A/N: Welcome to the randomness that is this story! It's pure fluff, as said in the summary, and just little headcanons that I thought were cute.
The inevitable had finally happened. Pepper and Tony had broken up. It had been a long time coming, and neither Pepper or Tony made a scene. It was a quiet, amicable, wistful conversation, a final chaste kiss, and Pepper was on her way to Malibu to continue running Stark Industries.
Tony was being surprisingly mature about it. He was quieter too, and it was making everyone in the tower nervous. They were all waiting for the other shoe to drop: the other shoe cloaked in sarcasm, scotch, and eardrum-shattering rock music. But it didn't. Tony spent a few days in his workshop, built a sentient toaster oven, and went to sleep for forty-eight hours.
Clint was in the kitchen when the other shoe dropped. Technically, it was a young woman with dark curly hair and brown eyes, wearing pajama pants and a T-shirt, exiting Tony's suite, but it was a stark reminder that Tony was now single and free to pursue his playboy habits once again. Clint, only having had two cups of coffee, decided he could be nasty about it. "Well," he drawled, eyeing her, "you're not the usual type of girl Tony brings home."
"I should hope not," the woman replied, giving him a cute smirk. "I'm Antonio's cousin. Isabella Rivera." She reached up to the cabinet, having to stretch up on her tiptoes to reach the coffee mugs.
"His cousin?" Clint asked after a shocked moment. There was no way two cups of coffee was enough for this conversation.
"Cousin," she confirmed, still reaching up.
Clint smirked. "You're short," he said, going over to pluck a coffee mug from the shelf and hand it to her.
"Grazie," she said, and poured herself a cup of coffee. "And I'm not short, I'm perfectly average for my family." She stirred in copious amounts of sugar and cream.
"You're like, 5'2"," he pressed.
"And Tony's 5'8". We're Italian, so what?"
"Really?" Clint asked, surprised. Although, he really shouldn't have been.
"On his mother's side, my mother's sister," she explained. She pulled herself up to sit on the counter, her bare feet kicking the cabinets.
Steve came into the kitchen still wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt. "Morning, Clint." He looked at Isabella. "And you are..."
"Isabella," she supplied, raising her mug in greeting. "Tony's cousin, on the poor side of his family."
"Nice to meet you, ma'am," Steve said politely.
"You too, Captain. Tony speaks very highly of you."
Steve raised an eyebrow. "Really? And call me Steve."
"Steve," Isabella repeated. "And yes, he does. At least, when he's had half a bottle of scotch and watched at least two sentimental movies."
Steve smirked. "That sounds more reasonable."
"So what are you doing here?" Clint asked.
"Clint," Steve said warningly.
"No, I'm curious too," Tony said, stumbling into the kitchen. "What are you doing here? You didn't explain it to me before I passed out."
Isabella handed him the cup of coffee and watched him drain it in one gulp. Then, when he'd swallowed, she said, "Pepper called me."
Tony groaned. "Why?"
"She still cares for you, caro," Isabella said gently. "And she sent me to make sure you were going to be okay."
"I'm okay," Tony said, "you came, you saw for yourself, you can go back to Italy."
"No way," Isabella said. She looked at the guys and explained, "He doesn't like to have me around. I'm bad for his reputation as a sarcastic jerk."
"Yeah, you're ruining it right now," Tony said, handing her back the purple mug. "You can go home. I'm fine."
"I don't want to, though," Isabella whined, giving him a soulful pair of puppy eyes. "Mateo is getting married to Lucina in a month and everyone's going crazy with the wedding prep and there's so many cousins... I'm the oldest of the younger ones, Antonio, you can't make me go home to babysit..." She clasped her hands. "Please, Tony?"
He groaned and rubbed at his eyes. "Fine, fine. But only a couple weeks, capiche?"
"Si."
He kissed her forehead. "Now go get dressed. Your mama would kill me if I let the Avengers see you in your pajamas."
She hopped off the counter and went back into Tony's room. A few seconds later the shower started.
Tony poured himself a cup of coffee and turned to find both Steve and Clint staring at him. "What?" he snapped defensively.
Steve smiled. "That was really sweet, Tony."
Tony groaned. "This is what I'm talking about. I'm so going to regret this..."
Steve only smiled. "No, you're not."
Tony pointed the nearest kitchen utensil at him threateningly. "Don't think that my niceness extends to anyone else."
"Never," Steve deadpanned.
Natasha showed up next, wearing lounge pants and a sweater.
Clint pointed at the zip-up hoodie. "Is that my sweater, Nat?"
"Maybe," she replied coolly. "Where's Isabella, Tony?"
"She's in the- you knew!" Tony said, amazed. "How did you know!"
Natasha smirked. "Well someone had to pick her up from the airport."
"You're all in league," Tony muttered, taking a sip of his coffee. "Not cool."
"Who's in league for what?" Isabella asked, coming into the kitchen, her damp hair loose across her shoulders. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. "Good morning, Natasha."
"Good morning," Natasha replied, giving her a small smile.
Isabella leaned on the counter and looked at Tony expectantly. "What's for breakfast?"
"Bruce usually makes it," Tony said, after a minute. "Sometimes. We don't really eat together..."
His cousin gasped dramatically. "Not have breakfast! What?" She started opening cabinets and drawers. "Sit down, have a coffee, read the paper, if you have them in this place. I'll make something. Do you have eggs?" She found an apron, tied it on, and became a whirlwind around the kitchen.
"She runs a cafe with her mom," Tony explained to the others, who were looking slightly shell-shocked. "She takes over the kitchen every time she visits. And, she'll make enough food to satisfy even your bottomless stomach, Steve."
"Should we help her?" Steve asked uncertainly, as Isabella began cracking eggs two at a time into a bowl.
"No, no," Tony said, guiding them away from the kitchen, "leave her be or she'll start yelling in Italian. She's scary when she's cooking."
They watched a morning talk show. Bruce came in ten minutes later, heard the sounds coming from the kitchen, and stopped. He silently counted the Avengers in the living room and raised his hand. "Who's in the-"
"Tony's cousin," Nat, Clint, and Steve chorused.
"She's very nice, very mothering," Tony added. "She's making breakfast."
"Okayy," Bruce said slowly. "That's nice."
"Food," Isabella called.
They went into the kitchen, and found six places laid out. There was a giant omelet, bacon, freshly buttered toast, and strawberries and cream.
"Yay food," Tony said, kissing Isabella on the head. "Thank you."
She fussed over them, made sure Steve had enough to eat, and made Bruce the perfect cup of tea. "There," she said, waving away all their attempts at help. "You can go save the world now on full stomachs."
Ten seconds after she said that, the alert for a mission came up. "Let's go," Steve said.
Tony hung back. "Bella, don't watch the news okay?"
She kissed his forehead. "Be safe."
aAaAa
The Avengers fought off the latest scourge of the earth, and returned to the tower, exhausted and bruised. As soon as they hit the common floor, they all stopped and sniffed. "Is that pie?" Clint asked, perking up.
Isabella came out from the kitchen. "Pie, cappuccinos, linguini with white sauce, tomato soup, and cannoli. I cook when I'm nervous. Come eat. You all look awful."
"Oh, thanks," Tony said wryly.
The Avengers submitted to Bella's mothering with little complaint. "This is so good," Steve said, nearly inhaling his plate.
"Can we keep her?" Clint asked, mumbling around his mouthful of pie.
Bella smiled smugly at her cousin.
Tony scowled at her, although his eyes were twinkling. "This was your great plan, wasn't it? Feed everybody into submission?"
"A way to a man's heart is his stomach," Bella replied, pouring more coffee into his mug.
"What about Natasha?" Bruce asked, amused.
Bella exchanged a mischievous glance with the redhead. "We're sisters against testosterone, she likes me already."
They finished eating, and Bella carefully pried the coffee cup out of Clint's half-asleep grasp. "Go to bed," she said, and pointed a wooden spoon at all of them. "Go."
They went.
aAaAa
She was waiting for them with breakfast the next morning.
"Seriously," Clint said, nearly stuffing the entire strawberry crepe in his mouth, "you can never leave."
Bella smirked. "You'll have to convince my mother."
Clint nodded. "We'll send Steve. He's got a very earnest face."
Steve rolled his eyes.
The elevator door opened and Pepper Potts walked in. Everyone froze and glanced awkwardly between Tony and Pepper. Tony choked on his coffee and swallowed hastily. "Uh, hi," he said, standing up. "Do you, um, hi. How are you?"
Pepper gave him a small strained smile. "I'm good. How are you? Everything okay from yesterday?"
"Yeah. Yeah, we're fine. Um..." He rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. "Is, do I need to sign something? Or, do you want breakfast? Bella made crepes." He gestured towards the table, and the Avengers were all suddenly absorbed in their breakfasts.
Pepper shook her head. "I ate already, thank you." She handed him a tablet. "I need you to look these over and get back to me by tomorrow."
"Okay."
She nodded. "Okay."
They stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, and then Bella decided to end everyone's agony. She walked over. "I'll make sure he reads them, Pepper."
"Good," Pepper said. She gave them all a brief smile. "See you later, all."
"Bye Pepper!" everyone chorused.
She left, and Tony sagged against the breakfast bar. "I need a drink," he muttered, rubbing at his goatee.
"No, you don't," Bella retorted. "Sit down and finish your breakfast."
"Who made you the boss?" he asked petulantly.
She pointed to his chair. "Sit."
He sat.
aAaAa
That evening Bella was getting ready for bed when someone knocked on her door. "Come in," she called, releasing her hair from its high ponytail and starting to brush her curls out.
Tony came in, giving her a hesitant look. "Can I, are you going to bed?"
"Not yet, I'm just going to read for a while."
"Oh, okay." He held up the tablet. "Can I work in here?"
"What's wrong with your penthouse?"
He shrugged. "It's too quiet."
She smiled compassionately. "Sure."
He flopped carelessly on the king-size bed and started to pull up the files, muttering to himself as he reviewed them.
Bella finished brushing her hair and braided it for bed. She crawled under the covers on the other side of the bed and picked up her Italian novel.
"Romance?" Tony asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
She rolled her eyes. "Dante's Divina Commedia, actually."
He raised an eyebrow. "A little light reading?"
"Si."
"You're so weird," he said fondly.
The two cousins were quiet for a while, and Bella closed her book. "I'm going to sleep. You can stay here and finish working if you'd like."
He nodded distractedly.
Bella snuggled under her covers and closed her eyes. JARVIS dimmed the lights just enough to let Tony continue reading. Bella sighed sleepily. "Night Tony."
"Night night," he said, giving her a brief smile.
She fell asleep fairly quickly, and Tony worked for another hour before Bella's rhythmic breathing lulled him into a drowsy state. Suddenly the two floors between here and his own room were insurmountably far. He put down his tablet and threw an arm over his eyes. "J, lights," he muttered.
"Good night sir."
"Hm."
aAaAa
Two hours later Tony jolted awake with a gasp and a strangled cry. The lights came on automatically and he sat up, his chest heaving. He rubbed the center of his chest where the arc reactor used to sit, the scar raised under his fingertips.
"Tony?" Bella sat up and frowned at him blearily. "You okay?"
He ignored her, still trying to figure out how to breathe.
She shuffled over and put an arm around him. He flinched first, and then sank into the hug. She put her hand over his, and he stopped. "Just breathe," she said gently. "Respire, caro mio, one breath at a time."
He took one shuddering breath, and then another, and slowly came back to the present. "Sorry," he said roughly.
She smoothed the T-shirt under her hands, patting his chest gently. "You don't need to apologize for something out of your control, Tony," she admonished. "Do you want to talk about it?"
He shook his head. He didn't even remember what it was about, now. Just flashes of falling, and battles, and- he took a deep breath. "No, no, I'm good." He cleared his throat. "I'm done with sleep for tonight, I think."
"JARVIS what time is it?" Bella asked.
"3:44," JARVIS replied promptly.
"You've only slept two hours," Bella protested.
"Yeah well, that's enough for me." He got out of bed and left. Bella followed at his heels, wrapping a throw blanket around her shoulders. "What are you doing?" he asked.
"Well I'm certainly not going back to sleep after that," she replied. "So what are we going to do?"
"I don't know, what do you want to do?"
"I don't know, it's your tower."
He raised an eyebrow. "TV and a board game?"
"Sure."
They chose re-runs of Murder She Wrote and Scrabble, respectively, and Bella made two cups of chamomile tea with honey.
"it doesn't count in Italian," Tony protested, half an hour later.
"Why not?"
He paused. "I don't know."
She grinned. "Then that's twenty-five points."
"Ugh."
She giggled at his disgruntled expression. "Can't handle the pressure?" she teased.
A shuffle of feet interrupted whatever Tony was going to say. Steve entered the common room, looking haggard. "Sorry," he said roughly, starting to back out.
Bella held out a hand. "Come join us," she offered, giving him a soft smile. "I'll make you some tea."
"We can start over," Tony decided, dumping all the tiles off the board.
She smirked at him. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing, Antonio. Just because you're losing..." She trailed off and went into the kitchen to make Steve a cup of tea.
The super soldier, now looking less super and more fragile and ridiculously young, sat down on the floor opposite Tony. He accepted the playing pieces silently and started to pick his tiles.
"Bad night?" Tony asked quietly.
"Cold," Steve replied, giving him a haunted look.
Tony draped a blanket over Steve's shoulders. "Don't ever say I don't do anything nice for you," he joked.
Steve tugged the blanket around himself. "What about you?" he asked.
"I always give myself nice things," Tony replied flippantly.
Steve gave him a Look.
"Oh you know, heights," Tony replied, keeping it vague on purpose.
Steve nodded. "Sorry."
Tony smirked. "It's a requirement to be a superhero isn't it? Some sort of traumatic incident?"
Steve smirked in reply. "I guess it is."
Bella came back with a steaming cup of tea and another blanket. She fussed over Steve with the blanket, and patted the top of his head before she sat down.
"Ladies first," Tony said gallantly, gesturing to the board.
"Please, Tony, age before beauty," Steve retorted.
Bella fell over laughing hysterically, and Tony just stared. "Did you seriously, are we seriously going to- you're like, ninety."
"I'm twenty-eight, thank you very much," Steve said primly.
Bella went off again on another round of cackles as Tony's jaw dropped. "Who are you and what have you done with Steve Rogers?" he demanded, starting to smile in spite of himself.
Bella pulled herself together and smirked. "All right ladies, play nice," she scolded good-naturedly. "I'll go first."
Steve won, even playing half English half Italian. "Don't tell me you learned Italian in the war," Tony said.
"Okay, I won't."
"Seriously?"
Bella stood up to refill their mugs of tea, and ruffled Steve's hair on the way out. "You know, Steve, I could cut your hair if you'd like," she offered when she came back. "It's getting a little shaggy. You remind me of a golden retriever."
Steve groaned as Tony snickered. "You and Darcy," the super soldier grumbled. "Is that why she keeps sending me those little memes of dogs in Cap outfits?"
"Probably," Bella said.
"What about it Cap?" Tony asked. "Hair cut? Maybe just a tad more modern?"
Steve hesitated.
"I cut all my cousin's hair," Bella added.
"And there's like thirty of them," Tony chimed in.
Steve smiled. It was four thirty in the morning and he and Tony were getting along for once. "Why not?" he said.
So that's how Natasha found all three of them an hour later. A throw blanket wrapped around Steve's shoulders as he sat in the middle of the kitchen on a chair, Bella competently trimming his sideburns, and Tony sitting on the counter swinging his feet while they talked about the merits of instituting a siesta in the Tower.
"It's completely necessary," Bella was saying as Natasha entered. "Especially with your stressful lives. Buon giorno, Natasha."
"Good morning," Natasha replied, amused. "How long have you guys been up?"
"Long enough to need a nap later," Bella replied, giving Tony a knowing look.
Natasha grinned.
"There," Bella announced, combing Steve's hair and pulling off the blanket/cape with a flourish. "I present to you Steve Rogers, 21st century edition."
Natasha eyed him appreciatively. "Lookin' good," she said after a moment.
Steve might have blushed. "Thanks." He looked in the mirror Tony had handed him. "It does look really good, Bella, thank you." It was a little shorter, less side-swept and more sticky-up in the front, highlighting his eyes and making him look younger.
"No problem," Bella replied, shaking off the blanket and letting one of the cleaner-bots zoom around to vacuum. "Who wants pancakes?"
aAaAa
Three weeks later and Bella announced at dinner, "I'm going home tomorrow."
All movement stopped. Clint stopped chewing, Natasha put down her fork, Bruce frowned at her, Steve gave her immediate puppy-dog eyes, and Tony choked on his mouthful of pasta. "What are you talking about?" he pouted. "I thought you were going to stay a whole month!"
"My mama called earlier. Nonno Roberto wants me home for the wedding."
"And then you're coming back, right?" Bruce asked.
She shook her head. "The only reason they let me come was because Antonio was in trouble and Pepper asked as an emergency. Now that it's not... I have to stay at home."
"Do you want to go?" Tony asked, completely serious.
Bella gave him a distressed look. "Tony, it's my older sister's wedding."
"And she's marrying a second tier Mafia man who doesn't care one way or the other about you. Do you want to go?" He ignored everyone's stares.
"No, but-"
"Then you're staying. I'll put you on SI's payroll and extend your visa."
"Tony, my mama-"
"She can come too."
"But the family-"
Tony grasped her shoulders gently and met her gaze. "Mia Bella, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. I can protect you."
"And so can we," Natasha piped up, reminding them that there were other people in the room.
Steve cleared his throat. "What exactly is going on?"
Bella slumped and hid her face in Tony's chest. "I don't want to cause any trouble," she said.
"You're not causing any trouble," Tony soothed, hugging her gently. "We're the Avengers remember? We cause more trouble than most of the world put together."
"Tony," Steve warned in his 'Cap' voice. "What's going on?"
Natasha answered. "The Rivera family is part of the present-day Mafia. Mostly legitimate, with a vineyard and a wine label, a few cafes and other small business, but through familial ties and strategic weddings, they're linked to all the bigger names in the Mafia, and therefore linked to weapons dealing, drug smuggling, fraud, and fashion knock-offs. The usual."
Everyone was staring.
"How did you know?" Tony asked.
"Spy, Tony," she replied, rolling her eyes.
Tony sighed. "Well, you're right. My mother, she left Italy entirely on a scholarship and was cut off from her family. The only link she had was her younger sister, Bella's mom. She was the only one that approved of my mom's decision to marry my dad and climb the social ladder. And when I was growing up, Isabella and her mom were the only extended family I had. Everyone else still holds a grudge."
"What happens if you go back, Bell?" Clint asked gently.
Bella shook her head. "Nothing really. I work in the cafe, take care of my cousins, and get married off to an eligible connection from another family. No more talking to Tony, or any of you."
"You don't have a choice of who you marry?" Steve asked.
"Not unless I fall in love with a money-launderer," Bella replied bitterly.
Natasha went up to her and touched her arm lightly. "But right now you're clean, yes? You have no information about any wrong-doing, you have no connections to any shady business deals. You're only twenty-four, Isabella, you can get out now and stay untouchable."
"You just say the word, Bella, and you're safe," Tony said. "If they want to maintain their legitimacy, they can't touch you."
She gave him a trusting look. "You promise?"
"Promise."
She nodded. "I want to stay. And, mama..."
"She can come too," Tony promised. He kissed her forehead. "Let's finish dinner, and then you can call your mama to tell her, okay?"
"Okay."
He pulled her chair out and refilled her wine glass.
aAaAa
So Isabella stayed in New York. Her mother declined the offer, not wanting to leave the rest of her children in the hands of the family, but she promised to call her daughter once in a while. From everyone else in Isabella's family there was a lot of shouting over the phone in enraged Italian, but Tony handled it all with absolute aplomb and even let Natasha have a crack at them. That stopped the phone calls pretty quick.
Pepper put Isabella on the SI payroll as Tony Stark's official chef, and she continued cooking for the Avengers and trimming Steve, Clint, and Bruce's hair. And with some quiet nudging, she got Steve to ask Natasha out on a date: a picnic lunch with all of Natasha's favorite dishes. "Can't go wrong with food," was her motto.
aAaAa
And when Bucky appeared in the lobby of the Tower, quietly asking for Steve Rogers, Isabella was the one to recognize him, call off security, and bring him upstairs. "They're all out on a mission," she explained, drawing him gently into the kitchen.
Bucky's mouth was nearly watering as he took in the smells from everything on the stove and in the oven. "Smells good," he said faintly.
She eyed him critically. He was still muscular, but he was too thin, and his face looked haggard and drawn. His long, shaggy hair hung limply around his face, and he was in desperate need of a shave. "Sit down," she said, taking out a bowl. "We can have lunch."
He ate an entire pan of lasagna in one go, and an entire apple pie. "Just like my ma used to make," he mumbled into the pie crust.
"I should hope so, it's her recipe that Steve gave me," Isabella commented.
He flinched and looked at her. "Really?"
"Really."
"Are you and Stevie..." He trailed off.
"Just friends," she assured him. "He's only got eyes for Natasha."
Bucky's eyes lit up. "Seriously?"
"Si." She cleaned up the dishes and stirred the giant pot of soup. "James," she started carefully. "Would you like a haircut?"
He started to shake his head, and then stopped to look at her, his gaze piercing, analyzing. "Why?" he asked.
"Because if you get cleaned up, and give yourself a new look, it'll be easier to move forward," she said. She was speaking from experience. After she'd broken away from her family, she'd cut her hair to shoulder-length, layered it, and dyed it one shade lighter. She'd changed her name, too, from Rivera to Stark, but she doubted he'd want to change his name as well.
Bucky nodded slowly. "That would be, good."
"All right. Is it okay if I do it?"
"Yes."
She made him sit in front of the reflective surface of the stove and the oven, allowing him to track her movements with the scissors and comb in the reflection. He let her shave him with an electric razor, and surveyed the results with a small smile. "I look good."
"Yes you do," she agreed.
"Miss Stark," JARVIS spoke up, "the Avengers are returning to the tower. ETA, thirty minutes."
Bucky stiffened so much his metal arm creaked in protest. "I, I have to go."
"What? Why?" she asked, dismayed. "Steve's going to want to see you."
"Not the rest of them," Bucky said. "Not, not Stark."
"Why not?"
He stepped away from her. "Because," he said. He evaded her reach for his arm easily. "Tell Steve..."
"Tell him what?" she demanded. "Tell him that his best friend of ninety years was here but too scared to see him? Tell him that he got a haircut and he looks great but he's never going to see you again? What, James?"
"You don't understand," Bucky whispered, his eyes glassy.
"Then explain it to me," she pressed, grabbing his arm.
He pulled away from her. "I killed them!" he yelled, turning away and hunching over, as if expecting a blow. "I did it. I didn't want to, but I did it. They-" He grabbed at his stomach, his insides roiling. "They made me do it. They made me kill them."
"Who?" she asked, a terrible sinking feeling in her stomach.
"Howard," Bucky whispered, falling to his knees and hiding his face. "They made me kill Howard and his wife."
Isabella stared at him in shock. "You- but it was an accident. A car accident."
"No," Bucky said miserably, "no witnesses. My mission was to finish them off."
She felt tears well in her eyes. "James..."
"I didn't want to," he whispered, "but they made me. They wiped me, over and over, till I complied. I'm sorry."
She took a deep breath, swallowing her own grief, and knelt beside him. "I forgive you," she said softly, touching his shoulder. He flinched but didn't move. "For my part, I forgive you," she repeated. "You were forced against your will. I will not blame you." She rubbed his back softly. "I have an idea. Go shower, get cleaned up, borrow some of Steve's clothes, and let me tell them you're here. Let me explain everything, and then you and Steve can talk, okay?"
He nodded.
She helped him to his feet, led him to Steve's apartment, and left him to shower. She returned to the kitchen, cleaned up the hair on the floor, and finished up the food. Then she paced the tiles, trying to figure out how she was going to explain this to her cousin. Tony had loved his parents, even though he had a rocky relationship with his father. But surely he would understand being forced to do something against your will?
The elevator doors dinged open and the Avengers piled out, dusty and dirty and ravenous. "Food ready?" Tony asked brightly, dropping his helmet on the counter.
She stared at them blankly, all her plans out the window. "Uh..."
"What's wrong?" Natasha asked, immediately picking up on the signs. Dirty dishes in the sink, dark hairs in the corner of the floor, a dent in the counter? "Who's here?"
Those words had everyone tensing and ready for battle.
"No one," Bella assured them, holding out her hands. "No one dangerous. It's fine. Everything's fine. He just needed a haircut."
"Who?" Tony demanded.
Bella looked at Steve. "Bucky Barnes is in your shower," she told him.
Steve turned white as a sheet and stepped back, bumping into the counter. "What?" he gasped.
"That's not no one," Natasha said calmly, a gun appearing in her hand. "Why is he here?"
"It doesn't matter, he's dangerous, let's go," Clint said, stringing his bow.
Bella stepped in front of them. "Stop."
They froze. "Explain, now," Tony said, terrified at the thought of his cousin alone with the Winter Soldier for who-knows-how-long.
"He came here, voluntarily, looking for Steve," Bella explained. "He remembers who he is, he knows what he's doing. He didn't hurt me, didn't threaten me, didn't even touch me. All he wants is to talk to Steve, and get some help. I fed him lunch, I gave him a haircut, and he went to shower. Right now he's in Steve's room and he's staying there until you all promise not to kill him."
"Why is there a dent in the counter?" Natasha asked.
Bella took a deep breath. "He got a little panicked at the thought of encountering Tony."
"Why?" Tony asked, confused.
She took another deep breath. "Because the Winter Soldier was ordered to kill Howard Stark and he feels guilty."
Tony's eyes went from confused to cold in two seconds flat and his repulsors powered up. "What."
Steve dropped his shield in shock. "What?"
Bella waved her hands vaguely. "He, okay, JARVIS, play back our conversation, from the end of the haircut till his exit."
"Yes Miss." JARVIS pulled up a holographic screen and re-played the scene for the shocked Avengers.
They were silent until the screen shut off. Tony's eyes were filled with tears, and so were Steve's. Clint looked sympathetic, and Natasha's face was carefully blank. Bruce just looked pained.
"Tony, I'm so sorry," Steve said quietly, after a second.
Tony looked at him, blinking rapidly. "Did you know?" he asked quietly.
Steve shook his head. "I didn't know. I swear."
"How would he know?" Clint asked. "He hasn't even had a real conversation with this guy."
Tony pulled himself together and looked at Bella. "And you forgave him just like that?" he asked. "She was your aunt."
"I know, Tony," Bella replied gently. She reached up to cup his cheek in her hand. "And she was your mother, and he was my uncle and your father. I know. But can't you see he didn't want to do it?"
Tony nodded stiffly and looked at Cap. "He can stay. If he needs help, get it for him. But, I don't want to see him. Not yet."
Steve nodded. "Okay, Tony."
The billionaire picked up his helmet and left without another word.
"Chicken's in the oven," Bella said, and quickly followed her cousin.
aAaAa
It took a few weeks and a lot of awkward encounters, but eventually, the Avengers got used to having Bucky in the tower with them. He stuck to Steve or Bella like a shadow, and sometimes he'd get flashbacks, but he was mostly okay.
The turning point came when he got his metal arm stuck at a weird angle and neither Steve nor Bella was there to help him. He was scowling at his arm, when Tony entered the common room. "Uh..."
Tony almost turned around and went right out again, but he paused. And looked. And finally said, "What kind of alloy is it?" He walked over to Bucky and tested the joints of the arm. "When was the last time you did maintenance on this thing?"
"I don't know."
Tony huffed. "HYDRA mechanics." He grabbed Bucky's other arm. "C'mon. We'll fix it in my lab."
Steve found Tony and Bucky there two hours later. "Can you make it lighter?" Bucky was asking.
Tony made a note. 'Uh-huh."
"And get rid of the star?"
"Yep."
"And maybe a little hidden knife pocket?"
"Sure."
"Awesome."
Steve grinned and left them to it.
aAaAa
A/N: Thanks for reading!
