Pretty in Pink

Greenish-gray clouds hung low over the lake where Bucky and George Barnes had taken their weekend fishing trip.

“We better get home before the storm comes or your mother’ll never let me hear the end of it.”, George packed up the tackle box and put their fishing rods in the back of his small truck. Bucky, disappointed that their trip had been cut short, assisted his father in putting everything away without complaint.

The rain came down hard, pelting the windshield loudly as George drove carefully. Thunder rolled above them menacingly, lightning flashed before them, breaking up the darkness for half a second.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon.”, George’s kind smile and easy tone relaxed Bucky. He’d never been a fan of the rain and his father knew the eleven-year-old boy had always been terrified of thunder.

Bucky wanted to listen to the radio, but didn’t want to distract his father from the road. The wind had picked up considerably and he could tell George was worried by the tense expression on his face. Their truck was old - it belonged to Bucky’s grandfather - and George didn’t know if it would be able to handle the quickly rising water. Still, even with the threat of an accident, George tried to keep Bucky calm as he moved around in his seat nervously.

“Just a little rain, kid. Don’t be sad, we’ll try again next weekend. Still wanna catch that bass in the middle of the lake.”

Bucky smiled. The enormous bass in the middle of the lake had evaded many a fisherman for years, but his father was determined to be the one to catch it.

“Okay, dad.”

The windshield wipers fought against the rain valiantly in an effort to help George see the road. Well, the road that was submerged under six inches of rain water. Other cars passed them on the road every once in a while. They all drive slowly, knowing they could hydroplane at any moment. The wind and the rain would toss a car around like a toy without any struggle.

Night came, darkening their surroundings further, and the truck headlights didn’t do much against the heavy rain.

“Almost home, kid.”, George said. Bucky knew it wasn’t true. He knew the way home like the back of his hand and they’d barely passed the halfway point. Nonetheless, he nodded and hummed in affirmation.

Distant headlights were coming far to fast from the other side of the road. George and Bucky were between the oncoming lane and a steep drop off.

“Damn kids don’t know how to drive.”, George’s hands tensed on the wheel. Bucky looked to the fast-approaching headlights, then to his father. George always knew what to do, demonstrating as much when he carefully distanced them from the oncoming car and safely passing by it without falling from the drop off. They got back on the road and continued on their way.

A loud clap of thunder tore through the air and shook the ground. Bucky flinched, looking out the window at the thick darkness outside.

Their little truck began to lose its fight against the flood. It was pushed around the road like a child’s toy boat in a bathtub. It was then that Bucky saw his father begin to lose his grip.

“I’m gonna try to stop for a minute. See if it lightens up some.”

It was far too late to stop the truck. It drifted along with the water slowly. A loud honk from a semi-truck coming toward them was their doom. Bright headlights coming around the corner was all they saw before the truck flipped.

The next thing Bucky knew, the roof of the truck was beneath him, he was caught up in the, seatbelt, and he couldn’t feel the left side of his body.

“Dad! Dad? Dad, where are you?”, he called out, but he didn’t get a response. He felt little pinpricks on his face and something warm draining down his neck.

“Kid! Hey, are you alive? Are you alright?”

Someone outside the car, someone he didn’t recognize, was calling for him. He wanted to stay quiet, but he wanted to know where his dad was even more.

“Where’s my dad?”, he cried out, his heart pounding in his chest.

Suddenly, there were flashing lights and sirens. The door was torn off the truck, the seatbelt was cut away, but they couldn’t take him out. He heard the paramedics and firefighters talking.

“His arm is pinned against the seat and the rear door. It’s digging into his arm, we can’t get him out without causing further damage.”

They came up with the brilliant idea to cut away what they could, leaving a few long pieces of the truck door sticking out of his arm. They pulled him gently from the truck and Bucky could finally see what was going on.

“Where’s my dad?”, he asked again and again and again.

“Come with me.”, a woman said, directing him to one of the ambulances. Bucky looked back and saw the truck in tatters. His grandpa’s truck that he loved so much was nothing more than a pile of scrap metal now.

“Dad! Dad!”, he called out, fighting against the woman. Then, he stilled. He saw the stretcher and the body bag being lifted into the second ambulance.

“Come on, we have to get you to the hospital.”, the woman beckoned him.

Bucky went without resistance. He rode to the hospital, staring at the doors of the ambulance. His mother was at the hospital - Bucky have them her number in a monotone voice with glazed over eyes. She was a mess, seeing her son in such a state. Covered in cuts and bruises, then seeing his arm torn to hell.

“Ma’am, he needs to go into surgery immediately.”, Bucky heard the doctor say and Winifred clutched to his shirt. They pulled Bucky away from her, he could hear her calling to him as he got farther and farther away.

Bucky woke up several hours later to the sound of muffled voices outside his room in the hospital. Through the window in the door, he could see his mother had been crying. The doctor was explaining something to her with a dull, sorrowful expression.

“He didn’t make it.”, he heard the doctor say. He was old enough to know what that meant. The words settled into his gut and he kept them there. They burned like acid, but now wasn’t the time to cry. He went to wipe the tears falling down his left cheek, but nothing happened. He looked down at where his arm had been the last time he checked and was stunned to find just his bandaged shoulder. Now he really wanted to cry out for his mother, but he needed to be strong for her. She’d just lost her husband, after all.

Once they noticed Bucky moving around in the hospital bed, the room was flooded with doctors and nurses. They checked his vitals, his stitches, for internal bleeding, and found him to be perfectly fine.

“You’re lucky to be alive, son.”, the doctor patted him gently on the back. Bucky didn’t say anything in return. He stared at the pink blanket on his lap.

Winifred was by his side shortly after they all left. She held his right hand tight, her eyes were red and puffy, but her smile was bright and warm.

“My darling, are you okay? I’m so happy you’re alright. I was so worried.”

Bucky hugged her as best he could with one arm. He blinked away tears welling in his eyes as his mother murmured things in his ear, oblivious to her son’s turmoil.

It all came barreling back at him at once. The rain. The headlights. The hill. The truck. The sirens. The body bag.

—

Bucky shot up in bed, gasping for air and his heart threatening to fly out of his chest. His hands were balled into fists in the blankets and he tried to rid himself of the memories by harshly rubbing his eyes.

“Bucky, honey, what’s wrong?”

Tony’s voice broke up the faint memory of the sirens and the hospital.

“Nothing, baby. Just had a bad dream.”, he laid back down and reassumed his position as Tony’s pillow.

“Is it the same one you had last night?”, Tony spoke softly, trying to sooth the tension out of his boyfriend’s system.

“Yeah.”, Bucky answered dryly, staring up at the ceiling.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”, Tony asked.

“No.”

His voice was slow, but sharp enough that Tony knew not to press further.

“Okay, tesoro.”

Tony settled back into Bucky’s side, resting his head on his shoulder. ‘The good shoulder’ Bucky called it, to which Tony would berate him and explain that Bucky’s arm was a magnificent piece of art, not just a piece of machinery that gave Bucky an unsteady, albeit sexy, swagger.

“Though Hammer Tech is actual trash, they did pretty good on their prosthetics, I’ll give them that.”, Tony would say.

Bucky couldn’t fall asleep again that night. Morning, rather. He watched the sunrise breach the horizon, casting pinks and oranges over the skyline.

—

“Dammit, Anthony! I’m sick and tired of finding your childish projects all over my damn desk.”, Howard tossed blueprints aside without giving them a second glance.

“Sorry, sir.”, Tony picked them up and put them away in his bag.

“You should be doing the work I told you to do. When you run Stark Interprises one day, you can’t fuck around like this. Jesus, maybe you shouldn’t run it at all. If you’re still acting like this now, you’ll never grow up. You’ll always be a fucking child.”

The stench of hard liquor permeated throughout the office. Tony knew what would happen next and braced for impact.

Howard stopped in front of Tony, raised his hand, and hit him across the face hard enough that Tony tasted blood in his mouth.

“You’re worthless. If I’ve ever taught you one thing, let it be that you’re a piss-poor excuse for a son and you’re as weak as your mother.”, he spat. Tony tensed again as Howard punches him in the jaw, knocking him to the ground. He got a couple good kicks to Tony’s stomach before he marched out of his office.

Fortunately, most of the employees had gone home for the night, so Tony was free to walk to his car without being asked about his beaten, bloodied, and bruised face.

—

Bucky plopped down on the couch after he got home from work. He was still shaken from his dream the night before.

Since his father passed away, Bucky was shouldered with responsibilities far too complex for an eleven-year old. Raising two younger sisters while the oldest one went to friends and substance instead of family to mend a broken heart. Picking up odd jobs to earn extra money while his, newly, single mother worked her ass off as a nurse. Still filling childish obligations to hang out with friends on the weekends after finding a suitable babysitter for his sisters. Promising said babysitter to do housework as payment for their time and generosity.

His friends had no idea, not even Steve. He knew Bucky’s father died, but not what it entailed. Steve didn’t know any better because he’d never had a father in the first place. So, he didn’t think twice before picking a fight with the biggest kid on the playground and Bucky having to come to his rescue before he got the dogshit beat out of him. He never noticed that Bucky had gotten slower with his punches and that he wasn’t as quick to dodge. Nobody knew how tired he was.

As the man of the house, Bucky knew he had to take care of his family and keep taking care of his friends. It’s what his father would have wanted him to do. He shouldered the expectations of a dead man without a second thought, as it was surely his family expected of him.

That’s who Bucky was, or who he made himself to be. The big brother, the best friend, the caregiver, the protector, the provider, the good son.

Bucky felt selfish when he, in his lower moments, was resentful toward his father for dying. How dare he leave Bucky with so much to do and learn with no time to figure it out first? How dare he leave Winifred with four children and no time to be with them? How dare he leave them to barely scrape by for years to come? George got the better end of the deal, Bucky was convinced.

—

Tony opened the door of the apartment slowly. Usually, when Tony would see Bucky was already home, he’d greet his boyfriend cheerfully and follow it with a kiss. Today, however, when he saw Bucky watching tv, he passed him by in favor of their bedroom. Bucky followed, he always did, and asked if something was wrong.

“No, I’m fine.”

Then Bucky took a closer look at Tony’s face.

“Fine my ass. I’ll get you an ice pack.”

Tony had explained to Bucky, in great detail, why Howard would get away with years of domestic abuse. He had the money, the lawyers, and the friends that were willing to lie for him. Compared to Howard, Tony was dirt poor and couldn’t afford the support Howard could get so easily.

Bucky helped Tony out of his clothes, as they had dried blood on them. Tony took one of Bucky’s t-shirts and forewent pants altogether.

“Let’s just lay down.”, Tony sounded exhausted and Bucky had no doubt that he was.

“Okay, doll.”

With Bucky’s back against the headboard and Tony resting comfortably against his chest, Bucky couldn’t relax like he usually could. He was beyond infuriated and, if it wouldn’t be at Tony’s expense, he’d find Howard and rock his shit for all he’d done to his own son.

Bucky noticed Tony start to slip. He’d heard the term before, but didn’t exactly know what it meant. Tony started to shake, just barely, but it was noticeable to Bucky. His quickened breathing brushed against Bucky’s chest.

“Shh, baby, you’re okay.”, Bucky soothed him. His silky smooth voice working its slow kind of magic.

“He told me I’m worthless.”, Tony’s voice was so small and quiet, barely above a whisper.

“You’re not worthless, baby.”

There was so much more Bucky wanted to say regarding Howard’s comments. Tony didn’t want to - didn’t need to - hear it, though. He needed reassurance and Bucky could give it in spades.

“You’re important, Tony. You’re amazing and smart and funny and you mean so much to me, baby.”, he spoke slowly as he rubbed gentle circles into Tony’s back.

“He said I’m weak like my mom.”

That was a new one. Bucky had never heard that one before. He wasn’t sure how to approach it, so he got as vague as he could without seeming careless.

“You’re not weak. You’re stronger than anybody I know.”

“I can’t help her, Bucky. She’s stuck there with him and she’s alone now.”, Tony voice shook and he grabbed a fistful of Bucky’s shirt.

“Doll-“

“Before I left, I could distract him from my mom. He’d hit me and she’d be fine. Now, she’s all he’s got to take out his anger.”, Tony continued.

“Baby-“

“I left her there.”

The first whimper had Bucky at a loss.

“Shh, Tony, it’s okay.”

It wasn’t. It was the furthest thing from okay.

The night passed slowly. Bucky grappled for things to say that would make Tony feel better. Sleep came with some difficulty for both of them.

Bucky kept having nightmares, so he gave up and settled to watch over Tony as he slept.

He’d failed the simple task to make Tony feel better. Tony had ended up crying so hard he tired himself out and fell asleep. Bucky was helpless, he could only watch as his words fell on deaf ears.

—

The next day, they both sat surrounded by the background noise of the tv. Tony still held an ice pack to his jaw and Bucky gnawed at the side of his thumb - a nervous habit he’d had since he was a child.

Bucky’s phone rang and he jumped at the interruption of his long train of thought.

“Hello?”, he answered.

“Hello, sweetheart. When am I going to meet this boy?”, Winifred asked bluntly.

“Ma, what are you talkin’ about?”

“The boy you told me about at Christmas. You said I would meet him. That was a month ago, James.”, she chided like the loving mother she was.

“I- Well...”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll meet him when I come to visit.”, she said lightly.

“When will that be?”, Bucky asked.

“In about fifteen minutes.”

“What? Ma-“

“Goodbye, James.”

Bucky put his phone down, still not convinced that the conversation he just had was real.

“Is everything alright?”, Tony asked from behind his ice pack.

Bucky began to panic. Tony would freak out if he knew his mom was coming to visit. There was nothing he could do about it, though. If Winifred Barnes wanted something, there was no stopping her.

“My ma’s comin’ to visit. I can try to tell her to come another time.”, Bucky tried. He was surprised when Tony broke into huge smile and got up from where he sat on the couch.

“No, she can come.”, he called as he hurried to the bedroom, presumably to change out of his pajamas. He followed Tony to change, as well.

Once he was dressed, Tony assessed the bruises on his face. He got some foundation, concealer, and a bit of color corrector to even things out a bit.

“How do I look?”, Tony asked, turning away from his little mirror.

“Great, like you always do.”, Bucky planted a sloppy kiss on Tony’s temple.

Knocking on the door caught Bucky’s attention. He went to answer it, opening the door cautiously for some reason.

“Hello, James.”

“Hi, ma.”

Winifred hugged her only son tight enough that Bucky struggled to breath.

“This is a nice place.”, Winifred looked around.

“Yeah, it used to be Tony’s mom’s place.”, he said.

“Tony? Is that his name?”, she elbowed him playfully.

“Yeah. He should be out in a-“

“Mrs. Barnes?”, Tony appeared at the end of the hallway. If Bucky hadn’t known any better, he would have never knows that minutes prior, Tony’s face was covered in bruises.

“Are you Tony? Oh, James, you got a cute one.”, she went to Tony and gave him a hug.

“Ma!”

“What? I’m just saying.”, Winifred shrugged. Bucky’s cheeks were burning red and he pinched the bridge of his nose to try and hide it.

“Can I get you something to drink? Are you hungry? I would have prepared something, but I didn’t know we’d be having company.”, Tony fretted adorably. Well, Bucky thought it was adorable.

“No, love, I’m fine. I just came to talk to my son who never calls me.”, she turned to Bucky and gave him a look.

“Ma, I called you two days ago. We talked for two hours”

“A lot has happened in two days. I bet you didn’t know Rebecca is having another baby. Or that Elizabeth met a boy.”, she arched an eyebrow.

“Who’s Rebecca?”, Tony asked. Winifred looked at him sharply, then to Bucky again.

“You never told him about your sisters?”

“He knows I have sisters.”, Bucky furrowed his brow.

“No, I know you have one sister. I’ve heard you talk about Lizzie.”

“He has three sisters. The oldest is Rebecca, she’s a teacher. She’s married to a wonderful man and has two children - another one on the way...”

Tony and Winifred sat on the couch and talked for most of the day, mostly about Bucky. Winifred told Tony about his family, conveniently leaving out George and how he died. Bucky sat in the armchair and listened, messing with his phone as he did so.

Suddenly, Tony’s phone began to ring. As soon as he answered, his mother’s voice came from the other end in rapid fire Italian. Tony’s face went through a series of expressions before he jumped up from the couch.

“Okay, mom, I’ll be there.”, he put his phone in his pocket and went to get his jacket.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Barnes. I’ve got to go. It was lovely to meet you.”

“Don’t worry about it, love.”, she waved away his concern.

“Goodbye, Mrs. Barnes. Bye, Bucky.”, he kissed Bucky on the top of his head as he passed by to the door.

“Bye, Tony.”

The door closed and Winifred’s smile melted from her face and she turned slowly to Bucky. Bucky had seen that face before, but he had no idea why she was using it toward him.

“What’s wrong, ma?”, he asked.

“Why is he hurt like that?”, she asked in a cutting tone.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play like you don’t know what I’m talking about, James. I’ve been a nurse for too long to miss abuse when I see it. I can see through the makeup on his face and when I hugged him, he flinched away. I saw how his lip was swollen, too.”, her words were sharp like knives. She was looking into his very soul, furious at the thought of her own son abusing his boyfriend.

“It’s not what you think.”

“Then enlighten me.”

“His dad is the abusive one. He’s beaten Tony since he was a kid.”

“You know this and you haven’t done anything about it?”, her brow tightened and she leaned forward a little.

“Ma, he’s Howard Stark. CEO of Stark Interprises. If someone tried to do anything about it, the allegations would just be swept under the rug. Nobody can touch him. Tony’s already explained it to me.”

Winifred leaned back against the couch and huffed. As much as she despised parents who had the nerve to lay their hands on their children with violent intent, she was also familiar with how often it was overlooked by the police and everyone else. Tony was just another case of some rich bastard that thought he could do whatever he wanted, and he could because he had the funds to support a team in his defense.

“You take care of him. I’m sure he’s spent his whole life questioning people’s love towards him. It’s a side effect of abuse. You better not ever let him question yours.”, she pointed at him.

“I’m doing my best, ma.”

That was Bucky. The big brother, the best friend, the caregiver, the protector, the provider, the good son, and the good boyfriend.

—

Tony got to the mansion shortly after Maria called him. When he saw her, she was just as emotionally confused and compromised as her son.

“He’s dead. Caro mio, he’s dead.”, she ran to him, wrapping her arms around him. His ribs cried out against her weight ramming into them, but Tony didn’t mind.

“How?”

“He went out last night. He was drunk, but he tried to drive home anyway. They found him on the side of the road this morning. He ran off the road and crashed into some trees. He’s gone, Anthony, he’s dead.”