Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It had been almost a month since the last time Bucky spoke to Sam, and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t miserable.

It wasn’t that Bucky didn’t want to speak to Sam, he did more than anything. It was that Sam didn’t want to speak to him. The whole thing was Bucky’s fault, anyways.

He and Sam had been going steady for a while, with Sam making the first move at the cookout after the whole Flagsmashers ordeal, and it was the best thing that had ever happened to Bucky. He loved Sam and his family more than anything, just the fact that he was able to call Sam his boyfriend was enough to have Bucky blushing like a schoolgirl.

When Sam started going on more missions as Captain America and Bucky decided to run for congress they got a cozy apartment in Brooklyn; one that was much better than Bucky’s old one.

Deep down, Bucky really wanted to get a house in Delacroix, closer to Sam’s family–but between his and Sam's jobs, it was just easier to get a place in New York.

Their relationship was good–almost perfect, even–and then Bucky went and fucked it all up.

It started when Sam began spending more and more time away from home, going on missions for weeks at a time. Bucky understood why he was away a lot, obviously, but that didn’t mean it didn’t bother him.

The more Sam was away, the more lonely Bucky felt. Even congress wasn’t helping distract Bucky from his isolation.

The mixture of Bucky’s distance from Sam plus his own inability to deal with his problems normally was how he got roped into joining a team of incompetent aspiring ‘hero’s’.

Now, that alone wouldn’t be so bad if said team wasn’t immediately taken advantage of by Valentina and re–named to the ‘New Avengers’. Bucky didn’t hate being on the team, everyone was pretty nice all things considered (except for Walker) and being able to do something–to help people–definitely made him feel less depressed.

The only problem was the name. The second the words ‘New Avengers’ left Valentina's mouth Bucky knew that he was in trouble. Sam wasn’t happy, not at all.

The moment that Bucky set foot in their shared apartment Sam began yelling at him. Bucky didn’t even fight back, just stood there in silence while Sam cursed him out. He only snapped out of his silence when Sam said that he was leaving.

‘Please don’t leave, Sweetheart. We can work something out, just please don’t leave.’ Bucky had begged, staring at Sam with tearful eyes.

‘You gonna leave the team?’ Sam had asked, glaring at Bucky.

‘I…I can’t, Sam. They need me.’ Bucky breathed out, tearing his eyes away from Sam’s.

It was over after that, with Sam leaving the apartment and slamming the door in Bucky’s face. Bucky didn’t cry, not at first; he just…shut down.

The day after Sam had left, Bucky packed up his stuff (mostly Alpine, his cats, stuff) and moved into the Watchtower. He didn’t get rid of the apartment, he still paid rent for it but he didn’t go back; it brought back far too many emotional memories for Bucky to handle.

That's how he’d ended up here, curled over the toilet bowl at the ass-crack of dawn, puking his guts out.

It had become a strange habit of sorts, every morning Bucky would be woken up by the worst nausea he’d ever felt and then spent the next hour or so on the floor of his en suite, trying to throw up as quietly as possible.

He wasn’t…frightened by it, not really; he was, however, somewhat concerned. Super soldiers weren’t supposed to get sick, in all the many, many years that Bucky had had the serum he’d never been sick once. No coughing, fevers, headaches or nausea–so whatever was causing this could, somehow, override the knock–off Hydra serum.

Through the haziness he was feeling from all the nausea, a faint ‘meow’ caused him to raise his head up from the toilet bowl for the first time in forty–five minutes.

“Hey, girl.” Bucky whispered, scratching the top of Alpine’s head.

The nausea had calmed down enough for Bucky to slowly stand up on shaky legs. He carefully trekked out of the bathroom, with Alpine following behind, and made his way into the common room.

Bucky was shocked to find everyone already there, well, everyone except for Alexei–who was god knows where. He didn’t pay much mind to them, though, moving through the kitchen to get some water.

“You look awful, Barnes.” Yelena spoke, staring at Bucky from where she was sitting at the kitchen counter.

“Thanks, Yelena.” Bucky forced out, wincing at the hoarseness of his voice.

“She’s not wrong, you don’t look so hot.” Ava added, petting Alpine from where she’d jumped atop of the counter.

“Probably has something to do with the fact that you’ve been puking your guts up every morning…” John grumbled.

“No one asked for your input, Walker.” Bucky hissed, gulping down a glass of water.

“Maybe you should see a doctor.” Bob suggested, startling Bucky who did not notice he was there.

“Bob is right, Bucky. You should really see a doctor.” Yelena spoke, sounding somewhat concerned.

“No,” Bucky murmured. “I don't need to see a doctor, I’m fine.”

As if on queue, Bucky felt another wave of nausea wash over him and he curled forward, gripping onto the sides of the kitchen sink so hard that it would no doubt leave a dent.

“It’s really not an option, Bucky. You’ve clearly got something wrong with you.” John said.

“I hate to agree with him, but…Walker is right,” Ava sighed, causing a smug smirk to make its way onto John’s face. “You’re not just fine, Bucky.”

“Stop it. Shut up, all of you,” Bucky spat through gritted teeth, turning around to face the team. “I’m not going to a doctor, I’m fine. Stop acting like you know me better than I know myself.”

The team stayed silent, all of them avoiding Bucky’s heated gaze. All but Bob.

“We’re not trying to tell you what to do, Bucky,” Bob reassured, his tone comforting. “We’re just worried about you.”

Bucky sighed, gripping the kitchen island and looking down at the floor. Bob was right, the team didn’t mean any harm by telling Bucky to go to a doctor–all things considered, he probably should.

There was a Wakandan outreach centre in Manhattan that Bucky could go to. Sure, it wasn’t exactly a doctor's office–but there were some people there that he knew from his time in Wakanda, plus probably some doctors.

They’d help him, and he didn’t have to go to some random hospital and give them all of his business.

“Alright, fine,” Bucky sighed, giving in. “I’ll go see a doctor, but I’m telling you there’s nothing wrong with me.”

Bob smiled at Bucky, which he tried to return as genuinely as possible. The rest of the team immediately started spouting random nonsense that brushed over Bucky’s head, the nausea had increased dramatically to the point that Bucky wasn’t sure he’d make it through another sentence.

As the team continued to argue about god knows what, Bucky silently slipped off to go and spill his guts once again.

***

As Bucky made his way towards the Wakandan outreach centre his mind wouldn’t stop racing.

What if he wasn’t fine? What if something was seriously wrong with him? What if he died without ever making up with Sam?

All the thoughts were racing through his head as he pushed the door open, slowly stepping inside the building. The building was very modern–looking, with tall windows lining the walls and small bits of greenery dotted all over.

It looked very different from anything that Bucky had seen in Wakanda, an all–American take on it, probably. It was welcoming enough, though; but it still didn’t make Bucky feel any less nervous for his appointment.

After the discussion with the team in the kitchen, Bucky had called up the centre and asked if he could book a medical appointment. The person on the phone put him on the line with a doctor who introduced herself as Dr. Oskia. Bucky didn’t recognise her, but she seemed nice enough so he booked an appointment with her for later in the week.

Now, standing in the lobby of the centre, Bucky was somewhat beginning to regret his decision. It’s not that he was uncomfortable by being there, it was more that he was just…nervous.

“Mr Barnes…?” a voice called from behind him.

When Bucky turned around he found himself face to face with a kind looking woman. She looked only young, in her late twenties or so, and, in a way, she somewhat reminded Bucky of Shuri.

“I’m Dr. Oskia, are you here for your appointment?” She asked, smiling kindly at Bucky.

“Yes.” Bucky replied, attempting to keep his tone as calm as possible.

Dr. Oskia didn’t seem to buy it though, gesturing for Bucky to follow her down the hallway. “It’s okay to be nervous, Mr Barnes. Many people are frightened by the doctors.”

Bucky nodded, his face flushing red in embarrassment at how easy it was for the doctor to read him. Dr Oskia guided him to her office.

As they entered the room Dr. Oskia told Bucky to sit down on the medical table as she settled in the chair across from him. She crossed her legs, moving her glasses from atop of her head to resting on her face before looking up at Bucky.

“So, James. What seems to be the problem?,” She asked. “You don’t mind if I call you James, right?”

Bucky shook his head, sighing.

“I don’t think there is a problem, I’m only here because my–,” He paused, thinking of what to call the team. “–friends think I’m sick.”

“And why do they think that?” Dr. Oskia spoke, leaning forward slightly.

“I’m very…nauseous, in the mornings–usually just after I wake up. I spend the first hour of the day curled up on the bathroom floor just…puking my brains out,” Bucky shrugged. “I guess they're concerned about me.”

“Hmm,” Dr. Oskia hummed, toying with the pen in her hand. “Do you have any other symptoms? Anything that seems…out of the ordinary?”

Bucky furrowed his brows, going over things that could’ve been seen as unusual in the past few weeks. Other than the nausea, Bucky supposed he was fine.

Sure, he’d been more tired than usual–but he assumed that that was because he was waking up at the crack of dawn every morning and puking his guts up. His chest had been sore, too–but he guessed that that was from poorly–healed bruises or some sort of reaction to the fabric of his shirts.

“I guess I’ve been more tired than usual, and my chest has been sore but…,” Bucky trailed off. “That’s not too strange.”

Dr. Oskia looked as though she was thinking very hard, scribbling something down on her notepad. After a moment, she set the pad down–turning to Bucky with a kind, yet confused, look on her face.

“I’d like to run some blood test on you, James,” She asked. “If that’s okay with you?”

Bucky felt his breath hitch at the mention of blood tests. He wasn’t fond of any medical examination, but he especially wasn’t fond of needles.

Swallowing his fear, Bucky nodded. He watched as Dr. Oskia began searching for a needle to take his blood, trying his hardest not to freak out and sprint out of the room.

Bucky managed to power through the blood test, squeezing his eyes shut as Dr. Oskia drew his blood.

She took the needles down the hall to the lab, telling Bucky that she would be back in twenty minutes or so with the results.

As Bucky waited for her to return, he stared out of the tall window in the room; admiring the view of busy Manhattan. He took a deep, shaky breath–attempting to calm all of his worries.

He shouldn’t be worried, realistically–he couldn’t get sick, he was a super soldier after all. He had a sneaking suspicion that the reason he was ill was that he was, well, depressed.

He’d been missing Sam fiercely ever since their fight that had taken place around a month ago now. It was dreadful, he liked the team and he liked living in the watchtower–but it didn’t feel like home. All he wanted was to wake up in Sam’s arms once again, with Sam’s soft lips pressed against the back of his neck and the warm sunlight draped over their bodies like a blanket.

But he couldn’t, because Sam hated him. All because Bucky was too much of a coward to talk to Sam about his problems.

There was a knock on the door that drew Bucky out of his thoughts. Dr. Oskia was standing there, a baffled look on her face, with an older looking woman by her side. Her name tag read ‘Dr. Zamve’.

“James,” Dr. Oskia spoke, her tone startled yet still professional. “I don’t want you to be alarmed but…we have some news.”

Bucky was definitely very much alarmed.

“What’s wrong?,” Bucky asked, unable to keep his voice calm. “Am I dying?”

“No, James,” Dr. Zamve chuckled, also sounding shocked in a way. “Quite the opposite actually.”

What? Bucky thought, his mind racing with millions of possibilities of what could be wrong with him.

“What does that mean?”

“Well, according to your blood tests,” Dr. Zamve said, looking at Bucky with a comforting gaze. “It would appear that you are…pregnant.”

Every single thought that was in Bucky’s mind previously vanished, and, without realising it, a startled reaction fell from his mouth. “…What?”

“I know that this is a lot to take in–,”

“How is that possible?,” Bucky cut her off. “I’m not–I don’t have the right parts for that…”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out, James,” Dr. Oskia said. “Do you know if, while you were with Hydra, do you know if they…experimented on you? On your body?”

Bucky shook his head. “They did but…but not like that. Not that I remember…”

Dr. Oskia nodded, turning to her co-worker. They exchanged a glance, some sort of silent interaction that Bucky didn’t understand.

Dr Zamve sighed, turning back to Bucky. “From what the blood tests say, you are definitely pregnant,” she said. “But we would still like to do an ultrasound, to see how this is even possible–and also to be sure the blood work is one hundred percent right.”

Bucky nodded despite only hearing the word ‘ultrasound’. How the hell could this be happening? They must’ve mixed up his blood samples with someone else’s or something because there was no way in hell that he could be pregnant. If Hydra altered his body like that, Bucky would’ve noticed–there was no way that he wouldn’t have, right?

As Dr. Oskia laid him down on the table, lifting up his shirt and placing some cold, jelly–like substance on his stomach before guiding the probe attached to the machine over it. Bucky closed his eyes, focusing on the beeping of the machine rather than the feeling of it against his stomach.

As the exam continued, Bucky began to think. In a strange way, it made sense–him being pregnant. Bucky remembered vaguely his mother’s pregnancies, how ill and tired she would be for the first few months–how much she would complain to his father about her chest being sore. Bucky had all the same symptoms, but, obviously, that didn’t even cross his mind once.

He wasn’t thinking about how his symptoms were similar to a woman’s in her first trimester of pregnancy, why would he? In no world, not until now at least, would Bucky ever even think that pregnancy was a possibility.

His mind shifted to Sam–his Sam. The man he loved more than anything, and, now, the father of his child. God, how the hell was he supposed to explain this to Sam?

After fifteen minutes or so, Dr. Oskia pulled the probe away–using a paper towel to wipe away the leftover jelly on his stomach.

“So,” She said, causing Bucky to open his eyes. “There is definitely a foetus in there.”

Bucky sighed, tipping his head against the pillow on the table.

“It appears you have all the correct inner workings to conceive a child, James,” Dr. Zamve added. “Whether it, the uterus, has been there your entire life or has been…added, later on, we’re not sure. There does, however, seem to be signs of previous pregnancies, though.”

Bucky's head shot up at that, his mind dizzy from the words. Previous pregnancies? Did Hydra…?

“How do you…?,” Bucky started but trailed off, unsure of what to say. “Is there any way you can…get rid of the–foetus…?”

Dr. Zamve tensed slightly at Bucky’s words, shifting on her feet in a way that already somewhat gave away her answer.

“No, I’m afraid not,” She spoke. “Your case is, well, the first of its kind. If we performed a procedure like that, there would be a serious risk of doing damage to your body that even the serum would be able to repair.”

“So…I have to carry it to full term? Give birth?” Bucky asked, just the thought of it sending shivers down his spine.

“Yes, we’re afraid so,” Dr. Zamve sighed. “Obviously, what you decide to do with the child afterwards is your own choice.”

Bucky nodded, turning his gaze away to glance down at his stomach. This was unreal, he was going to have a baby.

“If you don’t mind me asking, James,” Dr Oskia said. “Do you know the last person you had sex with, and when?”

The question caused Bucky to blush violently, and Dr. Zamve to shoot Dr. Oskia an angry glare.

Bucky did remember the last time he had sex, and who it was with. It was with Sam, obviously, and he remembered it like it was yesterday.

Sam had been away for three weeks, saving the world or whatever–and the moment he walked through the door to their apartment, Bucky was all over him. They never even made it to the bedroom, with Bucky pulling Sam down onto the living room floor and riding him until his legs gave out.

Sam had came inside him, but that wasn’t anything unusual. They never used protection, they never had a reason too; or Bucky thought they didn’t have a reason too. Turns out they did, and a pretty fucking big one at that.

“Yeah,” Bucky responded to the question, his voice low and melancholy. “Yeah, I do.”

Dr Oskia nodded, sensing that it was a sensitive subject and dropping it.

“Well, James,” Dr Zamve said, clapping her hands together. “Let’s begin discussing your appointment dates over the course of this pregnancy–.”

Both of the doctors continued discussing the details of what Bucky should expect medical wise over the course of the pregnancy. Telling him that he should come for a check–up at least once a month, and what other medical procedures he should expect; most of them sounded fine, except for ‘pelvic exam’ which caused Bucky to shudder in fear.

They told him that he was around eight weeks into his pregnancy, which definitely added up with the dates in Bucky’s head. It had been two months since he’d last had sex, after all.

Thankfully, they told him that the worst of the morning sickness should be over now–however, they also said he should be wary of mood swings, which Bucky was definitely not looking forward to.

At the end of the appointment, just as Bucky was walking out of the door, Dr. Zamve handed him a leaflet about the stages of pregnancy and what symptoms to expect.

When Bucky tried to politely reject it, she raised her hand–silencing him.

“Trust me, James. I have had two children of my own, you are going to want this.” Her tone was firm enough to make Bucky take the leaflet, thanking her for her help before scrambling off down the hallway.

Once he made his way out of the building, he let out a shaky sigh. Bucky looked down at the leaflet that way clutched in his metal hand, his mind racing about the insanity of the whole situation, before stuffing it into his jacket pocket.

He walked down the streets of Manhattan, moving much slower than he had on the way to the outreach centre. Maybe, subconsciously, he was doing it so he didn’t have to face the team.

Eventually, he would have to tell them–preferably before he started showing–but he definitely wouldn’t be bothered by waiting as long as possible to suffer through the painful interaction of having to explain to the team how he, a biological male who did not have a vagina, was somehow pregnant.

Bucky glanced at a pharmacy that way across the street, staring at it for a moment before deciding to head in. Once inside, he made a b-line towards the pregnancy tests.

He knew it was stupid, the doctors had already confirmed he was one–hundred percent pregnant, but maybe having physical proof of it would somehow make it more believable.

He snatched the first test he could see off the shelf, startling the tearful teenage girl standing next to him.

“Sorry…” Bucky murmured, glancing at her.

“‘S okay…,” She sniffed. “Are you getting that for your girlfriend? Do you know if it’s a good brand?”

Bucky paused, looking at the girl with wide eyes.

“Yes,” He lied. “It‘s for my girlfriend…Sam. It’s our first time, so I just grabbed the first one that I could see. I don’t know if it’s good.”

The girl nodded. “Congratulations, I’m sure you and your girlfriend will be great parents.”

“I’d tell you the same but something tells me you don’t want to hear that.” The girl laughed wetly at Bucky’s words.

“No, I’m praying that it’s negative. My mom will kill me if it’s not.” The girl spoke.

“I’m sure it will be,” Bucky reassured. “If it helps, I’m scared to death, too.”

“That it’ll be negative?” The girl asked.

“No, the opposite. I don’t know how to be a dad.” Bucky sighed, looking down at the test in his hands.

“I’m sure you’ll be great.” The girl spoke, offering Bucky a kind smile.

He returned the smile, feeling lighter than before. “Thank you.”

The girl nodded, turning to the shelf and grabbing the same test that Bucky had. She gave him one more hopeful look before scurrying off to pay.

Bucky sighed, going to search for a bottle of paracetamol before going to pay as well.

As Bucky was paying for his stuff, he saw the girl exit the pharmacy’s bathroom with a wide smile on her face. She caught sight of Bucky, giving him a thumbs up and mouthing ‘negative’ at him.

He smiled back at her, giving her a thumbs up in return.

As Bucky was making his way back to the watchtower, the pregnancy test in the white plastic bag weighing heavy in his hand, he couldn’t help but think of the girl.

If everything worked out for her, maybe it could work out for him, too.

Chapter Text

This is stupid, Bucky thought as he stared down at the still-boxed pregnancy test resting on top of the bathroom counter.

It had been three days since he’d first been to the doctors appointment at the Wakandan outreach centre and was told the strangest news of his life. Why he’d decided he needed to piss on a piece of plastic to prove that rather than just trust the doctors was beyond him.

The doctors hadn’t told him he didn’t need to take a test, but they also hadn’t told him that he did need to, either. Bucky still felt like he needed to, though. Something deep inside him told him he needed to do this, in a way–it made him feel more normal.

He hadn’t told the team the news yet, he could barely face it himself–let alone tell other people about it. Bucky knew he had to, though. If he didn’t tell the team himself, they’d find it out through means of their own; which would lead to a very awkward confrontation.

Telling the team would also mean having to tell Sam, which would–somehow–be significantly worse. He could hardly even wrap his mind around facing Sam at the moment, it was all just too much.

Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair and gripping the counter top tighter. God, why was he being so weird about this? He already knew what the results of the test would be, so he should just man up and take it.

But God was it difficult. It just felt so odd for him to be doing this, he was taking a fucking pregnancy test for crying out loud! Never in the one-hundred and eleven years he’d been alive had Bucky thought he’d be doing this.

With a shaky sigh, Bucky grabbed the box–tearing it apart until he had the stupid piece of plastic in his hands. Finally, he took the test; slamming it down onto the counter top after he was done and sinking down to the floor.

It might’ve only been a stupid test, but it still felt like the most terrifying thing Bucky had ever done. Even though he’d finally taken the damn test he was still as scared as ever; of the results or of the situation as a whole, Bucky didn’t know. All he knew was that he was scared.

Alpine was resting by his side, constantly trying to make Bucky move his knees away from his chest so she could butt her head against his stomach. She’d been quite infatuated with his abdomen in recent weeks, Bucky didn’t notice it before, but now–now that he knew–he found it kind of adorable; even though it meant acknowledging the thing growing inside of him.

“This is ridiculous, ain’t it?,” Bucky whispered, petting Alpine's back. “Fucking ridiculous…”

Bucky laughed almost manically, bringing his hands up to rest in his hair. He’d probably been waiting long enough for the results of the test to be ready, but ,for some reason, he couldn’t find it in himself to look.

This is stupid, Bucky thought once again, pushing himself up off the floor and walking towards the counter top. He hesitated for a second, standing a few steps away from the counter.

He’d left the test upside down, for some reason, so he didn’t see the results immediately. With a nervous sigh, he reached towards it with shaky hands.

Two lines. There were two lines on the test. 

Positive, obviously.

God, what was Bucky thinking? In some sort of desperate way, Bucky had been silently pleading that the test would be negative. Of course, he wasn’t that lucky. 

He was one-hundred percent, without a doubt, pregnant. The Winter Soldier, the world's most dangerous assassin, was going to have a baby. Was going to have Sam Wilson’s baby.

He couldn’t have a baby, all he did was hurt people–how the hell was he supposed to take care of a baby? He had to be a Father (Mother? He was the one carrying the child after all, so would that make him a mother, despite not being a woman?) to the child of the most perfect person in the world.

He could only pray that the baby turns out like Sam, God knows what he’d do if it turned out like himself.

Bucky threw the test away, scrambling out of the bathroom so quickly that he almost tripped over his own feet. 

Jesus, what was he going to do? He’d joined this team, going against Sam’s wishes, so he could help people; how the hell was he going to do that while pregnant? The thought of losing the baby scared Bucky even more than having it, even though he didn’t want the thing in the first place.

Bucky felt tears burning in the back of his eye, but he didn’t let them fall. He’d be damned if Hydra got any more tears out of him, not after all of these years.

When the doctors had mentioned potential signs of past pregnancies, Bucky felt as though all the blood flowing through his body had turned to ice. He had zero memory of Hydra ever doing anything like that to him, surely if they did, he would’ve remembered it, right?

There were flashes of darkness in his memories of Hydra, time periods that passed like blurs. Bucky assumed that it had something to do with spending so much time in the ice, that somehow it affected his memory more than just the chair did. But now…now he was thinking that maybe Hydra made him forget on purpose. Maybe those flashes of darkness were his past pregnancies, when Hydra forced him to bear children for whatever sick and twisted purposes they had in mind. Bucky doesn't even want to think about how he became pregnant in the first place, or what had happened to the children after.

Bucky took a deep breath, attempting to erase all of the dreadful thoughts from his mind. He didn’t need to think of the past right now, if anything, he needed to think of the future.

He couldn’t keep this secret to himself for much longer, the team had the right to know–Sam had the right to know. He’d tell the team soon, later in the day–when they were back from their mission, but he couldn’t tell Sam. Not yet, not now. 

Bucky needed time to process the situation before he could tell Sam. He didn’t want to pressure him into getting over his distaste towards Bucky just because of the predicament he was in, Sam had the right to be angry and being told the knowledge that he was going to be a father would take away from that.

That didn’t matter right now though, all Bucky had to do now was figure out a way to tell the team that he was expecting a child.

God, this was fucking crazy.

                              ***

“…What do you mean you're pregnant?” Yelena said, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence that had washed over the room since Bucky’s confession.

“I’m going to have a baby,” Bucky murmured, looking down at the floor of the common room instead of at the team who were seated on the couch and armchairs in front of him. “Do you not know what pregnant means?”

“Of course I know what pregnant means!,” Yelena spat back. “I just don’t know how you are pregnant!”

Bucky rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, I am.”

“How is this even possible, Barnes?” John asked, a baffled look on his face.

“Hydra. The doctors said that they either put the…parts there or they were already there, and Hydra altered them to make–,” Bucky gestured to his stomach. “–This, possible.”

“Well, how far along are you?” Ava asked, seeming more open to the idea of Bucky being pregnant than the rest of the team.

“Eight weeks, going on nine now.”

The room fell silent once again, but only for a moment before Yelena was raving once again.

“So, you were pregnant when we were fighting the Void?,” Bob flushed red in embarrassment at the mention of the Void. “And, what, you didn’t know?”

“No, Yelena. I didn’t know,” Bucky shot back. “I didn’t even know I could get pregnant, let alone that I was.”

“Do you know who the father is?,” Ava asked. “The other father, I mean. Assuming that how you, yknow…” she waved her hand at his stomach.

Bucky felt his face flush at the question, God, he wished people would stop asking about Sam–even if they didn’t know that they were.

“Yes.” He murmured, twiddling the bottom of his shirt around his vibranium fingers.

“Is it Sam?” John immediately asked, causing the rest of the room to break out in words of agreement.

“Wha–how did you–,” Bucky bumbled, his eyes darting back and forth between the team. “That’s none of your business…”

“Ah, congratulations, Mr. Soldier!,” Alexei shouted, clapping his hands together and startling everyone else. “You are bearing the child of Captain America, a wonderful blessing to the world! Did I ever tell you of the time I fought the old Captain America…”

Alexei continued babbling on about god knows what, causing Yelena to groan in frustration.

“Are you going to tell him?,” Bob asked quietly, so that no one else but Bucky would hear. “About the baby?”

Bucky sighed, blinking tears out of his eyes at the thought of facing Sam. “I will, eventually.”

Bob nodded, trying to silently comfort Bucky as much as possible. Bucky appreciated it, but still felt just as overwhelmed as before.

“So, what do we do now?,” John asked. “About the team and what not.”

“You guys can keep doing what we were doing before, but I’m not going on missions with you,” Bucky said. “I can’t risk it.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, Bucky was grateful for how understanding the team was being even though the whole situation was so difficult for anyone to comprehend. 

Bucky felt lighter than he did before, as though a heavy weight had been lifted off his chest. It felt good to be able to share his situation with other people who weren’t doctors, even if they weren’t the person he wanted to tell the most.

Yelena sighed, running a hand through her hair. “You got any idea what you’re gonna do now? About–” she gestured to Bucky’s stomach. “–All this?”

“Not really,” Bucky chuckled. “I’m just as confused as any of you are about this, and, quite frankly, I’m fucking terrified.”

Bucky felt a wetness hit his cheek and when he raised his flesh hand up he was horrified to realise that he was crying. God, as if this situation couldn’t get any worse now he was crying in front of everyone.

Bucky felt a large hand clasp on his back, when he looked up he saw Alexei standing by his side with a warm expression on his face.

“Do not worry, Mr. Soldier. We will be by your side through all of this,” Alexei reassured. “Won’t we, New Avengers!”

“Of course we will, right, team?” Bob agreed, turning towards the others.

Yelena, Ava, and John all let out noises of agreement, causing Bob to smile widely. Bucky had a sneaking suspicion that they were all still confused by the whole situation, but he appreciated their support nonetheless.

“Thanks, guys,” Bucky sniffed, whipping away his tears. “But if you tell anyone about this, I assure you–no one will ever find your bodies.”

Yelena and Ava chuckled, and John rolled his eyes. Bucky hardly noticed Bob's frightened expression over Alexei’s booming laughter in his ear. He felt somewhat guilty about making Bob feel scared, but not enough for him to dwell on it.

“Wait, will you be raising the baby here?” Yelena asked. “Because you totally should. We would be amazing roll–models!”

John scrunched up his nose in a way that told Bucky that he did not agree. Ava hummed in agreement as Bob's eyes widened in joy. Alexei launched into a rant about being able to ‘teach the child the true ways of the motherland!’ Or something, but Bucky cut him off.

“Absolutely not.” Bucky said, ignoring everyone’s following protests.

The conversation continued entirely one sided, with the team attempting to convince Bucky to raise the baby in the tower instead of some place else, and Bucky refusing every time. 

The interaction lasted another twenty minutes or so before people began getting bored and slowly filtered out of the room. Bucky didn’t leave however, taking a seat on the couch with Alpine by his side as Bob and Yelena put some random movie on. 

Yelena didn’t stay for long, scurrying off to her room after only around a quarter of the way into the movie. She was practically falling asleep on the couch, so it made sense that she decided to head to bed.

Bob stuck around, gently petting Alpine on the back of her head. The whole team had grown fond of Alpine, and she’d grown to like them in return. She wasn’t entirely happy, though–she missed Sam (and his cat, Figaro) maybe even more than Bucky did.

“So,” Bob spoke, causing Bucky to turn away from the TV to glance at him. “How are you feeling?”

“How’d you think?” Bucky chuckled. “I’m okay, right now at least. It doesn’t feel like there's something growing inside of me, but I’m sure that won’t last.”

“It must be strange,” Bob wondered aloud. “Having something happen to you that you didn’t even think was possible…”

“I’m sure you can relate,” Bucky said. “Turning into some sort of shadow demon out of nowhere, I doubt you knew that could happen.”

Bob laughed quietly, shrugging his shoulders. “I guess, but it’s not really the same.”

“Maybe not,” Bucky answered. “You started turning people into shadows and I’m pregnant, I’m sure there’s some correlation there.”

“You scared?” Bob asked, turning to face Bucky. 

“About having a baby?,” Bob nodded. “Of course I am, I have no fucking idea how to be a parent. But I’m gonna try, gonna try and give the little sucker the best life I can.”

“I’m sure you’ll be great, Bucky,” Bob reassured. “But you don’t have to do this alone.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky murmured. “You guys will be with me every step of the way.”

Bob paused for a moment, glancing away from Bucky to look at the floor. 

“I wasn’t talking about the team,” He whispered. “I was talking about Sam…”

Bucky froze, suppressing the urge to squeeze his eyes shut. Obviously Bob was talking about Sam, the goddamn father of his child. Deep down, Bucky knew that if he did tell Sam about the baby then he’d drop everything, all of his Captain America business and anger towards Bucky to be there for him and the child in a second.

Bucky didn’t want to drop that responsibility on Sam out of nowhere, especially due to the fact that they hadn’t spoken in over a month. He loved Sam, more than anything–and, hopefully, deep down, Sam felt the same for him. But that didn’t mean they needed to raise a child together; it just wasn’t fair on Sam. 

He’d only been Captain America for a few years, and Bucky didn’t want to take that role away from him just because his stupid past had ended them up in this predicament. He would have to tell him eventually, though; even if Sam didn’t want anything to do with Bucky or the baby (which he had every right not to want), he still had the right to know.

“I don’t know, kid,” Bucky sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’ll talk to Sam soon, I swear.”

By the way that Bob was looking at him, Bucky could tell that didn’t buy it for a second. Whatever, it didn’t matter; Bob didn’t need to believe him, honestly–deep down–Bucky wasn’t sure he even believed himself.

The topic was dropped after that, with Bucky deciding that it was too late to be talking about this stuff anymore and leaving Bob in the common room with a ‘goodnight’. Bob probably wouldn’t be in bed for another few hours or so, despite it being past midnight; he always stayed up far too late, but Bucky didn’t comment on it–it wasn’t any of his business, after all.

Once he made it to his room, he collapsed down onto the mattress, sighing. The whole day, week, month even had been easily the strangest of Bucky’s life.

As he stripped down to his boxers and settled against the bed, he glanced down at his stomach. It was so odd to think that there was a person growing inside there, let alone a child–his child.

Bucky was still completely baffled by the fact, but he wasn’t as scared anymore. Obviously, he was still terrified…but, in a way, he was looking forward to the whole experience.

Nine whole months of carrying a baby in his body. Nine whole months of never being alone. For Bucky, that sounded like a dream. Plus, once those nine months were over, he’d have a child. His very own baby, that shared blood with both him and Sam.

In a way, this would be the worst experience of Bucky’s life. But in a way, it would be the best.

Chapter Text

It had been a month since Bucky first found out that he was pregnant, and, all things considered, he was doing fine.

The rest of his first trimester had passed by uneventfully. Well, except for the few times he’d broken down in the common room over the smallest of things. He wasn’t too bothered by it, even if the rest of the team was.

It’s not every day you see the Winter Soldier break down into tears at breakfast over them being out of orange juice.

Bucky had quickly learned not to be embarrassed about the mood swings or anything of the sorts. He couldn’t help it, after all. No one pointed it out anymore, not after Bucky had almost cracked John’s skull open for asking why he was so emotional. He deserved it, anyways.

Over the course of the month, Bucky noticed that the muscle around his stomach had softened significantly. It wasn’t to the point that it was obvious, but when Bucky turned to his side when his shirt was off–he could see the faint bump of the baby in his abdomen. The sight always made Bucky grin like a madman.

It wasn’t all good though, the sight also made Bucky fear for the future. What was he going to do when his bump couldn’t be hidden by a loose fitting t-shirt? Was he supposed to just act like he looked normal and not like some type of freak? There was no way in hell he was doing that. 

There was also the Sam problem. Not that Sam in himself was a problem, not at all. More that Bucky was somewhat unintentionally putting off talking to him more and more. It seems that every day that passed, Bucky would just tell himself ‘I’ll speak to Sam tomorrow’ and then wouldn’t. 

He knew that he should speak to Sam, in the long run it would be better for him, Sam and the baby; but it was just so…difficult. Bucky was already overwhelmed by his sporadic mood swings and his ever changing body, he didn’t need to add a complicated relationship on top of that.

“Just call him,” Yelena groaned, sick and tired of Bucky’s silent longing. “Sam Wilson is a good man, nothing bad is going to come out of talking to him.”

“It’s complicated, Yelena.” Bucky sighed, running a hand over his face and attempting to sink further into the couch he was laying on.

It was only him, Bob and Yelena in the tower right now. Until around a week ago, it would be only Bob and Bucky in the tower when the team went on missions. Unfortunately, a pregnant super soldier and a, no offence Bob, emotional wreck who was quite frankly terrified of said pregnant super soldier were not exactly a stable match. 

Bucky liked Bob, he liked that he was quiet and kept to himself; however, whenever he was having one of his mood swings Bucky didn’t like anyone. 

The whole thing culminated when Bucky was at his wits end, his head pounding from lack of sleep due to the thing growing in his stomach constantly making him need to pee in the middle of the goddamn night, and Bob asked him if he was okay. 

Bucky isn’t ashamed to admit that he did somewhat overreact, grabbing the closest thing to him (which just so happened to be a mug) and launching it in Bob's direction. Bucky had apologised profusely for his outburst, almost driving himself to tears with guilt.

Bob seemed to be fine about it, telling Bucky not to stress over it–and that it wasn’t his fault. However, when Bucky told Yelena about the incident she insisted on staying in the tower with them so that, quote, Bucky wouldn’t ’kill someone with his grouchy pregnant super soldier–ness.’ Bucky didn’t take much offence to it, he knew Yelena was just spouting bullshit so she could get out of going on missions.

“It’s always ‘complicated’!,” Yelena raved, drawing Bucky out of his thoughts. “I swear, that’s all you ever say!”

“Well, it’s the truth,” Bucky replied, sitting up on the couch. “Sorry that you children don’t understand, but these adult things are complicated.”

Bucky smiled to himself hearing Bob's small laugh and Yelena’s scoff of ‘Childern’. He liked spending time at the tower with the both of them, he felt less stressed when he was with other people–and the doctors said that it was good for the baby–also, it somewhat made him feel more prepared for being a parent. They were, as Bucky had said, like children.

“Yelena is right, Bucky,” Bob added quietly. “You should probably call him.”

Bucky sighed, running a hand over his face. They were both right; realistically, Bucky should call Sam. But he couldn’t, not yet at least.

“I will, I promise,” Bucky murmured, standing up from the couch. “I have an appointment now, I’ll call him after.”

Bob and Yelena looked up at him with a weak smile and an angry glare, respectively. Bucky rolled his eyes at them, trailing out of the room to get ready for his appointment.

Over the last month, Bucky had been to two more appointments at the Wakandan outreach centre. The first one was about two weeks after the appointment where Bucky had first found out he was pregnant, it was just a regular check up appointment that Dr. Oskia said he would get used to it in no time. 

The appointment passed by smoothly, it was mostly Bucky and Dr. Oskia discussing his symptoms and if they’d gotten any worse/better. There was no need for any ultrasounds or needles that time, thank god. The only noticeable thing that happened was when Bucky ran into Dr. Zamve again on his way out, he found out that she was not only a doctor–but also a therapist.

She was on the way out of an appointment with one of her clients when she caught a glimpse of Bucky. They got to talking and both decided that it would be better for Bucky to have somewhat regular therapy sessions over the course of his pregnancy, as well as his regular doctors appointments of course.

They’d only had one session together so far, and they spent most of it talking over things that would make therapy more bearable for Bucky. Bucky was…cautious of the idea of therapy at first, but after explaining to Dr. Zamve how his past government-mandated therapy had gone, she promised her sessions would be nothing like that; so Bucky agreed to come back for more.

That’s where he was heading today, to his second (technically first actual) therapy session. He wasn’t really nervous for it, not like he was for the medical appointment. 

He knew that the sessions would be better for him, and therefore better for the baby, plus it was pretty good having someone you could talk to about just about anything. 

Bucky grabbed his jacket, pulling it on and walking out the door; setting off towards the Wakandan outreach centre once again.

                            ***

“It’s good to see you again, James,” Dr. Zamve spoke, watching as Bucky settled down into the couch across from her. “I hope you’ve been well.”

“As well as I can be, Doc.” Bucky chuckled.

Dr. Zamve smiled at him, crossing one of her legs over the other. “That’s good,” She replied “Was there anything in particular you wanted to talk about today?”

Bucky sighed, thinking to himself. He hadn’t really thought about what exactly he wanted to talk about in the sessions. Obviously, there were things that were stressing him out–but he could barely think about them himself without freaking out, let alone talk to someone else about them.

“I don’t know,” Bucky said, shifting slightly on the couch. “The baby, I guess?”

Dr. Zamve nodded, tapping the top of her pen against the notepad she had in hand. Bucky wasn’t annoyed by the notepad like he was with Dr. Raynor; maybe it’s because these notes weren’t being shared with the government.

“That’s a good place to start,” She replied, relaxing slightly. “So, James. It’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable with talking about this, but in your first appointment you mentioned the father of your child? Would you like to talk about him?”

Bucky froze, somewhat shocked that Dr. Zamve had opened up with a question about Sam. He’d never really talked to anyone about his relationship with Sam, at least not in the context of them being in a relationship. Obviously he’d talked to the team about Sam, well mostly they’d talked to him about Sam; constantly telling him to get back in contact with him and tell him about the goddamn baby. Jesus, it seemed like that was all anyone talked about anymore. Just, baby, baby, baby! In some selfish way, Bucky was getting kind of sick of it.

“Uh, sure,” Bucky mumbled. “He was–we were…dating, for around two years. It was good, real good; we spent a lot of time down in Louisiana with his family, I loved it–I loved him. He was probably the first person I’ve ever fallen in love with. Then–something happened.”

Bucky took a deep, shuddering breath. “I…did something, something that fucked up our relationship for good. He left, and I haven’t seen him since; or talked to him at that. Sam’s the nicest person I’ve ever met, so I'm sure that he’d be cool with the, yknow, baby. But…I just don’t know how to tell him…”

“Sam?” Dr. Zamve questioned, looking up from her notepad to make eye contact with Bucky. “Was that your boyfriend?”

Bucky felt his face flush intensely from her words. Shit, he hadn’t meant to say Sam’s name! Dr. Zamve might’ve had a calm and professional look on her face, but something about the small sparkle in her eyes told Bucky that she knew exactly what Sam he was referring to.

“Are you going to tell anyone?” Bucky gulped, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“Of course not, James,” She chuckled. “That would be illegal.”

Bucky snorted quietly, relaxing slightly. “Thank you,” he said. “It’s not exactly something people…need to know.”

Dr. Zamve nodded in agreement, smiling at Bucky in a way that reassured him that she wasn’t going to tell anyone.

“So, you and…Sam–are not together anymore?,” Bucky nodded, frowning. “Does he know about the baby?”

Bucky turned his gaze away from hers, looking down at the floor and sighing. “…no, not yet at least.”

He knew that it wasn’t good that he hadn’t told Sam about the baby yet, after all it was his child too; even if Bucky was the one carrying it in his body for nine months and dealing with all of the physical repercussions of that. He just–he really didn’t want to burden Sam with this responsibility. Sam needed to be out there, saving people, not dealing with Bucky and his weird, fucked up body. 

“Do you think it would be better if you did?” Dr. Zamve asked.

“I do,” Bucky replied, leaning backwards against the couch. “I want to tell him–I’m going to, it’s just…difficult.”

Dr. Zamve nodded,writing something down on her notepad. After a moment, she put the pen down, looking back up at Bucky.

“It’s very difficult,” she agreed. “But I think that talking to him would make you feel better, less stressed. If you believe that Sam is a good man, then I’m sure he will support you through the pregnancy and afterwards; you’ll feel much better if you aren’t going through this alone.”

Dr. Zamve was right, all Bucky had ever thought about since he found out he was pregnant was Sam. Talking to Sam, finally telling him about the baby–it would make the weight on Bucky’s shoulders significantly lighter. 

Sam was a good man, the best Bucky had ever known; there was no way he’d just abandon his child because he and Bucky weren’t on the best of terms. Of course, it was still beyond stressful to think about–but it wouldn’t be if Bucky faced his fears and just…talked to him.

“Okay,” Bucky nodded. “Okay, I’ll talk to him.”

Dr. Zamve smiled at him and, for once, Bucky felt as though someone finally actually believed his words. Every time he’d told someone that he was going to talk to Sam, they always looked as though they didn’t believe him.

It wasn’t that his words weren’t true, he did intend to talk to Sam–eventually. He just…maybe didn’t fully believe himself. Bucky usually tended to avoid conflict rather than face it head on.

The rest of the session passed by normally, with Dr. Zamve deciding to stick to more lighter topics for the rest of it. Bucky, in a strange way, actually found himself enjoying talking with Dr. Zamve; and he honestly felt better for it. She was kind and calming, everything that Dr. Raynor hadn’t been, and Bucky found that he much appreciated it.

As Bucky made his way out of the centre after saying his goodbyes to Dr. Zamve and promising to be back in a fortnight, he realised he actually felt better.

Being able to discuss his problems with a licensed professional actually made him feel better than he had before. Bucky had never imagined he’d ever enjoy therapy, but he’s glad he was wrong.

He just hoped that it was enough to actually make him talk to Sam.

                             ***

Sitting on his bed as the sun set over New York, Bucky realised that, despite feeling better once he’d left therapy, he still wasn’t ready to talk to Sam. Not at all.

But he’d made a promise, to both the team and Dr. Zamve; so he didn’t really have a choice.

Bucky had been debating on how to go about it for the last hour or so, and so far he hadn’t really gotten anywhere. Yelena and Bob had told him to call Sam, which could go one of two ways.

One, Sam didn’t pick up the phone at all and Bucky had to find some other way to get in contact with him.

Or two, Sam did pick up the phone and Bucky had to figure out a semi–normal way to tell him he was pregnant with his child.

Both weren’t good options, but Bucky didn’t really have much room to complain. It was his own fault he was in this predicament in the first place, anyways. He told the team of his intentions of talking to Sam, preferably tonight, in the hopes that they’d give him some advice; of course, he was wrong.

“Maybe you should do one of those Pinterest–esque pregnancy reveals,” John suggested, shrugging. “That’s what Olivia did.”

“No.” Bucky replied. He’d recently been introduced to Pinterest by Yelena, Bob, and Ava; and compared to other social media’s, it was pretty good. Bucky liked finding pictures of cute cat accessories for Alpine, even though she’d never wear any of them.

“You should sing!” Yelena exclaimed suddenly, almost startling Bucky. “Like in Glee!”

“I don’t know what that is and–Why would I sing?” Bucky sighed, rubbing a finger against his temple in frustration.

“You’re all ridiculous,” Ava groaned. “Just call him, for god sakes. Or better yet, tell him in person!”

Huh, Bucky thought, She’s probably right. Meeting up with Sam in person would probably be the best way to tell him about the baby. It’d still be more difficult than just talking to Sam on the phone, but it’d probably be for the better in the long run.

“You’re right, Ava,” Bucky nodded, not missing the smirk that formed on Ava’s face. “Thank you.”

Bucky didn’t stick around to hear the team break out into an argument about how their ideas were better, walking off towards his room. He was so lost in his mind, thinking about how to talk to Sam, that he almost tripped over Alpine.

She meowed angrily at him, scurrying off down the hall to go and hide somewhere around the tower. Bucky made a mental note to apologise to her later with treats, she’d probably forgive him if food was involved.

As Bucky entered his room, he reached over to the drawer besides his bed where his phone was resting. Scrolling through the contacts list on his phone, Bucky began stressing out once again.

There was a high chance that Sam wouldn’t even answer, and Bucky wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. In the whole time they’d been apart, Bucky hadn’t tried to contact Sam once; Sam hadn’t tried to contact him either, but Bucky wasn’t too bothered by that.

Before he even realised it, Bucky was clicking on Sam’s contact and the ringing noise of a call being made was filling his ears. Bucky held his breath, looking down at his phone as it continued ringing.

After a moment, the call was answered.

There was a beat of silence in the seconds after it went through, until Sam spoke.

“Bucky…?” Sam said, his voice laced with confusion.

“Sam.” Bucky breathed out before he could stop himself.

Hearing Sam’s voice for the first time in three months felt like opening his eyes for the first time. God, Bucky didn’t realise how much he missed the sound of Sam’s warm, honey tongue until he heard it again. It was as though nothing had ever happened, like he’d last heard Sam mere minutes ago rather than three months–every thought that wasn’t Sam vanished from his mind, the team, therapy, the baby, it was like none of them existed–only Sam.

“What do you want, Barnes?”  Sam calling Bucky by his last name made him flinch with sadness.

Sam hadn’t called him ‘Barnes’ since the whole civil war fiasco, almost ten years ago now. Sam hated him then, and he wasn’t scared to admit it; Bucky hadn’t felt the same, in some way he’d fallen in love with Sam the first time he’d ever laid eyes on him. Sam hardly called him ‘Bucky’ most of the time, calling him baby or sugar instead.

“I…,” Bucky started, mentally debating with himself on what to say. “I…need to talk to you.”

“You need to talk to me?,” Sam scoffed. “You lost your chance to do that when you joined the ‘New Avengers’.”

Bucky winced internally at Sam’s harsh words. Sam never really…fought with him. There was never any yelling or cruelty, they would just talk. If either of them had any problems (meaning if Sam had any problems or noticed if Bucky did) they’d talk about it, and it worked. 

It worked, until Bucky joined the team–and Sam was tired of just talking. It was probably the first time Bucky had ever heard Sam yell, at least the first time in their relationship that was.

“Please, Sam,” Bucky pleaded. “This is important.”

“Really?,” Bucky could almost hear Sam’s eye roll. “Because if this is some bullshit about our relationship, then I don’t wanna hear it. You fucked that up for good.”

The words seeped deeply into Bucky’s skin, coursing through his veins like poison. “It’s not,” Bucky murmured. “It’s not about that.”

Bucky heard Sam over the line, he sounded exasperated by Bucky’s words. 

“Then tell me, Barnes,” Sam said through gritted teeth. “What’s the reason you called me, after all this time?”

“Can we meet in person?” Bucky asked. “It would be better if I told you to your face.”

“I don’t wanna see you–,” Sam started.

“I know you don’t,” Bucky cut him off. “But you’ll want to hear this Sam, I need you to hear this…”

“What the hell is so important that you ’need’ to tell me?” Sam questioned, with a concerned tone that went unnoticed by Bucky.

Bucky felt silent, unable to explain why talking to Sam in person was so important without giving the answer away. Telling Sam over the phone wouldn’t be fair, plus he couldn’t hang up on Bucky if they were talking in person.

“Please, Sam,” Bucky begged. “Please, just meet me and let me tell you this. Then you never have to see me again, ever.”

Bucky barely got the words out through the lump in his throat. It was so difficult to admit, but if Sam never wanted to see him again–Bucky would accept it. He hoped so badly that Sam was the good man he thought he was, that he’d stick around; if not for Bucky, then for the baby.

“Fine,” Sam groaned, defeated. “I’ll meet you, tomorrow; and it has to be in public.”

Bucky couldn’t even get out a response before Sam was speaking once again. “This better be worth it, Bucky.”

The next thing he heard was the beeping of the line being cut off. Bucky slumped against the headboard of his bed, dropping the phone down onto the mattress.

He could hardly believe that Sam answered, and that he agreed to meet with Bucky in person. A notification sound from his phone drew Bucky out of his thoughts. It was a message from Sam.

All the message read was the name of some low–key cafe in Manhattan, but Bucky understood the meaning clearly. It was where Sam wanted to meet up. It was nerve–wracking and somewhat crushing that Sam only wanted to meet up if it was in public. Nerve wracking because Bucky would have to tell Sam that he was pregnant in public with people around to possibly overhear, and soul crushing because it meant that Sam didn't trust him enough to be alone with him. Either way, it wasn’t great.

It was something, though; and, right now, that was all that mattered. If meeting with Sam, no matter how stressful the circumstances, meant that their baby would grow up with two parents and not one–it was worth it.

It would forever be worth it.

Chapter Text

Sitting in a densely populated cafe on the outskirts of Manhattan, waiting for his ex–boyfriend to arrive so that he could tell him he was pregnant was something Bucky never thought he’d be doing; and yet here he was.

He hadn’t been waiting for long, only ten minutes or so–but it was still nerve racking nonetheless. Bucky knew that Sam would come, he wasn’t the type of person to lead someone on like that. But something deep inside him was still nervous that he wouldn’t.

Bucky had tried not to think about how their conversation would go as he was making his way to the cafe, but it was impossible not to. He had no idea how he was going to explain to Sam how he was pregnant without sounding like a lunatic.

The doctors had managed to explain it to him well enough, but Bucky wasn’t a doctor; he was a nervous wreck. He couldn’t just pull out random medical terms to give reason to why he, a biological male, was fucking pregnant. Hell, the doctors still didn’t fully understand how he was pregnant, let alone Bucky himself.

Bucky ran his fingers through his hair, burying his face in his hands. Sometimes, he wished he never met Sam in the first place; but then he’d never have some of the happiest moments of his life, and he’d be entirely alone.

Steve may have been his best friend, but Sam was his first love–his only love. From the first moment he’d laid eyes on Sam, as himself–not as the Solider, he’d thought he was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. He still did; even after the years that had passed since their meeting, Bucky had never seen anyone more beautiful than Sam.

Bucky tried not to think about the baby too much, forcing his mind to drift to anything else instead. If he focused too hard on the child growing inside of him, in a selfish way–he’d begin to hate it. But then he’d snap out of it and begin to hate himself. The baby deserved better than him, Bucky wasn’t made to be a parent–he was made to be a soldier, a killer. He couldn’t be gentle or patient, he couldn’t be anything a real parent was supposed to be.

Sam would be a real parent, though. He could be everything that the child needed, everything that Bucky wasn’t. If Sam agreed to be in the baby’s life, Bucky’s best option would be leaving their child to be raised by him instead. They’d be better off without Bucky, anyways. 

Even the possibility of Bucky somehow accidentally hurting their child was enough to make him abandon every thought of ever being a parent. If he hurt the baby, if he–if something happened to the baby, God, Bucky didn’t even want to think about it. He’d never be able to forgive himself; hell, he probably wouldn’t be able to live with it.

Sam would be the best parent. He was so good with Sarah’s children, his nephews–Bucky could only imagine how good he would be with a child of his own. 

Bucky found himself frowning at the thought of Sarah, Aj and Cass; the possibility that his child could grow up in a family as great as Sam’s was everything that Bucky would ever want for them. If Sam wanted nothing to do with the baby, they’d grow up alone–never knowing their other father, their aunt or their cousins. 

Something inside of Bucky was also somewhat saddened by the reality that his child would never know his family. That they’d never know Bucky’s parents or sisters; a whole side of their family who they’d only ever know through stories. Stories that Bucky could hardly remember, due to the suffering he’d endured under Hydra's control, and them being from so long ago.

Of course, if Bucky did somehow manage to see his family again–explaining to a group of people from the 1940s how he was pregnant wouldn’t exactly be easy. It was just wishful thinking, though; he didn’t actually want to see his family again, it would just be nice if his baby got to know them.

Bucky was drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of someone sitting down in the chair across from him, and, when he looked up, his eyes met Sam’s.

God was it good seeing Sam’s face again; being able to look directly into his deep, warm eyes that just felt like home. He hoped so desperately that their child would have those eyes.

“Sam…” Bucky breathed out, unable to tear his gaze away from Sam.

“Barnes,” Sam spoke, his voice laced with anger. “Tell me what you wanted to, I haven’t got all day.”

“It’s good to see you.” Bucky said, ignoring Sam’s harsh command.

Sam just stared at him with heated eyes, as though he was trying to pierce Bucky’s soul with his gaze. Bucky glanced away, looking down at where his fingers were intertwined with each other atop of the table.

“I…,” Bucky sighed shakily. “I don’t really know how to say this…”

“Spit it out, Barnes.” Sam spat.

Bucky took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. It was so difficult to get the words out, knowing the plethora of questions that would follow. Bucky might’ve been working up to this conversation for months at this point, but it was still as difficult as he thought it would be.

“I’m…,” Bucky whispered so quietly that Sam could barely hear. “…pregnant.”

It felt as though all the noise in the room had drained in a second, leaving everything basking in the silence of Bucky’s confession. Bucky kept his eyes shut, not wanting to see the, undoubtedly, shocked and confused look on Sam’s face.

“You’re a fucking asshole, Bucky.” Sam scoffed, moving to stand up from the table.

Bucky reached forward, grabbing Sam’s arm to keep him sitting. “Please, Sam. Let me explain.”

Sam yanked his arms away, but stayed seated. He stared Bucky down with fire in his eyes, looking as if he was about to slap Bucky across the face and walk out of the cafe at any moment.

“What’s there to explain, Barnes,” Sam hissed. “You’re not fucking pregnant.”

“I know it sounds crazy, but I am,” Bucky whispered shakily, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I’d show you the test but I got rid of it right after I took it.”

Sam’s expression faltered slightly, signaling that he was starting to believe Bucky in a way; or at least Bucky hoped that he was. He didn’t blame Sam for not believing him, the words sounded insane coming out of Bucky’s mouth–even though he, obviously, knew it to be the truth.

“What are you talking about, Bucky?,” Sam questioned, sounding thoroughly confused. “This–that’s not possible.”

“I know it’s not possible,” Bucky sighed. “But I am. The doctors still aren’t too sure how exactly it works, but they’re getting closer to figuring it out every day. They said that I might’ve been born with the…parts to–yknow, or they could’ve been put there, either way, they think that Hydra altered my body in a way to make all of this possible.”

“Wha–,” Sam spoke, exasperated. “Why are you telling me this, Bucky?”

“Sam,” Bucky responded, calming his voice to get the point across to Sam. “I think you know why.”

The expression on Sam’s face shifted from confusion to realisation. Bucky held his breath as Sam met his eyes once more.

“It’s mine?,” Sam asked, leaning towards Bucky across the table slightly. “The baby’s mine?”

Bucky nodded, watching as Sam’s eyes filled with…joy? That was strange, Sam wasn’t supposed to be happy about this. He was supposed to be angry, yelling at Bucky for putting him in a situation like this. For being a freak who could never just live normally, who had to go and get fucking pregnant because of Nazi experimentation.

“You’re serious?,” Sam asked, a smile slowly crawling onto his face. “We’re gonna have a baby?”

“I know this is a lot to process–,” Bucky started but Sam cut him off.

“Are you kidding me, Bucky?,” Sam laughed, running a hand over his face. “I’m gonna be a dad.”

Bucky stared at Sam’s face, beyond confused by his joyful reaction. He’d expected many things from this conversation, but he definitely didn’t expect this.

“You’re…happy about this?” Bucky asked slowly, making sure that Sam understood all of his words.

“Of course I am, Bucky,” Sam chuckled, reaching forward to take Bucky’s hands in his own. “This is…probably the best news I’ve ever gotten.”

Bucky’s jaw was on the floor at this point, he was completely baffled by everything that was happening. All he could do was focus on the feeling of Sam’s hands holding his own; god, he’d missed this feeling. 

“But…you hate me…” Bucky spoke, looking down at the table instead of at Sam.

Sam squeezed his hands tighter in a comforting gesture. “I don’t hate you, Bucky. I could never hate you. Sure, I was mad at you–hell I still am a little bit–but I don’t hate you.”

“I wanna be here for you, Buck,” Sam continued. “For you, and for the baby.”

Bucky fought back his tears, but it was to no avail. He felt a wetness trail down his cheek, choking back a sob at the overwhelming emotion that was flowing through his body. 

If his emotions were bad enough before, from mood swings and the like, they were a hundred times more intense now. Sam always brought out such powerful things in Bucky, for better and for worse.

“Thank you, Sam.” Bucky choked out, suppressing a sob. 

“Of course, Bucky,” Sam comforted. “You don’t gotta go through this alone.”

Bucky nodded, reaching his free hand up to wipe away his tears. He’d cried more in the last month than he probably had in his entire life. God, this child was going to be the death of him.

“I get if you don’t want to be with me,” Bucky spoke after a few minutes of silence. “You have every right to be pissed at me.”

Sam sighed, causing Bucky to finally look up at him again. “We don’t need to worry about that right now,” Sam spoke. “Let’s just get through this first, then we can talk about it–okay?”

Bucky nodded in agreement. Sam was right, their relationship wasn’t what mattered right now–all that mattered was the baby. Deep down though, Bucky hoped that–somehow–they’d come together once more. But Sam was still mad, obviously; and there was hardly a chance that he’d ever want to be with Bucky again.

“What are we gonna do about this, Sam?,” Bucky asked. “We’re both superheroes for god sakes, how are we supposed to raise a child?”

Sam sighed, tapping his fingers against the table in thought. “I don’t know, Bucky. But we’ll figure out something,” Sam spoke. “Did you have any ideas? On how you want to go about this?”

“I know I don’t want to raise a child in the Watchtower, that’s for sure.” Sam chuckled at Bucky’s words, causing him to smile.

“You could come down to Washington, stay with me and Torres. At least until the baby’s born,” Sam offered. “How far along are you anyway?”

“Three months now.” Bucky replied.

“That adds up,” Sam chuckled. “God, I still remember that like it was yesterday. You really did a number on me.”

Bucky blushed at the memory, wanting to sink down into the floor from embarrassment. Sam was right, though–Bucky did do a number on him; and, god, was it good. Neither of them had been able to move a muscle afterwards, too sore from Bucky’s desperate desire.

“Maybe I should go live with you in Washington,” Bucky said, changing the subject. “It would be better if I was in a less…busy environment.”

“You said something about doctors? Do they work in New York?” Sam asked.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, at the Wakandan outreach centre,” he said. “They’re great.”

“You have monthly appointments?,” Bucky nodded. “Yeah, that’s what Sarah had, too. We can drive up whenever you have them, I’m sure we’ll make it work.”

Bucky suddenly thought of the team. Between all the talking with Sam and his own crazy thoughts, Bucky hadn’t considered how they’d feel about this. Sure, having one less grouchy, pregnant super–soldier hanging around would be a benefit in the long run, but Bucky had grown to like the team–and he didn’t really want to leave.

“What about my–uh, team…?” Bucky asked, fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt.

“What about them?” Sam replied, his tone becoming a little less happy.

“I know you don’t like them Sam but–they’re good people,” Bucky explained. “I’ve grown close with them and…I guess they kind of feel like my family. I don’t wanna just leave them…”

“It’s not that I don’t like them,” Sam sighed. “I just don’t like their name, or the fact they're under the control of Valentina.”

“I don’t like those things, either.” Bucky agreed, meeting Sam’s eyes. “I’ll talk to them about that, I swear.”

“Alright,” Sam spoke. “But even if you don’t, we can visit them whenever you wish, Baby. If that’s what you want.”

Baby, Bucky thought. Hearing that one, perfect word fall from Sam’s mouth once again was probably the best Bucky and felt since–well, since they broke up. 

“I have an appointment in a few days, if you want to come…?” Bucky offered, hoping desperately that Sam agreed.

“‘Course, Buck,” Sam smiled. “I’ll be there whenever you need me to.”

Bucky smiled back at Sam in return, thinking about how he thought that meeting with Sam was a bad idea before this; god, he was so wrong. Bucky was beyond grateful that Sam was so damn understanding and supportive about all of this.

Sam’s reaction had made Bucky so much more calm that he was actually looking forward to the rest of his pregnancy. Maybe being a parent wasn’t so bad after all…

                             ***

As Bucky entered back into the tower after his reunion with Sam, he was immediately greeted by Yelena bombarding him with questions.

“Did you do it? Did you tell him?,” Yelena asked, her mouth moving so quickly that Bucky could barely understand her. “How did he react? Did he–.”

“Yelena! Calm down!” Bucky laughed, causing Yelena to fall silent and pout at him.

Bucky moved forward through the tower's common room, sitting down next to Bob on the couch. Ava was there too, although she didn’t seem to be interested in anything that was happening.

“I did talk to him, yeah.” Bucky finally answered, unable to keep the smile off his face.

“What did he say?” Bob asked, seemingly as eager as Yelena was; although he was at least trying to make it seem like he wasn’t.

“He was happy,” Bucky replied. “Real happy.”

“Really…?” Ava said from across the room.

Bucky nodded. “But…he did say that he wanted me to talk about the name.”

Bucky expected everyone in the room to be mad about it, but instead it just seemed like they were annoyed; well, Ava and Yelena were annoyed, Bob didn’t seem to care about it at all. 

“Ugh, is he still talking about that?,” Yelena groaned. “We don’t care about the stupid name, he can have it if he wants. It’s Valentina who’s responsible for the name.”

“We could just go back to the Thunderbolts,” Ava suggested. “It’s a stupid name, but at least it doesn’t come with the stress of being an Avenger. Plus, then Captain America won’t be mad at us anymore.” 

Yelena and Bob made noises of agreement, nodding at Bucky. They were right, the Thunderbolts was a stupid name–but at least they didn’t have to be the ‘New Avengers’.

“How do we get around Valentina, though?,” Bucky asked. “There’s no way she’ll just let this happen.”

“We’ll just go public with all the shit we’ve got on her,” Yelena shrugged. “Then people won’t have to wonder why we’re backpedaling on the ‘Avengers’ label so soon.”

That wasn’t a bad idea, Bucky thought. Valentina was an awful person who had forced them into such a difficult situation just to clear her name. Bucky still remembered how he felt when she announced them as the New Avengers; it was as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice water down the back of his shirt.

He never wanted to be an Avenger, even when he was fighting beside Steve and the others in Wakanda (and later, in the ruins of the Avengers compound)–he felt no desire to be seen as a superhero, to have fame and notoriety. Bucky didn’t even want to fight in the first place, he just wanted to live a quiet life on his farm in the Wakandan countryside; but duty called, and Bucky was forced into yet another fight. 

When the snap happened, and Bucky saw himself turn to dust–he didn’t feel scared, not really. If anything, he felt relieved. He was grateful for coming back, though; if he hadn't been brought back, he would never have gotten to know Sam–would never have fallen pregnant with his child.

The more Bucky thought of the baby recently (recently being in the hours since he’d spoken to Sam), the more he began to, well, love it. It wasn’t that he didn’t love the baby before, he just…couldn’t.

The fact that he hadn’t told Sam and that he didn’t even know he could have a baby in the first place made it impossible to view the thing inside of him in a positive light. But now, now that he had Sam, it felt easier to actually be excited by the idea of having a child.

“That’s good,” Bucky spoke, agreeing with Yelena. “She won’t go down easy, but there's no way she’ll be able to get one over on us this time.”

“Shouldn’t we consult John and Alexei about this? They’re part of the team too…” Bob asked.

Bucky, Yelena and Ava all made eye contact for a moment before shrugging.

“Nah, it doesn’t matter,” Yelena said. “Besides, if either of them disagree–it’s four vs two; they’ll either have to agree or leave.”

“So that’s it?,” Ava questioned. “We’re talking down Valentina and becoming the Thunderbolts again?”

“Yeah, kid,” Bucky chuckled. “Guess we are.”

The conversation ended after that, with Bucky quickly trailing out of the room to tell Sam the news.

Bucky could practically hear Sam’s smirk over the phone as he explained to him the team's plan. It felt amazing to finally be on Sam’s good side after so long, as though it was all Bucky needed to fix his shitty mental health. He still hadn’t told the team about his plan to move in with Sam in Washington, but he knew they would understand.

God, Bucky couldn’t wait to get all of the ‘taking down Valentina and going back to the Thunderbolts’ shit out of the way so he could move in with Sam and just…relax. Sure, there’d still be many stressful things to come–but if he had Sam by his side, everything would be okay.

Chapter Text

Taking down Valentina was, all things considered, fairly easy.

After Bucky and the team had put the plan together, they made a point of telling John and Alexei about their idea, too. The conversation with them went down as well as it could’ve–with Alexei being overjoyed that they were going back to the Thunderbolts and John not seeming too bothered at all.

It took them a few days, but eventually the team managed to compile all of their evidence on Valentina together in a digital file which they quickly made work of sharing to the media. The file was attached with a statement from the team, explaining how they never intended to be the ‘New Avengers’ and that Valentina forced them into the role without them ever being able to get a single word in.

They signed the statement off with ‘Thunderbolts’, making sure that the public knew exactly where they stood.

Bucky was giddy with joy by the time the news reports of their exposure of Valentina and the rebranding of the New Avengers rolled around. He didn’t realise how much the name of the team weighed heavily on him until they’d changed it and it felt as though the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. Bucky was certain if he asked the team, they would say they felt the same.

Bucky’s joy didn’t last for long, however–as Valentina quickly raided the tower to face them about her exposure.

“What’s this?,” Valentina spoke, her face red with anger. “Why has this been all over the media for the past few days?”

“Because it’s the truth, Valentina,” Yelena spoke with a smirk on her face. “And the people deserve to know the truth.”

Valentina scoffed, laughing almost hysterically. “This–,” She gestured wildly at the files in her hand. “–means nothing to me! I won’t go down because of some listless documents!”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Ava chuckled. “The FBI is already planning on making your arrest, so coming here was probably the worst decision you could’ve made.”

The look on Valentina's face shifted from one of anger to horror as she realised what was about to happen.

“No,” Valentina gasped, backing up away from the team. “No, you can’t do this! I have information on you, all of you!.”

She pointed towards Bucky, her eyes narrowing with devilish intent. “I know things about you, Barnes. I know what you’ve been up to with Captain America, and I know about the baby–,”

Before Valentina could get another word out Bucky was across the room, grabbing her by the collar and snarling at her with rage filled eyes.

“How do you know that?” Bucky growled, his grip on Valentina's collar never faltering.

“Bucky, stop. She’s not worth it.” Yelena warned from behind him.

Bucky ignored her words, his mind unable to focus on anything other than tearing Valentina to pieces. The possibility that she could put his unborn child in danger made Bucky see nothing but red.

“How the hell do you know that?!” Bucky said once again, much louder and much more aggressive this time.  

“Well, you’re not exactly subtle about it,” Valentina chuckled. “You really think I don’t have cameras in here? Microphones? God, you’re all so dense.”

Bucky’s grip on Valentina's collar tightened as he held back the urge to strangle her. Of course she had fucking cameras in the tower, of course! She probably had god knows how many hours of Bucky talking about Sam and the baby; she probably had footage of him staring at the small bump that was his growing baby in the floor length mirror in his bedroom. Lord knows Bucky spends far too much time doing that.

“Your blackmail isn’t going to work, Valentina,” John said, stepping forward to place a hand on one of Bucky’s tense shoulders. “You can’t spread your slander from a prison cell.”

The feeling of a comforting hand on his shoulder, from John of all people, was startling to Bucky. He flinched at the touch, almost feeling burnt by it, but eventually relaxed. The physical contact drew Bucky out of his red–hot fury, but only slightly.

“You really think that being in prison is going to stop me?,” Valentina laughed. “You’re all so cute.”

“I don’t care what you do,” Bucky hissed. “Your words won’t hurt me, Sam or the baby.”

Bucky finally let go of her collar, stepping backwards to join the rest of the team where they were standing across the room. 

Valentina didn’t get another word in after that, not because she didn’t want to but because the FBI showed up at the tower mere seconds after Bucky’s statement. The FBI thanked the team, promising them that Valentina wouldn’t be getting out of prison anytime soon (despite her raving threats as she was taken out of the tower in handcuffs.)

The promise was a kind one, but it didn’t help Bucky calm down at all. The only thought that was racing through Bucky’s head was one about Valentina's threat. He couldn’t just let her go, not after what she’d said. If her words–the truth–ever got out Bucky wouldn’t know what to do. The public knowing about Sam’s relationship with Bucky could ruin his image as Captain America forever, and, god, if anything–anything–happened to the baby, Valentina wouldn’t live another second. 

“Are you okay, Bucky? Valentina was quite…cruel.” Bob asked, drawing Bucky out of his thoughts.

Cruel, was a major understatement. Her words burned into Bucky’s mind like a branding iron, seeping deep into his skin–unable to escape. There was no way that Bucky could just brush her words off like they meant nothing, just the possibility that something could potentially happen to his child or Sam was enough to send him to the brink of a panic attack.

“I’m fine–,” Bucky could barely get the words out before Yelena was cutting him off.

“Just ignore her, Bucky. Valentina is such a liar!,” Yelena raved. “She probably doesn’t even have any ‘footage’, anyway.”

“I’m fine, ‘Lena,” Bucky sighed, hoping that the nickname would settle Yelena enough for him to get a word in. “I have to go.”

Yelena started speaking again, but Bucky didn’t stick around to hear it; trailing out of the room as quickly as possible without straight up running.

Bucky wasn’t lying when he said he had to go, he had to meet Sam at the outreach centre for his doctor's appointment. This was the first time he wouldn’t be going alone–and the first time Sam would be a part of the whole pregnancy experience–so, for once, he was somewhat excited to get the hell out of the tower and to the doctors .

Sam was looking forward to it, also. They hadn’t seen each other since their first meeting a few days ago, but Sam made a point to keep in contact over text messages and calls. Bucky took to it with ease, hardly remembering a time when it was just him and the baby–not him, Sam and the baby.

Sam had asked Bucky if he had any pictures of the baby during one of their calls; Bucky had been confused at first on how he’d get a picture of the baby when it was still inside of him, but then he realised he was talking about an ultrasound photo.

Dr Oskia had offered him a photo of the baby at their first appointment, but Bucky declined. He was still so confused about the baby's existence in the first place, unable to fully come to terms with it until he’d spoken to Sam only days ago. Now that Sam had mentioned it, Bucky did want a picture of the baby; it would be a nice thing for them to have when they were older, Bucky thought.

Everything felt so much more real with Sam around. If Sam had never agreed to be there for Bucky, he doesn’t know what he’d have done. 

As Bucky trailed down the busy streets of Manhattan to reach the Wakandan outreach centre, he tried his hardest to erase Valentina's words from his mind. She was in prison now, there was no way that she’d somehow be able to get the information out to the public without someone stopping her. Bucky was stressing himself out about it for no reason, everything was going to be fine.

Once Bucky stepped through the door of the centre, he was so consumed by his own thoughts that he crashed right into the back of the person closest to him.

“Whoa, you okay, man–,” Bucky heard a familiar voice say. “Bucky?”

Bucky looked up, his eyes meeting with Sam’s. “Sam,” Bucky spoke, chuckling. “I’m sorry for…walking into you.”

“‘S fine, Buck,” Sam laughed, wrapping a hand around the middle of Bucky's waist in a comforting manner. “You feeling okay? You look…stressed, I suppose.”

Bucky froze, tensing up in Sam’s arms. He couldn’t tell Sam about what Valentina said, Sam would no doubt make a big deal out of it that would probably stress Bucky out even more. Obviously, he wouldn’t be trying to upset Bucky intentionally–but Bucky knew Sam, he knew how passionate and protective he could get when it comes to the people he loves.

“I’m fine, Sam. ‘M just used to coming to these things alone, yknow….” Bucky answered, immediately regretting his words when Sam’s face shifted to guilt.

“You shouldn’t have been alone,” Sam grumbled sadly, letting go of Bucky’s waist and turning away from him. “I should’ve been there with you.”

“Hey,” Bucky spoke, taking Sam’s face in his hands and turning his face back towards him so their eyes met. “Don’t blame yourself for my stupid decisions, you didn’t even know about any of this; I should’ve told you as soon as I found out.”

Sam sighed, reaching one of his hands up to cover over Bucky’s. “I wish I did know. I wish I could’ve been there for you.”

“That’s all in the past, sweetheart,” Bucky hummed, suppressing the urge to press his lips to Sam’s like he would once have done so long ago. “Let’s just focus on the future now, okay?”

“Okay.” Sam nodded, squeezing Bucky's hand one more time before dropping it.

The whole interaction seemed so similar to one they would’ve had when they were still together; god, it was still so difficult to imagine that they weren’t anymore. 

Bucky guided Sam through the hallway and down to Dr. Oskia’s office. He was somewhat nervous about bringing Sam around for the first time, especially since he what he’d told Dr. Zamve about him; plus Sam was Captain America, it was pretty difficult for his presence not to be a big deal.

“James!,” Dr. Oskia greeted from down the hallway, rushing towards Bucky and Sam. “And, oh my, Captain America!”

Bucky flushed furiously at her words, want to cover his face with his hands to hide from Dr. Oskia’s knowing gaze, but Sam didn’t seem bothered at all–just smiling, reaching forward to shake her hand.

“It’s just Sam when I’m off–duty.” Bucky rolled his eyes at Sam’s modesty, causing him to laugh.

“Well then, Sam,” Dr. Oskia smirked. “Is there a reason you’re here today, or are you just accompanying James to his appointment?”

Sam paused, turning to look at Bucky for input. Bucky wasn’t sure what to do, whether he should tell Dr. Oskia exactly why Sam was there or if he should come up with some fruitless lie.

Bucky met Sam’s eye, silently asking him what he should do. After a moment, Sam nodded–signaling for Bucky to tell Dr. Oskia the truth. Bucky slowly inhaled, turning back towards Dr. Oskia.

“Sam is–well,” Bucky sighed, debating on how to explain their situation the simplest. “Sam’s here because he’s family.”

Bucky watched as Dr. Oskia’s face shifted from confusion to realisation as the reality of the situation washed over her.

“Oh,” She gasped. “That’s wonderful! Come on, let’s get you on the table, James. I can’t wait for you to see the baby!”

Dr. Oskia looked at Sam while saying the last sentence, smiling at him joyfully. Bucky and Sam followed her into her office, one that Bucky had grown familiar with over their previous appointments.

Sam stayed close by his side as Dr. Oskia directed Bucky to lay down on the table; she and Sam both seemed much more eager to see the baby than Bucky was, and in a way he felt guilty for it.

Bucky, in his ever continuing research about pregnancy, had found out that it wasn’t uncommon for first time…mothers to feel a sort of distaste towards their child whilst pregnant with them. It was especially common in mothers who hadn’t been trying for a child, it was some sort of psychological thing that couldn’t be helped; google had said that people shouldn’t feel bad about those feelings, that what you felt towards your child before they were born didn’t reflect on whether you actually loved them or not.

Obviously, Bucky’s situation wasn’t the same as, well, anyone else's. Having a baby growing inside of him when that wasn’t supposed to be biologically possible was something that weighed on Bucky heavily. He didn’t hate the baby, obviously not–he was already willing to do everything in his power to protect the unborn child, even if it meant sacrificing his life. But he wasn’t sure that he loved it, either. Not like Sam already seemed to.

It was…hard for Bucky to comprehend the fact that in only six months he had to take care of a baby. Sam made it easier for Bucky to face that fact–just his presence meant that Bucky wouldn’t have to do any of this alone, and that was the most comforting thing in the world. 

“The baby’s growing quickly, James,” Dr. Oskia said as she lifted the bottom of Bucky’s shirt up to prepare him for the ultrasound. “Should be around the size of a plum now.”

Bucky hummed, not really acknowledging Dr. Oskia’s words. Bucky turned to Sam, seeing that his gaze was fixated on Bucky’s slightly curved stomach.

In the three months of his pregnancy, Bucky’s abdomen hadn’t really rounded out a lot–yet, that was. It wasn’t to the point that anyone would be able to tell, but whenever Bucky was shirtless–the curve of his child growing inside of him seemed impossible not to notice.

Something about his body that had grown significantly, was his chest. Bucky had noticed it almost immediately after his last appointment a few weeks ago. It was as though Bucky had woken up one morning and, suddenly, had breasts. 

Not large ones, just small, swollen lumps on his chest where the doctor said his body was storing milk for the baby. Bucky hated them, he hated the way he couldn’t wear t-shirts anymore without having to wear a goddamn sports bra to hide his tits. Bucky didn’t want to breastfeed the baby, he wasn’t going to; not in a million years was he going to. His body could store as much milk in his chest as it wanted to, but Bucky was absolutely not going to fucking breastfeed.

“When will you be able to tell the gender?” Sam asked Dr. Oskia, drawing Bucky out of his thoughts.

“I could tell you right now, if you wanted–,” Dr. Oskia started, but Bucky cut her off.

“No.”

“No?,” Sam asked, cocking his head at Bucky. “You want it to be a surprise?”

“No,” Bucky shrugged. “I want to do one of those…gender party things.”

Sam immediately starting snickering at Bucky’s words, and Bucky could see Dr. Oskia trying to suppress a giggle.

“What?,” Bucky asked, confused and slightly annoyed at Sam’s reaction. “Why is that funny?”

“‘S not, Baby,” Sam chuckled, soothing at hand over the top of Bucky’s shoulder. “We can have a gender party if you want.”

“Well good, because I do want.” Bucky huffed, rolling his eyes when Sam laughed once again.

Sam’s laughter stopped immediately as Dr. Oskia brought the ultrasound scanner over to Bucky’s stomach, carefully rubbing some of the cold jelly over it with a gloved hand before gently pressing the probe against it.

Bucky kept his gaze focused on the ceiling, but it became abundantly clear due to Sam’s gasp when the black and white image of the baby appeared on the ultrasound monitor. Despite having had several ultrasounds done before at this point, Bucky had never once looked at the image on the monitor.

Instead of looking at the baby, Bucky turned his eyes to Sam. Sam was completely fixed on the blurry image of their child on the screen, his eyes watery from the tears he was holding back.

Bucky was taken back by the blatant emotion on Sam’s face, wondering how an image could make him so…emotional. After a moment of staring at Sam, Bucky turned towards the monitor.

The picture on the screen made Bucky feel…wired. He didn’t feel emotional like Sam did, he didn’t really feel anything at all. To Bucky, it was just a picture and nothing else; maybe it was because the image was just a grainy, black and white outline or maybe it was because Bucky didn’t really care for the baby at all, he didn’t know. He desperately hoped it was the former rather than the latter, though.

Sam let out a breathy sob, and when Bucky turned around–he saw that there were tears streaming down Sam’s face; however, there was still a wide smile on it. 

“Hey,” Bucky soothed, reaching his hand out towards Sam’s. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Sam laughed, breathless, squeezing Bucky’s hand tightly. “I’m just…so happy.”

Sam’s words brought a smile to Bucky’s face, even if he didn’t feel the same. God, he wished so desperately that he could feel happy in this moment–happy to be there with Sam, looking at a picture of their baby for the first time, but he didn’t.

As Sam’s calmed down and Dr. Oskia finished up with the exam, Bucky was somewhat…vacant. It was as though he was watching everything from across the room, the words coming from Sam, Dr. Oskia and even his own mouth sounding like white noise in his ears. Bucky didn’t really come back into himself until he and Sam were standing outside of the centre–with Sam caressing his shoulder to gain his attention.

“You still with me, Buck?” Sam asked, his voice still somewhat hoarse from the tears he’d shed in the doctor’s office.

Bucky nodded in response, slowly blinking his eyes to get rid of some of the dizziness he was feeling.

“So do you want to?” Sam spoke.

“Want to what?” Bucky asked, confused.

“Come stay with me in Washington.” Sam replied, looking slightly concerned at Bucky’s response.

“Now?” 

“Better sooner than later, right?” Sam joked, brushing his hand against Bucky’s.

Bucky hadn’t really thought about when he’d move out of the tower to live with Sam, it was more of a hypothetical thing than a literal one in his mind. It wasn't that Bucky didn’t want to move in with Sam, he’d just grown really close with the team and didn’t really want to leave them.

Bucky hadn’t even thought about the possibility that he’d never really be a member of the team again, that instead of going out on missions and saving people’s lives he’d have to stay at home with the baby like some helpless housewife. Bucky wanted peace, sure, but there were people out in the world that needed protecting that Bucky had the capabilities to protect; but then again, his child needed protecting too–and Sam would be too busy with his Captain America business to be there for the baby all the time, but Bucky could sacrifice his superheroing to stay with the baby. Even if he didn’t really want to.

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded. “Just let me get my stuff from the tower then I’ll catch a fight.”

“You could hitch a ride with me.” Sam offered, shrugging.

“What, you gonna strap your wings on and fly me down to Washington? That’s not very safe, Sam.” Bucky joked, smirking.

“Wha–no! I drove up here, I was offering to take you down in my car, not with the wings!” Bucky burst out into a fit of giggles at Sam’s perplexed reaction, not missing his annoyed eye roll at Bucky’s hysterics.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Bucky said after a moment. “I’ll let you drive me to Washington.”

Sam rolled his eyes again, grabbing Bucky’s wrist and dragging him down the street–all while ignoring Bucky’s humorous giggles.

                             ***

Explaining to the team that he was leaving was…hard, to say the least.

Before telling them, Bucky assumed that out of all of the team members Walker would have the most positive reaction. He and Bucky still didn’t really get along, but they were on more neutral terms than negative ones; Alexei probably wouldn’t be too bothered, either. It was the other members of the team he was nervous about telling

Over the course of the past few months, Bucky had become a sort of anchor for the younger members of the team. Well, relatively younger–Bob, Yelena and Ava were all in their late twenties or so, but to Bucky they were practically babies.

Bucky saw his younger sisters in them, being around the team made him feel like he was a part of a family; being around Sam and his family did also, but in a different kind of way. He didn’t want to just leave them without a word, Bucky had to at least tell them why he was going in the first place.

Bucky’s eyes were fixed on the ceiling of the elevator as he rode it up to the main floor of the tower, chewing on the inside of his cheek nervously. It felt as though his life had been going at a hundred miles per hour recently, like every time he managed to get over one hurdle–a dozen more appeared in his sight line.

Between the baby, his relationship with Sam and Valentina’s threat–talking to the team was the least of Bucky’s worries. Yet it still stressed him out beyond belief; God, Bucky hoped desperately that once he moved in with Sam all this…insanity would be over, or, at the least, a little less frequent.

The ‘ding’ of the elevator arriving at the common room of the tower startled Bucky out of his thoughts. He gingerly took a step forward, trailing towards where the team was resting on the couch watching TV.

“Bucky!,” Yelena exclaimed, waving to him from where she was sitting. “How was your appointment?”

“Uh…yeah, good.” Bucky murmured, blindly moving to take a seat next to Bob on the couch.

“Everything okay?” Bob whispered, his hands tangled in Alpine's wild fur from where she was seated on his lap.

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, shifting in his seat. “Sam…uh, Sam asked me to move down to Washington with him.”

A strange silence fell over the room after Bucky spoke,with everyone there turning their gaze to face him. Bucky felt like he wanted to crawl out of his skin and bury himself in the ground–literally any response would’ve been better than this.

“That’s…good, right?,” Ava said after a moment, her face looking more upset than Bucky had ever seen it. “The baby can’t be raised in the tower, a-and it’s good that Sam’s around, too.”

Bucky nodded, his eyes darting between everyone in the room. “I’m not going away forever, and I’ll visit as often as I can. I want the baby to know who you are–you guys are like my family, I want them to be a part of that family, too.”

Bucky didn’t miss the tears that clouded over Bob, Yelena and Ava’s eyes–and Alexei was practically bordering on hysterics at this point, for some reason. If Bucky looked close enough, he swore he could see a flicker of emotion on John's face also–though he’d probably adamantly deny it if confronted.

“You’re our family too, Bucky,” Yelena sniffled, whipping away the tears from her eyes. “Damn you for making me cry.”

Bucky chuckled, letting out a gush of air when Bob practically tackled him against the couch in a crushing hug. Bucky looked down at him, his eyes wide with shock–reluctantly, Bucky wrapped his flesh arms around Bob's shoulder. 

Before he knew it, Yelena and Ava were piling on top of him as well. Bucky felt Alexei sobbing into the back of his head a moment later, the action making him furrow his brows in confusion.

John was still sitting across from them, his face scrunched up in thought. For a moment, Bucky thought he was going to stay there–but he was soon proved wrong when John rose from the chair and trailed over towards them, wrapping his arms around Ava’s back and Bucky’s shoulders to unite them in a group hug.

The moment felt so similar to when the team had saved Bob from The Void, all those months ago. Except this time, it was Bucky being comforted instead–and for a drastically different reason. It felt so comforting, having the people he cared about–the people who cared about him–wrapped around him in a warm embrace with the intention of reassuring him that everything was going to be okay. For the first time since the cookout in Louisiana, Bucky felt as though he truly had a family again.

After Bucky managed to pry himself away from the team to pack up his belongings, he stood at the exit to the tower–staring at the door. 

Bucky had managed to calm down Bob, Yelena and Ava enough to round up his belongings–but Alexei followed him around like a lost puppy, begging him through tears not to leave. Bucky mostly ignored him, occasionally shooting him confused glances which just tended to make things worse.

A voice from behind Bucky drew him out of his thoughts.

“Don’t be a stranger, Barnes.” Bucky turned around, finding himself eye to eye with Walker, of all people.

“‘Course not,” Bucky chuckled, taking Alpines cage from John. “I mean, you guys would be practically helpless without me.”

John huffed out a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You know, Barnes?,” John sighed, looking at Bucky. “You’re gonna make a really good dad.”

Bucky felt a wide smile make its way onto his face, and he shrugged. Something deep inside of him didn’t really believe those words, but for now he’d just take it a face value.

“Thanks, Walker.” Bucky spoke. “I’ll see you around.”

John nodded, turning on his heel and heading back into the tower–leaving Bucky alone near the door. The interaction was…strange, but it was nice nonetheless. Something about Johns words must’ve been the truth and not just a lie to make Bucky’s feel better, because John wouldn’t do that. He might’ve been an asshole, but he was an honest one.

Bucky grabbed his bags and Alpine’s cage up off the floor, dragging them out into the street and towards where Sam’s car was parked only a few feet away.

As soon as Sam laid eyes on Bucky he sped towards him, taking Alpine’s crate from out of his hands and carrying it to the back of his car.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Sam cooed, smiling at Alpine through the bars of the crate. “Fig will be happy to see you.”

“She’ll be happy to see him, too,” Bucky chuckled, sliding into the passenger seat of Sam’s car. “She missed him, a lot.”

Sam sat down in the drivers seat, reaching over to take Bucky’s hand into his own. Bucky looked up and met his eyes, a warm smile making its way onto his face at the contact.

“Ready to go?” Sam asked, squeezing Bucky’s hand.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, feeling entirely relaxed for once. “I am.”

Chapter Text

Moving down to Washington with Sam was probably the best decision Bucky could’ve made.

They’d arrived at Sam’s apartment a few hours after Bucky left the tower. Torres greeted them at the door, seemingly already knowing that Bucky was pregnant from the way he immediately took the bags Bucky was carrying from his hand.

Bucky had always liked Joaquin, he was a good kid even if he was far too energetic for his own good–he thought it was adorable the way he admired Sam, especially now since he was the new Falcon. Bucky thought he’d probably get along with Bob; they were the same age, and both eager overachievers who’d walk straight into an active war zone to save a lost kitten. Maybe Bucky should introduce them to each other some time…

As much as Bucky enjoyed spending time with the team, he hated living in the tower. New York was nothing like it had been in the 40s, plus Bucky had never really been fond of Manhattan in the first place. It was always so loud and busy, definitely not a good environment to be carrying a child in. 

The weeks that passed by leading up to Bucky’s five month mark were some of the most relaxing of his life. He just spent days at a time lounging around the apartment either reading or Googling things about pregnancy. Sam was around sometimes, but mostly he was away on missions. His absence stressed Bucky out at first, causing him to stay up to absurd hours (or sometimes not sleep at all)–but after Sam reassured him that everything would be okay he grew accustomed to being alone.

About a week into his stay in Washington, Joaquin seemingly vanished. Bucky probably wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for Joaquin spending every waking second gushing over the baby.

Bucky didn’t really understand his interest in it, his bump was barely visible–definitely not large enough to feel anything yet. But Joaquin didn’t seem to mind that, he loved asking Bucky a million questions nonetheless; including to press his hands to his stomach to see if he could feel the baby. Bucky let him, and then rolled his eyes at Joaquin’s disappointed face when he couldn’t feel anything.

Bucky asked Sam where Joaquin had gone, furrowing his brows in confusion when Sam said that he’d gone home. Turns out that Joaquin didn’t live with Sam, he only stayed there sometimes when they had missions.

Bucky didn’t miss him, but the apartment did start to feel a lot more lonely without the kid around. Alpine and Figaro’s presence helped though–even if they were both much more interested in each other rather than Bucky; thank god they were both sterilised, or Bucky wouldn’t be the only one expecting a baby.

The time that he spent alone in the apartment passed by steadily, and before Bucky knew it he actually started looking pregnant. It was to the point that his stomach could no longer be covered by any of his shirts and he could barely fit in his jeans anymore.

Sam had gone out to purchase some maternity clothes, but when he handed them to Bucky he just stared at them in confusion. The maternity clothes stayed partially untouched with Bucky deciding to stick to oversized t–shirts and sweatpants instead–with the exception of the fluffy navy dressing gown that Sam had bought, he loved that one.

Strangely enough, Bucky actually felt more comfortable in his second trimester than he did his first. Maybe it was due to the fact that he had Sam now, or maybe because he was just used to being pregnant at this point–either way, Bucky didn’t dwell on the reason too much.

“Hey, Buck,” Sam spoke, gently trailing his fingers through Bucky’s hair from behind the couch. “You feeling okay? Little one not giving you too much trouble?”

Bucky sighed, relaxing back into Sam’s touch. “No. I think they're sleepy today.”

“Just like their Mama, huh?” Sam cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of Bucky’s face–causing Bucky to roll his eyes.

Sam had, for some reason, taken to referring to Bucky as ‘Mama’ and various other names of the sort. Bucky wasn’t bothered by it, not at all–in fact, he thought it was quite adorable. Obviously, he wasn’t actually the baby’s mother but he found that he didn’t hate the label; if the baby wanted to call him that, he wouldn’t stop them. Though he’d prefer something that would be a little less confusing to the general public.

“Hey, you think that little Sam Jr will have the same dashing looks that I do?” Sam smirked, coming around to the front of the couch to kneel on the floor in front of Bucky–pressing his hands against his stomach.

“Sam Jr?,” Bucky snorted, shaking his head. “We don’t even know what gender they are yet.”

“Samantha, then,” Sam shrugged, rubbing circles into Bucky’s bump. “I’m not picky.”

“We’re not naming the baby after you, Sam.” Bucky huffed, attempting to stand up from the couch but failing miserably.

After about thirty seconds of Bucky trying to rise from the couch, he eventually caved–reaching his hand out to Sam for help. Sam chuckled, helping Bucky up from the couch.

“Don’t laugh at me. This is already humiliating as is.” Bucky groaned, pushing Sam’s hands away from him and walking towards the kitchen with small steps.

“I’m not laughing at you, Bucky,” Sam soothed, following Bucky into the kitchen. “I think it’s cute.”

“Me being too fat to stand up from the couch is not cute, Sam.” Bucky ignored the exasperated sigh that Sam let out.

Sam always hated when Bucky called himself fat, but it was the truth–he was. It wasn’t just the bump from the baby that made Bucky fat, though–throughout the course of the last two months of his pregnancy he’d put on at least ten pounds. It seemed the only thing his body ever wanted was sugar, which didn’t make much sense because before he was pregnant Bucky was definitely a savoury over sweet kind of guy. Apparently, the baby wasn’t.

Sam wasn’t very good at denying his cravings. So whenever Bucky would ask him for anything (anything usually meaning processed candy that definitely wasn’t good for him–or anyone at that), Sam would get it for him. Bucky hated it when he did, yelling at him all while eating his candy–and then getting upset because he yelled at Sam over something as stupid as candy.

“You’re not fat, Bucky. You’re pregnant.” Sam spoke, wrapping his arms around Bucky from behind–resting his hands against Bucky’s stomach.

“‘M still fat….” Bucky murmured, covering Sam’s hands with his own.

“What about the gender reveal?,” Sam asked, thankfully changing the subject. “You got any ideas on what you want to do for it?”

“Couple,” Bucky hummed. “I don’t want anything big, that’s for sure. I like the cakes that people do on the Instagram–it’s cute, simple.”

“Just Instagram, Buck,” Sam laughed quietly, causing Bucky to roll his eyes. “And, yeah. A cake would be cute. I actually found a bakery that specialises in gender reveal cakes.”

“Let’s do that, then. Soon,” Bucky suggested, prying himself out of Sam’s arms to face him. “We could send some to the team, as well.”

“I’ll get to it then, Baby.” Sam hummed.

Living with Sam had made things…confusing, regarding their relationship that was. Sam would hold Bucky in his arms, caress his belly and kiss his face–but he’d never kiss his lips. They didn’t sleep in the same bed, nor did they have sex (which was something Bucky didn’t even want to think about right now) but Sam would call him the same pet names that he did when they were dating. 

Bucky was overwhelmed by the whole thing, not understanding whether Sam was just doing it because of the baby or because he still loved Bucky. He supposed it was a good thing either way, Sam was showing him affection–therefore Bucky was happy; happy Mama, happy baby, as Sam would say.

“Are you gonna tell Sarah about…this any time soon?” Bucky murmured, turning away from Sam to rummage through the kitchen cabinets.

“I’m tryin’, Baby, but it’s difficult. You know that.” Sam sighed, running a hand over his face.

“Of course it’s difficult,” Bucky echoed back, moving through the kitchen. “But I want Sarah and the boys to know–they deserve to know. So if you don’t talk to her soon, I will.”

Bucky didn’t miss the exasperated noise Sam let out, wanting to tear his hair out in frustration at the sound.

“Alright, Buck,” Sam spoke. “If you wanna talk to Sarah so badly then you can call her after your session.”

Bucky felt his blood boiling in response to Sam’s words. Why was he being so passive aggressive about Bucky wanting to tell Sarah? He wasn’t the freak of nature who was five months pregnant whilst being biologically male. If Sam wanted to make this thing more difficult than it had to be then he was free to do so, but Bucky wasn’t going to be complicit in that.

Bucky turned on his heel with a huff, snatching the bag of candy he’d found in the cabinet with a vice grip and storming off down the hallway. If Sam wasn’t going to be reasonable then Bucky wasn’t going to be either.

“Wha–, Bucky, where are you going?” Sam questioned, scrambling to follow Bucky down the hallway.

“Away.” Bucky hissed, entering his bedroom and slamming the door in Sam’s face.

“Bucky,” Sam sighed, knocking on the door. “Cmon, open up. Let’s just talk about this.”

“Go away, Sam.” Bucky grumbled.

“Fine,” Sam spat back, stepping away from the door. “If you’re gonna be like that then fine. Come talk to me when you’re feeling less bitchy.”

Bucky suppressed a scream at Sam’s remark, grabbing the closest thing to him–which happened to be his alarm clock–and launching it at the door. The clock shattered almost instantly, crashing down against the carpet in pieces with a low thud.

They’d made a habit of this recently–arguments, that was. Bucky‘s pregnancy hormones were all over the place, even more so than they had been in his first trimester, and Sam wasn’t exactly good at responding to that. They were both hot-headed and self-assured when everything was normal, so Bucky being pregnant certainly didn’t help with their conflict resolution. 

They didn’t argue before, maybe that was why their break up was so…angry–too many suppressed emotions. There was a lot less talking now and a lot more yelling, and, in a way, Bucky preferred it.

Sure, arguing with Sam was never fun, but it was so much better than the silent anger from before. So much better than Bucky coming home from a tiring day working in Congress to Sam sitting on the couch basking in passive aggressiveness because he just wouldn’t explain why he was mad. Whenever he did though, there was never a solution; they’d just forget about the whole thing until it would happen again and again and again.

Bucky was pissed at Sam, but he could focus on resolving that later. Right now he had another therapy session to get to.

                            ***

“James, are you listening to me?” Dr. Zamve asked over the video call, snapping Bucky out of the trance he was in.

“Yeah.” Bucky sighed, focusing on the computer screen once again.

Since Bucky had moved down to Washington, he and Dr. Zamve’s sessions had been online over video call. It took a few sessions for Bucky to adjust to the change, but once he did–he found it to be much less stressful than meeting in person; especially now since he was so visibly pregnant.

“Okay, what’s wrong?,” Before Bucky could answer, Dr. Zamve cut him off. “And don’t give me that look, James. 

“Nothing, ‘s just…,” Bucky exhaled, leaning back against the desk chair he was resting in. “Me and Sam got into a fight again.”

The exasperated sigh that Dr. Zamve let out didn’t help with Bucky’s already overwhelming stress.

“What was it about?”

“I asked Sam when he was gonna tell his sister about the baby,” Bucky started. “And he was being so frustrating about it! Talking to me like the baby was a goddamn burden, and acting as if telling Sarah was just a task that he needed to complete. He won’t let me talk to her, so I don’t know why he’s making it so complicated.”

“Well, it’s Sam’s child too, James. He has a right to be concerned about telling his sister,” Dr. Zamve spoke. “Have you asked him why talking to her would be difficult?”

Bucky hadn’t asked Sam why talking to Sarah would be difficult. He’d just assumed that the reason was because of Bucky and his un–naturalness. Maybe it ran deeper than that, though–the only way that Bucky would know was if he asked.

“No,” Bucky grumbled, sinking into his chair. “Not yet.”

“God, you’re both exactly the same,” Dr. Zamve remarked with a roll of her eyes. “Just talk to him. I guarantee you’ll both feel much better if you’re on the same page.

Bucky turned his gaze away from the screen, instead looking down at his rounded stomach instead. He gently placed a hand over it, smiling at the comforting feeling of the baby pressing its foot into the contact.

Feeling his stomach was something that Bucky did a lot recently. It brought him an immense amount of comfort, being able to have a sort of contact with his child whilst they were still inside of him; Sam liked it too, though in a different way to Bucky. Whenever Sam felt the baby kicking, it just made him all the more eager to meet them–whereas for Bucky, it was the opposite.

When he felt the baby moving inside of him or against his palm, he’d deeply dreaded the day their child would be born. In a selfish way, he didn’t want the baby to be away from him–for them to be apart. Bucky felt it would be so lonely when he was just himself again, when it was only him and not them. 

Bucky did want to meet the child, of course he did. From the small things he knew about them, Bucky was sure that his and Sam's child would be the greatest thing to ever happen to them. But he couldn’t help but be afraid that once the baby was born, he wouldn’t have the same connection to them that he did now.

It was probably something that Bucky should talk to Dr. Zamve about, but it just felt too…personal. It was just something that Bucky kept to himself, a type of connection that only he and the baby shared–he didn’t really want anyone to know about it, even if it would make things less stressful for him.

“Can we talk about something else?” Bucky spoke quietly, looking back up at the screen.

“Of course, James,” Dr. Zamve spoke calmly. “The other doctors that have been researching your…situation have made some progress.”

Bucky’s ears perked up at that, the news making his stomach flip. Bucky would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about how his body worked; he thought that he knew, but since he learned about the baby he wasn’t so sure. The doctors had made some suggestions over his appointments, but it was onto vague things here and there–nothing concrete. 

Maybe knowing how all this worked would make him feel better about the situation and not so…different.

“What did they say?” Bucky asked.

“I…don’t think that it would be good for me to tell you right now, over video call,” Dr. Zamve admitted, confusing Bucky. “It’s a lot to handle for anyone so maybe we should meet in person for our next session.”

“Okay…?” Bucky spoke, still thoroughly confused on why Dr. Zamve was being so weird about this.

The session ended shortly after that, with Bucky feeling much more calm than he had beforehand. He was slightly concerned about what Dr. Zamve had said about what the doctors had found out about his situation, but it was enough for it to dwell on him.

With a sigh, Bucky stood up from the chair–holding onto the desk in front of him for support. He knew he had to talk to Sam, it wasn’t any good for either of them when they fought so talking about it would definitely soothe both of them. 

Bucky carefully moved out the room, his steps small due to the large bump of the child growing inside of him. It had become pretty difficult for Bucky to move around, super soldier serum or not–though he wasn’t too bothered by it. The only disadvantage that Bucky found mobility wise was not being able to work out anymore, that was really a pain in the ass.

As Bucky stepped into the living room, he saw Sam resting on the couch. There was some old movie on the TV but Sam didn’t seem like he was watching it, staring at something on his phone instead. 

Bucky trailed over to the couch, sitting down next to Sam without a word. Sam didn’t speak either, instead draping an arm over Bucky's shoulders and letting him rest against his shoulder.

They stayed like that for around ten minutes or so, just basking in each other's presence and the background noise of the television, before Bucky decided to speak.

“‘M sorry for getting mad, I don’t know what’s wrong with me…” Bucky murmured against Sam’s shoulder.

“Don’t be sorry, Buck,” Sam said, squeezing Bucky’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, you’re going through a lot.”

“You’re going through a lot too, Sam,” Bucky replied, sitting up and meeting Sam’s eyes. “Why are you so stressed about telling Sarah?”

“It's just…its a lot, Bucky. I know Sarah will understand, but it’s easier when it’s just us, y'know?" Sam confessed, sighing.

“Course it’s a lot, but don’t you think that Sarah will be excited that she’s getting a niece or nephew?” Bucky spoke, taking Sam’s hand in his own and squeezing it gently.

“Yeah,” Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “Speaking of that, why don’t we go find out whether Sarah’s getting a niece or nephew, hm?”

Bucky’s face lit up at Sam’s words, immediately nodding his head. Sam carefully helped Bucky off the couch, leading him into the kitchen where two indiscreet cupcakes were resting on the counter top.

“Where’d you get these from?” Bucky asked, his eyes not moving away from the baked goods for a second. 

“Got them made a few days ago, just went to pick them up before,” Sam replied, working his hand around Bucky’s waist. “I sent some up to the Tower this morning. We should be getting some excited calls from your team soon.”

“So that’s why you were so adamant about the cake idea,” Bucky chuckled. “Seems you knew what I wanted before I did.”

Sam shrugged. “I know you like things to be simple, and for gender reveals this is about as simple as it gets.”

Bucky smiled up at Sam, bumping his hip against Sam’s. God, Sam was just so good; only a few months ago he’d rather have run into oncoming traffic than talked to Bucky and his team. Now he was sending goddamn gender reveal cupcakes to them to celebrate their baby.

“How’d you wanna go about this?” Bucky asked.

“What if we just bite into them with our eyes shut then open them right after?” Sam suggested.

“Good idea.” Bucky agreed, nodding.

Both he and Sam both took a cupcake out of the container. They were just plain vanilla ones with white frosting, nothing that would make anyone think they were special–Sam said there was either pink or blue frosting inside, pink for a girl and blue for a boy.

Bucky didn’t really understand the whole colour thing–hell, he didn’t really understand the whole concept about having to reveal a baby’s gender. When Bucky was growing up, they didn’t have the technology to know a child’s gender before they were born–so it was a surprise every time. Bucky definitely did not want it to be a surprise, it would be far too stressful. What if he bought all girly things and it turned out the baby was a boy, or the other way around? Sam didn’t seem to have an opinion on it at all, just going with whatever Bucky wanted.

Bucky made eye contact with Sam over the top of the cupcake in his shaking hand, silently asking him what to do. Sam nodded, closing his eyes; Bucky quickly mirrored his action, lifting the sweet to his mouth and taking a bite.

It didn’t taste like anything in particular, just regular overly sweet icing that would probably have made Bucky sick if he wasn’t pregnant and extremely fixated on sugar at the moment. Bucky almost didn’t want to open his eyes, too afraid by the fact that what he’d see would change his life forever.

Reluctantly, Bucky blinked his eyes open–but instead of glancing down at the cake, he looked at Sam.

Sam had pink frosting around the corners of his mouth.

Pink. A girl. 

Bucky felt as though all the air in his lungs was gone in a second, audibly letting out a choked off sob. A girl, a baby girl. Bucky had never felt such an immense amount of joy before this moment, feeling as though every moment in his life was leading up to this.

“Holy shit,” Sam breathed out, a wide smile on his face. “Pink, Buck. A girl!”

Bucky surged forward, wrapping his arms around Sam and lifting him up off the floor. Despite his large stomach being in the way, Bucky could still lift Sam up with ease just as he’d done before.

“Bucky, Jesus. Put me down!” Sam laughed, still keeping his hands on Bucky's biceps as he set him down on the ground.

Bucky pressed his forehead against Sam’s, feeling tears swelling in the back of his eyes. Nothing but this moment mattered, nothing except Bucky holding Sam in his arms as their baby girl pressed her feet against his stomach.

“Thank you.” Bucky whispered, fighting everything inside of him not to press his lips against Sam’s.

Bucky wasn’t entirely sure what exactly he was thanking Sam for, but whatever it was he deserved it. Sam deserved all the thanks in the world–for being there even when Bucky had wronged him so badly, for being the kindest man in the universe, for getting Bucky pregnant in the first place; he deserved all of it. 

As Bucky closed his eyes, flashes of a newborn baby swaddled in pink resting in Sam’s arms painted his vision. The smile that formed on his face was definitely the widest one he’d ever worn.

Chapter Text

Sam was right on the money when he said that they should be expecting excited calls from the team some time after he sent them the cupcakes.

Bucky was laying down on the couch, his head resting against a pillow and his legs in Sam’s lap, when his phone began ringing. He reached for his phone from where it was lying on the floor, not surprised to see that the caller ID read ‘Yelena’. 

Bucky looked up at Sam, who just shrugged his shoulders and went back to reading his book, before answering the phone. Once he did, he was immediately bombarded with several voices at once all talking over each other directly into his ear.

“Jesus, guys. Calm down.” Bucky chuckled, shuffling on the couch so that he was in a sitting position.

“I knew it was a girl!” Yelena squealed, causing Ava to scoff ‘no you didn’t’ in the background.

“That’s nice, ‘Lena.” Bucky sighed, moving to rest his head on Sam’s shoulder.

Sam let out a chuckle at Bucky’s obvious disinterest, one that hopefully wasn’t picked up by the phone’s microphone.

“This is amazing! We can buy her little cute dresses and–,” Yelena gasped. “Can we have a baby shower?”

“A baby shower?,” Bucky groaned, rubbing his temple. “I have no idea what that is.”

“It’s basically a party that you throw before you give birth,” Bob answered over the phone. “I think people usually just have them to get free stuff.”

“Huh,” Bucky spoke, glancing up at Sam. “That’s not a bad idea.”

Sam snorted at Bucky’s words, rolling his eyes. Sure, Bucky was only agreeing to the so-called ‘baby shower’  because Bob said that free stuff was involved, but everyone liked free stuff–plus Sam wasn’t objecting, so technically he was just as bad as Bucky.

“You should come back to the tower, Winter Soldier!,” Alexei shouted. “And bring Captain America with you. We shall throw your child a feast made for kings!”

“Uh…no thank you, Alexei. That won’t be necessary.” Bucky spoke, shutting down Alexei's offer.

The team continued throwing strange suggestions at Bucky, whether it was about the baby shower or what he should name the child–he didn’t pay much attention, just mindlessly agreeing to everything until the team got sick of it and hung up. Just agreeing to everything would probably come back to bite Bucky in the ass eventually, but he could care less right now.

All he wanted to do was fall asleep on Sam’s shoulder to the comforting feeling of their baby girl moving around inside of him. God, he’d been so tired lately that he was sure he was going to pass out after just walking from the couch to the kitchen.

It made Bucky feel so useless, not even being able to move without almost collapsing from exhaustion. It was probably because his body was making up for lost time at night–when, for some reason, the baby decided to rest her feet directly on his bladder. Jesus, it felt so surreal calling the baby her–almost as if it was a dream that Bucky would wake up from at any moment.

Everything wasn’t perfect, not by any means. But as long as Bucky had Sam, the team and everyone else who would do anything in their power to protect him, to protect the baby–perfection didn’t matter. 

Bucky found that pregnancy was growing on him, that all the stuff that people said online about women looking like they were glowing whilst pregnant was true. Bucky did feel like he was glowing, and Sam thought he was too. Sam was constantly telling Bucky how good he looked, how clear his skin was or how his hair was looking much healthier than usual. 

The praise was something that Bucky had grown accustomed to, but his stomach still did flips every time Sam complicated him. The way they interacted now reminded Bucky so much of when they first started dating, when they could go more than five seconds without getting their hands on each other.

Obviously, it wasn’t the same now. He and Sam weren’t dating anymore, the only reason that Sam was being kind to him at all was because of the baby. Every night, when the baby was keeping Bucky awake, he’d think of Sam–think of what it would be like if they were still together. 

He missed the feeling of Sam’s lips against his fiercely. The feeling of Sam’s hands trailing down his body, his lips mouthing at Bucky skin–or the other way around–it was the best feeling in the world; and Bucky would do anything to get it back.

“Are you really gonna let them throw you a baby shower?” Sam asked, smirking.

Bucky shrugged, leaning in closer to Sam’s shoulder. “It can’t hurt. Plus, we get free stuff.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Of course that's what you care about.”

“Don’t act like that’s not why you’re agreeing to this, too.” Bucky snorted, shutting his eyes.

Sam stayed quiet after that, moving his hand to trail through Bucky’s hair. The touch was a comforting thing, so gentle that Bucky almost purred at the contact. 

Bucky relaxed into Sam’s touch, and, within a few minutes, began to fall asleep. For the first time in weeks, Bucky slept soundly.

                             ***

It took a few days before Sam called Sarah. It wasn’t because he was putting it off or anything, he’d just been so busy.

Bucky hadn’t brought it up–hell, he’d almost forgotten about telling Sarah as a whole, that was until Sam’s reminded him.

“Hey, you wanna talk to Sarah today?” Sam asked over breakfast one morning, a few days after Bucky’s…outburst.

“Today?,” Bucky questioned, causing Sam to nod in response. “Sure.”

“Alright,” Sam smiled, moving around the kitchen island to squeeze Bucky’s shoulder. “We can talk to her later.”

Bucky offered Sam a small, crooked smile before going back to eating his sickly sweet cereal. Sam left shortly after that, going to some sort of meeting that he’d told Bucky about the night before.

Despite Bucky having grown accustomed to being alone in the apartment most days, he still found it devastatingly lonely. Although, he wasn’t entirely alone; Bucky always had the baby with him, even if she spent most days sleeping directly on his bladder or kicking ferociously against the skin of his abdomen. The baby seemed to become a lot more agitated whenever Sam wasn’t around, with her kicks becoming a lot more painful than before.

Being without Sam wasn’t unbearable, but it sure as hell wasn’t easy. Bucky usually spent the days he was alone resting around the apartment or looking online for stuff for the baby. 

It wasn’t exactly a thrilling life like his one before, but it was everything that Bucky wanted. It was so relaxing just being able to lounge around all day without having to worry about being called away for the next mission at any given moment; sure, Bucky enjoyed being a super hero–but he was starting to think that he much more preferred being a stay at home parent instead, despite not actually being a parent yet.

As the day passed by Bucky ran through his usual routine of nothingness. He slept for most of the day, and for the short periods he didn’t he was either eating, catching up on modern television or scrolling through pictures of baby rooms on Pinterest. 

By the time Sam strolled back through the door the sun was almost setting. Bucky looked up in the direction of the door, smiling warmly at Sam.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bucky spoke from the couch, catching Sam’s attention. “How was the meeting?”

“Boring,” Sam sighed, collapsing down onto the couch beside Bucky. “You’re so lucky you don’t have to do shit like that.”

“Maybe you should’ve gotten pregnant then,” Bucky joked. “Lord knows you’d be doing a better job than me.” 

Sam chuckled, shaking his head in disagreement. The room felt silent for a few moments, before Sam spoke again.

“You know, I’ve thought about that before.”

“Being…pregnant?” Bucky asked, confused by Sam’s words.

“Yeah. Before we–when we were still…,” Sam trailed off, unsure of what to say. “Before everything, I wanted to talk to you about that; about having a family. I always thought what it would be like if I was a woman, if I could have a baby with you–I never thought that it would happen, certainly not like this.”

“Believe me, I’d much rather you were pregnant than me.” Bucky spoke, causing Sam to laugh.

“Yeah,” Sam sighed, reaching over to gently caress Bucky’s knee. “But I think it’s better like this.”

“How did you…,” Bucky started. “When you thought about being…pregnant, what did you think about?”

Sam shrugged, his gaze moving away from Bucky to face the floor. “I don’t know…it was just–whenever we had sex, whenever you were on top, my mind would just…wander,” Sam confessed. “I’d just think, what if something happened? What if, somehow, we managed to make a baby? It was never anything serious, I wasn’t losing sleep at the thought or anything–it was just wishful thinking, I suppose.”

Bucky didn’t really get what Sam was saying, he didn’t understand how anyone would want to be pregnant now that he was; but then again, he wasn’t Sam. Pregnancy would look perfect on Sam, he’d take to it like a moth to a flame–god, he’d look so fucking gorgeous pregnant. Now that Sam had brought it up, Bucky couldn’t get the thought out of his head; he’d be lying if he said it didn’t cause the blood from his brain to rush down south.

“But…I guess I don’t really understand, Sam,” Bucky spoke, causing Sam to meet his gaze once again. “We both know that I…shoot blanks, so how would you think of that happening? Is it a kink thing or…?”

Sam nodded in acknowledgement of Bucky’s words. He wasn’t lying when he said he shot blanks, it wasn’t a recent development that came from trauma, or anything. As far back as Bucky could remember, he never really produced any come. 

It wasn’t that he could orgasm, he definitely could, it was just that when he would nothing would come out. It was the same in the 40s, too–although it was a pretty good thing back then (at least when Bucky wasn’t overthinking it too much). He never had to worry about getting any girls pregnant–although that wasn’t too much of a worry anyways considering the fact he’d only fucked one girl in his whole life–and he didn’t have to use a condom when being with guys.

It wasn’t always good though, especially with men. If he was getting a blow job or fucking some guy in the back alleys of Brooklyn, when he came they always thought he was faking it–no matter how much he insisted he wasn’t. It made it so that he never slept with the same guy twice because they all thought he didn’t enjoy the sex; not that he could’ve been in a relationship with a man back then, anyway.

He’d made a point of telling Sam about his…condition the first time they had sex, merely a few hours after their first kiss on the docks near Sarah’s house in Delacroix. Sam didn’t care about it, he said that as long as Bucky felt good that was all that mattered. His words were a breath of fresh air after being so insecure about not being able to prove his pleasure for so long–Sam was always so understanding.

“You know I don’t care about that, Buck–and it’s not really a kink thing, more of a…wanting to have a family with you. Wanting to have children that look like the both of us,” Sam said, turning to rest his hands on Bucky’s stomach. “And now I have just that.”

Bucky looked down at where Sam’s hands were flat against his abdomen–smiling at the feeling of their baby pressing her feet against his touch. “Children? Are you implying that you want more than one baby?”

“Maybe I am.” Sam replied, smirking.

“The only way that you’ll get that is if you carry the baby,” Bucky answered, causing Sam to chuckle. “There is no way I am doing this again.”

“We can talk about you getting me pregnant later,” Sam smirked, not missing the blush that spread over Bucky’s face at the implication of his words. “Cmon, let’s call Sarah.”

Bucky watched as Sam stood from the couch, stepping into the kitchen to retrieve his phone. His guts began bubbling with excitement–or nerves? Bucky wasn’t sure. It felt like they’d been building up to this moment ever since he and Sam had attended their first appointment together; the blurry photograph of their daughter resting in a wooden frame on Sam’s desk, besides the photo of them that had been taken only a few months after they began dating.

As Sam sat back down next to Bucky on the couch, he reached out to take his hand into his own. The contact soothed Bucky’s nerves slightly as the phone began ringing. It felt like it was hours until Sarah answered, even though it was probably only a few seconds.

“Well, well, well,” Sarah spoke, startling Bucky slightly. “If it isn’t Captain America, finally checking in with his lowly sister.”

Sam rolled his eyes at her words, snorting. “What can I say, Sarah. I’m a busy man.”

“Sure you are, Sam,” Sarah snarked. “Why are you calling anyway?”

“What, I can’t check in with my sister once in a while?” Sam replied.

“Just spit it out, Samuel.”

Sam fell quiet in response to her words, turning to look at Bucky with a fearful gaze. Bucky squeezed his hand tighter, gently taking the phone out of Sam’s shaky grip.

“Hey, Sarah.” Bucky spoke into the phone.

“Bucky!,” Sarah hummed happily. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh…me and Sam have something to tell you…” Bucky explained, inhaling deeply.

“You’re not getting married are you? Because I definitely don’t have enough time to work on wedding plans.” Sarah asked, her tone humorous.

“No,” Bucky chuckled, nudging Sam slightly. “Not yet.”

Sarah laughed, falling quiet after a moment in a silent request for Bucky to continue. Bucky felt frozen still, the reality of the situation suddenly weighing on him. He had to tell Sarah, Sam’s sister, that he was pregnant–that she was going to be expecting a niece.

The whole thing was nerve wracking, even though he knew that Sarah would probably have a similar reaction to Sam–one of confusion at first that soon transformed into immense joy. That didn’t mean it wasn’t frightening, though; having to tell anyone, let alone Sarah, about the baby always felt like the scariest thing in the world.

With a deep breath, Bucky finally spoke. “I’m pregnant, five months now. Sam’s the father–or other father, I suppose.”

The silence that followed Bucky’s confession made him squeeze his eyes shut in fear. God, it was so humiliating having to basically parade around the fact that he was a freak of nature just because he had no choice in the matter. 

Sometimes he wondered what it would be like if he had somehow gotten rid of the baby–but then he’d curse himself for even thinking about that. The baby–his daughter–was the best thing that had ever happened to him. She’d brought Bucky back to Sam, made the team come together and finally stand up to Valentina and she was teaching Bucky every day that his life was something that was still worth living.

Bucky still didn’t know how her existence was possible, but if Hydra was responsible for it–then it would be the one good thing they ever did to him; no matter what sick and twisted reasoning they had for experimenting on him like that in the first place. 

“…Really?” Sarah finally spoke, drawing Bucky out of his thoughts.

“Yeah,” Bucky breathed out, running a hand through his hair. “The doctors don't really know how it’s possible yet, but they’re working on it–.”

“Oh, you don’t have to explain yourself to me, Bucky,” Sarah cut him off, her tone laced with comfort. “I’m just–wow. I definitely wasn’t expecting this.”

Bucky chuckled, leaning against the couch in relief. “Believe me, I wasn’t either.”

Bucky turned to glance at Sam, whose face looked much calmer than it did before. Their hands were still intertwined tightly, with Bucky’s grip not faltering for a second.

It was probably for the best that they’d managed to find each other once again. Bucky couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would be like if Sam had to go through telling Sarah alone–not that Bucky would’ve told her, not without Sam’s permission.

“I know this is a lot to comprehend, Sarah,” Sam finally spoke. “But me and Buck, we’re both real happy.”

Bucky heard the distinct sound of sniffling over the phone, feeling tears cloud his own eyes at the noise.

“Oh, I’m real happy too, Sam,” Sarah said, her voice slightly shaky. “You should come down to visit some time soon, both of you. I still have some things from my pregnancy that could help you, Bucky. Especially if you’ve been having trouble sleeping.”

“We should visit,” Bucky immediately replied, sitting up on the couch–causing Sam to chuckle. “As soon as possible.”

Sarah laughed over the phone, but Bucky didn’t mind. The promise of being able to sleep at night was enough to wipe any lingering embarrassment from his reaction instantly.

“She’s been giving you a lot of trouble at night, right Buck?,” Bucky hummed in agreement. “He’s practically nocturnal at this point.”

“She?,” Sarah spoke, causing Sam and Bucky to both glance at each other in realisation. “Oh, thank god. We do not need any more boys in this family.”

Bucky chuckled at Sarah’s words, relaxing back against the couch. Bucky came to a realisation at Sarah’s words, she’d have to explain to her children that their uncle Bucky was somehow pregnant. God, Bucky didn’t even know if she’d had the talk with them yet–either way, it’d still probably be beyond confusing for them.

Bucky decided not to bring it up, assuming that Sarah would find a way of telling them herself.

Sam continued talking to Sarah on the phone for a while after, with Bucky deciding to stay quiet for the remainder of the call; too exhausted to talk any longer. By the time the call was over, Bucky was on the brink of passing out. Only not falling asleep because of Sam gently shaking his shoulder to keep him awake.

“Hey,” Sam spoke, stroking Bucky’s hair gently. “You want me to book the weekend off in a couple of weeks so we can head down to Delacroix?”

“Yeah,” Bucky murmured, leaning into Sam’s touch. “That’d be nice.”

“Alright, Baby. I’ll get to it.” Sam chuckled, putting something on the TV that Bucky tuned out instantly.

Speaking to Sarah made Bucky feel much more relaxed than before, almost like talking to Sam did–although to a lesser extent. It felt so comforting to have Sam and his family by his side throughout his pregnancy. It reminded Bucky of when his mother was pregnant with his youngest sister, Elizabeth.

Beth had been a difficult baby even when she was still in the womb, Bucky remembered his mother struggling immensely with all the hardships that the pregnancy brought on.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Jamie. You, Rebecca and Marie were never this hard.” Bucky’s mother had said to him when she was only a few weeks away from giving birth.

Bucky didn’t understand what she was talking about at the time. He was just shy of turning fourteen at the time, completely oblivious of any of the world's hardships–he’d told Steve about his mother’s complaints at the time, but he didn’t seem to know any more of what she was talking about than Bucky did.

When she went into labour, Bucky was in charge of taking care of his sisters while his father and the doctors tended to his mother in the birthing room–which was just an old mattress they’d placed on the floor in the nursery.

Bucky wasn’t there for either of his others sisters births aswell–either being sent to stay with his cousins in Manhattan or isolated to his family's apartments living room. He remembered being afraid by the blood–curdling screams that his mother was letting out, confused by why she was in so much pain. He didn’t want to think about having to go through that pain himself.

Steve and his mother had been there a lot after that, helping Bucky’s mom with the baby and his sisters whenever his dad was working. Bucky liked it at the time because it meant that he finally wasn’t the one who had to play mother when his own mom was too exhausted to take care of them; plus it meant Steve was around a lot, which was always a bonus in his eyes.

Bucky didn’t like thinking about his family too much, it felt so overwhelming. He wasn’t so sure what happened to his sisters–all he knew was that Rebecca was the only one still alive when he was freed from Hydra's control. Bucky never tried to find her, he only found out after her death that she was living in a nursing home down in Indiana. From what he’d heard, Rebecca had a family–a husband, children, grandchildren–but he never knew what happened to Beth or Marie. He didn’t want to know–fearing the worst.

Bucky never felt the need to know what happened to his parents, assuming they just passed in normal ways many years after his ‘death’. 

It felt so strange, thinking of his family–and the way they were all…gone. After Hydra, Bucky assumed that he’d never have anything that even resembled a family again; but then Sam, in all his perfectness, came along and turned everything that Bucky thought he knew on his head.

Bucky's blood family may be gone, but as long as he had Sam and his–plus the team–that was the best he ever deserved.