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Steve shuffled in, head down, hoping Bucky wouldn't realize he'd gotten into another fight.
"Steve."
Steve cursed under his breath, before humming louder, letting Bucky know he was listening.
"Steve, I see you in the reflection in the window."
Betrayed, Steve turned, looking at the window, guilty of giving him away, but before he could do anything else, a gentle hand forced him to turn away.
Bucky was watching Steve's face with his usual look, the one that seemed torn between his anger at all the trouble Steve was getting into and his outrage at anyone who dared raise a hand against Steve. Since they avoided him afterward, and Steve certainly didn't believe he'd scared them away, he knew Bucky had to track them down and instill in them the fear of Bucky Barnes.
"Sometimes I wish you would let it go," Bucky muttered. “Who were you defending this time? An old lady? Women's rights? The war?”
“Buck, I'm fine,” Steve said, sighing when Bucky sat him down on the couch anyway, completely ignoring him.
“You have a black eye,” Bucky pointed out, dipping a cloth into the water from the sink, wringing it out, and using it to wipe the blood from Steve's face. “And other wounds all over your face.”
“I've had worse, you know that,” Steve said, raising an eyebrow to challenge Bucky, then groaning when he realized the pain in his face.
“Stop it, Steve, it's almost painful.” Bucky murmured, tracing Steve's eyebrow with a comforting finger before pressing the ice pack to his eye. “You should have been hurt enough to know how this works.”
“This isn't funny.” Steve grumbled in response, raising his hand to press it onto the ice himself, only to see Bucky push it away, shooting him a warning look.
“Are you going to tell me who did this?” Bucky asked, the usual question he asked when he wasn’t around to see who dared hurt Steve Rogers.
“It doesn’t matter, just a couple of idiots.” Steve shrugged. “You should see what they look like now.” He joked, knowing Bucky would smile like every other time.
“I can imagine.” Bucky smiled, not disappointing Steve’s expectations. “Stop moving.” Bucky then whispered, seeing Steve try to avoid the ice cloth. “It hurts to see you hurt.”
“Sorry.” Steve muttered in response. “I’ll try not to get punched for everything.”
“That would be the day,” Bucky joked, proud of Steve’s snort in response.
“Idiot.” Steve scolded him.
“Punk.” Bucky called back.
And, as Bucky finished taking care of Steve, Steve smiled.
Bucky always did that.
***
Steve was in the kitchen when he heard the front door open. Then, he heard the sound of shuffling footsteps, and, looking at the reflection in the window above the stove, he saw Percy walking past, his head down, as if hoping Steve wouldn't notice.
Steve sighed.
“Percy.” He called back, speaking in a firm voice.
Percy cursed under his breath, making Steve smile, before humming louder, indicating he was listening.
“Percy, I see you in the reflection in the window.”
Clearly betrayed by the window, Percy looked up, staring at the window guilty of giving him away, but before he could do anything else, Steve was there, a gentle hand urging him to turn around, to show him the damage.
Steve looked at the damage on Percy's face. The black eye was the worst, but his entire face was covered in cuts and blood.
"Sometimes I wish you'd tell me when you get hurt." Steve muttered, clicking his tongue. "Who were they? The usual traffickers, or did Fury send you after someone else?"
"Steve, I'm fine." Percy said, sighing when Steve sat him down on the couch anyway, ignoring him completely.
"You have a black eye," Steve pointed out, dipping a cloth into the water from the sink, wringing it out, and using it to wipe the blood from Percy's face. "And other cuts all over your face."
"I've had worse, you know that," Percy said, raising an eyebrow to challenge Steve and then groaning when he realized the pain in his face.
"Stop it, Percy, it's almost painful to see," Steve muttered, before pressing the ice pack to his eye. “You should have been injured enough to know how this works.”
“It’s not funny.” Percy grumbled in response, raising his hand to press it into the ice himself, only to see Steve push it away, shooting him a warning look.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Steve asked, the usual question he asked whenever Percy Jackson returned from a mission injured like that, which was happening more and more now that Barton had been reassigned and Percy was growing increasingly tired.
“It doesn’t matter, just a couple of idiots.” Percy shrugged. “You should see what they look like now.”
“I can imagine.” Steve smiled, knowing full well how lethal Percy could be. If he had those cuts on his face, Steve was willing to bet the others wouldn't move at all.
“Stop moving,” Steve said then, seeing Percy trying to avoid the ice cloth.
“Sorry,” Percy muttered in response. “I'll try not to get punched for everything.”
“That would be the day,” Steve joked, proud of Percy's snort in response.
“Idiot.” Percy scolded him.
“Punk.” Steve called back.
Then, Steve froze.
Bucky did that to him, always, every time.
With a bittersweet smile, Steve continued to tend to Percy.