Clint gets home from his job, walking up to his apartment to see a post it note on his door.
No.
-H.S.
Is all it says.
Clint's brow furrows and he tries his key, only to find that the key cylinder has been changed.
He looks at the note.
H.S.
He groans. Howard.
—-
Clint's knocking on the Stark's door and he's let in by Jarvis who welcomes him warmly. "It's been too long, Mr. Barton."
"Hey, Jarvis, thanks." He walks into the grand entryway and sighs, "Is Mr. Stark here?"
"Indeed. He's in his lab. Would you like me to lead you down there?"
"No, I know the way. Thanks." The man nods his head and is gone. Clint makes his way to the elevator and takes it down, stepping out and hearing the music that Howard always has playing. The glass partition lets him see in and he stops at the sight of Steve, sleeping on the med bay bed that Howard had brought for all his tests.
He's shirtless.
Clint has not seen Steve shirtless in months and it's—
A rap on the glass has him looking up to see Howard waving him in. He steps inside and Howard speaks quietly, "I was hoping he'd be up and gone by now, but he's so tired I didn't want to wake him.
"His skin…" Clint says softly, pointing at the yellow patches, "what's that?"
Howard frowns, following Clint's eyeline. "His liver is in a constant state of distress. But the yellow is a bad sign. It's starting to fail."
Clint shakes his head, "how long has he been here?"
Howard looks at the clock, "he fell asleep maybe an hour ago, and he'd been here since 6ish. I assume you're here about the note?"
The post-it is in his pocket and he pulls it out, "this you?"
Howard glares at him. "Damn right it is. You guys don't get it. I find out you're practically living in a slum, and you think I'm just going to let thta slide? Hell no."
"Mr. Stark—"
"Howard."
"Okay, Howard, I don't know what Steve told you, but—"
"Steve is the worst poker face on the planet, but he didn't tell me a damn thing. I went to your parents' place because I wanted to ask their permission for something. Only to be told by your mother-in-law that you had been asked to move out. I asked for your new address and when I saw that dump, I was livid. Clint. I'm literally made of money. Does no one understand this?"
"I can't take—"
"I'm not finished." The man says crisply. "I have all your stuff here. It's in my garage. You have two options. You move in here, I've got a guest bedroom. Or you take the apartment I already picked out for you. It's near your job and that school. In which you have been re-enrolled and tuition paid."
Clint feels his stomach drop, "I can't—"
"You can. And you will. I'm tired of people turning me down for some stupid idea that it will damage their pride—"
"Ouch."
They both turn to Steve who is eyeing them blearily.
"Steve." Howard says calmly, "you're awake."
"Yeah, how long was I out?"
"A bit. Clint's here."
"Hey Clint."
Clint's eyes flash to the yellow sallow skin stretched tight over everyone of Steve's ribs. "Hey Steve."
Steve glances down and slowly crosses his arms over his chest. "What are you doing here?"
Howard hands Steve his shirt and Clint watches as he puts it on, his face pinched in pain the whole time.
"Howard's trying to get me to move somewhere else. But I'm not going to."
Howard glares at him, "and why is that?"
"I'm not some charity case. I'll get by on my own."
Steve laughs, "you think that's going to stop him?" He stretches, grimacing, "If telling him that worked, I wouldn't be a human lab experiment right now."
Howard throws up his hands, "you're both unbelievable. When did accepting help become a bad thing?"
"I'm just saying," Clint responds evenly, "I'm fine. I appreciate the gesture, but I'm all good."
"Yeah Howard." Steve says with a smirk, "Me too. I appreciate all this but I'm good." Clint gapes at him as Steve's face turns towards him slowly and a knowing smirk crosses his lips. "So it's a deal. Since you're refusing Howard's help, I can too."
Clint frowns, eyebrows pulling down, "It's not the same."
"The hell it isn't." Steve snaps. He's getting down off the bed, about to say something else, when his knees buckle and he almost falls. He catches his balance on the edge of the bed and straightens his legs, "alright Clint. Let's go. Independence here we come."
Steve takes a shaky step forward and wobbles again. "Steve—" Clint starts, feeling panic rising. "Stop, okay, Stop, I'll let Howard help."
Steve pauses, "you promise?"
"I promise."
Steve nods, then straightens and walks normally towards the elevator. "Cool."
Howard laughs, a loud disbelieving laugh that makes Clint realize he's just been played.
"You're a little shit, you know that?"
But Steve just bows stiffly as he gets on the elevator. "Thank you, and good night!" With a theatrical wave, the doors close and he's gone.
Clint sighs and looks back at Howard who is fiddling with something on his lab table.
"So what'll it be kid?" Howard asks, "here or somewhere else?"
And Clint considers the options. Thinking it might be cool to live with people who would maybe kind of be like a family…
"Here." He says softly.
Howard looks up and smiles widely, "I hoped you'd pick here. Your stuff's already in your room. Jarvis knows which one."
And that makes it feel already a bit like home.
—
Natasha's recital at the end of May goes so well, she's approached by dance scouts after. She's talking to them from different schools in the tri-state area and feeling elated that she might have an actual chance of being a dancer, for real.
She can feel Bucky's intense stare on her, and she flashes him a quick smile that she knows he returns. Peggy steps up and gives her a quick hug. "You were phenomenal!" The girl says with a grin, "you're a literal star."
"Thanks Peggy, I'm so glad you could make it."
"I FaceTimed Steve during your part, he said you did amazing, he's excited to see you when you get home."
Natasha's smile faded a bit at the slightly sad look on Peggy's face at her words.
"That's so nice of you, thank you for doing that…"
"He said he didn't want to miss it."
They both fell silent for a moment at the thought of Steve, too tired and sick with pneumonia to get out of bed and come see the recital.
"I'm going to go check up on him, is that alright?" Natasha nods and Peggy gives her one more quick hug before disappearing.
Clint and his mother-in-law say hello and 'congrats' before having to leave.
Yelena pops up with Rebecca and Wanda close behind. They hug her and squeal about her performance. Sam and Sarah and the rest of the kids congratulate her and they all go out to eat to celebrate.
Bucky sits beside her, his arm around her shoulder and they sip on a milkshake together, laughing and talking with everyone late into the night.
They get back to the house and both Sam and Natasha see Peggy's shoes still at the front entrance. They lead the kids up the stairs, instructing them to go straight to bed.
Natasha pushes into their room, seeing the lights mostly on. She takes in the scene. Steve is pale and wheezing slightly, laying flat on the bed, pillow on the floor. But he's smiling and talking softly with Peggy who sits in a chair beside his bed. They both look up at the sound of their entrance and Steve gets on his elbows, "Nat, you did so well! You looked amazing up there!"
Sam is close behind her as they approach. "Thanks Steve, how are you feeling?"
Steve's smile doesn't waver, "I'm doing fine. Just a bit tired."
"Well, it's late. You should get some rest." Sam says softly. Peggy easily picks up that cue.
"I'll come by soon to see you again, alright?"
He nods and sags back, grabbing his pillow.
Once she's gone he looks at Natasha and sadness is present in his look, "I really am sorry I couldn't be there."
"Steve, It's fine, I'm just glad you're feeling better."
Sam places a hand over his forehead and nods, "your fever seems less."
Steve bats his hand away. "Can we not focus on me for like 5 seconds? I want to hear about Natasha's dance."
She smiles and launches into a dissection of each moment, and he listens intently.
—-
Bucky stares at the letter in his hand. When Howard had handed him the college application to MIT, he'd laughed and tried to hand it back. But the man had frowned at him and pointed at the papers.
"Apply." He had said.
"Why?"
"Because I think you belong there. You've got skills, I've seen you fiddle with the stuff in the lab. And I don't like wasted potential."
Now here he stood with their response. And it was a big envelope.
His parents stare at him, wide eyes waiting for him to open it. And he finds he can't.
"What if it's a no?" He asks hoarsely, "what if they don't want me?"
His dad laughs, "Bucky, no matter what it say we will be proud of you, but just open the dang thing!"
He nods and rips into it.
"Dear Mr. Barnes,
We are pleased to inform you—"
He's cut off by shouts and cheers and he joins them as he processes that he's been accepted to one of the best schools in the country.
—
B: Well, I'm headed Tony's way.
He sends the message before he can chicken out. Announcing to everyone where he was going.
T: OH NOOOOO WAAAYYYYYYYYY! Let's GOOOOOOOOOO
C: What! That's awesome, dude! Congrats!
His phone starts to ring and it's Natasha. He picks it up and winces at the loud screaming and cheers and yelling in the background.
"Hey guys." He says with a laugh. He can hear Natasha and their whole room, Wanda, Pietro, Peter, Yelena, Daniel, and others cheering him on.
"We're so proud of you!" Natasha says in a rush, "you're going to do amazing!"
"Thanks." He says quietly. They talk for a few more seconds before she steps out of the room. "I'm going to miss you." He admits, "it will be weird not seeing each other every day."
She laughs softly, "that's true, but Tony's here all the time, so I know I'll see you as often as we can. And we haven't even kept up on our bargain to go see him. So now we have even more reason to go."
"You better visit."
"I will!"
Bucky looks at his phone. "Is Steve there?"
"No, he left early to prepare for his last day of his art class, remember? He probably hasn't seen the text yet."
"Oh, right. Okay yeah."
"James, don't worry, you know he's going to be thrilled for you."
"I hope so."
"He will."
—-
Steve stands looking at the massive gallery they've been allowed to take over for the evening. Each student was allowed to select a few works for all their class assignments and display it in 'their' section. Professor Sif had also selected her favorites of their works and put them on display.
He wants to blush as more than half of the selections of his classmates include their art of him.
"You're an interesting subject matter as you can see." Professor Sif comments, holding a small cup of lemonade. The dim gallery sets a cozy tone and the soft music permeates the air.
"It's strange." He admits, looking at his face, shoulders, back, all on display, "I feel like I should be embarrassed."
"Of what?"
"Being so exposed."
"A raw and beautiful moment for sure. A moment of true art that you didn't have a medium for. Just you on that stool. That was art in and of itself. All life models are that way. Living statues of beauty. Don't let your mind tell you otherwise."
He looks up, and she smiles a genuine smile at him. "It's been a pleasure to have you in class Steve. I'm glad you joined us. And your artwork is—" she glances around, smiling and looking at him with a raised eyebrow, "don't tell the others, but it's some of my favorite."
He laughs and she moves on, talking to other students.
A soft hand covers his glasses and he stiffens.
"You thought I wouldn't find out?"
He relaxes, "Peggy."
"Indeed."
"What are you doing here?"
"You mean, why didn't my boyfriend tell us about his art exhibit that his class was holding so that way we could come and appreciate all his hard work?"
He narrows his eyes at her, "we?"
She raises an eyebrow, "you thought I would be foolish enough to keep this to myself?" She turns him around to see a group of people standing at the entryway.
Sam, Howard, Bucky, Natasha, Clint, Tony.
"Oh." He says blankly, suddenly feeling his heart rate skyrocket.
She catches his tone and steps in front of him, "Steve? I—" She looks back at the group who hasn't spotted them yet, "I'm sorry, did you not want them here?"
His voice is a rasp, "not really."
Her eyes widen and her face contorts into worry, "whyever not?"
"Because I—" He looks around the wall. His own back and scars and face on display, exposing him. He hadn't told them about the life model thing. And he hadn't shown the work that he was going to display. For a very specific reason.
She follows his eyeline and sees the painting of his back. Her eyes go wide and she looks back at him, "I—" she starts, but then he hears Howard's voice,
"Steve!" He winces and turns towards the man, "You rascal, why didn't you tell us it was a gallery?"
He tries to smile, "didn't think you guys would want to come."
The rest of the group crowds around and he greets all of them.
"So," Tony starts, looking at him, shaking his head, "thought you could keep this a secret, huh? Well your girlfriend is smarter than you."
Steve laughs weakly, "yep. That's true."
"Come on, show us around." Natasha says eagerly, "I want to see your display."
"Oh, I don't know." Steve says quickly, trying to keep the panic out of his voice, "my stuffs just—" he doesn't elaborate, waving his hand noncommittally, "you guys should check out the next gallery over."
They stare at him, suspicion creeping into their faces. He sighs, knowing there was no use. "Look around. You'll know which display is mine."
"How?" Clint asks, looking at him warily.
"You'll know."
—-
Clint makes his way through the artwork. He's not really an artsy guy, but he has to admit there are some cool pieces.
But he keeps seeing Steve. Steve's sharp face, shoulders, his back. The scars. Open and exposed and Steve just sitting on that stool calmly.
Once he'd seen the first one, he'd turned to find Steve and ask what it was about only to find that he'd disappeared.
"I am assuming none of us knew about this?" Tony asks in a flat voice as the four of them stare at the detailed oil painting of Steve's back.
"Nope." Bucky snaps.
"Not at all." Natasha says a bit wearily.
"Look at the date in the corner." Clint says, pointing to the signature and date. "The day the lawyers first accused Steve of all that shit."
They sigh, talking quietly as they move from display to display. Finally they find Sam standing in front of a display, frozen with eyes wide.
"What is it, Sam?" Natasha asks, turning towards the display.
Clint's brain freezes.
The letters that title the display reverberate through his brain.
Lost and Found Family
It's them.
The bottom pictures capture his eyesight first.
Clint sees his own silhouette, sitting on the edge of the bell tower, looking out at the city. The charcoal sketch somehow capturing the sanctity of the place he'd taken Steve.
Then he sees Natasha, a water color of her in her recital dress, capturing grace and movement as her leg is mid-lift.
Tony and Howard share an image, an angular drawing in pen and paints, sharp points and graceful edges all somehow encompassing the unique relationship the two maintain. They're sitting in the lab, arguing about something, but Tony is laughing.
Then Clint sees Bucky, fists raised and face angry and fierce as he glares at someone that Clint can't see. The shadow of Steve is off to the side and Clint remembers being told about this day. The day Bucky pummeled the senior who picked on Steve.
He looks up, seeing Sam in the center, dark deep oils capturing Sam's easy grin and lighthearted manner. He has an eyebrow raised and a hand outstretched towards the viewer as if asking, "you coming or what?"
He sees Peggy's portrait off to the side, and he does a double take. She's in profile but even from here he can see the absolute care and precision that went into capturing her essence. She's smiling, her sheer dimpling ever so softly and her hair is done in soft waves. Red lips and a brown eye stare so lovingly at someone that it makes Clint almost blush. He knows she's looking at Steve. He's seen that look before.
Then his eyes go higher and he sees what Sam was staring at.
—
Bucky takes it all in, the portraits of them, the way Steve has created a family portrait gallery, but his eyes are on the same thing the rest of the group is looking at.
The Lost section.
5 portraits, all done in black and white hang in an arch above the colorful portraits.
The first on the left is a little Steve, young and short, and scrawny, and he's staring at a gravestone. His mothers.
The next one is Steve staring up the basement stairs as two looming figures stand illuminated in the doorway, just figures silhouetted, but Bucky knows it's Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt.
Then there's a portrait of hands. Little hands. All reaching towards the painter. Bucky recognizes the little scar on the palm as Peter's, and the nails on the other as Wanda's. These kids, his siblings, reaching out to Steve, needing him.
The fourth makes Bucky's blood run cold. The dumpster. The dumpster with two identical male figures throwing a trash bag into it. A Steve shaped trash bag. No one would know except those who knew. But it still makes Bucky lightheaded to see it that way.
The fifth is a person sleeping on a hospital bed. The back is to the audience, but the light hair is recognizable, as is the skeletal frame.
"I recognize you all from the portraits." Bucky turns to see a beautiful and imposing woman standing behind them. "You must be Steve's family." Sam's still staring at the dumpster, but he nods. "I'm Professor Sif. I was Steve's teacher these last two semesters."
"Nice to meet you," Howard says quietly, his eyes on the portrait of the hospital bed. "He chose to display these works?"
The professor points to the bottom ones, the one in color, "he chose these, he liked the liveliness of them and how they captured different aspects of life and the human form in different positions." She studies the top ones, "I, however, chose the top ones. We had a long discussion about how to blend the two for his display and what he wanted to call it. I think the name is fitting."
"Where is he?" Natasha asks.
"I believe he went to get some air." The professor says softly, "I just wanted to say hello and let you all know how highly Steve spoke of all of you." She steps forward and lightly lifts the portrait of Sam off the wall. She turns it around and holds it out to him. Bucky can clearly see the words scrawled in Steve's handwriting on the back.
Dad #1
Sam looks ready to cry when she hangs it back up, slowly taking down the one of Tony and Howard.
The same handwriting adorns the back
Dad #2 and Selfless
For the first time in a very long time Tony is speechless. Staring at the words in disbelief.
Natasha's says Encourager
Clint's says Confidant
Peggy's says The Right Partner
And Bucky holds his breath as he's shown his. Two words.
Brother & Protector
He stares at the words, unable to look away.
—
Steve slips away as they start to look around, unable to see the faces they'll make at his display.
He finds the door out to the stairwell and leans against the cold railing, trying to take deep breaths so his watch won't alert Howard.
He sinks to the step and rests his head in his hands.
The door behind him opens and soft heels let him know who has joined him. She sits beside him, resting a hand on his knee.
"Steve?"
He doesn't look up. "Yes?"
"Please look at me."
He picks his head up, and he sees sorrow in her eyes. "I'm ever so sorry. I should have asked. I just thought you were being typical you, downplaying everything. I knew your family would want to see your work and I just thought—"
He shakes his head, "it's fine Peggy. No need to apologize."
She grabs his chin, "maybe I don't need to apologize, but I do want to thank you."
"For?"
"For the words, on the back of my portrait."
He feels a heat rise from his chest at the intensity of her gaze, and she's pulling him forward, kissing him so urgently he feels his heartbeat rise. Her hands wrap around his neck, pulling him closer and the emotion and panic and everything he'd been feeling wells up, releasing itself as energy into the kiss. He wraps his arms around her waist, practically pulling her onto his lap, being more bold than he ever has been. She gasps a bit at the motion but smiles and resumes kissing him, smiling and looking at him so softly in between each one.
She tilts her head and kisses the space behind his ear, making his nerves fire. His fingers tighten around her waist and she laughs.
"I shouldn't be sitting on you." She says softly, trying to slide off his lap.
"Stay." He says, ignoring the way his joints do protest at the extra weight. He doens't care, he wants her here. "Please, just for a minute."
She looks at him and nods, resting against his chest, her head on one of his shoulders and nose pressed against his neck.
"It's all beautiful." She whispers, "your work. It's amazing."
"Thanks." He responds, "I had some good inspiration."
She presses a kiss to his neck and he sighs, "they're going to wonder about them though."
She nods. "Yes. But it's an easy explanation. Those moments were life changing for you. And this class was all about life models and human form and all those things right?"
He nods, and she continues, "exactly. Those humans impacted those moments. The way their bodies behaved affected yours. Does that make sense?"
He laughs, "I think so, but I'm not sure they'll buy it."
"Well, then I suppose the only other option is for you to stay here in this stairwell wil me forever."
The laughter from both of them echoes down and soon she's kissing him again, long kisses that leave him breathless and tired.
Her hand is sliding under his shirt, her warm skin touching his cool, making his chest ache with how fast his heart is beating. Her nails gently scrape against him and she continues to kiss him, as he holds her tightly.
The door behind them flies open and Howard bursts through, looking panicked.
His eyes land on the two of them, Peggy practically in Steve's lap, Steve with her lipstick on his face and neck and the man reels back in surprise.
But Steve doesn't even have the energy to feel embarrassed, "Howard? What's wrong?"
Howard's voice is amused and a little off-kilter as he speaks, "I got an alert, your heart rate was way way too high. I thought you were having a heart attack or something."
Peggy laughs and slides off his lap, wiping at his face, "that was my fault. I apologize."
Steve can hear the others following, probably got nervous if Howard took off out of nowhere.
Howard steps back, holding up his hands, "sorry, uh— sorry to interrupt."
Peggy laughs, and Steve leans back, his heart rate calming down, "I promise it was merely kisses." She looks at Steve with a loving smirk and then back to Howard, "gorgeous man or not, I would not be caught being untoward in a stairwell."
"Steve?"
Steve sighs at the appearance of Sam's voice. "I'm here and I'm fine."
Sam's head peaks around the door and he instantly puts the pieces of the puzzle together. "Geez, Howard."
"How was I supposed to know!" Then he winces, "but seriously, Steve. Your heart rate was way too high. I don't mean to be a buzzkill but you're going to need to tone it down, if you get what I mean."
He can hear the others listening just out of sight and he groans and closing his eyes, and leaning back as Peggy laughs, resting a hand on his cheek. "I promise not to get him too excited."
"Stop." Steve responds, "can we talk about something else please?"
"Come on." Peggy says, standing up and offering him her hand, "let's go look at your classmate's works."
—-
Bucky and Steve are walking down the hallway, heading to their lockers when they hear the commotion.
They quicken their pace and turn the corner, seeing a large crowd, outside one of the English classrooms.
Closer inspection has them seeing a security guard talking to a teacher who looks visibly shaken.
"What happened?" Bucky asks a nearby girl.
"That guy, the one who yelled at a teacher a while ago? He's not going to pass onto the next grade because he's failing a few classes, but he came after the English teacher, threatening to harm her if she didn't change his grade. Thankfully someone called campus security and got him away from her in time. He looked like he'd gone insane, like crazy dangerous. I think he'll be expelled"
"Good riddance." Bucy says easily. The crowd disperses and Steve looks into the classroom, seeing her talk to another teacher, face drawn and shoulders shaking as she cries.
"Poor lady." Steve says, "no one deserves to be treated like that."
Bucky nods as they head back towards their classes.
—