Important author's note: Hi guys! This is the sequel to Marvel Across Time! It is a series of one shots that will skip aroun in time, but will ultimately follow the same story line. The official ships are Jess/Bucky, Gabi/Steve, Pepper/Toni, Natasha/Banner, Laura/Clint, Thor/Jane, and Wanda/Vision, as well as my friend's two OC's, Rebecca and Noah. I will NOT change these ships. However, I am more than open to suggestions for stories. Anyways, you don't need to read Marvel Across Time, but it will help you understand things better.
Shout-out: To my loyal followers
Warning: Family fluff, a little sadness, and brief mention of implied rape
Bucky's POV
"Jess?" I knock on the door, "Are you okay? You've been in there a while. Are you sure you don't want me to call Banner?" I'm full of worry for my wife. We've been married two years now, and it's been incredible. I'll never understand why she loves me so much, but I'm glad she does.
"I'm fine. I'll be out in the minute," she says through the bathroom door, "It must have been all the tacos. I told you going along with Tony's whole 'Foreign Cuisine' month was a bad idea."
"I know. But last night was the last night," I reply, then pause, thinking about something that had happened. I hate the flashbacks I still have, even though it has been years, "Are you sure you're not still upset about what happened?"
"Bucky, I told it was okay. You have flashbacks. It happens. It's not like you broke my hand," she says. There had been an incident about a month ago with one of my flashbacks and I had been holding her hand at the time and her hand ended up sprained. I had a hard time forgiving myself for that one.
"I know, but I still hurt you," I say, genuinely worrying about her. After a minute the toilet flushes and the water runs for a minute before the door opens and I'm nose to nose with my beautiful wife.
"I love you. No matter what. And if something was going on, I'd tell you. But there is nothing going on. So don't worry, okay?"
"I always worry about you, Jess," I tell her, wrapping my arms gently around her. I'm still careful with the metal one, but she keeps insisting that she doesn't care and that I should embrace it.
"I need to get to work. We're starting our big experiment today and Banner'll start with or without me," she kisses me quickly before grabbing her purse and leaving the house in a hurry. I smile. Jess loves her job so much. It's great to see her this happy. I just hope she feels better soon.
"Daddy?" I turn around and see my four year old behind me, his big blue eyes looking into mine.
"What's wrong?" I ask him, ruffling his blond curls. He's dressed in a Captain America onesie.
"Fluffy and Cloud are gone," he tells me. A few weeks ago, our cat, Mrs. Whiskers had a litter of 3 kittens. Well, our is a strong word. She just showed up at our farmhouse, and made herself at home.
After we had gotten married, Jess wanted to move into a farm like one Clint lives on. I happily agreed, knowing the fresh air and space would be a good place for our son to grow up.
"I'm sure they went on another adventure, bud. You know those two are curious. I just hope they don't make a mess." Mrs. Whiskers is one of those poofy white long haired cats that needs a bath every few days. A week ago, Cloud and Fluffy had somehow gotten into my paint. Steve had suggested it as something to distract me and it turned out I'm not awful at it. I really like it, too. On the days I'm not helping out at the VA and when Toby is elsewhere for his play group, I paint. There are 5 kids in the group and they rotate whose house it's at. It's here on Thursdays. I volunteer Mondays and Wednesdays and every other Saturday at the VA.
"Why doesn't Waffles explore?" Toby asks. Toby had named all three kittens. Waffles was the littlest of the three. Generally he stayed near his mother while his sister, Cloud, and his brother, Fluffy, got into mischief.
"I don't know, bud. I guess he doesn't want to. Fluffy and Cloud will find their way back. Come on, let's go get you dressed and fed for play group."
"Okay, Daddy," I carry him back up to his room and pick out his outfit. He can put his own clothes on, but if he picks, he ends up in the strangest combination, or not wearing pants (it's happened more times than I care to admit.)
Once he's dressed, I make breakfast for him and set a plate at his spot. I sit across from him and eat, my thought going to my wife. I wonder what's she's up to right now. I hope she's okay. I know she says she's fine, but that incident 6 or so weeks ago really shook her….
After breakfast, I drive to the location of this week's play group and drop Toby off.
"Be good, okay, my little soldier?" I tell him and kiss his head.
"Yes Daddy. I love you."
"I love you too, Toby," I say. He hugs me and then runs off to play with his little friends. I say hi to the two moms from the group that are watching the kids. There are always two adults, because 5 kids aged three to five are hard to look after, especially because the mom who is running the group today has a newborn as well, but insisted on continuing to host.
I go home to take a shower, only to find trash all over the bathroom floor. Fluffy is hiding in the corner and there is a quiet meowing from the upside down trashcan. I lift it up and grab Cloud as she darts out and then grab Fluffy as well. I walk to where Mrs. Whiskers is laying on her bed with Waffles curled up to her.
"Here you go, Mama," I say, setting down the two kittens, "You're missing troublemakers. Keep a better eye on them." They happily curl up and join their napping brother. I walk back into the bathroom and start to pick up the trash. I pick up what I think is a toothpaste box and am about to throw it into the trash when I realize that no one had bought toothpaste recently. My eyes widen when I read it.
Pregnancy Test.
Am I going to be a father again? If Jess didn't tell me this morning, then is the test negative? Does she want another baby? I can't remember her ever saying anything about it. I mean, she has said she wants more kids, but we've never actually talked about it. I know it's not any of my business to find out the result. If Jess wants me to know, she'll tell me. But this could be my future child. Despite my better judgement, I sift through the trash to find the test. If it's negative, it doesn't matter. But if it's not-.
My hand finds something hard in the mess and I have one last chance to just walk away. But I don't. I unwrap it from the bunch of tissues it's in. I look at it and see the little lines, but I can't recall what that means. So I find the directions and skim through them until I find what I want. Two lines means that I'm going to be a father again.
I sit down on the floor and press my back against the wall, holding the piece of plastic. I can't help but smile at it. I get to be a father again. This time I can watch the woman I love slowly get bigger and know that my baby is in her. I can see my second child be born and hold my wife's hand through the long process of labor. I can hear the first cry of this second child. I already love my baby. Then I remember that these tests can be wrong. Maybe that's why Jess didn't say anything. She probably wants confirmation before she gets her hopes up. That's probably why she was in such a hurry to leave this morning to see Banner. Unless she doesn't want my baby. Nowadays, people have a choice. Did she even want Toby? Would she have kept him in this time? I didn't know. She says she loves kids but was that the truth? I know I have to wait until she comes back.
I head up my my art studio and try to focus on my painting, but I find it difficult. How am I supposed to focus on anything else? Jess could be gone all day for all I know. I wish she had told me about it this morning. I force myself to focus on my painting to pass the time. It's of a fall landscape with beautifully colored trees. Fall has always been my favorite season. The temperature is right, there are so many colors, Halloween, and pumpkin and apple pie. Plus, Jess's birthday is in the fall. She says that her birthday doesn't matter now that we have Tobias, but I don't agree. I can't ignore my gal's birthday, now can I?
I hear and see Jess's car pull into the driveway from my window. I watch, but she doesn't get out of the car. She just sits there. I frown. She must be upset about something. It probably has something to do with the test, but I'm not sure if she wants a baby or not, so I can't tell what's going on. So, I leave my studio and head downstairs and out the door and open the passenger side of her car and sit down.
"Hey. Is something wrong?" I ask gently.
"No, I'm fine, Bucky. I was feeling a little sick, so I thought I'd let it pass. Banner sent me home because I'm still sick, unfortunately."
"I'm sorry. I knew you were really excited about the experiment. Do you want me to carry you in?"
"I'm not a baby," she snaps, which is so unlike her, "I'm sorry." She whispers when I flinch. She looks like she's about ready to cry.
"Jess, you know you can tell me anything. We're in this together," I say.
"Fine, but let's go inside. I don't want to tell you in the car," she says and opens her door. I get out of my side and walk over her. She stumbles and almost falls.
"I'm such a klutz," she says, "I don't know how I don't trip over everything in sight."
"No one is as much of a klutz as Steve was before the serum," I remind her. It was a wonder that boy wasn't constantly covered in injuries.
"He was pretty clumsy, wasn't he?" Jess laughs, but I know it's forced. I've been around her long enough. We walk into the house and I follow her into the living room She throws herself down on the couch and I settle down beside her.
"Okay, so I don't know how to put this gently, so I'll just go out and say it. I haven't been feeling well, as you know," I say, "But I hate doctors, so I thought I'd let whatever was wrong with me pass. I was sick a lot growing up, so it's whatever."
"Are you dying?" I whisper. That is what she makes it sound like. That's what I feel I could say if I didn't kinda know what was going on.
"No, I'm not. But then I really thought about my symptoms, and when I did, I realized I'd had all of them together once before." I try my best to play stupid and hope my acting skills are better than I think they are.
"What are you talking about?" I look into her eyes.
"I thought I was pregnant," she finally say, "The reason I took so long in the bathroom this morning was because I was taking a test. Then, I went to Banner, wanting to figure out the truth before I said anything."
"So, there is no baby?" I ask, my voice steady, "You didn't need to tell me this. Unless you just wanted someone to talk to." I wish she would just tell me straightforward.
"Bucky, you are a terrible actor," she tells me straight out. I freeze. Did she know I knew the whole time, "You want to be a dad. I know it."
"That obvious, huh?" I ask and run a hand through my hair.
"You've practically memorized the journal I wrote when I was pregnant," she says, which isn't completely true, but I have read it a lot.
"Jess, I found your test this morning. The two furry troublemakers knocked the trash over," I admit.
"My bloodwork came back normal," she says quietly, "The test was wrong for some reason. I'm sorry. But at least we can talk about the future."
"Is it really a good idea?" I stare at my shoes, "With all my incidents. Babies are so tiny."
"James, don't you dare," Jess practically growls, "When you first came back around, Toby was really little. You didn't hurt him and you didn't hurt me. What is this really about?"
"I ALMOST KILLED YOU!" I lose my temper, which rarely happened, "I almost killed you 6 weeks ago! And you need to stop acting like it's fine because it isn't!"
"A.) That wasn't you. That was the other guy. Yes, it was at the worst possible tie, but you couldn't help it. B.) I'm not dead. The bruises are gone. I'm not afraid of you. I love you. Don't you get that? C.) You clearly look disappointed, but in case you forgot, you have been keeping me at arm's distance, so it would have been his baby had I been pregnant," she says firmly, "So if you want to leave me, go ahead. I won't hold it against you. If you're that afraid, maybe you shouldn't stay with me. Maybe you should go live in the woods away from everyone. Otherwise, get over it. Act like my husband. If you want to be a father again, which you do, then do something about it!"
"You really think I could live without you? I've kept me alive. I wanted to die when I woke up. I had a plan! Then you just showed up at the cemetary. Like my guardian angel. You kept me sane through everything. When I was captured, I was afraid I'd never see you again. I think I survived the experiments because I wanted to go back to you. When I was on missions, the thought of you kept me sane. When I fell off that train, I was thinking of you. When I woke up in Russia with a fake arm, confused, I thought of you. On missions, no matter how many times they brainwashed me, there was always one name in the Winter Soldier's mind, because I kept it there. I hate being away from you." We both stood there for several moments, staring at each other, not knowing what to say or do. Finally her eyes start to water and I quickly wrap my arms around her. She cries into my chest.
"I wanted that test to be right so badly," I hear her say between sobs, "I want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy. I want to be a mom again."
"I want you to be happy," I kiss the top of her head, "It'll be alright, Jess. We'll figure out. But you need to know that you can talk to me about anything, okay? I don't want you to think you need to keep your emotions bottled up. And I'll be forthright with my emotions too, okay?" I feel her nod against me, but she stays where she is. I slowly rub her back, my arms moving up and down. I am definitely the luckiest man on Earth, there is no debating it. I have a beautiful, amazing wife who is a wonderful mother and loves me for some reason. I have an adorable little boy who worships us. I have a nice farm. What else could anyone ever want? So maybe the past has been rocky, but it's the future that matters, not the past. If we have another baby or if we don't it doesn't matter to me. The family I have is more perfect than I deserve.
We both go and pick Toby up from play group that afternoon then go out for a late lunch. We let Toby pick, so we end up at Friendly's. People look at me strange, which I'm used to, but I don't pay them any attention. I hardly let it bother me anymore.
"Why do you have a metal arm?" a little girl stops in front of our table.
"Michelle, that's rude," her mother scolds, "I'm sorry sir."
"It's okay," I smile, "Kids."
"My daddy brave," Toby says, answering the little girl, sounding proud, "He save people."
"My daddy used to do that," the girl looks sad.
"I'm sorry for your loss," I tell the mother.
"Thank you," she smiles sadly and she and the little girl walk away. I look over at my son and smile. He's a good kid. We had told Toby just enough so that he stopped asking questions about it. Someday we'll tell him and our other kids, if we have any, the truth. But for now we're going to let him be a little kid. He deserves that.
Like I said, I will take any suggestions as to what to do and what ship to do it with. I have a couple other shots written out, but I love your input. Your suggestion can just be a word or you can tell me a short summery of what you would like to happen. Review or PM me.
- The Other Avenger