𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄.
❝ lay in your arms
when the world is burning ❞
WALKER RUNS.
And they catch him.
In a warehouse not far from the murder scene, they close in on his crouched figure. Shards of pale sunlight cut in through the high windows and cracks in the concrete, casting ugly shadows on the whole scene. Helicopters rumble overhead, clearly meaning they're not the only ones on the hunt. The four of them circle the man like birds of prey, slow and careful, treating him like a bomb that might blow at any moment.
Walker is whispering to himself, screaming and sobbing to himself, running his hands over the cowl over his head. There's blood still splayed across the shield and his chest is heaving, a maniacal look in his darkened blue eyes.
Svetlana feels sick to her stomach, tears in her eyes at having seen such a thing. She's seen death in battle, in the line of duty. She's been the cause of it too many times to count, in all those days of murder and gore in the time of her childhood. Yes, it was ugly and awful and sickening and wrong, but it was not like this. A choice of senseless brutality to end the life of an innocent.
Svetlana understands now. She didn't have a choice. But Walker did.
Sam speaks first, "Walker?"
His eyes roll up to look at them as they stop not far away, the darkness in his eyes growing deeper, "You guys should see a medic, you don't look so good."
"You should take a look in the mirror," Natasha points out lowly.
"What?!" Walker growls, voice straining as he grows more desperate, "You saw what happened. You know what I had to do. I killed him because I had to! He killed Lemar!"
"He didn't kill Lemar, John. Don't go down that road." When he scoffs, Bucky shakes his head to the side, "Believe me, it doesn't end well."
Walker's expression twists and he spits, "I'm not like you!"
"No." Svet agrees, voice low and threatening, "You're nothing like him."
Bucky looks at his daughter, breath catching in his lungs.
"Listen, it was the heat of the battle. Okay? If you explain what happened, they may consider your record." Sam levels with him, tries to make him see sense, "We don't want anyone else to get hurt."
Her senses are screaming at her. Blood keeps dripping from the shield, landing like small grenades on the concrete. She can feel the heat of it on her cheeks. She can taste the iron in the air. The bitter scent makes her stomach churn and she has to cover her nose.
"John..." Sam calls amidst the haze, "You gotta give me the shield, man."
Walker slowly lifts his head, scoffing out an embittered chuckle, "Oh, so that's what this is! You almost got me."
"You made a mistake."
Walker's nostrils flare, his eyes completely red now, chest still heaving.
It was always going to come to this, they all knew it would. The moment they chose a good soldier over a good man, there was only ever one way it would end. It would be like this — them against him.
"You don't wanna do this," he growls.
Bucky's eyes slowly roll up, "Yeah, we do."
Her father makes the first move. They all follow behind him. While Sam soars up overhead, Natasha snaps out her electric batons as Svet shoots her grappling line towards his arm, yanking it viciously to the side so Bucky can land a punch. They're a good team, the four of them together. They move around one another without having to tell the other what they're doing. Fighting with each other is easy. And while this fight should be easy, four on one, the difference remains: Walker is fighting to kill.
A hard fist crashes across Bucky's face and when Walker raises the shield, Sam backflips to kick it aside. Natasha fires a Widow's Bite at his neck that he barely blocks, but with a swing of his massive fist, Walker knocks her painfully off her feet. Svet races past her, kicking off the edge of a column to throw a punch that meets the smooth side of the shield. Through it all, the man holds onto the shield somehow, snapping it from hand to hand as he strikes out at whoever gets close.
Walker attacks them like in a frenzy. As Sam swoops from above and Bucky throws punches, Svet trips Walker with a baton of her own as Natasha launches herself at him. Her legs wrap around his neck and chest, twisting her upper body until she can knock him off balance. Desperate, unsure of how else to get free, Walker has no choice but to crash the both of them into a nearby lift so Natasha's head smacks against the metal. She drops to the ground with a groan.
Bucky leaps in, punching harder and harder until he's got Walker against a pillar, the shield trembling between them, each battling for control. Walker's growl turns to a scream as he twists it loose and ducks just in time for Bucky to punch through the metal beam over his head.
Svet runs forward and slams her knee into his center. She ducks beneath a wild swing of his fist and then punches him back just in time for Sam to dive in next, taking another kick across the face before Walker throws the shield back at Svet. Bucky quickly shoves Svet out of the way just in time for it to collide into his chest instead, smashing into a wall halfway across the warehouse.
Walker sprints and slams him up back against the wall again, crushing into him with the shield once more between them. Veins appear on Bucky's head as he bares his teeth and tries to push back, angry eyes boring into the other man's.
"Why are you making me do this?!" Walker begins to scream, "Why are you making me do this?!"
Then Svet watches in horror as the man hurls her father across the warehouse and into a massive piece of machinery. The lift bursts with electricity and the bright light zaps through her father's body, rendering him unconscious and limp on the ground.
"No!" Svet screams from where she's sprawled on the ground, forcing her aching body up and sprinting over to him.
The fabric around her knees tears as she skids beside him. She tries her best to pick him up and hold him to her chest, hands on his cheeks as she tries and fails to wake him. The electricity will be too much for him, she knows. It will only bring back memories of the chair, of the twisted throne that they made him the king of, of the electricity that snapped through his brain to make him not himself.
Natasha tries to distract Walker from them.
She takes him on, first and batons flying, but he backs her against one of the columns. He swings the shield towards her head but she moves out of the way in an elegant twist. She gets her footing and tries to punch back, but the man grabs her fist and throws her feet into the air. She lands on the concrete and yelps in pain, breathing heavily.
Sam soars over but the shield collides into his chest and Walker brings him down. The man screams as he brings down the shield again and again until Sam's wings snap open and fly him back to safety and on his own two feet.
"This isn't you, John," Sam once again tries to reason with him.
Walker cocks his head to the side, a vicious smile on his face, "We could've been a team!"
Sam swoops forward, snagging a line around the shield. It drags Walker across the ground as Sam tries to yank it loose, wings straining under the weight. Finally, Walker screams when it gives it another yank, taking Sam down with him. They both hit the concrete, the shield clattering free between them.
Both men look up at it.
In a desperate dash, they lunge at the same time, but before Sam can get it, Walker tackles him away. The wings carry them through the air, but Walker gets the upper hand. Soon, he's on top of Sam, taking off his cowl and wrapping his hands around Sam's wing pack. Sam hoarsely yells and tries to fight back, but he's out—strengthened as Walker's eyes grow even darker still.
Finally, the wings break loose with a vicious burst of sparks and then Walker is raising the vibranium shield high over his head, ready to do the same thing to Sam as he did to the Flag Smasher.
He roars, "I am Captain America!"
Svetlana springs forward, screaming, "No, you're not—!"
Her fist catches off his jaw, knocking him to the ground and away from her uncle.
And then it's just Svet against Walker.
They grapple for a few minutes before the fake captain uses the shield to slice towards the girl's head, but she slides to dodge it. She spins to her knees, aims in his direction, and fires her grappling hook. It latches onto his arm and she spins once more behind him, trying to pull the limb behind his back. Instead, he winds up the cord until she's just in front of him and then he kicks her across the face.
Svet cries out as her back slams into the concrete, eyes widening in horror as Walker lifts a massive black boot and then crushes it down into her ribcage.
The sound of bones crunching and her own screams echo in the cold air of the warehouse.
"No!"
Bucky hurls his body at Walker, tackling him away.
Natasha is at Svet's side in an instant, giving up the fight for the sake of their daughter.
A new and vicious anger has invigorated Bucky's fight as they go hand—to—hand. It's only when Walker has the shield back to Bucky's throat that Sam is able to step back in. They get him trapped against a stray machine, his shield—bearing arm held out to the side as Bucky holds him in place. Sam's energy thrusters whine and power with light as they fight to twist the shield from his unrelenting grip.
When the arm breaks, they win back the shield.
But even with the shield back in Sam's rightful grasp, Walker doesn't give in.
He limps over, murmuring, "It's mine."
"It's over, John."
"It's mine!" He growls, throwing one stray punch.
Bucky catches it easily, holding it back as he slams his own fist across Walker's face. His head snaps to the side and Bucky tackles him across his front, lifts him up and hurls him into Sam's waiting shield.
They all scream when they hit the earth, the fight finally over.
They each lay there for a long moment, all five of them panting heavily, bloodied and bruised, exhausted in more ways than one.
Bucky gets up first.
He gets to his knees and drags up the bloodied red, white, and blue shield, dropping it at Sam's side with a dark expression on his face. Across the floor, Natasha is holding Svet between her legs, arms gently wrapped around her quivering daughter. Svetlana whimpers as she rolls onto her side, shaking arms cradling her broken ribcage.
No one says a word.
Then Bucky limps over, meets Natasha's eye, and the parents share a silent grim look. Without another word, the mother helps the father pick their daughter's aching body into his arms before carrying her away.
━━━━━━
IN THE AFTERMATH, the news is blowing up with news of Walker being arrested. The GRC is conducting raids to try and find Karli, but she's gone so far underground that they'll never find her. After the police questioned them and the med teams checked them out, they are left in semi—peace.
Natasha has a gash on her forehead and a bruised wrist, but she's fine for the most part. Sam looks a little worn and Bucky's left eye is dark, but they're fine too. They're all hovering around Svetlana whose shirt is hoisted up beneath her bra and they've just finished wrapping her ribcage.
The shield sits untouched on the table.
Sam watches her carefully, "You gonna be okay?"
Natasha answers when Svet doesn't, "Four broken ribs, bruised spleen, bruised kidney—,"
"I am going to be fine, yes?" Svet cuts in, still looking a little dazed, "I heal extra fast, you know. The serum does have its advantages sometimes."
Bucky finally lets out his first exhale in an hour, looking at least a little relieved.
"Never know how to stay out of trouble, do you Slugger?"
She gives him a lopsided smile, "Not if I can help it."
Just then, dressed in his tan and green camo, none other than Joaquin Torres waltzes into the warehouse.
Svet is too tired to think of blushing and being shy now, all that softness feels cracked out of her. But when he sends her a brief smile, she smiles back all the same.
The young soldier is already teasing Svet's father, "Hey, you got your sleeve back!"
Bucky grits his teeth, rolls his head forward, and moves towards the side door.
"Are you off to take care of Zemo?" Sam calls after him.
Bucky pauses and looks back at them, heavy gaze darting from face—to—face. His morning sky eyes linger on Natasha and Svetlana for just a beat longer, his meaning lost of them both the man turns and disappears out the doorway.
Natasha tightens her jaw, "James—,"
But he's already gone.
For the first time in her life, Svetlana doesn't try to follow him.
He's on his own path now.
Natasha runs a hand through the length of Svet's hair, gently bumping her head with hers.
It's a comfort. It's enough.
"All right!" Torres calls after Bucky rather half—heartedly, "Good to know you survived."
They all sigh before Natasha asks, "So, what will your next steps be?"
"Hang on, aren't you...?" Torres points at her, quirks a brow, and takes one look at each of their faces. This is no time to be shocked over the sudden resurrection of the Black Widow. He tries to take it in stride, swallowing hard, "Captain America killing a foreign national in public, it's kinda like a big deal. Like 'international incident' big."
"Not our first one of these," Svet points out softly.
Natasha snorts tiredly but shoots her a look, "Not something to be particularly proud of, Svetti."
"Yeah... That's totally normal." Torres eyes them both cautiously, "Folks, uh, higher up on the payroll are all over it now." Eventually, the soldier explains, "As you can see, they've cordoned off the whole camp, and Karli's a ghost. After what went down, she is laying extra low. Like, under—underground."
"And that's why it makes sense for us to get involved." Sam insists, "The longer we let her regroup, the harder it's gonna be to find her."
"She's got people helping her from all over the world, on all platforms. She's really, really good at this thing." Torres glances at the wings, "How'd these break?"
Sam sighs but doesn't answer.
"Anyway, all we can do now is sit tight and just chill. Sometimes, there's nothing to do until there's something to do."
"That's bizarrely wise."
Torres chuckles, "Well, I'm a bizarrely wise man, Sam."
"Yeah, all right." Sam chuckles back, "Thanks, Torres."
"For sure." But when Sam picks up the picks and looks ready to leave, Torres stops him, "Wait, yo, don't forget the wings."
"Keep 'em." Sam is ready to let the wings go before he glances over at Natasha and Svet, "Where you guys planning on going?"
The two redheads look at each other, that silent language that they're still trying to learn between them speaking volumes. Finally, mother and daughter look back at the man, equally blank and tired.
Sam smiles a little, "I know where you guys can go."
This time, Sam goes to Isaiah Bradley's home by himself — their conversation is one they needed to have alone, but he takes Natasha and Svet to Louisiana with him. When they arrive, a feeling of home immediately washes over Svetlana. Sam's place is a big white and blue farmhouse on the bank of the Delacroix marsh that looks well—loved and well—lived in. A warm woman with her hair pulled back, gold hoops in her ears, and bright smile on her lips greets them at the front door.
"Ladies, this my sister, Sarah," Sam introduces, hand motioning from person to person, "Sarah, these are my friends—,"
"Yeah, I know, Sam." Sarah cuts him off, hand raised before she looks between each woman, "Pleasure to meet you, Svetlana, I've heard a lot about you. Hey Natasha, how you doing?"
"Fine, thanks."
Sam blinks in bewilderment, glancing between his sister and friend, "You what? You two know each other?"
"Sure." Natasha teasingly rolls her eyes at him, "You don't think I checked in with families after the Snap?"
Sarah laughs at the look on her brother's face.
Svet smirks and playfully nudges the man, "Aw, but this is sweet, Uncle Sam, you talk about us?"
"Shut up," her uncle groans, playfully ruffling her hair, "Before I change my mind about letting you guys crash here."
They're briefly introduced to Sam's cute nephews, AJ and Cass, before they're directed upstairs so they can rest and Sam and Sarah can catch up. In a strange sense of deja vu, Natasha and Svetlana are once again in a Wilson household, cleaning themselves after yet another battle. They sit in the guest bathroom upstairs, Natasha drying out her hair and Svet sitting on the edge of the tub in a tank top and sweatpants.
Her ribs don't hurt so much anymore, at least not compared to the ache in her chest.
Svet quietly whispers, "He will come back, yes?"
Her mother looks over, eyes wide and brows furrowed, "Of course he will."
The teen looks away.
"Hey..." Natasha crouches down in front of her, resting a hand on her nervously bouncing knee, "I know you two are having a bit of a thing right now, but I'm telling you, there is nothing — and I mean nothing — that man wouldn't do for you."
"Or me, for him." Svet peeks up, sincerity written into every inch of her face, "Or for you."
Her mother smiles, "He knows, and I know too."
As they wait for a lead on the Flag Smashers, they fall into a strange but comfortable routine at the Wilson's massive farmhouse. Svet hangs out with Cass and AJ while Natasha helps Sarah with feeding the hungry kids around the neighborhood. The Black Widow might be dead, but Natasha Romanoff still has some pull.
Apparently, Sam's family boat is in major need of repairs so he calls in favors from all around his town to help get it back on the water. Most days, Svet follows her uncle around the shipyard like a lost puppy dog, but she usually ends up back at the farmhouse by mid—afternoon to stare at the road.
Svet's waiting.
Natasha lets her.
So, when Sam comes back one evening with Bucky in tow, Svet is already waiting on the steps with her chin in her hands. She sits immediately upright at the sight of them striding down the dirt lane side—by—side. Her heart immediately starts pounding and her palms sweat when she stands and jogs down the steps until she's stopped right in front of them.
Bucky and Svet just stare at one another, taking the other in, not saying a single word.
Eventually, Sam smacks Bucky's back and shoots Svet a wink, "I'll give you guys a minute."
They stand there a moment, still silent, still observing and analyzing and doing everything they had been trained to do when facing some kind of new obstacle.
"You're back," it's a question.
"I'm back," it's a promise.
He draws in a long deep breath before he begins again, "I'm sorry I left. I had to settle some things on my own. Cross Zemo's name off. Make things right with the Wakandans. Get Sam some new tech."
"All good things, Papa," she nods a little, never taking her eyes off him.
"Yeah." He gives her a tired smile before he sighs and shakes his head, "I got a lot of things I need to say to you. I've gone over and over them in my head, but I hate this... this wall between us. I want to knock it down, and I think the only way to do it is to make it right. I know you don't want me to apologize, but I need to. For me. I'm sorry I made you do those things. I was the Winter Soldier and I didn't have a choice, but you're my baby and I'm sorry."
A tear slips down the side of her cheek, but she nods once, sharp and simple, "I forgive you."
"And I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Yori and his son. We don't keep secrets, we never have and I never want us to again. I just didn't want to put you through that hell again. I wanted to keep you safe. Svetlana, I..." Bucky pauses, and Svet thinks he's about to launch into another apology, "I'll tell you whatever you want. I'll stay away if you want me to. I don't—I just want you to be happy."
"Why would you staying away make me happy, Papa? It never has so far." Choking on a laugh, Svet's sky eyes cloud with tears, "Don't leave, pozhaluysta, don't leave me ever again..." Please.
"I won't leave you, darlin'. Never." Bucky cups her soft cheeks in his rough hands, "I love you. So, so much."
"I love you, too. For always."
She throws her arms around his neck and he holds her as close as he can, face buried in her soft red hair. He murmurs softly in her ear, rocking her gently, rubbing her back to calm the tears that flow out of her now. He loves her. He loves her and the miracle is that she loves him, too. He loves her and she loves him, and no one can ever take them away from them.
God help the poor souls that ever may try.
━━━━━━
THEY'RE TOGETHER AGAIN.
Sam convinces Bucky to stay the night, telling him this town has the most welcoming people in the world and they don't care if you wear small tee—shirts or if you sleep with a gun under your pillow or if you're just too cute to handle. They eat dinner together, and conversation is easy (they all decide to ignore the fact that Cass and AJ are totally ogling Bucky's metal arm).
The only problem that remains is the sleep situation.
"We loaned our sleeping bags to some friends down the road so all I have is the couch..." Sarah explains with a distinct note of apology.
Svetlana hurriedly assures, "This is fine—!"
"—They'll make it work," Sam dismissively agrees, not—so—subtly winking his niece's way.
Natasha rolls her eyes while Bucky shoots him a deadly glance.
As night falls, everyone goes off onto sleep until it's just them three standing around the pulled out sofa, each of them looking cautious and thoughtful.
"You guys take the couch." Bucky finally offers, "I don't need much sleep."
Natasha shoots him a crooked smile, "It's a pull out couch, James, you don't have to play the martyr. We'll find a way for all of us to fit."
As they all unfold the sofa bed and get ready for bed, Bucky drops his bag to mark the side nearest the door as his. He doesn't care how old—fashioned that makes him; he isn't going to let his girls sleep closest to the entrance and away from the air conditioner when he'd be awake all night anyway. God knows that they can hold their own; that doesn't mean he wants them to have to, though.
Svet is, as always, endlessly sleepy, and as soon as her red head hits the pillow, she can feel the sweet need for sleep calling to her. Bucky stretches out until his leg brushes against something that could either be a lump in the blanket or one of Natasha's feet. The one thing he didn't account for was accidentally touching her in the bed,
"Goodnight," Bucky quickly says — just a bit too loudly, if only to stop himself from thinking how easy it would be to reach out and feel the warmth of her only inches away.
There's a sound suspiciously like a huff of laughter before Natasha replies, "Goodnight, James."
"Shh!" Svet hushes them both, rolling her eyes at their antics (she's not impressed with their flirting when she's sleepy), "I love you both, but zatknis', pozhaluysta!" Will you kindly shut up!
Over her head, Natasha and Bucky share a look, and then they're both laughing. Actual laughing, deep belly, teary—eyed laughing. It makes no sense. It's not even funny. They're both just so exhausted and so lost and so relieved that it all pours out in the form of hysterical laughter.
Svetlana groans miserably, grabbing a pillow and dropping it over her face to drown them out.
Somehow, by some miracle — once her parents finally quiet down, everyone manages to fall asleep that night.
Somewhere around 2:00 am, Svetlana fists the side of Natasha's oversized shirt in her hand and burrows against the side of Bucky's wide chest, keeping them both as close as she can. If she keeps them close, she can keep them safe. If she keeps them close, they'll never leave again. Her parents don't mind. Natasha falls asleep with a smile on her face and Bucky's chin rests on top of Svet's head, the sleeping position so natural, so familiar, that it's comforting.
They're all here.
They're all safe.
There are no nightmares to be had this time.
Instead, it's to the sound of children playing that Bucky wakes. He blinks a few times in the early morning light and then turns his head to see Sam's nephews mimic whooshing sounds, playfully swiping the shield back and forth. There's a comfortability in the way that these young boys wield this red, white, and blue shield, a sense of belonging in it too. A sense of rightness.
"Hey," Bucky quietly calls, waving a few fingers their way.
AJ and Cass startle, gasping and rushing around, "Put it back, hurry, hurry!"
They scuttle around, draping the shield back in its leather case before rushing out of the room. Bucky smiles and puffs a bit of a laugh, staring at the space they left until his gaze drifts to the shield on the floor. He hums to himself in deep thought before rolling over a little.
Natasha must have woken up first because when he turns, Bucky finds those piercing green eyes looking at him, clearer than he has ever seen. Almost instantly, he feels a sleepy smile on his face and she can't help but smile back. He's wearing this wide, easy smile that she has only seen in photographs from before he fell. It's mesmerizing this close. She wonders how Svet could ever get used to it. She cautiously reaches out to trace a finger along the line of his jaw and across the curve of his lips.
He stills under her touch, but he doesn't pull away.
"She slept good," Natasha whispers, "You both did."
Bucky leans into her touch, gently, as if he's afraid he'll break her if he trusts too much. In a voice that nearly breaks, he whispers back, "We did."
They both look down at their daughter, watching the way her chest rises and falls, the smoothness of her brow, the small quirk to the side of her lips where she's smiling a little. She still sleeps between them, her breaths even and soft as they float out of her partly open peach lips.
They think about how this could have been, if they had escaped together, if everything hadn't gone so wrong. Two bodies on a bed and a little baby between them, watching a baby girl with red hair and blue eyes sleep between them. Safe. Happy.
It's okay now, though.
This is where they are, and it's good enough.
They leave her to sleep, knowing that waking her now will only make her grumpier. Dealing with a sleepy Svetlana is a very dangerous task. Besides Cass and AJ, the rest of the household is still asleep so they wander outside onto the porch steps where Bucky sits on the steps and Natasha leans against the side column.
They need to talk, too.
They've been avoiding it for so long.
It seems pointless to push it off any longer.
Natasha takes the lead, glancing down her shoulder at him, "Has anyone ever told you that you did a good job with her?"
Bucky sends her such a dubious look, she actually chuckles and settles onto the step at his side.
"You were all she had and you did so well." Her voice is like a balm to all the open wounds still inside him, "It's a miracle she's not robbing banks or running a gang. There is no reason in the world why she should be sweet. But she is, and that's down to you. You're a good man."
"Not really, no." He tells her, "But you're the only one who understands that."
She looks at him, the quirk of his mouth, the straight line of his nose, his beautiful blue eyes.
They were both weapons to be used, they weren't supposed to know love. And yet...
He has loved her. He has loved her with his body and his soul and all the words he whispered in her ear when they were alone together. He loved her until she — along with everything else that makes him who he is — was taken from him and erased.
Bucky tentatively smooths back the wisps of red hair that have slipped free from her braid, and Natasha leans into the touch, emboldened now. His touch doesn't provoke her usual urge to strike out hard and fast the way most people's touch do. Trust, Natasha thinks, it's about trust — not something she's got a lot of experience with.
She's willing to start now.
Their noses brush and his fingers ghost over her skin before he cups her jaw, sending shivers down his spine.
And then, finally, finally, their lips meet.
The kiss is surprisingly soft, the brush of his lips shockingly gentle. Natasha wraps her arms around the back of his neck and draws him in closer to deepen the kiss.
Natasha can't help but notice how warm he is, so much warmer than she remembers him being, but his arms are as strong and his mouth is as eager.
It's easy for Bucky, then, to let her embrace him, to let her cover him with kisses, and to answer each with an equal hunger. To let her wrap her arms around him with a promise of never letting go again.
For the first time in what feels like forever, they're home.
They're both out of breath when they finally, regretfully break the kiss, foreheads tilting to lean against one another. He lets out a deep sigh that makes her snicker.
"Hey," he says when she opens her eyes.
"Hey yourself," her voice is as rough as his.
"Shoulda done that a lot soon," he allows himself to pull back a little, as if he can't stop looking at her.
"Good things come to those who wait," Natasha attempts at a deadpan that's completely ruined when her lips keep tugging into a smirk.
He catches her chin between two fingers and lifts it, leans down to kiss her again and again, soft and gentle, "Thank you."
Later, when they turn back towards the house, Natasha takes Bucky's hand and laces their fingers together — black metal and pale flesh, fitting together like a puzzle.
Svet watches quietly from the front window, leaning against the wall with her arms over her chest and letting out a sigh of contentment.
Svetlana can finally find peace now.
━━━━━━
ROUTINE IS EASIER NOW.
As Bucky helps Sam on the boat and Natasha continues working her connections, Svetlana finds herself outdoors with AJ and Cass — her new cousins.
The boys seem to have a never ending supply of energy, and they're always showing her new games to play.They go swimming and teach her Marco Polo, although they find this outrageously unfair as she sort of/kind of has enhanced senses and they always lose. Svet teaches them how to dance and teaches them how to kickbox on the punching bag in the shed. They try to bribe her for Russian swear words with comic books. They also teach her all about American football, and it takes both boys to take her down when she runs for the makeshift end zone with the ball under arm. They end up on their backs, sweaty and grass—stained and laughing until they cry.
It's only when Sam starts training with the shield that their time in Louisiana comes to an end.
Under the shade of the blooming weeping willow trees, Bucky and Sam stand together, using these last few minutes before its time to practice.
"Feels weird... Picking it up again." Sam murmurs, peering down at the shield, feeling its weight. Then he throws it again and it bounces off the cushioned trees until Bucky can catch it again, "The legacy of that shield is complicated, to say the least."
Bucky stares at him for a long moment, brows furrowed and voice so terribly sincere, "When Steve told me what he was planning, I don't think we understood what it felt like for a Black man to be handed the shield. How could we?"
Sam tilts his head back, those big soulful eyes swirling with emotion.
"I owe you an apology." He murmurs, offering the shield back, "I'm sorry."
"Thank you." Sam smiles a little, now holding the red, white, and blue thing a little closer.
"Whatever happened with Walker, it wasn't your fault." Bucky goes on, realizing where he'd been wrong, "I get it. It's just... that shield's the closest thing we've got left to a family, so when you retired it, it made me feel like I had nothing left to give my kid. Made me question everything. You, Steve, Natasha, me." He reached into his back pocket and shook the small notebook, fiddling with it a little, looking away, "You know, I've got his, uh... I've got his book. And, uh... I just figured if it worked for him, then it'd work for me."
"I understand, man. But Steve is gone, and this might be a surprise, but it doesn't matter what Steve thought." As Bucky slowly exhales a sigh, Sam throws the shield and catches it once again, "You gotta stop looking to other people to tell you who you are."
It's Bucky who catches it on the next throw, staring down at the star on his arm, the symbol of his best friend who became a hero while he became a villain.
"Let me ask you." Brows still furrowed, Sam quietly asks, "You still having those nightmares?"
Bucky looks up, a tired bitter smirk on his face, "All the time."
Sam waits, quiet and patient, everything Bucky needs in a friend now.
Eventually, when he's ready, he explains, "It means I remember. It means a part of me is still there. Which means a part of the Winter Soldier's still in me."
"You up for a little tough love?" When he nods, Sam looks him right in the eye, "You want to climb out of the hell you're in, do the work. Do it."
"I've been making amends—,"
"Nah, you weren't amending, you were avenging. You were stopping all the wrongdoers you enabled as the Winter Soldier, because you thought it would bring you closure." Bucky considers that so Sam slowly steps closer, knowing he's getting to him, "You go to these people and say 'sorry', because you think it'll make you feel better, right? But you gotta make them feel better. You gotta go to them and be of service. I'm sure there's at least one person in that book who needs closure about something, and you're the only person who can give it to 'em."
"Probably a dozen," Bucky points out lowly.
"That's cool." Sam shrugs simply, "Start with one."
After a few quiet moments, Bucky smirks a little at him, "Good talk."
Sam laughs, but he's soon cut off when Natasha hollers, "You ladies ready or what?"
Both men look over to see Natasha watching them from the driver's seat of their rented black sportscar. Svetlana is peering out the back window, beaming hurriedly waving them closer. It's time to go, but it's okay — they'll see each other again soon.
When the two men clasp hands and pull the other in, Sam points out, "You know Karli won't quit."
"Ah." Bucky smacks his lips, smirking, "You call me when you have a lead, and me and my girls will be there."
Sam smirks back, "I don't doubt it."
"Not necessarily as a team," Bucky admits, pulling his backpack back onto his shoulder.
"Nope." Sam agrees simply.
"We're not that good."
"Definitely not."
"We're professionals."
"Definitely."
Bucky tries to think of the right word, "And, uh, we're partners,"
"Co—workers," Sam snaps his fingers and points at him.
"But we're also a couple of guys with a mutual friend," Bucky shrugs.
Sam displays his hands, "Friend's now gone."
"So we're a couple of guys."
"I can live with that."
Bucky smirks as he pauses by the side of the car, "Perfect."
Sam looks between the family trio, smiling at them each, "Thanks for the help, guys. Meant a lot."
"We will bill you," Svetlana winks, getting more and more comfortable with sass nowadays.
Sam is glad about that, even if it's often directed at him. Unfortunately.
Her uncle snorts and rolls his eyes, "Nice, Slugger. Real nice."
"Spasibo," the teenager beams. Thank you.
Natasha proudly high—fives the girl as Bucky smacks his shoulder before slipping easily into the passenger seat. As the car screeches off down the dirt road, Sam turns back towards the house with the shield where it belongs — right on his arm.
It's true, Svet knows, they'll part ways but only for now.
They'll be back together again, Svetlana is sure of it.
Because the new Captain America will need them to.
━━━━━━ annie speaks ━━━━━━
HELLO, HELLO!! okay so this may be one of my favorite episodes and one of my favorite chapters so far? i don't know what happened to me but all of the sudden i'm like, WRITE THAT DOMESTIC BLISS!! which is very unlike me, as my dear readers well know.
ANYWAY, we need to chat. big things happened in this chapter. BIG THINGS. one, bucky and svet are back to being the duo we know and love. two, sam had taken up the mantle. three, THE KISS. THE FRICKEN KISS. i have worked SO hard on that one bit and i just... i hope it was perfect. not rushed, not anti—climatic, not uncomfortable. they're growing together. it will take time.... but the parent trap is working!!!
OKAY, OKAY, let me hear your thoughts!!
side note: the title is from a Kesha song loll
(pssst: also, we have only two (2) chapters left in part one!!!)
now, funny thingamabobs time:
this was literally my thought process this whole episode tho
it's true, don't deny it