Bucky looked concerned as I approached the front door of Sarah's house and I understood - I was pretty fucking worried too. I HAD just heaved up everything that I'd been lucky enough to keep in my stomach AFTER tossing my cookies during the cookout the day before from one whiff of the full breakfast she'd thoughtfully invited us to. Who wanted to witness a repeat of that? Even if, by this point, I was empty enough to only be able to dry heave.

Sarah held the door, having shoved Sam inside after telling him to get his act together. I hoped he understood the warning to mean "don't post the news about Bucky and Brooke to all your social media accounts" because I was pretty fucking sure that Connie followed his ass and - I felt cold and clammy by the mere thought of my best friend learning about my engagement AND possible pregnancy via a TWITTER post from SAM. Shit.

"Brooke?" Bucky's breath was warm against my cheek, his voice quiet and laced with worry. "You're pale, sweetheart."

I managed an almost silent laugh. "Just sending up a silent prayer that Cap there doesn't decide to share our news before we get a chance to tell Connie ourselves," glancing up at his face, I was gratified to see that he was losing a bit of color at the prospect too. "You're not looking so hardy yourself, Barnes."

"She'll -" he swallowed so hard I was pretty damn sure that Sam could hear him before we crossed the threshold and got inside. "I'll make sure he doesn't, Brooke," I nodded, smiling as he kissed my temple. "Even if I have to destroy his damn phone." For Sam's sake, I hoped it wouldn't come to that - but I won't lie and say the idea of seeing Bucky's strength in action didn't give me a sharp twist of lust.

The good news: I didn't start heaving as soon as we walked in the house. Actually the scent of the food no longer made me want to vomit up the entirety of everything I'd ever considered eating in my lifetime - before and after The Snap. I wasn't full on gorge hungry like I had been the day before either, so I almost felt normal. ALMOST. I was incredibly thirsty - for milk, juice, water - still hated the taste of coffee, so that hadn't changed, but I couldn't seem to get enough fluids in me.

Sam watched me with a mixture of wide eyes and a smirk that had me on edge. Bucky was watching him with a look that made me wonder how Sam wasn't on edge. And Sarah was spending breakfast watching all of us like we were ridiculous, but marginally entertaining.

"Where is it?" Bucky asked, when I got up to help Sarah clear the table - after waving his help off. Sam looked at him like he'd lost his mind, but Buck just crossed his arms over his chest and stared at him with a clenched jaw.

Sam leaned back in his own chair and stared back. "Where's what?"

While they had their staring contest/face off, I offered to wash up since Sarah had fed us, but she would only consent to letting me help load the dishwasher. Both of us were listening for the inevitable collusion, but nothing happened, silence continued.

"That's not normal, is it?" She was asking me? I shrugged. She probably had as much experience with the two of them together as I did. "Should we -"

I nodded, "Bucky can move like shadows and smoke, for all we know he has Sam unconscious and his phone in pieces right now." Sarah looked like she might want a picture or video of that, and I was thinking that having siblings might be the weirdest fucking situation ever.

We found them still sitting opposite one another, tense staring contest still on - "Well," Sarah sighed, "I'm SO glad that the two of you are acting as role models for my sons," she shook her head and reached for Sam's phone, watching him flinch, but he didn't blink. "Think you wanted to see if my darling brother was about to share your news near and far WITHOUT permission -" she handed it to me, and I grinned at her.

"Hey," Sam broke first, glancing at me as if I had somehow broken HIS trust. "I would NEVER -" I raised an eyebrow and he shook his head. "OK, I there MIGHT be a text in there that I STARTED to type, in ADVANCE, so when you GAVE me the OK to send it -"

I snorted and Bucky sat shaking his head, frown on his face and disappointment rolling off him in heavy waves. "Trust, Sam," he pulled me onto his lap and held me close as I sat Sam's phone down on the table in front of us. "Is a two-way street," he picked up the phone with his left hand. I watched as Sam's eyes went so wide I worried they might pop out.

"Buck, don't make any rash decisions," Sam got up and started around the table. "I can delete the message," he held out his hand. "It was rash -" Bucky wasn't actually closing his hand at all, just holding the phone in his palm, but Sam and I both knew that it wouldn't take much, a tiny bit of pressure and that phone was dust. "Just give me my phone," his tone went from pleading to something akin to his Captain America commanding one and I nearly let out another snort of humor.

Bucky squinted up at him. "A preemptive text," tilting his head so he was leaning into me, he shook his head and kissed me at the same time. "To who?" He asked, when he met Sam's gaze again. "Who could you possibly think you should get to tell before WE get to tell them?"

"Torres," Sam offered, a name that I vaguely knew from Sam and Bucky's conversations on our drive down from New York. "Sharon." A name I knew very well, given that she stayed in OUR house. "Walker?" The last one was met with silence and tension so thick that I was pretty fucking sure Sarah could have cut it with a butter knife.

"You wanted to tell WALKER that Brooke and I are engaged and we -" I nudged him and he sighed. "MIGHT be expecting an addition to our family." I sighed. "Walker?" The incredulousness dripped so heavily that I wondered if I could SEE it.

"OK, maybe NOT Walker." Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm excited for you two," his grin grew. "I mean, Bucky, man - look at you."

I bit my lip to hide my smile. Yeah, LOOK at him. At peace, engaged, possibly starting a family - That was pretty fucking fantastic.

"Yeah, yeah," Bucky's voice had lost some of the irritation, ripped away by the truth of Sam's words. "You're not off the hook, Sam." He handed him the phone. "Delete it, NOW."

We watched as Sam deleted the text - then sat around discussing what came next - meaning our return to New York and two doctors' appointments for me. One to confirm whether or not I had a tiny supersoldier growing inside of me - and one to meet Dr. Stephen Strange.

"Dr. Strange," Sam inhaled a HUGE breath and I waited to hear what he had to say on the subject. "I have to admit, Brooke, I have experience with PTSD, but what Bucky told me about what you've experienced -" I wasn't upset that Bucky had discussed it, not when I knew it came from a place of concern and love. "Strange is probably the best person to sit down with."

"Why?" It got very quiet. "Guys, I know he's one of YOU," they both shook their heads. "OK, so he has a vastly different fashion style -" Bucky laughed and Sam rolled his eyes. "What makes either of you think that he's going to have answers that a regular therapist won't?"

I caught the look they shared - the "should we share what we know, or should we let her see it for herself first hand" look. "He doesn't JUST dress like a magician, Brooke," Sam offered, looking very serious given the discussion of a man who wore a cape. "He really does have access to information that none of us do."

"And you really think that he might be able to -" Bucky tightened his hold on me. "I told you I'd meet him, Bucky." I looked into his steel colored eyes and felt my breath catch. "I will."

"That's settled," Sam said, rubbing his hands together. "When's the wedding?"