The rising sun brings with it chirping birds and a changing sky. The colors vivid enough to draw the attention of one woman as she lay nestled beneath her covers. It’s a rarity that she’s up first, something that at one time was her specialty what with it only having been her and the boys during the five-year blip. Until a certain super soldier walked up on their dock and into her troubled life. A struggling widow with young boys and quickly growing debt. Most wouldn’t find any reason to stay or even see the appeal, which only helped to make him stand out to her from his first, “Hi.”
His lingering gaze and soft voice he’d used to repeat her name back to her. It was like being a teenager again, having just met the man that would become her now late husband. Her comfort around him hadn’t taken long to blossom either. Something about the way he’d carried himself had been alluring, making him into a mystery she’d wanted to crack. To get inside his head; see who he was as a person.
It hadn’t been until that evening that Sam had informed her of his identity.
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“You brought an assassin into my home, Sam!? You put my babies at risk!”
“Sarah, he’s not,” Sam steps forward, hands raised in a placating manner. “It wasn’t him. It was Hydra. He was brainwashed and had his memory wiped for over seventy years.”
“That doesn’t change-“
“He’s been a prisoner of war since World War II, Sarah. The man only wants to right the people he wronged and figure out how to carve out a life for himself.”
The words she felt on the tip of her tongue died as she pulled her lips inward and bit down, her mind whirling. Remembering the footage seen on the news during the highway fight in two-thousand fourteen. The screams of panic as police cars and innocent people were blown apart and put in the path of stray bullets. The censoring of bodies in the streets by the news stations.
“Do you trust him?”
“Yes.”
“Samuel Wilson, I’ll not have him near my family if you’re not one hundred percent sure.”
Her nerves feel shot as she feels the warmth of her brothers’ large hands engulf her shoulders. His eyes meeting hers, gaze unwavering.
“I trust James Buchanan Barnes.”
The single mothers heart sits heavy in her chest despite the trust she has in her brother outweighing her intense worry. Only finding herself able to nod as Sam pulls her in for a hug, his embrace walling the rest of the world out as she takes solace in his presence. Knowing that whoever this man truly is that’s been invited into their home, he had to be someone of value.
“Okay.”
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“No…”
The broken whisper is enough to bring her back.
Back to her home.
Back to her bed.
Back to James.
His tremors are harsh enough to affect her as their bed shudders. Slowly rolling to her other side, she rests a gentle hand to his bare skin. The faint touch, one that after four years of marriage he’d grown finally grown accustomed to, is enough to bring him to a semi-conscious state. Bleary sleep laden eyes staring up at the ceiling as Sarah’s warm hand glides across his bare chest, coming to rest on his right shoulder. His vibranium arm wrapping itself around her waist; her head now tucked beneath his chin.
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
His heart, beating fast beneath her ear, almost lulls her to sleep as he begins to calm. Only brought from her drowsy state by the touch of his flesh and blood hand. Callused fingers cupping and lifting her head enough for his lips to reach her nose. His strong arms wrapping around her body as he carefully rolls her onto her back, his muscled frame now resting atop her. Sarah’s breath catches as she stares at the man above her. His heavy stubble, piercing blue eyes, the way he keeps biting his bottom lip as he drinks in her beauty.
Wordlessly, he presses a strong, impassioned kiss to her lips. His mouth almost swallowing hers whole before he moves to her cheeks and trails them down her neck.
“I love you.” He mumbles, resting his forehead against her own.
“I know.“
Capturing her lips again, he hopes she’ll feel every ounce of love he has for her. All the joy she’s brought and the pain she’s eased. Gasping for breath as they part, Sarah strokes her hands over his bare shoulders.
“You’re so beautiful, James.”
His inner and outer beauty never fail to get her heart racing.
The fact that he belongs to her and her to him.
Bucky merely pulls at the blanket until it covers them both, blocking out all daylight. The day and its inevitable problems will have to wait. Right now, the only thing that matters, is taking some time for themselves.
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“Hey, hey, family! What’s going on?”
“Uncle Sam!”
The usual rowdiness of the house brings a smile as he shuts the front door. Cass, dressed and ready for the day, sets the table as AJ, pajama clad, places a small bowl of oatmeal in front of Lila. It doesn’t take long for the three-year old’s face to become covered in the mushy breakfast food as she attempts to spoon it into her mouth.
Pride swells in his chest as looks on. AJ, using the napkin he’d had near his plate, steps away from his breakfast to wipe the face of his baby sister.
“You always make a mess, Lils.”
“No, I not, AJ.”
The thirteen-year-old shakes his head, smiling up at his uncle as the man ruffles both his and Lila’s hair. Cass, now fifteen, watches on as he works on getting through his own plate. Two plates of toast and eggs sitting untouched on the table. Sam, taking a seat, pulls one to him.
“Where’s your folks?”
The distinctive sound of creaky stairs reaches the ears of those in the kitchen as the two adults in question make their way towards them. Sarah’s tied robe flows behind her while she makes her way to the table, pressing a kiss to each head of her children before sitting down. Bucky, clad in only black sleep pants, stands at the coffee pot. Three mugs sitting in front of him. It doesn’t take long for Sam to notice the slightly disheveled appearance of the couple, Bucky’s hair still tousled from more than just sleep. Bucky, making his way to the table, stops long enough to nudge the boys affectionately and press a kiss to Lila's temple.
Flinging her drool and oatmeal covered spoon in Bucky's face, the little girl angles it towards his mouth. "Daddy, oats."
Sam looks on, deeply amused, as the worlds deadliest assassin cleans the spoon of his three year old as she pushes it into his mouth. AJ and Cass failing to hold back their snickers as the little girl squeals with joy. The former falcon's heart swells a bit at the sight, making sure to keep his face neutral as Bucky, oatmeal downed, continues his trek to the other side of the table to join his wife.
“Soooo, you guys weren’t down here when I walked in. Busy morning?”
Holding back a wince at Sarah’s punch to his right arm, he slides his gaze to the former Winter Soldier. The coffee the man in question extends to him getting a little too close to the rim for comfort before Sam’s able to grab it from his hand, saving his lap from a potential scolding.
“Alright, I’m sorry… Geez.”
Smirk displayed proudly; Bucky quickly swipes the toast from Sam’s hand. Said toast now halfway eaten as the older man finally takes a seat at the table.
“Get your own plate!”
“That is my plate,” Bucky, toast pinched between his lips, snatches the entire plate from under Sam’s fork. Tucking into the half-eaten food without much thought or care as his brother-in-law stares.
“That’s low, man.”
“Should’ve thought hard before you took my plate.”
“Finder’s keepers.”
“BOYS ENOUGH.”