Light Up The Night

The latest frost left the ground slippery and icy. Seeing his breath in the air made Bucky ache for a cigarette. He recognized that as an unhealthy coping strategy, particularly given that his logic for engaging in it was to decrease his stress. Bucky had no actual intention of going out and buying a pack but a part of him felt guilty at the mere thought of it.

Or maybe that was just guilt because after helping Steve get his mom inside after her morning appointment, Bucky had asked if it would be okay if he stepped outside for a couple of minutes. It wasn’t like he’d left Steve with anything or hadn’t been supportive over the past several weeks but, he still knew this wasn’t entirely fair of him. Steve had more than enough to deal with and he depended on Bucky – not that he’d ever say it, Bucky recognized that much at least – and here Bucky was, needing to take a couple of minutes to himself to calm down.

It wasn’t that he felt particularly not calm. It was just that he wanted a goddamn cigarette.

It had been months since his cravings got this bad. The first couple of weeks had been absolute hell but Natasha wouldn’t let him smoke inside the townhouse. In those early days and weeks of staying with her the mere thought of stepping outside set off a panic attack. So he’d fought through the misery and used the patch and tried the gum and did everything he could to keep himself sane. By the time Bucky realized that going out wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it would be he no longer had a pack in his pocket to pull from. Especially when he felt as though he wasn’t making progress anywhere else in his life, he wasn’t about to go back to old, bad habits.

After that, the cravings diminished. Sure, if someone around him was smoking, especially when he was at the bar and his urge to smoke was already high from the years of those two behaviors being paired together, he might find himself contemplating having one himself but those instances were few and far between. The longer he’d gone, the stronger his resolve had become.

Hell, aside from reminiscing on his old habits on New Year’s Eve, he’d barely thought about smoking at any length for months.

And now Bucky couldn’t seem to get those thoughts out of his head. Ever since waking up on to the news about Steve’s mom, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Granted, the train ride back had been a blur given that he was panicked, half asleep, probably also somewhat hungover, and overall not exactly in the best state of mind. But from the moment he’d followed Steve through the hospital and into Sarah Rogers’ room, suddenly all he could think about was getting a goddamn pack of cigarettes.

Bucky thought it would fade, after that first week when the pneumonia was under control and her breathing had improved enough for her to be discharged home. After all, it didn’t entirely surprise him that after several long days where he spent at least 60% of time in the hospital that those urges would come back. Just being around the hospital, with the smell of disinfectant and sterile everything from the white walls to the floor to the metal trays everywhere brought back way too many memories of the time he’d spent there. Reflecting on those memories always felt surreal and hazy and the majority of the time when something brought them on, they were fragmented and confusing. He still couldn’t discern whether that was just the trauma talking or the actual fact that every bit of consciousness only lasted so long.

Part of it might have been that he’d been on his own for managing his anxiety and the trigger of medical environments. Given Mrs. Rogers’ condition, Bucky hadn’t been accompanied by Winter to any of those visits out of legitimate concern of raising the risk for complications, given her immune system’s compromised state. Even when her condition improved, Bucky hadn’t considered bringing Winter along and instead he’d done what he could to help himself cope until he could head back to Shield.

Over those first few days, when Bucky felt himself slipping, he pulled himself back using every technique he’d learned in therapy. He kept the worry stone in his pocket for grounding and focused on the differences between then and now, specifically looking at and touching his metal arm. His new relationship with the prosthesis helped with that. When he found himself getting sucked into one of those memories, he just had to remind himself that his left arm was there, just different, without the absence of the limb and bandages in place he’d experienced during those months in the hospital.

Plus, when he did return to Shield, he had Winter there to help pull him back from slipping into flashbacks. That helped to limit the stress for being fully responsible for himself, which became exhausting after the hours and hours of already struggling to pull himself back from falling over the edge.

He needed to support Steve and hadn’t wanted to cause Steve any additional stress. So he’d kept himself as stable as he could.

He’d been exhausted by the end of it but he had to admit that even now, fighting the urge to track down a cigarette, he was pretty proud of himself. He’d reached out to Natasha and Sam for support while Steve was in class, and he’d tried to compensate for the overall exhaustion by getting a proper amount of sleep and remembering to eat. Overall, he hadn’t gotten that bad, nowhere near where he’d been during the early days of his recovery, which was saying something after everything.

Bucky had even managed to maintain 90% his work schedule without completely falling apart. For someone who hadn’t been able to remember to eat without a reminder from others less than a year ago, this was a pretty major step.

The front door creaked open and Steve’s head poked out. “Buck? You okay?”

Bucky exhaled slowly, tried not to let himself fall into a sneaky hate spiral, and turned to Steve. “Yeah, I’m good. Sorry I was out here for a bit. You need anything?”

Steve gave him a searching look but shook his head. “Mom’s pretty well settled and is insisting I get my ass out of here and head to work. She’s got a list of phone numbers, including both of ours, a cell phone right next to her, food within reach, and her favorite show on TV. She seems to think that we’re just fretting. Plus she’s got a friend coming over in about an hour, just to check in, so I think we can go.”

Bucky heard the hesitation in Steve’s voice, just as he did each time they prepared to leave. After what had happened over New Year’s, it seemed as though Steve felt a surge of guilt each time he considered leaving his mother for any length of time. Really, Bucky couldn’t blame. Still, Steve had other things to worry about and deal with already, between classes and Shield. Bucky had worked hard to ensure that Steve still managed to sleep and eat and everything else but he had to admit that if Steve’s mom didn’t need them to stay, it would be better for Steve to have more time to catch up on the rest of the day of work, not to mention his homework, before the evening came on.

“Guess if that’s what she’s saying, I should say goodbye first.” Bucky ran his fingers nervously through his hair before remembering that he’d tied it back earlier in the day and only succeeded in yanking a portion of it out of the elastic tie.

Frustrated, he tugged it off and took one more deep breath, pretending the exhalation was a long stream of smoke rather than cold air, even though there was no false calmness of nicotine, and stepped inside. True to Steve’s words, he found Mrs. Rogers stretched out on the couch, a pillow behind her, a blanket over her legs, and a cup of tea in her hand. There were books and pages of notes – presumably the numbers Steve had mentioned – beside her and the TV was on and showing what was probably the 500th rerun of Law and Order for the day.

Despite the lack of medical equipment in there – though there were also bottles of pills covering the table – the room smelled like a hospital. Bucky couldn’t have said why but it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end and the rest of his skin feel like there were insects crawling all over it. Clearly the past few weeks hadn’t yet desensitized himself to the trigger of anything medical related.

“Need anything before we head out, Mrs. Rogers?” he asked.

“James, for the last time, please call me Sarah, and, yes, I’m fine. You boys don’t need to worry about me. If anything comes up, I have plenty of people I can contact, including both of you.”

“I just wanted to be certain, ma’am,” he said, managing a slight smile. “We’ll be by tomorrow to check in.”

“As I keep telling Steve, you don’t need to check on me every day. You’ve been bringing me to and from appointments and keeping me company during them. That’s already more than enough. I know the two of you have work and classes. I promise that if I need anything, I will let you know.”

Bucky nodded, trying to hide how eager he was to get out of the house and back into the fresh air. Even the walk from the house to the nearest metro station seemed appealing, despite the cold air.

“As long as you promise,” he said softly. “Not sure Steve will agree to that though.”

“You’re damn right I won’t,” Steve said from behind him, and Bucky glanced back to find him standing there, with his hands on his hips. “We’ll be by tomorrow. That’s non-negotiable.”

She sighed. “If you insist but it’s not necessary, Stevie.”

“It is necessary, for me,” Steve said, stepping past Bucky to go to his mother.

Bucky felt the now-familiar awkwardness as he watched Steve take his mother’s hand. The past few weeks he’d been constantly feeling as though he were intruding on the two of them, despite the fact that he knew Steve needed and wanted his support.

“We’ll be back tomorrow,” Steve promised. “Take care of yourself and let me know if you need anything.”

Bucky stepped back to give them a few more moments of privacy – or escape, if he were to be honest with himself – and was joined a few moments later by Steve, who was tugging his jacket on in a clear sign he was ready to go. Bucky reached for his hand and offered a quick squeeze before letting Steve pull on his gloves, and tugging on his own because there was nothing more uncomfortable than having his flesh-and-blood hand freeze and the cold seep into his metal one.

He called a quick goodbye over his shoulder, along with a few well wishes, before stepping outside. Once they were down a block and his attention was on Steve and making certain he wasn’t about to need a trip to the hospital himself because of asthma kicking in, he found that the goose bumps on his arms and the bare skin of the back of his neck were more from the cold than the reminder of hospital rooms.

-~-

It was just after closing time and the shop was in absolute chaos. At least, that was how it seemed to Steve. He’d just locked the door behind his last client of the day, first checking to make sure everyone else’s clients were out as well, when he became aware of everything else happening in the shop. Steve found that after the constant worries on his mind recently, he loved every minute of the disaster his shop was apparently turning into. The last thing he wanted to do was think about his mother – and he’d checked his phone at every opportunity to make certain she hadn’t called. Thankfully, there were an abnormally high number of distractions today.

Wanda stood behind the front desk, reviewing the clients from the day, as she’d agreed to after shadowing Steve through most of his appointments since he’d gotten back around noon. She’d been doing the same for nearly a month at this point – which was beneficial, given that Darcy was pretty much horizontal with Pietro on the couch. Steve probably could have – and should have – separated them but with so much other stuff going on, that seemed to be fairly low on his level of priorities. As long as their clothes stayed on, he wasn’t about to complain too much.

Bucky sat beside Wanda, settled in the chair behind the counter, with his feet propped up on the jewelry case, despite Steve’s consistent pleas that he not do that. He was accompanied by Winter, curled up on the floor at his feet, a clear sign that Bucky was feeling as comfortable as he appeared to be. The recently added metal in Bucky’s ear glinted as he leaned back, his hands interlaced behind his head, the gesture causing his blue and purple streaked hair to fall out of the messy bun he’d tucked it into. He had a huge shit-eating grin plastered to his face as he watched Clint pace back and forth, in and out of the lobby, followed closely behind by a teenage girl with dark hair who was talking a mile a minute despite the fact that Clint wasn’t even meeting her gaze.

“Where’d you learn to shoot? Will you teach me? How long have you been doing tattoos? Can I get a tattoo? What kind of tattoo would you draw for me?”

Steve had heard most of these questions since she’d made her first appearance in the shop, from about the time she’d shown up at 3:30 PM until now, past closing. Her school uniform marked her as attending one of the private schools – he probably could have figured out which one judging by the particular pattern and color of plaid. While Steve had initially been concerned to have a clearly underage girl in the shop, given that no one was about to work on her, he figured she could stay for the time being. Especially since Clint looked utterly exasperated and was providing much needed entertainment.

Noticing Wanda’s faint look of disgust in response to the activities taking place on the couch, Steve thought of telling Pietro and Darcy that they needed to get a room – and specify that “a room” did not include his apartment or any offices – when Clint gave him a pleading look.

“Boss, please do something about her” Clint begged, and looked plaintively at the girl following behind him.

Steve took slight pity on him. “Kate? Your name’s Kate, right?”

Clint had let the name slip a few times, though that had mostly been in the context of, “Kate, not now” and “Kate, I’m busy” and “Kate, please stop.”

When Steve addressed her, the girl nodded. “That’s my name, yeah.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting home? Won’t your parents be wondering why you’re out roaming the streets until all hours of the night?”

“Because you’re so rule abiding, Rogers,” Bucky said. “Truly.”

Kate raised an eyebrow. “It’s not that late. You’re all still here, right?”

“You don’t see any clients here though,” Clint pointed out. “We all work here. That’s why we’re still around.”

She shrugged. “Whatever. Besides, my parents won’t notice or care where I am.”

“Which is why she’s a juvenile delinquent,” Clint said. “Because of her absentee parents.”

“You were doing that community service shit, too,” Kate pointed out. “I wasn’t alone in being sentenced to a few weekends at the farm.”

That explained a few things about her appearance in the shop and stalking of Clint. It also sounded like an intriguing story that Steve was more than interested in learning about. Unfortunately, Clint did not seem to be willing to engage in a story hour.

“But we’re not talking about that,” Clint said. “Because that’s beside the point. C’mon, guys. Don’t you want to head up to the apartment, Barnes? Aren’t you tired?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Bucky said with an easy grin. “Right now this is far more entertaining. Although I could go for some popcorn. Y’know, make it a dinner and a show.”

Kate looked delighted and blew Bucky a kiss. “See? Bucky’s fine with it.”

“Barnes doesn’t count,” Clint grumbled. “How do you two even know each other? She’s only been here a few hours and she’s been stalking me almost the entire time.”

“Oh, we bonded a few hours ago when I had a break from appointments. She offered to make me a flower crown, we’re best of friends now,” Bucky said.

Steve felt a rush of pride on Bucky’s behalf. Despite how far he’d come, being around new people often still made him nervous, aside from the small chat he made with clients. He typically wasn’t comfortable enough to claim friendship with someone he’d known for only a few hours.

“We just share an understanding,” Kate added. “We’re already like this.”

She proceeded to demonstrate just how close they were by crossing her fingers. Clint let out an exasperated sigh.

“You just like that she’s giving me a hard time,” he said with an eye roll. “Anyway, I’ve gotta clean up my office.”

With that, he headed back towards the third, recently renovated office, with Kate close behind. Steve was reminded of how incredibly grateful he was to have gone through with his plan to create a third office there. That meant Steve’s personal office was no longer filled with empty – or on some very unfortunate occasions, half-empty – Starbucks cups and the far too frequent unidentifiable stains. Now Steve’s office was back to being his own sanctuary, where he could leave his drawings out without worrying that he would return to find a perfect sketch or mostly filled design drenched by a latte or Frappuccino.

He moved over to the counter to check on Bucky and lightly nudged his feet off the jewelry case. “How many times do I have to tell you not to put your boots on the glass?”

“As many times as I do it,” Bucky said, obligingly lowering his feet to the floor.

Steve rewarded him with a kiss. Wanda made a face and asked, “Can we curb the public displays of affection while I’m playing the fifth wheel?”

“You could never be the fifth wheel,” Steve assured her, though he refrained from kissing Bucky for a second time. “How’re the numbers looking?”

“Looking good,” she said with a smile. ”Bucky’s pretty consistently booked. You and Clint somehow managed to get schedules that complimented one another, which means we’ve got at least one tattoo artist in the shop pretty much every hour of the day, and you’re each booked enough on your own that between that and a few hours of overlap, you guys are keeping the numbers up. Even with a couple of the mornings or afternoons that you and Bucky have taken off, things are still lining up.”

“Exactly what I was hoping you’d say,” Steve said, though he felt the slightest sense of something almost akin to unease.

Ever since he started to consider buying the shop out from Tony, there’d been a nagging sense of discomfort. He knew that he couldn’t see himself working under Tony for the rest of his life; he’d rather leave Shield and set up his own place before doing that. But the fact still remained that Stark had financed this entire operation for him and done more than anyone else would have to keep the shop afloat with all of the shit that had happened over the past few months. Even now, if Steve or Bucky were unable to work certain days because of the medical trips or needs of his mom, the shop wasn’t about to fall apart financially because Stark wouldn’t let that happen. Granted, Steve had yet to mention his mother’s condition to Stark because knowing his luck, Stark would offer to help out and Steve wasn’t about to let himself get any further indebted to him.

Which meant that Steve really didn’t have to worry about buying the shop out anytime soon. Even with the numbers coming up the way they were, he couldn’t afford to spend all of that money on buying the place. Paying off the hospital bills for his mom was going to be hard enough, even with insurance, and the medical bills were still coming in as she continued to need treatment. Any extra money he got would need to go to that because he wasn’t going to let his mother fall into debt. Not after everything she’d done for him. He also damn well wasn’t about to let Stark have the chance to help him out. He’d have to tell him eventually, probably sooner rather than later, to explain the missing hours in his and Bucky’s schedules but he wasn’t about to do it until he had no choice left.

But Steve didn’t want to think about that right now.

“Thanks,” he said quickly, though not quickly enough to avoid the others noticing how distracted he’d been for those few moments, given the look that Bucky gave him. “That’s exactly what I was hoping to hear. Nice work. If Darcy’s not careful, she might find herself out of a job.”

“What was that?” Darcy asked, finally disentangling herself from Pietro enough to join the conversation.

“I’m just saying that with Wanda working the front desk while you’re in class and taking over when you’re otherwise occupied…” Steve said with a pointed look that accidentally shifted into an amused smirk.

Truthfully, he didn’t mind. Seeing Wanda venture more and more out of her shell was worth it. He still wasn’t quite sure when or how things had changed with the twins but it must have been around New Year’s Eve. Since he’d come back a week or so later, after spending the first several days back in DC by his mother’s side, the twins seemed different. Clint had also informed Steve that they no longer required an escort to and from Shield or hide whenever a customer came in.

Pietro, of course, had immediately pointed out that they were always free to do those things, it was just that they were choosing to do that now, and Clint hadn’t had a comeback for that. Steve tried not to ask too many questions about the exact status of everything, including why the twins had requested only to be referred to as Anna and Peter when they were in the shop, unless it was after hours and the employees were the only ones left in the building. Admittedly, it was hard to keep that in mind when they used their actual names outside of work hours, but thus far there hadn’t been any major screw-ups with that.

Almost immediately, Wanda had offered to help out Darcy in terms of getting clients checked in and out, as well as scheduled. Steve had her shadow Darcy for a few days before giving her the go ahead to work on her own while Darcy was in class or on breaks. Wanda proved focused and eager and attempted to refuse when Steve offered to pay her the same amount he gave Darcy, although she’d eventually agreed. He’d also offered Pietro the same opportunity, with more time being spent on inventory and restocking, and he had agreed as well. From that point on, the twins seemed to grow more by the day and had requested that some of their pay go directly back into the shop as credit for them to add to their own body modification. There had been a lot of that for only a few weeks of work.

Within this relatively short period of time, Wanda had added a stud in her nose and additional piercings up and down the shell of her ears. She’d requested a second tattoo in the form of a set of flames done all in watercolor style encircling each wrist and forearm. Pietro, for his part, immediately opted for an eyebrow and tongue piercing and after getting the second wolf completed on his side, had requested another design on his back, this one done in a similar style to the one for the wolves, but instead it was a phoenix, placed directly between his shoulder blades.

With each new piece of body art, the twins seemed to be growing into themselves more and more and expanding in confidence, especially when combined with their opportunities for actually working in the shop. It was a pleasure to see, as far as Steve was concerned, and something that kept his mood lifted despite everything else going on.

Once again, that wasn’t what he wanted to see his thoughts turn towards. It was a lot easier to mentally review his “to do” list and continue working down it than let his thoughts go there.

“If you guys are good out here, I’ll see about finishing up in my office. Just do me a favor and don’t let Pietro and Darcy sneak up to my apartment.”

Steve didn’t wait for a response before retreating down the hall to his office. There were muffled sounds of arguing from Clint’s office but given that there were no sounds of things being thrown or broken, Steve assumed he’d be fine for the time being. He had no idea the exact story behind Kate and Clint’s meeting and maybe he was better off not knowing. Kate seemed like a decent kid, despite the fact that she and Clint apparently met while completing community service, and she provided plenty of entertainment for everyone in the shop, so he was inclined to let her stay for the time being, as long as there were no concerns of work being done on her without parental permission. He trusted that Clint wouldn’t cross that line.

He was in the process of scrubbing down everything with a second or third coat of bleach when there was a light knock on the door.

A moment later, Wanda cracked the door open enough to poke her head inside. “You need anything, boss?”

“You’ve been around Darcy too long if you’re calling me, ‘boss,’” Steve said. “I’m good though. Just cleaning up.”

Despite his words, she came inside and took a seat in his chair. Steve didn’t mind; it had been the same routine over the past few weeks. At first, he hadn’t quite known how to feel with her following him around like a duckling, asking questions about tattooing and the process of designing tattoos. He’d let her do it because it provided a nice distraction and seeing her open up more and more was a nice process to be a part of. Already, he’d become more comfortable with her presence and found himself enjoying and looking forward to her questions and overall enthusiasm.

That wasn’t all she asked about though.

“How’s your mom doing?” she asked softly, right on cue.

It wasn’t that he didn’t talk to Bucky about it, it really wasn’t. Bucky still checked in with him nightly and had accompanied Steve to the hospital in those first few days, despite how triggering being in that environment still was for him. Plus, just like earlier, he’d come with Steve to every appointment and done everything he could to help. Still, somehow it was different talking to Wanda. He kept telling himself that it wasn’t because he didn’t think Bucky could handle it; it was just that he didn’t want to burden him more than he was already burdened. He could see how much each appointment or visit drained Bucky. Even though the bad days weren’t as bad as they used to be, they still drained him. Steve didn’t want to add to that. Not when he could handle things himself.

He didn’t understand entirely why it was easier to talk to Wanda. It wasn’t as though she had any less to deal with, after all. He knew she and her brother had been on the streets and he had a good idea why – hell, he’d seen the scars on her brother’s body. But somehow it was almost easier to be open with her. Part of him felt like he was betraying Bucky but on the other hand, he recognized Bucky had his own support – he still visited Natasha several times a week and had recently been attending mindfulness groups with Sam down at the VA. Steve… Steve didn’t have those same types of options himself. He’d never really wanted them because he didn’t need to tell anyone else when he was struggling but somehow Wanda had wormed her way in there and he’d gotten comfortable enough to share with her.

“She’s doing better,” Steve said with a sigh. “The chemo’s been taking a lot out of her but she’s managed to stay out of the hospital for the past couple of weeks, so that’s something.”

“That’s good, right?” Wanda asked uncertainly.

“It is,” Steve agreed. “But…”

When he trailed off, Wanda supplied, “But you’re still worried.”

“Yeah. She’s the only family I have, you know? I don’t want to lose her.”

She nodded. “I can understand that. I don’t know what I’d do without Pietro. I mean, the same type of threat isn’t there for me with him. Not really. I can’t imagine how I’d feel if he were sick.”

“Logically I know she’s made it through this before and that she’s a fighter,” Steve said, in a way that felt to him more like he was trying to convince himself than he was trying to convince Wanda. “Still, it scares me. Makes it hard to focus on school and work. Makes me panic every time I hear my phone ring.”

“Speaking of cellphones, I have a phone now,” Wanda said after a moment. “I know we talk here but if you wanted to – or if something happened and you needed to – you could call me.”

Immediately, Steve felt himself inwardly recoil in response. The urge to insist that he was fine was almost overwhelming. Christ, what had he been thinking of talking to Wanda like this? She was barely an adult. She had more than enough of her own shit to deal with. She didn’t need his shit on top of everything else.

Yet somehow, he found himself saying, “Are you sure?” as though he were actually considering buying into this ridiculous offer.

She nodded. “I don’t mind. It’s nice to have friends.”

The words were delivered tentatively. The look in Wanda’s eyes suggested that she wasn’t certain that was exactly what they were and that she almost expected Steve to disagree and confirm that this was not their relationship.

“It is nice,” he admitted.

Her expression immediately brightened, and he knew there was no chance of him not giving into her request without hurting her feelings. Which meant there was no other choice but to nod towards the desk.

“My phone’s right there if you want to put your number into it. Plus you’re welcome to add my number to your phone, just in case. If you need to talk to someone, you could always call me.”

“Thanks,” Wanda murmured, reaching for his phone and playing with the buttons for a few moments before tugging a phone out of her pocket. “What’s your number?”

He rattled it off by rote memory, only half paying attention as he continued to finish sterilizing his equipment and making certain everything had been properly disposed of following his last appointment. He’d barely finished when there was a second knock on the door and Pietro poked his head inside.

“Hey, Wanda. Ready to head out? Darcy’s offered to treat us to coffee and sandwiches over at the shop since Jane’s working tonight.”

Wanda glanced over at Steve, her expression a bit worried, as though she weren’t certain he’d be oaky with this, but he offered her a smile and nodded.

“Yeah, go grab food. Everything’s pretty much good to go here and I’ll be kicking Clint and Kate out momentarily so that I can get a head start on some of my homework.”

He was surprised when Wanda came over and hugged him tightly, although he automatically responded in kind.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, boss,” she said, as she let him go and stepped back to head towards where her brother still stood in the doorway.

“You and Darcy need to stop calling me that,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s Steve. Just Steve.”

“Yes, sir,” she said with a grin. “Have a good night.”

He waved as the two of them headed out before sighing and acknowledging that he’d stalled long enough. He didn’t mean to, he really didn’t, but he couldn’t take the fact that Bucky kept looking at him worriedly, like he was broken or damaged or about to otherwise fall apart. Steve knew that wasn’t entirely fair, given that Bucky of all people understood what it was like for someone to look at you that way, and he knew Bucky didn’t mean to and was just concerned. Somehow though, it just set all of Steve’s nerves on edge and he had already found that it was exhausting to act convincingly as though everything were okay.

He was just straightening everything on his desk when the third knock came and Bucky stepped inside.

“Need any help?” he asked.

Steve shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. Clint and Kate still here?”

“Nope,” Bucky said, running a hand through his hair. “They headed out a couple minutes ago. I think it was Clint’s attempt at making good his escape, although Kate was following right behind.”

“He seems to be good at collecting strays. She might be his newest one.”

“Could be. Anyways, I’d wanted to ask if you wanted me to head up, start dinner while you finish up here and start on your homework.”

“You sure you’re up for that?” Steve asked.

Thankfully, Bucky didn’t seem to take offense to that. “Yeah, I’m sure. Today’s still a good day, I’m feeling fine, and unlike you I don’t have a stack of homework a mile high. How do you feel about tacos?”

“I’m always a slut for tacos,” Steve replied, offering Bucky a smile.

Bucky smirked and then crossed the room so that he could grab Steve by his shirt and tug him into a kiss. Somehow that simultaneously served to make Steve felt guiltier and happier all at once. He knew he was goddamned lucky to have Bucky there and despite all of his fears, he didn’t doubt that Bucky could handle Steve confiding all of his worries and anxieties. Something just kept getting in the way and preventing him from doing it.

Still, as he focused on Bucky’s lips pressed against his own, he found his thoughts shifting more towards the present moment and away from all of those other extraneous thoughts. There was no point on dwelling on that unless he had a plan to make some changes and he couldn’t quite stomach the idea of that yet. For now, he had Bucky here, his mom was stable, and everything was going well. He couldn’t ask for more than that.

-~-

With the beginning of the semester, the coffee shop was more crowded than it had been the last several times Darcy had taken the two of them there, with plenty of students waiting to get their evening caffeine fix. Pietro felt more than saw Wanda flinch as they entered, and he reached for her hand and squeezed reassuringly. It wasn’t as though the two of them hadn’t been out and about over the past few weeks or that this was far out of their comfort zone. Not a whole lot was out of their comfort zone these days, given the number of times they’d gone out to the clubs.

Still though, he could understand his sister’s apprehension. While nothing had happened, they both knew the threat remained and they continued to be vigilant and prepared to run at any sign there was danger in the environment. With more people around them, there was less of a chance either one would stand out but that also meant there were more people who could be potential threats that they might not notice in the midst of everyone else.

“I’ll go snag a table,” Wanda said. “You know what to get me.”

Pietro nodded and kept an eye on her as she headed for one of the tables nearer to the back of the coffee shop. Once he was certain she was safe and secure, he turned his attention back to Darcy. It felt a little strange for him to be standing here with just her. Wanda was only a few feet away and it wasn’t as though Pietro hadn’t spent time alone with Darcy before; they’d had plenty of moments in empty offices and in the bedroom of the townhouse.

Today felt different. Somehow their alone time had been decently limited, or not often purely alone since they were either at Shield, at the townhouse, or out and about with Wanda, and often Jane and Thor. He didn’t know entirely why he seemed to be fixated on this more and more these days. True, he and Darcy had been going out now for a few months and it seemed like this was the time when things could get more serious.

Well, that wasn’t all of it. This had been on his mind ever since Darcy approached him that morning and asked if he might want to spend the night with her. That should have been an exciting thing but it made him worry. For starters, it would be his first time apart from his sister in a long, long time, if ever really. There were so many things that could happen – what if Wanda were found at the townhouse? What if she were taken on the way to Shield the next morning without him there? What if she felt abandoned at the thought of him leaving for the night?

And if he did take up Darcy on her offer, what would happen then? Pietro didn’t know what to do with himself alone in a girl’s apartment. He didn’t know what she’d expect from him and whether he was ready and willing to take that step. Spending a night with someone meant something, he knew that at least, and he recognized that he didn’t know a hell of a lot about relationships overall.

Which was at least a quarter, if not half, of his entire problem. Dating had never been in the cards for him. Even for those few years in boarding school after their adoptive mother’s death, Pietro’s focus hadn’t been on dating or relationships, not when knowing that over breaks and holidays, they would have no choice but to face Talbot again. Despite the fact that his actions suggested Talbot never wanted to see them again – hence shipping them off to boarding school – he also made it very, very clear that he was never going to let them go either. Getting caught up with someone at school, having something messy like a relationship, that wasn’t going to help with anything.

Besides, he hadn’t wanted to do that to Wanda. Even now, knowing that he had her full support to be with Darcy, it was hard not to worry whether she felt abandoned by him. Her spending more time with Steve did help with that. Pietro was glad to see her making friends outside the townhouse but friends weren’t the same as a partner. He still couldn’t quite figure out how to balance his relationship with his sister with his relationship with Darcy, despite the fact that the two types of relationships were completely separate and different. On both sides, he found himself feeling guilty despite the fact that neither Darcy nor Wanda ever gave him any indication that they felt as though they were only getting half of his attention.

Darcy’s fingers brushed against his hand before interlacing with his own and offering a gentle squeeze. He glanced over and managed a smile that didn’t entirely match his emotions.

“You thought more about tonight?” she asked softly, as though she’d just read his mind and see where his thoughts had gone.

“I did,” he hedged.

She was quiet for a moment, giving him the opportunity to say more, yet Pietro remained silent. Once it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything, she followed it up with a few words that made his worries lessen the slightest bit.

“Look, I don’t expect anything to happen. I mean, obviously I would be okay if it did but I don’t have any expectations going into this. I just wanted to have you over, let you see my place, and whatever happens after that point happens. We can throw on Netflix, see what we’re in the mood to watch, and eat junk food. I’d be happy with that. I just… I’d wanted to see you outside of the shop and the townhouse. That hasn’t given us a lot of time to spend together, with just the two of us.”

None of that sounded bad, although Pietro still had a hard time wrapping his mind around the idea of it being “just the two” of them. He’d always come as part of a pair, but that couldn’t come into his relationship. He knew Darcy liked Wanda and having her around but he also was at a place where he needed to make a decision. If he wanted this relationship to work, he either had to find a way to balance his relationship with his sister and his relationship with Darcy, or he’d need to end his relationship with Darcy because that wasn’t fair to her.

Just looking in Darcy’s direction made it absolutely clear to him that ending things wasn’t the course of action he wanted to take. Granted, he didn’t have any experience in relationships but he liked her, he liked her a lot, and he wanted to see how things would develop if he let them continue. She made him laugh and she had an energy and spirit he admired.

“Plus, if you’re worried about your sister, we can walk her to the townhouse first before we head over to my apartment,” Darcy added.

With that, Pietro found the last of his valid concerns falling away. If he could see Wanda safely home, that would be one less thing to worry about, and Darcy had already taken the pressure off by telling him that she didn’t expect anything from the two of them spending the night together. Before he could consider what he was doing, he found himself nodding his agreement.

“That sounds good. Yes. I’d like that. All of that.”

Darcy’s face lit up immediately, as though she hadn’t expected him to say that, and maybe she hadn’t given his overall hesitation.

“Yeah?” she asked, and then didn’t give him a chance to respond since her fingers were hooked into the collar of his shirt and she was pulling him down into a kiss.

It was as Pietro straightened up that his gaze fell on Wanda and his blood went cold in his veins. He must have said something to Darcy, maybe even asked her to order something for him and his sister, but he wasn’t even aware of it. All he could focus on was where Wanda sat at the table, the two men standing beside her, and getting to her as soon as possible

He recognized one of them; he was the same man he’d seen hitting on his sister on New Year’s Eve. They’d seen him a few more times at the clubs and there had been a few more exchanges between him and Wanda. While Pietro had been concerned about that, he hadn’t been particularly worried. After all, it made sense that someone who spent time at the clubs would be seen multiple times and that there would be some recognition. Maybe he was being paranoid, given that DC wasn’t a huge city, but this man just happening to find his sister while they were here at a small coffee shop sent up a flag of alarm.

All of which led to him practically shoving his way over to the table, and bluntly asking, “Can I help you?”

Both of the men and Wanda looked up in response to that, Wanda looking a bit irritated, though Pietro couldn’t gauge whether that was with him or already present from her conversation with the two men.

“This is my brother Peter,” she said, shooting Pietro a look that made it clear her irritation was reserved for him and him alone. “Peter, this is Ryan, who you may remember from the club, and his cousin Murphy, who’s visiting from Boston.”

Ryan offered Pietro his hand and when he didn’t immediately take it, he was rewarded by a light nudge from Wanda. Grudgingly, he accepted the offered hand and shook it.

Even more grudgingly, he said, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Ryan said easily, with no sign of discomfort despite Pietro’s obvious hesitation.

“Interesting how we keep running into each other,” Pietro said, before he could stop himself, and Wanda gave him another look in response to that.

“But not entirely a surprise,” Ryan said with a smile in Wanda’s direction that Pietro most decidedly did not like. “Everyone knows this is the best place to get coffee in the city. We figured we’d stop here to get our caffeine fix before heading out to the clubs this evening. Any chance we’ll see you there?”

“Not tonight,” Pietro said quickly. “We have things to do at home.”

“Homework,” Wanda added. “Lots and lots of homework.”

“You’re students?” Murphy asked and even though his tone was innocent enough, something seemed off to Pietro.

“At G.W.,” he said, the lie falling easily from his tongue.

He couldn’t see any harm in lying about that. After all, with the hundreds upon hundreds of students enrolled in classes, it wasn’t as though the lie could be discovered when the two men only had the twins’ first names and the fake ones they were using were common enough. Even if they’d somehow gotten ahold of their fake last names, Pietro had to imagine there might be an Anna or Peter Smith enrolled in some sort of class at the university.

Murphy and Ryan shot each other an undecipherable look but Ryan only said, “I can definitely understand how clubbing is out when you have homework to finish. Hopefully we’ll see you out and about again before Murphy heads home next week.”

“We’ll see,” Pietro said firmly.

“Hopefully we will,” Wanda said, a bit more gently than her brother had spoken. “Enjoy your visit to DC, Murphy.”

“I have no doubt I will,” he said. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Anna. I’ve heard a lot about you from my cousin.”

Before Pietro could follow that up with a snarl questioning exactly what Ryan had been saying about his sister, Ryan glanced over at the growing line at the counter and said, “We should probably see about hopping into that before it stretches out the door. See you around, Anna. You too, Peter.”

Pietro didn’t relax as the two men walked away. He could see Darcy shooting him a bit of a worried look, though that was cut off quickly by her finally reaching the counter and being distracted by Jane, and Pietro was more focused on Wanda anyways. He slid into the chair beside her and reached for her hand, not saying anything until he was certain he could manage to restrict his words to things that wouldn’t be suspicious or problematic.

“Did he say anything?” he finally said, because that seemed to be a reasonably appropriate thing to ask.

“No, he just said hello and introduced me to his cousin. Honestly, I think you’re being a little too paranoid, Peter. He seems like an okay guy.”

“You don’t think it’s strange that he just showed up here?”

“I think a lot of people come here to get coffee. Look at how long the line is now.” She squeezed his hand. “Relax. We’re alright.”

But nothing felt that way. He fought the urge to just cancel his plans with Darcy so that he could keep an eye on his sister. That would probably be the right thing to do but everyone could end up angry with him if he did that. Besides, he and Darcy had agreed to walk Wanda home and she’d have Clint with her in the morning so the chance of something happening wasn’t any greater than it would have been if Pietro stayed with her.

Still, he vowed to himself to keep an eye out for any further signs of Ryan or Murphy in places where they weren’t used to seeing them. The one thing Pietro had learned over the years was that there was no such thing as too paranoid.

-~-

Clint didn’t entirely know what to do with himself. He’d finally managed to shake Kate at the metro station – and offered a parting quip to ask where her family limo was and been flipped off for his efforts. Now he was back to wandering back to the townhouse on his own. He’d grown a bit more used to it over the past several weeks, once the twins started going out with Darcy after work, but it still felt strange to not have them walking beside him.

He almost found himself wishing that Kate had continued on with him during the walk. It wasn’t that she was a bad kid, despite how much he acted as though her presence grated on his nerves. It was mostly that he was still a little bitter with Detective Coulson for putting him on community service for those couple of weekends. True, it was his own fault for deciding that smoking a joint – or two or three if he were to be honest with how much he’d smoked over the series of days – after physical therapy for his arm and ankle was a good method of pain management.

He hadn’t expected Detective Coulson to give him a drug test, despite the fact that he’d been given several when he first started working undercover because of his tendency to push the limits and boundaries of what Detective Coulson was willing for him to do. He’d pointed out that on a few of those occasions he’d needed to do that sort of thing for the purpose of remaining undercover – refusing to smoke or snort something was just asking to be called out as a narc – but he’d also done it enough while not doing it for purposes of remaining undercover to raise Detective Coulson’s suspicions.

Smoking right before one of their meetings had probably been a poor life decision and Clint acknowledged that. He just hadn’t expected Detective Coulson to punish him with community service at a farm of all places. True, the fact that he’d gotten busted only served to bolster his credibility with some of the shadier elements of the city but it had also led to him getting paired up with the one juvenile in the little group of delinquents. He knew that it was because Detective Coulson trusted him and was probably moderately concerned about the daughter of one of the richest families in the city being in the middle of nowhere with limited supervision and the criminal element. It also meant that he’d somehow found himself a permanent shadow.

Clint still didn’t know exactly what Kate had done to end up there. She was pretty close-lipped about it, but as the day had continued, she’d talked his ear off on a variety of other topics, something that he’d been grateful for. Of all the community service opportunities out there, being on a farm was the last one Clint wanted to experience. The smell of hay and manure alone brought back way too many memories that he’d preferred to stay buried. So having Kate beside him, chatting to him about fuck knows what all day had been a welcome distraction.

She’d been the one to bring up archery, while they were out checking one of the fence-lines and just so happened to stumble upon a few targets set up. A short search later and they’d come up with bows and arrows. Clint hadn’t been able to help himself. While Kate chatted to him about her experiences at summer camp and the ribbons she’d won in archery competitions, he’d nocked an arrow and almost immediately everything else faded away. His breathing and the target were the only two things he’d focused on. Minutes went by before he registered that the target was filled with arrows, the healed hole in his left arm was aching the slightest bit from the weight of the bow, and Kate was standing beside him, her mouth hanging open.

He’d muttered a few words about learning how to do it when he was a kid growing up on a farm, despite the fact that that was not even remotely close to the actual story, and she’d begged and pleaded with him to give her some tips. Somehow he’d found himself spending the next hour giving Kate an archery lesson that she’d thanked him for profusely. Each weekend they’d ended up back there, they’d managed to sneak away for a while to practice again. Since that point he hadn’t been able to shake her.

Today was the first day she’d shown up at the shop though. Clint didn’t entirely mind, despite his protests, because she wasn’t bad to have along. Plus, he got the sense things weren’t exactly great for her at home. Still, her constant questions did become tiring at some point, especially the more she asked him if he would be willing to continue teaching her and he kept pointing out that he didn’t have a place to train her.

Which was an outright lie. He still had his gear and he could easily find a place for the two of them to practice. While Kate didn’t seem to be going away anytime soon, Clint knew he needed to keep her at a distance. Especially with everything else going on. He had his ear to the ground and the word on the street as far as he could read it suggested that the entire city remained a ticking time bomb. There were too many branches of different mobs within the city limits and they had all been there for too long. Old tensions were starting arise and new ones were developing.

Something was going to explode. It was only a matter of time.

Still, Clint was almost whistling as he approached the townhouse. It was nearly the weekend, which meant two days free of classes even though he planned to pick up a couple of shifts at Shield during that time. He’d finally completed everything for the courses he’d taken incompletes on the previous semester and he was almost caught up with the homework for the courses he was currently taking. Sure, at some point some sort of shit was going to go down but that wasn’t now. He was damn well determined to enjoy things while he could.

His first sign that his good mood might be fading came as he was fitting his key into the lock. Before he could attempt to turn the key, the door opened, nearly yanking his hand along with it. The keys were yanked from his grasp and clattered to the floor inside.

The second sign came as his gaze fell on the person who’d opened the door. Natasha’s expression was closed off but the look in her eyes pretty much screamed murder, to the point where Clint almost took a step back and half-considered whether it would be worth it to run. He tried to think back onto the events of the past few days, especially the last 24 hours, to see if there was anything he might have done to make her look at him in this way. Nothing came to mind, but obviously something had made her angry.

“Uh, hi,” he said, hoping that might lead to some sort of clue as to what was going on.

“Hello, Clint,” she said coldly. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

He wracked his brain for an answer but nothing was immediately coming. He’d told her about the whole pot smoking thing and gotten a second lecture from her while his ears were still ringing from the sermon about responsibility Detective Coulson had already given him.

“Uh, no?” he tried, to see if that would work.

“Really.” She drew out the word for longer than he would have thought possible. “Nothing at all?”

Clint shook his head. “Nothing.”

She sighed heavily, almost dramatically, and then stepped back. “Then you should come inside. It seems we have a visitor.”

A horrible idea took shape inside his mind. That was the third sign that something was very, very wrong. If they had a visitor and Natasha was asking him if there were something he’d meant to tell her… that left only one option.

She confirmed it. “It’s your brother. Barney.”

All Clint could manage in response to that was far too much of a confession for his role in this mess.

“Oh shit.”