Inspired by the comic by viudanegraaa on tumblr.
https://viudanegraaa.tumblr.com/post/679711681703706624/brooseweyn-konovi-congratulations-this-is?fbclid=IwAR0FiJ_Qm_trQ1LfgiKFgzGtyan19dovsR2yOqtVxV83xZ6COCSr8hHgoUs
It’s warm and cozy. Weird. Everything is a little dimmer, like the lights are tired. Everywhere he looks, things are a little fuzzy, a little blurry. But it’s nice…
Bucky Barnes finds himself in a hallway. A hospital hallway. But he’s not afraid. What’s happening? Right, Sam needs him. Sam’s voice was like a happy bird’s on the phone.
“He’s here, baby.”
Swallowing unexpected nerves, Bucky rolls his shoulders. He finds himself in a pastel colored hallway, with warm walls and clean floors where everyone is smiling. It's all sort of fuzzy and dim, but in a good way. He feels rested.
"Sam is ready." He's told. Sam was ready. Was Bucky? The fear of oncoming responsibilities and fearful questions cloud his mind as he throws the door open. Inside the room, Sam sits on the hospital's bed, smiling and holding a pink bundle of blankets in his arms. Bucky rushes to him, his fears and anxieties pushed aside. Sam, with a tired smile, hands him the bundle. Tears well in his eyes, as Bucky takes the bundle into his arms and peers down at his child’s face with growing horror.
He hadn't agreed to this. In the warm blankets, sits Redwing. Despite Redwing’s inability to speak or show emotion, Bucky gets an overwhelming feeling of being laughed at. Redwing is not a child, he’s a pesky drone, bundled in a pink blanket.
Bucky wakes up shrieking. Sweat rolls down his forehead to his face. His right arm is trembling. Are those tears in the corners of his eyes…?
As he shakily moves from his sweat-soaked sheets, Bucky climbs off of his bed and stumbles through his door. The hallway is lit by a couple of bulbs on the wall in pretty fixtures. There’s a rug, old and dusty. It’s far different than the clean, perfect hospital of his nightmares (and so much better.)
Bucky can hear one of Sam’s shows playing. Loud and obnoxious, with a fuckig laugh track.
He throws open the door, startling Sam out of the book in his hands (why would he have the TV on?)
“Your stupid fuckin’ drone is NOT your child!”
Sam looks at him with the most confused expression Bucky has seen in a long time. Despite the growing guilt from his outburst, growing in his stomach, Bucky remains standing in one place, shaking with irrational anger. Maybe he shouldn’t have yelled.
“He is my fuckin’ child, Buck.” Sam raises his eyebrows, grinning playfully. Bucky yells.