They had a hearty breakfast ready for Hermione when she woke up the next morning. Steve had left the mirror with Tony, so they called him to get news of Pepper. Tony looked more sleep rumpled than he had ever seen him before. Spending the night sitting in a hospital would do that to you.

"Stable. Most of the stuff is out of her system so there's no risk of her going nuclear, but there are side effects… She's staying under observation today at the very least." He yawned and they heard the sound of coins falling in a vending machine. "I'll call you if things change."

The mirror darkened from the inside of his pocket before the connection cut.

"Rude," Bucky muttered.

"Give him a break. You'd be much worse if that was one of us in a hospital bed," Hermione chided.

"True," Bucky admitted. "I would have told him to shove his mirror where the-"

"Bucky!" Steve exclaimed, if only to shut him up.

Hermione laughed and reached across the table for the bottle of orange juice. Just out of reach of her fingertips, Bucky teased her about it , before pushing it closer to her with his gloved hand, but his metal arm suddenly spasmed, crushing the bottle beneath his metal plates, glass shards flying everywhere. They sat there in stunned silence for several seconds. It happened so fast, none of them had time to so much as raise a hand. As a result, it was their faces that were most severely cut by the flying glass shards. Steve could feel warm blood drip down his own face, but he would heal fast enough. He was more worried about Hermione who had closed her eyes as blood ran into them and hopefully nothing worse. Bucky worried him too. Not because of the deep gash cutting across his cheekbone, but because of how still and quiet he was, far too reminiscent of the Winter Soldier.

"Hermione?" Steve asked.

"I'm fine," she said, the jingle of the chain connecting her to her wand far too jovial a sound right now.

She began casting spells on herself, healing cuts and vanishing blood and glass.

"Bucky?" Steve asked, grasping his flesh hand when he didn't answer.

But Bucky flinched away from the touch and sprang up, sending his chair crashing against the wall before he ran for the front door.

"Bucky!" Steve called after him, but he didn't slow down, didn't even miss a step.

However, as soon as Bucky wrenched the door open, it slammed back shut in his face. Then, the doorknob disappeared, and Bucky just stood there with his back to them.

"Bucky," Hermione pleaded, her voice softer than he could ever make his. "Don't run away from us."

"Buck, look at us. We're fine. Come on, let us help you."

Bucky turned around. He could have kicked the door off its hinges and run if he really wanted to, so half the battle was already won. Steve glanced at Hermione and she nodded, so they both approached Bucky with slow, measured steps. Bucky let them. Another victory.

"I'm… sorry," Bucky mumbled. "I didn't mean to. It's the arm. It's been getting worse. I'm… kinda afraid of it."

Steve had not even realized Bucky didn't consider the metal arm a part of himself, but considering its origin as well as the ominous red star, maybe he should have.

"Is it malfunctioning because I got your fingers cut off?" Hermione asked.

Bucky shook his head adamantly.

"No. I noticed small malfunctions before that. I think… they used to make adjustments to it every time I returned from a mission or was brought out of the cold, but it's all very fuzzy. I hoped it would just stop working eventually, but it hurt you."

"It just jammed at the wrong time, so don't worry about that," Steve replied.

Steve frowned. Between the uncontrollable spasms and the sharp edges of his severed fingers, chances were actually high Bucky would hurt someone again, or worse, himself, and it might not be a lock of hair next time.

"But I do think we have to restrain your arm until we can get someone to look at it."

"Who? A mechanic?" Bucky muttered.

"Maybe we can find a HYDRA guy who knows how to…" but Hermione trailed off, probably realizing for herself what a terrible idea it would be to let one of Bucky's HYDRA handlers anywhere near him.Or… yeah… maybe a mechanic? An engineer? Or a doctor who knows about very advanced prosthetics? There must be someone."

Steve didn't want to address the elephant in the room, but someone had to.

"Tony-"

"No."

Bucky's refusal was firm. Anyone who thought Steve was stubborn had never met Bucky… Steve raised his hands to placate him. He was not going to insist. Not yet, but it was the obvious solution.

"No," Bucky repeated, reading him like a book. "He's got Pepper to worry about right now, and I know you two are pals and all, but you can't make him help the guy who murdered his parents."

"That wasn't you, Bucky," Steve said firmly.

"Maybe not. I still have no memory of it, but it's my face Stark saw in the footage, and it's my face he pictures whenever he thinks of it."

Steve sighed. Buck did have a point. So they switched their focus to binding his arm instead. However, the metal appendage was so strong, only Hermione's magic could help. First, she blunted the fingers so they weren't as dangerous. Then she conjured rope, then chains, but they weren't practical or comfortable for everyday activities, so she petrified the arm instead. Began a day of testing how long the petrification lasted on average and how the arm reacted to it when it was released. As strange as the whole process was, Bucky was relieved not to be a constant threat to everyone else. They even found a way to put a sling around the petrified arm so it did not look strange to anyone else.

The next day, they had enough of staying cooped up, unused to remaining idle for long, even Hermione despite her love of books, so they got ready for a day of work with the other volunteers still cleaning up the mess from the second chitauri attack. The chitauri corpses had quickly been disposed of, because of the smell and sanitary risks, but the streets were still littered with debris from the attack and the crash of all things chitauri once Tony blew up the mothership and everything fell from the sky. There was also a ton of scrap metal from their armors, weapons, and vehicles that they pulled up in one dumpster for the authorities to cart away at regular intervals, dropping another empty one in its stead.

The three of them were disguised, thanks to the rings. Today, Bucky looked like a shy young man thanks to large eyes, soft blond curls, and freckles across his cheeks, and no amount of scowling was keeping the moms amongst the volunteers from cooing over such a "brave boy" working despite his broken arm.

Steve had a hard time not laughing every time Bucky was given a pat on the cheek or a sandwich.

However, the scream from one of the volunteers put an abrupt end to the cheerful camaraderie at the site. Steve ran over, afraid part of the building had collapsed on the civilians. He pushed others aside, ordering them to step back in case more debris fell, only to find that wasn't the problem at all.

A hand, a human one, was sticking out from two slabs of concrete, reaching out as if asking for help, but it was clear it had been there for some time: the fingers frozen, the bones broken, the skin dry and pulled taut over them. It was too dangerous to get that poor soul out of there without heavy machinery, so they covered the hand with someone's vest, cordoned off the area, then flagged down some NYPD officers to explain the problem. Many of the volunteers left after that, not that Steve blamed them. It was a heavy dose of reality to swallow so unexpectedly, and the next hour went by in gloomy silence and fear of another gruesome discovery. Only Bucky seemed happier at the lack of attention he was receiving.

"Hey, what are you doing in the bin?" someone hollered. "Get out, it's dangerous!"

Steve tossed aside a broken fridge to go see what new drama was unfolding. Bucky was already several steps ahead when he suddenly bolted at a run. Steve followed suit, but by the time he reached the dumpster in question, Bucky was nowhere in sight.

"What happened?" he asked the volunteer standing there.

"Dunno. Someone was rummaging in there, but he ran away, and that kid with the broken arm ran after him."

Steve gritted his teeth. How many times had he told Bucky not to hare off on his own?

"Which way did they go?"

The volunteer pointed, and Steve grabbed Hermione's hand before running in that direction, filling her in on the way.

"And he's always telling me off for doing it," she muttered, panting heavily as she tried to keep up with him.

They came to a crossroads, empty save for a few cars trudging through. No trace of Bucky or some suspicious sprinter smuggling space tech.

"Which way?" Steve asked Hermione who laid her wand in her palm, muttering under her breath.

The wand pointed to a well hidden alley, and they ran over. Steve slipped in first, Hermione hot on his heels. He heard the fighting before he saw it, and Bucky was not winning this fight. He was on the ground, his good arm raised to protect himself from a coming blow. Steve reached for a shield that wasn't there, but thankfully, a magical one appeared between the two men, protecting Bucky and sending the other one flying back. Steve ran forward, but the stranger had already ran off, and he kind of panicked when he saw Bucky clutching his chest, out of breath. Even when they had been fighting one another, Bucky had rarely even seemed out of breath, but now, his hair was a mess, his clothes ripped around his good arm and a large bruise was appearing where he could see his chest, right over his heart, as if something very heavy and destructive had rammed into him.

"I'll be fine," Bucky told him. "Just winded."

"Who the hell did that to you?" Steve demanded.

"Dunno, but they had one hell of a weapon. Couldn't stop him."

"Of course you couldn't. You've only got one arm, Buck!" Steve said, stopping himself from ranting because he knew it went right over his head and that he didn't need it right now.

"Did you think you could break out of my petrification charm?" Hermione needled anyway.

Bucky did look a bit sheepish at that, and he raised his good hand so Steve could help him up.

"Come on. Let's get you home, and I'll call Fu- Pierce to let him know someone is stealing alien tech, and probably not for peaceful endeavors."

"That's gonna come back and bite us in the arse," Hermione grumbled.

"It already has, darling," Bucky said. "That fucker attacked me from behind."

Hermione leaned back to look at his behind, and looked torn between worry and hilarity, which was a strange mix.

"You poor thing. I'll kiss it better when we get home," she promised.

It was a good thing Bucky healed as fast as he did, because he was not a patient man when it came to bed rest. He didn't even last a day before he escaped their appartement. Steve was all set to go after him, but Hermione held him back.

"I know you want to protect him, but you can't smother him with kindness. You know how stir crazy he gets."

"But-"

"He has his ring to disguise himself, and I don't think he will go looking for trouble with his arm out of commission for now. Not after last night. He's stubborn, but he's not stupid."

Steve sighed and hung his head. She was right, as always. He just hated seeing them get hurt. If he could, he'd keep them behind his shield forever, but count on Lady Liberty to lecture him about freedom… To boot, Steve swore he could hear the national anthem in the background, which was a bit much if it came from her, but she seemed just as puzzled.

"Do you hear that?" Hermione asked, confirming he was not being over-patriotic.

They found the out of key song came from the mirror, and it was obvious it was Tony's voice in retrospect.

"Tony?" he said to stop his singing, if you could even call it that.

"I knew that would get you to answer. I've been calling your name for a solid minute, you know."

"A whole minute? It must be an emergency," Steve teased. "How's Pepper?"

"She glows a bit in the dark if she gets angsty, but apart from that, looks like a full recovery is underway."

"That's great!" Steve enthused.

"Pepper's a fighter," Hermione agreed.

"But she wouldn't have made it without you weirdos, so I sent you a little thank you gift. No refunds. Bye."

The doorbell rang just as the connection cut, and their eyes met.

"That's scary," Hermione whispered.

"That's Tony," Steve replied with a shrug, shifting to open the door.

On their doorstep was a fruit basket, or that's what it looked like at first glance because of the wicker basket and plastic wrap, but once Steve set it on the counter, it was clear it didn't contain fruit. Hermione undid the wrapping, and picked out the mannequin arm sticking out of it.

"Is this some kind of joke? I have half a mind to stick it up Tony's arse," Hermione said, waving the offending appendage between them.

It reeked of Tony's dubious sense of humor, sure, but Steve knew he truly was grateful for their help with the Mandarin. Yes, even Bucky's. His eye caught something dark on the fake arm and he caught it mid-wave to look at it more closely.

"There's a note," he told Hermione. "Coupon for one arm-repair?" He smiled.smugly at her. "See, I told you guys Tony could help with the arm."

"Because you think Bucky is going to accept?"

"It's a gift," Steve shrugged. "It's impolite to refuse. And it's not like he has another option. He can't keep living with one arm when he could have two."

Hermione agreed reluctantly, setting the arm aside, then reached for the next item: a small disc which looked like a replica of his shield.

"I guess this one's for you," Hermione said, handing it over to him.

The weight surprised him given how small it appeared, and it didn't look like much at first glance, but Tony wouldn't have sent it if it didn't do something.

"I hope it's not going to explode…" he muttered before pressing the star in the middle.

The disc expanded suddenly, so he tossed it in the air. It grew to about the size of his own shield before he grabbed it on its way down. There, on the inside, was a note scribbled in black ink.

So you're never without protection. xo, Tony.

"Should I be jealous?" Hermione asked.

"You can't deny he's got a certain charm," he teased.

"For an old man," she groused, ignoring his amused laugh to search the basket for her own gift.

Steve played around with his new shield. It wasn't made out of vibranium obviously, but it was light and well balanced. Practical in a pinch when he went out incognito and couldn't take his iconic shield with him since it was such a dead giveaway to his identity. He pressed the star again and it folded just as easily and precisely into its pocket form. Ingenious and perfectlt engineered, as expected from a Stark creation. Steve would appropriately rave about it the next time he saw Tony.

For her part, Hermione retrieved a small rectangular box with two stars on its lid. One red and one white.

"I don't even care what's in it. I love it already," she said, sliding a finger over his star and then Bucky's.

"We at least have to make sure it doesn't explode. You know how he loves explosions," Steve said, but in truth, he was very curious himself, even more so after seeing his and Bucky's gifts.

"I'll bet you twenty it's going to be something completely inappropriate," Hermione countered, holding out her hand.

"You're on, sweetheart," Steve said, and they shook on it.

He was pretty sure to win this one. He knew Tony a lot better than her, and he suspected more than most everyone bar Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy. With a smug smile, Hermione lifted the lid, then jerked back when a little green ball flew out and hovered a couple of feet away from her at head level.

"Aah… okay… nope, I have no clue what that is," she admitted, trying to catch it, but it always stubbornly remained two feet away from her.

"Is there a note in the box?" Steve asked, recalling his own personal message as well as Bucky's "coupon".

Hermione lifted the lid all the way, and squinted at something carved inside.

"Robin?" she read.

Her old unit during world war two? They had no time to ponder more about it when a voice came from the little flying ball.

"Hello, Miss. How may I assist you?" it asked, sounding like a female version of Jarvis.

"What are you?" Hermione asked uncertainly.

"Your portable personal assistant. I will answer any questions you may have."

"Really?' Hermione asked with sparkling eyes. Like the distance to the moon?"

"384 400. The equivalent of 30 Earths."

"Who was the first woman to win a Nobel prize?"

"Marie Curie."

"The atomic number for oxygen?"

"Eight."

This went on for a while, Hermione testing the ball in every subject she could think of until she was satisfied. She visibly hesitated at the next one.

"Where is Hogwarts?"

Robin didn't answer immediately for once, stalling for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry. I have no data for such a place. Did you mean Hogshaw?"

"No, it's fine. Thank you, Robin. How do I deactivate you?"

"You can simply say 'Goodbye Robin'."

Hermione followed the simple instruction, and in it flew, the lid snapping close. They just stared at it for a moment. Steve couldn't believe Tony had made such a thing for Hermione. Admittedly, she did complain often about how she couldn't use the internet to look for simple information under threat of frying the electronics. This gift was tailor-made to Hermione.

"I can't believe he made this for me," she said as she picked up the box, her eyes shining, on the brim of tears. "He even used lead for the outer casing to protect it from my magic. He hates lead," she chuckled. "He called it dull and ugly.".

Steve nodded. It explained the flashy painting he had added over it with their stars.

"Yeah, he really outdid himself, didn't he?" Steve mused, not surprised by Tony's generosity, because he had always been, ever since they met, but touched by how much thought he had put into their needs. How many times had Steve reached for a shield that wasn't there? How often had Hermione had to ask for someone else to look up some information on the internet for her? And Bucky's broken arm was an evidence, but that Tony had even offered, knowing what that same arm had done… He was a better person that Steve was.

Now, how were they going to convince Bucky to accept the gift?