Hey there everyone! It's Wednesday again! It's crazy how quickly time flies! I hope you all had a wonderful week and if you didn't, I hope the upcoming chapter can at least put a smile on your face!
Thank you so much for your reviews on the previous chapter! It really means a lot to me!

Well then, without further ado: Ladies and gentlemen- Chapter 24!


Chapter 24

Sam had to learn to say no. Just no. He should have told Bucky that no, he was going on a date with the nice lady from the reception desk at the police station and that he did not in fact, have time to drive Bucky somewhere without Steve's knowledge. He should have just said no.

But… Sam had said yes. Sam had cancelled his plans with that gorgeous lady, probably lost any chance he had with her and why? Because Bucky was regaining his independence but not enough to take the bloody subway. As if that wasn't bad enough, the rational part of Sam's brain was telling him that doing this behind Steve's back was going to come back to haunt him eventually. That, and of course, this was the first time Bucky was going anywhere without Steve or his service dog and although Bucky was going to a place he knew, Sam still worried. That was another thing Sam should stop doing.

Sam didn't even know exactly how Bucky had managed to convince Steve to go to Clint's farm for the day and fetch Flake while Bucky 'stayed home' but Sam was too annoyed to even consider answering that question.

Sam sighed, killing the engine and leaning back in his leather seat, peering out the window at the picturesque house they had parked in front of. He should talk Bucky out of this, really, he should. But if one wanted to be best friends with Steve Rogers, one had to be at least half as stubborn as him so Sam didn't even try to argue with Bucky. He wasn't going to let himself get dragged into that as well.
His focus shifted from the house to Bucky who hadn't said a word since they'd left Steve and Bucky's apartment. It would give Sam a reason to worry were Bucky not despondent to anyone but Steve. Still, it was obvious that there was something on Bucky's mind, weighing heavily on him. What could possibly be so bad that Bucky couldn't talk to Steve about it? Sam shelved those thoughts for the ride home, watching the frown on Bucky's face.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to." Sam offered, "We can get Steve and-."

"No." Bucky cut him off, keeping his stormy eyes on the house. Sam's fingers tightened around the steering wheel so strongly that his knuckles turned white.

"Well you have my number. If you wanna leave, just give me a call. Got… no plans for the afternoon." He made sure to make the last part sound as bitter as possible but he doubted that Bucky picked up on that. It wasn't as though Bucky was inapt at picking up subtle nuances in people's voice, he was extremely good at it in fact, but it was rather that he was far too wrapped up in his own mind and his own thoughts. It was one of those instances where one might think that there wasn't much going on inside of Bucky. Thinking that couldn't be more wrong- his mind was racing, achingly so, his heart beating a little faster than was usual for him, his muscles itching with anxiety.

Bucky replied with a monotonous "Okay" before getting out of the car and slamming the door shut with more force than was necessary. Sam was almost tempted to get out and check whether Bucky had left handprints on the door with his left hand.

"Sure Bucky, it's a pleasure to drive you, really." Sam muttered darkly, glaring down at his black leather steering wheel, "I bet she ain't even gonna call me after I cancelled on her." And with that and a pout, Sam turned on the engine, revving it for good measure before pulling off the curb to go find himself a coffee shop that sold croissants.

Bucky took a deep breath, taking in the colourful smell of an arrangement of different flowers all planted in an array of flowerbeds surrounding the stone path that lead up to the porch. He remembered the smells encasing the property. He remembered the house, the way the doorbell sounded, the way the house smelt inside. He remembered the woman the house belonged to, knew that she always smelt of roses and loved baking brownies. He remembered all the many birthdays celebrated at this very house, remembered the countless summer vacations spent roughhousing in the backyard. He remembered a frail boy with a deep red blush, a deep, warm laugh, messy golden blond hair shimmering in the sun…

He remembered everything.

He raised his eyes to the clear blue sky, blinking against the hot June sun that was beating down on New York. Maybe she was out in the garden? He brushed his metal hand through his brown hair, worrying his fringe that he had so carefully styled that morning with the hair wax that Steve sometimes used.

He was nervous.

He wasn't good at functioning when Steve wasn't around. Out of helplessness, he wanted to switch back to old Hydra protocols that would tell him how to behave but he was astonished to find that they were out of reach, like a word that was on the tip of his tongue but amiss from his mind.

Bucky smiled lightly.

After a beat, he made his way past the white picket fence and towards the porch with heavy footsteps, left shoulder tilting a little with every step. Once he'd made quick work of the few steps leading up to the porch, hesitated. The last time she had seen him, he had hardly been a person. The broken shell he had been last time was nothing like the man he was now. Sure, he was still confused about a lot of things, still searching for missing fragments of memories and trying to find his place in a world of which he had missed four years but he was stable, able to make his own decisions, choose his own path. He knew who he was now and was now finally able to explore the ways the world related to him, where he belonged in this new reality of his. A twist of excitement burst through his thoughts and he lifted his eyes to the door. This was the first time she was seeing him again. This was the first time he was seeing her again. Consciously; without fear or uncertainty.

Peggy had hung a ring of flowers on the door, making her house look even more welcoming. He wanted to reach out and touch the flowers, see if they were real but he didn't, afraid he might damage the fragile white and yellow petals. Instead, his finger pushed down on the doorbell that chimed indoors. He took a step back, fiddling with the hem of his short-sleeved black t-shirt while he waited for her to answer the door.

"Give me a moment!" Her voice enveloped Bucky in a feeling of contentment, flushing his anxiety out of his body for the time being and instead, filling him with a sense of anticipation.

He had missed her.

He blinked back to attention when the door was opened to reveal Peggy in a beautiful blue flower dress that flowed loosely around her sturdy legs, ending at her bony ankles. She was bare feet, her toenails painted a striking red that clashed a little with the azure blue of her dress. Her shoulders were exposed, showing skin made leathery by the sun and by time. She was bonier than Bucky remembered and he was struck by the fact that he had not only missed four years of Steve's life, but of Peggy's as well. This thought brought forth a sense of gratitude that she was still alive, still around to help him, that she had been there to help Steve when Bucky hadn't been.

He snapped back to reality, finding Peggy watching him with uncertainty. She was smiling, as was normal for the cheery woman but her eyes were withdrawn, her body language hesitant. She was still standing in the doorway, her hand still resting on the white door.

"Bucky?" She asked him quietly, hopefully, head tilting to the side curiously when his mouth twisted into a charming smirk, much like the one he used to wear all the time.

"Hey there Peggy." He greeted her bashfully. Meanwhile, his mind was racing through his memories, fervently comparing the Peggy from his memories to the one standing in front of him. He was finally in full control of his mind and in possession of all his memories concerning Peggy Carter. Still, there were numerous small details that were new: wrinkles that hadn't been there before, a certain bend to her back that spoke of exhaustion and old age. Her eyes though… they had stayed the same; a warm chocolate brown that reminded him of hot chocolate and marshmallows on a cold Sunday afternoon with Steve and Peggy, watching those old black and white films from when Peggy was young.

The smile on Peggy's face was nothing short of radiant, making the day a little brighter despite the presence of the ever-scorching sun. The hesitant look on her face yielded, making way for a short burst of sadness that was quickly replaced by a look of compassion and love. She opened her petit arms, offering a hug that Bucky accepted readily, wrapping his strong arms around the small woman. He rested his head on her knobby shoulder, enjoying her warmth against his stubbly cheek. She still smelt of roses, just like she had all those many years ago.

"It's good to have you back Bucky." Her arms tightened around him and a heavy sigh escaped him.

"It's good to be back Peggy. I missed you." He allowed his arms to tighten around her, paying extra attention to not hurting her- he was a lot stronger now than he was before Hydra and he knew that she had become more fragile in his absence.

"Never did a day go by where I did not miss you." She whispered, burying her face in his chest, pushing her fingertips into the muscles on his back weakly, letting herself cling for a moment.

"Well… come on in." She cleared her throat, brushing a rebellious grey stand out of her face before straightening up and taking a step back to smile at him again. She rested her hand on his cheek for a moment, stroking her thumb across his cheekbone before twirling around cheerfully and leading the way inside.

Bucky looked over his shoulder at the front garden, at the empty road, at the space Steve would usually have occupied.

He frowned, walking inside and closing the door behind him.


Bucky peered down at the orange liquid in the glass around which his hands were wrapped. If he looked carefully, he could see fruit pulp floating around the freshly squeezed orange juice. He listened to the sounds Peggy made in the kitchen while preparing herself a cup of tea.

She used to drink tea even when Steve and Bucky would lie on the lawn, unable to move from exhaustion due to the temperatures during summer. Maybe it was a thing English people did. Bucky didn't know.

He jumped when Peggy put her cup down on the coffee table. His head snapped up to look at her, immediately registering the apologetic look she was giving him.

"Should I have said something before entering the room?" She asked him worriedly. He shook his head vehemently.

"I was just lost in thought, that's all."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you've been lost in thought from the moment I opened the door, probably even before that." She smiled softly when Bucky sighed in resignation. He nodded. Peggy settled down in the armchair adjacent to the couch Bucky had settled down on. The white couch was too soft, making Bucky feel uneasy but he tried to ignore it, tried not to fidget.

"What did you come here to talk about?" She encouraged him gently stirring the tea in her cup in rhythmic circles, the movement catching Bucky's eyes. He watched the silver spoon for a moment, transfixed by the swirl of the acorn-brown tea.

"What was I like to Steve before… you know?"

Peggy set her porcelain cup down on the glass table carefully before sitting back in her armchair, considering Bucky for a moment.
He looked anxious to know the answer, a buzz running through his body that animated his right leg to bounce up and down. It was a habit very unlike Bucky. Usually he was very sure of himself and quick-witted, his body reflected just that. Even during his first visit a few months prior, Bucky had had a type of surety about him. His body had been still and solid, a force to be reckonned with. The Bucky sitting in front of Peggy this time around though, seemed confused, like he was dizzy and disorientated. His body language was constantly shifting like a wave being tossed around in the ocean. His shoulders were rounded, like he was trying to make himself look smaller than he was, which, considering his size was quite a feat. When Peggy tried to find his eyes, he averted them, looking at his hands instead while still risking brief glances at Peggy, making the impression of a scared child, waiting to be scolded.
She was in two minds about answering his question straight away. She would much rather sit down next to him and draw him into a hug to try and keep him together. She wanted to reassure him that everything was alright, that whatever was unsettling him, wasn't as bad as he might think it was. Still, Bucky looked desperate and she still didn't know his limits so she chose to trust Bucky's own judgement.

"You were always right at his side." She began fondly after a long pause, speaking slowly so that Bucky could follow at his own pace "You helped him wherever you could, even when he didn't want the help. You were the kind of friend that would make fun of Steve but if anyone else did, you would make sure to teach them a lesson. Steve knew that your teasing wasn't meant seriously and he appreciate it coming from you. You knew his limits and knew how far you could push him, always encouraging him to go beyond what everyone else expected of him." Bucky nodded, retreating into his mind, searching for the memories associated with the things that Peggy was telling him. He was thrilled to find that most of the memories he was looking for were there, whole and vivid.

"The two of you were two halves of one whole. Well, that was the impression that I always got. You were his voice of reason while he was yours. You made up for his lack of strength and he was the calm to your storm."

"He loved art and I loved science." Bucky continued, lost in the memories that were popping up like daisies in spring, "I helped him with school, with maths and science and he taught me how to see in colours."

"Bucky?" He blinked, coming back to reality, to Peggy's living room that smelt of freshly brewed tea and flowers.

"Yeah?"

"What is this really about?"

Bucky hesitated, working his jaw uneasily while he considered whether or not he should really tell Peggy about what had been bothering him. Her eyes were trained on his, searching them for the emotions that Bucky was so desperately trying to snuff out. He swallowed past the lump in his throat.

"We spoke about the girl he dated while I was… with Hydra…" He paused, confusion flashing across his features while he struggled to find the words to express his jumbled-up thoughts, "He told me he was waiting for the right partner and when he looked at me… I could have sworn that… I thought that…"

"You thought that he meant you?"

"I don't know what I thought." Bucky admitted agitatedly. His body shifted and he got up, ready to retreat but not knowing where to go. His mind was doing backflips, unable to comprehend what he was thinking, thoughts crashing together violently in a cascade of different emotions that threatened to cripple him.

"Calm down James!" Peggy's steady voice broke through his thoughts and he froze. Bucky's eyes tracked her movement when she got up and wrapped her arms around him firmly in a grounding embrace that put his scattered pieces back together.
The longer she held him like that, the calmer his mind got, his body stilling eventually.

"I'm sorry." Bucky muttered against the top of her head quietly.

"Everything will be alright Bucky." Peggy promised him, pressing a kiss to his right shoulder reassuringly, "Now…" She pulled out of the hug slowly, glancing over at the glass of orange juice that Bucky had set down on the coffee table. Bucky followed her glance, realizing only then that his throat was bone dry. "Tell me everything. Slowly. One thought at a time."

"I know I just-."

"One thought at a time." She repeated slowly, "It would be mildly insulting if you assume that I would judge you for anything you have to say to me." She added and Bucky nodded, taking a seat again. There was a long moment of silence in which Peggy shifted her attention back to her tea to give Bucky some time to think while Bucky downed the rest of the orange juice in an attempt to get his throat to feel anything but parched.

"All I know is that I…" Bucky hesitated, clenching and unclenching his jaw for a moment before forcing out the words that were hovering in his mind, "I wanted it to be me. I don't want him to go off with some gal Peggy… Is that wrong? I don't know what's right and wrong anymore, not without Steve." He bowed his head slowly, staring back down at his hands again as his own words began sinking in.

"That's not wrong Bucky." Peggy assured him gently, "Want to go on?"

He nodded slowly, gathering the courage to look up at Peggy again.

This wasn't like all those girls he dated back when he still knew how to flirt. This was different, deeper, scarier. He could handle going on a date with some girl but this? He had no idea how to deal with this- whatever it was- not on his own, not in the state he was in.

Still, despite Steve not being an option to talk to about this, he yearned to be able to ask Steve about it anyway, to lean into him and feel that same sense of security that he would always get from being close to Steve but the mere thought of actually telling Steve about what was going on in his mind, terrified Bucky more than most other things ever had.

It felt strange to consider talking about Steve the way he was about to. Steve was his best friend, his brother but now Bucky was slowly starting to realize that above all else, Steve had always been a lot more than what Bucky had originally thought.

"It was just him and me," Bucky went on in a quiet, unsure voice, eyes seeming distant, "I want it to stay that way. I know I don't deserve him, he's too damn good for this world anyway, but I wanna make sure he's happy. Sometimes when he smiles at me, his smile looks different, brighter than usual. Thinking that he might just smile at someone else like that… it…" Bucky let out a heavy breath through his nose, bowing his head helplessly when he failed to put his thoughts into words.

"Bucky…" Peggy shifted in her seat, folding her leg over the other one slowly, "May I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Are you even remotely aware of how much that man cares about you?"


"Just give me a second Flake!" Steve laughed, digging through his leather jacket for the apartment key while the German Shephard shoved her nose at the door impatiently. She was ecstatic to be back home and to return to her duty as Bucky's Service Dog. Steve himself was a little relieved that she was back as well, knowing that Flake was there to do what Steve couldn't- stop the nightmares before they got out of control. He made a triumphant little noise when his hand closed around the key and pulled it out of the inside pocket. Flake's tail began wagging uncontrollably when Steve pushed the key into the lock and once again, she nose-butted the door in hopes that it would give way. Once the lock was open and the door handle was pushed down, the white ball of fur squeezed her way through the narrow crack before Steve could even open the door properly. Steve cringed when he heard her shoulder blades and hips bump against the wooden door and doorframe but the dog didn't seem at all concerned by the rough contact.

"Anyone who says dogs need four legs to move normally, hasn't seen this dog." Steve muttered, grinning like an idiot when he saw that Flake was already completely out of sight, obviously looking for Bucky.
Before Steve had even fully registered the smell of cooking food, his stomach did, announcing itself with a low and hungry growl that made Steve's stomach feel utterly hollow. He rid himself of his boots and jacket quickly before taking the corner to the kitchen where Flake was shoving herself at a smiling Bucky.

"Welcome home Stevie." Bucky abandoned his task of petting Flake for a moment to grin at Steve. Bucky's smile was earnest, alight with happiness at seeing Steve and it made the blonde's heart skip a beat.

"Thanks Buck." Steve answered with a grin that matched Bucky's, sauntering over to the oven to see what was being prepared.

"Spaghetti and meatballs?" Steve's eyes lit up immediately and he licked his lips, feeling his stomach want to growl again in anticipation of the meal, "Buck I love spaghetti and meatballs!"

"I know." Bucky checked the noodles briefly before turning away from the stove to face Steve, smirk in place and eyes alight with amusement, "It's all you ever wanted me to make after I made it for you that one winter when the fever hit you bad."

"Yeah I remember that." Steve mumbled reminiscently, his face softening and turning a little red around the cheeks. He took a step back, leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen and crossing his muscular arms across his chest. "It was the best thing I'd ever tasted!" He remarked, chuckling when Bucky bit his lip for a moment.

"C'mon Stevie they ain't nothing special." Bucky tried to wave off the compliment. "Sides, all you've been doing is cooking for me, thought I might as well get off my lazy ass and return the favour."

"Is that why you wanted me to go to Clint's?" Steve asked him with a tilt of his head, "So you could cook for me?"

"O'course I wanted to cook for you!" Bucky muttered nervously, avoided a direct answer, knowing that when it came down to it, he would never forgive himself for lying to Steve.

"Well, thanks." Steve smiled, taking a step to stand next to Bucky to watch the noodles cook, "This… this is really nice Buck." He admitted earnestly, leaning into Bucky's side comfortably, enjoying the way Bucky leant towards Steve too, probably even without realizing that he was doing it.

"It's the least I can do for my best man." Bucky replied casually, "It's almost done if you wanna lay the table already?"

"Or we could eat on the couch and watch Lady and the Tramp." Steve suggested.
Bucky gawked at him for a whole two seconds before bursting out laughing, almost dropping the metal spoon he had been using to poke at the spaghetti occasionally.

"Are you kidding me?" Bucky cackled.

"You remember that too?" Steve grinned, especially when Bucky had to lean against the counter to stay upright.

"Steve, you were sick for two weeks! If I had known that making spaghetti and meatballs for you would put you into a Lady and the Tramp mood, I would never have cooked it for you!" He paused, his laughter dying down into a happy chuckle, "How many times did we watch it those two weeks? Five, six times?"

"Probably." Steve agreed, smiling to himself at the memory. They shared a moment of content silence before Bucky leant away from Steve to tend to the noodles again, fishing one out of the seething liquid to taste it. "Be done in five minutes, punk, get Netflix up."

"Great! You're the best Buck!" Steve cheered, turning red in the face and lulling back and forth on the balls of his feet with childlike excitement.

"Yeah, yeah I know." Bucky shook his head, rolling his eyes dramatically, "Now how 'bout you hurry up before I change my mind?"

"Do you want some help with…?" Steve stalled, "Do we need something to drink with that? What do you want to drink?" His mouth snapped closed when Bucky arched his eyebrow at him, nodding towards the TV in an exaggerated gesture, "Oh… okay movie. Right. I'll just go and… get that started up…" Steve waved his hands at the TV awkwardly before twirling around on his heel and crossing the living area in a few large strides.
Flake had taken up most of the couch by then, having retreated when she realized that she didn't really stand a chance against Steve when it came to who got the most attention from Bucky.

Steve rushed around the living area with all the little elegance his large body possessed, getting the TV on, opening Netflix and pulling out cushions from underneath a very stubborn Flake to make the couch comfortable for the three of them. He made sure to keep most of the cushions to himself though, remembering that Bucky preferred a harder bed, saying that a soft bed made him feel uneasy, like he was on a cloud that he was only second away from sinking through. Steve figured that couches may fall into a similar category as beds.

Steve had already settled down to the left of Flake with one hand stroking her head idly when Bucky brought over two bowels filled to the brim with steaming spaghetti covered in a tomato-based sauce, each dish topped off with an obscene amount of homemade meatballs. Steve felt his mouth begin to water at the sight. "It's just like you used to make it!" Steve remarked fondly.

"D'ya know why you like it so much?" Bucky asked him quietly while he settled down next to Steve, knee brushing against Steve's gently.

"Besides the fact that you can obviosly cook well?" Steve offered and Bucky chuckled, shoving at Steve's shoulder gently.

"Your ma taught me how to make it." Bucky said.

"Wait... what?"

"I asked your ma to show me how to make it after you told me it was your favourite meal."

Steve straightened, eyes widening and face evening out in surprise. Bucky had….? How come Steve didn't know about this?

"You did that for me?"

"Guess I did." Bucky bowed his head, looking over at the two meals on the wooden coffee table in an attempt to hide his fluster.

"That was real swell of you Buck." Steve muttered breathlessly. Steve couldn't quite believe it. He couldn't believe that Bucky, at the time thirteen years of age, had gone to Steve's mother and asked her to teach him how to cook Steve's favourite meal because… well… what reason had Bucky had?

He'd learnt to cook a lot more than just Spaghetti with meatballs in the meantime so why this meal? Why now?

Despite the many questions running through Steve's mind, he caught himself smiling at the food that was handed to him by Bucky. He settled the bowel in his lap carefully before shifting closer to Bucky, leaning into him more than he had ever dared to. To Steve's surprise, Bucky responded by shifting to allow Steve to sit even closer, shifting his right foot to push it underneath Steve's left leg.

"Wanna start that movie Stevie?" Bucky asked him quietly, leaning his head against Steve's for a wonderful yet brief moment.

"Sure… Oh and Bucky?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for this. I really appreciate it."

"Anything for you Stevie."

The smile Bucky got in response was the very smile he had described to Peggy earlier that day and much in the way it always did, it made Bucky feel light-headed.

If he could make Steve smile like that every day, then maybe it would be enough. His hands had done nothing but destroy ever since he'd enrolled in the army and he had been afraid that it had become all he'd ever be able to do.

This though, making Steve smile, making him happy, it felt like redemption.

It felt like love.

And if Steve smiled at him like that every day, then Bucky thought it would be enough to make him whole again.


Boom! There you go~ Omg please let me know what you thought of this chapter! It's a slow burn I know and believe me, it's killing me as much as it is killing you! xD
Still, I hope you'll stick with me and these two dorks!

See you guys next week!