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It's nearly eight am when Clint Barton comes into the common room for breakfast. He's later than usual, having rather enjoyed his hot shower. Instead of being one of the first to arrive, he's one of the last. And he immediately regrets his decision to travel through the ventilation system as per usual.
Unlucky for him, Bucky is in the room and not three feet from the vent he drops down from. Before his feet even touch the ground, he hears a hiss and suddenly he's got a hand around his throat and a wall being pressed into his back.
There's a flurry of activity, then. Natasha springs up from the breakfast table, a gun that she seems to have grabbed from thin air in her hands, pointed at Bucky. Bruce jumps from the table, skittering backwards to avoid the conflict in hoping to keep the Hulk at bay. Tony lets his cup of coffee go and it clangs to the countertop, him throwing his hands up in a gesture of surrender, even though the gun barrel is not pointed at him.
Steve steps forward, between Bucky and Tasha with his hands up as well, but his back is to Natasha. It would normally be a stupid move, something he would never do in the field, but all he's worried about is his scared boyfriend.
"Bucky," he says, the assassin's fingers twitching for a knife that he no longer has strapped to various parts of his body. In the half second since Clint's dropped down, Bucky's eyes have already scoped the kitchen and found many items that could be used as weapons, but Steve's voice stops him from going after one of them.
The simple word from Steve jolts him out of his thoughts and he suddenly realizes that it's Hawkeye that he has pinned to the wall. He gasps and loosens the fingers around his throat but he doesn't remove his hand. Clint gasps for air, finally able to fill his lungs again as he holds both hands up as well, "Hey big guy. It's okay. It's just me, your sharpshooter friend that you like to play Mario Kart with." Clint chides in a friendly, yet slightly breathless voice. He seems not at all phased by the fact a metal hand is around his throat.
"Bucky, it's okay," Steve repeats quietly, having moved slightly closer. Bright blue eyes dart to find the source of the voice and Bucky's stance relaxes just slightly, though his chest heaves with heavy breaths.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were so close. I didn't mean to take you off guard," Clint says in that calm, soothing voice that he only seems to use with Bucky. The two had grasped an immediate friendship when Steve brought Bucky to the tower. Clint had explained to the Avengers that it's really just because as a former spy, he knows how easily it is to be spooked by people even when you trust them. There were numerous times in the beginning of his employment at Shield that he pulled his bow on Agent Coulson.
"Natasha, lower the gun," Sam says, having joined them at some point in the short time. He has his counselor voice out, "He won't hurt him. But you're not helping by having that thing pointed at him.
It's true, when she finally lowers it after a glare from Steve, Bucky's posture relaxes a bit more, having seen the barrel in his peripheral.
"Bucky, everything is okay. It's just us. We're your friends. You know us all. We're not going to hurt you," Sam says slowly.
"Don't come any closer," Bucky snarls viciously, his whole body tensing back into an attack-ready stance as he catches the movement of Sam stepping closer.
Clint is the only one who doesn't flinch at it, even having felt the metal pulse around his neck. He slowly moves one hand from it's position of surrender toward Bucky's arm. He stops it about a centimeter away, giving him every opportunity to deny the touch. Bucky doesn't protest so he rests his hand gently on the cool metal of the wrist around his neck, "I'm not going to hurt you, Bucky. I was just coming down for breakfast. I didn't see you or I would have announced myself first."
"Baby," Steve whispers, moving around to stand beside Clint, "No one is going to hurt you. Please let Clint go."
Bucky stares for a second at Steve, seeming to let his mind catch up to the events going on. It all seems to hit him and he jerks his arm back fast enought that Clint almost topples over forward, the soft whir of the metal seeming loud in the quiet room.
"May I touch you?" Steve asks, his hands still up.
Bucky gives a jerking nod, cradling his metal arm to his chest as if burned by what it'd done, "I'm sorry," he whispers breathlessly to Clint, face a mask of shame at having reacted the way he did. Steve reaches out, wrapping both arms around Bucky, pulling him to his chest.
"I'm sorry," Bucky repeats.
"Shh, it's okay, come on. Let's go up to our room," Steve whispers, feeling the silent sob leave Bucky's chest in shame. Clint gives his back a gentle pat as they pass, rubbing his neck where he's bound to have bruises.
-=-
"Captain Rogers," the british voice speaks, voice lowered to not startle the rooms inhabitants, "Agent Barton is requesting permission to enter. He asked that I announce his presence so his knocking does not startle Sergeant Barnes."
"Thank you Jarvis," Steve says, looking down at Bucky who gives a quiet nod at the question he doesn't voice, "Let him in, please."
"As you wish," The disembodied butler replies, the elevator doors dinging open outside of the bedroom in the living area and a few moments later, the door slowly opens.
"Hey guys. How we doing?" Clint asks, voice lowered as well, though still close to his normal volume.
"He's finally relaxed, now," Steve replies, fingers carding through the long brown hair.
"Is he asleep?" Clint asks, all seeing eyes flitting down to the dark haired man.
Bucky moves then, lifting his head and shaking it before twisting around so he's on his back with his head against Steve's stomach instead of on his belly, face buried in Steve's lap. Clint mentally cringes seeing the man's red rimmed eyes. He really had not meant to get Bucky so upset.
"Hey Buck. I'm really sorry about earlier," Clint apologizes, reaching out and resting a hand on his flesh and blood arm. Clint is the only one besides Steve who can touch Bucky without requiring express permission, and even then if he moves too fast it can be a problem, "I didn't even think about checking to see who all was in the room. I sometimes enjoy startling the others," he admits.
The corner of Bucky's lips quirk up, "I understand. Tony is quite fun to scare," he says, placing his metal hand on top of Clints on his other arm, "You have no need to apologize. I should not have reacted the way I did. That was unforgivable."
"No it's not. There was no lasting damage," Clint assures, "I'm not even bruising."
"It still should not have happened," Bucky replies.
"Babe-"
"No Steve, he's right. But it's not because of you, Buck," Clint insists, "I dropped down without bothering to check. I know how things are and I know too fast movements scare you sometimes - don't look at me like that. It's not anything wrong with you. Bucky, what you went through, it's amazing you're doing as well as you are now. Do not feel bad about it. I knew better and I didn't think of looking. That was extremely out of character for me. This is completely on me, okay?"
"I can't agree to that, Clint," Bucky admits, "I still react before I think too much."
"In our line of work, we all do. Dude, you've spent seventy years being forced into that. You weren't allowed to think. You just had to finish what they told you and not think. Like I said, you're doing far better now than anyone even imagined. Believe me, I pulled a knife or a gun or my bow on Phil and even Natasha so many times before I got used to the people around me. I still do it if there's a loud noise behind me. That's something all of us will always do." Clint says.
"You didn't hurt him, Bucky. You were in enough of your mind to not hurt him. You reacted quickly but instead of snapping his neck, you stopped to think," Steve tells him quietly. Clint sees what it's about hearing that from Steve. Bucky isn't as worried about having hurt him as he is the possibility of hurting one of them while not thinking. And this morning was too close to that possibility.
"Hey Buck, why don't we go spar? It'll get your mind off of this morning and get out some of your frustrations." Clint suggests.
"Steve, will you come?" he asks, as if he wants a spotter to make sure he doesn't react badly to anything. Steve nods without hesitation and Bucky slowly nods after, "Yeah, let's go."
-=-
After a few hours of sparring, Clint remembers how shitty it is to be mere human surrounded by superhumans. His body is completely beat and sore, he's exhausted and Bucky is no more than breathing hard. But the fact his body has relaxed exponentially makes it all worth it.