y/N allows, “but if it deems any other energy signatures to be a problem the pro-tons knit together in whatever arrangement is needed to repel them”

“So” he starts, “It reads other types of energy and if it thinks it’s a threat then it can change itself to get rid of it?”

“Basically” she agrees, “It’s why birds don’t fry themselves by getting too close, why we could drive up and in, why Tony can take off and land and why Steve’s shield could make it out to hit a goon that wouldn’t stand a chance at touching it”

The look of awe on his face takes her off guard.

It dawns on her that maybe she’s so used to all of these impossible things that it’s easy for her to forget how unusual they are to everyone else.

“and that’s just one facet of the security systems” FRIDAY announces suddenly, “you are safe here, Sargent Barnes.”

Y/N is still laughing when they reach the bathroom, and they’re both grinning by the time they’ve finished washing up.

Despite Bucky’s poor attempt at denial, she catches the way he lingers under the pressurised spray of water, and makes a mental note to get it upgraded to one that is more customisable.

She mentions the idea to him in the bedroom and he scoffs, telling him that even if she’d given him a hundred years he’d have never thought about making a customisable shower head. She laughs and says that there must be some kind of stupid thing that he’s always wanted.

‘I can’t think of anythin’ like that’ he tells her

When she asks him for his top ten favourite luxuries in general he rolls his eyes, towel wrapped around his waist and replies that he’s looking at them right now.

“I’m not a luxury, Barnes” she mock scolds, turning to grab herself some clean clothes from her dresser, “and I’m serious— if you could invent any 10, ridiculous, unnecessary, frivolous things, what would they be?”

“Oh, god, doll— I don’t know.”

She just laughs again, and gestures towards the clothes she’d laid out for him earlier.

“Well, why don’t you ponder it for awhile and let me know when you have some ideas.”

He scoffs, and dresses himself without further rebuttal, only pausing to relish in the way that it feels to have soft, clean clothes to put on for a change.

The socks nearly make him cry again, but instead, he finds himself tugging at his dog tag and waiting longingly for Y/N to turn back towards him.

It isn’t a long wait.

She’s ready in no time, spinning on her heals to beam at him, as she reaches out to hold his hand.

As the pair walk back out towards the living-room, Bucky makes a detour to the wicker basket, grabbing the same blue quilt he’d been fussing with earlier before leading Y/N back to the couch.

They curl up together, and when his head settles neatly into the curve of her chest, he realises that it feels strangely like he’s taking his first real breath of the day.

“Wanna watch some TV?” Y/N offers, “Maybe take a nap before lunch?”

He makes a soft noise of consideration, snuggling down impossibly further into her front.

This is his favourite way to sleep.

Between her thighs, with her arms around him, with his whole body pressed against hers.

“What do you feel like eatin’, doll?”

His voice is tired. She thinks that he’ll probably doze off before long, regardless of her answer.

“I’m not sure” she replies honestly, “haven’t really thought about it, how about you?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re havin” he mumbles, pressing a lazy kiss against her arm, “Do we have anythin’ here?”

“Sure we do” she replies, “I normally use the main kitchen, y’know, downstairs, but we have some bits knockin’ around.”

“Or…” he begins, “we could always ask Steve to pick us somethin’ up?”

That takes her by surprise. Genuine surprise, that makes her blink down at him dumbly for a moment as she wonders if she’s misheard him.

“We could” she allows after a beat, “but then he’ll want to bring it.”

“We were goin’ to let him see me today” Bucky reminds her, “and I… I figured this way it… it might be less awkward than him just bein’ told to come by and wave.”

“Alright” she chuckles, “Fair point, but it’s up to you, sweetheart— this whole thing with Rodgers, it's all you.”

He nods, brow furrowing in thought

“If you called him now do you think he would answer?”

“If I call him?” she says with a scoff, “yeah, Buck I think he would.”

He nods again.

“It’s one” she notes, “If I spoke to him now and asked him to swing by a bodega or somethin’ on his way back you’d have time to nap or change your mind before he gets here.”

“Okay” he agrees, “and if I do— If I do change my mind, then-”

“Then I suppose I could meet him at the door, tell him you’ve passed out on the bed and ask him to come back later.”

“You’d do that?”

“Sure I would” she says, “but, this is all hypothetical, because we don’t have to ask him to bring us anything, we could always just order a delivery if you want take out that badly.”

His eyes roll just before he buries his face back against her chest.

“Can you call him, doll?” he asks quietly, “I think this is goin’ to be the way that gets me the least worked up.”

“Okay” she allows, “What shall I ask him to grab?”

“Whatever you want, doll”

That’s clearly one decision too many. She can feel the tension creeping back into his shoulders, so, she nods quickly, pressing a kiss against his brow.

“There’s a nice deli not far from where he is, you still like cheese-steaks?”

He nods silently, tightening his arms around her waist as she asks FRIDAY to make the call.

“Do you want me to take it on my cell?” she offers, “Or is speaker alright.”

“Speakers fine” he murmurs, “I’m goin’ to see him soon, no point hidin’ from his voice.”

Y/N scoffs at that, stroking a gentle circle across his back as she waits for the other man to connect.

“Hello?” Steve says, anxiety clear in his tone, “Y/N, are you okay?”

Bucky can’t help but smile as the woman he’s laying on chuckles.

“Sure I am, Steve” she replies, ever calm, “I’m fine, just wonderin’ if you could do me a favour whilst you’re out.”

“Anything-” he bursts, eager to accept, “Whatever you need.”

Bucky mouths an almost inaudible ‘Jesus Christ’ at the man’s desire to please her, and she rewards him with a smile and a playful swat against his hip.

“Can” she begins, swallowing laughter as he nestles down, kissing any part of body that he can reach, “Can you just, stop by the deli on 25th? grab a couple of the cheese-steaks.”

The silence on the other end of the line is telling. It lasts a fraction too long to be natural and Bucky can’t help but push himself up a little so that she can see the quirk in his brow.

Y/N’s hand is against his cheek before he can get too nervous about having over-stepped with his request. He’s still keening out towards her fingers when Steve finally clears his throat;

“I— Sure I can, are… where, where do you want me to bring them?”

“To my room?” she replies, “I’m back at the tower now, didn’t think about making a pit stop on the way”

“You’re home?” he asks quickly, “Are… are you alone?”

She meets Bucky’s eyes for a moment, genuinely curious about whether or not he’s going to speak. He gives her a small smile, before looking away, and that’s when she’s sure that he’s not.

“No” she admits, “Not, right now.”

The laugh Steve gives her is breathless, it’s so genuinely elated that Barnes is blushing when he hears it.

“So, he— is- is Bucky, is he there?”

“Steve” she warns, “Remember our little talk about patience?”

“Yeah” he says lightly, “Yeah, I do— but, but when I bring them back can— can I say hi?”

“—that depends—” Bucky’s tired voice inserts, “—are you goin’ to start bawlin’ or somethin’—”

Y/N is stunned. Truly, utterly, stunned.

and if the choked sound Steve makes is anything to go by, so is he.

“Bucky?” he asks after a moment, “Buck is it—”

“You know it is” he replies, confidence waining a little now that the interaction is real, “Y/N/N told you I was comin’ “

and then he’s back to laughing, the same disbelieving laughter that has almost become his trademark lately.

“I, god” he says, “I can’t believe it’s you— are, are you okay? do you have everythin’ you need? I can bring anythin—”

“Steve” Y/N cautions, more firmly than before, “Take a breath”

The look of gratitude on Bucky’s face is obvious. He hadn’t meant to set the man off like that, he… he hadn’t really meant to do anything other than say hello, and now all of this is suddenly feeling like… like a big step for a phone call—

“Okay” Steve chuckles, “Okay, yeah, you’re right— sorry— sorry, Buck I- I know you need time, and your own space, I- I get it, I swear.”

“Breathe” Y/N repeats, “take a breath- I wouldn't put it past you to be the first super solider to give himself an asthma attack”

To his credit, he does listen to her, despite her teasing tone. The way that he stops to draw in a real, grounding breath is audible, even via a phone call.

“I’m… I’m here and I’m fine” is what Bucky chimes in, “I… I’m just— it’s… this a lot, Steve”

“Yeah” the other man agrees, clearly a little bit calmer, “Yeah, I know- I’m sorry”

“Stop apologising” Y/N inserts, “It’s fine, you’re both fine-“

“She’s right…” Bucky agrees, “I… I trust you, I know you want to make this easy on me”

“I do” Steve agrees, “I really, I do, Buck- so anything, anything either of you need—”

“Let’s start with lunch” Y/N suggests, knuckle grazing Bucky’s chin, “Don’t rush back, just finish up whatever you’re doin’, stop by the deli and-”

“2 cheese-steaks” Steve finishes happily, “I’ll see you soon?”

That’s a question. It’s definitely a question.

“Yeah” Bucky answers, “See you soon.”

FRIDAY ends the call, and Y/N can’t help but tilt her head as the man in her lap sags back into her front.

“You can still change your mind” she promises, knowing he’ll need the reminder, “Baby, that was brave…”

“..I… I’ve missed him” he says, realising as he does, that it’s the truth, “I’m just, god I'm scared, I'm scared and I don't even know why.”

“I know”

She does know, too, she’s known that he’s missed Steve since she'd first had a real conversation with it, despite his frequent and sometimes playful denials.

“Will you stay close?” Bucky asks next, “When he’s here, doll, will you stay with me?”

“Sure I will” she swears, stroking a line from his temple, all the way across his neck, “I’ll stay wherever you want me to.”

He likes that, nodding before huffing out a deep breath.

“You know…” she says, thought just occurring to her, “…I don’t think Steve has actually ever been in here…”

“Hmm?”

“Steve” Y/N says again, “he’s never stopped by, it’s always been me goin’ to see him.”

“Well” Bucky sighs tiredly, “You’re a real pretty girl, and he’s never been real good at speakin’ to dames, maybe he’s a little scared too”

“Maybe” she agrees, “We’ll have to make sure he feels welcome”

He just hums again, daring to imagine how nice it might be to have his oldest friend come to visit.

To come to his home for a meal, like… like they’d done as boys.

To see him and Y/N laughing, to see the two people he cares for the most in the world together, together in one place, in one, safe place.

And then he’s asleep.

Y/N notices the rise and fall of his chest becoming deeper, and then, she sees the tell-tale way his legs twitch when he starts dreaming.

“FRIDAY, let me know when Steve gets close”

The AI hears her whispered request and replies almost silently so as not to disturb the man in her arms.

For a minute, she wonders what to do with herself, but then, she remembers the ‘code white’ protocol and the way that the list of programmed triggers have been transferred over to her.

In Tony’s defence, it’s actually not a bad list.

It includes basic behavioural alerts, and, an audio monitoring system that is set to catch any of his code words in every known language.

So if anyone tries to use them, if anyone tried to hack into anything and blast them over their speakers, or if anyone was stupid enough to try them in person, then they’d be alerted before anything could come of it.

She looks more into what exactly happens when it is activated, too, and when she does, she realises just how thoughtful Tony had been when coding it.

It doesn’t just remove Bucky’s access and send out a ping to their devices.

It locks him in whatever room he’s in, unless he’s with anyone the software isn’t certain is a friendly.

It secures him, safely, in one place, making sure that nobody could try and take advantage of the situation; and then, it sends a distress signal, her, Steve and Tony, not letting up until they’re within range of his location and even then, they still need to manually over-ride it.

There are details, too, details so thoughtful that she doubts that even she could’ve come up with anything better;

Wherever Bucky is, when this is triggered, is programmed to be as calming of an environment as possible.

The lights will stay dim, and the audio will be dampened— FRIDAY is still set to respond to him as family, so he won’t ever be left totally alone waiting for someone he trusts to arrive.

She only makes a few minor adjustments. She adds a triggers that they wouldn’t have known about, and eases the parameters for his biological monitoring to better allow for his enhancements.

“He’s not Steve” she tells FRIDAY quietly, “If Tony’s ever doing anything like this again, remind him that he was exposed to different stimuli, and has some more more complex internal components— it’s not just his arm, which, by the way, is more invasive than he thinks.”

The AI’s barley audible ‘Yes, boss’ makes her smile, so does the agreement she gets when she asks her to let her brother know how grateful she is for all of his hard work.

Tony likes gestures, Y/N thinks to herself, maybe I can finish up a project for him?

“Hey, FRIDAY?” she sighs, flicking her holo-tablet off, “Is Tony stallin’ on anythin? Somethin’ that he just can’t seem to make himself finish?”

“Now you mention it, Y/N- There is the end of year review for the STARK internship programme. He has been opening the files, but he has yet to make a start on the actual report, even though he has had the brief for the past 4 months.”

“Send it over” she murmurs, smiling to herself, “Will I have time to get started, or shall I wait until tonight?”

“Captain Rodgers is downstairs, I was just about to alert you.”

“Later it is” she decides, slipping back to normal volume now that she knows she has to wake Bucky anyway, “Hey, baby”

Her fingers curl through his hair as she shifts, repeating her greeting.

He’s still in her arms, face pressed against her chest, and as he feels himself becoming more and more alert, he starts to remember exactly where he is.

And then he’s smiling.

“God” he mumbles, “did, did I pass out?”

Y/N chuckles, rubbing her nose against his before pressing a kiss against his mouth.

“A little” she soothes, stroking his cheek, “did you sleep well?”

“Yeah” he replies honestly, “Yeah, I— I did”

“Good” she beams, kissing him again, “Steve’s on his way, have you decided what you wanna’ do?”

He ducks his head, bashful for a moment.

“I’ll say Hi” he tells her, “We… We should invite him in, too?”

“It’s your place” she reminds him gently, “You can invite whoever you want.”

That concept makes him smile, sweet and genuine as he nods.

“I… I might be a little jumpy” he warns her, “I- I’d feel better if you—”

“—Stay close?”

She nods as she strokes a line down, across both of his arms, feeling the softness of the fabric sleeves he’s wearing.

“You like the shirt?” she wonders, “Does it fit?”

“Yeah” he says, “Yeah it… it’s perfect”

“Good” is the last thing she manages to say before there’s a knock on their door.

Bucky freezes for a second. Eyes widening as adrenaline floods his chest, but then, he takes a breath, and moves so that they can both stand up.

He clings to Y/N’s hand the second he can reach, and doesn’t even think about letting go as they head towards the entrance.

“If you need to leave” she tells him under her breath, “just go to the bedroom— I’ll take care of Steve, okay?”

He nods, biting his cheek so hard that he tastes blood on his tongue.

“Here we go then”

The door opens, and Y/N nearly chokes when she sees Steve Rodgers, stood, in his full suit, shield strapped to his back, with a bag of cheese-steaks in his hands.

“Oh my god” she scoffs, blinking rapidly, “What are you wearing?”

He looks down at himself, gawking.

“I- I was doin’ press” he stammers awkwardly, “I-”

“You didn’t think about changin?” Bucky says, shock making him forget his nervousness for a moment

“Well-” Steve says, smiling shyly, “You did make me promise to keep the outfit, remember?”

Out of all the ways that Bucky might’ve reacted, Y/N thinks that him, letting go of her hand whilst stepping forwards to hug his oldest friend is probably the best.

Steve is clearly so taken aback by the gesture that he doesn’t know what to do, because the way that he barely grazes the other mans back with his arms is telling.

The whole thing is so sweet, so desperately, earnestly sweet, that she doesn’t know what to do.

The pair separate quickly enough, and Bucky retreats to her side with a flush of red in his cheeks and eyes that look awfully full.

Y/N suspects Steve is crying too, but if he is, he hides it well by turning to fuss with his shield.

“How many subs did you get?” she asks, looking at the bag he’s still clutching, “That’s a little big for only 2?”

“Oh” he chuckles, “yeah, they— they gave me a bunch, insisted when they, saw— y’know? they would’t even let me pay! I had to get FRIDAY to wire it across”

Y/N sniggers a little at that, at the image of a fully dressed Captain America standing in line at a Deli.

“Want to come eat with us?”

Steve’s jaw drops when Bucky asks him that.

When he looks at Y/N, face full of surprise and she just offers him a one armed shrug.

“I… are— are you sure, Buck, I- I don’t want to gate-crash”

“It’s not gatecrashin’ if you’re invited” Bucky counters, feeling awfully proud of himself, “I- I’m not sayin’ I’m ready to throw a dinner party but, you should see where I’m stayin’ at least.”

“Yeah” Steve grins, “Yeah I’d, I’d love that, Y/N/N- is, is that okay with you?”

“It’s his place as much as mine, ‘Cap” she says, leading the way inside, “and he’s right, you should see it— honestly I can’t believe you haven’t stopped by sooner.”

“If I’m bein’ honest” he says, closing the door behind himself, “I’ve only ever been this high up once or twice.”

“Roof parties or for the labs?” Y/N asks, watching calmly as Steve’s eyes widen, obviously captivated by the space,

“Once of each” the pair say in unison.

Steve lets out an awkward chuckle, still taken aback by inside of her suite.

“C’mon boys” she coos, acutely aware of the way that Bucky has frozen, now, hovering by her side, fingers tight against her own, “Let’s eat?”

The nod Steve gives her is much more natural than that of her partner.

They walk to the couch, and sit, together, with Steve hovering awkwardly in front of them until Y/N rolls her eyes and points at the arm chair.

“Sit, Steve, Jesus— You’re acting like you thought I lived in a- well I don’t know, what were you expecting?”

He opens the bag, pulling out three sandwiches, and passing her two before looking up and around again.

“Not this…” he admits, “I’m, I’m not really sure, darlin’— maybe something a little more…“

“Modern?” Bucky guesses, recalling his earlier observations.

“Yeah” Steve agrees, grinning, “yeah, that’s the word.”

“It’s plenty modern” Y/N retorts playfully, “Almost half the stuff in here is custom built technology, god, I think even the cutlery is vibranium.”

“I didn’t mean it like that” Steve says, taking a bite out of his sub, “I meant the… the stuff”

Her eyes roll again, and she notices how the only one of them who hasn’t even unwrapped his meal is Bucky.

He’s still clinging to her hand, sandwich abandoned on his lap.

Y/N meets Steve’s eye a second before he considers mentioning it.

The look she gives him speaks a thousand words, and he finds himself ignoring it completely, containing the polite chatter he’s making with her, instead.

"You know why me and Tony have all the important stuff up so high?" she says, "It's so if we ever have to jump out the window, there's enough time for the emergency suits to deploy- we had to get measurements so we knew which floors we could claim"

And Bucky is insanely grateful. He’s so, so grateful to not have to try and speak right now, when all he wants to do is watch.

Y/N just keeps hold of his hand, as she eats with the other.

She nods along with Steve and hopes she knows how important it is that he doesn’t push too hard right now.

This is already such a huge step. It really is the epitome of running before you can walk, though, so she doesn’t want to do anything that might cause him to stumble.

A few minutes pass and they’re done with their food.

They’re done, and Steve knows that he should probably leave.

“Did you tell T that we’re back?” Y/N asks

“Yeah” Steve sighs, “but it kinda seemed like he already knew.”

She scoffs, bringing Bucky’s hand to her lips.

“Sounds about right” she murmurs, pressing kiss against his knuckles, “Tell him I’ll catch up with him tomorrow? I think we’re due a quiet night in, huh, Buck?”

His head tilts when he hears his name. He blinks, looking almost dazed before he smiles and nods in agreement.

“Yeah, doll” he murmurs, “a… a quiet night in sounds good…”

“I’ll pass it on” Steve swears, going to stand, “I- I should go and get changed”

Y/N chuckles at that, not bothering to stand, “You should definitely change” she agrees, “Romanoff is gonna kick your ass if she catches you roaming the halls like that”

His laugh is silent, it’s embarrassed but real. He nods in agreement and catches Bucky’s eye.

“I’ll see ya’ around, Buck” he promises, “and remember, if either of you need anythin’ then just-”

“let you know” Y/N chimes in softly, “We will, I promise, but for right now, I think we just need some time to settle in.”

He smiles at that, and nods in agreement, offering her a two fingered salute as he turns to leave.

And then, they’re both sleeping. They’re a bundle of warm skin and tangled limbs until the sun is well and truly risen.

It’s Bucky who stirs first; the feeling is strange.

It’s the first time in a very, very long time that he’s been able to come round calmly, without either confusion or terror clouding his mind. For a moment, it jars him. He blinks, muddled, and, the crease in his brow only tightens when he finds himself starring at a soft sea of hair.

It’s Y/N’s hair. He knows it well enough, it’s not the first time he’s woken up with his face buried in the soft, dark, curls. But still, this time he’s aware enough to appreciate his position fully. He’s pressed against her chest, her arms are still draped across his back, and if he turns his head a fraction he’ll be able to press a kiss against her jaw.

And that’s what wakes her.

The tickle of his lips against her face. The gentle brush of stubble against her cheeks.

She’s smiling. She’s beaming at him before her eyes open.

“Mornin’, angel…” he purrs, voice thick with adoration, “Did I wake ya’ again?”

Now, she’s watching him. Warm, brown eyes shining with love as she hums.

“I’m not complainin’…” she says softly, shifting so that she can reach up, and stroke his jaw, “…God, you’re gorgeous, Buck— How do you look this good in the mornin’?”

As blush fills his cheeks, Y/N can’t help sigh, thinking dreamily about how unfair it is that flattery only helps him look more beautiful.

“Seriously” she insists, “It’s insane… you’re just, perfect.”

“Stop” he murmurs, ducking his head bashfully, “Please, darlin’…. you know I—”

“I know” she cuts in, “That you need to get better at takin’ compliments. Especially since we’re living together full time now, and you’re goin’ to be hearing a whole lot more of them.”

That silences him. He’s so grateful for the he reminder that this is permanent that the added realisation that he might actually get to wake up like this more often is so overwhelming he can barely stand it.

“Baby” Y/N coos, affectionate as ever, “look at that face.”

Her fingers are curling across his cheek now, and he knows she really is looking. Her gaze is flickering across his features, drinking him in and all he can think to do is avert his eyes.

“How could anyone ever hurt you, huh?” she whispers, taking him totally off guard, “I don’t know how you ever got caught up in a war.”

He gulps, trying to swallow against the lump her sweet words have brought to his throat.

He doesn’t reply to her. He can’t.

“I guess it doesn’t matter now” she says somewhat finally, “Since you’re home now, and you… you are never going to see another fight."

“I’d fight for you” He replies suddenly, words leaving his lips before he’d decided to speak.

When he realises what he’s actually just said, he’s shocked. He hasn’t ever said that out loud before;

I would, though, he thinks firmly, I’d do anything for her, and I’m a hell of a fighter.

Y/N is curious. Not necessarily about his words, or the intensity of the connotations they hold, but more so about the strange tone that had laced them.

She meets his gaze and waits, half expecting him to look away again. He doesn’t, though. He sets his jaw definitely and stares right back at her, almost challenging her to argue.

“Well” Bucky hears her murmur, “It’s Lucky I would never ask you to do anythin’ like that, isn’t it, Barnes?”

“You wouldn’t have to ask” he replies instantly, almost offended that she might think he’d wait for her permission to defend her, “Y/N, I’d-”

“You” she beams, softening the atmosphere by letting her thumb brush across his cheek like a kiss, “are not a solider, sweetheart… You, have earned an early retirement…”

He opens his mouth the insist; To convince her that he’d happily be re-drafted if it was her on the line, but, she’s speaking before he gets chance,

“I know you want to protect me” she swears, “and I know you would if it came down to it, baby, but now, now is your time to heal… to rest up and let me keep you safe— I couldn’t do that the way I wanted before… I couldn’t stop you from gettin’ hurt but I can now, I can, and you’ve gotta humour me for a while, at least…”

Bucky pauses for a beat, starring at her and swallowing before he finally makes himself nod.

Even if she doesn’t show it often, he knows that she must’ve been effected by her time with HYDRA too, and no matter how many times he tells her just how much better she made it for him, it’s never going to be enough to make her feel like she did enough.

Not when she spent years watching him be tortured. Not when she’d had to struggle to get him a few hours worth of peace.

“You might not’ve been able to do what you wanted…” he whispers, wanting to tell her again, “…but you did more than enough for me…”

“I know” she agrees with a small, loving smile, “but now— Now I can do so much better than the bare minimum, baby— I can keep you safe, really safe…”

“Oh, god” Bucky whispers, letting his head settle against her palm, “doll, I love you so much…I, I just… I just want to promise ya that I’m going to protect you too, because I couldn’t keep you safe at all, back then, I— I just couldn’t do anything…and, I adore ya, and I- I fought for people before when I didn’t have a choice and I, I’d do anything you’d ask me too, anything I, I swear…”

“I love you too” she beams, finding his rambling awfully endearing, “and I promise, that I won’t ever, ever, ask you to do anything you’ll regret, okay? I’m going to spend the rest of my life making you smile as much as I can.”

The way he beams at her makes her heart ache behind her ribs. She’s so hopelessly in love that she feels almost ridiculous.

“We’re disgusting” Bucky hears her announce, “Really, Buck— we’re gonna have to reign it in if we’re ever goin’ to be around other people, because sometimes we’re so hall-mark that it makes me sick…”

He laughs at that. A real, deep laugh that makes his eyes screw up at the corners. When Y/N sees the look on his face ‘reigning it in’ is the furthest thing from her mind.

And then, she’s kissing him, and he’s kissing her, and they’re both breathless, and giddy, and when they separate, Bucky is dazed from the niceness of the contact—

“Pancakes”

He raises her brow when he hears her, voice soft and as gentle as her lips had been against his,

“Pancakes?” he echos, confused

“You said you wanted them” she chuckles, reaching up to stroke his cheek, “unless you’ve changed your mind?”

He’s blushing, hot and pink as he remembers what she’s talking about.

His eyes are blue, and full of awe as she tilts her head curiously, knuckles grazing his temple.

“Beautiful” she murmurs, meaning it, “Are you hungry?”

He is. He hasn’t eaten for a day, so he nods.

“C’mon then, baby…” she drawls, approving, “Unless you want breakfast in bed?”

“Can we do that?” he asks, disbelieving, “Seriously?”

“Seriously” she says, teasing slipping into her voice, “we’re adults, we can do whatever we want.”

God, he’s beaming at her again.

She can’t help but guide his smiling mouth back to hers, rubbing her nose against his before lacing their hands together and leading him towards the kitchen.

They have the dry ingredients in the cabinets and enough milk and eggs in the fridge.

Bucky is a picture. Hovering beside the breakfast bar with tousled hair and a sleepy expression that’s laced with genuine interest as he watches her gather everything together.

She gets a bowl, and presses a kiss against his cheek as she leans across the counter to grab a spoon from beside his shoulder.

He turns into her, capturing her lips instead.

He whispers out a “Coffee?” against her cheek.

“Please” she accepts, resuming her task, mixing everything together.

The coffee machine is similar enough to one he’s used before. He knows how she likes hers, so, he finishes it first, presenting her with a mug before he goes back to complete his own.

And then, he’s back to watching. He’s perched on a stool now, steam swirling around his cheeks, as she sets the frying pan on high heat and warns him that it’s about to make noise.

It does. The batter crackles angrily as she pours it onto the surface.

“What do you want with yours?” she asks, swallowing a sip of coffee.

Bucky feels his brow crease as he considers her question.

He has no idea. He hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“What did your ma’ used to do?” she wonders, “Do you remember?”

“We didn’t have much” he says thickly, “We just used to eat them with butter… or, or some honey if we were lucky…”

“Honey?” she repeats, smiling at him as he hides his face behind his mug.

“We have honey” she tells him, attention back on the pan, “and butter, and bacon, if you’d like to try that too? I forgot I bought it, it’d be a shame to throw it out”

He laughs, breathy and disbelieving and then he’s nodding.

By the time the food is cooked, the smell is making his stomach hurt. He’s suddenly ready to beg for as little as a mouthful. He settles for draining his mug, and starring, wide eyed as Y/N adds plates ladened with pancakes, and bacon, and butter, and honey to a tray that already held cutlery and a jug of water. It looks heavy. He goes to lift it, reaching it just before she does.

“Thank you” she murmurs, stroking his hip and nodding back towards the bedroom.

Breakfast in bed.

He remembers, and he suddenly has to be very careful not to trip over his own feet in his rush to get there.

Spools of her affectionate laughter ripple around him as he arranges the tray the mattress, waiting patiently for her to join him on the covers.

She does one better than that, kicking the blankets over their legs with a roll of her eyes.

“I said in bed” she teases, patting the space next to her, “not on the bed.”

He whispers out an “Oh, god” that makes her heart swell in her chest as she passes him his plate.

“It might not be as good as your mothers” she warns lightheartedly, “but it’s warm, so I doubt you’ll complain”

He manages a scoff before he’s eating.

And then, it takes every facet of control he has left not to moan in delight as he swallows.

It’s every bit as good as he remembers his mothers being.

It’s sweet, and hot, and she’s beaming at him, rubbing her feet against his legs under the duvet they’re sharing.

It’s one of the rare moments where he really, truly feels happy.

Where he’s not scared, or hurting, or watching his words.

He’s just eating breakfast in bed with the woman he loves, and nothing could be better than that.

“So, Sweetheart” Y/N beams, reaching over to clean a smudge of honey from his cheek, “What’s the verdict?”

“It’s good, doll” he gulps, “It’s real, good”

She nods in agreement, picking at another piece of bacon.

“I think so too” she says, “and it wasn’t hard to put together. We can definitely do it again.”

He feels his heart swelling three sizes as he looks at her. Searching her expression for a hint of mocking that he doesn’t find.

“Yeah?” he asks, still not daring to believe her

“Sure” she agrees, “Maybe not every day— but-”

“Maybe every week?”

He sounds like a child, she thinks, like an excited little boy.

“That sounds reasonable” she says, trying and failing to hold a serious expression, “and on the other 6 days we can see what else you like”

Even Bucky laughs at that, real and breathy.

and then, they’re finished. The plates are empty and he’s full, and starring at her with nothing short of adoration and she can’t help but sigh. She bats his hands away as she goes to discard their tray on the floor beside the bed, and then, she opens her arms to receive him when she settles back in position.

“You’re spoilin’ me” he murmurs, curling into her chest.

“Am I?” she whispers, feigning ignorance, “You want me to stop?”

“Never”

His stubble tickles her jaw, his voice is thick and sweet by her ear.

“Good” she coos, relishing in the affectionate display, “Because I don’t think I’m ever gonna stop”

Her fingers are in his hair. She’s stroking through the tangles, and letting her nails trail across his head and he’s nearly purring in delight.

“Baby” she whispers, “What do you want to do today, huh? We can do whatever you want.”

“Oh, god”

He is purring, now. Physically keening out in response to the way she’s touching him so sweetly.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

She’s teasing him because he’s flustered, and all he can think to do is return the favour. Nuzzling down into her throat, and letting his tongue flick out to the skin behind her ear. By the time he starts kissing her jaw, she’s laughing all over again.

“Okay” she concedes with a giggle, “-You win— Your tongue is right where it belongs”

He smiles, hidden, before going back to pressing his lips across her face.

“But, as nice as that is— It’s still not an answer” she insists, playing with his curls, “What’do you wanna do today?”

“Anythin’” he murmurs, “Anythin’ with you”

“Hmmmm” she hums, pressing her brow against his, “That’s real vague Buck, especially since we’re goin’ to be together every day from now on…”

Bucky beams at her. His eyes creasing up at the sides as he lets himself really, truly smiles at the woman he loves.

“Every day?” he mumbles, tone a shade too hopeful to maintain the playful atmosphere

“Every day” She confirms, pressing a kiss against his lips, “Starting from today.”

“Oh, god” he whispers, voice shaking, “…I love you so much, doll— I really, I can’t tell ya how much…”

“You’re a sap” she teases, pecking at his cheek now, “Baby, but I love you too”