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“DAD!”
Bucky jolts awake, his heart racing and ready to burst out of his chest. He’s quick to reach to a hidden slot on his nightstand for his gun, finding the hole empty-panic is starting to set in.
Right. He’s done away with these things – no more hidden guns and knives around his room, these days they have a new home, safe within the confines of a locked box in his closet. 9 years in and he still can’t shake -
“UNF!” He feels the slight bounce of the mattress and tiny arms wrapping around his neck before he hears the squealing of his youngest daughter.
“Daddddddy!” Riley screeches right into his ear, “Guess whaaaat!” She continues to pull her arms tighter around his neck while she jumps up and down against his back, he gives in and sways with her movements. Bucky can’t fathom what could have his 7-year-old so damn excited at 6 a.m. on a Wednesday morning.
She’s still squealing behind him as he tries to wipe the sleep from his eyes with his right hand, his vibranium arm holding his tired body steady as Riley continues to assault him with her excitement. Bucky let’s out one last breath before he sits up properly and pulls his daughter around and places her on his lap.
“All right muffin, tell me what all this bunny hopping on my bed is about? What’s got you so wound up?” He asks, voice still scratchy from sleep.
“You gotta see Pops, come on!” Riley jumps off of Bucky’s lap and grabs his hand, trying to pull him up and leads him out of the bedroom. “But wait Pops. Close your eyes, okay?”
Bucky grumbles at the thought of Riley leading him around the house with his eyes shut, he thanks the Gods that they have a rancher and stairs won’t be a problem. Riley gives one big yank to Bucky’s arm, his knee hitting the corner of the coffee table before he stumbles to the couch by the front window.
“Look, Pops, look.“
Bucky is still rubbing the sore spot on his knee when he opens his eyes, blinded by how bright the front room is. Riley is vigorously waving her hands towards the bay window.
“It’s snowed, Pops. S-N-O-W.“ Riley expresses her excitement by jumping on the cushions, Bucky decides to bite his tongue, his little girl has the largest smile on her face and the laughter is contagious. He feels his heart swell at her excitement.
“Would you look at that, snow. I don’t think we’ve had this much snow since you were a teeny tot. Do you remember it at all, kiddo?” He looks over, Riley’s profile his only view of her face and she is clearly mesmerized. He watches each blink and slight movement of her lips as she takes in the cotton ball sized flakes that land softly on the fir tree in the front yard. He figures she is lost in thought and tickles her sides, surprising her and she squirms closer to him and rests her head against his chest.
“Pops, can we go and play in the snow? Please?” Blue eyes look up to him, lower lip in a slight pout, ya, he knows this look, he created that look. The Barnes Blues; you bat those eye lashes and you shall get whatever ye wants. He smirks and tussles her hair.
“Well…” He teases
“Aw, come on! You know you want to, too,” she says and tries to pull Bucky from the couch towards the front door. She’s left pulling his arm and pushing her bottom lip out further.
Bucky chuckles and pries her little fingers from his arm. “How about you go and get Pip and we’ll have a race who can get across the yard first in the snow.”
Riley’s eyes widen at the idea and her little legs push off and bounce down the hallway to her older sisters’ bedroom. He can hear Riley laughing and Piper is screaming at her to get off and to get her butt out of her room, or else. Bucky chuckles and remembers the days of jumping on Becca when he wanted to drag her outside during the snowy winters. They would play until their hands were frozen and the sky started to go dark.
Piper shuffles down the hallway, mumbling to herself about putting a lock on her door, but the frown on her face quickly adjusts to cheer when she notices the white flakes swirling down in the front yard.
“A winter wonderland! Dad, do you see it? Look at all that snow,” Piper says as she runs to the couch wide-eyed. Bucky is enjoying this – the excitement that both of his girls have this morning. Their eyes are bright and the laughter flows out makes his heart feel warm; he feels so much love for them.
“I told Riley we could have a race across the yard, what do you think, you up for the challenge?” He winks at her but she frowns in response and he hears a quiet “You’ll just cheat… Winter Soldier and all,” from Piper.
He brushes the comment aside for now – not entirely sure how much his daughter understands about that comment-that will be for another day. Today is for snow angels and snow balls, not for serious conversations about his past.
After they have raced and then raced some more (Piper argued that she didn’t hear Bucky shout ‘go’) Bucky sits on his couch, sipping coffee and watching rosy cheeked Piper trying to make a snow woman. Riley slams the front door, Bucky watches as she runs full force and tackles Piper into the snow. He watches his little firecrackers swing at her older sister but Piper says something to make her laugh. A happy sigh leaves his lips; he adores the smiles on their faces.
Bucky remembers the snow in New York, before all of this, before the Avengers, before the war. Bright eyes would stare up the clouds, tongue out to catch the snowflakes that swirled around his head. His mom had taught him to catch them, an early memory but never forgotten. After his hands were frozen and bright red after hours of snowballs fights, his mother would have him shed his outer layer of clothing and have him sit on a cloth over the kitchen chair. She’d smile, give his cheek a little pinch, and place a mug in front of him. Hot chocolate, topped with a mountain of marshmallows.
“Now, don’t go slurping up all those marshmallows, sip and enjoy your drink,” his mother said, squeezing his shoulder.
He would wait until she would turn her back and then he would smirk at Becca and the two would slurp the top layer off as quickly as possible. They would laugh at each other when they realized they both had marshmallow mustaches. He misses those days but he knows that he is creating the same type of memories with his daughters decades later.
*
Wiping his hands on his pants, powdered sugared hand prints ghosted across his thighs, he steps out of the kitchen and walks to the front door, cracking it open and lets out a whistle that both girls turn their heads to.
“Come on in now, I made up your favourite treat.” He watches as Piper pushes Riley over and runs towards him, trying to be the first into the house. She makes it up the steps first but Riley is right behind her and pushes her aside. Bucky shakes his head as the girls push each other around until the both fall into the house. “Make sure you leave all your wet stuff here and then meet me in the kitchen.”
On the table he has set out mugs of hot chocolate and in the centre of the table are homemade marshmallows, something he started making when the girls were toddlers.
Riley slides into her seat first, eye wide when she sees the heaping pile of marshmallows. “Oh, hell yes! The first batch of the year! Way to go Pops!” She reaches over and grabs a handful with her left hand and then a few others with her right pushing those white fluffy squares into her pink mouth. Bucky watches as his daughter’s eye roll back, a clear sign that she is enjoying the homemade treat. Piper sits down and glares at her little sister, a look of annoyance on her face (this is her favourite look this month). Riley says something but Bucky can’t make out what it is with all the marshmallows jammed into her mouth.
“Did you just say snow-made?” Piper asks, a look of disgust on her face.
Bucky watches his daughters from across the table and shoots Piper a quick glare “don’t you dare say anything mean to your sister” he tries to convey this with his blue eyes. He thinks she picks it up, taking another sip from her steaming mug.
“Mmmffff,” Riley groans, shoving a fourth marshmallow into her mouth, icing sugar dusting her lips as if it were the snow falling from outside. “I sure did. That means they are better than homemade - snow-made is top of the line.”
Bucky watches Piper rolling her eyes-how did she get to be 9 so quickly? Where did the years go? He thinks of the grey in his hair and the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes, some mornings his bones creak; he’s starting to feel his age. (well, the age he looks, not the one on his birth certificate)
“Pops, I gotta say,” Piper pauses to chew “no one makes marshmallows like you do, not even the PAC moms at school.”
Bucky can’t help but laugh at that. The Winter Soldier, better at making marshmallows than a PAC mom, what an accomplishment!
“I’m going to agree with Piper, dad, you have talent. Best snow-made marshmallows in town,” Riley beams at him and pops the last fluffy square into her mouth. “Is that how you convinced mom to marry you?” Riley questions while chewing.
“Oh my gosh Piper, what the-”
“That’s a tale for another day, Riley. How about you two finish up your hot cocoa and we can head back outside. What about making a snow fort?”