He was quickly growing used to waking up with Bucky in his arms; more than that, he enjoyed having someone to hold. Steve hadn't ever shared his bed with anyone for longer than a night or two. During the war, sometimes just an hour or two. He was aware most people saw him as old-fashioned or a prude, but Steve preferred discreet. He had hormones and urges the same as any man.
Steve worried, though, about what would happen when Bucky didn't need him anymore. When he had to go back to his cold, lonely bed. He tried to push the worry away and appreciate the present.
Somehow, they always ended up with Bucky using his chest as a pillow. Steve didn't mind; it was a reassuring weight, letting him know Bucky was with him. He usually had a few minutes in the morning to appreciate knowing Bucky was safe and felt safe with Steve.
After a while, Bucky began his morning stretches, unconcerned he was still laying half over Steve. And as he did every morning, Bucky tightened his arm around Steve in a weird sort of hug before he pushed himself up and off the bed, heading for the en suite.
Steve got himself up and returned to his room to ready himself for the day. Both finished within fifteen minutes and they met in the attached sitting room before heading down to breakfast together.
They never knew from one day to the next if they'd see Harry at breakfast. Steve wasn't sure if the other man was sleeping or working and he'd never asked. But this morning, Harry and Hermione were both in the dining room, heads bent over a notebook covered in odd symbols and Harry's distinctive writing.
"This is absolute genius, Harry," Hermione said excitedly. "You've always been rather clever, but this, this is a whole new level."
There was a pleased smile and a faint flush on Harry's face. He turned as the other two walked into the room.
"Good morning," Harry said quietly. He never tried to start a conversation before someone's first cup of coffee or tea.
Steve returned the greeting, but Bucky merely nodded, headed straight for his chair and the coffeepot. Bucky took his coffee very seriously in the morning. It was worth more than your life to try to separate him from it. During the war, there had been several times the other Commandos tried as a joke. They were quick to learn the laugh wasn't worth Bucky's vengeance.
The table was quiet as breakfast appeared: huge fluffy Belgian waffles, pots of honey, cream, and maple syrup. Accompanied by sausage, bacon, and fruit. There was no chance of going hungry with Kreacher around. The elf still called him Captain Savage and watched him with suspicious eyes, but Steve had to admit it didn't interfere with the care Kreacher gave all of them.
By the time everyone had finished eating, Hermione was nearly vibrating in her chair. Steve worried she'd shake the baby loose, but he didn't dare voice the thought. Bucky was watching her with concern, but the moment he opened his mouth, Steve heard rustling under the table, a muffled thump, and Bucky grunted before he shot Harry a dirty look.
Steve tried not to laugh; Harry was deadly serious about not getting another lecture. Thankfully, Hermione had missed all the byplay.
As soon as Harry's plate disappeared, she dropped the notebook in front of him and demanded, "Tell him."
"I worked out the placement of the runes," Harry said quickly, before Bucky could retaliate. "And the small-scale tests were perfect." He glanced up at Bucky and smiled. "I can have your arm done before lunch."
There was a long moment where Bucky stared at Harry before a small smile tugged at his lips. "Thank you."
Harry flushed, looked down, and fiddled with his notebook. Steve noticed, once again, Harry didn't seem to know how to handle gratitude or praise. What that said about Harry's upbringing worried Steve.
"It'll be dead boring," Harry said with a dismissive shrug. "Mostly you'll be sitting there telling me when you feel something, but it shouldn't take more than a couple of hours."
Bucky leaned down until he caught Harry's eyes. "For what you're giving me, I'd stand on my head for a week, a couple of hours sitting is nothing."
"Maybe if all the blood rushed to your head, you'd get smarter," Steve quipped without thinking.
Hermione slapped her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles. Harry didn't even pretend to try.
Bucky slowly turned his head and glared at Steve. "You and me, Stevie," he growled. "We're gonna go a few rounds this afternoon. See if you're still up to opening your smart mouth then."
Steve tried, really, he did. But the sight of Harry and Hermione holding each other up as they giggled was too much for him; he laughed. The way Bucky was hamming up his grumbling wasn't helping matters either. The scowl stayed on Bucky's face, but his eyes were laughing.
It took them a few minutes but once everyone had calmed down, they headed out of the dining room, Hermione in the lead. As they walked down the hall to Harry's office, Bucky caught Harry's neck in the crook of his arm and pulled him in.
"You're lucky you're cute, Green-Eyes," Bucky growled. "Or I'd make you pay for that kick."
Harry flushed prettily and the flutter in Steve's stomach was back. There was something about the way Bucky and Harry looked together that tugged at Steve, but he couldn't articulate it, even to himself.
Ducking out of Bucky's hold, Harry grinned. "It wasn't a kick; it was a tangible reminder."
Bucky swiped for Harry's hair and Harry danced out of his way with a wide, easy grin. It warmed Steve's heart to see them both playing, and he couldn't resist smiling as he watched them. A friendly shoving match broke out at the door, which Harry won by the expedient method of ducking under Bucky's arm. Steve entered behind them and caught the warm smile on Hermione's face.
Once Harry started pulling implements out of his worktable, the playfulness vanished. Harry directed Bucky to a wide, comfortable chair with a sturdy adjustable table on the left side. With a careless gesture, a ball of white light floated above the table. Harry set down two tools that looked like a cross between a pen and an awl and pulled over a stool. At first, Steve thought the stool was backward until Harry sat and leaned his chest against it.
"Vibranium can be challenging to engrave, but with diamond tips and magic it's manageable," Harry said. "I'm going to start with the hand; it needs more receptors. If you need to move, let me know."
Bucky agreed and Harry bent to his work. "Without going into exhaustive detail about the nervous system, I'm giving you what amounts to pressure sensitivity, vibration sensitivity, with limited thermal sensitivity, as well as linking the arm to your spatial awareness."
Harry glanced at Bucky out of the corner of his eye. "You use it as both weapon and shield, so I'm not adding pain receptors."
It was the first time someone had suggested Bucky might fight again, and Steve found himself holding his breath. He couldn't begin to predict Bucky's reaction. He noticed Hermione watching Bucky closely.
The only signs Bucky heard the comment were the closing of his eyes and the suddenly tense jaw. Harry let the silence stretch for several minutes as he continued his engraving. Every time Steve thought about opening his mouth, Hermione glared him into submission.
Head still bent to his task, Harry spoke in a low voice. "When I first escaped, the methods in which they'd forced the knowledge on me and what they'd forced me to do with those skills utterly consumed my thoughts."
Harry switched tools, never lifting his eyes. "It took a long time before I could see past that without this all-consuming rage that terrified me far more than anything they'd done."
Steve saw Bucky swallow but not another muscle moved, almost as if he were carved from unrelenting granite. It was all Steve could do to keep silent; he was quickly coming to understand, doing nothing was the most difficult skill he'd ever learn.
"Once I could, I felt utterly lost." Harry paused his carving to check over his work. "It seemed like the skills they'd branded into my mind were only useful for causing pain, and the thought of harming another innocent nearly paralyzed me."
And there was the confirmation Steve hadn't wanted. They had actively used Harry as a weapon. Hermione's lips pressed together in a thin line, and she had an arm cradling her stomach protectively. Bucky was still motionless. Once again, Steve felt his heart breaking.
"But as my friends kindly point out, time and time again," Harry said with a tiny smile on his lips. "I am quite possibly the most impossible, stubborn, troublesome, pain in the arse that has ever lived."
The faint hint of softening in Bucky's face relieved Steve. Hermione relaxed as well, the grin on her face giving Steve the identity of one friend.
Harry turned Bucky's hand over and began working on the palm of the vibranium arm. "And once I'd remembered that, the thoughts that kept running through my head were simple and undeniable; 'They cannot be allowed to win. I will not let them defeat me. They will not control me any longer.'"
Though his voice was quiet, Steve heard the iron-will that resided in the depths of Harry's soul. Steve knew Bucky once had the same; he could only hope Hydra hadn't snuffed it out.
"So, I set out to use the very skills they so graciously gave me to help others. To protect and defend the innocents they would have crushed." Harry worked up Bucky's forearm. "And every day I don't give in to despair, I win. Every day I help someone, I win. Every day I defend the defenseless, I win."
Harry suddenly looked up. Startled, Bucky's head whipped around and their eyes met.
With a vicious, predatory smile on his lips, Harry said, "And I'm rather fond of winning."
The spark that had been missing from Bucky's eyes suddenly blazed back to life. Bucky's tongue darted out to moisten his lips and a smile Steve had never seen before blossomed. It was darker than anything Bucky had displayed before, harder too.
"I'm rather partial to winning myself, Green-Eyes," Bucky growled, low and almost feral.
Steve felt torn; the spark in Bucky's eyes reassured him beyond measure, but the aggressive, almost violent tone concerned him.
Hermione took one look at Steve's face and got to her feet. "Harry, I need to stretch my legs. I'm taking Steve for company."
Harry's expression was once again calm, as if the other had never been there. It startled Steve.
"The swans were hanging about the dock earlier," Harry said as he continued his work. Bucky's eyes stayed focused on Harry intently.
All but dragging Steve out of the room, Hermione didn't allow him to say anything. "When we're outside," she murmured.
When they were outside, Steve couldn't help but offer Hermione his arm. She gave him a fond smile and linked their elbows. They strolled towards the dock and Steve tried to appreciate the landscape, but his mind wouldn't settle.
"It would be dangerously naïve to expect men purposely habituated to violence to put it all behind them," Hermione said.
"They don't need to live like that anymore," Steve said stubbornly.
He didn't have a problem with Bucky or Harry possibly joining the Avengers, but something in their tone struck Steve as wrong.
"Captain Rogers," Hermione said sharply.
Steve frowned at her.
"Did you know every time you hear that you come to attention?" She asked. "Why? You're not in the army anymore."
"It's not the same," Steve said insistently, but even he heard the hesitation.
He hadn't known he did that, but now that Hermione had pointed it out, he realized she was right. But it still didn't feel right to Steve; he couldn't attribute what he'd seen in their faces to knee-jerk reactions.
They walked in silence for a while.
"It's not the same," Hermione said after several minutes. "But you also have to acknowledge that violence is intrinsic in human nature. We've not evolved as far as some like to pretend."
"That doesn't mean you should relish it," Steve countered.
Hermione smiled softly. "When I was fourteen, there was a loathsome boy who was mocking the pain of my friend. He was cruel, but not violent. I slapped that boy as hard as I could," she said. "And I enjoyed doing so."
She looked up at Steve. "Are you saying you've never enjoyed a fight?"
He was many things, not all of them good either, but he'd never been a liar. He did enjoy a good fight sometimes. Steve still felt there was something disturbing in Bucky and Harry's behavior. Whatever this was, it wasn't heat of the moment thrills; it was raw, visceral.
Apparently, he was also easy to read, because Hermione sighed and said, "The reason for your discomfort is that, no matter how much we might wish differently, the experiences Harry and Bucky survived dehumanized them. They were made less."
Her eyes were on the approaching loch, but Steve knew she didn't see it. "They are trying, desperately, to regain that humanity. But it's impossible to say how far they'll come. That darker aspect may always linger."
Though it hurt Steve's heart to think of Bucky and Harry that way, it made things clearer. Steve had known soldiers and Shield agents whose brutality had sickened him, but he didn't see the same thing in Bucky and Harry. What Hermione said, the darker aspect, was a better fit for Steve.
He tried to give voice to his thoughts. "They're not subhuman or brutal. Maybe not so much a need or desire for violence but an acceptance of it," Steve said. "They've lost some of the more civilized, polite fiction about violence." It wasn't quite a question.
"I agree," Hermione said in a soft voice, seeming more present.
"I've seen no signs of sadistic tendencies or a desire to seek out a fight, but if the fight comes to them?" She shrugged. "They may be a bit darker, a bit harder than they went in, but they've also shown an immense capacity for compassion. In the end, we have to hope it balances out."
By unspoken agreement, they turned around and walked back to the house. Steve still wasn't happy about the situation but thought he understood it now and after their talk, found it was something he could live with.
As they reached the door, Hermione stopped him. "I read something once; it sums things up nicely, and it's helped me cope," she said. "Adapt and survive."
Steve nodded thoughtfully. Adapt and survive; it fit Bucky and Harry perfectly. And it did help. What they were becoming was because they'd survived. He smiled at Hermione and with an exaggerated bow, opened the door for her. She rewarded Steve with a cheerful smile and they turned to join their survivors.
When they reentered the room, Harry was working near Bucky's shoulder. Bucky's blue eyes immediately snared Steve, and the mixture of defiance and fear in Bucky's eyes told Steve Bucky had seen his reaction.
He crossed the room and stood to Bucky's right. Steve, careful not to disturb Harry's work, set his hand on Bucky's shoulder and squeezed. He felt the subtle relaxing of Bucky's posture and saw the relief in his eyes. Harry noticed too. He glanced up and there was not a hint of fear in Harry's green eyes.
Harry was further along this path than Bucky and Steve understood; Harry had reached the point where he wouldn't apologize for what he'd become to survive. It reassured Steve, Bucky's occasional fear and uncertainty were the hardest for Steve to deal with. So, Steve acknowledged Harry with a nod. Which was returned with a sly wink that sent the blood rushing to Steve's face.
After a few more minutes, Harry set down his tool and rolled his arms and shoulders. "That should be all the engraving," Harry said as he got to his feet and raised his hands above his head, attempting to decompress his spine. Bucky took advantage of the situation and poked Harry in the ribs, startling a laugh out of him.
"Prat," Harry said as he danced back out of Bucky's range.
Bucky stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed his ankles, a pleased smile on his face.
Hermione leaned over Harry's stool and looked at the engraving on Bucky's arm. "Harry, this is beyond Mastery level work," she said, amazed. "I wish you'd sit the test; Professor Babbling would sponsor you."
"Can't be arsed," Harry said with a smile. He returned his tools to the desk. "I keep busy enough without it."
Hermione frowned at him. "You deserve the recognition," she said with an unwavering look.
The smile on Harry's face was more than a little bitter. "They'll never recognize me as anything other than 'The Boy Who Lived'."
Harry shrugged and his smile became sincere. "The people I care about give me the only recognition I want."
"I swear, Harry James Potter, if you make me cry, I'll tell Kreacher to stop making treacle tart," Hermione said tearily.
Harry slipped his arm around Hermione and led her back to the chair she'd been in earlier. "No need to be cruel, love. Besides, it's your hormones making you emotional." Harry turned his hand over and a cloth handkerchief appeared in it. He tucked the cloth into her hand.
Steve had to stifle a laugh when Hermione poked Harry's ribs with her free hand. "Back to the salt mines, cheeky monster."
There was still a smile on Harry's face when he returned to his stool. "Right, I'll need to power the runes, but you have enough magic of your own to sustain them," Harry said. "The vibranium will vibrate a bit and you'll notice odd sensations as your mind learns to interpret the signals. Shouldn't last more than a few minutes."
The air of nervous anticipation around Bucky was almost palpable. Harry didn't make him wait; he started running his finger over each rune. The rune would glow a faint green for a moment before fading. It only took Harry a few minutes to do them all, and by the time he finished, Bucky was fidgeting.
"Give it a minute," Harry said with a sympathetic smile. "Let me know when it stops."
"Feels like something's crawling over me," Bucky said in an odd mix of awed and irritable.
Steve picked up Bucky's other hand and squeezed. He might not know much about magic, but he was learning to have faith in Harry. It would work, it had to.
Bucky's deep, relieved sigh a few minutes later made it obvious the sensations had stopped. A moment later he gasped in open astonishment; Harry had run his finger across the open palm of vibranium.
"I felt that," Bucky said with wide-eyed wonder. Slowly, metal hand trembling, Bucky drew a finger over Harry's palm. "I can feel the lines on your palm."
Bucky used the hand Steve was holding to pull him closer, startling Steve, causing him to almost tumble into Bucky's lap. A cool metal hand skimmed up Steve's arm from wrist to elbow.
"I can feel the hairs on your arm," Bucky said incredulously.
Harry conjured a handful of balls. Nudging Bucky in his metal arm, Harry grinned as Bucky turned to him, astonished. Handing Bucky a ball, he said, "Pop that for me."
A flex of his hand and the ball burst with a loud pop. Harry handed him another. "Squeeze until it almost pops."
Much more cautiously this time, Bucky squeezed the ball. They all saw the strain the ball was under, but it didn't pop.
With a wave of Harry's hand, the other balls shrank to the size of marbles. Harry set them on the table and told Bucky, "With two fingers, pick up the cold one."
Bucky's brows lowered in concentration as he gently prodded each marble, gasping when he touched the last one. With two fingers, he picked it up and dropped it in Steve's hand. The ball was well below room temperature.
"Alright, close your eyes," Harry said.
Without hesitation, Bucky closed his eyes. Harry conjured several squares of various fabrics. He lifted Bucky's hand and placed it on the first one. "What is it?"
"Leather," Bucky answered easily.
They continued until Bucky had identified fur, cotton, silk, and denim.
"That's all I have," Harry said a few minutes and a handful of additional tests later. "Let me know if you notice any problems."
At Harry's words, Bucky surged out of his chair, pulled a startled Harry to his feet, and wrapped him in a tight hug. After a moment's hesitation, Harry relaxed and wrapped his arms around Bucky. Steve didn't resist his impulse, stepped up, and wrapped his arms around both of them. Bucky immediately freed one arm and returned Steve's embrace. There was the same hesitation from Harry before he did as well. And the sense of contentment was stronger this time.
"Thank you, Harry. I know you can slay your own fucking dragons," Bucky said fiercely. "But when you need someone to watch your back, you just call me."
"Prats," came Hermione's watery voice. "No treacle tart for a month," she said.
"I'll make it for you, Green-Eyes," Bucky murmured in Harry's ear. "I don't know what the hell it is, but I'll make it."
Harry shivered, then tensed in their arms and pulled away. "No worries, truthfully Kreacher wouldn't stop making it."
Though he was reluctant to let him go, Steve didn't try to hold on to Harry. Once Harry had slipped free, he began banishing the tests he'd used. Steve didn't know how to break the sudden tension that had sprung up. Harry's magic had flared, but it was different this time. Instead of the hum of static, it felt ruffled and agitated. Bucky was no help as he silently watched Harry with narrowed eyes.
Harry jumped a split second before a shrill alarm rang from his pocket. "Bloody fucking hell," Harry cried as he scrambled to pull his phone from his pocket. He ignored Hermione's protest as he silenced the noise and read a message on the phone.
"I have to go," he said hurriedly. "That little witch almost managed to escape." Harry held out a hand and a familiar messenger bag flew across the room. "I don't know how long I'll be." And with that, he apparated away.
"Bloody prat," Hermione growled. "He just blew through his own anti-apparition wards."
"Is that bad?" Bucky asked, still staring at the spot Harry had been a moment ago.
"Not really," Hermione said with a sigh. "He overwhelmed them for a moment, in a minute or two they'll reset."
She sank back into her chair. "The problem is Harry has more magic than his body can channel and overwhelming the wards here is magic intensive, so is apparating to New York, which is where he went."
With an irritated frown, she said, "And who knows what he's walking into. If he does too many magic intensive spells in a short time frame, his body can't cope with the discharge and will shut down."
Steve frowned. "How much is too much?"
"I don't know," Hermione said with a pensive frown. "I'm positive Harry does, but he refuses to talk about it."
"Sounds like he needs a fucking keeper," Bucky growled.
Hermione narrowed her eyes at Bucky. "I've overlooked your language because cursing can be a release valve, but you're pushing it."
Bucky ducked his head. "Yes, Ma'am."
She watched him for a long moment before giving him a smile. "Besides, I doubt any one person could keep up with Harry."
With a sudden gasp, Hermione got to her feet, muttering, "How could I be so stupid?"
Steve and Bucky both jumped up, but she was already headed out the door.
"I'll be in the library if you need me."
Bucky watched her leave. "How did we end up the normal ones?" he asked.
Steve didn't have any answers for him.
