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He should be scared, at the edge of this building. He should be terrified. He should be stepping away and feeling sick to his stomach.
Instead, he feels calm.
Wind sweeps through his hair like his mom’s gentle fingers as a child, like his father tousling it playfully, like Becca using the top of his head to measure how tall she’d gotten, like Steve positioning each strand just right for his next sketch, like love, like family.
He misses them. He misses them so much it hurts, makes the edge of this building seem like the most comforting thing in the world. He just wants to see them again.
But the wind also feels like Sam messing it up and laughing when he scowls, like Sarah combing it back into place, like Cass and AJ pulling at it, like friends, like home.
Heights had never scared him, not until he fell from that train, and yet- here, at the edge, he feels…
“Please don’t.”
Bucky turns his head, a spark of surprise lighting in his chest when he sees the little punk from the battle at the airport standing about ten feet away from him.
He pulls off his costume mask, revealing a face that’s… god, he can’t be older than Steve was before the serum, and about as small as him too. Bucky’s heart lurches, suddenly realizing he attacked this- this-
“Mr., uh, Barnes?” The kid stutters nervously. “I know I’m not- that you don’t like me, but- please don’t, cause then I’d have to try and save you, and call an ambulance if I couldn’t, and I just- I’ve had a really bad day, and I don’t know if I could handle that.”
Bucky clears his throat, stepping away from the edge. “I- uh. I wasn’t going to.”
It’s a flat out lie, but the kid’s face falls with relief. “Oh, okay. Good. Awesome. Thank you.”
Bucky nods.
The kid shifts on his feet, nervous. “Look, do you- are you hungry? Food always makes me feel better, and I know a place with the best subs, and I don’t- I don’t really know what else to do.”
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen,” the kid replies, then winces, as if he knows he shouldn’t have said anything.
Bucky’s heart cracks. He’s just a kid. “Subs sound good.”
The kid grins, relieved. “Sick! It’s called Delmar’s, it’s, like, a five minute walk from here. They’ve got a cat. He’s awesome.”
“Hey,” Bucky stops him before he can leave. “What’s your name, kid?”
“Oh! I’m Peter,” Peter replies. “Peter Parker.”
“Peter Parker,” Bucky repeats, testing the name out. “I’m Bucky.”
“I know,” Peter says. “I had, like, a massive crush on you in middle school.”
Bucky bites his tongue to keep from laughing at the kid’s scarlet face. “Let’s go eat, kid.”