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When Steve left his apartment the sun was already high up in the sky. With the holidays fast approaching, the streets were busy with shoppers and tourists alike. The air was cold, and a heavy snowfall during the night had covered everything in white. Well, at least it must have been white at some point before the heavy New York traffic had turned most of the glistening white into an unappealing grey mush. It was for the most part a rather depressing sight - but that suited Steve just fine.
Six months had passed since SHIELD had gone up in flames. Six months of fruitless search that had yielded no result whatsoever. Bucky had vanished without a trace, just like a ghost, and part of Steve was beginning to wonder if he should just give up and accept the reality. His friend was gone, and whatever Hydra had turned him into, perhaps it was better if Steve kept his distance.
If he found Bucky, he would likely be forced to turn him in and there was no telling what would happen afterwards. There was no realistic scenario in which he and his best friend could just resume some kind of normality and pretend the past seventy years had not happened. He had read Bucky‘s file, over and over again, despite Nat‘s warning. What he had seen had turned his stomach. Was it even possible to come back from something like this?
Steve walked past a group of teenage girls who kept shooting him surreptitious glances, but apparently were too starstruck to approach.He was grateful for that - he usually tried to be as accommodating as possible with the fans he had acquired ever since it had become public knowledge that Captain America had resurfaced and the Avengers had saved New York, but there was something about this particular time of year that made him cranky. The fewer people he‘d have to deal with right now, the better.
Steve walked on for another ten minutes until he reached the small coffee shop, where he and Sam had agreed to meet up. Silently, he thanked the heavens that on this particular morning, nobody was eager for a selfie or wanted to stop and thank him for his service. A quick glance at his watch showed that he was late; Sam would likely already be waiting inside.
Sam was, indeed, waiting, but he smiled when he saw Steve. The smile, however, quickly morphed into a look of concern when Steve sat down opposite him with a sigh. "You okay?"
"Sure, why do you ask?"
"Cause it doesn‘t look like it. No offense, Steve, but your poker face is worth shit."
Steve actually had to smile at that, and slowly his mood began to lift somewhat. "It‘s just… well, you know."
Sam nodded seriously, his expression softening as he reached over and touched Steve‘s arm lightly. "I understand, but trust me, we‘ll find him. I‘m not giving up."
"Maybe we should,” Steve said dully, staring down at the table in front of him. “What if we find him and it turns out he can‘t be saved? Isn't that what you told me?"
"Not like you to give up so easily,” Sam pointed out, raising his eyebrows. “And I changed my mind. He pulled you out of the river, Steve. On some level, whoever he is now, he still cares about you."
"Then why hasn‘t he contacted me? Why is he hiding from me?"
Sam dropped his gaze and shrugged helplessly. Truth be told there were a number of reasons to explain Bucky‘s continued absence. They‘d been over all of them over and over again, but worrying about the what-ifs didn‘t help.
All they could do was keep trying.
Steve took another sip from his coffee. It had already turned cold and tasted kind of sour. "You got any plans for the holidays?" he asked, eager to change the subject.
"Going to drive back to Louisiana in two weeks,” Sam said, his face brightening with a genuine smile. “I‘m spending Christmas with my sister and her family. You?"
"I‘m not sure yet,” Steve admitted. “Tony threatened us all with a Christmas Extravaganza, but I‘m hoping I can get out of it somehow.”
"Maybe you should go. Nothing more depressing than spending Christmas alone, especially in the city. If you want to, I can ask Sarah if I can bring you along. I‘m sure she won‘t mind."
"No, that‘s okay Sam. I‘m going to stay put, just in case…"
"In case he shows up." To his credit Sam tried to stay positive. "It‘s the holidays. It might make him seek you out."
It was clear that Sam was saying it more for Steve‘s benefit rather than an actual conviction. And, true, spending Christmas moping in his apartment and waiting for a miracle to happen sounded anything but healthy.
Maybe he could pay Peggy a visit. Her health had deteriorated, and the lucid moments were far and wide between. But sometimes she still remembered him, and in those rare moments, his heart was filled with joy. Peggy was now the only tie back to the life he had left behind. The only one who remembered Bucky as he used to be.
"-won‘t stay alone."
"I‘m sorry?" Steve was jolted out of his reverie, realising belatedly that Sam had been talking to him.
"I said, just promise me that you won‘t be alone on Christmas. It won‘t do you any good - and to be honest, I‘m getting kind of worried, Steve."
Steve smiled as reassuring as he could. "No need. I‘ll be fine."
"So you promise you‘ll meet up with someone,” Sam urged. “Go to Tony‘s party. There are worse places to be."
"Yeah, sure, I promise." Sam seemed satisfied with the answer, but Steve wasn‘t entirely sure that it was a promise he intended to keep.
It had been another close call. Keeping an eye on Steve meant that he was always in danger of being seen, and this morning, he had only barely avoided running into him. Thankfully Steve had been too preoccupied with his own thoughts to pay attention to his surroundings. It was reckless given that he must have acquired quite a number of enemies over the last few years. Bucky was itching to set Steve down and talk to him about the merits of a healthy dose of paranoia, but of course that would kind of defeat the purpose of keeping his distance. Perhaps he could send an anonymous death threat, just to keep his friend on his toes.
Then again maybe that would be unkind. It was hard to tell these days what should be considered appropriate social behavior. Most of the skills he had acquired over the past decades were altogether unhelpful in that regard.
With a heavy sigh, he opened the door to his apartment, not bothering to turn on the lights. The place was empty except for a mattress in the adjacent bedroom, an old worn out leather couch, an old TV set and the small kitchenette. All of these had been here when he rented the place, and thankfully the landlord had accepted cash and without asking any questions.
Given that the place was a dump, with a leaky bedroom ceiling, a cockroach infestation in the kitchen and intermittent running hot water, it was probably not much of a surprise the guy kept himself scarce. It suited Bucky just fine, though. He wouldn‘t be staying here long term, he just had to figure out his next steps.
The longer he stayed in New York, the more likely it was that Steve or anyone else who was currently looking for him would find him. It was a risk he shouldn‘t be taking - in fact, he had been questioning his motives ever since deciding to stay rather than go with the more sensible plan of leaving the country as soon as humanly possible.
He had the resources, money as well as a pretty convincing fake passport courtesy of his former employer - and yet something had kept him here. That something was broad shouldered, blue-eyed and had the self-preservation skills of a lemming. A fact that Steve Rogers had proved by letting himself almost get beaten to death by his former best friend.
At first, he just wanted to make sure that Steve was recovering, and then he had needed to know that Steve wouldn‘t run headlong into danger again. It turned out that that was exactly what Steve loved to do, so days had turned into weeks, and before Bucky knew it, half a year had passed.
He couldn‘t keep this up. If he stayed in New York, there was no doubt that Steve would eventually find him. Only luck had saved him today, and next time luck might not be on his side.
Likewise, contacting Steve was out of the question. There was no way Steve could accept and forgive Bucky for everything he had done if he ever learned the true extent of his crimes, or the role he had played in Howard Stark‘s death. It was just his luck that each and every Winter Soldier assignment had been seared into his brain in vivid and graphic detail, whereas all memories pertaining to Bucky Barnes and his time before Hydra remained vague and elusive.
In fact, he probably remembered more about Steve than he did about himself. Perhaps that was another reason he didn‘t want to leave behind the only living link to his past life. Either way, it was time to move on. With that decision made, it was time to gather a few supplies and plan his escape from New York.
Steve had been ignoring Tony‘s texts over the last couple of weeks, so it should probably have come as no surprise that Tony took that silence as an invitation to invade his inner sanctum. The moment there was an insistent knock on his door, Steve knew he was in trouble.
"Tony? What brings you here?" he asked, trying to play it cool.
"Nice to see you too, Capsicle,” came Tony's dry response. “Just figured I‘d check if you got yourself killed."
"No need to worry - I‘m fine, Tony."
"I can see that,” Tony agreed with his trademark dry sarcasm. “Which begs the question as to why you‘ve been avoiding my calls."
"I was just…busy, you know."
"No doubt. I‘m whatever you‘ve been up to must be fascinating ," Tony said in a tone that suggested that he‘d believe pigs could fly before he let himself be convinced that Steve was leading an interesting life and was too busy to answer his calls.
Before Steve had the chance to protest, Stark had pushed past him and entered the room. His eyes roamed over the sparse interior, and it was clear from his expression that he didn‘t approve.
"Looks… very cozy. I guess anything personal would clash with the ascetic vibe you‘re clearly going for—"
"Was there something you wanted, Tony?" Steve interrupted with barely-concealed impatience.. Usually he could handle Stark‘s motormouth tendencies, but lately his patience was wearing thin, and he had an inkling that Tony was here for a very specific reason.
"So glad you asked. I‘d figured since we‘re all out of cosmic threats and government conspiracies, you would have some spare time on your hands."
Steve crossed his arms. "Like I said, I‘m busy."
Stark rolled his eyes. "Not sure moping in your apartment counts as being busy, and since you clearly have some time on your hands, I have a proposition for you."
Here we go. Steve sighed inwardly, trying hard not to let his annoyance show. "I might be able to make some time. What do you need?"
Tony let out a huge and somewhat exaggerated sigh of relief. "I need help. I‘ve been planning the third annual Avengers Christmas bash, and I‘ve realized I‘m in over my head."
"Not sure what you expect me to be able to contribute. Why don‘t you ask Pepper—"
"She‘s out of the country. Something about a business meeting with a potential investor for our clean energy project. Sounded boring so I didn‘t really listen. Pepper won‘t be back until Christmas Eve, and as it turns out, I‘m a terrible party planner."
"Why do I find that hard to believe?"
"I wouldn‘t know. I like to attend parties. Organizing them, as it turns out, is a lot less fun."
"Then don‘t."
"Don‘t be silly, of course there has to be a party or else Barton would never forgive me. He‘s really looking forward to it."
Steve was surprised. "He said that?"
Tony sniffed. "Not in so many words, but I‘m sure he does. And so do the others. We deserve a little fun, especially you after everything that happened this year."
Steve refrained from pointing out that Tony‘s idea of fun was vastly different to his own.
"Anyway," Tony continued, clearly either not noticing or not caring about Steve‘s lack of enthusiasm. "Help me, Obi Wan Kenobi. You‘re my only hope."
"I‘m sorry, what?" Steve asked, now utterly confused. Sometimes it was like Tony was speaking in a foreign language. Sure, it sounded like English, but it made no damn sense.
Tony‘s eyes widened comically. "Star Wars!" he exclaimed as if that explained everything. Maybe it did to Tony. Steve‘s continued puzzlement must have been written clearly on his face. "Nothing?" Tony asked, sounding offended. "We really need to work on your education, Cap. Not being familiar with the greatest space opera of our time is unacceptable. But don‘t worry, I‘ve got you covered."
"Strangely enough, I wasn‘t worried," Steve replied sardonically.
Once again, Tony ignored him. He pulled out his phone, and a second later, the vibration in his pocket told Steve that he had a message.
"Just be over at the tower this Saturday at 10 a.m. Thanks for your help Cap, I really do appreciate it."
It clearly didn’t matter that Steve hadn‘t technically agreed to any of it. Looking at Tony‘s excited face, Steve didn‘t feel like raining on his parade so he just shrugged and said: "Sure thing, Tony. Glad I can help."
Five minutes later, he closed the door with a sigh. He knew Tony meant well, but planning Christmas parties wasn‘t on his list of favorite activities at the best of times. All he could hope for was a last minute alien invasion to save him. Sadly, he was pretty sure that none were in his immediate future.
It was almost ten in the evening when Bucky was done with his last supply run. He would be leaving New York in three days at most, if everything went according to plan. Wisely, he had been avoiding anything that might make him reconsider, including Steve. He would likely never see his friend again, so he had decided to get used to his absence sooner rather than later.
A noise out of a dark alley to his left brought him out of his reverie. Something was calling out in distress.
He followed the sound, keeping a close eye on his surroundings. While the noise was clearly not coming from anything human, an ambush was always on the table. He‘d do well to stay vigilant at all times.
As he came closer to the source of the sound, he saw that the alley ended in a fenced off section. Bucky looked closer and spotted a small shape moving in the shadows.
Pulling out his phone, Bucky directed the light towards the shadow on the ground. A small snow white kitten had got stuck in a hole in the chain-linked fence, and it was trying frantically to pull free in the face of the approaching light.
Bucky quickly directed the light elsewhere so as not to agitate the creature further. "Hey there," he said quietly, dropping to his knees next to the kitten. "Don‘t be afraid. I‘m going to get you out of this."
He held his right hand out to the small cat and waited patiently until the animal had calmed down. It might be a stray, but thankfully it didn‘t seem afraid of humans.
Even as he thought that, the little cat made another desperate and hurt sound. "Okay, stay calm," Bucky said reassuringly. "I got this."
With that, Bucky reached out with his left hand and widened the opening in the fence further, careful not to hurt the creature any more. Once it was free, the cat remained huddled pitifully on the ground.
Bucky stared at it for another minute, considering his options. It might be hurt, and it was probably better to take it to a vet just to make sure. It also likely would need some time to recover and heal.
But if he made it his mission to take care of this animal, he would have to postpone his plans, at the very least for a couple of weeks until he found it a new home.
The kitten moved against his leg, purring loudly. That settled it. "Guess you‘re coming home with me, little one." Bucky leaned down and picked it up. The cat didn‘t even attempt to wiggle out of his hands.
Then he placed the shivering furball underneath his jacket and closed the zipper so only its head stuck out. "Should probably think of a name for you. Got any suggestions?" A contented purr was his only answer, and despite himself, Bucky's heart melted.
Steve probably should have guessed that he wasn‘t the only one Tony had roped in to help him. It was still surprising to see Bruce Banner, of all people, lounging in one of Tony‘s overly large and likely priceless leather armchairs when he arrived at the Avengers tower at ten AM sharp.
"Welcome, Captain Rogers. Make yourself at home. Mr. Stark will be with you shortly," Jarvis‘s disembodied voice filled the room. Steve thought that he would likely never really get used to Tony‘s butler AI. Jarvis sounded just a little bit too human for his taste. It was uncanny.
Bruce's smile was a lot more welcome, though. "Hey, Steve. Great to see you. Tony didn‘t mention you were going to join us."
"Yeah, he didn‘t mention you either."
"Party planning is not really my area of expertise, but Tony was very insistent. Apparently spending the holidays at home in solitude is anti-social. I tried - in vain - to convince him that I prefer it that way."
"Sounds like Tony," Steve said dryly, realizing with a jolt of surprise that he was actually happy. Felt like the first time in months. "But honestly I‘m so glad you‘re here." Bruce's friendly and laid-back attitude made him easy to like, and he was probably the only one of his new makeshift family that understood the meaning of comfortable silence.
"Tony made it clear that this party is important. Apparently it’s Natasha’s favorite event of the year."
Steve raised his eyebrows. "And here I thought Clint is the one who simply can’t live without it. Or so Tony said."
"Clint? He’s never attended one of these. Prior engagement every year, though he keeps us in the dark as to what the engagement actually is. I’m sure Natasha knows, but there’s no getting her to spill any secrets. Which you would know if you had managed to attend any of the ones we've had so far." There was no admonishment behind the words. Steve supposed that the only reason Bruce had attended every year was because he didn’t have the heart to disappoint Tony.
"Guess we're doing it for Tony, then."
"Maybe," Bruce said, growing somber. "Though I think we both know who he is doing this for." He gave Steve a pointed look.
"What? You think he‘s doing this for me?" Steve asked incredulously.
"We all know what happened, Steve. If some of us have kept their distance, it’s only because we didn’t want to impose. But I hope you know that we‘re here for you if you need us."
The proclamation left Steve speechless, his stomach twisting. For months he had been preoccupied in his single-minded pursuit of any clue that may lead him to Buck. It hadn‘t even occurred to him that his friends might have been worried about him. Least of all the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. "You think Tony is worried about me ?"
Bruce's expression was serious. "I know he is, Steve. Maybe he really wants this party, but I assure you you‘re here because he wants to make sure you‘re okay. And since it‘s Tony, he had to find the most roundabout and extravagant way of doing that."
Steve was spared from answering that revelation by their host‘s sudden and convenient appearance. "Sorry for the delay, I had to deal with a little science emergency. Glad to see you both could make it. I took the liberty to write down a few ideas." Tony dropped a stack of papers on the couch table. "Now, shall we begin?"
As expected, nobody had come looking for their cat, and the small creature had ended up staying with him. Thankfully she hadn’t been as badly hurt as he had feared at first, and the vet had provided him with a helpful list of medicine and supplements for his new houseguest. Alpine had been with him for less than a week, but already Bucky was certain that he couldn’t leave her behind.
Which meant that his travel plans would be delayed until he was certain she would be able to handle a prolonged flight and subsequent quarantine.
When he opened the door to the apartment, he realized immediately that something was wrong. Usually Alpine would greet him at the door, but the little cat was nowhere in sight. All that greeted him was silence.
"Alpine? Here, kitty kitty," he called. No reply.
Bucky's stomach sank, a knot of fierce anger and worry twisting into shape inside him. Frantically, he checked every room, but none of them were occupied.
Finally, when his worry had nearly reached fever pitch, he reached his bedroom and realized that the window was slightly ajar. The gap was small, but big enough for a small cat to squeeze through.
He rushed to the window and opened it, looking down at the fire escape. It was empty. No sign of his cat.
Damnit. If Alpine had taken a stroll outside, would she be able to find her way back? The vet had warned him that it might take a little time until she got used to her new surroundings.
What if she was hurt? He had to find her.
Outside, heavy snow had begun to fall, covering every inch of the city in white. It looked rather pretty in the late afternoon sun, but Bucky had no time to appreciate the view. He began his search in the nearest alley, gradually widening the search radius and even, against his better judgment, asked a few passersby whether they had seen a white kitten.
Hours passed without any success, until he came by the same alley where he had found Alpine a few days ago. The second he entered the alley, a small shadow rushed out of the dark, scrambled up his leg and squeezed through the opening in his jacket.
"There you are," Bucky said, the strength of his relief surprising him. After a long, steadying breath, though, it was quickly replaced by anger. "What the hell were you thinking? I told you to stay inside."
Unsurprisingly, Alpine ignored the tirade and tried to get comfortable under the jacket, her small claws digging painfully through the fabric of his hoodie. Bucky didn’t care. All that mattered was that he had found her again.
Unbeknownst to him, a pair of eyes had been following the interaction. Under any other circumstance, he would have become aware of the shadow that followed him all the way back to his apartment. But as it was, for once the vigilante ex-assassin was too preoccupied to notice.
Steve found himself in the midst of a full blown blizzard.
Snow was falling heavily, and Steve was shivering in his clothes. He felt smaller somehow. As he looked down, he realized that the ground was much nearer than it was supposed to be.
And suddenly he realized that he was alone.
That couldn’t be right. Bucky had just been here, only a moment ago. Where had he gone?
In the distance, he glimpsed a shadow through the heavy snow and fog. A dark haired boy was walking ahead of him through the snow. Steve called out to him, but the boy didn’t turn around.
"Bucky, wait up. That’s not funny. Buck, please stay!"
Steve woke up with a start, his shirt and boxers drenched in sweat. The sound of his cell phone cut through the stillness of the apartment.
He glanced over at the alarm clock on his bedside table and realized that it was 9.30 pm. Who would be calling him at this hour? It took him another second to find his phone and check the caller ID.
Oh. "Hey Nat. What’s going on? Did something happen? Do you need help?"
"Don’t worry, everything is fine," Natasha assured him. "No need to call in the cavalry."
"Oh, I see," Steve said, even though he didn't.
"Don’t sound so disappointed, Steve.” Nat teased. "I’m just calling to make sure you don’t accidentally skip Tony’s Christmas party."
"Why would you assume that?"
"Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps because you missed the first—"
"I was down with the flu,"
"and the second—"
"Food poisoning."
"Uh-huh. Weird how you only get sick during Christmas time. Anyway, Tony is really counting on you to show up to this one. And you can’t make me suffer through another one of these all by myself. I need someone who can handle a drink, Steve. I’m counting on you."
"Alright, alright. Not sure why everyone is making such a big deal out of this but I promise I’ll be there. I helped organize the damn thing."
There was a laugh at the other end. "Wonderful. See you on Friday." And with that the phone went silent.
That was weird. Not only was Natasha not usually in a habit to call him at night unless there was an emergency, he really was beginning to wonder why everyone was losing their mind over this party. He could have sworn he wasn’t the only one from the team who preferred to give these social gatherings a pass.
But apparently his team had decided that Steve Rogers was the Grinch and needed to be taught the value of Christmas. So he would suffer through it with as much dignity as he could muster, and be grateful that Christmas only came once a year.
For a brief moment, Bucky wondered what exactly had woken him. Cold air filled the room, and he saw out of the corner of his eyes that the curtains of his window were moving. A shadow loomed in the corner of his bedroom. He wasn’t alone.
The realization hit him like a bucket of cold water, and he was immediately wide awake as years of training kicked in. Bucky didn’t move. No need to let the intruder know that he was no longer asleep.
Maybe it was just a burglar? Then again, probably not.
He reached underneath his pillow and pulled out the small knife that he kept there. At least for once his paranoia was paying off.
"I know you‘re awake. Don‘t worry, I come in peace," a female voice said, sounding oddly familiar. Which, all things considered, wasn‘t exactly reassuring.
Giving up all pretence, Bucky set up straight and switched on the lamp on the bedside table. The woman stepped into the light, and Bucky recognized her immediately as the woman who had been in Steve’s company that day on the bridge. And that wasn’t the first time he’d seen her either.
Since he was now apparently blessed with an eidetic memory of all his past crimes, he knew exactly who was standing in front of him, smiling softly and looking perfectly at ease. Natasha Romanov, the Black Widow.
"Somehow I very much doubt that. If you’re here to take revenge—"
"I’m not," the Widow cut him off mid-sentence. “I’m here for a friend."
Bucky didn’t reply to that. He just continued to stare, the grip on the knife tightening. Against most opponents he probably wouldn’t need a weapon. Not so with the Widow. She was the kind of threat he ought to take seriously.
Threat? He mentally shook himself. It was like his Winter Soldier programming had taken over, assessing threat level, planning countermeasures. He knew that Romanov was Steve’s friend. Which could only mean one thing…
"Did something happen to Steve?" His concern for his best friend drove any other thought out of his mind.
To his utter surprise, Natasha’s face lit up in a smile. "Steve is okay, for the most part. Or at least he will be, once I tell him where you are."
"You can’t. He can never know.”
"Yeah, about that," Romanov said, her expression sobering. "You can’t keep doing this to him. He needs to know that you’re okay."
The room fell silent. Bucky was weighing his options. He could try making a run for it, but that meant leaving Alpine behind, and he knew that he couldn’t bring himself to do that. He could fight, incapacitate or possibly kill Romanov. He immediately dismissed the thought. He wasn’t a killer anymore.
Perhaps he could make her see reason. If he explained that it was in Steve’s best interest, perhaps she would see reason and leave him alone.
It was worth a shot.
"Since you’ve apparently decided to stick around, how about we take this to the living room? Can I offer you anything? Coffee, maybe?"
"Coffee sounds good," Romanov replied, a small smile playing around her lips. The friendly demeanour didn’t fool him for one second. She had been the Red Room’s deadliest assassin. Turning his back on her was ill advised.
"Very well," he motioned towards the bedroom door. "After you."
Her smile widened into an almost wolfish grin, but she didn’t even try to pretend she didn’t know the exact layout of his apartment.
Ten minutes later, Bucky handed Romanov a steaming mug of black coffee and settled down next to her on the couch.
"I’m afraid I don’t have any sugar or milk—"
"That’s fine. I like it black." Alpine took that exact moment to jump onto the couch and settle down on Bucky’s lap. He stroked her fur absentmindedly, his entire focus still on his unexpected visitor, who arched her eyebrows over the rim of the coffee cup. "I didn’t realize you had a pet."
Bucky didn't engage. "As much as I enjoy smalltalk, I think we should stick to the reason you came here."
"Very well," Romanov conceded, her pleasant smile still firmly in place, although Buck could swear that it looked a little more forced. Perhaps he shouldn’t push her. This entire plan hinged on them coming to some sort of understanding.
"I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. But you can’t tell Steve about this."
"Why not? He misses you—"
"He doesn’t even know me. Nor what I’ve done for all these years. He wouldn’t understand."
"With all due respect, you’re wrong.”
"How could you possibly know that?"
"I gave him your file," she said, with a hint of pity in her voice. "He knows about the Winter Soldier program. He knows everything. The brainwashing, the torture…" She faltered. Bucky realized with a start that she genuinely cared.
"Does he know about all the people I’ve killed?"
"He knows enough. He also knows that none of that was your fault. Look, the point is that Steve knows what you’ve been through, and he knows what you’ve done. You nearly killed him, so you can rest assured he knows what you’re capable of."
Bucky felt like he had been sucker-punched in the stomach. How could he even contemplate facing Steve? What he’d done was unforgivable.
"Yes, I tried to kill him, and you for that matter. Shouldn’t that be enough to convince you that I can’t be anywhere near him? That shit that HYDRA put inside my head, it’s all still there."
"That’s precisely why the safest place for you is with us. What if you snap again? There would be nobody there to stop you. I’m sure you don’t want to risk having more blood on your hands."
Bucky visibly paled. He hadn’t even considered that. Somehow all that had mattered was staying away from Steve. Not tainting his friend with his presence.
But she had a point. Bucky was still a danger. There was no guarantee he wouldn’t kill again, even if he didn’t want to.
"Then bring me in," he told Romanov grimly. "I’m sure you know a place where you can lock me up. Or better yet, just kill me."
Romanov stared back at him, apparently shocked into silence.
"Just make sure you find her a home," he gestured towards Alpine, who was softly purring.
"That’s insane. I’m not going to kill you." Romanov shook her head vigorously and shot him an exasperated look. "There’s an obvious solution to your problem. You’re coming back with me to see Steve. We've got two mad scientists and a god. If they can’t figure out how to deprogram you, nobody will."
Bucky opened his mouth to reply, but the Widow waved her hand impatiently. "It wasn’t a suggestion, and I’m done arguing. Jesus, you’re as stubborn as Steve. No wonder you two are friends." She took a quick, deep breath. "Here’s what’s going to happen. There is a Christmas party in three days. You’ll join me as my plus one. Your apartment will be monitored, so don’t even think about missing it. If you try to bail, I’ll send the Hulk after you to drag you right back, do you understand?"
"Yes, ma’am." Where the hell had that come from?
"Glad we have an understanding." The pleasant smile was back in place. "I’ll be here on Friday to pick you up. Don’t worry about finding something to wear, I’m going to take care of it. You’re going to wear a tux. I’ll pick one out for you."
This woman was a veritable nightmare.
He stayed at his place on the couch, Alpine on his lap, long after the Widow had left, contemplating how exactly his world had been turned upside down and where it all had started to fall apart.
He'd had a plan. He should have been in Budapest by now, or maybe the Bahamas.
He looked down on the softly purring cat in his laps. "Why do I get the sudden feeling that I have you to thank for all of this?"
Alpine lifted her head and looked at him, her expression almost offended. Then she jumped off the couch and stalked back into the hallway.
"Yeah, thanks a lot buddy. That will teach me to never pick up strays. What the hell was I thinking?”
Silence was his only reply.
The party was already in full swing when Steve arrived on scene. And of course it was just as unnecessarily overblown as Steve had feared. He was glad that he and Bruce had at least managed to talk Tony out of the Santa Claus sledge on the balcony with Thor dressed as Santa and eight robotic flying reindeer. Thor wouldn’t want to participate in the spectacle, they had argued, and Tony had finally conceded the point.
In truth, Steve had an inkling that Thor would have been absolutely game for this nonsense, especially after a few barrels of that Asgardian ale he loved so much. But he'd elected not to mention that point.
Suddenly Bruce appeared by his side and handed him a glass of eggnog. "Glad you’re here. I was starting to get worried."
Steve sighed into the eggnog. "I said I would, didn’t I?"
"And I shouldn’t have doubted you."
"Mmm," Steve replied noncommittally. "Where’s Nat? She told me to meet her here."
"I haven’t seen her yet. Probably fashionably late, as usual. Just remember, smile and wave. It will all be over soon." Bruce chuckled and clapped Steve on the back. Then he turned and vanished into the crowd.
"Cap! Great to see you here buddy. Here let me get you another drink." Tony bounded over and handed Steve another glass full of an amber liquid. Steve suspected that it was Asgardian ale, but if Tony was planning to get him drunk, he’d have to try a lot harder.
"Wouldn’t have missed it for the world," Steve replied, hoping that it would sound sincere or that Tony was already too drunk to notice his pained grimace.
"Happy to hear it," Tony replied with a huge grin on his face. Great. Drunk, then .
"Have you seen Nat?” Steve asked, hoping that Tony was still sober enough to notice who had joined the party.
"No, not yet, it’s probably too early - oh wait, there she is," Tony pointed towards the entrance behind them. Steve turned to look and froze.
That’s not possible.
True to her word, the Widow had picked him up at precisely the time she had suggested. She had also brought him a white tuxedo, dress shirt, black tie and black dress shoes - somehow all in his exact size. He decided he didn't want to know how she had pulled that off.
Besides, he hated all of it and wondered, not for the first time, if a quick execution wouldn't have been the preferable option. He even said so, which earned him a piercing glare.
"You’ll live. Now stop acting like a baby. You’re worse than Clint, and that’s saying something."
He wasn’t sure who this Clint person was, but going by the tone of her voice, he took it as the insult it was clearly meant to be.
As they were about to head out, Alpine came bouncing around the corner and stopped in front of the door. She fixed him with a long look, then looked over to Romanov and back to him.
"Don‘t worry, buddy," Bucky said, stroking her fur softly. "I‘m going to be back for you." He shot a quick glance in Romanov‘s direction to gauge her reaction.
"Of course you will," Romanov said, rolling her eyes. "We’ve been over this. I‘m not taking you prisoner. I just need you for a couple of hours."
"Are you sure about this? You‘re taking a ticking time bomb to a room full of cilivians."
"It‘s a room full of superheroes, Stark Tech employees and ex-SHIELD agents. They can handle themselves. And you better believe Tony has plenty of safeguards in place."
"Sounds like the last place I wanna be."
"That‘s probably true for the Winter Soldier, but I can assure you Bucky Barnes will be safe there."
"To be frank, I don‘t really know where one ends and the other begins."
Romanov reached out and touched his arm lightly. "Don’t worry. You will. In time."
Outside a stretch limousine was parked on the curb in front of the apartment block. The luxurious car drew quite a crowd. So much for keeping a low profile.
He caught Romanov staring at him as he entered the car.
"What?"
"I’m glad you decided to take the haircut I suggested. Should make you a little more presentable."
"Interesting definition of the word suggested. I wasn’t aware I had a choice in the matter."
She grinned wolfishly, her eyes glinting. "Oh, cheer up, Barnes. I’m sure you’ll have fun."
Bucky had to admit that he was actually looking forward to a social gathering. He vaguely remembered that he had loved parties once upon time. Certainly more so than Steve.
But perhaps that had changed along with Steve’s body. No reason to hide now - surely Steve had any number of starstruck ladies who would be all too happy to go out with Captain America.
He wasn’t quite prepared for the sudden intense feeling of jealousy that particular thought conjured up. What the hell was wrong with him? He decided not to examine these thoughts further and blame it all on nerves. Was this really a good idea? How would Steve react? Maybe Romanov was wrong.
Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder and realized that the car had stopped. They had arrived at their destination.
"Don’t worry. It will be okay," Romanov spoke softly into his ear. "Ready?"
"No," Buck answered truthfully. "But let’s do this anyway. After you."
Her laughter was warm and beautiful. She really was a remarkable woman. Perhaps she and Steve were more than just friends, and if so, Steve was a very lucky man.
The feeling of jealousy returned, but it was tempered by gratitude. If there had to be someone else in Steve’s life, Bucky was glad it was her.
The place was crowded with people in various stages of inebriation, which meant that almost nobody gave them a second glance. That was a huge relief. Perhaps all would work out as intended. He might even come up with a somewhat coherent response before it was time to meet Steve.
His eyes took in the place. There was a huge, lavishly decorated Christmas tree at the back of the large ballroom. A fully stocked bar took up the entire left side of the room.
Bucky spotted one of the three bar keepers who was in the process of showing off his mixing skills. His gaze wandered over to a dark haired man with an extravagant beard. He’d seen his picture in various magazines. It was their host, Tony Stark and next to him… Bucky’s eyes fell on a familiar face. And the man it belonged to was staring right back at him with an expression of shock and disbelief. So much for being happy to see me.
Bucky glanced over to Romanov, who squeezed his arm reassuringly, then backed out through the door by which he’d just entered.
Not too late to make a run for it, he mused. Just turn around and lea—
But his thoughts were rudely interrupted when something came barreling right into him, and the next moment, he found himself enveloped in a giant bear hug.
"Steve—"
Steve held onto him, gripping his shoulders tightly as he studied Bucky's face like he couldn't believe his eyes. "You’re here. It's really you. Tell me this is real."
"It‘s real. I’m here, Steve."
In an instant, all his worries evaporated. It was like the world around them had vanished, and it was only them, here, in this moment that would last forever.
Steve felt the same way, if the deep emotion in his blue eyes was any indication. "I missed you so much, Buck."
"I missed you too, pal. Merry Christmas."
"Hey, Buck?" Steve said, petting Alpine as she sat on his chest, purring.
"Yeah?" Bucky didn‘t look up from his book.
"... Why did you really agree to come to the Christmas Party?"
Bucky just hummed, not looking up and turned another page of The Great Gatsby just for show. He had stopped paying attention a while ago.
"Oh come on. Tell me!" Steve insisted.
"Didn‘t Nat tell you? I had no choice."
"Really? That‘s it?" Steve sounded dubious.
"Fine," Bucky said, closing the book with a snap. "You wanna know the real reason?"
Steve's brow furrowed. "Yeah, 'course."
"Well," Bucky smiled, soft and teasing. "Guess I wanted to see how well you clean up. Gotta say I‘m impressed. Had no choice but to fall head over heels."
"Buck!" Steve‘s cheeks turned red, a fact he quickly tried to hide by burying his face in Alpine's soft fur.
Bucky laughed, utterly delighted. It felt so good to be home.
The End