AN: I feel so encouraged by the reviews that you have posted - and I'm so very sorry I haven't updated recently (gah, writer's block and school are not a good combination). To answer your questions, yes it is indeed an AU. I suppose when I began writing it, I didn't exactly mean it to be, but the idea in my head had absolutely no timeline and so it developed that way. I apologise for not explaining earlier, though I think you pieced it together with your intelligent brains ;). Anyways here is part 2, in which Bucky gets lost (oh my!), Sam and Willie discover something at home, and the others conclude their shopping trip.
P.S. One of the Clint jokes at the end is from the wonderful fanfic writer alkhatine.
Keeping Up With The Avengers (Season 1)
[Episode 2: We Are Family, Even Though You're Crazier Than Me (part b)]
Bucky pushes through the crowds of people, during which his metal arm comes to great use - battering ram, eh?
He has been walking for a quite a bit now, and the store hasn't popped up yet. The sun is now gone and it's at that light dusty blue colour that Bucky despises. It reminds him of the train and that makes his head hurt.
"Oh gosh," he mutters. "It was 'make a left', wasn't it?" Bucky makes his way to a dark green bench and sits down, his head cradled in his hands. "I am not going to cry!" The hobo sitting next to him pats his back nonchalantly. Normally Bucky would have moved, but it feels nice to have someone comfort him.
"What's wrong, buddy?" The old hobo asks him, a French accent reminiscent on his tongue. "You don't look too good."
Bucky (looking earnestly at the camera): "Normally, homeless people here in New York are different. You know? These people are very serious. They have signs that not only say, 'Will work for food,' some of them have what they want: 'Baked potato, chicken caesar salad, raspberry cream cheese bagel with pineapple.'"
Sam (from background): "Yeah, that's 'cause it's the 21st century, old man."
Bucky sighs and turns to the homeless man. "I think I'm lost, sir." The elder chuckles and shifts in his nest of dirty jackets and blankets. He is now cuddled up and his eyes are closed. Bucky is reminded of a pigeon.
"Ah," the hobo says. "Haven't heard that term in a long, long, long time."
"What do you mean?"
"Sir!"
"Huh?"
"The term, 'sir'," says the old man, chuckling once more. "Haven't been addressed like that in probably seventy years."
"Really?" Bucky is interested now. "Why not?"
"Ah, look at me," continues the old man at Bucky's prompting. "Shoot! I'm an old' hobo now, cradled in the remains of others, trying to get by and live a peaceful life. Pshaw!" The hobo spits on the sidewalk. "Well, I remember the days of glory. Oh yeah, I do."
Bucky waits silently as the old man stares at the sky, an intense glare emanating from his sharp brown eyes.
"I was a lieutenant, son," the hobo says, his eyes still fixated on the grey sky. "In the last world war. Days of fighting on the front, defending our camps, and bleeding for our country. A lot of bleeding." The old man pauses.
Bucky speaks up quickly, his brown eyes widening. "Sir, I fought in that war, too."
The hobo starts laughing, a downright cackle of mirth. "For sure you did, son! Naw, shoot, if you did, you would be as old as me. Didn't they teach you anything in your history class?"
Turning red, Bucky responds bashfully, "No, I did fight in that war. Part of Captain America's special group of soldiers. I, uh, became an experiment and was preserved for the past years. Just came back a while ago."
"You don't say?" the old man mumbles, staring at Bucky now. "Part of ol' Cap's group, you said? You still hang around him sometimes?"
"Yeah," Bucky says, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. "We live together."
"Hmm, I see." The hobo eyes him once more, as if considering something, then dismisses the apparent thought, turning on his side and wraps his arms around himself, shivering. "And how's civilian life suiting you?"
"It's alright." Bucky swallows. "Still adjusting." He regrets the word that comes out of his mouth next: "You?"
The old man locks his own intelligent brown eyes on Bucky's. "Whattya think?"
[MEANWHILE]
Sam turns on the TV. He steadies his shaky hands and finds the remote control. "You wanted to watch 'My Little Pony', right?"
Willie nods emphatically from the couch where he has barricaded himself with the navy-coloured pillows. His eyes peer out from the little hole he has made, and Sam has to fight the urge to laugh despite their situation.
"Alright."
Sam is scrolling through the Netflix account users, trying to find 'Kids' (it doesn't exist), when he hears the sound again.
That creaking sound.
Creaaaaaaaak
This time it's accompanied by a loud bang from upstairs. Sam jumps onto the couch and buries his head in the pillows. He takes a few deep breaths, calming his racing heart. "Come on, Sam," he says, gritting his teeth. "You're an Avenger, for crying out loud!" Willie giggles from next to him, also hidden under the pillows.
"Alright, we're checking it out," Sam declares in a whisper. His brown eyes meet Willie's in the darkness of the pillow fort. "Are you with me, comrade?"
"Yes, sir!" Willie stands up, abruptly, knocking over the dark blue pillows, and startling Sam once more in the process. The kid grabs a heavy book that Clint had been reading the night before. "Weapon!" He says, waving it around.
"Good!" Sam picks up one of the pillows and beckons for Willie to follow him. They convene at the locked door, and Sam slowly opens it.
The two poke their heads around the corner of the door, furtively looking around.
[MEANWHILE]
Steve and Thor are now standing with the rest of the Avengers at the infamously long IKEA check-out line, Steve stealing quick looks at Thor every once in a while, clearly still befuddled about the event at the bathroom.
"You guys spent a while in the bathroom," Clint observes, raising his eyebrows. "Long time to take a piss."
Thor laughs while Loki looks rather disgusted and Steve ducks his blushing head.
Natasha shakes her head. Tony copies her, tsking. Natasha turns on him, "Excuse me, Mr Billionaire, but I'm pretty sure bathroom jokes aren't past you either."
"Woah, uh," he responds. Tony quickly snatches a pack of utensils from one of the bins stacked on the sides of the line. "Wow, look! Forks! Clint, your favourite!" He tosses it to Clint, who catches them without even looking. Thor leans over and reads off of its label.
"FURNEWFT," he booms, translating. "Sense. Or reason. Depends on the context."
"Yes," Tony says, rolling his eyes. "Thank you. Because we totally needed the translation for the utensils."
"I sense jealousy, man of Iron," retorts Thor, frowning and crossing his arms.
"NO! Why would I be jealous?" The billionaire turns away from Thor and starts a conversation with Loki. He grumbles as the Asgardian launches into how he has found the next modern weapon. "Of course," Tony grumbles, muttering as Loki enthusiastically informs him about the advantages of having a blender at home. "Of course the one language I decide not to learn is Swedish."
Sam (whispering; while Willie is silently doing jumping jacks in the dark corridor): "Yeah, so, we're just going to squirm - uh, go - upstairs. Uh yeah, and it'll be good. Willie and I will find where the source is coming from. Easily done mission!
"Am I scared? *awkward laughter* No, I'm not scared."
[MEANWHILE]
IKEA's exit doors slide open much to Thor's dismay. He is now stuck once more in front of them, while everyone watches impatiently from the other side.
Natasha's arms are crossed as she leans against the blue cart, while Tony and Bruce eye the crowd spilling out of the store around Thor. He has already gained a lot of weird looks. Wanda and Steve stand a few yards away, the two introverts already embarrassed by the attention.
"Let's get along now, Tommy," one befuddled mother says, grasping her little toddler's hand and pulling him. Little Tommy stares at Thor's long blonde hair.
"My Little Pony!" He says excitedly. Thor makes a cautious step towards the doors.
"Come on, tough guy," Clint exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.
Thor pauses and hops through. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief and begins to stride away, leaving behind Thor to jog after them, his long Pantene hair tangling in the winter breeze.
[MEANWHILE]
"Do you want to come home with me?" Bucky asks, biting his lips. "Just dinner and, you know, you could stay for the night."
The old man gives a loud laugh. "Oh, boy!" He cries, clapping his weathered hands. "Come with you and see ol' Cap again? Shoot pal. I could do that. Yeah, I could."
"Great!" Bucky stands up, dusting off pigeon feathers from his jeans. He extends a hand to the veteran, jokingly saying, "Come on, good sir."
"Lieutenant Dernier," the hobo says, gripping Buck's hand with a powerful grip. "Jacques Dernier. And you are?"
Bucky Barnes stares at the old man in amazement and disbelief. "Jacques? Jacques? It's me! Bucky Barnes." Dernier's mouth drops open, showcasing good strong teeth now yellowing. "We served in the Howling Commandos together! Remember?"
"Oh my - " Shocked, Denier resorts to his native language. "Oh mon putain dieu! Je ne peux pas le croire! Je ne peux pas le croire!" Then after some forethought, he adds, "I could not recognise you because of your hair!" Tears begin to make their way down his face. There are tears on Bucky's face, too.
[MEANWHILE]
Willie reaches the door to the upstairs bathroom. Well, one of the five upstairs bathrooms, that is. "What do we do now?"
Sam motions for him to get down, as the banging sound increases in Bruce's bedroom next door. He then puts up two fingers and gestures with them, making it look like they're crawling towards the bedroom. Willie nods, instantly understanding.
They begin to army-crawl across the hall, the carpet muffling their scraping elbows and knees.
The loud noises seem to get louder as they approach Bruce's room. Bruce's 'I am already disturbed, please come in' sign seems to glow in the darkening light filtering through the window. Sam gulps as they both stop in front of the wood door. He puts up three fingers, then brings one down slowly. One.
The second. Two.
And finally, the third finger goes down, Willie licking his lips anxiously. Three.
[MEANWHILE]
"Is dat Hawkeye?" A young woman in a woollen grey coat pauses before entering her dark blue BMW, pointing out Clint to her husband. "He has da brown hair!"
"Mein Gott!" her equally young husband cries out. "Hot guy? You say you see hot guy? Liebling, vhat is this you are talking about?"
"Nein, nein..." The woman's protests fade away as the Avengers move on. They eventually reach their silver van and hop in after loading up all their groceries - the trunk is filled rather too quickly and Bruce and Loki in the backseat are forced to hold Clint's kitchen supplies, Steve being uncomfortably poked in his muscular side by the whisk handle. Tony gets into the driver's seat and tosses Wanda his phone.
"Call the pizza place," he commands. "We'll get some to-go. And don't forget to order pickles on the side. You forgot last time."
"You have a missed call from Bucky and Sam," Wanda says, glancing at his lock screen. Missed call from 'Sam the Patriotic Eagle'
"Eh," replies Tony, waving a dismissive hand. "They're probably alright."
[MEANWHILE]
Sam rushes into the room, waving his pillow around wildly. Willie jumps into the fray after him, anxiously gripping Clint's Robots: They're Taking Our Jobs with shaking hands.
There are feathers torn up and flying in the air, and through the dark room, Sam can see a short but hulking shape. The shape lets out a sharp cry, before lifting its long arms.
Sam and Willie stand paralyzed as it moves closer. The shape emits another loud ringing screech, shakes and coughs.
"W-w-who are you?" Sam takes a step backwards to the door. His sweaty hand finds the door frame and grasps it, Willie being short enough to scrunch under that arm and hide behind Sam.
The shape pauses and seems to grow even wider. Then it charges at them at an intense speed.
[MEANWHILE]
Bucky and Jacques enter into the nearest store to ask for directions. The shopkeeper, glancing over Jacques and Bucky, seems to categorise Jacques in the 'dirty/unworthy' category, and Bucky in the 'respectable man, but with weird bionic arm' section.
The woman continues to wipe down the countertop as she relays instructions to Bucky. "No, no, honey," she says, chomping on her gum. "You gotta make a right, then turn on 34th. Just keep going straight until you reach that old Beverly's store. You should be able to find your way from there." At the look on Bucky's face, she continues, "Uh, you just want me to write it all down?"
Gratefully nodding, Bucky accepts the woman's messy list of steps and leaves the store, hauling Jacques - who seems to still be in shock - by the hand. Then, the two shuffle down the darkening street, Bucky studying the older man's face as they periodically pass a store's neon lighted windows.
"You didn't age all that bad," Bucky tells him. "Remember our bets?"
Jacques snickers. "For sure I do, Buck."
"Twenty-five dollars that you would become a scraggly haired, festering, old man," Bucky recites. "And fifteen that you would die of lung cancer because of all the smoking you did."
Jacques continues for him. "Thirty dollars that you wouldn't make it past fifty years because of partying too hard, opposed to the forty-five that Noles put up saying that you would because you would want to party longer."
Running his hands through his shaggy hair, Buck smiles. "Well, after I fell, did Noles pay up?"
Bucky's comrade's face turns blank and empty. "He died."
"Shit... "
Jacques continues. "Got shot during the 501st's invasion of Normandy." Bucky's arm slinks around Jacques' shoulder, and Jacques drapes his around Bucky's.
"I'm sorry I couldn't be there," Bucky whispers. "I should have been there."
The two friends walk down the street together, united once more.
[MEANWHILE]
The Avengers sit in the van, Tony stuffing pizza into his mouth as he dangerously navigates the New York traffic with one hand. Wanda squeaks as he narrowly misses a kid on a bike. In response, Tony calmly flips off the perpetrator merrily, as Wanda looks on disapprovingly.
Natasha and Bruce exchange glances at this, and they both grin. Then Natasha reaches over to the radio and presses a couple buttons - soon "Believer" by Imagine Dragons is blasting in the car.
As Clint sings along in his stunningly good voice, Steve observes wide-eyed, having never really adjusted to music from 'nowadays'. As "Believer" reaches its final throes, Tony pulls into the driveway and everyone piles out.
"Do you hear that?" Natasha cocks her head.
"Sounds like screaming," Thor bellows, puffing his chest out. "Shall I go and rescue whoever is making the sound?"
"Wait, I recognise that sound," interrupts Clint, smirking. "Sounds exactly like Sam when we watched "Rings" last week." True to his words, the man comes practically flying out the door to their mansion, howling, Willie dashing out after him.
Although Willie's shriek has stopped, his face muscles have refused to allow the mouth to close. Tony mutters something around his pizza slice about how Pepper was going to kill him and jogs over to the pair of them.
Sam and Willie stand with their hands on their knees, panting hard. Tony takes a look inside the dark corridor.
Suddenly, a large something pops out of the house and tumbles down the grass. Tony makes a high-pitched squeal, then turns and glares at the object of his embarrassment.
The thing unfurls its giant wings and caws.
"My God," Bruce whispers. "It's a vulture."
[TO BE CONTINUED...]