So, I can fully admit when I have a problem. I was on my home from the store, with yet another bag of pumpkin spice coffee (I hadn't seen this brand before!), when the idea for this part of the story came to me. So, while I may have enough pumpkin spice coffee to last until next fall, it seems to be good for the creative muse also.

I completely blame Jadzia_Bear for the tasing scene.


Darcy took a deep breath, counted to ten, and then decided that it really wasn't that important in the scheme of things. Right? A girl could totally live with having to put the toilet seat down every single freaking time she wanted to use it. Right?

Then again…

"I'm sure it can't possibly be that hard to remember to put the freaking seat down!" she called out the bathroom door, before shutting it firmly.

Adjusting to a new roommate was challenging. Bucky was a little skittish, like that recently tamed wild animal that still wasn't really sure why you were feeding it and caring for it. Both Darcy and Steve had taken extended leaves of absence from their jobs, barring any emergencies of course, in order to help him settle in. And he was doing very well.

Darcy, on the other hand, was having a tougher time adjusting to even more testosterone in the apartment.

So, okay, Bucky was sort of like her and Steve's love child. They'd raised him from the crazed psychopath he'd been, and now he was like an annoying teenager, complete with mood swings and temper tantrums. His little taste of freedom wasn't enough, and he constantly tested the limits.

"Why can't I go out by myself?" he had asked when they first arrived home. To Darcy, it had felt like coming home from the hospital with an overgrown newborn.

Steve at least remained patient. "S.H.I.E.L.D has a file on you that's almost too long to read, Buck. They're not convinced that the Winter Soldier is gone. The deal to get you out of confinement was that you can't be alone. At least not for awhile."

This apparently had encouraged Bucky to wander around the apartment, moving things, taking other things apart, and completely disrupting the normal order of Darcy's life. And since he did it all with that damnable smirk, she knew very well that he was trying to be disagreeable.

When she confronted him about it, he'd grinned even more. "Just trying to learn about things, pumpkin. All this is new to me."

She'd stared hard at him. "You are so full of shit it's a wonder that your eyes aren't brown."

He had winked and went off to rearrange all the dishes in the kitchen. She heard him doing it, but chose not to acknowledge it. He wanted the attention, and she wasn't going to give it to him.

Steve was too delighted at having his best friend back to call him out on his irritating behavior. "He'll calm down," he assured Darcy, as she reordered the dishes

"Was he always this challenging?" she asked in exasperation, finding dirty dishes in the cabinets, and clean dishes in the sink, still wet from the sprayer. The sprayer itself stuck out at an odd angle, with a rough knot tied in its hose.

Steve rolled his eyes to the ceiling in thought, then finally shrugged with a sheepish expression. "Frequently."

Bucky also apparently thought it was hysterical to call her pumpkin, in a nod to how she had connected to him. The first dozen times she heard it, Darcy just rolled her eyes, but it did grow on her. After all, she had tamed him with pumpkin spice coffee, which really was kind of funny.

She was used to Steve's nightmares by now, and knew enough to interrupt them only from a safe distance, but she wasn't prepared for the first night Bucky woke up screaming. She bolted out of bed and to his room, only to narrowly avoid a shoe that was thrown at her head.

Bucky was crouched in the corner of his room, other shoe in his hand, still locked in a dream. He was snarling at her in another language, eyes wild and crazed.

Steve dashed past her and threw a glass of ice water in Bucky's face. It had the desired reaction – Bucky sputtered in shock for a few seconds, then shook his head, blinked several times, and then just seemed to collapse in on himself. Steve moved in to sit beside him, one arm around his shoulders, murmuring a quiet reassurance. Darcy joined them, sitting on Bucky's left, holding on to the cybernetic arm. That always seemed to help settle him.

The raw emotion on Bucky's face reminded Darcy that he had been through hell, and left her feeling somewhat more tolerant of the testing behavior. A little bit.

Bucky finally looked up at them. "What will you do?" he asked in a strangled voice. "If I wake up like that and can't break out of it?"

"I'll tase you in the balls, Barnes," Darcy replied cheerfully, patting his metal forearm. "Bet that will reset your brain." She noticed the open mouthed disbelief from both and shrugged. "What? I I freak out easily. He starts speaking in tongues again and I'll give him a reason to stop." She pointed her finger at Barnes like it was a gun, and made a sizzling noise.

When they both crossed their legs, she tried not to laugh.

"Stark totally upgraded my taser, by the way, so it will be enough to put you down."

They did talk about it seriously later on. Both Bucky and Steve were convinced that it could happen. If Bucky's mind couldn't pull free of the dream, if he was stuck as the Winter Soldier, he would immediately identify the two of them as his captors, and react appropriately. He would attempt to neutralize them. Darcy listened, trying not to be scared. In a very short time, Bucky had wormed his way into her heart, and she wouldn't give up on him. It would absolutely kill Steve if she did.

None of them was expecting it to happen, and the hope was that it didn't.

Usually, it was one of the guys who struggled with sleep. Darcy was pretty used to that now, after three weeks of having a new roommate. Like Steve, Bucky had a tendency to wake up screaming, or pace around the apartment all night. But for once, Darcy was the one struggling with insomnia, staring up at the ceiling in the dark while holding on to Steve's slumbering form. He had been called out with the Avengers today, and it hadn't been pretty. Three New York policemen had lost their lives, and another two were in critical condition. The group responsible was apparently linked to Steve and Bucky's past, and it had brought up a lot of suppressed memories.

Bucky's face, when he heard who was responsible, had drained of color, taking on a haunted expression that made Darcy's stomach clench. For all that he was an infuriating scoundrel most of the time, she sometimes almost forgot why he was with them. But his reaction to Steve's news reminded her, forcefully, that he'd lived through hell.

Instead of talking to either her or Steve, Bucky had retreated to his room. Darcy checked in on him once, to find him lying on his bed, hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. It was…disturbing. There was no music playing, and the TV was off, so he had no distractions from his thoughts.

"Hey Barnes," she called lightly. "Everything okay?"

He nodded. "Just fine, pumpkin. But the punk is probably taking it pretty hard, about those policemen. Worry about him."

It was clearly a dismissal, so she left him alone with his thoughts, and bullied Steve into the shower. He was upset, as Bucky had predicted, and it had taken a bit of pampering for him to relax enough to fall asleep. She couldn't drop off, though. There were too many feelings and frustrations for her boyfriend and his best friend that were running through her mind. So she just stared up into the darkness, holding Steve and taking comfort in his warmth.

The slightest creak of floorboards caught her attention, followed by the tiniest of sounds as a door was pushed open. It was close, closer than the outside door, so it had to be Bucky's door, but no lights were on. Both he and Steve were adamant about that. If they tried to sneak around, the other one reacted poorly, so it was just better to turn on lights and do things as usual. This? This screamed out that something was very wrong.

Suddenly, all those warnings from both Steve and Bucky flashed in Darcy's head, and her heart started pounding so hard she couldn't hear anything else. Her taser was on the bedside table, and she snapped a hand out to grab it. She angled it toward the door, hidden behind Steve's shoulder, and squinted through the dark. Everything was blurry without her glasses, and this was possibly like the most cliché horror movie ever, and her poor heart was just going to burst. It was pounding so hard she could practically taste it.

Her knee rose to poke into Steve's side, trying to rouse him, but he was deeply asleep and didn't stir. Figures.

The floorboards creaked in succession, coming ever closer. Darcy was almost panting, muscles so tense she was shaking. Her mouth was open so she could breathe silently, and draw in enough air to keep from passing out. The taser was clenched so tightly that her hands ached.

When she saw the darker than dark shadow at the door, Darcy was pretty sure her heart exploded. She tried to remember that she had survived a killer robot and a dark elf invasion, but this was more terrifying because of its proximity. This was Bucky, or rather some shattered remnant of his former sociopathic life that was stalking into their room. And he was stalking, gliding sideways like a cat ready to pounce. There was something in his hand, but she couldn't make out what it was in the dim light from the window. He was completely and utterly silent and terrifying.

Unfortunately for him, he made the mistake of moving toward Steve first.

"Wrong move," she told him as she lifted the taser over Steve's shoulder and fired.

Bucky, or the Winter Soldier, or whoever the hell he was at the moment, grunted softly, and then dropped to the floor, limbs twitching. Darcy elbowed Steve sharply while trying to force air back into her lungs. That had been too real.

"Huh? What?" Steve's voice was adorably sleep confused.

"Some super soldier," Darcy accused in a shaky voice. "How did you survive in the war?" She really needed him awake and alert right now, because that had possibly been the scariest thing ever, and she wanted to know her superhero boyfriend was ready to protect her.

Steve inhaled against the pillow. "What are you talking about?"

"Wake the hell up, would you?" she snapped.

Her sharp tone did the trick, and Steve went from dopey just woke up to bouncing out of bed in a ready stance. He landed on Bucky, but rolled and tumbled smoothly across the room. Only Captain freaking America could make falling on his face look intentional and graceful at the same time. Darcy hated him sometimes, just for that.

He ended his tumble in a crouch and whirled to confront his best friend, who was still out cold and sprawled on the floor. Then he looked up at Darcy, sitting up in bed with taser clenched in both hands, white knuckles and all.

"Are you okay?"

"What do you think?" she squeaked. "That was terrifying, Steve. Like every horror movie ever where the killer stalks the star. He was stalking us! Like a freaking oversized cat or something." She shuddered hard, taser still aimed at the twitching body on the floor.

Steve rose to his feet and was moving toward her when Bucky groaned. They both tensed, looking at the man on the floor. He was stirring slowly, still twitching, and finally rolled to one side, real hand and cybernetic hand coming down to cradle his groin.

"You tased me in the balls," Bucky groaned, knees drawing up in a fetal position. "Shit, pumpkin, that hurt!"

Her breath whooshed out of her in relief, matching Steve's own exhale. "I warned you," she said shakily. "You were stalking us. That was so completely uncool." Then, his gentle rocking on the floor made her feel a little bad. "I'm sorry?"

"I'm not," he replied, voice still strained. "You were right. It brought me back. Damn punk. Please tell me she did that to you at least once. And that it hurt."

Steve laughed. It was a little tentative, but almost like a signal that all was okay. Darcy relaxed a little, and unwound her fingers from her taser. She placed it back on the nightstand, and then, conscious of her current state of not-very-dressed, tugged the bed sheets up to her chest. Not that Bucky was looking, since he was still curled up in a fetal position, but she didn't want to be flashing the girls at him. And her loose camisole was practically see-through.

Steve saw her move and smiled tiredly. He took the two steps necessary to reach the bedroom door, and snagged Darcy's robe that hung on a hook. He tossed it to her, then made his way over to Bucky.

"You ready to get up, jerk?" He toed Bucky in the hip.

"She fried my balls. What do you think?"

Darcy slid out of bed on the opposite side to the two men and pulled her robe on. She padded around the foot of the bed to stand at Steve's side, looking down at Bucky in sympathy. "I am sorry, Barnes."

His real hand flapped dismissively at her, so Darcy decided to make coffee. She'd stocked up on pumpkin spice before they moved Bucky in, and figured that would be her best chance at apology. "Gonna make coffee," she advised, and then slipped out of the bedroom, allowing Bucky to have some dignity while he recovered.

He definitely had a coffee problem that she was probably the cause of. She liked coffee just fine, but not at all times of the day. Bucky, on the other hand, liked to keep drinking it all day long. Part of that was to prevent sleep, she thought. His sleep didn't often come without nightmares, and those nightmares haunted him. Coffee helped prevent sleep, so he took advantage of it.

The smell of pumpkin spice coffee helped soothe her nerves. She hadn't been exaggerating when she'd told Steve that the whole incident had been terrifying. Her heart was still thumping harder than normal, and she could still see that silent stalking shadow moving toward them. It had worn Bucky's outline, but it hadn't been him at all, and she wondered how much it must have hurt Steve to see his best friend before he was deprogrammed.

She pulled their coffee mugs out of the dishwasher. Bucky had stopped rearranging things after his first week with them, so she no longer had to search for things. They remained where she put them. Except for the toilet seat. That appeared to be a continuing battle.

When they appeared in the kitchen, Bucky had a noticeable bowlegged walk and Darcy felt just awful.

"I'm really sorry, Barnes."

He propped a hip against the counter, tired eyes staring into hers. "I told you, pumpkin – I'm not. I don't want to be that thing anymore. Whatever it takes to shock me out of it is good." He looked down at his coffee mug, then back up at her. Waiting.

It was the strangest thing, and Darcy figured it was because of her part in his deprogramming. Certain patterns of behavior had been established, and maybe he felt a superstitious fear that if they did things differently, he would revert. He would not pick up the coffee mug on his own. Ever. They would stare, having a silent contest of wills, until he either made grabby hands, or she got tired of waiting. Then she would lift the mug and hand it to him.

After tasing him in the balls, she wasn't going to make him wait. Darcy lifted the mug and deposited it into his slightly twitching hands. Aftereffects of the tasing, or the prelude to grabby hands, she wasn't quite sure. Seeing the peace that came over him while sipping the coffee totally made her feel a little better.

"So," she mused, taking a sip of her own. "How do we prevent this in the future? Because if I hadn't been awake…"

Steve obviously had something in mind that he wasn't too thrilled about, judging by the thoughtful expression followed by thinned lips.

"What?" Darcy prompted him. "You've already thought of something."

He nodded. "But I don't really like it. Stark offered awhile back, and then again when he found out we were moving Bucky in with us."

Darcy blinked. "Jarvis," she guessed.

Steve sighed. "Buck and I have been talking about the possibility since he got here. Any normal warning systems could easily be dismantled by that part of him. But not Jarvis."

"It's probably the only option," Bucky admitted softly. "I'd…I'd feel a lot better with something that put me down right away, or wake Steve up right away."

Darcy looked down into her coffee mug as she took a sip. She could understand why Steve didn't like the idea. Tony Stark didn't have a lot of respect for privacy, and installing his AI butler could compromise their private life. But Bucky was right. They needed to have something to take instant action, and Jarvis would be the most reliable piece of technology to monitor Bucky.

She looked back up to see Steve and Bucky staring at each other, parts of their faces twitching or moving. "Stop the silent talking thing," she grumped. "I don't speak the language and it's annoying."

Bucky flashed a tired grin. "Comes from growing up together, pumpkin. And from fighting a war together. You have to be able to communicate silently, or something unexpected you did could get you or your buddies killed."

The sound of Steve's coffee mug dropping to the floor and shattering was deafening. Darcy looked up at him sharply, seeing the stricken expression on his face, like someone had stabbed him through the heart. She stepped toward him but Bucky was much faster. He slid into Steve's space, one hand curling around the back of his neck, the other falling onto Steve's shoulder. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Steve's.

"It wasn't your fault," Bucky whispered fiercely, knocking his forehead against Steve's, face twisting with suppressed emotion. "Don't blame yourself. Don't you dare."

Steve's sorrow hit Darcy hard. She gasped and blinked back tears, wanting to go to him, but recognizing that they needed this moment. It had been brewing since Bucky first reached out to his best friend. They hadn't talked about his 'death' and Steve felt a shit-ton of guilt about it.

"I couldn't save you," he said thickly, body shaking. "I should have been able to save you!"

Bucky's smile shone through his own sudden tears. "You did. So many times. I made my own choices, punk. I chose to follow you. I still will. Into hell if necessary."

Darcy stood silently, tears pouring from her own eyes, and just watched. Steve, always a rock, always putting his own feelings aside for the good of others, couldn't seem to pull himself together. He kept shaking, face splotched and twisted in an effort to hold back his own tears. His arms hung limply at his sides, fists clenched tightly.

Bucky held onto him, murmuring soft reassurances, forehead still pressed to Steve's. He glanced at Darcy out of the corner of his eye, and then looked down at the coffee spreading on the floor. Huh. He must have dropped his own mug in his haste to get to Steve, and there was an impressive puddle widening across the kitchen floor.

Shit. Darcy wiped tears from her eyes, put her coffee mug on the counter, and withdrew silently, heading to the bathroom closet to grab dirty towels. She'd throw a load in the washer once she cleaned up the floor.

She deliberately took her time, painstakingly pulling already used cleaning rags and bath towels out of the dirty towel hamper. The quiet kitchen was almost deafening, even in the bathroom, with so much that didn't really even need to be said. Bucky wouldn't let go until Steve forgave himself. Somehow Darcy knew that. He'd been through hell, and that would be with him forever, but he had meant what he'd said. He chose to follow Steve, and he still would. Steve needed to accept that.

When she finally returned to the kitchen, they had separated, but were still standing in a puddle of coffee. Steve's eyes were red rimmed, and there were tracks down his cheeks that told her he had finally let go and cried.

"Took ya long enough," Bucky told her, voice a little hoarse. The little shit had her coffee mug in his hands, and was drinking it. Ah, so it was okay to steal other people's mugs, but he wouldn't pick up his own.

Darcy glared at him and dropped her armful of towel on the puddle. She reached out briefly to Steve, sliding a hand along his cheek. He shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut, but leaned his head into her touch, so Darcy knew he would be okay.

She dropped to her knees and began wiping up the spilled coffee. She had brought a clean towel with her as well, and kept it clear of the mess. When she had the puddle corralled in a ring of towels and rags, she picked up the clean towel, and looked up at Steve. From this vantage point, he was huge, towering over her and looking every inch a superhero, despite the sweatpants and bare chest that were his usual bedtime clothes. Even with his hair sticking out at odd angles, and the slightly haunted expression on his face, he was still a hero.

"Feet," she commanded, holding up the clean towel.

She heard Bucky's snort of mirth behind her. "Pumpkin, I thought you were gonna say something else, and I was getting ready to leave."

"Shut up, Barnes."

Steve lifted one foot out of the little puddle under him, and balanced while she dried his foot. Then he placed that one on a dry spot, and lifted the other. When she was done with him, he headed toward the bathroom to wash off his sticky feet. Darcy didn't laugh at the small suction sound his feet made with every step. She wanted to, but Steve was obviously still working through quite a bit, and she thought that laughing right now wouldn't really be appropriate.

She pivoted on her heels, towel ready for Bucky. He was already waiting for her, one foot stuck out in front of him, dripping coffee onto a dry spot on the floor. Darcy dried one foot, and then the other, and then continued to dry the floor while Bucky watched her, still sipping her coffee. When she was mostly done, Darcy picked up the wettest towel and slapped it into Bucky's stomach.

"Here's your coffee," she told him, snatching her mug back out of his hands.

The towel fell back to the floor with a wet plop, but it had left a large wet coffee spot on Bucky's tee shirt, and there were rivulets of coffee running down toward his legs. He stared down at that, then looked back up at her, sagely sipping her coffee, and threw his head back to laugh. For the first time, she thought, it was free of its usual edge.

Steve returned, and eyed Bucky carefully, as if expecting the laugh to be hysterical. When he saw the wet spot, and that Darcy had reclaimed her coffee, he also laughed, even though it was a little reserved.

"Told you not to underestimate my girl, jerk."

Bucky grinned, one hand coming down to staunch the spread of coffee toward his legs, using a dry piece of his tee shirt. "She's something else, punk. I'm gonna take a quick shower, since I'm all sticky now. Make us some more coffee, pumpkin?"

Darcy wrinkled her nose at him, and hid her smile behind her coffee mug. "I will."

Bucky trotted off toward the bathroom. Darcy watched him go, and then sat her coffee mug back down on the kitchen counter, and curled a finger at Steve. He grinned, and slid a few steps closer so she could slide her arms around him and burrow her face into his chest.

"You okay?" she asked softly, breathing him in.

His arms tightened around her. "I feel a little raw, but I think I'll finally be okay."

"Good."