The King Is Dead, Long Live The King
Bucky’s been part of a bunch of stupid shit during his lifetime. Like some real stupid shit. This, right here, somehow is far stupider than he thought his life could get.
It’s supposed to rain during funerals, he thinks.
It’s not supposed to be shiny and bright. It’s supposed to be wet and cold and horrible and broken. The sun is not supposed to shine on you when you’re standing around a hole in the ground with a casket in the middle staring back at you. It’s just unnatural, at least to Bucky.
The juxtaposition of the horrid sight ahead with the bright rays above them is unseemly enough to make him push his weight from one foot to another.
The silence is heavy. Uncomfortable. Unnatural.
Brekker would’ve filled it with a joke, Bucky thinks.
But he’s not here.
And that’s why it’s a fucking stupid thing to be a part of this.
What is even stupider still is that the grave in front of them is surrounded only by the five who were there when Malcolm Brekker decided to say goodbye to the land of the living.
It’s quite unnerving to think about Brekker without an entourage of his own, fawning over every word. He’s just that kind of guy. So when all the people who come to his funeral are Sam, Steve, Torres, Y/n, and himself, Bucky thinks he has never been part of something stupider in his 107 years of life.
Sam, though, seems to be able to verbalize these thoughts, unlike Bucky.
“How are we the only ones here, man?” Sam asks, hands still in the pocket of his black suit. They’re all dressed in black suits. It’s a funeral for fuck’s sake. “I thought he’d have a whole parade to his name, if not a whole damn festival.”
Y/n snorts something snide. “You wouldn’t want friends if you were surrounded by the people he had to be,” she says as she presses herself closer into Bucky’s side. Their hands are interlaced at the ends while her other hand holds onto his bicep rubbing soft patterns.
Steve’s standing a few steps away to his left. Y/n is to his right. Torres and Sam are to her right respectively. They all seem fairly confused at the turn of events.
“We’re all he’s got then?” Torres asks.
Y/n nods.
“You’re enough,” comes a voice from behind.
When everyone turns to look at the intruder, they’re met with a smarmy guy with a smarmier smile.
Bucky thinks shit can’t get stupider.
“Why the long faces, lady and gentlemen?” He asks. “You look like someone died.” And then he begins snickering.
“There was so much potential there and you went with ’You look like someone died’?” Y/n retorts. She tsks. “That’s a fucking waste of a fake death if I’ve ever seen one, Mal.”
Brekker walks over, taking off his sunglasses but keeping on the cap and the hoodie—which does not seem suspicious at all. He drops a kiss on top of Y/n’s head, then steps forward to Torres who’s now turned to face him. They exchange a look in silence and the moment that the seriousness melts off Torres’s face, Malcolm lunges forward taking his face in his hands, crashing their lips together. Torres’s hands come up to rest on his waist and for a moment both men are lost to their surroundings.
And then somehow the softness of the moment turns heated.
Bucky doesn’t blame them though. The horny fuckers haven’t met each other since the night of the attack which was a month ago.
He can’t imagine having to stay away from Y/n that long. He doesn’t fucking want to.
Y/n, however, seems in a cockblocking mood, cause there’s a smirk on her face as she says, “Touch some damn grass, Mal.” The men break apart but not away. “Can’t have you fucking on your own grave, my man.”
It had started, surprisingly enough, with Bucky slipping out of Y/n’s bed the morning after their confession and the hours and hours of… ‘activities’ that had followed.
He knew she loved having pies for breakfast, and as absurd the idea of it sounded to Bucky, he would have brought her the stars if she’d ask him to. So, what was an early run to the bakery down the block for an apple pie?
When he’d walked back into the apartment, dropped the pie on the kitchen island, and gone to wake her up, he’d found an empty bed, leaving him confused.
Until he heard—
“I must’ve been through about a million girls.”
He followed the voice to the bathroom, the door of which was left slightly ajar.
“I love ‘em and I leave ‘em alone.”
The sight Bucky saw made him swoon something fierce.
Bucky never thought he would ever be someone who’d get whipped this hard but alas, that was his own hubris.
“I didn’t care how much they cried, no sir, their tears left me cold as a stone.”
There she was, standing under the shower with shampoo in her hair, eyes closed, hips swaying side to side, splashing droplets of water with her movements, and utterly and completely naked.
“But then I fooled around and fell in love.”
Oh did he mention she was belting the damn song like her life depended on it? Cause she was, And he couldn’t help but just stand there at the edge of the door, witnessing the performance because fuck him. Alright? Fuck him. No one told him hearts could do actual fucking cartwheels.
But curse him, he couldn’t stop the soft chuckle that had managed to slip past his lips at the sight.
“I fooled around an—” She cut off as she noticed him. He instantly got off from where he had been leaning on the doorframe, taking a few steps over at her. She looked at him for a second and then, “I fooled around and fell in love,” she sang louder than before. And Bucky couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “I fooled around and fell in love!” She pointed at him as she sang. “I fooled around and fell in love.” She motioned him to come over.
And Bucky, ever the lovesick fool, happily walked over, to the shower stall.
“It used to be, when I’d see a girl that I liked.” She took his hand and pulled him under the shower in front of herself. And though he feigned protests, both of them knew they weren’t real. He was a 260 pound Super Soldier for Christ’s sake, if she was moving him, it’s cause he was fucking swooning head over heels, okay?
“I’d get out my book and write down her name.” So under the shower, he stood, his clothes still on, just wetter. “But when the grass got a little greener on the other side I’d just tear out that page.” She sang at him and all he could do was smile as she wrapped her hands around his neck while his fell onto her waist.
“But then I fooled around and fell in love.” She was playing with his now wet locks at the nape of his neck as they swayed from side to side with nothing but her voice guiding them along. “I fooled around and fell in love, I fooled around and fell in love. I fooled around and fell and fell in love.”
She looked right at him then, her voice lowering, “Free on my own that’s the way I used to be. But since I met you baby, love’s got a hold on me.” And the way she sang, he knew she meant every damn word. “Woo, it’s got a hold on me now, yeah.” Her face sobered, lost the smile but her eyes kept shining. “I can’t let go of you baby… I can’t stop loving you now.”
She was vulnerable in front of him, laying herself bare, in more ways than one. For no one else to see but him.
Fuck if Winnifred Barnes hadn’t raised a boy who wouldn’t be kind enough to return the favor.
“Hey cause I fooled around,” he began singing, “I fooled around, I fooled around.” Her face broke into such a blinding grin, he felt like he was looking at the full moon. “Fooled around, fooled around, and fell in love.” He pulled her closer, noses touched. “I fooled around and fell in love,” he sang with his whole heart.
She joined in too, chuckling at his horrid singing. They both sang and danced till they were both reduced to giggles.
“You mind if I take my clothes off now?” Bucky asked eventually.
“Now now, Barnes,” she said, her eyebrows wiggling. “Whenever have I said no to that?
They spent the next hour cleaning each other up, after making… let’s just say, several orgasmic messes.
They dressed up, despite Y/n’s protest, which only relented after Bucky mentioned the pie. They made their way to the kitchen, kissing and giggling, and situated themselves on the kitchen island.
As they were about to eat the pie, the sound of the locks on the front door turning made their heads whip in that direction.
“Glad to see you two kissed and made up,” Sam said the moment he walked in. Apparently, their domestic bliss was evident with relaxed faces, plates full of pies, and his shirt hanging off of Y/n’s frame. Yeah, fine, they weren’t really good at hiding it. But in their defense, Sam had promised to stop using the keys to her apartment after the last time he’d walked in on them doing… well exactly what you’d think.
As Sam made his way over, taking a seat next to Bucky, “Ah Sergeant,” Brekker greeted walking in behind Sam. “I see you’ve managed to steal my darling away.”
“I have a collection of knives, I won’t hesitate to use ‘em,” Bucky warned in an easy tone, as Y/n snickered from next to him. Brekker just raised his hands in surrender, that ever-present cunning smile still sat on his face.
He knew the comment was nothing but a joke. If anything the very genuine smile Brekker passed to Y/n as he came to stand in front of them told Bucky he was pretty damn happy for them both. Bucky had even noticed how he’d stopped calling her ‘darling’ ever since they’d started on this mission. For all his assholish antics, the man was anything but.
But, Bucky wasn’t going to admit that.
Torres had followed in behind Brekker and was now looking around the kitchen for what Bucky presumed to be coffee. So he’d gotten up and started a pot for what seemed to be turning into a team meeting. He was so focused on the coffee, he almost missed the next arrival, thinking that was going to be the extent of the company.
“Hey, Y/n? You seen Bucky?” Steve asked as he walked in, closing the door behind him. “He didn’t come home last nigh—” He cut himself off at the sight of Bucky’s head popping out from behind Brekker, with all eyes of the table now on the blond. His steps halted in realization.
“I should’ve seen that—” Steve began. But midway through the sentence realizing the jokes he was about to invite unto himself with the innuendo, his head fell. “—coming,” he finished regardless. Because Steve Rogers was never one to run away from a battle, even when it was in his best interest.
Brekker snickered at the joke but did not say anything. He, like everyone else, knew the fragility of the moment.
“Steve,” Y/n began, getting off the stool and taking a few steps in his direction. “Look, I’m sorry—”
Steve waved his hands in dismissal with one hand in his pocket. “It’s fine,” he said casually but Bucky knew him well enough to know that he was feeling anything but. “I’m just glad you guys are happy. I’m happy even. It’s a good thing. You guys—”
“I’m not apologizing for falling for your best friend, Steve,” Y/n chided, stopping Steve’s rambling. “It’s not our first love triangle.”
Steve looked up at her, confused. “Then what…?”
She sighed. “As I was saying, I’m sorry… for what I said, the night of the gala… about you leaving.” His hands darted up to dismiss her again, but she cocked her brow in challenge.
Okay, so maybe, there were some battles he did back away from.
“I was hurt and angry,” she continued, and Bucky’s heart hurt at the words because he’d made her feel that way. “And well, I had a full set of teeth back then, so I thought I was damn near invincible, alright?” She huffed. “But I didn’t mean it. It wasn’t kind and I didn’t mean it. Nostalgia is a bitch, sometimes going back to it is more alluring than anyone would like to admit.”
“You don’t have to apologize for that,” Steve told her. “You had every right to feel the way you did.”
“I know but I didn’t have a right to be mean,” she answered.
“You did, you do.”
“Steve—”
“No, I hurt you and made you think I don’t want you and that’s not true.”
“But it is,” she argued.
Now, Steve wanted to argue, Bucky could see it in his eyes. But at the same time, if he could see Steve’s eyes, that meant his eyes were on Bucky. And Bucky’s eyes were piercing through him, with what he knew was a fairly blank face. That punk must have been Captain America at some point, but he knew Bucky Barnes was a man of his word and would sure as shit punch him in the face if he continued.
But apparently, Y/n knew him that well too, cause then she looked back at Bucky with an annoyed face. “Can you quit glaring daggers at him?” She huffed. “God, the testosterone I have to be surrounded with,” she grumbled, turning back to Steve.
Bucky blinked and looked away because there wasn’t much he could deny her. Fuck that, Bucky was beginning to realize there wasn’t anything he could deny her. So he chose to pull out mugs from the cupboard and pour everyone a cup of coffee.
“Say what you have to,” Y/n urged.
Steve hesitated a few seconds before he said, “I do want you. I’m sorry for leaving. I am but I thought I’d lost you after Siberia, but I do want you.”
“You don’t,” Y/n answered, and before Steve could protest she added, “Fine, if you can name one relationship-furthering step that you took, I’ll believe you.”
“A relationship-furthering step?” Steve asked with brows furrowed in confusion.
Bucky passed the other three men a cup of their own, as they all decided to sit there and happily intrude on what most definitely should have been a private conversation.
“You know? A step that furthers our relationship? Like, I don’t know, asking someone out on the first date or buying a mattress together or proposing. You know? A relationship-furthering step.” she explained. “Name one, just one, and I’ll believe yo—No wait, you know what? I’ll fucking get back together with you, right here, right now. Fuck that, I’ll even fuck you on this damn couch right here,” she said pointing at the couch.
Bucky wanted to go skydiving… without a parachute.
She looked back at him then. “It’s just hyperbole, sunshine. I’d never do that. I’m trying to prove a point. I’m yours. Alien heart and alien soul; yours,” she promised assuredly before turning back.
Bucky could notice Brekker and Torres snickering next to him, trying to hide behind their coffees but he was too busy glaring at Steve to give a damn.
Steve on the other hand looked fucking lost. Caught between a world-class assassin ex as the rock and another world-class assassin best friend as the hard place.
“I can see you want to argue, man. Just spill it. I’ll protect you from Mr. Brooding back there,” she urged him, pointing back at Bucky. “Spill!”
Steve started hesitantly. “I—I did take steps to further our relationship.”
“Name one.”
Steve thought for a second and then, “I emptied out a drawer for you, that counts right?”
“Yeah, but that was after I’d already given you the entire closet in my guest room,” she rebuked.
Bucky couldn’t help but compare his and her relationship to hers and Steve’s. Cause he currently had closet space too, but it was in her room.
“Keys to my apartment,” Steve said after a pause. “I gave you the keys to my apartment first.”
“Because you needed me to water your damn plants while you were off on a mission, and then you forgot to take it back,” Y/n dismissed him again.
Bucky gave her the keys to his apartment barely one month in, with some rushed shy excuse about keeping it in case of emergencies. She returned the favor immediately.
“Third date!” Steve exclaimed. “I asked you out on the third date right after the second one, an—and they’re important, right?”
Y/n nodded slowly and then asked, “Steve, what do you think was our third date?”
Steve’s giddy excitement had vanished instantly. “…Tony’s birthday party?”
All four men groaned in unison.
“What? WHAT?” Steve asked, concerned and lost.
“Your third date was inviting to her brother’s birthday party?” Sam chided. “Come on, man.”
“This is becoming painful to watch,” Torres commented and Bucky had to agree.
Steve ran a hand through his hair, wracking his brain, and then turned to her again. “I asked you to move in with me. I definitely did that.”
“No, you told me your lease was up and that you were thinking about moving into the Compound with the rest of the team,” she argued.
“Yeah but that was my way of hinting that we move there together,” Steve defended.
And all four men just howled at him in varying degrees of loudness.
“A fucking hint, Steve?” Bucky shouted out. “What are you? 16?”
“I was just—” Steve was promptly cut off.
“Look, it’s fine. I was just trying to prove a point,” Y/n stated easily. “You didn’t really want me. And yeah, maybe you were in love with me but I don’t think it was the ‘I’ll burn down and rebuild civilizations for you’ kind of love… and that’s okay,” she told him. “Sometimes relationships don’t work out.” She immediately turned back to look at Bucky. Her voice, a warning as she said, “Not you and me, Barnes! Not us… Till the end of my fucking life, you hear me?”
Bucky’s face lit up with a smile. “However long you want. Sweetheart.”
She turned back to Steve then, “Point is, we didn’t work. And that’s okay. But it doesn’t allow me to be mean to you.”
“That is fine. That I can understand. But you can’t say I don’t want you,” Steve argued. “I came back because I missed you.”
“Have you considered that maybe you didn’t miss me, that maybe you just missed this?” She asked, pointing back at the group of men behind them. “Cause as someone who’s tried quitting this life to live out in domesticity about a couple dozen times, let me tell you, it really isn’t easy. And seeing as I’m the one who pulled you back into this life again, maybe you’ve associated those two things so closely that maybe you’re just confused.”
And the words seem to hit Steve like a lightning bolt. His eyes widen as his brows furrow. The punk looks like he’s about to shit a brick.
But before Bucky can watch him do that, the doorbell rings and Y/n walks over to open it.
“Happy?” Bucky heard her greet the man at the door. “I didn’t know it was my day,” she added. And Bucky already knew who was there. So he placed his mug down and rushed over to the door.
“Yeah, Pepper had something come up,” Happy replied dismissively to move past it and ask, “Is that Captain America?”
“What no?” Y/n answered, a little flustered, trying to obstruct Happy’s view of the living room with her body, unsuccessfully.
“Steve’s on the moon, Happy,” Bucky said as he came up from behind, blocking the view completely. “How could he be here if he’s on the moon?”
“Yeah, see?” Y/n agreed.
Bucky’s hands reached out, as Morgan Stark exclaimed in joy from Happy’s arms, “Tinman!”
“Hey there, princess,” Bucky cooed at her, pulling her in his arms as Y/n bid a rushed goodbye to Happy and closed the door.
Bucky with Morgan in hand and Y/n in toe made their way back to the crowd.
When Steve cocked his brow at them for the exchange he witnessed, Y/n explained, “Pepper would probably kill you.” And that was enough for him.
The six of them along with a cute little Morgan Stark gathered around the kitchen island.
“Anway,” Y/n began, sitting back down on the stool. “Care to tell me why you’re all here all bright and early to ruin my perfect morning?”
“Our fearless leader is intent on going after The Orphanage,” Brekker answered, stealing a big bite from Y/n’s pie that made her frown. Bucky pushed the plate away, handing her his own untouched pie. She smiled at him gently. Yeah, Bucky can never deny her anything. He’s a goddamn besotted fool, remember?
“But Mal thinks it’s a bad idea,” Torres added.
“Cause it would create an international incident,” Steve surmised.
As Y/n ate the pie she looked at Sam. “You won’t give up, will you?”
“What do you think?” Sam threw back at her with a smile.
She shook her head from side to side in affable defeat, reaching over to feed a bite of the pie to Morgan. “One condition,” she pitched. “We take them down hard enough that Mal doesn’t have to live out his days looking over his shoulder.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Sam agreed with a smile.
“Now we have to just find a genie so we can wish that into a reality,” Brekker cut in sarcastically.
“Mal—” Y/n tried.
Brekker cut her off. “There is no way of taking down the entire organization and you know it. Even if we take down Mount Olympus, they’ll still have another Hera waiting to replace the first. They’ll still have their smaller splintered branches that will persevere. That will, in the end, hunt me down.”
“Mal—”
He cut her off again, “I appreciate the sentiment, Y/n. I do. Really. But if Hera doesn’t care for hurting the children we rescued, I don’t mind attacking The Orphanage only to stall them. In the grand scheme of things, waiting for a miraculous Achilles heel to appear out of thin air to assist us in ensuring my safety is a waste of time. We attack now, attack quickly and disbalance them, that should be our goal—”
“Malcolm,” Y/n interrupted. And the tone of her voice made him shut up. “When I was there, they kept these files. Back in my day, they were hard copies but I’m sure they’ve been digitized now… These files were essentially a ledger of sorts, of all the crimes committed, along with a piece of evidence from the scene, by every single employee of The Orphanage. Including the higher-ups. Including Hera… It was blackmail, for worst-case scenarios of anyone rebelling. Or it was supposed to be but it could also act as—”
“—evidence,” Brekker cut her off again.
“You cut me off one more time, so help me god,” Y/n warned without much heat. But Brekker backed off nonetheless.
“So we have a way to nail the bast—” Sam cut himself off, looking back at Morgan who sat in Bucky’s arms intently watching the group interact. “Bad guys,” Sam corrected himself. Looking back at his team he said, “If we can get our hands on the files, we can prove all the stuff they’ve done.”
“But that still doesn’t make Mal any less of a target,” Torres interrupted. “I mean, yeah we’ll have an easier time dismantling the whole organization and it will go faster but it will only piss them off more.”
“Making Brekker even more tempting a target,” Bucky added.
“And we’ll still need to obtain the files legally,” Steve pointed out. “The UN can’t get access to it through any of you guys, because that would lead an—”
“—international incident,” Sam finished, with a huff.
Brekker went on to add how he couldn’t bring it in himself because he wouldn’t be considered a reliable source and something about orange not being his color and how prison food would upset his belly.
But Bucky was a little distracted cause Morgan was pulling on the collar of his shirt and motioning him to lean down. So he did.
She whispered quietly into his ear, putting her little hands around her mouth to make words quieter still.
And when she was done, Bucky pulled away and looked down at her with a proud grin. “What would we ever do without you, princess?” He dropped a big kiss on her cheek as she giggled.
This exchange between the oldest and youngest in the room brought the conversation to a halt.
“What if we killed Brekker?” Bucky suggested.
“Woah Woah Woah! Hold on. Hold on!” Brekker took a couple steps back, while everyone else’s protests were drowned out by his loudness. “Look, clearly you won. You got the girl, Sergeant. The competition’s over. She’s all yours. You really don’t need to kill me.”
Bucky stared at him in utter annoyance for a second before he said, “First of all, there was no competition, boytoy. Second of all, I meant what if we faked your death.” He looked around the room. “Princess here came up with a great idea… What if we faked his death during our attack on the Headquarters like Gandalf did in the Mines of Moria?”
There was a beat of silence then—
“You let her watch Lord of the Rings?” Y/n balked at him the same time as Steve said, “It would get The Orphanage off your back.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed with realization as he said, “And it’d also let me swoop in onto the scene stating that Malcolm Brekker was a dangerous arms dealer I’d been chasing.”
“And since technically, I have committed a lot of crimes within your borders,” Brekker ventured.
“Sam would be within his legal rights to take control of the scene,” Torres added. “And stumble upon the evidence files by mistake.”
“Especially if it seems like you burnt down a harmless Orphanage taking care of kids on the street,” Bucky said with a smile.
“Of course, yes. Make me your villain,” Brekker snarked back.
“But that would also set you free,” Y/n interrupted. When Brekker cocked an eyebrow at her, she added, “You’d be legally dead, Mal… You wouldn’t have to stay Malcolm Brekker, arms dealer… You could be whoever you want.” She smiled at him then. “You could be free.”
And now here they are.
Here he is.
Dead. And free.
Brekker pulls Torres to his right, hands interlaced, and looks down ahead at his own casket, with a gravestone on top. It’s blank, unetched. Just as empty as the wooden box that they just watched get lowered into the ground.
“You look pretty good for a dead guy,” Sam comments with a smile.
“Thank you. I moisturize,” Brekker quips back.
Sam chuckles. “Safehouse got too overwhelming for you?” He asks.
“Absolutely not. Harley is a fucking charm to live with. With the ungodly music and the cocktail mix of Red Bull and Mountain Dew, he considers a meal? He’s a fucking a dream come true,” Brekker deadpans.
All five of them snicker.
“So, it’s done then?” Brekker asks after a pregnant pause.
Sam nods. “I found the evidence files in the ashes after I came looking for you. Handed it over to the UN.”
“As soon as the files came to light the Government of Madripoor obviously denied having any affiliation with The Orphanage,” Steve informs.
“We’ve set up a whole separate unit and deployed ops all over the world to burn the whole organization to the ground,” Torres adds.
“We still have no idea where the bounty hunters came from though,” Sam chimes in.
“Apparently the Power Broker called out a hit on the Orphanage,” Brekker answers.
Everyone responds with confused looks only Sam grumbling, “That definitely won’t come to bite us in the ass.”
After a pause, “You’ve also been pardoned,” Y/n says with a chuckle, “retroactively.”
Brekker laughs too then. “The irony of it all is going to kill me… oh wait.”
“We’re gonna hear this every day, aren’t we?” Bucky asks
rhetorically, groaning.
“Who says I’m sticking around Sergeant? The world’s my overpriced oyster, I could go wherever I wanted,” Brekker says with a smile.
“Something tells me you’re not running off to Costa Rica the first chance you get,” Sam states, looking pointedly at Brekker’s hands that are holding onto Torres’s.
“You’ve got me there, Captain,” Brekker acquiesces, still grinning.
“So? What would you like to do with your freedom then?” Y/n asks him.
Brekker looks up at the dazzling sky which is now gathering up grey clouds out of nowhere. He looks back down at them and says, “I’ve really been craving a home-cooked meal.”
“You got it, darling,” Y/n says, teasing him with his own nickname.
They all share a laugh and begin to make their way out of the graveyard. But before they are out of earshot of his gravestone, Brekker screams in fluent French, “Le roi est mort, vive le roi!”
The king is dead, long live the king!
And Bucky should’ve known that was a goddamn omen.