Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise.

Challenges Listed at the Bottom

Word Count: 8604

Warning: General canonical (and none canonical) Bucky Angst


A Sense Of Home


The tiny apartment was damp. There was mould on the walls, and an absolutely disgusting smell coming from the hallway. But it was on the third floor, the building was half empty, and it was fairly easily defended.

Priorities.

It had been a long time since James had had those. A long time since he'd been allowed to have those.

The walls were a dirty brown, the carpet stained and likely entirely unsanitary, but he didn't care about any of that. Whatever bastardised version of the serum he'd been injected with kept him safe from illnesses, and the pros still outweighed the cons.

Particularly when he knew this was the last place anyone would look for him. Hiding in plain sight was the best disguise when one didn't want to be found, James knew. Hadn't he used the same tactic time after time when he was carrying out the orders of Hydra.

They gave him the target, and left him to his own devices, and he'd never failed them. It was a strange feeling, to be oddly proud of such a record, and also thoroughly disgusted with himself for the same thing.

He sat down on the threadbare mattress he laid on every night—never truly sleeping, but resting enough to function—and let his head fall into his hands.

What the hell was he doing?

He couldn't hide forever, no matter how much he wished he could. He'd thought about travelling, but getting out of the country would be risky; especially with the tenacious Captain America looking out for any sign of him.

Anywhere he went in the states, there was the chance he'd be recognised, by the Avengers, or by Hydra.

Sometimes, James wondered which would be worse. Hydra would force him to do horrible things, yes, but they'd take the choice away from him. There was something to be said for being a mindless drone.

Of course, that he could even think such a thought, knowing that even more people would die at his hands, added even more guilt to the already sizable ball that had made its home in his chest.

James pushed himself back on the bed and grabbed the sole pillow from the head of it, clutching it in his arms. He pressed his face into it, ignoring the slightly musty smell that came from sheets that desperately needed washing, and he tried to take comfort in the softness.

He hadn't had anything soft for so long.

Eventually, he sighed to himself. Sitting there feeling sorry for himself wasn't going to do anyone any good. Certainly not him. If he sank into his pity for too long, it was entirely possible that he'd be found, caught unaware, and dragged away from his safe haven.

He put the pillow back on the bed, and grabbed his cap from the top of the dusty old dresser. He still had to eat, and get at least a little fresh air for the day. And maybe he'd find someone he could help, even if it was only something small.

Anything to assuage the guilt that was trying to eat him up from the inside out.

He paid no mind to the rain as he walked down the street, cap pulled low, head hanging down. James liked the rain. There was just something so natural about it, something soothing.

Perhaps it was the gentle pitter patter of it that soothed his nerves, or maybe it was the chill of it reminding him that he was still there, still breathing, still surviving.

He didn't know, but whatever it was, he liked it. It didn't rain enough, especially in the summer.

He dipped into a small supermarket, walking the aisles calmly as he slipped the odd item here and there into his pockets. When he got to the till, he paid for a bottle of soda and a chocolate bar, smiling at the lady on the checkout, before he walked out of the shop with nobody any the wiser.

He handed the chocolate bar and drink off to a homeless man on the end of the block. In his pockets he had two sandwiches, a bottle of water, a bag of chips and some abomination called twinkies that he'd found that he loved.

Plus they gave him the calories he desperately needed.

He continued on his way, no fixed destination in mind. His feet took him to his regular haunt regardless, a small park a few blocks away from his apartment. He liked it there.

It was quiet, peaceful in a way that seemed foreign to James. There was a tranquility about the place that he craved, and while he couldn't attain it himself, it was nice to be somewhere that had it.

The bench he preferred to sit on—it had a complete view of the whole park and a high wall at it's back—was taken, so he wandered around, looking at the small flower beds that lined the paths.

The colours were beautiful, brighter than any James could remember ever seeing before and he liked to watch the bees moving from flower to flower as they gathered their pollen.

He ate as he walked, soothing the gnawing pain in his stomach, and by the time he'd done three rounds of the small park, he felt a little more settled than he had before he left the apartment.

So of course, that was when he found himself face to face with Tony Stark.

James walked quickly, skipping in and out of alleys and small walkways, round in circles with random turns left and right. He didn't know if Stark had recognised him, the man had been on his phone and didn't appear to be paying too much attention to his surroundings, but being so close to an Avenger had spooked James.

What if Stark had recognised him?

Would Rogers be here in a matter of hours, banging on his door and demanding that "Bucky" go home with him to live happily ever after or whatever bullshit the man had in mind.

"Bucky" didn't exist anymore. James wasn't even sure who he was, never mind some guy from the forties who followed someone wearing spandex into battle on a moving train.

Honestly, James thought that guy was kind of an idiot.

He continued his dodging for as long as he thought he needed too, until night was starting to fall over the city.

Slowly, and exceedingly cautiously, he made his way back towards his apartment. Another pro from the serum was that he didn't ever get lost, easily able to find his way back despite being in an unfamiliar part of town.

He was almost there when a flash car drove past him. James stepped back into the shadows, cursing himself for his own paranoia. The sad thing was, he knew now that he'd have to move on within the next few days.

Even if Stark hadn't recognised him, James would never be able to settle again, knowing that the man could show up at any time.

Or tell Rogers where he was.

James let himself into his apartment, scanning it immediately when the door opened, because something felt off.

Tony Stark was standing by the window, his back to James.

James could kill him where he stood. It seemed a little silly of the supposed genius to be so… unarmed. But then, James knew that armour couldn't always be seen, and there was no amount of trouble Stark could cause without even lifting a finger.

He was dangerous, James knew. Perhaps the most dangerous of the Avengers as a whole unit. He was smarter than the rest of them, and intelligence was the biggest weapon at a man's disposal.

Besides, anyone that Hydra was scared of going against wasn't someone James wanted to fuck with if he could help it.

He thought about turning around, leaving and running, but from just a glance, Stark had managed to find him. There was nowhere he could run that he wouldn't be found again, now that Stark had him in his sights.

"If I promise not to fight, will you make it quick?" he asked softly, his voice carrying in the silent room.

Stark turned around and looked at him appraisingly. "Make what quick? I'm not here to kill you, Soldier, settle down."

James' heart sank. If Stark wasn't there to kill him, he was likely there to take him back to New York, to Rogers.

"Not here to take you back to Captain America's tender loving arms either," Stark added, and James wondered if he'd said it aloud, or if he was just that pathetically obvious.

"I know Steve can be a little, uh, exuberant."

"So why are you here?" James asked after a pause. "Are you taking me to the police? Or Shield?"

Stark shook his head. "Not taking you anywhere, Barnes. Really, you need to relax. I just came to check on you, see what kind of conditions you were living in, that kinda thing."

"I get by," James said, looking away.

"This place is certainly… something," Stark muttered. "Anyway. I've got places to be so."

James looked back in time to see him put a few things down on the windowsill. "A bank account and phone registered to James Michaels. Neither of them have trackers, the pin on the card is eight-six-six-nine, and my personal number is already stored in the phone."

James stared at the windowsill for a moment and then looked back at Stark. "Why are you doing this?"

Stark shrugged. "You need help, I can help. It's literally that simple. And hey, when you're ready for it, gimme a call, I'll come pick you up and take you home."

"I don't have a home," James said softly. "Not now."

"So maybe you can find yourself one, but like I said. If you need any help, you have my number."

Stark walked towards him, and it took all the inner strength James had not to flinch away as he brushed past him.

"That's it?" James asked, when Stark was at the still open door.

Stark turned his head. "There was a time I needed saving, Barnes. I had someone there for me. I'm just paying it forward."

James watched as he left and then pushed the door until it closed with a quiet snick. He looked at the phone and card on the window sill and then crossed to his bed, sitting down hard enough to make the springs on the old, tired mattress groan in protest.

It couldn't be that easy, could it?

James didn't look at the phone or the card for the next few days. He'd tried to pick them up a couple of times, only for his hand—flesh, not metal—to shake so hard it sent tremors up his arm into his shoulder.

He'd returned to his routine of walking around the park after a few days and hadn't seen anyone he didn't want to run into, so he thought, perhaps, Stark was a man of his word.

He still couldn't bring himself to use the card or the phone immediately.

As the days passed though, he started looking at the things that were missing in his life. There was, admittedly, a lot of things missing, but he was thinking of the big things. Safety. Warmth. Someone to sit with without being scared that they were an enemy in disguise.

And Stark's words of finding a home had struck something deep inside him.

It was three weeks later when James chanced using the bank card. He'd left Washington and used the card to get a train. He hadn't been sure where he was heading until he'd seen the words New York City on the overhead boards.

Going to New York was a thought that had been in the back of his mind since he'd seen Stark, if he was completely honest. The unassuming, non-pressuring manner of the man had left James feeling a little wrongfooted, but also curious.

Was it possible to be near Stark without attracting the attention of Rogers?

And if it wasn't, could he handle Rogers being around, so that James could be near someone who didn't seem to expect anything from him?

He wasn't sure.

But he'd never know until he tried, and James had a gut feeling that Stark would help James disappear again if he couldn't handle being around Rogers.

It took a little over three hours on the train from Washington to New York, and when he stepped onto the platform, James took a deep breath and lifted the phone to his ear.

Stark picked up on the third ring.

"Hello—dammit DUM-E, Daddy's on the phone you little brat—Sorry, hello?"

James blinked and then snorted. "It's uh. James. James Barnes."

"Is everything okay?" The distracted tone Stark had answered with was gone, and there was an underlying thread of concern and attention in his voice.

"I'm in New York."

There was a pause and then Stark asked, "On holiday or…?"

"I thought, maybe, I could try that finding a home thing you mentioned," James admitted.

Another pause, and then James heard Stark scolding DUM-E—whatever a DUM-E was, James didn't have the first clue, it seemed a bit cruel for a nickname for a child after all—again, before he said, "You know where Stark Tower is, right? Stop by and we'll have a chat."

"Now?"

"Well I'm not going to make you stay in a hotel, am I?" Stark asked. "Just call me back when you're downstairs and I'll guide you in."

"I… okay. Thanks."

James ended the call and stuffed the phone in his pocket. He was glad that Stark was letting him go to the Tower alone. He thought, perhaps, that Stark was astute enough to realise that this was a step James had to make himself.

He walked towards it, the map of New York ingrained in his mind from past missions making it easy to find. As he had in Washington, he kept his head down, his cap pulled over his face.

He hadn't had much to pack, and the duffle on his shoulder contained all of his worldly possessions. It was sad when one thought about the fact that James had been born in nineteen-seventeen.

He may not have been awake for many of his years, but it was still objectively sad, James supposed.

Perhaps it was a good thing that he'd never been particularly materialistic.

Stark Tower was… imposing.

James had called Tony as he approached the building, and by the time he'd arrived at the doors, a pretty redhead was beckoning him inside and introducing herself as Pepper Potts.

He'd heard of her, of course. The CEO of Stark Industries since Stark had decided he preferred to fly around in a tin can, she was a lovely woman until tested. She was almost as high on Hydra's 'do-not-attack' list as Stark was himself.

He probably shouldn't tell her that though, he mused as she led him into an elevator. People tended to be unsettled by such facts, despite the way that James thought it should probably be comforting if thought about logically.

What James hadn't known, but that was now fairly obvious, was that she was quite heavily pregnant. Despite wearing a jacket, she was at the point that nothing short of a sack would hide the bump protruding out from her stomach.

James really was out of touch, he mused. He was quite sure that must have been all over the news.

He followed behind her, the clip-clop of her heels oddly soothing against the floor as they walked. He tried not to pay too much attention to his surroundings, but he couldn't help but notice the abundance of cameras and sensors around the place as they walked.

He was led into a workshop, lit brightly with blue holo screens. In the center, Stark sat on a spinning chair, seemingly tussling with a robot over a spanner.

He looked up when the doors opened and grinned widely.

"Hi!"

The robot arm seemed to perk up, and James watched with awe—and some trepidation—as it seemingly lost interest in the spanner to come over to Miss Potts and James.

"DUM-E," Stark said in a warning tone. "Be nice to our guest."

Miss Potts greeted him happily, stroking a hand down his main strut.

DUM-E lapped up the attention before he turned to James. He beeped at him, and James blinked.

"I think he wants to communicate?" he asked, a little uncertain as he looked up to see Stark watching on with a fond look in his eyes.

"He can communicate just fine," Stark told him softly. "It just takes a while for the humans around him to understand. DUM-E, come here."

DUM-E spun around beeping wildly and careened over to Stark again.

"I know, I know, he'll get used to you," Stark told him with a small smile. "How many times have I told you that you're super special and most people haven't ever seen anything quite as amazing as you before, hmm?"

DUM-E beeped a few times, and if James was to believe beeps could have tones, he sounded happy.

It was incredible.

"Why don't you go and help your brothers clean up, hmm?" Stark suggested, nodding his head to the other side of the workshop, where James could see two more robotic figures moving around.

DUM-E beeped one final time and then did as he was told, leaving Stark to turn his attention back to James and Miss Potts.

"Thanks for going down to get him, Pep," he said, smiling at Miss Potts.

She returned the smile, leaving James' side to press a kiss to Stark's cheek. "Will that be all, Mr Stark?"

"That'll be all, Miss Potts," Stark said with a small nod. He pressed a brief hand to her stomach, and she smiled at him again. On her way out of the workshop, she nodded at James.

When she'd left, Stark glanced at James. "That's going to be my godchild," he said, a wistful smile on his face.

"Oh," James said. "You're uh not—"

"Oh, no, it's not mine," Stark said, shaking his head. "That's not in the cards for me, no. No, she's happily in love with James Rhodes, the War Machine pilot."

James Rhodes, Stark's best friend, high on the threat list, do not approach unless downed.

James shook the thought away. "That's, uh. Nice?"

Stark snorted.

"I… Why do you do this?" James asked. He gestured to himself, and Stark sighed.

"Because it's what I'm good at. These days, anyway."

"I just… don't understand," James admitted. He really didn't and he didn't like it when he didn't understand things. There was so much confusion in his mind already, he preferred everything in his life to have order and make sense.

Stark… Nothing about Stark made sense.

"When I was younger, I was… an asshole," Stark said, shaking his head slightly. "I did a lot of things that I'll never be able to make up for."

"Obadiah Stane," James said, noticing the flinch from Stark. He stuttered on an apology, but Stark waved him off.

"He was selling weapons to the wrong people under the table, and I was too drunk or high to notice. After all that was over, I realised that even if I spent the rest of my life trying to make up for the wrongs, I would never wash the blood off my hands, but… it's still worth it. If I can help even one person, then it's worth my time. That's why I'm doing this."

"To ease your conscience?"

"In a way," Stark admitted. "And also because it was brought to my attention that I have a lot of advantages that others don't, and I can help a lot of people in ways that most can't."

"So… I need saving," James asked. "And you want to help?"

Stark tilted his head. "I don't know if you need saving. I do know that you need help, and if you're ready to accept it, I'll offer whatever I can."

James bit his lip but nodded. "I don't want to see Rogers—Steve. Not yet."

"How about you let me handle Steve," Stark offered softly. "I'll make him see sense."

"He won't be happy," James said.

"No, probably not," Stark agreed. "But then, he'll realise that it's what's best for you for right now, and he'll listen to me."

"You think?"

"I can call him right now," Stark said. "And put your mind at rest."

James didn't want to hear his voice, but he couldn't help but think he needed to know that Rogers would stay away.

He nodded.

"J, get me Cap on the line, wouldja?" Stark requested.

James almost jumped out of his skin when a voice from nowhere replied, "Of course, Sir."

"What was—"

"JARVIS," Stark said. "I'll explain when I get off the phone."

James nodded.

The phone rang, four, five, six times, and then there was a click.

"Hey, Tones."

"Captain, my Captain," Stark greeted cheerfully. "I have a situation."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, per say," Stark hedged. "Okay lookit, you're not going to like what I'm about to tell you, but I need you to listen to me and think about it logically, okay?"

"Okay," Rogers replied, stretching the word out warily.

"So, I've got Barnes here with me at the Tower," Stark said. He opened his mouth to continue, but was quickly interrupted.

"I'm on my—"

"I told you to listen to me," Stark said over him, his tone stern. "Barnes is having a moment, Steve. He doesn't want to see you just yet, okay? And if you insist on coming here, he's going to run even faster than you do when someone tells you there's a sale on Red Velvet cake, you feel me?"

"But, I, Tony—"

"Hey, isn't it better to know that he's safe?" Stark asked, tone softer now. "I'll take care of him, Cap, you know I will. He'll want for nothing, and hey, when he's more comfortable, you can come and see him for yourself, okay?"

"I… he really doesn't want me there?"

"It's not that he doesn't want you, honeypie, he's just a little nervous at the moment. He's not ready to see you, okay?"

There was a moment's pause, and James bit his lip so hard that his mouth was filled with the copper taste of blood.

"Okay. Okay, Tony. Just… look after him okay? And tell him… just tell him I miss him."

"No problem, Steve. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay. And Tones?"

"Uh huh?"

"Thank you. For looking after him while I can't."

"Anything for you, Apple Pie."

The call ended with another soft click and Stark looked at him with bright eyes. "You see."

"He. He listened to you."

"I know, I was shocked the first time he did that as well," Stark quipped. "So, it looks like you're good to stay here for as long as you want without being bombarded by Spangles. Shall I show you around the place?"

James hesitated and then he nodded. And smiled.

It was the first in a long time, but it wouldn't be the last.

Living at Stark Tower was a much different experience than any James had had before. Stark—Tony, he'd insisted—was a good host, in that he left James to his own devices unless James sought him out.

And the best thing about it was that James didn't even have to seek him out in person. He could ask JARVIS—the disembodied voice had taken some getting used to but James quickly grew to love the AI—if Tony was busy without having to go and find him and take on the possibility that he would be interrupting.

Most of the time, Tony was happy to have James join him wherever he was. Most of the time it was in the workshop, but sometimes late at night, Tony could be found in the lounge with his feet propped up on the table, either watching a movie or playing on one of the many tablets that were dotted around the place.

Only a few times had Tony come and found James purposefully, the most recent to announce that Pepper had had a baby girl and he was heading out to see her and would likely be gone for a few days.

He was back now, filled with cheer and a million pictures that he'd shown off on his phone and later, videos on his holo screens of his new Goddaughter. It was sweet, James thought, just how in love Tony already was with the baby.

And… James liked his smile. It was a nice smile. James wasn't sure if he'd ever seen a nicer smile, honestly, but then, his memory was a scrambled mess, so perhaps he couldn't be trusted to make such an assessment.

What he did know about Tony was that the man was busy. He always seemed to be doing something, or speaking to someone. He never really found the time to relax.

Perhaps that was why, when James remembered—or perhaps only realised, he wasn't sure—his love of cooking, he found that spending hours in the kitchen to make Tony smile when he interrupted his work for five minutes to bring him food were the happiest times of James' day.

Tony always seemed happy to see James, but when he brought him food, the man was practically incandescent with glee. Especially when James was bringing cake or cookies or some other sweet treat.

Tony had a wicked sweet tooth. Not that James could blame him; it wasn't entirely for Tony's sake that James often baked instead of cooking 'real' food. He was almost certain he'd cracked the recipe for twinkies, though he didn't make them often.

With access to an always fully stocked kitchen, he'd found many better things to spend his time making than twinkies.

He did think he'd always have a little bit of a soft spot for them though.

It was on such a day—he'd made apple turnovers—when he entered the workshop to see that Tony was talking to Rogers—no, Steve—on a video call.

James froze when he saw his old (still?) best friend. Tony spun in his seat when he saw that Steve's eyes were wide as he looked at something over Tony's shoulder.

"Hey, James," Tony murmured softly. "You good?"

James nodded, though he wasn't sure if he was good or not. But this was perhaps better than seeing the man in person. At least for now.

"Hey, Buck," Steve said softly.

James cleared his throat. "Uh. James."

"What?"

"I go by James," he said, a little louder so that Steve could hear him.

Steve seemed shocked for a minute, but then he nodded his head. "Okay, if that's what you want. It's good to see you, James."

James nodded and then turned his eyes to Tony and lifted the plate. "I, uh. Apple turnovers. JARVIS said you like them so… it's a new recipe."

Tony grinned at him easily. "You're a marvel."

He made grabby hands at the plate, and James shuffled forward to hand the plate over. Tony waved him to the sofa beside him.

"Cap, I'll call you later, hm'kay?"

"Sure, Tones. Bye B—James."

"Bye," James croaked out. Tony waved cheesily and then told JARVIS to end the call, turning his seat to face James.

"Sorry about that," he said, frowning slightly in concern. "JARVIS didn't tell me you were on your way down, or I'd have switched him to just a voice call."

James shook his head. "It's fine. That was… okay."

"Yeah?" Tony smiled slightly. "Well, that's progress, right?"

James nodded.

"Now, let's turn to the real serious business, shall we?" Tony asked, looking down at the plate. "Because these look amazing, and if you don't help me eat them, I'll eat all of them, and you'll have to listen to me whining about having a stomach ache all night."

James snorted, but reached for a turnover. The skin on his hand felt warm where their hands brushed together.

Despite spending so much time around Tony, it took James an abominably long time to realise that he'd developed feelings for the man.

It was confusing, and he wasn't sure he liked it, but in the same breath, he realised that he would do anything he needed to do to keep Tony happy and laughing and, perhaps more importantly, safe.

They were about three months into living together when Tony was called out on an Avengers mission.

"Be careful," James had said, for lack of the words he really wanted to say. He wanted to beg Tony not to go, to stay up in the Tower with James where he was safe, but he knew he couldn't.

Tony was no Rapunzel—late night Disney binges were very informative—after all.

The amount of stress baking James had done while Tony was away from the Tower had been ridiculous. They could have fed an actual full blown army with the amount of food he made.

Possibly not a terrible thing, given that when Tony returned to the tower, he wasn't alone.

He was being carried by Thor, and James shrunk back into himself a little when the God of Thunder stepped into the room. He was slightly terrifying, not least because Tony had told him all kinds of stories about Thor and his lightning weapon.

Behind them, was Bruce Banner, the Hulks slightly more harmless other half. One of Tony's best friends.

"Uh…"

"Sorry, James," Tony said, leaning his head against Thor. "Took a bit of a spill. I'll be right as rain in a few days, but maneuvering myself back here was a bit beyond my abilities by the time the battle was done."

"Why aren't you in the hospital?" James asked, a little bothered about the two unknown people, but ignoring his discomfort in the face of Tony being injured.

"Because he's a stubborn ass," Banner put in, as Thor placed Tony gently onto the sofa. Banner grabbed pillows from the armchairs and stacked them on one end of the sofa, before he moved Tony around so that his leg was propped up on them.

"Keep that elevated, you heard me," he said to Tony, who grumbled but nodded. He was still looking apologetically at James.

Banner rolled his eyes and turned to James. "Elevation is good for injuries like that, so make sure he keeps off it and keeps it up for a few days, okay?"

James nodded, firmly pushing away the tiny part of him that perked up and said Mission Accepted.

Banner smiled at him and then turned back to Tony, brushing his hair from his eyes. "You're a pest when you're laid up, but be nice to James so you don't scare him away, okay? I could never cope with Cap's puppy eyes."

"I'll be good," Tony whined, but James noticed the way he turned into Banner's hand.

"There's uh, food," James offered Banner and Thor, pointing at the kitchen.

"You've been cooking again, James?" Tony asked, smiling slightly. "You spoil me."

"You don't eat unless I feed you," James pointed out, and to his surprise, Banner and Thor both laughed.

"He does that," Banner said, rolling his eyes. He turned back to Tony. "I actually miss feeding you a little. You've programmed me to always make enough for two."

"It's not like it's going to waste at the compound, Jelly Bean," Tony pointed out. "Between you, Thor and Steve, it's a wonder there's ever any food left for everyone else."

Banner snorted, and then checked his watch. "We should head back, Steve is going to be pulling his hair out until we tell him you're fine."

Tony nodded, reaching up with both arms for a hug that Banner seemed happy enough to return. Thor followed suit and they both turned to leave.

"Really," James said suddenly. "You should both take food. I made, uh, a lot."

When Banner's brow furrowed slightly, Tony supplied, "Stress baking. He's really good at it though. You should take the food. But you know, leave me some."

They did as they were bid, and when they left five minutes later it was with a large tray piled with treats.

"Are you okay?" James asked, shifting a little closer to where Tony lay.

"I'm fine, Sugarplum," Tony replied. He sounded exhausted. "But I can't lie like this. Help me up."

"Banner said—"

"Bruce is a goddamn worrywart," Tony said. "I'll keep my leg elevated, Snowflake, but I can't lie flat on my back like this. Hurts my lungs." He tapped the arc reactor and James suddenly understood. He helped Tony move until he was mostly sitting up, with the pillows on the table to prop his leg up.

"Are you hungry?" James asked, once he was sure Tony was comfortable.

Tony nodded. "For your food? Always."

James busied himself with getting food and drinks for them both, and when he returned, it was to find Tony flicking through movies on the large TV. "I fetched a mixture," James said, putting the tray down on the sofa beside Tony.

Tony picked the tray up and balanced it against his leg, and then looked up at James. "Will you sit with me? No pressure, I just—"

"It's fine," James assured him, perhaps a little too quickly, but he didn't really care. He sat down beside Tony and tucked the smaller man against his side a little.

When he was… before the war, he was smooth. He'd remembered enough to know that much. But now… everything was awkward. Thankfully, Tony didn't seem to care, and he was quite happy to lean into James' side and fidget until he was completely comfortable.

"You okay there?" he asked, and James just grinned.

"I'm good. I, uh. I like this."

"Yeah?" Tony asked, tilting his head up to look at James. "I like it too."

"I. I like Snowflake too. But. Uh. Just from you."

"Just from me, huh?"

James nodded, knowing he was blushing furiously, but caring very little. Tony seemed to bring that out in him.

"Huh. Good. I like that as well."

They settled down with the food James had cooked and the movie playing on the screen, and James was quite sure he hadn't been this happy for about seventy years.

"James," Tony said, smiling widely as he waved James over.

James, of course, came like a puppy waiting for a treat from his favourite human, because what was he if not a puppy in love at this point?

Tony was cradling a small child in his arms, and James realised this must be Pepper and Rhodey's daughter, Antonia.

"Lookit," Tony said, a proud godfather if ever there was one. "Isn't she the most perfect princess to ever exist?"

"She's beautiful," James agreed quietly, because she was very cute and she was looking up at Tony like she already thought he ruled the world—which he would, if there weren't so much paperwork involved, James was sure.

Tony nodded happily, cooing down at her. James could see the love and affection shining in his warm brown eyes, and it made him smile because Tony wasn't often that happy, and James wanted to see more of it.

"Takes after her dad, obviously," Rhodes said, entering the room from the kitchen with a bottle in his hand and a towel over his shoulder. "You wanna feed her, Tones. She looks like she's going to scream if I take her off you."

Tony scoffed. "We all know this much beauty could only come from Pepper-Pot, Sour Patch. And yes, yes, gimme."

He held his hand out for the bottle. "Are you hungry, little miss?" he murmured, running the bottle teat along her lips. She sucked the nipple of the bottle in greedily, and Tony smiled down at her as she drank the milk down.

James could only watch on in awe at the sight. Tony looked so natural with a baby in his arms, like it was meant to be. It made James a little sad. Tony had once told him that fatherhood wasn't for him, but this picture made James see that it really was.

Only Tony's fears at not being good enough were stopping him from making it a reality.

"So, you're the other James?" Rhodes said, sitting down in the armchair adjacent to the sofa James had joined Tony on.

James nodded.

"You're taking care of him, I see," Rhodes said and then looked at Tony. "You look healthier than you've looked for years. Are you actually eating daily or something?"

Tony gave him a scathing look. "Twice a day, actually, Dad."

Rhodes blinked and then looked back at James. "You really are looking after him. That's good. He's a disaster if he's left to his own devices."

"And yet, you trust me to look after your daughter if anything happens to you," Tony snarked, taking the bottle from Antonia's lips and lifting her to his shoulder to burp. "Seems like a tactical error on your part."

"Psh, I'd trust you with anything but self care and you know it," Rhodes said, shaking his head. "Besides, this is a good look for you. You should keep him around."

"I intend to," Tony replied, as Antonia let out a large burp. "Oh good girl," Tony cooed, and then grinned at Rhodes. "That, she definitely gets from you."

Rhodes rolled his eyes but then turned his attention back to James, asking him questions about life in the Tower, and Tony's antics. James, surprisingly, found the man easy to talk to, and he answered the questions properly while Tony finished feeding Antonia.

James couldn't help but feel like he was getting a soft grilling like what a father would give a young man interested in their daughter though, and it was a strange feeling.

Particularly when Rhodes winked at him and turned to Tony to say, "You don't get all the fun jobs, she needs her diaper changing as well."

It felt almost like acceptance.

The smell emanating from the diaper made James wrinkle his nose, but he chuckled when Tony gagged.

"Are you sure this is normal, Honeybear?" Tony asked, turning his head away from the smell slightly. "I mean, I'm no doctor, but fluorescent poo is not a good sign."

"It's fine in babies," Rhodes replied, wrinkling his own nose. "Apparently. Personally, I'm not sure how anything so small and cute can make that happen, but Pep says it's normal."

"I'm not so sure," Tony muttered, changing the diaper. He gave Rhodes the used one to dispose off, and then settled Antonia back in his arms with her blanket, rocking her gently.

"So, tell me about that mission the other week," Rhodes said, when he sat back down. "Banner told me you'd been injured."

"He's a great big gossip," Tony complained, shaking his head. "It was a doozy though. Bloody sewer lizards. Like, what even is that? Who thought that was a good plan?"

"You tell me."

"Okay, it was some weird scientist that's got a fetish for big lizards," Tony replied. "I don't know, Honeybear, go ask Fury the one eyed pirate for the details, you know I don't listen to them."

Rhodes snorted and shook his head. "Of course you don't."

Tony shrugged, and then looked down at Antona. "I think I gots the magic touch, Sour Patch. She's sleeping."

Rhodes grinned at him. "Good, at least I know you can babysit overnight now."

"As if you weren't going to let me," Tony said. "It's not like I sleep."

James happened to know differently. Since his accident, Tony had been sleeping on James quite a lot, mostly on the sofa. He seemed to sleep soundly when he was leaning on James' chest.

He wasn't about to tell Rhodes that though, not if Tony didn't.

"So, have you considered meeting up with Cap yet?" Rhodes asked then, and James' mood plummeted. He had been thinking about it, and he believed he was ready, but he wasn't quite done holding onto this life he'd found at the Tower with Tony.

He knew that once he met Steve, it would be a slippery path to moving over to the Compound with the rest of the team, and then he wouldn't see Tony even half as much as he did now.

"What's up, Snowflake?" Tony asked, frowning. "You know you don't have to do it until you're ready."

"I know," James murmured. "I am ready, I just…" He glanced at Rhodes and cut himself off.

Tony's frown deepened a little, but thankfully, Rhodes seemed to read the room perfectly.

"I think I should be heading back, Tones," he said softly, reaching out to take his daughter from Tony's arms. "I'll bring her back in a few days though, okay? Pep says she wants to start coming back into work, so you'll be seeing much more of us soon."

Tony nodded, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to Antonia's head.

Rhodes hugged him with one arm, and smiled at James over his head. "It was nice to meet you. Keep looking after this disaster man child, okay? He needs someone around that cares."

James could only nod and return the sentiment of it being nice to put a face to a name, and within minutes, it was just Tony and James left in the room.

"You wanna tell me what's going on in that head of yours, Snowflake?"

James nodded, and then twisted his lip. "I'm ready to meet up with Steve, but I. I guess, I figured that once I'm comfortable with him, I'll have to move to the compound with him and the rest of the team and well, I like it here. I like it here with you."

"What gave you the idea that you'd have to move to the compound?" Tony asked, tilting his head slightly. "I'm not going to kick you out, babe. You're always welcome here, I thought you knew that."

"I just… I figured that was always the endgame. And I… this feels like… I mean—"

"Home," Tony filled in for him. "I'm glad."

"Yeah. Yeah, it feels like home."

Tony grinned at him, and leant over so he could tug James into a hug. "If you feel at home here, then this is your home. Steve isn't going to pressure you to move; hell, he'll be over the moon if he can just see you."

James held Tony close and nodded into his shoulder. "You'll stay with me right? When we see him I mean? You'll stay."

"As close as you want, Sugar. As close as you want."

James was nervous. Tony was walking beside him, whistling slightly as they made their way into the compound. They hadn't told anyone they were going, had only checked with JARVIS that they were all around.

As luck would have it, Steve, Banner and Hawkeye—Clint Barton, medium threat, capture if possible—were in the kitchen.

"Honey, I'm home!" Tony called, as they walked towards the kitchen, and when they arrived at the door, it was to find Steve already walking towards them. His steps stuttered slightly when he saw James was with Tony, but to his credit, it only lasted a second, before he was swinging Tony into a hug.

"We've missed you," James heard him murmur into Tony's ear, and he smiled to himself. Tony exchanged hugs with both Banner and Barton as James and Steve simply looked at each other.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Steve said, smiling slightly.

"I'm doing better now," James agreed, scuffing his foot slightly on the floor. "Tony helped."

Steve nodded. "He does that. It's what he's good at."

His silver-blue eyes were shining with happiness as he turned his head to look at Tony, who was heading back their way.

"You good, Snowflake?" he asked lightly when he joined them, his hands in his pocket as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.

James nodded. "Good. Better than I thought."

Tony smiled at him and nodded. "I'm just gonna sit over there and annoy Brucie then, okay. Gimme a shout if you need me."

He considered asking Tony to stay for a moment, because he knew that he would if asked, but he let Tony go instead and looked back at Steve, who was looking at him with a curious look in his eyes.

"You like him."

"Of course I do," James said, surprised at such a random statement. "He's… Tony."

"You like him," Steve repeated, with a slightly different inflection, even as he grinned. "You've got a crush."

James tried to stutter out a denial, but Steve only laughed, shaking his head.

"You can't fool me, pal," he said. "I've known you too long. Changed or not, I know the look in your eyes when you've got a crush, and you my friend, have got it bad."

In the end, James just shrugged. "I think he knows. I don't know how subtle works, these days."

"You'd be surprised what Tony can miss when it comes to things like that. So, I uh. I guess this means you won't be coming to live here, huh?"

"I like it at the Tower," James hedged, suddenly nervous.

Steve seemed to sense as much because he raised his hands. "Hey. Just knowing you're okay is enough for me. And maybe we'll see more of you now, huh? You could come with Tony when he comes over?"

James glanced over at Tony, who was watching them with a tilted head, and nodded. "I can do that."

Steve opened his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by an excited Tony jumping up on his back.

"Steve, Steve!"

Laughing, Steve asked, "What?"

"You're here and I'm here! You know what that means?"

"I'm sure I can guess, but why don't you tell me?" Steve asked, as Tony hopped down.

"Pancakes!"

"Of course that's what it means," Steve said, wrapping an arm around Tony's shoulders. "Do you want blueberries or chocolate?"

Tony blinked. "The answer is always both, Steven."

"Silly me," Steve said, shaking his head. "Okay, one stack of pancakes, coming right up."

He walked over towards the stove, and Tony glanced at James. "Are you doing okay?"

"Was that for me?" James asked, nodding at Steve's retreating back.

"Little bit," Tony admitted. "But also, Steve makes the best pancakes, so it's like, win win, yeah?"

"You… are an extraordinary man, Tony Stark," Bucky said.

Tony just grinned. "Yes I am."

James couldn't sleep. He'd been staring at his ceiling for over an hour, listening to the clock ticking softly from its place on the far wall.

There was a soft beep, the signal that JARVIS was about to talk. It had been a way to make sure he didn't startle James too much when he wanted to speak to him.

"Mr Barnes?"

"What's up, JARVIS? Is Tony okay?"

"Sir has had a nightmare," JARVIS said softly. "He hasn't asked me to contact you, but I thought given your own sleepless state, you could perhaps join him in the sitting room. He seems quite… troubled."

James was out of bed before JARVIS even finished talking. He grabbed a hoodie from the back of the chair and pulled it on before leaving the bedroom to pad down the hallway to the lounge.

He made sure to make his footsteps audible, the last thing he wanted to do was scare Tony. When he reached the room, the sight in front of him broke his heart a little.

Tony was scrunched up in the corner of the sofa, his arms wrapped around his knees. He was shaking a little, and he looked paler than he usually did. His hair was a rats nest, and James could see where the ends stood up, like Tony had been pulling at it.

"Hey, Doll," he murmured, walking over slowly.

Tony turned his head towards him and tried to smile, but it didn't quite work.

"What are you doing up?" he asked, voice quiet and a little gruff with sleep.

James shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. Figured I'd come see if you were up."

"You're a lying liar," Tony mumbled. "J told you I was out here, didn't he?"

Chuckling, James replied, "You caught us. I really was awake though. Mind if I join you?"

Tony hesitated for a second, and then stretched his arms out for a hug. James immediately joined him and pulled him close, wrapping his arms around him tightly. He buried his face in Tony's hair for a moment, enjoying the scent of Tony's ridiculously expensive shampoo, as he stroked one hand up and down Tony's back.

He kept it up until Tony had stopped shaking, and then pulled back a little.

"Are you okay?"

Tony nodded, looking down. He tugged James hands until he was holding them both, his fingers skimming over both flesh and metal.

"You know," he murmured, eyes never leaving their hands. "Those hands could kill me." He sighed. "And yet, I've never felt safer with anyone than I do with you."

The words took James' breath away. It felt like a shockwave had run through his entire body at the utter trust Tony was giving him.

It seemed he took too long to answer, because Tony glanced up at him with a slightly crestfallen look on his face and tried to pull his hands away. James held onto them—gently, he would never willingly hurt this man—and thought for a moment before he swallowed against the lump in his throat and started talking.

"You know, I had nowhere to go when I escaped from Hydra. I had that tiny apartment, and at first, the anonymity had it's appeal but… then you came, and I realised that I might have escaped, but Hydra was still winning, because I wasn't living. I was existing, waiting for them to find me and drag me back into the grasp."

"I won't even let that happen, Snowflake," Tony murmured softly.

"I know," James agreed, because he did know that. "You've given me freedom that I never thought I'd have again, Tony. My life is mine again, because of you, but I… don't want it. Not alone. Not if I can share it with you."

"You mean it?" Tony asked, eyes brighter than they had been. "I wondered, but… I'm not always good at reading those kind of signals and—"

"I mean it. I love you, Tony. You taught me how to feel again."

Tony beamed at him. "I love you too."

"Treason!" Tony cried. "I am betrayed, by my own Captain!"

Steve was howling with laughter, practically doubled over because every time he looked at Tony, he started up laughing again.

Tony, covered in snow and pouting adorably, looked at James for help, and who has he to deny the man he loved.

He gathered up the largest snowball he could and took aim at Steve, landing the snow right in his face. He'd felt a lot of regret and remorse in his life, but not this time.

He laughed at the shock on his best friend's face, and scooped Tony up in his arms.

"You want hot chocolate, Baby?"

"You're the best," Tony replied, pressing his hands between them to try and warm them up.

They walked into the Compound, Steve trailing them, still laughing, and Bucky grinned to himself.

Life really couldn't get much better than this.


Written for:

Bromance to Romance: 7. Disguise

Written in the Stars: 19. "Why do you do this?" / "Because it's what I'm good at."

Book Club: Nick: excited, jumping, pillow, extraordinary

Showtime: 12. "I need saving."

Film Festival: 27. "I think he wants to communicate."

Lizzy's Loft: 2. Gold - Only at first did it have its appeal

Elizabeth's Empire: 5. Remorse

Angel's Archive: 15. Silver-blue

Amber's Anime Adventure: 9. Shockwave

They Said What?: 10. "I mean, I'm no doctor but fluorescent poo is not a good sign." - Ant or Dec

Entitled: 3. Treason

Lyric Alley: 3. I had nowhere to go

Hobby Hole: 1. Tranquility

Artist Appreciation: 1. "Those hands could kill me."

Buttons: W3: Crestfallen / O4. Watch / A1. Whistling / E2. Regret

Other:

Fight Club: Fight: Doozy

Auction: Day 8, Auction 3: Bucky Barnes

365: 26. Elevation

Fantastic Beasts: 3. Abraxan Winged Horse: Freedom