Coming Home
When Steve had been little, he'd caught pneumonia with alarming frequency and ease. His lungs had always been a bit useless, what with his premature birth during a time when the NICU consisted of just praying the baby didn’t die. His body didn't handle illness very well, which wasn't much of a surprise. The hardest part about getting sick was the way his body liked to swing from dangerously high fevers to disturbingly low temperatures. He'd go from burning up, shaking with febrile seizures, to shivering with chills hard enough to make his brain rattle in his skull, all within a matter of minutes.
Seeing his best friend walk through a crowded train station with his daughter strapped to his chest was a bit like that dizzying sensation of swinging from hot to cold. His brain felt muddled and his skin prickled seeing the soft blonde hair peeking from the top of the...baby carrying thingy that she was tucked into. Hot and cold flashes washed over him in succession, but instead of his lungs trying to kill him, this time it was his goddamn heart.
The organ squeezed and twisted in his chest the closer Bucky got to where he and Nat were standing in the station. Steve hadn't seen his friend look so happy as he did now--with a baby on his chest and Darcy tucked into his side--in a long damn time.
Natasha’s delicate hand squeezed his tightly as she let out a soft huff of laughter. “Crying again, luchik?”
He cut his eyes to the side to give her a glare and blinked back the tears that had indeed been gathering along the corners of his eyes. It was then that Darcy noticed Steve and Nat standing in the crowd. Her eyes lit up and she popped up on her toes to kiss Bucky on the cheek before rushing off through the crowd to make her way to them. Bucky followed behind at a slower pace, carefully picking his way through the mass of moving bodies so as not to jostle his daughter too much. With his now empty hand, he reached out to carefully take the elbow of a tall, slender woman who was shuffling along beside him.
The woman could only be Irina. Bucky had told him about the poor lady over the phone, including the recent attempt to end her own life. She certainly wasn't what Steve was expecting.
He was envisioning a small, frail, weepy woman, more of a Melanie than a Scarlett, but this woman was none of those things. Unlike the soft, short woman he'd imagined, she was all long limbs and sharp lines with curves that were more suggestions than actual sloping lines of flesh. The only thing soft about the woman was perhaps her eyes. She didn't wear the inconsolable expression he'd been expecting. There were no tears in her eyes, no brows furrowed in sorrow. She just looked like a woman who was very, very tired. Like she could sleep and sleep for days without waking and call it a win. Steve understood the feeling pretty well.
He was distracted from his thoughts about the newcomer by the rapid approach of Darcy. She slammed into him with all her strength and wrapped her arms around his middle, squeezing tight, and then snagging Natasha by the shoulder to pull her into the hug as well. Natasha reacted with one of those put upon sighs that she liked to make when she was pretending like she was above such things as human affection. It was a bald-faced lie. He knew firsthand how much she craved physical contact and human comfort, even if she wasn't willing to admit it. Not even to herself.
He had enough time to drop a kiss to the tops of both women’s heads before Darcy was stepping away and Bucky was taking her place. It was a little awkward hugging each other around the baby between their chests, but they managed alright, taking extra care not to use too much of their large reserves of physical strength. Mustn't crush the little squirt.
Speaking of which… Steve craned his head down to get a good look at the baby. Rebecca, Bucky had told him. Familiar grey eyes looked up at him and a fat little fist shot out to grasp at the drawstrings of his hoodie. “She looks like…”
“Yeah. Ma and Becca, I know,” Bucky replied, eyes glued to his daughter's face.
Steve stared hard at his oldest friend. “And you.”
Bucky’s eyes jumped up to his, and a strange smile playing over his mouth. “Yeah,” he said on a sigh.
“Oh my god, you were right.” Darcy's urgent whisper garnered the men's attention as she tugged at Bucky's jacket sleeve. “Bucky, he's doing the chin thing!” She looked at Steve with wide, deeply amused eyes.
“What chin thing?” he asked.
“The wibbly wobbly chin thing when you're trying not to cry!” Darcy practically crowed in triumph.
He folded his arms over his chest. “I do not do that.”
“Yes you do,” Bucky and Natasha replied in chorus, which only sent Darcy into a fit of giggles.
Steve's eyes narrowed. “You're drunk."
“No, she's soused,” Bucky corrected. “Border crossings involving armed guards make her a little antsy. I made the mistake of suggesting she order a couple cocktails from the dining car.”
“You Eastern Europeans sure know how to make a strong drink,” Darcy hiccuped and thumped Irina, who had been standing stiffly to the side, on the back. Irina blinked owlishly, obviously not following the English exchange, but smiled indulgently at Darcy nonetheless, patting her softly on the shoulder.
Bucky made quick introductions between Irina, Steve, and Natasha. Everyone shook hands and smiled politely at the other and tried very hard to ignore the fact that they all knew Irina had tried to take her own life the night before and that she knew that they knew. They all sidestepped the looming elephant in the train station gracefully enough and made a hasty retreat to the car that would ferry them to the private airport where the quinjet was waiting for them. Gear, luggage, and baby accoutrements had been loaded, the trunk barely closing around it all, when the adults were brought to the realization that infant car seats were a thing that existed and were necessary when one was traveling with an infant.
Bucky and Steve were not all that concerned about it, having been raised without the things and didn't see what the issue was with just holding Becca in their laps. Irina, who had been the one to bring up the lack of car seat in the first place, planted her hands on her hips and stuck one long finger in their faces, admonishing them on being irresponsible guardians and idiots for suggesting such a thing. That's what Steve was pretty sure she was saying. It was in rapid fire Russian and his Russian was passable at best.
In any case, he found himself standing in the checkout aisle of the Romanian equivalent of a Babies R Us, arms piled high with a top of the line car seat while Bucky chatted with a lady in line, presumably picking up parenting tips. Or trading bomb making recipes.
Who the fuck knew? Steve sure as hell didn't. He really needed to work on his language studies when he got back stateside.
The nice lady and her baby followed them out when they'd checked out, helping them install the contraption into the car with the ease of a veteran parent. And thank god for that. There were about forty thousand buckles and slots and who the hell knew what else. Steve would have been at a complete loss if they'd had to install the damn thing on their own.
Sweating and grunting like a pig, Steve got the last buckle snapped into place and watched as Bucky thanked the woman with a warm smile and a handshake. She made a final parting comment, her eyes dragging noticeably over Steve's body before meeting Bucky’s with a wink.
Bucky’s eyes went wide in delighted surprise before he threw his head back in laughter. He threw his arm out around Steve then, pulling him into his side and planting a smacking kiss to his cheek. He winked back at the woman, waving cheerily goodbye.
Steve pressed a stiff smile on his own face until the woman had turned and walked away with her baby propped on one hip. As soon as she'd turned away, he confronted Bucky. “What was that about?”
Bucky laughed again and pushed him in the direction of the passenger seat of the car. “Oh nothing, punk. The lady was just complimenting me on my handsome husband.”
“Your what now?”
“My husband. She assumed we were together, picking up our newly adopted child. Apparently Americans looking to adopt come through these parts fairly often. It was easier to go with it than correct her. And the look on your face was pretty priceless,” he snickered as he slid behind the steering wheel.
“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, chuckles.”
Bucky did, pulling out of the parking lot and heading back towards the train station where the ladies were camped out sipping coffee in a cafe. Except for Becca, of course, who was happily chewing on a cookie when the men rejoined them. She seemed to be thoroughly enjoying it, crumbs and soggy cookie bits all over her hands, chest, and face. Nat was holding the little girl in her lap, looking stiff and absolutely mortified at the mess.
Bucky snorted and asked, “What’s the matter, Natalia? Don't you like babies?”
She gave him a cutting smile, then softened it a little when she noticed Becca was watching her. “Babies are lovely,” she replied, lifting the girl and handing her off to her father. “From a distance. Send her back to me when she's ready to learn how to pick a lock and fire a gun.”
An idea took root in that shit-stirring part of Bucky's brain as he smiled wickedly at the redhead. “Guess that means there won't be any babies for you and Rogers then?”
Steve stiffened beside him, his eyes going wide as a blush rode high on his cheeks. Nat simply raised a single brow, her eyes darting from Steve's face to his and then down to her nails. “I'm not opposed to producing children. So long as Steve is willing to stay home with the little dears.”
“And then what? You're just not gonna hold them until they outgrow the messy phase?”
“Don't be absurd, James. Steve is a neatnik by nature. I'm sure they'll all be clean and tidy by the time I get home to tuck them into bed.”
Bucky chuckled and watched the way Steve's blush deepened over his ears. The other man attempted to look cross at the turn in conversation but he had the worst poker face and Bucky could tell he was thoroughly enjoying every single word coming out of the little spider’s mouth.
The sap.
Not that he was any better. Becca had him wrapped around her fingers after having known her for less than a week. She was sweet and fat and happy and everything you'd want in a baby. She'd started smiling when he entered the room now, reaching for him with chubby arms, her cheeks dimpling. He was such a sucker for that mostly toothless grin.
And Darcy was just as bad. Discipline was going to be damn near impossible for either of them to dispense. He'd voiced his concerns about inadvertently turning Becca into a spoiled brat to Irina. The woman had only laughed and assured him that the charm wears off after a while and the first time she tried to stick her fingers in an electrical socket, they'd figure out how to tell her “no” real fast.
***
Time and coffee worked wonders in the way of sobering Darcy up. By the time Nat was piloting the quinjet into the upper atmosphere, she was able to fully appreciate Captain America's interaction with his new niece.
It was bad. Real bad.
As soon as they'd reached altitude and Nat had switched to autopilot, Bucky had pulled Becca from her car seat, bouncing her a bit and checking her diaper before thrusting her into his friend's arms without so much as a “by your leave.” Steve's eyes had gone wide, hands gripping under Becca's armpits, arms extended out and entire body rigid. Becca had taken one look at his face and promptly burst into tears, much to Bucky’s amusement.
“What’d you do? Pinch her?” Bucky chuckled as he retrieved his thoroughly upset daughter.
Steve's lips pinched into a thin line as he gave his friend one hell of a glare. “You know I'm no good with babies, Buck. They've always hated me.”
Darcy's mouth popped open in surprise. “What? Captain America is not good with kids? Say it ain't so! You're the most dad-like of all the Avengers. This is a huge disappointment.”
“Oh he does just fine once they hit about two or three years old and get a little sturdier,” Bucky responded. “For some reason he's real tense with the little ones, and babies can sense the absolute terror coming off him. Which sends them into fits.”
Steve shrugged a shoulder. “It's true. I'm always afraid that I'm going to drop them. They can be so wiggly, you know?”
“Dude, I've seen you wrestle with the Hulk. The odds of a baby wiggling out of your grasp are slim to none,” Darcy giggled, pinching a bicep for emphasis.
“Yeah but I haven’t always been so strong,” Steve replied, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Some of those instincts have stayed with me, unfortunately.”
“Well that throws a real wrench in my plans to have you be the stay at home superparent,” Natasha commented as she made her way over to the rest of the adults. “I suppose you’ll just have to spend more time with this one until we can break you of that fear,” she practically purred, leveling a look at Steve that was not even the tiniest bit wholesome.
Darcy could only watch in delight as Steve swallowed several times in succession, a series of expressions passing over his features before he finally settled on what was a rather determined clench of his jaw, holding his arms out to take Becca from her father again.
Natasha smirked and took Darcy's hand, pulling away to leave the men to figure out babies alone. Steve looked to Bucky, still a bit perturbed by the squirming infant in his arms. Bucky rolled his eyes. “Would it make you feel safer if you sat down with her?” he asked, indicating one of the rows of seats against the edge of the aircraft. Steve nodded sharply and made a beeline for them, sitting stiffly and standing Becca up on his knees.
Bucky sank into the seat next to him, placing one hand to Steve's shoulder and the other behind his daughter’s back. “Just breathe,” he murmured.
“You talking to me or the kid?” Steve asked, glancing quickly at Bucky and then back at Becca before she could pull some kinda shenanigans and get the both of them in trouble.
“Both of you. But mostly you. Relax, Steve.”
Steve inhaled slowly, deeply and then forced the muscles of his back and shoulders to release their tension. His grip on the little girl grew a bit more natural and less like he was trying wrangle a slippery fish. Becca found this to be much more to her preferences and gifted Steve with a wide, gummy grin that made him melt a little inside.
“Jesus, Buck. You gonna buy a nunnery anytime soon? She's gonna be a knockout.”
“Nah, there'd be no point. She'd probably just end up being into dames and it'd be like unleashing a fox in a henhouse. She is a Barnes, after all.” He leaned forward and held his forefinger out for her to grab with a (slightly slobbery) tight fist.
“You make a good point,” Steve chuckled.
They sat quietly for a while as Steve continued to acclimate himself to holding an infant. Sitting definitely helped. He felt like the distance to the ground was probably not enough to cause more than a bit of a bump if the worst happened and he dropped her. Having Bucky, and his lightning fast reflexes, near helped quite a bit too. Eventually he was able to relax enough to gently bounce the babe on his knee, leaving his mind free to wander. There was something he had been wanting to say to his friend since he’d come back with Darcy from the Allegheny’s. He was chewing on how to get the words out properly when Bucky cleared his throat.
“Just spit it out punk. I know there's something on your mind.”
“Yeah. Well,” Steve cleared his throat a couple times before continuing. “It's just that...you're different now. More like yourself than I've seen since, I dunno, maybe since before the war. You're so much better than you were when I left you with Darcy.” He said it almost like a question, curiosity gleaming from his honest blue eyes.
Bucky took a breath and let it out slowly, thinking back those six months and how uncomfortable he'd felt in his own skin. He tried to think what exactly it was that had sparked such a change in him. “I...I feel different. Better. Between Darcy and her family and even having Becca...I don't know how to describe it other than they've given me a sense of peace back. I don't feel like a stranger in my own head and body anymore. I'm more in control without the need to actively seek control. I dunno. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah. Yeah it does. I'm happy for you.” Steve's smile was soft and if his eyes were a little damp, they both decided to ignore it.
Bucky's returning smile was equally tender as he bumped his shoulder into Steve's. “Good news is, I should be cleared to start going on missions with the rest of the team.”
“Yeah...about that.” Steve shifted uncomfortably in his seat and Bucky fixed him with a hard stare.
“What? You don't think I can do it?” he asked, somewhat indignant.
“No, that's not what I'm saying Buck,” Steve replied, trying to placate his friend. “I'm just wondering why you want to go with us. You got a kid now. And Darcy.”
“Yeah and I've also got seventy years worth of Hydra shit that I have to make up for,” he said through gritted teeth.
Steve sighed. “Bucky, are you wanting to atone for what they made you do… or are you wanting to get revenge?”
Bucky opened his mouth, prepared with a sharp retort, but paused, his thoughts lingering on Steve's words. Finally, his shoulders loosened and slumped with a sigh. “I don't know. Maybe. I don't feel like I’m solely responsible for all the death I caused anymore. I'll always feel a little guilty, but not like...before. So yeah, maybe I do want to burn the bastards for everything they took from me. Is revenge such a terrible thing?”
Steve was slow to answer. “Nooooo, not necessarily. But...have you ever thought that maybe the best way for you to get revenge is to go live the life that they took from you in the first place? The life you wanted when we were young? Marry your sweetheart. Settle down. Make a bunch of babies and have cookouts and all that.”
“You think all of that is even possible for someone like me?” he snorted. “Look Steve, all else being equal, I've got skills that the team could use. What kind of man would I be if I let my friends run into the thick of danger while I’m sitting pretty at home when I know I can help?”
“You wouldn’t have to retire from the life completely. There’s enough of us on the team that we could handle most missions without you...but you could still help us on occasion. When we need the backup or in a consulting capacity? It'd keep you on the Stark payroll without being on the Avengers starting lineup and all the dangers that come with that.” Steve shrugged his shoulders. “Just think about it?”
Bucky pinched his lips together but eventually nodded. “Yeah alright, I’ll think about it. And I want to talk it over with Darcy and get her opinion on it.”
Steve smiled brightly, confident that he'd already won Bucky over. “You do that,” he said, patting him on the knee. “And for the record, yes, I really do think those things are possible for you.”
***
The return home, as is usually the case, seemed to pass so much faster than the journey to Romania. Bucky was thoroughly surprised to find the entire team waiting in the landing bay when the jet finally touched down. He'd expected Sam and possibly Bruce would be waiting for them but no, the whole gang was there. There was a feeling of anticipation that seemed to still the bodies waiting outside the jet as the loading ramp lowered.
Steve was the first to step out, followed by Natasha and Irina, with Bucky and his girls bringing up the rear. As Bucky's heavy boots clanged against the ramp, every eye snapped to the sleeping bundle curled against his chest.
It was Pepper, bless that lady, who finally stepped forward and cut the silence and tension in the room. “James,” she greeted warmly. “I know it's been a long journey for you and the little one. I hope I haven't overstepped, but I've arranged one of the suites on the Avengers residential floor to accommodate you and Darcy, along with a nursery for your daughter. If you've no pressing medical concerns, I would love to direct you to your suite so you can get some rest?”
“Yes, thank you, that would be wonderful. Thank you, Pepper,” he sighed in relief, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of the last few weeks finally settle over him all at once. Darcy seemed to be feeling the same as she sagged heavily against him.
Bucky noticed Bruce discreetly make his way to Irina, using Natasha as an interpreter before gently guiding her to what was most likely the medical wing. Irina turned to Bucky, eyes wide in mild alarm. “You’ll come get me when Rybka wakes to nurse? Please?”
Bucky stepped forward, placing a calming hand to the center of her back, rubbing gentle circles. “Yes, yes of course. This isn't another prison. Dr. Banner is a good man, he will make sure you're well taken care of and he’ll personally escort you to our...suite, whenever she wakes.” He leveled a look at Bruce and relayed his message in English.
Bruce nodded and folded his arms around himself. “Of course. Of course,” he muttered in his characteristically soft voice. He held a hand out and jerked his head to the side, indicating for Irina to follow. She glanced one last time at Bucky and then kissed Rebecca on a rosy cheek before following Bruce towards the elevators.
What Pepper had called a “suite” looked more like a damn palace, in Bucky's poor, Brooklyn boy opinion. The apartment was huge, with not one but two living areas, a formal dining area, a kitchen that would have made his Ma cry, a master bedroom and bath that was fit for a king, two guest bedrooms, and the most exquisitely decorated nursery he'd ever seen. Pepper Potts put that Hydra interior decorator to shame, and probably spent a small fortune on the whole apartment, if not the nursery itself.
Their disbelief must have shown on their faces as they settled Rebecca into her new bed, closing the door softly behind them. Pepper smiled widely, a slight blush rising on her cheeks. “I, ahem, may have gotten somewhat carried away with the nursery,” she said, waving a delicate hand somewhat awkwardly in front of her.
Darcy smiled wide, her eyes crinkling with mischief. “Oh noooo, I mean, what baby wouldn't want a crystal chandelier--that likely cost more than my entire college education--in their bedroom?” Darcy teased, tucking her hand into Pepper’s elbow, squeezing lightly and leading her towards the front door.
Pepper gave a lovely, full tinkling laugh and patted the tops of Darcy's knuckles. “Yes, well, anything for family.”
Darcy paused at the sincerity in her boss/style icon/girl-crush/friend’s voice. “Aww Pepper, I didn't realize you saw us that way. I take back my snarky comment.”
Pepper glanced to the floor and then back at Darcy and then finally settled on Bucky who stood nearby. “We all have had so much taken from us, and yet here we all are. We've all found each other, and--despite those who would seek to tear us apart--we are family. We've gone through too much, fought too hard for each other, to be anything else.”
Darcy was astonished to see the normally pristine woman start to tear up, her nose turning bright pink as a few tears spilled over onto her cheeks. Damn, Pepper was even a pretty crier. Darcy pulled her into her arms, wrapping her up tight. “Yes we are, Pepper. You are so stinking right, we are.”
Pepper gave a slight hiccup and pulled from her embrace, swiping delicate fingers under her eyes to remove the tears, not a trace of ruined mascara in sight. “I'm so sorry about all this,” she laughed, waving a hand vaguely in front of her face. “Not sure what came over me.”
“You're probably overworked from giving us the most baller status apartment I've ever seen in my life. Really, Pepper, it’s gorgeous and I want to live here forever.”
“Well, I had hoped that you would both consider living here permanently. After the attempt on your life at your apartment and subsequent bugout, I would feel so much better knowing you were safe under our roof. No rush on a decision, just know that it's an option if you are interested.” Pepper smiled at Darcy's awestruck face, leaning in to buss a kiss to her cheek in a very posh fashion. “In any case, I should be going. You both look like you could sleep for a week.”
With that she made her goodbyes and Darcy and Bucky decided that a hot shower was required before bed. If they happened to make good use of the marble bench that lined one wall of the shower, then who could blame them? They may have been exhausted, but the slick slide of their bodies together under the shower spray was soothing in an affirming, bone-deep way that they'd both greatly needed.
Still, it was with great relief when they crawled into bed together, curling around each other and succumbing to sleep as soon as their heads hit their pillows.