Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Bucky saw that the mission was in a semi-familiar area of Georgia he honestly didn't think that much of it at the time. There was light discussion about the mission before hand, who was coming who wasn't that sort of thing. He watched as John's eyes widened slightly when he learned the location they were heading to but the man never spoke up against going. It was run of the mill if anything, or it was supposed to be.

The mission went perfectly, surprising for them, but the mission wasn't the thing that ended up being the problem. Usually they don't get to have much downtime in the places they're doing cleanup at, but apparently there had been some problem with their transportation. It was needed elsewhere and they ended up having to wait a day longer then planed before heading back to home-base.

It's far from the worst problem they've ever had. It should have been fine. That's what he keeps repeating to himself at least.

None of them wanted to be cooped up in a hotel all day, the adrenaline still pumping through each of them in low levels. It was Ava's idea to go sight seeing, get a coffee and just enjoy the beautiful day.

It was all going well, walking through the mostly empty streets of the small town they had found themselves in. Until the tension that he had been feeling since he saw the location, only a few miles out from Custer's Grove, finally snapped.

"Johnny!" A low, very southern voice called out from ahead of them.

The group that Bucky had been walking at the back of stopped in its tracks immediately. It was only because of how tall John is that he saw how the man's back straightened, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up in an instant.

"Dad." John's voice was barely above a growl, but flat borderline emotionless.

It was a shock to hear the familial name come from John. Bucky honestly thought both of his parents were dead, he never spoke to them or about them. Only talking to the Hoskins and referring to them as one would a family. That assumption was wrong.

It was silent and unanimous as the rest of the group stepped back and away, giving whatever was about to happen the space John would want. As they stepped away he finally got to look at John's father.

They looked remarkably similar, but very different at the same time. John was taller by a good few inches, the other man having possibly gotten shorter with age, and where John looked fit the older man looked like he'd let himself go. The biggest difference was in their faces however, because while John can often look mean, his father appeared like he'd never looked anything but.

"Took ya long enough to come down round here. 'Voiding your father aren't chya?"

"Yeah well. I've been busy."

"Not too busy to disgrace your family apparently. How'd'ya think we woulda taken it, seeing your discharge on the news insteada out your mouth?"

John didn't say anything back to that. Just stared into his father's face with no emotion at all.

"Ain't gonna respond to that? Alrigh then."

"What do you want?"

"What do I want? I want you to man the fuck up already."

It's then that the older man reaches for his waistband, pulling out a small pistol and pointing it at his son. Before anyone can say anything or jump in, John is pulling his own pistol. One Bucky hadn't realized he had on him.

It isn't like before in the tower with Valentina, his finger is nowhere near the trigger. Although with how quick the man is that could change in an instant. But this isn't just him reacting to an insult or threat, it's him proving a point.

The older Walker backs down pretty quickly after the draw. He doesn't return the gun back to his person, but lowers his arm back towards the ground. John does the same soon after.

"This is how it always goes. We see each other for the first time in years, you try and pick a fight with me, either I respond or I don't and it doesn't matter cause either way you're gonna escalate to tryin' to threaten me. Then you realize I'm not eighteen any more and you can't just push me around."

John sounds tired as he speaks, as if this is something he's thought about a hundred times.

"I'm gettin' tired of this game of yours pops."

"Well that's a shame, considern' 'm the only family you got left, Johnny."

He sounds almost sad as he speaks, but there an edge to it that makes Bucky's hackles rise like Alpine when he met Fanny for the first time.

"Cause let's face it Johnathan, I am aren't I? Your ma passed years ago, your sister's gone to the wind and Mike, well, Mike left a long time ago. Olivia finally came to her damn senses 'bout you and," older Walker stops and laughs to himself for a second, as if anything he's saying is funny, "do ya even remember ya kids name?"

The look he gives is challenging, like a red cape in front of a bull. "I ain't ever heard it."

"Don't talk about Liv or my son." John's voice is steal.

"Your son, not even sayin his name still. Guess the apple don't fall too far from the tree do it?"

John is still as Walker steps closer to him, evading his space with dangerous ease. The rest of the team is equally as still around Bucky, it's like the few seconds on the highway before you watch a head on collision. You see it coming but there's nothing you can do but watch. John's hand not holding the pistol shakes, the one with the gun in it doesn't move at all

"You aren't the only family I got." It sounds almost like a plea.

Walker laughs right in his sons face, only inches away.

"Really? Woulda figured you'd have this figured out by now. Those Hoskins people, they ain't ya blood boy."

John only gets tenser at the mention of his best friend's family.

"As much as that women likes to pretend she's some sorta saint." He says like he's spitting. "I doubt even she coulda forgiven you for gettin' her real son killed."

He continues, arm sweeping out in the team's direction with a snarl. There's the slightest flinch from John in the shoulders as his father's arm raises.

"An' as for these, play pretend heroes. They ain't your family either. Even if they were I doubt they'd really care 'bout you Johnathan."

He's gearing up for some grand final statement, and everyone can feel it.

"They'd sooner leave you in the fire. Just like the rest of us. It's what you deserve son."

John's inhale is sharp, sudden. As if he wasn't expecting this to go as far as it has. Bucky's feet feel as though they're glued to the ground in place. Nothing about this has gone how he'd expected.

Before he can blink though, Bob is there. Gently grabbing John by the shoulder to move him behind him. His face is a storm of anger, taking a protective stance in front of John.

In a mirroring moment, Bob's fist is flying into John's father's face.

Walker senior clearly wasn't expecting this. Unable to properly roll with the punch he falls like a sack of potatoes to the ground, groaning quietly. It's good that they'd been working on restraint, because if they hadn't been he's unsure the man's head wouldn't have flown off. Bob kicks the pistol that fell from his hand away from him, further down the thankfully empty sidewalk.

"Don't ever talk to John again." Bob finally says. Voice calm but with an edge to it that reminds Bucky of the color gold.

John is shaking in earnest now, his body shivering as if it is cold despite the strong Georgia heat. Bob's hands are gripping onto his wrists guiding him further away from the man on the ground and towards the rest of them.

Yelena moves next, calmly coming up to John's side and gently guiding the gun out of John's hands. He lets her, letting go of it easily as she takes it from his hands. Placing it in a previously empty holster in her jacket.

Alexei from next to him mumbles something about getting the car, jogging off to the parking lot where they had left it. Patting both Ava and Bucky on the shoulders beforehand.

That and John getting within arms reach of him finally, finally. Unsticks his feet from the ground. In combat if he'd hesitated this long before acting they'd be dead, but this isn't combat. This was something very different.

There's a bench nearby further away from the scene, one that he points out to Bob so he can guide John towards it. Bob still hasn't let go of him, which is likely for the best, and he smiles at him in thanks while changing course towards it. The shift from a few moments ago to that almost gives him whiplash.

He goes to turn towards Ava, only to find that Ava has disappeared. Getting Walker senior the fuck away from here then. Bucky almost wishes he called dibs but she beat him to it, so he can't be too upset about it.

John's mumbling something, words barely escaping his lips but he can tell that it's just the word 'fuck' over and over again. There's almost a hazy quality to his eyes, like he isn't really here. Once they finally him sitting down on the bench Bob moves his hands from the wrists to just straight holding his hands. Yelena is talking, about how they're all here and how Alexei is getting the car. How they're going back to the hotel and he can pick what they're ordering in for dinner tonight.

Bucky is just kinda standing in front them, acting as a guard between his three and the rest of the world. The iced coffee he forgot he had slowly melting in his hand giving him an idea.

"Can I get one of his hands?" He softly asks Bob, who gives up John's left hand with little hesitation. Moving his other hand to the back of John's neck, holding it gentle but firm.

Grabbing John's hand he puts the bottom of his cold drink to his palm. Allowing the cold to seep from the plastic into his skin. John inhales at this, sharp again but in clarity instead of pain. Yelena takes this opportunity for what it is. Finally seeming to get through to him that his father was gone.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to. Sorry." John says under his breath.

"You have nothing to be sorry about." Bob says, venom in his voice calmed down to a slight simmer.

The car pulls up, Alexei in the driver seat moments later, and he lets the other two handle getting John into the backseat. Throwing away what's left of his coffee in a nearby trashcan, Ava appears in front of him moments later.

"Did you kill him?" He asks, without a spot of judgement.

"No. It was tempting though." Is her response.

"Well I appreciate you holding back."

"Thank you, I do try."

She smiles at him, no humor and a slight sadness to it, climbing into the backseat to join the other three in what is sure to be an unsafe configuration for the duration of the drive back to the hotel.

He takes a moment to look around, see if there is anyone still around who could've seen what happened, or any cameras. Finding nothing he stops ignoring Alexei's hand-waving and gets in shotgun. Leaving the scene of a good day turned sour behind.

Chapter Text

John basically collapses from the adrenaline crash the moment the door to the hotel room door locks behind all of them.

It's not a massive room they got put up in for the night, couldn't have been with such short notice. But it has two beds, a pullout couch and a chair, which proved to be enough for all of them. The tight quarters were rough but nothing they hadn't dealt with as a group or individually before. Now Bucky thinks they might even be a comfort.

No one takes attacks on one of their own lightly here.

Bob still hasn't let go of John at this point, he's starting to wonder if it's a comfort for both of them. He guides the two of them towards the bed, Bob guiding John to sitting as his legs wobble before John takes the executive route and starfishes on his back on the comforter.

Bob snorts under his breath at that, with no room on the bed he sits on the floor beside it his head leaned back next to John's hand. Yelena takes up residency on the other bed, sitting against the headboard and unsubtly glancing several times in John's direction. Then she's on her phone, pulling up one of the many food delivery apps they use and setting up for a delivery here.

Ava sits with her, but much closer to the space between the beds where Bob is sitting. Insisting without words to double check Bob didn't hurt his hand, if that would even be possible. Alexei is being oddly quiet, situating the pullout bed they didn't have reason to put back into couch mode before leaving this afternoon before sitting down on it with a sigh.

Bucky himself wants to pace the room, but there isn't any space to do so. Instead he sits in the chair he took residency in the night before, his leg bouncing up and down without any conscious input on his part.

If the car ride back was quiet this is dead silent. It isn't uncomfortable, it just is.

No one really knows what to say, if they should say anything at all. The confrontation plays on repeat in his head, every detail he remembers or notices for the first time just makes it all worse. Would John even want to talk about it? If he does what is and isn't off limits?

Yelena ends up breaking it, fulfilling the promises she made on that random bench.

"What do you think we should order John?" She asks, not looking up at him or the room at all.

John makes a noise somewhere in-between a groan and a sigh before replying in a quiet voice. "Can you tell me what the barbecue places around here are?"

They end up getting an honestly impressive amount of barbecue from a local place that apparently has been around here since John was playing football in high-school. He promises it's some of the best you can have and he isn't wrong.

While they eat things mostly go back to normal, with Bob laughing in Alexei's face at his reaction to coleslaw and the few people sitting on beds trying their best not to get the sauce on the sheets.

It's when they're mostly done eating that Bucky notices John's been staring at the wall for the past five minutes. Ava is mid-sentence talking to Yelena about how the food did not need more heat to it when his voice interrupts her, putting the whole room into silence.

"I didn't mean to freeze like that." He says.

He flops back down on his back, arm flinging over his face. As if he doesn't think he can handle this conversation while looking any of them in the eye. Funnily enough, at his words the rest of the room seems to freeze.

"It's a valid response. You don't exactly get to pick which one you have." Bucky decides on saying.

"Your dad's a real piece of work." Bob blurted out, as if he'd been waiting to say it.

John laughs at this, a humorless sad thing. As if he's heard that line before.

"Yeah he is. It feel good?" He asks, peaking an eye out from under his arm to look at Bob, he doesn't complete the question but everyone knows the full one anyways.

"As good as it must have felt for you to punch mine." Is his response.

"I wondered about that, in the aftermath." Yelena adds. "Why you went at him so viciously. Guess now I know."

John grimaces. "He was never like. That. He yelled and he broke shit sure but he never."

It's Ava who cuts him off. "No. He just threatens to shoot you in the street."

It's quiet for a moment after that. A settling of what that means, what they all heard was implied.

"I'm just glad he didn't try and pull y'all into it. He did that once with Lemar. I managed to pull the attention back on to me and Mrs. Hoskins did not take kindly to it when she found out but in the moment it was. Not great."

The problem with knowing people so well is that once in a while your minds all meld together. That's the only reason they know for sure that John has more to say, that they can't interrupt him right now or he'll never say it all.

"I hate it when he's right, but for the wrong reasons. Last time we saw each other was a bit after me and Olivia got married. He loved her, always thought she was too good for me. Probably one of the few opinions of me he had that I ever respected." He removes the arm off his face, staring straight up at the ceiling with a sigh.

"I never wanted him to know about Liam because I knew that it wouldn't matter that the kid was half Olivia, it'd only matter that he was half me. Kid's gonna get enough of that already I didn't want it to come from his own grandfather."

"He mentioned leaving you in a fire. Was that a metaphor or?" Ava broaches carefully.

John doesn't move for a moment, it looks like he's hardly breathing before he manages to croak out a no. Every face in the room twists into messes of confusion and horror.

"When I was young there was a house fire. Took place in the middle of the night. I don't know where he was, but my mom came in to grab my sister. Then they all kinda just. Left me there. Mike, my older brother, wasn't even supposed to be in the country I don't think. He was the one who came in and pulled me out."

The anger in the room is palatable, like static in the air.

"I should've killed him." Ava declares, to the reproachful sounds of himself and Yelena.

"No, I should have punched him harder." Bob argues back, to the same reproachful tones.

John's smiling faintly from the bed at the mini argument. "We never talk about it, the fire. It's almost like it never happened."

They all looked towards him as he finished his statement with a simple. "Wasn't expectin' him to bring it up, maybe I should've."

Alexei speaks for the first time since the topic of discussion began, in a tone they all rarely hear from him. Soft and serious. "That man may be your blood. He is not your family." He asserts.

The room is quiet as Alexei speaks to all of them, focusing his gaze solely on John. "No one gets left behind here. Ever."

---

Bucky finds John outside exactly how he suspected he would. There a small area behind every hotel for the smokers. Sometimes it has a bench, most of the time it's just one of those tall ashtrays so you don't leave the butts on the ground. This is one of the latter.

John's leaning against the outside wall, aluminum tin of tobacco chews fiddling in his hand while he looks at the ground. His head perks up a little bit when he hears Bucky approaching but the tension that holds for a second fades at the recognition of his recognizable gait.

He doesn't say anything as he approaches, just pulls the small package of cigarettes he has out of his pocket, grabs one and the lighter before putting it back. Stands without leaning on the wall next to the taller man, waits for the sounds of the night to settle into his bones before speaking.

John beats him to it.

"He had a point, in all that mess. He did."

He just hums, waiting for him to get it all out.

"He is the only blood I really have left, and am I not doing just what he did? I mean Liam."

Nope. Not a spiel that needs to be spoken allowed. He raises his hand to get John to stop.

"He didn't have a point. Every person you have ever spoken to about Liam can tell just how much you love him, you're not like him. And blood doesn't have to mean shit."

Bucky looks over at him. "My dad died a few years before I was drafted. We fought like cats and dogs until literally the day he died."

"Why?" John asks simply.

He shrugs. "Didn't like Steve. Had a lot of opinions I didn't agree with about Steve, but Steve meant far more to me then he ever could. Because Steve was my family, and while that man was my blood and my father he didn't act like my family."

"Didn't know this was team daddy issues." He mumbles in response, and Bucky can't help the smile that breaks out.

He lays his right arm across the other mans shoulders, pulling him in to face him. John moves easily and with trust, an evasion of space he knows won't hurt him.

"Now you listen to me and you listen to me good Jonathan Walker. All those people in that room upstairs care very deeply for you, I care about you. That man doesn't and you don't have to care about him either, because he's dead wrong when he says we're not your family. Got it?"

The longer he talks the more he sees the smile spread across his face. "Got it sarge."

"Good. Now I am going to smoke this gross cigarette cause the modern age has ruined the taste of tobacco, you're gonna have one of those disgusting chews and then we're both getting our asses upstairs before they all send out a destructive search party."

Bucky keeps his arm around him but leans away to light the cig.

"They aren't that disgusting."

"There's a spittoon on our balcony that only you use and clean out, cause it's gross."

"Ok it's a little gross." John admits. Laughing under his breath in a way that lets Bucky know that he's going to be ok. It's what he deserves.