Imagine If You Assembled The Avengers: Volume 2

Fire and Ice (Barnes x reader)

This wasn't the first time that you had stood face-to-face with Captain Steve Rogers, though it was much more civil than you had remembered in the past. Hydra had given him a very memorable introduction to you when your power of pyrokinesis had cost him his uniform and a fair amount of modesty, and in return, he had given you a scar that ran across the full width of your chest; a lifelong reminder of just how hard he could throw.

This time it was different as you faced him; he wasn't armed and you weren't there to attack. It was the first time that the two of you were on the same side, and to say that it was disconcerting to him was an understatement. You were there to ask for his help, and that of his best friend, who he had just gotten back; he was fiercely protective of Bucky, and to have you of all people in front of him now with the determination to get through him left him standing just a little bit taller.

"I need to see him."

"No."

"Capt-...Steve," you sighed, overly cautious in keeping your hands lowered to your sides, "I wouldn't come here if it wasn't important, believe me. I wouldn't risk walking up to the Avengers' front door if it wasn't life or death." The urge to lash out and fight him was still strong inside of you, your nerves buzzing with the anticipation of a fight, and what a fight it would be; some of your best battles were hand-to-hand with the Captain.

"He's not the Soldier anymore, if that's who you're looking for, (Y/N). He's gone."

"I don't know who I expect to find, honestly. I only know that I need his help. He may be the only one who can help me."

"Why?" he asked plainly, taking another step forward with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He towered over you, looking down with intense eyes and almost a sneer as he spoke, as if he wanted you to challenge him. "Make me believe it."

Oh, if it had been under any other circumstances, how you would have loved to take him up on it. You hadn't been in a challenging fight in quite some time, and he would definitely meet the need to break a few bones. But now wasn't the time, and you had to keep your focus if you were going to get anywhere near Bucky.

"Our son is in danger."

"What...?" he gasped, taking a step back in utter shock and dropping his stiff posture. "(Y/N)...your son?"

"What did you just say?"

You sucked in a harsh breath at the sight of him when he stepped out from the shadows, having had been there the entire time as Steve held you at bay. His features were the same for the most part; the stubble across his chin and cheeks, the untamed hair that was just a bit shorter than you remembered, and of course, the arm. But in all of that, it was his eyes that shocked you into immobility; they were brighter and alive now, even in this moment when you had shaken him to the core. When they looked back at you, you dared to believe that there was a warmth of recognition and memory behind their color.

"Our son is being hunted by Hydra, and I need help to protect him."

"Son?" he asked quietly, casting his gaze away as the memories tried to replay in his mind.

"Yes, and I'm sorry that I didn't tell you before, but I can't do this alone."

"Well, you're gonna have to," he scoffed, turning away with a quick change of demeanor and deflection, "I didn't even know he existed, so no loss to me."

"Buck, come on, man," Steve interjected, taking his arm in hand to stop him, "you're not serious?"

"This is my serious face...is it not coming across the right way?"

"I'm sorry," you tried again, "but two assassins don't really make the best parents. We had no business having a kid in that life. Hell, we shouldn't have even been together at all. But when I found out that I was having him, I ran so that he could have a better life, and I gave him up. Everything was good...until Hydra found him," you groaned, reaching up to rub the fatigue and sting from your eyes. "The family he belonged to got scared and ran, and I tried to convince them to let me hide them, but they won't. And now...what if they find him?"

"I never knew he existed until two minutes ago," Bucky argued, "and you're expecting me to magically have some fatherly emotions and want to run out and rescue him because he has my DNA? I don't know this kid, (Y/N)."

"I don't know him either, but does that really matter?"

"Of course it matters," he spat angrily, stepping forward and grabbing both of your arms with a harsh shake. You had forgotten just how strong that metal hand was, and it took every ounce of concentration to not let the tears build in your eyes at the pain it was inflicting on your skin now. "You should have told me, dammit! I would've gone with you. I would've been able to know my own kid."

"Don't lie to yourself, Barnes," you hissed back, pulling away, "you wouldn't have gone anywhere. Your collar was so tight around your neck that you were never getting loose. Your mind was so far gone, it's a miracle that you found anything left in there once the blender stopped churning."

"Fuck off."

"You first."

"Okay, you two are getting way off track," Steve finally broke in, pushing his way between you, "so bring it in and focus. (Y/N), we'll help, but you'll need to come in and give us as much information as you can so we have something to go on. You guys are just gonna have to save the fighting for later."

"Nope, I'm out. No deal." Bucky huffed, waving you off dismissively to turn away again. "Have fun, Steve, she's all yours. But watch your back with that one, there's a chance she's gonna break it."

~~~

Bucky held true to his word, but you expected nothing less; he was no help whatsoever, and he kept his distance from you so effectively that he may as well have just fallen from the earth. Every now and again you thought that maybe you caught a glimpse of him just as he left a room or sometimes the shine of his arm in the sunlight through the large compound windows, but each time you tried to look up in time, he wasn't there.

You didn't remember Steve being a man of so few words, but then again, you really knew him best as a fighter with the rare one-liner that only proved how much of a smartass he was beneath that perfect, patriotic, and proper exterior that he carried so well. You had been working with him directly for over a week now and hadn't had even one lead, and it was beginning to frustrate you both, much to your surprise. He was growing invested in the search, but you weren't sure why. It had to be because he was looking for his best friend's son, likely wanting to give them a relationship of some kind, but you also began to believe that he wanted your son in his life a little bit for himself too.

"Let's call it a day," he sighed, leaning back into his desk chair into a long stretch, "we can pick this up again tomorrow."

"I'm starting to lose hope."

"Don't do that. We've barely gotten started. FRIDAY's going to keep looking around the clock so we can rest. When we find him, it's probably best if you're awake for it." He stood and moved to stand behind you, putting his hands on your shoulders almost cautiously at first, but when you nodded just slightly in agreement, his grip strengthened as he massaged the tension from your muscles. "We'll find him, (Y/N), and when we do, Bucky will come around."

"This isn't about him."

"I know...I'm just saying..."

A small moan escaped your lips without your consent, the relief his hands were giving you an unexpected pleasure in a week that had given you nothing but stress and pain. "You could do this all day."

"Hmm," he scoffed, "stealing my lines now?"

"Not the first thing that I've stolen from you, Rogers."

"That's right! What did you ever do with my boots anyway?"

"I had them bronzed. I'll never find a better trophy than Captain America's size 15's."

"I'd like to see that," he smiled widely, genuinely enjoying the company despite your natural inclination to hate each other. "Still don't know how you got them off of me. I was impressed and too shocked to try to get them back."

"Well, my methods...are...unconventional..." you paused, your eyes locking on a sight at the far end of the room that froze you in place, a cold wave of unexpected guilt hitting you like a slap across the face. It was Bucky, in plain view, his eyes the darkest you had seen them in all of the years you had known him, his hands in tight fists and his jaw twitching under the strain he was clenching it with. He was rage embodied, and you weren't sure if he would strike or not.

"Hey, Buck," Steve began slowly, pulling his hands away from your shoulders and into his pockets sheepishly, "something wrong?"

You sat still, not able to move if you wanted to; when you had worked with the Soldier, this was the look he gave the enemy right before he destroyed them. It was both animalistic and methodical, a deadly combination of skills that, if you worked together, you and Steve might be able to hold off long enough to calm him down.

"You tell me," he answered flatly. "You two friends now? She got you wrapped around her finger that fast? You sure seem awfully cozy for two people who hate each other. But maybe that's a turn on for you? I know you're hard up, Steve, but have some standards."

"Knock it off," you scolded, standing despite Steve's hand on your arm to keep you in place, "you haven't even been in the same room with me in the last week, and now you come in here like you have any say in anything that I do? Who in the hell do you think you are?"

"Clearly, I'm no one."

"Don't be a whiney little bitch, Barnes. It doesn't look good on you," you hissed, stepping up toe-to-toe with him. "I'd be happy to slap it off your face if you need help."

"Guys..." Steve tried, but got no response.

"I'd like to see you try," Bucky retorted, pushing his body even closer, though there really wasn't much space between you to be filled. The two of you stood this way for a moment or two, or maybe hours, you weren't sure; time had stopped as your eyes locked, and you uncharacteristically had nothing to say. Something that his body found in touching yours began to break down his facade. "You left me," he finally whispered sharply between clenched teeth, "when everything was crashing around me and when I actually needed you, you left."

"I told you why," you whispered, your stance relaxing just slightly under the shift in tone. "I didn't know what else to do to protect him."

"You could have told me. I would have protected both of you."

"When your mind was falling apart?" you scoffed. "The last thing you needed was to deal with that, Bucky. Look at where you are now. Look at who you've become. Do you really think any of this would've happened if I had stayed?"

"I loved you."

"That wasn't enough. Love couldn't have protected us, Buck. You needed to find your mind, and I had to find a home. I loved..." you stopped, your eyes searching his to let you know if you could take this leap; if you could be honest in this moment without it being a weakness. "I love you, and I thought I was doing what was right for all of us. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear."

Bucky stood silently, his eyes slowly taking in every curve and line of your face, the deep color of your eyes, the softness of your lips, and he wanted so much to believe you. You had some kind of power over him still, just as you always had, and despite the desire to push you away, you only drew him in more. "Okay," he mumbled, his expression unchanged.

"Captain Rogers," FRIDAY interrupted, "if I could show you something, I think I might have found him."

Steve hurried to one of the large monitors over his desk, a few swipes of his hand across the controls to bring it to life with a map and picture of a young boy of about six years radiating a warm glow through the room. "Guys..."

The world had stopped again, the two of you still holding steady, though now his hand had moved so slightly as to brush his fingers against yours. His own fingers slid over the curve of your wrist and up your arm slowly, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind and a shiver down your spine at his touch. When you didn't resist, he followed up to your shoulder and to your neck until he stopped to hold your cheek with a soft ghosting of his thumb over your lips. He smiled softly when your breath caught in your throat at the sensation, leaning in to satisfy the hunger to know if your lips tasted as they did so many years ago.

"Guys!"

"Goddammit," Bucky groaned, pulling back just before he could connect. "This had better be important, Captain Cockblock."

"Oh, I don't know, seems pretty important to me," Steve snapped, turning the monitor towards you both with a sharp flip of his hand. The sight took you both aback, gasping together at the uncanny resemblance that your son had to Bucky; it was like looking at picture of his younger self, and there was no doubt now that you had to do anything you could to keep him safe. "Come on," Steve waved, pushing between you and to the door, "let's go find this one before you accidentally make another."

Part 2

You weren't sure if you should feel nervous or not, sitting basically captive in the quinjet with Steve and Bucky as the Captain flew it towards the destination that FRIDAY had found for you; the silence was heavy and no one wanted to be the first to say anything, for fear of inciting another argument between any of you. When Bucky finally took the initiative to stand from the co-pilot seat, it caught your attention but you didn't look up at him, rather waiting for him to make the first move towards engaging.

"I'm still mad at you," he said quietly, dropping into the jump seat to your right.

"Okay?"

"Just letting you know."

"Sure," you nodded in agreement, still avoiding his eyes, but when you glanced in his direction, he wasn't looking to you either; he also wasn't offering anything further to say. "Alright, you're gonna have to throw me a bone here, Bucky. Are you looking for me to beg for forgiveness? Plead my case? Bow to you and say that you were right?"

"I'm not looking for any of that," he snapped, finally turning in your direction. "I just don't know what else to say to you."

"So go back and sit by Steve? You're the one who came over here."

"You're infuriating."

"And my argument still stands...you came over here of free will. What the hell did you expect?"

All Bucky could get himself to do was to groan loudly and lower his head into his hands to give himself a minute to think. He didn't stand up to leave, rather taking the initiative to come up with anything else to say so that he could stay at your side just a little longer. He wasn't joking at all when he said you were infuriating; he meant that readily, but it still didn't stop him from wanting to talk to you. "Fine," he finally began again, "so what do we do when we find him? We should probably have a plan ready before we get there. You and I suck at doing anything on the fly."

"We did okay."

"Pfft, right," he scoffed, "and how many times did one of us almost die at any given moment together?"

You paused, your mouth hanging open to retort, but your mind tried to recollect and put the figures together before forming any words. Working with the Winter Soldier was never boring to say the least, and any mission together could have ended in one or both of you dead with even the smallest misstep. "I'd have to guess...about...a hundred or so?"

"Point made," he snorted, "so, plan?"

"I suppose it depends on what we find," you answered plainly, glancing up at Steve when he became active over the controls. "If he's safe with his family, and if they did what I told them to do, then I'm good with that. If not..." you paused, taking a deep breath, "I'll take him."

"You'll take him?" Bucky sat up straighter and turned in each direction, looking around the jet and down at himself with his hands up questioningly, "what about me? Am I invisible now? Not one of my powers, sweetheart."

"Oh, so now you're his dad? Just like that? A few hours ago you wanted nothing to do with him."

"Oh my god, there's no way to say the right thing! Steve, just open the door and let me jump to my death. It would be easier than talking to this woman."

"You came over here!"

"And what a goddamn mistake that was!" Bucky yelled back, standing up to return to his seat next to Steve. He slammed his body back into the chair with a loud grunt, lifting his feet up to rest on the cockpit control panel and squeezing his eyes shut in complete frustration. "Please tell me we're almost there," he whispered to his friend, "because I'm this close to killing her."

"Bring it on, Weiner Soldier."

"Alright, that's enough!" Steve snapped, slamming his hand down on the arm rest of his chair. "You two need to get this locked down before we land. I'm not putting up with this for one more minute, and if you expect me to help you find your son, you're both going to do as I say, are we clear?"

"Mmm hmm," Bucky mumbled, eyes still closed.

"Fine," you answered curtly, avoiding his stare.

"Wonderful," Steve muttered under his breath, turning back to prepare to bring the jet in for landing, "because we're here. This should be fun."

~~~

Your hand hovered still just before connecting with the wooden door at the front of the small house that was thought to hold your son and the family who adopted him from you several years before. The location was well chosen, sitting just outside of a rural city in a hard-to-find area lined with dense woods and very few roads; however, your pessimistic side also saw it as a good target, one that wouldn't be missed if someone wiped it from the face of the earth looking for the boy.

"Okay," you exhaled heavily, bringing yourself to finally knock. When the door opened, the woman on the other side of it gasped with wide eyes of shock, slamming it shut again in blind fear at the sight of you with Bucky and Steve right behind. With your quick reflexes, you were able to thrust your foot out to stop it, forcing it back open to catch her before she could run. "Stop right there," you warned quietly, "don't make me pull my weapon here."

"(Y/N)," Steve whispered from behind you, "stay calm."

"Shut up, Steve," Bucky answered for you, now looking just as eager as you were to keep the woman still. "Where's our son?" he asked her, stepping up next to you.

"We tried..." she began shakily, "...we ran, like you said...but we couldn't hide..."

"Where is he?" Bucky asked again, his voice changing to a cold and emotionless tone that you immediately recognized from your past, and it scared you.

"Answer him," you urged, "because you're not going to like him when he's angry."

"He's not here...I swear. Please, just leave us alone."

"If he's not here, then where is he?" you asked this time, pressing forward to close the gap between the two of you. "I told you to let me protect you all, but you wouldn't let me. Now you need to tell me where my son is so that I can do the job that you've failed to do."

"I...I don't know," the woman stammered, "...they took him."

The sound of the plates in Bucky's arm tensing filled the room, followed by a deafening crash as he punched the wall next to you, sending his hand fully through it and to the outside. "Dammit, dammit, son of a bitch!" he growled, pulling his arm back and rushing through the door as he tried to catch his breath. Steve followed quickly behind his friend, leaving you there with your mouth agape at the shock and clear ignorance of the woman in front of you.

"You have no idea what you've done," you whispered coldly in a fading voice, "you have no idea...". You could feel the heat building in your hands as your anger grew inside, and you couldn't bring yourself to hold it back. "Run," you commanded, "run as fast as you can, because I'm not about to stop."

She didn't disobey for even a second, grabbing her purse from the kitchen table before bolting through the door and to her car to make her escape. You took a walk from room to room in the house, looking for anything that might have belonged to your son or even just a picture of him to keep with you. Each room came up empty, as if she had already wiped away any evidence that he had ever existed in their life, and an overwhelming sadness at his insignificance in her heart flooded you.

The heat was still building throughout your body, so much so that anything you touched reacted and burst into flames; it had become so strong within you, that each step you took now left behind singed carpet and melted linoleum beneath your feet. Knowing that your search was now pointless, you made your way outside and towards Steve and Bucky, not stopping to look back when you snapped your fingers to completely engulf the home in a blistering heat that had them taking a step back from its power.

"And that, my friend, is why we don't piss her off," Steve turned to Bucky, giving him a firm slap on the arm, "that move cost me a uniform and a week of cooking for Romanoff to get the pictures out of her hands. Of all things for you to forget, that wasn't the best."

"Yeah, I'm getting that," Bucky answered quietly, "but it's all coming back to me."

~~~

"You didn't have to do that," Bucky said, again taking a risk in sitting next to you as Steve prepared to take off. You were unmoving and detached, and to see you like this had him feeling like it was up to him to intervene, though he had no idea how to do that. He tested the waters just a bit, holding his hand out over yours but not touching, weighing his options before committing himself to the connection. He figured that the worst that could happen was for you to reject his offering, and since it wouldn't be the first time, he went for it; he unknowingly held his breath when your skin met and waited for your inevitable dismissal.

But you didn't dismiss him or pull away, and he wasn't sure how to take that either.

"We're back at nothing," you finally whispered, your gaze still straight ahead and blank. "They have him now, and we may never find him. This is all my fault."

"Hey, come on, it's not," he urged, wrapping his fingers around yours with a squeeze, "it's not your fault, (Y/N). You thought you were doing the right thing by letting that family have him."

"I was wrong."

"You couldn't have known that this was going to happen."

"Why are you defending me all of the sudden?" you snapped, yanking your hand away. "I'm giving you a free and clear opening to agree with me and to let me hear 'I told you so' as much as you want! So let's have it! I didn't tell you that you had a son, then I gave him away, and now I've lost him again! Tear me apart already!"

"No, I won't."

You stood quickly and turned back to face him, but when you saw him now, he seemed smaller, and his eyes strangely compassionate; you had never seen this from him before, certainly never when you were with him as the Soldier. It was throwing you off and you began to lose your drive to stay so incensed. "Lost your nerve?" you sniffled, failing to fight back the rush of angry tears that welled in your eyes. When you ran your sleeve over your eyes absentmindedly, he stood in response and grabbed your arms tightly so that you wouldn't try to fight this time.

"Why would I tear you apart when you're already doing it to yourself?"

"I deserve it."

"Okay, I thought that, yeah," he relented, his voice warm and soft as he spoke, "but I don't anymore. (Y/N), I tried putting myself in your place, and I can't think of how I would have done any of it differently. I don't blame you for anything. You did what you thought was right for him...and for me. I'm now seeing that never once did you consider what was right for you. Did you?"

"It wasn't about me."

Bucky released his grip and took a small step back, watching you struggle to contain the waves of emotions that kept hitting; he had never seen you like this, or at least that he could remember, and for the first time, he understood. "You're still a mother, (Y/N)."

"Ha," you scoffed with a shake of your head, looking at your feet to avoid his eyes, "I'm no more of a mother now than you are a father."

Steve took a deep breath as he watched the two of you together, all but forgetting his work and completely entranced in what was happening with you and his best friend. His history with you as an adversary was now forgotten, and all he wanted was for you to find resolution, and to find your son safe and unharmed. He could see the same pain that Bucky had found in you, and he came to a new understanding; he wouldn't stop until that pain was gone.

"Well, (Y/N)," Bucky answered with a weak smile, "I think it's time that we get off our asses and be the parents that this kid needs. Let's go save our son. Together."

Part 3

"(Y/N)."

"Hmm?"

"(Y/N), wake up. I think we need to talk about this," Steve answered your sleepily hazed voice plainly enough to easily come off as rude, and it sounded like he didn't care. When you slowly opened your eyes with the full expectation of seeing him standing over you with the frustrated look that you were just so fond of, it wasn't what you got; instead, he looked almost livid.

"What could I have possibly done now? I was asleep."

He simply nodded curtly to direct you to roll to your side to get your answer. You gasped so loudly that you woke the sleeping soldier who had draped his arm heavily over you. With a quick lift of the sheet you saw that he was naked and you were in nothing more than a t-shirt that wasn't even yours.

"Hey, darlin'," Bucky murmured quietly to you, his body extending into a long stretch that almost showed his friend more than he would ever want to see of him. "Steve, you know there's such a thing as knocking?"

"That's my t-shirt," Steve replied with another nod at you. "Don't remember saying you could take it."

"I gave it to her, calm down," Bucky answered for you, "I would've given her one of mine but the whole one-arm thing doesn't work on anyone else."

"I'm sorry, Steve, here," you began, reaching down to take the bottom of the shirt and pull it up over your head, but he stopped you abruptly with his hands over his tightly shut eyes in a sudden panic and a flush of red creeping into his cheeks.

"No! Keep it! I'll just get a new one!"

"I'm not gross?"

"No, but I don't want to remember this moment every time I wear it!"

"Fine, I'll keep it," you relented with a shrug, "thanks, Cap. But...um, maybe you could give us a minute alone before the lecture starts about what may or may not have happened here?"

"Ten minutes," he snapped, peeking through his fingers to be sure you were both covered before fully opening his eyes, "then we need to go. We've got a new lead and I don't want it to go cold before we even have a chance to take off." He huffed loudly at the sight of you and Bucky one more time before leaving, just to be sure that he had left a strong impression of his disappointment at the turn of events. "(Y/N), I need to talk to you alone before we go."

"Got it," you replied with a small salute, holding it until he had shut the door behind him. You turned and gave Bucky a loud, open-handed slap to his arm, leaving a sharp red outline behind, "what the hell, Buck? I'm not doing this with you again!"

"Now you have a problem with it? Once the deed is done?" he smirked, rubbing the sore spot on his arm. "But I am a little worried that you don't remember it. Did I get rusty?"

"Is that supposed to be a play on words?"

"Happy accident."

"Great. Our last happy accident is why we're here now, so let's try to rein those in, alright?"

"Hey, you came to me," he argued, pushing himself up to swing his legs off the bed and quickly grabbing the sheet when it almost fell to the floor to expose him, "you might notice that this is my room. I didn't knock on your door at 3am, sweetheart, that was you."

"And you just couldn't say no, right?"

Bucky's barely jovial mood was gone within the few seconds it took you to ask the question; he stood with a low growl from his throat, throwing the sheet on the bed and not caring in the least that he was now completely exposed. You were in his room, in his space, and if it made you feel uncomfortable, he didn't give a care at all. "Give me a goddamn break, (Y/N)! Last night when you showed up, I actually was dumb enough to think that we could get past all of this bullshit between us. That maybe we would be able to start something new and that when we find our son, we could work it out." He paused and crossed the room to his dresser, angrily grabbing his clothes and leaving more on the floor than what he took, pulling each item on with a huff to accentuate his words. "I'm so fucking stupid, right? To think that I could have something real? To think that I would deserve that?"

"Bucky, come on, that's not what's happening here-"

"I get it," he continued, as if you hadn't said a single word, "it's okay. You and I have always been a time bomb, (Y/N). We really are fire and ice, just like they used to call us back in the day. This is what I deserve though, I suppose, searching for something that I'll never have in someone who could never give it to me anyway. Shoulda known better. I've looked here before and got burned then too."

"I didn't mean-"

"I think you should go," he interrupted, never turning to look your way, "I'll just meet you in the hangar so we can get this over with. Go see what Steve wants and leave me alone."

~~~

Steve had the strangest knack for making you feel like a little kid about to be punished for misbehavior each time he asked to talk to you, which wasn't many, but they stuck out in your mind nonetheless. Sure, he was of larger physical stature, and his role in the Avengers as their Captain gave him airs of command over you, but when you challenged him and used his own attitude against him, he seemed immediately shorter somehow and much less intimidating. As you approached him now, making your way through the hangar and to the jet, a strange sensation came over you when he displayed none of the usual Captain America traits that you had grown used to.

"Steve? You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, (Y/N)," he greeted, rising up from the pilot seat quickly to meet you just as your feet crossed the jet doorway, "thanks. I just wanted to tell you that what you're doing with Bucky is a really bad idea."

"Because I didn't know that?"

"You sure are acting like you don't."

"Since when are you his babysitter? The last time I checked, he had his mind back, and should be able to make his own decisions. If they're bad ones, then it's on him, Steve, not you."

The Captain's eyes grew a bit darker and his jaw set, putting on his best commanding presence; it was the one you had expected to see, and it gave you a conflicting sense of comfort to see it returning. "You know that I can't stand by and let him get hurt."

"Listen, you and I don't know each other that well-"

"I think I know you plenty."

"See? That's your problem," you hissed, poking him firmly in the chest in a test of his determination, "you think you know. Well then, let me tell you something, Rogers, you don't know shit about me."

He grabbed your hand and twisted your wrist back with a snap that elicited a small wince of pain from you, but he didn't let go. "I know that you're only concerned with yourself, (Y/N). In the times that you and I have met, never once did I see anything else."

"Can't imagine why, genius. I was trying to kill you." You twisted your arm against his hold and managed to free your wrist, rubbing away the pain and grimacing at the swelling that had already begun to form around it. "People can change, you know. But clearly, you're still an asshole."

Steve's eyes widened just slightly as he watched you, dropping his stance with a loud sigh; he always did that, jumping to the defensive and taking it one step too far when he so much as perceived a threat, be it true or not. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). Let me see-"

"Thanks, but I've got it," you stepped back, "let's not touch me again, alright?"

"I'm sorry," he repeated, "I just reacted. The last time we had contact it didn't end well, so you can't blame me for being on the alert."

You looked back at him and studied his face, seeing that he was trying to be accepting of you being this close to him and was doing his best to tolerate your interaction with his friend; it had to be a terrible struggle for him, given the years of animosity that had existed between you. Beyond being a formidable enemy and strong fighter that could hold your own against him, he did have respect for your determination, if nothing else. "Steve," you sighed, "look, I know that you and I have no love lost here. You're trying to protect Bucky, and I get that, I really do. But the only reason why I'm here is because I need his help to find our son. Once that's done and I know that he's safe, I'll be out of your hair. We only need to get along for a little while longer."

"I think I can do that."

"Me too. Although," you smiled slightly, "I wouldn't mind one last round against you before I leave, for old time's sake."

"Careful, (Y/N), I've stepped up my game since last time."

"Have you suddenly become fireproof?"

"Uh...no?"

"Then the advantage is still mine."

"So, you two are friends now?" Bucky interjected, stepping up behind Steve and pushing his way past him into the jet. "Definitely the first sign of the apocalypse."

"Just a truce," Steve answered, giving you a small nod and leaving to join his friend, "let's not get ahead of ourselves. (Y/N)," he waved to you, standing to allow you past him and to your seat. He stood steady and watched as you secured yourself in, glancing to Bucky to see that he was watching you closely as well. "Alright," he finally said, passing by to the pilot seat and directly through Bucky's eye line, "let's try this again."

~~~

Even though this flight had so far been considerably longer than the first that you had spent together, the three of you were each holding out a greater sense of hope, as Steve was convinced that his lead was legitimate and would be where your son was being held. Maybe he was acting confident for your sake, or for Bucky's, but you didn't care; you would take it, as it was helping you to feel like your search would soon be over. The only thing you were feeling now was fear at who or what you would find, with the possibility of the boy being your enemy now a very real possibility. Until this moment, you hadn't considered the fact that you might have to fight your own offspring, and you had no idea if he had any powers or gifts that you may have passed on to him.

Bucky must have been feeling similarly, because you could sense him watching you, even without looking back. You wanted to talk to him, wanted to connect on what this was doing to the two of you, but maybe Steve was right; getting close to Bucky as the man he is now was just a bad idea. Revisiting a past that was volatile and fed by common hatred under the blanket of Hydra was no way to build anything healthy, even now when you were both free. Even though you had decided to avoid him as much as you could, you made the mistake of letting your guard down and looking his way, only to grimace in regret as he stood to join you.

"Hey, Buck, what's up?"

"Hey, (Y/N)...I, um...could I maybe..." he stammered, motioning to sit by you.

"Sure, have a seat."

"Great, thanks," he sighed, dropping heavily into the seat next to you. He sat looking straight ahead, his hands rubbing nervously over his thighs until you finally couldn't stand it and put a hand over his. His focus shifted and looked down, only to cover yours with his free hand to keep it there. "Listen, I'm sorry about earlier. I was rude, and mean, and I didn't want to come across that way...I guess I was just...frustrated. With everything that's happening, I'm kind of a mess. Sort of proving your point, actually, now that I hear it out loud."

"It's okay. I never should have come to you in the first place. I never should have knocked on your door, and that whole thing-"

"Would have been a shame to not have happened, (Y/N). I don't regret it," he broke in, "and I'd do it again."

"No, you won't," Steve called out from the front of the jet, completely serious.

"Dammit, Steve, mind your own business," Bucky groaned, shooting him a warning glance before looking back to you. "Without letting Captain Morality up there into your head, do you regret it?"

"Of course not. I never have. But that doesn't mean it was the right thing to do, and maybe Steve has a point. With everything that you've got going on right now, getting your life back together, this isn't the best time to give you more to deal with. Once we find him, Bucky, I think it would be best if-"

"If you both stayed with me. Please."

"Buck..."

"I know that you're saying that because Steve thinks it's the right thing to do, and believe me, sweetheart, knowing that he's in your head and you're actually agreeing with him scares me more than any trouble that you and I could stir up on our own." Bucky fully turned his body towards you, and you moved to mimic his position, allowing him to take both of your hands into his; the coolness of his metal hand began to warm as it held yours, as your inner temperature rose in response to the strong emotions building up inside of you again. The heat was almost so much that it was making him uncomfortable to maintain his grip, but he didn't let go. "So, I've still got it, huh?" he smiled coyly. "You're heating up."

"Guys-"

"Can it, Steve! I'm tryin' to make a move here!"

"We're here," Steve replied sharply, "so if you could keep it in your pants just a little while longer, we could maybe get this job done first."

Bucky pulled his hands away quickly, allowing you to unbuckle your safety harness and stand with him, the two of you hurrying to fill your suits with any weapon that could fit. Steve landed the jet in a remote area not too far from your target, and when the doors opened, all you could see in any direction was the dark of night already settling in.

"Okay, I've got us just a few hundred yards out, but I'm sure they're already tracking us," Steve began, meeting you at the end of the ramp. "Don't split up until we get closer and have a better read on this. Call out anything you see that might be where they're keeping him. Don't try to take them on alone," he pointed back and forth to the two of you, "I know how you guys get."

"Pfft, you're one to talk," Bucky scoffed, shaking his head at his friend. Pulling one of his rifles into his hands, he squared his shoulders, settling his mind into what he was about to do and looking to you only to see the same. "You ready?"

"Always," you answered quietly, briefly looking back before taking a few steps into a run, "let's blow this popsicle stand."

"Stop stealing my lines!" Steve groaned, quickly giving chase and for the first time, smiling at the idea of maybe keeping you around just a little bit longer.

Part 4

The three of you approached what appeared to be an old, abandoned munitions bunker positioned in the middle of nowhere, each of you with your weapons drawn and your senses sharp. Bucky tried to fight the urge to keep himself in front of you as a shield to protect you, and each time you caught him in the act, you pushed your way out to the front with a shove of your elbow that left Steve chuckling behind you as he followed.

"Is this how you guys used to work?"

"Meaning?" Bucky whispered back harshly, his eyes keeping forward at the target.

"Letting the dame push you around?"

You stopped cold in your tracks and spun on your heel towards the Captain, a fire building in both your eyes and in your hands; you caught him off guard, stepping up to him to take the front of his uniform in your grip with the heat building in your skin and making the threads of the cloth begin to break down. "Try that again?"

"I mean...um...that's going to catch fire in a sec..."

"So?"

"I'm sorry," he quickly apologized, his eyes widening at the scent of burning cloth filling his nostrils, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by that. I take it back."

You released your grip with a small push back against him, tipping him just a little off balance to make your point even more definitively. He reached up and pulled the collar of his shirt away from his skin and patted at the flames that had erupted, quickly extinguishing what you had left behind. Seeing the scorched hand print that you had left behind as a reminder of his ineptitude, he hoped to himself that one day he might learn to watch his words around you before he ran out of clothes.

"If we're done screwing around," Bucky interrupted, "maybe we could get inside?"

"Right," Steve stepped up, swinging his shield down against the lock, but it didn't break. "Hmm, that's weird," he muttered, trying again and again and again until he finally turned back with a look of utter defeat. "Anyone else want to give it a go?"

"Men," you huffed, stepping forward, "always assuming that you have all the answers." Taking the lock in your hand, you directed your energy into it, superheating the metal until it simply melted away and allowed the door to freely swing open. "Gentlemen," you smiled, making your way inside first with Steve and Bucky quickly on your heels.

"Showoff," Bucky smirked, slapping a hand on your butt as he walked past, as if it were perfectly natural and acceptable to do so. In the past it may not have been an issue, but as your relationship stood now, it left you in shock and staring at him as he continued on without taking notice. He was clearly enjoying working at your side again, just as you were, but something in his mind had transported him to a familiar place and time when a touch like that would never have been questioned.

Steve pushed past you next as you stood steady and lost in your thoughts, the smile on his face catching your eye. "So, I was wrong. That's how you guys used to work. Explains a lot about how we got to this point, actually."

"Shut up, Steve," you groaned, breaking your trance and moving forward to follow him with Bucky taking a lead far ahead, "it's ancient history."

"Oh, yeah, looks like it. So, does that mean that once we find the kid, you're going to hang around?"

"Do you really think that I want to talk about this right now? Even if I did, that I would want to talk about it with you?"

"I think it would help to build trust in our relationship if we could learn how to share what we're feeling-"

"Ow! What the hell?!" you yelled out, your leg giving out from beneath you to topple you to the floor. A biting sting radiated from your thigh, leaving a trail of blood saturating the cloth of your pants around it. Steve turned and dropped on his knees next to you, holding his shield up in front of you towards the assumed direction of the shot.

"You okay?"

"Lovely, thanks," you hissed through clenched teeth, "here, rip off my sleeve," you commanded, holding out your arm. The loud shredding of cloth echoed around you, the only sounds beside it being the heavy steps of Bucky hurrying back to your side. You winced as Steve tied the sleeve of your shirt around the wound to hold pressure, waiting a moment for the bleeding to stop before you stood again.

"Who the hell did that?" Bucky asked urgently, taking his place at your other side. "Where did it come from?"

"I don't know, the last thing I heard was Steve wanting to talk about feelings and then someone tried to put me out of my misery. At least it made him stop."

"Well I'm relieved to hear that you're not getting along as well as I thought," Bucky laughed, wrapping his arm around you to help you balance. He stood steady for a moment as you adjusted to the pain and shifted your gait, giving him a nod when you felt ready to move again on your own. "You sure? I've got you."

"Having to hold me up will only slow us down. We need to find him and get out of here."

"Guys?" Steve said quietly with a nervous tremble in his voice, pointing towards one of the darkened corners of the room. "I think we found him. Unless you have more kids that look exactly like Buck hanging around in old Hydra bases?"

"Not that I know of," you whispered back, pulling a light from your pocket to aim his way, "but I can only vouch for myself."

"Rude," Bucky snapped under his breath, "there's only been you."

"That you remember."

"Not the time, guys," Steve added, his eyes still fixed on the boy. There was no one else with him, and he looked disheveled and terrified, his clothes torn and his face covered in dirt; even under the filth, you could recognize his eyes immediately. Each one of you had to fight the urge to run towards him, but he was acting like a frightened animal, and as if any sudden movement would make him run. The gun that had shot you was still held out in front of him, trembling in his fingers. "Hello? I'm Steve," he began softly, "this is (Y/N), and this is Bucky. What's your name?"

The boy's eyes were wide as he searched each of your faces; you could see the conflict in him and the decision he was trying to make as to whether or not to trust you. He looked like he had been through hell already, and your heart ached for him and what he must have experienced. "My name," he finally answered, his voice dry and gravelly, "is James."

"She kept it," you whispered in a gasp, feeling Bucky's hand move to hold yours. "James, are you hurt? Is there anyone here with you?"

"No, I'm okay, and I think I'm alone," he replied quickly, looking around the room urgently. "There were three of them who brought me here, but they left and haven't come back."

"We should move fast, in case they do," Steve added, turning back to you, "you're in no shape to fight."

"Speak for yourself, Rogers."

Bucky took a small step away from you and towards the boy, keeping his hands up in front of him to be seen clearly, "hey, guy. We're here to help you, okay? We know that you're scared, and that whoever brought you here didn't treat you very well, but we're here to keep you safe."

"You have a metal arm."

"Um...yes...I do," Bucky stammered slightly in surprise, "does it scare you?"

"Can I see it?"

"Can you put your gun on the floor first?" Bucky offered, his hands still up. "It kind of hurt my friend over there, and I'd like to make sure it doesn't hurt anyone else."

James looked down at his hand and back to your group, his head tilting to the side enough to see you clearly past Bucky. His eyes drifted down to the large red saturation on your leg, and saw blood continuing to run from the wound, leaving his eyes widening at the sight and a small gasp escaping his throat. "I'm so sorry, ma'am," he said to you genuinely, "I was just scared and I didn't know who you were." He set the weapon at his feet raised his hands up, mirroring Bucky's stance. "You can have it."

"Thank you," Bucky smiled gently, taking steps to cross the room towards him with a kick of his foot sending the weapon sliding across the floor to Steve. "And as I promised, here," he extended his arm out for the boy to examine it, laughing to himself slightly when he shifted the plates within it and saw the child smile at something that should be terrifying him. "You're not scared of it?"

"It's the coolest thing I've ever seen."

You started to feel a wooziness in your head as you continued to lose blood, reaching out to grip Steve's shoulder when you felt like you were about to tip over. "We need to go," you urged, "before I either cry at these two or pass out." Steve turned and wrapped an arm around your back and another under your legs, sweeping you up and holding you to him before you would have a chance to fall.

"Buck, we need to move."

Bucky looked back and saw the paleness in your skin and your weakened grip on his friend and his heart began to race with worry. He was suddenly filled with a sense of overwhelming protectiveness towards you and the boy, and his need to hurry was clear in his voice. "Okay, James," Bucky asked, drawing the boy's attention back to what he was saying, "we have to go because my friend needs to see a doctor. We came here to get you because we want you to be safe. Will you come with us?"

When Steve turned to carry you from the room, it was the first time that James had been given a clear view of his shield, and his eyes brightened at the sight, "that's Captain America! Yes, I want to go with you! He's awesome!"

"Metal arm wasn't cool enough, huh?" Bucky laughed, reaching out to lift the boy against him. "That's okay, wait until you see what your mo-...my other friend can do. She can make Cap and I look like we're just playing with cool toys."

~~~

A mere two weeks later, James had fallen into a routine at the compound, much faster than you had expected. At Bucky's request, you stayed there with them, but you still hadn't decided for how long; now that your son was settling in, with his anxiety and nightmares slowing, you felt that it was the time to tell him who you and Bucky were. What you did after that all hinged on his reaction and how he took the news. He was having the time of his life with the Avengers, living out his superhero dreams come true, so you anticipated that he would take your news pretty well; you considered starting with telling him that Captain America would be his Uncle Steve, just to seal the deal since he was still a clear favorite.

On the morning of the day you would tell him, he had gotten up early to follow Tony to the lab, an eager learner for anything that Stark wanted to teach him; Tony welcomed the boy readily and found his days fulfilled by sharing so much with such an inquisitive mind. James had shown you several of his inventions, even though much of the work had been done by Tony, and you could see a sense of pride in his instructor that only warmed your heart to them both that much more.

When Bucky entered the kitchen that morning, his hair a mess and his feet shuffling in his half-asleep state, he searched the cupboards until he found a cup, messily pouring his coffee without a care to the puddles left behind on the countertop as Steve sat at the table and watching with a lopsided grin.

"Rough night?" Steve asked quietly. "You look like you didn't sleep at all."

"Nah, just tired," Bucky yawned in reply, setting the cup down to stretch his arms high over his head. "James off with Stark already?"

"Yeah, he ate his cereal so fast that I thought he might choke. He seems to be taking to the team just fine, so are you still gonna tell him today?"

"That's the plan, last time I talked to (Y/N) anyway."

Steve paused and watched his friend for a few minutes as he searched the refrigerator for his own breakfast, only to come up empty and opt for just his coffee to start his day. He looked almost nervous and a little lost, leaving Steve worried that he wasn't ready to do this yet. "So, if it goes well...is (Y/N) going to stay?"

"Yeah," Bucky smiled mischievously, his expression brightening at seeing you in his periphery, coming down the hall towards him, "I think it looks pretty good."

"Great, a kid should have both of his parents-" he stopped, his mouth hanging open when you entered the room wearing a wide grin and a familiar garment. "Um, (Y/N)?"

"Morning, Cap," you greeted cheerfully, casually running your fingers through Bucky's messy hair as you passed by to get your own coffee, "what's up?"

"Oh, nothing, just thought I would ask if you wanted to do a little shopping with me later."

"Shopping?"

"Yeah," he snickered, "because if you plan on staying, I don't think I have enough t-shirts for the both of us." 

Part 5

If it had been any other adversary holding you to the ground with their foot pressed against your back so hard that you were sure that the bruises had already begun, you would have simply set their uniform ablaze in a retaliation that always worked. Unfortunately, you had promised to keep your powers quiet for this fight, relying only on your hand-to-hand combat skills against Steve to keep it fair. Ever since the day you walked up to the compound doors to find Bucky, you had been battling the urge to take the Captain on again, finding him to have been one of your favorite enemies to date; your fights on the battlefield had always been lively and challenging, and you had missed them just a little. But now, with his boot pinching at your skin and tearing the cloth of your shirt, you began to rethink the respect that you had built up for the jerk.

"Cap, I think you've got her," Bucky called out from benches along the gym wall, fighting his own better judgment and trying to not get up and intervene, "you can let up."

"That's what she'd have you believe, Buck," Steve answered in a panting huff, "she's caught me in that lie before."

"Did her face turn that red then too?"

"What?" Steve paused, lifting his foot away and stepping to the side to look at what his friend was so worried about. Taking full advantage of the rookie mistake, you pushed yourself up and jabbed your elbow into his throat to make him stumble back a step, grabbing his arm and spinning to gain enough inertia to flip him onto his back with a slap to the mat so hard that you swore you felt the floor shake.

"You didn't have me, just so we're clear."

"I told you!" Steve snapped, trying to push up but you moved quickly and flipped him onto his front and pinned his arms back. With each attempt to move, you twisted his shoulders enough to stop him with a loud wince of pain. "Thanks a lot, Buck," he groaned, "shoulda known you were working together."

"We weren't," Bucky insisted, "I swear, I was just saying that I thought you won!"

"Clearly, I didn't." Steve pushed up again, still futile in his attempt to evade your hold. You felt his body relax beneath you and knew that he was giving up, allowing you to take the victory on a fight that had taken the better part of the afternoon to win. You'd be lying if you said that you weren't relieved, and that your body was nearly ready to give up if it had gone on any longer. With one hand very slowly and purposefully releasing him, you waited just a moment as a test of what he would do next before releasing your other.

"Captain, almost always a pleasure," you smiled, standing up to let him back onto his feet next to you, stopping with a whine at a pain in your back where he had pressed his foot. "Nope, I take it back. You are still an asshole."

Bucky leapt up from his seat and hurried to your side, gently rubbing his hand over your back with a look of worry in his expression as he watched you. Even without looking at him directly, you could feel the cold stare he gave Steve when he led you back to his bench to rest. "Alright, sweetheart, you're done for the day, okay?"

"Sweetheart?" Steve scoffed, grabbing a towel to wipe the beads of sweat from his brow. "That escalated quickly, don't ya think?"

"Is that a problem?" Bucky shot back, sitting up just a little straighter.

"Guys, take the testosterone down a notch."

"No, not at all," Steve answered with a shake of his head and a low chuckle, "just that it was only a few weeks ago that you hated her and couldn't get her out of your sight quick enough. Seems that you're moving really fast to me."

"Oh, well, excuse the hell outta me," Bucky argued, standing now, "but I'm not gonna just sit on my ass and let the love of my life get away. I'm not waiting forever only for my dance to never happen, Steve."

"Buck!" you gasped, standing up with him and taking his arm to pull him back. "Come on, let's calm down, please."

"So she's the love of your life now? That's incredible. Was she the love of your life when she took off when you needed her and lied to you about your own son? Hmm? What kind of a woman does that?"

Now he had pushed too far, bringing up things that you had thought were resolved in the few weeks that you had been there. You had thought that your relationship with Steve was beginning to be repaired now that he could see who you really were, but apparently there were still deep-seeded feelings that he had yet to face and now they were uncontrollably bursting out at you. "That's not fair," you whispered darkly, "and it's not your business, Rogers."

"If it involves protecting my best friend, then it sure as hell is."

"Is this because you lost to a girl?" you hissed, pushing forward and past Bucky, almost touching Steve with your proximity. "Because you've lost to me before. What's so different now? Why are you making this personal?"

"Because I just got him back!" Steve answered quickly, as if the words came out without his choice. His eyes had built to a panic as he spoke, his breaths quickened and uneven now that his fear had been put out on display, "and I'm not going to lose him again, especially not to you of all people."

The three of you stood silently for a moment, allowing the weight of his words to hang heavily in the air between you; it was uncomfortable to say the least, and none of you knew what to say in response. "Okay," you finally whispered, your stature dropping in defeat and realization, "I'm just gonna go. We're supposed to talk to James soon." You turned to leave, but Bucky gave quick chase and gently took your hand to hold you next to him.

"Hey, don't listen to him, okay? He doesn't know what he's talking about. This isn't about him at all, it's you and me."

"Yeah," you smiled weakly, "okay. Listen, I'm just going to run upstairs and clean up a bit."

Seeing the sadness in your eyes that had so quickly replaced the sparkle that he had seen grow in the last weeks, he couldn't help but take on that pain himself; he pulled your hand with a sharp motion, bringing you to him quickly, desperate to kiss away the damage that Steve had done so efficiently. He felt fear wash over him and worried that you would leave him again, and it wasn't a risk that he was about to take, no matter what Steve had the nerve to think was best for him.

"Don't leave," he whispered, resting his forehead against yours, "I meant what I said. I do love you. I always have, that never changed."

"You too," you murmured back, pushing away with your best attempt to give him a consoling and reassuring grin, but you knew that you were failing in your efforts. He released his hold on you despite his reluctance, and you turned to leave at the first chance you could.

"Buck, listen, I'm sorry if I came across as a jerk-"

"No, that's it!" Bucky growled, lowering his shoulder and slamming Steve back against the wall with a resounding hit that knocked equipment hanging behind him to the ground. "This is none of your goddamn business, do you get me? You think you know what's best for me, and for some reason you won't accept it if I think you're wrong! I'm a grown man, Steve, and I can make my own decisions. I'm not broken anymore, so stop trying to fix me!"

"That's not what I'm doing!"

"Then what is it?"

"I'm jealous, alright?!"

Bucky's mouth dropped open, completely in shock at the abrupt honesty that he never would have expected; even Steve looked like he was surprised at his own words. The two men stood silently for a moment, neither of them knowing what to say; Bucky backed away a few steps, very slowly, allowing his friend to drop his gaze away and take a few shuffling steps to sit on the farthest bench from him.

"Steve, why didn't you just talk to me?" Bucky asked quietly, his voice now gentle and almost inaudible compared to the booming yells that had shaken the room around him only seconds ago. "Why did you have to bring her into this? You know that she's already freaking out about staying here, and we haven't even talked to James yet. I'm already scared enough, man."

"I don't know what to say," he answered timidly, still avoiding looking up at Bucky, his eyes diligently focused on his own hands as they wrung together anxiously. "I'm ashamed of how I feel. I should be happy that you're finding a life after everything...and I am," he sighed, his shoulders dropping heavily, "I really am. It's just..."

"You want it too."

"Yeah."

"Steve, come on, it's gonna happen."

"That's...uh...not exactly..." Steve stammered, "that's not...exactly what I mean."

Bucky shrugged and looked at him expectantly, his hands out as if trying to take the answer from his friend when he couldn't make the words come out on his own. Steve had never, in his entire life, had this much trouble talking to him, and he had to use all of his effort to not feel just a little bit hurt by it. "Okay? So what exactly do you mean?"

"It's not that I want it, Buck," he whimpered under his breath, awaiting the explosion that was sure to come, "I want her."

~~~

You took some time to collect yourself after the small verbal spar with Steve, the situation running through your mind over and over until you had exhausted every option as to why he was being such a..."dick", you mumbled under your breath, turning to shift your focus to the clock on the wall. Bucky was supposed to meet you here in the living room five minutes ago and had yet to appear; you couldn't start the conversation without him, agreeing that this would be the time for you to approach James together. A quick look around the spacious room proved to give you nothing so much as even the idea that he was on the way, and you were just about to go look for him when an almost shy voice broke your thoughts.

"Is your leg okay now?"

"Hmm? Oh...hey, bud," you replied quickly, looking down at James with a half-hearted smile in the hopes of hiding your concern. "Yeah, my leg's good. You're not still worried about that are you? I just had a practice with Cap and it wasn't a problem at all."

"Good," he now beamed widely, clearly relieved, "I worry a lot sometimes, and I feel really bad for what I did. I didn't want to ruin your job either."

"You didn't, honey, I'm fine." You glanced over your shoulder at the clock once again, this time also taking a second to look at the watch on your wrist just to be sure that the time on the wall was correct; it was. "James, do you want to come with me to find Buck? He was supposed to meet me here."

"Sure, (Y/N), no problem." The little boy reached up and grabbed your hand as if it were perfectly natural, and even to you, it felt that way. Your hand encompassed nearly the full size of his, but he made sure that you knew he was able to keep a grip despite the disproportion. You ventured towards the gym with the hope that Bucky wasn't still there, particularly not with Steve, but as you rounded the final corner, your fears were realized. "Are they fighting?" James asked softly, pausing to let you take a few steps ahead, your empty hand held out cautiously to hold him back as he peeked around you to see where the booming voices were coming from. You pushed the door open just the smallest crack, but the volume was enough to stop you both cold.

"Jesus Christ, Steve," Bucky shouted, "we haven't even told James that he's our son yet and that we want to be a family, and you're stuck in some sick fantasy about taking his mom from us! Until you can get your head out of your ass, you stay the hell away from (Y/N), you got me? You so much as look at her in a way that I don't like, and I'll make sure that you never lay eyes on her again."

"Buck..." you broke in with quiet disbelief, barely catching his attention.

"What?!" he snapped harshly, spinning towards you but turning to silence himself immediately at the sight of the two of you, with James paling at the news he had just heard. "Oh, no...hey, buddy," he smiled in embarrassment, "I'm sorry, I lost my temper there for a second. W-what did you hear?"

James pushed his way out in front of you, keeping his tight grip on your hand; maybe even just a little bit tighter than before. Giving Steve a sideways glance as his feet stopped, his posture straightened as much as his six-year-old frame would allow, trying to take this opportunity to make a point that was sure to stick. If he was going to have the two of you as parents, he was going to prove his worth from the first minute.

"I heard my Dad. For the first time, I heard my real Dad saying that I have a family that wants me. No one has ever said that to me before."

"James, I really didn't mean for you to find out like that," Bucky apologized readily, "I'm so sorry." His heart was aching at hearing his son's admission, feeling more sorrowful than ever that he had missed so many years already and that the boy had never known what being wanted and loved felt like. Bucky's heart began to race and pound in his ears as he waited for James to reply, fearful that after all of this, he could still reject him.

"It's okay, I've still got Mom's hand," the tiny version of Bucky smiled, looking up at you with a brilliant acceptance and eagerness in his eyes; but then remembrance struck and his gaze slowly shifted to Steve and his eyes grew darker, so very much like his father's did when he was angry, and now the two had never looked more alike. "But if anyone thinks that I'm going to let go of her again, they're gonna have to go through me."

Part 6

After the interrupted fight between Steve and Bucky, you took James up to his room to talk to him alone and to be sure that he was going to be okay after what he had heard. He was silent as he walked by your side, but his tight grip on your hand never wavered, even as you pushed his door open and allowed him to take the lead. He moved to take a seat on the wide ledge of the window that overlooked the woods at the edge of the grounds, jumping up to rest against the wall as you took your seat across from him.

"So, what you heard back there," you began, "that wasn't anything that you need to worry about, okay?"

"Steve can't do that to us."

"Steve isn't, James. Sometimes emotions get the best of us and we feel things that aren't exactly true. He might think that he likes me in that way, but I don't think he really does. I'm not worried about your Uncle Steve, so he shouldn't worry you either."

"Don't call him that," the boy snapped back, turning to face you, "I won't."

"Okay, we don't have to," you relented eagerly, "that's completely up to you. Maybe someday-"

"Maybe never."

"Right," you sighed, giving him a gentle smile that was returned with a straight expression. "Alright, so tell me, are you okay? That was pretty big news that we hit you with out of nowhere. I'm sure it was a shock."

"It was a good shock though...Mom. Is it okay if I call you that now?"

"Of course, if that's what you want."

"It is," he answered in a whisper, turning his attention again to the trees that lined the horizon. "My other family...those people who said they would be my parents...they didn't really want me there. I could tell. No matter what I did, it made them mad. I didn't mean to be a bad kid, I really didn't. They just made me so...angry."

"I'm sure you weren't bad, sweetie."

He remained still as he ran through his time with his surrogate family in his mind, and as each memory passed by, his breaths became faster and more shallow until he was nearly panting out his words. "They said that I burned down the barn on purpose, but I didn't, I swear! That's why they called those people to come and take me away, I know it!"

"Okay..." you exhaled heavily, running a consoling hand over his arm, "James, I need you to tell me, does anything else happen when you're angry, or just fire?"

"I didn't do it on purpose!"

"I didn't say that you did."

"You're going to send me away too, aren't you?" he asked in a panic, his voice growing louder with each word as the conversation rapidly began to spin out of control in front of you. "You can't do that!"

"James, listen to me," you said, trying to maintain calm in contrast to the explosion of pure fear happening in front of you, "I'm not sending you away. I need to know because I used to do it too. When I was little, it happened all the time."

"You're lying."

"Do you want to see?" you offered, never breaking his eye contact as you set a small plant behind you ablaze without so much as a flinch. "I learned how to control it. I can help you, honey."

The boy's eyes were wide as he watched the leaves burn away until the plant was all but gone, looking at you with a strange mixture of confusion and anger that you weren't expecting. You had thought that the commonality would be something to make him feel better, but the exact opposite was what you were getting in return; he yanked his arm away from you and his entire demeanor shifted before your eyes. "You did this to me?"

"FRIDAY, please get Bucky up here," you commanded quietly, standing up to take on a more authoritative stance over your son, who was clearly not in control of his emotions; he needed to be reined in before any real damage could be done and you wanted strength in numbers on your side. "Yes, that power came from me. I didn't want it either, and I still don't, but it's who I am and I learned how to deal with it. I need you to calm down so we can talk about this, okay?"

"It's your fault why they sent me away with those people! Just like you sent me away!" His small hands clenched together in tight fists at his sides when he stood to face you, "you should have left me there."

You could hear Bucky's heavy footsteps bounding down the hallway until they came to a stop outside the door and he threw the door open looking almost as panicked as James had been. Before his mouth could open to say anything, the building's fire alarms began to sound overhead.

"What did you do?" you asked your son, though not actually expecting a willing answer anymore. "FRIDAY?"

"There is a fire in the lab, ma'am, but I have it contained."

"Did anyone get hurt?" Bucky added, his eyes now locked with yours.

"Mr. Stark was inside, but he's unharmed."

James slammed his hands over his ears as the shrill and blaring sound continued, filling the room around him so loudly that it looked to hurt.

"Then why are the alarms still going?" you asked urgently, surprised when the boy let you put your hands over his.

"There is another fire in the gymnasium. Captain Rogers and Miss Romanoff are out safely."

"Buck, go," you ordered, kneeling down in front of the boy, "James, please...you have to stop. You're going to hurt someone. I know that you don't mean to, okay? I know that this just happens, and it's not your fault. I just need you to focus on something else and try to calm down." The alarms stopped and you both pulled your hands away with a sigh of relief. He looked at you for a moment, gathering himself again and taking a step back, remembering why his attack on the compound happened in the first place.

"How do you know that I didn't mean to?" he asked coldly, sending a painful shiver down your spine at the darkness in his tone. "The lab was only because I missed my target. I like Tony."

"What...who was your target, James?" You already knew the answer that he was about to give you, but your heart didn't want to believe that it was true; this little six-year-old boy was about to unequivocally prove to you that he had been far more damaged than you had believed, and the experiences that he went through had changed him in ways that left you awash with both guilt and horror.

"I guess I'll just have to try harder."

"James, please. Don't make me do this."

He closed his eyes and the alarms began to sound once more, leaving you no choice; you reached out and grabbed him, bringing him down to the floor with you so you could spin him around and hold his back to you with your arms and legs pinning his. You took an agonizing deep breath and steeled your nerves, pressing your hand over his mouth and nose so that he couldn't break free.

"Just a nap, baby, I promise," you whispered to him, feeling the heated sting of tears building in your eyes, "just a little nap."

~~~

You had promised your son that you weren't sending him away and that you weren't abandoning him again, but now the only way that you could show him was by keeping vigil at his bedside while he slept under the sedatives that Banner was feeding into his body. It was a frightened move on your part to knock him out, but at the time you knew that it was all you had that would work, and Bucky actually agreed. He sat next to you, quiet and still, his hand over yours but not holding it; you hadn't spoken in hours, but neither of you knew what to say even if you tried. You felt Bucky's hand twitch before pulling it away at the sound of someone walking up behind him, and soon his position next to you was replaced by Steve.

"You alright?" he asked softly, looking at James and the monitors around him, avoiding your eyes very purposefully. His posture was rigid and uncomfortable with his hands pressed firmly atop his legs to keep them in place; he wanted to console you, just as a friend, but even that felt too risky given the circumstances.

"Never better."

"Right."

Several more minutes passed by, the two of you sitting in silence other than the quiet beeps over his bed. You weren't sure if Bucky stayed in the room or not, but it didn't matter; it wouldn't change the conversation that you would have with his friend, as there was no other choice now but to get it over with. Even as the words finally found your lips, the two of you sat staring straight ahead, determined to stay that way. "Steve..."

"I didn't mean it."

"Yes, you did."

"Okay, I did," he relented, "but not the way that it came out. I am jealous, and that's...wow, that's...that's really not sitting well with me." His hands began to nervously rub back and forth along the tops of his thighs and he shifted a few times in his chair, "I haven't felt this towards Buck in a long time. Not a fan."

"Can't imagine that you would be."

"It's not you, (Y/N)," he began again quickly, his words tumbling over each other as he finally turned to face you, "I mean, it's you, sure, but only because you're the one making me realize that I'm never going to be able to find my...you. I'm sorry," he stopped suddenly, turning away, "this isn't the time to talk about this. I'm just babbling...I'm sorry."

"You don't always have to be the one to save the world, Steve," you replied gently, reaching over to take his hand with a hesitant smile when he didn't pull away. "It's okay to let someone save you once in a while, and focus on what you want for your life instead of everyone else's. So tell me, did you guys talk it out or did he knock some sense into you?"

"What makes you think that he could?" Steve gasped. "You really don't give me any credit, (Y/N), and I think that's a big part of our trust issues here."

"Well I always win, so it's hard to give credit to a guy whose ass I can kick every time."

"Pfft, yeah, good point," he scoffed. "Let's just say it's a relief that I can heal so fast. I took a hit to the head that had the room spinning for a few minutes." Steve stopped at the sound of Bruce entering the infirmary, watching him with a sharp focus as he looked at every monitor twice and checked the medications that were still running while he took notes. "We'll figure this out, (Y/N). We're all ready to do whatever you guys need."

"You don't have to do that, Steve."

"Yes, we do," he argued, taking your arm to turn you towards him, "(Y/N), I thought you understood. I know that you've always been on your own out there, but we're your family now, and we're not about to let you guys do this alone."

"Thanks," you muttered, sniffling with a quick pass of your sleeve over your tear-filled eyes, "because I don't think that we can."

Part 7

"James," you spoke to your son quietly, keeping your hand over his as you tried to wake him. Bruce was lifting his sedation very slowly so that the boy didn't panic and cause any further damage to the compound, and you had hoped that the sound of a familiar voice would help to ease him back to wakefulness. Bucky was sitting on his other side, keeping a hand on him as well; with each utterance of his name, the two of you looked at each other with a hint of fear and apprehension as to what you were going to do once he was awake.

You didn't really have a great plan, and Bucky hated the one that you were insisting on; once James was able to be awake without any more risk, you would leave with him until he learned control of both his power and anger. You believed that if you could work with him on your own, somewhere private and away from tensions like those that came with living here, you could maybe find the boy who was meant to be your son somewhere inside of him. This rage-filled, reactionary and terrifying version of James was not who he was; you knew that with every fiber of your being. He was a product of two people who were at their worst during a time in their lives that they wanted to forget, but that shouldn't be his burden, and you were ready to take it from him.

"James, can you wake up?" you tried again, feeling a slight tremble in his hand. "That's it, sweetheart, just open your eyes for me, okay?" His eyes barely opened and quickly closed again at the bright lights over his head that blinded his vision, a small groan escaping his throat when he couldn't reach his restrained hand up to cover them. "FRIDAY, turn the lights down, please."

Bucky gave you a silent nod and reached down to take off the metal restraint that held his son's arm to the bed, leaving you to remove the other as you both watched, holding your breath with unspoken hopes that he wouldn't lash out again. "Hey, kiddo," he finally spoke, "how ya feeling?"

"My brain feels fuzzy."

"That's the medicine that Dr. Banner has been giving you to help you sleep. It won't last long."

James coughed gently a few times, trying to clear the dryness from his throat after sleeping for nearly two days. You didn't dare to wake him before you had a plan of action in place, and now that you had one, even if not the best, you didn't feel right keeping him out any longer. His head turned slowly towards you, his eyes looking so much softer than the last time you saw them, when they were filled with fire and an uncontrollable rage that you had only ever seen from one other person; his father.

"Are you thirsty?" you asked, breaking eye contact before he could see the pain in yours.

"Yeah."

Bucky stood and hurried to the other side of the infirmary, grabbing a bottle of water for him. He stayed next to him and helped him sit up, keeping a supportive but also cautious hand on the boy's back while he quenched his thirst eagerly. It was hard to know what to say; he wanted to ask James what the hell he was thinking and explain to him how he had nearly hurt people that he cared about, and to tell him that he couldn't allow that to happen again. He had to consciously fight the urge to punish his son, the thoughts creating feelings within himself that he refused to entertain. "I need you to promise me something, James. I need you to promise me that you can keep yourself under control and that you'll listen to what we have to say. The last thing that your mom and I want to do is this again," he finished with a wave of his hand around the room.

"I can do it," he nodded. "I promise."

"Okay," Bucky sighed, keeping his hand in place as he moved to sit next to him, "I need you to tell me something. Tell me who you were trying to hurt and why."

"I'm sorry," James blurted out, sitting himself up straighter with wide eyes, "I didn't mean to-"

"No, calm down," Bucky answered in a slow and soothing voice, the tone making even you feel at ease, "we're just talking. There's no blame happening here, I just need to understand, that's all. I promise, too."

James looked to you for agreement, letting out a long breath when you nodded to encourage him to continue. His body visibly relaxed, almost so much that he leaned back into Bucky's hand to keep upright. "It was Steve," he relented, now casting his gaze away, "I got mad that he said he liked Mom and then I got scared that he would take her away before I got to have her with me. When we talked about my last family, it made me feel worse, and I got scared."

"Did you realize what you were doing?"

"Not at first, because when I get so mad, my head gets cloudy and messed up. I just feel hot all over and everything looks red."

"But when you did realize?"

"I had so much energy to get rid of that I thought I could use it to stop him. It's like I explode and I can't stop it from happening."

"Yeah," you muttered, your eyes glazed over in deep thought as you listened, remembering your own childhood experiences with the powers that nearly ruined everything. You couldn't count how many people had abandoned you over your years, and how much fear you had instilled in them with some of the things that you did. It wasn't like you wanted to do it; it just happened, and when your emotions ran hot, so did you. It had given you a childhood lived mostly alone until Hydra took you in and made you into their weapon. They made you do things that haunted your mind and ravaged your sleep, some of them against the very team that was working to help you and your son now.

But...it also gave you these two in front of you. To see them sitting next to each other was like looking through time, with two versions of the same person meeting against impossibility. No matter what terror Hydra had put you through, and no matter how many times you would have to apologize to your new friends who were once enemies, you vowed to show James that this could be overcome, and that past indiscretions could be forgiven. You vowed to protect him from the path that you had travelled, while helping him to see his own.

"I'm so sorry, honey," you apologized, your voice barely a whisper, "I never meant to do this to you. You can blame me, it's okay."

"Hey, no one blames you, doll."

"I don't blame you," James agreed with an enthusiastic shake of his head, "I said I did, and I'm really sorry. I didn't mean that."

"Well, we can agree to disagree," you smiled faintly. "But, your dad and I were talking and we think we have an idea. I'd like to take you somewhere for a while, just you and me. I can teach you how to control this so that if you never want to use your power again, you won't. You'll be able to stop it before it even starts."

Your boy looked back and forth from you and to Bucky a few times, looking for either of you to give him the answer; when neither of you did, he settled his gaze on you again, doing his best to find his own resolve. He was trying so hard to keep himself composed, to make you proud, and to make you want to keep him unlike those last people. They didn't care about him, but as he sat here now, he could feel in the air around him that you did; he felt like he belonged, and it was so comforting to him that, in this moment, he would do anything you asked of him just to make it last a little longer. "I do. I want that very much. To...to be like you."

~~~

Bucky's arms were wrapped around you as he stood behind you, watching you pack your final items with his chin on your shoulder and a grip so tight that you knew he would leave bruises behind. James was in the next room packing too, and it would be only a matter of minutes now before you would both be gone.

"You'll call me every day?"

"Every day."

"And send me goodnight pictures?"

"Of course."

He hummed sorrowfully despite your reassurances, sucking in a breath when he saw the last item go into your suitcase and heard the sound of the zipper closing it for the last time. "How long?"

"I don't know," you sighed in reply, leaning your head back to rest against him, "it all depends on his progress."

"Mom?"

You snapped out of your wave of despair at leaving and perked up, though not pulling away from Bucky; not only did you not want him to let go, but you wanted James to see that you were both determined to be together and would be there for him. "Yeah, honey, what's up?"

"Do you think it would be okay..." he stopped, looking down at his nervously shuffling feet, "could you maybe...take me to talk to Steve?"

"Of course, yeah," you agreed. You felt Bucky's grip tighten just slightly, though you didn't think it possible. "Dad can carry our stuff down while we go find him. FRIDAY?"

"The Captain is in the hangar bay, ma'am. He's making preparations for your departure."

You heard a groan from low in Bucky's chest at the word departure, though he still reluctantly released you to take James' hand so you could lead him to Steve. He remained silent as you traversed the long hallways, rode in the elevator, and finally made your way into the bay to find Steve in the quinjet laying in the final coordinates of your destination.

"Hey, (Y/N), James," he smiled, turning the pilot seat to give you his full attention, "are you guys ready? Just say the word, and we can go."

James squeezed your hand and stood steady, willing himself to step forward and say what he needed to say to Steve. He had been running through this in his head for the last hour as he packed, and he thought he was ready until he found himself standing in front of the man who he had no lost love for. "Um, Cap...Steve," he began in a tremulous voice, "can I say something to you first?"

"Yeah, absolutely."

"I'm sorry for not giving you a chance and thinking that you would try to break up Mom and Dad," he blurted out, "because I really do know that you wouldn't. You're Captain America."

"Yep, I sure am," Steve grinned widely, "and no, I would never do that. You're my friend."

"I am?"

"Well, yeah. We just got off to a rough start, that's all. Kinda like your mom and me, and we're good now, right?"

"Right! Okay, thanks!" James let out a relieved sigh. "Oh, and I'm sorry that I tried to set you on fire."

"Yeah, me too," you added with a smirk. "And for the times that I actually did."

~~~

"Buck, you've been staring out the window for four hours. Steve is the most punctual guy we know, and if he says the trip takes five hours, he'll be back in five. Maybe grab a snack, take a quick run, pee before they get here...anything but standing in that spot one minute longer."

"Shut up, Sam," Bucky replied curtly, "I ain't moving."

"If you can't wait then why didn't you just go with?"

"You know why. It would ruin the plan."

"Oh my god," Sam huffed, throwing his tablet onto the kitchen table with a loud bang that made Bucky jump, "enough with the plan! Just show her the ring and I don't think you'll even have to ask. I almost went blind looking at the damn thing."

"I asked for the diamond with the most fire in it."

"Holy shit, that's smooth, man. You're good. Can I marry you instead?"

Bucky finally turned away from the window, from the spot that he had been holding so long that his eyes needed a minute to adjust to the shift in light. His gaze wandered up and down as he studied his friend's form as if actually considering it, amusing himself when Sam finally began to shift uncomfortably. "You're not my type."

"Too much sexy for ya?"

"Too much penis."

Sam stopped, frozen in place with his mouth agape and silent. Bucky somehow held a perfectly still expression as he waited, concentrating on keeping the laughter building inside of him from bursting out. "Nope," Sam finally uttered, still shocked, "I can't...I can't believe you just said that."

The sound of the hangar bay doors opening jolted Bucky back to attention, smiling widely as he ran to meet you, telling himself that he had to remember to thank Steve for being early this one time. With feet nearly tripping over each other, he burst into the bay just as the jet door began to lower, leaping up onto it before it could touch the ground.

"Hey, Buck-"

He didn't let you finish your greeting, grabbing you in his arms and tipping you back, kissing you desperately as if he hadn't seen you in years, and not only a mere four weeks. When he allowed you to come up for air, Steve and James were standing together and watching with stern expressions, disgruntled by the complete disregard for them being there at all.

"Get a room," Steve grumbled, putting a hand on James' back to lead him out. "Come on kid, trust me, this only gets worse."

"Hey, Dad? What's this?"

Bucky's eyes widened at almost the exact second that the words left his son's lips, his hand slapping down on the pocket of his jacket only to find that the small box he was carrying had fallen out in his excitement to sprint across the hangar and leap onto the jet door. "Close your eyes," he whispered to you, his expression pleading, "please. For me."

"Oh my god! Are you guys getting married?!"

"Or, nevermind," he added, leaning forward to rest his forehead to yours in exasperation. "So much for the plan."

James ran back into the jet with the box in hand, open to display the ring that Bucky had spent every last dime he had on, and a few of Tony's dimes too. Steve stopped him from going any further, waiting for his best friend to have at least the moment of asking you formally, anxious to watch it play out before him, but it never came. Bucky opened his mouth to say the words, to try to stumble through a speech that he wasn't even sure about, knowing that he was probably going to mess it up anyway, but before a single syllable could roll from his tongue, you replied to the question that never needed to be asked to know that the answer was obvious.

"Yes, James, we're getting married."