Chapter Text
The English Dictionary had not enough words to keep up with the litany of curses you muttered at the second. You had stopped screaming a while ago, the team had silently thanked whatever God they prayed to for that but it did not alter the angry mumbling you still inflicted onto their poor ears.
Getting shot was part of the job, it happened before, one to your shoulder that left a nasty scar and months and months of physiotherapy. Your physiotherapist gave up on trying to tame your foul mouth. So did your friends, your team, your family.
Early on, Steve’s scowl made you raise a brow, what did he mean by “language”? He had fought in the war, you were sure he had heard, not to mention even partook in, much more creative insults. Who did he try to fool? Absolutely no one, especially not you. Mister Captain America, Sir Star Spangled Man, was no angel, to say the least. He could shove his remarks between his perfect round buttocks.
In all seriousness, you liked Steve, he was a good friend. With time, he had learned to adjust to your dry sense of humor and bad words, is all. The slight curve of his lips each time gave away the actual fondness he had developed for your creative potty mouth.
On a scale from Steve Rogers to Tony Stark, the amount of curses you threw at no one in particular and to the entire damned world, was probably a solid Iron Man crouched beside you in the jet, scanning your vitals for any sign of internal damage.You two had shouted some pretty nasty words at each other. That was how you came to show your affection toward the other, you noticed.
“What the ever loving fuck were you thinking, Y/N?”
“Shut your cakehole, Tony. I did what I had to do.”
Was your last interaction before you took off.
You yelled in pain and frustration the moment he laid you down in the jet, squeezing his cladded metallic hand so hard you were sure he felt it through his suit. It probably looked like going into labour to an outsider; you laying on the floor, screaming. Tony leaning above you, panicked, while you gripped his hand and Steve applying pressure on your abdomen to prevent from bleeding out. You decided you were going to name the imaginary baby Satan for giving you so much pain that you had started to feel dizzy from it.
Later on, once you had completely calmed down and fell quiet except for the labored breaths and the few grunts you gave when they turned you to your side, Tony had applied what you believed was some sort of cryo gel. A freezing cold gel cauterizing the entry and exit wounds. A clean shot through and through. It was a pain in your ass, a major one, but at least no damages were done to your organs and no need to fetch a lost bullet in your insides.
A small mercy.
You felt better already, the journey to a safe location was going to be long and tedious but you refused a sedative, they at least gave you painkillers and made you lay on the back seats. You felt bad for making them either stand up or sit on the floor but Natasha shot you a hard look of “don’t even think of apologizing” and Steve only smiled kindly at you, shrugging and waving the matter off. Bruce looked miserable and sweaty, truly shaken after the events encountered in the warehouse. The enhanced twins had not been kind to them, Tony and Bruce had been fighting God knew where after Bruce got tricked, leaving you and Clint to deal about the men Klaw sent your way.
The team had been so focused on the hallucinations they were seeing that the two of you had been outnumbered quickly, resulting in getting shot when you didn’t think twice and threw yourself in front of an oblivious and absent-minded Bucky. You didn’t know how you had succeeded in getting them all out in one piece while taking down Klaw’s men, the fight had been rough in the first place but the holes freshly pieced in your belly had made the matter a hundred times worse.
You can’t fail , you had repeated yourself, you must protect your team, they would do the same for you. You have to, you have to, you. have. to. You can’t let them down, c’mon, do it for them. On your feet! And that did it, you had fought harder and righteously, not only for your life but for your friends'.
You shut your eyes closed and took deep, controlled breaths, pushing the bittersweet thought aside. The bullet was worth it, it was only flesh wounds after all.
Still hurt like a motherfu--
“Hey.”
You opened your eyes at the quiet word, so quiet you were sure you had drifted off and imagined it but a very real Bucky sat on the floor, facing you. A haunted look in his eyes made your heart pang, no doubt caused by whatever he saw in his lucid dream. Or nightmare. Everybody pretty much looked the same, hollow shells of themselves, wandering around the small space deep in thoughts. That made you wonder what they saw, what they were feeling, but you did not ask, that was nor the time or place.
You shifted uncomfortably to have a better look at Bucky but he stopped you, a gentle metal hand clasping your shoulder to still you. You gritted your teeth in pain, even if you were laying on your good side, it stung at every slight movement you made.
“Don’t move,” he smiled softly at you, but something was off, it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Oh, hell no. Don’t you dare.” you said, sighing as you realized there was guilt in his features.
He frowned, confused at your words and you continued, “Don’t give me the guilty look, just… don’t.” he opened his mouth but you cut him off immediately, “And if you try to apologize, I will make you eat Steve’s shield.”
That made him huff in amusement, and this time, he smiled a real smile at you. Almost a fond one and that made you feel better.
“You’re surely as stubborn as him, though the language is not as adequate--”
“Oh, fuck off, Barnes.”
“I’m glad you didn’t lose your tongue.” He glanced briefly at the bloody gauze covering your middle and he tensed again.
“Stop that.” You snapped not unkindly but firmly. The soldier in him reacted right away and his eyes found yours once again. “I’m okay, I will survive. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” You chuckled weakly and started to cough. He moved to get up but you stopped him, loosely grabbing his wrist. He didn’t fight it and sat back cross-legged on the floor. “I’m fine.” You murmured, swallowing thickly, the thought of Bucky fetching water for you threatened the nausea you had kept at bay for a while.
“You should rest,” he told you in a low, raspy voice. “You look pale.”
“Just say I look like shit,” you said. “that will save you a lot of trouble.”
“You look like shit.” He responded in an amused voice.
“Why thank you. So do you.” you answered in a fake offended voice.
He was the one to chuckle this time and it made you look up. He truly looked like hell, you noted. The dark circles under his eyes completed the haunted look. His hair was a mess and some strands were coated against his sweaty face. He looked totally disheveled.
Both of you stayed silent for a long moment, the only noises around you were the low hum of the engine as you flew, the quiet whispers of exchanged conversations fading in the background. You also could hear Bruce’s music from here, he had it so loud it faintly escaped the confine of his headphones. You spared a glance in his direction, he was a complete wreck, you thought. He had taken the worst hit after what had happened. Not only he had his brain messed up with but he destroyed half the town in the battle. It saddened you, Bruce did not deserve this.
After this, your eyes fluttered close, restless sleep gradually overtook your body and mind.
Bucky remained close to you the entire time until you landed, watching over you as guilt was gnawing at him.
A soft shake of your shoulder woke you up and to your unfounded disappointment, found Steve staring right back at you.
“We’re here.” he told you.
You nodded and pushed yourself in a sitting position. Ow. Just fucking ow. You grimaced when you stood up, something warm and heavy slid off you but with some difficulty and with the rest of your still functioning -- although altered by sleep -- reflexes, you caught the thing in your hands. You eyed the jacket numbly as if it was going to give you answers the longer you looked at it.
Steve approached you and broke the silent one-way conversation you were having with the jacket. “What?”
“I said, do you need help walking?”
“No,” you shook your head, “I can do it on my own.”
Steve looked like he wanted to argue but knew better than to do so, he simply gave you a nod and joined Tony’s side.
You still held the jacket in your hand and decided to just go with it and placed it back around your shoulders. You caught the scent and the familiar smell hit you all at once. Your eyes searched for Bucky and when you found him, you stepped in his direction carefully, trying to not cause any more damages to your injuries by stretching them any further.
That was what you intended to do anyway but the moment you tried to move, you nearly collapsed if it wasn’t for a strong pair of arms hauling you back up again.
“What did I say about moving? Jesus, you’re terrible.” Bucky said, pressing you against his chest with an arm wrapped around your waist to keep you upright.
You did not have the heart or energy to retort any clever and witty remark, you let him handle you like a ragdoll down the exit of the jet with incredible care. Every step you took made you agonize in pain, almost wishing for a quick death already. Bucky kept you close to him, your arm sliding to find leverage against his back. He quickly helped you up the stairs, why the fuck were there stairs in the first place? Everything looked blurry and unfamiliar, you cursed under your breath for the millionth time when you set foot in an unknown house, the smell of freshly baked goods covering the smell of Bucky’s jacket and--
“Honey, I’m home!”
Wait, what.
You blinked a couple of times, watching your surroundings more closely: drawings on the walls, pieces of legos on the floor and was that a dollhouse? A woman appeared in the living room, she had a huge belly, you noted. Pregnant, close to term.
“Hi. Company.” Clint said. “Sorry, didn’t call ahead.” The woman cupped his face with a relieved smile and kissed him. That made you even more confused, if only you could think properly right now.
“This is an agent of some kind.” Tony said to Thor’s equally confused face.
“Gentlemen, this is Laura.” Clint interrupted.
“I know all your names.” She chuckled, waving at the group of you. You would have waved back it wasn’t for your left arm secured around Bucky and your right hand pressing against you belly to stop the pain to spread. Only Tony waved a tiny awkward hello.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hurried and loud footsteps echoing and approaching quickly toward you. Two children threw themselves in Clint’s enthusiastic arms, kissing their little heads and calling them “sweetheart” and “buddy”.
Steve made a hilarious face, torn between confusion and utter disbelief.
“These are smaller agents.” Tony pointed at them, obviously trying to comprehend what was happening.
“Did you bring Auntie Nat?” The little girl said, all shy and hopeful.
“Why don’t you hug her and find out?” Natasha told her as the kid ran up to her and, indeed, hugged her tightly.
It must be a dream. All of this must be a dream. You fell asleep on the jet, the painkillers got to your head and you were dreaming. Since when Clint had a family? Since when Natasha was an Auntie? Since when--
“Sorry for barging in on you.” Steve announced, serious and professional, breaking the moment.
“Yeah, we would have called ahead but we were busy not knowing that you existed.” said Tony.
“Yeah, well, Fury helped me set this up when I joined. He kept it off SHIELD’s files. I’d like to keep it that way. I figured it’s a good place to lay low.” Clint said to all of you.
Ah.
“I missed you,” Nat smiled at the woman, no, at Laura. “How’s little Natasha?” she asked, touching the prominent belly.
“She’s… Nathaniel.” Laura replied with an apologetic face.
Natasha bent down and spoke directly to the baby still nestled inside the warm belly of her mother, “Traitor.”
A laugh escaped you and Bucky looked down at you, startled by the sudden sound.
“What? Nat threatening an unborn baby is funny.” you shrugged.
Thor abruptly left the room, you heard him wield his hammer and fly away. You turned your head and looked through the window, outside you saw Steve walk away. Whatever they had seen in their respective hallucinations, you knew it had shaken them both. All of them, if you were being honest. So you didn’t try to ponder too long on their impromptu departures. They needed space.
Bucky tightened his hold around you and you let out a hiss, he mumbled an apology and all eyes drifted toward the pair of you.
“Shit, right. Y/N, are you alright?” Clint untangled himself from the arms of his wife and son and stepped to you with a worried look.
“She needs to lay down,” Bucky said, “She lost too much blood.”
“You can take one of the guest bedrooms upstairs,” Laura said then cringed a bit when she mentally counted how many you were. “Some of you will need to double up, though.”
Clint laughed, “Yeah, that’s not gonna sell.”
“We’re all adults, Clint, we can behave as such and share a bed.” you said, annoyed. You just wanted to lie down and curse the entire planet away from the children’s innocent ears.
“Sure, so what, Cap and Stark will share a bed? You and Cyborg here too?” He glanced back and forth between you and Bucky.
“I don’t mind,” you hummed unpleasantly when Bucky shifted against you, tensing and therefore unconsciously gripping your waist tighter, causing to apply uncomfortable pressure against your wounds. “If you’re okay with that?” You asked him.
Bucky nodded warily.
“Okay, then, let’s get you set up.” Clint said.
Once you had climbed the stairs, Bucky still glued to your side to help you, you nearly fainted when you finally stepped in the relatively average size bedroom. He sat you down on the bed and you let out a long sigh, relaxing every muscle in your body as best as you could. The journey had been long and you were truly exhausted. The soft mattress supporting you felt heaven like, a fluffy cloud, a marshmallow, every soft thing you knew, you named it.
The mattress sunk next to you and you watched as Bucky sat in his turn. He rolled his shoulders and you broke the silence, “Thanks for the jacket, by the way.”
“It’s nothing.”
He didn’t look at you and you didn’t try to make him. Instead, you studied his profile and stifled a yawn behind your hand. He did the same and you found the gesture incredibly cute, you’d never seen him yawn before and you looked away, both of you chuckling.
“You need to sleep, Bucky.” you said tiredly, still not looking at him.
“I’m not the one who got shot.” And after a pause, “I will sleep on the floor.”
“What?” you blurted out, “No, you’re not.”
“I slept on worse, trust me.”
“And I believe you but this is ridiculous. The bed is big enough for two and I’m not leaving you sleep on the goddamned floor.”
“Okay--”
“We are grown adults, we can share a bed--”
“Y/N--”
“don't Y/N me! If you sleep on the floor I will kick your ass myself, I swear to Christ I will do it--”
“Y/N!”
“What?!”
“Okay. I said, okay.”
“...Oh.” You stopped your babbling and dumbly sat there, not knowing what to do. “Good. And you say I’m terrible. Look at yourself, Barnes.”
“Shut up and lay down.” he said with a smile and felt your cheeks flush. “Do you need anything?” He looked around in the small space for anything useful. “Water? Something to eat?” He opened the door of the joined bathroom and scanned the room there too.
“No, I’m fi--”
“I’m getting you water.” He ignored you and entered the bathroom, you heard the faucet open and the water run. Bucky came back a second later with a glass of fresh water and you were lying if you said you weren’t so thirsty your mouth tasted like ash.
“If you don’t drink this time, I will kick your ass myself.”
“Are you serious? You can’t use my own words against me. That’s just playing dirty there.”
Bucky handed you the glass with a smug smile and you gingerly took it, sipping carefully the first few sips of your drink then gulped down the rest. You thanked him and you laid down laboriously atop the covers of the bed, groaning as you did and still clutching Bucky’s jacket close to your nearly shivering body.
“Stay here,” he said as if you had a choice and he set the empty glass on the nightstand near you. “I’ll be back in a sec’.”
“Mm-hm.” Your eyes closed on their own accord and when Bucky came back not even a couple of minutes later, you were already fast asleep.
When you woke up hours later with a splitting headache and every nerves of your body on fire, you found the bed empty. You limbs were stiff from sleeping in the exact same position for too long. You groaned and buried your face in the pillow. The only trace indicating Bucky had slept in the same bed as you was the the stray strand of dark hair you found on the pillow next to yours. Well at least he had listened to me.
It took half an hour to actually get up and drag yourself to the bathroom. You splashed some water on your face, you discarded yourself from Bucky’s jacket slowly and raised your shirt to assess the battlefield that was your lower abdomen in front of the mirror. The cryo gel had dissipated some time during the night and left both wounds puckered and angry dark bruises rounded the battered skin. It had also bled some more, totally soaking the bandages. You needed stitches which meant more pain and more scars. You sighed and rolled back down your shirt and began your journey downstairs.
It wasn’t a small affair to do it on your own, you almost wished for Bucky to be here to help you again but you reminded yourself he wasn’t at your service and you were perfectly capable without him. You shook your head at yourself, Bucky was simply trying to be nice and helpful. You were just a bitch and you knew it. It wasn’t a case of a dude saving the damsel in distress, for all you knew, it was actually you who saved his ass. So some help was welcome, you made yourself admit, asking wasn’t going to hurt your cold-hearted self.
“Well lookie here, sleeping beauty finally decided to grace us with her presence,” Tony said brightly from the table, “not dead, then.”
“You wish, Stark.” You replied as you made your way to the table and sat down on a vacant chair next to him.
He stood up and squeezed your shoulder fondly.
“How are you feeling?” Steve asked on the opposite side of the table. He was clad in a simple blue shirt and your eyes drifted to Bucky who was sitting beside him, wearing a black hoodie, left hand shoved in a pocket. His face was no longer sweaty and you noticed he had showered. God, you needed a shower too.
“I need stitches,” you sighed.
“We’ll make you some,” Bruce said as he placed a plate of food in front of you. You could kiss the man right now, it smelled delicious and your stomach growled loudly, hunger making you almost forget the feeling of pain. “But first, you need to eat.”
“You don’t need to tell me twice, Doctor.” And so you ate.
You ate fast, too fast, but everybody seemed relieved that you did so. They paid no attention to your almost ill-mannered way of shoving the food in your face and instead, they talked about Clint, Laura and the kids. This was how you came to know about how they met, when they married, how close Nat and the kids were and the little girl, Lila, sat on Natasha’s lap, tucked happily against her aunt. It was cute, you’ve never seen this side of Clint before and you honestly liked his family.
After the plates were cleared and cleaned, which Laura had refused you helped in any way, making Clint participate in your place (you had laughed silently at how Clint had obeyed without batting an eyelash, you liked this woman, you could get along with her, you thought) and so you had only stayed there, letting you feel the abnormal yet very relaxed atmosphere of being a guest at The Bartons’ family house.
“You coming?” Tony said, breaking you out of your reveries.
You nodded and slapped away his outstretched hand to help you get on your feet. Tony giggled and led you to another room to perform the very needed stitches.
“My grandma walked faster than you.”
“I’m going to shoot you, Tony.”
“No, you won’t. Otherwise, who will pay for all your toys?” he said and pointed to the couch at the far corner of the room.
You sat on the designated couch. “I will take pleasure in shooting you, don’t underestimate me.”
“Sure thing. Now take off your shirt.”
“Oh, god. Are you always so straightforward with women?”
“They like it.” he replied and joined you, “Come, now. Be a good girl.”
“I’m going to shoot you. Twice.”
He grinned and you couldn’t help but grin back as Tony kneeled in front of you. You raised your shirt and tucked it underneath your bra so you wouldn’t need to hold it. You shouldn’t have been surprised when Tony touched you with care and softness but you were, and the moment broke when the needle pierced your skin. You cursed and Tony looked up to you.
“We can give you something to sedate you while I--”
You breathed deeply and shook your head. “Just get it over with. Please.”
Tony got back to the matter at hand and finished as quickly as humanly possibly to stitch the first wound on your right side. He made you turn to the other side and cleaned the second wound, the exit one, and started stitching again.Tears prickled at the corner of your eyes and you bit your cheek hard enough to draw blood. It hurt.
The mission was supposed to be simple, retrieve and destroy Ultron, but the fucker had the intelligence of an alien artifact and of Tony & Bruce’s ressources, of course it wasn’t going to be so easy. Not to mention the fast and creepy siblings that had somehow sided with him. They gave a hard fight and when you thought it was over, the weird witch had fucked with their brains and it had enraged you to no end.
Now you all needed to lay low and you had to recover from a gunshot wound. Just wonderful.
“It’s done.” Tony said as he stood up, the slapping sound of his plastic gloves being removed made you finally breathe out.
“Thank God,” You rolled down your shirt for the second time that day and you felt so much better you could either cry or hug Tony.
“I didn’t expect so much gratitude.”
You rolled your eyes but said seriously, “Thank you, Tony. I could practically hug you right now.”
“Please don’t, you’re gonna put blood on my clothes and you need a shower first.” He wrinkled his nose in fake mockery, but it was true, you do needed a shower.
You were about to say something when you noticed what he was wearing, “Wait, is this plaid? Oh, my God, are you wearing dad clothes?” You smirked and his face fell.
“Those are Clint’s clothes, so yeah, they are dad clothes. You tell him.”
“How does it feel to wear something cheap?” You snickered, taking too much pleasure in annoying him back.
“I feel so much regret, I’m taking those stitches back.”
“Don’t you fucking dare or I’ll call Steve.”
“Yeah? Well I will call Barnes, then.”
You glared at him, wondering why exactly he had said that but you had not the time to answer anything when the door of the room opened and Laura’s head peeked inside.
“I left you some of my clothes in the guest bedroom so you can have a nice shower, Y/N.”
“Thanks. Yes, please.” You nodded gratefully at her.
She smiled in return and closed the door behind her.
“I’m going before you say I stink again.” You made a beeline for the door and at the last moment, you turned to Tony. “Really, thank you for the stitches.”
“Urgh, don’t go all soft on me, Y/L/N. Get out of here.” He said with a smile.
You did as you were told and went to your bedroom. Well, temporary bedroom.
Hot water hit your face in a gentle cascade and you moaned at how good it felt, you let yourself stay under the spray for a little more, enjoying how your body relaxed and how a lot more human you were feeling after finally being clean, removing the sweat and blood from your body. The hot water quickly ran out, figuring everybody before you tried their best at leaving hot water just enough for everyone. You rinced yourself with lukewarm water, it didn’t bother you, you only made a mental note to wake up earlier tomorrow to enjoy it a little more than today. You carefully wrapped yourself in a towel, made a quick affair of drying yourself off but when you reached for the clothes Laura lent you, that was when you realized you had left them on the bed.
Opening the door of the bathroom, you almost collided with someone’s chest as you got out. You yelped involuntarily but cool fingers caught your wrist to still you.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were in there. I should have knocked.” Bucky said and turned to face away from you when he saw in what state of undress you were in.
“Jesus Christ, you scared me.” You secured the towel firmly around yourself, feeling suddenly very self-aware of the only barrier covering your naked body.
“I’m sorry.” He rubbed his hands on his face and you could tell he was blushing.
Bucky Barnes, The Winter Soldier, deadly cold-blooded assassin was blushing and it was the most endearing thing you encountered in your life.
“It’s fine,” you laughed. “I’m sure it’s not the first time you saw a woman’s ankles.”
As a response, you received a groan and that made you laugh even harder.
“Wait, please don’t tell me it was forbidden to see a woman’s ankle in the forties or something, because if that means you have to marry that person afterward I’m--”
“No!” He turned to you, trying to salvage a bit of the situation but he obviously forgot for a second you were still standing there, partially naked, and he gasped, turning away again furiously. “Can you get dressed? I’m just-- I’m gonna wait outside, ‘kay?”
Bucky didn’t wait for an answer and stormed out the room, leaving you alone with the rest of dignity you possessed.
After dressing up quickly and applying large bandaids you found in the bathroom’s cabinet to cover both of your wounds, you went downstairs to find Bucky. The living room and kitchen were empty and to your surprise, you found yourself out of breath already. You knew you couldn’t keep up like you used to, it was no joke that injury, and you needed to take it slow even if your were impatient by nature. The stitches pulled uncomfortably under your shirt and you kept a hand pressed firmly there to try to attenuate the pain.
You couldn’t find Bucky. He had vanished and you didn’t know where he had gone. That bugged you. You didn’t mean to embarrass him, you wanted to lighten the mood by making a joke but after all, you didn’t know the man that well to really know his sense of humor. Everybody knew yours, that much was obvious, but Bucky… He was always so quiet and brooding in his own corner but you didn’t want to give up.
Going back to the living room, you went to make a detour in the kitchen to swallow a couple of painkillers Bruce and Clint had left you in one of the cupboards. Your body was in a much better shape, you healed rather fast if you kept your body stimulated and not laying horizontally all day, you had learned to ignore the pain long ago and being in a team of superheroes didn’t allow self-pity or rest.
Thinking about it as you wandered in The Bartons’ household, you wondered: what else could you do other than to rest anyway? Steve and Tony had updated you on the team’s current status: undetermined stay. Great, now you had all the time in the world to lament about your condition.
Bored, you were bored. It was boring, you hated staying too long without anything to do, this was the first time in the past couple of years since you joined the Avengers that you had gotten so fucking bored.
Sighing, you sunk down on the couch and stretched your legs in front of you. Where the hell was everyone? Where had Bucky gone?
“Do you want to draw with me?”
Discarding the arm you had laid above your eyes to hide from the blinding sun, you blinked a couple of times at the little girl who had appeared next to you, crayons in one hand and sheets of paper in the other. She gave you a timid smile, showing you her belongings.
“You know what? Yes, I’d love to.”
That was how you found yourself sprawled on the floor hours later, covered in ink stains on your hands and wrists, sheets of paper proudly forming a halo around the both of you. Lila had taken your hand and dragged you to her (and her brother’s) playroom to draw, you had not expected to be so engrossed in your “art” and Lila was too happy to have a friend wanting to draw with her for endless hours. You figured how lonely it must be for her here, her mother had all the housework to do since Clint wasn’t present much, her brother was almost a teen and drawing butterflies wasn’t something he enjoyed anymore. So you indulged her and you had even genuinely liked spending time with her. She told you all about her mommy but what interested you the most was the tales about her daddy, and you listened with a small smirk, Clint didn’t know yet how you were going to use all these informations to your advantage.
You were not an artist, that was for granted, but you drew with freedom and playfulness, the desk you were seated at wasn’t big enough for the pile of drawings you both created and so you had moved down. It wasn’t the best of position for your wounds and you felt sore after a couple of hours but eyeing the sketches covering the floor, it was worth it.
“Guys? Guys!” Clint’s voice echoed in the house and you yelled back a “In here!” to him.
He opened the door after a pause and his brows raised so high you were afraid they were going to disappear somewhere behind his hairline.
“What’s going on here?”
“Y/N and I are drawing, look, look!” Lila beamed, motioning to her dad to come take a look.
Clint laughed loudly when he recognized yours. He bent down and laughed harder, “I look nothing like this.” He said to you.
“Hey, I’m not Steve, I never said I could actually draw.”
You stood up and grabbed all of your drawings, seven in total. “What did you want, Clint? Your daughter and I were pretty busy here.” You stretched your back and let out a quiet “ow” when your stitches complained with the sudden move.
“Dinner time.” He kissed the top of Lila’s head, “Did you two have fun?”
“I sure did,” you replied to him sincerely and winked at her.
Dinner was ready and waiting for you, you took the only place left between Natasha and Steve. Bucky was here too, he had appeared at some point during the afternoon and you hadn’t had the chance to talk to him since this morning’s incident. His left hand was still hidden in the pocket of his hoodie and you wondered if it was intentionally done to not spook the kids. Which was ridiculous in your opinion, their dad was an avenger and a guy with a metal arm was cool to the youth, none of this job made sense but they would surely be used to it.
Natasha and you were deep in a conversation about what was the best way to eat peanut butter, she ate her sandwiches with nothing but peanut butter and you found it outrageous to not pair it with jam. Tony overheard and declared the best way was to eat it was directly from the jar with a spoon. You made a disgusted noise and said it really proved how his eating habits were the worst. Clint agreed with him while Bruce agreed with you, and Steve had explained how expensive it was to him and Bucky when they were young so he didn’t really had an opinion, Bucky nodded and surprised you when he let out a low chuckle, adding that whenever he could now, he ate it with jam. You gave everyone a smug toothy grin, pleased that your opinion was the most popular one, winning this round. When Steve got up to clear the table, you stole his chair and turned to Bucky, thanking him for the help.
“Not my fault if they have no taste in food,” he shrugged.
Your mind raced, you were hit with a dozen of questions; what did he like to eat? What was his favorite food? His favorite restaurant? Did he like pineapple on pizza? What was it like the food in the forties and during the war? Was he on a diet? Did he enjoy the food of the twenty-first century? Was he a sweet or savory person?
You came back to yourself, not realizing you had been staring at him. His eyes didn’t leave you and for a moment, his blue eyes gazed deeply into yours. You averted your eyes and for a second time now you flushed under his stare.
“Y/N?”
Laura’s voice made you resurface, were the noises and voices around you that loud before? You looked up to her and she asked you if you wanted a slice of pie. You were stuffed but home cooked meals were so rare these days you couldn’t say no. You nodded and thanked her when she handed you a plate of apple pie and with a perfect scoop of ice cream on top.
“I’m gonna need to hit the gym real soon with that delicious food.” you said to her.
“I’m taking this as a compliment.”
“You should.” you exchanged smiles.
“You won’t go anywhere near the gym in your condition.”
Bucky’s voice was as quiet as a whisper, his words intended solely for your ears. You glanced at him and he surprised you again when you saw he forked a mouthful of his own apple pie and chewed on it.
“I’m not bedridden either, Bucky.”
“You should be, though. That’s not how you’re going to heal.”
You glared at him, no trace of hostility in your eyes and said in a fake threatening voice, “If you try to mother hen me again, I’m gonna steal your ice-cream.”
He rolled his eyes and ignored you, “It’s going to get infected and it ain’t gonna be pretty.”
“Can’t say you had it coming,” and you took your spoon, ready to steal as much as you could from his plate.
He was faster than you and grabbed his plate as you lunged yourself at him. He formed a barrier with his arms around the plate, not letting you anywhere near his food but you didn’t give up just yet. You spotted an unprotected space between his chest and the table and you took the opportunity to slide your spoon in the narrow space. You knew you couldn’t get anywhere close to the plate but you just wanted to defend your case and your honor.
“Hey! Give it back, you thief!” you shrieked when he had somehow succeeded at stealing your spoon from your grasp.
“Nope, you will have to take it from me.”
You were ready to tackle him to the floor, you swore you were, but the moment you were about to, your stitches pulled so tight it made you back off instantly. Bucky saw your face grimace in pain and he dropped the spoon, “Are you okay?”
“Overextended myself.” but you nodded nonetheless, he was right in saying you should be in bed but you weren’t going to admit it.
“See? Karma.” Tony intruded. “And I’m not stitching you back up again.”
Steve nudged him not too gently in his ribs with his elbow and that made you all kind of grateful.
“You need to rest.” Bucky told you and you didn't try to argue this time. He drew out his hand in your direction and you accepted it without a word, pulling you to your feet. You said your goodbyes with the rest of the team and retired to your bedroom for the night. He let you use him as leverage in the stairs and he was kind enough to not comment on your nails digging in his flesh arm through his hoodie as you grunted in pain. Your legs shook when you set foot in the bedroom and a relieved sigh escaped your lips when finally, you found the comfort of your borrowed bed.
“Do you need anything?” he spoke as he stood in the middle of the room, giving you your space.
“No, thank you.” your lips curled in a smile and he found himself mirroring you.
When he made a move to exit the room, you grabbed his wrist and asked in a whisper, “Can you save me the rest of my pie?”
He snorted. Snorted.
“Can’t promise they didn't already eat it.”
“Vultures.” You mumbled tiredly.
“I’ll do my best.” He squeezed your hand with his free one and you hummed, curling onto yourself, welcoming sleep.