Chapter Text
You stepped through the front door of your luxury house.
The usual lonely silence droning throughout the supposedly homey place made you let out a heavy sigh. You zoned out for a second as the usual dread of coming to an empty house started to settle in.
You locked the front door and removed your work heels at the door before heading upstairs. You were running simply on autopilot as this had become your routine since your last fostered Little got adopted out.
When you passed by the playroom, you felt yourself frown. The organized bins of stuffed animals and toys stared back at you. The pretend play kitchen sits there collecting dust due to not being used for a few months now.
'This is just sad,' you thought to yourself. You'd have to start looking into fostering another Little.
You purposely avoided the half bedroom-half nursery, causing you to take the longer way to your own bedroom.
The depressive feeling of being home tempted you into a longer shower than normal. Once you zoned back in, you quickly finished and dried yourself off with a warm towel. You further comforted yourself with your favorite pajamas and scented lotion.
You went back downstairs and started the coffee maker up. You grabbed your nearby computer, removed it from its charger, and set it up for some at-home work. It wasn't necessary work though. You just...never had anything better to do when there wasn't a Little here. You thought about a pet once but you're almost never home when not on parental leave.
With specific laws in place, Littles are allowed to be at work with their parent/guardian. Most, if not all, work areas had specific modifications or inside daycares for Littles to be at work with their parent/guardian. Pets are not allowed in most workforces, so in other words, having a pet would not work for you.
You checked the stock markets for the fifth time and took a sip at your now fully made coffee. Just then, your phone lit up and the familiar ringtone sounded soon after. You picked it up, answering absentmindedly as you stared at the white and blue screen of your computer.
"Hi, Margrette. What's up?"
"Oh! Thank goodness you answered, Ma'am. The agency just got a boatload of rescued Littles and they're requesting you," Margrette's familiar voice sounded through the phone.
You instantly perked up with excitement, already heading in the direction of your main bedroom located upstairs to change into something more presentable.
"Be there in ten, Margrette," you spoke quickly before hanging up the phone.
You slid on some tights and a sweater with walking shoes. After grabbing your travel bag, you made sure to grab some socks with gripping material at the bottom.
'Grippy socks,' one of your Little fosters corrected you once.
You had to stay prepped in case you had to run behind any energetic, on-the-loose babies.
You were practically bouncing around with excitement at fostering another Little. It had been months since you fostered due to the agency you work for having a sudden decline in rescues and rapid adoption rates. You never adopted due to never getting the right feeling with any Littles. You always felt like a temporary caregiver and never a mother which you were hoping to change once you found the right one for you.
You practically sprinted downstairs once you were ready. In your excitement, you nearly forgot to lock the front door.
'Okay, excitement understood, but you're overdoing it. Safety first,' you thought, pushing yourself to stay level-headed.
Once you made it to the high security facility, the guard smiled brightly at you.
"Morning, Derek! I picked up some bacon-cheddar sandwiches for you and brought you some water," you said before handing him the container filled with several bacon sandwiches and a couple of bottled waters.
Derek was a longtime friend of yours, ever since you started working for the agency, which was about seven years ago. He rarely spoke and it was slightly refreshing since you steadily dealt with nonstop babbling Littles.
"Thanks," he said, offering you a bright and grateful smile.
You nodded happily in return.
Derek turned around to buzz you through the gate. You pulled into the outside garage and parked at your assigned parking spot before getting out and entering the building.
Immediately, you could tell there was a lot of Little rescues that came in as there were already many excited people moving around the lobby. Some were filling out paperwork, others on the phone with the brightest smiles. They were most likely looking to either foster or adopt. You smiled at the sight, knowing that feeling.
You passed them and headed straight for the back, using your badge to get through advanced security. Margrette was already waiting for you in her usual spot. She leveled you with a relieved smile once she spotted you.
"Good evening, Ma'am. Ready to see the little ones? We just rescued them from Hydra," she sighed, pushing her thick glasses up her nose.
You nodded, facial expression turning serious.
Almost every Little is a rescue here, but only specially licensed people can adopt or foster certain rescues, such as ones with powers, extreme trauma, or Hydra rescues. The care and handling that goes into those types of Littles are very specific and most people are not equipped to properly handle them.
"I'm ready whenever you are," you spoke once Margrette handed you the chart board.
You silently started to read over the known information about the Littles as you and Margrette walked to their section in the facility. It was nothing too specific as that would be on their personal charts. Luckily, there were only three Littles this time, two babies and a toddler.
You and Margrette headed down the long, long hallway. Soon enough, you and her were passing through the last security door leading to the babies.
"First up, we have Lily Kongko," Margrette said as you and her stepped up to a oneway glass window.
You smiled at the adorable babygirl playing with a nurse inside the room. She toddled around, clapping her hands happily. She'd toddle a few feet, then look back at the nurse for applause, making you coo.
"So cute."
Margrette smiled at you before moving over to the next rescue, a babyboy.
"Tyler Bronx."
He was currently being bottle fed by a nurse. He played with his right pinky toe while lying in the nurse's lap. His eyes were heavily droopy. You could tell how content he was. It made you chuckle.
"Looks like someone is on the verge of being milk drunk."
Margrette chuckled, agreeing softly before moving to the last baby.
"And our latest Hydra rescue, James Barnes. He's a very unique one and unfortunately, our toughest case."
You gaped at the precious boy sleeping on the baby blue cot with protective bars surrounding him.
He was in a blue and yellow duck footie with a clearly visible bulky diaper underneath. His hands were carefully wrapped in protective white mittens. A red and blue pacifier stuck from his mouth. The attached clip of the pacifier resembled Captain America's shield and stuck snuggly to his onesie. His hair lay against the cot in silky waves. His skin was scarred in multiple areas, showcasing the hardships he’s been through.
Your hand unknowingly came up to the glass of his nursery while you watched him. Through the window, you could faintly hear his heart monitor beep steadily.
Your heart is melting for him. All your maternal instincts and love was gearing up inside you. This is your baby, your little one. You've been waiting ages for him and now, he was right here, in front of you. You're sure of it.
"May I see his chart, please?"
Margrette nodded, slightly tense.
"Of course, but prepare yourself for what you're about to read," she said.
You looked back at the sleeping boy, feeling your heart warm like never before.
"Anything to meet him."
Margrette nodded and handed you the chart.
As you read over it all, your heart thumped in sadness while your stomach lowered with nausea.
Practically nothing was known about him except his trauma responses which was a lot.
"We're still looking into his trigger words, but we have gathered a few already. Luckily, they can only be triggered in Russian," Margrette spoke before pointing to his trigger word section on his chart.
'Seventeen, one, nine, longing, daybreak, homecoming.'
You nodded, mentally noting the words down.
"What is his recommended therapy?"
The box there was entirely blank, not even a suggestion.
Margrette bit her lip.
"We don't know yet because his trauma is so extensive and we don't even know the most of it. We wanted to observe him a bit longer before making a recommendation. His mental health is wonky, but his physical health is amazing which puts us under the impression he may have abilities of some kind. We still require weekly checkups, of course."
You sighed, slightly overwhelmed with it all, but when you looked back at the sleeping babyboy, you realized it would most definitely be worth it.
"There's just one more, teensy thing," Margrette said sheepishly, making a small gesture with her index finger and thumb.
You stared at her, making a 'go-on' motion with your hand when she took too long to respond.
"Captain America may kinda, possibly be his...legal...guardian and he requested a mandatory meeting with anyone interested in James- ah, Bucky."
You gaped at that.
"Oh- Okay. Definitely not what I was expecting. That sure is different than the Littles I've had in the past. He really is a specimen, huh?"
You turned back to James and watched with rapt attention as he turned his head to the side with his face scrunching up cutely, effortlessly melting your heart further.
"Margrette, I think this is my baby," you spoke to her.
Most would be confused by your words, but Margrette understood completely. She approached you, placing a supportive hand along your back.
"In that case, let's set up a meeting with Captain America and get you set up with Bucky as soon as possible!"