Chapter Text
When you were six, Sam showed you how to pick a lock on the promise that you wouldn’t use it for anything illegal. He’d ruffled your hair when you got it right yourself, and said that he was proud of you.
Two days later, you’d broken into your mother’s study to get your brother his toy truck. He’d lost it after crying too loud during a dinner party, but his food had apples in it, and he was mildly allergic to them. He’d barely been more than a baby. It hadn’t been fair.
Sam had caught you. He’d been over to talk to your dad, and found you sneaking out of the study with the truck clutched to your chest.
He’d helped you. Taken the fall for grabbing the truck when your mom found out.
Then he’d sat you down and glared at you, and you’d stared at your feet as he explained that he knew you were smarter than that. Told you that he trusted you, and that’s why he’d taught you to lock pick, but that next time something like that happened, you just needed to tell him.
It’s one of the few memories you’re sure are real. The timeline adds up, and most of the documents you’ve found, along with what your father said, suggest that—until you were seven—they weren’t sure that you were the Leviathan. Only after the experiments succeeded were you locked in the lab. And this memory isn’t glossy, or plastic and vibrant. It’s blurry in the background, with harsh lines on Sam’s face, because it’s all you can remember.
It’s the same face he’s giving you now, as you sit on Bucky’s couch, and he glares down at you. Yelena’s in the background, looking more bored than anything else, and Bucky’s right at your side. Holding your hand in his lap, his other arm wrapped around your waist. Sam had wanted to yell at you separately, but you’d been too tired to stand.
Bucky had hissed that if Sam would have to physically move him away from you, and Sam might be Captain America, but Bucky’s beaten Captain America’s ass before.
You’d spent most of the argument with your face tucked into the crook of Bucky’s neck, trying to breathe evenly.
Everything fucking hurt. Your nerves feel like they’re splitting in half. Your vision is a little blurry, and it feels like your lungs are being pressed down, down, down. Your nails dig into Bucky’s palm, because the pain spreads right into your fingertips.
The bond is barely a thin strand anymore. It’s still there, just enough to keep your chest from caving in, or your heart from bursting out of your throat.
But you still can’t really use your powers. Going into the agent’s head and convincing him to walk away had felt like you’re being flayed alive from the inside.
Part of you wonders if Miles can feel it too. How close you are to snapping in half. If he can feel it, you’re not sure he’d really care. He certainly would never think that it’s because he’s losing control of you.
If the bond breaks entirely, you don’t know if it can be remade. Or if transferring it would strengthen it again. You still don’t really know how the bond works, because your mother had been in charge of it, and only told you how to transfer it. You might be walking a thin tightrope over death right now.
It feels less like it, every moment Bucky’s thumb rubs over the back of your hand. But you still feel sick.
And Sam is still glaring at you.
So no matter what, this is going to be a long fucking night.
“Alright, I’m just gonna say what you said, back to you.” He crosses his arms over his chest, and you swallow.
“Sam-“
“No, no. I want you two to hear what fuckin’ bullshit you’re saying, and then we’ll talk about it. Okay?”
Bucky sighs, leaning forward. “Sam, take a few breaths.”
“I am breathing, Bucky. I’m breathing just fine.” Sam squares his shoulders, still glaring between you. “Why wouldn’t I be breathing fine, after what you two told me?” He says your name with a scowl, and you curl a little further into Bucky’s side, like he can make this bullet bounce off of you. “You’re the fucking Leviathan. You’ve had superpowers your whole life and never told me. Those months in the hospital when you were a kid were actually you livin’ in a Hydra lab, Yelena over here knows you because she was training you, and Bucky was there for reasons that you say we don’t understand.”
“We don’t understand them.” You mumble, and Sam shakes his head.
“Well, I ain’t done. You,” he points at Bucky, who overall just seems annoyed. “Got turned into the Soldier and almost beat up some CIA agents before you,” the finger turns back to you, and you try not to flinch. “Used mind magic on them and made them stand down. But you’re going to leave with Miles, which you have to do because he’s got some kind of bond on you. But the bond is breaking, and you might fucking die!” He glowers between you. “I miss anything? You both about to tell me that the fuckin’ cat has powers?”
Sam’s finger turns to the Boy, who’s been nuzzling at Yelena for attention. Bucky opens his mouth, then closes it again, an odd look on his face.
You frown, but don’t ask about it. Now isn’t really the time.
You’ll need to talk to him later, anyway. He hasn’t really spoken about what happened, or how it felt to be the Solider again. You think he’d tell you, if he was worried he’d turn back, but you’re not even sure what triggered him in the first place. He’d told Sam that he didn’t know what happened. Only that he’d been Bucky, then he’s been the Soldier, then Bucky again.
And you trust him. With every piece of you, you trust Bucky.
You just don’t really fucking believe him right now. It can’t just be nothing that triggered him. You’ll ask him later, when you poke about how he’s been shooting the Boy strange looks since he turned back into himself.
He needs to know that you missed him, as well. That you’d hated staring at his handsome face when it looked so fucking empty. That you’d wanted to run your finger through his hair and tell him it was going to be okay, until your Bucky can back to you.
Because he is your Bucky. It’s a little hard to escape that now.
You’d told him you loved him.
He hasn’t said it back.
But he did kiss the top of your head, after he helped you get changed. He held you on the couch while you sobbed quietly from the pain, and talked to you about nothing at all, as you waited for Sam and Yelena to get back.
“I found a movie we could watch later.” He’d murmured, gently running his fingers through your hair. “It’s another musical. Animated. Think you mentioned it before and we just never got around to it.”
You’d hummed, playing with the fabric of his shirt. You’d been curled into him for almost an hour, and you’d never wanted to move. You felt safe. Wrapped up in his warmth, his lips grazing your skin as you spoke making the Mist feel less like it was ripping you to shreds.
“Then I was thinkin’ we get you sushi.” Bucky had kept talking, even as you’d only been able to breathe him in. “I’ll order it. Make you a smoothie.”
You’d twisted a little to look at him. “You have a smoothie machine?”
He’d nodded, his thumb tracing over your cheek. “Got it a month ago. I know you like fruit.”
“I do like fruit.” You’d whispered, and his lips had twitched.
“Yeah. I know, Butterfly. You want mango and peach?”
You’d nodded, then thought better of it and wrapped your arms tight around his neck.
Bucky had muttered your name, and you’d shaken your heat, squeezing.
“I don’t want you to move.” You’d mumbled, and he’d sighed, settling back down into the cushions.
“Alright. Then we’ll stay here.”
You’d hummed, and Bucky had just kept distracting you. His arms around you, his voice smooth and grounding, making it all a little easier to breathe. You’d floated down in his arms, and the pain is still there, but it’s more of a numb ache in your body.
Then Sam had arrived, and Bucky had mostly explained because your throat hurt. And you’re pretty sure you’ve covered everything, even with Bucky’s odd looks at the Boy.
But Yelena raises her hand, clearing her throat until Sam looks at her.
“What.”
“Ask me what her powers are.”
Sam scowls. “Why the hell would I ask you, when she’s right fuckin’ there.”
“Because I am the one who told her, Bird-Man. Ask me.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
Yelena scoffs, dropping her hand. “You are no fun.”
“I’m plenty of fun, just not in this type of situation.” He turns back to you and Bucky. “And I think I understand what your powers are. Leviathan. Mind-controller.”
“World eater.” Yelena drawls, and Sam shoots her a glare over his shoulder.
“Did I ask you-“
“No, Sam, she’s-“ You raise your voice a little, your grip on Bucky starting to hurt you. “She’s right. And it’s not just mind control. I- I manipulate, and- see the future.”
“The future?”
“Yeah. All of them.”
“All-“
“It’s multiverse theory, Sam.” Bucky takes over, and you lean a little further into his side. You might be trying to mold into him, so there’s no sense of you stopping and him beginning. At the very lest, you really need him to never let go of your hand. “Lotta different futures. She’s strong enough to sort through them.”
You wouldn’t call it strong. You’d call it dangerous or just leave it at enough.
But Bucky thinks it’s strong. And that makes you feel warm and soft. So you take it, and let him keep handling this.
“Since when are you an expert on physics, Buck?”
“I’ve been taking a class on it. Was doin’ it on the drive.
Sam scoffs. “Yeah, course you were. No reason to tell your best friend Sam why you’re studying the future. Sure as shit ain’t gonna be relevant to him later.”
Bucky sighs. “Look, I get that you’re pissed-“
“Do you, Bucky? You get how fuckin’ infuriated I am that my two best friends, who I consider family, have been lyin’ to be for years.”
You clear your throat, your voice softer than you want it to be. “Technically only I’ve been lying to you, Bucky didn’t find out until-“
“That’s worse.” Sam snaps, and you close your mouth. “You’re gettin’ how that’s worse right. It means that I’ve know you for your whole fucking life and you never told me, then Sargent brooding-handsome-muscles walks in and it’s a free for all on secrets?”
You drop your gaze to the coffee table. Looking him in the eyes makes you feel sicker. “I- I didn’t mean to tell him, it just happened-“
“And it couldn’t just happen for you to tell me?”
“Sam.” Bucky grunts, squeezing your hand gently. “Go easy on her, it’s a complicated situation-“
“Well it’s more complicated now!” Sam shakes his head with a long sigh. “Fuck, Bucky, I’ve been running around, trying to put pieces together with nothing making sense for months. I felt like I was chasing a ghost, half the guys I’ve got thought this Leviathan thing was nothing, and the whole meeting with Valentina made me feel like I was going crazy.”
You glance at Bucky, and he gives you a tiny shake of his head.
“What.” Sam grunts, and when you look back, he’s glaring between you. “What other secrets are you keepin’.”
“It’s not a secret, Sam-“
“It sounds like a secret.” Yelena hums, only shrugging when Bucky shoots her a glare. “What? I am trying not to play a side. You should not have lied to your best friend like that, Bucky Barnes-“
“You helped us lie to him.” Bucky hisses, and Yelena sighs.
“I knew you would just throw that in my face-“
“Because it’s what happened-“
“Hey.” Sam waves his hand, still glaring at Bucky. “Tell me what the secret is now, fight later.”
“I was telling you, it’s not a secret.” Bucky sighs, running his hand over his face. “Valentina… She knows.”
Sam blinks. “Knows what.”
Bucky mutters your name. “Valentina knows she’s the Leviathan. That’s why Yelena.” He shoots her a glare, and she flips him off. “Showed up in the first place.”
“But I am on your side, Bird-Man. I told you, once I realized it was бабочка, I jumped off Valentina’s crazy train-“
“Yeah, I get it, you’re a good guy now.” Sam braces his hands on his hips, still frowning at Bucky. “So what, you just lied to me about that, too? I spent the whole drive back telling you that I think Valentina knows something we don’t, and you- You just sat there sayin’ nothing? What happened to us being partners, Buck. We have each other’s back, no matter what. It’s what Steve would have wanted-“
“We don’t know what Steve would have wanted.” Bucky cuts him off with low words, tensing at your side. “Steve isn’t here.”
Sam gapes at him, then shakes himself off like Bucky’s just said something insane. “Oh, suddenly you don’t give a shit what Steve would have wanted-“
“I didn’t say that. I’m sayin’-“ Bucky sighs, saying your name through his teeth. “She is here. And it wasn’t my secrets to tell, Sam. Telling you about Valentina would have meant telling you everything about Yelena, which would have meant giving away a secret that wasn’t mine.”
Sam opens his mouth, then closes it, and Bucky lets out a slow breath.
“We can fight about this all you want later, Sam.” He mutters, giving Sam a firm look. “But Valentina does know. She’s willing to violate the law, just to get her hands on the Leviathan-“
“She will violate law.” Yelena jumps in. “I have killed many, many people for her. Which is illegal.”
“Yeah, it is. Thank, Yelena.” Bucky’s tongue flicks over his lips before he looks at you, a heavy desperation in the flare of his nostrils and grip of his hand. “You can’t pull that off again, can you Butterfly.”
You swallow, and shake your head. The pain is still stinging and throbbing, and you don’t think it’s going to ever end. You don’t know where it goes from here. You do know that using your powers again, without Miles holding the reins, might make you fall down and not get back up.
And Bucky will catch you. He’s running his thumb over the back of your hand, and looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. But you’re really, really not.
It’s past the point of convincing him that.
But if there’s anything that can keep you from just being more of a burden to him, you’ll do it. You’re not just going to fall over and over as your legs start to get weak from holding you up. You won’t just make Bucky keep catching you.
You’ve survived without using your powers, for years.
You just have to keep playing this game the same you always have. You haven’t really lost before.
There’s no fucking way you’re going to start now.
“I can’t.” You whisper, raising your voice before Sam can start asking more questions. “That’s how we know the bond is breaking, Sam. I sort of… made the people who came to arrest me just fuck off.”
“Made like…”
“Mind controlled.” You mumble, and Sam’s eyes widen.
“It’s not that bad, Sam.” Bucky grunts, leaning a little forward. “And she had to, so don’t-“
“I ain’t judging, Bucky, so you can calm the hell down. Just-“ He sighs your name. “I’m trying to get it all straight. Valentina came for you, you pulled some Leviathan magic to get her away, and now what? We just go into hiding. Fuck, Captain America is going to be war criminal again, I swore I would wait at least eighty years like Steve did-“
“You’re not becoming a war criminal, Sam.” You give him a flat look. “She’s the one breaking the law right now, I just-“ You look back to Bucky. “What exactly happened in the meeting. I was going to ask you this morning, but…”
You trail off, and Yelena takes over.
“He went crazy murder man?”
“He didn’t kill anyone.” You mutter, and Bucky’s jaw twitches.
“I would have.”
“No, because you tried to, and I stopped you.” You raise your chin. “What did she say, Barnes. Tell me.”
Bucky pauses, scanning over your face. You think he’s looking for distress.
So you just give him a small, gentle smile. Everything is fine. There’s that dulled pain, and the world is slowly slipping through your fingers and out of your control, but you’re with Bucky. So it’s really all fine.
“She denied sending Yelena.” He finally says, words low and careful. “She did say she’d take legal action, if we didn’t comply with her.”
“But she wouldn’t say what complying looked like.” Sam adds. “Which in the meeting was fuckin’ annoying, but makes a hell of a lot more sense now.”
Bucky nods. “Right. She wouldn’t say she knew who the Leviathan was, and I couldn’t tell Sam, so it was a lot of us all talking like we were in a freakin’ puzzle.”
You chew on your lower lip. “What did she say she knew.”
“That the Leviathan is a threat.” He mutters. “And that she was going to bring it justice.”
“But we know she knows it’s me.”
“Yeah. We do.”
“Okay.” You look to Yelena. “Were your instructions to kidnap me?”
“No. Just bring you in, alive. With whatever force I needed to use.” Yelena pauses. “I do not think she is paired with Hydra, бабочка. I was told to kill them, too.”
“Right. Hydra.” Sam scowls. “Almost fuckin’ forgot about Hydra, what kind of situation are we in where I’m forgetting about Hydra-“
“A bad one.” Bucky offers Sam a tight smile.
Sam huffs. “Hell yeah, it’s a bad one.” He returns the smile, before narrowing his eyes. “Are you tryin’ to make me forgive you with jokes?”
“Maybe.”
“Stop it, it’s weird.”
Bucky sighs. “C’mon, Sam. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, I know you are, but if I had been kept in the bad situation loop, it might be a mild situation-“
“Sam.” You make your voice firm, sitting up a little taller, and Sam blinks at you. “I’m the one who lied to you, leave Bucky alone. He’s trying to help. And Yelena, if those were all her instructions, do you know what she planned to do with me after?”
Yelena shakes her head as Sam starts to sulk, and you take a deep breath. This could be better.
It could be a lot fucking worse.
“I want to talk to her.” You say, looking at Bucky. “Valentina.”
Bucky’s grip on your hand tightens, his expression impossibly neutral. “No.”
“I need to, she can’t just arrest me if it’s an schedules meeting that the press knows about, I’m a public figure-“
“No.” Bucky grunts. “There’s no way we’re doin’ that, Butterfly, so drop it.”
He’s giving you the commanding voice. You’re not going to cave into it that easy.
“You could come with me. And Sam. We could call it a meeting about the foundation, nobody but Pepper, Happy, and Grace know I’m not in charge right now-“
“That’s not going to stop her.” Bucky snaps your name, and you sigh.
“It might. And if it doesn’t, Sam can just throw her off a roof.”
You give him a soft smile, squeezing his hand, and the cold tension in his eyes softens on yours.
“I don’t throw people off roof,” Sam grumbles your name in the background. “You gotta stop telling people I do.”
You roll your eyes at Bucky—whose lips twitch slightly—before giving Sam a sweet look. “You’d throw someone off a roof for me, though, right?”
Sam flips you off, and you stick your tongue out at him.
“Tell him it’s a good idea.”
He snorts. “It’s not a good idea-“
“Just lie then, Sam-“
“What, like you two have been doin’ to me all year- shit-“
You shoot to your feet, your fingers thoughtlessly running through Bucky’s hair before you stomp across the room.
“Wait, I’ve just been kiddin’-“ You narrow your eyes at him, and he blanches. “Bucky-“
“Butterfly,” Bucky drawls, very much not moving from the couch. “Don’t hurt him.”
“I’m not hurting him.” You glare over your shoulder, and Bucky just raises his brows. “We’re going to get lunch. After Sam admits that my idea is great, and we’re going to go meet with Valentina.”
“He’s not gonna do that, sweetheart-“
“Yeah, it’s a great idea.” Sam cuts Bucky off, ignoring the firm death glare it earns him. “I’m choosing the path of life, Barnes. I’ve told you, she scares me a hell of a lot more than you do.”
Bucky’s jaw ticks. “It’s a stupid fuckin’ plan-“
“No, it’s genius, and I’m amazing.” You smile, patting Sam’s arm. “Lunch?”
Sam swallows, and Bucky grunts your name, pushing off the couch.
“I’m not letting you get yourself hurt-“
“I know. Which is why you’re coming with me.”
Bucky scowls, and you sigh, walking back across the room to stand right in front of him. He watches you silently, nostrils flaring, and you rest your arms up on his shoulders. He leans a little further forward, and sighs when you give him a silent, prompting look.
“She wants to hurt you.” He mutters, his hands finding your hips. “And I told you. I’m doin’ whatever I gotta to make sure you stay safe.”
“I know.” You whisper, staring at the collar of his shirt. You don’t deserve the simplicity with which he said that. As if it’s a given, that you being hurt would actually be a problem. “And I- I love you for it.” Bucky blinks at you, but you’ve already said it once. Might as well double down, with whatever you have “But I’m doing this so you don’t have to do whatever it takes.”
He drops his brow to yours and he lets out a long, slow breath. Grabs your chin and angles it up to meet his gaze. You blink at him slowly, and his tongue flicks over his lips. He searches your face for whatever he needs to find, and you let him have it. You do love him. Anything in you isn’t something he’s never seen.
The Mist hums, but not painfully.
Bucky sees you. That’s never hurt less than when he looks at you like this. Like you’re a star, fallen right into his hands.
“Please, James.” You whisper, and he stares at you. “I’m good at talking. Let me talk.”
Bucky sighs, his thumb swiping over your lower lip, and you wait. If he says no, you’ll beg. You won’t go around his back, not on something like this, but you will bring him around however you have to-
“You are good at talkin’.” He grumbles, words smooth, and you beam.
“So that’s a yes?”
“Yeah. Fine.”
You stand on your toes, and give him a soft kiss on the cheek that makes his fingers flex against your hips. His skin is warm, under your lips. His beard soft.
Now it’s the time to think about how it felt to be this close to him, with his hands rubbing and grabbing at your skin, and his mouth searing against yours. How he’d held you like you were something priceless. Not just your body, or the power in you.
You.
Bucky’s trusting you. Kissing the top of your head, before you pull away, and grumbling to Sam that he’s on board with the plan for you.
He hasn’t said I love you back.
That’s a problem for after lunch.
You take Sam to the deli, below Bucky’s place. After the whole sobbing and holding a knife thing a few months ago, you’ve left enough of an impression that they know you, and the guy behind the counter grins at you when you get to the front of the line, your order already ready.
“They seem to like you.” Sam mutters as you sit on a bench a few blocks down. “Got your order right, that never fuckin’ happens at a deli.”
You shrug. “They like Bucky. And it helps that I order pretty much the same thing every time. If you’d gone in with just Bucky, you’d be eating this right now.” You hold up your sandwich, giving him a small grin, and Sam chuckles.
“You two go in there that much, huh.”
“He’s gotten close with them.” You shrug, looking at your feet on the concrete. “I think it’s been good for him, to have something that’s… You know. Normal-ish.”
Sam hums. “Well, he’s got you.”
You sigh. “Sam-“
“Hey, I’m not doin’ the big brother don’t you dare hurt her talk.” He nudges your shoulder with his own. “Pretty sure Bucky knows that he hurts you and Pepper will send a fuckin’ drone strike to him.”
“She wouldn’t-“
“Yeah, she would. And he ain’t gonna hurt you.” Sam lets out a low whistle. “Am I a little pissed he didn’t tell me? Yeah. But I’ll get over it.”
He’s not just talking about whatever you and Bucky are. You can hear it in his voice, still see his bitter expression from the fighting upstairs. You stare at the sandwich, fidgeting with the paper wrapped, and force your voice to be steady. You need him to understand. If you don’t have Sam, that means you’ve blown the one person that’s never given up on you. The one relationship you’ve always just kind of known like a star in the daytime. Not always visible, not always within even a phone-call or on the same realm of existence.
But there.
You need Sam to be there.
“Sam, I-“ You swallow, looking up at him with the world starts to blur and your voice too soft. “I- I promise I didn’t hide it from you because I didn’t trust you, my mother just- She told me never to tell anyone, the only people that know are the ones who have held the bond and Bucky, and- I wanted to tell you. So many times. But, I- I-“ You shake your head, swallowing on a sore lump in your throat. “I did some really stupid things. I made some really, really fucking stupid choices, and I- I didn’t want you to- I couldn’t-“
“Hey.” Sam mutters your name, slinging his arm over your shoulder, and you feel like that same little kid again. Crying because everything was unfair and painful, and she didn’t understand why nobody was going to fix it.
Learning that she only needed herself to fix it.
Still needing Sam to come and help her, when she broke herself.
“Listen.” He mutters, rubbing your back slowly, and a weak sob leaves your throat. “If this is about Miles, I hate the dickhole, but you were just a kid. You couldn’t have known he was gonna be a psycho.”
You sniff slightly. “It’s- It’s not just that.”
Sam hums. “Yeah?”
“I- I sort of-“ You can do it. You told Bucky before you were even really friends, and that worked out fine. You can do it.
Sam says your name gently, and you shake your head.
“After my dad left, when it was just us and my mom and Charlie was- They were sick-“ The Mist is moving up your spine, spinning slightly, but it’s not burning. You can do it.
“Kid, you don’t have to-“
“I made some choices.” You whisper, before you can let you talk yourself out of it. “I was… with some rich men, like- Like Alexander Pierce. And then after Hydra fell, I sort of- I kept being with them. New ones.”
Sam is silent for a long moment, and when he speaks, his voice is low. “You were seventeen when I met Steve. Hydra didn’t fall long after that.”
“I know.” You look down at your hands, pressing your lips tight together. “But it got us through it, Sam, and I’d do it again-“
“I could’ve gotten you through it.” He grunts. “You could’ve come to me, Sarah would’ve let you stay with her, I could gotten Tony to run me some money-“
You shake your head, giving him a pleading look. “I didn’t want you to have to.” You mumble, and his brows draw together.
“It wouldn’t have been a have to.” Sam says your name, voice firm, and your eyes sting again. “It’s never a have to, when it’s family. You got that?”
You nod weakly, the first tear hot as it slides down your face. You turn to wipe it away, and Sam sighs, rubbing your back again.
“Bucky know?”
“Yeah. I- I’m sorry-“
“Nah.” Sam frowns, scanning over you carefully. “And for the record, I ain’t disappointed in you.”
He’s not disappointed in you.
You didn’t show him a little more of yourself, and lose him forever.
And when you give him a smile it’s weak, but real. “Thank you.”
“Course.” He shrugs. “Am I thinkin’ that you could aim higher than Bucky? Yeah, maybe-“
“I couldn’t.” You mutter, wiping your nose with your sleeve, and Sam rolls his eyes.
“Well, I don’t think any person is good enough for you. And Bucky’s my best friend, but he’s still a sort of less assholeish Terminator with a heart-“
“It’s a big heart, Sam.” You flush, playing with your hair as you speak. “He’s really sweet, and yeah he’s kind of an asshole sometimes, but I’m kind of a bitch-“
Sam scoffs. “You’re not a bitch-“
“And Bucky’s not an asshole.” You give him a pointed look. “He got me a Charmander, Sam. And I- I love his stupid face and voice and how he’s such an old man but has fucking hot abs-“
“Alright, Jesus, I get it. That’s fuckin’ disgusting.” Sam makes a sour face at the air. “Shit, I wish I didn’t tell him to go for it, it’s really coming around to haunt me.”
You blink. “You what? Told Bucky to be with me?”
Sam nods, a smug grin on his face, and you gape at him.
“When?”
“Game night.”
“Game- No.” You shake your head, narrowing your eyes at him. “That was forever ago, Bucky and I weren’t even friends, and- I didn’t know until like, last month-“
“You’ve never been in a healthy relationship, kid.” Sam gives you a pointed look. “And Bucky’s a good man. You two really seem to have somethin’, don’t you.”
You flush, looking down to your shoes. “You think so?”
You know you do.
It’s still going to be nice to hear Sam say it.
“This is the happiest I’ve ever seen either of you.” Sam gives you an amused look. “And I ain’t ever seen Bucky just let someone tell him to do something stupid. I mean, half the things he does himself are, but the ass is the most stubborn cyborg I’ve met.”
You scowl. “I’m not doing something stupid, Sam-“
“Yeah, you are.” Sam snorts. “But I’m not worried about you.”
“Because it’s not stupid-“
“‘Cause you’ve got Bucky.”
You roll your eyes, but look back to your sandwich with a small smile.
You do have Bucky.
You really do have Bucky.
“How was lunch.” He’s waiting for you on the couch when you get back to the apartment, and you kick off your shoes with a shrug.
“Good. I think he’s less mad at me now. Where’s Yelena?”
“Sent her to get the Boy food. She’ll probably end up wanderin’ around Petco for hours.” Bucky reaches up, as you cross to his side, and pulls you down into him.
You giggle, as you land in his arms, and the small grin on his face isn’t tense, or hiding a building fight. Not a trick.
But nothing with Bucky is ever really a trick. He doesn’t play games like that.
He just keeps you right against his chest, and shifts you around until you’re comfortable. Your chin on his chest, your legs tangled together, your arms around his waist. He scans over your face, as he brushes a little hair away, and you just breathe him in. Mint and rain and something that’s just purely Bucky. It’s warm, in his embrace. Whenever the metal arm brushes your skin, it sends small shivers up your spine.
Grounds you.
There’s pain, and things are going to get so, so much fucking worse before they get better. You’re still bound to Miles. Bucky is your Bucky, and you want to be his, but there are other things more important than you right now.
Maybe not right now.
Right now, Bucky is looking at you like you’re the whole world, and his hands on you are gentler than any others you know. Right now you can only think about him, and the Mist is humming easily because Bucky is here, and he’s going to keep you safe.
Just keep you.
More than anyone in the world, you trust Bucky to keep you.
And you make a choice.
You push up on your palms, holding his gaze, and Bucky raises his brows.
“You feelin’ okay, Butterfly.”
“Yeah,” you whisper. “I am. I just- I need to ask you something, Buck.” You fidget with the buttons at the top of his shirt, and he grunts.
“Sounds like it’s somethin’ I’m don’t want to be asked.”
“I don’t think you’re going to like it.” You mumble, and Bucky sighs your name.
“Look at me, babydoll.”
You flush, and he’s using the commanding voice. When you meet his eyes, they’re like infinite, deep gravity. Dragging you down into their blue, into Bucky.
There’s no other place you’d want to drown, through the whole world.
“Babydoll is sticking, huh?” You laugh weakly, and Bucky just stares at you.
“You mind it?” He squeezes your hip, and heat floods right to your core.
You should mind it. That Bucky can do this to you. That babydoll isn’t objectively any better than doll was, but it feel different. He says it in a low drawl, like it’s a prayer. It doesn’t feel like he’s reminding you of your place. Just telling you that he’s here. And he’s not going anywhere, anytime soon.
Your voice dropping to a pretty fucking pathetic, breathy sound you didn’t even know you could make.
“No.” Your fingers curl on his chest, and his nostrils flare. “I don’t.”
“Okay. Then yeah, it is stickin’.” He gives you the commanding look. “You gonna ask your question that I won’t like.”
You nod, watching him carefully as you lean forward. You need him to see all of you. To know that you’re asking him because he’s the only person you ever could ask. The only person you trust with it. The only person you want to do it.
There had been an exactitude, fluttery feeling when you’d asked Miles. You’d thought it was butterflies, telling you that you were just that happy to ask.
It had been a warning, an alarm that you’d ignored.
But now there’s nothing. Only a deep comfort, that’s sunken all the way into your bones, because Bucky’s got you.
And he needs to know that you trust that. Because he’s not going to like any other part of this.
“Before my mom died,” you say slowly, still playing with the buttons of his shirt but trapped in his gaze. “She told me how to transfer the Bond. Well, she less told me as I eavesdropped on her shouting at my dad about it, then snuck into her study to find the notes about it, but- I was curious. And it paid off.” You sigh. “She died, and I told Charlie how to take it before I died too. Then I met Miles, and talked Charlie into giving it to him. It… It can’t be taken. But if it was broken, or whomever was holding it were to die-“
“Are you going to ask me to kill Miles, Butterfly?” Bucky frowns at you. “Because I’ve been ready to do that since I met him.”
“No, I-“ You pause. “You have?”
“Course I have. He was a dick to you, and- I didn’t like how you acted around him.” He sighs. “You didn’t talk. Freaked me out.”
“It freaked you out that I didn’t talk?”
“Yep. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, sweetheart.” Bucky pinches your thigh, and you squeak. “But you kinda talk all the fuckin’ time.”
You whack his chest. “That’s rude, James.”
“I never said I didn’t like it.” He catches your hand with a small grin, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist, and you flush.
“Oh- okay. Good.”
“Yeah, it is.” He kisses your knuckles left, and you’re starting to feel a little lightheaded from just the soft, simple attention. “What were you going to ask me, if it’s not killin’ Miles?”
Right.
Shit.
“I- I just- If the bond does need someone else to take it, however that may happen,” you take a deep breath, and Bucky’s eyes narrow.
“Butterfly-“
“I want you to take it, Bucky.”
“No.”
“Buck-“
“No.” Bucky sits up, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you pressed against him. “I ain’t doin’ that, I’m not going to fuckin’ control you like a dog-“
“I know you won’t, Bucky,” you grab his face between your hands, giving him a sad, hopeful look. “That’s why I want it to be you.”
He shakes his head, something heavy over his face. “I’m not taking part in anything that will hurt you, Butterfly.”
“I know. But- Not having someone on the other end of the bond will kill me.”
“Not if we remove the bond all together.”
“We don’t know if we can do that, James.”
“We’ve got Stark money and contacts in Wakanda.” He grunts, scanning over your features. “There’s no one else in the world who is in a better position to do it than we are.”
You sigh. “But it might take time we don’t have. And I- I need it to be you, Bucky.”
“Don’t say that.” His mutters through his teeth. “I’m not the horse you want to hitch yourself to, it should be Sam, he’s fuckin’ Captain America.”
“He is.” You shrug. “I still only trust you.”
Bucky shakes his head, his arms pulling you a little tighter to his chest. “If I mess it up, I’d never- No.”
You swallow. You don’t want to make him. Not with his past.
But he still has to know. If only so he can tell Sam how to do it, Bucky has to know.
“Okay, Bucky.” You give him a small smile. “Can I tell you, though? Just in case?”
He sighs, slumping back against the couch with a nod. “Yeah. Go.”
“Drink my blood, then feed me yours.”
Bucky blinks at you, his mouth falling open slightly, and the look of pure, slack shock in his face is kind of adorable. “Like a vampire?”
“I think it’s more like a satanic ritual.” You shrug. “But yes.”
“And that-“ Bucky shakes his head, the metal hand tracing slowly up and down your spine. “Is that all there is? No other insane shit I have to do? No magic quests?”
You laugh softly. “No magic quests, Bucky. But- If Miles is still… part of this-“
Bucky groans, tipping his head back. “No, come on-“
“I know, I’m sorry-“
“That’s so gross, Butterfly-“
“I didn’t design it- Bucky-“
You squeal as he rolls you over, pinning you beneath him. There’s a strangely serious expression on his face, and you just blink up at him with wide eyes, clinging to his shirt.
“Listen to me,” he mutters your name, and he’s saying that like there’s a single world in which you don’t. “We’re gonna get you out of this. All the way out of it. No more bond, no more Hydra, nothin’. Just whatever you want, Butterfly. Got it?”
It’s not going to be that easy. You know Bucky knows that, but he’s still saying it like it will be. Like he doesn’t know that somehow, this is going to end in the dark, with you trying to cling to him like a buoy in the storm.
But that’s kind of what you’re doing right now. And you don’t feel anywhere close to being lost, to giving up.
So you give him a small smile, and nod.
“Got it.” You whisper, and Bucky nods, still scanning over your face.
“Can I ask you somethin’?”
You shrug. “Am I going to like it?”
He chuckles, pinching your thigh, and you wiggle below him.
“James-“
“I think you will,” he drawls, dropping his weight to keep you trapped below him, and you wrinkle your nose. It’s hard not to think about how close he is. How he’s pressing his hips down enough that you can feel all of him, and it feels big.
“This is a mean tactic, Barnes.” You mutter, and Bucky just smirks.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Butterfly. Can I ask the question?”
You flush, but nod, and Bucky speaks carefully.
“You can… see the future.”
“Yeah.” You raise your brows. “I mean, not at will, but-“ Fuck. You have to tell him about it. “It was the first thing to… slip.”
Bucky blinks at you. “Slip?”
“To happen without the bond.” You whisper. “Just- Randomly.”
“Ah.” He pauses, his tongue flicking over his lips. “You ever see us?”
You swallow and nod, and Bucky’s nostrils flare, his voice dropping slightly.
“What do you see?”
“Us.”
He sighs your name, and you shake your head, tugging on his collar.
“No, I- I see us, Bucky.” Your voice waivers slightly, but you force yourself to push on. “You and me, together, and- We ride the Ferris wheel and go to the farmers market and eat lunch, and-“ A hot, vivid memory—but is it a memory, if it’s never even fucking happened—of Bucky’s head between your thighs flashes over your vision, and you cough. “Other stuff.”
He’s still staring at you. Still hanging over you, and everywhere, and it’s going to light you on fire. “Other stuff?”
It’s not fair, how low his voice is. “Yeah.”
“Ah.” Bucky clears his throat, and slowly lowers himself down until his nose it bumping yours, his breath warm over your face. “And is that what you want, Butterfly.”
You blink at him, every thought feeling hazy. “Other stuff.”
“Yeah.” He murmurs. “And, y’know. A future. With the farmers market. And lunch.”
“I- I-“
“And before you tell me.” His throat bobs, and his gaze is driving right into you, making you feel bare. Vulnerable. Exposed in every piece of you that you’ve shown him, and making the ones you tried to hide shine.
But you’re really beyond caring. You know Bucky wouldn’t hurt you. Ever. You know it over your bones and up your spine, filling up your lungs like oxygen because you trust him more than your own hands. They have tried to hurt you.
Bucky’s the only one who, even when he hated you, never aimed to kill.
And you don’t know how you even hated him.
He’s the best place in the whole fucking world.
“James-“ You whisper, and he shakes his head, running his hand up your side.
“I love you.” He says, gently grabbing your chin to keep your eyes on his. “I love every fuckin’ part of you that you’ve shown me, and someone like me is always lucky to get a second chance. Anyone is lucky to get you.” His throat bobs, his voice becoming hoarse. “I must have done God a favor I don’t remember, Butterfly, if my second chance gets to be you. And don’t argue with me,” he says your name with a stern look, and you close your mouth. “You’re good, babydoll. And if you want me, I’m already fuckin’ yours.”
You blink at him slowly, and you know he means it. Bucky doesn’t lie.
Not about this.
And under his gaze, under his touch, you do feel good. Not perfect. Not like a sunshine goddess or whatever, as if nothing has ever been wrong in the world, as if you’ve never been wrong or on the ground in the dark.
But Bucky’s picked you up.
And you feel good.
“I- I would like a future. But I don’t really care what it looks like.” You grab his wrist with one hand, the other wrapping around his next. “I just want it to be with you.”
He nods slowly, his gaze flicking down to your lips.
“So we handle this together. Partners.” His tongue flicks out, his eyes dragging back up to yours. “And then-“
“A future.” You whisper. “Also together?”
Bucky’s lips twitch. “Also together. Can I-“
You crash up before he can finish the sentence, and kiss him with every bit of love you can feel rushing through you. You try to say it, when you pull slightly away, but Bucky pulls you right back, and swallows the sound with his mouth.
It’s a hot, heavy kiss. Sloppy with your leg hooking around his waist and his arm caging you by your back. But it’s also slow. Because you don’t have time, but with Bucky, there’s a luxury of its illusion.
You could spend the rest of your life here. Just kissing him, until he’s all you can taste and feel. Until his low groans echo in your ears for the rest of your life. Never going further, because he’s a gentleman that draws back for ragged breaths before kissing you again, a little slower, and keeps your hips pinned to the couch cushions without friction.
But it’s enough.
It’s Bucky, so it’s more than you ever could have dreamed.
And when life comes crashing it—because it always does—he’s not going to leave you alone. And you’ll get through it together.
Then you’ll have real time. To waste with him, like it’s nothing.
And you’ll waste it.
With Bucky, you’d waste the rest of the world away just to see him grin at you, one more time.