o0o

Chapter 10: Shouldn't Be Alone

The mark Creed had made on Bucky's face was completely faded. It hadn't been deep or particularly bad, despite Creed's questionable hygiene. Still, it was a relief to see it fully healed. Before Steve could over-think it, he leaned in and kissed Bucky where the mark had been.

Bucky's quick intake of breath was quiet, but when Steve pulled back, bashful and trying not to blush, Bucky was radiating happiness. Steve still couldn't help explaining, "I don't want anyone to hurt you ever again."

Oh, and the chances of there ever being a better time were pretty damn slim. So. Steve looked down at his hands in his lap. "Buck, I need—we need to talk about something. And...I'm sorry I didn't—" He rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. "I was supposed to bring this up sooner...I think."

Bucky pulled himself up to sit against the headboard, and a quick glance at his face showed he was listening attentively.

Steve let out a breath, trying to calm his racing pulse. "The other day when...when you kissed me, I was just surprised. I didn't expect it, and I was just caught off guard and—it wasn't bad or wrong; it didn't offend me or anything like that. But now that I've had—" He smiled a rueful half-smile. "—probably a deal more time than I needed to think about it, and, well, I just need you to know that..." He took a breath. "That it's okay. Kissing, I mean. If that's what you want to do."

Steve raised his eyes again, wanting to gauge Bucky's reaction. Bucky's face was painted with blank shock, and he said, "Oh." But then he smiled, bright and warm like the dawn, and Steve couldn't help wondering why the hell he'd waited this long to tell him, because it was as if some terrible weight had been pressing down on him but was now lifted. "It is," Bucky said, looking more solemn. "It is what I want." And he smiled again, hesitant and a little crooked as he moved towards Steve, flesh hand warm on Steve's neck and metal hand cool through the fabric of his t-shirt, and kissed his cheek. And then his jaw. Bucky's stubble rasped against Steve's skin, but that wasn't so bad, and Steve had stubble of his own, so he couldn't complain. All the while, Bucky watched Steve as if to be sure this really was okay.

Steve grinned at him to show him it really was, then ruffled his sleep-messed hair. "Let's get ready for breakfast, all right?"

o0o

With Skye and Hardy settled in their cabin-cell, Tony figured he might as well go see how Batroc was doing. Steve hadn't yet emerged from his cabin, and Tony wasn't about to bother him when Steve didn't actually work for him; if Steve wanted to question the guy some more, he could do it later. Like, whenever he wanted, because it wasn't like Batroc was going anywhere.

Maybe it was a bit weird—not that Tony ever cared what was 'weird'—but it was kind of fun, actually, to have prisoners. Not in an, 'oh, I should do this more often,' sort of way—not exactly. Just more of a, 'noticing the slightly disturbing positives of a situation that's happening anyway,' thing. And it really didn't seem like Tony was the only one noticing those positives; Happy was practically bursting with some sort of pride or something, because if he couldn't actually beat the crap out of the invading space pirates himself, being their attentive jailer was apparently the next best thing. Tony wasn't gonna judge.

As Tony and Happy approached Batroc's cell, Tony turned to Happy. "Hey, did you wanna do the asking questions thing for this one?"

Happy gave him a blank look. "It's your ship."

"Yes," Tony agreed, "and you're my head of security. I don't think it'd exactly be outside your job description."

Happy shook his head, smiling a little. "It wouldn't, but you want to do it. You're only offering to let me do it because you're being generous."

And that was true, of course, but...

"Look," Happy added, "I'll get to talk to him later, do my little jailer routine." He nodded his head toward Tony. "You go do your Tony Stark, unimpressed genius playboy philanthropist bit—I'll wait outside." He hefted his ICER rifle. "Ready to Ice him if he does anything stupid."

One side of Tony's lips turned up. "I don't think I actually pay you enough."

Happy shrugged. "Honestly, I'd watch your back just because you're my friend." His grin was small and crooked. "I certainly wouldn't say no to a raise, though."

Tony's brow furrowed, and he took a breath. "I'm not actually sure I'm authorized to give raises anymore."

Happy chuckled. "No, you're probably not, now that I think about it." He let out an exaggeratedly dejected sigh. "I suppose I'll be waiting a while on that raise, then."

Tony quirked an eyebrow at him. "You mean you couldn't talk your wife into giving you a raise?"

Happy quirked an eyebrow in return. "This is Pepper we're talking about."

And, okay, yeah, that was a fair point.

o0o

While Steve was shaving at the bathroom mirror, Winter walked up behind him and slipped his arms around him, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck—giddy with being allowed this. He'd helped Steve, comforted him, after his nightmare—he'd done well, and Steve was happy with him. And Steve smelled so good fresh out of the shower, like everything wondrous and wholesome, like majestic power and terrifying grace held firmly in the righteous grip of gentleness. Like an angel—the kind that have to say, 'Do not be afraid,' because everyone just naturally would be—might smell if angels were real. And had a smell.

Looking over Steve's shoulder at his reflection in the mirror, he saw Steve looking back. And smiling—a little bashful, but radiating affection like a godsdamned halo.

Winter smiled against the skin of Steve's neck, breathing in. "I like the way you smell."

Steve laughed a bit, sounding surprised and slightly embarrassed. "That's good...I guess. And, uh, thanks." His reflection grinned lopsidedly at Winter.

Winter wanted to hold Steve tighter, to press himself into that solid wall of reassuring power, but...no, not yet; Steve was still sore from the cracked rib. He let his hands fall to either side of Steve's waist and rested his forehead against Steve's muscular shoulder. "It is good—you're good." He frowned, suddenly worried as he remembered. "How's your rib? You...fell out of bed last night..."

"Oh," Steve said, surprised. "I'd almost forgotten about the rib." He smiled. "It's fine; doesn't hurt at all anymore." The smile became a grin, all warmth and happiness. "Must be fully healed."

Well, that was good. But... "You should—your doctor, maybe you should talk to him about it."

The corner of Steve's lips quirked up into a half-smile. "I suppose I should." Setting down the razor, Steve turned to face Winter. "Ready for some breakfast?"

Winter nodded and they turned to leave the bathroom.

"Any special requests this morning?" Steve asked.

"Would you like me to cook?" Did that count as a 'special request'?

Steve paused near the cabin's door, turning to look at Winter. "Would you like to cook?"

"I—" Winter grimaced. The closest he'd got to cooking—that he remembered—had been preparing very simple things like crackers and cheese. Well, he remembered that he'd made soup that one time, but he didn't actually remember making it. "I probably won't be very good, but I think I know how to make some basic things. Like scrambled eggs. And toast." He made a frustrated sound, looking away. "If you told me what to do, it would be better."

"Oh." Steve let out a breath, understanding dawning in his eyes. Then he grinned, encouraging—trying to put Winter at ease. "Sure, I can walk you through it."

Winter looked away again, suddenly ashamed and not sure why. "Sometimes I need that."

But Steve put his hand on Winter's shoulder where it met his neck, thumb resting against his collarbone, and tried to meet his eyes. "Hey, it's okay, Buck; I'm your CO again, remember?"

And it's not like Winter actually remembered anything about the first time Steve had been his CO, but he remembered what Steve had said the previous night. He smiled softly at Steve. "I remember." Then, after a pause, he added, "Captain Rogers, sir."

Laughing, Steve looped his arm around Winter's neck, pulling him close to his side—just a little rough and filled with affection.

And suddenly the world was tilting, because this was what he used to do Steve, when Steve was small. Winter blinked to clear the haze in his eyes and found he had his flesh hand against Steve's abdomen for balance.

"You okay, Buck?" Steve's eyes were filled with concern.

"Yeah." Winter shook his head. "It was just...a memory." He offered Steve a hesitant smile, leaving his hand splayed against Steve's shirt because he liked having it there and Steve didn't seem to mind. "I used to put my arm around your neck...when you were smaller."

Steve smiled, eyes warm. "You did, Buck."

Winter frowned. "'Let's get you cleaned up'? I said that." He turned a questioning expression on Steve then made a soft sound in his throat. "You'd been in a fight; you were hurt."

Steve nodded, offering Winter a guilty smile and a bit of a shrug. "I got into a lot of fights."

Winter's jaw hardened and he glared at Steve, suddenly angry. His nostrils flared. "You were small and frail." He shoved Steve against the wall, hands against Steve's shoulders. "Were you trying to get yourself killed?"

Steve just stared back at him, surprise clear in his expression.

"I—" Swallowing, Winter stepped back shakily. "I didn't—I shouldn't—" He shoved his metal hand through his hair, tugging a little until it hurt. He wanted to kneel, to beg forgiveness, but Steve didn't like the kneeling. He scraped his teeth over his bottom lip. "Your rib..."

"It's fine." Steve was holding his hands up—a surrender. "I told you; my rib's fine. You didn't hurt me, Bucky—I'm pretty tough, okay?" He smiled a little crookedly, but there was worry mixed with the hope in his eyes.

Winter needed to be careful—Steve didn't know enough to be careful for himself, never had. And Winter had hurt him before. It was all too much, too loud in his head; Winter couldn't stop himself from shaking. "Please, Steve." His voice was rough, breaking. "I just—I need you to tell me what to do."

"Bucky." Steve's voice had an edge of command, clear and sure. "Bucky, I need you to look at me right now."

Winter met his eyes, because how could he do anything else?

Concern was flickering in Steve's eyes, but the set of his jaw was sure. "Good. Now breathe, Bucky; take some deep, slow breaths."

Winter still wanted to kneel—maybe more so when Steve was like this, confident and commanding—but he focused on Steve's face and did as he was told. Steve was telling him what to do; that was important. That was good and right. His obedience was relief.

"Good." Steve's voice was low, warm with approval. "That's good, Bucky; you're doing so well."

The praise filled Winter's body with sweet, shimmering light. A soft whine escaped his throat.

"Hey." Steve put his hand on Winter's flesh arm, his fingers soothing. "Talk to me: tell me how you feel."

"Good," Winter managed, offering Steve a look of gratitude. "Better."

Steve's smile glowed with relief and affection. "That's good." His fingers squeezed Winter's bicep gently. "Good enough to go have breakfast now?"

Winter nodded, returning Steve's smile. He wanted to hug Steve, so he did, and Steve's arms came up around him in response, sure and strong and warm. Pulling back after a short time, Winter glanced at Steve's face, a little nervous. "Can I still cook?"

"Of course." Steve grinned warmly, leading the way through the cabin door and into the hallway. "You still thinking eggs?"

Winter nodded then asked, "How should I cook them?"

Steve shrugged. "It doesn't really matter; scrambled is fine."

Winter gave him an unimpressed look, shaking his head slightly. "How do you like them best?"

Steve let out a breath then chuckled softly. "I suppose I've always liked over easy."

Winter nodded. "You're going to have to walk me through that, or they might come out over hard."

"I'd still eat them." Of course Steve would, but that wasn't the point.

Winter rolled his eyes. "I know, but I want to do this right."

"I know; I'm sorry." Steve gave him an apologetic look. "Of course I'll walk you through it." He shot Winter a soft smile. "Did you want to do all the cooking, or can I cut up some fruit or something while you do the eggs?"

Winter resisted rolling his eyes again. "Did you want to cook?" All he really needed was the instructions; it didn't matter what Steve did while he gave them. Steve always made everything so damn complicated. But Steve would probably be more comfortable if he had something to do. "You can cut up fruit," Winter told him. "Just remember to keep an eye on what I'm doing."

Steve grinned cheekily. "Yes, sir."

Winter blinked at him, a little lost. When had he started giving Steve orders?

o0o

Tony smiled mildly down at Batroc who was seated on the floor, leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest, glaring sullenly up at Tony. The pirate had tried speaking French—guessing correctly that Tony wouldn't understand most of it—but Tony had just pulled out his Stark Phone and run the automatic translator app, which was not only reasonably reliable for French to English, but was also pretty amusing when it got stuff wrong—or even partly wrong. He technically could have just asked JARVIS to translate, but JARVIS would have done a better job, and the translator app was funnier specifically because of the things it got wrong. Still, JARVIS' translation could have been funny too. But, sadly, Batroc had quickly resorted to speaking English like a normal person.

Tony was pretty sure everyone from Algiers Colony, much like everyone from Nouveau Canada, spoke English—some might speak it badly, but that was pretty common everywhere. Even freaking Jotuns spoke English. Well, the only one Tony had met did, but he'd been raised Asgardian and might have been using Asgardian 'magic' translation. The 'magic' was obvious bullshit, but their translation tech was still pretty darn good. Most of the time. Unless things like claiming tech was 'magic' was itself an error in the translation. Tony smirked at the thought.

Still, Batroc was speaking English—didn't seem too happy about having slept on the floor, but then who would be? Insisted he wasn't HYDRA, but then so did everyone.

"How do I know you are not HYDRA?" Batroc snapped. Probably thought he looked and sounded impressively angry, but the effect was more petulant.

Tony shrugged, tapping his phone against his lips. "You don't." He took a breath. "But you're the one who broke into my ship and attacked my friends, entirely unprovoked, so I think I probably have the moral high-ground here."

o0o

"How are the eggs?" Bucky asked casually enough, but there was a bit of hesitance in his eyes.

Steve grinned, because the eggs were great, yolks just the right amount of runny. "They're perfect, Bucky. Absolutely perfect."

Bucky smiled, pleased and relieved.

"But I guess..." Steve added, poking at a piece of eggwhite with his fork. "I mean, if they weren't, it'd really be my fault, right?" He smiled lopsidedly at Bucky. "I was telling you what to do."

Bucky stared at him a bit strangely for a moment, a little intense—like maybe he wanted to say something. But he didn't say anything.

Steve frowned slightly. "You okay, Buck?"

Dropping his gaze, Bucky smiled sheepishly. "Yeah." Then he looked up again, warmth in his eyes. "I'm just...happy."

Smiling softly, Steve reached out and brushed Bucky's hair behind his ear. "I'm glad you're happy, Bucky—that makes me happy too."

Maybe it was kind of a stupid thing to say, but Bucky didn't seem to mind. He just turned his head slightly to kiss Steve's hand, keeping his eyes on Steve's face.

Steve couldn't help laughing, but Bucky didn't seem to mind that either.

o0o

"So," Steve said as he was putting his breakfast dishes in the dish cleaner. "You feel up to lifting some weights or something in the gym today?"

Winter raised an eyebrow at him. "Do I feel up to it?" He shook his head, offering Steve a half-smile. "A tiny scratch on my face wouldn't stop me, even if it wasn't already fully healed."

"So that's a yes?" Steve turned toward him, eyes warm with amusement.

"You need to be careful," Winter reminded him. Steve hadn't talked to or texted his doctor, not yet.

Steve nodded, offering Winter a lopsided grin. "You're right. I was thinking I'd just spot for you this time."

Winter nodded as well. "That sounds good." It would be the first time he'd been in the gym since injuring Steve. Steve had never said anything about it, but maybe that had been part of his punishment.

"I'm glad you approve." Steve slipped his arm around Winter's waist and pulled him close, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheekbone where the scratch had been. "It was actually a pretty big scratch," he said softly.

Winter swallowed. Steve's arm felt so good, so right, around his waist. His voice was rough when he said, "It's all gone now, though."

"I know." Steve kissed the spot again then rested his forehead against Winter's temple. His voice was soft. "Good thing you heal fast." But then he pulled back, eyes down as though guilty. He cleared his throat. "Let's—" He gestured towards the door. "Let's go then."

Winter followed, brow furrowed as he considered what Steve could possibly be feeling guilty about. It's not like Steve ever seemed to have a shortage of invented reasons, but... As they walked into the gym, Winter put his flesh hand on Steve's arm. "Steve."

"Yeah?" Steve turned to look at him, expression expectant. But there was still that shadow in his eyes.

"What's—" Winter let his hand fall back to his side but kept his eyes on Steve's. "Is something wrong?"

"What do you mean?" Steve looked genuinely confused.

"You—" Winter shoved his hands into his pockets, ducking his head but still watching Steve carefully. "Something...seems to be bothering you." When Steve's face was still blank with incomprehension, Winter added, "Since just before we left the mess, when you kissed me."

"Oh." Steve sat down on a nearby bench, letting out a breath. He clasped his hands in front of himself, forearms resting on his knees. A flash of distress showed in his eyes and he quickly said, "It's nothing you've done, Buck; it's—" He blew out a breath through his lips and looked away then looked down at his hands. "I guess it's just a bit weird, bein' thankful that some evil HYDRA scientist shot you full of some knockoff serum back during the war. He...he tortured you, Buck. He hurt you and—" His voice broke.

Winter sat down on another bench, facing Steve. "I don't actually remember any of that," he admitted. Maybe it was better that he didn't. "But Steve..."

Steve glanced up at him.

"Is that evil HYDRA scientist the reason I'm alive today?" He was pretty sure he knew the answer, but this was important. More important for Steve than for him. "The reason I didn't die when you thought I had?"

Looking down, Steve nodded jerkily, misery in the set of his mouth.

Briefly, Winter pictured himself sliding smoothly off the bench to kneel before Steve, face upturned. He wondered how Steve would react, wondered if it would be okay. But it probably would make Steve blush, flustered—awkward and uncomfortable. That's not what Winter wanted, not now. So he just said, "I'm glad he did it, too. I'm glad I heal fast, that I'm fast and strong. I can use that to protect you, like I did when the pirates attacked." Never mind that Steve could have taken them all on at once—and most likely won, even against Creed—had he been uninjured. There were other threats, worse threats.

Swallowing, Steve nodded. "That's what you said then." He scratched at the hair on the back of his head. "When we finally got you to a doctor, and—they wouldn't tell me anything, but they told you of course, what they could figure out about what'd been done to you and...you told me what they'd said." He laughed softly, sadly. "You said you were glad he'd done it, 'cause you could use that right back against them."

He didn't remember, but this Bucky guy seemed like someone Steve had needed. Still needed. He reached out and took Steve's hand in his flesh one. "And you shouldn't be alone."

Steve lifted his head then to meet Winter's gaze, eyes damp. "I really don't think I deserve you, Buck."

As if Steve didn't deserve so much better. As if Steve didn't deserve Bucky, at the very least. Winter couldn't find words to respond, so he just squeezed Steve's hand tighter.

o0o

Tony was eating lunch with Rhodey when Rogers and Barnes walked in. Turning to Rhodey, Tony asked, voice pitched low enough that even the supersoldiers shouldn't be able to hear it, "Is it just me, or is Barnes actually getting hotter?"

Rhodey laughed softly, shaking his head then shrugging. He pitched his voice low as well. "I think he's doing something different with his hair?"

"Right," Tony said. Less of a stringy, 'I don't care if I look like a hobo' look. "And shaving too, I guess, though I think I may have preferred all that scruffy stubble, personally." He paused, thoughtful. "And he's not exactly Mister Giddy Joy or anything, but...he seems happier?"

"Well, that makes a lot of sense, actually." Rhodey took a sip of his water, regarding Tony over the rim of his glass. "Considering where he was when you first met him."

Tony nodded. It did make sense. Still...well, never mind. It wasn't any of Tony's business. "Hey, Rogers, Barnes," Tony called.

The two men turned toward Tony. "Yeah?" Steve said.

"Do you guys want to join me for daiquiris this evening?" Tony offered them a slightly crooked smile. "Everyone who's actually supposed to be on board my ship will be there." He grimaced slightly. "That is if I can convince Happy...and you two. I mean, the only person I've actually got to agree to be there so far is Rhodey."

Tony glanced sideways at Rhodey who smiled softly and shook his head then turned his attention to Rogers and Barnes. "You guys should come, really." He grinned, folding his arms on the table. "I don't want to be the only one."

Rogers and Barnes looked at each other, their faces wearing nearly identical questioning looks.

"What's a 'daiquiri'?" Barnes asked Steve. Because asking Tony—who was sitting right there and had brought it up—would have been totally weird.

"I think it's a sort of...alcohol," Steve replied, shrugging one shoulder.

"Yeah," Tony cut in, "it's rum, bananas—at least, I'm using bananas—lime, coconut milk, crushed ice... It tastes really great; I think you guys would like it." The corner of his mouth quirked up. "And if you don't, I promise I won't get offended."

Rogers and Barnes looked at each other again. Finally, turning back to Tony, Steve said, "Sure, Tony. What time did you want us to come by?"

"Seven?" Tony raised his eyebrows questioningly. "That work for you two?"

Rogers looked at Barnes again, but Barnes was just looking back at Rogers. Turning back to Tony, Steve nodded. "Sure; we'll be there."

It was too bad, really, that those two's telepathic link couldn't be expanded and exploited to work as a lie detector.

o0o

"So I assume Happy's filled you in on the pirate situation." Tony nodded toward Pepper's holographic image where it floated in the middle of the lab. He was tinkering with the beginnings of what might eventually become a lie detector. It's not like they hadn't been invented long before, but no one had yet been able to make one that was actually reliable. At least not all the time. And what good was a lie detector that only worked part of the time? Wasn't that the same as just guessing? But maybe he could find a way around the inherent flaws in the previous designs. Maybe.

"He has," Pepper replied, nodding. "Maria has been organizing things here so there will be suitable holding cells for all the prisoners when you arrive."

"Maria?" Tony quirked an eyebrow. "As in Hill, as in our newest member of security?"

Pepper's smile was perhaps equal parts longsuffering and indulgent. "Happy approved her promotion. And it's not like we aren't sure she's qualified." Well, that was true; she'd been Fury's second, after all. Though, the fact that Fury himself was now dead probably didn't reflect so well on her qualifications for 'security'. But...she'd helped Steve and Natasha take down Pierce and that whole 'Project Insight' mess, and Steve spoke highly of her and was pretty sure she wasn't HYDRA, so there was that.

"Oh, speaking of..." Tony smirked, glancing up at Pepper. "Did Happy mention he wants a raise?"

Pepper raised an eyebrow. "Was this your idea?"

Tony nodded his head slightly from side to side, expression thoughtful. "Kinda." He frowned at the components in front of him. "Oh, I meant to ask: how are the new medical staff settling in? Carter and...Simmons, was it?"

"We haven't had any medical emergencies, but they've worked out a schedule with Bruce, and I haven't heard any complaints. Simmons is apparently something of a fan of Banner's." A smile coloured Pepper's voice. "She's positively thrilled to be working with him."

The corner of Tony's mouth turned up. It seemed he and this Simmons had something in common.

After a pause Pepper added, "Shannon Carter, Sharon's niece, has been spending a lot of time with Rhodey's kids." Only one of 'Rhodey's kids', his son Michael, was technically his child, but Rhodey had been raising his niece alongside Michael since she was five.

Tony made a vague sort of grunt. Maybe Shannon and Michael together would be able to distract Lila with something other than getting underfoot in the lab. Not that the lab was ever a safe place for kids her age, no matter how fascinating it obviously was. What were children supposed to do all day, anyway? "Pretty soon we'll have enough kids for an actual school—to keep our new prison company." He turned his face towards Pepper's image, letting out a resigned sigh. "Since when did we become civilization?"

"When the rest of civilization collapsed?" Pepper's smile was a bit too...mysterious? But if it was important and he needed to know, she'd tell him.

Shrugging mentally, Tony bent his head back over his work. "So does that mean you're the Prime Minister?"

"Does that mean you're the king?" she retorted.

Tony didn't bother repressing his shudder. "Gods, I hope not."

o0o

Notes on characters and canon:

Michael Rhodesis Rhodey's son in Earth-83438.

Lila Rhodes is Rhodey's niece in Earth-616. Her mother was Rhodey's sister, Jeanette Rhodes.

o0o