PANCAKES
It's around 4am. It's pitch black outside and Sam knows he isn't getting any more sleep. He's the kind of guy who likes to get his eight hours, but he kinda knew being an Avenger would fuck with that.
They took Bucky down to medical about four hours ago. No one has seen Steve. No one's heard anything since the screaming stopped at two.
Needless to say, Sam wasn't getting his eight hours in after that.
Sam can't think of anything helpful to do, so he decides to make breakfast. Natasha is already sitting at the kitchen island, and on her second cup of coffee. She's staring blankly at the wall. Sam is only sort of used to her doing that.
"You're gonna kill yourself drinking that stuff," Sam says.
Natasha gives him the middle finger, "If fucking aliens and robots can't kill me, coffee sure can't."
Sam raises his hands in surrender. He doesn't want to start arguing with her until at least her fourth cup. With a tired sigh, he starts pulling ingredients from the counter. Nat is sporting a bandage on her forehead. Bucky knocked her out cold for at least ten minutes. Sam can tell she's shaken up. Trying to save a guy who almost killed you once can do that. Watching Clint get the crap beat out of him made things even worse.
Sam starts measuring out the ingredients and Steve walks in the kitchen. He immediately slumps in the seat next to Nat. He hasn't said a word to anyone since they got Bucky on the plane.
Before they took Bucky home, they had to subdue Bucky, and it turns out he didn't exactly want to come with them. They all know something bad happened to him. They all know the look.
It's been about two minutes of awkward silence when Sam asks, "What shape would you like your pancakes in?"
Steve raises an eyebrow and doesn't smile. Nat rolls her eyes.
"If you don't tell me what shape you want, you're both getting unicorns."
"Steve wants a shield, obviously," Nat says. "I want a T-Rex."
"A shield is just a regular pancake," Steve says.
Nat and Sam do their best not to look at each other. Steve talking is a good sign.
"Then what do you want, Captain?" Sam asks.
No one says anything. Nat thinks that was probably the wrong question to ask. Everyone knows what Steve wants and everyone knows that it's killing him. She puts her hand on his shoulder because he needs to be reminded that she's got his back.
"Can you make him a pancake that says 'fuck'?" Nat asks.
Sam smiles widely, "Fuck, yes I can."
Steve sighs deeply, but the corner of his mouth is turned up slightly. It makes them both a little worried that he doesn't scold their language.
Nat keeps her hand on Steve's shoulder and squeezes. Sam is flying from place to place and throwing things down on the counter.
He turns to them, "Either of you allergic to nuts?"
"Steve is," says a ragged voice.
All eyes whip to the doorway. Nat stands up. Sam reaches for a knife just to be safe. Steve sighs in relief. Bucky comes into the kitchen, squinting at the brightness. He looks like shit. It makes Steve's heart leap anyway.
The room is totally silent. Bucky looks straight down at the floor. Sam hasn't put down the knife. Nobody is quite sure what to do next.
Steve wants to get up and wrap him in a hug. He wants to do a lot of things, but he's worried even the slightest movement will make the light in Bucky's eyes disappear. All he really wants is to keep that small spark of recognition. Bucky remembers him and that's all that matters.
There's thirty seconds of horrible silence before Sam asks, "What shape do you want your pancake in?"
Nat looks at Sam and rolls her eyes. Steve can't take his eyes off Bucky.
"Can you make a smiley face?" Bucky asks.
Sam snorts, "Of course."
"A smiley face," Nat says. "Saying 'fuck.'"
"Language," Steve says, with a worried look at Bucky.
He's worried that at any moment, Bucky will snap and try to kill them. It doesn't seem like Nat and Sam will go as easy on him the second time. He's worried Bucky is running out of second chances. Not from him, but from the rest of the world.
Bucky feels kind of hazy, but it's the kind of disorientation you get after you've slept too long. The world feels unreal. It feels unsteady. Steve gets up and leads him by the hand to the counter. Things start to feel a little more real.
"Guy wakes up from a crazy induced coma and all he wants is a smiley face," Sam mumbles as he pours the batter on the skillet with flair. "Little insulting to my artistic side, but whatever."
"Shut up and makes us some damn pancakes," Nat says, stealing some of the batter.
No one talks much. There isn't a lot to say. Nat makes everyone more coffee, but she gives Bucky decaf. Sam turns on the radio and hums along under his breath. He tries to make kind of a show out of flipping the pancakes. It makes him feel a little better when one corner of Bucky's mouth turns up and it makes him feel a lot better when that makes Steve smile.
In the end, Steve gets a regular, shield shaped pancake with the word "Fuck" written in red, white, and blue sprinkles. Nat gets a T-Rex and also requests a unicorn. Sam makes himself a falcon. Bucky gets a smiley face loaded up with sprinkles and chocolate chips.
The sun is rising, Sam is starting on his second batch of pancakes, and for just a second things feel at peace.
Then Clint stumbles in. He takes the scene in with a look of shock. His arm is in a cast and he has a long gash across his forehead.
"You made pancakes and you didn't wake me up?" He says, mostly to Nat.
"There was no getting you up, Clint. You were passed out from the pain meds," Nat says.
He steals her coffee cup from right out of her hands. She looks like she'd punch him, if he wasn't already injured.
"Did I…Did I do that?" Bucky asks Steve.
"No," Steve grins a little. "Well, you did give him the cut, but he broke his arm falling up the stairs when we got back."
"What shape do you want your pancake in?" Sam asks Clint.
"I want an arrow."
"But—"
"Arrow," Clint says. "NO WAIT. Dog. I want a dog."
Everyone gets dog-shaped pancakes and the feeling of peace last another ten minutes before they get called to save the world. Again.