Chapter Text
A week went by far too quickly and then you were back at the compound and back to the impending reality of a fight you weren't ready to win. Tony and Bruce were in contact with Shuri and they were devising a way to remove the Mind Stone from Vision, the hope being that once that was accomplished, Wanda would be able to destroy it. Thor left in search of a new weapon, “the Thanos killing kind”, as he put it.
Days turned into weeks with nothing happening. It became harder to feel like the threat was urgent. Steve had started additional training exercises trying to keep everyone alert and ready, some scheduled, some spontaneous. This morning happened to be one of those spontaneous times.
You had been split into teams and sent into the woods with the goal of guarding your designated homebase and capturing a weapon from the opposing team. Due to the looming threat, you had a heavier than usual roster, so you ended up with Sam, Wanda, and Clint white somewhere out in the trees Steve, Nat, Bucky, and Vision plotted their approach.
You stood at the ready, bow drawn, your team’s ‘weapon’ (which happened to be an unmarked steel box) on a rock behind you. Sam and Wanda were doing perimeter checks and Clint was just in sight, up a nearby tree. You chuckled to yourself as it occurred to you this was basically Avengers Capture the Flag.
You gripped your bow, eyes scanning your surroundings as you tried to ignore the churning in your stomach. You woke feeling drained, as it was, but being immediately ushered out to a mock fight when dawn was barely breaking had you feeling nauseated. You felt acid in your throat and choked it back, just in time to feel Steve’s shield whizzing through the air past your head. You ducked and shot an arrow in the direction it came from, searching for your assailant. Before you could turn, a foot kicked at the back of your knee, sending you toward the ground. You managed to twist and recover, swinging your bow back to clip your attacker (whom you assumed was Steve) in the shoulder. He grunted and rolled, blocking your next attack and grabbing your wrist.
But it wasn’t Steve. “Morning, Mrs Barnes,” Bucky drawled as he cocked his head and gave you a lopsided grin. He easily grabbed your other wrist when you tried to counter attack, twisting around until he had you pinned to his chest.
“Switching weapons isn’t fair play,” you complained. You dropped to your knees, trying to use his hold on your arms against him and his top heavy-stance made him falter, allowing you to wriggle free and grab your bow once more.
Before you could make another move, an arrow flew out of the nearby tree, checking Bucky’s thigh, little bursts of electricity dancing over his armor. Bucky grit his teeth and cursed, pulling the arrow out, snapping his head back to see Clint dropping down from the tree, bow aimed at him again.
You took advantage of the distraction, landing a heavy kick to Bucky’s knee. He went down, rolling to the side, and popping back up in one motion. You ran for the shield that was laying in the grass a few yards away, leaving Bucky to contend with Clint. Grabbing Cap’s shield, you swung in a circle, aiming it for Bucky while he and Clint swung at each other, and let it fly, Bucky caught it right out of the air with his vibranium arm and you groaned with a curse.
You heard a second set of footsteps behind you and turned just in time to see Natasha slide across the ground, aiming for you and you felt one of her bites land in your bicep. It was a low intensity version for training, not harmful, but it still hurt plenty. You cursed as you grabbed at it, yanking it free. You turned back, meaning to engage her, but suddenly your skin felt clammy and you felt your pulse spike.
Natasha clearly noticed because she stepped to your side and pulled your hair out of the way just in time for you to vomit across the square of grass where she had been standing. You put your hands on your knees and you doubled over as you continued to empty the contents of your stomach. You took some deep breaths and tried to steady yourself once it was through.
Bucky dropped the shield and bolted for you. Clint was on coms talking to Steve. You felt like your ears might be ringing a little and you missed the conversation. You felt Bucky grabbing your shoulders and you turned to look at him.
“Hey, baby, you alright?” His eyes scanned you for signs of injury, brows furrowed in concern.
You shook your head slowly, still feeling a little of the nausea. “I think so. I woke up feeling out of it. I probably just caught a bug.”
Clint came to stand at your side, looking you up and down, much the same as Bucky had, trying to decide if you were worse off than you said, no doubt. You watched his face change, the crease in his brow becoming considerably deeper, and his stance became heavier as he crossed his arms. You gave him a puzzled look, but he ignored you, his jaw setting.
Steve was jogging to you and came to a halt in front of Bucky.
“What happened? We were supposed to be using non-lethals,” Steve gave pointed stares to each of you.
“Relax, Cap, no one is hurt,” Natasha assured him.
“I’m just sick, Steve, it’s fine. Probably just a stomach flu or something,” you replied.
Steve nodded, but before he could say more, Bucky was picking you up, cradling you to his chest. “Yeah, you’re done for today,” he declared. He turned and started walking back to the compound.
You caught Steve’s eye over his shoulder as you left and mouthed ‘sorry’ offering an apologetic look.
Steve sighed, dropping his head. “I thought I gave the orders,” he quietly remarked, eyes on Bucky’s back as he walked you both away.
“Shove it up your ass, Steve. She’s my wife,” Bucky yelled back.
Natasha noticed Clint’s eyes boring into you as you quickly faded from view. She cocked an eyebrow. “She’ll be fine, Barton.”
Clint turned to face her and sighed. “She will if I’m wrong. Otherwise, it’ll be a lot more complicated.”
Natasha and Steve both frowned at him in confusion.
“Clint, what the hell does that mean?” Nat asked.
“Cap, do me a favor and call the grumpy cyborg back out here for a while. I need to talk to Kes.” Clint jogged off after you and Bucky.
Steve put his hands on his hips and watched Clint disappear as well. “Okay, I really AM supposed to be the one giving the orders,” Steve said with just the slightest hint of exasperation.
Natasha grinned, giving him a coy smile. “I let you order me around, and most people can’t say the same. That’s gotta count for something.”
***
“Bucky, I’m fine,” you insisted as he tucked the comforter up around you again. “I am not the first person in existence to catch a stomach bug. Just let me sleep it off.”
Bucky eyed you suspiciously, wondering, just like Clint had, if you were worse off than you were letting on. “You’re sure you don’t need me to stay?”
You placed your hands on either side of his face and gave him a smile. “I know you don’t remember, since the last time you were sick was like eighty years ago, but people don’t suddenly drop dead from nausea.”
You laughed when Bucky rolled his eyes, but you pushed him away just the same.
“I heard Steve calling you back out before you took my com,” you reminded him. “You better go.”
Bucky groaned and rolled his eyes again. “Steve’s just being a dick because I didn’t let him tell me what to do.”
“Steve’s just doing his job and you need to do yours, which just so happens to include doing what he says,” you pointed out.
There was a knock at the door and Bucky got up to open it. Clint was waiting on the other side. “Cap’s lookin’ for you,” he told Bucky as he walked in the room.
“So I’ve been told,” Bucky grumbled watching Clint walk over and sit next to you on the bed.
“I’ll stay with her for a bit, Barnes. Go on,” Clint encouraged, taking off his boots and climbing over to sit on Bucky’s side.
“Just make yourself right at home, why don’t you, Barton,” Bucky said sarcastically as he started for the door.
“Hey, I’m not the one that told Cap to shove it up his ass. I’m technically retired. I only have to do what he says if I feel like it,” Clint remarked with equal sarcasm.
Bucky ignored him, pausing to look at you from the doorway. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll be back whenever Steve decides I’ve learned my lesson.”
You laughed and signed that you loved him as he shut the door behind him.
You turned to fix Clint with a skeptical look. “Hawk, I’m honestly feeling fine now, just tired. I don’t need a babysitter to take a nap,” you told him as you raised an eyebrow. “So did you just come in here to piss off my husband or to help Steve prove a point?”
Clint’s face was stone, and your own faltered. “I think you need to take a test.”
You tilted your head, further arching your brow in confusion. “... like for math or to find out my personality type?”
Clint shifted a little to face you. “Kes,” he paused to make sure you saw how serious he was. “I think you need to take a pregnancy test,” he specified.
You blinked at him for a moment, your brain catching up to his words, before you burst out laughing. You shook your head adamantly. “I’m not pregnant, Clint, there’s no way,” you assured him.
Clint gave you a completely incredulous look. “There’s no way,” he said, the words dripping with sarcasm. “Because you guys certainly haven’t been fucking like rabbits for months now.”
You sat up, eyes wide, your jaw practically on the floor. “Clint, I am going to try and forget you said that, but I probably can’t because it is now burned in my brain.” You shuddered with a grimace. “Isn’t there some unspoken rule that dad’s don’t talk about their daughter’s sex lives?!”
Clint just laughed and put an arm around your shoulders when you buried your face in your hands. You slumped against his side as you quietly laughed too.
“What makes you think you would be able to tell, anyway; did you acquire an ability and forget to tell anyone?” You asked when the laughter quieted down.
“I’ve got three kids, Kes, I can see the signs. I knew Laura was pregnant with Nathaniel before she did,” Clint answered.
“Fair enough. But still,” you said as you sat up and grabbed your phone. “I can’t be pregnant. My last birth control shot was…” You paused as you scrolled through your calendar. You kept scrolling. Your face fell as you finally landed on the date marked. “... oh my- shit,” you breathed in quiet shock.
“Clint…” You turned to look at him as you felt the color draining from your face. “I think I need to take a test.”
***
A clandestine trip to the medical wing and 30 minutes later, you were sitting on the edge of the tub in your bathroom, staring and waiting. You could feel your pulse steadily rising and you were physically forcing yourself to keep taking breaths so you didn’t pass out. You heard a knock on the door.
“Can I come in now?” Clint asked, muffled through the barrier.
“Yeah,” you quietly replied, eyes never leaving your counter.
You heard the door open and then Clint was sitting beside you. You sat in silence as you stared and waited. Slowly, the colors changed and you felt all the blood drain to your feet.
Two pink lines, unmistakable and prominent. There they were, staring back at you. It was real.
And then your vision went black and you were quickly headed backwards, if not for Clint’s quick reaction.
“Woah, okay, nope, wrong way,” he eased you down to sit on the cool, tiled floor instead. “Cracking your skull open isn’t going to help.”
You just stared straight ahead in absolute shock. “I can hit a moving target the size of a dime from 200 yards in 30 mile an hour winds… BUT I CAN’T REMEMBER TO GET MY BIRTH CONTROL SHOT ONCE EVERY 3 MONTHS?!” You shouted at no one in particular, words echoing off the tiles.
You looked at Clint and you knew he was fighting not to laugh.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” You shouted and then your head was in your hands again. “What do I do? Do I tell Bucky? Will he be upset? Or happy? Will he hate me if I don't want to keep it? Could I even do that to him? Oh my God, what the fuck am I gonna do?” You spiraled, panic and tears swimming in your eyes.
“Alright, slow down,” Clint soothed as he sat down next to you. “Right now, what you have to do is breathe so you don't pass out. Okay?”
You didn't respond, so he took your hand and placed it on his chest. “Breathe with me, Kes. Just breathe. That's it.”
You felt your breaths even out slowly as you mimicked the pattern you felt in his chest. You eased back to rest against the tub, shutting your eyes. Clint let several minutes of quiet settle in before he spoke.
“You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, Kes. You get to decide. And it doesn't have to be today. You can take your time. But no matter what,” he looked at you, strength and sincerity in his eyes, just like his words. “This is your choice and I'll support you.”
“What about him?” You quietly asked, looking back at him.
Clint felt his heart break a little at the fear and uncertainty he saw on your face. He reached over to pull you against his side and you immediately curled into him. He kissed your head.
“He'll support you too. I know he will,” Clint assured you. “And if for some God-awful reason, he turns out to be a complete asshole and he doesn't, then you walk away.”
“I don't think I could,” you said honestly. “I don't think I have the strength to walk away from him, no matter what happens.”
“Sure you could. You can come back to the farm with me and I'll put him in the ground and you'll never have to see him again.”
“Clint,” you chided. “If, under some catastrophic circumstance, we ever split up, you can't just kill him.”
“It won't come to that, kid, don't worry,” he said with a reassuring pat.
“I still don't know what to do now,” you said with a sigh.
Clint nodded. “Alright, first things first,” he got to his feet and reached out his hand. “We get off the floor.”
You grabbed it and he pulled you up next to him. “Now what?”
“Now, we hide the evidence, at least until you decide what you want to do,” he grabbed the test and box off the counter, threw them in the trash and then took the bag from the bin and tied it off.
“I'll take out the trash,” he offered. “While I'm gone, you should call Laura. She'll have a perspective I don't.”
You nodded as you followed him out of the bathroom. You walked over to sit back on the bed and he headed toward the door.
“You're coming back, right, Hawk?” You sheepishly asked when he reached the door. “I lied, I definitely need a babysitter right now.”
“I'll be right back, I promise,” he replied. “We can watch movies and eat snacks and I'm sure you'll need a nap. Okay?”
“Okay,” you agreed.
He headed out, and you settled against your pillows, grabbing your phone to call Laura.
You waited for her to pick up and when you heard her quiet yet cheerful greeting, your heart leapt into your throat. It occurred to you that you had to say it out loud.
You took a deep breath. “So… I fucked up.”
***
After you eventually hung up with Laura, you must have fallen asleep because the next thing you knew Clint was shaking your shoulder to wake you up.
“Hey,” he said quietly. “I'm sorry to wake you, but Bucky is headed back and I wanted to make sure you weren't blindsided.”
You sat up, feeling groggy and a bit disoriented. “Alright, thank you.”
“You want me to make up some excuse to keep him out for a bit longer?” Clint offered.
“No,” you shook your head. “He'll just get worried and probably ignore you anyway. It's okay. I can deal with it.”
Clint watched you for a beat, deciding if he thought that was true, but he slowly nodded. He stood, grabbing his jacket from the foot of the bed.
“There's no pressure, Kes, I promise,” he said as he turned back to you. “But do you have any idea how far along you are?”
“Just going by my calendar, I'm guessing like maybe 8 or 9 weeks? I guess I need to see a doctor,” you remarked quietly.
“When you're ready,” Clint reiterated. He leaned in to kiss your forehead. “Call if you need me, kid, or just show up at the house; you know you always can. Love ya.”
You signed that you loved him too as he left.
You waited in nervous silence for Bucky. You realized you needed to project at least the semblance of calm or he would needle it out of you as soon as he walked in, so you settled back into your blankets, turned on a sitcom, and tried to relax.
Bucky opened the door a few minutes later. He smiled at you as he toed off his boots and stripped out of his tactical gear. He sat beside you, leaning in to give you a gentle kiss.
“You feelin’ better, doll?” He scooted you over so he could sit back against the headboard and pulled you back to rest against his chest.
“Yeah, I think so,” you replied, placing a careful smile on your face and snuggling into him. “What time is it?”
“Like 2 something,” Bucky replied. “Clint said you fell asleep a few hours ago. Are you still nauseous or do you want some lunch?”
You twisted your lip in thought. The honest answer was that you were famished and felt like you could eat the entire fridge, but that answer would not balance well with your gastro-pyrotechnics earlier so you tempered your response. “I should probably eat something, yeah.”
“Okay,” Bucky responded. He gently nudged you to sit up and got back off the bed.
You moved to get up too, but he pressed you back down.
“You stay, love. I’ll get it,” Bucky insisted.
“I’m fine, Buck,” you reiterated as you tried to stand.
You managed to get as far as your legs over the side of the bed this time before Bucky halted you once again. He placed his hands firmly on your waist, holding you down. You looked up at him with annoyance.
“I’m not dying. I can get my own sandwich,” you said. You watched as he slowly bent to rest on his knees in front of you.
“I know, baby,” had said as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed his head to your chest. “But can’t you just let me take care of you?”
You sighed and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hands stroking through his hair. “I guess if you insist,” you relented.
“Good,” he agreed.
He slowly stood up, keeping his grip around you, his head still pressed to your chest, and used the change in position to push you back down on the bed. You saw a coy smile on his lips as he turned and kissed your chest then your stomach, slowly moving his way down your body. You sighed at his touch when his hands slid under your tshirt and caressed your skin. His lips continued down, laying kissing against the fabric of your shirt until he reached your lower belly and he pushed the shirt out of the way to kiss your skin.
Your hands carded through his hair and he kissed you again, lower this time, lips dragging across the skin of your lower belly. He nuzzled you with his nose and then laid his head against your abdomen, tilting to look up at you. You smiled, continuing to gently run your nails over his scalp. You watched his eyes fall closed and a contented sigh pass his lips and your smile grew.
He stayed there for a moment, rested against your belly, hands rubbing gently up and down your sides and you thought it might lull you back to sleep. Then his hands suddenly stilled and felt him tense, ever so slightly. You shifted so you could better see his face. His eyes were open now and he looked like he was concentrating, almost like he was confused.
You sat up on your elbows. “Buck?” You gave him a questioning look. “What’s wrong?”
Bucky snapped his head up to look at you almost like you had startled him and your frown deepened. You sat up and put a hand on his shoulder. You watched him swallow and he shook his head a bit before returning a quiet smile to his face.
“Nothing, doll, don’t worry,” he smoothly replied. “I just remembered I told Steve I would help him sort through some intel once I checked on you. He’s still sore about earlier,” he assured you with a crooked grin.
You narrowed your eyes because that was clearly an excuse or half-truth of some kind, but you made a decision to let it go.
“Okay…” you replied. “Well, you better go, then. You’ve pissed him off enough for one day. I can get myself something to eat.”
“No,” Bucky firmly replied, leaving no room for argument. He picked you up and tucked you neatly back into bed like he had earlier. “You need to rest. Stay right here. I’ll get Clint to make you something and he can stay with you until I get back.”
You huffed and crossed your arms. “Listen, Barnes, I have been dealing with minor stomach bugs my entire existence. They do not require round the clock care.”
“Just humor me, doll, please?” Bucky’s eyes were a shade of pleading that took you by surprise and whatever insistent retort you were preparing died on your tongue.
“Yeah, alright, Bucky, I’ll stay here,” you promised him. You gave him a warm smile, hoping to dissuade whatever was causing him to be this anxious.
“Thank you,” he replied as he leaned in and tenderly kissed your forehead. He pulled back and rested his own against it. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, baby. I love you.”
The sincerity in his words caught you off guard, feeling rather disproportionate to an afternoon spent separated by nothing more than a few yards of grass and a building. But you returned the sentiment nonetheless.
You watched him step through the door and close it behind him with one last look at you. You sat back and crossed your arms, realizing once again how hungry you actually were, and hoped Clint did indeed bring lunch soon, since you had agreed not to get up.
After a few minutes, you gave up and ordered a pizza, texting Clint that to let him know so he could grab it when it arrived. Well, pizza… and garlic knots and a calzone, because it sounded good, and then a salad for good measure. Damn baby clearly had his father’s super soldier sized appetite already.
***
Bucky managed to get the door closed, walk down the hallway, and enter the kitchen before he had to sit down and take a breath. What the hell was that? He was fighting to keep his mind from jumping to all the worst conclusions as he analyzed what had just happened.
The serum meant enhanced everything, including all his senses. He was used to the sounds he heard that others didn’t. Specifically, he was used to your sounds. He could pick your heartbeat out of a crowd, even before, when you were just friends, he memorized the sound of your breathing. And now, after things changed, he had spent enough time with his head pressed to your body that he knew what you were supposed to sound like.
So what the hell had he just heard? This sound was new and immediately he felt fear coursing through his veins. Were you sick? And if you were, would you be okay? His mind was threatening to reel and he stood up, determined to run right to the lab and get Bruce to come see you right away.
He turned back to the door and saw Clint walking in holding a pizza box and a plastic bag. Clint set the things down on the counter. And turned back to Bucky, brow furrowed. “You still want me to babysit or are you done with whatever you were doing?”
Bucky just stared for a moment and Clint’s frown deepened. “Barnes, you okay?”
“Did she seem okay to you earlier? I mean other than the puking, did she seem normal? Did she mention anything else not feeling right or any pain?”
Clint swallowed as he felt the deep concern that practically radiated off Bucky’s person. He didn’t know what had him worked up, but he was sure you would have let him know if you decided to share your secret, so he planted his feet, crossed his arms, and played dumb.
“She was fine, just tired. Why? Did she say something to you?” Clint subtly prodded.
Bucky shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “No, she told me she was fine too, it’s just…” Bucky hestated, unsure how to explain what had his guard up. “I heard something… off. It’s hard to explain. Just the super senses means I can tell when something is off, and she doesn’t… sound the same,” he ran his hand down his face in frustration. Clint gave him a skeptical look. “I know how that sounds, don’t look at me like that.”
Then Clint shifted, face falling as he pieced together the words Bucky said with the knowledge he had. Bucky didn’t miss the change and he stood up straighter, stepping a little closer to him.
“Clint… what do you know?”
Clint firmly shook his head. “Nope, this has nothing to do with me. Talk to your wife, Barnes”
Bucky’s eyes glinted with irritation, bordering on anger, and he stepped closer to Clint again, his stance almost threatening. He shifted to look down just a little at the slightly shorter man.
“Barton, you better fucking tell me what’s wrong with my wife, or I swear to God-” Bucky spat, but Clint held up a hand and stopped him.
“Nothing is wrong with her, I swear. She’s completely fine. You don’t need to worry,” Clint assured him. “And if you want more information, you have to ask her. She’s like my kid, Barnes, you know that, and I would do anything for her, but I won’t tell a secret that isn’t mine.”
That was when Steve walked in. He saw the two men standing by the island, locked in a staring contest. Bucky looked like he had murder in his eyes and Clint was not backing down. Steve cleared his throat. They both snapped their attention to him.
“If you two decide to kill each other, I’m pretty sure she’ll have Strange find a way to bring you back so she can kill you both herself,” Steve remarked coolly.
Clint backed up a step, grabbing the pizza box and plastic bag. “I better not let her pizza get cold,” was all he said before abruptly storming down the hall.
Steve watched him go and turned back to Bucky. The look on his face was all questions and confusion. “Buck, what the hell just happened? Barton can be an ass, but you looked like you might have broken his nose if I hadn’t walked in.”
Bucky just blinked, an angry frown still etched into his face. He finally unfolded his arms and relaxed his stance, sitting back on a barstool. “There’s something wrong with her, Steve, I can tell. He knows what it is and he wouldn’t say,” Bucky said, cursing Clint under his breath. He ran a hand down his face again.
Steve crossed to sit next to him. “What do you mean? How do you know something is wrong?”
“I could hear it, there was something different about the way she sounds, inside. I know you know what I mean. I’m sure you can hear things too; heart rates, breathing, digestion, even blood rushing if you’re close enough,” Bucky explained and Steve nodded.
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Steve agreed. “So what sounded different? Her heartbeat?”
Bucky shook his head. “I don’t think so. It was too quiet. And too fast. It was steady, but it was odd,” Bucky tried to explain. “And I couldn’t hear it near her chest. I only heard it when I got lower.”
Steve winced. “Okay, yeah, I get it,” Steve held up his hand, hoping to stop his friend before he said things he couldn’t unhear.
“Clint said she’s fine, but he wouldn’t tell me what’s wrong, said I had to talk to her,” Bucky further explained. “But I don’t believe him- I gotta go get Bruce or somebody to take a look-”
But he stopped when Steve put his hand on his arm and gave him a strange look. “It was steady and rhythmic? Really fast?”
Bucky nodded.
“... and you could only hear it when you were at her, uh,” Steve paused, searching for words for a moment, “Lower abdomen?”
Bucky nodded again, more slowly this time. He frowned questioningly as Steve’s expression fought back a grin.
“Steve, just tell me what the hell you’re getting at before I lose it,” Bucky demanded.
Steve couldn’t stop the grin as it spread on his face. “Did it sound like a heartbeat?”
“No, I already told you it was too fast and-”
“Buck… Are you sure it didn’t sound like another heartbeat?” Steve emphasized the word, giving Bucky a very pointed look and raising his eyebrow.
For a moment Bucky looked angry. He rose from the stool, frustration bubbling, and he took a breath, ready to shout, because Steve apparently wasn’t listening and now he was practically laughing and-
“Oh, shit,” Bucky basically whispered, and he stumbled back, promptly slumping onto the stool once again.
“Congrats, pal, I think you’re gonna be a dad,” Steve said with a chuckle.
Bucky couldn’t form words. He stared at the floor as the idea sunk in, trying to reorganize his thoughts. Slowly, he lifted his eyes to Steve again. Steve grinned back at him.
“Oh, my God, I think I’m gonna be a dad,” Bucky said back, like he was trying to convince himself it could be the truth, but the completely overwhelming smile that crawled slowly across his face and practically illuminated him was unmistakable.
Steve laughed and clapped him on the back. “I’m happy for you guys. Now, go celebrate with your girl.”
Bucky’s smile faltered and the reality of the situation began to set in. You hadn’t told him yet. That meant you still hadn’t figured out how you felt; or what you wanted. He chewed nervously at his lip.
Steve frowned. “What’s wrong, Buck, are you nervous?”
“She said she didn’t want this,” Bucky told him. He sat back and ran his hand through his hair a few times. “She was pretty clear that having a kid wasn’t part of her plan. I told her I was okay with that.”
“Maybe she changed her mind,” Steve suggested with a hopeful smile.
“Maybe,” Bucky half-heartedly agreed. “But, either way, I think I need to wait for her to tell me. This has to be up to her.”
Steve nodded and gave him a reassuring pat on the back. “You’re right, pal, it is up to her. Just give her some time and make sure she knows you’re there, whatever happens.”
Bucky let out a long breath. “Steve, I don’t even know what I want to happen, if I’m being honest.”
“You don’t have to. You just have to love her no matter what the outcome is. You can do that, right?”
Bucky gave him an almost offended look. “I do love her, no matter what the outcome. There’s no question.”
“Then that’s all you need to do. Just love her, Buck. Everything else will work itself out.”
“That’s good advice, Steve. When did your stubborn, dumb ass get to be so wise?” Bucky gave his friend a smirk.
“Right about the same time I became taller than your reckless, dumb ass,” Steve countered and they both laughed.