Chapter 5
Snow was coming down pretty hard in mid-December; it seemed that it had finally gotten cold enough that the stuff was sticking around for longer than an hour or two, and Kate was looking forward to getting inside, discarding her soggy sneakers and pants, and curling up on the sofa with a cup of hot chocolate and a movie or two. It was Friday, the beginning of Christmas break, and she was going to enjoy it no matter what.
It was quiet in the building as she made her way up to the apartment she shared with Clint. She slid her key into the lock and walked inside, most of her attention on her cell phone as she tried to decide what movie she wanted to start with. Later, she would blame her total inattention as the reason she took more than 2 seconds to notice the extra body in the room.
It was mid-December, snowing hard and fast outside, and the Winter Soldier was huddled on their couch, Kate’s favorite fluffy purple blanket thrown over his shoulders and a bright pink mug of hot chocolate steaming into his exhausted, unshaven face.
She stared at him for a heartbeat, her phone completely forgotten, and barely recognized him at first; he just looked like a too-thin, scruffy hobo, wearing a dirty hoodie and a grubby ball cap, his heavy boots caked in freshly drying mud as they laid sprawled out in front of him.
Once her heart started beating regularly again, Kate’s brain caught up and the realization hit her like a brick to the face: this was the freaking Winter Soldier. She took a private moment to have a bit of a fangirl freak-out because, hello, this was the most badass assassin in the history of pretty much ever (she was almost 100% certain the Black Widow would forgive her her momentary disloyalty once the woman caught a glimpse of the man’s killer jawline, because damn) and he was sitting on her couch, wrapped up in her blanket, looking absolutely, ridiculously adorable.
This was amazing, and her brain almost couldn’t compute.
Almost.
“So, uh,” she said oh so eloquently, trailing off with wide eyes as she dropped her backpack to the floor with a thud and kicked her beat up sneakers beneath the table by the door. “’Sup, dude?”
The Winter Soldier raised his eyes slowly from the floor to look at her, but his gaze was hazy and he almost seemed to just skip right over her as he scanned around the room sluggishly. A shiver ran down her spine at the dead, empty look in his vacant eyes. Finally, his gaze seemed to settle on her for more than a second, weak though the motion looked to be. It took longer than she was expecting for a world-infamous assassin, but she recognized the moment he seemed to realize her chatter hadn’t just been coming from his own head.
That dull gaze brightened in a split second from nothing to a sort of wild, animal panic as he took notice of her and all her sixteen-year-old glory, and Kate realized that she had absolutely no clue what the hell to do in this situation.
Clint was banging around in the kitchen in the periphery of her awareness, letting out one curse after another, so it was probably safe to assume that the big WS hadn’t just snuck into their apartment to snuggle in her blanket and steal their hot chocolate. Clint probably knew the guy was coming over weeks ago and had forgotten to bring Kate into the loop, because that was absolutely something Clint would do, being the idiot he was. But he was her idiot and her biggest ally half the time, but at the moment he was also pretty friggin’ far away, and not within useful shielding distance if the big guy had a freak out.
Still.
Useful information to know.
Okay.
She could totally handle this.
Her internal reasoning was proven pretty true when the poor guy cast a worried, wide-eyed look toward the kitchen, like Kate was the super scary one in this situation. The Winter Soldier let out a long, high-pitched whimper as he glanced between Kate and the kitchen, but the guy didn’t even move an inch, just hunched his massive shoulders some more, watching Kate warily through the fringe of his hair that hung in dirty clumps in front of his face.
Poor homeboy needed a good haircut.
Stat.
His sad, doe eyes were quickly killing her, too, and it was almost pathetic how easily she caved beneath their power. “Oh, jeez. It’s okay, buddy. Really. Just calm down, it’s all good.” She held her empty hands up in the most non-threatening way possible, taking a few steps back away from him until she was running right into the door. “I didn’t mean to freak you out, man. I’m sorry.” How Clint wasn’t reacting to anything coming from this room was beyond her, unless he was being stupid and had taken his hearing aides out again.
She decided right then and there that once this was all squared away and laughed off as a funny little misunderstanding, she and Clint were going to have one long, serious discussion about him keeping her up to date on things like when he was supposed to be off training with the Avengers or like when random assassins were going to be dropping by out of the blue.
The silence was growing uncomfortable and Kate was starting to panic (slightly, only slightly). What the hell was she supposed to do now? “Clint!” she hissed loudly, hoping he would come to the rescue and start explaining. “Hey, the Worst Hawkeye!”
Finally (finally), Clint poked his head out of the kitchen like this was just any other day. “Oh. Hey, kiddo!” He turned his attention over to the couch and smiled softly as he took a few more steps into the living room. “Hey. James.” He waited until the Winter Soldier’s terror-blown eyes slowly shifted across the room until they landed on Clint. “This is Kate. I told you about her earlier. She lives here, too, and I watch out for her nowadays.” He spoke slowly and evenly, like he was trying to make sure the Soldier was taking everything in.
The Soldier was still huddled up on the couch in what looked like an extremely uncomfortable position, wide eyed and confused, but at least he was able to peek his head out of his blanket burrito just a bit more. He was staring up at Clint with an almost ridiculous intensity, like he was trying to wade through heavy fog to understand a single thing Clint was saying.
Something about the man’s reaction was striking her as odd, and Kate almost kicked herself for how long it took her to realize what the problem was. She turned on Clint with the sudden realization, eyes flashing with suspicion. “Is he drugged?” she demanded, trying to keep her body language calm in order to keep the Soldier calm, too. The last thing she needed was to set the poor man off.
“Um,” Clint drew out, suddenly looking uncomfortable and a little bit uneasy as he rubbed the back of his neck. “A little bit?” At Kate’s unimpressed glare, Clint almost fell over himself trying to give her a better answer. “Only a little bit! He was really nervous about coming over today and Steve was just making it worse the more he talked, so Natasha stuck him with a sedative. But Tony miscalculated the dose and accidentally, kinda knocked him out on his ass. It was just supposed to keep him calm but it did it a little too well and Steve sort of had to drag him here. Like, literally.”
Kate’s glare didn’t soften, and Clint flinched. “Okay, when I say it out loud, it sounds a lot worse than how it did in my head.”
“That was a freakin’ stupid plan. And you people think you’re all so smart!” She continued to rant at Clint for a few more minutes, really getting into it with a few choice insults, no longer concerned that she would scare the Soldier; his eyes were misty and far away again. With most of her focus on chewing Clint out, she had to admit that the theme of the day was at least holding true, and it took her a stupid amount of time to notice Captain America hovering uncertainly in the doorway to the kitchen, face stricken but also beet red in embarrassment.
Kate felt she probably could rival him in the red-face department when she finally noticed him; she had pretty much just called Captain America a dumbass to his face.
Could a hole just open up and swallow her down, like, right now, please?
Now that the fire had cleared from her vision just a bit, she was able to glance over Clint’s shoulder to see the Sold-no, James, Clint had called him James-with a dopey little grin sitting crookedly on his face. He met her eyes easily enough for the first time since she had walked through the door, and they weren’t even hazy or fear-filled. His eyes were sparkling with glee and he carefully licked his lips, swallowed nervously a few times, and then croaked out, “I really like her. She tells it like it is, Stevie. Calls you out on your stupid shit, punk.” He chuckled lowly and then leaned further back into the sofa, shaking his head in baffled amusement, bringing his mismatched hands up to take a sip of hot chocolate. “Yep, we’re definitely keeping her.”
Then his eyes danced around the room with a jittery little flick every few seconds. He looked down at his hot chocolate like it had personally offended him, screwed his face up in the most adorable bitch face possible, and then seemed to realize that he had the attention of the rest of the room. “Ugh,” he groaned, eyes squeezed shut tight before cracking them open a moment later to glare at Clint and Captain America. “What the hell was in those fucking drugs?”
Rogers practically fell over himself rushing to James’ side, apologizing over and over.
The tension in the room quickly trickled away after that little outburst, and Kate sagged bonelessly against the door, trying to catch her breath. Living with Clint could be stressful sometimes, but she had to admit that this wasn’t even the weirdest thing that had ever happened.
Clint sidled up beside her as she was trying to figure out what she wanted to do next (watching a movie and drinking hot chocolate seemed like the dreams from a much simpler time, after what she was dealing with now).
“Hey, Katie. Sorry I forgot to tell you they were coming over today. I forgot about it myself until they were knocking at the door.” He took another deep breath when she just lifted a shoulder at him, rolling her eyes.
“Uh-huh. So what’s the story here, buddy?” she asked, calmly, raising a brow at him.
Clint sighed and ran a hand over his face. “This was all kind of last minute. James and Tony don’t get on at all, and the tension was really getting to everybody. James wanted to remove himself from it all. He needs a place that’s calmer, and he felt bad about making Tony uncomfortable in his own home.”
Kate frowned at that. She released a huge sigh then, folding her arms across her chest in impotent annoyance. “I really hate when you do that, making everything sound so altruistic and selfless, because then I can’t be angry at you.” It really didn’t bother her any adding another adult to their household, she was just worried about the poor guy. “Yeah, whatever, that’s totally fine with me. More the merrier, right?”
Clint smiled, soft and happy, like he always did when he was secretly proud of her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and giving her a tight squeeze. “Thanks, kiddo. I’m just worried about him, Steve says James has been kind of isolating himself. Maybe we can bring him out of his shell some while he’s here.”
Kate agreed and they left it at that. It wasn’t like it was a difficult thing to decide; James needed help and a place to stay, and they had more than enough room to help the guy out.
Rogers stayed for a slightly-awkward dinner of two-day-old Chinese food eaten around their rickety little kitchen table that was rarely used for its actual intended purpose. He hovered at the doorway on his way out, almost desperately watching James over Clint’s shoulders, trying to make eye contact just one last time. Kate thought it was kinda cute but ultimately unnecessary, and left it to Clint to deal with as she settled on the floor in front of the coffee table. Rogers was his friend, after all, not hers.
She heard Clint trying to gently reassure Rogers, and smiled to herself as he got more and more blunt that it was time to go already, buddy, come on now, he’ll be fine.
When Rogers finally got the door shoved unrepentantly in his face, Clint sighed and then started flitting around the apartment, apparently attempting to tidy up. It was a lost cause, and Kate had no clue why he was even trying. All of the Avengers had at least a vague idea of Clint’s concept of the idea of ‘clean’.
As she sat on the floor across from James, she was easily able to study him through her lashes while she pretended to sort through her backpack. This was her first spare moment to study the guy, get a good long look and take him all in. She had heard a bit about him from Clint and half-stories overheard between Clint and the other Avengers while she was blatantly eavesdropping, but she had never met James Barnes face to face. And now that she really was, she was realizing how unprepared she was to meet someone so very notorious and deadly.
Don’t get her wrong, all the other Avengers were super deadly, too. But they weren’t 100-year-old brainwashed POWs with PTSD and identity issues. They had all gotten at least some sort of closure, distance, and/or treatment since dealing with their trauma; with James, it was more than likely extremely fresh, like a fresh knife wound or something.
Clint had said that the man was there to recover in peace.
Where the hell he had gotten the idea that their apartment was peaceful was beyond her, unless Clint had spun some ridiculous lies in order to talk him into it. And that was another thing; Clint had barely said ten words about James Barnes to her before the man had just appeared on their couch. Since when were the two buddy-buddy enough for the Soldier to decide to shack up in their tiny apartment?
“Am I making you uncomfortable?” James asked, breaking her out of her own head, and she realized that she hadn’t been as sneaky as she thought she was being. She jerked and looked up at him guiltily; she was almost completely sure she had been staring vacantly at him for the last few minutes, which was embarrassing as hell. At least James wasn’t looking so skittish anymore; now he just looked all stoned and boneless, leaning back against the couch comfortably, all loose limbed and floppy.
Those must have been some reallygood drugs.
“Sorry! No, you’re fine, really. I was just thinking.” She winced at her own defensiveness, feeling like every time she opened her mouth was just another opportunity to shove her foot a little further in. “So, uh. What made you want to move in with us?”
Barnes’ smile stretched across his face slowly and surely, and Kate could see why he had been such a heartbreaker back in the day. Now he just looked vaguely amused and more than a little exhausted by the world.
“I heard Clint telling you what’s up. I felt like such a dick, making Stark feel so hounded in his own house. Clint offered and Steve threw the puppy dog eyes at me, and it’s been years but I’m still not immune to them.” Barnes frowned then, looking closer to a pout than any real angst at that. But then he seemed to come to another conclusion and frowned with real emotion at her, all sadness and big eyes. “Oh, no. Am I going to make you feel bad in your home, too? Shit, Clint said he had somebody else living with him, but I kind of assumed it was his girlfriend or something.”
“Uh. No.” Kate couldn’t hold back the gag she let out thinking about Clint with a girlfriend. Ew. “Sorry to disappoint?”
Barnes chuckled in relief, something heavy and dark but showing real amusement. “Naw, kid. It’s all good. I had a little sister, she was just around your age last time I saw her.” His eyes grew faraway again, but he was getting better at bringing himself back, because it didn’t last near as long as the other times had. “Just, don’t be afraid to tell me off, if I’m in your way or something. I saw the spitfire you are, and I ain’t no wilting flower here. Be yourself, yeah?”
Kate blushed but nodded, looking down to her hands stuck deep in her backpack. She peeked up at him and they traded uneasy, awkward smiles while Kate vaguely wondered where the hell Clint had wandered off to. The apartment was very open concept, so he had to either be hiding in the bathroom or upstairs in his loft.
It meant something, though, that Clint trusted James enough to be safe around her. At least, she hoped that was his thought process, and he hadn’t just gotten side tracked by something else with no intention of leaving them alone for so long.
In an attempt to break the awkward moment, Kate tugged her homework out of her backpack and set about getting her workspace set up, even if she didn’t really feel like doing it, especially on the first night of winter break. Barnes settled down more comfortably on the sofa once more, closing his eyes and tugging the blanket up around his shoulders more snuggly. She smiled softly at the image and if she surreptitiously snapped a quick picture of him looking so damned adorable, well, no one could prove it.
They sat there together in relative silence for another hour or so, Kate working on her homework and James sleeping (or not, it was really difficult to tell because, y’know, super assassin).
And then Clint finally decided to pop back up. He flopped down on the floor with Kate, leaning up against her side in the most annoying way possible, snacking on what looked to be an old slice of pizza (where he got that, she wasn’t sure, as she had checked the fridge earlier and there hadn’t been any pizza in there) or else it was some mad scientist’s pet project, if you went by the odd smell and possible grey fuzz growing on top. She gagged at the smell alone and leaned over until she was practically laying on the floor, trying to shove Clint and his monster pizza out of her space.
“You are disgusting, you know that, right? God, how you don’t get food poisoning I will never understand!”
“Oh, come on, Katie! It’s really not that bad, I swear! You’re overreacting!” Clint tried to crawl closer to her, leaning down to attempt a kiss to her cheek, but Kate was smaller and faster, shoving a small hand in his face and beating him away.
“You are so gross! Ugh, your breath!”
Their argument was abruptly cut short when they heard soft, disbelieving laughter coming from their newest roommate. Kate and Clint both turned wide eyes toward him as he brought his metal hand up to cover his grin. Nothing could mask the amusement shining through in his eyes, though.
“Sorry, it’s just, you guys sound just like me and Steve when we were kids.” He snorted to himself and let his hand drop, smile still on his face even as he shook his head. “It was usually me messing with Steve, seeing as I was pretty immune to bad smells, bodily fluids, or pretty much anything gross he could think up.”
Kate stared at James with big eyes that shone with admiration. Any kid that had grown up from WWII-on had at least a smattering of ingrained hero-worship in them for the Howling Commandoes, but especially Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers. Being able to hear stories about their youth together was more than something special.
It helped that this story was also something she could probably use to make Captain Rogers turn red again the next time she saw him.
“Wow,” Kate breathed out eloquently, starry eyed as she tried to picture the scene. A younger, less haunted Bucky Barnes sitting on the floor, looking bored and calm while a skinny Steve Rogers tried to unsuccessfully rile him up.
It was downright hilarious.
She side-eyed Clint carefully for a split second, trying to ask him with the power of eye contact how much further she could safely push this topic, but Clint was being oblivious as usual so she decided to just push on. “By chance, you got any other funny stories from back in the day? If you don’t, uh, mind sharing?”
When Barnes graced her with a soft, nostalgic smile that had her knees going weak even sitting down, Kate easily shoved her math homework to the side and folded her arms on top of the table, resting her chin on top to watch Barnes closely. She knew, even from the very little she knew of him, that this was probably a touchy subject. She appreciated that he was willing to tell her stories, especially seeing as they had only met a few hours earlier.
Barnes spent the rest of the night adding to her arsenal of funny and embarrassing trash on Captain America, keeping her laughing until long after midnight. When the sky started to lighten up outside, Clint nudged Kate in the side and dragged her to her feet, corralling her into her room to get some necessary sleep, even if she complained and bargained the whole way. She was getting a little punch drunk the later it got and Clint knew the only cure for that was either energy drinks or sleep, and they were all out of energy drinks. Besides, he was trying to be a responsible guardian, here.
Clint returned to the living room a few minutes later, giving James a big, wide grin. “Thanks for indulging her. She’s got a little hero worship thing going on for the Avengers. She doesn’t really get to interact with them much, though, so this was a nice treat for her.”
Barnes returned Clint’s smile, the drugs finally out of his system for the most part. He was feeling much more level headed. “It’s not a problem. She’s a great kid; you’re lucky to have her.”
Clint stared down at his feet, bashfully kicking his foot out while he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, she’s pretty great. Don’t say that to her face, though; it’d probably go straight to her head, and she’s already pretty full of herself. And don’t let her hear you calling her a kid, either, or she’ll probably shoot you full of arrows. Or, try, at least.”
An easy silence fell between them then, and Clint shifted forward enough to flop down on the cushion next to Barnes. It was comfortable and quiet and they just sat there for a few minutes, enjoying the calm.
“You know, why don’t I show you to your room, man? It’s getting late, isn’t it?” Clint stood up, nearly tripped over Kate’s backpack, and caught himself last minute on James’ outstretched hand. His face flushed red and he rolled his eyes at himself, but gave James a big ol’ grin in return. “Thanks, buddy. Anyway,” he said, hopping down the hall until he was standing in front of another door. James followed close behind, an indulgent grin on his face. “Kate’s room is right next to yours, and mine is up those stairs, there. Bathroom’s down the hall. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to come get me.” They stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the door, and Barnes stared calmly at the Spartan room when Clint kicked the door open. Clint waited patiently for his appraisal, and smirked when James finally turned to him, a hand stretched out easily between them. Clint grabbed on, shaking hard and loose.
“I really do appreciate this, Clint. I don’t know how I’ll repay you.”
“Don’t worry about it, really. It’s not a problem. I think you’ll fit right in here. Now, why don’t you go and get some rest, buddy. We’ll see you in the morning.”
Barnes nodded, took a step into the room, and let the door click shut silently behind him. He took one deep breath, then another and another until he could think real clear again.
This was going to be so new, so different from his life in the Tower, he mused to himself. But it felt right, like something old and familiar and worn in comfortably. Like his childhood, really, now that he actually stopped to think about it.
His memories were always filtered through grainy, sepia tones or too-bright lights, almost never anything in between, it was either one or the other. Sometimes years at a time were missing but he’d learned to live with that; he would either remember those years or he wouldn’t.
But he did remember the big house he and his family had lived in when he was a child, his baby sisters running from room to room, tugging on his hand to get him to play. He remembered living in tight quarters with his whole family, with Steve in their tiny apartment, with the men shoved like sardines in the barracks and in the muddy trenches during the War and the rusty steel cages in Azzano.
But this apartment, this was something familiar, nostalgic even. New York. Bedstuy. This city had been so different back when he was a kid, but in a lot of ways, it was still so much the same. He could get used to living here. He could recover here. He was ready and he was willing and, he decided, it was about damn time he take care of himself again.
He settled on the bed and sighed at how lumpy and firm the mattress was. It was horrible and uncomfortable and cheap and absolutely perfect for him. It sent a pang of wistfulness through his chest and memory after memory piled on top of each other until he couldn’t discern one from the other.
But it was okay. It would be okay. It would.