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'I could do this all day.' The man on stage warbles, and god Bucky hopes that isn't true.
'Is this song still going?' An unimpressed voice asks as a man drops into the seat next to him.
Bucky glances over with a baffled expression. He thought he made it pretty clear with his patented 'fuck off' glare that he didn't want anyone sat next to him. It had worked pretty well so far, but apparently the blond is immune.
The glare slips from his face as he recognises the man who's watching the performance with a tense expression. 'Hawkeye?'
He chuckles under his breath. 'I feel like we're past code names at this point, Soldier. Call me Clint.'
'Clint.' Bucky nods in confirmation.
Clint glances back at him. 'Please tell me you hate this as much as I do?'
'It's awful.' Bucky replies, arms folding across his chest. 'Therapist thought it would be good for me. Confront my past or something.'
'Oh hey, mine said the same thing.' Clint beams, holding a hand up.
Bucky very cautiously high fives him as the audience breaks out into applause.
'Not here for the therapist though.' Clint explains. 'My kids wanted to see it. And I only have them a few days before they go back to their mom for the holidays.'
'You have kids?' Bucky blinks, surprised by the information.
'Three.' Clint says with a proud smile, pointing somewhere in the crowd.
Bucky spots the trio quickly. A young girl turns around in her seat, spotting her dad immediately. She moves her hands and Clint chuckles under his breath, signing back at her.
'She's asking if I'm okay.' Clint says quietly. 'She's perceptive that one, she got my eyes.'
'Are you? … Okay?' Bucky isn't sure why he asks it. It just seems the right thing to do.
'Three of my dead friends are prancing about that stage. I'm guessing I'm about okay as you are.'
Bucky hums in acknowledgement.
'I heard Sam gave the shield up…' Clint says. 'That's… shit.'
'... Yeah.' Bucky confirms after a long pause. 'It is.'
A small boy wanders down the aisle towards them, he tugs on Clint's sleeve. 'Lila's crying.' He whispers loudly.
Clint looks up to the stage, where the ballerina playing Natasha leaps about the stage. 'I think that's our cue to go.' Clint stands, picking up the boy and balancing him on his hip. 'Hey, if you want to bitch about the musical sometime, I live in Bed-Stuy.' He says, rambling off the address.
An older boy walks down the aisle to meet them, the girl wipes her face to hide her tears before joining. Clint wraps his spare arm around her, dropping a kiss on her forehead. 'Lets go. Everyone say bye to Uncle Bucky.'
'Bye Uncle Bucky.' The trio of kids say quietly before they head out of the theatre.
'Enjoy the show.' Clint says with a wink as he leaves.
Bucky watches them leave, reluctantly turning his head back to the musical once they're out of sight. He gets through one more musical number before he hits his limit. Snatching up his jacket, Bucky storms out of the theatre as they hit the 'civil war' portion of the show.
***
Bucky looks down at his book, staring at the list of people he needs to apologise to. For some reason he can't shake the memory of Clint's bright smile. With a sigh, he adds the man's name to the list, quickly followed by the rest of the Avengers who were imprisoned in the Raft thanks to him.
His therapist notices. Of course she does.
'What prompted the new additions?'
'The musical you made me go see.' He sighs, avoiding eye contact. 'Reminded me that I'm the reason the Avengers broke up.'
'Is that really all? Just the musical?'
'I ran into one of them at the musical.' He admits, knowing she won't relent until he talks.
'Which one?'
'Hawkeye.'
'Ah.' She says in an obnoxious, all knowing voice. 'He's local. It makes sense you would run into him.'
Bucky narrows his eyes.
'Hawkeye is infamous in S.H.I.E.L.D circles.' She tells him with a small laugh. 'I know a lot about him.'
'Hm.'
'I also know he's easy to talk to. Might be an easy way to cross one off your list.'
'...His kids are in town.' Bucky says, trying to find an excuse not to visit Clint.
'They go back tonight.' She tells him.
He raises an eyebrow.
'I also know his ex-wife.' She smiles, Bucky can't help but think she'd make an excellent supervillain. 'So you have no excuse not to work on your homework.'
'...If I agree to go see Hawkeye, can we sit in silence for the rest of the hour?'
'Deal.' She smirks, content to sit in silence until their time is up.
***
After a long, sleepless night, Bucky works up the nerve to go visit Clint. Part of him really hopes that the man won't be home, but he collects two coffees from Starbucks, just in case.
He can't stop the part of him that scopes out the building as he enters. It may look like any other run down apartment block, but there's a hidden network of cameras and state of the art locks in place. He spots the Stark Industry logo stamped on one of the hidden cameras, instinctively pulling his hood over his head as he walks through the halls.
The door he's looking for is painted a vibrant purple which has started to peel and fade over time. He knocks, praying for no response, but he has no such luck.
Clint looks like he's gotten the same amount of sleep as Bucky, with heavy dark circles lying under his eyes. He's dressed in purple pyjama pants and a baggy white t-shirt featuring a purple archery target. His eyes scan over Bucky in a way Bucky instantly recognises as checking for weapons. Finally, his eyes fall on the coffee cups in Bucky's hands.
'Barnes, you beautiful bastard. Please tell me one of those is for me.'
'Got one black and one latte. You can have both if you want em that bad?'
'Just the black will do. Gimmie, gimmie.' Clint says with grabby hands. He takes a long gulp the second the cup hits his hands. 'Come on in, what's up?'
Bucky hovers by the door awkwardly before taking a deep breath and walking in.
'Um.' He clears his throat as he closes the door behind him. 'My name is James Buchanan Barnes-'
'Yeah, I know your name.' Clint says with a confused chuckle.
'And I'm here to make amends.' Bucky says, stubbornly pushing through.
'... Ohhh.' Clint nods knowingly, he drains the rest of his coffee and looks at Bucky. 'Therapy homework?'
Bucky nods.
'Been there.' Clint gives him a weak smile. 'Wait, what are you apologising for?'
'You were locked up because of me.'
Clint blinks, a confused expression on his face.
'The Raft.'
'No, I remember where I got Iocked up.' Clint tells him. 'Wasn't your fault though.' He's eyeing up Bucky's coffee cup so Bucky hands it over. Clint smiles gratefully as he takes a swig.
'But you-'
'Nope.' Clint interrupts. 'I had to pick a side. Still don't know if I picked the right one but I don't regret being on the side that protected you. It's not your fault I followed Captain America blindly and got locked up for it. I knew the consequences, that's on me.'
'I still need to apologise.' Bucky says weakly.
Clint glances at Bucky up and down. 'Alright. Sorry. Start again?'
'... I am no longer the Winter Soldier. I am James 'Bucky' Barnes, and you're part of my efforts to make amends. I'm sorry that because of me the Avengers fought and you ended up in prison.'
'I forgive you.' Clint says the second Bucky takes a breath.
'...It's that easy?'
'Yup.' Clint smiles easily. 'You want to stay for breakfast?'
'Really?'
'Yeah, I drank your coffee. Least I could do is make you some pancakes.'
Bucky can't come up with an excuse quick enough, Clint has already jumped up to his feet and is heading to the kitchen.
While he's left alone, Bucky glances around the apartment. It's a large space, a large TV opposite the purple couch Bucky cautiously sits on. Various kids toys are scattered about the place, including a plastic bow and plastic arrows which are connected to the wall by brightly coloured plungers instead of arrowheads. As he takes stock of the place, a one eyed Labrador walks in. He makes eye contact with Bucky and pads over, jumping onto the couch next to Bucky and resting his head in the man's lap.
Bucky vaguely remembers wishing he could have a dog as a kid. He uses his right hand to lightly pet its head.
'That's Lucky.' Clint says, appearing at the door. 'Assistant-dog extraordinaire.' He tells him, he whistles and Lucky jumps off the couch. Clint takes his space and places two plates of pancakes on the coffee table.
'Thanks.' Bucky mumbles, he can't remember the last time he ate something other than protein bars. He makes a mental note to not tell his therapist that.
They eat in silence for a few moments before Clint starts to talk. Telling Bucky all about his kids and their visit to New York. He doesn't seem to expect Bucky to contribute to the conversation, so he lets the information wash over him while Clint talks, trying not to get distracted by how the man manages to be even more attractive up close.
'Now, I don't want to rush you out.' Clint says as he collects the empty plates. 'But I have a doctor's appointment. And normally I'd happily bail on it, but these hearing aids suck and I need the upgrade.'
'That's alright.' Bucky tells him as he stands. 'I stayed longer than I thought I would anyway.'
'I'm glad you came over. If you ever need to talk to someone who isn't your therapist or Sam, you're welcome anytime okay?'
'I don't really talk to Sam anymore…'
'All the more reason to come by.' Clint says with a smile. 'Gimmie your phone.'
Bucky complies, watching as Clint types his number in and calls his own phone. 'Ta-da. Let me know how the rest of your list goes.'
Bucky nods stiffly, taking his phone back. He already knows he won't use the number. Just like he doesn't use Sam's. But it seems like the easiest way out.
'Bye Clint.'
'See ya Barnes.'
'Bucky.' He corrects automatically, despite that little voice in his head that tells him that's not the right name. He doesn't deserve it anymore.
'Bucky.' Clint hums, leaning against his front door as Bucky heads out into the hallway. 'The haircut suits you by the way. Very handsome.' He calls after him. Bucky pretends he doesn't hear, because if he turns around Clint will see that he's blushing.