Bucky Barnes...or is it?
“You have to understand, Rogers, he’s been brainwashed for years. He won’t just pop out of this immediately. He is usually lucid, but there are times that he does slip back into that mindset, and he can be dangerous.” Fury is talking to Steve who had immediately confronted him, asking question after question about his best friend who, somehow, miraculously, is alive.
“I don’t care, Director, I want him with me. What better place than the Tower? Of course, the final decision is up to Tony, but the security there is much better than anywhere else. Including wherever you’re keeping him now.”
Fury sighs, shaking his head, but bowing to Steve’s insistence. “Fine, but I will not make Stark house him.” It is at that moment that the two of them look over at Tony who shrinks a bit under the sudden attention. He quickly sits back up, clearing his throat, and answering.
“I don’t see why not. Rogers is correct, my security is top-notch. We have rooms designed to hold Rogers and the Hulk. We’ll make a safety plan in case Barnes loses control. It’ll be fine.” Internally there is a tiny voice screaming at him, demanding to know why he’s putting himself in this situation. Two super soldiers in his house, one of which is a brainwashed murderer? What the hell was he thinking? Before he could take it back, however, Fury nods and the conversation moves on to Hydra and the activity that SHIELD has been picking up from them.
A few hours later they left HQ, well most of them left HQ. Steve stayed behind to go see Bucky in hopes he could acclimate him a bit before bringing him to the tower. Tony didn’t understand the strange feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach, eating at him like acid. If he didn’t know better he’d call it jealousy. But that didn’t make sense.
Sure, Tony and Steve have gotten close over the last several months. Steve loved bringing his easel and paints down to Tony’s lab to keep him company. He very frequently would bring Tony something from his favorite bakery because it was on the path that Steve frequently jogged in the morning. He always would encourage him to come join dinner and if he wouldn’t he would insist on bringing his own portion downstairs and eating with him. On more than one occasion he helped Tony back to his floor and would sit outside his bedroom door when he was having a bad night of nightmares. But that was just them being friends. It meant nothing more.
So why does he feel so upset? Why does he feel the urge to run to his nursery and spend the rest of the night moping in his headspace? Tony shakes his head, focusing on shoving the fruits that he’d picked out for smoothies into his blender. It didn’t matter. Steve was going to bring back Barnes and the two were going to go right back to being best friends and Tony should be happy for them. Their friendship was something of legends and the last thing Tony wanted to do was let his strange jealousy ruin that.
He went down to his lab and busied himself with working on the latest phone model he’d come up with, tweaking some things in hopes that the glitches he’d been experiencing would go away. Black Sabbath played in the background, filling Tony’s brain with its noise and washing away the rest of his thoughts. He lost himself entirely in his work, bouncing between tasks, barely noticing the hours ticking by.
He jerks, startled, when a hand suddenly appears in his vision, gently taking the screwdriver he had in his hand. His eyes follow the hand and shift up to focus on the face of the individual beside him. Bruce’s face slowly comes into view and Tony gives a small, almost shy smile.
“Hey, Brucie,” he says, the nickname slipping out without much thought, though Bruce doesn’t seem to be bothered by it. In fact, a small smile crosses his face as he responds.
“Hey, bud, you really should come up and get something to eat. I made chili.” his voice is soft and gentle, the same one that Tony has heard him use around Clint when the archer was little.
Tony’s heart skips a beat at both the endearment and the tone of voice. He forces it into one of playful annoyance, nudging Bruce gently. “Don’t baby me, Banner, I’m not a little.” There is a moment where Bruce studies him, a strange expression on his face before he suddenly asks “Are you sure?”
Tony’s heart nearly stops this time as he looks at Bruce, terror building in his chest… “Y-yes, of course. I’m a dom, remember?” There are another few moments of silence before Bruce simply nods, smiling at him. “Of course, just forget I said anything. Now come on, you really should eat something. Don’t make me send Clint down here. He’s little and has a mean set of puppy dog eyes.” the threat is teasing but it’s all that Tony needs to stand up, following the other man out of his lab. The last thing he needed was for something like that to trigger his own headspace more than it was. Already he feels a bit more unsteady on his feet and the idea of having to eat chili without any of it ending up on him seemed like a daunting task.
Tony trailed dutifully after Bruce, resisting the urge to grab onto the caregiver’s hand. They step onto the common floor and find everyone already waiting for them at the table. Tony is quick to notice the new guest and he almost turns back around. Bruce seemed to notice his hesitation and grabbed onto his arm, tugging him over to the table and into the seat next to him.
“Yay, we can eat!” Clint cheers, digging into his food and Natasha rolls her eyes at the boisterous little, reaching out to quickly tuck a napkin into his shirt to catch at least some of the mess.
“Slowly, маленькаяптица, I don’t want you to choke,” she murmurs, and fortunately Clint obligingly slows down.
Tony picks at his own food, keeping his eyes down as he tries to carefully scoop bites into his mouth without spilling. He can feel Bruce’s eyes on him and when he sneaks a peek he finds the scientist studying with that same strange expression. He tries his best to ignore it, focusing on eating enough food that the others would accept that he’d eaten enough. He’s distracted again when another set of eyes land on him and he looks up freezing as his eyes are met by stunning grey ones across the table.
Barnes surveys him quietly from his seat, looking as if he wants to say something. There is something…intense about his gaze. Like he’s looking right into Tony’s soul, reading all of his secrets there. The little quickly looks away, hoping that the soldier will stop soon. Within a few moments, he does, and Tony relaxes, continuing to carefully spoon chili into his mouth. When he gets about three-quarters of the way through the bowl, he stops, glancing over at Bruce instinctively for approval.
Bruce looks down at the bowl and nods, and suddenly Tony’s chest is filled with pride. He quickly schools his expression, not wanting anyone to see how much Bruce’s approval excited him, grabbing his bowl and taking it to the sink. He busies himself with washing it, taking an unnecessary amount of time scrubbing the glass before he finally rinses it off and places it in the dishwasher. He then returns to the table, keeping his gaze averted from Barnes who watches him carefully, his brows furrowing as if he’s noticing something unusual about Tony.
Just then Steve seems to notice Barnes’ interest in Tony which prompts him to look over at the genius. “So Tony, I wanted to thank you for letting Bucky stay here. I’m sure Buck is also grateful. Right?” he turns and looks at Barnes who nods.
“Yes, thank you, Mr. Stark. I truly appreciate it.”
“You can call me Tony, and it’s no problem, honestly. If you need anything at all you can ask JARVIS or you can come find me.” The offer slips out of his mouth before he can stop it but the way that Barnes smiles, tentative and warm, sends a thrill down Tony’s spine. He is strangely happy that he made Barnes happy.
“Thank you. You can, uh, you can call me Bucky if you want. Or James.”
Tony can’t help the smile that slips onto his face as he nods. Suddenly he wonders what Bar-Bucky’s classification is, and he barely stops himself from asking. He mentally smacks himself for even thinking that he could just ask that. Many individuals, especially ones from Bucky and Steve’s time are incredibly private about their classification.
“Tonyyyy,” Clint suddenly whines and the billionaire looks over at the dropped little, tilting his head a bit. “Didya finish the new phone?” Tony smiles, mentally thanking the toddler for picking up on the lull in the conversation. He quickly delves into discussing the work that he did that day, including the new phone he was designing, and everyone listened intently to his rambling, something that made warmth grow in his chest. Obi never seemed interested when he rambled, in fact, he always seemed annoyed. It was nice to have people that actually cared about what he wanted to say.
The next few hours went smoothly. After dinner was cleaned up, Clint demanded that they watch a movie. He ended up picking out Cars and Tony curled himself into one of the chairs, trying to mask the fact that he was entranced by the movie. Bruce at some point made everyone popcorn. Toward the end of Cars, Clint passed out, prompting Natasha to pick out another movie. She threw on some sort of action movie that Tony didn’t recognize.
He didn’t realize he was starting to drop until something violent happened on screen and he barely stopped himself from screaming and bursting into tears. His breathing picks up and he tries to calm himself discreetly, wondering if he could get away with leaving now. If they would question him. Suddenly he felt eyes on him and he discreetly looked over, surprised to find that it was Bucky again. Except…his eyes look different. More intense, colder, and almost dominant.
The two of them stared at each other for a few moments, before Bucky started breathing slowly and deeply in an exaggerated manner. Everyone else was engrossed in the movie so they didn’t notice the way that Tony started following along, his heartbeat and breathing returning to normal rhythms. The genius relaxes and returns his gaze to Bucky’s. The man’s expression softened minutely and a small smile quirked at his lips.
Tony got the distinct feeling that he wasn’t staring at Bucky. His mind flickers back to Fury warning them just how dangerous Bucky could be when he loses himself to the brainwashed soldier that he’d been turned into by Hydra. The Winter Soldier is what Fury said they called him.
Tony knows he should say something. Point it out. Warn everyone. But he doesn’t. Instead, he watches as the man discreetly looks around, making sure everyone is paying attention to the movie before lifting his hands just barely into Tony’s line of vision and signing slowly.
Good job.
Tony blushes and suddenly the other man’s expression shifts, softening back into what it was at dinner. Bucky looks around, seeming disoriented and Tony frowns, mind whirling with possibilities. It’s obvious that there was some sort of fracture in Barnes’ personality, and he wondered just how far that went. Their eyes meet again, and Bucky smiles, looking back at the screen.
Tony spends the rest of the evening picking apart each theory he had. He has a niggling urge to ask Bucky to allow him to study him. He already had the prosthetic arm that Tony wanted to get his hands on, this was just another incentive to get him into his lab. Tony doesn’t have as much medical knowledge as some other people, like Bruce for example, but he most definitely has some knowledge. He wonders if he could hoop Bruce into the matter without alerting the man that something was off with Barnes.
He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t realize the movie has ended until Steve gently places a hand on his knee, looking down at him with concern. “Tony you alright? You got lost in your head there…”
Tony jerks, looking around, slowly processing Steve’s question. Once he does, he nods, waving the super soldier off. “Yeah, Capsicle, I’m fine, just trying to decide what I’m going to work on.”
“You’re not working on anything,” he says, that familiar stern tone entering his voice. “You need sleep and I will make sure you get it even if I have to carry you to your bedroom and hold you down in your bed.” Tony sighs, holding up his hands in defeat. He puts a pin in his train of thought, promising himself he’d come back to it tomorrow.
“Alright, alright. I’ll go,” he says, and Steve backs off, watching as Tony gets up and moves over to the elevator, stepping on.
“JARVIS, make sure he actually goes to bed please,” Steve says, and Tony huffs, glaring at him.
“Yes, Captain Rogers, I will ensure that Sir goes to sleep,” JARVIS says, and Tony huffs again as the doors close, leaning against the wall with a pout firmly on his face.
“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he whines at JARVIS, starting to drop pretty rapidly.
“Young Sir, I am supposed to make sure you’re safe. That is my priority. I deeply apologize that I don’t bend to your every whim just because you think I should.” Tony sighs, kicking at the wall in frustration. He didn’t want to go to bed. “Don’t fuss, Young Sir, it seems that Miss. Potts has left you a gift in your nursery.”
Tony perks up almost immediately, his head tilting in curiosity. He wonders what it could be as he makes his way down the hallway, starting to feel more and more shaky on his feet. He finally reaches his nursery, and the door unlocks without him having to do anything. He steps inside and sure enough, there is a wrapped present sitting on the side table next to the rocking chair in the corner. He toddles over and grabs it, plopping on the ground and placing it in front of him.
He hesitates for a moment, hands hovering over the box. The nasty voice in his brain speaks up, berating him for dropping and being so excited over a gift that was probably meant for babies. He inhales sharply, moving to shove the box away but before he can do so, JARVIS’ speaks up, voice gentle.
“Aren’t you going to open your present, Young Sir? Miss. Potts brought it for you personally. I watched her wrap it.”
Tony nods, shoving the nasty voice that sounds too much like Obi away firmly and tearing the first strip of paper off of the box. He continues like this, stripping away each piece, giggling quietly at the sound it makes before he looks down at the box. He opens it and gasps. Inside is a brown bear, a new pacifier, and a set of foam blocks. He pulls out the bear, hugging it close, burrowing his face into the softness.
“Do you like your gift, Young Sir?” JARVIS asks and Tony nods, tucking the bear under his arm and plucking the pacifier out of the box, placing it in his mouth. He then pulls the blocks out, losing himself in building a tower. “Good, I’ll inform Miss. Potts.”
Tony spends the next hour playing and it’s just past that hour mark that he starts getting tired. He puts away the blocks and slowly makes his way towards the door, glancing back at the crib situated against the wall directly across from the door. He’d never actually used his crib and for a moment he considered allowing himself. He takes a few steps towards it but stops when that nasty voice comes back, demanding he turn around. He lets out a shuddery breath and obeys, leaving the room and closing the door firmly behind him.
In his bedroom he puts on a pair of his absorbent underwear, stubbornly insisting to JARVIS that he would be fine without a diaper. He quickly changes into more comfy clothes and collapses on his bed. He lies there for a moment, his fuzzy brain whirling with thoughts about the events of today alongside the urges he usually gets when he’s little. He momentarily wishes that he had an actual Caregiver besides JARVIS. The AI was good at watching him and making sure he didn’t get into trouble, but he couldn’t replace an actual caregiver who could carry Tony around and coddle him. Someone to dress him up for bed and tuck him in.
Tony sighs quietly, turning over on his stomach and forcing his eyes shut. He tosses and turns for a while, unable to keep the longing thoughts from slipping into his brain. He finally succumbs to frustrated tears, sobbing his heart out until he exhausted himself, finally slipping into sleep.
——————
The next few weeks go by smoothly. Bucky settles in easily, falling into the same routine that Steve is on. Tony finds himself going out of his way to attend dinners and movie nights just so he can have some more time to be close to Bucky. He told himself it was because he was curious about him and the Winter Soldier. It seems that something keeps triggering the Soldier. It’s gotten to the point that even others on the team are noticing. Nothing ever happens, usually, the Soldier just stands there, staring at them -usually Tony- until suddenly Bucky is back.
It was driving Bucky up a wall that he couldn’t control it and Steve was getting progressively more worried about his friend. Bucky started attending more therapy sessions, which meant less time for Tony to sneak around, studying him. It didn’t matter though because Tony got his chance to see things up close and personal a little over a month after Bucky’s arrival.
He woke up that morning soaking wet, his clothes sticking uncomfortably to his skin. He curses, jumping out of bed and angrily ripping the sheets off of it and throwing them in the corner to be dealt with after his shower. He berates himself internally as he gets the shower started, stepping into the spray and yelping as it scalds him. He quickly turned it down, looking at the arm it caught and wincing when he saw blisters already starting to form. Great. Now he had a blistered arm to explain away.
He washes himself quickly, stepping out of the shower and wrapping himself in towels. He sits on the ground for a moment, just moping about his terrible start to the day. He still felt a bit fuzzy and he was certain the sensation would last throughout the day. It wasn’t enough to justify calling off his work, but it was enough that it was going to be an annoyance throughout the day. Tony hated floating between headspaces.
He finally stands up, drying off quickly and stepping back into his bedroom. He locates some comfortable clothes, grabs his sheets, and heads into his personal laundry room. It was something he’d decided to include on all the floors because it was just convenient to have. It also prevented nosy workers from gossiping about the urine-soaked sheets that came from his room.
Once he had the sheets running he stepped back into his bedroom and placed a fresh set on, sighing in relief once it was done, the evidence of his… predicament this morning entirely erased.
He stops by the common floor on the way to the lab, knowing that the team would be more likely to leave him alone if they saw him grab something to eat for breakfast. While he’s waiting for coffee to brew he snacks on a container of yogurt, leaning against the counter.
He looks up as he hears two voices drifting down the hallway and he is shocked to find Natasha and Bucky walking down the hallway, Steve and Clint each being carried. It didn’t take much for Tony to put two and two together and realize that Steve was little. The blonde-haired toddler looked his way, his face lightening up.
“‘ony!” he cries behind his pacifier and Tony can’t help but smile and wave at the adorable little.
“Hey bud,” he says, grabbing the pot of coffee and pouring himself a cup when the device beeps. “Hey Bucky, Natasha.” he greets the two adults who both smile at him in return, accepting the cups of coffee he hands them. His eyes trail to Bucky’s arms and he decides to go ahead and take his chance.
“Would you mind if I looked at your arm? I’m an engineer so I thought that maybe I could make you something better. It looks pretty uncomfortable as it is.” the words rush out of him and Bucky looks surprised, but not uncomfortable.
“Uh, sure, I’d appreciate it,” he says and Tony nods jerkily.
“Uh…just come down to my lab whenever and I’ll take a look at it,” the genius says before he quickly ruffles Clint’s hair, boops Steve on the nose, and escapes to the elevator, inserting the key for his lab. He sighs, leaning his head against the wall. Seeing Steve and Clint little only made his fuzziness worse. He groans, holding his head, wishing desperately that he could make it go away. That his body would just pick a headspace. Being stuck in between was like Tony’s personal hell. It clouded his mind more than it did when he was little.
He reaches his lab and throws himself into work, hoping that doing so will clear his head. It worked to some extent and Tony actually managed to get some good work done. It’s about lunchtime when there is a knock at his door, JARVIS opens it right after. He turns around and is surprised to find Bucky standing there, a plate of food in his hand.
“Uhm, Bruce sent me with this. And if you have time, I have time for you to look at my arm.” the man says, cautiously approaching Tony and holding out the plate.
“Oh, thanks. And sure, I was about to take a break anyway. Go sit in that chair over there.” He points to a chair settled next to one of his work tables and Bucky obliges, crossing over and seating himself.
Tony grabs a few items and then comes over, placing the plate of food and tools down on the table. He takes a few bites off of the plate, groaning in delight. Bruce really was a good cook. Today was the best lasagna that Tony had ever tasted.
“Right, this shouldn’t hurt, but let me know if it does,” Tony says, seating himself in another chair, scooting closer to the edge of Bucky’s, and positioning his arm so that he could easily access everything.
He opens it up and curses, looking at the mess of wires and parts. “This looks like a fucking kindergartener made it. Damn. Alright, this may take a little while, so let me know if you need a break.”
Tony spends the next hour or so picking at the arm, figuring out how it fits together and works. He can definitely make something better but it was going to take time. He hums quietly alongside the music playing in the background, tongue sticking out of his mouth as he focuses. He’s so caught up in what he’s doing that he almost misses Bucky speaking.
“Ты так мило выглядишь.”
Tony looks up sharply, staring at Bucky. “What?” he asks, tilting his head. Did he just speak Russian to him? Tony frowns, he had always assumed that Bucky was American like Steve was. The man chuckles, and the sound sends chills down his back. He looks up at Bucky’s face and his blood runs cold when he sees that sharp gaze from last night peering back at him.
“Nothing, малиш,” the man says, voice silky smooth and Tony can’t help the shudder that runs through him. Though it’s not one of fear or even arousal. Tony finds himself slipping further into his headspace the more that Barnes talks.
“Are you separate from Bucky?” He blurts the question out without much thought and the man pauses, studying him intently. He quickly screws the arm back together, not wanting something to happen should anything upset the Solder.
“Yes.”
“Why do you keep…” he trails off not sure how to phrase the next sentence. “Why do you keep getting triggered?”
The Soldier smiles a sharp smile, leaning forward until their faces are inches apart. “Because of you, little one.” And suddenly Bucky is back, blinking rapidly and looking around. He inhales sharply, looking over at Tony, quickly checking him over. His hands are so gentle with the little that he has to stop himself from leaning into the touch.
“I’m so sorry, he didn’t hurt you did he?” Bucky asks, almost frantically and Tony shakes his head.
“No, Bucky, I’m fine. I promise.” Tony mumbles and he’s shocked when Bucky suddenly exhales shakily tears starting to stream down his face.
“I’m sorry I can’t control him,” he gasps out, “I never wanted to leave him alone with anyone. Especially you.” Tony frowns, going to say something but the other man interrupts him. “I’m sorry, I should go. I’m…I’m so sorry.” he gives Tony a small, broken smile, and before Tony can say anything he stands and rushes from the lab, leaving the little staring after him, utterly confused.