When Bucky's eyes shot open it was still dark outside. He let out an exhausted sigh and rolled over to grab his phone from the side of the bed to look at the time.

"Three o'clock," he mumbled, "right on schedule." He lay in the darkness staring at the ceiling for a minute or so until the first faint whimpers of a baby started drifting through the walls. It only took a few seconds for the tiny noises to become screams and before the sounds of stumbling feet and a tired voice could be heard through the walls as well.

This routine had been going on for about two weeks now; every night around three in the morning, Bucky was jolted awake by crying.

The first time it had happened, Bucky had jumped from his bed, the knife he kept under his pillow in his fist and his eyes wildly searching the room for a threat. When he registered the scream as a baby, he had taken a shaky breath and dropped the knife on his nightstand before slashing some water on his face and getting back in bed. The next couple of nights had been about the same until his body started waking him up before the screaming started.

Bucky hadn't even met his neighbors yet. They had moved in two weeks ago, but they had never been out while Bucky had been out and Bucky wasn't exactly the type to invite someone in for casserole. All he knew about them was that the baby had a healthy set of lungs and the father had a soothing voice when he was trying to calm the baby down. He didn't even know their names.

Bucky turned over again and checked his phone, it had already been ten minutes and the baby was screaming even louder now. Usually Bucky could fall back asleep while the baby was crying, but it was just too much tonight.

Bucky could hear the man trying to calm the baby, but the screams continued. He tried to bury his head in his pillow to drown out the noise but gave up after a few minutes and threw himself out of his bed. Before he knew what was happening, he had already walked out of his apartment and knocked on his neighbor's door.

He stood waiting for a few moments and nearly dozed off until the door was thrown open and the screams were made louder than ever.

Bucky stood shocked at the image in front of him for a split second. The man in the doorway giving Bucky a helpless look was tall and muscular with broad shoulders and messy golden blond hair and he held a baby swaddled in a green blankets in the crook of his right arm.

The man opened his mouth, probably to apologize for the noise when Bucky interrupted him. "Do you need help?" When the man gave a skeptic look Bucky sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I know this sounds weird and intrusive, but I basically raised my little sisters, I know a thing or two about babies." The man still didn't look convinced to let a strange man help with his baby, go figure. "Also, I honestly just want some sleep."

There was a pause, then the baby took a deep breath before letting out an even fiercer screech than before and the man looked up at Bucky. "Okay, please help me. I don't know what is wrong," he said, gesturing for Bucky to come inside. "I fed him and changed him and rocked him. He's just crying. He does this all the time, just cries for no reason." The man looked close to crying, himself.

Bucky held his arms out. "May I?" The man passed the screaming baby into Bucky's arms and Bucky nestled him into his chest and started bouncing back and forth. "I'm Bucky by the way."

"Steve," said the man, "and this is Clint."

Bucky stopped bouncing and pressed his lips to Clint's forehead in a brief kiss. "He doesn't have a fever," he said. "You burped him after he ate, right?"

Steve nodded. "I can't think of any reason why he would still be crying."

"Sometimes babies just cry," Bucky said as he walked to the kitchen and turned the faucet on. He continued to bounce Clint as he stood beside the running water. "My youngest sister was a colic baby, it happens a lot with formula babies. The only thing that could make her quiet down was if we turned on constant noise in the background."

They stood there for a few minutes while Clint continued to cry. "This not going to do it for you, buddy?" Bucky said to Clint before turning to Steve. "Do you have a vacuum cleaner?" he asked as he turned the water off.

Steve was looking exhausted but he nodded.

"Could you bring it in here?"

It took a few moments of Clint still screaming into Bucky's chest before Steve came back in and put the vacuum cleaner in the floor beside the couch.

"Now what?" Steve asked.

"Plug it in," Bucky said, sitting down beside the machine and adjusting Clint in his arms.

Steve did it and then sat down beside Bucky. He watched Bucky turn the vacuum cleaner on and then start rocking Clint forward and back, humming softly against Clint's hair.

For a few minutes nothing changed and it seemed like they were going to have to try something else when the screams turned into cries that turned into whimpers that finally petered out to deep breaths littered with the occasional sniffle.

Bucky sent Steve a tired grin and whispered, "See, nothing to it."

Steve just nodded before leaning against the couch and looking sleepily at Bucky and Clint. Almost instantly, his eyes were closed and he was letting out soft snores. Bucky opted to just let him sleep, if Bucky was tired, there was no telling what Steve was.

Bucky tuned the vacuum cleaner off and made sure that Clint wasn't going to wake up again before leaning back against the couch and closing his eyes.

His last thought before drifting off was about how blue Steve's eyes were.