I'm Hopeless Blue Kiss, a new author to the Marvel and Captain America fandom. I know, I know I should be working on my other works in my other fandoms, but it's Halloween and I have been dying to step my toe into something Marvel related. So sorry, not sorry. I hope you enjoy. Reviews fuel me so if you want this to continue, please comment.
Not Giving Up, Just Giving In
Chapter One
Sam honestly didn't know what to say or what to do when he carefully opened the door at 3:00am, unarmed, to a soaking wet Bucky Barnes carrying a baby.
He just sighed deeply looking at the sorry sight before him.
The brunette looked half wild, eyes wide and frantic as he occasionally looked left and right as if to make sure no one caught him unawares in this torrent. He shifted from foot to foot, the sounds of his socks squelching in his sodden shoes, looking ready to bolt at any moment. His teeth chattered together when it wasn't worrying at an already abused bottom lip. His brown hair, that he tried to contain in a ratty, old baseball cap, was dripping fat drops of water on the swaddled bundle.
Bucky readjusted his cap without fully lifting it and aggressively wiped his forehead with his soaking sleeve in vain, before he once more repositioning his arms to feebly try to shield the small child the best he could with his canvas jacket. A jacket he must have hastily taken off once it had started to really pour outside.
There was no baby bag or proper baby paraphernalia other than the standardized baby blanket that came with most hospitals. Bucky own sole possessions were either on his body or properly strapped inside an old, dirty-looking school backpack.
It was honestly as if the rain that was still pouring down in torrents outside, had washed the miserable twosome, sopping wet to his doorstep. Sam was speechless and would be genuinely surprised if the bedraggled two fugitives were wearing anything that wasn't soggy and cold by now.
Well, he did have one thing to say…
"Did you steal that baby?" Sam asked bluntly, even as he opened the door wider for the ex-assassin to slosh past him and further into the house. The avoidable wet brush up of him passing through, left a wet streak against Sam's white t-shirt he had put on in haste to greet his unwanted guest.
It would figure the moment that Sam had ran out of all his sick days and vacation leave from working at the Veteran's Affairs and officially called off the volunteer search to a crestfallen Steve Rogers; that the blonde's oldest and dearest friend would show up and with a fucking baby in tow.
He had thought he left this weird super-hero shit behind in New York City with Steve.
Sure, it had been fun at the time to dust off the ole' wings and relive his glory days. It was a damn good feeling to know he did Captain America a great service when he had no one to rely on; but a red-headed ex-Soviet spy who forced her services on the blonde, and a good Samaritan who saw a man who needed a friend were not life goals for one Sam Wilson. Not when he still had bills to pay and reality to remind him he wasn't a spring chicken to go chase after every villian of the week. No his ass was fine right where he is with a door always open and an ear available to his star-spangled friend.
"She's mine," the ex-assassin rasped out even as he scrapped back a wooden chair in the kitchen and plunked down in it as carefully as he could with his precious cargo.
"Mine like, 'finder's keepers' mine. Or she's your like–" Sam began, not missing a beat even as he locked his doors and quickly moved to the freshly made laundry in the linen closet to pull out towel after towel to hand to his new guests.
"I birthed her," he bit out, glaring at Sam. Then winced and quickly made soft cooing sounds when a feeble cry, started up from the swaddled infant in question.
"Becca, my Becca we are safe for now. We are going to be dry and warm soon," he rasped out. He quickly shimmied out of his backpack, letting it fall to the floor with a squelching thud. His flesh arm cradling his child, even as his metal one deftly unzipped the bag and pulled out a not so dry, but still adorable, little, wooly lamb that made soft bleating noises.
The ex-assassin smiled softly when his daughter quieted her fussing and cooed at the ball of fluff he quickly laid by her head. He then tossed his sopping jacket aside and began to remove her wet swaddling things, a grunt of approval given when a soft, dry towel was offered to wrap his offspring in.
He slid the kitchen chair back suddenly, almost making it fall in his haste. His once more sleeping daughter carefully laid in the middle of the circular, wooden table, swaddled strategically in towels to make a makeshift bed. Bucky's icy cold fingers began to methodically strip away his rain saturated clothes, leaving them in a pile on the kitchen floor until his goose-pimpled skin was bare to the climate-controlled air.
"Dude, seriously?! You gonna show all your business right in the middle of my kitchen with a minor around!" Sam hissed out lowly. His arms currently holding a couch blanket, nearly dropped the fabric in his suprise. His mind hadn't wanted to focus on the fact that a naturally born male could physically birth a child. But considering the man was over one hundred, but still look to be in his 20s and had a clear scar across his heavily muscled abdomen, it could only be HYDRA's doing.
Sam just shelved that matter for later, needing to prioritize and beginning to rattle a mental list of what he could offer the little refugees. He needed to make Bucky comfortable enough before he posed the question of when he could call Steve and let him know his friend had finally resurfaced and was with him now. But all that came screeching to a halt as his eyes couldn't help tracing across furry appendages that seem to move on it's on from the top of Bucky's head and just above the swell of his ass. They clearly looked like wolf ears and a furry wolf tail, but there were no such things as werewo—
"I had to run. I couldn't let them have her. I won't let them make her into a weapon like they did me. They did… so much to me…," Bucky began to mumble in choppy words. His furry chocolate brown ears folding back against his skull in his ire.
Sam heart dropped to his shoes at Bucky's admission. But he honestly didn't know what he could do with the agitated ex-assassin and a venerable young one within the vicinity as the naked, brunette began to aggressively pace back and forth, edging more and more towards hysterics.
He tried to murmur something soothing, along the lines of… "You're safe now." "We can work things out." "I'm your friend." But any attempts to ease closer to retrieve the slumbering child and rescue her from her irate parent was met with a flash of glowing blue eyes and a new set of fang teeth bared in warning.
"Are you fucking kidding me?! Of course, of course this shit is–Chill, chill I'm stepping away," Sam tried to reassure. 'This was going to be a long night…Er… Morning,' he thought. It was too early for this level of bullshit. But he had experience dealing with crises even if they weren't quite as unique as the situation that he was in right now.
Bucky looked at Sam wearily, as he took a protective step closer to his offspring. Hands, that were tipped in deadly, sharp claws, quickly bracketed themselves on either side of Becca's sleeping head. His naked upper torso leaning forward, as if to shield and prevent any attempts at stealing what was clearly his.
Becca was the only blood relative, alive, that Bucky was willing to drag into his already complicated life. His many sisters, including his little one's name sake, had all passed away while he was stuck in a vicious cycle of slumbering and killing.
Until now.
He was broken until Becca. Hydra biggest mistake was given him a reason to fight back against his programming and conditioning because it wasn't just his miserable life at stake now. It was also, this sweet, innocent child, that couldn't judge him. That loved and relied on him unconditionally and he needed that.
She was his sanity.
The only reason he was here now, willing to trust a practical stranger, that was once his foe. Days, he stalked Sam to make sure that he was genuine and would provide him and his daughter with the since of security and normalcy that they so desperately needed. But if his haunch turned out to be wrong, he would fight literally tooth and nail to eliminate the threat at hand and protect his secret.
Bucky's biceps buldged and tensed; his gaze unwavering, even as Sam took yet another careful step back from the situation at hand.
"Mine!" he growled out.
"Yes, of course man. She's your baby. Has your eyes and everything. Just a little wonder. I would never take what was rightfully yours," Sam said soothingly in his best counselor's voice. His hands were held outward; palms open to show that he held no weapons. "I want to be your friend and we don't hurt friends. Isn't that, right? You came here because you needed a friend. You want to keep you and your baby safe."
"Safe," Bucky repeated, nodding in agreement.
His blue eyes slowly stopped glowing and his canines were suddenly the same sharp, dullness of any human being. The brunette was reluctant to say 'friend' yet, because trust wasn't something he was used to giving considered his checkered past. But he was willing to see how things went and as long as Sam knew his place, they could work their way towards friendship.
"Great. That's a start. Now why don't you take a nice, relaxing shower? Maybe a bath. Both you and your daughter need to be warmed up properly before putting on some clean clothes. Whatever we need to say can wait for later in the day when you've had some proper rest, don't you think?" Sam helpfully suggested, giving the ex-Soviet a chance to make his own choice.
Bucky nodded in the affirmative after a few minutes of silence. He had weighted and measured Sam's words to make sure there were no falsehoods or traps. But he couldn't help but agree that getting the filth of being a fugitive off him and his child and warming up his chilled bones, would be heavenly. His teeth reflexively clenched to keep from chattering once more even while he gently scooped up his child and looked expectantly at his host to show him the bathroom.
Sam couldn't help but snort, his couch's blanket now long forgotten on the floor in his haste to show he was still unarmed. He gathered it up once more and laid it on his kitchen table, shaking his head to himself at how Bucky was now suddenly acting like Sam hadn't just masterfully diffused the tense situation. So, he mentally patted himself on the back and kept it moving, because he was nothing if not a good host. His Mama taught him well.
He led the way. His hands turned on the lights as he went, wanting to make sure that nothing in his household would startle the ex-assassin even if he was now a different species. He wanted it to be clear he had nothing to hide to put Bucky on the defensive again.
"Ya'll guys can stay in my guest room once ya'll are done in the bathroom," Sam said over his shoulder. He paused to open the door to the room in question before pointing further down the hallway. His hands opening one of the doors in the hallway, in route to the bathroom. "Coincidentally Steve stayed in this room when he was on the run from Hydra too. There's a nice size queen bed in there and if you need anything, my bedroom is at the end of the hallway. And this… this is the bathroom you can use," Sam instructed even as opened that door next.
"There's a spare toothbrush under the sink. Fresh washcloths and towels over their on the metal rack. Also, some shampoo, along with a bar of Dove soap by the bath tub and if you want I can bath your daughter in the sink while you take a much-needed soak." Sam neatly slipped in the last offer even as he stepped aside and allowed the tired father to step inside.
Then before any of the baring of the scary claws and fangs, as Bucky sharply pivoted, Sam quickly added, "I'm not leaving the room with her. We can all fit in here comfortably and you can just as easily watch her from the safety of the bathtub or beat the shit off of me if I try anything funny while I bathe her in the sink here," Sam reasoned even as Bucky looked at him in silent judgement.
Sam licked his lips nervously, unsure if Bucky might have mistaken his kindness for another poorly veiled attempt to take away his daughter. Honestly, Sam couldn't blame the ex-Soviet assassin for distrusting him.
He read Bucky's files. Knew about most of the experiments and ways they Hydra operatives kept the brunette under their thumb for so long. There was probably more besides the mostly redacted files and the grainy, poor quality videos that Bucky's handlers had. But he had seen enough to give him nightmares and make him more than empathetic to his situation; especially now that Bucky was responsible for a precious little one.
Sam had been so caught up in his thoughts, that he was pleasantly surprised when Bucky carefully pressed the sleeping baby close to his chest, silently bidding him to carefully cradle her.
"Hello Darlin', my name is Sam Wilson," he murmured softly, in that special voice reserved for little ones. He instinctively began to lightly rock her, wanting to keep her nice and calm when he realized her big, blues were trying to focus on him. "I'm your daddy's friend. Please to meet you," He offered the baby a gap tooth smile and let out a soft chuckle when she loosely grasped the pinkie he offered.
Sam knew he was acting corny, introducing himself to a baby that clearly wouldn't understand what he was saving. But something about kids, especially small ones like a baby, made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. So he lifted his head and was ready to give Bucky a grateful smile for even trusting him this much to hold her, when he jerked in surprise at how close they were.
When he said close, Sam meant, he hadn't noticed the light dusting of freckles on the brunette's nose. How lush and pink his lips were. Or how deep and blue Bucky's eyes truly were. He meant the kind of aqua blue that you wanted to dive right into on a hot summer day; they were frame by long, pretty lashes that kissed the high parts of his cheekbones.
Bucky was fucking stunning, even with dirty, drying clumps of brown hair, and his eyes watching his daughter like a hawk, for any signs of discomfort so that he could snatch her up again. Not to mention the fact that at no point during the exchange, had he forgotten that this gorgeous man was standing unabashedly naked as the day he was born.
"Easy big guy. I got her. You need to take care of you," Sam said, waiting until Bucky refocused his gaze on him, glaring, before Sam continued. "I don't know you like Steve did. We got off to a rough start more than once in the past. But I'm honestly going to try my best to do right by you and your child. All my planning to kick your ass once I see you again when you flung me acroos is just, poof, gone. No grudges man, not after you let me hold this bundle of cuteness. I just need you not to get sick. So get your ass in that tub and warm up or Imma call Cap," Sam warned good-naturedly, before lightly bumping his shoulder with Bucky's.
"Don't call him," the brunette said bluntly. He looked like he was preparing to roughly shove him back in retaliation for the playful bump. But thought better of it as his eyes flickered down to his child. "Just... please... I'll be good..." he whimpered in defeat, before forcing himself to turn away from his child in order to confront the tub in question.
Shivers racked Bucky's body, even as brown eyes bore into his vulnerable stance. Heart clenched at those last words, Sam swallowed roughly and slwoly turned on the facuet of the sink. "Yeah, man. Whatever makes you comfortable," he said gruffly. He was determined, in that moment, to make this man-made werewolf and his child feel as safe and comortable as possible. Sam scrunged up a smile to give to the baby, and gently settled her in the sink, with the towel acting as padding. Then grabbed the washcloth.
"Let's get you clean up baby girl."
To be Continued…