Epilogue: Most Excellent Companions

Maybe it was sugar in the ice cream after dinner. Maybe it was boredom. Perhaps it was a resurgence of his trouble-making old personality, from Brooklyn days.

Nah. Bucky blamed the sugar.

Nerf assault rifle in hand, he stalked like a cat through the halls of the Common Floor, senses keen for the slightest clue of motion or sound. The best of his Winter Soldier instincts were on high gear. If Steve so much as breathed in the next room, Bucky would find him.

"Buck? Where'd you go?" Steve called from the living room.

If Bucky ever laughed, now was the time he would have done so. A tiny smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, but he pushed it down and sank against the wall.

"Are you—? Hey," Steve went on. His footsteps neared the corner between the room and the hall, where Bucky crouched in wait.

"If you don't want to watch the film, that's fine, you know." Steve's voice was beginning to take on a tone of confusion and concern. "You can tell me, Buck...I won't be mad."

Bucky's finger loosened on the trigger, and the rifle slumped in his arms. Was Steve worried? Bucky gnawed his lip and let the rifle drop between his knees. He didn't mean to do that. Maybe hiding was a bad idea now.

"JARVIS?" asked Steve.

"Yes, Mr. Rogers," the AI promptly replied. "Do you wish my assistance in finding Mr. Barnes?"

Bucky tensed up, wondering where this was headed.

"Yeah, actually. Thanks," said Steve as he kept walking. "Do you know where he—? Oh."

Steve had stepped into the hall, and now Bucky looked him in the eye. Bucky figured that he could look neither innocent nor dignified, sitting on the floor with a Nerf gun, so he didn't try.

"Uh..." began Steve.

"I suppose you have no more need of my assistance," JARVIS noted dryly.

"Uh—yeah," Steve answered the ceiling. "I think I've got it from here, thanks. What are you doing?" he asked Bucky.

Bucky raised the muzzle of his Nerf gun an inch. He shot at Steve.

"Ow!" Steve exclaimed as a little streak of blue pinged him in the stomach. "What...?"

Bucky grinned. He shot Steve again, this time in the arm.

"Hey!" At this point, Steve was laughing. "Stop it, jerk, that's not—! Oh. Uh-oh."

Bucky got to his feet and leveled the rifle at Steve.

It was a face-off. Super-soldier against super-soldier, friends turned enemies—the men out of time on opposite sides once again.

"Okay, but I get a head start," demanded Steve.

In answer, Bucky riddled his chest and side with foam bullets.

"Ow! Hey! Stop it! Stop it, Buck!" Steve threw both arms over his head and took off running. Bucky gave chase, speedily overtaking yards of the Common Floor carpet. He didn't miss a beat; nor did he miss his target.

Steve's super-soldier speed proved insufficient. Bucky watched as he dove over the back of a couch and came up with a throw pillow, flicking it into the line of his shots like a shield.

Bucky paused as Steve stared down at him from his place on the cushions. The back of the couch stood between them like a barrier. For a moment, it crossed Bucky's mind how unbelievably stupid this was.

Then Bucky gave chase, pushing Steve down the couch cushions and onto the coffee table as Bucky climbed up the couch himself. Steve continued to block Bucky's shots with the pillow, flicking them back in a crisscross rain of blue.

A loud crack and boom sounded on the roof of the Tower, and all the indoor lights flickered.

Bucky whirled around, planting himself next to Steve.

"I have returned, my friends!" bellowed Thor, shouldering through the elevator doors.

His scrutinizing gaze rested a long time on Steve and Bucky—both of them standing on Tony's coffee table—and then Thor added, "And it seems I choose to make my appearance at a most inopportune time."

"Uh, no, Thor, not at all," replied Steve, dropping the pillow and striding forward with a wave at Bucky to stay behind. "Good to see you're back. This is—"

"Greetings to you, friend Steven!" cried Thor, wringing his hand. "And friend James!" Before Steve or Bucky could react, Thor swerved around the couch and pulled Bucky's left hand firmly into his grip.

His left hand. His metal hand. Bucky's eyes turned to saucers, and he couldn't breathe.

"Heimdall has been watching the events of Midgard closely," Thor went on, grinning from ear to ear, "and what he does not see, I have heard from Steven. I congratulate you most heartily on your freedom and your swift recovery!"

"Eh—I..." stammered Bucky, his voice dead in his throat. "Thank you?"

"You are most welcome."

Sweeping his cape behind him, Thor marched off to the kitchen, booming, "Continue with your enterprise! As for me, I am famished."

And with the distant slam of the fridge door, Bucky came back to his senses.

He glanced down and gave an experimental twist of his left wrist, on the hand that nobody touched—and he felt a tiny smile tug at his face.

"He's nice," Bucky whispered.

Steve had been running his fingers through his hair. "What?" he asked with a slightly breathless tone. "Nice—yes, he's nice," agreed Steve. "Just...loud."

Bucky paused, thinking over what Thor had said. He didn't know who Heimdall was, or what (or where) was Midgard, but a more important question occurred to him.

"Why does he care?" It wasn't broken or disbelieving, just curious. "I...I don't know him," Bucky went on, turning to Steve. "Why would he care that I'm free now?"

Steve had an extraordinary look on his face. "Because...because no one deserves to go through the things they did to you," he managed.

Bucky glanced down at his metal arm.

"And—he's right, you are recovering. That's worth being proud of," Steve continued, raking his hair again. "Maybe—I don't know, you're my friend, so everyone on the team respects you just for that. But I think they want to make you welcome, too. Just...for the person you are."

Bucky glanced up again.

I'm worth something?

It seemed so simple, yet it was such a heady thought that he couldn't think about all it meant at the moment. He just stared into the kitchen after Thor.

"You can go ask him, you know," Steve said softly. "Maybe he'll tell you."

Indecision flitted around in Bucky's mind for a moment before he made up his mind, nodded, and stepped off of the coffee table. The Nerf gun was still in his hand.

When Bucky entered the kitchen, Thor sat on a bar stool at the kitchen island, finishing off the last two mouthfuls of microwave lasagna.

Bucky wasn't sure whether to find this unusual or not.

"Ah, friend James!" Thor greeted him before swallowing. "Did you wish to speak to me?"

Yep. Definitely unusual. Yet Thor had such a direct way of talking that it disarmed a lot of Bucky's apprehensions. Bucky glanced down at the Nerf gun in his hands and then held it out.

"D-d'ya know how to shoot one of these?" he asked.

Thor perched his elbow on the island and stroked his short beard, carefully inspecting the Nerf gun. "I am afraid I have no such prior skill," he admitted. Thor then turned an equally scrutinizing look onto Bucky. "And for what reason would you inquire after this?"

Bucky brought the Nerf gun back close to his chest.

"You gotta help me get Steve," he stated.

Thor roared in laughter and slammed the island with his fist. "Excellent!" he cried. "I would be honored to join you in this most noble enterprise! Show me the ways of your plastic device."


Thor found the small, orange "Nerf" guns to be most excellent playthings. The device that James lent him was very successful in annoying Steven, and causing him to flee.

"This is most invigorating!" declared Thor as he and James chased Steven through the Common Floor. Unfortunately, his gun ceased to fire its bullets.

"Friend James," he called, "the blue missiles in my device have expired."

"Jus' keep runnin'," James panted back, giving chase to Steven still. Yet within moments, his gun too ceased to fire, and James halted in his steps.

Steven jogged to a halt, glancing back at James and Thor. Yet it was obvious that his gaze was focused on James. The expression of the latter bordered closely on fear, so that Thor was nearly concerned for him. Yet James' face soon gained a cautious smile.

"You gonna chase me?" asked James, his voice low.

"Yeah," returned Steven, sporting a mischievous grin. "You gonna run?"

The smile broadened. "Yeah."

"Then start runnin'!" challenged Steven, and he dove for the fabric of James' shirt as the latter took off running, abandoning the orange device.

Thor chuckled, reminded for a moment of such chases between his young self and his raven-haired little brother. The nostalgic image was soon broken when Steven tackled James onto a couch.

Thor roared in laughter, adding to the sound of Steven and James' quieter mirth. So Steven helped James to his feet, and pulled him then into his arms and a warm embrace.

Thor smiled and turned, deciding to give the brothers in arms some privacy. And so, he left the room.

"I grudge you not, my friends," said he. "You have most excellent companions here."

The End!


A/N: Yaaay, Steve and Bucky hug! *throws confetti prepared for the occasion* And that's it! Thanks so much to everybody who read, reviewed, favorited, and followed this piece. It really means a lot, and I hope I put as big a smile on your face as you put on mine.

Also, cheers for Thor! He's a sweetie.

Reviews are hugs. They're awesome.