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Sometimes, the bonds we form act more like bones than anything else. They’re crucial to the structure of our being and without them, interwoven under our skin to keep us upright, we would simply collapse. These bonds, forged in fire and steel, colored gunmetal gray and crimson, bloody red, were sometimes the only things to remind us that we are, in fact, still alive.
These bonds, soul deep, bone bonds, they were the ‘forever’ kind. They could bend, they could break, shatter, and splinter off – but in the end, they would always reset.
Steve hadn’t known about Natasha’s time in the Red Room, nor Bucky’s part in all of that. Not until he returned from Vormir, soaking wet but victorious, sans one infinity stone and plus one beloved soul.
Bucky had taken one look at Natasha, soaking wet, bloodied and bruised but so very clearly alive, and he’d lunged forward, scooping her off of the ground like she weighed nothing at all, and it was then that Steve Rogers realized he had missed something.
Suddenly, Bucky’s reaction to the news of Natasha’s death made so much more sense. As far as Steve had known, they’d only met a handful of times, but Bucky’s expression had shattered and shuttered so completely that it was more like he’d lost a part of himself.
Foreheads pressed together, whispering in rapid fire Russian with wet cheeks and watery smiles, Bucky and Natasha clearly had some history that Steve was completely unaware of.
And while he knew it was. Irrational. Unfair, even. A knot tied itself in his chest. He understood, finally, how Bucky must have felt back in the 40’s, watching him stare after Peggy like some love struck puppy dog.
Jealous. He was jealous.
It made him clench his jaw so tightly he could feel it tick. He spared a look to Bruce, who was paying no mind to anything going on around him, completely focused on the science in front of him.
Christ forgive him, he needed to. Something.
Not watch, for one.
“Hey, man,” Sam’s hand clapped down on his shoulder, “how the hell did you pull that off?”
One rough, forced exhale through his nose later and Steve was able to relax his shoulders and turn to Sam like nothing at all was wrong in the world, “Oh, you know,” he said, “I just punched Red Skull in the face a couple of times and he was suddenly very open to negotiation.”
Which wasn’t entirely true – Red Skull was simply the guardian, he was not the one in charge of the stone. He was a grunt. Technically, Steve had punched him in the face twice: once for Bucky, and the other for himself. Then he had a very. Enlightening and weird conversation with a very large turtle that he decided to never mention to anyone, ever, because they’d just think he’d traded all of his Marbles to get Nat back.
Sam, for his part, just snorted indelicately as Bucky and Natasha finally untangled themselves from the other and made the harrowing six yard journey to join the rest of them.
Natasha was still openly crying, her eyes puffy and red and her hand clenched around Bucky’s so tightly that her knuckles were turning white, “Fucking stupid, Rogers, you could have gotten yourself killed.”
Which she’d already told him about twelve times while she stared at her own hands in disbelief, but he figured it bared repeating. Honestly, he should just get a pillow embroidered with the saying with the amount he had to hear it.
“I wasn’t going to leave you there,” Steve said simply, and that at least was the whole truth and nothing but the truth, jealousy be damned, "Who would keep me in my place with poorly timed 'ok boomer' jokes?"
“Thank you,” this one came from Bucky, who had composed himself slightly more than Natasha had, but still looked pretty rough, “Steve. I can’t… Just, thank you.”
Shit, was he supposed to say ‘you’re welcome’ when he didn’t even know what the hell was going on?
He settled on saying nothing – Bucky had taught him that when he was a punk ass, smart mouth kid in Brooklyn. If you say nothing, you can’t incriminate yourself – just reaching out and pulling the both of them into a hug.
Whatever was going on between Bucky and Nat couldn’t change the part of him that was exhausted, and relived, and so fucking happy. They’d won, and with impossible odds and several planet sized hiccups, everyone Steve loved was alive and more-or-less in one piece.
The jealousy could wait.
"I still can't believe you guys pulled the ultimate Hail Mary and I wasn't even there to see it," Natasha said with sniffle that made Steve's lips twitch.
Fuck jealousy. He was just happy to have. This.
"It was pretty awesome," Sam confessed, "Boy Wonder here just picked up Thor's hammer and went to town."
"Don't forget the part where Peter got almost literally adopted by Carol," Steve added, "if May wasn't so... May. I'm pretty sure the paperwork would be being processed as we stand here, covered in gross inter-dimensional water, shooting the shit like tourists at the Statue Of Liberty."
Bucky laughed, turning his face into Nat's hair to hide it. The knot in Steve's chest made itself known again.
They were going to have to have a very serious talk; but they had time for that on the trip to Wakanda. Tony was going to pull Nat into his hospital bed with him and not let her go until the world tried to end itself.
Again.
Christ, he needed a vacation.