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“Oh, they'll be fine.”
Famous last words, Steve thought wryly. It wasn't that he didn't love his best friend. He did, but he wasn't one hundred percent sure that leaving Bucky with their four year old son for a few days while they went off on what Fury called a 'necessary leave of absence' was a very good idea. Not at all. They got along just fine, but Bucky was... unstable sometimes, okay? And James was kind of a handful, considering he was an amalgamation of Steve's stubbornness and Natasha's cunning. The only way he could see this ending was in disaster.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Natasha rolled her eyes and stuffed the last of their clothing into the suitcase on the bed, zipping it up and hauling it onto the floor so Steve could carry it down to the car. “It's an excellent idea,” she said easily. “James loves Bucky, and if not him, who? Would you rather I asked Tony and Bruce to watch him? Or Thor? Maybe Clint.”
Steve briefly looked off to the side as he imagined James with Bruce and Tony, meaning wandering around the lab with barely any supervision at all, then with Thor.. probably summoning lightening and going for trips off the balcony, then with Clint and most likely learning how to kill things or play pranks... He sighed. “Okay, so he's the best option,” he admitted. “But we'll be gone for like three days. What happens if he has.. y'know, an episode?”
“He's been getting a lot better with those,” she argued. “Besides, he was so excited when I told him we wanted him to babysit.” Steve immediately felt bad for questioning all this, but he wouldn't have if he didn't have doubts. He was about to argue back, but James came running into the room with Bucky right behind him.
“Daddy!” he squealed, grabbing onto Steve's legs and raising his arms to be picked up. “Daddy, Daddy! The monster's gonna get me!” The soldier glanced to Bucky, who had his hands curled into 'claws' and roared as he entered the room, pretending to pose a threat to James and coming off as looking like a total dork to his best friend.
“Your daddy can't protect you!” he warned, trying not to smile as he circled Steve and James, who was now in his father's arms.
Steve frowned and reached out to nudge Bucky, sending him just slightly off balance. The other man laughed and pretended to be scared, backing away and shielding his face. “Oh, no! Don't hurt me, Captain America!”
James wiggled as Steve shook his head and watched Bucky take off towards the living room. “Lemme down!” he demanded. “I'll get him for you, Daddy!” Letting his son down, Steve watched with an amused look as the little boy waddled off towards the living room- and a moment later, they heard shrieks and cries of defeat as James presumably 'took down' the Winter Soldier.
In the end, Natasha got her way as she usually did. Of course, not all things went as smoothly as the decision to actually leave James with his namesake. About a year and a half after they’d gotten married in a small ceremony in front of their friends, Steve had been the one who brought up the idea of a child. The discussion had led to two weeks of uncomfortable silence before he confronted Natasha about it, insisting that a kid wasn’t something he desperately needed, if she didn’t want one. But it turned out that not wanting one wasn’t the problem.
Though they’d always used protection, Natasha finally confided in him that she couldn’t have children thanks to the experiments that had been performed on her in the Red Room. Although it took her a while to say it, she confessed that she was scared he might leave her because of it—although that fear was communicated in the way she held his gaze in the most intimidating way she could while she told him that ‘not all men want a woman with a defective uterus’.
Well, that just wasn’t acceptable. Steve would never leave her because of that and he told her so, wrapping her up in his arms so they could just be together for the night. The next day, when they discussed it further and decided that they were both hesitantly interested in the prospect of a child, adoption was the first thing that came to their minds. The thing was that an adoption agency would look at their lives and probably laugh them out of the building because from their perspective, they were unstable and bringing a kid into a life filled with danger. Steve knew they would be able to keep their child safe, but would a stranger be so sure? Unlikely.
The second option that came to mind was surrogacy. It was… a very expensive option- almost more expensive than the adoption- but with Tony’s generous help and a bit of their own savings, they managed it. Several of Natasha’s eggs, fertilized with Steve’s sperm, were implanted in a woman named Alyssa and the waiting began. She announced that the procedure had worked two weeks later and all of a sudden; they had a baby on the way. Both Natasha and Steve were excited, but there was a part of Natasha that was a little jealous because she didn’t get to carry him. Still and all, they decorated the nursery together and prepared themselves the best way they could.
Steve was more in contact with Alyssa than Natasha was, asking her if there was anything she needed. Most of the time, she said no. There were a few days where he took her to the doctor and brought home a sonogram for Natasha, who carried it around with her like it was the most precious thing in the world—even though she would have denied doing such a thing if Steve had called her out on it. Nine months later, Alyssa called them saying she was in labor and fourteen grueling hours after that, a baby boy was pressed gently into Natasha’s arms. With dirty blonde hair and Steve’s blue eyes, he was the most beautiful thing either of them had ever seen and for the soldier, seeing the way Natasha lit up with him in her arms was nothing short of spectacular.
Fast forward four years and several things had become clear. First of all, the serum didn’t fix everything. James had a minor heart defect that had to be monitored, and he was likely to be on medication for most of his life, if not always. He was also more intelligent than his peers, if only because some kind of advanced cognitive processes had him learning at a very fast pace. Luckily, no super-human strength had come to light, and his maturity was pretty much age appropriate. Second of all, mixing their DNA had led to a kid who was what some people might call ‘difficult’. Steve insisted he was just enthusiastic about everything, but there was no doubt that he was a handful. Hyperactive? Maybe.
The whole team was pretty excited to have a kid around. Tony and Bruce praised him for his intelligence, Thor was surprisingly good with children (At least, it was surprising until Steve found out he was associated with fertility.), Clint was more than happy to tell James, even as an infant, all kinds of embarrassing stories about his parents… Honestly, it had taken Bucky a little time to trust himself with James, who looked impossibly tiny in Thor’s arms, and Steve’s arms—so it was kind of shocking to see him cradled by a metal arm that was just as big.
Eventually, though, Bucky got to be more comfortable and there wasn’t anything that could keep the guy away from James. Fortunately, James took to his Uncle Bucky like duck to water. Often times, Steve would come back from a jog to find Bucky unconscious on the sofa with James pillowed on his chest, a metal hand at the kid’s back like it was keeping him safe and Natasha reading a book just a few feet away.
With so many aunts and uncles thrown into the mix, James was becoming a very well rounded kind of kid. He loved being in the lab with Uncle Bruce and Uncle Tony, he adored watching his daddy and Uncle Thor spar in the gym, he accompanied Mommy and Aunt Pepper to kickboxing classes, and he played video games with Clint—or he watched and yelled at the screen because he had to follow his uncle’s example.
But Bucky was his favorite and everyone knew it.
Which was why there was plenty of evidence to support that this was a good idea no matter what Steve said. Steve agreed to the terms and marched out to the living room, sitting his son and his best friend on the couch for a firm discussion. “James, what are the house rules?”
The little boy sighed and sat up straight, reciting them clearly. “No leaving the apartment without an adult. No sneaking up on Uncle Bruce. No going into the lab without Uncle Bruce or Uncle Tony. Always clean up all my toys before bed.”
Steve nodded. “Good. Now, I’m going to add to that. You’re going to listen to everything Uncle Bucky tells you to do, okay? I don’t want to come back and hear that you were misbehaving just because me and Mommy weren’t here to make sure you did.”
Bucky sat up and smiled, ruffling James’ hair. “We’re gonna have fun, Steve. Don’t even worry about it. James loves listening to me. Don’t you, kid?” James made a face and batted his hand away, but grinned widely and nodded anyway.
“Uncle Bucky said we could make pizza for dinner,” he said excitedly, turning to look at Bucky with a very expectant look. “I want pineapple on mine.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he agreed. “You’ll get your pineapple, weirdo.”
Steve suggested that James go say goodbye to his mother and turned his gaze to Bucky. “As for you,” he continued, sliding onto the couch beside him. “You know you can call us if there’s any trouble, right? Don’t forget to give him his meds every night at dinner, and he likes being read to at night… and… and…”
Bucky lightly nudged Steve’s shoulder to cut him off before he started going over the minutiae and driving them both crazy. “I got this,” he said warmly. “Really. I can do this. He’s gonna be fine.”
Heaving out a sigh, Steve nodded and patted his friend’s knee. “I know you do,” he answered like he always did, offering the other man a warm smile. Again, it wasn’t like he didn’t trust Bucky- he just wasn’t sure that Bucky and James together wouldn’t wreak havoc upon the unsuspecting group of adults they lived with.
Natasha headed back into the living room with James resting on her hip, his arms tight around her neck. “Someone’s having a little trouble saying goodbye,” she explained, bouncing a teary-eyed boy in her arms. Steve was up right away.
“Hey, what’s wrong? I thought we were excited about staying with Uncle Bucky.” James launched out of his mother’s arms and into Steve’s, hugging him around the neck and crying into his shoulder. “James? Buddy, we’re gonna be back in a few days.”
James sniffled into Steve’s shirt and the soldier patted his back, looking at Natasha with a somewhat panicked look that she answered with a firm nod. They had to do this. He would have to get used to being away from them sooner or later. “You promise?”
That little question, muffled by Steve’s shoulder, was enough to make Steve want to cancel the whole thing and stay home. “Of course,” he said quietly, moving to sit down and prying James off so he could balance him on his lap. “James, you know Mommy and I love you very much, right?” He nodded, wiping stubbornly at his eyes. “We’re always going to come back for you, okay?” Another nod, but James reached out to grab onto Steve’s shirt like that would make him stay.
“You’re gonna be brave, right?” Steve asked very quietly, like it was secret between them. “And you’ve gotta take care of Uncle Bucky for me.” James nodded and moved to hug Steve again, earning two arms wrapped bodily around him because yeah, Steve was having trouble letting go too.
“Alright, клецка. It’s time for us to go. Give Daddy a kiss, and come give me another kiss.” James did what Natasha said, kissing Steve on the cheek and bolting over to his mother to hug and kiss her as well. Once he was deposited into Bucky’s arms, Steve grabbed their bags and they left at last, heading off to Malibu for a weekend, courtesy of Tony. They just needed some time for themselves.
James still looked upset, so Bucky decided that making lunch was just the thing to take his mind off of his parents leaving. “How about we go make that pizza?” he suggested. To his relief, James snapped to attention and narrowed his eyes at Bucky. “With pineapple.”
Bucky laughed and carried James into the kitchen with him. “With pineapple.”
An hour later, the kitchen was a bloody disaster area. Covered with cheese, flour and sauce, Bucky and James sat down to enjoy the monstrous pizza they’d created- half covered with pineapple and a little bit of the ham Bucky had persuaded James to try, and half covered with pepperoni and extra cheese for Bucky. The dough was cooked through, thankfully, and once they’d let it cool, it took them all of ten seconds to dig in. Bucky even remembered to give James the medicine Steve had been so worried about. Of course, James wound up with pizza sauce smeared all over his mouth, his hands, his chin, and his shirt…
“You need a bath, buddy.”
James looked up defiantly. “No.”
“What do you mean ‘no’? Daddy said to do everything I say.”
“No!”
Bucky was not going to be that guy who let a kid boss him around. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” he explained calmly, giving James a challenging look. “Your choice, buddy.”
For a few minutes, they were locked in a silent battle- the spawn of the Black Widow and Captain America, and the Winter Soldier. And then, in the blink of an eye, James was up and dashing out of the kitchen at top speed, fully intent on hiding so he didn’t have to take his bath. Bucky was so surprised that he had to sit there for a moment before getting up and chasing after him. “Hey, get back here!”
By the time Bucky found James, the kid’s whole bed was covered in the remnants of their meal and the sauce had managed to make its way into James’ hair. “You’re a mess,” he accused, scooping the kid up with his metal arm and hoisting him, kicking and screaming, over his shoulder.
“No!” James roared, little fists thumping against Bucky’s back. “I don’t want to take a bath! No! No! No! Let me go!”
Did Steve and Natasha do this every time they wanted to bathe James? Bucky grunted as he was kicked in the head on their way into the bathroom, eventually locking the door behind them and setting James down so he could run the water. “You’re still taking a bath,” he said easily, adding bubbles to the tub so James might calm down and get in willingly. But no such luck. No, there was a battle to get him undressed and a very wet struggle to get him into the tub, but eventually he sat there and pouted while Bucky carefully washed the sauce out of his hair.
“What do you wanna do tonight, kiddo?” he asked, shielding James’ eyes as he rinsed the soap from his hair. “We could watch a movie. I’ll even let you pick which one.”
James was quiet for a few seconds like he was contemplating whether or not to actually allow Bucky to cheer him up. “I wanna watch Mulan,” he demanded somewhat petulantly. “That’s Mommy’s favorite.”
Of course it was. “Okay, kid. We can watch Mulan. I’ll even make popcorn.”
Soon enough, Bucky was draining the tub and wrapping James up in a towel so he was kept warm. “Hang on,” he warned, scooping the boy up and ‘flying’ him out of the bathroom and right into his bedroom. “Here we go. What pajamas are we wearing today?”
James padded over to his dresser and tugged out a pair of footie pajamas with little pictures of the Hulk all over them, wordlessly holding them up for Bucky. Uncle Bruce would be proud, and a little embarrassed. With a little help from Bucky, James was all dressed and ready for bed, his hair towel dried and combed. Once they headed into the living room, where JARVIS was helpfully starting the movie already, Bucky told James to sit on the couch while he got the popcorn.
The kitchen was still a disaster, but he shrugged it off. It would wait until later. “Alright,” he announced, returning with a big, green bowl of popcorn and settling down on the couch near James, the bowl resting on the cushion between them. “Here we go. Mulan.”
The movie began and James watched avidly, shoving mouthfuls of popcorn into his mouth at about the same rate as Bucky. They watched in silence for the most part, neither of them moving until Bucky retrieved apple juice for James and a bottle of water for himself. With the bowl, Bucky’s bottle, and James’ cup on the coffee table, a certain brunette began to kind of… drift off. He’d seen the movie before and it wasn’t that exciting and all of a sudden, he was on his back with his lips parted in quiet snores. Maybe it was just that taking care of James had taken it all out of him.
He woke up two hours later to a different movie playing and a weight on his chest. Rubbing at his eyes, he noted the now unconscious child nestled on top of him with a blanket tugged on top of them both, and licked his lips before telling JARVIS to shut the movie off. Shit. Not good, falling asleep when he was supposed to be watching a kid. Steve would not approve.
Moving slowly, he sat up and kept James tucked against his chest as he made his way to the kid’s bedroom. “Mh—Daddy?” Uh oh. No, no, no. Go back to sleep. Bucky carefully tucked James into bed and kissed his forehead, watching until he shifted to get comfortable and stayed there, not making another sound save for his soft breathing.
Leaving the door open a crack, Bucky made his way back out and crept into the kitchen with the empty remnants of their little movie night, already so ready to crawl into his own bed. When he turned on the lights, however, the full weight of their foray into pizza making hit him and he sighed heavily. Steve usually did the cooking. This sucked. Mumbling to himself about being way too fucking bold when they could have just ordered pizza, he cleaned up from top to bottom- all the counters, the floor, the table, the chairs, and the dishes. By the time he was through, he only had enough energy to drag himself into his own bedroom and fall face down onto his bed, where he intended to pass out.
But he didn’t get the chance just yet because his phone, his damn phone, was buzzing excitedly from where he’d set it down on his bedside table. Grabbing for it, he hit the ‘accept’ button and lifted it to his ear without looking. “Yeah?”
There was a pause, and then… “Buck? You okay?”
Fuck. “Yeah,” he answered, picking himself up so he sounded a little less beat. “Yeah, I’m fine. I guess you got there safely, huh? How’s Malibu?”
“Sunny. How’s James? How did it go tonight?”
Ah, he had known it was coming. “Fine. Y’know. We had pizza, we watched a movie—“ We made a total and complete mess of the kitchen. “He misses you guys, but we’re okay.”
“Tell him we miss him too, okay? We can do a Skype chat tomorrow if you can get him to sit still for that long.”
Bucky chuckled and nodded to himself. “Yeah, definitely. I’ll tell him. Now let me get to sleep. Go make sure Nat is enjoying herself, Captain.” He could practically hear Natasha’s head whip around, but Steve said he would and they hung up, thankfully leaving Bucky to fall asleep without any further interruptions.
That is, he had no further interruptions until a thirty-pound child was body slamming onto his back from quite an impressive height the next morning and grubby little hands tugging at his hair. “Uncle Bucky! Get up! It’s time for breakfast!”
Bucky groaned, tightening his arms around his pillow and pressing his face into it like that would give James the hint that it was time to shut up and let Uncle Bucky get a few more minutes of sleep. No such luck. The little boy climbed up the length of his torso and poked at his head and his ear and his cheek. “Uncle Bucky,” he huffed. “I’m hungry!”
So this was what it was like to be a father. Bucky groaned again, cursing the moment he’d agreed to this because he was not a fucking morning person. “Alright, alright,” he mumbled. “Get off and tell me what you want.”
James poked his head one last time and hopped off the bed, standing right nearby and bouncing on his toes instead. Just like his father, nothing like his mother at the moment. “Pancakes! And bacon! And I want my pancakes to be really, really big!”
Dragging himself groggily out of bed, the brunette nodded and padded unsteadily over to the bathroom while James hopped onto his bed and bounced on the edge. When he emerged, Bucky was pulling his hair back into a haphazard ponytail before he went about pulling a clean t-shirt from one of his drawers and tugging it over his head. “Pancakes,” he mumbled. “Let’s go, lil' man.”
Together, an energetic child and a still-dozing former assassin made their way into the now pristine kitchen. Bucky wanted to sob when he thought about what they might be doing to it in a moment or two. Sure enough, by the time they were through constructing two piles of fluffy pancakes and a dish of bacon to share, he knew he’d have to clean all the counters again, not to mention the dishes and the floor.
Luckily, James was relatively clean. With only a small dose of syrup, the kid went at his breakfast with all the gusto of… well, his father. Bucky watched in barely concealed amusement as James stuffed big pieces of pancake into his mouth and chewed happily, guzzling down three glasses of milk along with a handful or two of bacon. Some appetite he had, especially for such a little kid. With his plate totally cleared, all James wanted to do was go and play. Bucky decided that since it was a Saturday, he could go ahead and hang out in his pajamas for a little while—meaning that James ran into the living room to watch cartoons...
…and Bucky set about cleaning up the kitchen. To his relief, the day passed very quickly and they had a lot of fun together. Bucky donned long sleeves to take James to the park, where they negotiated the jungle gyms together-- much to the amusement of the mothers watching them. A few of them even talked to Bucky, though they sheepishly backed away upon sight of his metal hand. Lunch was hot dogs from a vendor, and dinner was a carefully cooked meal of chicken and potatoes (and medicine), followed by two big chocolate chip cookies for dessert. Natasha insisted that they not have the call on Skype until the next day so James would get used to them being away and Bucky didn't fight her on it, though he could practically feel Steve pouting behind her.
That night was spent watching another movie while James colored at the coffee table until he was rubbing his eyes and telling Bucky that he wanted to go to bed. Bucky read him a book and the kid passed out for the whole night, only to wake his uncle up in exactly the same way the next morning. More pancakes, and they decided to play some video games for a while.
Mid-morning, Bucky's phone rang and it was Natasha again, requesting a video chat. He paused the game and accepted, holding it up so he could smile at the two people now crowding close to the phone so they could both see him. “Hey, Buck!” Steve greeted, waving as Natasha fondly rolled her eyes. “Where's the little guy?”
On cue, James jumped up and reached for the phone. “Mommy? Daddy?! I wanna talk to them!”
Bucky handed the phone over and James took it in both hands, cradling it close while he looked at his parents and smiled, albeit a little sadly. “I miss you guys,” he pouted, and they answered that they missed him too, but that they'd be back tomorrow morning, probably before he even woke up. James like that, and he went about their phone call telling Nat and Steve all the fun things he and Bucky had done together. By the time they hung up, James clearly didn't want them to go and he was upset in his own way, but all was relatively calm even after that.
Until noon, that is, when James demanded spaghetti for lunch and Bucky was stupid enough to agree. He was beginning to think that all his intelligence was actually caught up in the skills it took to kill someone without leaving a trace because clearly, giving a four year old a fork and a full plate of sauce and macaroni was not a smart move. Again, there was sauce everywhere.
There was sauce everywhere because about halfway through their meal, James had decided to ask Bucky whether or not they could go to the park again and, when his uncle said no, threw a temper tantrum. Spaghetti hit the floor with a loud ‘splat’, spaghetti hit the wall with a similar sound that made Bucky’s head throb, and spaghetti hit the kitchen cabinets at about the same time that Bucky stood up and raised his voice. “Enough!” he demanded in a fit of desperation, slamming his metal hand on the table and shocking James into a submission Bucky would later regret.
The kid looked… terrified. Bucky stood there, looming over him, and watched as James’ big, blue eyes wobbled as they filled with frightened tears. Right away, the former assassin softened and shook his head, horrified with himself. “Hey, kid,” he tried, stepping closer to the boy- who inched away from him. “I didn’t mean it. You know I’d never hurt you.”
But tears were slipping down James’ cheeks as he tried in vain to keep his crying at bay. Bucky shook his head a little as the kid started to really cry, heaving great sobs and loud whines because apparently Bucky was a lot scarier than he realized sometimes. “James…” He stepped closer again, and the little boy was out of his seat in an instant, panicking as he tried to make his way out of the kitchen and keep an eye on his uncle at the same time. Their eyes met for a brief moment before James was scurrying out of the kitchen and into his bedroom, where he quietly shut the door.
And Bucky was left blinking back tears, slowly moving to sit back down because his legs wouldn’t hold him up any longer. James was so like his father, and the disappointed, frightened look in his eyes was reminiscent of when they’d first let Bucky move in with them, when he’d snap every other day and put a knife to Steve’s throat or a gun to his head. The whole thing left him feeling shaken and hollow, curving his back to slide both hands into his hair and cradle his head for a few moments. What if James couldn’t forgive him? What would Steve and Natasha say?
Deciding that the best option was to leave James alone for a while, he sat and stewed in a healthy dose of self-hatred before managing to pick himself up to clean the kitchen. It took a while, but he eventually stood in the middle of a clean kitchen—though he didn’t feel any better himself. James was still quiet in his room, not making a single sound loud enough for Bucky to hear. “J? Can you watch him for me? Make sure he’s okay.”
The A.I. responded in the affirmative and Bucky pushed a hand through his hair while he made his way out to the balcony for some fresh air and the view to the ground. Hours passed. The problem was that Bucky did actually have to feed the kid. Instead of asking James what he wanted, Bucky prepared a tray for him- grilled cheese with a side of fries and juice box. His medicine was neatly placed in a little, plastic cup off to the side. As an afterthought, he added two cookies and carried the tray to James’ room, knocking on the door.
“Hey, James? Dinner is ready for you.”
Nothing. “James?”
Still nothing. Bucky sighed. “Look, I won’t come in if you don’t want me to. Just let me know you’re okay.”
There was a pause and finally, he heard a little voice speak up. “I’m okay. I don’t wanna come out for dinner.”
Bucky was pretty sure he couldn’t possibly feel like more of a failure than he did at that very moment. “Okay, buddy,” he sighed. “I’m gonna leave it right outside your door. Make sure you get something in your stomach.”
James said that he would and Bucky left the tray on the floor, making his way back to the kitchen so he could clean up. His own appetite was frighteningly absent at the moment.
The evening passed very slowly. At some point, he heard James’ door open and close, the tray disappearing from where he’d placed it. Then, only a short time later, he heard the door open again and little feet padded down the hall to the kitchen. The tray landed on the table and James scurried off- first to the bathroom, then back to his room. Bucky let him have his privacy.
The thing about James was that Bucky knew he could get himself ready for bed. The kid was way too smart for his own good sometimes, so it wasn’t surprising that he padded back out of his room and brushed his teeth (Bucky could hear the water running and the swishing of a toothbrush) before making his way back into his bedroom and entirely ignoring the living room, where his unfortunate babysitter was sprawled on the couch watching reruns of Friends.
Bucky dozed off around midnight, waking up just an hour later and dragging himself off the couch so he could clean up the tray James had left in the kitchen and go to bed. Unfortunately, it was in bed that he dealt with some of his worst demons and that night, his subconscious wasn’t having it. He fell asleep quickly, but that wasn’t the issue. The issue was that he began tossing and turning as soon as he passed out, his brow furrowing in fear and confusion.
On bad nights like this one, Bucky kicked his blankets off and writhed in pain, but it was only during particularly bad dreams that he began to cry out. “No!” he roared, shaking his head from side to side. Images flashed in his mind- the rooms they kept him in, men coming at him, the buzz of electricity they shot through his body to get rid of everything he remembered, the overwhelming cold that would blanket his body each and every time they put him into storage like the weapon he had been—“No. No! Пожалуйста. Нет больше. Пожалуйста, пожалуйста!”
All of a sudden, the cuffs holding him down were replaced by small, questioning hands that tapped his cheeks and a little, worried voice. “Uncle Bucky? Wake up! It’s just a bad dream!”
He twisted away a little, letting out a few shaky breaths, but another few taps on his cheeks had his eyes flying open and widening as he bolted up and tried to move away from James, his back slamming hard into the wall on the other side of his bed. Tears ran down his cheeks as his heart leapt against his ribcage, his lips parted out of blind fear.
James tilted his head to the side. “Are you okay?” Childish curiosity, yes, but there was an underlying understanding that Bucky wanted to cling to. Instead, he just shook his head and pulled his knees up, unable to say anything for the moment. He was ashamed, though. He was ashamed of how frightened and pathetic he must have looked to James, when he was supposed to be a role model of sorts. Bucky was still shaking from head to toe by the time James crawled onto the bed and made his way over to his uncle, trying hard to stretch his small arms around Bucky in a tight hug.
“It's okay, Uncle Bucky,” he whispered. “Daddy says everybody has bad dreams. But they're not real and they can't get you when you wake up, and I saw Mommy hugging Daddy after he woke up like this.” Well, that was too sweet. Bucky swallowed and carefully wrapped just his human arm around James, ducking down to press his nose into the boy's shoulder.
Maybe it was weak of him to do this, to lean on a kid when he was definitely supposed to be an adult who could take care of himself, but he needed this to calm down. “I'm sorry,” he croaked. “About before. I didn't mean to scare you, kid.”
James nodded against his shoulder and Bucky only held him a little tighter, rubbing his back like he was the one doing the comforting. “It's okay,” the boy offered. “You're not scary, but your eyes get scary sometimes.” He could understand that. If he was angry or frustrated or scared, Bucky turned into a different person for a split second before he came to his senses. Kids were just more open to accepting that.
“I'll try not to be scary again, kid. I promise, I'll try.”
They stayed like that for a long while, shifting only to allow James to curl up in Bucky's lap, tucked against him like he had no plans to move. After some time, Bucky felt comfortable enough to lay back down, arranging a sleeping James beside him, one little fist gripping his uncle's t-shirt. That was how they stayed, both on their sides, and that was how Natasha and Steve found them the next morning.
Having already checked James' room, only to find him absent, they'd headed into Bucky's and smiled at the sight of their son and his uncle all curled up in mirror images of one another, both snoring soundly. Steve took a picture and Natasha shook her head at them, but ultimately they decided to let the boys sleep a little longer while they unpacked.
“Alright, I'll admit it,” Steve sighed, tossing their dirty laundry into a basket for later. “They did fine. The place isn't destroyed, they both look healthy and whole... I should have just shut up and listened to you.”
Natasha smiled from where she was setting a few packages on the coffee table-- souvenirs for the boys. “If you would shut up and listen to me on a regular basis, I think everything would go a lot more smoothly.”
Rolling his eyes fondly, Steve moved over to her and wrapped an arm around her waist, dragging her down to the couch like they hadn't already had two days of spending this kind of time together. --And that was how Bucky, carrying a sleepy James, had found them, Natasha laying on top of Steve while they necked like teenagers.
“Very classy,” he remarked. “And in front of the kid, too. Who's the responsible one here?”
James wriggled in Bucky's arms to be let down, running right over to Natasha's waiting arms and jumping into them once she'd disentangled herself from Steve. “Mommy, Mommy! I missed you!” She smiled and kissed his cheeks, happy to be back home and have him in her arms again. Steve ruffled the kid's hair, but stood up to check on Bucky instead.
“You okay?” he asked, noting dark circles around his friend's eyes.
Bucky waved him off. “I'm fine.” Steve smiled and went to return to his family, but Bucky stopped him for a second. “He's a good kid,” he offered. “Takes after his old man.” Pause, and Bucky absolutely was not thinking about how grateful he was to have them in his life, nor were his eyes kind of shining as he swallowed over a lump in his throat. “Thanks, man. For the chance and everything.”
Steve's grin broadened and he hauled Bucky in for a hug, patting his back happily. “You did great,” he said quietly. “Never doubted you for a second.”
Rolling his eyes, Bucky pulled back and gave him an unimpressed look. “Punk.”
“Jerk.” Steve winked and clapped him on the back again before leading him over to the couch so they could open the presents laying on the coffee table.