Chapter Text
“I don’t think I want to do this anymore,” Diane whispered, her blue eyes focusing on the sight of her boyfriend, their newborn daughter tucked in his arms. His brows furrowed in confusion at her remark as he gently surrendered their daughter to the confines of the plush mattress of the hospital-provided cradle.
“What do you mean?” he questioned, making his way to the side of her bed, a still-loving expression on his face.
“I just can’t do this anymore. Look, I thought I was ready for all this, but I’m not. Seeing you with the baby just makes it feel and honestly?” she sighed, burying her face in her palm before pulling her chin up for her eyes to meet Bucky’s, “I don’t think this kind of life was made for me.”
“Please, tell me you’re joking. We can talk about this later—we’ll talk about this when the medication wears off,” Bucky pleaded, his voice desperate. He was jumping to any other conclusion he could to explain his girlfriend’s words. Really, anything other than the fact that he was walking away from the life they talked about living together.
“No, James. This isn’t the medication talking. Look, James, this isn’t the kind of life I want to live. I don’t want to be stuck at home looking after a baby. I want to go to work, and go shopping, and go on vacations with my friends. I don’t want this,” she sighed, her voice weary.
“You don’t have to dedicate all your time to the baby. You’re free to go wherever you want to because we’re in this together, Di. I’m with you until the end of the line,” the brunet tried his best to muster up reassuring words for his girlfriend, gently resting his warm palm against her exposed shoulder. They shared a moment of uncomfortable silence—Bucky awaiting Diane’s response and her contemplating what to say next—before the silence was broken.
“What if I really don’t want to do this…not with you, at least,” her softly-spoken words cut through him like a sharp knife embedding itself deep in his heart. He couldn’t believe that after all, they’d been through, there she was, proclaiming that she no longer wanted to be there for him and their daughter.
“So, what’s this supposed to be?” he croaked out, his baby blues pooling with tears he refused to let slip down his pale cheek. He gulped, the seconds awaiting Diane’s response dragging themselves to minutes.
“This is supposed to be goodbye, James,” she uttered out those words. Pain filled his body as though the broken pieces of his heart buried themselves in his organs, killing him from the inside. He wanted to tell himself it was all a nightmare he would soon wake up from. Still, everything about this nightmare was real. He was well aware of that.
“Goodbye? That’s it? No second chances or anything? Do you not even want to talk about this?” he questioned, desperation clear and heavy in his voice.
“We are talking about this, James. We’ve been together for three years, I had a baby with you, and I thought it was what I wanted, but it’s not, James.”
“Did you ever feel like you didn’t have a choice?” he questioned, his voice cracking with every word he got out.
“No. Don’t say that. Please, don’t say that. Please, James, don’t blame yourself for this, it’s all on me, trust me,” she pleaded.
“What could I have done to avoid this, Diane? Tell me, please. You can’t just leave me alone with our daughter,” he huffed, dropping onto the hospital chair and sinking into the foam of the chair.
“I don’t want to mess this up, James! Trust me, our daughter’s better off without me In her life,” the blonde promised him.
“Our daughter needs her mother,” the brunet insisted, “If it’s me you don’t want to be with, we can do something about it. Please, I don’t want our daughter to grow up without you.”
“You have more than enough friends who can act as Dottie’s maternal figure. If you’re so concerned over having someone pose as a mom for Dottie, you can go to Nat or y/n for help. Hell, go to Peggy for help if you want to,” Diane reminded him, grasping at straws to sway Bucky’s mind. He only shook his head at her statement.
“None of them are options. Peggy’s in England, Nat’s busy with work—Bucky started, only for Diane to cut off his statement.
“Okay, what about y/n. She’s your roommate, you guys already live together, I don’t think there’ll be any problems with her schedules too either,” Diane insisted and Bucky could only shake his head, chuckling.
“She doesn’t like kids,” he mumbled as a small smile made its way to Diane’s face.
“So, we named our kid after someone who hates kids?” she questioned, the tension between them slowly melting away, leaving them in a room filled with their raw emotions. Sure, they were close to giving each other their final farewells, but at that moment, they’d formed an unspoken agreement. An agreement in which they’d live in a quiet and peaceful bubble in the hospital; relishing in their final moments together.
Then came the following day; it was time for them to part ways and Bucky was left alone to think of every question ringing through his head. One of the most important ones being; would it be safe to give a newborn baby formula? What would he give his daughter? How was he supposed to bring his daughter home?
He couldn’t just walk out the hospital and strap a newborn in a car seat, could he? He had serious doubts about how safe it could be, so he pulled his phone from his pocket to ring Sam knowing he would’ve been more than happy to help with the situation he found himself in that day.
Luckily for him, Sam’s home was near the hospital. It didn’t take him long to meet with Bucky in the waiting room of the hospital.
“Where’s Diane, is she okay?” he questioned as he took in the sight in front of him, a disheveled Bucky, duffel bag hooked on his shoulder as he held a sleeping baby coddled in a fluffy pink blanket in his arms.
“I’ll tell you about it later. I just wasn’t sure if I could drive home with Dottie in a car seat. Can you drive us back to the apartment?” he couched out before mumbling out a quick, “I mean, you really don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll drive you both back to the apartment. It’s really the least I can do,” Sam insisted, holding his hands out and taking the duffel bag from Bucky and slinging it over his own shoulder. Bucky handed Sam the car keys before they made their way out the hospital waiting room and into the parking space where he left his car.
Once upon a time, Bucky Barnes didn’t drive cars; he drove his beloved Harley Davidson motorcycle. He knew that no matter what kind of safety measures he installed, a motorcycle would not be a safe means of transport for his daughter. He didn’t regret the switch. He’d do anything to make sure his daughter was safe.
“Thanks,” Bucky let out a small smile and Sam offered him back a smile, pulling open the door in the backseat, allowing Bucky to enter before he got into the driver’s seat.
“Are you okay back there?” Sam questioned, watching as Bucky settled for carefully laying Dottie onto his lap.
“I’m fine,” the blue-eyed architect responded with a curt nod before Sam began to drive to Bucky and y/n’s shared apartment.
“Do you want to tell me about what happened to Diane?” Sam questioned, peering over at his friend from his rear-view mirror.
“She decided she didn’t want to live like this,” Bucky began as Sam’s brown eyes widened at the statement.
“Right after having a baby? She just decided she didn’t want Dottie?” Sam raised a brow, urging Bucky to continue telling his story.
“Well, yes and no. She decided she didn’t want me and she didn’t want Dottie,” Bucky gulped as Sam was the first person he told this.
“Let me get this straight; she abandoned both you and your child? Look, I understand her not wanting to have to take care of a baby, but I don’t think it’s fair for her to just leave. You guys could’ve at least worked something out,” Sam sighed as his body flooded with pity for his friend.
“Right. I guess I’ll just have to let y/n know I’m staying with her for a while longer,” Bucky mumbled.
“Oh yeah, you were planning on moving in with Diane a week or so after Dottie was born weren’t you? Doesn’t that mean all the other baby stuff’s still in her place?” Sam questioned.
“Again, I told you, I’m still trying to figure this all out,” Bucky chuckled softly.
“I mean, I don’t know, I don’t think y/n would appreciate you filling up her kitchen with all the baby stuff,” Sam quipped, pulling a small smile from Bucky.
“She can start calling it her kitchen when she starts living off anything other than instant ramen. It was fine while we were all in college, but we’re adults now. She has a job; I’m sure she can afford to start living off microwaved dishes,” Bucky chuckled at the thought of y/n possibly scolding him for replacing her decorative fruits with baby bottles.
“I thought y/n didn’t like kids, though,” Sam scratched the back of his neck as he faintly remembered all the times y/n talked about the reasons she didn’t want to ever have children nor have to take care of one.
“Trust me, she doesn’t. Here’s the thing, though; y/n’s never had a kid named after her. That might change a few things,” Bucky shrugged as Sam narrowed his eyes at Bucky through the mirror.
“You named your kid after y/n? Really? You couldn’t have snuck in a Sam or Samantha in that name?” he questioned jokingly as Bucky shrugged.
“I mean, I had to fight quite a bit with Diane to get y/n’s name as Dottie’s middle name,” Bucky shrugged.
“Why exactly did you decide on that?” Sam questioned as Bucky let out a small shrug.
“She’s been there through everything. Hell, she was the one who told me to introduce myself to Diane,” Bucky smiled, “I guess I wanted to honor that somehow.”
“I think you and I remember the way you met Diane really differently. y/n dragged you to Diane and said ‘This is Bucky, he’s so single it’s scary. Can you maybe change that?’ and it somehow worked,” Sam chuckled as Bucky shook his head, laughing at the memory.
“I guess that’s what happened, isn’t it?” the brunet smiled, his gaze moving over to the face of his sleeping daughter, “I wouldn’t trade that moment for anything if it’s what got me Dottie.”
“Look at you all sentimental,” Sam chuckled, “I really do wish you the best with all this Dottie and Diane stuff. I know you, though, you’re going to get through this. Just don’t be scared of calling me for help.”
“I’ll remember that,” Bucky smiled softly, “I’m just worried about all the research I’m going to have to do with all this. I mean, I don’t know what I’m allowed to feed Dottie.”
“I mean baby formula should be fine. You might have to bring Dottie in for a checkup before deciding on that,” Sam mumbled, “Wait, what do you have to feed her?”
“Diane left me with a few bottles of breast milk; a parting gift, I guess,” Bucky chuckled bitterly, pulling out one of the bottles from the hospital bag.
“At least you don’t have to worry about feeding her for now,” Sam did the best he could to muster a smile to reassure Bucky. Like his friend, Sam had been clueless as to what he was supposed to tell Bucky.
“I guess so,” Bucky shrugged before letting out a soft chuckle, “y/n’s going to have a field day with this story.”
“Please, you and I both know she knows when she isn’t supposed to be making jokes,” Sam shrugged, “Besides, that woman cares about you more than she lets on.”
The rest of the ride continued in a comfortable silence—nothing but the soft snores of Dottie could be heard. Sam didn’t bother turning on the radio either, he didn’t want to risk waking the baby. They made their way into a parking spot and Sam pulled the duffel bag from Bucky as they made their way up the elevator into the floor where Bucky lived with his roommate and close friend, y/n.
Sam, being the one who held onto the keychain of the few keys Bucky owned, pushed the key into the door and pulled it open. Still, the door didn’t swing open, the small chain of the interior lock shining through the small crack in the door. Sam’s hand reached onto the spot beside the door and rung the doorbell.
“On my way!” y/n’s voice, slightly muffled, responded as footsteps approached the door. The door was pushed closed, the chain clanking ever so faintly, before the door was pulled open completely, “Oh hey, guys.”
“I thought you wouldn’t be home,” Bucky raised a brow at y/n, who held her laptop in one arm.
“Today felt more like a work from home type of day,” y/n shrugged as her eyes scanned over the people in front of her, “What happened to Diane? Birth complications? Did she need to get a C-Section? I swear to god, this is why I’ll never have ki—”
“Actually, I’ll explain it all to you later. Right now, I kind of just want to settle down a bit,” Bucky chuckled nervously as y/n’s brows furrowed, taking in Bucky’s tired expression—his eyes were bloodshot and looked as though he were crying, his under eyes were dark, and his skin was pale and nearly lifeless—nodding slowly and coughing out a quick, “Of course.”
“That’s a baby, right? Not a giant burrito you have wrapped around a blanket for whatever reason?” she questioned, watching as Bucky settled onto the couch, Dottie swaddled up on his lap.
“Do you want to hold her?” he questioned, holding the sleeping baby out to his friend. Her eyes widened, lips pressing into a fine line before she shook her head.
“Nope,” she gave a wide smile, popping the ‘p’ and settling for staring at the baby in his arms, “I was right about something, though.”
“And that was?” Sam questioned, raising a brow in anticipation of their friend’s possibly very dull response.
“Newborns look like mole rats,” she grinned as Sam and Bucky chortled at her response. Sure, she was talking about his child, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t expecting y/n to make a remark like that.
“She’s kind of right,” Sam chuckled as Bucky rolled his eyes, “So, are you going to tell her?”
“Tell me what?” she questioned, feeling the sudden change of air in the room. She knew they were going to delve into a deeper conversation—perhaps one that would explain Diane’s absence.
“Right, well, here it goes,” Bucky sighed, “After we got Dottie, Diane decided none of it was for her; motherhood, being with me, having to take care of Dottie. She just didn’t want any of it.”
“She can’t do that. I mean, she had months to think about the pregnancy, months to think about it before she got pregnant because I know damn sure this was something you guys talked about, and she had like two or three years to reconsider dating you. I’m so sorry you had to go through that, do you need anything? A hug? Alcohol?”
“No, I’m fine,” Bucky smiled up at her before reconsidering, “Actually, can you be the one who picks up all Dottie’s stuff at Diane’s place? I’d move them here myself, but I still have to contact the office about my vacation days and well, I have to take care of Dottie too.”
“You really expect me to be civil with Diane after you told me this? Plus, it’s not like I can go over to her apartment and be pissed while talking to a new mom—that would make me sound like a dick!” y/n exclaimed, as Sam shushed her, motioning towards Dottie’s sleeping form, “Right. No more cussing.”
“I mean, I can probably do it,” Sam volunteers again as y/n shook her head, not in favor of the idea.
“Sam, I’m sure I can probably do it. It’s the least I can do since Bucky’s the one who’s going to be stuck with the screaming burrito,” y/n chuckled as the brunet rolled his eyes in response.
“Please, stop referring to my kid as a screaming burrito,” Bucky chuckled as y/n shrugged, “Thanks for picking up the stuff, though. When are you planning on going?”
“Well, going a day or two after the birth would be bad since she just gave birth but the baby does need stuff—because they’re so high-maintenance, it’s hilarious—so, three days should be enough time, right?” she questioned, turning to face Sam who nodded at her, “Great, so I have to move some baby stuff, that’s fun. I mean, it shouldn’t be too hard, her apartment’s on the first floor of her building, right?”
“Yeah. I’ll even let you take my car if you need to,” Bucky suggested, earning a nod from the e/c-eyed girl, “Do you need me to do anything in return? Aren’t you busy?”
“Trust me, I’m fine,” y/n smiled before a thought popped in her head, “As long as I don’t have to carry, feed, or entertain any babies—or change any diapers. That's a major no.”
“Consider it a done deal,” Bucky nodded as y/n wordlessly slinked into her office to “get some stuff done for work” as she’d claim. Then again, despite knowing her for years, he didn’t exactly know what she did for a living.