Author's Note: Guys. I met Captain America yesterday! And hugged him! No, seriously, at Universal Studios, in Florida! I turned into a star-struck child again (and loved it)! And bought enough Marvel merchandise to keep me happy for a while (including a Cap plushie).

I also somehow found the time to write this chapter, so here ya go! Please enjoy!

As usual, feedback is extremely appreciated. Any ideas for future chapters are also accepted.

Chapter Ten

It was one of those nights; the kind when no really terrible nightmares were forthcoming, but Bucky still couldn't sleep.

Any other time, he might have woken up Steve and slept in his room, but he'd tried that earlier and the blond was solidly out. Considering that a good night's sleep was few and far between for the both of them, Bucky didn't have the heart to wake him up.

So he paced around the living room, running through drills and routines in his mind, hoping the repetition would dull his brain down enough to let him rest.

But suddenly, his ears pricked up at the sound of a low moan.

It was coming from Christy's room. Curious, he walked in slowly, and immediately saw the source of the problem.

Christy's blankets and sheets were all askew, dropping off the sides of the bed like a waterfall. The girl herself was tossing and turning fretfully; shivering a bit in her sleep.

She's sick…?

Instinct took over immediately, an instinct born out of being friends with someone who'd caught seemingly every illness known to man, and a few previously unknown.

He knelt down next to her bed and, trembling, stretched out his flesh hand to touch her forehead.

By some scrap of knowledge still left in his shattered brain, he knew he needed to touch her forehead, to check for fever.

Steve lay in bed, covered in three blankets and wearing all his clothes, but still coughing and shivering. His forehead was burning hot to touch…

Christy's forehead was sweaty and hot, yet she had pulled what little of her blanket that remained on the bed around her like a cocoon, as if it were the middle of winter instead of the middle of June.

Memory that not even HYDRA could erase made him pick Christy up, blanket and all, and settle her head on his flesh shoulder. She stirred at the sudden movement.

"Daddy?" she whispered, voice rough and choked . "I don't feel good."

"It's Bucky." he replied, just as soft.

"Oh, okay…let Daddy sleep." Christy's voice sounded even more childlike than normal. "He's very tired and I'm not that sick."

"Bucky, I'm not that sick, you need to go to work! You can't keep takin' care of me like this…"

"Shut up, you stubborn punk, I ain't leavin' you. I'll get another job…"

The memory was ancient, fragmented, but it was there. Enough that Bucky knew what to do.

"You need medicine." he said firmly.

"Ty'l'nol an' ibup'ofen…" Christy slurred. "I think it's in th'…" Bucky shushed her.

"That's my job; I'll find it. You just lie still."

He stalked out of the room and into Sam's next door. He touched the man's shoulder and shook, causing Sam to instantly awake as his army training kicked in.

His eyes went wide when he saw Christy in Bucky's arms.

"She's sick." Bucky stated bluntly. "I don't know where medicine is. She has a fever."

Sam sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "I'll get it. Is Steve still asleep?"

"Yes. And he should stay like that." Sam nodded.

"Yeah, he's had some rough nights lately." The so have you was there in his tone, but left unsaid.

They both walked out of Sam's room and into the main living area. Sam went into the bathroom and returned, carrying two small pills. He filled up a glass of water at the kitchen sink, and walked over to the couch. Bucky had already sat down, Christy's head still resting on his shoulder.

"Hey Christy, wake up, kid." Sam said, tapping her arm. "You need to take your medicine."

The girl opened her eyes blearily. "Don' feel good, Sam…"

"I know, baby, but this will help. Now, open wide and swallow."

Christy took the medicine obediently. She shivered and pressed closer into Bucky. "Cold…" she whispered. "I feel shaky."

"The medicine will kick in soon." Sam promised. He looked at Bucky. Bucky looked back.

"Look, do you two just wanna stay out here for the night? Moving her isn't gonna help much and she's clearly fine with you…"

Bucky thought for a minute and then nodded, slowly.

"Okay, here's another blanket; I'll get her pillow. And yours."

"Okay."

Sam silently retrieved the items. When he came back, Bucky had pulled up the leg rest on the right side of the couch and was lying back, with Christy using his body as a mattress. He'd pulled the extra blanket over himself.

Sam slid one pillow under Bucky's head and the other under Christy's.

The ex-assassin blinked up at him. "…Thanks."

Sam couldn't help but smile. It had only been recently that Bucky had started saying 'thank you' with any regularity. "You're welcome. She should sleep through the night. It's just a fever; she probably picked up germs from somewhere. The meds will do their job." His eyes bored into Bucky's. "She's a normal, healthy kid, Barnes. She doesn't have asthma or any of that other crap that Steve did as a kid, understand? She'll be okay."

Bucky nodded. Logically, he knew that Sam was right.

But she's small and skinny and too much of a smart-mouth for her own good, just like…

"She looks like him." he said. "Not just her face, but…" he gestured vaguely, with his metal arm.

Sam nodded. "Trust me; you're not the only one to notice. It's apparently running joke in the Tower, according to Natasha. But she's a lot healthier than Steve ever was as a kid. That's one good difference." His face split with a yawn.

"You should sleep." Bucky said.

"You first." Sam retorted. "Are you gonna be okay?"

Bucky stared down at the suddenly fragile-looking child sleeping on his chest.

"I will be fine." he said, his words as strong as steel. "I know I will."

Sam nodded. "Try to sleep then. If she seems worse, wake me up. Night."

As he disappeared into the bedroom, Bucky started to run his hand through Christy's tangled hair. He worked out the tangles slowly, like Steve had done to him that first night he'd come back.

It already felt like another lifetime ago.

Suddenly, a memory struck. He was holding Steve, who was sick (again), and a woman was singing a song…

He opened his mouth and the words of almost eight decades ago came rushing out.

Gol-den slum-bers, kiss your eyes

Smi-les a-wait you when you rise

Sleep pretty baby, do-o not cry

And I, will sing, a lullaby…

Cares you know not, therefore sleep

While I watch o'er you, do not weep

Sleep pretty baby, do-o not cry

And I, will sing, a lullaby…

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he sang the song, over and over, until at last he drifted off. But instead of dreaming of blood and ice, torture and killing, he dreamed of Brooklyn streets and tiny apartments, of Steve.

Of home.

After a certain…interesting night, both Natasha and Clint had taken to showing up on Steve's floor in the mornings ("to make sure you're all alive," as Clint had put it).

When Natasha, who was the Tower's earliest riser, showed up and went into the kitchen to make coffee, she had the presence of mind to snap a few photos of the scene before her on her phone.

Christy was curled up on top of Bucky, whose arms drooped around her like a protective border.

When Bucky's eyes at last fluttered open, he stared at Natasha, as though daring her to comment.

"She was sick. I didn't want to wake Steve. Sam suggested sleeping out here for the night."

"Steve's probably not gonna be happy you didn't wake him up."

"He needs sleep."

"So do you." Bucky gave her his best "Winter Soldier glare." Natasha tossed back her own patented "I'm the Black Widow and you will die" look.

Any ensuing argument was stopped by Clint coming through the front door, yawning and stretching.

"Is coffee ready…well, hello there!" he grinned at Bucky. "That's adorable, man, seriously. Can you stay like that until Steve wakes up and gets out here?"

Bucky shrugged his metal shoulder (the one Christy's head wasn't on) up and down. "Depends on her."

"When she's sick or tired, she hates moving." Natasha offered. "She'll lay on you and burrow in like a cat." She gestured towards Bucky. "Exhibit A."

Clint looked concerned. "She's sick?"

"She had a fever last night." Bucky stated. He checked her forehead and added, "I think it might have broken in the night. I was already awake and Steve was dead asleep, so…" He half-shrugged again.

"Did you sleep?" Sam asked, coming out of his room. Bucky growled in mild annoyance. Sam was forever worried that he wasn't sleeping enough. Christy stirred, so he promptly stopped growling and muttered, "Yes. I slept. For more than one hour…maybe four or five?"

Sam looked visibly less worried. "Alright, five hours ain't bad. It's a good start."

Steve finally stumbled out just as the coffee was finished brewing. He glanced down at the couch as he moved toward the kitchen and stopped, abruptly.

And then he smiled.

It was the most beautiful, carefree, happy smile that any of those in the room had seen from Steve in a while. Bucky privately thought that there was absolutely nothing he wouldn't do to keep that smile on Steve's face. And that included some of the less-than-dignifying things he'd been made to do by various members of HYDRA.

"Aw, Buck…" Steve whispered, sitting down on the couch.

"I've got pictures." Natasha added. Steve's smile got wider, if such a thing were possible. This was the only thing that prevented Bucky from shooting Natasha another glare.

The other subject of conversation finally woke up, yawning and moaning. "G'mornin'."

"Mornin', baby." Steve tossed back. "Any special reason you decided to use Uncle Bucky for a pillow?"

"I got sick last night."

Steve's smile grew slightly brittle and his eyebrows shot up, though he was careful not to let any anger show, for fear of spooking Bucky. "And I was not informed, because…"

"You were asleep. You've been up most of the nights the past few weeks, all because of me." Bucky answered. "I knew what to do. Took care of you often enough."

"Yeah, well…" Suddenly, Steve's brain processed the whole of Bucky's statement. "You remember that?"

"Well…I remembered something last night. You were sick and covered in blankets, but it was so cold and I thought you were going to die…"

"That was a lot of times. More than I care to remember."

Bucky hmphed. "At least you get that choice."

"You get it now, too." Steve argued softly. "Anytime a memory comes back, you get the choice; discard or keep. And I can promise that any memory of me sick has a lot of duplicates."

"I'm okay now, Daddy." Christy said, though she didn't exactly sound 'okay'. "It was just a fever. I think it's gone now."

Steve still looked slightly irked at not being told that his daughter was sick.

"She needs fluids." Sam pointed out, trying to diffuse the situation. "Water, Gatorade, tea; whatever."

"Right." Steve stood up. "What'cha want, baby?"

Christy groaned a little. "My stomach hurts, and my throat…tea?"

"Tea, sure. But I thought you were 'okay'."

"Maybe not so okay." Christy buried her face back into Bucky's shoulder.

"You wanna move, kid?" Sam asked.

"No. I like Uncle Bucky; he's a good pillow."

Sam snorted. "A good pillow, huh?" He got up to get coffee, staring at the two figures bundled up on the couch. It took some kind of kid to call the former Winter Soldier 'a good pillow.' "Crazy child."

"She's not crazy; she's just got my good instincts." Steve corrected, smiling.

Now it was Bucky's turn to snort. "You mean your good instincts that nearly got you killed more than once, because you have no sense of self-preservation?"

Steve's smile got even bigger. Now that was the Bucky he knew and loved. "Who needs self-preservation? I always had you to bail me out."

Christy burrowed deeper into Bucky's chest and moaned. "Hurts."

To everyone's disbelief (except perhaps Steve's), Bucky started moving his fingers through Christy's hair. "Sh, sh, s'alright kid. It's gonna be fine. You'll get better."

"When did he become the child whisperer?" Sam muttered to Steve.

Steve shrugged. "He had sisters…and looked after me."

Sam looked concerned. "Are they…?" Steve nodded, frowning a bit.

"Yeah. They are. Trust me; I checked."

Sam shook his head. Wake up from an ice-nap and everyone familiar is dead or dying…it's a wonder the two of them are still sane. Or mostly sane.

Steve finished making tea and brought the mug over to the couch. "Here, baby. Natasha says this one's good for an upset stomach."

"It's ginger." Natasha chimed in.

Bucky sat Christy up on the couch next to him. She made a protest sound at first, but that disappeared the minute she took a sip of her drink.

"Good…" she mumbled, leaning back on the couch and coughing slightly. All in all, she looked rather pathetic.

"Jarvis…what's her temperature?" Steve asked softly.

"Miss Rogers appears to have a slight fever of 100 degrees. Her throat is also inflamed and her sinuses are clogged."

Bucky frowned. "I thought her fever broke. Guess not."

Steve shrugged. "100 isn't that bad of a fever, but…" he sighed, worry stretching his face. Christy hadn't been sick with anything worse than the common cold in the past two years since she'd been with him, but any sniffle from her would cause panic in him. He supposed it was inevitable, given his own history of illness.

Christy moaned. "I hate being sick. Everything hurts and I feel hot and cold all over! And my throat hurts when I talk!"

"So stop talking." Clint quipped. Christy glared in his direction.

"Yeah, yeah; might as well ask the sun to quit shinin'. I get it, kid. Why don't we have a movie day?"

"Really, Barton?" Natasha said.

"What? The kid's sick; it's the perfect excuse to lie around and be lazy!"

Steve looked at Bucky, who shrugged. He copied the motion. "So what are we watching?"

"Disney?" Christy asked, her distorted voice putting the greatest beggar in the world to shame.

And that was how the Earth's Mightiest Heroes (plus Sam and Bucky) found themselves having a Disney animated movie marathon.

"Could somebody please explain to me how I got sucked into this, again?" Tony muttered.

"Because the kid looked at you, said, 'please come watch with us, Uncle Tony?' and you melted into a pile of goo." Bruce said, flipping through a stack of DVD's. "Besides, you're the one who's always saying that Steve needs to catch up on iconic things. What's more iconic than Disney?"

Tony's response was an inarticulate grumble.

"Admit it, Stark, you like Disney." Clint crowed.

"Of course I like Disney; you think I'm completely heartless?" Tony cried. "It just…gets a little…sugary. After a while."

"Which is why the limit is five movies." Steve replied from the couch. "Five. Is Pepper coming, Tony?"

Tony nodded and rolled his eyes. "How did this become a thing, exactly? Your kid gets sick and suddenly we're all gonna watch Disney movies?"

Steve grinned and shifted Christy where she lay across his lap. She'd taken a shower and was feeling marginally better. "Yup. Guess so. Clint's the one who suggested movies."

Natasha nodded. "Yeah, blame it all on the birdman."

"Which one?" Tony shot back, gesturing at Sam.

Sam spread his hands. "I'm just here for free food. And The Lion King."

"Who said we were watching that one?" Clint protested.

"C'mon! It's a classic!"

Bucky, sitting next to Steve on the couch, gently bumped his shoulder. "Did…did we watch a movie…with an elephant? A flying elephant?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, we did. You dragged me to see it, actually, to get my mind off the war."

"Is it one of these? Can we watch it?" Bucky sounded a little more hesitant. He liked everyone in the Tower on an individual basis, but big groups of people could still make him a little leery.

"Sure, pal! You wanna say it, or…?"

Bucky shook his head. "I'm okay sitting still. But if I talk…" Steve nodded and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

"It's alright, Buck, you're doing great. I…I'm really proud of you. Here, hold her for a bit, will ya?"

Steve gently maneuvered Christy onto Bucky's lap and went to help narrow down movie choices.

Natasha flopped on the couch next to him. "She's pretty soothing, huh?"

Natasha Romanoff was something of a riddle (wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma) to Bucky. At the same time, she was also the only one who could understand even a fraction of what he'd been through. This had made for a few interesting conversations and an even more interesting bond between them.

"Yeah. It's nice…being trusted. She's not afraid; never has been. I like it. Makes me think I can change."

"You have changed." Natasha said firmly. "And you'll keep changing. It does happen." she smiled self-deprecatingly and pointed at herself. "Exhibit A."

The front door swung open. "I heard someone was sick?"

"Hey, Pep!" Tony called out, before grabbing his girlfriend by the waist. "You're never leaving me again."

Pepper gave Tony a quick kiss. "Unfortunately, I think I might have to. But I'm here now. And I come with gifts!"

She held up a plastic bag. "Cough drops, vitamin C packets, sore throat tea, and Coke. And popcorn for whoever's not sick."

Christy sat up immediately. "You brought me Coke? You're the best aunt ever!"

"Hey, what am I?" Natasha said, fake-wounded. "She's clearly delirious."

Pepper smiled. "Coke makes everything better."

Steve breathed out a sigh of relief at the medicine. "Thanks, Pepper; you're a lifesaver."

"No problem." Pepper walked over and gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. "And how are you doing?"

Steve sighed. "I'll feel better when she's better."

"Okay, so what movies are we actually watching?" Bruce asked. "Cause we really should get this show on the road."

"Uncle Bucky wants to watch Dumbo." Christy said quietly.

Everyone's heads whipped around to stare at Bucky, who quickly dropped his head. Steve quickly diverted the attention.

"We saw it in theaters, before the war. He actually remembered it."

Bruce nodded. "Fair. What else?"

"The Emperor's New Groove." Clint said. Most everyone else looked horribly confused.

"That's a Disney movie?" Sam asked.

"Oh, guys, it's hilarious. We've gotta watch it!"

Everyone shrugged.

"Okay, that's two, the limit is five. Next?" Bruce asked.

"Seriously, no one's picked a princess movie?" Pepper asked. "What about Cinderella?"

"I like that one." Christy said.

"You do?" Steve asked, a bit shocked. Christy wasn't exactly a 'pink and princess' kind of girl.

"Uh-huh. Cause she's like me. Her parents die. And she still wins."

"Okay, Cinderella it is. Anyone else?" Bruce said. "I vote Lady and the Tramp."

"Oh, that one's cute." Pepper said. "It's got dogs in it." she added, for the benefit of those who hadn't seen it.

"I like dogs." Bucky said quietly.

"And, last but not least…" Bruce continued.

"Does it have to be Disney?" Natasha asked. "There's a lot of animated movies that aren't Disney."

"Can we watch Spirit? 'Cause it's not Disney." Christy asked, her voice sounding worn-out already. Pepper silently handed her the bag of cough drops.

Clint frowned. "Oh, yeah, that's that horse one we watched when Steve was in D.C., right?"

"Yeah. It's good." Clint nodded.

"It is good. Okay, any objections?"

There were none.

"Jarvis, start playing Dumbo, please." Tony called out, half-shaking his head. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

Everybody actually ended up liking Dumbo. Sure it was short, and a little sappy, but it was sweet enough to make them all root for the titular elephant; especially Steve and Bucky.

"Jerks." Bucky muttered to Steve, when the other elephants started joking Dumbo for having such huge ears. "Bunch 'a jerks. Just 'cause his ears are big! Don't mean nothin'…and your Ma woulda slapped anyone who said different; too!"

Steve couldn't help but smile. Those words were so familiar, it was like coming home.

"Jerks! Just 'cause you're smaller than them. Don't mean nothin'! Nothin' at all!"

And, of course, Christy cried a little at the "Baby Mine" scene. And so did Steve, remembering his own mother.

The "pink elephants on parade" scene did give everyone a bit of pause, though.

"Okay, is he drunk?" Tony muttered. "They got away with some weird…crap in kids movies back then!"

"Just shut up and enjoy the movie, Stark." Natasha hissed back.

As the movie ended, Clint smirked back at Bucky and Steve. "So, you're the elephant who becomes famous." he said, pointing at Steve. "And you're the mouse with the New York accent who helps him get there."

Bucky just gave Clint his best 'Winter Soldier blank face'. Steve grinned. "Maybe…"

Two minutes into The Emperor's New Groove, and Tony wished it was over.

"I wasn't this bad!" he cried, as everyone snickered at the 'similarities' between him and Kuzco. "Was I really this bad? I wouldn't have destroyed a village to build a summer house! I'm a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, for God's sake!"

"No, Tony, you weren't that bad." Pepper soothed.

"But the humor…that's all you." Natasha added.

Tony glowered…and then nodded. "I'll take the humor."

When the scene switched to Patcha's village, Clint sat very still and tried to ignore Natasha's subtle pokes.

Poor guy…I sympathize. He just wants to keep his family safe. And now he's gotten sucked into something he never thought would happen…

Bruce couldn't help but smile at the ending. It was very metaphorical for what had actually occurred—the eccentric Tony Stark had let people into his life, and it had definitely changed for the better.

"I don't like the stepmother." Christy said. They were watching Cinderella now.

"She's the villain, baby. No one likes her." Steve whispered back.

"Some people root for villains." Clint pointed out. Natasha shook her head.

"You'd have to be a complete moron to root for her; she reminds me of one of my old instructors."

Everyone gave a collective shudder.

"Okay, have I ever expressed enough sympathy for the severe amount of crap all you people have gone through?" Sam muttered.

Natasha gave a crooked smile. "It's alright, Sam. We're alive, most of them are not. We survived. That's the important part."

"Okay, is it just me, or is the Fairy Godmother a really bad fairy godmother?" Tony asked later. "I mean, she only shows up when things get really terrible. You'd think she would have shown up earlier!"

"She wanted Cinderella to be strong on her own." Natasha said softly. "She only showed up because she couldn't be strong anymore…" she glanced at Clint. "That's what usually happens. Just when you think you're done for, someone gives you hope to keep moving."

Steve bumped Bucky's shoulder softly. Bucky smiled.

"No, Christy, I am not getting you a dog!" Steve cried. Lady and the Tramp had barely begun, and Christy's 'puppy love' was surging to the surface.

"I could help take care of it." Bucky muttered. "I like dogs."

"A dog might be good for him." Sam offered.

Steve groaned. "Sam, not you, too!"

"I could make her a robotic dog." Tony offered.

Christy shook her head. "I don't want a robotic dog. I want a cute fluffy one with fur, that's alive."

"Hey, robotic doesn't signify not alive!"

Bruce frowned. He actually liked this movie a lot. Natasha caught the facial expression.

"Bud' spokoyen." she hissed. The authoritative Russian made everyone shut up.

Bruce smiled.

Bucky was fairly sure that he wasn't supposed to get attached to an animated horse. Or identify with one.

Too late. Spirit was more than just 'a horse movie.' It was practically the story of his life—born free, captured, torn away from everything familiar, trying to get back home, back to himself…

Natasha leaned over. "She did this to me, too. It's no shame if you cry." she whispered in Russian.

"Not crying." Bucky hissed back, in the same language.

No, he wasn't crying. But he was certainly…what would Sam call it?

Emotionally involved.

"Gotta fight another fight… I gotta run another night,

Get it out - check it out

I'm on my way and it don't feel right

I gotta get me back - I can't be beat and that's a fact

It's OK - I'll find a way

You ain't gonna take me down no way!"

Bucky was practically sitting at attention as the song played away on the screen.

"Don't judge a thing until you know what's inside it

Don't push me - I'll fight it!

Never gonna give in - never gonna give it up, no

If you can't catch a wave, then you're never gonna ride it

You can't come uninvited!

Never gonna give in - never gonna give it up, no

You can't take me— I'm free!"

Christy was singing quietly…and he found himself mouthing the words along with her.

Can't take me…I'm free.

As the movie ended, Bucky felt hope spread over him like a blanket.

He could get himself back. HYDRA wouldn't win.

"Freedom wins over structure." Steve mumbled, grinning a bit. "Not a bad moral. Definitely American."

Sam grinned back. "Sounds like HYDRA's worst nightmare."

"Best sick day ever." Christy said, later that night. Steve was helping her get into bed.

He smiled. "Feeling better, baby? Your fever's down, that's good."

Christy nodded. "I don't feel hot anymore, just tired. And my throat still hurts."

Steve nodded. "Well, just keep drinking tea and staying as quiet as you can, alright? And suck on your cough drops."

"Okay. I liked all the movies." she shut her eyes and said, sleepily, "I think Uncle Bucky really liked Spirit…"

Steve's serum-enhanced ears caught the faint sound of a punching bag being hit in the next room over, and a soft song.

"You can't take me…"

"Yeah…that's good." he whispered. "I think he did, too."

So, several things:

"Golden Slumbers" is probably my favorite lullaby ever. My dad used to sing it to me as a kid, so I definitely enjoyed using it in this story.

'Bud' spokoyen' is 'be quiet' in Russian (according to GoogleTranslate, so...dubious accuracy there).

If you haven't seen any of these movies, watch them! They're all great! (At least, I think so...). And the lyrics are from the song "Can't Take Me," from Spirit. Awesome song that I feel like fits Bucky a lot, especially, in his pre and post-Winter Soldier days.

The "riddle wrapped in a mystery..." description of Natasha comes from a quote by Churchill describing (fittingly enough) Russia, pre-WWII.

Next chapter should be up this weekend. Hope you all enjoyed.

Reviews are wonderful things...