"This is nice." Bucky took another bite of the pasta as Talia filled his glass and Steve watched her with a soft smile.
She had spent hours planning tonight; pouring over recipe books, asking Tony for wine recommendations, shopping with Wanda and Nat. She had poured her heart into making it the most normal evening they could share and right now she was the picture of a perfect hostess.
"Oh it's nothing really. It's just oil and garlic, a couple of chilli peppers." She shrugged as she took her seat again. "I did make the pasta by hand though."
Bucky's laugh was quiet and low and he shook his head as he spoke.
"Not the pasta, you idiot."
Steve took a swig of beer and grinned.
"Rude." Talia grunted.
"I mean, this is nice." He waved his fork around as he gestured and Talia glanced at the tiny apartment she sat in. "You two being all domestic, here, in Brooklyn. Me, the child you never asked for taking full advantage of it all. The pasta's good too."
Steve chuckled as he placed his hand gently against Talia's back and rubbed small circles against her skin. It was true. Sitting in the apartment he had practically grown up in with the woman he loved and his childhood best friend; this was something special. He watched silently as the two of them giggled and threw childish comments back and forth and his heart was truly at peace. He watched as Talia laughed, tucking her hair behind her ears and leaning forwards. She was happy and calm and beautiful and he loved her.
"Steve?"
"Hmm?" He turned to Bucky with a distracted gaze and a small smile and Bucky grinned.
"I asked why you brought this place in particular."
"You know why." Steve shrugged.
"I know. But I've never heard you say it, and Little Widow wants to know too." Bucky smirked as he sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, watching as Steve shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He knew why Steve had chosen this place to hole up in when S.H.I.E.L.D had pulled him out of the ice. He knew why he'd kept it cozy and comfortable, even when he spent ninety percent of his time at the compound.
He knew that the small bedroom at the end of the corridor, the second door on the left, held some of their happiest childhood memories at the worst of Steve Rogers' times. There had been countless nights in which the cushions from the couch had been pushed into the room and the two friends had stayed up reading and drawing and talking about the future. It had been their sanctuary when Steve had been beat in the school yard, and when Bucky had been mortified after he'd been shot down by Hazel Nelson the night he asked her to go to the school dance in fifth grade. It was their sanctuary for weeks after Steve's mom died. This apartment was their home, even when home felt broken.
Steve sighed.
"I got this place," he turned to Talia with a soft smile, "because in the thirties -"
"God I forget you're so old." She grinned when he shook his head and raised an eyebrow at her.
"Yes, I am very old." He pecked her lips quickly and she giggled. "Now are you done interrupting?"
"Unlikely," Bucky scoffed.
"Again," Talia laughed as she turned to face the super soldier twisting his pasta onto his fork, "rude. Please continue Ice-Pop."
"In the thirties - yes I'm an old man but you love me - I was happy here. And when I came out of the ice, and I thought Bucky was gone, I needed somewhere to be broken. This is the place that put me back together one hundred times over, so I got Fury to pull some strings and I got this place."
"So it was your childhood home?" Talia twisted in her chair, trying to picture a young Steve sitting on the couch with his mom after her shift, or hunched over a small desk in the corner doing his homework or scribbling in his sketch pad.
"Nope." Bucky chimed in again and Talia swung to face him. "It was mine."
*
Bucky had cleared the table of dinner plates, loading the dishwasher and cleaning surfaces quickly before bringing the dessert to where they sat in the living room. He had a smug look of satisfaction as he placed the dish on the coffee table and Talia's jaw dropped.
"You make cheesecake?"
Steve snorted as he lay across the couch with his arms around her, her back pulled against his chest and her knees up. He nuzzled his face into her neck and she laughed as she felt his breath fan against her skin.
"No. Mrs Rotherson made cheesecake." His whisper was loud and deliberate and Bucky grimaced.
"You couldn't just give me five minutes of enjoyment could you Rogers?"
Talia laughed as Steve shrugged nonchalantly and pushed himself to sit up properly, unwrapping his arms from her.
"Who's Mrs Rotherson?"
"She's Bucky's lady."
Bucky's laugh was a bark. It ripped through the room with pure, joyous amusement and Talia frowned. Why was that funny?
"She's the neighbour at the end of the hall," Bucky corrected, passing Steve and Talia a slice. "She's around ninety, she kind of takes me in each time I hide out here, oh and she's blind."
*
"I've decided to sit the next mission out." Talia grimaced as Steve's entire body stiffened behind where she sat, leaning against the couch. "Maybe a few more too."
She didn't dare to peek up at him, or outright turn to face him, she couldn't bring herself to judge his reaction. They hadn't exactly discussed this and considering the way she'd reacted to him trying to keep her off of missions it might have been a touchy subject. Instead she glanced to Bucky who was staring directly at Steve. It did nothing to calm her nerves.
"You're not doing this for me, are you?" Steve's voice was low and calm; almost too calm. "Because we spoke about this Runaway, and I don't want you to think you have to -"
"No." She cut him off, finally turning to face where he sat on the couch behind her. "I'm not sitting out for you Steve. I've just been feeling a little off lately and I don't want to put myself or anyone else at risk because of it."
Steve visibly relaxed, oddly soothed by the openness of her admission, and leant forwards, pressing a soft kiss into her shoulder as she turned back to the television.
"You okay?" Steve's whisper fanned across her skin and left the heat of kisses behind.
"Anyone else?" Bucky smirked when she nodded. "Is it James Rogers? Is that why you're sick?"
Talia's smile dropped from her lips instantly, her mouth twisting into a firm line as she clenched her jaw and her eyes turned into green seas of ice. If it didn't amuse him so much, Bucky might have been scared. But he knew her too well and he knew this look: her annoyance was surface level and not directed at him.
"First of all." She spoke through gritted teeth and Bucky bit back his laughter as Steve shifted away from her reach. "I am not pregnant, thank you James. And secondly -" Her icy gaze shifted to the man now smiling sweetly towards her as he held his hands up in surrender. "You roped Bucky in on the name thing? Really?"
Steve opened his mouth to defend himself and Bucky finally gave in to his laughter, but Talia held up her finger, silencing them immediately.
"Let me make something perfectly clear Gentlemen." She pushed herself to her feet and advanced on Steve, leaning in to him so that her lips were just a fraction of a breath away from his. "No child of mine will be named James. Do you understand me?" She pressed a small kiss against the corner of his lips as he grinned and Bucky groaned.
"Yes Ma'am." Steve snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her against him, trapping her lips with his own as Bucky threw himself back against the floor and covered his eyes with his metal hand.
"You keep telling yourself that Widow," Bucky groaned.
Without another word Talia slipped out of Steve's grip and pounced. She landed on top of Bucky with a thud and instinctively his hands wrapped around her wrists as he flipped to pin her down. They laughed buoyantly as they wrestled like this, landing playful blows against each other's ribs and shins as their grunts and giggles filled the space. They laughed and they fought and Talia froze as the atmosphere shifted.
There was a morose darkness that crept through the previously peaceful space. It was painful and quiet and devastatingly precise in its origin.
"Steve?" She pushed away from Bucky and stood still. Her eyes were trained on him. His eyes were empty chasms, void of the light laughter that had been so present for so long. His chest rose shakily and his lips were parted. His hands lay limply before him and his phone was on the floor. Something was wrong. Something was wrong and Talia didn't know how to fix it. "Ice-Pop? What's wrong?"
"N-nothing." He looked away from her, avoiding her gaze and her chest caved. "I just - erm - I need a minute."
She watched as he rushed from the apartment, leaving everything behind and she stepped forwards to follow. The soft grip of fingers on her wrist stopped her from moving but so did something else; something much more painful. There was only one reason Steve would ever be so broken, so quickly.
"Give him this Tal. He needs it." Bucky frowned as realisation dawned on him. This was something Steve needed to process alone.
*
In the stairwell that led to the place he had always seen as a haven was a dark corner and in the dark corner Steve broke. His chest heaved with heavy and broken sobs as his entire body shook. He couldn't breathe. Every shallow gasp felt like razor blades scraping through his throat. He gripped the railing beside him as he screwed his eyes shut and tried to black it out. He couldn't do this. He couldn't break like this. Breaking like this would only hurt her. He didn't want to hurt her. He tried to focus on her; her laugh, her smile, her whispers and her caresses. He tried to focus on his Runaway, but his mind swam with memories and a fresh tsunami of agony came for him, pulling him under and throwing him into the darkness of grief. No, he didn't want to hurt Talia, but he was hurting.
Peggy was gone and he was hurting.