Chapter Text
Like all of the floors in Stark Tower, the ‘pool floor’, as Clint had deemed it, had been spared no expense. There were several water slides, two different diving boards, a separate hot tub, a ‘kiddie’ pool, a smaller saltwater pool, and a chlorine pool that was three times the size of the pools that Bucky was used to seeing. All surrounded by coral-colored tile, cushy lawn chairs, soft towels, a fully stocked bar, and – to top it off – a skylight, which meant that they were swimming underneath the sun.
All housed under the roof of a man who couldn’t stand to be underwater.
Tony was reclining back on one of the lawn chairs, tablet propped up on his knees. His head was bent and he hadn’t looked up in several minutes; whatever he was researching had to be interesting, because the screams of Wanda and Natasha were pretty hard to ignore. Bucky had to sit on his hands to keep himself from walking over there and stealing the tablet, running his hands through his baby’s hair and smoothing away the stress lines on his face.
He'd thought about it before, and he was almost positive that Tony would be okay with going in the pool if Bucky was there with him. It had taken about a month of baths in less than a foot of water before Tony trusted him enough to raise the water level. Now they were up to Tony’s chest, just below the arc reactor, and Tony could still play without too much concern. If Bucky were to sit Tony on his hip, and they got into the water together…
“Okay, stop it Barnes,” Bucky muttered, earning a curious glance from Bruce. Bucky smiled back weakly. There was no point in longing for that, at least not right now, because there was no way Tony was going to let his secret slip out.
The world had no idea that Tony Stark was a Little. Somehow, even with all of the reconnaissance SHIELD had done and the fact that they all lived in the same tower, the team didn’t know either. Tony had done a masterful job of concealing what he considered to be his dirtiest secret right up until Wanda, Bucky, Sam and Vision moved in. Tony was used to hiding from Steve; one very late night not two weeks after Bucky first arrived, Tony’d forgotten that there was another supersoldier in the house.
It was shocking information at the time, yet when Bucky stopped and thought about it later he couldn’t believe he hadn’t put two and two together before. Tony was a natural Little when he let himself be. He just kept himself so tightly wound up that no one saw it. Until Bucky walked into the kitchen at 4am and found Tony sitting on the floor, sobbing, a spilled bottle beside him and a burn on his hand.
‘Rocky’ didn’t begin to describe their start. As far as the rest of the team knew, Bucky and Tony spent very little time together. Steve would have said, very confidently, that they didn’t even like each other. Steve would’ve been wrong. It was Bucky’s insistence that Tony not be left alone to struggle anymore that had gotten them this far; Tony hadn’t, and still didn’t, understand his perseverance. But Tony also wanted someone, anyone, so badly that he hadn’t argued nearly as much as he could’ve.
So here they were, eight months later, and things were still awkward but they were getting better, Bucky thought. They tried to average one night a week. Steve thought Bucky spent those nights at a book club. A book club. Steve was an idiot. Bucky spent those nights playing, bathing, feeding and cuddling a beautiful baby boy who, mentally, was probably no older than twelve months, no matter how much Tony argued that he could be big if he wanted to.
It was heaven. Everything Bucky had ever wanted, wrapping up in a short (“I am not short! I am compact!”), cute, brown-eyed bundle. They clicked together beautifully. Bucky got to motherhen to his heart’s content, as Tony put it, and Tony got the caregiver he desperately needed (and frankly, Bucky still had no idea how Tony had struggled along on his own for as long as he had), except for one thing.
The team still didn’t know, and after Ultron Tony really didn’t want them to know. He’d all but begged Bucky to keep his secret, convinced that this would be the last straw to getting him pulled from the team altogether, and what could Bucky do but agree? He’d seen the way the team treated Tony now. He didn’t even think anyone was even aware of it. But that extra layer of suspicion was definitely there, and Tony had noticeably pulled back from being so friendly with the team. And since no one except for Bucky went out of their way, or even noticed, to cross that bridge…
Needless to say the whole situation was a mess, but Bucky was determined to fix it somehow.
“Hey Buckaroo, if you frown any harder your face will get stuck that way.”
Bucky looked up, startled. He’d been so deep in thought he hadn’t noticed that Tony had moved was now standing beside him. “That’s just my thinking face, so I doubt anyone would notice.”
Tony smiled. “They are kind of oblivious,” he said, though his tone was fond. “Not swimming? Your arm is waterproof. Won’t rust, either.”
“I know it is. I trust you,” Bucky said, and meant it. He could feel Steve watching them carefully, no doubt torn between pride that Bucky was conversing with someone without being prompted and concern that something would happen. But not concern for Tony, oh no. Concern for Bucky. Jesus, sometimes his skin just prickled with the urge to beat Steve over the head until Steve understood that Tony would never hurt him. Even before Bucky became his unofficial caregiver, Tony wouldn’t have even dreamed of it.
And if Steve would open his goddamned eyes for five seconds and look beyond what was right in front of him, he would’ve known that. For someone who took so much pride in being a caregiver for Wanda, Steve really was a fucking idiot sometimes. Here was a Little who had been needing someone since before Steve had even known Wanda existed, but Steve had never even tried to get close enough to Tony to find that out. No one had. It was maddening.
This time, Tony’s smile was less certain, more shy. “I thought I’d get drink. Interested?”
Getting a drink would mean walking past the pool. Bucky’s heart ached. Tony must’ve been having a truly terrible day. He wanted so badly to pull Tony into his arms at that moment, but he forced the urge back and settled for nodding. “Sure, I could go for something tropical.”
“I’ll make you whatever you want,” Tony promised as Bucky stood up.
“Natasha, no running on the tiles!” Clint called. “Hey! That goes for you too, Lila!”
Lila and Natasha giggled together, exchanging looks of pure mischief. Laura, who was sitting on one of the lawn chairs with Nate at her breast, freed a hand to cover her mouth before she could laugh out loud and run their fun. Even Tony was smiling as the two girls snuck up on Clint and pushed him into the pool. Clint yelped and pinwheeled his arms madly as he fell forward, landing with a huge splash.
“Girls,” Laura said, trying to keep a straight face. “That wasn’t very nice.”
“Sorry Mom,” Lila said. “But Dad was being mean!”
“It’s not mean to keep you safe,” Laura said.
Clint surfaced with another dramatic splash. “I’ll get you for that,” he growled, making his hands into claws.
“I’m not afraid!” Natasha said. “I kicked your butt at training last week!”
“That was then. This is now.” Clint lunged towards the pool ladder.
Both girls screamed with glee and turned to run. Bucky dodged Lila, but didn’t think to grab Tony. Didn’t think about the fact that the tile was wet with water and slippery, and that Tony was wearing those stupid Hawaiian-print shoes with the shitty soles, and that Lila was pretty strong when she wanted to be. He only registered what had happened when he heard the splash from right beside him, and – as though in slow motion – turned to see just one shoe where Tony had been.
“Lila!” Laura yelled. Bucky heard her from a distance. His ears were filled with the sound of his pounding heart as the seconds ticked by and Tony didn’t surface.
“Son of a bitch,” he hissed under his breath. No one else was moving. Clint and Steve were both in the pool but they were just standing there with expectant looks on their dumb faces. Bucky didn’t hesitate: he threw himself into the pool, barely pausing to suck in a breath before he went under to grab for Tony.
Finally, Steve seemed to realize something was wrong and swam over to help. Bucky swatted him away, surfacing and hauling Tony up with him. Tony was stiff with shock, eyes locked on something Bucky couldn’t see. Bruce was right there at the edge, getting a hold of Tony’s shoulders and helping to lever him out. He laid Tony down as Bucky scrambled out, already knowing the problem: Tony wasn’t breathing.
Natasha and Wanda were both crying at that point. Bucky didn’t care about them. He got his hands into position over Tony’s chest, but Bruce slapped them away. “Don’t! You’ll do more damage than help with the arc reactor.”
“But… But Tony –” Bucky was weak with shock, his head spinning. He wanted to scream at Bruce to do something but at the same time he could barely move.
Bruce ignored him, leaning down press his mouth to Tony’s mouth. He breathed a couple of times, then did it twice more. He performed a couple of chest compressions around the reactor, but very careful, delicately. Nothing happened for the longest time, and it felt like the world was opening up under Bucky’s feet – he was vaguely aware of shivering, but nothing else mattered –
And then Tony jerked upright with a gasp, immediately rolling over and vomiting on the floor. He was gasping and flailing, trying to push Bruce’s hands away. His eyes were wide, pupils the size of a pin, and he wasn’t seeing any of them, Bucky knew. He was seeing the men who’d waterboarded him in Afghanistan. Bucky stepped forward and grabbed Bruce’s arm to stop him.
“He needs medical attention!” Bruce hissed as Tony scuttled away from them; he must’ve recognized the tower on some level because he hurtled himself into the elevator, which closed immediately.
“I know. I’ll do it,” Bucky said.
“No offence, but he doesn’t know you -”
“I said I’ll do it,” Bucky growled, voice dropping into a dangerous register. His eyes must’ve looked like ice from how Bruce flinched, albeit subtly. He stepped around Bruce and stalked over to the stairs, not waiting for the elevator. No doubt they would come up with some kind of explanation for why Bucky wanted to chase after Tony. It wouldn’t occur to any of them that maybe Bucky just cared a frightening amount about Tony Stark.
He took the stairs three at a time, pounding down flight after flight until he hit the workshop. Because that was, undoubtedly, where Tony would go. “JARVIS, open the door!” he barked.
Maybe Tony hadn’t locked the workshop, maybe Bucky was the only one who could get in, maybe JARVIS recognized that Tony needed help – one way or another, the doors opened. Bucky shot inside and looked around frantically. He didn’t breathe until he caught sight of Tony, who’d wedged himself underneath his computer desk. The sound of crying told Bucky who he was dealing with, and he relaxed a little.
This, he knew how to do.
“Tony, baby,” he said, jogging over to the desk. “Come ‘ere, darlin’.”
Tony launched himself into Bucky’s arms with a wail, shaking from head to toe. Bucky gave him the tightest hug he thought Tony could withstand, trembling a little himself. It was just starting to sink in that he’d nearly watched Tony drown today. If Bucky had waited even ten more seconds to react, then maybe Bruce’s attempts at resuscitation wouldn’t have been successful.
“I know. I know, it’s okay, that was scary,” he choked out, rubbing a hand up and down Tony’s back. “JARVIS, crank the heat. And please monitor Tony’s lungs. Let me know if he needs medical attention, and pass along anything serious to Bruce as well.”
“Yes, Sergeant Barnes,” JARVIS said quietly. At the sound of his voice, Tony whimpered. “Would like me to continue speaking?”
“Please,” Bucky said, picking Tony up off the floor. Tony’s feet were probably cold anyway. He walked over to the couch and sat, not caring that they were both soaked. Dummy beeped and came over with a blanket, with Bucky took with quiet thanks. He wrapped the blanket around Tony and rocked the hysterical baby back and forth, while JARVIS’s soft, soothing voice spoke of the weather.