Chapter Text
"It's Captain America!"
Steve Rogers, walking downtown to get to a meeting, phone in hand, doesn't even notice the interviewer at first.
"No, I'm on the way, Tony. Don't ask me, why would I know? ...Okay, valid point-"
"Captain Rogers, sir?"
"I'll call you back."
He put the phone away and glanced up at the interviewer.
"Yes?"
"Hi! I'm Marina Vega with the Ander Star News, and I'd like to ask you a few questions that people are dying to know. Do you have a few minutes?"
"Um, not really. Maybe I could answer a couple?"
Marina's face brightened as she nodded. "Of course! First one, how are you with recent technology?"
"Not nearly as bad as people expect me to be, that's for sure. But that's not to say I'm very good at it, though."
She nodded. "And, second question! Are you in a relationship?"
Steve broke the serious look he had, and smiled brightly. "Yes."
She smiled as she wrote something down.
"Well, thank you! I hope we can have a longer interview when you aren't so busy."
"Maybe."
Steve got home a few hours later. He sat on his couch while watching TV, when Sam and Natasha walked in, Bucky a bit behind them.
"Warning," Sam said immediately. "He's pissed."
"Why?"
"Stupid ass interviewers."
"I thought you guys only went out for lunch."
"Nope. Well, yeah. Then we went to the mall and the Smithsonian. Got a bit swarmed by interviewers and cameras on the way out."
"...Oh boy."
Oh boy was right. Bucky came in a few seconds later, slamming the door behind him and placed a bag on the counter before plopping down on the couch next to Steve, grabbing his hand.
That was a normal sort of thing. After things finally calmed down enough where he could try to settle down, he got hit with memories, flashbacks, almost all or all files on him being released, and nightmares, he clung to Steve.
"So, how bad was it?" Steve asked.
Bucky didn't answer, just nodded at Natasha to start talking.
"Right, so, within minutes, people could figure out that he's Bucky Barnes. All the cameras on him out of nowhere was bad enough, but they just wouldn't. Shut. Up."
"She's saying it nicely," Sam said. "They kept bringing up Hydra repeatedly. Wouldn't shut the fuck up about those files, which they apparently read. He wouldn't say anything to any of them."
"He hasn't talked to either one of us since then. Or anyone, for that matter. So we went to the mall for a couple hours but still, nothing."
"Give him time on this," Steve replied, squeezing Bucky's hand tighter. Bucky gave him a small smile in response.
He saw Natasha and Sam give each other a look, but neither one said anything.
After one reporter got confirmation that Steve really was in New York, the people continued to try to talk to him for the next two days. Bucky too, since the two were almost always together.
Sure enough, like Steve said, things were much better after Sam and Natasha gave Bucky some time.
That is, until the duo went to the airport to pick up Tony and Peter.
"Hey, Steve!" Tony exclaimed in surprise upon seeing him and Bucky there. Peter smiled and waved over at them.
Considering the fact that all but Peter was famous, they quickly attracted a crowd.
Which in of itself wasn't bad because this crowd was calm, the only bad part was that Bucky clearly recognized someone. He had started talking with Peter a bit before his smiled dropped and he grabbed Steve's sleeve.
When that didn't work, he nudged him, hard.
"Ow! What was that for?"
He opened his mouth to respond, looking up toward them slightly before cursing and tensing up. Steve looked up and followed his gaze. He stared at the man for a few seconds, confused, before looking back to Bucky.
"Do you know him?"
He nodded.
Then he took a better look at how his boyfriend reacted.
"Wait. Hydra?"
Bucky nodded again. Peter looked up, only having heard the last part but seeing that something went wrong, he thought for a second before he starting pushing the group toward a nearby car.
"Quicker, quicker. Did he see you?"
"Yes."
Steve cursed loudly. "Well, fuck. Faster, faster."
One of the people in the crowd walked over and tried to speak.
"Mr. Rogers, is everything okay?"
Before he could answer, the once quiet crowd started asking questions.
"Leave my boyfriend and I alone and let us get the fuck out of here!"
The crowd only got worse.