Chapter Text
Bucky loved September evenings, where the sun bleached the sky orange to match the turning leaves in the early evenings, but it wasn’t too cold to enjoy being outside. He had Steve’s left hand in his right, and he could feel the pressure of their engagement rings being pushed together as he intertwined their fingers.
“I forget how quiet it can be,” Steve said, though whether the comment was meant for Bucky’s ears or not, he was unsure. They’d decided to take a walk, after dinner, around Brooklyn and the places they used to go. Steve’s home was long gone, but they visited the neighbourhood all the same, and then walked further. They did this on their date nights, just taking a general moment to explore. Natasha had insisted that they left the apartment for time to themselves, once in a while, and at first, they hadn’t enjoyed the idea of leaving Nina- if they were going places, she should be with them, to explore the world with them, because for all of them, it was new to one degree or another. They’d caved when Nina had asked to go to Danny’s for a sleepover, three weeks into their first semester of first grade. Natasha had kicked them out of the apartment to stop them from going insane worrying about her- even though she’d be perfectly fine, and Danny’s mom had promised to call if they needed anything, and thus, date night was born for them.
They made sure to have Danny over a lot, as a thank you but also because he was quickly becoming Nina’s best friend, and to make Makayla’s life easier so she didn’t have to pay for babysitters and could spend some time to herself. (They may or may not have bought her a spa day for her birthday, and there may or may not have been something very close to an argument as she tried to insist she couldn’t take their gift, until they repeatedly told her it was not a pity gift but she was their friend and they were allowed to do nice things for their friends. Natasha had been proud they’d made a friend outside of the Avengers- it was good for them. Tony was a little miffed, until Nina so kindly pointed out that they were more than friends, we’re family, Uncle Tony, don’t be so silly!)
If they found anywhere amazing, they always made sure to bring Nina back- all the waiters and waitresses in the diner where Michael used to work knew the three of them by name. They took her to the park they used to play in, and the art museums that Steve loved so much. They took her to the fairs over the summer, and ate candy floss and went on every ride and played every game Nina wanted.
“I always wanted to do this with you,” Bucky told Steve the evening they went to the fair alone. “I wanted to come with you, without the girls, and take you on a proper date like now, win you a stuffed bear and all that crap.”
“I’m glad my fiancé thinks being sweet is crap,” Steve teased, and Bucky poked his side. He couldn’t help but grin when Steve said ‘fiancé’.
“Did I ever tell you that you look like a million bucks tonight? Like the best thing I ever laid eyes on?”
“Real smooth tryna butter me up like that, Buck, truly. Real swell.”
“What can I say? Anything for you, doll.” Steve had rolled his eyes at him then, and kissed him. Steve wondered if kissing Bucky would always feel like the first time- too much and too hot and just perfect.
At first, Bucky didn’t recognised the neighbourhood they’d wondered into, he’d been so wrapped up in his thoughts and the comfortable quiet that came with just walking with someone you had known your whole life- never silence, though, with Steve’s intermittent humming and occasional conversation.
“Hey Stevie?”
Steve made a small hum of acknowledgment, still very much wrapped up in his own thoughts, as he often got.
“This used to be a nice neighbourhood, didn’t it?” Bucky asked, and stopped walking. He was pretty sure his memory was right, but it was fuzzy around the edges, like an out of focus camera. Sometimes, he just needed the clarification. Steve stopped as abruptly as he did, and blinked back into focus, looking at Bucky and then at his surroundings. The houses were old, and not well maintained, with chipping paint and poorly done touch ups. Every pavestone was cracked, and there were those post-war flats like concrete boxes at the end of the street. A couple of windows were boarded up on a fair few of the houses.
“It was, once. Not as nice as it could have been, if they bothered to put any money into it, but nice enough. Seemed they never put any money into it.”
“It’s a real shame-” Bucky started, but then he heard a shout.
“Did you-” Steve said, his shoulders suddenly very tense. There was a scream.
“Round the corner, you take the right, I’ll take the left,” Bucky ground out, and they ran. Nobody else seemed bothered by the noise their neighbours were making. As Bucky and Steve rounded the corner, they realised they didn’t need to split up. Maybe thirty feet away from them, a kid had been pushed to the floor, and there was a woman screaming at them. None of the neighbours were interfering, just a couple thinking they were being stealthy as they spied the scene through the crack in the curtains. Bucky wanted to slap them.
Steve was running ahead, and as Bucky got closer he could make out that the kid, the boy, was about sixteen. His hair was covering most of his face, reaching down to his shoulders. He was in pyjamas, old pyjamas that barely reached his ankles, and had one shoe on. The woman was still yelling at him from the top of the stairs up to the building entrance.
“AND YOU CAN STAY OUTTA MY HOUSE, YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE SHIT!”
The kid was holding his arm close to his chest, and it was at an odd angle. She’d pushed him down the stairs. As Bucky gets closer, he realises there are bruises blooming across the kids face and arms, and his ankle is swelling up fast.
He spotted Bucky and Steve, and was looking at them like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing- Bucky wondered if he’d hit his head on the way down the stairs, whether he’d recognised them or was just shocked to be getting help. Steve was crouched next to him in a matter of seconds, careful not to touch him, though, and the kid’s jaw hit the floor.
“Hey, buddy, can you hear me?” Steve asked quietly, and when he didn’t reply, he signed can you hear me just in case- Clint had taught them a few basics for when they needed to get his attention. The kid’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed.
“Yeah I can hear you.” His voice was small and raspy, and Steve immediately went about fretting over him.
“Okay, okay what’s your name, buddy?” Steve asked, and the kid opened and closed his mouth like a fish a couple of times before finally giving Steve his name.
“Matt.”
“You okay with me taking a look at your arm?” Steve asked, his hands held out, and the kid, Mat, shrunk back. Steve’s whole body moved with his deep breath, and his gaze flicked over to Bucky, who was stood a few feet from them. Bucky had a glove on over his metal hand, because he really hadn’t felt like bothering with the fake flesh sleeve today, but kids always recognised him and Steve. The one glove was a little suspect, also, but lots of people did that.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Came a screech from behind Bucky, as he took a step toward Steve and the kid. Bucky whipped his head around to look at her. She was large, almost as tall as he was, he suspected, and her nose and cheeks were an angry red in contrast to her pasty skin- probably from drinking too much. “Stop helping him!”
“Buck,” Steve warned, and he vaguely registered the Matt’s quiet, holy shit as he pulled off his glove to reveal his metal hand. He stalked up the stairs to the woman, whose gaze was flicking from his hand to his thunderous face.
“You do not get to tell me what to do,” Bucky growls. She’s visibly shaking, and her breath stinks of cheap liquor, and Bucky grinds his teeth to quell a possibly quite violent episode. He’s been here before, facing down a drunk with a penchant for leaving bruises on people’s faces, and he is very actively not thinking about George Barnes yelling at his mother, telling her don’t help him, as he cried in the corner, pulling out bits of china embedded in his skin.
“Where are his things?” He asks, and she doesn’t reply, just gawps at him. He clenches his metal fist, purposefully scraping his fingertips against his palm so it makes an awful screech, just loud enough for her to hear. “Move.” He does not have to push her to the side, she kind of collapses against the door, and he runs into the building. The door to the flat on the first floor is open, so he heads in. There’s an empty bottle on its side on the coffee table, but other than that, there’s not really any evidence of anything untoward happening. The place is tidy, save for the pile of dirty dishes in the sink. Bucky doesn’t have a lot of difficulty finding Matt’s room- it’s sparse, and the wardrobe doors are wide open- there’s very few clothes. There’s a small suitcase on the floor, half packed with things spilling out of it. Bucky makes quick work of finishing packing the case with all Matt’s clothes and his other pair of shoes- he keeps the other one shoe, and his coat out so Matt can put them on when he goes outside. He rummages through the drawers, picking up anything that looked like it could mean something- a small photo album, a couple of letters, books, a phone, headphones. He grabs a rucksack of school supplies, zips up the suitcase, picks up the spare shoe and coat, and leaves.
He notices as he leaves that there are no photos of Matt around the flat.
The woman has not moved from where Bucky left her, but she seems to pull herself out of a close to catatonic state as she sees Bucky with Matt’s things.
“Where do you think you’re going with that?” Her words are slurring together, and Bucky narrows his eyes at her.
“We’re taking him.”
“You can’t do that! He’s mine! They pay me to look after him!”
“He is not yours, especially if you beat him.”
“This is illegal! You can’t do this! I’ll call the police!” Bucky laughs hollowly at her.
“And what, let them put you away for child abuse?” She stops spluttering at that, and stamps her foot like a child. Bucky keeps moving, walking toward Steve and Matt, who are both looking at him. Steve is frowning, and Matt looks dazed.
“I’ll see you in court!” The woman screeches, and Bucky ignores her. He shifts the school bag on his shoulder and hands Steve the other shoe.
“Hey kid, you think you can walk?” Steve asks, and Matt nods, letting Steve put his shoe on for him as he clings to his arm, which is in a make shift sling made out of Steve’s jumper. Now that Bucky’s closer, he can see that it’s not broken, just dislocated. Steve stands and gently lifts Matt to his feet, Bucky drapes his coat over his shoulders, and the three of them start walking back the way Steve and Bucky came. Matt’s limping, so they go slowly, and as they turn the corner, the woman stops yelling and they hear a door slam.
None of them talk. They make it half way down the next street before Steve stops and rounds on Matt, who’s been trying very hard to be quiet as he groans in pain with every other step.
“Alright enough. I’m gonna carry you, okay?” Steve says, and Matt begins to protest before Steve lifts him like he weighs absolutely nothing, and continues walking, carrying Matt bridal style. The kid whimpers as his arm is jostled. Bucky leans over and rearranges his coat, so it’s actually covering him.
“I can walk.”
“No, you can’t.”
Matt doesn’t argue beyond that, and Steve looks over at Bucky, with a grim expression on his face. Bucky nods and lifts his phone out of his pocket- there’s no way they can take him on the subway like this.
It takes three rings before Tony picks up the phone.
“Sup, Ice Man?”
“We need a car,” Bucky tells him, and Matt looks between him and Steve, asking where they’re going. “We’re taking you to our place, to keep you safe,” Bucky supplies, pulling away from the phone slightly, but Tony hears him all the same.
“Keeping who safe now?” He sounds entirely too gleeful for Bucky’s liking.
“We have a kid-” Bucky starts, but Tony interrupts.
“I know you do, I’m looking at her.” Bucky can practically hear the shit-eating grin he knows Tony is sporting. Never mind the fact that it’s nine in the evening, and Nina should be asleep in bed. He can hear her little voice in the background asking is that Papa or Daddy?
“With us. We have a kid with us and I know you know our location already so just send a fucking car, Stark. He’s injured.”
“Oh shit. On it.” Tony hangs up.
There’s a bus stop about ten paces from where they are, so they make their way over and Steve sets Matt down between them. Bucky is hunched over and glaring at the ground like he could burn lasers into it, which leaves Steve to do the talking.
“So…Matt. That’s short for something, right?” He says, and Matt looks genuinely surprised that Steve is talking to him.
“Yeah, yeah it’s short for Wematin,” he says quietly, pronouncing each syllable very carefully. Weh-mayt-ahn. Steve repeats it back, slowly.
“It’s a cool name,” Steve says, and Matt actually smiles a little bit- though it could be a grimace, with his shoulder the way it was.
“People usually don’t bother trying, so I go with Matt,” he says, and then looks a little surprised that he trusts them with this information. But Steve is Captain America, and has that kinda face, people tend to trust him.
“S’better than Buchanan,” Bucky mumbles, and Steve snorts.
“He was gay,” Matt says, nonchalantly.
“What?” Bucky turns to him, and wonders for a moment if Matt had recognised them at all, and was talking about Bucky Barnes as if he weren’t right there next to him.
“James Buchanan the president. He was gay.” The kid clears up with a shrug, and Steve is snickering and looking at Bucky. Bucky knows exactly what he’s thinking: that makes two of you, and he childishly sticks his tongue out at Steve, who just laughs more. Matt is looking at Bucky with his eyebrow raised. Now Bucky’s closer, he can see a purplish bruise on his left cheekbone and another on his jaw on the opposite side.
“You gonna let Steve pop your arm back into place?” Bucky asks, because Matt is still clinging to his right arm, and breathing hard. Bucky’s impressed he’s managed to keep so quiet about being in as much pain as he must be in.
“Is it gonna hurt?”
“Yeah but it’ll hurt more if you leave it dislocated.”
“Fine. But you do it.” He says as he glances at Bucky’s metal hand. Bucky looks over to Steve, who just shrugs at him. Bucky shrugs off his coat and lays it on the ground so the kid doesn’t have to put his head on the pavement, and Steve helps Matt lie down, before sitting right next to him, pulling his other hand away from his dislocated shoulder. Matt grips it tight and whimpers as Bucky moves his arm to the correct position so he can relocate it.
“This is gonna hurt. A lot. So you scream and cry and do whatever you need,” Bucky tells him quietly, and Matt whimpers. Steve runs the hand that isn’t in Matt’s vice grip through the boy’s hair. Bucky kneels next to him, and slowly but surely rotates his shoulder back into place. Matt does cry, and he only shouts once when the shoulder finally goes back into place with an audible clunk.
“Hey kid can you flex your fingers for me?” Bucky asks, and Matt does with a whimper. “It’s gonna hurt for a while, but it’s not so bad now, right?” Matt just nods, but he sits up without help from either of them. Steve helps him back onto the bus stop bench, helps him put on his coat properly, and Bucky picks up his coat off the pavement and puts it back on.
A car arrives a few minutes later.
It doesn’t take long before they’re back at Stark tower. Tony himself had come to pick them up, and had chattered the whole way there, enough for the three of them in the back to stay quiet. He and Steve had squashed up on either side of Matt, comically large body guards in the back of the car with him. Steve’s knees were practically squashed up to his chest. As they came up to Stark tower, Matt was leaning forward to look between the two front seats.
“Fucking hell,” he breathed, and before he could stop himself, Steve mumbled watch your language. Matt looked at him like he’d grown another head.
Tony parked the car, and the four of them made their way toward the elevator. Matt refused to let Steve carry him again.
“Barnes-Rogers residence, Jarvis, and then the penthouse,” Tony called out.
“Right away, sir,” the AI replied, and Matt looked to the ceiling.
“What the fuck?” He turned to Tony, almost accusatory.
“Artificial intelligence, so I can have a British butler.”
“I’m glad you think so highly of me, sir,” Jarvis says, sounding as sarcastic as a robot can be.
“Artificial Intelligence like Ultron?” Matt asks, a little wary, and Tony’s grin drops.
“No. Not like Ultron.”
“Cool,” is all Matt has to say. They stay in silence up until their floor, as announced by Jarvis, and Steve grips Matt’s waist as he hobbles out of the doors. They really need to get his ankle checked out.
When they enter the apartment, they’re greeted with an entirely unimpressed Natasha Romanov, pursing her lips at them as she folds her arms.
“You said you wouldn’t be back until at least eleven. You can leave her with me, you know.”
“We know,” Bucky assures her, and inclines his head in Matt’s direction. “We just had to get home a little sooner.”
“Yeah I can see that. Hey, kid.” Natasha directs at Matt, and he’s blushing a little in embarrassment.
“Hi.”
“I’m Natasha.”
Matt nods, and starts to say I know but quickly corrects himself. “Nice to meet you.”
Natasha grins at him, and then gives him the once over before turning to Steve.
“Nina’s in bed, you and me should go get Bruce to check out this kid.” With that, she and Steve leave, but not before Steve kisses Bucky’s cheek, and Matt allows himself a small smile at that. It’s cute. Also, it confirms every suspicion he’s had. He and Bucky are left alone in the apartment, and Bucky heads to the kitchen, having taken off his coat to leave it on the coat rack and left Matt’s things in a neat pile by an arm chair. Matt couldn’t help but notice the children’s toy basket, stuffed to the brim.
“Can I get you something to eat?” Bucky calls back and Matt just shakes his head, shrugging off his coat and draping it across his suitcase.
“Coffee?” He asks, and Bucky frowns, not looking at him.
“It’s a bit late for that,” he mumbles, and then catches himself. He turns to Matt, looking more than a little apologetic. “Sorry, not your parent- if you want coffee I’ll get you some. You want?” Matt can’t think of the last time an adult tried to enforce a rule for his general well-being, other than anything else, so he concedes.
“Fine, no coffee,” he agrees, and then remembers the box of toys in the living room. “Do you have any cocoa?” Bucky smiles at him, and it’s a proper smile that reaches his eyes, and then turns to busy himself opening various cupboards and the fridge, grabbing milk, mugs and cocoa powder.
“Won’t be as good as Steve’s, but I can make a decent cup of cocoa.”
Matt hoists himself onto the bar stool nearest Bucky, one bare foot swollen and purple. Bucky does not comment on it- Steve has gone to get Bruce. He’ll be back in a bit.
When Bucky has poured out two mugs of cocoa, one for him and one for Matt, he hears the tell-tale roll of Nina’s chair wheels. He does not turn to look to the entrance of the kitchen, but he does see Matt’s eyebrows rise as the gentle whoosh signifying Nina’s presence stops- she must think she’s being sneaky, hiding by the entrance.
“Nina Barnes-Rogers what are you doing up at this hour?” He calls, only turning once he’s finished his question. She’s pursed her lips, like she’s trying to come up with a decent lie to tell her Papa. He hides his smirk behind his mug.
“I heard you talking?” She says, and it’s probably the truth so Bucky lets her be. She often climbed into bed with him and Steve after they went out in the evenings.
“You gonna loiter in the hall way or come in and say hi?”
She wheels over to him, and then into him because she occasionally has trouble controlling her momentum still, and makes grabby hands at him so he’ll lift her up. He puts his mug down on the counter and lifts her up so she’s held tightly against his chest. She lifts her face to his, so she can brush their noses together.
“Hi Papa,” she says softly, and Bucky kisses he nose.
“Hey there, malyshka,” he says softly, and Matt is looking curiously between them. Nina cranes her head round to look at their guest.
“Who’s this?” She whispers, though it’s not really a whisper because she’s five and hasn’t quite got the hang of it yet.
“This, Nina, is Wematin,” Bucky makes sure to pronounce his name properly.
“My name is Nina Barnes-Rogers,” Nina introduces herself with a wave, and Matt waves back. He’s looking between Nina and Bucky, with an expression Bucky can’t quite place.
“Wematin Jones, Matt for short,” he tells Nina, equally formally, and the little girl grins before she frowns at him. He shifts uncomfortably as Nina studies his face and arms, and then she reaches for him. Bucky hadn’t realised how close they were standing, because Nina quite easily puts her tiny hands up to Matt’s face. She hesitates for a moment before touching him, but he nods and she carefully runs her hands over his bruises. To his credit, he does not flinch.
“Did bad people hurt you too?” She asks quietly, and Matt looks like he’s about to cry.
“Something like that, yeah,” he mumbles and swallows thickly. When Nina pulls away and Matt hangs his head and gulps down some more of his cocoa, Bucky notices how jagged his hair cut is, like his was when he first had to cut his hair by himself because he didn’t want anyone to come near him with sharp implements. Nina nods solemnly.
“My dads are good at saving kids from bad people,” Nina says proudly, and Matt gulps.
“Alright Nina I think it’s time for bed, sweetheart,” Bucky interrupts, and she adamantly shakes her head.
“No! I wanna talk to Matty!”
“He’ll still be here in the morning-” Bucky says, and Matt looks at him like he’s mental.
“I will be?”
“You will be. Come on Nina, off to the land of nod we go.” She tries to protest, but she’s yawning through it as Bucky shifts her weight so she’s in one hand and he can wheel her chair back with them in the other. Matt watches them go, and Bucky’s only gone for a few minutes before he’s back, and sits in the chair closest to Matt.
“Thank you for this, really Mr Barnes-”
“Bucky.”
“Bucky. Thank you but you can just hand me back to the authorities-”
“Nonsense,” Bucky says, and Matt clams his mouth shut at Bucky’s tone. “You’re staying here for the night, and if you’d like to leave in the morning you are perfectly welcome and we’ll drop you to wherever you feel is a safe place for you, but tonight you stay here.”
“I,” Matt’s voice falters a little under Bucky’s gaze. “I don’t really have anywhere to go- so you’d have to drop me back at the foster home.” Bucky pursed his lips, and took a moment to think about what he was going to say next. He didn’t get a chance, because at that moment Steve arrived with Bruce, who has a rather large brief case at his side- the one he keeps his medical supplies in.
“Bruce, this is Matt. Matt, Dr Bruce Banner.” Matt bites his lip to refrain himself from saying I know.
“Nice to meet you, Matt,” Bruce says in the tone so gentle you’d never guess he could turn into a monster. Matt just nods. “So I hear Bucky had to pop your shoulder back into place, mind if I take a look at it?” Matt shrugs and Bruce heads over his way. Steve gestures for him and Bucky to leave and Bruce helps Matt out of his shirt, so he can get a proper look at his shoulder. His torso, unsurprisingly, is also a little bruised- though these bruises are already turning yellow, so they must be older, and his shoulder is swollen and practically blue. Bucky and Steve quietly slip away to the study at the end of the hall- when they open the door, they are very not surprised to see that their desk has been pushed to the side, and a bed, side table and wardrobe have been moved in. There’s a little note that says I hope this is okay- P. That woman had powers unlike anyone else. She was also a little insane when it came to interior decorating, and jumping the gun.
“The kid said the only place he’d be able to go back to is the foster home,” Bucky tells Steve, who’s lips curl like he’s sucking on a lemon. Bucky nods. “My thoughts exactly. Can’t take him back to the place that put him with her.”
“So what’s the plan?” Steve asks, and Bucky bites his lip. There was no way he was sending Matt back to a place where the sort of abuse he’d endured as a kid could happen to him.
“Can we-”
“We could adopt him?” Steve says at the same time Bucky starts to speak. He looks as nervous as Bucky feels.
“We’d have to ask him. Obviously. He’s, what, sixteen? God we don’t even know how old he is- look we’d have to ask him first but if he wants then, yeah, yeah he can stay with us right?”
“We’ll have to talk to Nina,” Steve says as he nods, and Bucky grins.
“She seemed pretty keen about talking to him when she woke up-”
“She woke up?”
“Don’t worry she’s fast asleep now- but yeah, she whinged the whole time I was putting her back down.”
“We’ll talk to them.”
“There’ll be court proceedings, won’t be as easy as it was with Nina-” Bucky says, rubbing a hand over his face.
“We’ll think more about it in the morning,” Steve says, taking Bucky’s hand in his, kissing his engagement ring. “Let’s go check on him, yeah?”
When they get back, Bruce has put Matt’s right arm in a sling, and is wrapping his foot in bandages. He’s left a salve on the counter for the bruises, and his notebook is open, filled with his doctor’s scrawl. Bucky took a cursory look at his notes about Matt, with today’s date at the top.
Wematin Jones
16 years old (December 15th)
Mohegan
Foster ‘parent’ hit him and pushed him down the stairs
Dislocated shoulder- relocated without incident, no major blood vessels ruptured, nothing torn- still put in a sling to aid rehab
Sprained ankle- just swollen- bandaged
Bruised cheek, jaw and torso- no fractures or breaks
“He’ll be alright as long as he doesn’t fall down any more stairs,” Bruce says to them, without even looking up from what he’s doing. Steve looks like he’s about to scold him, but Matt is rolling his eyes and looks to be in slightly better spirits, so he lets it go.
“Thanks, Bruce,” Bucky says, and Matt quickly says thanks Dr Banner. Bruce flaps his hand at both of them and shrugs.
“Just doing my job.” When he’s done, he puts a bottle of painkillers in front of Matt. “In case you need them.” Matt just nods, and Bruce bids them all goodnight before he leaves. It’s suddenly very quiet, almost oppressively so.
“It’s getting late,” Steve remarks, and Matt shrugs with his left shoulder. “We’ll show you to your room, and we can talk about everything in the morning, okay?”
Bucky gives the boy a look, and any protest he had died on his lips.
“Okay.”
Matt lets Steve lead him to the study-turned bedroom, and Bucky grabs his things from where they were by the armchair. He noticed Matt had left his shoes by the front door, neatly placed next to theirs. Bucky takes his stuff and leaves it by the wardrobe, unzipping the suitcase of Matt’s clothes for him. It’s difficult doing things with only one arm.
“There’s a spare tooth brush in the bathroom cupboard under the sink,” Steve tells him. “It’s the door down the hall- not the one opposite Nina’s room, that’s our bedroom, and don’t hesitate to come wake us up if you need us- it’s the one just before that.” Steve is rambling, and Matt just lets him as he sits on the bed, trying to stifle a yawn. Bucky puts a kind hand on Steve’s shoulder, who becomes aware of all his talking, and quickly shuts up.
“Night kid,” Bucky says, pulling Steve away who echoes his sentiment, adding we’ll see you in the morning. They flick the switch, and shut the door behind them, most of the way.
It’s only when they’re safely back in their room do they dare to talk. They take turns in the en suite bathroom, listening out for either of the kids, and Bucky makes quick work of shucking his shirt and trousers to the floor, and then unhooking his prosthetic from his shoulders, leaving it in its stand. Steve’s already in bed as Bucky is hauling his pyjama top on over his head.
“You think he’ll agree to stay?” Steve asks as Bucky lies down next to him.
“I hope he does, Stevie,” he says, curling into Steve as he hugs him, one armed. Steve sighs into the embrace as Bucky rubs his back. “But we can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want.”
“Why’d’ya think she kicked him out?” Steve is careful to talk very quietly.
“Who knows- they were paying her, and she wasn’t keen on letting him go-”
“She’s not getting him back, if we have any say in it.” Steve sounds more defiant than ever.
“No. No she won’t. Not if we can help it.”