Peggy woke as she often did; curled up spooned into Steve’s stomach, warm and comfortable until sleep retreated enough to make her body realize she’d been in that position all night. They were alone in the bed, which she wouldn’t say happened often, but still with some regularity. Prying Steve’s arm from her waist prompted some mumbled, mostly unconscious protest. He was clingy in sleep. Peggy slipped from the bed nonetheless and stretched the slight stiffness from her muscles on her way to the bathroom.
The door to what they still called the guest bedroom was open a crack, letting through the sound of harsh but regular breathing. She passed it by, giving him a last bit of time should he need it. But when she returned from the toilet and poked her head inside, Bucky grinned up at her.
He was on the floor doing one-armed push-ups, his metal arm curled behind his back – and on the broad planes of his back, curled up asleep in the dip of his spine and the cradle of his arm, was Eleanor. The rise and fall of Bucky’s movements was so fluid it didn’t even wake her, or dislodge the stuffed dolphin clasped loosely in her little fist. Knowing her daughter and the boredom, fidgeting, and irritation waking up early usually meant for her and her sister, Peggy thought the movements of Bucky’s push-ups were probably what had lulled Eleanor back to sleep in the first place.
Bucky pushed himself up from the floor a little harder and managed to put a finger to his lips and still stick the landing afterwards without jostling the little girl on his back.
"Morning," Bucky whispered.
"Good morning." Smiling back brightly, Peggy settled cross-legged across from Bucky. "How long have you been out here?"
"Hour or so."
Judging by the light sheen of sweat he’d worked up, it had to be at least three.
Bucky pushed and then stretched himself toward her, both of them leaning in for a chaste but lingering kiss.
"And Lenore?" Peggy asked when they finally parted.
"Half an hour."
"I didn’t hear you."
Not whatever nightmare had driven Bucky from their bed this time, nor little Eleanor thoughtlessly slamming doors and raising her voice before sun-up.
"Then we did everything right," Bucky said with a lazy smile.
"I’m sure Steve and I would make for much better weights," Peggy said, in lieu of everything he still had trouble listening to: We would be more than happy to wake up for you. You don’t have to shut yourself away and face your demons alone. We’re here; we love you; we want to help.
He’d let Eleanor keep him company. She was confident he didn’t need it today.
"Maybe." Bucky lowered himself and pushed back up with a huff of breath and a roguish grin. "You both have way too much elbow going on to make it comfortable, though."
"Slander," Steve slurred from the doorway, surprising neither of them. He yawned hugely. His jaw cracked and he rubbed his face. "Morning."
"Morning," Peggy and Bucky chorused.
Leaning against the door jamb, Steve took in the scene, his expression growing warmer the more he blinked the sleep from his eyes. "I should draw this."
"Better hurry, she’s starting to squirm," Bucky warned.
"Neither of you are thinking big enough," Peggy said. "We’ve got a video camera. If we’re going to immortalize this, we should take it all the way. See how much weight you can really hold."
She was sure he already knew the answer to that, through much more unpleasant means, but that didn’t matter. This was different.
"You just want to sit on me, you degenerate woman."
"Not just me."
"Oh, I get it. I look like the bottom of a pile of people to you, do I?"
"You look –" Steve said, moving in on the three of them with a predatory glint in his eye just as Eleanor looked owlishly around at her three parents. "– like the bottom of a pile of hugs!"
And somehow, he got all of them scooped up and rolling around on the floor, laughing.