Okay. I'm literally going to pile on the fluff and comfort and all that jazz. I think I have tortured y'all enough so it's time for some cheesy happiness
—-
A week after the Raft
"These are your options. See what you like best. If things need tweaks or adjustments, just let me know." Bucky nods and Tony walks over to the other side of the lab.
Bucky traces his fingers over the 7 metal arms in front of him. Lifting them, testing their weights, studying their design. He can feel the eyes staring at him before he can hear the heartbeat.
"Steve, I swear on my dead mother's life if you're here to apologize again—"
He looks up to see Steve ducking his head, sad baleful eyes catching Bucky's before they're pointed to the floor.
Tony glances up, rolling his eyes and going back to work.
"Get over here you idiot." Bucky says calmly.
Steve shuffles over and gently touches one of the arms. "You like any of them?"
"Miss my old one."
The room goes still as Tony's head whips up in surprise and Steve freezes, an expression of guilt and shame crossing his face. Bucky chuckles, "gotcha."
Tony starts chuckling and waves an annoyed hand at him. But Steve's expression is the same. Bucky sighs, "Steve, for the love of all things would you give the self-flagellation a rest for a bit? I was joking. You know? That thing people do when they're not brainwashed assassins?"
Another huff of laughter from Tony's side of the lab.
Steve's face screws up, "I just.. I am sorry, I fee—" Steve's sentence cuts off as Bucky's hand slaps over his mouth.
"If you finish that sentence, I swear I'll never wear another arm again and you'll have to stare at the amputee from the 40's forever. And neither of us want that. So, cram that apology where the sun don't shine, okay?" Steve nods behind his hand and Bucky removes it. "Now, which one do you like the best?"
Steve gives a sheepish half grin as he points out the one that has a white star painted on the upper arm. A star to match the one on the shield.
Bucky grins back. "Me too."
—-
3 months after the Raft
Steve's subconscious rattles. He hauls his brain from the depths of sleep and blinks his eyes open. It only takes a second to hear the heartbeat that accompanies his. He turns his head, looking over his shoulder to see a form sleeping next to him. Blonde hair sticking in every direction. Clint.
He scans the rest of the room but no one is there.
He reaches over and shakes him, "Barton."
"Mmm."
"Clint, wake up." Tired eyes blink back at him and he feels concern grow in his stomach. "Are you okay?"
"No."
"What happened?"
"Memories."
Everything finally clicks in Steve's still half asleep brain. Even though all memories had been corrected and everyone had felt confident that this particular ordeal was through, it didn't stop the nightmares from coming. Their brain's way of processing the trauma by shoving it into ridiculous scenarios or rehashing it as they slept.
"Oh… Anything I can do?"
"I just had to check that you were okay. Sorry, I didn't feel like letting you out of my sight."
The concern ebbs away to something softer. Steve smiles and lays his head back onto his pillow. "I'm right here, Clint. I'm not going anywhere."
"Okay."
"Okay."
He hears Clint's heartbeat slow and he falls back asleep. Steve's reminded of Morita, who could fall asleep at the drop of a hat. He closes his eyes and lets the archer's heartbeat lull him to sleep.
—-
Steve's in the common room when the elevator dings. He looks up and Tony is walking into the room, hesitantly carrying a box.
Their eyes meet and Tony squints at him. "Took me a minute to dig up. But I got 'em."
"Got what?"
Tony waves him over and he sets his tablet down, walking to join the man at the dining table. The box top is easy to lift off and Steve feels his breath leave in a gasp at what lies beneath.
"I feel kind of stupid now, that I never put two and two together. Your handwriting alone should have tipped me off, but I hated how much my dad loved you, so it's actually not so surprising that I didn't pay close attention."
Steve gently reaches into the box, pulling out a small green notebook. He flips through the pages softly, recognizing his own handwriting and even a few doodles. His memory of each soldier he asked was sharp.
"I can't believe your dad kept these." he whispers, pulling all 13 out onto the table. "I can't believe you kept it up for him— for me." Steve looks over at Tony who has almost an embarrassed expression. There have been so many times where Steve withheld physical contact. He's shoved any need for physical affection aside because that wasn't what Captain America would do. but Steve Rogers is waking up, regaining the lead in his own life, and he was tired of not speaking his mind.
"I'm going to hug you." He states simply.
Only a second of shock and a half "wuh" makes it out of Tony's mouth before Steve is wrapping his arms around him and crushing the man against his chest.
"Air." Tony requests, and Steve loosens his grip, but only slightly. After a few seconds he lets go and holds onto both of Tony's shoulders.
"Thank you. I wish I could express what this means to me. Not just to have them back, but to know someone fulfilled my promises when I couldn't. Thank you."
Tony nods, scrubbing at the back of his neck. "You know, I bet some of these people would be thrilled to know the story. You could always go visit. SI has a whole file on current addresses and accounts."
"I'd like that Tony."
"Done."
—
They decide to keep it.
Tony locks it down. Making sure that only the 6 of them have access to the memory chair's controls. But they agree, as a team, that maybe, sometimes it's good to share, and showing happy memories becomes a favorite pastime of theirs.
"Show us when you—" becomes a common phrase around the compound.
—
Something touches his foot. He doesn't react, not anymore. It's becoming increasingly common. He rubs his eyes clear and tracks the heartbeat he hears.
Two. Two heartbeats.
Even in the dark he can hear Banner's steady beat. His foot must be propped up on the bed next to Steve's. He can make out the outline of the man resting on the large chair. Steve's actually impressed that he didn't wake up to Banner dragging it over from the living room.
Then he looks over his shoulder and senses Natasha, curled up into a tiny ball, her back against his. He taps her, and she's awake instantly.
"Who was here first?" He asks quietly.
"Bruce." She whispers back, yawning. "He was already asleep when I got here."
"You okay?"
She doesn't respond and he rotates his body to face her back, leaning on an elbow and letting his eyes adjust to the darkness.
"It was mine this time." She whispers. He can hear the strain in her voice. "Just over and over again, the red Room, the dancing, the—" she stops and he doesn't press.
"Anything I can do?"
She smiles a mischievous grin and snuggles deeper into her pillow. "The fact that there's an unspoken and open invitation for your bed is enough for me."
He scoffs and lies back down, letting his back rest against hers again.
Her voice is quiet and serious the next time she speaks. "I'm being serious. Knowing we can come here when it gets bad? It's… It's everything."
His throat constricts and he lays his arm over his eyes. "I wish I'd just opened up sooner. Having to resort to being mentally tortured to express my feelings is a bit extreme." It's a joke, but there's an edge to it that has her hand resting on his arm.
"It's not like we opened up to you either."
"I know. I failed as a Captain in that aspect. I was good with the commandos, I wish I'd kept that up with you guys. My own team didn't even trust me with their needs and look where that got us."
There's a pause before annoyance creeps into her voice, "how the hell do you manage to make everything your fault?"
He's about to protest when a sleepy voice from the edge of the bed speaks, "it's his greatest talent. Our own Atlas."
Steve huffs and they fall into silence, sleep coming for each of them eventually.
—
6 months after the Raft
He's not sure exactly when he decides it. It's not really a conscious decision actually, more like, he's in the shower and his mind flashes a memory of him singing in there, from just a few months ago.
The tune gets stuck in his head and he doesn't even realize he's humming it.
He doesn't even think about the fact that he's still humming as he cracks open eggs to make breakfast. In fact, it isn't until he pauses and hears three steady heartbeats to his left that he turns and finds Bucky, Natasha, and Clint all laying a good distance away, on their stomachs, head resting in their palms as they stare up at him that he starts to question what's going on.
"What?" He asks, looking at them with his eyebrows furrowed.
"You're humming." Clint says. Natasha elbows him in the ribs and he groans, but Steve just laughs.
"I am?"
"See," Bucky says with a grin, "I knew it wasn't on purpose."
They stare at him some more and he stares back, an awkward and somewhat ridiculous sight as the three assassins stare at him from the floor as he stands with a whisk in his hand.
"You guys just going to stay there?" He asks finally, turning back towards the counter.
"That depends. Are you gunna make enough for us?" Clint asks cheekily.
"You know I always do." Steve says as he rolls his eyes.
"Then we'll wait."
"You're welcome to help." Steve huffs, eyeing the three.
"You ripped my hair out."
"You cracked my hip bone."
"You ripped off my arm."
Steve's mouth gapes open, a choked laugh escapes as he steadies himself against the counter, "Geez. Low blow you three." But he doesn't hesitate, "three omelets coming up."
It's a few minutes later when he hears a displeased sigh. He raises an eyebrow in question and the three are pouting.
"What is it now?"
"You stopped."
"Stopped what?"
"Humming."
Steve scoffs and goes back to his task.
"Please." Natasha says with a comical amount of sad wide eyes thrown in.
"I'm not a canary." Steve says flatly. When they pout more, he just laughs and sticks to his guns, "you've already used up your injuries from me as guilt, so it looks like you're out of ammo."
Clint doesn't hesitate a second before speaking, "I was raised in a circus and abused, my parents dead, and I'm deaf."
Steve's eyes widen as Natasha hops into the conversation immediately, "I grew up abused and trained to be an assassin against my will and had my uterus ripped out."
"Fell off a train, lost my arm, and was brainwashed for 70 years."
It doesn't matter that he knows all this. That he's actually witnessed most of it, it still shocks him into silence as they stare at him with expectant looks and he stares back, mouth gaped and eyebrows pulled down in disbelief.
"You guys are unbelievable."
"Believe it, Stevie."
He rolls his eyes and goes back to ignoring them, heating the pan and pulling out the ingredients from the fridge.
It isn't until a few minutes later, when he hears another sad sigh, that he relents, humming the tune to "The Way You Look Tonight" without looking at them.
As he finishes up the omelettes, he waves them over and they jump up, sliding onto the seats at the island and smiling at him.
The plates plop onto the granite and he glares at them. "Now eat, my little assassins, you can guilt me more later."
They laugh and dig in as he watches fondly.
—
He and Bucky take field trips to the addresses in the books that are within a day's drive. They meet with families and learn what has happened to the family member that Steve had originally spoken to during the war. In 3 instances, they are lucky enough to meet the soldier who is still living.
After they leave the last house, driving back to the compound, they're both quiet.
"That should be us." Bucky says, anger coloring his voice.
"What should?"
"Old, wrinkled as hell, and reminiscing about our families and our lives. Annoying people with pictures of our grandkids."
Steve just nods, which Bucky doesn't like. "What?" He snaps, when Steve doesn't say anything else.
"What?"
"You're being quiet."
"And?"
"It's unusual."
Steve huffs, "Oh, I'm sorry, do I look like Tony Stark to you?"
"Yes."
"Shut up."
"You don't agree."
"Don't agree with what, Buck?"
"You don't think that should be us."
Steve is silent.
Bucky gapes, "you really don't think that should be us." Steve shrugs, a very noncommittal motion that confuses Bucky. "Tell me why."
Steve looks at him out of the corner of his eye, then faces the road as his hands grip the steering wheel. "I don't know."
"Don't know what?"
"Don't know that that should be us."
"Why the hell not?"
Steve winces, "don't get me wrong, seeing you all old and having you annoy me about your grandkids would be great, and you will one day, but… I can't lie and say that I'm not happy with how things are right now."
"Explain."
Steve sighs. "I know it doesn't really make sense. After everything we've been through, and don't get me wrong, I wish you hadn't had to go through what you did while I was in the ice… but…" he looks out at the road, the cars passing by and the quiet sounds of the big band radio station Tony had managed to find and program into the car, "I'm happy." Bucky watches as Steve almost flinches, waiting for some rebuttal, but Bucky just feels surprised.
"You are?"
"Yeah, Buck. You're alive, you're safe, we have a team, and a home, and we occasionally, when we're not being captured and tortured, help make the world a safer place."
"Ha ha." Bucky monotones.
"I'm serious Bucky." Steve says earnestly, "I can't believe I'm saying this, and I'm sure if we'd made it back home in the 40's that we would have lived happy and fulfilled lives, but we didn't, so this is what we got. And… It's more than I deserve. Of course I'm happy."
Bucky rolls his eyes at Steve and crosses his arms, "I deserve it."
Steve laughs, a loud joyous sound that Bucky has missed, "you sure do, Buck. You absolutely do."
"We do, you idiot."
The smile that's on Steve's face is infectious, even if it's accompanied with an eye roll.
—
"Cap. Cap, wake up."
He squints against the light of the arc reactor shining in his face.
"Tony?"
"Yeah, good, you're awake, listen, I've been thinking. Beck was insane, but having a tracker on everyone might not be the worst idea. See, if it's just in your uniform and your boots and your shield than if you are on a mission without them then it's useless, like with Ross—"
"There's a tracker in my boots?"
"Yes, shut up. We could make it so minor. Tiny. And I would make sure it would never be hackable. Like only we—" Tony makes a waving gesture "could access the coordinates, I just think —"
"Woah, woah." Steve says, pushing himself up and leaning against his headboard. He takes in the man in front of him and can smell the waves of caffeine coming off him. "When's the last time you slept?"
Tony looks up and it's Friday who responds, "33 hours ago."
"Tony." Steve says firmly, "we talked about this, and you agreed. No more running yourself ragged. You have to take care of yourself."
"Yeah, but I got this idea and I got to work it out. it won't let me sleep."
"Okay, tell me about it."
Tony leans back, surprise across his face. "You want me to explain it?"
"Do you think it's a good, reasonable idea that will help the team?"
"Yeah."
"Then let's hear it."
Tony glances at the clock, which says 3:24 a.m., "you sure?"
Steve crosses his arms and feels something settle in his chest, the way the team has been interacting recently has been a whole new revelation of possibilities. Not just coworkers, but actual teammates. "Yeah, Tony. I'm all ears."
The man pulls a phone out of his pocket and starts projecting diagrams, explaining the skin adhesive patch he'd been working on, harder to spot by the bad guys, and guaranteed water, dirt, and blood proof.
Steve listens intently as Tony explains the more scientific parts of it for quite a while. He watches with humor as Tony gets distracted and starts working in silence, tapping on the phone, mumbling and muttering just like Howard used to do.
Steve watches as Tony's eye's start to droop, he reaches out and catches the phone as Tony's grasp on it loosens. Tony drifts off to sleep, his body at an awkward angle. Steve shifts, adjusting him to lay more comfortably. Steve feels an ounce of unsurety. Tony's never slept next to him in his bed. Bucky, Clint, and Natasha have no qualms and squash up against him all the time, but both Bruce and Tony have slept in a chair off to the side or on the floor.
Steve slides off the bed, maneuvers Tony into his space, and grabs a pillow and blanket from his living room and settles on the floor next to his bed.
He falls asleep to the sounds of Tony mumbling about scientific names for adhesives.
—-
He's showering and singing "La Vie en Rose" when he hears the heartbeats again.
"Hey!" He shouts, "any requests?" He says it snarkily, as a joke to scare them off, but there's a mumble conversation and then he hears Clint shout back, "Moon River!"
"No, sing Sentimental Journey!" Natasha shouts back.
He rolls his eyes and begins singing "Que Sera Sera."
—
A stick figure drawing appears in his room. Taped to his window. It's a drawing of (he assumes) himself, playing monkey in the middle with Bucky's arm being the object of necessity. A stick figure of Bucky (one armed) stands with a frown in the middle and a girl with red hair stands on the other sid elf the paper, a smile on her face.
Steve rolls his eyes.
—
The next drawing appears and it's Steve playing fetch with a dog (he thinks it looks like one of the one's on Clint's farm) and the stick is once again, Bucky's arm.
—
The next drawing is the least subtle. A red headed stick figure stands in the middle of the paper holding a sign that says draw something dammit.
—
Natasha returns from her sparring session with Bucky to find a sketch of her sleeping on Steve's bed, Hair everywhere, drool coming out of her mouth, and Zzz's floating on the page to represent her snoring.
She scoffs in indignation at the picture, then she frames it and hangs it on her wall.
—-
It's their first real mission since the Raft.
And he realizes now that it was unwise of him to think that everything would go smoothly.
The army of what looks suspiciously like repurposed AIM robots, attacks downtown Chicago, and the Avengers get called in.
On the Quinjet ride over, Steve briefs them of what to expect, what weapons the robots have and what damage they've already caused to the city. "We need to stop them getting further, obviously." Steve states, pointing at the map, "someone's controlling them and we need to figure out who, how to stop it, and then eventually I wanna know why. Bucky, you and Barton take the topside, snipe them down and watch our backs. Tasha, you, Banner and I will be on the ground, and Stark, whatever technological advance you can give us will be helpful. If you can hack into them or trace their source then that's your priority. If you can't, then you'll be air support to whoever needs it most."
They all agree and start planning in their teams.
It's all going… fine… It is... They're fighting and taking the robots down, but it seems slower than it should be. Steve can't help but feel like they usually work faster than this. And he keeps feeling like he's being watched. But not by the robots. By his teammates.
It's Hulk first. The big guy usually tears through whatever location they're in, taking out whatever or whoever their opponent is, but this time he hovers. Hovers on the same street Steve is on.
And when Steve bolts down another street, chasing after a robot that has taken off, he hears a roar and feels the rumble as Hulk chases after him.
Once that robot is taken care of, Steve turns to Hulk and shouts, "You okay, buddy?"
He receives a roar in response and Steve furrows his eyebrows, "go take the other side street, there's more there and we still don't know where they're coming from."
Another roar, but the Hulk doesn't move.
"Uh, I guess we'll go together." Steve brushes it off, Banner's never been great at taking instructions once he Hulks out. He takes off running and hears the Hulk stomping after him.
Then he notices Natasha. They have always fought well together, but now he keeps expecting her to disappear and come back with reports about their progress like she usually does, but this time she doesn't. Instead staying as close to his location as possible. And he's never heard her ask for a SitRep so often from him.
Almost like she's checking up on him instead of the actual situation.
He sighs and doesn't comment. No big deal. It's their first mission back as a team, they're just being cautious.
But then it takes a turn.
"Bucky, Barton, get to the roof across the street and start sniping around Tony, he needs help as he's tracing the signal."
Instead of the usual confirmations, he's met with silence.
He feels a quiet spike of fear, "Barton, Barnes, check in."
"We're here."
"Did you hear my last instruction?"
"Yes."
"Okay, good." He says confused, "Get going."
Silence again.
He's about to ask what's going on when one of the robot's blasts out from a 3rd story window and slams into the ground in front of him. He's momentarily distracted and fighting with his shield, ripping off one of the robot's arms. But it manages to fire it's own blaster close to Steve's chest. The actual blast misses him, but the heat sears at his skin as it flares past.
An echoing shot drops the robot, a gaping hole in his metal head.
Steve looks up to see Bucky registering a rifle, a vicious look on his face.
"Barnes, I thought I told you to go help Stark."
"You did."
Steve doesn't hide his annoyance, "then why are you still here?"
"Barton's there."
"That's not what I asked." Steve growls and dodges another blast, jumping and slicing his shield through another robot's neck. "Get over there and help them."
"No."
Steve's head snaps up to the roof and he glares at the super soldier who's glaring down at him.
"No?"
"No."
"Care to explain why?" He snarls, ripping another robot to shreds.
"We disagreed with your order."
This causes him to pause, ducking just in time to hear the blast of Bucky's rifle as it takes out another robot.
"We? That's not how this works." he snaps, "Get over there."
"You need me here."
"Bucky, I'm fine. Get over there."
"They don't—"
Stark's voice cuts through, "We need—" his comm crackles and they can hear his repulsors firing, "help— Barton! Get to the—-" There's a blast, a screeching sound in their ears, and Steve feels the rumble under his feet.
He hears Bucky swear in his earpiece and Steve watches as he leaps to the next roof and starts running towards where he was supposed to be.
"Romanoff! Get to Stark!"
"What about you?" Natasha calls back, her breathing heavy.
"I have to catch these last few! I don't want them getting out of this secured area."
He hears shouts of protest but he ignores them, taking off in the opposite direction.
"We're not letting you go alone!" Someone, Bucky he thinks, shouts into the comms, but he's currently tearing a robot to shreds and can't answer.
He hears the skirmishes that are happening a few blocks over as he takes down the next robot. A blast sounds from his left and he slings his shield in that direction, slicing through the waist of the robot and catching it back on his arm.
He's running back towards the group when a blink from his holo map shows two heat signatures surrounded by a large pod of robots. He slides to a stop, changing directions and racing towards it.
Bucky and Natasha stand back to back, shooting their pistols and knocking down robots one by one, but there's too many and they aren't just advancing at once. The circle around them is getting smaller and Steve is still running towards them as they start fighting hand to hand.
Steve barrels through, knocking two off their feet and quickly ripping their heads off. He slings his shield, cutting through three more before making it to the center where he glares at them, "why aren't you with Stark!"
"We weren't going to let you go alone." Natasha snarls, flipping off the shoulders of a robot she had just deactivated.
Steve doesn't answer as he kicks the leg of another robot right off, Bucky leaping past him and using his arm to finish the robot off.
They finish off the group and Steve snaps at them. "Let's get to Stark, now. No arguments."
He takes off and he hears their running footfalls behind him.
Barton's bleeding at the waist and Stark's suit has seen better paint days. The Hulk can be heard roaring the next street over.
"What else can we do?" Steve asks Tony, "you find the signal?"
"I would have if the little spider and terminator here hadn't taken off!" His face plate lifts and he has a bloody lip. "I lost the signal because I couldn't focus on getting it set up, tracing, and keeping all the robots off me! They were programmed to attack anything that was hacking into their mainframe! Barton took a robot blast to the gut and I had to call it quits just to keep them from tearing us apart!"
"We had to go help Steve!" Bucky shouts back at his face.
"No, Buck." Steve snaps, "you didn't! I was just fine, and I ordered you to get to Stark with Barton!"
"We weren't going to let you go alone!" Natasha says harshly.
"Why!" He asks, throwing his arms up. The group pauses as they hear Hulk's roar. No one speaks and Steve's face hardens, "you don't think I can handle it."
There's no response, and Tony shouts, "incoming!"
Thirty more robots race around the corner and the conversation gets shoved to the side.
"BARNES." Steve shouts, "Take Barton and get to the roof, NOW! We need eyes up there!"
He hears Bucky mutter something but he's too distracted with the fight at hand.
He's furious, and his actions show it. Shredding robot after robot, ripping metal arms from joints and using his shield like a scalpel. He's helping Tony with a squadron when he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. A robot to his right is raising his gun, and Steve watches as it charges, ready to fire. His eyes train to where it's aimed, Bucky.
Bucky, who's not where he's supposed to be.
Bucky who's still on the ground, with Barton dragged off to the side, instead of on the roof like Steve had ordered him to be.
Bucky, his best friend who just wants to protect him.
He growls, flinging his shield and watching as the blast hits it, ricocheting the shield off a wall and down an alley. Bucky looks up, stunned. And the shout of 'look out!' from Tony means nothing because his shield is gone and he's defenseless. He raises his arms, trying to block his face from the blast.
The last thing he remembers is searing heat and an exploding pain on the back of his head.
—
He wakes up grouchy.
A throbbing headache and an itchy painful sensation on his arms makes him even more irritable. He opens his eyes. He's in his room, and he hears the five heartbeats in the other room.
They're whispering. He keeps his breathing even and heart rate slow so as not to signal to Bucky that he's woken up.
He listens.
"— he's going to be fine. Just minor burns that have already started to heal. The concussion's already gone, Barnes. Stop—"
"It's my fault."
"Yeah." He hears Tony snap, "it is. Why didn't you just follow orders?"
"Oh, you're one to talk!" Natasha seethes back, "it's no one's fault. It just was a bad mission."
That's all Steve needs to hear. He sits up and shouts out to the room, "actually, it is someone's fault. Stop heckling like chickens and get in here."
They fall silent and shuffle in. Each looking annoyed or angry.
"What the hell, guys." Steve says crankily, "what happened?"
"You got hit by the blast, knocked you against a freaking metal beam. You went down. Barnes and Romanoff freaked out, and Hulk had to be called back from his street to distract the robots while they hauled you over to Barton. Then I ordered them to make a barrier while I figured out the signal issue. Tapped in. Knocked 'em out. Sent the original source to the higher ups to trace. Mission over."
Steve takes a deep breath. "So, is this how it's going to be on every mission? Me giving orders and you guys deciding whether to follow them or not?"
"You were putting yourself in danger." Bucky snaps.
Steve feels anger rise up, "I'm always in danger Bucky! Since the first day I decided I was going to stand up for what I believed in, I've been in danger! Every mission, every fight, there's danger, and that's never going to stop. But you put us in more danger because you didn't trust me!"
"No—" Bucky starts, "It's not that!"
"Then WHAT—"
"I couldn't watch you get hurt again!"
They glare at each other. And Steve, in a moment of annoyance gestures to himself, "like this? Because this is your fault for not following orders the first time. If what happened with Beck and Zemo means you're not going to let me lead the team the way I think is best, then what? We don't go on missions together? I can't have you guys watching my back if I don't trust you to follow through! If you think I'm not fit to be the captain of this team anymore, if you think I made a bad judgement call, or that I should have been more careful, tell me. I need to know. I won't risk another mission going south because you guys don't trust me as your leader."
"We were just worried about you." Natasha says finally, "you always take on the most risk, and after—" She grimaces, "we just… we didn't want any repeats."
"Beck, Zemo, and Ross are gone. They're no longer our problem. We can't go into every mission expecting them or someone like them to pop out from around a corner! We'll crumble under the pressure just like we did today." He sighs, his shoulders dropping a bit as he stares at Bucky who has a hard look on his face. "Buck, I watched that robot fire at you and I just… I get it. The need to protect each other is strong. But you used to trust me in battle as your Captain. You did back then, and I hope you will now… Can you?"
Bucky sags, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking at Steve with sad eyes. "Yeah, Steve. I can."
"Good. What about the rest of you? Don't even get me started on how Tony ended up being the most well-behaved today!"
"Hey!" Tony huffs, but it eases the tension.
"So," Steve raises his eyebrows, "do you all trust me to be your Captain?"
They nod.
"So, from now on you'll follow orders to the best of your abilities and when you have a disagreement you'll talk to me about it instead of just disregarding it?"
He glares at each one of them and they nod.
"Good. Now what's for dinner? I'm hungry."
—
That night, a sound wakes him up that isn't coming from his room.
He's on his feet in an instant. He's taken to keeping sweatpants and a shirt on while he sleeps in case any of his team joins him, and now he exits his door, following the angry sound he's hearing.
Bucky.
He doesn't even ask Friday if he can enter, she unlocks his door for him. He makes his way to the bedroom to see Bucky kneeling on the ground, his breathing heavy as he clutches his head. Steve can see the sheets ripped from the bed and thrown onto the floor, and the desk to his right looks like it's seen better days.
"Bucky? It's me. It's Steve. You with me?"
There's an angry sound, a groan and a growl all in one and Steve steps closer. "I'm going to touch your shoulder okay?"
No response.
He reaches out, setting his hand gently but firmly onto his friend. Bucky reacts, twisting and swinging at Steve. He dodges, the metal arm flashing a centimeter past his nose. He stumbles back, sitting down hard when Bucky lunges at him.
Bucky advances, eyes wild and limbs swinging as Steve dodges and blocks, not fighting him back. A minute in, Steve changes tactics and charges at Bucky, ducking under his swing and throwing his arms around the man's chest. He suddenly hopes Bucky doesn't have any knives on him.
He's hugging Bucky, grasping him tightly around the chest and locking his arms around his back.
Bucky is slamming his fists against his back, struggling to be let free, but Steve doesn't budge. He can feel the bruises forming but he ignores it.
"Come on, Bucky, come back. It's me. It's Steve." He says it as the assassin struggles in his grasp. Bucky yanks at his hair and Steve lets out a surprised yelp but doesn't let go. "Rude." Steve snaps. "Come on," he mumbles. Bucky continues to struggle, kicking out at him. Steve maneuvers, whipping Bucky around and holding him against his chest, holding his arms and moving his legs to avoid the kick Bucky throws backwards. "This is probably not the healthiest way for me to get through to you, but I don't know what else to do right now!" He growls, holding with all his might as the burns on his arms tear and his head pounds.
It continues like this for another minute. Bucky trying to throw him off, muttering in Russian and dialects that Steve doesn't even recognize. Bucky manages to wrench his arm free and thrust his elbow into Steve's ribs. He hears a crack and winces. The pain heightens as Bucky continues to thrash. The nightmare or whatever triggered this must have been a doozy. Steve can't remember the last time an attack lasted this long. He should have Friday call someone else. He opens his mouth to do so when Bucky's elbow collides hard with his mouth and nose. He feels the bones crack and he's stunned into letting his grip slacken. Bucky shoves out of his arms and turns to face him.
"Fri—" Steve starts to shout, but Bucky lunges and he doesn't get to finish as they're grappling again. His head throbs and it doesn't help when Bucky slams his face against a wall.
His breath leaves him in a huff. His arms are bleeding now. Great.
Blood is in his mouth and one of his teeth is loose. He groans as Bucky's fist makes a connection with his broken rib, shattering it. He tries to get his arms around Bucky again, to hold him down but the Winter Soldier is a quick learner. He dodges Steve's hands and grabs his wrists instead. Spinning Steve around and kicking against his back. Steve goes flying forward, smashing into the wall and sliding to the floor. Knees slam on top of his back, holding him down and his arms are yanked up behind him, being held by Bucky's metal arm.
His brain is a daze. The pain from his arms, face, ribs and head make it hard to concentrate. His concussion is definitely back.
A sharp knife presses against his throat and his earlier fear becomes real.
In his daze, the stupidest ideas pops into his head, fueled by the actual fear that these might be the last seconds before…
If Bucky slits his throat… he can't even imagine what that would do to him now. Not after today. It doesn't even matter if he'd actually die. Bucky would never forgive himself.
The metal arm hisses, and he knows he's run out of time and out of options.
So he does the only thing he can think of. He starts singing.
"I see trees of green
Red roses too"
His voice is raspy, shaky, but Bucky freezes, his body going rigid. The knife halting.
"I watch them bloom
For me and you"
Steve's voice cracks, but he doesn't stop.
"And I think to myself,
What a wonderful world"
Bucky's knees are still cracking against his spine and broken ribs. The weight of him makes it difficult to breathe in air to sing, but he does, and he keeps going.
"I see skies of blue
And clouds of white
Bright blessed day
Dark sacred night
And I think to myself "
He can feel it, the shift, Bucky's mind struggling against itself.
"What a wonderful world"
The knife stays at his throat but he can feel it being held rigidly, as if the hand is unsure.
He closes his eyes, the grip on his wrists is still painful and his brain feels like mush, but he's sung these words a thousand times. Sometimes because he agrees with them, and sometimes because he needs a reminder.
"The colors of the rainbow
So pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces
Of people going by"
He hears the knife drop. The weight disappears off his back. He doesn't know whether to keep going or to stop, but he hears the labored breathing of the Winter Soldier fighting, so he keeps going.
"I see friends shaking hands
Saying how do you do"
He fades out as he slowly rolls over, wincing at his ribs and head pounding, Bucky stands stiffly, staring at his hands and shaking,
"Bucky?"
Eyes flash to his and suddenly it's over.
Bucky drops to his knees and clutches at his arms, holding himself tightly as if he might shatter. Steve ignores the pain and sits up, pulling himself over to his friend and wrapping his arms around his shoulders.
"You back with me?"
There's no response, just shaking.
"I'm here, you're okay, you're fine. Everyone's fine."
"Steve?"
He smiles, "yeah, Buck. It's me. I'm here. You're in the compound, we're safe.
"Shit, I'm so sorry."
"No harm, no foul."
Bucky pushes out of his arms and glares at him.
"I almost sliced you open like a pig."
Steve nods thoughtfully, "but you didn't."
"You sang."
Steve chuckles, wincing at the pain in his ribs, "yeah, only weapon I had left."
"You need to start carrying knives on you."
"I'll consider it."
There's silence.
"You wanna talk about what triggered it?"
Bucky sighs, "today triggered it. What a shit show that was. I dreamt that that robot killed you and it triggered something. Next thing I know my fist is through the desk and the programming is fighting for headspace." He groans and leans back. Steve can see the sheen of sweat across his forehead. Exhausted from the attack and the fight. "Everytime I think it's the last time."
"What can I do?"
"You did enough. You stopped me from hurting you."
"Nah, you did that yourself, you heard me singing. You fought it off."
Bucky falls silent.
The door bangs open and rumbled, red-eyed Tony slides to a stop, "what the hell!" He shouts, making Bucky wince, "why did I get a panic alarm from Friday?" He glances at Steve, "and what the hell happened to you! You're getting blood on the carpet."
Steve laughs, groaning at his ribs and chuckling, "sorry, I'll foot the bill to get it clean."
"It's my fault." Bucky sighs, "bit of a nightmare."
Tony narrows his eyes at the absolute wrecked nature of the room, "some nightmare."
"It was a wild one." Steve adds.
"You guys okay?"
"Will be." Steve says, staring at Bucky, who nods.
"Yeah, Stark. I'll be good."
Tony's about to leave when he turns back to them, "now that we're up, we should really get a start on that TV series I've been talking about. It's 6 seasons long and they're hour long episodes. So, you up for it?"
Steve glances at the clock. 2:12a.m.
He looks at Bucky, eyebrows raised in question, Bucky looks at Tony, "will there be snacks?"
Tony looks affronted, "who the hell do you think I am, Barnes? Of course there will be snacks."
He saunters off and Bucky hauls Steve to his feet.
"Probably should change our clothes. You bled all over me."
Steve huffs and nods. He's about to head to his room and change when he stops, "Buck?"
"Yeah?"
"I shouldn't have said today was your fault. I know why you acted the way you did. And I would have done the same." Bucky waves at him, but Steve doesn't stop. "I'm sorry you have to go through these… attacks, I can't really imagine. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Keep your voice warmed up, you sounded like crap." The smile on Bucky's face relieves the last of the tension.
Steve chokes out a laugh and nods, "I'll do that."
—
The next mission goes off without a hitch.
—
Steve and Bucky take flights or busses or trains to visit the families in the notebooks that are farther away. They learn more about their fellow soldiers and their lives after the war and they take their time with each family.
They leave each house a little lighter than they entered.
—
They visit the commandos' families. They get hugs and pictures and stories of their teammates' lives and they laugh and cry and share history.
Future visits are promised.
—
Bucky's attacks all but disappear.
—
He's tossing and turning, the room is too hot and too cold and he's feeling irritable and a heavy weight sits on his chest when his door opens.
He waits as padded feet make their way to his room.
Bucky stands there. A look on his face that tells him he's struggling to sleep too.
They both know why.
It's the 1 year anniversary of finding Steve at the bottom of the ocean.
"I want to kill them." Bucky says, his throat dry and brittle.
"One's already dead, Buck. The other two are good as."
"Not good enough."
"It's gotta be." Steve waves him over and Bucky sits next to him, knees up to his chest and his chin rests on his arms as they lay across his knees.
"I can't believe it's been a year."
Bucky groans. "Anniversaries are supposed to be positive things. Not rehashing one of the worst days of my life."
Steve tries to joke, "worst day of your life?"
Bucky glares at him and then faces forward.
They're silent as another heartbeat enters their field of hearing. Bruce walks in and his face is set in stone, hands clenching and unclenching.
"It's all good, Bruce." Steve says calmly. "I'm here. Not at the bottom of the ocean. The Hulk saved me." Bruce doesn't respond, just goes and sits in the chair he usually occupies when he finds his way there. His eyes are far away and Bucky gives a 'see, worst day ever'.
It surprises them that it's Tony next.
He walks in, red eyes from lack of sleep and he slaps something onto the underside of Steve's upper arm before sliding down to the ground. He yanks the blanket off the edge of the bed and wraps himself in it. Balling up part as a pillow.
Steve looks down and recognizes the tracker Tony had explained to him in detail months ago.
"You finished it?" He asks in surprise.
"I had to. Knew this day was coming up."
A soft smile crosses Steve's face and he shows it to Bucky. "Tony figured that if the bad guys find the trackers in my suit and shield they'd stop looking. But this one will blend right into my skin, making it difficult to find, especially if they don't know to look for it. And it can't be hacked." Steve says quickly at Bucky when he sees the question coming, "and only us 6 can access the coordinates." He glances over the bed, "Tony, did you make one for each of us?"
"Yep." He responds sleepily.
"Thank you." Bucky says quietly, rubbing a thumb of the basically invisible patch.
"I hate today." Tony says grumpily.
"Same." They look up to find Natasha with Clint right behind her.
"See!" He says annoyed, "I knew we should have come earlier. I knew they'd be here."
"I didn't know if Steve would want his space" Natasha counters. Bucky, Clint and Tony all scoff.
"Since when have you given Steve space when he needed it?"
She scrunches her nose at them and squishes herself between Steve and Bucky.
Clint sits on the edge of the bed. "So."
"So."
"Today sucks."
They all nod in agreement, but Steve looks at them, his eyes landing briefly on each one of his teammates. Each one willing to fight for each other. Each one ready to do what's right and protect each other.
All here.
All safe.
He shrugs and smiles, closing his eyes, listening to the five steady heartbeats that are his team. His family.
"Today's not so bad."
—-
I can't believe it, I literally can't! The fact that this story is over is wild! I've been writing it since… JUNE
Geeezzzz.
Anyways. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I'd really love to hear your final thoughts if you can spare the time.
Thank you for every comment, review, and encouragement along the way! It meant the world!