Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

With the first half of their groceries safely tucked away in the trunks of their cars, they made their way to the biggest restaurant in town, one Tony and Steve had visited regularly while on their previous, unproductive, vacation. Madeline’s had been diligently updated over the years, but it still had a lovely old-timey feel to it – it was nostalgic, but nothing looked like it was about to disintegrate into a pile of dust the moment the door was pulled open. The owner, a crabby-looking old man with beady eyes and a surly sneer was one of the nicest people they had met in a long time; he was more than enough to scare away the riff-raff, or so he boasted, and those who knew him knew that he was all bark and no bite. Today, the owner was nowhere to be seen, and Tony felt guilty for being glad for that – Bucky didn’t look like a respectable customer at the moment, after all, and the less attention drawn to him until he had taken a few showers, the better. Tony led the way, getting them the biggest booth without any trouble; most of the restaurant’s patrons were elderly, and had very specific seats they kept to. The booths were almost always free, likely because they were soft and squishy. Elderly hips didn’t appreciate that kind of thing – it made getting up more work than it was worth.

“Good morning,” Miranda, their usual waitress, said. She cocked a hip and stood beside their puffy black booth with a pitcher of water and a jug of coffee, her apron neatly tied over a pair of loose fitting slacks and a t-shirt. “Would you gentlemen like to look at a menu, or would you like to order right now?”

Bucky hunched in on himself. He pressed his body tight against the booth’s padded wall when Miranda glance curiously at him, neatly hiding himself behind Steve. From there, he could see every entrance and exit to the restaurant. His eyes darted around the room, watching everything.

“Is your pal alright?” Miranda asked.

“He had a long trip in,” Steve said, smiling brightly. “He’s trying not to fall asleep.”

“Ah,” Miranda said, nodding knowingly. “I’ll give you guys some extra coffee then.”

“Excellent idea,” Tony said. He glanced over at Steve and smiled when Steve gave him a stern nod. “I think we’ll have three of the pancake platters,” he said. The pancake platters at Madeline’s were some of the biggest and best Tony had had since he had been child; he and Steve generally ended up taking half of what they ordered back home with them, and today he had a feeling that they would want to have some leftovers on hand. Bucky could eat almost as much as Steve did, back when he had been a super soldier, and there was no way he was going to let the guy wait for seconds – not with that pinched look on Bucky’s face. Bucky needed food and now.

The waitress put the jug of coffee down and flipped their coffee cups right-side-up, filling them to the brim with hot black coffee. “I’ll bring the cream over in a sec,” she said, setting the last cup in front of Steve. “Did you want a heart-healthy fruit platter too?”

Steve grinned. “You know us too well,” he chuckled.

Miranda winked. “I’m guessing you want extra blueberries, right?” she said, looking directly at Tony.

“She knows us way too well,” Tony mock grumbled.

Miranda let out a breezy laugh and rolled her eyes. “You two are adorable.” She headed off to the kitchen.

Bucky let out a hissed breath through his teeth.

“Something wrong?” Steve asked, leaning against the table on his elbows.

“It’s nothing,” Bucky said. He grimaced as he glanced around the room again and then settled against the booth with a weary sigh. “I’m just tired – that’s all.”

“Right,” Tony said, pulling the glass sugar shaker closer. He didn’t believe that for a second. He shook sugar into his coffee, waiting patiently for the cream to appear. He side-eyed Bucky over the top of his mug, unsure of what to say or do next. Sarcasm was his friend, but it wouldn’t be helpful here – at least not now, at any rate. Clearly, Bucky wasn’t going to outright tell them what was wrong. They could work with that, of course – Steve was good at getting people to talk with little to no arm twisting even, but it would have been nice to know what to expect.

Miranda set a bowl of creamers down in front of Tony with a smile. “Your fruit platter will be right up,” she said. She looked ready to pinch Tony’s cheeks.

Tony grinned and batted his eyelashes at her, preening under the attention. She was the kind of person he would have wanted as an older sister. She always brought extra food, and never gave them shit about taking things home.

“Thanks,” Steve said, stealing the sugar away from Tony before he could put in more.

“You’re very welcome,” Miranda said. She winked at Steve, and headed back to the kitchen, whistling as she went.

“So,” Tony said, peeling the lids off of a tiny plastic creamer container. He usually used five to get his coffee the way he wanted it, but today felt like a six day – or maybe a seven. The coffee seemed a hell-of-a-lot more bitter than usual. “I take it things are chaotic at the tower?” he drawled.

Bucky snorted. “That’s an understatement,” he muttered.

“You just came for some peace and quiet, huh?” Steve asked, plucking one of Tony’s opened creamer containers from his hand.

Tony scowled and grabbed a replacement. “Thief,” he groused.

“Creamer hog,” Steve said with a sweet smile. He pushed the sugar towards Bucky, moving the shaker slowly so it wouldn’t tip over. “Go ahead – it’s all yours.”

Bucky eyed the sugar but didn’t pick it up.

“You don’t need to talk about it here,” Tony said, noting Bucky’s unease. He sipped his coffee slowly, savoring the taste. It wasn’t the best brew, but it was comfortingly sweet. “We can talk about it back at the beach house if you want.”

Bucky sighed. He picked up the sugar shaker and shook it over his cup of coffee, using far more than Tony and Steve combined. He picked at the tiny creamers Steve pushed towards him and sighed, dumping only the one into his cup. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he muttered, giving his coffee a swirl.

“Well, when you’re ready, we’re here to listen,” Steve said.

“Sure. Don’t wait up,” Bucky grunted.

Bucky fell asleep at the table after only a sip of coffee. The pancakes arrived shortly after he nodded off, steaming and delicious as always; the fruit platter looked fantastic, like a rainbow in a bowl, and while Tony hadn’t been all that excited about breakfast before now, his stomach was ready to enjoy everything. He picked at the melon balls and blueberries on the platter, nibbling as he watched Steve tried to gently ease Bucky awake.

It didn’t work – in fact, it backfired spectacularly.

Bucky jerked awake and jumped up so fast, he looked like he was trying to rocket clean out of his seat. He went stiff as a board and grabbed for his fork, his eyes wide and wild; he looked ready to stab anyone who got close to him, and he wasn’t likely to be gentle about it. He let out a long, slow, breath when his eyes found Steve and Tony, his chest heaving, and sat down only after letting the fork drop from his shaking hand.

“Bucky?” Steve said, softly. “It’s ok. It’s just us. You’re safe here – I promise.”

Tony set his coffee down. He glanced over his shoulder surreptitiously, trying to see if anyone had noticed what had happened, and was pleased to see that no one – not even Miranda or the cook – had noticed anything.

“I’m fine,” Bucky said through his teeth. He kept his eyes on his lap. “It’s fine. It was nothing.”

“Bucky,” Steve murmured.

“What?” Bucky snapped. He jerked away when he saw the look on Steve’s face and pushed his back against the padded booth; his face went so pale, it seemed like every last drop of blood had been drained from his body. “I’m sorry,” he blurted.

“It’s ok,” Steve said. “It’s ok – I’m the one who should apologize. I’m the one who woke you up, remember?”

Bucky crumpled, his face disappearing into his hands. His shoulders shook with silent sobs; each breath he took seemed deafening.

Tony picked up his fork and started into his pancakes. He knew it made him look callouses – cruel, even – but he had been in Bucky’s position too many times before after an anxiety attack, and he knew that it was better to not feel like everyone was staring at you. Sometimes it was nice to just cry in peace for a few minutes; he was fairly sure Bucky hadn’t been allowed to do that before. He lifted up a forkful of pancakes as Steve stared at him, both eyebrows raised, and began to eat.

“The pancakes are good today,” Tony said.

Steve glanced between Bucky and Tony before picking up his own fork. His hand hovered over the pile of pancakes on his plate. “They uh… they sure do, Tony.”

Bucky took in a sharp breath.

“It’s ok, Bucky,” Tony said. “We all need to let it out sometimes. If you need to cry, cry. We’re not judging you. We’re just here eating pancakes, right Steve?”

“Exactly,” Steve said.

Bucky’s hands lowered slightly. He sniffled, peering at Tony as over his fingers. His eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks still pale; he wiped at his eyes and swallowed hard.

“When was the last time you had something to eat?” Tony asked, nudging Bucky’s plate closer to him.

Bucky swallowed hard again and looked down at the pancakes. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “Last night maybe?”

“Eat,” Tony said. “They’re good. Trust me. You’ll feel better when you’ve got something in your stomach.”

Bucky stared down at his fork in despair. He curled the fingers of his metal hand, contemplating the fork’s position and the food as though he was being asked to stand in front of a firing squad. Slowly, his movements labored and shaky, he picked up the fork and cut into the first pancake. At first, he ate mechanically, taking every bite in and chewing it until he absolutely had to swallow it down; after a few mouthfuls, though, his limbs loosened. He leaned against the table, his lips dusted with powdered sugar, and stabbed at a piece of strawberry on the fruit platter beside Steve. “These are good.”

Tony took a sip of his coffee, savoring the small victory.

“You’re right,” Bucky said, picking at the pieces of cantaloupe and honeydew. “I do feel better.”

Tony smiled. “That’s what I thought.”

“Did you guys ever – you know,” Bucky said, his voice low.

“I’ve had my share of crappy days, yeah,” Tony said. “Rhodey’s had to pick me up and dust me off a lot, but it got better as time went by.”

“Same here,” Steve said, wiping whipping cream off of his chin. “It happens. Nothing to be ashamed about.”

Bucky scrubbed his free hand over his face. “I feel like crap,” he admitted. “I hate feeling like this.” He stabbed another piece of fruit, eyeing Steve’s plate the entire time.

“Did you want some more?” Steve asked, turning his plate around.

Bucky shrugged. His plate was almost empty, although there were a few scraps of pancake left along the edges. “I’m not really hungry.”

Steve lifted up a pancake from his plate and put it on Bucky’s with a soft smile. “Eat up,” he said.

“But you’ve only got two left,” Bucky protested.

“I’ll steal one of Tony’s if I’m still hungry when I’m done with mine,” Steve said. “Go ahead.”

Bucky licked his lips and cut up the new pancake.

By the time the last of the pancakes was packed up, and the fruit sealed away in take-out containers, Bucky was nearly nodding off in his seat. The colour had come back to his face, although he still looked like he had spent a few hours out in the cold without a proper jacket. He was docile now, in a way that made Tony nervous. Neither he, nor Steve had seen Bucky act like this before. There was ‘being comfortable’, and then there was this. It didn’t seem like a good thing, even if it did mean Bucky got up and moved without protest.

Tony paid their bill in cash, making sure to leave Miranda a generous tip, and gathered the plastic bags holding their take-out. He held the door open for Steve and Bucky, walking at the rear while Steve walked at the front, leading the way. He didn’t want to say something in front of Bucky – not now, after what had happened in the restaurant – but he knew that both he and Steve were worried. By the time they reached their cars, Bucky was almost completely unresponsive. He walked, he moved where directed, but his eyes were glazed over and half closed. Tony hoped to god that it was just sleep rearing its ugly head, and not something worse.

“Alright, so we’ve still got all our frozen stuff to get from the store,” Steve said, his voice faux casual. He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and patted at his jacket. “Do you have a pen, Tony?”

Tony fished one out and handed it over. “You know I always keep one around for you, sweetheart.”

Steve smiled crookedly. He cleared his throat and wrestled the cap off of the pen. “From what I remember, you wanted a bunch of frozen pizzas, microwave dinners and frozen fruit. Am I right, Bucky?” Steve said. He frowned when Bucky didn’t even shrug and began scribbling out a list, the words surprisingly legible despite having been written on nothing flat. “I guess we’re coming up with this on our own,” he said.

“Did you want me to grab some frozen stuff too?” Tony asked. He knew Steve would appreciate a good tub or two of ice cream, and there was always frozen pie or cake to be had, even if it wasn’t as tasty as the fresh kind. The bakery would have to be a trip for another day, he mused.

“You can pick up some things, sure,” Steve said, handing Tony the list he had drawn up. He nodded to Bucky, who was standing beside him with a vacant, but relaxed, smile on his face. “I’ll grab Bucky’s stuff and you can grab ours. We’ll meet at the till when we’re done and figure everything out afterwards, alright?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Tony agreed. He glanced down at the paper and realized that the list wasn’t what he had thought it was – it was a note.

He can’t drive like this. We’re going to need to find a way to get him home and check him over. I hope this isn’t something we can’t handle. If we need to, we’ll have to call someone in to talk to him. Any ideas who would be trustworthy?

Tony nodded sharply to Steve as Steve stepped into the store ahead of him, with Bucky’s hand held tightly in his. Steve was right. There was no way in hell they were going to let Bucky drive a car. With the way he was acting, he might hit a tree or just plain sit in the parking lot for the rest of the day. Tony grimaced; the exuberance he had felt when he had woken up that morning was now completely drained away. This wasn’t good – They would need to call someone in to talk to Bucky if this was something bad. They could handle the little things, but neither he nor Steve were trained councillors or therapists.

Steve grabbed a basket and headed off into the store with Bucky trailing behind him.

Tony scooped up his own basket. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, juggling everything, and started walking as slowly as he could. “Jarvis? I need you to do me a massive favor,” he said.

“Yes, sir?” Jarvis said.

“Look up a list of therapists that specialize in PTSD and trauma,” he said. He wouldn’t force Bucky to see someone, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be ready if the time came. “Get someone with security clearance – someone who doesn’t blab to the press and all that. You know the drill.”

“I have compiled a list of several therapists, all of whom come highly recommended by both Agent Romanoff and Agent Coulson,” Jarvis said after a minute of silence. “I have emailed it to your phone, sir.”

Tony let out a soft laugh. “Why am I not surprised those two would have that kind of information lying around?”

“I believe they have used the resources themselves at one point or another,” Jarvis said. “Or at least, that is what Agent Romanoff has informed me.”

Tony nearly dropped his phone. Natasha had willingly admitted to talking to someone? He hadn’t expected that of her; normally, she kept everything so hidden away, it was hard to tell what she was thinking, let alone what she had been up to in a given year. He smiled and shook his head. If Natasha was willing to put that kind of trust in them, to admit seeing a therapist for Bucky’s sake, then things might just be alright after all.

“Do you require anything else, sir?” Jarvis asked.

“Speaking of Romanoff,” Tony said, heading towards the candy aisle, “How’s she doing? The wedding party turned out alright, didn’t it?”

Jarvis let out a soft hum. “I believe she felt the occasion was adequately catered, sir,” the AI said. “She has informed me that she will be at SHIELD debriefings until the day is over, and that she will call you before she leaves New York.”

“She’s coming out here?” Tony asked, bewildered. He hadn’t thought that Natasha would be leaving the town quite so soon; she hadn’t mentioned it to him, and he had assumed that her duties – however limited they now were – with SHIELD would keep her busy for at least another week. The wreckage from the church probably hadn’t been completely cleared up yet, and there was likely some Hydra goon blood SHIELD would need to scour from the earth. He wondered idly if it was her choice to head out to visit them, or if Fury had ordered her to go there on his behalf. He picked up a bag of scotch mints and dumped them into his basket. He had always found mints soothing when he was having trouble sleeping; if he was lucky, Bucky might feel the same way. Comfort was the name of the game today – they could all use some of it. He had the money to burn, and he planned on using it as much as possible – without giving away that he could afford to buy the entire town a few hundred times over or more – to make sure they had what they needed. He paused in front of a bag of soft caramels and tossed them into the basket before moving on to bags of beef jerky. Both Steve and Bucky had a bizarre love for jerky; they seemed to enjoy anything that had been dried out and over-salted. He hit up the bulk foods aisle and scooped a massive bag of salted peanuts, and then on a whim scooped out a bag of trail mix, filled with dates, mixed nuts, cranberries and cherries. That done, he headed out of the aisle and sauntered his way over to the frozen foods section, where he found Steve standing beside the upright freezers filled with frozen pizza. Bucky was standing at Steve’s side, his eyes open and glazed over.

Steve smiled brightly at Tony’s approach. “I see you had fun,” he chuckled. “Ooh – is that beef jerky?”

“Yep,” Tony said. “What’s going on with him?” He pointed at Bucky and nervously chewed on his lower lip.

“Bucky? Oh, he’s just sleepwalking,” Steve said, pulling open the freezer door. He pulled out a box of spinach and mushroom pizza and put it carefully in his basket.

“That’s sleepwalking?” Tony asked. He pulled a face and tried not to shrill laugh of relief. “I didn’t know people could do that.”

“I didn’t either,” Steve admitted. “He used to sleepwalk when we were kids, but he grew out of it – he never did anything like this back during the war. It’s a little creepy, but I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”

“It’s not a little creepy, Steve,” Tony snorted. “It’s a lot creepy. Look at his eyes – shit. It looks like he’s staring right at me, but there’s no one home. He’s out like a light.”

“He’s definitely out,” Steve said, smiling softly. “I hit him with the freezer door by accident earlier and he didn’t even blink. He just kind of wobbled backwards and leaned up against the freezers beside him. It scared the hell out of me.”

“How did you figure it out?” Tony asked. He waved a hand in front of Bucky and got no response.

“Oh it was easy,” Steve laughed. “I was asking him all these questions and he just started snoring, like I was the most boring person in the world. I’m not sure if I should be offended or really relieved.”

“I’d go with relieved, if I were you,” Tony said.

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Steve agreed. He picked up his grocery basket, rearranging the frozen food inside so it didn’t topple over the sides and end up on the floor. “At least he looks happy. I hope he’s dreaming about something nice.”

“Same here,” Tony said.

“We should probably ask Jarvis about it at some point,” Steve said, eyeing Bucky cautiously. “Just to be on the safe side, I mean.”

“Exactly. I’m thinking this means that the people who trained Bucky did a lot more than we know,” Tony sighed. He didn’t like it that Bucky was sleepwalking during the day like some kind of zombie, but it was could have been much, much worse. This way they didn’t have to worry – or at least, he hoped they didn’t.

“I’m sure there’s a lot stuff he doesn’t know about himself,” Steve said, his expression turning dark. He clenched his fists and let out an angry snort. “Those bastards must have spent years messing around with his head. I feel so stupid for not thinking about it before now – I should have looked for him when he fell. I should have done something.”

Tony wrapped an arm around Steve’s shoulder and gave him one-armed hug. “What happened wasn’t your fault or his. You couldn’t have known – you thought he was dead.”

“This was Hydra’s work,” Steve said, bitterly. He pulled away, glaring down at the floor. “I should have known.”

“It’s more the Red Room’s work with a hint of Hydra,” Tony said. “Bucky said he was hired by Hydra – not that he was with them the entire time he was the Winter Soldier. There was no way you could have known what they were up to there in Russia – the Red Room was even more secretive than Hydra. No one knew it even existed aside from a handful of SHIELD agents and Natasha.”

“Bucky told you he was hired by Hydra?” Steve asked, resting his basket against his hip. He looked startled.

Tony frowned. “Told? No – he didn’t really say anything about it. Natasha said it – it was the rumor going around. She was pretty sure it was good intel, and Clint and Couslon agreed with her.” He looked over at Bucky, who was still standing beside the freezer looking completely out of it. “I wonder if any of its even true. I never did follow up on it. I mean, Natasha, Coulson and Clint interrogated Bucky back then, but I don’t know if that particular question actually came up in conversation – I wasn’t exactly having a good time back then.” He shuddered, remembering the beach, the water and the way the Winter Soldier had towered over him – the way the water had tasted in his mouth. He was still for so long, Steve tugged on his arm in concern.

“Tony?” Steve asked. “Are you ok? What’s wrong?”

“It’s fine – I’m fine. Just remembering things,” Tony muttered. He was getting better at pushing the thoughts of the beach and the water – of that night – away, but he knew it was only a matter of time before the nightmares surfaced again. He glanced over at Bucky, who now looked close to going face first into the freezer. “Hell, I don’t even know if Bucky knew how he ended up with Hydra. He never talks about it, and I have this feeling like they didn’t ask if he wanted to have any part of their lovely organization.”

“They never did know how to ask politely,” Steve said, dryly. He grabbed Bucky’s arm and began tugging him towards Tony. “Come on, Buck,” he said. “Let’s get all this stuff to the till and head on home. You look like you could use a nice soft bed to fall into.”

Bucky didn’t say a word, but he followed along.

Tony and Steve hauled their grocery bags out to the street where their car and Bucky’s sat waiting. One look at Bucky made things perfectly clear; he wasn’t going to be driving anywhere until he had gotten some sleep. Leaving him alone was out of the question.

“I’ll drive Bucky’s car back,” Tony decided, closing their trunk. “Where do you think he’s keeping his keys?” He didn’t want to have to go digging around in Bucky’s pockets like a creep; they were close, but they weren’t so close that it felt natural to be sticking his hands in the guy’s pockets without permission.

Steve had no such compunctions. He patted at Bucky’s coat, feeling along the pockets and then patted at Bucky’s jeans. He pulled the car keys free, smoothly putting the pocket’s liner back in place and handed the keys off to Tony. “Don’t worry,” Steve said when he caught sight of Tony’s bemused smile. “He used to do this with me all the time when we were younger. We have a long-running agreement that digging out keys out of pockets is fine by both of us if its absolutely necessary. I used to have to fish his keys out all the time when he got drunk.” He opened the passenger seat and led Bucky towards it, helping Bucky sit down. He buckled Bucky up and then closed the door. “A word to the wise– he’s extremely ticklish when he’s drunk, so don’t get anywhere near his armpits or elbows when you do it or you’ll get a fist to the face.”

“Good to know,” Tony laughed.

“So,” Steve said. He closed the passenger side door and stepped away from the car. He made sure his back was to the window and motioned for Tony to turn around as well. “Where are the keys to his place?” he asked. “I know you’re hiding them.”

“They’re at our Beach House,” Tony confessed, keeping his voice low.

“I don’t think we should let him go home alone tonight,” Steve murmured.

“Me neither,” Tony said.

“So what do we do?” Steve said.

“I say we be sneaky and somewhat evil,” Tony said.

“Oh?” Steve smirked. “What did you have in mind?”

“Drive him around in circles for a bit so I can hide his keys – he can’t go home alone if he can’t get through the front door,” Tony said.

“You think that’ll work?” Steve said, pursing his lips.

“He wouldn’t have come up to us to ask for the keys if he had been willing to break in all on his own,” Tony said.

“Good point,” Steve said.

“I’ll call you when can head home. I’d rather not risk him finding out that we’re pulling the wool over his eyes, even if he is sleepwalking. I like my spleen where it is,” Tony chuckled.

“Alright,” Steve sighed. He ran his slender fingers through his hair. “Jeeze,” he muttered. “When you told me we were getting a vacation, I didn’t think this was on the itinerary.”

Tony snorted. “It wasn’t – I know for a fact I didn’t have the words ‘nursing our friend back to health’ on that list. The only thing I wanted was to get you into bed.”

Steve smiled. “We can still do that, you know.”

“I know,” Tony murmured. “We’ll just have to sneak around. It’ll be fun. And hey, if we’re lucky we’ll get some time together before the Avengers, aliens, Hydra or someone else decides to barge in and wreck everything.”

Steve went up on the tips of his toes and kissed Tony on the cheek. “Do me a favor,” he said. “Find some wood to knock on when you get home so you don’t curse us.”

“I have some wood in my pants you can knock on,” Tony said, grinning slyly. “I mean, if you want.”

Steve gave Tony another kiss and gently slid his hand down the front of Tony’s pants.

Tony let out a whimper.

“Don’t drive home too fast,” Steve purred. He gave Tony’s cock a gentle squeeze and slid his hand free, returning to their car.

Tony shifted from foot to foot, hoping his erection wasn’t visible to damn near everyone in the surrounding area. His breath quickened as he lunged for Bucky’s car, the keys jangling in his hand.

Tony didn’t drive like a maniac back to the Beach House, but it as a damn close thing. He pulled into the parking spot, killed the engine and threw himself out the door, hastily locking the car behind him. He fumbled with his house keys, his fingers stiff from clenching the steering wheel so tightly. He wrestled the door open. His hands were sweaty; his pupils blown. Keys – he needed to find the keys and then maybe they’d find some way to have fun without someone walking in on them. And hell, if they had to fool around with Bucky in the same house, he could be quiet; he had had more than his fair share of good times in cloakrooms and closets during parties, after all. God he wanted Steve.

He found Bucky’s house keys on top of the microwave in a ceramic bowl shaped like a cat. Whistling to himself, pleased by his discovery, he stuffed them into his pocket and pulled his phone free. He dialed Steve’s number, petting Mabel’s furry head as she tried to climb his leg.

“You can head back,” Tony said, his voice raspy. He licked his lips and tried not to think about what might happen when Steve got home. There was no point in getting worked up now – not when Bucky was going to be possibly awake and in the house with them.

“Alright,” Steve said. He cleared his throat. “I hope you didn’t touch anything without me.”

Tony’s voice cracked. He let out a pained whimper. “No – no. I was good. I swear.”

“You’d better have been,” Steve warned. “I don’t want to get back there and find you in a puddle on the floor.”

Tony chuckled. “Believe me, I don’t want that either. How did things go for you two?”

“Bucky and I took a trip to the bakery,” Steve said. “We got those cookies you like so much. He fell asleep on the counter while I was paying and I had to pat his back until he woke up enough to get moving again.”

“That’s kind of adorable and yet mood killing,” Tony said.

“I know,” Steve sighed. “We’ll be home in a few minutes. Do me a favor – find the keys to my Beach House. Once we get him settled in our place, I want to head over there where we’ll have some privacy. Jarvis can babysit for a few hours – I’m sure he and Mabel will be more than enough to keep Bucky out of trouble.”

“I hope so,” Tony said. “See you when you get back.”

“Alright,” Steve said. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Tony said. He hung up and set his phone down on the counter with a happy sigh. He stared down into Mabel’s wide eyes, knowing that mischief was only moments away. “So,” he said. “You’re going to have to babysit. I can pay you in catnip if you want – I’ve got all the good shit in a can in the cupboard, but don’t tell Steve. He thinks I’m spoiling you.”

Mabel let out a half-purr-half-meow and wound herself around Tony’s legs in a figure eight.

“Alright,” Tony said, stepping carefully around the cat. “So – Jarvis – you’re up for babysitting too, right? Because despite what Mabel thinks, she’s not going to be able to do this alone.”

“Duly noted, sir,” Jarvis said, his voice gliding smoothly from the house’s hidden speakers. “The guest room is stocked with blankets and linens, but there are still a few blankets remaining in the closet. I believe Mr. Barnes would benefit from having something soft and plush around – as would the cat.”

“That’s a good idea,” Tony said. He stroked a line down Mabel’s back, and gave her tail a gentle tug. “You’re going to be a good girl, right? No sleeping on his face, or biting him in his sleep, right?”

Mabel gave sneezed at him.

“Is that a yes or a no?” Tony asked.

Mabel meowed and sat down beside Tony’s foot. She sank her teeth into his shoe and held on for dear life. Sighing, Tony slowly made his way to the closet. He had blankets to collect, with or without promises of good behavior from the hairy demon attached to his shoe.

Tony waited for Steve on the porch with Mabel perched on his knees. He got up only after Steve parked the car, keeping his fingers in Mabel’s fur for fear that she might try and dive under the moving vehicle; some days she seemed crazy enough to want to do something like that. He wondered vaguely if cats were capable of thinking long term, or if they simply went about life taking things minute by minute.

Steve got out of the car as Mabel bounded down the stairs to greet him. He bent down and scooped her up, hugging her tight until she wiggled in his arms and tried to get free.

“You’re so cruel,” Tony chuckled. Mabel looked surly as hell now, although she wasn’t actually trying to jump down from Steve’s arms. She made herself comfortable, resting her chin on Steve’s shoulder and let out a loud, irritated sigh. Steve set her down.

“There,” Steve said, patting Mabel’s back. “Was that a good hello?”

Mabel snorted and turned her back on Steve. She padded her way up the stairs and disappeared inside with her tail held high.

“Either she’s supremely disappointed, or that was what she was looking for,” Tony said. He joined Steve at the trunk and began hauling out bags, looping the handles around his arms so he could carry more than one bag on each arm. He glanced at the car and saw that Bucky’s face was pressed up against the passenger’s side window; Bucky was out like a light, clearly snoring and there was drool and fog on the window.

“Don’t worry,” Steve grunted, hoisting up a bag of frozen goods. “I took pictures. You can stare at him later. Let’s get this stuff in the freezer before it melts.”

They moved quickly, slipping inside to dump the grocery bags on the floor. Tony brought in their leftovers from the restaurant and stuffed them unceremoniously into the fridge. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the table, standing beside it with his gaze locked on Steve as Steve went through the grocery bags to find all of their frozen goodies. He smirked to himself and wiggled his fingers. Steve’s ass looked mighty fine, and he couldn’t wait to get him naked.

“Don’t even think about it,” Steve grumbled.

Tony scowled and slumped against the table.

“Do me a favor – go bring Bucky in. We need to get him tucked in before we head out,” Steve said. He cocked his head and peered at Tony, licking his plump pink lips. “Think you can handle that?”

Tony practically ran for the front door. He jumped down the steps, his eyes glued to the car, and dove for the passenger’s side door, swearing up a storm at the way his pants were chafing his cock. Bucky was still slumped against the door, still dozing peacefully, unaware that anything was happening. Tony eased the door open a crack with a grimace, and hoisted Bucky up, making sure he didn’t fall out when the door was completely open. He shifted his weight, letting Bucky lean his full weight against him.

Bucky’s eyelids fluttered. He groaned slightly and turned, pressing his face into Tony’s throat. He grumbled in his sleep when his cheek brushed against Tony’s beard and wrapped his arms around Tony’s shoulder, his grip surprisingly tight.

Tony adjusted his stance and managed to get Bucky on his feet. It took a lot longer to get him up the stairs than expected, and by the time he got Bucky to the guest bedroom, Steve had vanished into the bathroom.

Tony pulled Bucky’s shoes and socks off, setting everything in a pile beside the wall. He hesitated before turning his attention to Bucky’s clothes. He knew just how uncomfortable it was to sleep dressed in dirty clothing, but how far did he need to strip Bucky down? He set Bucky’s hat down on the dresser beside the bed and unzipped Bucky’s coat, rolling him onto his side so he could wrestle the filthy thing out from under him. He tossed the jacket onto the pile against the wall, making a mental note to do laundry as soon as possible. He looked Bucky over. No, it was no use. He couldn’t leave Bucky in his jeans or his t-shirt; both looked absolutely filthy. With a sigh, he tugged the button holding Bucky’s jeans closed and gently eased him out of them, wrinkling his nose at the smell of stale sweat and body odor. Clearly, Bucky hadn’t picked clean clothing when he had fled the tower – he had probably just picked up something he had found on the floor and pulled it on. Tony tossed the jeans away, purposely not looking at Bucky’s dark cotton briefs. Bucky’s legs were another matter entirely; they were pale and covered with old bruises. His hips were sharp, and there were the pale, scarred remains of scratches on them, likely done by something sharp. Tony wondered if Bucky had done that himself, or if someone had done it for him. He moved on, not wanting to invade Bucky’s privacy any more than he had to, and slowly stripped Bucky out of his sweaty shirt. There were more scars on Bucky’s chest. He hoped the marks were from past fights.

“Is he settling in alright?” Steve asked, hovering in the doorway.

“He seems to be,” Tony said, pulling the blankets up over Bucky’s body. He smoothed Bucky’s sweaty hair down, wishing he could brush it out so it wouldn’t be so tangled, and stepped back so Steve could get a look at his handiwork.

Steve’s smile was weary. “He looks like he’s been to hell and back,” he said.

“He probably has,” Tony said, shaking his head sadly. He pulled another blanket out from the pile he had left beside the bed and began layering the blankets around Bucky’s body, building him a nest. It would be better for the guy to wake up with something soft around him; Bucky was probably used to sharp, hard things, and this at least wouldn’t be so jarring to wake up in. When he was satisfied, he turned back to Steve and slipped quietly out of the room. Mabel darted between his legs and jumped up on Bucky’s bed, doing a slow circle beside Bucky’s head. She laid down and began licking her fur.

“Do you think it’s safe to leave her with him?” Tony asked, suddenly nervous. There was no telling what Bucky might do if he was startled. Breakfast had taught him that much.

“I don’t think he’ll lash out when he wakes up, if that’s what you’re asking,” Steve said. “Every time he had a sleepwalking bout when he was younger, he used to wake up cuddly and smiling. Hopefully, he’ll be like that this time too.”

“And if not, we’ve got Jarvis to talk him out of it,” Tony hummed softly.

“That’s very true,” Steve said. He turned the light off in Bucky’s room. “There. He’ll probably be out for a few hours at the very least. He sleeps like a rock.”

“I know,” Tony chuckled. “He’s been in our bed at least ten times by now.”

“So he has,” Steve said, reaching for Tony’s hand. He walked them to the front door and pulled out his keys. “Let’s get going.”

Tony grinned wolfishly. He gave Steve a tender kiss and pulled away, leaving Steve grumbling, but smiling.

They walked across the beach holding hands the entire way. Tony’s gaze was locked on Steve as they made their way across the sand; it was impossible to look away from him. Steve’s eyes were making him all kinds of hot and bothered, and the walk couldn’t go by fast enough. Tony opened the front door, the key turning like butter in the lock and let them into Steve’s Beach House.

Steve’s Beach House wasn’t luxurious, or modern like Tony’s; Steve had requested that as much of the original décor be retained, aside, of course, from the horrible wallpaper. Tony hadn’t been in here since he had done a last walkthrough after it had been completed. He let out a low whistle. The place wasn’t as spotless as he had imagined it would be. There was a blanket hanging off of a chair at the kitchen table and a pile of laundry left lying on the couch.

“I take it you did a little decorating when you were here last,” Tony drawled.

“Not really,” Steve said. He kicked off his shoes and knelt down by Tony’s feet, his fingers making short work of the laces.

Tony grinned. “That eager, are we?”

“You aren’t?” Steve asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Tony kicked his shoes clean across the room. “I never said that,” he said. He pulled at his shirt and pants, nearly tearing them off in his haste. His briefs were damp at the front; they felt like a prison, trapping his swollen cock. He yanked them down, balled them up and pitched them across the room, hitting the kitchen sink. He had been waiting for this moment for a long time – he wanted this to be good for Steve – he needed it to be. Steve deserved that.

Steve began shucking his clothing; he yanked the shirt up and over his head, and tried to get his pants open with his free hand at the same time. It was an impossible task. He let out a shrill laugh as Tony caught him, keeping him from knocking himself on his ass. “I guess I’m not as suave as I thought,” Steve said.

“You’re plenty suave,” Tony said, helping Steve pull his shirt off. He threw the shirt across the room to join his shoes and slid his hands down the sides of Steve’s pants, reveling in the way Steve’s skin felt against him. “You got me out of my clothes already. I’d say that’s pretty damn suave.”

Steve moaned as Tony squeezed his thighs. “Tony. Oh god – please.”

“Please what, darling?” Tony purred, slowly slipping Steve’s pants down an inch at a time. “Pretty please?”

“Please fuck me,” Steve growled. “I want you in me.”

Tony pulled Steve’s pants down in one clean move. He gave Steve’s underwear a soft caress, enjoying the feel of the fabric, before sliding his hands down inside them, cupping Steve’s cock and balls. “I think I can do that,” Tony mused.

“Really?” Steve said. “Where’s the lube?”

Tony froze. “Uh… I don’t actually… I didn’t bring any.”

Steve smirked. He kissed Tony, his mouth hot and sweet, before pulling away to grab his jacket. He pulled a bottle of lube out of his pocket and held it out, an offering. “I guess it’s a good thing I brought this then, huh?”

Tony grinned, all teeth. “You bet your sweet ass it is,” he said. He wrapped his arms around Steve’s middle and threw him over his shoulder. “Where do you want to do this?”

“Bed,” Steve said, giving Tony’s ass a slap. “Move it, Stark. We don’t have all day.”

“Roger that, Rogers,” Tony cackled. He paused only to throw open the door to Steve’s bedroom and turn on the light.

Steve’s bedroom was sparsely furnished, everything practical and clean. The duvet and comforters were folded neatly on the floor beside the bed, leaving only pillows and sheets. There was a box of condoms sitting on the dresser, and a box of wetwipes on the floor under the bed. Someone had been a busy little bee.

“I see you were planning ahead,” Tony said. He set Steve on the bed, crawling up after him and found himself flipped over. Steve straddled his hips. He didn’t mind all that much – in fact, it made things a whole lot easier to grab Steve’s ass.

Steve’s hair hung in feathery strands in front of his face. He kissed Tony, grinding himself down on Tony’s cock; he shifted his hips, letting their bodies rub together again, his eyes closing as Tony’s cock slid between his legs.

“Steve,” Tony murmured, threading his fingers through Steve’s hair. “You feel so good.”

Steve handed Tony the bottle of lube, his hands shaking, and sank his teeth into Tony’s shoulder. “It can get better.”

Tony groaned so loudly, he was fairly certain people had heard him all the way across the beach. He opened the lube, spilling it onto his fingers and scooted Steve forwards so he could get easier access to his ass. He kneaded Steve’s thighs for a moment, his body burning with need as Steve let out whimpered moan after whimpered moan at his touch.

“Tony,” Steve said, his ass in the air, his knees bracketing Tony’s hips. “Tony.”

“I’ve got you, honey,” Tony said. He moved slowly, drawing a line along Steve’s soft thighs with his thumb. He pushed a finger inside Steve, mindful of Steve’s every move, his every twitch, his every breath; he was surprised to find almost no resistance.

Steve sighed, pressing back against Tony’s finger. “Please,” he rasped. “Please. Please, you feel so good.”

“Were you naughty?” Tony asked, amused. “Did you play with yourself in the bathroom? I think you did.”

Steve pressed sloppy kisses to Tony’s shoulder, pushing back against Tony as Tony slid a second finger inside of him. “Maybe,” Steve grunted. “I wanted this to be good for you. I didn’t want to wait.”

Tony’s hand stilled. “Honey, it’ll be good no matter what,” he said, cupping Steve’s cheek with his free hand. “I’m with you. This is everything I could ever want.”

“Yeah?” Steve said, lifting his head. His eyes were wide, as though the words had startled him; maybe they had.

“I love you,” Tony said, twisting his fingers.

Steve’s back arched. He gasped and pushed back against Tony’s fingers.

“I love you so damn much,” Tony said, sliding his fingers out a little. He didn’t need any more lube, but the feeling of his fingers being in such warmth was making it hard to control himself.

“I love you too,” Steve said. “I’d love you more if you hurried up.”

“I can’t reach the condoms from here, sweetheart,” Tony said, fucking his fingers back into Steve’s ass. He added a third finger, watching Steve’s face for discomfort, pleased when he saw nothing but pleasure.

“We don’t need them,” Steve said, his eyes snapping open. The look of determination on his face was something Tony hadn’t ever associated with the bedroom before. He was going to have a very hard time taking that look seriously when they were in the field now.

“We’re both clean,” Steve said.

“You’re ok with this being messy?” Tony asked, giving Steve’s cock a playful tug.

Steve’s eyelids fluttered. He pushed back onto Tony’s fingers, forcing them deeper inside of him. “I’m very ok with this being messy.”

“Alright then,” Tony said. He squirted more lube into his hand and slathered it over his cock, letting it drip all over to make sure he had every last inch covered and slick. He pulled his fingers out slowly and found his hands pushed away from his own cock.

“Can I?” Steve asked, his voice soft as a mouse.

“Sure,” Tony said. “Whatever you want.”

Steve lifted himself up, reaching around him to angle Tony’s cock just right so it would slip inside with ease. His eyelids fluttered as he was filled up; his fingers curled around Tony’s shoulders, his nails digging in ever-so-slightly to Tony’s skin.

“Is this good?” Tony wheezed, his voice almost stolen from him. The feeling of Steve all around him, the tightness and warmth, was almost overwhelming.

“It’s good,” Steve slurred. He pushed down on Tony’s cock again, driving it deeper inside him, until his ass was flush with Tony’s balls. “Oh god. Oh god this is so good.”

“Worth the wait?” Tony asked, pressing a kiss to the tip of Steve’s nose.

“So worth the wait,” Steve said. “I’d wait forever if it meant being here with you.” He shifted his weight, grinding down again and began to lift himself up.

“You’d wait forever?” Tony said, his voice strained.

Steve grinned down at Tony. “Sure,” he said. “You’re worth it.”

“That’s what I was going to say,” Tony said. “You’re so beautiful – you look so sweet. I love this – I love you.”

“Tell you what,” Steve said, clearing his throat. His eyes crossed; he let out a low whimper and clenched around Tony’s cock, making Tony shiver beneath him. “I’ll be nice. You can drive stick – I’ll handle the rest.”

“Whatever you want,” Tony said. He wrapped his slick fingers around Steve’s cock and began to pump slowly, feeling the way Steve’s cock twitched in his hand. He liked how hot Steve felt beneath him; he loved the way Steve’s eyes were closed, head thrown back as Steve moved up and down on his cock. He hadn’t watched someone he was having sex with like this before – not this closely – but it was hard to keep his eyes off of Steve. There was something so striking about him and the way the light hit his hair made him look like he was some kind of fallen angel. Steve might not be able to see how perfect he looked, but Tony damn well could. He memorized everything, savoring Steve’s every sound, his every expression.

It was over faster than Tony would have liked; he paid more attention to Steve’s orgasm than his own, his fingers gently rubbing against Steve’s cock until he was finally, blessedly spent. He grabbed for the wet wipes, cleaning them both up, and curled on his side with Steve cuddled against him, contented and relaxed. It felt right to have Steve snuggled against him; it felt right to be here, wrapped in each other’s arms. He let out a yawn, and kissed Steve’s sweaty forehead.

Steve let out a mumbled word that sounded vaguely like Tony’s name and went back to dozing.

Tony woke to the creak of bedsprings. He rolled over, pawing lazily at the bed for Steve, but found him gone. He let out a low whine and curled up back under the blankets, leeching the remaining warmth.

Steve returned a few minutes later, still naked. “Are you coming?”

“Where?” Tony asked, suspicious.

“We should shower and get back,” Steve said. He leaned against the doorframe, the light behind him trickling in around his body, making him glow like he was painted with gold. “Jarvis says Bucky’s awake.”

Tony sighed and sat up, letting the blankets fall behind him. “Well, so much for our sexy naptime,” he grumbled, standing up.

Steve chuckled, cocking his hip. “I don’t know about that,” he said. “There’s still time for a shower if you get moving. That can be pretty sexy too.”

Tony waggled his eyebrows. “I like how you think, Rogers,” he said. He followed Steve into the bathroom and closed the door behind them.

The walk back across the beach was slow and leisurely; Tony kept his eyes on Steve’s, and their fingers entwined. They made their way up the front steps, grinning, and found the door unlocked. Steve opened the door, pulling Tony inside behind him.

Bucky was sitting at the kitchen table with Mabel squatting on his shoulder. There was a serving platter piled high with chunks of chicken, alfredo sauce and noodles on the table, and there were plates set out in front of all three seats. He looked far better than he had earlier on in the day, although the bags under his eyes were still clinging to life.

“I see you’re back,” Bucky said. He gave Mabel’s head a scratch and yawned into his arm.

“You made dinner?” Tony asked. He hadn’t realized that they had been gone for so long. He was surprised that Jarvis hadn’t woken them up earlier.

“I figured it was the least I could do, all things considered,” Bucky said with a shrug.

“We’re just glad we could all get some well-deserved rest,” Steve said, sitting down in the chair at Bucky’s left.

“Rest?” Bucky snorted in amusement. “Yeah – sure. I bet your trip was real restful.”

Steve smirked. “That’s all you need to know about it.”

“Right,” Bucky said. He pushed a pair of tongs towards Steve. “Dig in. It’s still hot.”

“So I see,” Tony said, sitting in the chair to Bucky’s right. Dinner smelled mighty good. He waited while Steve doled out the food, gladly accepting a full plate, and dug in. “This is pretty good. Did you make the sauce yourself?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, nibbling at a forkful of noodles. “Your AI helped me find a recipe. It wasn’t all that hard.”

“I guess we know who’s cooking dinner every night, huh?” Tony said, flashing Bucky a cheeky grin.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like you want me around every night,” he grumbled, staring down into his plate. He prodded at a piece of chicken. “Did you find my keys at Steve’s place there by any chance?”

Tony shrugged. He licked alfredo sauce off of his thumb, trying not to look as if he was watching Steve for cues. “We looked,” he said after Steve nodded at him. “Couldn’t find them anywhere. I guess we’ll have to keep looking.”

Steve smiled softly. “We’ll probably find them eventually. They can’t be far.”

“You guys don’t have to lie, you know,” Bucky sighed. He set his fork down and pushed his food away. “Look – I get it. You’re trying to be nice, but I don’t want to be the guy who gets between you two every damn time you try and get together.”

“Bucky,” Steve sighed, setting down his fork.

“No – don’t Bucky me. I know what’s going on. I’m not fucking blind, Steve – I can see you’re trying to be sweet about it and all,” Bucky grunted. “But I didn’t come to butt in and ruin your alone time. Give me my fucking keys and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“We’re not kicking you out,” Tony said. He speared a piece of chicken and took a bite. It really was too damned good for its own good. He could see himself eating the entire platter on his own. “Seriously. We don’t mind having you around.”

“Don’t lie,” Bucky growled, his eyes glinting.

“I’m not,” Tony said. He scowled at Bucky. “Yeah, you get under our feet sometimes, but that’s kind of bound to happen when there are two horny lovebirds around.” He winked at Steve, trying not to laugh when Steve put his face in his hands.

Bucky’s face flushed. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” he muttered.

“It’s fine, Bucky. We don’t mind you being around – just don’t crawl into bed with us unless we ask you to, ok?” Tony said.

Bucky’s face went an even deeper shade of red; Steve’s face went red too.

“Is now really the time to talk about that?” Steve grumbled.

“I have no idea what’s going on here,” Bucky grumbled, rubbing his nose. He looked away, gnawing on his lower lip.

Tony chuckled at the sight. “We’ll fill you in one day,” he promised. He ate another bite of chicken and let out a satisfied sigh, one that made Steve’s eyes widen. “This really is good. Did you always know how to cook, or is this something new?”

“I think I did,” Bucky said, staring down into his plate. His brow furrowed. “I don’t remember a lot of what happened back then, but I remember cooking.”

“What do you remember?” Steve asked, his voice soft and hesitant. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

Bucky hummed softly. He ran his fingers through Mabel’s hair and let her lick at the chunk of chicken still stuck on the tines of his fork. “I get flashes of stuff sometimes – bits of things from when we were younger,” he said. “Sometimes the flashes are bigger than others. It started a while back.”

“I’m guessing those flashes happened more after the wedding, right?” Tony said through a mouthful of food.

Bucky nodded sharply. He shifted in his chair, his movements jerky as if he couldn’t quite control his body. He settled against the table and let out a slow breath. “I remember Rumlow,” he said, his voice so soft Tony could barely hear it. “I wish I didn’t.”

“Rumlow needs to be flung into the sun,” Tony growled. If SHIELD let him, he would build the machine to do that himself.

“The Red Room had me at first – before Hydra. They made me what I am, but they didn’t last – they couldn’t,” Bucky murmured. “I get flashes of their training rooms.”

Tony frowned. He had known about the Red Room’s involvement with Bucky’s life, but he hadn’t realized that Bucky hadn’t left it of his own free will. “I thought Hydra hired you back then,” he said, slowly.

“They didn’t need to hire me. I didn’t get paid,” Bucky said. He let out a harsh bark of a laugh. “When the Red Room went down, everything was sold off piecemeal. Their assets were expendable.”

Tony shuddered. Asset. That was what Rumlow had called Bucky. So it was true – Bucky had been an Asset after all.

“They sold me off,” Bucky said. He rested his chin on his clasped hands, his elbows propped up on the table. “I was a real steal, from what I remember. The jerks who sold me got a few hundred grand for me and my tube.”

“Your tube?” Steve said, frowning.

“They called it a Cryo-tube,” Bucky said. “I don’t know what the technical term was – or if it even had one. They didn’t tell me shit, but I caught phrases sometimes – most of it I can’t remember anymore, but I know what it looked like – what it felt like to be stuck in that fucking thing.” He gritted his teeth. “I remember more about Hydra than the Red Room. The guy who ran the joint for Hydra was a real smooth talker. He had all his little flunkies running around, eating out of the palm of his hand no matter how much bullshit he was feeding them. I see his face every time I fall asleep. He’s the one who sent me out most of the time. I wish I knew his name so I could hunt him down and put a bullet in his fucking head.”

“Do you think you could recognize him if we found pictures?” Steve asked, leaning forwards.

“I don’t know,” Bucky sighed. “I’d like to think I could. He was just a guy with blonde hair and blue eyes, you know – and I was just an Asset. I did what I was told.”

“They must have had something strong to keep you under their power,” Tony said. He set his fork down with reluctance.

Bucky smiled thinly. “I remember the Chair,” he said. A shiver wracked his body; he cracked his neck and let his hands drop to his lap. “They used to make me sit in it when I started thinking for myself too much – when I started misbehaving, they called it.” He rolled his shoulders in a slow circle, biting his teeth into his lip until it was bloody. He flinched when Steve touched him and touched his lip, staring at the blood on his fingers with a frown as though unsure how it had gotten there. “The Chair made everything go away. I don’t remember where they got it – if it was from the Red Room or not,” Bucky said. He let out a frustrated hiss and slammed his flesh-and-blood fist into the table, making the plates dance. “I just remember that I would do anything – fucking anything – to get away from it. Even the cold wasn’t so bad – even that fucking tube wasn’t bad compared to that Chair. Every mission I saw it at least once – or at least that’s what Rumlow used to say. He used to be around a lot – he makes my skin crawl, and I don’t know why.”

“Do you remember seeing him around when you were deployed the last time?” Tony asked, drumming his fingers on his chin. He knew that Natasha and the others had asked Bucky that question a hundred different ways when they were interrogating him so many months ago, but there was always a chance that something new might have popped up now that some time had passed. Bucky had said he was remembering things; this might be one of them. If they could tie Rumlow to the Skull’s plans, they might be able to break him and get more information out of him.

Bucky shuddered and stood up, kicking his chair away. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” he said.

Tony jumped up, moving around the table to grab Bucky by the wrist before he could dart way.

Bucky’s eyes looked haunted. The blood on his lips was red, too red, against his pale skin; he looked as if he had seen a monster, and Tony supposed that he had.

Shit.

He shouldn’t have pushed Bucky so hard so soon – he should have waited, and let Bucky tell them on his own. Goddamn it!

Bucky let out a shaky breath. “You shouldn’t touch me like that,” he said, his voice raw and broken. “I could hurt you like last time. He might come back – the Winter Soldier might come back.”

“If he comes back we’ll deal with him,” Steve promised. “You won’t hurt Tony. I won’t let you.”

“You wouldn’t have a choice,” Bucky hissed. “Christ – why am I even here? This was a bad idea – I shouldn’t be around you two. I’m a monster.”

“You’re not a monster,” Tony said. “It wasn’t your fault – they made you do that stuff. You didn’t choose to do it, Bucky. The Winter Soldier isn’t you.”

“But what if he is?” Bucky whispered.

“If he is, we’ll deal with it together just like Steve said,” Tony said, softly. He rubbed his thumb over Bucky’s wrist, trying to sooth him; he could feel Bucky quaking under his touch, and he wished he could make Rumlow suffer for it.

“I hate that chair,” Bucky wheezed. He hung his head. “I want it gone – I want to crush it with my own hands.”

“We can make that happen one day,” Steve said, standing up. He settled his hand gently on Bucky’s shoulder and began rubbing slow, soft, circles. “It’s ok, Buck. It’s ok.”

Bucky let out a harsh sob and dropped to his knees. Tony and Steve kneeled down beside him.

“I see Rumlow’s face in the dark sometimes, you know?” Bucky said. “He won’t go away – he won’t. Him and that fucking chair, they always come back.”

“Rumlow’s locked up, Buck,” Steve said, his voice calm. “He’s not going anywhere. He can’t hurt you anymore. I’ll kill him if he so much as blinks funny at you.”

Bucky pulled his hand free from Tony’s grasp. “I know– I just – I keep seeing that fucking smirk. I keep getting flashes of the shit he did to me. I can feel him sometimes when I’m awake, and it’s driving me up the wall. I keep smelling that puke cologne he wears on my clothes and in my hair and I can’t get it off. Sometimes it feels like he’s got his hands on my fucking back again – on the back of my neck – on my – my – Christ – why am I telling you this shit?” he laughed bitterly. “Why do I have to remember him and not the good stuff – why him and that fucking prick who gave us orders?”

Tony wrapped his arms around Bucky’s shoulder and reeled him in; Steve mirrored the move, hugging Bucky from there other side until Bucky was wrapped in their arms. Bucky shuddered, leaning against them.

“I don’t want to remember this stuff,” Bucky murmured. “Can’t you make it go away? I changed my mind – put me back in the Chair. I want this gone – I want him gone. I want them both gone.”

Tony’s heart felt like it was being crushed. He squeezed Bucky a little tighter, knowing that there was nothing he could do but listen.

They helped Bucky up onto the couch and wrapped him a blanket, flanking him on either side. Huddled together, they spent the night curled up with Mabel making the rounds around their shoulders and laps, watching cartoons with the volume turned down low. Bucky’s sobs evened out eventually; he slumped against Steve, his chin resting on his shoulder, and fell into a light doze. Tony hoped his dreams were better this time – that they were free of Rumlow’s taint. He eyed Steve over Bucky’s shoulder. They couldn’t let Bucky head off anywhere in this state; it wouldn’t be safe. Steve stroked Bucky’s hair in slow, even strokes.

“You can give me my keys back,” Bucky croaked when he woke, opening one bloodshot eye.

“I have absolutely no idea where they are,” Tony said, leaning against Bucky’s shoulder. “Maybe I’ll find them in a few days – maybe not. Shit happens. I might have left them at the Tower or something.”

Bucky sniffled faintly. “I’m not your problem,” he said, looking down at his hands.

“You’re not a problem at all,” Tony said, pulling the blankets tighter.

Bucky sniffled and closed his eye. “You’re going to regret this,” he murmured.

“No we won’t,” Steve said. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Bucky’s head. “I promise, we won’t.”

Bucky leaned into the touch. “Are you sure?”

“We’re definitely sure,” Tony said, flattening down Bucky’s hair. He closed his eyes and leaned back into the couch, already planning how to take the rest of Hydra down as painfully as possible. They would pay for what they had done – he was going to make them suffer, and he knew Steve would do the same. Rumlow was going to get his; it was only a matter of time now. That bastard wasn’t going to find any friends in SHIELD – not after this. He turned his head, pressed a kiss to Bucky’s hair. He fell asleep watching Steve smile at him.