How'd it come to this?
Reaching Bucky wasn't the hard part, getting him to sit down and find a way to tell him about everything however was; Steve Rogers lived in a world of lies and covers and necessities when it came to those things but that didn't mean that he liked them or that he was good at it himself. He was America's hero. He preferred to be as honest and as good as he could. He was supposed to be the beacon of hope and all that stuff.
He tried to be an honest man, he really did.
Looking at Natasha this afternoon had reminded him just how much honest men could fall into holes when they thought that they were doing the right thing, there was a fine line between protecting someone and deceiving them. Steve had somehow managed to do both of them without even realizing it. He knew someday that he'd have to face the consequences for the choices that he'd made that day and so would Bucky but this was beyond anything they had been able to imagine.
Either one of them.
He knew that there was no way in hell Bucky would've ever seen anything like this coming either. So few people had open access to Steve Rogers's apartment so when the door opened, Steve didn't turn. Instead, he poured himself a drink and he sat down before he slid another across the coffee table obviously signaling he wanted his friend to join him, as Bucky walked overlooking altogether worse for the wear at that - Steve studied him and he released a deep sigh.
"We need to talk." No one on the planet liked those words.
No one.
He watched the way that Bucky frowned quizzically at him. He watched the way that the battered soldier studied his best friend for any inkling of what it was he needed to say but Steve's face remained one that showed simply sadness which made Bucky all the more curious.
"Steve, what's going on?" He was worried, undoubtedly and undeniably so.
Steve Rogers had already resolutely decided he was not going to tell Bucky about his daughter outright, he was going to tell him instead in another more subtle way.
"Natasha is back." Steve's eyes met Bucky's as he spoke.
He watched the way that his best friends face distorted into something resembling agony and Bucky finally sat down; he gripped the arm of the chair so hard that it protested beneath his grip and in that moment it was clear to see that those three words had thrown him off balance in a very deeply profound way; it had been nine years since any of them had seen Natasha Romanov.
"I tried to find her," Bucky spoke gently as he looked at Steve.
He could feel the pain in his chest, he'd looked and looked and looked just to know that she was safe but he'd found nothing, a part of him had started to believe that maybe Steve had been right and that she'd died out there somewhere and he'd never know what happened to her. Maybe though it was just that he hadn't known her as well as he thought he did. Maybe it was because she knew how to disappear just as well as he did and she knew how to cover her tracks better than almost anyone else.
She really, truly hadn't wanted to be found and he couldn't have expected anything else. He could tell though that Steve hadn't known that, he hadn't known that he'd looked for her and he couldn't possibly comprehend the pain that came with finding no trace of her. He just wanted to know that she was okay. He just wanted to know that she was alive. He just wanted to know that she was out there somewhere even if he couldn't be a part of her world.
He'd have gone back to her years ago if he'd been able to find her, the only reason that he'd kept running and he'd kept up the pretense of his death was because there was no longer any reason for Bucky Barnes to be legally or knowingly alive. No one knew he was except for Steve. No one had even suspected anything which was probably good, none of them needed people asking questions.
"I looked for a few years, I couldn't find anything. I thought had once or twice but she knows how to disappear better than anyone I've ever met. She was trained to be a ghost and I guess that's what she went back to." He just hoped that she hadn't gone back to the darker sides of things too.
Undoubtedly though he was curious as to why she was back now. Why after all these years had she returned to New York? What had brought her home again? Maybe she was just tired of running, maybe she just missed her family, maybe she just missed her friends.
Maybe... All he could say was maybe. It hit him at that moment that he didn't know her anymore.
"How is she?" He let out a small laugh as he spoke the words, did he even have the right to ask?
"Buck, she's- I mean she's good, don't get me wrong. She looks good. She's had a rough time lately but she's good. Happy for the most part." But running again. Steve couldn't bring himself to say it.
Natasha was running again. Natasha was running again not only to protect herself but a little girl, too.
"Yeah?" Bucky questioned, he felt something twist inside of him and it made him feel sick.
Happy. Did that mean happy with someone?
"Yeah that's good, she deserves to be happy." His jaw flexed as he spoke.
Steve could read his best friend like a book at that moment and he shook his head.
"No, it's not like that. You need to go see her. Just- Even if you don't let her know you're there just go. Just go and see for yourself." He implored.
He wouldn't tell him. He couldn't.
How could he even begin to explain that he had a daughter? How could he tell Bucky Barnes that he had a child that he didn't know about and that his faked death had meant that he wasn't there to raise her or even know about her existence? It seemed so cruel, too cruel for the words to pass his lips. He couldn't stand to break his best friend's heart when he already knew that he had to break Natasha's. Doing it once would be bad enough but twice? Twice was just too much.
They lived in a world of darkness and secrets but Steve Rogers was not cold. He wouldn't hurt his friends willingly, not ever. He wasn't a monster, a man that sometimes crossed a line trying to do the right thing but he wasn't cold and he was no monster. He'd never hurt the people he loved willingly.
Bucky though? Bucky could tell that Steve was hiding something, he knew him well enough to know when he was lying and right now he knew that he was lying. Whatever it was that Steve couldn't say was either so bad that Bucky Barnes would only believe it if he saw it himself or something so heartbreaking that he couldn't bring himself to say it.
He hated the idea of going to see her without being able to hold her and being unable to apologize but whatever it was Steve wanted him to see was obviously important and so, the soldier released a sigh but nodded his head anyway.
"Okay. I'll go see her, I can't let her know Steve. I can't have her hate me just yet." Just seeing her tonight would be enough because it had to be enough.
He'd missed her so badly that every day he spent not knowing if she was safe was torture for him and thinking she was dead had made the world around him mean nothing but he fought on because he had no other choice. Fighting was all that he'd ever known. Fighting was all that he could do when he thought he lost the woman he loved and that he'd hurt her so badly before. The thought of Natasha dying with a broken heart was the worst kind of hell and one that he undoubtedly believed he deserved.
"Buck? You need to handle this carefully." That was all Steve would say, he ran his hand down his face before he downed his drink.
"You should go." It wasn't that he was kicking his best friend out, it was that he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep up this pretense.
Bucky rose to his feet, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder, and nodded his head. He could see that Steve wanted to say something else but he remained silent. His mind was spinning though, what could he have wanted him to see so badly that the very thing he'd emphasize he needed to do was to go and see the woman he loved, the woman that thought that he was dead and that had thought she'd buried him all those years ago?
What could be so desperate that that was the only solution? He supposed he'd find out soon enough.
The balcony outside of Natasha's apartment ran along three windows, her living room, the room she used as a makeshift gym, and the spare bedroom that she'd never used but Clint or others had crashed in a time or two when they'd showed up either completely wasted or hurt. The fire escape on the other side led to the window to the hallway, he could climb in without setting off any alarms, she rarely set the alarm if she was home anyway and so, that was his plan of action.
Just as he'd thought, he got inside without incident and the soft tones of her voice immediately drew his attention. Spare bedroom, that was unusual. Natasha never spent any time at all in there, she'd never had a reason to beyond cleaning. She was kind of OCD that way.
He walked quietly to the door and his blue eyes took in the sight before him, she sat on the edge of a bed, and in her hands was a book that she was reading to a child that was falling asleep before her eyes. He felt as though someone had knocked him clean on his ass and knocked the air out of his lungs as he watched the scene unfold. This was what Steve had wanted him to see, Natasha had a child.
Natasha, his precious Natasha who had always believed herself incapable of having children had a child of her own; he found himself wondering if somewhere along the lines she'd adopted a child but he could see the girls face in the moonlight and he knew that was impossible, she looked too much like Natasha for her to be anything but biological. Her hair was too dark for her to be another Red Room clone.
Natasha had a child.
He backed up until his back hit the wall behind him and he felt things start spinning around him. This was always supposed to be impossible, they'd both known that. They'd both agreed that it was fine that it was impossible but it didn't seem as though their assumption had been at all correct. It wasn't impossible because the little girl laid almost asleep looked too much like Natasha for her to be anything but a biological child.
No.
How.
Who...
"Momma?" The little girl spoke softly.
"Yeah?" Natasha replied with a gentle fondness in her voice.
"Can I see that man again? The one that was best friends with daddy?" The question was spoken carefully by a sleepy child.
He couldn't see the sad smile on Natasha's features.
"I'm sure Steve would like that. He can tell you some stories about daddy when he was younger." She knew how curious the little girl had always been about her father.
Natasha had made sure that in some manner or another he was present in her life because she couldn't stand the thought of him never being a part of this in some way even if it still tore her apart. It almost felt like he was here with her sometimes because she kept him alive in stories that she told her daughter. Their daughter.
"But you need to sleep now, okay? Uncle Clint and Uncle Logan are taking you to the zoo tomorrow." She'd asked them to do it so that she had the day to shop for clothes and other necessities that they'd left behind when they'd left.
"Okay, momma. I love you." The small girl yawned as she spoke, she was fighting to keep her eyes open.
"I love you too, Em. Sleep. I'll be right down the hall." Naturally, Natasha would reassure the girl.
Bucky listened to the exchange silently and it became harder and harder to breathe. That little girl was not only her daughter but if what he'd heard was right she was his too. That had been what Steve was telling him he needed to see. That was what Steve had been avoiding telling him. He was a father and he had left his daughter to believe her father was dead by lying to her mother all those years ago. He hadn't been around to raise his child because he'd lied.
He'd lied. He'd thrown everything away with a stupid lie.
No. This hurt more than anything else ever had. He felt a crushing sense of sadness that felt like it was going to consume him. What had he done? That precious, beautiful girl believed her father was dead and he'd left her mother to raise her all alone thinking that he was gone. He was a monster. He'd never stopped being a goddamn monster because only a monster could be so cruel. He hadn't known then what he was giving up. Why hadn't anyone know about this?
Right, because it was Natasha and she'd have gone out of her way to protect the most important thing in her life and he had no doubt that was their child. He had no doubt that their child was the most important part of her life. What had he done? How could he have been so stupid?
He'd given up the most important thing in the world: He'd given up the chance to be a father to that little girl and he had no idea if her mother would ever forgive him enough to let him be in her life. What was he supposed to do now? How could he stand here and apologize like that'd fix anything? He turned around again and exited her apartment the same way he had entered as she exited the room. He leaned against the wall outside and he tried his damn best to stop himself from screaming so goddamn loud. He hated himself. He hated himself more than he ever thought possible.
What had he done?
He vaulted off of the side of the fire escape, he didn't even bother to walk down he knew already that he'd be just fine it took a lot more than that to hurt him. He made his way back to Steve's apartment and again, he didn't knock. Steve's eyes turned to him as he walked inside.
He stood quietly for a moment as he tried desperately to fight for composure. This was worse than what he'd imagined it would be, this hurt more than anything he'd been able to imagine when Steve told him there was something he'd needed to see for himself and Steve Rogers could see that, his expression softened. Bucky Barnes had just had his heartbroken.
"I have a kid." Even the words broke him more.
"Yeah. I didn't wanna tell you, you needed to see for yourself." Steve Rogers couldn't even begin to find the words for that.
"I get it..." He really did, he really understood why he couldn't tell him.
It was so painful though.
"Do you know her name? Anything about her? I heard her tell Natasha she wanted to come to see you again." How terrible a feeling it was to have to ask Steve what his own daughter's name was.
"Emiliya. Her name is Emiliya. Emiliya Rebecca Barnes." She had her father's name.
She was named after her aunt. Natasha had met Rebecca, it was only because of Natasha's support that he'd felt brave enough to do it. He smiled at that, it was a beautiful tribute to the last family that Bucky had before she'd passed away, or the last of his direct biological family anyway.
"She gave her a beautiful name." He honestly didn't think this whole situation could hurt anymore.
"How am I gonna fix this? How can I- What if she never forgives me, Steve? What if she never lets me be a part of her life?" The words felt like they choked him.
He was unsteady on his feet. He reached out to grip the doorframe to steady himself. Steve knew that it was a legitimate question and one that he'd asked himself, one that he'd mulled over because he had no idea how Natasha was going to react once she found out. She'd be angry, she'd be angry and hurt and she'd feel betrayed and he couldn't blame her at all. They'd done the worst thing imaginable to her and because of that, she'd had to raise her child alone.
"We should've made a better choice, Buck. We should've told her, letting her think you were dead wasn't the right way to go and we both knew that then. I don't know how she's gonna be when she finds out the truth but we both know she has to. We both know it's time we stopped lying or you'll never know your daughter and I know you don't want that. You need to face whatever anger she has toward you and you need to let her work through that in her own way."
Pushing Natasha never worked out for anyone.
"She'll hate me, Steve. It's not like any other time, we've both done things like that before but this isn't like any other time. We've faked deaths, lied to each other and everyone else to get a job done but it's never been anything like this. I should've looked harder. I should've known something was wrong when you told me she'd left." Natasha was never one to run.
She'd never been one to run before. He should have known something that made her run that wasn't like anything before.
He'd really screwed up badly this time.