Nothing in this story makes sense, but it’s designed to make me feel better after Endgame and I hope it does so for you too.
Teenage Kicks
By Demented Pixie
Part of The 'Adopting Bucky' Writing Challenge.
******
“I told you to tidy your room,” yelled Steve, as Bucky, six foot of moody, brooding, whirlwind, stormed through the apartment to his room, slamming the door behind him and causing Steve’s shield to fall to the floor. Not for the first time.
“God dammit,” muttered Steve, moving to pick the shield up and replace it on its hook.
“I warned you the single hook wasn’t going to be enough,” commented Peggy, as she straightened the wine glasses that had teetered towards the edge of the kitchen shelf in the wake of the Bucky blast.
“It’s more than enough for any normal situation.” Steve gestured towards the closed bedroom door. “That boy has way too much excess energy.”
“Did you take him out for a run this morning?” Peggy walked around the kitchen counter and put her arms around Steve’s neck, grounding him in a much-needed calming hug.
Steve had the good grace to look sheepish. “No. And I know that’s what we agreed.”
“We always knew this was going to be hard. Bucky is such a special boy.”
“I know.”
“Let alone a handful as a teenager.”
“Yes, Peg.”
“And you really need to practise a little of your famed Captain American patience,” she concluded, smiling up at him, her eyes sparkling.
Steve ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I’ll go talk to him.”
It had been ten years since Steve and Peggy had adopted Bucky. Time travel was a crazily confusing thing to navigate and Steve certainly had his share of problems to overcome once he arrived back in the alternate timeline. He had taken care to ensure that Peggy wasn’t dating, or even perhaps married, before arriving in her office one sunny August day. Considering the somewhat unbelievable nature of the situation, she handled it really well. The man she had carried a torch for all these years was back, had not died in the ice in the War, and was down on one knee asking her to marry him. It was hardly a surprise when she sobbed and replied, “Yes, you idiot. Of course. Yes.”
It had been an almost instant agreement between them both that Bucky would be in their lives, somehow, and Steve was determined to take steps to prevent Bucky from being captured and tortured by Hydra. He used one of his Pym capsules to travel back to a time before the War and returned with a chubby, confused, wide eyed child in his arms. For Peggy, it had been love at first sight, and the beautiful boy that was James Buchanan Barnes quickly became the centre of their world.
“Bucky?” Steve tapped lightly on the door and waited for the usual grunted reply. He’d learnt a few years back not to just walk in on a teenage boy unannounced. The memory of the day he did still gave him nightmares.
“Hmmm?”
That was enough of an invitation. Tentatively, Steve turned the handle and peered around the door.
“You okay, Buck?”
Bucky didn’t look okay. He was sat on his bed, elbows on knees, head down, staring at the floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.
Steve smoothed out the Spiderman bedspread and sat down next to him, carefully keeping a respectful distance between them.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asked, leaning forward slightly to try to see under the long unruly hair that was hiding Bucky’s face.
Bucky turned slightly away from him. “You’ll be mad,” he mumbled.
“We’ve had this discussion before,” said Steve, softly. “The only thing I’ll ever be mad about is if you lie to me. Everything else, well, we can deal with it. I’ll always listen. I’ll never judge.”
Slowly, Bucky straightened up a little and turned his face towards Steve. The bruising under his left eye was already turning purple, and Steve gasped as he reached to push Bucky’s hair back.
“That’s some shiner,” he said, visibly squashing the rising emotions as he took in the mess that someone had made of Bucky’s face.
“It was my fault,” said Bucky, lifting his chin in defiance.
“Okay. Well maybe you better tell me a bit more.”
******
“I don’t understand why I can’t come with you.”
Peggy had emptied her handbag out onto the counter top and was in the process of replacing the items she was going to need, rather than the many things she didn’t.
“You and I both know that I’m better at this kind of thing.”
“I can handle teachers.”
“No, Steve, darling. You can’t. Not without wanting to hit them. If we’re going to get this resolved then you need to let me attend the meeting with The Principal on my own.”
Peggy flipped the lid of her compact and began to refresh her deep red lipstick.
“You remember everything he told us?”
“Yes, darling, I remember. He was protecting another boy in his class who is being bullied, when the bully’s friends turned on him.”
“It was four to one, Peg!”
“Yes, four to one. I do have all the details, Steve, I promise.”
“I’m not sending him back, not until they do something about this.”
Peggy put the lid back on her lipstick and slipped it into the bag, before patting Steve on the shoulder.
“Leave it to me, dear. I will resolve this. You know I will.”
Steve looked at her, noting the determined jut of her chin and the glint of steel in her eyes. It made him relax, and he gifted her with a sunshine smile.
“What?” she asked, amused.
“I don’t really understand how he’s taken after the both of us, when he’s not really ours.”
“Oh, Steve,” she replied, softly. “He has always been ours.”
******
“In my day we’d have used a raw steak, if we could get our hands on one.” Steve carefully wrapped the bag of frozen peas in a clean dishcloth and pressed it, gently, onto Bucky’s face.
Bucky fidgeted slightly, wincing at the unwelcome cold.
“When, exactly, was ‘your day’?” he asked, tentatively.
“Oh Buck, you know the answer to that,” replied Steve, concentrating on treating the dark bruise and carefully avoiding looking directly at Bucky.
“No. I don’t, really. Sometimes you say things, and I… I don’t understand. And you never really… answer me.”
“I do!”
“You don’t. You’re doing it now. Avoiding me.” Bucky worried his bottom lip, evidently afraid that he had said too much.
Steve sighed, then seemed to make some kind of inner decision. He took Bucky’s hand in his and handed over the frozen package, leaving it to Bucky to deal with it himself. He watched for a few minutes to make sure Bucky had got the hang of pressing the compress to his eye, and then stood up, walking over to the dresser.
Bucky gazed up through his one open eye as Steve pulled a sketchbook from the dresser drawer. There was a moments hesitation, then Steve returned with the book, sitting down next to Bucky once again.
“There are going to be things that you might not believe,” began Steve, quietly. “And I’m worried that I should wait for your Mother to come home. But… you deserve to know a few things. The truth.”
Bucky removed the cold compress for a moment, so he could look at Steve properly. “The only thing I’ll ever be mad about is if you lie to me,” he said, seriously. “Everything else, we can deal with it. I’ll always listen. I’ll never judge.”
Steve’s face broke into a wide smile, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“Thank you, Buck,” he said, opening the sketchbook and looking at the first drawing. “I promise I’ll never lie to you.” He reached up to encourage Bucky to return the compress to his eye then turned the sketchbook so that Bucky could see it.
He took a deep breath. “A long time ago, before the Second World War, there were two boys who lived in Brooklyn…”