Work Text:
Monsters and myths and malevolent machines — those were the kinds of things that Steve and Bucky were used to by now, being part of the world’s league of heroes. It wouldn’t be a regular Tuesday afternoon without Doom bots in the city or weird alien slugs portaling in from different dimensions. That was something they were able to wrap their heads around. Children, on the other hand? They were an entirely separate story.
HYDRA had been a pain in their asses since the beginning of time, and today was no different. Well… one thing was different. Of all things Bucky had expected to be thrown at him, being ambushed by a literal child that dressed like his old self — yeah, that was not something he’d have added to the list. (He knew that fourteen-year-olds were little monsters all on their own, but when one of them came at him with a big-ass AK, it brought on a whole other meaning.)
The kid had been so blasé about killing the diner patrons who’d been there at the wrong place, wrong time. Every “Mr. Barnes” that came from his mouth sent Bucky’s blood boiling; he hated knowing HYDRA had gotten the kid so young, trained him well enough for close combat — trained him enough that they decided to sic him on Bucky. All it took was one swing of a vibranium sword to Bucky’s mechanical arm that sent his circuits going berserk, but he used it to his advantage when he got close enough to the little HYDRA assassin and shocked him unconscious.
Suffice to say, Steve was more than surprised to find Bucky pull into headquarters with the kid tied-up on the back of his motorcycle. He only watched with a wary curiosity as Bucky deposited the kid onto the stiff cot in one of their makeshift interrogation rooms. “Do I wanna know?” Steve voiced eventually, catching Bucky’s eye as he shut the door behind him.
Bucky sniffed and shook his head in response, glancing at his mangled arm before sighing loudly. Damn. And he’d just gotten it repaired, too. “That kid may not have crossed me off, but Tony’ll probably finish the job after he sees this.”
Steve rolled his eyes, taking a step closer to his boyfriend. He slotted his fingers between Bucky’s metal ones, the corners of his lips turning up when he felt a tight squeeze. “You’ll survive.”
They stood together for a long moment, a silent conversation being spoken with only furrowed brows and sympathetic eyes. Bucky opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by an incredulous “Oh my God, you’re Captain America!”
Steve bit back a smirk, dropping Bucky’s hand to cross his arms over his chest. He gave the teen a once-over, saying, “Yeah, not quite, kid.”
Bucky snorted a laugh, watching as the kid pushed himself into a sitting position with his elbows. “Welcome back to the land of the conscious. Don’t bother trying to get out of those, by the way. You’re strapped in tight.”
“Where did you take me?” the kid inquired, squirming a bit as he tried to break the ties behind his back.
“Somewhere safe.”
He scoffed. “You know I’m going to kill you the first chance I get, right?”
“I know you’ll try,” Bucky retorted, narrowing his eyes slightly. “What’s your name?”
The kid huffed, turning his head to the side and avoiding both men’s gazes. Bucky exchanged a look with Steve, who only cocked his head in question: Do you need me here?
“I got this,” Bucky muttered under his breath, nodding once. A small smile appeared on his lips when Steve cupped his cheek and let out a quiet, “I’ll be right outside.”
When the door closed with a soft snick, Bucky finally moved to grab one of the not-so-comfortable chairs from the corner. He turned it around, sat, and then made a point to look the kid in the eye. “Let’s try this again: What’s your name?”
“Are you and him together?”
Bucky blinked in surprise, caught off-guard. Well, that certainly wasn’t a question he thought he’d be getting today. “Have been, for a while.”
“Do you love him?” the kid asked.
“I do,” he replied honestly. Bucky narrowed his eyes once again, unsure on why the kid was asking him about Steve.
The kid seemed to ruminate on his answer, mouth twisting in thought. “Does he love you?”
Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line, giving the kid a look. “I think so. Now, as much as I’d love to play Twenty Questions with—”
“With all the blood on our hands, Mr. Barnes, can we really be worthy of love?” The kid looked up at him, pleading for an answer that Bucky wasn’t sure he had the right to give. “My handler… He told me once, ‘A worthwhile person does not waste potential. They live up to it. Only then do they have value. Only then are they worthy of love.’”
Bucky said, “What are you asking me, kid?”
“I just — I mean, if you can find love with America’s Golden Boy, of all people… I dunno. Maybe I’d gone to the wrong place for it.” The kid slumped forward a bit, his chin hitting his chest.
The kid was so young. So broken. So needy for the love and attention that Bucky knew HYDRA never gave. Looking past the uncanny costume, he really saw himself in the kid, a weapon manipulated by the real evils that lurked in the shadows. For a moment, Bucky even felt sorry for him. “HYDRA loves no one, and they care for no one. All they care about is how many people you can kill. And Stevie, here — hell, the other Avengers, too — they care.” Bucky looked down at his metal arm again, turning the wrist back and forth. “Yeah. They cared enough to give me a second chance.”
The kid met Bucky’s gaze, the expression on his face more open and honest than he’d been all night. “Do you think I can get a second chance, too?”
“Depends. You still going to try and kill me if I untie you?”
“I can make no promises,” the kid replied cheekily, lacking any real bite to his words. He swallowed audibly, taking a deep breath before straightening up. “RJ. I’m… RJ, Mr. Barnes.”
“Nice to meet you, RJ,” Bucky said, and he meant it. He got to his feet, reached over with a small knife, and let RJ loose, pocketing it soon after. “You can call me Bucky.”
