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Today is one of those days where nothing's going right. It started with Bucky gasping awake from a nightmare and sitting next his daughter’s bed, watching her breathe- just to make sure. Once she woke up, they went over Bucky’s list, like they do every morning. Everyday he makes sure to write a list of stuff he needs to do, since his memory is completely shot (a side effect of being blown up)
Then, Bucky ruined breakfast. He burnt the toast and eggs, then spilled the milk when he had given up and tried to make cereal. Most days, he was fine with just the one arm, but sometimes it was a pain in his ass.
He was late dropping off Natasha from school because he took too long psyching himself up to get on the train. When they'd finally made it, he had gotten one of those pitying looks from Nat’s teacher and a passive aggressive, “Would you like to sign her up for the carpool, hon?” from one of the other kid’s moms.
Then, he went to go get groceries at the place below his apartment, but Gabe, the usual cashier, wasn’t working and Bucky didn’t feel comfortable enough to ask this guy to help him carry his groceries upstairs, so he had to make multiple embarrassing trips.
Now, all the food is put away and Bucky is alone in his quiet apartment. He sighs, forcing himself to relax the way Dr. Banner had taught him. Maybe he should call Steve, see if he wants to get lunch.
Steve has been the best thing to happen to him since he had Natasha. They’ve been dating for two months now and he’s just the greatest. He’s funny and smart and hot and great with Bucky’s kid. He’s also the most understanding person on the face of the planet and Bucky is completely stupid about him.
Bucky's still contemplating his phone when he's broken out of his thoughts by a scuffling noise outside his living room window. All of his senses snap to alert. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He carefully and quietly grabs a knife from the kitchen drawer, then walks over to curtain. He listens carefully, and he can hear the sound of footsteps on his fire escape.
Bucky kicks the curtain aside with his foot, then sighs in relief when he sees what’s on the other side. He puts the knife down on a side table and pushes the window open, sticking his head out.
“Clint,” He sighs at the boy hanging off of his fire escape. “We’ve talked about this.”
The kid gives him a sheepish, gap-toothed grin. “Sorry, Mr. Barnes. Can I come in?”
Bucky shakes his head but pushes the window open wider and helps Clint climb into his living room. He shuts the window and locks it before crouching down to look at Clint’s bruised face. He tilts it slightly, inspecting the damage.
“Okay... this looks bad,” Clint starts, grimacing when Bucky prods a sore spot.
“C’mon, kiddo.” Bucky says, taking Clint’s hand and guiding him into the kitchen. He pats a spot on the counter and Clint scrambles up with a clumsy kind of grace. Bucky turns and digs around in his ice box for his injury peas. He kicks the freezer shut and hands the bag to Clint, who rests it against the side of his face with a familiarity that makes Bucky’s blood boil.
Bucky knows what it’s like to have a piece of shit dad and to take the brunt of his anger, but that didn’t mean he’d ever get used to seeing it on Clint. The kid was only a year older than Nat, for chrissakes.
Bucky boosts himself up on the counter to sit next to Clint and wraps his arm around the boy's shoulder. Clint leans into the touch hesitantly, then completely relaxes against Bucky’s side with a contented sigh. “You wanna tell me what happened?” Bucky asks, rubbing his thumb against Clint’s shoulder.
Clint kicks his purple sneakers against the cabinets, scowling. “It wasn’t- I mean, it’s wasn’t like usual. There were these older kids that were kicking a dog outside, and- and, he wasn’t even doing anything, Bucky! He was a nice dog and they-they-”
“Shh,” Bucky comforts him, rubbing his hand down Clint’s back, not wanting the kid to work himself up. “So you told them to stop?” Bucky asks.
Clint nods, wiping his face on Bucky’s shirt, peas resting in his lap, forgotten. “And they asked, ‘What else are we supposta do?’ and I, I told them they could go fuck themselves.” The last part is said in a rushed mumble.
Bucky huffs. “Oh, kid. I bet they didn’t like that much, huh?” Clint wraps his arms around Bucky’s middle and squeezes him like a man-sized teddy bear. It kinda makes Bucky want to track down the teenage punks responsible and show them what it’s like picking on someone their own size.
“How come you’re not at school, huh?” Bucky asks, running his hand over Clint’s hair. Clint just looks down and shrugs. “Think Barney fo’got.” He mumbles.
“He forgot to take you?” Bucky asks, and Clint nods.
Bucky keeps his frustrations with Clint’s shitty family internal and heaves himself off the counter with Clint clinging to his shoulders. “You wanna help me fix stuff?” Bucky asks, walking to the kitchen.
“‘Tasha says that’s child labor, Mister Barnes.” Clint says, squirming in Bucky’s hold. Bucky sets him down.
“Natasha’s five, what does she know?”
Clint gives him a look like he just said something stupid, which, yeah.
“I’m pretty sure Tasha’s a spy, Mr. Barnes. She knows everything.” Clint says seriously.
“Okay, fine. It’s technically child labor, but it’s fun.” Bucky amends, sitting crisscross-applesauce on his rug, pulling out his box of supplies. Clint shrugs and plops down on the carpet next to Bucky. They spend the next few hours playing doctor over people’s stuffed animals.
It was a business Bucky had gotten into accidentally after becoming a single dad. He had fixed up a few teddy bears in his Mommy And Me group, and suddenly the Moms were fawning over him and making him a website and telling their friends and now Bucky has a semi-successful business as “Dr. Bucky, Stuffed Animal Surgeon”. People sent in their old, well-loved stuffed animals and Bucky patched them up and sent them back better than new.
It worked well. He didn’t make much, but it fit with his schedule and he liked being able to make people happier, plus he got his Veteran’s Pension once a month, and that was enough for him and Nat to live off of.
“Button,” Bucky says seriously over operating table of Ella the Elephant.
“Button.” Clint replies, handing Bucky a small black button.
Bucky carefully sews the button in the place of her right eye. Clint makes beeping noises, pretending to be a heart monitor.
“Hurry Doctor, we’re losing her!” Clint cries.
“Towel,” Bucky says, and Clint pats Bucky’s face down with the couch’s throw blanket.
“Scissors.” Bucky says.
“Scissors.” Clint says, passing over Bucky’s pair of safety scissors. Bucky cuts the thread and ties it off.
Bucky sighs, tossing the scissors down and running his arm over his brow. “Double retinal replacement surgery, done.”
“It’s a miracle, Doctor!” Clint says excitedly from behind his face surgical mask. “She never thought she’d be able to see again!”
Bucky smiles and helps Clint take off his oversized blue gloves. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Nurse Barton.”
Clint throws off his mask and jumps up and down excitedly. “Let’s do ‘nother!”
“Sorry, buddy, I’m afraid that was our last patient of the day.”
Clint pout and dramatically throws himself backwards onto the carpet.
“You wanna come with me to pick Nat?” Bucky asks, and Clint bolts upright, almost running into the door.
“Tasha? Yes!” Clint shouts, dragging Bucky behind him.
“Go put your shoes on, sweetheart.” Bucky said, but Clint ignored him, rummaging around in Bucky’s pockets for keys.
Bucky grabs his shoulders to still him. “Shoes, Clint.”
Clint frowns at him confusedly. Bucky points to Clint’s feet and then signs out S-H-O-E-S.
Clint makes and “Oh…” sound and goes back to the living room to find his sneakers. Clint doesn’t like to wear his hearing aid. Bucky figures it’s for the same reason that he doesn’t want a prosthetic. They didn’t need physical reminders of their disabilities. Bucky doesn't really want to remember blowing up in the middle east, and Clint doesn’t want to remember that time his dad hit him so hard that his eardrum burst. Besides, they both seemed to do fine without the help.
Clint careened around the corner, still tying his shoe. “Kay, I’m ready to go get Tasha!”
Bucky takes his hand and lets him lock the door behind them. He has to reign Clint in because the kid keeps wanting to run, but Bucky just doesn’t have the energy to keep up with a 6 and 1/2 year old today.
They get to the preschool a few minutes early, and Natasha spots them and shouts, “Clint!”
“Tasha!”
They run to each other and collide in a hug that looks like it should be painful. They rush over to Bucky hand-in-hand and Natasha gives Clint another hug and a kiss on the cheek in a wrenchingly adorable display of affection.
“What am I, chopped liver?” Bucky asks, and Natasha sighs, letting go of Clint and lifting her arms up for a hug. Bucky gives her a squeeze. “Hey baby.”
“Hi Daddy. Thank you for bringing Clint.” Bucky chuckles and sets her down.
“Yeah, no problem, kid.”
On the walk home, Bucky almost wishes for his left arm back, just so he could hold hands with both of the kids. He pretends that it’s just because it would make keeping track of them easier.
When they get home, the kids immediately started playing the game where pretend to be assassins. While Bucky wished that they played less violent-minded games, he can't help but be impressed with their creativity. They seemed to have a shared imaginary friend named “Fury” who was “like the boss of all the spies, Mister Barnes, he’s so cool.” (“he has an eyepatch, daddy”).
Bucky supervises as Natasha punches and kicks a couch cushion, muttering in Russian and Clint climbs on top of the TV set and pretends to shoot arrows. What weird kids.
He distractedly answers his phone with a, “This is Barnes.”
“Hey, Barnes, this is Rogers.” says the warm voice on the other end of the phone.
Bucky beams, feeling himself flush. “Stevie, hey.”
“We still on for dinner tonight, Buck?” Steve asks, and it sounds like he’s smiling too.
Bucky covers the receiver of the phone, letting his head drop against the wall. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit, James you fucking disaster.” He whispers to himself. He forgot to write it down on his list, he’s always supposed to write shit on his list, he’s such a dumbass, why didn’t he put it on his list?
He brings the phone back to his ear. “So, funny story, I completely forgot about tonight and didn’t hire a sitter because I am a trainwreck of a human.”
“It’s okay, Buck. You can bring Nat to dinner with us. It’s no big deal.”
“Pssh,” Bucky scoffs. “You’re just using me for my adorable kid.”
“You caught me,” Steve deadpans. “I’ve been seducing you to steal your daughter.”
“You’re gonna have to remind me of the time and date, I forgot to put it on my list.” Bucky says, putting the phone on speaker and rummaging around for something to write with.
“Commandos Bar and Grill, 6” Steve said patiently. Bucky takes his shirt in his mouth and scribbles the name of the restaurant and the time on his stomach in Sharpie.
“Thanks, Steve. You’re the best.” Bucky says, putting the phone back against his ear.
“I know.” Steve says primly on the other end. “I’ll see you there, okay? Love you.”
“Love you too, bye.”
Bucky hung up and tried to cap the sharpie. Once he finally got it, he crowed in triumph. He picked up his phone and looked at it with a sudden rush of realization.
Holy shit.
Did Steve just-
Did Bucky just-
Holy shit.
“Daaaaad! Come help Clint, he’s stuck again!”
Bucky went to go retrieve Clint from the top of the bookshelf, his mind chasing itself in circles.
“Thanks, Bucky.” Clint mumbles against his shirt.
“No problem.” Bucky says, setting him down. “But we’ve talked about this, man.”
“Yeah, sorry.” Clint says. “I fo’got.”
“Hey, you guys wanna have dinner with Steve?” Bucky asks.
“Steve?!” Natasha gasps excitedly. “Yes!!! Clint, you gotta come to, you havta meet Steve! He’s the best!”
Clint is uncharacteristically shy for a moment, looking down at his feet. “Is he nice?” He finally asks.
“Like, the nicest, Clint.” Natasha assures him. “Also, I could probably beat him up.”
“Natasha, we don’t talk about beating up friends.” Bucky reminds her.
Natasha shrugs and goes back beating up a pretend alien.
Around 5:30, Bucky gets himself and the apartment and the kids cleaned up. At 5:40 on the dot, they're out the door. They all get to the restaurant by 5:55 without incident. Steve is already waiting for them at one of the tables, looking really nice and kind of flustered.
They reach the table and Steve starts, “Bucky, look, about-” but then he stops; frowning at the group. “I thought you only had one kid.”
Bucky shrugs. “It varies.”
Clint smiles and outstretches his hand. Steve takes it. “I’m Clint Barton. It’s nice to meet you.”
Both Natasha and Bucky turn to stare at Clint in shock. “Who are you and what have you done with my Clint?” Natasha asks, and Bucky guffaws unattractively.
Clint scowls and Steve smiles. “It’s nice to meet you, Clint. I’m Steve Rogers.” They shake hands like tiny little businessmen and Bucky has to suppress another laugh at that mental image.
The waiter comes over. Bucky and Steve order waters and the kids both get chocolate milks. They also get an order or breadsticks for the table, and the kids end up having a mini-sword fight with each other while Steve and Bucky talk.
They chat about their weeks, retelling stories that they had already told each other, just to listen to each other talk. Steve also asks both kids about how they’ve been doing, and politely doesn’t ask about Clint’s bruises.
They order their food as Steve tells a story his job illustrating a comic book. His main character called Falcon, who’s a veteran struggling with civilian life after coming home. The writer of the comic book, Steve’s roommate, Sam has been struggling with their publisher who wants the comic to be more action packed, and Sam has been fighting tooth and nail, claiming that the lack of action is the point, that the shocking thing about coming home from war is the lack of action.
The waiter comes by and asks for their order. Clint orders chicken nuggets and the waiter asks if he want any ketchup with his nuggets. Clint gets that confused look on his face that is all too familiar. The waiters repeats himself and Clint turns to Natasha and Bucky and drags his forefinger across his palm. What?
You want K-E-T-C-H-U-P? Bucky signs back to him. Clint smiles and nods and the waiter writes it down. Natasha smacks Clint’s arm and holds up a V to her forehead.
“Natasha!” Bucky says. “Don’t call Clint stupid! That was mean, apologize.”
Natasha looks down and rubs a circle over her chest in a fist. Sorry.
Clint signs forgive and points at Natasha and Natasha leans across her seat to plant a kiss on Clint’s forehead.
Steve is watching this all from across the table with hearts in his eyes.
“Your kids are adorable.” Steve whispers to him.
“Yeah, yeah they are.” Bucky says.
They walk home from the restaurant, Steve holding a sleeping Natasha against his chest and Bucky cradling Clint. They have to walk close together, because even in their sleep, the kids are still holding hands.
“About that phone call…” Steve whispers.
“I meant it, y’know.” Bucky whispers, bumping their shoulders together.
Steve smiles, heat rising on his cheeks. “Me too.”
“Cool.” Bucky says, feeling himself blush.
They get to the apartment and get both kids ready for bed while their still mostly asleep and pliant. They lay Nat and Clint down on Natasha’s bed without so much as a protest.
“Spokushki, daddy.” Natasha mumbles.
“Spokushi, baby.” Bucky says, running his hand over her hair.
“Bucky?” Clint mumbles.
“Shh, go to bed, sweetheart.” Bucky tells him, rubbing his back.
The kids cuddle up with each other and Steve pulls the blanket over them.
Steve and Bucky make their way to Bucky’s room.
“So, Clint.” Steve says, once they close the door behind them.
“He’s Natasha’s shadow. Fell madly in love with her when we moved in and now we can’t get rid of him.”
Steve raises his eyebrows at him. Bucky sighs. “He breaks in sometimes to get away from his shitty dad. I may be super attached to him. Slightly.”
“Slightly.” Steve says.
Bucky sighs, wanting to end the conversation. He wrestles out of his shirt, and is absolutely not prepared for Steve’s burst of laughter. Bucky frowns, throwing his arm out in an approximation of “what the fuck, man.”
Steve covers his mouth with his hand, still laughing.
“I’m getting a complex here, Steve.” Bucky complains. Steve catches his breath and wipes at his face.
“Sorry, Buck, I’m sorry, you just-” He points at Bucky’s torso and Bucky looks down to see his smudged handwriting.
Bucky laughs and looks up and Steve who’s doubled over. Bucky fakes a growl and tackles Steve onto the bed.
The next morning, Bucky wakes up being aggressively snuggled by a comic book artist and two tiny assassins. He eases Natasha off of his chest and untangles Clint from his arm. Bucky finds Liho, Nat’s stuffed cat, and puts it between the two kids. Then he slips out from under Steve’s arm and leaves the three people he loves most to cuddle amongst themselves.
He brews coffee and starts making waffle mix, because waffles are Clint’s favorite and Nat will eat anything with chocolate chips in it. It’s almost nine o’clock when there’s a knock at the door. Bucky frowns and takes off his apron.
He pads over to the door and looks through the peephole. He sighs and opens the door.
“Barney. You here for your brother?”
He looks at the teen who has a nasty looking shiner under one of his eyes. He’s also holding a duffel bag. He shifts restlessly, eyes roaming everywhere but Bucky.
“Uh, hey Mister Barnes.” He scratches the back of his neck and glances up to meet Bucky’s eyes briefly.
“What’s up, kid?” Bucky leans against the door frame.
“Um. So, you know how my dad is kind of an asshole?” He asks.
“I’m familiar.” Bucky answers, glancing back at the bedroom.
“Yeah, so… I sort of got a job yesterday. With the circus.” Barney says.
“You’re running away to join the circus.” Bucky says flatly.
“Seems that way.” Barney says. “And I didn’t want to leave Clint alone with our dad, but I can’t really take him with me… and he really seems to like your family, Mister Barnes-”
“Barney?” Clint stumbles out into the hall wearing one of Bucky’s shirts that’s comically over-large on him. He’s dragging Liho behind him and rubbing at his eyes in a way that’s heartbreakingly sweet.
“Hey, hey Clint.” Barney says, crouching down. Clint keeps walking toward him sleepily until he bodily collides with him. Barney brings his arms up to hold him.
“Listen, buddy. I’m- I have to go away for a while.” His voice cracks at the end of the sentence.
Clint, draws back looking confused and upset. “What?”
“I’m leaving, champ. I wish I could take you with me, I really do, but I can’t.”
Clint’s eyes fill with huge tears and he clutches Barney’s shirt like he could make Barney stay through sheer force of will. “You-you’re leaving? But- I don’t, I don’t want to be alone-”
Bucky crouches and starts rubbing Clint’s back soothingly. “No, no, sweetheart; you’re not gonna be alone. You’re gonna stay with me and Nat for a while, would you like that?”
Clint’s eyes go wide and he looks wildly at Bucky. “I can- I can stay here?” He asks, voice quiet.
“Yeah, yeah, kiddo. You can stay here. You don’t have to go back. You can stay with me and Natasha for as long as you like.” Bucky promises.
Barney is looking at Bucky with such gratitude and relief that it seems to take years off of him. Bucky realizes that he’s just a scared kid, not at all unlike Bucky when he’d lied on an enlistment form at the age of 16, just thinking anything is better than this.
“I’ll call you, every single day Clint. I brought your stuff, here-” He shoves the duffle bag towards Clint with shaking hands. “I love you some much, Clint.” Barney says, grabbing his brother in a fierce hug.
Bucky watches the exchange, emotion rising in him. Natasha wanders out of the room and grabs her discarded stuffed cat and frowns at the Barton family, then at Bucky. “What’s burning?” She asks, and Bucky curses and runs into the kitchen to take the smoldering waffle out of the waffle maker. He grimaces and throws the charred carcass of the waffle into the sink.
Steve comes into the kitchen coughing. Bucky immediately starts chasing him out of the kitchen. “Get out of here, man. I don’t want to kill you with my shitty cooking.”
“Are we keeping Clint?” Natasha asks, climbing onto the kitchen counter.
“I guess so,” says Bucky.
“You’re kind of a sucker, huh?” Steve asks between puffs of his inhaler.
“Oh yeah.” Bucky agrees as Nat says, “Big time.”
He feels a tug on his pant leg and looks down. Clint lifts up his arms and Bucky leans down to pick him up. “Oh, sweetheart.” Clint wraps his arms around Bucky’s neck and Bucky tries to squeeze him reassuringly. “He gone?” Bucky asks, and Clint nods against his chest.
“Okay, I’m gonna take care of this. You guys got waffles?” They nod seriously. “Alright, team.”
Bucky’s totally got this whole parent thing down.