Chapter 40
When Steve returned from the fight, Bucky knew something was wrong the moment he walked through the door.
For one thing, Loki hadn’t been the first to arrive at the tower, retreating to their room. Usually, he insisted on needing to shower immediately, not wanting to be covered in grit and/or blood for longer than absolutely necessary.
Instead, Steve had rushed into Bucky’s arms, words spilling out of his mouth faster than Bucky could comprehend them.
When he’d calmed down enough to tell him what had happened, Bucky had been pissed.
What part of teleporting to some unknown location would keep Loki safe from Tyr and the Chitauri?
What was he thinking?
What had possessed him to think that he would be safer without anyone’s help?
On the third night since Loki’d disappeared, Bucky rummaged through the pantry, looking for a snack to binge on.
There weren’t many options.
Stark must’ve forgotten to order groceries again.
With a frustrated huff, Bucky started moving cans of food and boxes of an assortment of macaroni, rice, and mashed potato flakes.
As he moved an unusual jar of honey, a sudden change in air pressure made his ears pop. A chill ran down his spine. Confused, he looked up.
The pantry walls were gone, replaced by a wall of darkness on all four sides. He imagined if he touched it, there would be something blocking him from escape.
Man, he hated magic.
Wait, magic?
His heart leaped as he took in the several stacks of nonperishable food and bottles of water heaped in a corner of the . . . inter-dimensional pocket room? There were a couple of books, too, Frigga’s books.
An air mattress, with a swathe of pillows and blankets stacked on it in such a way that it almost looked like a nest, and at the center of it—
“Loki?”
The blankets shifted, and red eyes, wide and frightened, met his. In a split second, Loki sat up, clutching a bundle in his arms against his chest and drawing his legs closer to himself.
A loud cry broke the silence of the room.
Loki paused to soothe the baby, and pointedly refused to look back up at Bucky.
“How did you find me?”
“Oh,” Bucky snapped back, “Sorry if I was looking for something to eat while I worried about you.”
“I had a plan.”
“Sure, but you didn’t bother to tell anyone what that plan was, apparently.”
Loki didn’t answer, so Bucky pressed on with a barrage of questions.
“What if something went wrong, and you needed help? What if you couldn’t get to us in time, and you died here?”
Loki flinched at the harsh edge to his words.
Good, Bucky thought to himself, but softened his voice.
“Why?” He asked, “Why—Don’t you trust us?”
“I don’t know,” Loki mumbled, his voice quivering, “I—I want to. I swear—I should trust you by now. I’m sorry, I should’ve—“
Bucky felt a pang of guilt hit him square in the chest.
No, no, it’s not your fault. He wanted to wrap himself around him, to whisper the words, again, and again, until he never doubted it again.
But Bucky had never been good at mushy words.
At least, not when he really wanted to be.
“Shut up. Just . . . shut up and let me apologize,” Bucky knelt by his side in an instant, already internally cringing at his attempt to make Loki feel better, “I’m sorry. I’m probably not the person you want to be talking to right now. Steve’s a lot better at feelings than me.”
Loki let out a breathy laugh, and used his free arm to grab the back of Bucky’s neck to pull him in for a kiss.
“But you’re the better kisser,” he smirked after they had separated, and breathed, “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” Bucky couldn’t stop the blush that ran to his face, “And thanks, but you know you’re the best kisser.”
“Mmm, true,” Loki admitted, tilting his head slightly, “Does this mean you forgive me?”
“Only if you let me help now,” Bucky said, “Cause I’m not leaving.”
“Help me?”
“Yeah, whatever you need.”
“There might be something . . . “ Loki started.
“What?”
“I’m freezing,” Loki shifted and patted the spot on the mattress next to him.
No further explanation needed, Bucky slid onto the mattress next to Loki and pulled him close. It felt like hugging an ice block, but Bucky wasn’t complaining. After he’d been experimented on, his blood had always run a little warm anyway.
He breathed a sigh of contentment, then turned his gaze to the bundle in Loki’s arms.
Wrapped in none other than Bucky’s cashmere blanket, she looked impossibly tiny, with tiny blue hands, and deep red eyes heavy with sleep.
She yawned, and gazed curiously up at Bucky.
Bucky gave her a smile, and she returned it with her own gummy toothless smile that made him want to melt.
“You have a name picked out?”
“ . . . Willow.”
“Willow,” Bucky echoed softly, “She’s beautiful.”
Loki made a noise sounding somewhere between a hum and a scoff, letting his head on Bucky’s shoulder, “She’s the definition of a little monster.”
“Ah, but she’s our little monster,” Bucky couldn’t stop smiling, “You know Stevie’s gonna spoil her, right?”
“Hardly,” Loki scoffed, “It’ll probably be you spoiling her. You absolutely cannot say no.”
“Fair enough.”
“What do you think your spirit animal would be?”
Bucky’s question, so sudden and random, caught Loki off-guard, but he answered fairly quickly, “Everyone says my spirit animal would be a snake.”
“Really?” Bucky eyes squinted with dissatisfaction, “I don’t see it.”
“Slippery, clever, and full of lies?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Bucky admitted, “but I don’t think snake quite fits you.”
“A cat maybe?” Loki pointed out helpfully.
“You used to take that form a lot, but no, no,” Bucky shook his head, and gazed at him a little longer before deciding, “I think you’d be a bunny.”
“A bunny?” Loki raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re reserved, protective, and quick. They also eat a surprising amount of food and are way more dangerous than they appear.”
“Plus, bunnies make nests, too.” he added, gesturing to the mess of pillows and blankets they were currently buried in, “I guess this kinda explains why my blankets have been disappearing, too.”
Loki tilted his head to glare at him, “I don’t know whether I should hug you or slap you.”
“Wh-How do you even know that about rabbits?” Loki asked after a moment, “I thought you were a city boy?”
“I talk to Barton,” Bucky answered, indignant, “His kids do 4-H. Lila shows rabbits. Did’ja think I don’t pay attention?”
Loki laughed, but the smile on his face slipped into an unreadable expression.
“What?” Bucky asked, afraid he’d said something wrong.
“They know, don’t they?”
Loki looked down at Willow, his tone filled with a resignation that hurt to hear.
“You disappeared; They kinda needed to know why,” Bucky answered apologetically, “But you don’t have to worry. This is the Avengers we’re talking about. This is just another Tuesday for them.”
“You should’ve seen Tony’s face,” he chuckled a little to himself, “I think he was more upset that you managed to erase the security footage of the tower without setting off Jarvis.”
“And Barton?”
“Oh, he was pissed.”
Loki glanced up at Bucky.
“He was upset that you didn’t tell him,” Bucky added quickly, “but he was even more mad that he couldn’t figure it out on his own.”
It was true.
When Clint heard about the baby, he’d kinda frozen on the spot for a second, only to hold his arms out, palms up, in a disbelieving, frustrated gesture.
“AUuuuugh, I should’ve known,” he’d groaned, resting his head in his hand on the kitchen counter, “In hindsight, it’s so obvious.”
Personally, Bucky thought Loki had hidden it pretty well, but to be fair, Clint had three kids, and Bucky was new to the whole parenting thing.
“You wanna come out of the pantry soon?” Bucky asked.
Loki still seemed reluctant, so Bucky reassured him, “You don’t have to. We know you’re safe now; that’s all that matters.”
Loki sighed, “You can tell Steve where I am, I suppose, but can I wait a little longer to leave?”
“You take all the time you need, Fishbrain,” Bucky murmured, nuzzling him affectionately.