In Color
Peter had never really looked at the pictures on Bucky's nightstand.
He knew Steve's pictures: A picture of him and Bucky during the war, a picture of his mom and, in the drawer, a picture of Peggy Carter. It hurt Steve to look at that picture, Peter knew it.
But he hadn't ever looked at Bucky's pictures. I mean, really looked.
Tony had reprinted all of Steve and Bucky's photos from before and during the war. He digitally remastered them and they were clearer than before. Peter remembered Tony offered to color them, but the two soldiers had declined, "It wouldn't be the same," Steve had said.
Bucky walked in the room with a laundry basket as Peter studied the first picture. A boy about Peter's age stood with a young girl, who looked about 7. Behind them, a hundred-year-old New York City bustled around them, "What's up, Pete?"
Peter pointed to the boy, "Is that you?"
A soft smile crept on to Bucky's face, "Yeah. I was probably 15. There was a guy down the block from my house who was taking pictures for about $5. I remember I saved up for weeks to get one." Bucky sat on the bed and took the photo in his hands. He took a minute, then pointed to the girl, "That's my baby sister, Rebecca," Bucky let out a chuckle, "I remember she dragged me all over the street that day. She wanted to look at every shop, every booth." He smiled and looked at the photo sadly, "I miss her every day."
Peter grabbed the next picture from off of the nightstand. Bucky stiffened for a minute and opened his mouth to speak, but Peter beat him to it, "The Howling Commandos!" He said to no one in particular, in an awed voice.
Bucky chuckled, "Yes, sir. A bunch of idiot former POWs thinking we were single-handedly going to end the war." He said, laughing at the thought, "Good guys."
Peter studied the photo. 8 men in gray uniforms sat stiffly. In the middle of the back row, Captain American stood boldly. Bucky stood proudly next to his friend. Peter couldn't help but notice the wary look on the face of each of the men. He shifted closer to Bucky, "What was it like?"
Bucky sighed and took a minute, "Wild. The best and the worst time of my life. For the first time, I felt like I was a part of something bigger; like I was a part of a movement that was going to change the world." He paused, "But if it looks like we were scared to death, you should've seen it in color. We were just a bunch of kids trying to watch each other's backs." He pointed to Steve, "And your Pops acted like a dumbass the entire time." He said, poking Peter in the side. Peter giggled.
Finally, Peter picked up the last one. It was only a few years old, Peter knew it like the back of his hand. It was in color, taken on a digital camera.
It was Bucky and Steve, all dressed up in tuxes. Steve had a rose pinned to his suit. Tony, Clint, and Sam stood off the to the left, also dressed up. Steve's arms were wrapped around Bucky's waist and Bucky's hands tugged at Steve's lapels, locking him in a kiss. The small group was clapping.
Peter knew that picture because he was the one who had taken it. Bucky smiled, wrapping his arm around Peter, "This one is my favorite one. I would remember it even if it was in black and white. I would remember the color of his eyes, the rose on his suit. I'll never forget how he smiled as we read our vows." He tapped the glass in front of the photo, "That's the story of my life. That's what I'll remember." He kissed Peter head, stood, and began to fold the laundry as though nothing had happened.
For a former assassin, Bucky sure was a deep sleeper.
He didn't hear when Peter tiptoed across the floor a few days later, placed the frame, and closed the door behind him.
Bucky woke up with his head on Steve's chest. He blinked his bleary eyes open and cast a look at the pictures on his nightstand.
Rebecca, the Commandos, Steve...and a new one.
Bucky sat up and pulled the new frame off the nightstand, studying it.
Tony- no, Clint had taken this picture. It was the day the adoption went through. Steve and Bucky sat on either side of Peter, still dressed in the clothes they wore to court. Bucky was laughing, his hand curled in Peter's hair. Steve had a bright smile on his face. His eyes were closed and his forehead was pressed to the top of Peter's head. Peter was smiling so big that his eyes were closed too. His nose was crinkled in a laugh; Bucky could practically hear it.
Bucky felt Steve shift, sit up, and run a soft hand down Bucky's shoulder. He chastely kissed Bucky's neck and looked at the photo, "That's a good one." He said, his voice rough with sleep.
Bucky nodded and leaned back into Steve's chest, "Yeah. It is."