Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Alright folks here’s the sitch

Canon is my bitch, merely a canvas upon which I paint, the clay from which I mold my silly little fics. That said this story begins at the end of The Winter Soldier, in an alternate version of the scene aboard the helicarriers.

I have absolutely no interest in portraying Rumlow accurately; he is a fandom Token Asshole Villain and therefore useful. He’s barely gonna be in this and when he is he just sucks.

The scene will be shown from the reader’s perspective, but even so it’s not following the exact events of the scene in the actual movie that closely. Call it the butterfly effect of reader existing idgaf.

I am recovering from a NASTY concussion so uh my brain power isn’t 100% keep that in mind

I try to avoid using y/n but for this fic is necessary. I could also give reader a name if enough people actually read this get into it and ask me to.

As it goes on there will be more nicknames and petnames used, but for the earlier bits especially y/n will be coming up.

I also try to make reader as inclusive as possible but this is first and foremost self indulgence, so…

y/n is gender neutral, I’m non-binary, but reader may still come across more femme because I am more femme 

OKAY UPDATE READER IS HEAVILY IMPLIED TO BE TRANS/GENDERQUEER

If I do smut (which is likely) reader may become AFAB idk like I said SELF INDULGENCE 

I try to limit physical descriptors but Bucky and Steve ARE taller than you, idgaf how tall you are. They can also lift you regardless of your weight, that's just super serum for you.

Also there will be running hands through hair and the such because again, I am my own target audience.

Although not directly stated, reader is kinda implied to be autistic because I am, so you know. My personal brand of autism leaks through. Because of that it will be discussing sensory issues regarding food (bordering on ARFID) so potential TW for that 

IDK dude I’m just here for fun and vibes, also fair warning although Bucky Barnes is my husband Steve is moreso my husband's boyfriend. Like I only read Steve fics if it’s Stucky. Reader loves them equally though. Perhaps through this I will develop a greater appreciation for Steve “chihuahua syndrome” Rogers. 

I make no promises as to the frequency of updates. But I do make one promise:Even if it gets angsty I am too sensitive to let such things go on for long. Everything will be okay.

Chapter Text

You wake to the sound of voices in your room and your father looking down at you. Something pricks your arm, and everything goes dark again.

This time waking up is much slower. You can feel somebody shaking you, but stirring takes far more effort than usual.

Somebody strikes you in the stomach. That does the trick.

You sit up with a gasp of pain, your senses dulled but clearing slowly. You’re on a helicarrier, surrounded by a couple of HYDRA agents, including your father. At least your pajamas aren't too skimpy.

Before you have time to process anything, your father grabs you by the arm and drags you out onto the tarmac, not even saying a word to you. He looks angry, but also smug, which is a terrifying combination.

You stumble as your father brings you to a halt, your eyes still adjusting to the light. You look up, blinking, and your brain short-circuits for a moment. Standing a few feet away, glancing between you and your father with his jaw set, is one of your soulmates. The living one. He's gorgeous, with short blond hair mussed up from the wind, blue eyes that are currently pretty pissed looking, and a face that makes your heart skip a beat.

He also just so happens to be Captain America, your father’s enemy. This… might get messy. Having Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes’ names on your arm means that you know what they look like -or looked like, in Bucky’s case. but you? You’re not a famous historical figure. Steve doesn’t have any way of knowing who you are by appearance alone.

Your father proceeds to solve this problem. How kind of him.

“Not so fast, Captain. Tell me, did my last name ever sound familiar to you?” 

Steve’s eyes widen, fixing on you. "Who is this?” he asks, though by the look on his face you're sure he's figured it out.

Your father smirks, the cruelty you’ve so often glimpsed on full display. “This is my only offspring. Y/n Rumlow.” He unholsters his gun, resting it against your skull. “Call off your lackeys, Rogers. I will shoot.”

You wish you could say you’re surprised. Brock Rumlow isn’t the worst father, but he’s definitely not a good one. He raised you to serve HYDRA, which in your case meant being a scientist. You had enough access to the internet to have figured out HYDRA is evil, but you also have enough experience to know your father does not love you. He cares enough to only assign you to defensive projects, knowing that you’re more likely to resist if forced to make weapons, but if you do resist? He won’t stop you from being punished or killed.

It only makes sense that he’d sacrifice you to take down HYDRA’s number one opp, your soulmarks are the greatest asset you have in his mind. Still, it fucking hurts.

Steve’s jaw tenses further. He looks furious. “Don’t test me, Rumlow. I won’t let you hurt them. Now tell me:Where the hell is Bucky.”

What a weird question. Last you checked Bucky was super dead. But then again, the world used to think Steve was dead too.

Your father’s smirk widens. “Oh, you mean the Soldat? Don’t worry about him.”

The Soldat? The Winter Soldier? Bucky is the Soldat? He’s alive? Is that why they kept you away from the Winter Soldier program?

Steve’s eyes darken even further, and he’s about to speak again when everything goes to shit.

You’re still a little too loopy and a lot too overwhelmed to really understand what’s happening, but it definitely involves explosions and the helicarrier veering heavily off course. A surge of adrenaline hits your muddied system, and you take advantage of the distraction to pull away from your father’s grip, elbowing him hard in the gut and twisting his arm hard enough he drops his gun. You run without even looking where you’re going, darting behind a chunk of debris. Your eyes dart around wildly, but all you can see is smoke, fire, and three helicarriers getting dangerously close to one another. Fuck.

You quickly determine your best chance at survival is to get the hell away from your father and onto the lowest helicarrier, then try and jump into the water. Unfortunately you’re currently on the highest helicarrier, because the universe hates you personally. 

You curse under your breath as you make your way to the edge, finding a place where the jump is minimal. Six feet, maybe. You can handle that. Bracing yourself, you leap off the edge. You don’t exactly stick the landing, pain shooting through your ribs, but nothing seems broken so you get up and keep moving. 

Crash!

Your head snaps towards the sound, finding it was caused by Steve getting bodyslammed onto the platform by a man who you can only assume is the Winter Soldier. Bucky. Damn, he’s hot. And clearly not himself right now. Something in your heart is screaming that you need to help Steve, need to help both of them, but the logical part of you knows you’d be of no help, especially right now. You just need to get to safety and trust that Steve knows what he’s doing.

You tear your eyes away and keep running, ignoring the sounds of yelling and fighting in the background. You make it to the edge of the platform overlooking the lower part of the helicarrier, but this time the drop is a lot less manageavle. You back away to find a different way down, but as you do a hunk of twisted metal from above comes crashing down. It just barely misses you, instead simply smashing the ground and leaving you scrambling for purchase on the fractured concrete. You grab wildly at the metal that nearly killed you, getting just enough of a grip to hold you up as the floor falls away.

You look around for anything to help, eyes landing on where your soulmates are fighting. Bucky has Steve pinned to the ground, metal fist raised to strike. Your heart pounds even faster. Are you about to watch your soulmate kill your other soulmate? Is HYDRA's brainwashing so strong it can make someone do such a thing? Why is Steve talking instead of fighting back?

You can’t quite hear what exactly he's  saying over the blood rushing in your ears, but to your relief and mild surprise, it works. Bucky pauses, lowering his hand, staring down at Steve with faint recognition. Thank fuck. 

Your hands are starting to ache, your grip loosening. Steve sits up slightly, and locks eyes with you. Thank fuck:the sequel.

You can hear him a little better now as he gestures to you.

“Buck, that’s our soulmate. Our y/n, remember? We have to help them.”

Your arms are starting to tremble.

Bucky’s gaze snaps to you, his eyes widening. Without hesitation, he releases Steve and sprints in your direction, 

Your hands give out. You’re falling.

Bucky leaps over the edge, catching you in his arms and turning you mid-air. As the bare skin of his flesh hand brushes the back of your neck, something in your chest explodes with warmth, joy, and a fierce sense of belonging. His arms tighten around you.

He lands on his back, taking the brunt of the fall with you held securely in his arms. Pain jolts through your ribs from your earlier injury. You gasp for breath, struggling to gain your bearings from the fall and the forming of your bond.

A moment later Steve lands beside you, kneeling in a panic.

“y/n, Buck, are you okay?” He looks you over in a panic, cupping your chin and looking into your eyes worriedly. 

Your soul lights up again as your second bond sets in, and you grin up at him, a little delirious.

He shudders slightly from the bonding, smiling down at you. Then the panic returns as he looks to Bucky, putting his other hand on Bucky’s face as he checks him for injuries. This time, it’s not just your soul that reacts. It’s your whole body.

Everything from the top of your head to your toes feels like it’s on fire. Despite the confusion and terror, all you can feel in this moment is ecstasy as the triadic bond sets in. It feels like something inside you has finally clicked into place, and you start to tear up with joy. You’ve spent so long thinking at least one of your soulmates was dead, but now they’re here, even if ‘here’ is a burning airship.

Bucky gasps, his eyes wild and confused. The last traces of the Soldat leave his expression, coldness replaced by an overwhelming number of feelings. “I… I remember…” he mumbles, his grip loosening.

Steve smiles down at the two of you, the worry faded but not gone. As the bond settles, he releases you, albeit reluctantly.

Bucky sits up suddenly, setting you on the ground beside him. He stands, starting to back away, his muscles tense.

The bond, still fresh and burning hot in your chest, tugs at you. You call out in a panic. “N-no! Don’t go, don’t-” you shudder. The idea of being separate so soon after bonding is deeply painful.

He falters.

Steve takes your hand, giving Bucky a pleading look. “Please, Buck. don’t run away. I need you, we both do.”

He pauses.

Something deep in the helicarrier explodes.

Steve pulls you against his chest protectively, steadying you as the floor begins to split apart. The air is filled with smoke, and you can’t see Bucky anymore. You cough.

Steve stands with you in his arms and starts to run, putting a hand to his ear. “Nat, Sam, I’m on the one that just exploded. I need evac, now, my soulmate is with me.”

There’s a pause as somebody responds.

“Not Bucky- well, yes Bucky, but I’ve lost sight of him. It’s our third, we found them and they’re hurt. I need to get them out of here so I can find Bucky.”

“I’m not that hurt” you mumble in protest.

Steve gives you an unimpressed look. “Doll, you’re bleeding from somewhere and struggling to breathe.”

“I'm bleeding?”

He frowns. “You’re pretty banged up. I know you can’t feel it right now but trust me, you need to get out of here.”

You don’t protest further.

A helicopter comes into view, hovering beside you. There’s two people inside, both looking beat up and concerned.

Steve helps you into the back. “Doll, this is Sam and Natasha. They’ll take care of you. Sam, Nat, this is y/n. Get them out of here.”

The pilot, Nat, shakes her head. “You’re coming with us, Rogers. This thing is going down fast.”

“Bucky-”

“Bucky is a Super Soldier, and a highly trained assassin. He’s probably gotten himself out of here already.”

Steve sets his jaw. “I’m not leaving him.”

There’s another explosion in the distance, and you grab Steve’s arm. 

“Get in the helicopter, we’ll look for him from in here. Please?”

He looks like he wants to argue, but thinks better of it and climbs in beside you, sandwiching you between him and Sam.

Sam nods at you in greeting and addresses Steve. “If we don’t see him, we’ll have to assume he got out, fly somewhere safe and tend to our injuries.

At the mention of injuries Steve looks you over again, nodding reluctantly at Sam’s words.

Nat does a quick but thorough flyover of the helicarrier, but there’s no sign of Bucky. Steve’s shoulders tense, and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you against his side. 

“Get us out of here,” he says reluctantly. “Not too far away, somewhere he could find us.”

The helicopter lands a safe distance from the ongoing chaos, and Steve sits you down on the grass to check you over more thoroughly. 

Sam kneels beside you. “You mind if I check your ribs? I was pararescue, I know a thing or two.”

You don’t answer verbally, simply lifting your pajama shirt enough to reveal your ribs. You don’t look yourself, frankly you don’t wanna know.

He presses them lightly, asking questions and ultimately determining that they’re just bruised. The blood is apparently from a scrape on your side, which he cleans and bandages. You’re going to be fine.

Steve is by your side the whole time, listening intently to Sam’s words as he scans the surrounding area for signs of Bucky.

When Sam’s done, he leaves to talk to Nat about something. Steve pulls you lightly against him once more. At this point it’s hard to tell what pain is from your ribs versus Bucky’s absence. Fresh bonds are sensitive, and the longer he doesn’t appear the worse it gets. You bury your face in Steve’s shoulder, sniffling slightly. It aches.

“You know,” says Steve, resting his chin on your head, “me and Buck have been bonded since the 20s. When he shipped off to war, the distance was rough, but it just made me even more determined to join the fight. Then... then I thought I lost him. Ever since he fell off that train, my soul has been missing his like hell. I’ve gotten used to having a constant background of bond withdrawals, but having him close again and then losing him? Especially with our triad complete? It hurts so damn much.”

“D’you think he’s okay?” you ask quietly.

“Bucky’s tougher than nails. I’m sure he got away, but… he’s also just come out of brainwashing. I… I don’t know if he’s going to come find us, or just run.”

You start to cry, overwhelmed and aching all over. Steve pulls you closer, as tight as he can without hurting your ribs.

You sit there for a while, the ache in your chest getting worse and worse. Physical separation is bad enough, but your soulmate trying to run from you… it’s one step shy of rejecting the bond. It’s a searing pain that gets worse as your adrenaline fades. 

Just when it stings so badly you feel like you might pass out, it drops back down a few notches. And then slowly, the pain starts to go away.

You look up.

Bucky is walking towards the two of you, slowly. You can see the slightest hint of tear tracks on his cheeks. He wasn’t spared the pain just because it was him trying to leave.

He stops a foot or so away, and sits down on the grass. He doesn’t say a word, just stares, his shoulders weighed down by exhaustion.

But the pain has stopped. He’s with you. Your soulmates are with you at last. You can figure out the rest later.

Chapter Text

Bucky's brain is a tempest. For so long it's been empty, brief flashes of excruciating pain followed by the detached nothingness of the Soldier, but now it's like a trainwreck inside a hornets' nest. It's loud and painful and he can't look away.

He was silent the entire way to what Steve called "Avengers' Tower." He was silent when they took his y/n to the medbay to be treated. He was silent when Steve argued with a man called Stark because Stark wanted to keep him locked up 'for now.' He was silently when Steve reluctantly brought him to a room and shut him in. He was silent when his Steve got dragged away to talk to someone.

 The room is empty except for a cot. One of the walls is glass, looking out on another room with a table and chairs. A man has come in to sit in one of those chairs. He says his name is Clint, that he's a friend of Steve's, and he just wants to ask a few questions. Bucky nods, but remains silent.

"Alright, let's get right to it. What do you remember."

Bucky doesn't like that question. For starters it's vague, does Clint want him to list everything? Does he want a percentage? Is there a specific memory he's asking about? Maybe it would be easier to answer if Bucky even knew. He remembers a lot, but it's a complete mess in his head and he's not sure how he would know if it was all there or not. He thinks he remembers everything, but he's spent so long remembering nothing that he doesn't know anymore. The thought is unpleasant. Instead of trying to articulate any of this to Clint, he just stares blankly. It's all he can manage, and all he wants to manage.

"Okay, how about something simple. Can you tell me your name?"

That's easy. He knows that now, he remembers his name. Steve reminded him."...Bucky." 

His voice comes out in a low rasp, just loud enough to be heard. His throat is dry. He hadn't noticed that before.

"Your full name, please."

A part of him appreciates having something simple to focus on other than the chaos in his head, but another part of him wants to be left alone. He doesn't know this "Clint" person, doesn't trust him, and doesn't want to talk to him. Still, he figures the easiest way to get rid of him is to answer.

"James Buchanan Barnes."

"Ding ding, 100 points to team Barnes."

Bucky stares. He isn't sure if he understands the joke, and if he does it isn't funny.

"Tough crowd. I can't blame you after the day you've had. Another simple one:Do you remember Steve and y/n."

That's a stupid question, of course he does. He can feel their bond thrumming in his heart, the same bond that kept him from running. He remembers them, and he is going to stay with them. He wishes they were with him right now. Where are they, anyway? He hasn't seen either of them in maybe an hour, how badly hurt was y/n? Who did Steve need to talk to? Was it a trap? Where are they, why aren't they here asking him these questions instead of Clint. Something must be wrong, they must be hurt. Somebody hurt them, maybe somebody is hurting them right now.

He stands abruptly, approaching the glass. "Where are they?"

Clint shrugs. "Your soulmates? They're around here somewhere."

"Where are they, I want to see them."

"I don't know if-"

Bucky slams on the glass with his metal arm, distantly surprised that it doesn't just shatter. "Where. Are. They."

His eyes are wild, his heart racing. He needs to see them, he needs to know if they're okay, he needs them. The storm in his mind is getting stronger, panic is setting in.

"I need to see them."

The painkillers helped. If they hadn't given you the painkillers things would probably be ten times worse right about now. As it is you're bored out of your mind, stressed, and overwhelmed. So much has happened in so little time, and you're gonna need 5-10 business days to process any of it - assuming that you do process it, right now you just want to ignore it. Or cry, but you've cried in front of enough strangers today and frankly you might not have enough water left in your body to cry. Is that how crying works? You're not sure. If you had your phone you could google it, but your phone is still on your bedside back home. You are never going back home.

HYDRA is not a fun place to grow up, and even if your father hadn't gone down with the helicarriers - a fact that you are not thinking about, nope, don't think about it, shut up brain - you wouldn't want to go back. You have your soulmates now, Steve has assured you that you'll be able to stay in the tower and that you don't need to worry about anything because he's gonna take care of it. That was right before he took Bucky off to who knows where and didn't return. 

Sam and Natasha have both checked in on you, which was nice of them, but they ultimately couldn't do much but reassure you that everything was gonna be okay. You tried to believe them, but it didn't really work.

Finally, Steve returns, sitting in the chair beside your bed and smiling at you. He's clearly agitated, but you don't comment on it. It's not exactly a surprise.

"How are you doing?" He asks softly.

"Been better. I'm bored."

He raises an eyebrow. "You're bored? That's your main complaint right now?"

"...yes."

He chuckles. "After the day we've had, you'd think being bored would be a nice reprieve."

"You would think, but you would be wrong. I just want something to focus on that isn't horrific."

He sighs, leaning back in his chair. "It'd be nice, wouldn't it? You know, this should be the best day of my life." He shakes his head with a small laugh. "I mean, I get my soulmate back, meet my other soulmate, complete my triad bond... I should be happy right now."

"Tell me about it. I get to meet my soulmates and get out of HYDRA, and somehow I still end up bored and miserable."

The door opens then, and a man pokes his head in.

"Clint?" asks Steve, looking concerned. 

Clint steps into the room. "His memory seems okay, but I couldn't get through many questions. He's asking for you two."

Bucky.

Steve's concern deepens. "Is he okay?" 

Clint purses his lips. "He's asking for you. I think you should go see him."

You are immediately down for this plan, and you swing your legs over the side of the bed. You're really only in the medbay because everyone is too busy to find somewhere else to put you.

Steve rises to his feet, offering a hand to help you up. You take it, feeling a slight twinge in your ribs as you stand.

Steve leads you through the hallways of the tower and into an elevator that takes you underground. You don't like the thought of Bucky being kept underground, but you hold your tongue because Steve clearly isn't pleased about it either.

He uses a key card to lead you into a room overlooking what is basically a cell. Bucky is pacing, but when he sees you he approaches the glass divider and puts a hand on it, relaxing slightly as he looks you both over.

Steve approaches the glass. "You were asking for us?"

Bucky nods. He glances at the door separating the two rooms, clearly displeased. "You're okay?"

You step up to the glass as well. "We're fine. The doctors said my ribs aren't that bad."

Bucky is placated by this, his shoulders relaxing slightly, but only slightly.

Steve steps over to the door, taking out his key card again. "Can we come in?"

Bucky nods firmly, relaxing further and watching the door expectantly. 

Steve unlocks it, and the two of you enter Bucky's side of the room. 

Bucky steps back to lean against the far wall and gestures wordlessly for you to sit on the bed. You take the offer, but Steve stays standing.

"How... how are you feeling, Buck?"

Bucky doesn't respond for a long moment, then shrugs. It's not exactly a comfortable silence, but it's not awkward either. It's just exhausted. Bucky is staring at the floor, though he is definitely more calm now that you’re in there with him. Steve’s gaze is flicking between you and Bucky, his arms crossed. You’re staring at my own hands.

Finally, Steve clears his throat. "Well… I know today hasn’t exactly been the typical meet-cute, but we are all finally together. Y/n, how about you tell us about yourself?"

You shift uncomfortably.  "Well... I, uh... I was raised sort of adjacent to HYDRA. Father hid my soulmarks from the press, but I remember being brought into a HYDRA base when I was small just to show somebody my forearm. They took a few photos of the marks, and then I sat there doodling while they talked. I was too young to really know what they were talking about.

"When I hit puberty, Father started training me to fight. I'm pretty good at it, but uh, not good enough to have been an agent or anything. Then he noticed how well I was doing with my studies, and he started sending me to all sorts of science classes. He had me go to college for engineering and biotechnology, and then start working in the HYDRA labs. I never wanted to build weapons, and he knew that, and he didn't want to waste my talent or whatever, so I worked on defensive measures and medical technology. I uh, I was never allowed to see any of the notes for the Winter Soldier program - not that I wanted to. And I guess now I know why."

You pause for a moment. "And... and then today happened. My father drugged me, dragged me to a helicarrier, and put a gun to my head. Because who cares if I die as long as I do it serving HYDRA.”

Bucky’s eyes snap up to meet yours. He wasn’t there when your father did that, and he is clearly not pleased to hear about it. “He did what?”

You look away. “He used me to threaten Steve. But the helicarriers started crashing and I was able to get away.”

Bucky pushes off of the wall and starts pacing again. “He used you as a hostage?” 

You nod.

Steve’s jaw tenses at the memory, but he doesn’t say anything.

Bucky is furious. “How dare he. He tried to use our bond against us, use it to further his own mission. He threatened you… where is he now?”

“Dead, probably,” you say bluntly. 

A strange combination of grim satisfaction and empathy crosses Bucky’s face. He doesn’t respond.

“I’m sorry, Doll,” says Steve softly. “For all of that.”

You shrug. “I’m too tired to even know how I feel about it. It’s fine.”

“That doesn’t sound like being fine,” Steve presses, giving you the concerned face you’re already so familiar with.

“Shhh… Everything is fine and normal, Steve.”

Bucky huffs, rolling his eyes, the closest thing you’ve seen to a smile from him tugging at his lips. 

You smile too. “I’m changing the subject: doll? What’s that about?”

Steve blushes faintly. “It’s… you know. A pet name. It was more of a thing back in the day. I used to call Bucky doll all the time… in private, anyway.” a brief shadow crosses his features. 

Bucky faces Steve, a serious look on his face. “Your friends. They saw us, they know about our bond. Can we trust them?”

Steve’s face softens, and he steps closer to Bucky. “Buck… things are different now.” He raises a hand tentatively, resting it on Bucky’s cheek. 

Bucky shudders slightly, but he doesn’t pull away.

“We don’t have to hide anymore, okay? ‘S not perfect, but… but we don’t gotta hide, doll. We don’t gotta pretend we’re not in love.”

Bucky takes a shaky breath, leaning into Steve’s touch. “You… you promise, Stevie?”

“Promise. No more hiding. And we don’t have to hide about y/n either.”

Bucky almost looks like he might cry, break down in Steve’s arms, but then he clears his throat, nodding. “Good. No more hiding.” He sits down on the bed, not directly next to you, but not far. The silence returns, but this time there’s a comfort to it, the air saturated with the knowledge that somehow, everything is gonna be okay.

Chapter Text

It turns out SHIELD falling is kind of a massive deal. Steve, Tony, Clint and Nat are immediately very busy dealing with the aftermath, talking to the press and the government, and doing whatever else needs to be done. You're not really sure, honestly. Steve is exhausted after his excursions and never wants to talk about it.

You’re moved into a guest room not far from Steve’s apartment in the Tower, and soon after Bucky is moved next door to you. The team have agreed - with much insistence from Steve - that it’s safe to let him out of the cell they had been keeping him in. Despite how hectic everything is, the three of you fall into a sort of routine.

Every morning Steve wakes up stupidly early to go on a run with Sam. When he gets back he takes a shower and goes to eat a massive, super soldier level breakfast. Usually a protein shake, some sort of fruit, an egg or two, and several pieces of buttered toast. He's a big believer in food groups.

At some point during this breakfast Bucky comes out of his room to eat something himself. He eats just as much as Steve, but he usually goes for something other than a protein shake, which is all the proof you need that there's still joy in his heart.

The two sit in silence until you emerge from your room, exhausted, to eat two yogurt cups. Steve usually tries to offer you toast or a banana in addition, but you always turn him down. It's too goddamn early for food, and frankly for conversation. You're happy to sit quietly with your soulmates at the table while you eat, until Steve has to leave for some meeting or another. Bucky always stays with you until you're done eating, then returns to his room without a word.

You usually end up spending the rest of the morning in your own room, either doomscrolling on your new Starkphone or drawing. Anything to avoid sitting with your thoughts.

Steve isn't always home for lunch, but you and Bucky eat together even if he isn't. Sometimes Bucky will rasp out a question about your morning, or if you know when Steve will be back. You give him the same answers every time:Your morning was fine, and you don't know. You eat in silence.

If Steve is home, he'll try to make pleasant conversation. You and him will talk about something lighthearted while Bucky listens, occasionally grunting or giving a small huff when something amuses him. And then Steve is gone again with a sigh and a quiet 'see you later, yeah?'

Some time in the late afternoon you all end up in the gym together. The first few times it was mostly coincidence, but then it became a habit. Sometimes Steve spars with Nat or Sam, sometimes he or Bucky breaks a punching bag, and sometimes you slip and nearly eat shit on the treadmill because you got distracted staring at one of them. They'll both rush over to you, Steve asking if you're alright while Bucky turns off the treadmill and checks you eyes for signs of a concussion, even if you didn't hit your head. Then you'll move on from the treadmill to something else, something where getting distracted is less dangerous.

After training you go your separate ways to shower and then reconvene for supper. Supper is generally a team event, and as such Bucky leaves as soon as he's done eating. You and Steve stick around for longer to talk to the others, and then separate for the evening. Rinse and repeat the next day, and the next, and the next.

Bucky barely speaks this entire time. He answers simple questions, asks about you and Steve's well-being or whereabouts, but that's about it. You've also never seen him out of his room except at mealtimes and the gym. You're worried about him, no matter how many times he grunts out that he's "Fine," or responds to Steve's gentle questioning with "Don' worry, doll." He is very clearly not fine, he has no reason to be fine, and he will probably remain not fine for the foreseeable future. You just wish he would give you and Steve a chance to help him, or at least understand what was going on in his head. Not that you have much room to talk, 'fine' and 'don't worry' leave your mouth just as often as his, but at least you're speaking. At least you wander out of your room sometimes to read in the common area or go for a walk around the city. 

Steve is clearly worried about both of you, he looks desperately guilty whenever he has to leave and you wish you could convince him he doesn't have to be. You know it's a lost cause.

After nearly two weeks of this, Steve finally has an afternoon off. The day starts as usual, until Bucky gets up to leave from lunch and Steve grabs his arm to stop him.

"Wait."

Bucky tenses, staring at Steve with furrowed eyebrows.

Steve loosens his grip. "I have the afternoon off. I was thinking we could spend some time together. Real time, not eating a meal or training in the same room. Just us, in my living room." He glances between you and Bucky, his eyes pleading.

Bucky pulls his hand away gently and crosses his arms, giving a firm nod.

"Yeah," you say, "That sounds... nice."

Steve smiles, settling back in his chair. "Thank you."

Steve's living room is small and neat, containing only a bookshelf and a couch facing a TV. You and Steve sit on opposite ends of the couch while Bucky sits on the floor, staring up at you intently. He looks good like that.

You shift uncomfortably. "So. Either of you, uh, watch TV or anything?"

Steve nods. "I've got a whole list of modern media to catch up on."

"Ah, right, you're old as hell."

He gives you an indignant look. "I'm in my prime. I just missed a few things in the glacier."

"Like the advent of color television."

"Exactly."

You smirk. "Go on, old man, let's hear about how back in your day you went outside and read for fun."

You swear you see a smile on Bucky's face, just for a second.

"As a matter of fact I did used to read. Bucky read the Hobbit when it first came out, actually."

Bucky perks up slightly. "yeah." he says gruffly. 

You lean back on the couch. "So, what did y'all get into back in the day? I've heard a few stories, but I wanna hear it from you."

Steve glances at Bucky with a fond look. "Well, Buck and I met as kids. He saved me from getting my teeth knocked in."

Bucky doesn't respond, but listens intently, seeming a little more relaxed than usual as his own memories are confirmed.

"I used to pick a lot of fights, you know. Wore newspaper in my shoes as makeshift lifts, I was scrawny as hell. Always picking on somebody twice my size.

"I knew I felt something the first time his hand touched my face, making sure my nose wasn't broken, but I didn't know what it was. I thought it was adrenaline, or something. We were two boys, we weren't supposed to... to be soulmates."

The tension returns to Bucky.

"At the time it wasn't seen as proper to discuss your marks. I remember when I was finally big enough that mine were readable, my mother spent all of Sunday crying in church. She didn't tell me why, and when I asked about my marks she said sometimes the marks are confusing, but that there was a girl out there for me somewhere. I learned not to think about it. Buck had a similar story. I didn't know his name was James when we met, so I didn't realize, and he always says my handwriting is so bad he assumed his mark said Stephanie. 

"Anyhow, one day I got sick. I was always sick, before the serum. I was running a fever, so I was just wearing boxers with a sheet over me. Buck came to visit, snuck into my folks' place with some penny candy to try and cheer me up. he saw my arm, and got all quiet. He left, I just thought he didn't wanna associate with me and my weird mark. Before he left, he just muttered "Steve Rogers. Steven fuckin' Grant fuckin' Rogers."

Bucky looks down, pained. You want to reach out to him, but you're not sure he would want that.

"Few days later, I was feeling better, and he stopped by again. He snuck into my room, locked the door, pushed a chair in front of it, and I should have been scared but I remember feeling... happy. Just happy he was there, even if he was acting like he was about to murder me."

Bucky winces.

"He walks up to me, takes off his jacket, and shows me his soulmarks. He says:'My name is James Buchanan Barnes, and I'm going to hell.' I stared at him, just stared for so long. Then I said 'can I come with you?' and he kissed me."

Bucky goes from looking saddened and ashamed to blushing. "...not how it happened."

You tilt your head. "No? How did it happen?"

"Punk kissed me."

Steve grins. "You absolutely kissed me first. You were so gentle, like you thought I was made of paper."

"'basically were. And you kissed me, then you asked to come with me. All desperate like."

Now Steve is flustered. "No, I had just been sick, I wouldn't risk getting you sick too."

"I thought I was supposed to be the one who can't remember shit. You kissed me first, and hard. I kissed you first the the second time. It was weeks later, and you asked me if I thought your nose had healed ugly. I told you to shut the hell up, because you look damn perfect, and kissed you."

"And we've been together ever since," Steve says, still grinning.

This is the most you've heard Bucky speak, and the happiest you've seen him. A part of you wonders if he'd ever look that happy about you, but you squish it down along with your thoughts of what it might be like to kiss either of them.

Bucky isn't done talking. "We used to talk about the future, 'bout who our third was, 'bout if we'd ever be able to get married. Then the war happened, and I left, and Stevie followed. I still remember the first time I saw him, when he saved me from that camp. I knew it was him, but part of me was scared that on the inside he wouldn't be the same Stevie. That he'd be some macho man, too good for me, and... it was the 40s. Guess part of me thought the serum would knock the fag out of him. America's perfect soldier couldn't be a fuckin' fairy, right? But nah, still Stevie. And I was still me, even with my shitty serum. We were still getting used to our strength, we broke a bedframe when we next got to sleep in a real bed."

You sit quietly. It's not like you're surprised our anything, but hearing about the way they grew up still makes your heart ache. Then he says that bit about the bedframes and you nearly choke on air because what a fucking picture.

Steve throws a pillow at Bucky. "Buck, we don't call ourselves that anymore."

He huffs. "People online call us that. 'seen it."

"Woah woah woah, pause" you said. "Who taught you to work the internet, Bucky?"

He shrugs. "Steve showed be the basics. Figured out the rest myself. I like technology."

You're not really sure how to react to this information. "And... you've seen people talking about you?"

"About us, darlin'. The three of us. Calling me a monster, Steve a traitor, you a spy, they say our bond is unnatural. And yeah, they talk about how the country's gone to hell because Captain America himself is a fag now." 

Steve's gaze darkens. "Ignore them, Buck, they don't know anything. Clearly they don't, seeing as I was just as big of a faggot back then."

"The internet is a bad place," you say. "I mean, I've seen some of that to, but I've learned to avoid it. Look at pictures of cute animals instead. I didn't even know you had a phone, I can show you which parts are worth interacting with."

Bucky is clearly irate. "I need to know what they're saying. I keep seein' Nazis on there. Everybody said we beat the Nazis, but HYDRA is everywhere, they could be planning something."

You bite your tongue, letting out a slow breath. "Okay. So. Uh. Those... those are neo-Nazis. Mostly no connection to the actual Nazi party, or to HYDRA. Just... people being shitty."

Bucky gives you a serious look. "Darlin', you seen what they say about you? Some people think you're a HYDRA spy and those Nazi fucks think you're a traitor to their cause."

"Yeah. And I try and ignore it."

"You're not a super soldier, they could try and hurt you."

"That's... okay, yeah, that does happen still, but I'm gonna be okay. I'm very lucky, we live somewhere mostly safe, and people on the internet say a lot of stuff they'd never say in real life. And I can fight."

"But you don't have the serum. And you said yourself fighting isn't your strong suit. I see people talking every day about hating us, saying things about how they hope we die."

"They don't all mean it."

"I don't care. I ain't losing you, Darlin', I just got you. And Steve... Steve, you could get overwhelmed if there's enough of them, maybe it is HYDRA, and we live in a giant damn tower in New York, just broadcasting our location-"

Steve puts a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "Buck... it's okay."

Bucky looks up at him with wild eyes. "We aren't safe."

"Yes, we are. We have each other, yeah? And the rest of the team, too. Darlin's right, those people online aren't gonna do anything."

"Some of them might. I see politicians saying things too."

"Yeah, well, we can handle that. I wasn't on the best terms with the government before this anyway. Buck, I see tons of people saying how happy they are that we found each other. I see queer soulmates, especially multi-bonds, talking about us making them feel more comfortable with themselves. I know being out to the world is scary, but the cat's out of the bag, and we are safe."

"I don't feel safe." Bucky says quietly. "I think they're going to come for me eventually. For us."

"HYDRA?" you ask.

"Yeah."

You slide off the couch to sit beside him. "I think they probably will, eventually. But they're weaker now. We can handle it, yeah?"

He reaches out a hand cautiously, then stops short of touching you. "You don't know that."

"We got away, didn't we? And that was without help from the whole team. Now that you're you again, we can take on anything."

"You're just saying that."

You reach out your own hand to touch his. "I actually do believe it. I think it's gonna be okay."

Steve kneels beside the two of you, his hand still on Bucky's shoulder. "It is. Everything is gonna be okay."

Bucky looks down. "I don't understand how you can really believe that."

"Bucky, this is the most I've ever heard you speak." You say. "I'm just glad to hear my soulmate's voice, everything else is frankly a later problem."

He huffs, but doesn't argue.

Steve presses a kiss to his forehead. It's easy, the affection, in a way that you try not to be jealous over. 

You squeeze Bucky's hand and let it go. "Let's change the subject, yeah? Steve, tell us what's happening with the team, Sam looks incredibly pleased with himself today."

Steve releases Bucky's shoulder, a smile pulling at his face. "Well. He and I had a little bet going about this politician and his wife..."