It's been ages since Bucky's been mugged. In fact, he honestly can't remember ever being mugged. If he really thinks about it, the last time someone tried, he was 19, back in Brooklyn, and Steve was with him, so Bucky had hauled off and punched the guy coming after them. He had to keep Steve safe, after all.
Now, with some guy's arm around his chest from behind and a knife to his neck, Bucky's pretty sure this guy is whacked out of his mind. He's half Bucky's size and trying to take him on for a wallet. This guy is desperate, and it actually makes Bucky a little sad. What's happened in this guy's life to lead him down this path? Why has he come this far? Bucky would ask, try to reason it out with him, but he's pretty sure it would just end with the knife somewhere Bucky doesn't want it to be.
He sighs, listening to the heavy thundering of the man's heart, and he feels for him. This guy is going through a panic and possibly withdrawals. He can feel the sweat drenched through his sleeve, the heat piercing his skin, the way he seems to vibrate with fear and anxiety and something desperate.
"Pal, I got 20 on me," Bucky says softly, and he can feel the knife press tighter against his throat. "It's yours, but you might wanna think about what you're doing."
"Just gimme the wallet, asshole," the guy growls. "I'm not in the mood for your Mister Rogers schtick."
Bucky shifts. He hasn't put his hands up yet, so the guy can't see when he pulls the glove off his left hand before dipping it into his pocket. He holds his wallet up, making sure the metal of his hand is visible. He feels the guy shift behind him, the knife slip away a bit.
"Fuck," the guy behind him breathes. "You're the goddamn Winter Soldier."
Bucky tries not to wince at the title, but turns as the man behind him steps back in fear. He sighs, opening up his wallet and pulling out the 20 he has, holding it out toward the man. "Take it, man," he murmurs. "Maybe get a meal at a place nearby and get outta the cold for a couple hours. Get your head on straight. You never know who you're actually tryin' to rob out here."
The man looks terrified as he reaches for the money cautiously. He snatches it, but Bucky does nothing but let him take it. He's not in the mood to fight this guy. Instead, he holds out his hand once the money is gone.
"Why don't you give me the knife and you go find a better way to get what you need, man?"
And Bucky doesn't expect it to work, but the guy stares at Bucky's fingers, the Vibranium glittering in the lights of the night. He steps forward carefully and sets the knife flat in Bucky's palm, then backs up quickly. Bucky closes his hand around the knife and lowers his arm with a sigh. He nods at the man and watches as he bolts off.
"Wow, pretty diplomatic of you," comes a voice from somewhere above. Bucky looks up to see a person crouched on a nearby roof. They seem to tilt their head, then they decide to stand and drop down to stand next to Bucky in the alley. They're a little shorter than him, definitely slighter build. They're wearing a red and blue suit with webbing decoration, as though a spider had its way with the suit.
"I try not to fight anymore unless I really have to," Bucky hums, studying the other. There's something strangely familiar about them, but he waits to hear that voice again.
"I saw him grab you and I was gonna help, but you had it under control," they say, shrugging. The way they move is loose and athletic. Bucky imagines they climb and do a lot of running around. "You're Sergeant Bucky Barnes, huh?"
Bucky raises an eyebrow, tilting his head at the sound of their voice. There's something there he knows, and he wants to laugh, but he feels like he might make them feel bad if he did. "You caught me," he says, "but I go by Bucky. Just Bucky."
"Cool," the person nearly squeaks and strikes a pose. "I'm Spider-Man."
Bucky can't hold back the smile and he nods. "So this is the job that keeps you so busy, huh kid?"
He watches as Spider-Man's eyes go wide, and whoa that's cool tech that his mask can do that, and then the kid laughs and shakes his head. "Don't out me," he says through a giggle. "But yeah. Just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man."
"I thought you were the friendly neighborhood cat finder?" Bucky grins.
Spider-Man laughs again and nods, pointing at him. "That too, yeah. You weren't supposed to figure me out, though."
Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Kid, you gotta change your voice up if you want to stay hidden behind that mask. I mean, we've been hanging out for a few months now, yeah? Kind of hard not to recognize your voice."
Spider-Man hums and nods again. "Makes sense. No, you're right." He glances around, then tilts his head. A moment later, Bucky can hear a cry of distress from a ways off with his own advanced hearing. "I've gotta go," Spider-Man says. "Catch you later, Bucky?"
"Swing by," Bucky teases, watching as the kid shoots a string of strong webbing from somewhere around his wrist and goes zipping off into the distance. He waits a few moments, then turns and heads toward home, turning the knife in his hand a few times before putting it in a side pocket of his pants and finishing his walk.
—
"You're bleeding!" Sam is in his space immediately, warm fingers pressing against Bucky's neck where the knife managed to break skin. "What the hell happened? I can't trust you to be safe on a walk?" The last is said in a teasing tone as he rests his palm over the spot on Bucky's neck, smiling softly at him. "But in all seriousness, are you okay, baby?"
Bucky smiles softly and reaches up, taking hold of Sam's hand. "It'll heal quick," he hums. "Guy thought he could rob me. I gave him 20. I don't know what he'll end up using it for, but I got a knife outta the deal." He reaches into his pocket and holds up the knife for Sam to see. "It's actually kind of nice, considering the state of the guy. Good weight, well-balanced, maintained. And look at the handle."
He holds the knife out to Sam, smiling brightly when Sam takes it and turns it over in his hands. "Does it have a dragon carved into it?" Sam asks softly.
"Yeah," Bucky says, his grin getting wider. "I almost feel bad for takin' it off him, but at least he won't be hurtin' anyone else with it."
Sam shakes his head and laughs, handing the knife back over. "It blows me away how much you like knives still," he murmurs. "Not to bring up bad shit, but- I mean, wasn't that your main weapon?"
"I used knives before Hydra," Bucky says, heading to the kitchen and turning on the water. He sets to gently cleaning the knife, grimacing at the grime on the blade alongside his own blood. Maybe he ought to clean his wound.
Sam proves to be his better half once again, sharing the brain, when he steps up behind Bucky and starts gently cleaning the wound at Bucky's neck, his chest pressed against Bucky's back. "Did you? Was that just a passion of yours, or was it your preferred weapon during the war?"
"My pa had a small collection of knives," Bucky admits, leaning back against Sam with a sigh. "When he passed, I was pretty young. I kept a couple of them, but they're long gone by now. Can't exactly keep hold of shit when you're being held captive by Hydra for decades and all your worldly possessions have probably been melted down or sold."
Sam's touch halts for a second and he takes a slow breath in. Bucky can feel his heartbeat pick up through his back and there's something mildly comforting in that, just being able to feel Sam. Sam shifts and presses his lips against the back of Bucky's neck, sighing against his skin.
"Do you want to try to find knives that might be similar?" Sam asks after a moment. "I know it won't be the same, but maybe you can have a bit of memory there. There's places around that sell old World War II memorabilia. They might have something like your old knives."
Bucky tenses slightly. "A lot of those stores also sell fuckin' Nazi armbands, doll."
Sam hums. "No, you're right. Maybe we don't go to those ones in particular. I know a few that are on the up and up, though."
"We could look," Bucky says with a shrug. "We don't have to, though-"
His words are cut off by Alpine meowing loudly and scratching at the bedroom window. It's unnatural behavior for her and Sam and Bucky both go into the room to check on her. She's up on her back paws on the windowsill and pawing roughly at the glass, her claws scraping with a painful squealing sound. Bucky puts his left hand to his ear and moves to the cat, reaching out with his right hand to try and scoop her up.
Alpine lets out a yeowl and twists to claw at Bucky, catching his cheek and lip before he drops her with a hiss. She hops back up onto the window and starts pawing at the glass again.
"Does she see something out there?" Sam asks, coming closer and reaching over. He takes Alpine carefully by the scruff, pulling a blanket off the bed and wrapping her tightly in it, effectively swaddling the cat.
Bucky goes to the window and looks out, then raises an eyebrow. He opens the window and leans out, glancing to the left. "Kid, there's a fucking front door for a reason!"
Sheepishly, Spider-Man inches over on the balcony and slips in through the window once Bucky leans back into the apartment. Once they're both safely inside, Bucky closes the window and crosses his arms over his chest.
"Is there a reason you went for the window?" Bucky asks.
Spider-Man reaches up and takes his mask off, revealing Peter Parker's bruised face. "I uh- may or may not have lost the backpack with my clothes in it and thought it might be weird for you to get Spider-Man just knocking on your door?"
Sam lets out a soft sound and sets the bundle of cat and blanket down on the bed, moving to Peter and turning his head side to side to check on his bruising. "Jesus, Pete. What happened out there?"
"I got hit," Peter says with a shrug. "It happens sometimes. Don't worry. I heal fast." He grins widely, looking between Sam and Bucky, then his eyes go wide and he rushes over to Bucky. "What happened to you? I know that wasn't there after the guy with the knife."
Bucky winces when Peter's gloved fingers brush the scratch down his cheek. "Alpine got excited seeing you out the window, I think," he mutters. "I made a rookie mistake in picking her up." He gently waves off Peter's touch. "I might have some clothes you can use, kid."
"I'm not exactly a kid anymore, Bucky," Peter grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Yeah, but everyone's a kid to him," Sam says with a grin. "He's over a hundred years old."
Bucky moves to the closet, searching for something for Peter. As he passes the bed again, Alpine finishes fighting with the blanket and hops up on his shoulder, purring and rubbing her face against his. Bucky pulls down a T-shirt and a pair of sweats, handing them back to Peter.
"Best I got," he says with a shrug, moving the shoulder Alpine isn't perched on. He gestures to the bathroom. "You go get changed, then come out for us to take a look at you. We'll order some pizza and you can tell us all about it." He claps a hand on Peter's shoulder, then leads Sam back to the front of the apartment with a chuckle.
"So, Pete is Spider-Man, huh?" Sam asks once they settle on the couch. Alpine jumps off Bucky's shoulder and starts wandering again. Sam turns to Bucky's cheek and cleans it gently before putting bandages over the cuts. "That's a new one. I bet Fury would be screaming if he knew."
"If only," Bucky hums. "Pete seems to be one of the only guys out there who's kept his identity pretty locked down. The only reason I figured it out is because he was there when I almost got robbed tonight. His voice is kinda unmistakable."
"I've been trying," Peter whines from the bedroom doorway, stepping into the room and dropping into the chair that's become his usual perch. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. "It's been a bitch just to keep my head up these days."
"How do you do it?" Sam asks him with a sad note to his voice. "You're young, kid. Sure, you're no teen anymore, but you shouldn't be doing this all on your own. Don't you have a team or something?"
Peter looks away, blinking quickly. "I mean, I kind of used to? But they- uh… they all moved on without me. I kind of got forgotten."
Bucky leans back, watching as Alpine leaps up into Peter's lap and curls herself up like she belongs there. Peter lazily pets her and Bucky feels a strange rush of familiarity, but it slips away. "That sounds like a lonely life," he says, blinking the thoughts away.
Peter shrugs. "I've gotten used to it?" He looks over at Bucky. "And then there's you guys, which thank you for being my friends. It's been really nice to be able to feel like myself again. I haven't felt like I belonged anywhere since being in the la-" He snaps his mouth shut and looks away.
Bucky looks at Sam, raising an eyebrow. Sam tilts his head slightly and nods. Peter's been doing this a lot. He'll start to say something and then shut himself up as though he feels he's about to spoil some enormous secret. Bucky bites at his lips, then winces at the claw mark through it, running his tongue over it gently.
"I'm glad to have you around, Pete," Bucky says after a moment. "Just, be more careful out there? Your face looks like a gruesome mosaic. I don't wanna be scraping you off the concrete because you're trying a little too hard, alright?"
Peter snorts and waves a hand lazily, then drops it back to pet Alpine some more. "I'll be fine, Bucky. You worry too much. It's like having an annoying older brother."
"Annoying older brother would track down that gal you keep talkin' about and give her your number for you since you're being such a wimp about asking her out," Bucky teases.
"The situation with MJ is delicate, you know that." Peter looks over at him with wide eyes.
"Delicate in that you don't know if you actually want to go out with her after all or…?"
Sam snorts, watching the two. "Okay, since you guys are in a heated debate, I'm going to call for the pizza. And I get to pick the toppings."
"Sammy, I'm beggin' you, doll, no onions," Bucky says, gripping Sam's wrist as he stands.
"Please one with nothing but olives," Peter says at almost the same time.
"He will order a pizza crust with no sauce or cheese and just olives, don't tempt him," Bucky warns.
"Okay, I want sauce and cheese, Jesus!" Peter sits up and Alpine slips off his lap, following Sam into the kitchen where he goes to grab the number for the nearest delivery place.
In the living room, Bucky and Peter continue to bicker, and while Bucky isn't quite sure yet what draws him to Peter, he knows there's something there that's important, and he refuses to let it go. The kid means something to him, even if only by a little bit. He intends to figure it out and protect the kid all the while.