Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bucky sighed, staring into the one kitchen cupboard. He kept the sigh as quiet as he could, as the estate agent was still extolling the virtues of the tiny 1 bed 1 bath in ‘such a wonderful, central location’ to Becca. She was struggling to keep a straight face, and as soon as the agent turned around to gesture out of the windows, she shot a look to Bucky, somehow both incredulous and terrified. Bucky held in a laugh, and closed the dismal pantry cupboard. 

“And you will save so much money on petrol, being so close to public transport. Truly, this is a young working couple’s dream!” The agent said, smiling toothily at them. 

Bucky looked at Becca, a frowning in confusion. 

Becca looked at Bucky, mouth curled in disgust. 

“I’m sorry, what do you mean by ‘young working couple’?” Bucky asked. 

“Well, this is your first city apartment, yes? Saving up to buy your first home, I imagine?” The agent’s smile became slightly wilted. 

“We’re brother and sister?” Becca said, raising an eyebrow. Bucky hid his laugh behind his hand, as the agent’s face turned white. 

“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed-” The agent babbled, and Bucky had to turn away to stop himself laughing harder. 

“Most people think we’re twins, so it was a weird assumption,” Becca said drily. 

The agent said nothing for a moment, and then mumbled an apology, then when her phone rang, she answered it with such relief in her voice that Bucky needed to lean against the wall to stop his shoulders shaking with mirth. The agent excused herself, ducking outside to take the call, and Bucky turned back around to face Becca. 

They lasted ten seconds before they burst out into laughter. 

“What an absolute knob!” Becca giggled. 

“I can’t believe that. Working couple’s dream- what the hell is she on?” Bucky said, waving a hand at the cramped space. 
“You know, I thought it was weird that she greeted us as Mr and Miss Barnes, but she must’ve said-” Becca started.

“-Mrs Barnes!” Bucky cackled, and Becca shook her head in disbelief. “Christ. She must think we’re some kind of narcissistic couple.” 

“Right? People have never doubted we’re related,” Becca said. 

“At least we can blame her for not getting this place, instead of just flat out admitting that we can’t afford it,” Bucky said, and winced as that thoroughly soured the mood. Becca sighed, and stared out the windows that framed the just-big-enough lounge. 

“Can’t afford a fucking shoebox in London. Not even to mention that we’d have to get fucking bunkbeds or something,” she said. 

“Haven’t shared a room since we were-” Bucky started.

“-children! Right? I’m about to lose what’s left of my mind,” Becca finished. “There’s no way that we can afford to stay here.” 
“We can’t afford to move back to the States either,” Bucky added, just to further dampen spirits. 

“What the hell are we going to do, Bucks?” Becca said, and turned around. Her shoulders looked like they were trying to merge with her neck, her chin fully dropped onto her chest. 

Bucky gathered her up in his arms, hugging her tightly, and felt her loosely wrap her arms around his waist, tucking her face into his shoulder. “Hey. We’ll figure it out. We’ve got this, right?” 

Becca said something, but it was so badly muffled that it came out like ‘mmfmfmghfhfhgf’, which made him laugh, which set her off again in turn. 

They separated when the agent returned, still apologetic, but they waved her off, and left the tiny ‘central’ apartment without another word. 

“Next bus is in 5 minutes. You wanna go to Pret before heading home?” Becca said, checking the timetable on her phone. 

“God, yes. I need a coffee and a sandwich. Maybe even a Kit-Kat,” Bucky said, feeling his stomach pang with hunger. “I don’t remember eating this morning.” 

“You didn’t, you had a coffee.” 

“Ah. That explains the way my stomach is trying to eat itself.” 

Becca guffawed, punching his arm. “What’re you liiiiiike?!” She sing-songed, laying on a cockney accent as thick as she could. Bucky nudged her right back, and they devolved into a very childish game of pushing each other back and forth until the bus pulled up. 

-

Bucky managed to get a late afternoon shift last minute, and so was quick to change once he got home and head back out, thankful that it was a weekday and the bar wouldn’t be packed with ‘the lads’. They even managed to close up before 11, so he could get the tube home with no problems. He supposed that his luck had leaned that way today, considering that his and Becca’s lease was up in three weeks and they still had no where to move afterwards, and that both of them, with their dual degrees, could not get jobs anywhere. 

Becca was still awake when he got home, and she pointed at the leftovers from dinner she had put aside for him on the bench. He kissed her head in thanks, and popped the plate in the microwave while he went to go shower. 

Becca was still bent over her laptop when he emerged, towelling off his hair. “Is that the thesis or the house hunt?” He asked, hanging the towel over the back of his chair, and grabbing his food. 

“Thesis, combined with internship applying. This place mentions they mostly work outside London, so I would have to use the car like every day,” Becca said, sighing. She looked over the top of her laptop at Bucky, worry creasing her brow. “You know, I think I made a mistake, thinking I could actually get experience on a site in the country I’m writing my thesis on.” 

“No, no, don’t think like that,” Bucky tried to soothe. “Listen, everyone’s struggling right now. Archaeology is still an important field, especially in Europe.” 

“England’s not in Europe, Bucky,” Becca said, a twitch of a smile on her lips. “Isn’t that what everyone keeps saying?” 

“Shut it, you,” Bucky replied, nudging her knee with his foot. “Next time I won’t be so comforting.” 

“Oh no!” Becca feigned horror. Bucky chuckled, and then tucked into the pasta she’d made while Becca went back to her thesis work. 

Eventually Becca closed her laptop with a sigh, and it was apparently sad enough that her dog, Booker, emerged from his hidey-hole and came bolting over, whining. “Hi bubba, hi honey,” Becca crooned to the dachshund, and picked him up to rest on her lap. His tiny paws leaned on her chest, while he dedicated himself to licking every part of her face, setting her off giggling and gently trying to pull him away. 

Bucky pretended to gag when he passed, and Becca flipped him off, finally managing to get Booker to sit down, rather than continue his attempt at cleaning her face. “You got work in the morning?” Bucky asked, dumping his bowl in the sink and filling it with water to “soak”. 

Becca sighed again, and scritched Booker’s ears. “Yeah. Only six hours though. Unless you can pick up another couple shifts we might be late paying rent again.” 

“Or we could dip into the savings?” Bucky suggested. Becca shook her head. 

“We need that for bond and first month’s rent, in case the landlord here decides to be a real dick about it.” 

“We’re gonna need a place first before we consider that,” Bucky pointed out, and accepted the dirty look Becca threw him.

“Yes, I’m aware, Buck.” Becca tucked her face into her dog’s, and Bucky could hear his tail thump into the table leg. “But unless we look outside of London, or somehow someone has one up for under a grand a month, we’re pretty much fucked.” 

She was right, but Bucky did not have the where-withal tonight to really consider how deeply they were in trouble, so instead he kissed the top of his sister’s head. “Tomorrow’s a new day. Let’s...let’s just sleep and we’ll see how we go. Yeah?” 

Becca lifted her head, and smiled grimly. “Yeah.” She picked Booker up to pop him back down on the floor. “Yeah, I’m exhausted. And I’ve gotta get up in six hours.” 

Bucky wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Come on then, kiddo, let’s get you to sleep.” 

Becca scowled. “You are one year older than me!” 

“That year makes all the difference!” 

“No, it doesn’t! I’m way more mature.” Booker barked. “Booker agrees with me!” 

“You would take her side, demon hound.” 

“Hey! Be nice to him!” 

“I’m so nice to him!” 

Booker barked again. 

“He disagrees,” Becca said, grinning triumphantly. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m a cat person anyway,” Bucky pretend-grumbled, and squeezed Becca’s shoulders once she got up, grumbling for real. She hugged him good night, and then headed off for her room, Booker trotting behind her, panting happily. Bucky made sure her laptop was plugged in to charge, that the dishes were soaking, ready for him to do in the morning, and then headed to his own room. 

Lying on the table, as it always was, was the letter of recommendation his professor had sent him, back when Bucky was planning on doing his Masters. The whole reason for moving here, the reason he had started his degree in history in the first place. Even looking at his two degrees sometimes hurt, considering it was year 2 in England and he wasn’t any closer to getting paid for knowing the exact building methods of the 16th century. 

So instead of doing what Becca did, and throwing himself back into the job search, he turned on his PlayStation, and threw himself back into his third playthrough of Dragon Age. 

-

The shrill ringing of his phone woke him up the next day, and Bucky moaned trying to blindly find it on his bedside table, managing to hit everything else before finding it. He looked at the number, didn’t recognise it, and groaned, hoping this wasn’t someone asking him for money.

“‘Lo?” He mumbled, answering it.

“Is this James Barnes?” A man asked, older sounding.

“Mmmhm?” Bucky managed, through a yawn. 

“Terribly sorry to have woken you, I assumed that now would be a fine time to call?”

“What time ‘sit?” 

“Midday.” 

Bucky winced. God, he must seem like the laziest man alive. “Yeah, yeah, sorry, I work nights so-” 

“My apologies again. I could call back later, if you would prefer that?” 

“No, no, now’s good. I’m awake. Who’re you?” Bucky said, forcing himself to sit upright, and rubbing his eyes. 

“My name is Henry Bainbry, I’m the executor of your great-uncle’s will.” Bucky blinked. Great uncle? What great uncle? Wait, will? “Frederick Barner-Gold. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Uh...thanks?” Bucky had no idea who he was talking about. What Barner-Gold? 

“Now, because he left no heirs, his will states that his estate goes to the next closest relative. And looking down at the family tree, it would appear that it is you.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” Bucky sat up straighter. staring at his TV like it would suddenly turn on and explain just what the hell was going on. 

“Frederick Barner-Gold’s own great uncle, your great-grandfather, left Germany for America, and thus your own family line was started there. You are the eldest left of the family line, in fact. If you were not available, it would go to your sister...Rebecca? If I am reading this correctly.” 

“How- What-” Bucky’s brain hurt trying to understand all of this, and he could at least blame that on being woken up. 

“I can explain in more detail when you come into the office, but for now, allow me to offer condolences once again. Would you be able to come in tomorrow?” 

“Uh- yes, yes, but before that-” Bucky scrambled to stand up, suddenly filled with restless nervous energy that he just had to pace out. He left his room, and Booker immediately got up, following him while he paced. “What exactly was left in the will to us?” 

“Well...everything. The house, the grounds, whatever possessions were left inside-” Henry Bainbry started, but Bucky was quick to cut him off. 

“Wait, what house? What grounds?” Bucky’s heart thumped in his chest, nervous and hopeful.

“The Barner-Gold family residence in Germany. Unfortunately the manor in Bucharest was sold to pay for debts a few years ago, and this is the only one that remains, but I’m sure it will...” Henry kept talking, but Bucky was no longer listening. 

A house. A house in Germany, mind you, but a house! He and Becca both spoke enough conversational German to get by, and they could both find work there- This could solve everything!

“Yes, yes I will be in tomorrow. We both will, me and Rebecca. Where- where are we going?” Bucky said, cutting into Henry’s rambling speech, but he seemed unperturbed. He gave Bucky the address for his firm, they settled on a time, and he hung up with one last condolences, but Bucky barely heard it. 

Bucky managed to distract himself until Becca got home, half an hour later, and then as soon as she had put her bag down, he launched himself at her and picked her up, swinging her around. She squealed, laughing more out of shock than joy. 

“Bucky, what the hell?” She said, once Bucky had put her down and was grinning hugely at her.

“We have a house, Becs!” He said, and Becca’s mouth dropped open.

“What? How? How much a month? When do we move?” Becca rattled off, looking confused, surprised and yet Bucky could see the joy and relief beginning to form. 

“Nothing! We own it!” Bucky said, pumping his arms in the air in victory.

Becca froze, staring at him. “What?” She asked, voice flat.

“We own a house! In Germany!” Bucky yelled excitedly. 

Becca frowned so hard her nose could nearly touch her brow. “What?”

-

Bucky filled Becca in enough, that when they went to Bainbry Firm, she was no longer looking at Bucky like he was crazy, but she was still doubtful that the situation was as real as Bucky knew it to be. 

“I’m just saying, mum and dad never mentioned any family in Germany. And for us to need a house and to suddenly get one? It seems way too good to be true,” Becca said, as they waited by the elevator, scuffing her boots on the floor. The receptionist was giving her dirty looks every time the soles squeaked on the tiled floor. 

“Mum and dad never spoke about any other family at all, besides grandad and grandma. We knew had roots over here, why else would they speak Romanian at home?” Bucky pointed out. 

“Yeah, but- Germany? Why Germany?” Becca questioned again.

“It’s right on the border of the Czech Republic, it was probably built there before Germany was Germany,” Bucky said. 

“Yes, but why are we entitled to it? Bucky, we’re gonna get in there and he’s gonna say it was all a mistake,” Becca said, reluctantly following Bucky into the elevator when it arrived. 

Bucky pushed the button for the fourth floor. “He said if I wasn’t available it would’ve gone to you, so I think he definitely knows it’s meant to be our family.” 

“Barner-Gold is not anything like our last name,” Becca said, and now Bucky knew she was at the very bottom of her excuses. 

“Barner? Barnes?” He said, and Becca made a scathing noise, and crossed her arms. Bucky squeezed her elbow gently. “Hey, the worst thing that can happen is that he tells us he made a mistake. Okay? Then we go back to house hunting in London. Otherwise, we have a house in Germany, which opens up our options for work. You can go looking for the ruins of the Holy Roman Empire, and I can indulge in all the Gothic architecture I want.” 

Becca looked at him, twisting her lips in thought, and then butted her head into his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. When did you get so reasonable?” 

“I don’t know where you’ve been, I’ve always been like this,” Bucky said smugly, and Becca gave him a withering look. 

The elevator opened, and once they were in a very fancy lobby, another receptionist greeted them, asked their tea preference, and then ushered them towards an office. Bucky felt a little bit like a sheep being herded, but it was at least a very nice feeling. 

“Ah, Mr and Miss Barnes, I presume?” The man sitting behind the desk stood as Bucky and Becca entered, and rounded said desk to hold out his hand. “Henry Bainbry, we spoke on the phone.” 

Bucky shook his hand firmly, trying to remember what his dad said about a strong handshake. “James is fine.” 

“James, then,” Henry said warmly, and then let go to take Becca’s hand. 

“Rebecca,” Becca said, and Henry smiled at her too. 

“James and Rebecca, lovely to meet you both. Please, sit.” He went back behind the desk, and the siblings sat in the rather plush chairs in front of it. “Now, first of all, condolences for your loss.” 

Bucky and Becca murmured a thanks, Bucky still not sure how to feel about the death of a family member he never knew existed. 

“To business. Here is a copy of the will, for your perusal. You will note that he mentioned nothing of his brother, however, he insisted that property belongs to the next in the family line-” Henry started, but Becca cut in, Bucky wincing at her brusqueness. 

“Henry, sorry, but are you sure we are in the family line at all? We’ve never heard of this side. As far as we were aware, dad was the only immigrant from Europe,” she said, and Bucky tried not to physically cringe. 

“Oh! Would you like to see the family tree?” Henry asked, already turning around to rifle through a drawer behind him. 

“Yes, that would set my mind at ease plenty,” Becca said, and batted away Bucky’s hand when he tried to pinch her in warning. 

Henry found what he was looking for, and then unrolled a very long piece of paper, seemingly glued together to extend it. He lay out the section towards the end in front of them, and pointed out where the Barner-Gold’s had split off to create the Barnes family. “See, he had to change his name when he left Germany, to prevent any connections to his brother. Or at least, he must’ve felt that way.” Henry then pointed out when their grandfather was born, and then their own mother. “And here is where correspondence stopped.” 

Becca leaned over the tree, peering at it closely, and Bucky watched her eyes trace over the line over and over again. Bucky was just stuck on the idea that somehow he was related to royalty. A dead royal line, fine, but still!

“Why is it James and not our mother?” Becca asked, and Bucky had to admit that she had a point.

“Ah well. This is something of a loophole we had to exploit. Lord Barner-Gold had said the next one in line was to inherit his estate, but no one from your great-grandfather’s line. The way this was written seemed to infer not blood, but location. So, if we take that to mean no one in your family in America, rather than here-”

“So, because we moved here...we get the estate?” Becca asked, tone flat but face shocked. 

“Precisely. Perhaps a little underhanded, but I can’t say that the late Lord Barner-Gold would mind now.” 

Becca turned to face Bucky, eyes wide. “Buck...we have an estate,” she said weakly.

Bucky let out a laugh, joy and relief bubbling up in his chest. “Oh my god, Becs, we have a home!”

“In Germany!” She squealed, and Bucky leapt up to hug her, Becca squeezing back just as tightly. 

“Jesus, Henry-” Bucky half pulled away from Becca, to face the bemused looking lawyer. “We can’t begin to tell you how much we needed this- we-” 

Henry’s face fell somewhat, and he coughed uncomfortably. “Yes, well, I had thought you would sell the place. I hadn’t realised you would intend to live in it.” 

Bucky and Becca pulled away enough to face Henry both, Bucky keeping an arm around Becca. “What do you mean?” Becca asked, voice taking on that dangerous note it did whenever she was even a little unsure. 

Henry opened a file, and pushed it over to them, Becca picking up the papers at the front. ‘SURVEYOR’S REPORT’ it had on the front. “The house is in severe disrepair. It would need a lot of work to be liveable, and even then, a lot of work to be maintained. You would be best to sell it, I know several hotel chains that would be interested in acquiring a country estate such as that..” While Henry talked, Becca flipped through the report, frowning as she read through just how run down the place was, but Bucky stopped listening as he saw the building itself. 

“It’s a castle?” He spluttered, picking up the photo of the building, run down and greenery-covered, but still incredibly grand, nestled in a pine forest, the mountains rising majestically around it. 

“I believe it is a hunting lodge,” Henry said, and Becca squawked when she saw the picture herself. 

“That- that’s a hunting lodge?” She said, flummoxed. 

“Bohemian, if I’m not mistaken?” Bucky said, and Henry seemed impressed. 

“Yes, built in the 14th century. You know your architecture,” he said, and Bucky nodded.

“I did my thesis on 16th century, but I’ve always been fascinated by Bohemia,” he mumbled, picking up the following photos behind it. The inside did look somewhat run down, but it was still incredibly beautiful. “Becs, the things we could find here.”

“Yeah, yeah I think we’ll hold off on the selling it, Henry,” Becca said, staring at a photo of the brick wall surrounding the outside.

Henry seemed more amused than anything else. “Well, it is your estate. You may do whatever you wish with it.” 

Becca grabbed Bucky’s arm, and Bucky knew her look of amazement was matched on his own. “We have a castle.”

“We have a castle,” he replied, and then they both burst into laughter, making Henry jump nearly a foot in the air. 

Chapter Text

Becca put herself in charge of planning the route to the hunting lodge/castle, making sure that their tiny car would be able to make the journey, while Bucky organised the moving van for their furniture, and sorted out the legalities for two US/Romanian nationals to live in Germany. There was also a pair up towards the end of the day to call around family members, who for some reason had to hear from the both, and got well wishes from their mum, and a few dire warnings from their dad that Bucky wasn’t sure if he should take seriously or not. 

After that, the last week of their lease was spent collapsing all the furniture they could, and bubble-wrapping anything breakable. Becca got sick of taking apart her bedframe after an hour of trying to pull the frame apart, and then when Bucky went to help and demonstrated that she had been doing it wrong, she chased him out of the room with one of her many decorative pillows, Booker barking happily at the fun game. 

“Hey,” Bucky said later, knocking on her open door, hoping she wasn’t holding anything throwable. Becca looked up from organising her books in a box. “I’ve got some stuff that won’t fit in my suitcase, have you got some room in yours?” 
“Why don’t you use one of the packing boxes?” Becca asked, adding another book, this one on the political backdrop behind the second World War, to her box. 

Bucky made a noncommittal noise. “It’s not enough stuff to justify it.” 

“What is it?” Becca asked, sounding like she almost didn’t want to know. 

Bucky went back to his room, and picked up his knitting supplies, neatly packed away in their carry case. He went back to Becca, and handed it over. 

“Yeah, that’s fine. Have you got your current project in here?” She leaned over to a different box, and snugly tucked the case between two pillows, the top one shaped like a cloud. 

“Nah, I figured I’d need something to do on the car trip while not driving.” 

“Smart. I’m planning on sleeping.”

“Even smarter,” Bucky said with a grin. He leaned against the door, and watched as Becca packed up the last of her books, and then started taping up the four boxes she had in her very bare room. “Movers will be here at 8 on Wednesday.” 

“They can’t come any earlier?” Becca frowned, and Bucky knew she was thinking of the already long journey they had to go on, let alone one that wasn’t going to start at the crack of dawn. 

“No, but it’s fine, Becs. They’ve got good reviews, and they’ll be right behind us the whole way. At least, until they stop for the night,” Bucky said, trying to soothe Becca’s worries a little. She was always anxious about planning and organising. 

“Yeah, yeah. Just means that we’re spending the first night without furniture. Maybe we should stop overnight?” Becca said, rubbing a finger on the edge of one box. 

“If you like, but that would involve changing your plans two days out,” Bucky pointed out. He wasn’t trying to be unkind, but Becca did not like last minute changes, and he didn’t want her to have to worry about anything but getting to the lodge. And then making it liveable. 

“Yeah. Yeah, true. And we’ve got our camping gear for the first night. And all of Booker’s necessities-” Booker barked, wagging his tail furiously, thrilled to be mentioned. “-yes, bubba, we wouldn’t forget you.” 

“It’s gonna be fine. We’ve got everything covered, everything’s packed, we’ve just got to supervise the movers packing everything and then we’re home free.” Bucky hugged his sister, rubbing a hand along her back, feeling how tense she was. 

“Yeah, I know. I can’t help worrying. I’ll stop once we’re actually settled in,” Becca said, squeezing Bucky once, before turning around to look at her bare room. “Fuck. Never realised how much stuff I actually had, now that it’s all in boxes.”

“Tell me about it. For all my complaints about never having anything to play, I have a fuckton of games I’ve never touched,” Bucky agreed, and Becca laughed once. 

“Yeah, well, I could’ve told you that,” she teased, and Bucky pinched her side in retaliation. She pretended to be put out, and bumped her hip to his. “You want Thai for dinner?” 

“Oh, god yes. Who knows when the next time we’ll be able to get take out will be,” Bucky said, half moaning the yes. 

Becca pretended to swoon, gasping in horror. “How will we survive without delivery?” She decreed, and then stopped, and looked back at Bucky. “How are we going to survive without delivery?” 

“Yeah, good point. I guess we are going to have to learn how to cook more than just pasta,” Bucky mused, and got a horrible noise from Becca that made him laugh, Booker joining in with barks, jumping up at them both. 

-

They slept on Bucky’s mattress Tuesday night, laid out in the middle of the packed up living room. Booker snored away between them, though thankfully more in Becca’s ear than Bucky’s. Becca had set an alarm for 6 the next morning, and they both yawned and stumbled their way through showering and dressing, before packing up the last of their things to go in the car. 

Then, while Becca went through her checklist at the car, Bucky went around the flat to take photos of it, so that they had proof they’d left it in the best state they could. While they could survive off their combined savings long enough until they could sort out employment or a few historical restoration grants Becca could apply for through her professor, Bucky wanted that bond back from this place. They deserved it, they’d been neat and tidy renters, and quiet to boot! 

Becca remerged half an hour before the movers were due to arrive, two coffees and a pastry bag in hand. “Figured we should have breakfast now, that way once the guys are done, we can get going,” she said, handing Bucky one cup, and handing over a croissant once he had that in hand. 

Bucky took a sip of the coffee, and groaned happily. “Yes, the wake up juice, thank you sweet sister.” 

Becca snorted. “Gross.” 

They sat on the floor, Booker staring at them hopefully, launching at every scrap of pastry that fell on the ground. “You’d think you didn’t feed him,” Bucky commented. 

“He makes me look like a bad parent,” Becca agreed, scowling playfully at her dog, and then leaned down to kiss his head. 

He jumped up and tried to lick her in return, Becca dodging it with practiced ease. “No, no dog saliva today, thank you very much.” Booker didn’t seem scolded in the slightest, but let his tongue loll out in a doggy smile. 

For all he preferred cats, Bucky had to say that Booker was a pretty clear exception. 

A quick sweep, a last trash run, and then Booker was leashed up to Becca, ready for the movers to arrive. Considering that as soon as Bucky brought them up, Booker tried to run at them, barking, it was good thing that his leashed was tied around Becca’s waist, and she stood as far from the front door as the flat allowed. 

The movers laughed good-naturedly at the tiny dog trying to savage them, and then with Bucky and Becca’s direction, got everything loaded up in an hour. Becca had to check the flat three times, and Bucky had to laugh at how confused she seemed by the speed. 

“We don’t actually have that much stuff, and we prepacked most of it, Becs,” he said gently, as Becca emerged from her empty bedroom, brow furrowed. 

“It took us like...three weeks to sort everything, I’m just making sure!” She said, sticking her head in Bucky’s room. 

“Or, you can trust that we prepared well, and now we can start our ten hour drive?” Becca shot him a look, but joined him at the door. 

“Yeah, fine, we’re that good and they’re that fast. Goodbye, shit hole!” She declared, waving around the main room. Booker barked once, and Bucky thought that was a more than appropriate send off. 

“Come on, you two,” Bucky said, wrapping his arm around Becca’s shoulders, and tugging her out the door. Becca locked up behind them, and they both dropped their keys into the locked mailbox for the landlord to collect, and then headed out onto the street, where the movers were locking up the van. 

“So, we’re gonna stop around 6pm tonight, and then the set off again at 8 tomorrow. Should get up to the place around midday?” One of them said, looking mostly at Becca. Bucky approved of that decision. 

Becca opened the planner on her phone, and wrote that in. “Yeah, sure thing. Has accommodation been paid for?” 

“Yep, we included it as part of the final cost. Your brother said he sent you the quote?” The guy actually looked nervous, and Bucky didn’t blame him. Becca was terrifying when she got going. 

Becca nodded. “Cool. Sorted.” She locked her phone, and stowed it in her backpack, before smiling nervously at the movers. “Then we’ll see you tomorrow! You’ve got our numbers, if anything happens or you have questions or whatever.” 

“Yes, we made doubly sure,” the mover said, looking relieved. “We’ll shoot through a message when we’re on our way tomorrow morning.” 

“Awesome, thanks guys!” Becca said.

“Yeah, thank you. See you tomorrow,” Bucky added, and then they both waved as the truck pulled away. Once it had turned the corner of their street, Bucky and Becca walked down the other way, to their little car, packed to the gills with everything they and Booker would need tonight. “You driving first?” Bucky asked, as Becca pulled their keys out of her bag. 

“Yeah, it’ll make me settle a bit,” she said, and Bucky could hear the nervousness in her voice. 

“Hey, it’s just an adventure of a different sort. And worst comes to worse, we can sell it, buy up something in Greater London. The worst that can happen is that we sleep like shit tonight,” Bucky tried to soothe as they got in the car, Booker immediately scrambling over to sit on his lap once Becca took his leash off. 

“Or the roof caves in and we are crushed to death,” Becca said, and Bucky sighed dramatically. Becca tossed her backpack at his feet, and slammed the door shut, her hands gripping the steering wheel. Her knuckles were white, and Bucky grabbed Booker and held him up to her face, so he could immediately start attacking it with many, many slobbery kisses.

“Ack! Booker!” Becca squealed, trying to fend him off, giggling. Bucky pulled him back slightly, and nearly dropped him as he desperately wiggled to get back to her. 

“Stop it. We’re gonna be fine!” Bucky assured, and Becca looked over to him with a small smile. 

“Yeah. Yeah, we are. And it’s an adventure!” She said, not sounding as confident as Bucky felt, but at least she wasn’t looking so worried anymore. 

“You know what we need? Car jams,” Bucky declared, and grabbed the cord that eternally hung from the AUX input. 

“Oh god, did you make a playlist?” Becca groaned, turning the engine on and buckling her seatbelt. 

“No. I made three!” Bucky said eagerly, opening up the first one. 

Immediately, Spice Girls started blasting through the car, and Bucky grinned at Becca’s surprised laughter.

They shouted along to the music once Becca got the GPS going, and it was to that terrible symphony that they set off, driving through London for the last time. 

--

Bucky switched over to a slower, calmer playlist once they hit the Eurotunnel, and Becca hummed along while Bucky worked on his knitting. Eventually, he put it aside and closed his eyes, lowering his seat back enough to sleep somewhat comfortably. Even Booker was warm, comforting weight on his lap, and he was able to get a few hours in. Becca woke him up when she stopped for fuel, so they could grab terrible wilted sandwiches and another round of coffee. 

Bucky offered to drive, and Becca gratefully accepted, yawning almost the second she got comfortable in the passenger seat, despite the coffee. Bucky smiled fondly over at her, curled on her side, Booker huffing in his sleep, cocooned in her lap. 

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel along to the music, and tried to entertain himself by making up stories about each village they drove through, about the strangely gnarled trees. There was the odd lonesome house, but the one that really caught Bucky’s attention was one right on the border of a thick forest. “Gotta be a witch living there. Or it’s really fucking haunted,” Bucky chuckled to himself. 

“Mmm?” Becca mumbled, sleepily. 

“Nothing, Becs. Go back to sleep,” Bucky said, quietly. 

“Mmphm,” Becca replied, smacking her lips and yawning. 

The sun started to go down as they hit the Belgium-Germany border, and Bucky woke Becca up once they got through the border checkpoint. Once through, Bucky found the nearest place to stop for dinner, and once they ate through the cheap burger and fries, they stopped by a supermarket to stock up on some basics for the next day, though Bucky made very sad eyes at the ice cream and cheeses. No refrigeration tonight, he reminded himself, scowling at the longlife milk and four packets of pasta. Becca had already packed Booker’s biscuits, but she grabbed a couple of small tins of wet food, and a few different treats. “To settle him,” she explained, but Bucky would’ve done the same thing for absolutely no reason. 

Becca used her prepaid debit card to pay, as they hadn’t worked out their bank swap yet, and once they had shoved the groceries in wherever they could fit, Bucky got back behind the wheel, Becca lifting the passenger seat back up, as they drove closer to the Czech border, the sun disappearing entirely and the stars getting brighter. 

They left the well-lit highway a few hours later, having to turn down a small road that wound its way through the forest. Bucky heard a soft whine from Booker, and a rustle. Becca must’ve squeezed him a little too tightly. 

The forest thinned a little as the GPS chimed that they were half an hour out, and soon there was a mountain range ahead of them. “The Lusatians,” Becca said, and Bucky made a noise, hopefully to prompt her into continuing. “Or the Zittau. Depending on which side you are.”

“That’s where our ancestors would hunt wild boar? Maybe a reindeer or two?” Bucky said, grinning at Becca, before firmly turning his attention back to the road. It was starting to get rougher and thinner the closer they got to the mountains. 

“It’s a nature reserve now, so don’t even think about re-enacting that, even if you are Lord Barnes now,” Becca replied, and Bucky stuck his tongue out in response, gratified to hear a giggle from her. 

Bucky slowed the car down as they got to the first bit of the incline, listening hard to the engine. He’d fought his dad on learning to drive a manual as a teenager, but now, in his early 20’s, he couldn’t be more grateful for it, knowing that when the engine started to wheeze like that, it was time to change gear. Luckily, the road wasn’t too full of twists, and then once they got above the treeline, it was a straight shot to the hunting lodge. 

And by god and all the other guys up there, was it a fucking sight. 

Rising up into the sky, the buttresses framed by stars, was maybe not the largest castle, but certainly one of the more heavily reinforced and stunning stone-work manors Bucky had ever seen, and that included pictures. As they got closer, the evidence of age and wear were more obvious, especially in the completely destroyed portcullis and tower next to it, but the road into the courtyard was clear, so they could drive straight in, and park directly in front of the main building. 

Bucky killed the engine, but left the lights on, so that he and Becca could sit in amazed silence, staring at the building and the courtyard, magnificent even in the dark. Bucky unbuckled his belt and got out, and turned around on the spot a few times, marvelling at the way the walls had remained so intact, despite the years. 

The passenger side opened, and there was an explosion of noise as Booker took off on a run, doing laps around the courtyard, barking excitedly. Bucky almost went to shush him, but then remembered they were up in the mountains with no one else around for possibly miles. 

“I am torn between being absolutely floored by the beauty and history of this place, and remembering every single horror movie set in an abandoned castle,” Becca said, and Bucky laughed. 

“Fuck you so much, that’s all I’ll be able to think about now,” he said, and Becca laughed too, grinning over at him. 

“Hey, siblings who piss themselves in fear together, stay together. That’s how that goes, right?” She said, and Bucky rolled his eyes at her. 

“Come on, let’s go see what rooms are liveable for tonight,” he said, reaching into the car to grab his phone, switching on the flashlight. Becca did the same, and they left the car (with the headlights still on), and ventured inside, Booker following, seemingly done with his insane laps of the courtyard.

Once inside, Bucky followed Becca’s lead, since she had taken a photo of the map of the house, and whistled at the finely carved stone that adorned the walls of the foyer. “Okay, the kitchen is through here,” Becca said, and there was a few noises of her slapping her hand on stone, and then a buzzing noise, and then Bucky was blinking spots out of his eyes at the sudden flood of light. 

His sight clear, he took a look around the room, hissing a little in worry. The kitchen was...old. Not ancient, like the lodge, but old as in covered in dust, wood rotting here and there, and the oven/stovetop in the corner was one he had seen at museums. It was big enough, at least, that their dining table would fit snugly within it, but most of the counters would need to be replaced. The whole thing needed a thorough clean before any cooking took place in here. 

“Jesus,” Becca said, like an afterthought. Bucky agreed with her. 

“At least we have electricity,” he said, giving himself the job of optimist. It wouldn’t be good if they were both listing the bad on their first night here. 

“There is that. And we can prep food on the dining table until we get the cabinets sorted,” Becca said, and Bucky was proud of her for following his lead. 

She went ahead of him again, heading down a hallway, both of them stowing their phones once Becca located the light switches, and then she pushed through a set of double doors, into what was once a study perhaps, but was now dominated only by a ratty sofa, and a properly ancient TV and VCR. 

“Well. Possibly the oldest things we’ve found this far,” Bucky said, and Becca giggled. 

“Not what I was expecting, honestly, though I guess someone was actually living here,” she mused, wrinkling her nose at the sofa. 

“I think maybe we leave the rest of the exploring to tomorrow? Let’s bring our stuff in and get that sorted for now,” Bucky suggested, weirdly more put off by the sofa and TV set than by the broken down kitchen. Becca seemed tired too, so Bucky wasn’t surprised when she agreed, and they went back out to the car to grab their air mattress, sleeping bags, and Booker’s bed, not that he would use it. 

Bucky hooked the air pump up to the car, and turned the engine on so he could fill the mattress. It started up with a loud, dominate whine, and Becca winced against the noise, Bucky laughing at her face. She poked her tongue out at him, flipped him off, and then grabbed the rest of the bedding and took it inside. Bucky pulled the rest of their stuff out, the boxes and bags of food, changes of clothes, and both of their backpacks. 

All of a sudden he was being spun around, and for one moment he was actually scared that some horror movie monster had jumped out to kill him, and was nearly relieved to see Becca, until he saw the terror on her own face.

“Booker’s gone! I can’t find him!” She shouted over the air pump. Bucky’s blood went cold with fear.

“What?” He shouted back. 

“He’s gone! He was in that lounge room when we came back out but now he’s gone!” Bucky could see tears in her eyes, and immediately went to turn the air pump off. 

“Call him now!” Bucky said, once the air was quiet. 

“Booker! Books? Where are you, bubba?” Becca yelled, her voice shaky. Bucky joined in, calling out the dog’s name, not letting himself think the worst. 

There was a few moments of quiet, and then there was a series of barks, from deep inside the building. Becca took off, nearly bouncing off the wall as she turned the corner, and Bucky tried to stay as close as he could on her tail. She kept calling out to her dog, so that he would keep responding, and several times both she and Bucky would barrel into an undiscovered room, and he wouldn't be in there. Bucky was barely keeping track of the rooms they found, with how quickly they were immediately tearing off into the next one, and he knew Becca wouldn't be remembering any better. 

Then, finally, they pushed into a very large, grand room in severe disrepair, and in the middle of the room, a very small dog with a very big voice, barking at the far wall, his hackles raised, and his tail pointing straight up. 

“Books! Booker, bubba, you frightened me!” Becca cried, and Bucky heard the smallest trace of a sob. God, he was about ready to cry himself. Booker was like his nephew. 

Becca ran to her dog, kneeling down when she was close, and went to scoop him into her arms, but he just skittered away, growling at the same wall. Now, he made sure to keep himself between Becca and the wall, like he was protecting her from something. 

“Booker? Bubba, I'm here, come here, tiny,” Becca urged, trying to soothe the tiny oblong of fury. Bucky squinted, trying to see if there was anything or anyone on the wall, but the lights weren't dim enough to cast a shadow that large. The wall, the entire room, was bare, except for a threadbare, dust covered rug, and one couch pushed up against the wall. Bucky went to move closer to the back wall, wondering if maybe a bird or mouse was in the room and Booker could smell it, but Booker danced in front of him, almost trying to herd him back towards the door, while snarling and snapping at the wall. 

Bucky turned a confused, but entertained look on Becca, who had practically closed her eyes with how hard she was squinting at the wall. 

“Ghosts?” Bucky said, as Booker jumped forward once, snapping at something. 

“Booker, that's enough!” Becca said, voice stern, and Booker dropped his defensive stance, and gave her a soulful, sad look, with a matching whine. “Oh, stop that. Come here,” she soothed, and held out her arms so the dog could scamper into her arms, and she hugged him close, kissing his head. “You are such a silly animal.”

Booker made a ‘wuff’ noise, and snarled one last time at the wall.

“Oh, ghosts for sure. At least two,” Bucky continued, and Becca laughed. 

“We haunted as fuuuuuuuck,” she drawled.

“I suppose sleeping up here is out, then?” Bucky asked, as he led the way back out to their car, listening to Becca kiss her dog’s head over and over. 

“Do you wanna get woken up by grumpy pants here?” Becca said, softening her words with a nuzzle to her dog’s head. Booker ‘wuffed’ again, and let his tongue loll out in a doggy grin.

“Yeah, point. Set up in the slightly less creepy TV room?”

Becca nodded. “At least we’ll see the girl from the Ring coming.”

Bucky shuddered. “No, don't put that in my head!”

Becca’s laugh was mocking and superior, and if she hadn't been holding Booker, Bucky would've noogied her. 

--

Bucky usually didn’t sleep the greatest, but having worked afternoons and nights for the last few months he was at least usually able to sleep through sun rising. Instead, as soon as the smallest strain of grey light came through the filthy windows, Bucky was wide awake. 

Well, between the light, the unfamiliar place they were, and sharing a bed with his sister and her dog. Becca didn’t snore, but the extra heat under their shared blanket was enough to be stifling. Booker, however, was not just extra heat, but hot, wet breath on his face and the occasionally foot in his neck. Bucky could not be more thankful that tonight they’d at least be able to sleep in separate beds. 

He carefully and quietly slipped out of from under the blanket, and then out of his sleeping bag, and crept from the room, turning back to see Becca make a truly adorable noise, before rolling over to smash her face into Booker’s belly. Booker’s tail thumped happily at that, and Bucky grinned, and made his way down the hall, slipping into his shoes before heading out to the car and their food supplies. Neither of them had felt comfortable leaving food in what was probably a rat or worse infested kitchen. 

Bucky went through their bags from last night, pouting sadly at the coffee grounds, remembering that their kettle wouldn’t be here until midday, and settled on the bottle of orange juice and a muesli bar, while he checked his phone signal. There must be a ranger’s station or something close by enough, as his cell signal was full. No 4G though, but that was to be expected. What telcom is putting upgraded cell towers on mountains? 

Once his meagre breakfast was done, Bucky grabbed the map Becca had used last night, and decided to go for a roam himself. He did tug on an extra jacket, feeling the cold beginning to creep through his jumper, and then also decided to swap his Birkenstocks for his work boots. He could remember his first time on a dig site, wearing sneakers. After hours and hours on the unforgivingly hard ground, when he had taken off his shoes and found blisters the size of golf balls, he had made the decision to never again. 

He decided to head up onto the second floor of the main building, noting that the stone stairs were amazingly intact, but the wooden supports either side had crumbled away, leaving the skeleton of what they once were. The main landing on the top was little more than a hallway, but was remarkably well lit by a window at one end. Whoever built the place was clearly aware of the difficulties of keeping stone buildings well-lit. Bucky would have to delve more into the history of this place. He would also definitely have to find out its’ original name, what with the carvings above the doors. He strained up on his toes, trying to peer closer at it. The main part was a wolf, that was clear enough, but on either side- it could be arms, or wheat, and in terms of a coat of arms, those mean two very different things. 

Leaving it for now, Bucky ducked into the first room, gentle with the worm-eaten wooden door. The hinges practically shrieked, and Bucky had to laugh, or he’d start down what that noise meant in every horror movie that he and Becca had watched. Damn their past selves!

The room past the door Bucky was comfortable in classifying as a master bedroom. Not only was it huge, but the layout would’ve been made with a noble couple in mind. In one corner, there was some scratches and water-wear on the floor, a tub must’ve once sat there. 

There was no furniture in this room. Bucky wondered if it was because the previous owner, their deceased Great Uncle, had sold it, or maybe no one had lived up in this second floor for some time. The thought made him sad, as he went around, stroking the age-weary stone. Buildings deserve occupants, and perhaps that was a strange thought, as the reverse should probably be more important, but nothing made Bucky sadder than seeing a building left to rot. Something beautiful in the way nature took back her land, but awful in seeing something that should be filled with life, dead. 

Well. That would be the romantic in him, married with the engineer. Bucky shook himself, and left the room, sticking his head into the next two along the hall, finding smaller rooms that could’ve been for children, or members of the court, and then the final door led to the ramparts. At the very end was the destroyed tower by the portcullis, and while the drive was clear of any rubble, there was still plenty around the base of the tower. In fact, there was only the outline of a tower left, the inner staircase’s remains sticking out of the stone wall like a ribcage. 

“Bucky!” Bucky looked down into the courtyard, and saw Becca by their car, waving like mad. He waved back, grinning, heading out further along the ramparts so she could see him better. “Inspecting your grounds, young master?” Becca yelled up. 

“And finding them severely lacking, Lady Barnes! Are you servants lazy?” Bucky yelled back, leaning on the stone wall, crossing his arms. It felt sturdy beneath him, and Bucky leant his weight against it comfortably. 

“Well, my good sir, it is just that his legs are so darn small!” Becca called, and Booker came trotting back around from the other side of the car, barking like he knew Becca was talking about him. Becca’s laugh was loud enough to probably carry down the whole mountain. 

Bucky opened his mouth, witty reply ready on his tongue, when he both heard and felt an almighty CRACK from the right of him. He turned, half his weight still leaning on the wall, trying to find the source of the sound, and then the wall holding him up crumbled into dust. 

He was so surprised by the wall practically dissolving, he didn’t realise he was falling until his head hit the stone courtyard, Becca’s scream ringing in his ears. 

--

warm. comfortable. he could stay here, it was nice here, no pain no screams just-

“Hey! Hey! Don’t! Turn around!” 

who was that? man voice not sister voice don’t know-

“My name’s Steve, and please, please, turn away. I know it feels better there, but you aren’t ready! Come back this way! Turn around!”

but the light is warm-

“You said sister! You want to see her again? Because you keep going that way, you won’t see her for a very, very long time!”

no not good, sister-

“Turn back this way. Come this way.”

turning away from light hurts, but voice is right. Steve is right. 

“Hey, good job. Thank you for trusting me,” says Steve. He is tall and golden and blue and he holds out a hand. “What’s your name?”

“Bucky.” That’s right, Bucky. Bucky and Becca and Booker and- 

“Hey, Bucky. Nice to meet you. Take my hand, I’ll take you back to your sister.” Steve’s hand somehow is brighter and warmer than the light. 

Bucky takes it. 

Chapter Text

Everything hurt.

Well, the hurt was mostly contained to the left side of his head, but it rattled down Bucky’s bones like a freight train determined to make him want to throw up. It didn’t help that whatever light was on him at that moment seemed to ignore that his eyes were closed. It bore straight through his eye lids to spear his already thumping brain.

He groaned, and attempted to open his eyes, squinting against a harsh, white light, the sound of his groan dry as hell. His throat, now that he thought of it, felt like cracked earth.

His eyelids fluttered three times, his pupils adjusting to the painful light a little more each time, until he was able to keep them open enough to actually see. He was lying down upright, which in itself wasn’t strange, but his arms lying by his side on top of the covers was. The railings on each side of the bed were also strange.

Wincing, he turned his head to the side, and took in the rest of the long, white room. There were other beds, some curtained off areas, and people milling around in casual clothes, in scrubs, in hospital gowns-

Oh. Oh, right, yeah. That makes sense.

Lifting a hand, Bucky very slowly and gently felt up his face, to his head, where he encountered the bandage. It didn’t go the whole way around his head, like in the movies, but it was certainly a large area of his scalp. It felt mostly like bread wrapped in cling film, and the laugh that image evoked made him wince as it rattled in his head. “Ow,” he said, redundantly.

“Bucky?” Bucky turned a little more to the left, and saw Becca standing next to a man in a white coat, her face pale enough to match it. Bucky blinked, and then Becca was right next to his bed, like she’d run at him, intending to leap, but remembered at the last second that he was in a hospital bed. “Oh, oh my god, Bucky, Bucky are you okay? I mean, obviously you’re not, but you are awake right? You’re-” Becca’s hands hovered over Bucky, and her voice grew hoarse as she didn’t stop to take a breath before the next stream of consciousness came tumbling out of her mouth.

“Hey, Becca,” Bucky rasped, and grabbed her hands, squeezing them as much as his weak muscles could.

Becca immediately burst into tears.

“Becs! Hey, hey, I’m so sorry, hey, don’t cry, I’m okay,” Bucky tried to soothe, but his voice sounded like the Grim Reaper and was probably worse on the ears.

“No, shut up, I’m gonna fucking cry,” Becca said, somehow scolding, petulant, and relieved. She did turn an apologetic look on the doctor standing behind her. “Tut mir leid, Dr Weber,” she said, and the doctor smiled at her.

“Technically, it would be ‘entschuldigung’, Fraulein Barnes,” he said, coming to stand closer to the bed. “But the effort is appreciated. Now, Herr Barnes-” He looked down at Bucky on the bed, and Bucky judged from his calm, almost surprised look that Bucky’s recovery was faster than expected. “How are you feeling?”

“Not great? But the pain is in my head, which is I guess where it’s supposed to be,” Bucky said, his voice getting raspier and raspier with every word. He looked away from the doctor, about to ask Becca for some water, but one of her hands was already gone from his, and she was grabbing a water bottle from his bedside table. She handed it to him, and Bucky praised his little sister’s brain, that she had thought to get a bottle with a spout. He squeezed some water into his mouth, wanting to moan with how good the cold liquid was on his parched throat.

“Indeed. Do you feel any weakness anywhere? Any numbness, tingling?” Dr Weber’s accent tripped a little around the words, and Bucky was appreciative for him speaking English anyway. Despite having a more than working knowledge of German, his knocked-about brain was barely keeping up with the conversation without translating things back and forth.

Bucky answered in the negative, and then the doctor performed a few tests, listened to his heart, and then checked his chart, Becca keeping her hands in Bucky’s whenever it wouldn’t get in the way.

“Herr Barnes, I must say, your injuries do not match the description of the incident Fraulein Barnes gave,” Dr Weber said finally, and Bucky got the absurd urge to apologise.

“How so?” He asked instead.

Dr Weber patted Bucky’s leg, maybe trying to soothe, or settle. “The fall was over two metres, and you landed on your head. You have been in a coma for one week. You are very, very lucky to be alive,” he said. Bucky made a note to joke about his blunt bedside manner to Becca later, and then felt the slightest tremble in Becca’s hand. He rubbed his thumb on the back of her hand. “You have a fracture in your skull, but very little brain bleeding. We thought we would have to operate, but once we had the chance to see the injury, it was more like a skateboard injury, and it required only thirteen stitches. You must have a guardian angel, Herr Barnes.”

“He’s really not kidding, Buck. You-” Becca’s voice shook, and she swallowed. “You weren’t moving, and there was so much blood-” Becca’s eyes welled up with tears again, and Bucky squeezed her hands, feeling terribly guilty. He shouldn’t have leaned on that stone wall, no matter how solid it felt.

Even though it had felt completely solid...and the noise, the way it dissolved under his arms-

“But these are things to be very grateful for.” Dr Weber moved from the end of Bucky’s bed to Becca’s side, patting her shoulder a few times. She smiled up at him gratefully. “That you escaped a major brain injury is a victory! Though I would urge you to be vigilant of any signs of concussion, fatigue or unexplained weakness.”

“We both will be,” Becca said, and got an approving nod from the doctor.

“Teacher’s pet,” Bucky teased, and Becca poked her tongue out at him.

“We will keep you here overnight for observing, Herr Barnes, but should you develop no new symptoms, we will release you tomorrow,” Dr Weber said, stowing Bucky’s chart back on the end of his bed.

“Sure, and thanks. Uh, who do we talk to about the bill?” Bucky asked, already dreading looking at it.

Dr Weber frowned at him. “You are EU citizens, are you not?”

“Uh, technically? I guess?” Bucky replied, even though he knew that he and Becca were, by virtue of their Romanian passports.

“Bucks, I sorted it. Don’t worry,” Becca said, squeezing his hands. Bucky let himself relax. Despite them both being good at numbers, Becca had always been more logical than him. She would’ve already sorted it out.

Dr Weber bid them goodbye then, and swept off. Bucky leaned fully back into his pillows, not really tired enough to sleep, but amazed at how long he was able to keep lucid with the way his brain was thudding.

Becca let go of his hands to pull out her phone. “Promised mum and dad I’d call when you woke up,” she said. Their mum and dad immediately cried upon seeing him awake, their mum being the one to shake it off first and yell at him for not checking structural integrity, his dad being the one to stop her when Bucky winced.

“You are okay though, right? You’re getting released?” His dad asked, once Becca had given them the update from Dr Weber.

“Tomorrow. Gotta stay here under observation,” Bucky said.

“Some kind of miracle that you’ve got a tiny little fracture, Jamie. Your head must be thicker than we thought,” their mum said, and Becca and Bucky laughed, but both of them saw the way she was struggling to believe everything was fine.

“Yeah, told the doctor that. Don’t think it translated across, though. The nurse looked at me funny and said that he was indeed ‘bone-headed’, the skull is a bone,” Becca said, and that was enough to startle genuine laughs out of everyone.

They hung up a little while later, the siblings promising to call in the next couple of days, and Becca kissed Bucky’s brow, promising to come back tomorrow morning, but needing to run back to the castle to check on Booker. Bucky could tell that she was nervous to leave him alone, so he made a big show of getting comfortable and closing his eyes.

He waited a few moments, before opening them back up, but made no move to grab his phone, or the book Becca left, from the bedside table.

He instead dwelled on his mother’s words, and the doctor’s. He’d fallen over two metres, head first, into stone. Becca said he was in a pool of his own blood. He was probably dead when he hit the pavement.

How was he alive?

--

Becca signed him out the next morning, and then made way too big of a show manhandling him into the wheelchair with the nurse. Bucky didn’t protest or fight outwardly, not wanting to anger the nurse, who was just doing her job, but took every chance he could to shoot Becca the greasiest looks he could managed. She always bared her teeth in a way-too-triumphant grin, but Bucky would see how worn she looked underneath.

Bucky had to tell himself not to feel guilty. It wasn’t his fault or choice that he landed in the hospital with a head injury, after all. It wasn’t. It wasn’t!

Becca’s very smug smile when he had to be wheeled across the carpark, not just to the front of the hospital, eased his guilt somewhat. It was eased even further when Becca handed him a cane to use, and when he refused and tried to get up without it, he stumbled enough that Becca had to steady him. She handed him the cane again, and he took it, grumbling.

The nurse waved them off as she took the wheelchair back, and Bucky tucked himself into the passenger seat, wriggling back into the seat carefully. His head still hurt, but he supposed cranial fractures don’t just disappear after a week. He watched Becca tap at her phone, and then when she tucked her phone into its cradle, Bucky winced a little bit at the distance from the castle.

“How...how did you get me down here?” Bucky asked, as they drove through city streets. A few signs had ‘Dresden’ on them, so Bucky guessed that must be where they were. He wasn’t really sure how close any other hospital equipped to deal with head injuries would be.

Becca’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Drove you.”

“You- you didn’t call an ambulance?” Bucky said, aghast. He couldn’t imagine how hard that must’ve been for Becca, hauling her should-be-dead brother into their car, head probably still bleeding. He looked into the backseat just to see if he’d left a stain on the backseat.

“Jesus- Fine, Buck! I’ll throw myself off the ramparts and see how you deal with it!” Becca shot at him, and Bucky realised that she had the complete wrong thing out of his tone. He was an asshole.

“No! No, Becs, I just meant- that wouldn’t have been easy. You’re the strongest, most amazing person I know,” Bucky said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder, and Becca deflated.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Nah. I think me smacking my head on the ground covers you for a while,” Bucky said, and grinned back at her when she smiled.

“Lemme know when that’s due to run out, yeah? I’ll go back to best behaviour,” she drawled.

Bucky laughed, and then went back to looking out the window. He watched as the city melted away, and became the outlying villages, and then the forests and the mountains started creeping in.

“I panicked, but you were breathing. I checked your heartbeat and everything, I thought I was hallucinating.” Bucky looked back at Becca, catching her swipe under her eyes. He caught that hand with his own and squeezed it. Becca squeezed back. “There was a lot of blood. I really thought- God, I really thought I’d just watched you die.”

“Couldn’t leave you behind, huh?” Bucky said, trying to joke, but feeling tears of his own well up.

Becca entwined their fingers to hold his hand tighter, only letting go to change gear.

--

The only person that was happier to see Bucky than Becca, was Booker.

Bucky barely had the door open when he was suddenly being assaulted by a too-wet tongue and a series of high-pitched whines. “Hey! Hey, little guy- yeuch!” Bucky flinched away as Booker tried to stick his tongue into every open orifice. “God, you’re only slightly less gross than my last boyfriend.”

“Books, come on now, let the wounded soldier out,” Becca said, scooping Booker off Bucky, kissing him in apology as he tried to wriggle back to Bucky, letting out the saddest whines.

Bucky made sure his feet were steady on the ground before he tried to lever himself up with his cane, his other hand gripping the side of the car to help him up. He felt a little steadier, and the cane definitely made it easier to concentrate on staying upright, but he would not be telling Becca that any time soon, she would be insufferable.

Once he was upright, comfortable, and ready to make his way to the front door, that was when he noticed her. He had been so distracted by staring at the offended rampart wall, the place where he fell obvious from the hole, that he hadn’t seen the woman standing by the door.

She was white, looked late twenties, early thirties at most, with perfectly curled brown hair, pinned back neatly. Bucky had seen that hairstyle on Becca before, when she had her pin-up phase. He used to watch her painstakingly put together victory rolls, perfect curls, enough times that he could appreciate the effort the woman must’ve put into it. Even her lipstick, a bright, stark red, was perfectly even.

She was also dressed in distinctly old clothing, but there was even modernity to it that it was way out of Bucky’s period of study. If she’d been in a laced in gown, dripping in gold and gems, he could probably guess the era. This was more like just old enough to be vintage, but cool enough to be worn casually.

Then, perhaps the oddest thing of all, she looked so relieved to see him, as if she knew him and been waiting for him to come back from hospital. She had a very nice smile, warm and friendly.

“Hey, Becs?” Becca looked back at him with a ‘hmm?’ noise. “Who’s that?”

Becca turned to look where he was looking, but when she looked back, she was frowning. “Who, Buck?”

Bucky frowned back at her, and then gestured with his cane. “The woman standing by the door, Becca?”

“There’s no one there.” Becca’s tone went from confused to concerned, her frown melting into worry.

Bucky looked back at the woman, standing there against the door, in green and brown, and definitely a solid human being, and felt a stir of his own worry. Becca wouldn’t try and trick him, right? He did just smack his head open, and she had been so worried, she wouldn’t joke about that, right?

“You’re telling me you can’t see the woman? Right there. White, brown hair, red lipstick?” Bucky asked, jabbing again at the woman with his cane, though this time he took another look at her, and found her face to have turned whiter, her brown eyes wide in shock, her red lips parted.

This was getting weirder by the second, and Bucky wasn’t about to pretend that his heart wasn’t speeding up out of fear.

Becca lowered Booker gently onto the ground, and stepped closer to Bucky, gently resting her hands on his shoulders. “Bucky, I promise you, there is no one there. You- does she look familiar?” Becca asked, the furrow in her brow deepening with her worry.

“No?” Bucky looked at the woman again, whose mouth was now opening and closing, like she kept wanting to say something then thinking better of it, over and over. “She- her hairs’ all curled like you did when you were dressing like 1950’s porn?”

Becca spared a moment from worrying to scoff at him, and that settled him somewhat, enough to giggle at his own terrible joke. “One, rude, two, false. Three, the doctor did say that visual hallucinations were somewhat expected? With an injury like yours. Your brains’ been rattled. Give it a bit to rest, maybe she will just disappear?” Becca didn’t sound as convinced as Bucky reckoned she would’ve liked to be, but he took a deep breath in, held it, and then let it out. The woman didn’t disappear, but Bucky could see why his rattled brain might have imagined her.

Stunning hair? Eye catching lips and eyes? Definitely Bucky’s type. He could practically imagine her personality; capable, proud, fierce. Bucky’s brain was just giving him something nice to look at. Definitely. That was it.

“Yeah. Yeah, just need some rest not in a hospital,” Bucky agreed, and Becca seemed to relax.

“Well, lucky for you, you decided not to die, so I had to put together our furniture myself,” she said, pretending to grumble.

Bucky’s latent guilt charged back in force. “Oh, Becs, I’m sorry, I should’ve-” he started, but she slapped a hand over his mouth, growling at him. He let out a surprised laugh at that, and at Booker barking at her noise.

“No! No, none of that. I had to do something that wasn’t hover over your prone form. You were snoring loud enough to cause an avalanche.” She didn’t even let him get in an argument against that before she moved to wrap an arm around him and frogmarch him inside. “We’ve got some things to talk about when you feel up to it, particularly about an exciting offer from the Czech government.”

“That does sound exciting,” Bucky replied, and meant it, but was also mildly distracted by the woman once more, as when they went past, the shock on her face turned to excitement.

“You can see me?” She said, her voice a proper English accent, and Bucky forcefully turned his head away, staring at the closed front doors.

“You’re just seeing things, there’s no one there, you’re just seeing things,” Bucky muttered to himself, and Becca squeezed him a little tighter.

--

Becca walked him through the rooms she’d set up, keeping the room with the ancient TV and ratty couch as the living room, but the old furniture had been pushed to one side, their couch and TV unit set up in their place. Becca’s TV was on the unit, Becca waving off Bucky’s protests, and one of her bookcases was resting against the wall, a jumble of both of the books in piles near it, waiting to be sorted. The kitchen was looking in as much disrepair as ever, but the stove had been cleaned, their fridge was on the opposite side and powered, and their dining table was set up in the centre. While their chairs were around it, Becca had been using it as their makeshift pantry, their dry and canned goods in neat piles.

Lastly, in a small room off the kitchen, was Bucky’s bed and bedside table. Becca had even set up his TV unit and his consoles. “I’ve taken the room upstairs, I thought this would be okay for now, at least until you recovered?”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks Becs. I think this would’ve done me either way,” Bucky said, trying to sound genuine, but was very distracted by the white man in what looked like military dress, except the bowler hat, who was staring back at Bucky suspiciously. He had a very impressive handlebar mustache, though Bucky for the life of him could not figure out why his brain was hallucinating him.

He was also yelling off to the side for someone named ‘Jones’ to ‘come take a look at kid’. Bucky jumped back as a Black man with a jaunty Air Force hat materialised through the wall.

“Buck?” Becca’s arms were around him again, and Bucky closed his eyes and turned his head towards her.

“More...people,” he said.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph, he can see us!” Someone said, but judging from the unfamiliar voice, Bucky guessed it was ‘Jones’. “Dugan, he can see us!”

“I’ll be damned,” said the bowler-hat man’s voice, probably Dugan.

“Did we know anyone named Dugan or Jones?” He asked Becca, and winced when he heard twin yells of surprise.

“He can hear us!”

“Shit, Dernier is gonna be so pissed!”

“I’m getting Carter right now, Lord knows he might try for round two-”

Bucky slammed his hands over his ears, and felt Becca pull him towards her, and take him out of the room. Bucky kept his eyes shut and his ears covered, even as Becca helped him sit on the couch, and became a warm presence in his side. She had her arm wrapped around him, and her hand gently stroked up and down his arm.

Eventually, Bucky took a breath, and let one eye open, and sighed in relief at it being empty of strangely dressed people exclaiming that he could see them. Bucky let his hands fall into his lap, and turned to look at Becca, an apology ready on his lips.

“No, none of that. You had a somewhat traumatic brain injury. Don’t apologise for having symptoms,” she scolded, gently, and kissed his temple. Bucky grumbled quietly, but was grateful for her comfort and her unconditional support.

“I’m the older sibling, I should be taking care of you,” he said, pouting.

“Oh no, how terrible, you have to rest and recover? Truly, the world is against you,” Becca replied wryly, and giggled and Bucky’s annoyed noise. “You want a cup of tea? I was gonna throw together a quick brunch type thing. I haven’t eaten breakfast today.”

“Yes, please. I will also take some of your brunch,” Bucky said, and smiled at Becca as she gave him one last squeeze and got up. She called Booker, and got him to clamber up onto Bucky’s lap, leaving him as a warm weight on Bucky’s lap that smelled faintly. “You need a bath,” Bucky told Booker.

Booker whined, sneezed, and then licked a stripe up Bucky’s face. Bucky took that to mean ‘try me’.

Becca returned a few minutes later with a pretty impressive grazing platter, and a small tray bearing two steaming mugs. Under her arm was a bottle of water, and once she whistled for Booker to jump off Bucky (wincing as Booker seemed to take that literally), and dropped the bottle on Bucky.

“Let me tell you, after days of two minute noodles, I am so fucking glad that we have a fridge and access to vegetables,” Becca said, sliding the platter on the couch cushion next to Bucky, and handed him one of the mugs. Bucky hummed in thanks, and also agreeing with her statement on both fridges and vegetables.

“Pretty sure I haven’t eaten solid food for a week, so I can empathise with that statement very much.” He sipped his tea, hissed a little at the burn, and immediately tried to fix it by shoving a carrot stick in his mouth.

“Be careful it’s hot,” Becca drawled, and Bucky shot her a withering look.

They picked at the platter for a moment in silence, before Becca cleared her throat. “So, I’ve got some news, regarding the dilapidated nature of this place.”

“Dilapidated? How dare she!” Bucky turned around at the sound of the voice, and caught the slightest blur of movement. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and didn’t open his eyes until he turned back around.

“More people?” Becca asked, her voice wary but her frown very worried.

“Yeah. Voice I haven’t heard yet. English accent,” Bucky mumbled, and smiled gratefully at Becca when she squeezed his knee. “Tell me the news?”

Becca seemed to not want to change the subject, but went with it anyway. “We got a couple of offers from some universities in the Czech Republic. Because the castle, while being in the German border, is of great interest to some historians. So, when they reached out, asking if we were going to be restoring it, and I explained our own nerdery in the history department, they extended out a couple of offers about funding it!” Becca’s eyes were lit up with excitement, and Bucky could feel his arms get goosebumps.

“Wait, so, we would get funding to restore this place-” he started, and cut himself off when he realised why it mattered that Becca had brought up their own degrees and areas of study. “Wait, they want us to restore it, with their funding, how it would’ve been built?”

“Yes! How fucking cool is that?” Becca grinned, and Bucky felt a grin of his own in response.

“Holy shit. Holy shit? This is- okay, I know that we have like so much fucking work and this place is so goddamn isolated, but fucking hell am I so happy that we are here!” Bucky said, running a hand through his hair, wincing a little as his hand trailed over the thirteen stitches, but it didn’t dim his smile any. Nor did it stop the absolute burst of joy like sparklers in his blood. After a year, he could put his degree to use! He could do the exact thing he’d studied, and put it into use in the most incredible way. “I- I could write a book about this! I could apply for a Masters with this-” Bucky could hear how dazed his voice was.

“You went way more academic than I did,” Becca said, laughing. “I’m planning on making a YouTube account.”

“Documentation of any kind is important,” Bucky said, nodding sagely. With a giant, foolish smile.

Becca laughed again, poking his side. “We are such fucking nerds.”

“Nerds who are going to make absolute bank,” Bucky corrected, and Becca held up her mug of tea to toast him, Bucky responding in kind, before the both of them burst into another round of excited, childish giggling.

--

Bucky tried to help out with cleaning up the kitchen, but standing too long left his head swimming a little, so Becca set him up at the kitchen counter with the emails the two universities had sent them. Like the well-trained student he was, he had a notebook next to him, with a page for each offer dedicated to listing the unique parts of each one. After thoroughly going through each, he started with a vague plan to accept both offers, as any good study needed multiple tests, right?

Once Becca had finished with their dishes, and was plugging in their crockpot to start on dinner, Bucky had been so absorbed with writing a mock up acceptence letter, with the offer to work with both universities, that he had forgotten about the people he had been seeing and hearing everywhere.

At least until he looked up, and saw ‘Jones’, leaning against the counter next to Becca, looking at her with something like admiration in his eyes. He moved the slightest bit closer, and Bucky launched himself up out of his chair.

“Hey! Get away from her!” He snarled, and the way Jones stumbled over himself, putting as much distance between him and Becca would’ve been comical if Bucky wasn’t seeing red.

“Sorry! Sorry, she- Sorry, man, I didn’t mean nothing by it,” Jones said, looking distinctly frazzled. “She doesn’t even know I’m here? If that helps?”

“How the fuck would that help? She doesn’t know you’re there, so you can just do whatever you want?” Bucky seethed.

“Nice one, Jones, that’s really soothing,” said another American voice, not the bowler hat guy, and a short, Japanese man stepped into Bucky’s line of sight, and where everyone else’s clothing was pressed and neat, this man’s was rumpled and ill-fitting. Even his hair and stubble were scraggly.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I swear,” Jones said, and the new face slapped a hand against his forehead, chuckling mockingly.

“Bucky! Bucky, there’s no one there!” Becca was suddenly there, hands cupping his face and forcing him to look at her. “Bucky, there’s no one there, you are yelling at nothing. I promise you, you’re safe.” She sounded scared, and Bucky wanted to cry.

“I have never seen these people before, Becs, I don’t-” His voice was so shaky that he could barely understand what he was saying. Becca pulled his face into the crook of her neck, and gently scratched at the back of his neck. Bucky closed his eyes tight and wrapped his arms around her waist, hanging onto her like she was the last bastion of sanity.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. They’ll go away, we’ve just gotta let you heal. You just need to rest.” Bucky nodded into her shoulder. “Do you wanna go lie down? Maybe that’ll help, if you just got some sleep. You’ve done so much work today already.”

“Spent a week sleeping,” he grumbled into Becca’s shoulder, and she laughed a little, even that sounding forced.

“Unconscious, more like. Come on. I’ll tuck you in.” Bucky nodded, and let Becca pull away, though he kept his eyes squeezed tight, and let her lead him out into the hall, and down into his bedroom. He risked opening his eyes in there, and breathed a sigh of relief that it was empty of spectres. Becca’s face was pulled into a frown, but she didn’t say anything, just helped him onto his bed, stowing his cane away somewhere within reach.

Bucky wriggled across his bed until his back was against the wall, and smiled at Becca when she folded his quilt over him. “I’m a burrito,” he said, and that got a genuine laugh from his sister.

“Yes, very spicy too. Beefy,” she said, sounding sarcastic and far more like herself.

“Mmmhmm,” Bucky mumbled, and snuggled up under his covers. Even if he didn’t sleep, there was something nice about just lying down with his eyes closed.

“I’ll come get you in a couple hours, okay?” Bucky hummed in agreement, and heard Becca leave, but not shut the door, probably so she could hear him if he started shouting again. He stuck his hand under his pillow, and let his mind float very far away from the strangers in old clothes.

He was roused later, not enough for the sun to have moved much, but enough that there was a patch of sunlight big enough for Booker probably to have napped in, but now was furiously growling and barking at a man with a fantastic curly moustache, a red beret perched on his head.

The man had an English accent, and was trying to soothe Booker, saying things like “Come on, chap, I don’t mean any harm!” and “Settle down now, there’s a good lad!”

Booker simply growled in reply, even snapping at the man’s fingers when he reached out.

Bucky, a little groggy, watched with concern, his first thought being he should call Booker back.

Then he woke up, and his heart seized awfully with dread.

Booker could see them. Booker could see the people. That’s who Booker had been barking at the first night they were here. Booker had been seeing these people since the first day. Booker had been trying to protect his people from the strangers in his new house.

“What the fuck.” Bucky didn’t realise he had spoken until the man in the beret looked up at him, frowning. “The fuck. That fuck is this.”

“Can you call off the dog? He can’t actually touch me, so all he is doing is tiring himself out,” the man said, with a disapproving frown at Bucky.

The man was frowning at Bucky, like Bucky was an errant child. Like Bucky was somehow in the wrong here.

“What the fuck!?” Bucky shouted, and threw his covers off. “What the fuck is going on? Who are you people?” He wobbled as he tried to stand, and fell against the wall, his whole body shaking. “What the hell happened to me?”

“Falsworth! I told you to leave him alone!” The woman melted through the wall, her red lips curled in a furious snarl. The man, Falsworth, merely crossed his arms and stuck his nose up at her.

“He should leave us alone! This is our home, not his.”

“This isn’t our home, this is our gravesite, you clod. Get out! Leave the poor man alone!” The woman pointed to the door, and then turned a deeply apologetic look at Bucky. Falsworth sniffed indignantly, and then strode off, muttering darkly under his breath. Booker snapped at him as he went past, and then turned a big doggy grin at the woman, his tail wagging so fast it was like a blur. “Yes, good boy, you were protecting your family, weren’t you? What a good little darling you are!” The woman crooned to Booker, who managed to wag his tail even harder.

“What-” Bucky croaked. Everything was- it was-

“Oh! Oh no! Bucky?” The woman’s voice was barely there has blackness swallowed up Bucky’s vision, and he fell, the ground rushing up to meet him once more.

Chapter Text

Bucky woke up back on his bed, with Becca’s anxious face hovering over him. He felt shaky and out of sorts, his head thumping. Becca seemed to relax upon seeing him awake and lucid, and then thumped his shoulder. 

“Ow! What the heck, Becca!” Bucky whined, rubbing his shoulder like she’d actually hurt him. 

“Stop falling on your head! Or I’m going to make you wear a helmet!” She scolded, and there was a bright note of worry in her eyes. Bucky grimaced, trying to give her his best apologetic look. 

“Sorry?” He attempted, and winced when she covered her face with her hands. He let her have a moment to compose herself, and then did his best puppy eyes as she rubbed her face, and then let her hands fall so she could look at him. 

“Are you okay? You were screaming, and then by the time I ran from the kitchen to here, you were on the ground.” Becca reached out to gently prod at his bandage, and though her face didn’t change from worry/anxiety, from that Bucky could gather that he hadn’t split his stitches. Thank goodness. “I heard Booker barking at something in here, but my hands were full.”

Bucky, now that he was awake and lucid, remembered seeing Falsworth and the woman, and seeing Booker react to them. Hence the fainting, he guessed. 

“Maybe we should take you back to the hospital? Since we got back this morning, things have deteriorated pretty quick, Buck. I know I said you just need rest, but-” Becca didn’t stop her gentle inspection of his head while she spoke, but Bucky batted her hand away and cut her off. 

“No, Becca. Booker can see them too,” he said, and Becca’s look turned from worried, to deeply concerned, though with a dash of confusion. 

“Booker can see who, Buck?” Her voice was slow and careful, like Bucky was delusional. To be fair, he might be, but he could not shake the memory of how Booker had tried to defend him from Falsworth. 

“The people. The ghosts, I guess they are,” Bucky said, and started to sit himself up. Becca, even with her face turning more and more concerned, was quick to brace him with her arm around his back, and helped him up. “They’re all dressed like its the Sound of Music. One of them, the woman? Who was by the front door? Called this place their ‘gravesite’. They’re ghosts, Becca.” 

Bucky figured his eyes must be wild to match his near-ranting tone, what with the way Becca looked at him like he’d finally snapped. “Buck...I think we should call the doctor. Clearly there’s something-” She started, but Bucky shook his head. 

“Ow.” He cupped his head, wincing as his frantic head-shake stretched his stitches. “No, Becca, Booker can see them too. I can- wait- I can-” Bucky struggled off the end of his bed, stumbling into the wall as he stood, but kept doggedly moving forward, out of his room. Becca was right behind him, urging him to stop, to go back and lie down, but he kept moving down the hall, to the front door. 

“Bucky! Where are you going?” Becca said, trying to gently tug at his arm, but Bucky just grabbed her hand and pulled her outside, practically falling against the door as he opened it. 

“Hey! Uh...Ghosts? Are you there?” He yelled out into the courtyard, the noise startling Booker from where he’d been nosing around the car, sending him barrelling towards Bucky and Becca. 

“Buck! Seriously, you’re scaring me!” Becca said, and Bucky felt guilty for doing that, but he knew that she had to see this for herself, as much as she could. 

“I don’t know all of your names, I’m sorry, but can you all come out here?” Bucky called again. 

Then a few of them appeared, the bowler-hat man Dugan and Jones, with the scruffy, bearded man following behind. “You got some lungs on you, son,” Dugan said, his voice jovial. Jones looked nervous, and was standing half behind Dugan. The last man just shot Bucky a dirty look. 

“...don’t want to- Ow! Carter, that is entirely-” Falsworth’s voice said from behind Bucky, and then he was stumbling out into view, being pulled along by his ear by the woman. 

“It is entirely necessary, and if I knew where he was, Dernier would be getting the exact same treatment,” she was saying, marching him smartly to the others, only releasing him once he was next to Dugan. She turned then, and gave Bucky a warm, comforting smile. “Hello, Bucky. I’m so sorry on all of our behalf for frightening you and your sister.” 

Booker, who had been whimpering as each person appeared, let out a happy bark and trotted straight up to the woman, tongue out and tail wagging furiously. 

The woman knelt down as he approached, and cooed at him. “Yes, and of course you too, doing such a good job, my darling.” 

“Right,” Bucky said, and noticed how quick they all were to stand up straight, even if two of them were glaring daggers at Bucky. “So my sister stops thinking I’ve snapped, can I get all of your names? I want to give her something to look up.” 

“Bucky, there’s no one there,” Becca said, but she sounded deeply unsure, as her eyes watched as her dog stared adoringly up at the woman. 

“Of course! My name is Agent Margaret Carter,” the woman said, and then smiled. “You can call me Peggy.” 

“Nice to meet you, Peggy,” Bucky said, and could hear the stare that Becca was giving him. 

“Timothy Dugan.” Dugan tipped his hat to Bucky, and he couldn’t help his laugh. 

“Dum Dum Dugan, actually,” Jones said, and laughed at the look ‘Dum Dum’ shot him. “Gabe Jones.” 

“Morita,” said the Japanese man, scratching at his patchy beard. 

“Jim Morita,” Peggy corrected, and he rolled his eyes. 

“James Montgomery Falsworth,” said Falsworth, like every word was a hot poker in his throat. 

“Thank you. I’m James Barnes, and this is Rebecca Barnes, my sister. The dog’s name is Booker,” Bucky said, mostly by way of politeness, not that the two very rude men deserved it. 

“Then why Bucky?” He heard Falsworth mutter darkly, but ignored him, in favour of looking to Becca.

“I’ve got some names for you,” Bucky reported, and Becca looked like she was deciding whether to bundle him back into the car or smack him over the head herself. In the end, she seemed to give in, sighed, and waved at him to tell her. “Uhhh, so, there’s Falsworth and Morita, Jim, who don’t seem to like me very much.” 

“Don’t like either of you, actually! Or the rat!” Morita called out, shooting a look down at Booker, who snarled at him. Falsworth jumped, but Morita just glared back down at Booker. 

“Okay, they don’t like either of us or Booker, but if you call him a rat again I’ll hire an exorcist!” Bucky shot at the two men. It was Morita’s turn to look offended. 

“Falsworth and Jim Morita?” Becca repeated, and there was a furrow in her brow, despite the blank look on the rest of her face. Bucky frowned at her, but she just motioned for him to continue, so he just looked back to the ghosts, Dugan giving him a cheery thumbs up. 

“The ones that do like us are Tim Dugan, Gabe Jones, and Agent Peggy-” Bucky started.

“-Carter?” Becca finished, and Bucky frowned at her harder, staring in burgeoning worry at the paleness of her skin. 

“Uh, yeah. How did you know that? I thought-” Bucky began again, but Becca’s half laugh of shock stopped his words. Becca’s hand was running through her hair, making the patchy quality of her at-home bleach job look even worse. Her grey eyes, same as Bucky’s, were wide and disbelieving. 

“And those names aren’t familiar to you at all? Not at all? Not ringing any bells?” Becca asked, and her eyes had a wild, disbelieving look to them. Bucky shrugged, and looked over to the group of ghosts, the only one not looking at least a little off-put being Peggy. She merely smiled serenely, and cooed back down to Booker. 

“Not...really?” Bucky said, and Becca knocked her head against his shoulder. 

“Are you sure? Because if this is some kind of fun practical joke I will kill you.” Her voice was somewhat muffled against his shirt, and Bucky’s confusion only grew. 

“Yeah, Bec, I’m sure,” Bucky said, maybe a little annoyed, and winced when Becca butted his shoulder with her head, before standing upright again rubbing her hands over her face. 

“So, you have no idea that you listed off the Howling Commandos? Like they weren’t America’s most famous World War Two black ops unit?” Becca said, and Bucky gasped in understanding. 

“Oh my god, weren’t you writing a book on them? Before you changed your major to-” Bucky said, but cut himself off when Becca stared him down, somehow angry, exasperated and disappointed all at once. 

“Yes, because it was one of the greatest mysteries, how they disappeared,” Becca said, and her hand reached out to grip Bucky’s shoulder two shades too painfully. “And you’re telling me they are all right there? Right there?”

“All except one?” Bucky said, looking over to Peggy, who held up two fingers with an apologetic smile. “Two. All except two.” 

Becca stared at him again, the incredulousness in her eyes turning them huge and round. Bucky was starting to feel a headache come on just from watching the way face was contorting. 

“What’s not clicking!? What is not clicking!?” Becca hissed, her nails digging into Bucky’s shoulder. 

“Ow! Becca, come on!” Bucky said, finally batting away her hands, but Becca just threw them up in the air. 

“If you weren’t clearly hallucinating and in pain right now, I would deck you. I would punch your stupid, stupid face!” She shouted to the sky. Bucky felt the urge to apologise to the ghosts for her, and when he looked over and saw them stare at her with looks on the spectrum of worry to disgust. “Bucky. You fall on your head, sustain a terrible injury that rattles your brain, and now you’re seeing the subjects of the book I was writing, that I was near obsessed with for a year, and you think they’re real? They probably look like the last photo you saw of them!” 

Bucky pointed at where Booker was sitting, though he was now looking sadly at Becca, whining a little, and Becca lost a little of her displaced anger. She rubbed at her eye, and shrugged. 

“Yeah, okay, Booker’s acting weird. But it’s a new place, there’s probably a bunch of smells. Your mind is playing tricks on you, Buck. You just need some rest. And I’ve gotta- Fuck. I gotta just go- sort...dinner...” Becca mumbled the last words as she turned to go inside, Booker racing in after her, looking as worried as a sausage dog could. 

Bucky turned back to the group of ghosts, the Howling Commandos, and tried to remember the last photo he had seen of them while Becca had been furiously writing her book, thinking that she could solve the disappearance on her own, while Bucky had made jokes about a Netflix adaptation. Come to think of it, wasn’t there one already? 

“I really don’t know how to convince you, but you aren’t dreaming us up,” Dugan said, tucking his thumbs into his suspenders, looking at where Becca had disappeared back inside, disapprovingly. 

“Yeah, I- well, no offence, but you guys weren’t old enough for me to really care. My field was 16th century Europe, not 20th,” Bucky said, trying for an apology-not-apology. 

“It’s a hard thing to wrap a mind around,” Jones agreed. 

“And being a woman of science, it would be hard for her to trust in something she cannot perceive herself,” Peggy added, nodding seriously. 

“I’m also really not creative enough to dream up personalities for all of you,” Bucky added, and while Morita laughed, Dugan and Jones looked queasy, and Peggy looked murderous. 

“I also doubt you would’ve created someone who wished you to leave so fiercely that he tried to kill you,” she said. 

Bucky stared, her words rattled around in his bruised brain. “Wait, one of you tried to kill me?” 

“Not that it worked,” Falsworth muttered. 

“I’m sorry, one of you tried to kill me!?” Bucky yelled, his hands shaking as he looked at the entirely unapologetic faces of Falsworth and Morita. Morita went as far as to shrug at him. Bucky supposed he’d felt impotent anger before, but this was a whole different iteration. 

Peggy seemed to feel something akin to Bucky, and turned around to face them. Bucky couldn’t see the look she was giving them, but the way Morita and Falsworth seemed to shrink left Bucky feeling impressed nonetheless. Winifred Barnes would be very approving of Peggy Carter. 

“I think the both of you should stay out of sight for a while, don’t you?” Peggy said, and her tone was icy and jagged. Bucky had half a thought to applaud, when Morita and Falsworth turned tail and disappeared into the nearest wall. Peggy turned back around, and her expression was kind and apologetic. “Perhaps we should find somewhere to sit? I don’t wish to hurt your healing head any further.” 

“Oh. Thank you, that’s kind. Uh, maybe away from the main house?” Bucky said, looking back to the front door, not wanting to brush past Becca. He hadn’t meant to upset her, and wanted to give her some space to cool off before he attempted round two of convincing her. 

Peggy smiled, seemingly having the same idea, and led him to the other side of the courtyard, Bucky holding himself back from flinching when she simply melded through the car. 

--

Peggy led him slowly and carefully though a dusty and worn room, another turret, though this one was a solid square, rather than some of the other circular ones, leading him up a set of much more solid stone steps, until they were alone at the top, a chilly breeze cutting through Bucky’s flimsy coat. Surprisingly, it was welcome, despite his goosebumps. He felt more lucid than he had the entire, confusing day. 

It was high enough he could see where the sun was beginning to sink behind the mountain, heralding the end of the day. 

“It’s pretty up here,” he said, and heard a soft noise of agreement from Peggy. 

“This has become somewhat of my escape. None of the boys come up here, not unless I invite them,” she said, and Bucky turned around, to really look at her. She accepted the scrutiny, even lifting her chin proudly. Her clothing, now that Bucky had slightly more context, did look ‘Sound of Music’-esque as he had said to Becca earlier, but ‘Pearl Harbour’ would’ve been a closer comparison geographically. She looked ready for battle, but also like she’d just stepped off a jazz singer’s stage. 

“Then thank you for the invite,” Bucky replied, and got a truly breath-taking grin in response. 

“Oh, nonsense. This is your home, after all. We’re just the spectres in the walls,” Peggy said, and gestured to a fallen bit of stone that resembled a bench. Bucky gratefully sat down, more aware of his spinning head up here, than down in the courtyard. Peggy sat by him, and Bucky was somewhat surprised that she didn’t cross her legs daintily, like he’d seen in the Princess Diaries, but instead sat like him, knees apart. She even leaned her elbows on her knees, resting her chin in her hands. 

Bucky remembered that she was a woman who fought in World War Two, and banished any thoughts of Dame Julie Andrews from his mind. “Not to ruin a calm and quiet moment, but if I could ask about the attempted murder?” Bucky asked, wincing at his own tone. 

Peggy took it in stride, however, and simply looked ashamed. “There was something of a schism in our group, when you three arrived. Dugan and Jones insisted that you’d get sick of looking after the place and leave, Falsworth, Morita and Dernier wanted you dealt with...permanently. I said it was your home, not ours, and you could decide what to do with it what you will. Usually, such disagreements are solved by our leader, Captain Rogers, but he...has not been feeling well,” Peggy said, and at the mention of ‘Captain Rogers’ she seemed terribly sad. Bucky wracked his brain for his bare minimum knowledge of the Howling Commandos, but Captain Rogers wasn’t ringing any bells, so he just sat and waited for the rest of Peggy’s explanation. 

She sighed, and sat up, her hands forming fists on her knees. “It’s not that they don’t respect me, I know they do. But this isn’t the war, we aren’t soldiers any more. So the chain of command rather...doesn’t exist. So when I said there would be no interfering with you, or your sister, they didn’t listen.” 

“So...one of them...pushed me over the wall?” Bucky asked, feeling less angry than he had down below, instead feeling a weird, morbid, curiousity about how the hell he’d gone over the wall without realising. 

Peggy shook her head, pursing her red lips in thought. “When we died, and after we came to terms with our new existence, we realised some of us had powers. I can change how people perceive themselves and others, hence why I don’t look the way I actually did when I died.” 

“Wait, you don’t look like that?” Bucky said, suddenly, and regretted it as soon as he said it. Peggy seemed to take it in stride, and shook her head with a soft smile. 

“We were crushed to death. Not a pretty corpse in sight,” she said, and Bucky turned his eyes down into the courtyard, and the shattered turret and wall. There, in that pile of rubble, were their bones? 

“Peggy, I- I’m sorry-” Bucky started, but Peggy shook her head again. 

“Don’t be. When you sign up for a war, there’s no guarantee of coming home. I wish I was a little closer, or that I could’ve been sent home, but I’m with men I consider family. Small graces,” she said, smiling at Bucky. It did little to alleviate his guilt, even though he wasn’t the one who toppled the building. He couldn’t even imagine how terrifying their final moments must have been, how they felt when they rose up and were no longer alive. It made Bucky feel sick and anxious, and he dug his fingers into his thigh to quell them. 

“I would say show me what you really look like, but maybe after I’m healed?” Bucky offered, weakly, and Peggy laughed. 

“That’s kind, but I wouldn’t inflict that on anyone, hence why I keep everyone looking how they want to be seen. We’re already dead, I doubt a reminder of how would improve anything,” she said, kindly, and Bucky felt worse for asking. “In any case, that is just my power. The power that sent you falling was Dernier’s. He was our explosives expert, and he truly was an incredible talent with it. When he woke, he could resonate with the stone, and cause something like an explosion. It’s...a manipulation of the stone. And when he saw you standing against the wall, I suppose he decided then that then was as good a time as any to send you packing.” 

Bucky remembered the wall crumbling, beneath his arms, dissolving. He had been so shocked by that he hadn’t realised he’d hit the stone below. 

“I could feel that it was firm, stable. It’s why I felt okay to lean on it. I’ve done a lot of study in historical buildings,” Bucky said, and was aware of how weak his voice sounded. He really had known, hadn’t he? This wasn’t his first castle. 

Peggy nodded, and made a weird movement like she was patting his knee, her hand occasionally dipping just through. She shivered every time it happened. “You were right. Dernier could just put his hand on it, and send it blowing apart. So he did.” 

“How did I survive? It’s at least a three metre fall, you don’t survive those-” Bucky started, but stopped when he saw the look of sympathy in Peggy’s eyes. 

“You didn’t.” Bucky gaped at her, and his hand went to touch the stitches on his head. No, no, he was alive, he just didn’t survive impact. That’s all. “You died as soon as your head hit the ground, we all felt it.” 

Bucky ran a finger down the raised bump of his stitches, and the puckered skin underneath. His skull must be a little cracked underneath, not enough for worry, enough for rest. Not exploded apart, caved in, more like he banged his head a little too hard. 

“Captain Rogers is the one who pulled you back.” Bucky looked back to Peggy, his hand hovering over his head. She seemed like she was analysing him, probably deciding if it was too much for his rattled brain. “He’s got a strange power, and not one we were able to figure out for some time. He can pull people back from the brink.” 

Bucky got a flash then, of a faint memory. A man, golden and blue and glowing, calling out to him, calling him back. Telling him to turn around. “Steve...” Bucky said, his voice a little strangled. 

Peggy nodded. “Steve had been trying to figure out how to use his power to bring us back to life, but you cannot raise something already dead. The in-between space is far easier to turn away from. Unfortunately, it takes a lot from him, and since he saved you, we haven’t been able to see him.” 

“He- He isn’t gone, is he?” Bucky asked, suddenly seized with the terrible fear that this unknown ghost had sacrificed his life- well, afterlife, and- 

“No, no, we can still feel him here somewhere. It’s not the first time he drained his spirit this way, and sometimes we don’t see him for much longer. But he always comes back, and I know that he will want to see you with his own eyes,” Peggy said, assuring him. 

It worked, and Bucky did feel less like he’d somehow murdered him, but the guilt lingered. All of them, even Dernier, had suffered enough. They deserved a peaceful afterlife. 

“I’d like to meet him too. Thank him, in person. It...I would’ve stayed behind. To watch out for Becca,” Bucky said, feeling his throat squeeze tight. He wiped tears from his eyes, not wanting to be afraid of death in front of the actual dead person. 

Peggy just slid closer, smiling softly and kindly. “I think he knew that, and he wouldn’t want anyone stuck like us. He helped your Great Uncle move on too. The crotchety old man was terrified someone would make his home a tourist attraction.” She laughed, and it sounded rich and dark, like chocolate cake. 

“Oh god, he would hate that we’re bringing on two universities worth of researchers and reconstruction crews. Becca’s gonna record the whole thing too,” he mock-groaned, and Peggy’s laugh brightened to chimes. 

They sat in silence for a few moments longer, watching as the sun sank lower and lower, the sky splashed orange and pink, purple chasing them down. 

“I should probably get you back downstairs before it’s dark. I don’t think you have the benefit of simply phasing through walls,” Peggy said, and Bucky agreed, letting her take the lead back down. 

--

Dinner was a very subdued affair that night, with Becca seemingly torn between being mad at him for a prank, and terribly concerned that some part of her research was planted so deep in Bucky’s mind that he could imagine with perfect clarity all the Howling Commandos down to their personalities. 

Bucky wasn’t really sure what would be worse, lying to her and saying that he had read her manuscript over and over, or keeping to the truth and trying to convince her that he could see ghosts. Either way, he doubted Becca would be happy with him, and stop staring at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. 

He offered to do the dishes, and praised her actually very filling chilli she’d thrown together in the crockpot, and while Becca did reply with a murmured thanks for the praise, she hovered around him still, pretending to put things away, or wipe down the already tidied bench. Bucky at one point turned his head around and tried to peer into the cupboard in the corner, not remembering if that was the one Becca said was safe for their dishes, but when he turned back, he caught Becca turning away so fast, it was clear she’d also been staring into the corner, like she was trying to see the ghosts that weren’t in the room currently. 

Usually, as they had in London, they’d spend a bit of time together in the evenings, usually trying to beat each other at whatever board game or video game held their interest then, but this time Bucky was quick to give her a hug goodnight, kissing the top of her head, and escaped into his room.

He dithered about for a while, unpacking the last of his boxes, and then decided on setting up his console and losing himself to a game. Once it was all set up, though, he sat on his bed and stared at the screen, his thumb hovering over the ‘X’ to select his profile. It felt...strange, to have everything that happened in the last week, and then he just goes back to what he would do before? 

Bucky shook his head, gently, so that his brain didn’t rattle too much, and then selected his profile, but thumbed away from Dragon Age, instead opening up Control. He’d heard good things about it, and honestly, with everything going on, a paranormal game might just be what the proverbial doctor ordered. 

It was a little strange that Jones floated into his room, and asked if it was okay for him to stay and watch, but he ended up being helpful during the first boss fight, picking up on the different noises the creature made before each attack. Strange, but good. 

Chapter Text

The next morning, things between Becca and Bucky were just as strained, but Bucky made sure not to answer the ghosts or draw too much attention when they entered the room, but still caught the tired, worried looks she sent him when he flicked his eyes to where one of them would step into the room, through the wall or nearest doorway, for those more polite. Jones seemed to hover closest to her, admiration clear in his eyes that Bucky felt somewhat queasy about, what with Becca not being able to tell or see, but Bucky was at least assured by the fact that Jones was a good man, and gentle at his core.

Didn’t help when he mooned after Becca when she had no idea, but at least Becca wouldn’t come to any harm.

They spent a few days investigating and planning out the different parts of the rebuild, and Bucky managed to get hold of some historical records from the library closest to the estate. He didn’t drive down to get them right away, leaving that up to Becca for the next day when she went to get groceries. He tried to get behind the wheel but found his head was still pounding enough to be distracting.

One afternoon, while Becca sat on the floor, going through the emails one university had sent back, Bucky looked up to find someone he hadn’t met yet. He was white, with dark brown hair, and a very well groomed moustache. His blue shirt was rumbled, the topmost buttons undone, and he had a newsboy hat perched on his head.

Bucky, considering he’d gotten used to all the other familiar faces in the house, swallowed nervously as he gathered who this must be. “Dernier, I suppose?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Becca stiffen, but he kept his eyes on Dernier.

“Oui,” the man said, darkly. He gave Bucky quite possibly the dirtiest look Bucky had ever been on the receiving end of. “I am not apologising.” He had a thick French accent, which made Bucky want to giggle at his words. Probably not the best idea to have while staring your would-be murderer down.

“You did try and kill me. That wasn’t very nice,” Bucky said, feeling a little like he was scolding a child, and had to suppress another insane laugh when Dernier’s face screwed up into the ugliest frown.

“Didn’t try. Did,” he muttered, and then both he and Bucky jumped as Becca slammed her laptop shut.

“I’m going upstairs, yell if you need anything,” she said, flatly, and Bucky felt a little sick to his stomach about upsetting her, but that warred with a growing anger that she didn’t believe him. Bucky nodded when she looked at him, and while she seemed regretful for the snap, it didn’t stop her from gathering her laptop into her arms and marching off upstairs, stepping right through Dernier-

Who shuddered, and turned distinctly pale, like he was going to throw up.

“Woah! Woah, you okay?” Bucky said, standing like he wanted to help him, brush his hair back. He was a ghost, he wasn’t actually going to be sick. And if he was, what the hell could Bucky do?

“I’m fine?” Becca’s voice said from the doorway, and Bucky looked past Dernier, who was now patting himself down, to her. Her brow was furrowed, but her severe look had softened somewhat.

“Wasn’t talking to you,” Bucky said, as gently as he could, but knew it would still sound like a dismissal.

Becca narrowed her eyes and sighed, and Bucky thought he heard her mutter something under her breath as she walked away upstairs.

Bucky breathed in, held it, then let it go. Becca thought he was willingly going mad, and she wasn’t sure how to deal with it. They could have a proper discussion later, right now, though-

“What just happened?” He asked Dernier.

“Feels bad. When people walk through us,” he said, and grimaced while he rubbed his stomach. “Wrong.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that,” Bucky said, and thought about all the times he might’ve done that before he could see them.

“How could you?” Dernier said, glaring at him.

Bucky supposed he had a point there. “I’ll try and make sure that she doesn’t do it anymore.”

“Why? It would be a good revenge,” Dernier said, his glare now suspicious.

“I’m not gonna get revenge on you, you’re already dead,” Bucky said, and Dernier shrugged, conceding Bucky’s point. “You aren’t gonna have the element of surprise if you try that again. Plus, you wouldn’t get rid of me that way.”

“That’s what we told him,” Peggy said, stepping through the wall. “You’d just hang around, same as us.”

Dernier grumbled, but didn’t argue. Bucky considered that this was probably one of the stranger conversations he’d ever had, if not the strangest.

“Anyway, if Dernier is quite done pretending to be contrite,” Peggy started, and then raised an eyebrow at the man’s snort. “Okay, if Dernier is done not even pretending that he is regretful, I’ve come to ask if you’d like to meet the Captain, Bucky.”

Bucky’s back straightened, and he looked at Peggy, knowing he had big hopeful eyes. “He’s okay? For me to do that?”

Peggy nodded, her red lips in a warm smile. “He’s not up to his usual shining self, but there’s enough of him up to visiting, if you would like.”

“I would, I really would like. He saved my life,” Bucky said, and winced when his eager nods jolted his head just one side of not good.

Peggy grinned a little wider, and then slapped Dernier’s shoulder. “Come then, my dear Jacques. We will need your assistance.”

Dernier looked like he would rather have someone walk through him again, but fell in beside Peggy, crossing his arms and grumbling under his breath. Bucky somewhat regretted not learning French, he would’ve to know what Dernier was saying in such a dark tone.

“Follow me,” Peggy said, and Bucky grabbed his cane and walked a little behind her, not leaning on it as much as he had earlier in the week, but still wanting the security of it. She led him to the destroyed tower, and then stood aside as Dernier walked up. “Steve is in here, but there’s no way to access it for someone who isn’t able to pass through walls,” she explained, as Dernier reached a hand out and gently touched the wall. Bucky tilted his head at the almost reverent way he treated the stone, and understood a little bit why he was so insulted by Bucky and Becca moving here.

If only someone looked at Bucky like Dernier looked at those stones, right?

There was a soft glow where Dernier had touched, and then the stones simply rearranged themselves, forming a small doorway, barely tall enough for Bucky, but he wouldn’t push his luck, considering Dernier could just drop the building on him.

“Thank you, Dernier,” Bucky said, and the man squinted at him, before muttering something else in French.

“He says you’re welcome,” Peggy said, and judging from the look Dernier gave her, he absolutely had not. Bucky withheld his laugh, and simply nodded at the man. “Come now,” Peggy said, leading the way into the destroyed tower, but going slowly enough that Bucky was able to keep up with her through the tiny passage Dernier had created. Bucky felt a little bit of panic in his chest, and told himself that it was perfectly normal to feel anxious about small spaces, but then also felt a stab of regret that he hadn’t told Becca before venturing in here. If something were to happen, his body would be stuck in this tower, along with no doubt all the rest of them. God, please, please, please let him get in and out without dying.

Eventually the passage opened up to a ruined, but open room, and Bucky realised that he must be on the side of the portcullis that was ruined. There was a few gaps, and without further inspection, Bucky wasn’t sure if they were just from the old stone wearing away, or if they were murder holes.

In front of one such hole, was a strange, rippling light, in shades of gold and blue. “Steve, darling?” Peggy called softly, and the light turned, and then Bucky could see it was actually a man.

Steve was tall, broad-shouldered, and was dressed in red-white-and-blue, like Captain America. He was also mostly see through, the colours of his hair and uniform more suggestions than firm. He was an outline of soft, diffused light and Bucky forget how to even speak.

“Nice to officially meet you. Or, I suppose, properly meet you?” Steve said, and his voice sounded like he was speaking from down a very long tunnel, the sound bouncing around before it reached Bucky.

Bucky opened and closed his mouth a few times, and then some of the puzzle pieces clicked in his mind. “Oh, you’re not just dressed like Captain America...” he said, his eyes widening. He heard Peggy’s amused little chuckle, and felt his face heat with a blush.

Steve’s light rippled, and it took a moment for Bucky to see that he was awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. Used to be him.”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry- I had something actually smart to say, I- or at least polite,” Bucky rambled, pushing down the urge to tell Dernier to drop the ceiling on him. Mostly just because he knew Dernier would actually do it, and gleefully too.

Steve laughed then, and Bucky got a better look at his face when he lifted his head. He couldn’t quite make out all of Steve’s features, but his eyes were a shimmering blue that reminded Bucky of the sky back home in Indiana. When he was a kid, he used to lie out there for hours, watch as the clouds drifted endlessly, ships on an endless blue.

“Thank you. For saving me. I’m sorry it gave you so much pain,” Bucky said, offering up a smile that was hopefully not as weak as he felt.

Steve nodded, and Bucky held back a frown when it seemed like Steve’s smile faded a little. Not that Bucky could really tell, it was more a suggestion of movement. “You shouldn’t have been in danger in the first place.” His voice was stern, angry.

“We’ve got Jones and Dugan watching Dernier when I’m not. He won’t try again, if only because he doesn’t wish this to happen to Steve again,” Peggy said, but her mouth was twisted in distaste. Bucky took a guess, and supposed that she was disappointed he wasn’t going to do it again because murder was bad. Bucky, however, had seen the way Dernier looked at the stones, the building. Maybe it was less that he wanted Bucky and Becca gone, but he wanted only people that wouldn’t disturb the building within. The previous lord must have been Dernier’s favourite person ever.

“Thank you,” Bucky replied, meaning to them both. Peggy smiled softly at him again.

“I should be back to normal in a few days. It took more out of me than I was expecting. Not that it’s not worth it- you. Not that you’re not worth it,” Steve said, and the way he scramble to soothe a hurt in Bucky’s ego that didn’t exist made Bucky’s grin hurt his cheeks.

“I’m really thankful that you think I’m worth it, but I hope that you won’t have to put yourself through this again. It...sounds painful,” Bucky said.

Steve shrugged. “I’m already dead, not like things could get worse.”

“Cheery today, aren’t we?” Peggy teased, and they both screwed up their noses at each other.

Then something in Steve seemed to pull down, and once he was back to just standing, the look on his face was slightly panicky. He turned worried eyes on Peggy, who suddenly looked so terribly sad that Bucky had to remind himself that he couldn’t hug either of them. They were ghosts.

Didn’t stop his hand from making an aborted movement to touch Peggy’s shoulder.

“We should go, Steve’s still healing, for lack of a better term,” Peggy said, and Bucky looked over at the shimmering light that made up Steve, and noticed that it looked like he was trying to resist being pulled down. Bucky had no idea what was going on, but it was clear that it was something Peggy and Steve did not want him to see.

“Then I hope I see you inside soon, Steve! Feel better soon,” Bucky said, the words strange and way too cheery, though his embarrassment was somewhat soothed by the crooked grin he could just make out on Steve’s face.

Peggy led the way back through the tunnel, but as they were about to re-enter the courtyard, when there was a hoarse shout from behind them. Bucky turned around, half expecting to see Steve stagger out after them, but there was nothing. Just the same tunnel they’d passed through.

“Peggy? What was that?” He asked, emerging out back into the sun, taking care not to step through Peggy.

“Hmm? What was what?” Peggy replied, and while it was a fairly convincing lie that she hadn’t heard it, the worry in her eyes betrayed her.

“The shout-” Bucky started, and then came another one, fainter, but still in pain, still very desperate sounding. “Is- Is that Steve?”

The tunnel suddenly started closing, and Dernier lingered over the wall once it was done, something truly regretful in his expression.

“Forgive us our privacy, Bucky.” Bucky turned back to face Peggy, and she looked sad, resigned. “It would do you good to put it out of your mind.”

“If he’s in pain because of me-” Bucky started.

“Give him the dignity of his choice, Bucky. We have so little that we can do now, stuck here as we are. He chose to save you. He must think you’re worth it, hmm?” Peggy said, and Bucky, despite worry over those pained sounds, did as she asked. He put it out of his mind. At least for now.

--

Bucky decided to make dinner that night, seeing as Becca had been handling it herself while he was healing, and she still hadn’t re-emerged from when she left this afternoon. They had fought before, sure, they were siblings after all. Sometimes the silence between them would stretch out to a week before they turned around, crying into each other about how sorry they were. This time, Bucky didn’t even know how to start the conversation. He couldn’t go back to pretending he couldn’t see them, he’d had so much trouble handling his already existing mental health issues, he wasn’t going to drive himself even more crazy.

Plus, as Bucky rolled a lime on the table at Jones’ instruction, they could become friends. Especially when Jones smiled proudly a moment later as the cut limes produced way more juice than Bucky could usually get out of them.

“Can you smell this?” Bucky asked, stirring in the lime juice, his other hand reaching for the pepper.

Jones took a careful sniff, and then made an aborted nod. “Kinda? It’s like, I know there is a smell so I can smell it. Not like actually taking a breath in.”

“I suppose there wouldn’t be much need for you to breathe,” Bucky said, and then winced. “Is talking about you being...not alive, like, taboo? Insulting?”

Jones cracked a grin, and leaned against the counter. “I mean, don’t rub your being alive in my face and I think we’ll be good.”

“Okay, deal. Caveat though.” Jones raised an eyebrow. “Stop mooning after my sister? Maybe?” Jones coughed awkwardly and turned away, and Bucky stifled a giggle.

He tasted the rather slap-dash stir fry, and added another couple of pinches of salt, and then there was a cough in the doorway. He looked up, expecting it to be one of the ghosts, but saw Becca there, Booker at her feet. She looked pale, tired, and very small in her PJ’s.

“Becs? Hey, you okay?” Bucky asked, turning down the flame on the stir fry, shooting a smile over his shoulder at Jones who offered to keep an eye on it. Bucky grabbed his cane and walked over to Becca.

Becca fiddled with her top’s hem, something she’d done since she was small (their mother used to despair about all the tiny holes along her shirts), and she was chewing hard enough on her lip that Bucky was concerned she was going to bite right through it.

“Becca, what’s wrong?” Bucky asked, reaching out to take one of her hands in his.

“I...I,” Becca started and then sighed, rubbed her eyes and then looked back at him, looking less worried. “I believe you.”

Bucky froze, staring at her. She believed him? He- he wasn’t going mad!

Well, he did know that part already, but now-

“Wait- why? What convinced you?” Bucky asked, unfreezing long enough to unclench his hand from around hers.

Becca closed her eyes, and tipped her head back up towards the ceiling. “Because I saw the wall to the destroyed tower open and you walk inside? And just when I was about to run downstairs and check that I wasn’t hallucinating, and you were still in the living room, you came back out, the hole closed, and then I heard you come back inside.”

The words poured out of her like she wanted to get rid of them as quick as possible, and she didn’t look at Bucky the whole time she said them.

“Well, that’s...definitive proof of something,” Bucky said, uneasily. He didn’t like that Becca was a little angry about admitting he was right.

“Yeah, well, the only other explanation I have is that the wall opened and closed by itself, which is still supernatural and disturbing. So, ghosts it is. You can see ghosts, and I will...start wearing a swimsuit in the shower,” Becca said, and Bucky froze again.

He had barely turned around when Jones’ voice spluttered behind him. “Oh my god, we’re dead, not monsters! None of us would ever! Jesus, Mary-” He said, and sounded horrified enough that Bucky was willing to believe him. At least, enough to get back up from Peggy.

“Gabe Jones is here, and he says that no one has been or will watch you,” Bucky said, and Becca turned a sceptical eye on him.

“Yeah, okay, but I don’t like the idea that anyone could be watching me at any time, full stop,” Becca said, and Bucky had to give her that.

“All right, yeah. I’ll tell Peggy and Steve to keep an eye on them. You won’t be alone in a room with one unless I’m there, promise?” Bucky offered, expecting Becca to sigh and agree, or maybe look at him sceptically again, but instead her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.

“Wait, wait- woah, hang on, Steve? Steve Rogers, that Steve?” She asked, and suddenly both her hands were gripping Bucky’s wrists. Her nails dug in deep enough they felt sharp through his jumper.

“Ow! Yes, Becs, he’s their Captain- Peggy said- Ow!” Bucky whimpered as her nails dug just a little bit deeper, and she turned even wider, even more shocked eyes on him.

“He’s here? He’s here- Captain America is here- Holy fuck. Bucky- I-” Becca was practically vibrating. Bucky leaned a little ways back, suddenly very frightened of his sister and the unholy light in her eyes. “Bucky. I could finish my book.”

The zero to one hundred interest/belief in something was not Becca’s usual forte, and the brightness in her eyes was more troubling than encouraging to Bucky, who remembered with great pain, her all nighters during her last year of her degree, before she was accepted into her [Master’s] program, where she would skyrocket to hyper and then he’d find her bundled in a blanket sobbing over Booker that she was going to fail and moving to London would be for nothing.

So, rather than celebrating her sudden belief in the ghosts, he gently pulled her into a kitchen chair. “Becs-”

“Do you think it would be too soon to ask him questions? Where is he? Is he here? In the room?” Even her voice was speeding up, and Bucky was gonna kick himself for not noticing a manic episode creeping up on Becca.

“Becs. Breathe,” Bucky said, and took both her hands in his. He watched her frown, and then take a breath, and then her eyes snapped back to his.

“Oh- fucking shit I haven’t taken my meds in days- Fuck!” Tears were already brimming on her lashes. “I- with everything-”

“Becca, Becs, don’t apologise, don’t, it’s been so stressful for you,” Bucky soothed, and pulled her close, rubbing her back. “Why don’t we get you upstairs and comfy, and then we’ll start over tomorrow, yeah? Least we caught it now.”

“I didn’t even- I don’t think I’ve been sleeping the whole night-” Becca mumbled into his shoulder, and Bucky gave her a tight squeeze.

“Come on, Becs, let get you up.” With a little urging, Bucky got her standing, and while he made sure his cane was in hand, he was able to walk steadily enough to give Becca some support. They started their walk upstairs, Booker following close behind, making tiny whimpers.

Becca groaned. “I made my dog sad, Bucky,” she said, like it was the greatest crime she had ever committed.

“I think that’s his hungry noise, actually,” Bucky said, and smiled when Becca wheezed out a laugh.

They got upstairs, and once Becca was in bed, Bucky delivered her night meds, and her laptop, setting her up with a playlist of cooking videos on YouTube, and helped Booker up onto the bed. He quickly went back downstairs and turned the stovetop off, rescuing his slightly-charred stir fry (Jones looked shame-faced when he said that he hadn’t wanted to bother Bucky while he was taking care of Becca, but Bucky waved him off), and served up a bowl for Becca. He also filled a cup of water, and went back upstairs to deliver them both to her.

“Company or no?” He asked, and Becca made a face.

“Too hard. Skin feels...wrong,” she said. Bucky didn’t know if that was a yes or a no, and just waited Becca out while her face screwed up like she was swallowing a lemon. “Hesitant no, but will inform if change?” She landed on, eventually, and Bucky leaned over to kiss her head.

“You got it. I’ll be downstairs if you need me, okay?” With Becca’s nod, Bucky made sure that her heater was on (stone castles in the mountains are cold, who knew?), and went back downstairs.

He was somewhat surprised to see that Jones had been joined by Dugan, and very surprised to see Falsworth and Morita there too. He was even more surprised by the worry on the latter two’s faces.

“Uh. Hi? I feel slightly outnumbered,” Bucky said, heading back to get his own dinner.

“Is Becca gonna be okay?” Jones asked.

“Yeah. It’s an ongoing thing. It’s been something of a fortnight,” Bucky said, making sure that his own worry didn’t spill into his words. They’d been through her manic episodes before, and they’d gotten through them every time.

“What’s wrong with her?” Morita asked, and Bucky bristled at his blunt question, and tried to flatten his ruffled feathers before he answered.

“There’s nothing ‘wrong’ with her. She has bipolar disorder,” Bucky said, his tone still snappish, despite trying to keep himself neutral. Though, it is in his Older Brother’s Rights to be protective, right?

There was silence from the ghosts while Bucky sat at the kitchen table, and started in on his own dinner. Strange to have an audience to eat, but he supposed that if he didn’t know they were there, they would still Be there.

“And what does that entail, exactly?” Falsworth asked next, and Bucky stopped eating, and looked up at him. Every single one of their faces looked confused, or lost, or a worried combination of both. Bucky dropped his fork back into his bowl, and frowned at them.

“Bipolar? It-” Bucky started, and then remembered that they had died seventy years ago, and the only living people they had been around since was most likely a crotchety old man who probably still called PTSD ‘shell shock’. “It- so, you know how some people are just...and, uh-” Bucky scratched his head, looking at the four faces staring at him. “It’s like being born with shell shock,” he said, landing on the easiest explanation he could think of.

Every single one of their faces looked horrified, and Bucky felt that maybe he had gone too far on that particular explanation. “What- since she was born?” Jones asked, his tone aghast.

“Uh- Listen, it’s more complicated-” Bucky tried.

“That sounds like something fucking wrong to me!” Morita declared, looking at Bucky like he was the problem. How the tables turn, Bucky thought darkly.

“Okay! So it’s not a good comparison! It’s not as bad as that! But it’s hard to explain to a bunch of war-time ghosts who don’t know anything about the advancement of psychology and mental illnesses!” Bucky said, yelling over the top of Dugan who tried to interject.

That made them fall quiet enough that Bucky went back to eating, until the stares on his head got to much to ignore. He dropped his fork back into his bowl and looked back up.

“We will be kinder. For your sister,” Falsworth said, and Bucky was surprised to see him look genuinely saddened. Morita’s eyes looked apologetic. Bucky was torn between relief, gratitude, and deep suspicion.

“Knew plenty of people in my neck of the woods who didn’t come back right from the Great War. Becca’s a great girl. Don’t wanna make her life any harder,” Dugan said, and Jones nodded beside him.

“Oh. Well. Thank you, all. She’ll appreciate it,” Bucky said, the words thick and weird feeling in his mouth.

Even once the ghosts went off to do whatever they did at night, Bucky wondered at how quickly Falsworth and Morita changed their tune about Bucky and Becca, about them staying. He rubbed at his face, wincing a little as it shifted his bandage.

“They can’t be all bad, Steve liked them,” he mused out loud to himself.

And then blushed bright red at the very idea of calling Steve by his first name, even if it was just to himself.

Chapter Text

Becca had told him the one place in the house that had one bar of mobile data, and the next morning found Bucky with his laptop, shoved into the corner of the maybe-ballroom, cursing under his breath as the email he was trying to send to the Yggdrasil University in Germany kept bouncing back, while the webpage loaded and reloaded. “Fuck’s sake,” he growled under his breath, and slammed his laptop shut. Professors Laufeyson and Friggrsdottir would have to wait for his reply then, which probably meant they would withdraw their offer, sending him and Becca on the search for another historical engineering team. Worst came to worse, they could just hire some builders, but the guarantee of a team that would respect the original way the castle was built, that was a sacrifice Bucky would rather not make. 

“Problems?” Peggy’s voice said from behind him, and Bucky looked over his shoulder to smile at her. 

“Yeah, connection problems. I can make calls and texts easily enough, but the bulk of what I need to send can only be done through email,” he said, bracing himself on the wall to stand, his laptop tucked under his arm. 

Peggy nodded seriously. “I remember Mihai, your uncle, saying that he would rather die than have that ‘new-fangled’ internet near his home.” 

Bucky sighed. “Yeah, which makes mine and Becca’s life much easier,” he said, and judging from Peggy’s chuckle, the sarcasm was not lost on her. 

“Is it something perhaps you could have these universities install?” She asked, and then fell into step beside Bucky as he made his way back towards the kitchen, definitely the warmest room in the house. 

“They’ll most likely bring some kind of magic box so they can communicate easily while they’re here, but I doubt anyone would install anything permanent. Unless we opened the castle up to the public,” Bucky said, musing a little bit. 

“Is that something you would do? Allow tourists?” Peggy asked. 

Bucky shrugged. “I mean, I would allow people studying what Becca and I are, history and engineering. As for anyone else? I guess I haven’t thought about it. This is still our home, after all.” He turned a smile to Peggy. “And yours.” 

Peggy shook her head, smiling too. “I appreciate the kindness, but we are merely the voices in the walls. As much as Dernier would claim ownership, he can’t.” 

“None of that, you guys have been here the longest. If you don’t want a bunch of new strangers traipsing through, consider them banned,” Bucky said. 

Peggy’s lip wobbled slightly, and Bucky panicked for a moment that he had said something wrong, and then her perfectly poised features were back intact, and she was smiling at him gratefully. “Thank you, Bucky. That means more than you think.” 

Bucky had an idea of how much it meant, but would never argue with Peggy Carter, even in the short time he had known her. 

Once they were in the kitchen, Bucky was surprised to see Becca up, and standing by the kettle, two mugs by her hand. She looked up and smiled a little grimly, and then before Bucky could smile back, maybe say good morning, Booker shot out from between her feet to launch his tiny self at Bucky. 

“No no no no no no- Books- Agh!” Bucky managed to save his laptop from tumbling onto the floor and catch Booker, who had managed to jump as high as his hip. “Fucks sake, tiny man, you should not be jumping!”

Booker barked, clearly not caring in the slightest about what a dachshund should or should not be doing. 

Peggy chuckled again. “Tiny but mighty,” she said, and Bucky snorted in agreement. 

“Aw, Booker, you stole my thunder. I wanted to do that,” Becca pretended to grouse, grinning when Bucky put his laptop on the table to walk over to her. 

“Tiny but mighty applies to you too,” Bucky said, wrapping an arm around Becca and squeezing. “How’re you feeling today, champ?” 

Becca groaned loudly, nearly drowning out the bubbling of the kettle. “Tired, but okay. I’m gonna be vibrating for a few days while I get used to meds again, but mostly I’m just feeling stupid. Like, I haven’t messed up this bad in years,” she said, rubbing a hand over her face. 

“Yeah, well, last time it was because of school, this time it was- wait, what was it?” Bucky pretended to think while Becca elbowed him. “Ow- oh yeah! That’s right! Your brother was in hospital.” 

“Yeah, well, shut up,” Becca replied, but Bucky caught the blush on her cheeks. She was embarrassed. She always got so ashamed of herself for not being in control. 

So Bucky, not wanting to draw attention to it in case that was worse, merely pushed Booker into her face and he proceeded to lick every inch of it. “Ack! Booker! Bucky- why-” Becca managed to get out, between giggles. 

“Because it always works, that’s why. If he wasn’t so wriggly I’d tell you to train him up as your service dog,” Bucky said, and happily handed Booker over as Becca’s hands came up to grab him. 

“He’s a scent hound, he’d go nuts in a day,” Becca said, kissing Booker’s nose. He barked, and then let his tongue loll out in a big doggy smile. “Yes, you’re a special little man.” 

The kettle flipped off, and Bucky finished up what Becca started, making himself a coffee, and filling up Becca’s mug so her tea bag could steep. She usually switched away from caffeine for a little while, even after a small episode. Bucky, on the other hand, would probably fall into a coma without coffee. 

Booker was deposited on the floor, and the siblings sat down at the table with their drinks, Becca resting her heels on the seat so she was curled up, Bucky letting one leg dangle over an armrest. “Tried to send of the email to Yggdrasil this morning, but the connection kept dropping out. I think we’re going to have to descend the mountain,” Bucky said, and Becca pulled a face.

“Ugh. Yeah, okay, I can drop by the library while I do groceries later. May as well get everything done all at once.” She sipped her tea, frowning in thought. “Is there anything else we need to get while I’m down there?” 

“Make sure the grant approval paperwork goes through? We do not have the funds to cover the engineering team on our own, and the university can only cover so much. If we want the upstairs and insides done as well, we need that through as soon as possible,” Bucky said. 

“When will they start work?” Peggy asked, just as Becca started rattling off her own list of jobs that she wanted to cover, so Bucky shot her an apologetic smile, and waited for Becca to be done, before turning to face her. 

“We’re hoping as soon as possible, which means that if all the paperwork goes through and everyone can settled on a good start date, should be as soon as June. We’re hoping to get as much as possible done before it starts freezing,” he said, and noted the way Peggy seemed to be steeling herself. 

“Someone’s here? Who?” Becca asked, and sounded excited, though still apprehensive. 

“Peggy. She wants to know when the building is gonna get started.”

“Mostly so we can start preparing Dernier. We don’t want anymore trouble from him, he’s caused enough,” Peggy said, crossing her arms. Bucky would define blasting a wall apart and sending him plummeting to his almost-death to be slightly more than ‘trouble’, but he kept that to himself. 

“They’re gonna make sure no random walls open up, right? Like, I don’t know how we would explain that to the professors without sounding insane,” Becca said, and Bucky laughed. 

“Yeah, that is exactly why Peggy wanted to know. You might be on some kind of wavelength with them,” Bucky teased, and Becca uncurled one leg to nudge him with a pointed toe. She was blushing, though, maybe pleased by the idea. 

After they’d had their morning drinks, Becca fed her dog, and Bucky prepared a very quick scramble and bacon, so Becca would have some food before she embarked out on her all-day trip. Luckily, she wouldn’t have to go all the way to Dresden, a few smaller towns boasting supermarkets and libraries much closer. Bucky filled up the sink and dropped all the dishes in, and then helped Becca make sure she had shopping backs, and that their esky had some ice packs in it, just in case. 

“Okay, be good, don’t let any other ghosts topple you off towers,” Becca said, giving Bucky a slightly too-tight hug, but he put up with it, knowing she was worried. He had offered to go with her, but once she pointed out that there was still cleaning and organising to do, he relented. 

“Promise. I’ve got Peggy and the Captain watching my back now,” Bucky said, and the slightly manic glint in Becca’s eyes returned for a split moment. 

“Jesus. Captain America.” She shook her head, and when she looked back up, she seemed to have settled back down. She turned her attention to Booker, picking him up and kissing the top of his head. “You look over your uncle Buck now, sweet boy. Okay?” Booker gave a loud bark in reply, and wriggled in her arms. She kissed him again, and gently put him back on the ground, where he proceeded to wag his tail so hard his entire body was rocking back and forth. 

“We’ll be all good. See you tonight,” Bucky said, and Becca saluted, and got into the car, driving off down the mountain. Bucky waved until she was out of sight, and then sighed, looking back at the house. “I suppose the kitchen isn’t going to scrub itself.”

Booker barked again, seemingly agreeing, and Bucky scowled at him. 

--

The dishes were the easiest part of Bucky’s day. The rest of the kitchen? Well, some of the cupboard doors he managed to actually pull off with the force of his cleaning, not the hinges were particularly sturdy in the first place, and it turned out that the top of the stove, the beautiful old stove, was actually burnt, and not black like Bucky originally thought. He had already refilled his bucket three times trying to bring it back to life. 

It didn’t help that the ghosts kept floating in and out, asking how it was going. Falsworth even had the audacity at some point to point out that he had missed a spot. He didn’t even pretend to flinch when Bucky threw a rag at him, simply let the fabric float through him with a very disapproving look. 

Eventually, Bucky had to stop for a break, his back and knees killing him, so he took the water outside to the massively overgrown flowerbeds to pour it out, and sat on the top step, enjoying the late spring sunshine. He leaned back on his elbows, tilted his face towards the sun, and sighed softly. His back still ached a little bit, but stretching out a little helped with that, and he couldn’t be grouchy in a sunbeam, could he? 

“I hope I’m not disturbing you?” Said a familiar voice, and Bucky opened his eyes, looking to where it came from. Steve, in full Captain America regalia, gave him a shy little wave, and if Bucky hadn’t been sitting down he would’ve fallen over. Compared to last time he’d seen him, where he was little more than the suggestion of a person made of light, this was Steve in the full. Whole. 

And he was earth-shatteringly beautiful. It felt like Bucky shouldn’t be looking at him without paying something, or perhaps cursing to the sky that it was entirely unfair that someone like that existed. Or...formerly existed? That was going to rattle around in his head for a while.

“No! No, not at all, just taking a break from cleaning,” Bucky said, talking far too fast to make up for the way he’d gaped at Steve for just the slightest bit too long. He sat up properly, even shifting to the side to make room for Steve, if he wanted to sit. Steve took the opportunity, and sat down beside him. He turned a bright smile on Bucky, and Bucky felt almost blinded by it. “You look much better,” Bucky said, and then wanted to kick himself. 

At least until Steve ducked his head with a soft smile. “I feel better. I’m sorry you saw me like that. I can promise it doesn’t happen often,” he said. 

Bucky laughed. “Not many people falling onto their heads near you?” 

Steve’s blue (holy fuck so blue) eyes darkened momentarily, but the brightened again when Steve laughed too. “Can’t say it’s a common occurrence, no.” 

“I bet the others are glad you’re back,” Bucky said, stretching back out in the sun. 

“Peggy’s glad that she doesn’t have to babysit anymore,” Steve replied, and grinned when Bucky laughed at that. “She was getting tired of dragging everyone around by their ears.”

“Dad’s back, now mum gets to have a break?” Bucky joked, and Steve’s smile widened. 

“Ooh, don’t let them hear you call us that, it’ll catch on.” 

“Don’t want your subordinates calling you dad?” Bucky teased, and Steve’s cheeks reddened. It was so endearing, to see him so bashful.

“It’s strange they still call me Captain, honestly,” Steve said, and even though he was smiling, he did sound a little sad. Bucky had the sudden, impossible urge to hug him, but remembered how much it looked like Dernier had been in pain after Becca had passed through him, and it was enough to make him quell the urge. 

“Probably because Mr Rogers sounds weird,” Bucky said, and Steve’s surprised laugh set him off too. 

With a sigh, and a bit of a groan, Bucky curled forward, trying to stretch out his back a different way, and then struggled back to his feet. He looked down at Steve, and saw the way he pulled his hands back to himself, like he had gone to steady Bucky, and then remembered that he couldn’t. Bucky pretended he hadn’t seen that. “I’m gonna go make some food before I go back to cleaning.” The last word was said with some disgust, and Bucky was pleased that it made Steve laugh. 

“I’ll leave you to that then,” he said. 

“Oh, I didn’t mean- you’re welcome to come and join me, I- I mean it’s your house too,” Bucky said, mentally kicking himself for making Steve think he was dismissing him. 

Steve, however, just smiled gently and waved a hand at him. “I’ve got some things to do myself. Namely, tracking down wherever Dernier is hiding and making sure that he knows that he is not getting away with what he did.” 

Well. Bucky wasn’t going to get in the way of that mission. “Peggy also was going to make sure he knew about the other people coming. The university professors and builders and the like.”

Steve looked confused, but nodded. “Sure. I’ll make sure that gets across too.” He sounded like he had no idea what Bucky was referring too, and Bucky wondered how often the others had visited Steve while he recovered. Clearly not enough to fill him in, which made Bucky feel angry on Steve’s behalf. Not that he could do anything, they had their dynamic firmly in place and Bucky doubted anyone knew Steve better than the men he’d died with. 

“Cool. I’ll see you around then?” Bucky said, and congratulated himself on sounding like an absolute dork. 

Steve’s brow furrowed, but he looked more entertained by Bucky than off-put. “I’ll certainly be around.” 

“Right. Yeah. Cool,” Bucky managed, and then disappeared inside, trying to will his face into any other colour but red. 

--

The kitchen is as close to clean as Bucky could make it by the time Becca returns home, and he’s managed to make the cupboards without doors look at least like it was done purposefully. That doesn’t stop Becca from laughing at him as they haul in groceries. “Just had to He-Man the kitchen apart?” She teased, but started stacking their cleaning supplies in one of the spaces.

Bucky shrugged, and flexed an arm at her. She wolf-whistled, giggling, and Bucky glared off into the corner where Dugan had whistled too. 

“What a looker, Bucky!” He crowed, and Bucky flipped him off. 

“You know, you seeing ghosts is kinda like hearing only half of a phone call,” Becca said. 

“Except phone calls can be put on loudspeaker,” Bucky replied, pouring rice out of a bag into a container. “It’s more like translation.”

“Yes,” Becca said, nodding sagely. “They’re speaking a language I don’t understand.” 

“It’s more like being deaf!” Dugan added. 

Morita suddenly jumped in next to him, putting his two cents in. “And blind!” 

“Yeah, okay, stop heaping medical issues onto my sister,” Bucky said, and was treated to a pair of ghosts guffawing at him. While he was happy that Morita was no longer glaring at him constantly, if this was the trade off, Bucky wasn’t sure it was worth it. 

“Anyway,” Becca said, finishing up putting away one bag, before joining Bucky in filling up their containers with dried goods. “I got all the emails sent off, and got a couple back when I checked in later.”

“Hmm?” Bucky looked up briefly, once he was sure the lentils weren’t spilling all over their table. 

“Yeah, it looks like most of the team is in Norway at the moment, but they can be here before the end of the month. The Yggdrasil guys,” Becca said.

Bucky’s jaw dropped open. “Wait, end of the month? This month?” Becca nodded, her grin wide enough to split her cheeks. “Jesus, Becs, that’s really fucking soon. Way sooner than I thought it would be.” 

“Apparently Professor Laufeyson, his brother’s company has just finished up a job like this, and after a rest they’re more than willing to get started up here. And neither Laufeyson or Friggirsdottir saw any point in delaying a whole month when everyone was ready to go now,” Becca said, and Bucky could hardly believe their luck. 

“The other university, the one in Czech-” Bucky started, but Becca shook her head. 

“They’re gonna stick to their schedule, but as long as we send them updates, they’re fine supplying their part of the funding. We could have most of the exterior wall repaired by the time they get here.”

“Jesus.” Bucky snapped the lid closed on the full container, head spinning at how quickly things were coming together. “Fucking hell, Becs, month ago we were wondering if we were gonna have a place to live.” 

Becca walked around the table to wrap her arms tightly around Bucky’s waist and squeeze. “I know! I know, everything’s just...unbelievable. If you hadn’t nearly died I would call it perfect,” she said, and Bucky hugged her back tight. 

“I’ll call it perfect for you,” Bucky said, and put up with the slight pain of Becca pinching him. 

And while, yeah, she was right, his fall was less than ideal, but when he thought about never knowing they were living with the ghosts, never seeing Steve-

He supposed that some things are worth paying a strange price.

He and Becca jostled each other around the table while they prepared dinner, Jones appearing at one point to judge Bucky’s spice level, and once Becca knew why Bucky was being so defensive, joined in on the ribbing. Jones looked delighted, and Bucky supposed he could whether a few ‘white boy’ tastebud jokes. Even if Becca’s spice tolerance wasn’t even that much better than his. 

Becca did the washing up after, and then they flopped onto the couch in the living room for a few rounds of Mario Kart. Dugan, Jones and Morita were a very eager audience, though the only one on Bucky’s side was Dugan, the other two cheering for Becca as she managed to launch Bucky off the track with a well-timed green shell. 

Becca ended up winning two out of three cups, and then retired from her illustrious career to take Booker out to pee and try and cram in some research before bed. Bucky wished her goodnight, and then switched over to the DVD player, putting in one of his favourite seasons of a cooking show for some background noise while he worked on his knitting. 

“What’re you making?” Morita asked, leaning over Bucky’s shoulder, frowning at the mass of wool in Bucky’s hands. 

“Coat for Booker. It’s gonna get cold up here and he’s only got short fur,” Bucky said, pulling the pattern out from under his leg to show Morita. He expected a snort, maybe for him to tell him that knitting was a girly past time, or that dogs don’t need clothes, but instead he just peered closer, and then compared it to what Bucky was holding in his hands. 

“You’ve made it longer,” he said, and Bucky’s eyebrows raised in surprise. 

“Yeah, Booker’s got a little but long body. Pattern was for a terrier or a spaniel type dog, so I had to make it longer and wider,” he said, and was even more surprised when Morita hummed his approval. 

“Peggy said you have some connection problems up here,” he said, and Bucky was going to get whiplash from the change in topics. 

“Uh, yeah, mobile data only goes so far because of the cell towers-” Bucky started, but was quickly cut off.

“I’m not gonna pretend that I know or care what any of that is, but I can fix it,” Morita interrupted. 

“What do you mean fix it?” Bucky asked, narrowing his eyes. 

Morita wiggled his fingers. “Got something that needs connecting?” 

Bucky looked closer at his fingers, and then back up to his face. “Is this...is this a ghost power?” 

“You want the fucking enternet or what?” Morita growled. 

“...internet,” Bucky corrected, and then dropped his knitting to grab his phone out of his pocket. He didn’t see what Morita actually did, but after he took his hand away, Bucky had full bars of reception, and next to it the 4G symbol. He opened up Twitter, the first app he could think of, and his eyebrows shot up into his hairline when it loaded instantly. “What- how?” He looked around, but Morita had disappeared. 

Bucky gaped at the empty space where the ghost had been, and then looked down at his phone. “Is this included on my bill?” He wondered aloud, making a mental note to thank Morita when he next showed himself. 

“He can only be nice for so long before he has to go bully someone, to reset the balance,” Dugan said cheerily. 

“Do you all have powers?” Bucky asked, and Dugan shrugged in reply. 

“Maybe, maybe not. Peggy ‘n Dernier’s were obvious, Morita’s took coming into contact with a radio. Rest of us, maybe we just haven’t figured it out yet,” he said. 

“Rogers knew inherently, but he was super powered beforehand. Doesn’t count,” Jones said, an uptick in the corner of his mouth. It was a charming, rakish smile. If he’d turned up on Bucky’s doorstep as Becca’s date, Bucky would’ve high fived his sister. 

“Yeah, well, that’s Steve all over. Hero in his bones,” Dugan said, making a show of grumbling, but Bucky could see the pride he felt. The way he felt, the way all of Steve’s people talked about it, was just proof of how good a person Steve was. Is. Maybe the awe Bucky felt being near him was just a side effect of having all that goodness concentrated in his direction. 

“Why the hell is he doing that to that steak?” Jones asked suddenly, glaring at the television. 

Bucky looked up at the screen, where the chef was beating the living hell out of a piece of beef. “He’s prepping it for mincing. Or something. I forget what this dish is supposed to be.”

Jones huffed. “Perfectly good bit of meat like that doesn’t need to be smacked about,” he grumbled. Bucky felt a surge of fondness for him he battled to keep inside. He didn’t need to be getting attached to people only he could see. 

Instead, he just quietly went back to his knitting, laughing under his breath as Dugan and Jones yelled at the TV chef like passionate soccer fans. 

--

Bucky headed to the bathroom upstairs to clean his teeth and wash his face before bed, trying to be quick and quiet so he didn’t set Booker off barking. Becca would be trying to stick to a more consistent sleeping schedule, and he’d be a pretty awful brother to mess that up. 

On his way back down, however, he saw Steve lingering at the bottom of the stairs, peering at a framed poster Becca had hung up. He held his hands behind his back, practically in parade rest, were it not for the way his nose was inches away from the poster. Bucky couldn’t help the smile that rose to his lips. 

“Hey,” he whispered, and Steve jumped, spinning to face Bucky. He was red faced, like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

“Bucky, hey,” he whispered back, and Bucky had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing. Steve frowned at him. “What?”

“Why are you whispering? Becca can’t hear you,” Bucky pointed out, and muffled his laugh behind his hand as Steve somehow reddened further. 

He put his hands on his hips, leaning his weight on either foot, like he was struggling to stay still. “I feel weird speaking normally while you whisper,” Steve said, still whispering. 

Bucky had to admit it would feel weird to him were their roles reversed. “Fair enough. Come on, we move away from the stairs we can stop whispering like schoolgirls at a sleepover.” Bucky led the way down past the kitchen, heading for the turret his room was in. “You were looking at the poster pretty intently. Take it you’re a fan?” Bucky asked, voice at a normal volume as he nudged his door open with his shoulder, keeping his eyes on Steve. 

“It’s just a really beautiful use of colour. The artist is really talented,” he said, and Bucky got the impression that Steve was holding something back, which made him curious. “Are they well known?”

“It’s from a movie. Spirited Away. The girl is the main character, Chihiro, and the dragon is Haku,” Bucky said, and watched as Steve mouthed the names, like the words were precious. Bucky was beginning to think everything Steve did was designed to make him nearly unbearably endearing. “I could show you it sometime, if you like. Now that I know Morita can hook us up to the internet whenever.” 

“You would?” Steve asked, and Bucky was surprised that he was surprised. 

“Yeah, of course. Can show you the others from the same studio too. Can’t imagine Great Uncle whatever watched a lot of Studio Ghibli.” 

“Mihai,” Steve said, a little automatically. 

“Bless you,” Bucky said, and Steve’s laugh was almost startled out of him. 

“Like Bucky is any better of a name,” he shot back, and Bucky grinned, tilting his head. 

“Okay, yeah, got me there. Point still stands,” he said, and Steve raised his hands, as if in surrender. 

The silence that fell between them felt awkward, and suddenly Bucky was transported back to his first dates in high school, when he stand next to them at their door, wondering if he should lean in for a kiss or just bid them good night. An insane thought to have, in comparison to what was actually happening, which was him trying to have a normal conversation with a ghost. 

And not just any ghost, at that, but Captain fucking America. Jesus. 

“You must be tired. I’ll let you sleep,” Steve said, and Bucky realised he’d just been leaning in his doorway, staring at Steve for a long moment. Thank god Steve took it as him drifting off, and not as him staring at Steve in all of his himness. 

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I am, a bit,” he said. 

“Good night then, Bucky. Sleep well,” Steve murmured, and Bucky was slightly ashamed to admit even to himself how much he liked how Steve’s voice rumbled when pitched that low. 

“You too. Or- safe night? Quiet night?” Excruciating. Time to retreat into his room, and bury himself in covers. 

Steve didn’t seem to mind, and just gave him another soft, easy smile, and then was gone, simply walking through the wall. Bucky sighed, and stepped into his room, closing the door. 

He’s just handsome, and easy to fluster, and charming in an awkward way. It’s nothing. He’s just a nice guy. 

Bucky repeated those words like a mantra as he got into bed, willing the butterflies in his stomach to settle. 

Chapter Text

After a few days, Morita was able to be coaxed out by Steve and Peggy, and connected up Bucky and Becca’s laptops to the internet, Becca watching with amazement and confusion as suddenly she had access without any obvious connection, and Bucky making sure to thank Morita at least eight hundred times. Morita just told him to fuck off, and disappeared again, but Bucky caught the outlines of a smile on his face. Peggy seemed to approve, at least, and that was worth enough on its own. 

More importantly, with access to the internet without the full day trips down the mountain, communication between the Barnes’ siblings and the various people that were getting involved with the restoration was much quicker, and soon Becca had a full itinerary of the Yggdrasil team’s travel plans the week leading up to their arrival. They were able to find accommodation in a town at the foot of the mountain, but also would take advantage of the large ballroom to stay in, should they need to. 

Once that was sorted, and the grants from the government came through, there wasn’t much else for Bucky and Becca to do but wait for their arrival. 

“God, I feel like I’m ten waiting for Santa all over again,” Becca groused, her leg jigging vibrating where she’d propped her foot up on the table. “Like I knew I was celebrating that they were able to get started so soon, but this is somehow still not soon enough.”

“Get your foot of the table,” Bucky said, lovingly, flicking dishwater at her. She made a noise like an angry cat, which of course set Booker off, yapping away, trying to jump up onto Becca’s lap. 

“I just don’t know what do with myself,” Becca complained, and Bucky was not falling for that for a moment. 

“You’ve still got thesis work to do,” he reminded her, and judging from the noise she made, she was not happy with his level-headed response. 

“I’m waiting on my professor to get back to me. Needed some clarification on some things. Can’t work on it until she replies,” Becca said, sounding petulant and whiny, which made Bucky laugh. 

“See, this is why I learned how to knit. Takes up so much time, and you get a fun thing at the end of it,” he said, trying to sound as smug as possible. 

“You’re the worrrrrrrrrrrst,” Becca groaned, and Bucky heard her stand, the chair scraping back across the stone. “I’m gonna take Booker for a walk. Get to know the forest and the mountains and such.” 

“Don’t get lost,” Bucky warned her, and smiled when she headbutted him affectionately.

“I can go keep an eye on her, if you like?” Jones offered, sliding off the countertop. “I haven’t really been much further than the castle, but the grounds extend pretty far into the forest.”

“Yeah, thanks Gabe. Jones, sorry,” Bucky said, genuinely apologetic for being so familiar with him. 

Jones shrugged, and sent him that rakish half-smile. “Nah, Gabe’s fine. S’long as it’s cool with you?” 

Bucky smiled at Gabe, wishing not for the first, and definitely not the last time, that he could at least shake the ghost’s hands. “Gabe, then. Thanks.” 

Gabe shrugged, and followed Becca and Booker out, Becca bellowing out a goodbye that would’ve sent an avalanche down the mountain. Bucky yelled one back, and then it was just him in the kitchen, for once. At least, until Steve appeared through the doorway, somehow the weirdest way any of the ghosts have entered a room. 

“Morning, Bucky,” he said, taking Becca’s empty chair. He looked so right, sitting at the kitchen table, relaxed in the dim light coming through the high windows, that Bucky had to remind himself that he was a ghost, and not somehow flesh-and-blood human that Bucky could go over and hug. Hand a coffee. 

“Hey, Steve. How’re you doing?” He rinsed the suds off the pan, and set it in the drying rack. 

“Good. So, uh, Peggy filled me in on your plans to restore the castle?” Bucky turned around, and Steve looked like he meant business. It made Bucky want to stand up straight, maybe salute. Deliriously, he wondered if Steve would be into that, and then beat that particular brain worm back into its hole. 

“Yeah, we’ve got a timeline for you guys, if that will help?” Bucky offered.

Steve’s smile was grateful, and relieved. “It would, actually. I’ve gotta have a word with everyone, just to make sure they know that they know what the rules are. And by everyone, I think you know exactly who I mean.” His eyes strayed up to Bucky’s head, where he’d recently been able to remove the bandage. 

Bucky shrugged, laughing a little. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s not have a repeat performance. If only for your sake.”

“Mine?” Steve said, looking surprised, which in turn surprised Bucky.

“Yeah. You’ll probably do for them what you did for me, right? Rendering you all...not there,” Bucky said, losing confidence as he talked, eventually directing his last mumbling words to his feet. 

“You’re...worried about me?” Steve said that like it was truly the strangest thing Bucky could be doing. 

“Well, yeah. It sounded like you were in pain,” Bucky said, and a glance upwards to Steve’s face made the worry increase.

Steve looked utterly blank, if not for a look in his eyes, like he was ashamed. “I- I didn’t know you heard that.” 

“They tried to get me out quickly, Peggy and Dernier, but I still- yeah. And I don’t want you to have to go through that again. Or have anyone else get hurt,” Bucky said, remembering to care about the not-ghosts too. Alive people. Those ones. 

Steve wrung his hands in his lap, looking very far away, which only served to worry Bucky even further. “It’s not...I’m not in pain. It’s...different,” he said, and before Bucky could ask what he meant, he stood up. “I’d better go organise every else. Get on top of this quickly. Thanks, Bucky,” he said, and then was disappearing too quickly for Bucky to even say anything. 

Bucky stared at the chair Steve had just vacated, questions swirling in his mind, and then turned back around to the dishes, grabbing the towel to dry them. He wouldn’t claim to be an expert on either ghosts or even Steve himself, but the shame he saw in him, that wasn’t from frightening Bucky, or even from worrying his fellow ghosts. There was something deeper to his shame, and Bucky would be lying if he said that didn’t trouble him the most. 

Despite the speed at which Steve had left, he didn’t actually gather around his team and give them a talking to until much later, just after Bucky and Becca had eaten dinner. They were well into their second cup on Mario Kart, their usual cheerleaders on either side of the couch, when through the wall came Peggy and Falsworth, Dernier following behind, and finally Steve, from the opposite wall. Bucky paused the game, and looked around at the ghosts who had been with them since they started the game, and all of them had looks of apprehension and confusion on their faces. Clearly this was not planned. 

“Buck? What’s going on?” Becca asked, voice very quiet like Bucky was an easily startled animal. He shushed her, and looked to Steve, like everyone else was. 

He felt his mouth go dry at the look of complete authority on Steve’s face. He stood with his feet shoulder width apart, his hands clasped behind his back, and his jaw set in a firm line. This was Captain Rogers, ready to give orders, and here sat Bucky, stunned lemming impersonator. 

“Soon we’re going to be hosting even more people here, builders and professors who will be assisting the Barnes’ siblings in their restoration of the castle. I know we’ve never had so many visitors sprung on us, but we’ve also never had a situation where our presence was noticed. Things cannot and will not be passed off as accidents, and we will not put anyone else’s lives or livelihoods in danger. We may have been here the longest, but we are little better than guests here. Am I completely understood?” Steve directed this last sentence mostly towards Falsworth and Dernier, both of whom nodded shame-facedly. Steve nodded back. “All right then. We’re going to be as unobtrusive as possible during this process, and we are not going to put Bucky in the position where he has to cover for our existence. Yes?” 

“Yes, Captain,” echoed around the room, Dugan snapping a lazy salute. 

“Good.” With that, Steve nodded to Bucky, and strode off through the wall nearest Peggy, and she looped her arm and fell into step. After they were gone, Morita, Gabe and Dugan started nagging Bucky to turn the game back on, but it wasn’t until Becca poked him in the arm that he came back down to Earth. 

“You’ve been sitting there for like...five minutes staring into space. What’s going on?” She asked, giving the room another pointless, cursory search.

“So, uh-” Bucky heard his voice crack and squeak, and hurried to clear it with a cough, Becca’s face looking delighted at the prospect of teasing Bucky for that. “Steve just lay down the law in a very stern way about the people coming up next week.” Even after clearing his throat, his voice still sounded a little hoarse, something that clearly delighted Becca.

“Ooooooh, so the Captain got up and gave some orders, did he?” She singsonged, and Bucky smacked her arm, feeling a blush spread down his neck. “Did you think about him giving you some more private orders?” 

“Oh my god, Becca, shut up,” Bucky said, but the damage was already done, Dugan leaning over to leer in his face. 

“She got your number? You want our dear Captain Rogers to boss you around a little bit?” He said, grinning triumphantly when Bucky pulled a pillow over his face, hoping he could smother himself to death. 

“All of you shut up!” He shouted, his voice coming out muffled and weak. 

Later on, as he curled up on his side in bed, he felt grateful for the teasing, in a weird way. He and Becca were both bi, and hearing a tease that gentle from Dugan, no trace of disgust in his voice, meant that even if they were from a time where being who they were was illegal, clearly none of them felt that way personally. 

Did not help that he was going to be doomed to be mocked every time he blushed in Steve’s presence, but he supposed he’d take what wins he could.

--

The Yggdrasil University team were not at all what Bucky was expecting, and judging from the matching look of shock and awe on Becca’s face, either was she. First of all came the two professors, both with long dark hair swept back from their faces, dressed impeccably in black and green, and moving fluidly despite the cracked and damaged stone beneath their feet. “Loki Laufeyson,” said the man, holding his hand out, Bucky and Becca taking it in turns to shake his hand, somehow mumbling their names in reply. 

“I’m Hela Friggirsdottir. Pleasure,” the woman said, barely giving them a glance. Becca seemed to choke on air, and Bucky spent a solid thirty seconds whacking her on the back. Hela did not give Becca another look, but floated off to inspect some part of the walls, Loki following behind. 

“Holy shit,” Bucky said. 

“I want her to step on me so bad,” Becca wheezed, once she was finished coughing, nearly sending Bucky off into a coughing fit of his own. 

They followed after the far-too-good-looking professors, Bucky retrieving his laptop so they could go over the plans he had set up, and felt a surge of childlike pride when Hela congratulated him on his good work, and Loki asked follow up questions that had Bucky’s heart racing with the need to prove himself to these two. 

“Your head, are you healed now?” Loki asked, and Bucky’s hand shot up to the now unbandaged section of his head, the stitches having since come out. The scar wasn’t subtle, and his hair had been shorn around it, so it was even more obvious. 

“Yes, I’m fine now. Fully healed,” Bucky assured him.

“Good. It wouldn’t do to have work interrupted by your absence,” he replied, and for some reason that set Bucky off blushing again. Becca pinched his side, and Bucky smacked her hand away when he was sure the professors weren’t looking. “My brother and the rest of his team will be here soon, they are just waiting on their last of their number to arrive.” 

“All good. It’s not like we’re on a tight time schedule,” Bucky said, and wanted to cringe at the twin looks of disapproval. 

“I would say wanting to have this place ready to withstand the winter is a time constraint of some importance, would you not agree?” Hela said, voice steel and stern. 

Bucky nodded, rendered speechless by the look in her eyes, and once she went back to his laptop he shot a look at Becca. She frantically mouthed back ‘RIGHT? RIGHT!?’

Just when they were just about recovered from the appearance of Loki and Hela, the builders arrived, and Bucky’s mouth was on the floor once more, as a bevy of absolutely built men and women tumbled out two vans, joking and shouting back and forth boisterously. 

“Ah! Hello! You must be the Barneses!” Shouted one man, with short blonde hair and a rugged beard. He had a tank top on, the collar low enough to show off the tattoo spilling down his chest of a lightning storm. As he got close to the siblings, he held out his hand, grinning broadly. “Thor Odinson, truly an honour to meet you both.” 

Bucky took his hand, and nearly whimpered when Thor shook it vigorously. Becca had to hold in a similar reaction, and Bucky could admire the giant biceps on the man, and the hammer tattoo that adorned the right one. 

“Everyone! Come meet the owners!” Thor called at the others, and then the horde of far-too-attractive Vikings descended on Bucky and Becca, the both of them getting back slaps and handshakes, and even one of them going so far as to lift Bucky off his feet in a huge bear hug. 

Once the bulk of the group had moved aside, there was just two people left to meet. One with brown skin, dark brown hair in multiple braids, and bright white face tattoos smiled slyly at Becca, while the other, tall, white, with flowing brown curls, winked at her. Becca waved, and then blushed bright red. 

“I’m Val. This is Sif. Nice to meet you both,” Val said, giving Bucky a plenty friendly smile, before directing one at Becca like she wanted to eat her. Sif looped her arm through Val’s and the two of them joined the others, though they both looked back at Becca one last time. 

“Holy shit I am so gay,” Becca breathed. 

“Fucking seconded,” Bucky agreed. 

“Thirded,” said Steve, appearing suddenly on Bucky’s left. 

“That would make me number four,” Peggy said, stepping between Bucky and Becca.

Bucky felt like a spectator at a tennis match, the way his head snapped between the two ghosts. “Wait, for real?” He asked, eyebrows in his hair. 

Steve made a noncommittal noise, and waved a hand. 

“I suppose there would be a more modern word for it, but I have never had a preference for gender,” Peggy said, going slightly more in-depth than Steve’s vague gesture. 

“Yeah, we call that pansexual,” Bucky said, and felt a warmth in his chest when Peggy tilted her head to consider it, then nodded. 

“I suppose labels only exist so that we don’t have to explain ourselves every time,” she mused. 

“Who? Who is it?” Becca whispered, turning to face Bucky. 

“Peggy,” he whispered back, and he and Peggy giggled at Becca’s eyes widening with absolute joy. 

“Margaret Carter is pansexual. Oh my god. I fucking wish I could put that in my book,” she said, and then shook herself a little. “Okay, but for real, we need to focus.” 

Bucky turned a look towards Steve, trying not to call it hopeful, but still followed Becca back over to the group, where the plan for the day was starting to take shape. 

He’d just have to ask Steve what he meant later.

--

Despite the loudness of the group, and the completely careless air they all seemed to carry, Thor and his team were consummate professionals, and soon he and Bucky were standing by the section of wall Dernier had blasted apart (not that Bucky was planning on telling them that), and he was nodding seriously as Bucky explained the process used in building the wall in the first place. 

“It must seem a little dumb to you, to use all these old practices when modern shit works way better,” Bucky said, after silence had fallen for a moment and he felt awkward as hell. 

Thor, however, shook his head. “These old buildings have lasted hundreds of years. One thing I’ve noticed about modern buildings is that a lot of them are not built to last. To be easily replaced. This?” Thor gestured with one huge, calloused hand at the castle. “This place withstood war and weather. I think we have a lot to learn from the...who was it? Bohemians?” 

Bucky laughed. “It’s Bohemian style, not too sure that it was the actual country of Bohemia, yet. Still going into the history.” He wasn’t going to admit just how much it set his heart racing to hear Thor say just why he had been obsessed enough with historical engineering to move entire countries. 

“History teaches us much, and it would do many people good to listen better,” Thor said seriously, and then cracked a huge grin, clapping Bucky hard enough on the shoulder that his knees nearly buckled. “Not that I have to tell you, nor my siblings that!”

“Siblings? Loki told us he was your brother-” Bucky said, and then looked over to the two professors, noting the weird similarity between them again. 

“Hela is my sister,” Thor said, grinning broadly. “Not that she enjoys admitting it. She was...somewhat estranged from our family.” 

“Oh.” Bucky looked between the two slim, tall, black-haired professors, and then looked back to built-like-a-brick-shithouse, blonde, bubbly Thor. “I suppose they take more after one parent and you the other?”

“Well, Loki is adopted,” Thor said, and then before Bucky could process that, he was called over to the destroyed turret by a few of his team, and with a wave, jogged over to them. Bucky was left with question marks swirling around his head, and decided that family drama was not the kind of history that any of them were here for. 

Most of the day was spent going back and forth between a few teams of the builders, as they started setting up supplies and sectioning off areas, and returning to the professors as they went through Bucky’s notes and Becca’s plans. They didn’t question the availability of the internet so far up in the mountains, thank god, Bucky still wasn’t sure how to explain that. Around lunchtime the builders took a break to eat, Hela and Loki disappearing into their car, both of them on three different devices, and Becca and Bucky made tea and coffee for anyone who asked for one. 

Bucky was treated to a round of big beaming smiles that had him grinning back so hard it hurt, but that was nowhere near the reaction Becca had when she handed Sif and Val their drinks, and Sif winked at her again, while Val practically purred a thank you. 

As they walked back inside together, Becca’s cheeks were still bright, bright red, and she was muttering ‘holy shit holy shit holy shit’ over and over again to herself. Bucky bumped her hip with his, and grinned hugely at her, and got a whack to the arm in response. “They liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike you,” he teased.

“Oh my god, I will strangle you to death,” Becca agonised, whacking him again, this time with the tray she was carrying.

--

Plans made, and lists of supplies gathered, the Yggdrasil team packed up just before the sun went down, and said their goodbyes until tomorrow. Bucky had the absolute delight of watching Sif and Val turn his sister bright red once more, and then it was just the Barnes’ and the ghosts again. 

“What a day,” Dugan said, coming out from wherever he’d been hiding. “Haven’t heard this much action around here since we were alive.” 

“It was certainly something to see some life in here, that was not of the small furry kind,” Falsworth added, looking down at a recently-freed Booker, who was sniffing at everything, as if trying to find out everything he’d missed while being locked up in Becca’s room. 

“You guys okay with it all?” Bucky asked, and if he meant to direct it more toward Dugan than Falsworth, that was merely because despite the other man’s lack of hostility, he was still...off putting. 

Dugan shrugged. “Not our house, like Carter said.”

“Kinda is,” Bucky replied, and Dugan shot him a lazy wink. 

“As you say, boss.” It wasn’t really him agreeing, more like soothing Bucky’s pride. He wondered if that was Dugan’s power, his endlessly easy-going nature.

“Buck? Dinner’s on!” Becca called out, and Bucky whistled for Booker to come back, and got a sharp bark in reply, but no running feet. 

“Booker! Come on, bud!” Bucky yelled, and whistled again. Booker whined, high and worried, which of course had Bucky immediately running to where he’d heard the noise, but surprisingly, Dugan and Falsworth ran beside him. 

Booker was digging frantically at a hole in one of the turrets, the one on the opposite side of the destroyed one, whining high. He looked at Bucky as he approached, and barked frantically. 

“Hey, hey bud, what’s wrong?” Bucky soothed, getting on his knees beside Booker, who barked again, and went back to digging at a patch of dirt beneath the hole. Bucky scrambled to get his phone out, to turn on the flashlight, and got on his belly to shine it into the hole, wondering what had Booker so spooked. 

At first he couldn’t see anything, and then far back in the hole, against another weak section of the wall, was a tiny pile of dirty white fur. Bucky’s heart sank, not seeing any movement, but then the smallest feline face appeared, and hissed weakly at the light, pupils shrinking back to slits. “Holy shit- One of you get Dernier!” Bucky shouted at the ghosts, and heard Falsworth tear off, shouting for him, which was another surprise. 

“What’s going on, Bucky?” Dugan asked, kneeling next to him.

“There’s a kitten down there, I think Booker was trying to get her out,” Bucky said, moving the light away from the kitten’s face.

“What a good boy he is. Little hero,” Dugan cooed, and Booker barked once at him, then promptly went back to digging. 

“Buck? What’s wrong?” Steve’s voice said, and then he and Dernier were crouched down next to Booker. 

“Dernier, can you make this wider? There’s a kitten down the back,” Bucky asked. 

Dernier lay his hands on the stone, and nodded. “Be quick, it is not so stable here,” he ordered, and Bucky nodded. 

“Booker, away now, away buddy,” he said, and Booker whined, but stopped digging and sat back. Dernier opened the hole wide enough to fit Bucky’s upper body, and Bucky wriggled in as quick as possible, scooping up the tiny kitten, feeling her try and bite him, hissing weakly, but paid it no mind. He held her as close to his body as he could, feeling her tiny, wheezing breaths next to his next, and pulled himself back out, Dernier pulling the stones back together once he was clear. 

“Is it okay?” Steve asked, leaning in to get a look at it. 

“She’s really weak, she’s too young to be without the mother,” Bucky said. “I’m not an expert or anything, but I’ve watched some stuff.”

“Or her growth has been stunted from not eating,” Steve said, and Bucky looked up at him. He shrugged. “Used to try and save strays as a kid.” 

The image of tiny Steve with a box of kittens was unbelievably cute, but far too distracting for right now. He had to get the kitten warm, and fed. She wasn’t fighting him anymore, and he could feel the way she was trembling. He darted inside, yelling at Becca to look up a 24/7 vet in the area, while he went through their pantry supplies, remembering vaguely that they had a carton of lactose free milk. Becca had bought it, arguing that one of the builders might be allergic to dairy, and maybe Bucky had said that was dumb at the time, but now he was praising his sister’s foresight. He poured a little into a bowl, dipped his finger in it, and coaxed the kitten to suck it off his finger, nearly crying in relief when he felt her sandpaper tongue. 

“Fuck, Bucky, she’s tiny,” Becca said, leaning in close to see just how small and sickly the kitten was. “And filthy.” 

“You got a place?” Bucky asked. 

“Yeah, bought forty minutes from here. I’m gonna grab Booker’s stuff, you get in the car now.” Thusly ordered, Bucky darted out into the car, Steve and Dugan waiting with him. They leaned on either side of the open passenger side door, while Bucky sat with the bowl of milk balanced on his lap. 

“She gonna be okay?” Dugan asked, and the genuine concern in his voice was heartwarming. 

“Yeah, yeah, we’re gonna make sure of it,” Bucky said, feeding the kitten more of the milk. “She didn’t survive up here on her own so long for this to end badly.”

“She’s lucky to have you in her corner, Buck,” Steve said, and Bucky looked up at him. He doubted he was ever gonna get used to having the full attention of Steve’s blue eyes on him. 

“Okay, get in properly, let’s go,” Becca said, climbing into the driver’s side, Booker leaping in to sit at Bucky’s feet, staring up at the kitten, his tail wagging hopefully. Bucky closed his door, making sure not to jostle the kitten too much, and smiled at the thumbs up Dugan gave him as Becca turned the car around. 

The kitten let out the tiniest, yet most determined mewl Bucky had ever heard, and he gently nuzzled the top of her head. “You’re gonna be okay, little girl. You’re gonna be okay,” he said, and dipped his finger back into the milk for her. 

Chapter Text

Bucky felt someone nudge his foot, and he stirred from his drowsing, not-sleeping-but-not-awake state, groaning as he stretched out in the uncomfortable waiting room chair. He blearily opened his eyes, and smiled as Becca handed him a coffee. “‘time ’sit?” He mumbled, and arched his back enough that he heard a crack. 

“Seven. You weren’t picking up your phone so I thought I’d just drive back down,” Becca said, sitting next to him. “How’s it going?” 

Bucky gestured over to the reception desk. “Haven’t had word in a few hours, ‘s why I kinda fell asleep.” The next thing to crack was his jaw, as he let out a huge yawn. “Thanks for the coffee,” Bucky said, and took a gulp of it, feeling somewhat distantly that he had burned his tongue, but was still tired enough that it was more of a mild irritation. 

“All good. Didn’t want you up this early without it.” Becca squeezed his upper arm, and he smiled as genuinely as he could, still feeling bleary and tired. “Also I’m gonna have to drag you back up the mountain before the team gets there, or you’re gonna have to get the world’s most expensive Uber.” 

“Oh god, right, all the people that are going to be at the castle. Right. Them,” Bucky said, blinking. He felt more awake now that he remembered that. “Shit. I’ll leave my number with the receptionist, then we’d better head back.” 

Becca rubbed his arm encouragingly, and Bucky hauled himself up, stumbling a little on tired legs. 

The receptionist smiled nicely at him as he leaned on the counter, and he was grateful that she didn’t outwardly show how weird she no doubt thought he was. He asked to leave his number, so that the vet could call with news if there was any, and she dutifully took it down, and promised to let the vet know that he was interested in continuing care if need be. 

Bucky then looped his arm around Becca’s waist so he could lean on her while she led him back to the car. He grinned at Booker jumping frantically in the passenger seat, barking loudly enough to be heard through the closed door. Becca had to grab his leash as he tried to make a break for Bucky as soon as the door opened. Bucky slid into the seat, pulling the wriggling little dog into his lap, and promptly lolled off into a nap as Becca drove them back up to the house. She then poured him into bed so he could get at least a few hours of sleep before the builders arrived. 

Once he was awake, however, he was bombarded with concern from the ghosts he had momentarily forgotten existed. 

“Guys, slow down, please,” Bucky mumbled tiredly, and winced a little as Steve forcefully shushed everyone. “Yeah, I’m okay, I’m just tired. Don’t know anything about the kitten yet, the vet will call me later.”

“She was so small,” Dernier said, and he sounded so terribly sad. His French accent somehow made it sound even more tragic. 

“And dirty,” Dugan added. There was a deep furrow in his brow. 

“Yeah, the vet said she’d probably been on her own for a couple days.” Bucky said, scrubbing his face with the heel of his hand. He side eyed the kettle which was not boiling fast enough. “They were gonna put her on a drip and clean up, see what medical help she needs. They were mostly worried about her weight.”

“But you will get a call, yes? About whether she is okay?” Dernier asked again, and Bucky withheld the urge to roll his eyes. 

“Yes, I should, but I can’t tell the vet what to do, and I wouldn’t wanna distract them away from taking care of the kitten. Okay?” He gave Dernier a stern look, and was surprised to see the way he wilted. 

“No more bothering Bucky about the cat, he’ll tell us when there’s news,” Steve ordered, and the ghosts assembled drifted off, only Dugan agreeing. 

The kettle flipped off, and Bucky poured water into his second cup of coffee for the day. God, he’s going to have such a headache.

“Sorry. They mean well, at least?” Steve’s voice said, sounding sheepish. Bucky did not have the brain space available to think about why Steve would have to apologise for his people being concerned, and he was busy trying to inhale coffee fast enough to stop the yawn that was going to crack his jaw in half. He waved a hand at Steve, and gulped down the dregs of his coffee, slamming the mug down and gulping in air. “Jesus.”

“It did nothing,” Bucky said darkly, and then felt his mouth gape open with his yawn. He withheld in the glare he wanted to send Steve’s way when he heard his stifled laugh. Instead he just assembled some more mugs, setting out supplies for tea and coffee, and then went to go find Becca, stepping carefully around Steve. 

His eyes were bright with mirth, and Bucky was suddenly fine being the butt of the joke.

--

Bucky and Becca were leaning over an architectural plan with Thor and Hela when Bucky got a call. He apologised and excused himself, feeling almost doubly embarrassed when Hela shot him a very disapproving look, but one glance at the number made his thoughts very centred. 

“Hi, hello! Yeah, this is him,” Bucky said, switching to German. He nodded along with the information being given, and then smiled. “Yes! Wonderful, yeah, we’ll be happy to take her. I’ll be there in about an hour. Yes. Thank you, see you soon.” He hung up on the call, and turned back to Becca, giving her a thumbs up, paired with a huge grin. 

“She’s okay?” Becca said, a smile on her face to match his. 

“Yes, and they said that the rest of her care can be done by us, so I’m gonna race down there and pick her up, along with anything else we need.” Bucky was already stashing his phone in his pocket, and making a mental list of what to take from home to make the kitten more comfortable. A blanket, for sure. Some kind of heat pack, maybe? The vet surely will have a microwave. 

“You are taking care of a child?” Thor asked, his brow furrowing. 

“Oh! No, we found a kitten last night, managed to get her to the vet. She’s gonna be okay, just needs round the clock care,” Bucky said. “I’m so sorry, but I probably won’t be back until 4. Becca has the rest of my notes.” 

Thor waved off his apology, grinning with him. “By all means, go fetch the child!”

“It’s a kitten-” Bucky tried to correct, but Thor just boomed another laugh.

“Pets are simply children of another breed. Would you not say so, Hela?” The look he was giving her was definitely that of a teasing older brother. 

Hela rolled her eyes. “Leave Fenris out of this, thank you,” she said, smacking his upper arm. He didn’t even pretend it hurt. 

Okay. So perhaps they were actually siblings?

Bucky shook off his curiosity and confusion, and simply hugged Becca, and raced inside to collect the car keys and some things to keep the kitten comfortable and warm. Booker followed him through the house, as if sensing that he was going to get a new friend, tail wagging furiously. The hardest part about leaving was trying to stop Booker from leaping into the car with him. Becca had to hold him while he struggled, whimpering. Bucky felt genuinely guilty, at least for the first ten minutes of the drive, and then excitement took over, when he thought about the tiny little girl waiting for him down the mountain. 

--

True to his word, Bucky didn’t manage to return until 4, as work was wrapping up for the day. He could see the ghosts up on the ramparts, looking for all the world like they wanted to swarm him, to see the kitten, but thankfully Steve’s words had gotten through to them. 

That meant when Bucky arrived, the first people to coo over the kitten, tucked into a sling, her entire body curled close to Bucky’s neck, was his sister and Booker. Any worries Bucky had that Booker would be too excited were thrown out the window, as Booker very gently snuffed into the kitten’s fur, and gave her one lick to her head. She meowed, her claws digging into Bucky, but didn’t try and swipe at him. Bucky could cry, he was so happy.

“Books, that’s enough sweetheart. Good boy,” Becca cooed, kissing his head and then putting him down, where he stared up at Bucky, eyes big and hopeful. Becca leaned in to see the tiny bundle of fluff, and stroked one finger on her head. “How is she?” 

“They gave her a good clean, made sure that she didn’t have anything that needed treating by them, but yeah, she’s too small for her age. They think she’s around 8 weeks,” Bucky said, and felt the tiny rumble of her purrs as Becca stroked her. “She’s purring!”

“Awwwww, poor baby,” Becca said, looking sadly at her. “She looks way too small for that age.” 

“They think she might’ve been the runt of the litter. That she was abandoned.”

“But she was too tough to give up, right?” Becca tickled under the kitten’s chin. “Brave little thing.” 

“The bravest,” Bucky said, nuzzling his cheek gently into her. 

“Ah! Is that the baby?” Thor said, practically bounding up to see her. Becca backed off so Thor could lean in, and Bucky tried very hard to not pay attention to how close Thor suddenly was, all big and strapping, and gently patting the tiny kitten. “Hello, little one. You are in very good hands now.” He straightened and grinned at Bucky, and Bucky tried to not let his knees buckle. 

“Well, I’ll do my best-” He stammered. 

“Nonsense. If you put in even slightest the amount of care into her as you do your home, she will grow strong and healthy,” Thor said, and he sounded so certain that Bucky wanted to know what he knew that Bucky didn’t. Not that Bucky even had time to ask him, as Thor bounded back to work just as quickly, helping his team to finish off the work for the day. 

“Fucking Christ,” Bucky muttered. 

“Yeah. Now imagine two of him, crowding into your space, telling you that you ‘blush so prettily’,” Becca said, and Bucky turned to gape at her. Becca nodded, her eyes on Val and Sif hauling sacks of something out of their van. 

“I missed a lot in the three hours I was gone,” Bucky said. 

“Mmhmm.” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t have a heart attack after that.”

“If I had, I’d finally be able to see your ghost friends, and wouldn’t that be something?” Becca said, looking over at him. 

Bucky deigned to not answer that, and also forcefully did not look up at where he knew Steve was standing. 

--

The next few days passed in a blur of planning and doing, and then Thor putting forth the idea to take down the more structurally dangerous sections first, including the destroyed wall and turret, and leaving the repairable sections as the latter projects. Bucky and Thor spent most of the afternoon that day with blueprints and designs, making notes and swapping ideas. Bucky hadn’t felt so fulfilled since the last time he’d had a debate with his study group, and he could tell that Thor, despite his easy-going personality and physically inclined job, had a mind that was as sharp as his siblings. 

The way he absent-mindedly reached out to scratch the kitten’s head, who Bucky named Alpine, was also just incredibly endearing. 

As cute as it was to have Alpine attached to him all day and night, Bucky began to notice that she was very reluctant to leave her sling. The first few times he had her out on the floor, so she could stretch her legs and he could toss little toys for her to bat around, she yowled as he gently pulled her out and set her on the floor. The next few times, she wriggled back against his chest, claws digging in. 

This time, however, she bit down on his hand.

“Ow! Baby girl, why?” Bucky moaned, while stroking her head as she tucked herself back in close to him, rumbling away. “You can’t live your life attached to me.” 

Alpine offered no argument, just kneaded her paws into his shoulder, and tucked her face into his neck, the purring getting even louder. Bucky sighed, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He didn’t really mind having her so close, and she was still recovering from her time outside, hence the constant sleeping, but he loved seeing her zoom around the lounge room, leaping at toys. She looked like a healthy, proper kitten. 

He wouldn’t push it today, he’d just keep her in there. The builders seemed to find it amusing, at least, that he carried his kitten around like a baby. 

Becca cooed as soon as Bucky stepped outside, and came over to kiss Alpine’s head too, getting a tiny chirp in response. “Good morning, my beautiful little niece,” she said, like she was replying to Alpine. 

“Morning to you too, Becs,” Bucky said, pretending to grouse, getting a stuck-out tongue in reply from Becca. 

“Come on, they’re starting to pull the wall apart.” Becca looped her arm in his, and pulled him over to the destroyed turret, where the builders had set up scaffolding and a skip, ready to start pulling apart the unsafe walls. Bucky couldn’t help but hope that Steve wasn’t watching. True, he didn’t fully understand Steve’s attachment to that tower, but when he had told the ghosts about the plan, Steve seemed more panicked than Bucky had ever seen him, and the others had been throwing him concerned looks. 

Bucky was stirred from his thoughts by the builders shouting out they were ready to start, and once the professors gave the heads up, bricks were being torn down, section by section, getting the tower ready to be rebuilt. Bucky was hit by the twin feelings of excitement, and regret. 

On a whim, he turned to look at the ramparts that faced the tower, and saw Steve, looking lost. He was staring hard at the tower, as if willing the builders to stop. Bucky’s stomach flipped, and he turned away, immediately snagging Becca’s wrist. “Hey, you got this? I gotta go back inside,” he said. 

Becca frowned, but didn’t question it, just waved him off. Bucky headed back inside, and climbed the stairs to the second floor, emerging out onto the same place Steve was. He hadn’t moved, and Bucky wondered if he’d even heard him come up. 

“Hey, Steve!” Bucky called out, and saw how Steve jumped. Wow, he’d really been in his own world. Bucky felt that same regret bubble in his gut. 

Steve turned around, and he had an easy smile on his face, but Bucky could see the firm, hard line of his shoulders. He was bracing himself. “Hey, Buck.”

“I just remembered I never showed you that movie I was telling you about. Wanna come watch it with me?” Bucky gestured at Alpine. “Don’t think all the noise and excitement out here is good for her.”

Steve’s eyes were suddenly filled with so much gratitude that it actually hurt to look at him. He was just...good. Goodness poured out of him like sunlight. “Yeah. Wouldn’t wanna upset her,” Steve said, and walked up to Bucky, his back fully on the scene in the courtyard. Bucky smiled at him, and led the way back downstairs, into the lounge room. 

“Okay, sweet girl, we’re gonna try this again, okay?” Bucky crooned, and then looked up at Steve, who had made a weird, strangled noise. He looked okay, but Bucky still frowned at him. What could a ghost choke on? Steve just coughed once, very awkwardly, and looked away. Bucky frowned harder, and looked back down to Alpine, and gently slid a hand under her belly, immediately trying to soothe her with apologies as she scrabbled to stay attached to him, yowling in betrayal. 

He managed to get her onto the ground, where she arched her back, flexed her claws, and let out the tiniest, most pathetic hiss Bucky had ever heard, and then was suddenly so distracted by a colourful ball of foil streamers that all her anger was forgotten, and she leaped on top of it, fell over, and then puffed herself up to look more intimidating on her second go around. 

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at her, and grinned at Steve as he did the same. “Ferocious beast,” he joked. 

Steve’s shoulders, no longer held tight, shook with laughter he tried to keep quiet. “Terrifying, truly,” he agreed. 

Bucky grinned again, and then went back to setting up the TV and console to play the movie, scrolling through the various streaming services till he found it. He settled on the couch, and was pleased when Steve did the same thing, though the couch didn’t sink beneath his weight. The question settled in Bucky’s mind, of whether he was actually sitting or just hovering over the couch, but it felt rude to ask. Instead he just settled back to watch Spirited Away, occasionally watching Steve’s reaction to it. 

Then it stopped being occasional, and Bucky was amazed by the sheer amount of reactions Steve had to everything. His eyes barely blinked or looked from the screen, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He looked utterly entranced. He gasped, grinned, and laughed like Hayao Miyazaki was paying him, which was maybe uncharitable of Bucky. Everything Steve did was soaked in sincerity, something Bucky found both beautiful and incredibly intimidating. 

Bucky slipped onto the floor to play with Alpine, as she started to get more interested in trying to attack Steve’s ankles, never mind that she passed straight through them every time, smiling as Steve gasped in horror at the No Face demon. Bucky was slightly happier than he already was not to be watching those particular scenes, ever since he was a kid they’d made him feel queasy. 

It wasn’t until he heard a soft noise, like someone’s breath catching, that Bucky looked up at the screen, to see where they were up to, and then he turned around to look at Steve, and then his own breath caught. Steve’s cheeks were lined with glittering tears, as he let them fall down his face. The ones that dripped from his chin disappeared into nothingness, but the ones that stayed were like diamonds. Steve was incandescently beautiful, and Bucky felt something in his chest burn. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay! She got away, she’s getting to the train!” Bucky said, scooping Alpine up and turning to face Steve, both utterly floored by Steve crying being beautiful, and desperate to soothe him so he stops. 

Steve laughed a little breathlessly, and swiped tears off his cheeks. “No, I know, I just- she’s just- she’s really brave. And selfless. She could’ve let the demon eat all those people and escaped earlier, but she wanted to set things right.” Steve ruffled the back of his head, setting his golden hair sticking out in all directions. “She- I...I don’t know. She’s good.”

You’re good, Bucky wanted to say. Instead, he just reached out, and put his hand next to where Steve’s was, so they were side by side on the couch cushions, just not-touching. Steve looked down, smiled softly, and moved his pinky slightly closer to Bucky’s. 

Alpine did her best to ruin the moment by wriggling out of Bucky’s arm, honing in on the moving finger, but Bucky managed to catch her, pulling his hand back to hold her up. “You are either the sleepiest kitten alive, or you are chaos. What is your deal?” 

Alpine yowled at him, and then wriggled around again. 

Steve chuckled, and then turned his attention back to the movie, though Bucky did not miss the way his hand flexed on the couch before he took it back. 

Bucky had to head back outside to check over some things, Becca gesturing wildly at an architectual plan with something like constipation on her face, so Bucky left Steve to watch the last twenty minutes of the film while he looked over some of the plans with Thor and his team. It seemed like the tower was a very different design than the plans would have them think, but Bucky was willing to trust Thor to make the right decisions, despite not having a more accurate plan. Loki seemed to agree with Bucky on that, but Hela made a series of noises that seemed to be designed to make Bucky doubt himself as much as possible. 

“As long as there will be no changes to the load bearing sections, and the team is safe, I think anything that has to be torn down is fine. We can rebuild. It’s kind of the whole point of pulling it down in the first place,” Bucky said, reaching up into the sling to stroke Alpine, trying to calm himself. 

Hela tilted her head, and for some reason Bucky wanted to cry. “You say that these plans follow the most accurate ones that you could find, and yet the whole layout of the inside of the tower is completely different. Perhaps this is merely an error of designs, or perhaps you’ve placed this building completely in the wrong error, and everything we do is going to be wrong.” Her eyes honed in on Bucky’s like spotting lasers. “Maybe you’ve put too much confidence in your very new qualifications. This is your first time putting it to use, is it not?” 

“Hela,” Thor said, his voice a warning. 

Hela shrugged. “I’m not going to spend months following a plan only to find out that the author got it entirely wrong. My time is worth more than that.” 

Silence fell following Hela’s words, even Thor seemed to be at a loss, despite the anger clear in his expression. 

Bucky, however, felt a disturbing calm settled over him, ice freezing in his veins. Sure, people could judge him. They could pick at his flaws, but coming for the degree he spent five years getting? His passion? His hard work, his dedication to the field he moved to a whole new continent for? No. Absolutely not. 

“I can tell you down to the bones of this place, down to the dust that falls from the stones what era they were built. I have spent weeks pulling every bit of information I could get my hands on about this place, including while I was recovering from a head injury. I made, redid, scrapped and perfected every single part of this plan, and was ready to commit to it without the aid of specialised builders.” Bucky stepped closer to Hela, and tipped his head up to look into her eyes. “I will remind you, Professor Friggirsdottir, that you weren’t the only university to make an offer, you just had the best one. If you find this to be far beneath you, then I would recommend you leave, before you waste both our time.”

Hela’s eyes bored into Bucky’s, her face disturbingly blank, and then after a long moment, she smiled. “Oh, good. He does have some backbone,” she said, and then turned on her heel and sauntered back over to the table with Bucky’s plans spread out across it. 

Bucky stroked Alpine’s fur, tickling under her chin, while the adrenaline burned the ice from his body, turning his cold confidence into outright pants-shitting fear. Oh, God, had he really just got up in Hela’s face like that? Had he really said those things? Oh, fuck, oh fuck, why would he do that, he is an idiot-

“You truly are a man of many talents, Bucky!” Thor boomed, grinning and laughing. Bucky stumbled as his huge hand slapped him on the back. “It takes truly a singular man to be able to stand against my sister!”

“Seriously, dude, that was insane. You’re a fucking madman,” Val added, with a shark-tooth grin. 

“You look like you’re going to pass out,” Becca said, laughing a little, but wrapping an arm around Bucky’s waist.

“Yeah, that or vomit. Why did I do that?” Bucky asked, his voice annoyingly weak and desperate. 

“She dared to doubt your hard work! I think it was valid,” Becca encouraged, squeezing him. 

“Valid? I basically told her to fuck off!” Bucky whined. 

“Eloquently, though,” Loki said, and Bucky was most bewildered by the approval in his eyes. Loki, the one person who spent most of his time with Hela, approved of Bucky scolding her? Yeah, this was some Twilight zone shit, and Bucky was going back to the bubble where it had just been him and Steve and Miyazaki films. 

“So- uh, if there’s nothing else no one needs...” Bucky said, half turning to go back inside.

“How quickly his confidence abandons him,” Sif said, grinning. 

“We will alert you should Hela need to be put in her place again,” Val said, and something in her look told Bucky she wasn’t joking. Bucky chose to ignore that out of self preservation, and with a final squeeze from Becca, retreated back inside. Steve was still on the couch, now watching the credits with genuine interest. He looked up when Bucky entered the room, and immediately stood up, worry on his face. 

“Buck? You okay?” Jesus. Bucky must look like he’d seen a ghost. 

“Yeah...yeah. Just yelled at the professor who is funding the entire build,” Bucky said, sounding weak and frail. Which he felt, but he didn’t want Steve to know that. 

Steve cracked a grin. “What did she do?” He asked, in a teacher-like tone, as if Bucky was dobbing on someone in kindergarten. 

Bucky felt energy surge back into his body as his hackles rose. “Hey! I don’t like that tone!” He said, and was annoyed at the whine in his tone. “I was defending myself and my work.” 

“Then sounds like you did the right thing,” Steve said simply, and his smile became more genuine. Bucky refused to let the blush grow further than just a dust of colour on his cheekbones. “I thought- you just looked really pale. I thought maybe one of the others had-” Steve’s voice turned worried, and maybe a little ashamed. Bucky wasn’t going to let that pass. 

“No! No, they’re- your team, they’re fine. I would even say that we’re friends now,” Bucky assured him, and Steve’s posture relaxed, though there was an element of tension in his shoulders still. “Stand down, soldier, promise that it was just shock that Hela didn’t immediately kill me.” 

Steve snorted a laugh, and that last bit of tension was gone. Bucky felt an empathetic squeeze of tension leave his own body. “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t let you stay dead long.”

“Promise?” Bucky teased. 

“Promise.” Steve sat back down on the couch, and grimaced as Alpine hurtled through his ankles again, making a beeline straight for them when Bucky put her down. “She really wants to fight my feet.”

“To be fair, your boots are bright red,” Bucky pointed out, and Steve looked up from Alpine now trying very hard to attack her own tail. “She’s probably like part bull or something.” 

“Ah, yes. I suppose that makes you a matador?” Steve’s smile was mostly contained in the corner of his lip, and Bucky was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to press his mouth to it. Not something particularly unusual, Bucky had always been drawn to wicked little smiles, like promises whispered in the dark, and Steve was tall and broad and beautiful in a way that was unearthly. Bucky would have to be walking around with his eyes closed not to notice. 

But Steve was a ghost. Bucky could no more kiss the corner of his pink mouth than hold his hand. To do any of that would hurt Steve, and getting attached to someone that only Bucky could see- Bucky blinked twice, and then turned his head away, trying to clear it. He wasn’t getting attached. There was nothing between him and Steve, and there never would be. Steve was dead, and Bucky was alive. No matter how much Bucky would’ve liked to ask Steve out, date him- No, no stop that thought right there!

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice lost the teasing edge, and when Bucky looked back, he looked concerned. Bucky probably looked gobsmacked and lost. Not his best look. 

“Sorry, away with the fairies.” Bucky slid over the arm of the couch to sit by Steve, leaving enough space so that he wouldn’t accidentally brush up against Steve. “You want to watch another Miyazaki film? Howl’s Moving Castle is an absolute classic.”

Steve peered at him, but didn’t pry. Instead, he nodded, and the smile was back. “If you don’t mind?” 

“Nah. Happy to keep you company and watch animated works of art.” Bucky grabbed the controller, and started looking up the movie, wincing when Alpine turned her attention from Steve’s boots to Bucky’s bare feet. 

“Ha. Now you know how it feels,” Steve said, sounding triumphant and smug. Bucky flipped him off, and started the movie. 

--

It took the builders a few days before the bulk of the tower was brought down, and unless he was needed, Bucky spent every one of those days watching Miyazaki films with Steve. Once Bucky ran out of the ones he knew, the last one he picked being Princess Mononoke, he got to watch ones he’d never seen before. It meant he spent less time being able to watch the awe in Steve’s eyes, but he did get to sit with him and talk about their favourite parts of whatever it was they had just watched, and Bucky supposed that was a good trade off. Steve’s eyes were bright and intelligent, his hands waving around as he debated his point. Everything about him was endearing, welcoming, and Bucky had to fight with everything he had to not take it as that. 

Late the next week, Bucky went into town with Alpine strapped to him, most to take her in for her next round of shots, but he grabbed a list from Becca for groceries, and checked if there was anything else he needed to get while he was in town. After that, he waved as discreetly as he could to the ghosts assembled on the ramparts (Dugan gave him a snappy little salute), and he drove down the mountains into town. 

Alpine, thankfully, didn’t argue too much when she was separated from Bucky’s neck, but the wailing she started once the vet was checking her over had Bucky apologising like she was a toddler having a tantrum. The vet laughed, and waved off his apologies, promising that Alpine was far tamer than their worst patient. After all of her shots and the long minutes of being prodded and measured, a much drowsier kitten was returned to the sling around Bucky’s neck, and Bucky breathed a sigh of relief that everything he was doing to help her was working. He picked up some more vet-grade fattening kitten food while there, even if the cost did make him wince, and then drove to the nearest supermarket. 

He was stopped a few times as people spotted the tiny kitten slumbering in the sling, and Bucky laughed as small children gently patted Alpine with huge, happy eyes. He waved off two little boys, the older one thanking him in English, Czech and German, before pulling his younger brother away. Bucky laughed, and then went back to comparing two different brands of tea. He couldn’t remember which one Becca had, and it was beginning to hurt his brain, trying to remember the colour of the tag on the teabags. 

“Awww, look! He has a kitten tucked up in there,” cooed a voice, speaking perfect Romanian. Bucky turned to look, and saw a man and a woman standing side by side, the man looking at Alpine with big hearts in his eyes. He had a shock of white hair, and a very concerning bruise around his neck, but those were the only things that set him apart from the woman at his side, their facial features so alike that they had to be twins. The woman had long brown hair that held a soft, messy wave, and seemed to be wearing layers of black and red clothes as if each layer had a chunk taken out of it that the next had to cover. She also had deep, shadowy eye makeup on, Bucky unable to tell if it was black or layers of different shades of grey. She was smiling at her brother, and at Alpine, who slept on, uncaring. 

“You can pat her, if you like? As long as you’re gentle, she’s had a rough morning,” Bucky said to the man, his Romanian not as fluid as his, but also not as rusty as Bucky thought. 

Unlike the other people who laughed at his joke, and then shuffled closer to stroke Alpine’s head, the man stilled, and his wide eyes turned shocked. The woman’s own face turned suspicious, her eyes narrowed. Bucky felt a cold pit of fear in his stomach, and opened his mouth to babble out an apology, when the man spoke.

“You can see me?” He asked, in an amazed, breathless voice. 

“Y-yes? Of course I can, you’re right...” Bucky trailed off, realising why the man was so shocked. The bruising around his neck- “Oh. You’re-”

“Dead! Yes! I am a ghost! You can see me!” The man went from shocked to ecstatic in seconds, and then was quick to round on his sister, and to Bucky’s intense surprise and shock, put his hands on her arms and shook her lightly. He was touching her, like he was solid, in a way that Bucky’s ghosts couldn’t. “Wanda! He can see me!”

“Yes, Pietro, he can,” Wanda giggled, and batted at her brother, who let her go and span back around to grin at Bucky again. 

“You can see ghosts!” Pietro crowed, and Bucky nearly lost his grip on his trolley, never mind his sanity, 

“Uhh...yeah. I can,” Bucky said, weakly, hearing how uncertain he sounded to his own ears. 

“We’ve not met another with the gift,” Wanda said, and it made Bucky uneasy, the way she seemed to see straight through him. 

“I, uh, technically died for a few minutes. And came back. Obviously,” Bucky said, and felt guilty for leaving Steve’s huge contribution to him not dying out. 

Wanda’s eyes widened then, and the suspicion seemed to bleed out of her body. “Oh, of course. I had thought perhaps you were born with it, like me, but you would’ve been able to tell that Pietro was passed.” 

“No, I- they just look like normal people to me.” Bucky winced. “I mean-”

“Alive people,” Pietro said, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and not seeming insulted at all.

“Yeah. Sorry,” Bucky said, trying again, but Pietro just grinned a little wider. 

“I assume Pietro is not your first ghost?” Wanda asked. 

“No, there’s a few who are at my...house. Castle.” Bucky felt suddenly awkward about describing the castle, even though to anyone else he was more than happy to talk their ears off about the amazing work he was doing restoring the place. 

“Oh, so they are like, old old ghosts!” Pietro said delightedly. 

“Uh. World War 2 veterans. They were- uh, yeah,” Bucky said, and Pietro’s eyebrows rose up into his hair. 

Wanda tilted her head. “They are the only ones there?” She sounded simultaneously curious, and like a scientist peering through a microscope. 

“Uh, the ones who I have met. At least, there might be others?” Bucky felt truly out of his element, and Pietro and Wanda seemed to pick up on that.

“Sorry, I haven’t met another in a long time who can see ghosts, though I should be aware that you have not been seeing them for long,” Wanda said, smiling apologetically, while Pietro seemed to slow the frantic bouncing to a more gentle rocking. 

“No, no, it’s okay, I just- I’ve been distracted of late, we’re rebuilding parts of the castle. Though I guess if there were others, they might’ve been hiding?” Bucky hadn’t really thought to find any others, distracted enough by the existence of the ones he knew already. 

“Maybe. Or perhaps they have been lucky and not be anchored to where they died,” Wanda said, and Bucky wondered why then had Steve and the others had been. 

Alpine chose that moment to wake up and start feebly yowling, and Bucky had to soothe her with a few pats so that she wouldn’t leap from his chest to the floor, never to be seen again in the supermarket. “Uh, I should probably get going. But it was amazing to meet you. Both of you. Uh, yeah,” Bucky said, and Wanda and Pietro smiled in unison. It was creepy and yet not, though he guessed the creepy part was most just from their shared features. 

“You too, uh-?” Pietro asked, his smile stuttering and Bucky realised he never told them his name. 

“Bucky! Bucky Barnes,” he said quickly, and held out his hand to Pietro, and then quickly corrected it to Wanda, feeling like an absolute dick, not that Pietro seemed to notice or care. Wanda took his hand and shook it warmly, her hand small in Bucky's in a way that made him want to curl around her and protect her.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky Barnes,” she said, and Bucky smiled, and squeezed her hand one more time, before the girl and her ghost brother drifted off, Pietro turning around to wave at Bucky, then shuddering as a woman with a trolley passed straight through him. 

Bucky turned around himself at that, uneasy from both Pietro’s shudders of pain, and the ring of bruises that were so stark on his neck. 

--

Work was wrapping up for the day, and the week, when Bucky returned home, Becca rushing out to help him haul groceries. Bucky was grateful for the help, but he was also very interested in the dark red blush that was high on his sister’s cheeks, and it seemed to get darker every time she peeked over at the builders. Bucky was careful not to press her while they were in earshot, but once they were in the kitchen, Alpine freed from her sling and falling over herself to get to her food bowl, Bucky rounded on his sister.

“Why do you look like you got sunburnt?” He asked, leering in at her, resting his crossed arms on the countertop. 

Becca spluttered a little, and ran a hand through her hair, which was sporting more regrowth than blonde these days. “Um. I’m- God.”

“God? That’s news to me,” Bucky teased, and Becca batted his arm. 

“Shut up. I mean, that- Well, while you were gone-” Becca stammered. 

“While we’re young, Miss Barnes!” Farnsworth called out, and Bucky heard a cacophony of voices shushing him. Bucky fought back a laugh. 

“While you were out, they all stopped for lunch and- uh. Jesus. Wow.” Becca’s look, Bucky realised, was not panic or worry or anxiety, but like someone who had been told they had both won the lottery, and that unicorns were real. She looked like she thought she was dreaming. “So, Sif and Val- you know-”

“Fucking Christ alive and all his motherfucking cohorts-” Morita’s voice now, and again, loud shushing accompanying them. There was an added, quiet comment from Peggy, that if he ‘didn’t shut up we’ll miss it!’

“Yes, I know Sif and Val, Becs, what about them?” Bucky urged, mentally beginning to agree with the ghosts. 

“Okay, so they’re married. To each other. As in they’re wives-”

“Oh my god, Becs, I gathered, please keep going,” Bucky said, and copped another whack to the arm from his sister. 

“Shhh! Okay, so, they stopped for lunch and I went ‘round with tea and coffee, like usual, and they- holy fuck, Bucky, they-” Becca cut herself off, eyes wide, hands waving wildly. She shrugged, and made several mouth gaping gasps that made her look very much like a fish. 

Bucky waited her out, waving a hand to get her to continue, and then rolled his eyes when she just widened her eyes further. “They what, Becca!?” 

“They asked me out!” Becca said, the words bursting from her at just a touch too loud. Loud enough, at least, that Booker let out a shocked bark and leapt up from his bed under the table, racing at Becca. 

Bucky frowned. “They asked you out? Both of them?” 

“Not like what you’re thinking! Not separately! Bucky, they both want to take me on a date, together. Like...at the same time,” Becca said, and her hands flew out to grip Bucky’s arms, shaking him a little. 

Bucky’s mouth dropped open. “Holy shit, Becs!” He said, starting to grin stupidly at his sister. “Holy fuck, both of them?” 

“Both of them. At once. Dating me. Holy fucking shit, I swear to god, I thought I had died,” Becca said, and the dreamy tone was back in her voice. 

“Holy shit! Look at you, dating not one, but two Norse goddesses!” Bucky said, laughing a little when Becca shook him again. 

“I know! I know, holy fuck, I really have to fucking get my hair redone now, they want to take me out tomorrow night, and of course I haven’t rebleached my hair or anything in weeks-” Becca started to ramble, and Bucky laughed as he went to try and calm her down, but Peggy’s sudden appearance in the doorway made him pause. 

Rather than looking like someone who had just been eavesdropping, she looked panicked, and a little unsure. “They found it,” she said. It was all she said, her eyes wide. 

“Who found what, Peggy?” Bucky asked, and Becca let him go to turn around herself, like she could see her too. 

Then, some kind of shout sounded from outside, and Bucky and Becca immediately broke into a run, heading for the courtyard, Booker barking at their heels. 

Outside, there was some kind of commotion around the base of the tower, the builders sounding jovial. Bucky saw Hela smile in a genuine, not terrifyingly intimidating way, and for some reason that felt scarier. Becca raced forward, to join the group, but Bucky was stopped by the sight of Steve, standing a ways back, looking frozen. His face looked resigned, his eyes wide and empty. 

“Steve? Steve, you okay?” Bucky asked, and Steve didn’t answer. He didn’t even turn to face him. “Steve, talk to me. What have they-” He was cut off by yet another shout, but this time from Becca. 

“Bucky! You gotta come see this!” She sounded excited, so with a last worried glance at Steve, Bucky left to go see what the fuss was about. 

And then Thor grinned at him, and hefted something large, circular, and chipped with old, old paint. 

Even without the star in the centre, it was recognisable as the shield. 

Chapter Text

It was possibly the most frantic half an hour of Bucky’s life. In what felt like thirty seconds, they’d taken the shield inside, Hela and Loki already on the phone to two different historians, while Thor pulled out some kind of weird microscope thing, like he could see right through to what the shield was made of with it, and the builders had hurriedly packed up as the sun began to dim, the excitement around finding the shield swallowing up more time than they really had. Bucky, on the other hand, had lost track of Steve at some point, and had been half listening to Hela and Loki’s conversations, while he tried to search him out. The dead, flat look in his eyes had scared Bucky something fierce, and he either had to find him, or get assurance from the ghosts that he was okay before he would stop.

Hela said a crisp goodbye into her phone, and stowed it in her pocket, before turning to Bucky, all business. Bucky forced himself to pay attention to her and only her, at least for the moment. “We have a few contacts that can get a hold of historians and some other professionals who specialise in World War 2. We won’t be able to handle anything until Monday, however, so the shield will have to stay here. Protected, of course, We’ll provide some storage for it, we won’t have it getting damaged before someone can ensure it’s validity.”

“It’s meant to be indestructible,” Bucky said, but felt rather like a child saying that. He knew that it would have to be protected, he’d been on dig sites himself. Even the strongest relics dug up still had to be handled with care.

“There’s also a rather more dire matter,” Loki said, hanging up his own phone call. “There is a chance, then, that there is a body in the tower.”

Bucky knew that there probably was. In fact, throw out the probably. There was definitely a body in there somewhere. “What does that mean for the rebuild?” He asked.

“It means that we will have to have the police and coroner come and exhume it. And any others. Your sister tells us that the Commandos of which your Captain America was one disappeared in 1945. It would not be a difficult leap to say that we are mostly likely finding more than one body,” Loki said. He sounded confident of the fact, and annoyed, like it wasn’t worth his time.

“Well. Okay. When would that happen?” Bucky asked. Hela, Loki and Bucky worked out a timeline that would not affect the rebuild too much, while also making sure that they would not be breaking any laws accidentally. Bucky also made note to look up what the procedure actually was of reporting decades-old corpses. After that, the sun had well and truly set, but Hela and Loki waved off offers to stay, and once they pulled Thor away from his close, enthusiastic inspection of the shield, they left too.

Leaving Bucky standing in the kitchen, with Captain America’s shield on the table.

He felt exhausted enough by the situation that he wanted to sit down, but it felt oddly...insulting, to do so with the shield. Like the shield was some kind of holy relic that he had to stand in front of. Or kneel.

“I suppose it must be strange.” Bucky whirled around at the sound of Peggy’s voice, and found her looking sadly at the shield. “You have a kind of proof that we are who we look like.”

“I didn’t really have any reason to doubt,” Bucky said.

“It’s a lot to take in. We don’t mind, I assure you,” Peggy replied, meeting his eyes to give him a quick, tired smile, before turning her gaze back to the shield.

“Where are the others?” Bucky asked, and Peggy’s shoulders lowered even further. She closed her eyes.

“They’re standing vigil. The tower...it’s not quite torn apart, but there’s enough holes that he- well. I wouldn’t go outside tonight, if you can help it,” Peggy said, her arms going around herself.

Bucky looked out the door, like he could see straight through to the formerly-destroyed tower. Where he met Steve for the first time, officially. He remembered Peggy and Dernier taking him out, and hearing the echo of a scream behind him.

“He- He’s in there? In pain?” Bucky asked, a sick feeling swooping through his stomach.

“Bucky-” Peggy started, but Bucky turned away, ready to run out to the tower, but realising that there was almost definitely nothing he could do.

“Can’t you- Can’t you get him out?” Bucky asked, hands balling at his sides, angry at his own impotence.

“I doubt he would let us,” Peggy said, and Bucky looked to her in shock. Her eyes were impossibly even sadder. “We thought once, that maybe we could offer a hand, but it is like we aren’t there to him. Not when he’s like this.”

“Like what?” Bucky asked, ice freezing his veins. He wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to know the answer.

Peggy didn’t answer for a long moment, and then bit her lip lightly. “At first, we thought he would be down there for as long as it took, but it seems like he doesn’t stay down there for longer than a week. Sometimes it’s only a few hours.”

“What do you mean, as long as it took?” Bucky’s voice is barely above a whisper, and he could feel his hands tremble with how hard he squeezed them tight.

Peggy clutched herself, like she was trying to keep herself upright, when all she wanted was to crumble. “He didn’t die when the shell hit the tower. He was just...trapped under there. He couldn’t get out, and we were dead minutes after. It- He-” Peggy took a breath, and loosened her hands. “Steve starved to death. We watched over him, tried to soothe him, but he couldn’t hear us, and it took weeks. Eventually he was weak enough that his heart gave out.”

Bucky’s ears rang with a long, piercing note. He couldn’t move. He remembered Steve, glimmering in the tower, jerking strangely as he was pulled down- down to where he had lain, trapped, dying in slow motion. Unable to hear his friends, his body not strong enough to escape- Was he relieved when he finally died? When he could finally rest?

“Wait,” Bucky said, a thought seizing him, making everything too sharp and harsh. There was ice in his stomach, like needles. “He’s- he’s down there, reliving that?”

Peggy nodded.

Bucky felt the first sting of tears. “Why?” He gasped.

Peggy turned away, looking out, towards the tower. “We don’t know, but I- I fear he is punishing himself.”

“Punishing himself?” Bucky asked, horrified. “For what?”

“Nothing that he could be feasibly blamed for. Steve Rogers is a martyr complex and Catholic guilt given human form. I had hoped- Well. I had hoped that with the tower gone, he might break the cycle.” Peggy shrugged one shoulder. “I suppose the pull is too strong.” She turned to give Bucky a small sad smile. “I’m going to go join the others. I-” She made a few attempts at what might’ve been a ‘good night’, and then just shook her head, smiled, and left.

Bucky dragged a chair out from the dining table, slumped into it, and put his head in his hands.

--

Becca gave him concerned looks as they cooked dinner together, but didn’t say anything until they were tucked up on the sofa, something mindless playing on the TV, Booker and Alpine playing on the floor. Well, Alpine was playing, Booker just gently booped her with his nose every time she tried to take a clumsy swipe at him.

Bucky pulled his attention from stirring his dinner around in circles when Becca poked him with her foot. “Hey. You all right?” She sounded concerned, and Bucky could guess that was because he looked about as good as he felt. The feeling of being kicked in the stomach hadn’t abated since Peggy had left, and Bucky hadn’t dared to look outside, let alone step out.

“It’s, uh, a ghost thing,” Bucky said. Becca’s face twisted into a frown, but she poked him again. “After...after they found the shield, Steve kinda...froze up. And then he disappeared.”

“What? Like forever?” Becca sat bolt upright, something spilling out of the bowl onto her sweatpants. She didn’t even notice, her eyes boring into Bucky. Bucky was amazed, that Becca could care for someone so much, when she couldn’t even see him.

“No, but he-” Bucky broke off, and shoved his food around again. “Peggy told me earlier, how he died.”

Becca asked Bucky to tell her. Bucky did. And then the two of them sat in silence for a long moment.

“And now he’s...in the tower. Reliving it,” Becca said. Bucky nodded. Another long silence, that even the animals seemed to pick up on, Alpine sitting on Bucky’s foot, Booker nosing into her fur. “He’s...god, Buck.”

“Yeah. I don’t know what to do,” Bucky said, and felt like an idiot. He’s not going to help, he can’t. There’s nothing anyone, not even the ghosts could do.

“I’ll stay home with you. And then we can call off the builders next week until Steve is back,” Becca said, and Bucky felt her hand wrap around his elbow, like she wanted to prop him up.

“What?” Bucky turned to look at her, frowning hard. “No, you have a date! You have a date with two unbelievably hot women, don’t turn that down to watch me mope.”

“But- Bucky,” Becca started, and Bucky put his bowl to the side so he could turn and face Becca.

“Rebecca Barnes, if you do not go and be romanced by those two absolutely mind-blowingly beautiful women, I will never forgive you,” he said, pointing a finger very firmly in her face, and managing a smile when she giggled.

“I don’t wanna leave you here alone and sad!” Becca said, whining a little, but at least Bucky could hear the slight tease in it.

“Hey, it’s just...I’m just worried. And I wish I could help. But I can’t, so instead, I am going to bake and play too many video games and...call a coroner about exhuming decades old skeletons,” Bucky said, with an affected shudder, that sent Alpine spilling off his foot and onto Booker, Alpine yowling in betrayal.

“What a wild weekend,” Becca said, and rubbed his upper arm. “You’re sure you don’t want company?”

Booker chose that moment to tuck his nose into Alpine’s belly, and Alpine let out the loudest, shrillest, angriest kitten meow that Bucky had ever heard, and then promptly began purring like a racecar.

“I think I have enough company,” Bucky said, raising his eyebrows at his kitten. Becca giggled again.

“All right. But I’m a phone call away, and I’ll be back Sunday. Promise,” she said, and Bucky leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

“Deal.” He grabbed his bowl and returned to eating, even though he had no appetite. “Have you figured out what you’re wearing yet?”

The resounding groan from Becca told him that no, she hadn’t, and once they were done eating, bowls in the sink, Bucky and Becca ransacked both their wardrobes for the perfect outfit. Becca modelled the top three, and pulled some poses that had Bucky nearly falling off the bed laughing. Becca managed to pout and pull a Blue Steel at the same time, and that just made Bucky laugh harder.

Eventually, Becca settled on a button up shirt of Bucky’s, covered in sunflowers, and a denim skirt that was just about knee length. They went back and forth on whether to wear heels or boots, and eventually landed on Becca’s platform Doc Martins as a compromise.

“My hair is going to bug me all night,” Becca groused, running her fingers through the patchy, grown out dye job. “I should’ve gotten bleach and redone it ages ago, what was I thinking?”

“I mean, the half and half thing is a look, isn’t it?” Bucky mused, folding their clothes back up and gathering his in his arms.

“Ombre is, this definitely isn’t. This is ‘girl who has not touched her hair in months’,” Becca said, grimacing at her reflection. “Maybe I’ll just pin it up, get all the shitty blonde bits hidden.”

“That’ll look really nice, Becs,” Bucky said, coming up behind her to squeeze an arm around her waist. “But also keep in mind they asked you out while you were in your leggings and that shirt of dad’s you stole about three years ago.”

Becca’s smile turned all dreamy, and Bucky rolled his eyes, despite the smile on his face. “They did, didn’t they?”

Bucky flicked her ear, earning a scowl and a shove, and then squeezed her again. “They did. And you’re going to look great whether they can see your terribly patchy hair or not.”

Becca groaned, and kicked at his ankle, Bucky just managing to dodge. “That is the opposite of helping, James Buchanan!”

“Hey! I gave you my favourite shirt! I get to rib you in return!” Bucky cajoled, and dodged again as Becca’s arm flung out to whack him.

“You’re an asshole!” Becca called as Bucky fled back downstairs, laughing. “Don’t you dare eat the last of the ice cream! I’ll be back down in like twenty minutes!”

As Bucky put his clothes away, he realised that Becca hadn’t stopped talking and posing and making him laugh the whole time he was up there, and that she had done that to keep his mind off the tower, and Steve. He smiled to himself, smoothing out the shirt he was holding with his thumbs. He was so lucky to have a sister like her.

He was still absolutely going to eat the last of the ice cream, though.

--

Bucky stayed inside the whole of the next day, occasionally going to the front door, putting his hand on the handle, just to maybe pop his head out and ask the ghosts how things were. Then he would hear something, and maybe it was just a noise, or maybe it was what it sounded like, and Bucky backed away, not wanting to hear the sounds of Steve in pain, Steve dying-

He felt like a coward. He still couldn’t go outside.

It was strange to move around the house without the ghosts, too. It was like things before, when he couldn’t see them, when the house was empty. The difference was, now that he did know, he wanted them back. He missed them, missed having someone around for company all the time. It would’ve been good to have someone to crack jokes while he did the dishes, or played with Alpine. He loaded up something to watch, and the next thing on his list was a Studio Ghibli film that he hadn’t seen, that he was going to watch with Steve. He was quick to close the app, and then turn the TV off all together.

He ended up stretched out on the couch around 3, Alpine on his chest. He was gently drumming his fingers on his chest, and she tried her hardest to bat at them without falling.

Becca’s face loomed over him suddenly, and Bucky guessed that being used to the ghosts being around is the only reason he didn’t jump when she did. “Hello. I like your eyeshadow,” he said. It was true, Becca had dusted on some sparkly yellow shadow, and had even managed two very even perfect cat-eyes with her eyeliner.

“You look like you’ve been dumped,” she deadpanned, and then gave Alpine two tiny kisses on her head, and she tried to bat Becca away.

“You’ve left lipstick on my cat,” Bucky groused, rubbing the deep red marks off Alpine’s white fur.

“You’re going to do something tonight, right? Like message your friends in London? Or call dad? Literally anything other than mope on the couch?” Becca, despite her words, her tone was worried.

Bucky sighed, and sat up, careful to cup Alpine so she didn’t go spilling onto the floor. “Becca, I’m fine. Really. It’s just been too quiet in here today.”

Becca raised an eyebrow, but didn’t push him. She pulled out her phone to check the time instead, and absent-mindedly patted Alpine’s head. “Sif and Val will be here in 20,” she told him.

“Yay!” Bucky said, and lifted one of Alpine’s paws to wave around, much to her yowled dismay.

“So, you’ll have to feed Booker.” Bucky nodded. “And let him out to pee later.” Bucky paused, and let Alpine’s paw go.

“Oh.”

Becca gripped his shoulder. “Really, I can just-”

“They’re driving up the mountain! Becca,” Bucky said, exasperated.

“Yeah, but you look like you’d rather swallow nails-” Becca said, and stroked his collarbone gently, but Bucky batted her away.

“I am fine. And Peggy said this isn’t the first time this has happened, and he could be fine by tonight. I’ll let Booker out into the garden out the back,” Bucky said, and Becca looked somehow even less convinced by that. Bucky, in defiance, turned the TV on, and grabbed the nearest controller to wake the console up. “I’m good, Becs. I’ve got the animals, you’re gonna fill me in about how the date goes, and especially how athletic the sex is-”

“Oh my god, shut up!” Becca shouted, and Bucky grinned, though inside he was just relieved that his diversion had worked, sending his sister practically running from the room, sending him dirty looks. Bucky kept up his grin until Becca was out of sight, and then slumped back into the couch, cuddling Alpine closer.

Becca being so concerned for him was something of a sign for Bucky. He felt more than sympathy for the ghosts, now. They were his friends. He was friends with them, and so their happiness was all wrapped up in his. Not to even mention how much more he felt for Steve-

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop that train of thought from going any further. Even if it was the truth, he didn’t want to give it any weight.

Alpine mewed, and Bucky felt a raspy tongue in the cleft of his chin. He laughed, and opened his eyes to see the kitten determinedly grooming his stubble. “Aw, baby. Are you getting me clean?” Alpine started purring, and he couldn’t help but lift her up to press a kiss of his own between her ears. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

--

Bucky wolf whistled when Becca ducked her head into the kitchen to let him know that her dates had arrived, and laughed at the finger his bright-red-blushing sister flipped at him. He followed her to the door, watching as she practically ran across the courtyard to where Sif and Val were waiting, and couldn’t help the swell of happiness when they leaned over either side of Becca to kiss her cheeks. Becca deserved nothing less, after how hard she had worked.

Bucky retreated back inside, and padded back to the kitchen to keep cooking his own dinner, a pasta bake that would keep him going the whole weekend, so that Becca wouldn’t worry he had starved to death. It wasn’t long until he had Alpine and Booker winding around his ankles and making noises.

“You guys are making me think you’re hungry,” he teased them, and got a bark from Booker, and Alpine jumping onto his leg, claws digging right past the thin fabric of his leggings. “Ow,” he winced, but let her clamber her way all the way up to his shoulder, just happy that she had the energy and the ability to do normal kitten things, like cause him pain.

Once the pasta bake was in the oven, timer set, Bucky fed the two monsters, both of them practically inhaling the food. Booker dutifully sat down to wait until Alpine finished hers, and then both of them trotted out, no doubt heading for the heater in the living room, to sleep off their dinner. Bucky rolled his eyes, but couldn’t fault them. He’d no doubt do the same thing.

He took Booker outside, once he’d had his own dinner, packed up the leftovers and cleaned, and in a moment of forgetfulness, let him out the front, his heart stopping in his chest when his eyes fell on the tower, illuminated in the soft light of the moon. “Books-” Bucky called out, but Booker just kept sniffing around, searching no doubt for the one spot he hadn’t peed on yet.

The part that frightened Bucky the most, was how silent the courtyard was. Bucky had expected to hear something, considering that he’d heard something during the day, but the only thing he could hear was the wind, and Booker’s nails on the stone. He couldn’t see any of the ghosts either, making him panic for one strange moment that Becca had been right originally, and he had been hallucinating.

Booker barked once, startling him out of his momentary frozen horror, and he looked down to see the dog wagging his tail, business clearly done. The wind picked up, and Bucky shivered as it passed through his thin, worn sweater. “Yeah, bud. Let’s go back inside,” he said, and opened the door to let Booker in.

Bucky spared one last look at the tower, before he walked inside himself.

--

Sunlight warming Bucky’s face woke him, and he stretched out in their bed, rolling over to bury his face, smiling when he could smell Steve on the pillow beside him. Clearly he’d already gotten up before him, and Bucky felt a surge of fondness for his early-riser.

With a sigh, he pushed himself up, letting a yawn crack his jaw as the covers fell off him, and blinked his eyes open to their room, the window facing the bed just cracked enough to let the familiar sounds of traffic filter into the room. Bucky slowly pushed himself off the side of the bed, his feet hitting the cold stone of the floor. He could smell something cooking, so he padded out of the room and down the hall, into the kitchen. In the corner was that old stove Bucky had spent so long scrubbing, the cupboards he had cleaned out, the dining table he and Becca had taken from London apartment to mountain castle.

And in front of that stove, in white shirt and blue jeans, golden hair tousled with sleep, Steve was, stood with his back to Bucky, focused on whatever was in the pan that Bucky could smell. Yawning again, he padded across the kitchen, smiling at the sounds of New York, and he wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades.

He felt Steve’s laugh more than he heard it. “Morning, sleeping beauty,” Steve said, voice teasing, but more importantly, happy.

“Mmmph,” Bucky replied, and slipped a hand under Steve’s shirt, feeling the warmth of his stomach. He grinned when he felt Steve shiver, and pressed another kiss, this time to his neck.

“You trying to get me to burn breakfast?” Steve asked, his voice husky, and Bucky felt like he’d already won.

“Maybe I’m hungry for something else,” Bucky replied, and felt Steve shiver again, before he had to step back to let Steve turn in his arms.

“Well, in that case,” Steve said, and Bucky looked up-

-and immediately flinched back away from him with a shout.

“Buck? What’s wrong?” Steve asked, his blue eyes concerned, but all Bucky could see was the way his skin was stretched, pale and waxy, over his skull. He was gaunt, empty, Bucky could see the way his clothes hung off him, his arms like winter-pale twigs- He tried to reach out for Bucky, but Bucky stumbled back, and then he tripped over, falling, Steve’s skeletal fingers reaching out for him-

--

Bucky woke with a start, gasping in breath as he sat up on the couch. The TV was on, on a much later episode of a show than Bucky was up to, and Bucky could recognise the sounds of the traffic as the ones he heard in his dream. He let out a gust of breath, and rubbed his hands on his face, trying to scrub out the memories of the dream. He looked up, trying to find his phone, and saw Alpine and Booker curled up on the same pet bed, closest to the heater. He smiled at that, and then found his phone on the floor beside the couch, and reached down to grab it, turning the screen on to see the time.

He let out an annoyed sigh, seeing it was two in the morning, and rubbed at his face again. He wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep for a while, he could tell already, but he knew he’d be slightly closer if he retreated to his bed. He got up, pocketed his phone, and went around turning off everything but the heater, not wanting to make the room cold for the sleeping animals, and headed back to his room, plugging in his phone to charge, and then changing into his pyjamas and slipping under the covers of his bed.

He curled up on his side, and was about to turn over to grab his phone, when he remembered how he woke in his dream, and rolled over into the other pillow. Steve’s pillow. In the dream it had smelled like him, but Bucky didn’t know what Steve smelled like, or rather had smelled like. He still couldn’t stop himself from wriggling over to the other side of the bed, to tuck his nose into the other pillow.

It smelled like the washing powder they used. Bucky tried not to feel disappointed, but that, mixed with the lingering warmth in his gut, remembering the way he had tucked himself against Steve, the feel of his skin- The worst part, the absolute worst part, was even though the dream had ended horribly, with the nightmarish version of Steve looming over Bucky, Bucky could remember with such clarity and want the way Steve had shivered in his arms, the roughness of his voice. It was all too easy to concentrate on that, on the want, the longing, and let his hand slip into his pants, and circle around his interested dick. Maybe the lingering horror of the dream’s ending made adrenaline fire through him enough that he could not help but stroke along his length, breathing out roughly into the pillow.

It felt too good, too good to think of his hands roaming across warm skin, firm muscles, tucking his nose into golden hair and feeling the weight of a body against his own. Not just any body, but-

“Steve-” Bucky moaned, choking on a breath as his thumb grazed the vein on his cock. Even his name felt right to say, as his dick fattened under his firm pulls, and as much as Bucky forced himself to try and think of the pleasure and nothing but, it was too easy to replace memories of other people under him with Steve, imagining the way his skin would feel, the way Bucky would make him arch, maybe their hands would entwine desperately, or maybe Steve would have to clench his fists into the sheets, tearing holes in them.

Bucky rolled onto his back, shoved his pyjama pants down, and shoved aside any other thoughts. He could feel guilty or gross or whatever after, but right now, in this moment, he was in that bedroom filled with sunlight, coiled with Steve, who was flesh and blood and alive under his hands. Bucky let out a long moan, enjoying the way it echoed back to him, distorted, like he could pretend it was someone else. Could pretend it was someone else’s hand, or that he was bringing someone else closer and closer to the edge, watching the way their body responded to him, being able to pull sounds of ecstasy from Steve.

“Fuck- Steve,” Bucky panted, and squeezed himself tighter, feeling the way his dick twitched in his hand.

“Bucky? Are you-” said Steve’s voice, and immediately Bucky’s body turned cold. His hand stopped, and he squeezed his eyes shut. There’s...there’s no way- “I- God, I’m sorry, I thought you were- I thought- I should-”

Bucky gave it a good long moment before he opened his eyes, and saw his room empty, but there was no mistaking that voice. Bucky sat up, and shoved his face into his hands, feeling shame bubble in his gut. Fuck, not only had someone heard him, but he’d been caught by the one person he definitely would never have expected to-

Wait.

Steve?

“Steve?” Bucky called out, already scrambling out of bed, pulling his pants back over his still-interested dick (though it had slightly wilted), and ripped his door open, to find Steve, shoulders up around his ears, wringing his hands, looking more embarrassed than even Bucky felt. “Steve? Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“Buck- I’m so sorry, I thought you’d hurt yourself-” Steve started but Bucky cut him off.

“Are you okay? Peggy said-” Bucky’s voice faltered, and Steve looked away, somehow looking more ashamed. “Peggy told me about- Are you? Back?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Seeing the shield just made me...well. It was a shock,” Steve said. He looked back to Bucky, and offered a small, rueful smile. “I’m sorry that Peg told you. I’m sure it wasn’t a nice thing to hear.”

“You’re apologising...for dying?” Bucky asked, incredulously. Steve frowned, and then laughed.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am?” He said, and his smile was a little wider.

“Don’t do that,” Bucky said.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Yes, sir,” he joked, and then his eyes widened in shock, and the embarrassment was back on his face, and he turned back away. “I- I should...leave you to it?”

Bucky, so relieved to see Steve again, not have to force himself to think about anything but him screaming in pain in a half ruined tower, suddenly remembered exactly what he had been doing before realising that Steve was back and okay. “Oh. Uh. Right. That. Listen-” He started.

“No, please, I should’ve left it alone-” Steve interrupted.

“Well, I mean, I said your name, I would’ve been surprised too-” Bucky said, feeling a blush creep along his face.

“Yeah, well, your sister is out, you would take advantage of being alone-”

“It wasn’t that-” Bucky said, and then cut himself off as dream-Steve appeared back in the forefront of his mind, soft and hazy and warm.

Steve waited a moment, and then seemed to steel himself, and turned a little more back towards Bucky. “What...was it, then?” He asked, his voice barely more than a breath, and Bucky let out a shaky sigh.

“I...had a dream. About you,” he admitted.

“What kind of dream?” Steve asked, and stepped closer. They’d never been this close before, both of them keeping their distance in case Bucky accidentally brushed through him. In case Bucky hurt him.

“A nightmare,” Bucky said, and saw confusion in Steve’s eyes, even though he didn’t step back. “It was everything I wanted, and then reality set in.”

“What...do you want?” Steve asked, and his voice was so quiet that Bucky could imagine the wind had spoken for him.

“You,” Bucky said, unable to stop the word. He was the only living person in the house, and Steve was there, vibrant and beautiful. It was the truth, for as much as it cost him to say. “I want you.”

Steve’s eyes fluttered shut, those dark lashes fanning along pale skin, making Bucky’s fingers burn with the need to touch, even as he told himself he never could. “I- I want-” Steve said, the words sounding like they hurt, like they were a weight he needed gone.

“Come to bed with me,” Bucky asked. “Tell me what you want.” He took a step backwards, back into his room, and Steve followed, like there was a tether between them that he was helpless against. “Lie down with me.”

“Yes,” Steve said, and for every step Bucky took, Steve took one too, until Bucky was lying on his bed, on his side, Steve lying on the other side, facing him, head on the very pillow Bucky had rolled onto in his dream. There was a long quiet moment, where they looked at each other, and Bucky wished he could see under Steve’s costume, wished that he could peel it away and watch as his chest heaved with breath. “Are- are you going to-” Steve stammered, and Bucky saw his hand twitch towards Bucky.

“What do you want me to do?” Bucky whispered, and Steve’s eyes fluttered shut again, and Bucky’s heart thudded as he saw Steve shiver.

“Touch yourself. Please,” Steve said, his voice throaty and tinged with desperation.

Bucky slipped his hand back into his pants, and slowly tugged them down, watching Steve’s eyes open, and stare at each part of his skin that was revealed. The way the black of his pupils swallowed that bright blue was enough to make Bucky dizzy. “What else?” Bucky asked, stroking his cock as he pulled his pants down over it.

“Show me. Let me see, please,” Steve said, and Bucky had to suck in a desperate breath of his own as his length twitched in his hand. “I-” Steve’s hand slid over the bed, the covers not moving as he did.

“It should be your hand,” Bucky said, and saw Steve’s breath stutter, his throat working through a swallow.

“Yes,” he breathed, and Bucky reached out his right hand to rest beside Steve’s, enough that they were only just not-touching. “God, Bucky-”

Bucky closed his eyes and bit back a moan, feeling the desperation in Steve’s tone like fingers on his spine. He tightened his hand around the base of his cock, feeling like a teenager, the way he felt ready to burst. “What next?” He murmured, opening his eyes, feeling his stomach seize with want. Steve’s pupils had swallowed the colour of his eyes, and he looked gone.

“I- You would-” Steve said, and his hand twitched towards Bucky’s. “You’d have me on my back,” he said, and he looked like admitting that cost him something, but Bucky had to squeeze down on his dick again, letting a guttural noise escape his mouth. Bucky was somewhat ashamed himself, that he had assumed Steve would take control, that he would push Bucky down. Everything Steve had done since crossing the threshold was because of Bucky’s urging.

“I would,” Bucky agreed, and Steve’s eyes flicked down to where Bucky slowly started stroking along his length again. “I’d settled between your legs, those strong thighs,” he said, and Steve’s chest seemed to stutter, struggling to breathe although he didn’t need to. “God, your legs, Steve. Even in those loose fucking pants I can tell.” Steve’s hand flexed, and Bucky watched as Steve shifted his legs apart, just a little. “You’d have to control yourself, hold them apart for me, while I took my time.”

“Bucky-” Steve said, and his voice was so close to a whine that Bucky had to close his eyes, savour it. He could feel the pull in his gut, of something careening too close, and he couldn’t slow down.

“I wouldn’t wanna hurt you, so I would open you up slow-” Bucky waited until Steve’s eyes opened again, wanting to crow in victory with how he seemed to suck in a hard breath, Bucky’s words enough to make him overwhelmed. “-and maybe I’d have to stop here and there to taste you.”

“Buck-” Steve panted, and Bucky let his finger move just a little closer to Steve’s.

“When I finally do get inside you, Steve, I would keep you on your back. I wanna look at you. I wanna watch you fall apart, wanna see your face and your eyes-” Bucky said, his words started to trip over themselves as he sped his hand up.

“Yes, Bucky-” Steve said, and the way he looked at Bucky, with his eyes wild and wanting, that was enough. Bucky turned his head into his pillow to let out a groan, and fisted his cock through an orgasm that shook through him like an earthquake. He kept his eyes closed tight, wanting to hang onto the images that he had described for them both, as his cock spurted a last few droplets. Once the feeling became more overwhelming than pleasant, Bucky let his hand drop, and turned his head back to Steve to take in a few deep breaths, before opening his eyes.

Steve’s eyes had lost their wild edge, and instead he looked devastated. Bucky swallowed nervously, doubt starting to creep in, that perhaps this was a dumber idea than he had considered. “Uh. Hi,” he offered, feeling a little stupid.

“I- I can go,” Steve offered, and he sounded so sad that Bucky was suddenly furious that he couldn’t hug him.

“I don’t want you to,” he said quickly, and Steve looked surprised.

“This was-” he started, and Bucky wouldn’t let him finish that sentence.

“I wanted to. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea, but I’m not going to pretend I don’t find you completely stunning,” Bucky said, and smiled at the way Steve blushed. “If things were different...” Bucky started, and then stopped. There weren’t any happy ways that sentence would end.

Steve’s hand moved towards Bucky’s face, as if he wanted to brush the hair out of his eyes. Bucky wished he could. “Even if this is all I get, I couldn’t be more grateful to know you, Bucky,” he murmured, and Bucky felt the sting of tears in his eyes. He brushed them away quickly with his clean hand, laughing a little wetly.

“I’m gonna- I’m gonna get cleaned up. You- will you stay?” Bucky asked, and Steve’s surprise was again more upsetting to Bucky than he was prepared for.

“You want me to stay?” Steve asked, his voice hushed and a little awed.

“Yeah. I don’t move around much in my sleep, so I shouldn’t, you know, knock through you,” Bucky added, feeling a blush start on his cheeks. Oh god, that came out more awkward than he meant.

Steve didn’t seem to mind, and merely shifted on the bed like he was getting comfortable. “All right,” he said, and Bucky grinned.

“Okay- okay, I’ll be like...five minutes. Stay. Don’t go,” Bucky said, and Steve’s shy little smile burned right through his chest.

Bucky practically ran down the hall to the bathroom, and when he got back, clean and ready to try sleep again, Steve was still there. Bucky could feel his eyes on him as he slipped under the covers, and felt a strange coldness on his forehead when he closed his eyes.

“Night, Buck,” he whispered, and Bucky mumbled a reply, letting himself drift off.

Chapter Text

Somehow, waking up with a ghost wasn’t that different than waking up next to any one else, in fact the only difference to Bucky was that Steve wasn’t close to him, tucked in under his arm. That, and the fact that he was still in his Captain America outfit, but there wasn’t really anything either of them could do about that.

Peggy could, but the idea of asking her to put Steve in something else was enough to have Bucky rolling his face into the pillow, blushing bright red. He could hear Steve chuckle at him, and peeked to the side enough to cast him a glare.

“Whatever you were just thinking made you look constipated,” Steve said, but despite how much he sounded like he wanted it to be light-hearted, Bucky could practically smell the anxiety. He shuffled back onto his side, and squeezed his eyes shut, picking reassuring Steve over his own dignity.

“I considered very, very momentarily, asking Peggy if she could make your outfit...not,” Bucky managed, and then covered his eyes with his hands.

“You...wanted to ask Peggy to...make me look naked?” Steve asked, and this time there was absolutely no stress in his voice, except maybe the kind of trying not to laugh in Bucky’s face.

“Oh my god, just laugh, please, I know!” Bucky groaned, but felt less embarrassed when Steve giggled helplessly, like a child. It was a very nice sound, and one that Bucky would have to try and tempt out of him more often. “I’m getting coffee, I can’t believe I am starting my day getting laughed at,” he grumbled, pushing his covers off, and sticking his tongue out at Steve while he stood up. Steve grinned back, and then slipped off the other side, and disappeared through the wall.

Well. That was something Bucky was going to have to get used to, the abrupt return to reality after such a fantasy. Though, if he was truly honest with himself, he knew that going anywhere down this road was going to hurt, whether big or small. “Agh,” he groaned, and shook his head, instead grabbing a jumper to slip over his PJ top, and shoved his feet into his slippers, muffling a yawn as he shuffled out his door.

Steve was waiting outside, leaning against the wall, as casual as you please, and fell into step beside Bucky as he headed to the kitchen. He was glowing a little bit. It was distracting, a lot bit.

The second thing that broke the fantasy was Bucky getting two mugs down, and stopping himself before turning to ask Steve how he took his coffee. He just put the mug back up, and emptied out two sachets of instant mocha, rather than one. He added an extra teaspoon of coffee too, because why not?

The fur babies, probably hearing the kettle start to whine, must have realised that Bucky was awake then, as Booker came careening into the room whining, wagging not just his tail, but his entire body, and Alpine followed him in, tripping over herself with every third overeager step. “Okay! Okay, calm down, I’ll sort your food out,” Bucky said, trying to be careful as he stepped his way through two tiny bodies trying to twist around his feet.

“I see the circus is in town,” Dugan said, appearing in the doorway, grinning at the animals.

“It’s been here since ‘44, Dum Dum, it just got bigger,” Steve said, and Dugan let out a bark of laughter that set Booker off.

“Oops,” he said, utterly unrepentant, even grinning at the look Bucky sent him.

“There’s enough going on without you revving up the dog, thanks,” Bucky groused.

“I’ll say,” Dugan said, in a voice that was entirely too knowing, and Bucky forced himself to concentrate on filling the two bowls of animal food, a mix of wet and dry for Booker, and special extra-fattening wet food for Alpine. He would not look at Dugan, because he would either say something or blush and both of those things would be far too telling.

“Dugan, maybe you should-” Steve started saying, but he sounded so unsure, and goddamnit, Bucky hadn’t taken Steve into account! These people have known Steve for years, of course they’re going to know his tells!

“-stop winding the dog up before I’ve had my coffee? Excellent suggestion, Steve, seconded,” Bucky said, and softened the statement with a dramatic eyeroll to him. Steve’s shoulders stopped inching towards his ears, and he smiled, so Bucky took the win and shuffled over to the newspaper-laden corner of the kitchen to drop the bowls down. He had to practically dive out of the way as two apparently starving creatures tore into their respective meals.

“Then have your coffee so I can wind Rogers up instead!” Dugan retorted. Bucky rolled his eyes again when Steve let out a helpless giggle.

“Hopeless,” Bucky mumbled, and didn’t turn back around to the pair of ghosts until he was stirring his mocha. He made a motion with his elbow to Dugan, inviting him to carry on. Not like he could actually ask for privacy, nor would he want to Steve to have to lie to the only people he has.

Dugan tipped his bowler hat to Bucky, and walked up to the kitchen table to lean against it at an angle he probably considered rakish. “I was just sayin’ to Peg and Jones last night, wow! Rogers sure took off quick, comes back from his session in the tower, doesn’t spare us one thought-”

“I said I was sorry!” Steve said, and sounded as exasperated as Bucky felt, but Bucky could also remember having very similar conversations with Becca. From both sides.

“-not even a glance before he was off inside! And I said to Jones, boy, he took off quick, and we’d seen Miss Barnes swept away by the goddesses-”

“Goddesses? Is that what you’re calling Sif and Val?” Bucky interjected. “I called them that yesterday!”

“Great minds! Also, they just- I mean, you’ve seen them,” Dugan agreed, whistling lowly. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph.”

“Right? I feel like just one of them could lift me one handed without breaking a sweat,” Bucky said, nodding.

“So could Rogers,” Dugan said, and immediately Bucky felt caught.

“Damn,” he said, conceding defeat.

“You really thought that would get me off track?” Dugan teased, with a shit eating grin firmly in place.

“Enough so that Steve could have a moment to breathe,” Bucky said, flicking his eyes over to Steve, and seeing the blush on his cheeks bright enough that it could be mistaken for a real one.

“Not a chance! Anyway, so Miss Barnes goes off, so we know he could only be going to look in on you, Mister Barnes, and then we don’t see him again!” Dugan finished with relish, grinning like a shark when Bucky remembered exactly how Steve had found him, and had to suddenly look into his coffee, fighting down a blush of his own.

“I can’t have one night on my own? Must I come back to the group every night?” Steve groused, but even Bucky could hear the complete lack of sincerity in it.

“I don’t know, can you?” Dugan asked, his eyebrow raised pointedly. Steve frowned, crossed his arms, but there was no denying that bright, bright blush across his cheekbones. Even the tips of his ears were going red, and Bucky had a deep, deep need to kiss them.

“Steve, come here,” Bucky said, patting the bench next to him. The words were barely out of Bucky’s mouth before Steve was moving, and settled in next to Bucky with as little space as they could manage, giving Bucky a grateful smile. That was unbearable, Steve grateful that Bucky wanted him around still? The only thing better Bucky could imagine was him actually being. “Yes, Steve spent the night with me. Yes, there was someone’s hand in someone’s pants and if you have to ask whose, I will simply ask you to remember who is corporeal.” Bucky took a sip of coffee. “And who can actually remove his pants,” he added, barely holding back his grin as Dugan’s expression turned from triumphant to utterly shocked.

“Buck...” Steve groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

“Fucking hell, Captain,” Falsworth’s voice said, and Bucky groaned louder than Steve when he looked up to see the rest of the Commandos lurking in the kitchen doorway. They had expressions varying wildly from awed, to shocked, to something like horror on Falsworth’s face, which made Bucky snort.

“Okay, all of you, get gone!” Steve barked, shooing his team away, Dugan cackling wildly as he was chased from the room. Booker, apparently done inhaling his food, helped herd the rest away, nipping at Falsworth’s heels. Bucky made a note to give Booker a treat, as he heard Falsworth’s very posh protestations.

Bucky took another sip of his coffee, and finding it cooler than boiling, proceeded to take a huge gulp, sighing as he leaned back into the counter. “Sorry,” he said, smiling a little ruefully at Steve.

Steve laughed, shaking his head. “Well, nothing you said was untrue,” he said, and leaned his hip against the counter, his body entirely facing Bucky. “It’s...probably the most that’s happened for any of us since the- well. Since.” His smile dimmed from genuine to sad, and Bucky wanted to kiss him, or hug him- Fucking hell.

“This is so infuriating,” Bucky said, dumping his coffee mug on the bench between them, barely able to keep his voice above a growl.

“Oh. I’m- I can go? I don’t want to you to think-” Steve sounded so apologetic and sincere and Bucky wanted to hit his head against the bench.

“No! Steve, not you, not- No, I just really want to kiss you right now,” Bucky said, and watched with blooming satisfaction as Steve’s sad face turned just a little smug. He ducked his head, and Bucky nearly wilted at how cute he looked, tall and strong and dolled up in costume, and yet was staring at his feet like a high schooler. Then he looked at Bucky’s mug on the counter, frowned, and straightened. Bucky was still trying to recover from the head-down-shy-and-smug Steve, that he was not prepared for Steve Rogers, Man-with-a-Plan. “Jesus fuck,” he said, and then wanted to hit his head on the bench even harder.

Steve grinned at him, clearly knowing what Bucky’s reaction was to this time. “Lift up your mug?” He asked. Bucky did, frowning in confusion, but happy to go along with it. Steve tilted his head to look closer at where Bucky had been drinking from, and then bent himself enough so his lips could just brush the lip of the mug. Bucky’s mouth dropped open, feeling his entire body utterly feverish with want at even such a small motion. Steve looked up at him through his ridiculously long lashes, and Bucky managing to stand up was suddenly in doubt.

“Steve...” he managed, with a stupidly breathy tone.

“Your turn,” Steve murmured back, and Bucky practically choked on his tongue. He hurried to swap his mug between his hands, and then, as reverently as he could, pressed his lips to the same place Steve had, pretending that he could feel something left behind. Somehow his coffee tasted better on the next sip.

“I know it’s not...actually something, but I thought-” Steve said, and all the easy confidence he seemed to exude was gone, and he was blushing and rubbing the back of his neck, and Bucky had to force himself not to try and kiss him for real, feeling his body fight the urge to leap forward.

“If I could drag you by your collar back to bed right now, I would,” Bucky said, and Steve’s blush darkened, even as he let out that childish giggle that Bucky was careening towards adoring.

“Oh!” Said a voice, and Steve whipped around so fast it would almost be funny, if not for the worry on his face. Bucky looked past his shoulder to see a delighted looking Peggy.

“Peg! I- We- I should have-” Steve started several times, but Peggy cut him off with a airy wave of her hand.

“I didn’t see nor hear anything!” She said, and reinstated herself as Bucky’s favourite ghost. Well. Second favourite. She went to walk away, and then doubled back, winking at Bucky. “Though if I had, what I did see or hear was utterly adorable and has my full support. Anyway!” She practically floated off, and Bucky giggled at the scolded look on Steve’s face.

“Steve,” Bucky said, trying to be comforting, but also having to restrain giggles of his own.

“I don’t suppose you metaphorically dragging me back to bed is still on the table?” Steve asked, and he sounded genuinely hopeful, enough that Bucky had to force himself to gently place his cup in the sink instead of throwing it in the general direction.

“You know, I could do with another hour in bed,” Bucky said, and saw a shiver run through Steve. “Maybe two.”

The way that Steve seemed to have to stop himself from running to Bucky’s room was enough to get Bucky moving too.

--

Bucky showered much later than he would usually, and had to laugh at Steve’s blush when he offered to let him come in the bathroom with him.

--

It wasn't until a while later, when Bucky was curled up on one end of the couch with his knitting, that Steve seemed to get hit with the reality of what happened. Bucky watched him tense up, at first looking to the TV where Princess Mononoke was playing again (not that Bucky was complaining. It was his favourite one), but when he looked away from a relatively peaceful scene he could see that Steve's eyes were far away.

“Hey,” Bucky said quietly, so that the other ghosts in the room, flitting about doing their own things, wouldn't hear. Or least they could do a reasonable impression of not hearing.

Steve looked over to him, and blinked, then became a little sheepish. “Hey. Sorry,” he replied, and made like he was going to concentrate on the movie again.

“You looked off with the fairies then,” Bucky said, and then frowned when Steve shifted uncomfortably, hands wringing in his lap. “What's wrong?”

Gabe suddenly let out a triumphant shout, and promptly tackled Dernier to the ground, Dernier cackling. Bucky let out a surprised laugh, wondering what caused that, and then under the cover of the cacophonous noise, Steve murmured, “You talked about it so easily.”

Bucky looked away, back to Steve, who looked a strange cross between concerned and relieved. “About us? Did...did you not want to? Sorry, I figured-” Bucky started, worried that he’d outed Steve, but Steve was quick to shake his head.

“No, I mean, I could never have. Back then or now, even though they-” Dugan’s loud laugh boomed out. “-they would be fine with it. It had to be a secret even from friends.” Steve’s hands were being wrung so painfully in his lap, Bucky had never wanted to take them in his own more badly.

“It was a long process for me too, being comfortable being out,” Bucky started, putting his knitting in his lap, giving Steve his full attention. “It made it easier that Becca was bisexual too, so we sort of made it a joint thing. It doesn't stop being hard sometimes, to be honestly yourself, but it definitely helps with beating back that little voice that thinks you should be ashamed of yourself.”

Steve looked offended. “There is no part of you that is shameful,” he said, as if daring society itself to just try and come for Bucky. Bucky felt warm all the way to his toes.

“Neither you. In fact, I think that you deserve a chance to be completely yourself,” Bucky said, and then after a moment, felt a stone drop into his stomach.

Steve is dead, genius. He's not getting any chances ever again, he thought, feeling nauseous.

Steve, however, looked at Bucky like he was the sunset, sunrise, and Aurora Borealis all in one and it was all Bucky could do not to look away. “Thank you, Buck,” he said, so quiet and revering that Bucky had to drop his head, looking away from the sincerity.

“You're welcome, Steve,” he said, peeking up at him. Steve had one moment to smile at him before he was suddenly being tugged off the couch by Dugan, claiming to need the strongest one on his side.

Bucky laughed as some kind of strange tug of war started, Dernier and Gabe in the middle as the rope. Over the yelling and the protests from Morita that having the Captain on side was “cheating”, Bucky nearly missed Becca coming home. He looked behind him when Booker went tearing out of the room, barking happily, and heard Becca’s gleeful gasp.

“There's my little man,” she said as she walked into the living room, kissing Booker's head over and over while he wiggled around in her arms.

“Waaayheyyyy! The other victorious Barnes returns!” Said Dugan, and then was promptly pulled to the ground by Dernier. Bucky wanted more than ever for Becca to see them too, as she slumped into the seat vacated by Steve, and said something Bucky didn't quite catch over the shouting pile of adult men.

“Sorry, Becca, there are a bunch of children tackling each other, what did you say?” Bucky practically shouted, and had to hold in a laugh as Steve immediately shushed the others. Becca giggled.

“You know how mad you look when you do that?” She said, and prodded Bucky’s thigh with her booted foot.

“Proper insane,” Bucky said. He stretched out his foot to jab her right back, and laughed at the way her face screwed up. “How was your date? Dates?”

Becca let out a huge, happy sigh and slumped even further on the couch, practically beaming out sunshine with how satisfied she looked. “We didn’t have sex,” she said, and lolled her head to the side, smiling at Bucky.

“Well, you don’t look like it,” Bucky said, and got a thump to his leg in response.

“They want to date-me-date-me, Buck. I even stayed in the spare room of their place they’re renting. Like, they were so adamant that they wanted to get to know me properly. Sif kissed my hand over dinner. Like, I’m dying. I’m dead!” Becca grimaced, and looked off into the corner of the room. “No offence to the actual dead present!”

“None taken!” Dugan replied, and Bucky laughed.

“But like, for real, it was just the nicest and best date I’ve ever been on. They’re gonna take me out again next week. I don’t think I will ever be this completely happy ever again. I’m just ready to fucking propose.” Becca flopped to the side, landing mostly on Bucky’s outstretched leg, making him wince.

“That’s awesome, Becs, I’m happy for you,” Bucky said, and patted Becca’s face. She purred and Bucky laughed again scratching at her hair. “I’m glad the unbleached hair wasn’t the curse you thought it would be.”

“Shut up,” she replied, flailing her hand around until she could just-barely smack him in the face. “How was your weekend alone? Get up to anything? Any ghost gossip I should know about?”

Bucky had to force himself not to look at Steve, and rubbed at his head when he could hear the giggling and cajoling from the others. “Uh. Well. There’s...not nothing,” he said, and tried not to wince when the teasing immediately quietened. Suddenly, it was like the happiness and peace of the morning was gone, and Bucky felt strangely ashamed at what he and Steve were.

Becca sat up, and peered at him. “Buck? You okay?”

Bucky rubbed his face again. “So. Uh. Steve- is back.”

“Right. Good to hear,” Becca said, nodding. She looked as worried as she had before she had left the previous day. “You look guilty.”

“We...sorry, guys, can we get some privacy?” Bucky said, looking over to the ghosts. Steve was quick to start ushering them out, but Bucky caught the unsure look on his face that may as well have been a dagger through his heart. Once it was just him and Becca in the room, Bucky sighed, and looked back to his sister. “Steve and I did the ghost-and-human equivalent of having sex.”

Becca blinked. “Uh-”

“Twice. Also I think I might actually be in love with him and I am pants-shittingly terrified of that,” Bucky rattled off, and then buried his face in his hands.

“Buck,” Becca said, and he could feel her hands rub up and down his arms, trying to soothe. “I don’t- really know-”

“Sorry. You were just all happy from your date and I just unloaded on you like an asshole,” Bucky said, and Becca sighed. She then thumped their heads together. “Ow!” Bucky lifted his head so he could rub at the spot instead of his face.

“I contain multitudes, I can have afterglow from a good date and be concerned for my brother.” She scooted closer so she could wrap her arm around him. “I wish that this could be something to be overwhelmingly happy about.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Bucky said, and let his head fall onto her shoulder. “I don’t know what to do about it. I’m...” He let his words trail off, not even knowing in himself what he was going to say.

“I don’t know either, Buck. I’m sorry,” Becca said, and Bucky heard a lot more than just sorry for that. He just nuzzled his head into her shoulder and sighed.

“I put a beef stew in the slow cooker for dinner,” he said instead, and Becca kissed the top of his head.

“It smelled good,” she replied.

--

Becca took Booker out to pee that night, and Bucky caught the look on Gabe’s face when she passed him, and felt guilty all over again. He’d forgotten about him, hadn’t been paying attention to the way his eyes still followed her around the room. Not that Becca could see him, or knew anything about it, but hearing her talk about her date and that cementing the reality that Becca never were going to be anything more than an unaware woman and a ghost.

Bucky shook off those thoughts and went back to putting away their dishes, making sure the kitchen was tidy before retreating to his room, where Steve would hopefully come and join him again. He wouldn’t mind if they just lay there together, he just liked having him close.

As if thinking about him summoned him, Steve appeared in the kitchen doorway as Bucky turned away from the cabinets. Bucky smiled, and was about to tell him that he was thinking about him, but the smile was quick to fade when he saw how worried Steve looked. “Hey, you okay?” He asked, and could feel his heart pick up a little when Steve’s hands started wringing each other.

“About. Before.” Steve gestured towards the front door, and Bucky just stared at him dumbly. “I didn’t hear anything,” Steve said, and that didn’t clear anything up, so Bucky just continued to stare at him. Steve sighed, and let his hands fall to his sides. Somehow that was worse than the anxious wringing. “It was selfish to try anything, I’m sorry. I should’ve just left last night and-” Steve started, and Bucky’s heart just about stopped in his chest.

“Woah, woah, Steve, what?” Bucky cut in, and stepped as close to Steve as he could. “What are you talking about?”

“I didn’t listen when you were talking to Becca earlier, but you- You seemed regretful. I just didn’t want you to think that you had to continue, or that anything-” Steve started, and he went from looking like a boy being scolded in church to disturbingly blank. Bucky wanted to shake him.

“No! Okay, please stop, please stop saying that. I wanted you to- be there. I want a lot more than that actually, but I can take what I have.” Bucky felt his hands go up, and stopped himself from trying to cup Steve’s face. “Talking about it to Becca just made it...more real, I guess. That this is all we have. But that’s fine! We can- we’re dealing. I’m dealing.”

“Oh.” Steve scratched the back of his neck. “I just- If you wanted to go back to before...we could.”

“Is this your way of saying that watching me jerk off isn’t doing it for you anymore?” Bucky said, hoping the joke would land. “Because the second time was your idea, buddy.”

Steve laughed, and Bucky felt the tension bleed out of his body. “I think it was a joint effort,” he said, and Bucky screwed up his face in mock disgust.

“I am as pure as fallen snow, sir,” he teased, and Steve’s grin grew wider and the worried look in his eyes completely disappeared. “Seriously, Steve, I’m not going into this with my eyes closed. I know that things are going to be- hard and weird- stop that,” Bucky said, when there was a twice to Steve’s lip at the unintended innuendo. “But if I want to date the ghost I will damn well date the ghost.”

Steve blushed, and ducked his head, directing a pleased smile to his boots. Bucky felt fondness for that look bubbling in his chest, and added it to the pile of things he already loved about Steve. “Well. I suppose I’ll just have to put up with that,” Steve said, and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“‘put up with it’. Yeah, you were certainly putting something up,” Bucky muttered darkly, hiding a smile of his own as he walked to his room, Steve following and laughing.

--

Monday brought the restoration to a screaming halt, as giant tarps were erected around the tower and the destroyed wall next to it, people in hazmat suits emerging and disappearing with a disturbing array of tools. Even though Bucky had been on digs himself and had seen skeletons emerge from the dirt, he felt ill to think that those bodies belonged to people who were and are his friends.

“I gotta get out of here,” he complained to Becca as they camped out in the living room, Bucky sprawled across the couch. Becca looked up from her laptop to glare at him. “What?”

“Shhh! I’m working,” Becca grumped, and went back to her laptop. Bucky threw a pillow at her, nearly sending her toppling from her perch atop the coffee table. “Bucky!”

“You have a desk upstairs. In your room.”

“The window looks over the nightmare in our courtyard,” Becca said, and threw the pillow back to Bucky. “Why don’t you go hang out with the ghosts? They could probably use a distraction.

Bucky looked down to the other end of the couch, where Steve was sat on the floor, his hand as close to Bucky’s ankle without going through it. “Steve?”

“I’m good,” Steve said, and despite the fact that Bucky knew that he was struggling with not being able to go to his tower, Bucky took him at his word.

“Steve’s good,” Bucky reported to Becca, who rolled her eyes again.

“Favouritism,” she muttered, and Bucky threw another pillow at her. “Buck!”

“What?” Bucky said innocently.

“Maybe throwing pillows at me is not actually the way to leave the house, dick.” Becca kept the pillow this time, dropping it on the other side of the coffee table.

Bucky had to concede her that point. “You got anything you want me to do while I’m out?” He asked, and when Becca just shushed him again, he sat up on the couch, and swung his legs off the side, carefully avoiding Steve, and stood up. “You wanna come with?” He asked Steve.

“We can’t leave the grounds,” Steve said, and looked apologetic. “I’ll miss you while you’re gone?”

“Awww, babe,” Bucky simpered, and laughed when Steve blushed.

“Jesus,” Becca said, and Bucky directed a glare at the side of her head as he left the room.

--

Bucky didn’t know exactly what he wanted to do while he was out, but once he parked the car and started wandering through the street, he found that just ducking his head into shops to have a look was nice enough. There was a pet shop he’d stopped in when he first got Alpine, and ended up buying her a cat tree that was more like a palace. The nice woman behind the counter offered to give him the display one, already set up, but trying to fit that into the car was going to be an absolute nightmare on his own, so he took the boxed up one, and started hauling that back to the car.

He passed an alley, and saw a familiar silver head out of the corner of his eye. He turned to look further down, and saw Pietro sitting next to possibly the smallest tent Bucky had ever seen. It was more like a waterproof sleeping bag than anything else, and Bucky guessed that Wanda must be inside it, and felt horrified by the idea.

He waved to catch Pietro’s attention, and then ducked into the alley when he realised how mad that probably made him look, coming closer when Pietro waved back, and then pressed a finger to his lips, pointing at the bag. Bucky had been right, and he felt sick by the idea of Wanda sleeping out in the cold.

“Hey, Pietro,” Bucky whispered, and looked at the tiny tent. “Are you guys- is she okay?”

“She can’t sleep at night. Too many chances to people to hurt her,” Pietro said, and Bucky felt fury bubble up in his veins.

“I didn’t know she was sleeping rough,” Bucky said.

“We don’t tell people. She- doesn’t tell people. Makes her a bigger target. People were looking for her the last place we stayed, so now she sleeps somewhere new every night,” Pietro replied, and Bucky could feel his hands shaking with anger.

“You guys don’t have anyone you could stay with? Or maybe there’s a homeless shelter or-” Bucky started, and then quickly closed his mouth when the tent moved. Pietro cast a fond look towards it, but the sadness in his eyes was enough to make a decision for Bucky. “You- I know you guys don’t know me well, or at all, but we have heaps of room up at the castle. She’d be safe there.”

Pietro looked up at him, frowning. “You would have strangers in your home?”

“Well, you can’t be any stranger than the other ghosts that live there,” Bucky joked, weakly, but felt better when Pietro let out a quiet laugh. “Seriously. You could eat our food and use all our hot water. All good.”

“Wanda hasn’t had somewhere safe to stay in a while,” Pietro said, and his hand disappeared through the tent. “It would be good to have her safe. I- I don’t like watching while she suffers.”

Bucky thought about Becca, and how much her mental illness had taken out of her. “Yeah. It’s hard to see someone you love like that.”

The tent wiggled a bit, and then Bucky saw the zip make its way around the top, and a sleepy, tousled looking Wanda stuck her head out. She looked so young that Bucky wanted to cry a little bit. “Mmm? Oh. Hello Bucky,” she said, and yawned. She pulled the zip down further, and Bucky saw Pietro’s hand curled around hers.

“Hey, Wanda. I was just talking to Pietro about you maybe staying with me? It’s gonna get really cold here,” he said, and wished he sounded less like a creepy guy with a van.

“You could stay inside, Wanda. Sleep at night,” Pietro said softly.

Wanda blinked, the words probably taking a little longer to process while she throws off her sleep. “Stay? In your castle?”

“Yeah. Anywhere you like. Well, except Becca’s room. It’s probably a disaster zone in there,” Bucky said, and Wanda smiled, huffing a little laugh. “I- Well, I saw Pietro, and I had to come offer.”

“It is very sweet of you. And it would be good to not be behind garbage bins,” Wanda said, screwing her nose up at the dumpster. “And I could help your ghosts.”

“Yeah! They’ll be amazed that you guys can touch,” Bucky added, gestured at their joined hands.

“You can touch Pietro too,” Wanda said, through another yawn, and then before Bucky could react at all, Pietro’s hand was in Bucky’s. He gaped at it, feeling the coldness of it, the slightly-not-there weight of it.

“Holy shit,” Bucky said, and squeezed Pietro’s hand, watching as the skin shifted in response. “Oh my god!”

“It makes Wanda tired for too long, but she can do it for other ghosts too! Sometimes to move on, they just want a hug or something,” Pietro said proudly, and while Bucky did register his words for what they were, the idea of holding Steve’s hand, holding him, was so demanding and dominating he nearly doubled over with it.

“That is really amazing, Wanda,” Bucky said, and let Pietro’s hand go, not wanting to tire her out while she was already so worn out.

“It is no trouble. Ghosts are just lonely, after all.” Wanda pulled herself upright, and then pulled a small backpack from deeper within the tent. Now he could see inside, Bucky could see an actual sleeping bag, a couple of rather thin looking blankets, and a bundled up jacket that was clearly being used as a pillow. “Would you mind waiting a few moments while I pack up? I would very much like to take you up on your offer.”

“Yes! Yes, of course, I can actually go get my car, bring it closer?” Bucky offered quickly, and Wanda’s smile was so tired and so grateful that he nearly bolted out of the alley to get it done faster. “I’ll be right back. Thank you, for taking it up.”

“Thank us? Bucky, it is your generous offer-” Pietro started, but Bucky waved his hands at them.

“No, no, just- okay. I’ll be back,” he said, and then sped out of the alley, only remembering to get the box with the cat tree once he had already passed it.

Chapter Text

Becca, to her absolute credit, was only outwardly confused by Bucky bringing home a bedraggled stranger for a moment, before she warmly greeted her. “Hey! I’m Becca, Bucky’s sister,” she said, and held out her hand to shake. 

Wanda shook it, smiling gratefully. “I am Wanda. Thank you, for opening your home up, I know it is not an easy thing.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that, as you saw, we have quite a few people running around. At least you’re just staying in a room, not digging up the courtyard,” Becca said, rolling her eyes in the direction of the front doors. 

Wanda laughed, and Bucky grinned at Becca, giving her a thumb’s up from behind Wanda. Becca shrugged back with a confused smile, but made sure it was more genuine when she looked back to Wanda. 

“This is my brother, Pietro.” Wanda passed Becca’s hand to where Pietro’s was outstretched, and Bucky watched as Becca’s mouth dropped open. It must feel even weirder to Becca, having her hand held by something she cannot see, like the air was suddenly solid. “Bucky said you cannot see or hear ghosts like we can, but I would not let Pietro stay here without introducing himself to his hosts.” 

“Holy fucking shit,” Becca said, turning her hand this way and that, Bucky watching Pietro laugh as she stared at their joined hands. “Oh my fucking god. Bucky!” Becca turned huge, shocked eyes on Bucky, and he laughed along with Pietro. 

“Yeah, I know right?” He said, and then watched as Becca shook Pietro’s hand around, practically flinging him back and forth. 

“This! Is! Amazing!” Becca shouted, and Bucky watched as ‘their’ ghosts came hurtling from various rooms, mostly looking  concerned, though Dernier looked merely amused, especially when to their eyes it must just look like Becca was just excited about a handshake. 

“Oh! These must be the people you told me about, Bucky,” Wanda said, smiling warmly at him, before looking back to the ghosts, waving the hand that wasn’t on Pietro’s shoulder. “Hello! I am Wanda, and this is my brother Pietro.”

“Hello!” Pietro greeted, waving, before Becca tugged him to the side again. 

“You can see us?” Peggy said, looking at Wanda with amazement. “First no one, now two!” 

“Yes, I was born with the gift,” Wanda said, and then she seemed to falter a bit, her knees wobbling. 

“Becs, let go,” Bucky said, moving to help Wanda, and Becca dropped Pietro’s hand quickly. “Makes her tired,” Bucky explained, and Becca winced.

“Sorry, Wanda,” she said. She also tried to subtly look at her hand, like touching Pietro would’ve changed it somehow. 

“It is fine,” Wanda said, smiling soothingly at Becca. “Really, I wish I could let you for longer.” 

“Let her do what?” Dugan called out, and Wanda pointed to Pietro. 

“I am dead!” He said cheerfully. 

“But Becca was holding your hand?” Peggy said, now staring at Pietro like he was lying. 

Wanda took her hand away from Pietro, and he promptly stuck his hand through Becca’s shoulder to wave at her. 

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Dugan breathed. 

“You- you can touch him? And let him touch living people?” Gabe asked, and Wanda nodded. 

Suddenly all of them were staring at Steve, and Steve was staring at Bucky. He could feel the weight of his gaze like it was his big hands, warm on his shoulders. 

“Why are they looking at you?” Wanda asked Steve, and Steve blinked a couple of times, and looked away from Bucky to her. 

“I- Bucky and I are together,” he said, and Bucky felt a rush of fondness from his fingers to his toes. It was quickly doused by sad longing, but Bucky could ignore that. 

“Oh! Would you wish to try?” Wanda asked, holding her hand out to Steve. 

Steve reached out to take it, but stopped just before their fingers touched, and looked up at Bucky. “Buck?” He asked. 

“Go on,” Bucky urged, and when Steve’s hand curled around Wanda’s, and he let out a laugh that was almost a sob, Bucky felt a sting of tears himself. Steve copied Becca from before, and turned her hand in his, even reaching out with his other hand to gently touch her wrist, frowning when his finger passed through her sleeve to get there, but it wasn’t there long. 

“Bucky?” Wanda asked, and Bucky tore his eyes away from watching Steve carefully touch Wanda’s skinny wrist, to look to her instead. She tilted her head towards Steve, who looked up himself, and had such a hungry expression on his face that Bucky felt raw just seeing it. 

“You- you feel okay?” He asked Wanda first, partially because he was actually concerned, but also delaying a little, afraid that she was wrong and his hand would pass straight through Steve’s. 

“I’ll be fine for a few moments,” Wanda said, and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Go on.” 

“Steve looks like he would explode if you don’t,” Pietro said, and grinned at the laughs he got, Dugan’s the loudest. 

“In that case,” Bucky said, the joke weak as his eyes met Steve’s, and Steve reached out his free hand. Bucky took a step closer, and put his hand in Steve’s. 

And it was solid, and there, a little cold, a little weightless, but it was there, and he could push his fingers between Steve’s, feel them close tight, feel the solidness of having his hand, in his. Bucky’s breath caught on a sob, and he could feel tears spilling over. 

“Hi,” Steve said, looking as amazed as Bucky felt. 

“Hi there,” Bucky replied, squeezing his hand. “Anyone tell you you got big hands?” 

Steve laughed, and then raised their joined hands to his lips, and Bucky could feel him kiss his hand. His lips had the same cold-kind-of-there feel of his hand, but there was a whisper of something softer, and it hit Bucky like a punch to the gut. He reached up with his free hand, and cupped Steve’s face, feeling the line of his jaw under it. 

“You’re-” Bucky said, not really knowing what to say, and Steve just turned his head to kiss Bucky’s palm. 

“You too,” he said, and Bucky let out a choked sound. 

Then suddenly Bucky’s hands fell through Steve, and he shuddered with pain, Bucky snatching his hands back just as quickly as they had fallen. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Wanda said, but she sounded so completely exhausted that Bucky quickly shoved aside his own panic-devastation-horror, and spun around to catch Wanda as she wobbled. “I’m so sorry, I can still-”

“No, no, you’re exhausted, it’s okay,” Bucky soothed. “Thank you, but please don’t hurt yourself for it.” 

“You should sleep, you barely got any today,” Pietro said, wrapping his arms around his sister. 

“But- they were-” Wanda said, but Pietro knocked his head into hers every time she tried to keep talking.

“Pietro’s right. You should get some sleep. Come on, you can use my bed,” Bucky said, going to lead her down the hall. 

“Oh, no, I couldn’t, I’m filthy,” Wanda protested. 

“Then we’ll show you where the shower is first,” Becca interjected. 

“No more excuses,” Pietro said firmly, grabbing Wanda’s hand. 

She sighed. “Yes, please. It would be good to be clean,” she said, and Pietro gave Bucky a victorious grin. 

“I’ll grab you some clean clothes. I’ve got a pair of the softest PJ pants in the world,” Becca offered, and started off down the hall to the stairs. “Come on! You can use the bathroom up here, it’s way nicer than Buck’s.” 

“Untrue!” Bucky shot back. “At least mine is tiled!” 

“Oooohhhh, my looooove, my daaaaaaaarling,” Becca sang as she disappeared upstairs, Wanda and Pietro following behind, Wanda looking back to frown in confusion at Bucky. He shrugged at her, keeping up an encouraging smile until she and her brother were out of sight, and then let it drop.

The joy and wonder he had felt at getting to touch Steve, feel his hand in his, had so quickly been pushed out by a churning, vile horror when he was no longer solid, and it echoed the fear that Bucky had had at first, that he would reach out and fall through, hurting Steve in the process too. His cheeks still felt wet from the happy tears he’d sobbed out, but he could feel fresh ones slip down over it. He wondered if Steve felt a little like he did right then, that maybe it would’ve been better not to know. 

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice asked, and he sounded worn, sad. Bucky had probably been standing there unmoving for a while, long enough to be concerning. “Buck?” He asked again, and Bucky realised that even more time had passed where he was unmoving. 

“Yeah?” He replied, and turned around. He could barely look at Steve, so instead he looked past him at the now-empty hall. The others must’ve cleared out to give them space. Bucky wanted to laugh bitterly at that idea, there was enough space between him and Steve. 

“You okay? That was- that was good, wasn’t it?” Steve asked, and the uncertainty in his voice broke Bucky’s heart. 

“Yes, yes, it was. I- it just...” Bucky ran a hand through his hair, holding a handful of it and tugging on it a little, like the sharp throb would make him feel better, make him forget. “I guess it just also made me realise everything we won’t get.” 

“Do...do you want me to go?” Steve asked, and Bucky looked up at his face in horror and disbelief. Steve looked miserable, and Bucky had to stop himself from trying to hug him, knowing that he would just fall through him without Wanda’s help. 

“No! Steve, it’s not- no!” Bucky said, half shouting, feeling delirious at the idea of Steve not being around. “I just want to do that like all the time and now I know how it feels, not having it is- like I didn’t know I would miss it this much before I had it.” 

Steve didn’t seem particularly assured, but he lost the devastated look enough to make Bucky feel less like he’d broken something that couldn’t be mended. “I know what you mean,” he said, and stepped far closer to Bucky than Buck would usually, for fear of hurting him. 

“Steve...” Bucky whispered, feeling like he was drowning in the blue of Steve’s eyes. Then Steve winced, and looked nauseated, and Bucky looked down in panic, trying to see where he’d accidentally brushed into him. He saw, instead, Steve trying to wrap his hand around Bucky’s, his fingers sometimes just skimming through. “Steve!” Bucky pulled his hand away, tucking both of them behind his back. “Don’t do that, you’re gonna hurt yourself!”

“Sorry,” Steve replied, not sounding sorry at all. “Just wanted to see if I could do it on my own.” 

Bucky sighed, and let his hands fall back to his sides. “If only.” He tried to smile at Steve, and from the frown, it probably came out more like a grimace. “Wanna go sit down? Watch something?” 

Steve nodded, his face horribly resigned. Bucky led him into the living room, feeling like he was leading him into prison instead. 

--

Wanda and Pietro fit into their weird little family like they hadn’t realised their particular puzzle piece was missing. The ghosts were thrilled to have someone to talk to who had some actual knowledge about being a ghost, especially the ones with powers. Pietro had been over the moon excited to hear about Peggy’s power, and Wanda had cried when she saw her brother without horrible bruising around his throat for the first time. Peggy had barely been able to stand Wanda’s estatic gratitude, and had nearly cried herself when Wanda had thrown her arms around her, hugging her tight.

“I’m too English for this,” she sniffed to Bucky, Falsworth nodding seriously next to her. 

“I think you’re actually just a giant softie, Peg,” Bucky replied. 

“Preposterous,” she had replied, and hugged Wanda tighter. 

Becca liked having Wanda around too, though Bucky kept reminding her that Wanda was not actually a life size Barbie doll. Becca ignored him every time, and Wanda didn’t actually seem to mind sitting between Becca’s legs while Becca braided her hair, or sat still while Becca painted her eyes with every shadow she owned. Pietro practically glowed to see his sister looking done up and well rested, so Bucky’s protests were clearing falling on three sets of deaf ears. 

Val and Sif were also delighted to meet Wanda, and teased Bucky that he had been replaced as the favourite sibling. Bucky could hardly argue that, with how Becca had her arm around Wanda like she was actually Becca’s sister. Bucky had joined in with the teasing of Becca, especially with how red she got every time Val or Sif would flirt with her, but Val eventually regarded Bucky with a sly look and mention that Thor had just ‘happened to mention’ that Bucky was attractive, and Bucky had to excuse himself out of the room. 

Steve had asked him later if he was okay. Bucky didn’t know how to tell him that everyone was going to think he was single, even though Steve completely had his heart, so he just shrugged and said he was tired. 

Steve didn’t believe him, and Bucky wasn’t surprised by that at all. He wouldn’t believe himself either. 

Becca went out with Val and Sif again that weekend, and by Monday she was calling them ‘her girlfriends’, practically incandescent with happiness. The progress report coming in from the coroner was that they were getting close to being done, after discovering no more new bones, and Peggy had come back looking a little pale and shaky, but could confirm that they had found everyone. 

Steve disappeared after that, and Bucky slept alone for the next three nights, trying to fool himself that he wasn’t crying. 

--

On Thursday, Becca got a call from Hela, and put the phone on loudspeaker, leaving on the table between Bucky and her while they ate lunch. 

“Finally got someone back to me about the metal frisbee,” she was saying, and Gabe snorted a laugh, nudging Steve. Steve rolled his eyes, but didn’t protest the name. 

“That’s good. Who’s gonna deal with it?” Becca asked, pushing the bowl of salad towards Wanda’s empty plate. Wanda giggled quietly, and served herself another helping. 

“As it appears, technically it is owned by Stark Industries. They’re sending a representative out, as well as someone to check the authenticity,” Hela said, and sounded insulted by the very idea. Bucky had to hold in a laugh of his own. “Maria Hill and Sharon Carter. They’re flying out today, they will be up the mountain tomorrow.” 

“That’s quick,” Becca said. 

Hela made an offended noise. “It could be a very big find, especially if those bodies being exhumed are who we think they are.” Bucky and Wanda looked at Steve and Gabe, Bucky thinking that maybe he was about to watch Steve disappear again, but instead saw him tap his chin like he was deep in thought. “You think it’s Clark Gable?” He asked Gabe. 

“Mmmm. Benny Goodman,” Gabe said, nodding seriously, before the both of them laughed uproariously at their terrible joke. Bucky rolled his eyes, and willed his heart to stop thudding in panic. 

“Will they need a place to stay?” Becca asked, the only one in the room who couldn’t hear the hysterical giggles coming from Captain America and Gabriel Jones. 

“Apparently they’re flying out the second they can confirm the shield is what it is, so I doubt it. Where would they stay, anyway? Your couch?” Hela sneered, and Bucky had to try and cover up a laugh by coughing. 

“Just trying to be accommodating, Hela, Jesus,” Becca shot back, and Bucky was impressed by how easily she could trade barbs with a woman who was intimidation given human form. 

“Americans,” Hela said with derision, and then hung up. 

“She’s so lovely,” Becca drawled, and Wanda giggled. Becca grinned at her, and booped her nose, before turning back to Bucky. “So. How does Steve feel about his frisbee actually being owned by Stark Industries?” She asked. 

Bucky looked to Steve, who shrugged. “Howard did make it. I’m just surprised that the SSR didn’t claim it first,” he said. 

“Howard?” Bucky asked. Steve looked at him fondly, but also like he was dumb. 

“Sometimes I’m surprised that you didn’t know who I was, and then other times I am not,” he said. 

“You’re too recent history! I study the medieval- Honestly!” Bucky exclaimed, and Steve turned big, sad puppy eyes on him. “Ugh. You’re the worst,” he grumped, and Steve immediately brightened. 

“This must be very strange for you,” Wanda said, and Bucky looked at her in confusion, until he saw that she was actually saying it to Becca, who was looking at Bucky, resting her chin in her hand. 

“Oh no, this is the time of my life. I love only having half of the information,” she said, and Bucky picked an olive out of his salad to throw at her. 

--

Becca had laughed when Bucky told her that all the ghosts were lined up outside, and when he pointed out where they were, she saluted them. “As you were, gents,” she said, laughing through her serious tone. 

“They want to make a good impression,” Wanda said, rocking on her heels, stroking Alpine where she was curled up happily in her arms. 

“They can’t see them!” Bucky said, rolling his eyes. 

“You don’t know that yet!” Gabe yelled out, and Bucky had to concede he had a point. 

“They won’t be here for a while yet, you guys could go and do something until they get here,” he said. 

“I for one am too antsy,” Peggy declared. There was a chorus of agreement, and Bucky admitted to himself that it wasn’t a fight worth starting, and so went back inside to his room, where Steve was laid out on the bed, where Bucky had left him. 

“Not gonna join the others?” Bucky asked, even though he knew the answer. 

Steve shook his head. “Don’t really want to see someone take the shield away. Feels strange,” he said, and Bucky sat on the edge of the bed, resting his hand close to Steve’s.

“You...you gonna be here when I come back after?” Bucky asked. He dreaded the idea, coming back inside after they take the shield away, and hearing distant screams. It didn’t make him feel any better that Steve didn’t answer, instead looking guiltily at the wall. “Listen, I know you can’t help it-” 

“You don’t have to be okay with it, Buck,” Steve said, and sounded weirdly bitter. 

Bucky tried not to flinch away from him at that. “I’m not okay with it, I just know there’s nothing I can do to stop it from happening. And that you can’t stop it either. I just-” Bucky said, but Steve cut him off. 

“I can.” Steve turned his head further towards the wall. 

Bucky felt a coldness seep into his veins. “What do you mean you can?” Part of him distantly screamed that he didn’t want to hear the answer, but the question was already out there. 

“I can...stop it. I just don’t want to usually,” Steve said, his voice carefully blank. The coldness in Bucky froze over.

“Why?” He asked, but the word came out short and sharp. 

Steve rolled onto his back, looking up at the roof. “It was the closest thing to be alive I could remember. Until-” Steve’s eyes flicked towards Bucky, and then back up to the roof. 

Bucky stared at him, the cold in him stopping the words from properly sinking in. “Remembering and reliving how you died is the closest thing you feel to being alive?” He sounded too calm, even to his ears. 

Steve looked at him, finally, with a frown. Probably confused by how still and blank Bucky looked. “Yeah. At first I didn’t know why it was happening, and then I started needing it.” 

“Needing it,” Bucky repeated, barely hearing himself over a roaring in his ears that started up. 

“You- you’re taking this very calmly,” Steve said, warily. 

“I am?” Bucky’s voice sounded a little mocking, and he could feel cracks in the ice. “I just think I’m shocked enough that the man I love enjoys experiencing slowly dying crushed under rubble because it reminds him of being alive.” 

“Bucky-” Steve breathed, his eyes wide in his face, looking shocked and hopeful and sad, and Bucky realised what he had said. 

Oh fucking hell. 

“That- That’s the part you take from that?” Bucky said, and the ice cracked further. “You didn’t hear anything else after that?” 

Steve sat up, and the way he seemed to be warring between hopeful and worried made his eyes somehow bluer and Bucky wanted to cry. “No, I was listening, I’m just- I’m already dead, Buck, experiencing it again doesn’t hurt me. And I lo-” Steve said, but Bucky had to stop him before he finished. This- this is not the conversation for that, and while it was truthful, Bucky wasn’t going to have that be how they actually remembered that moment. Bucky was going to have nightmares about it, certainly, but he couldn’t have this be it. 

“It does hurt you! It does! And it hurts your family, the guys and Peggy, it hurts me! It’s beyond fucking selfish, it’s insane-” Bucky spat, and there it was, safe anger. Anger was fine. Sorrow and fear were useless, anger would get him out of the room and through the rest of the day. 

Steve looked for a moment like he was going to argue back, red in the face from indignation, not from soft, shy blushing, but instead closed his mouth, got up, and disappeared through a wall. 

Bucky’s anger vanished in a moment, and he wanted to run out and beg Steve to come back. To beg him not to go into the tower. Instead, he rubbed his face with his hands, willing away tears, and got up to go and join the ghosts outside, to wait for Maria Hill and Sharon Carter. 

Wanda was sitting near the front door, Alpine batting at her fingers, so Bucky sat next to her, staring balefully at the tower. 

“Pietro heard you,” Wanda said after a moment, and Bucky hung his head. 

“I’m sorry. Is he okay?” He asked, and felt Wanda press into his side. 

“He’s fine. Wanted to know if you are too. He went to go find Steve,” she said. 

Bucky sighed, and leaned his head on top of hers. “I didn’t let him say it back,” he said. 

Wanda pressed her shoulder into his a little harder. “You would not have liked to hear him say it then,” she said. 

“No,” Bucky agreed. 

“You will both be distracted today, and you can talk more later. Pietro will make sure Steve does not disappear.” Bucky felt Alpine’s claws in his calf, and watched as she tried to climb up his jeans-covered leg. “And Alpine will also distract you.” 

“She’s very good at it, aren’t you baby?” Bucky crooned, tickling under Alpine’s chin, getting a bite to the tip of his finger in response. “And you’re right. We will.”

“I am always right,” Wanda said confidently, and then Bucky heard a car coming closer. He looked up, and the sound got louder. 

“Looks like the show is happening. Get Becca?” He asked, and Wanda nodded, standing and slipping inside, while Bucky gently pried Alpine from his leg, to shoo her inside. 

“You all right, Bucky?” Peggy asked once he was standing, cat free, next to the closed door. Her red lips were pursed, and she looked as angry as Bucky had felt. 

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. Wish he hadn’t told me, or at least not right before I have to pretend to be fine,” he said, and Peggy seemed to get even angrier. 

“I had a conversation with him the last time he disappeared, about putting a stop to it, if he could. He stormed off too. He can be quite the child,” she said, prim and frustrated. 

Bucky laughed, maybe not with a lot of mirth, but it was good to hear that he wasn’t insane for not wanting his ghost boyfriend to do...that. “Storming off from you would be far less successful than from me,” he said, and Peggy raised one eyebrow. 

“Also helps that I know where he hides,” she said, conspiratorially. 

“Well, I know who to ask,” Bucky replied, and she tapped her nose. 

The car finally pulled in through the archway, and Peggy was quick to dart back to the Commandos, while Bucky waved at it. He couldn’t see through the tinted windows, but he knew enough about cars to know that the sleek black one was very expensive. It pulled up just back from the front of the castle, and two sleek, professional women got out, one in a black pantsuit, brown hair pulled up in a tight bun, the other in jeans and a blue button down, her blonde hair loose. 

“Mr Barnes?” The brunette called out, as they both started walking towards him. The blonde woman paused to grab a suitcase from the backseat, before hurrying to fall into step beside the brunette woman. 

“Hi! James is fine,” Bucky said, forcing every other feeling but plain professionalism down. He held out his hand, and the brunette woman took it with a firm grip. 

“Maria Hill, Stark Industries,” she said, shaking his hand three times and then dropping it. 

“Nice to meet you,” Bucky said, and held out his hand for the blonde woman. “You must be Sharon Carter.” 

“That’s me!” Sharon’s grip was less firm, more warm. She smiled at him too, looking friendly and welcoming. “Nice to finally meet you. Since Maria told me what you found, I’ve been dying to get here.” 

“Cap fan?” Bucky asked, grinning, and also not thinking too hard. 

“Little bit!” Sharon said, with an airy wave of her hand. 

“Let’s go and get you set up then, my sister-” Bucky started, and then Becca exploded out of the doors, looking a little out of breath. “-is here,” Bucky said, trying not to laugh at her. 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, I had headphones on, didn’t hear Wanda until she actually pulled them off my head,” Becca said, and immediately introduced herself to both women. She and Bucky then took them inside, Bucky pausing to look over at the ghosts, and then stopping when he saw Peggy’s face. 

She looked like she’d seen a ghost. Another ghost. 

He left Becca to show the women through to the kitchen, where the shield was laid out, and went to Peggy’s side. “Hey. You okay?” 

“She- the blonde woman. She looks just like my sister. Eloise,” Peggy said, and she sounded so heartbroken. “I- I’d forgotten.” 

“Her name’s Sharon Carter,” Bucky said, and Peggy looked at him, something pleading in her eyes. Bucky hated to see it. 

“Can...I know there not be a chance, maybe it’s just a coincidence, but can you- could you ask? Please?” Peggy asked, and it sounded far more like begging. Dugan wrapped an arm around her, squeezing her tight. Bucky didn’t blame him, if he had Wanda here, he’d be doing the same. 

“Of course, Peggy. Of course I will,” he assured her, and tried to sound firm and confident. “Why don’t you come see us in a bit, and when I see you, I’ll ask her?” 

Peggy nodded, and Bucky’s heart twisted in his chest, seeing her eyes so hopeful and so sad. “Thank you, thank you Bucky, I will.” She seemed to sag a little bit then, and Falsworth slipped between Bucky and Peggy to hold her. 

Bucky was quick to hurry inside, and practically breathed in relief to see Becca easily holding conversation with Maria and Sharon, while Sharon got set up. “Tea or coffee anyone?” He asked, going to flick the kettle on. 

“Coffee, please. Black,” Maria asked. 

“Oooh, me too, please. White, two sugars but,” Sharon said, and smiled at Bucky in thanks. 

“You know my order, champ,” Becca said, and while she wasn’t wrong, he could not help but poke his tongue out at her. Though, only while Maria couldn’t see him do it.

Once Bucky was handing around the hot drinks, Sharon was ready to go, and had some sort of apparatus set up over the shield, a small blue laser focused on the largest of the grooves in it. “What’s this do?” Bucky asked, putting Sharon’s coffee down beside her hand. 

“Thank you!” Sharon took a sip. “It reads the molecular structure of the metal. Basically, if this is vibranium, it has to be the shield.”

“Howard Stark believed he had found the world’s only deposit of vibranium,” Maria explained. 

“More like he couldn’t get any more, most likely,” Sharon said, and Bucky was surprised when Maria laughed quietly. 

“Sharon, don’t bite the hand that feeds you,” she scolded with no heat, and Sharon raised her hands over her head as if in surrender. 

“Just saying! Wakanda ain’t a myth anymore.” Sharon fiddled with something on the device, and the laser started pulsing. She pulled a few other things out of her case, Bucky recognising a few from his archaeological digs, and started to gently pull the last clinging bits of paint off, depositing them in petri dishes. “Just for some carbon dating. Can never be too sure!” She said cheerfully.

“I can respect that. Always gotta have more than one source,” Bucky agreed, and Sharon nodded at him, looking impressed. 

“I remember Professor Friggirsdottir saying you were an archaeologist,” she said, and Bucky raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“I’m surprised she said anything about me at all,” he said, and Becca snorted.

“She likes you! She just doesn’t have any kind of warm in her,” she said, and Bucky waved his hand. 

“Funny way of showing it even without warm,” he muttered, smiling when Sharon laughed. 

“Yeah, she’s always been icy,” she said. 

Bucky was about to ask how many times they had worked together, when he saw Peggy enter the kitchen, flanked by Dugan and Falsworth. She looked shaken, but determined, and Bucky waited until she nodded at him, and then looked back to Sharon. 

“So, what made you wanna come check out the big frisbee?” He asked, figuring it was a safe place to start. 

“Oh, come on! He throws it in one film,” Sharon pretended to gripe, but the beaming smile on her face told Bucky he’d asked the question in the right way. He took a seat next to Sharon as she finished up prepping her samples, and sat back in her own chair. “Well, long story short, he’s kind of family, in way.”

“That can be cryptic or creepy, depending on the angle,” Bucky said, forcing himself not to look at Peggy. 

Sharon tapped her nose, and the motion was so like Peggy’s from earlier that he found himself hoping that Peggy was right. “Okay, but really, Margaret Carter is actually my great aunt. My middle name is Margaret in honour of her. Mum grew up on stories about her bravery and fierceness from my grandma Eloise. She was always so sad that she never got to see Peggy come home.” The device beeped on the table, and Sharon frowned at it, and went to fiddle with it. Bucky kept himself still and calm, forcing himself not to turn and look at Peggy, to shout in happiness that her family was here, in front of her. 

“Is your grandma...still around? I was writing a book on the Howling Commandos, I’d love to get a quote from her,” Becca said, and Bucky made a note to thank her for continuing the questions, even if she didn’t actually know how much this meant. 

“She passed a few years ago, but it was quiet. I think after her husband died she was just ready to join him, you know? Still. She had a good long life. Mum isn’t an only child either, I’ve got four uncles and two aunts,” Sharon said, and laughed. “Mum likes joking that the only thing that stopped any more coming was menopause.” 

Bucky heard Becca ask about quotes from Sharon’s mother instead, but his focus instead was on the soft sobs from behind him. As casually as he could, he excused himself and got up, walking out of the kitchen like he was going to the bathroom, instead hanging around the corner, hoping that Peggy would follow. 

She did, and she was beaming with happiness, even as her eyes filled with tears. “Family, she had a family. She had a family, and she remembered me,” she said, and laughed a little, the sound so bright that Bucky had to smile. “Bucky, thank you so much. I- She had a full life. She didn’t stop living. Oh,” she said on a sigh, clutching at her heart. Falsworth and Dugan looked plenty teary themselves, looking at Peggy so happy. 

“I think she’s ready,” Wanda said, and Bucky jumped a little, not having heard her walk up beside him. She was smiling softly at Peggy. 

“Ready? For what?” Bucky asked. 

“I- I think you are right, Wanda,” Peggy said, and her voice was suddenly very far away. “I- I can hear her calling.” 

“She’s been waiting a long time to see you, Peggy. It would be rude to ignore,” Wanda said, her voice light and teasing. 

Peggy laughed, and smiled beatifically. “It would, wouldn’t it?” 

Peggy closed her eyes on a sigh, and then the hallway was full of blinding golden light, Bucky turning away and wrenching his eyes shut. Once the light was no longer piercing through his eyelids, Bucky turned back around-

And Peggy was gone.

There was a gap between Falsworth and Dugan where she had been standing, but there was no trace of her. She was gone. 

“Where- where’s Peg?” Dugan asked, sounding more afraid than Bucky had ever heard him. 

“She’s moved on,” Wanda said simply. 

“Moved- moved on? She’s gone for good?” Bucky asked, feeling dread close over him. 

That was not matched by Dugan and Falsworth, however. Falsworth looked at Wanda with such hope that to look at him hurt as much as the blinding light had. “We can do that? There’s a chance?” Dugan asked, hurried and frantic. 

Wanda nodded. “I can help you. I can help find the thing binding you in place and help you to let it go. And then you can go beyond,” she said, and Bucky’s mouth dropped open when Dugan whooped and grabbed Falsworth in a huge bear hug, swinging him around, Falsworth laughing the whole time. 

They were joyous, and Bucky could feel nothing but the growing horror that one day the house would be as empty as it had been the first day he had been here. 

Chapter Text

It was hard even thinking about going back into the kitchen, so instead he ducked his head in, just to say he was going to pop outside for a bit, only Becca frowning questioningly at him, and escaped outside. He blocked out Dugan and Falsworth excitedly telling the others that they can move on, and Wanda’s patient answers to questions, and made a beeline for Peggy’s tower. 

He tried to remember the path she had shown him, weeks or months or maybe even years ago, and once at the top, he sat exactly where he had. Except now when he looked to his side, Peggy wasn’t there, and she never would be again. Technically she never was, Bucky supposed. The thought was so neutral that he almost laughed, until grief bubbled up inside him, and he let himself cry. 

Mourning a ghost who was finally free, what a joke. The others, Peggy’s ghost family were down there, celebrating that she was gone, that they could follow her. That they could stop being stuck here, in the place they died. Bucky should’ve been happy for them, should be down there, trying to hold in his own shouts of joy. 

Instead he was sitting in Peggy’s place, hands fisted against his eyes, crying for his friend. 

When he finally did go back to the kitchen, Sharon was packing up her supplies, her devices, a big grin on her face. The shield was packed up, and Maria was handing a business card to Becca, who was stumbling over herself to take it, to thank her for even thinking that she would be a good fit. Maria had clearly offered her a job, and Bucky reminded himself that it was something that he should be also happy about. 

Maria and Sharon thanked them both for their time, Sharon going as far to hug them both, and thank them even more genuinely, Bucky’s smile watery when he saw how happy she was. Talking about her family clearly meant something very important to her, and Bucky could only nod. If he burst out into tears and admitted that her great aunt had been in the room, that seeing her and hearing that Eloise Carter had lived a good long life let her soul be free, she’d look at him like he was insane, and it would ruin what must’ve been a good day for her. 

He just waved with Becca as the car left, and then let Becca drag him inside and plant him on the couch. She peered at him, her hands warm and familiar on his shoulders, and that was enough to set him off crying again. 

“Bucky,” she soothed, pulling him in close. “What the hell happened? This- it’s a good thing isn’t it? Like we knew, but to have it real and in front of you-” 

“Peggy’s gone,” Bucky said, words coming out choked between sobs. He was even hiccuping, for fuck’s sake. 

Becca pulled back to look at him, eyes wide and worried. “What do you mean Peggy’s gone?” She asked gently. 

“Seconded,” Steve said, not gently at all. Bucky looked to where his voice had come from, and saw him in the doorway, looking thunderously angry. Bucky turned back to Becca. 

“She- she heard what Sharon was saying, and she- there was a light, and then-” He said, and watched as Becca’s face lit up, the real reaction, the proper one. Meanwhile, he was trying to breathe around the iron band closing on his chest. 

“Buck, that’s a good thing! She got to move on!” Becca said, but even her excitement was gentle. Her hands stroked up and down his arms, keeping him grounded, reminding him that he was real. 

“I know, and I want to be happy, but I feel like I just lost a friend,” Bucky said, sniffing pathetically. “I just- I feel selfish.” 

“Do you know that she moved on? Really?” Steve asked, and Bucky winced. 

“Wanda said that’s what happened,” he said, but didn’t look at Steve. 

“Is she sure?” Steve pressed, and Bucky shut his eyes tight. 

“Go ask her then, Steve!” He said, and it came out angrier than he wanted, but he was just- he was still hurting from earlier, and he was struggling to be happy about something that felt like death but was more like life, and everything was just- heavy. 

“Buck, point me to where Steve is?” Becca asked, sounding stern. Bucky gestured at the doorway, and heard Becca take a steadying breath, “Okay, Steve, for one, however you are talking to Bucky, stop, for two, he’s already upset, you fuckwad, he doesn’t need your help making it worse!” She shouted, and Bucky looked up at her in shock. She looked properly angry, and was glaring at the doorframe hard enough it was a wonder it hadn’t cracked under the pressure of it. 

Steve looked deflated, and ashamed. Bucky almost wanted to get up and go comfort him. “Buck, I’m sorry, I- I just-” He started, looking at Bucky with sad blue eyes, before sighing, and looking at his feet. “I’m sorry. I’m just sorry. I’ll...” Steve trailed off, looked up at Bucky one more time, and then was gone. Bucky felt like grieving for another reason now. 

“Is he gone? Am I glaring at an empty doorway?” Becca asked, still glaring at said doorway. 

“Yeah. He said sorry,” Bucky said, and Becca relaxed, directed a soft, sympathetic look at Bucky. “I think if I felt slightly less like crying still I would’ve laughed.” 

Becca snorted, shaking her head. “God, it felt stupid, but...”

“Yeah, well, the person who stopped him being dumb is gone now. You might have to step in,” Bucky said, and Becca gasped in mock horror. 

“Ah, fuck. You’re gonna have to lead me to where he is like my seeing eye dog,” she said, despairingly, and Bucky managed a weak laugh. Becca grinned at him, tilting her head, and then softened again, nudging him. “You wanna tell me why Steve was, I think, shouting at you?” 

Bucky pulled his hand from Becca’s to rub at his eyes. “You got some time for a story?” 

Becca wriggled around, and lay her head in Bucky’s lap, keeping their hands together. “Yep.” 

Bucky squeezed her hand, and told her everything. She listened, patiently, and then got up, gave him a hug, and disappeared. Bucky watched her go with some confusion, before he heard Wanda say ‘yes, he’s here’, and then was treated to a truly incredible rant from Becca, and wanted to laugh. Wanted to be giddy with Becca unleashing a shovel talk on Bucky’s ghost boyfriend who she could not see. 

Instead he curled up on the couch, and shoved a pillow over his ears. 

--

Bucky woke up from a nightmare that night, nearly falling out of bed in his hurry to get the covers off. 

“Bucky? Buck, you okay?” Steve’s voice, but not from the other side of the bed, but from behind the closed door. Bucky switched his bedside lamp on, and watched Alpine’s chest rise and fall as she slept, forcing his heart to stop racing. “Bucky?” Steve said again. 

“You can come in,” Bucky said, and then Steve walked through the wall nearest the bed, looking sheepish, but concerned. “Hey,” Bucky said. Despite the whole day, despite everything, having Steve near him was soothing. 

“Hi,” Steve replied, and sat on the edge of the bed. “You were screaming,” he said, and Bucky waved at the bed.

“Bad dream,” he said, by way of explanation. 

“You wanna talk about it?” Steve offered, but Bucky shook his head. 

“Rather just forget about it.” Bucky pushed the quilt all the way to the bottom of the bed, and tugged the top sheet up, getting under it like he was going to go back to sleep. 

“Sure,” Steve said, and then stood up. Fear seized Bucky like claws. 

“Are you leaving?” Bucky asked, and it sounded as frantic as he felt. 

Steve looked confused when he turned back to him. “I- I thought I should stay away. For a bit,” he said, uncertainty clear in his voice. 

“I don’t want you to,” Bucky said. 

Haltingly, Steve sat back down. “I wasn’t very good to you today,” he said. He was trying to tell Bucky to tell him to leave, but Bucky wasn’t going to even entertain the idea. 

“No, but I think Becca yelled at you enough. I just want you to stay.” Bucky reached out to rest his hand next to Steve’s, and watched as Steve’s fingers reached out just that little bit more, almost enough to touch. “I shouldn’t have told you like that.” 

Steve frowned, but then clearly remembered and ducked his head. “Yeah, well, neither. I didn’t want to tell you at all, about the tower, but Peggy- Peggy was adamant that I had to stop going, figure it out, and she got it out of me first. And then she told me that if I didn’t tell you, she would.” Steve’s eyes were distant, heartbroken. “That- that was the last time we talked.” 

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said, and meant it. He knew that Peggy knew, wherever she was, that Steve loved her dearly, but he also knew that it wouldn’t comfort Steve. It wasn’t any comfort to him, either. “She was happy, though. She was ready.” 

Steve rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes. “I just wish I had said anything else. And that I hadn’t sprung anything on you like that,” he said, and looked back at Bucky, flexing his hand. 

“I wish you didn’t need it,” Bucky said. 

“Me too,” Steve replied. He lay down then, finally, Bucky taking his hand back so that Steve could get comfortable, and then lay his hand between them, Steve doing the same. “Can I say it now?” He asked. 

Bucky smiled, but didn’t feel anything even close to happiness. “Only if I can,” he replied. 

“Do over, then,” Steve said, and his smile looked weak but at least Bucky could see that he was actually happy. 

“Do over,” Bucky agreed. He then took in a calming breath, and tried to not look like the words were going to break his heart. “I love you, Steve.” 

Steve’s eyes fluttered shut, like he was savouring the words, and Bucky had to force himself not to cry again. Steve opened his eyes after a moment, and shifted his hand the smallest bit closer. “I love you, Bucky.” 

Bucky felt the words bind him like chains. He smiled at Steve, rather than say anything, and closed his eyes, knowing that he would probably wake up screaming again. 

--

It was a few days, but the first ghost to take Wanda up on her offer was Morita. Bucky watched as she pressed a gentle hand to his chest, and closed her eyes. Pietro watched the exchange carefully, steadying Wanda when she wobbled. 

“You’re waiting to hear a voice,” she said, and Morita blinked, and then his look of realisation was like the sun breaking through clouds. Bucky had to look away, and pretended to be studying the next part of his knitting pattern. 

“I...my girl, she...I told her I wanted to give her a real wedding,” Morita said. 

“Maybe there’s a video? Maybe someone spoke to her? ‘bout you?” Gabe offered, from where the other ghosts were watching. 

“We can always look. Becca? May I use your computer?” Wanda asked, and Bucky watched as Becca got a search open.

“What am I looking for?” She asked Wanda, who looked to Morita. 

“Her...her name was Helena. Helena Day,” he said, and Wanda relayed that to Becca. 

Becca dutifully went through the search options, and Bucky hated himself for wanting there to be nothing. Then she clicked on a link, and a video popped up. “There’s something here! They interviewed some people after a protest about the Vietnam War. Helena Day is listed as an organiser!” Becca said, and Morita was suddenly crouched at her side, Wanda’s hand tight in his.

“Play it?” Wanda asked, and Becca hit play. 

A few minutes in, the cut to an interview of an older woman, 60 years or so, dressed in a haphazard collection of clothes, standing to the side of a mass of people shouting out protest chants. “It’s about protecting an entire generation from these atrocities!” She was saying, and her voice was smooth, buttery and oozed charisma. Morita let out the same happy-sad chuckle Peggy had. “I lost brothers to a war. I lost friends. I lost my best friend, the love of my life. I won’t watch all these younger ones go through loss like that. I’ll march until I fall down if I have to, and if I see our beloved President on the street, I’ll certainly give him a piece of my mind.”

“Give ‘em hell, Day,” Morita whispered, and wiped at his eyes. “God, look at her.” 

“She’s beautiful,” Wanda said, squeezing his hand. “You were a very lucky man.” 

“She’s why I wanted to keep the radio working. Wanted to be able to call her,” Morita said, and Bucky closed his eyes. His voice sounded far away, and dreamy. 

“Can you hear her now?” Wanda asked. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I can. Take care of the guys, huh?” Morita said, and after a moment, the room was filled with the blinding golden light, but even after it was gone, Bucky kept his eyes closed tight, and tried not to flinch at the shouts of joy from the other ghosts. 

“Buck? You okay, bud?” Becca said, and Bucky felt her hand grip his knee. 

“Yeah. It worked,” he said, and Becca’s hand moved, and he felt her pull him close, hugging him tight. 

“Yay?” She said, and Bucky barked a laugh. 

“Yay,” he agreed and when he opened his eyes, he could see Steve just over Becca’s shoulder. He looked like he had realised something terrible, and Bucky had to close his eyes again. 

--

“I’m not going anywhere,” Steve said, and Bucky blinked his eyes open, though his eyelids were heavy with the need to sleep. 

“Whayoumean?” He said, blearily, wriggling down under the covers. 

“I’m not gonna go. Like them. I’m gonna stay,” Steve said, and then Bucky was properly awake, sleep gone like it was never oncoming. 

“Why? Don’t you want to move on?” Bucky asked. Yeah, it was going to hurt like hell when Steve left, and Bucky would probably never really ever move on from it, but why wouldn’t Steve want to be unstuck from here?

Steve frowned at him. “I’m not gonna leave you,” he said, setting his jaw stubbornly. 

Bucky gaped at him. “Steve, you don’t deserve to be stuck here. You should get to go, move on.” 

“Do you want me to go?” Steve asked, and Bucky flinched. Steve looked apologetic about it, but didn’t take it back. 

“No. No, I don’t,” Bucky said. 

“Then I’m staying.” Steve shifted closer, like that was the end of that. 

“I might go,” Bucky said, and Steve looked up at him. His eyes were confused, afraid. Bucky hated putting it there. “Steve, I might not be here forever. And then what? You’ll stay here in case I come back?” 

“Why would you go? Isn’t this your home?” Steve said, and from the way he sounded, he hadn’t even considered Bucky leaving as an option. He hadn’t prepared an argument against it, and Bucky knew he was going to hurt him. 

“Yeah, now. But maybe this restoration is good enough that I get sent to other castles. Other places. I might want to go back to New York. I love you, and that is never going to change, but I’m not stuck here,” Bucky said, and forced himself to watch as Steve’s heart seemed to break in slow motion. “Steve, I-” 

He didn’t get to soothe the hurt. Steve was gone in the next moment, and Bucky curled into a ball, hating himself. 

--

Falsworth asked next, and Wanda smiled when she opened her eyes again. “That’s simple enough,” she said. 

Falsworth frowned, confused. “What is?” He asked, and then his eyes got the now familiar far-off dreamy look, as Wanda hugged him tight. “Oh,” he said, and hugged her right back. 

“You don’t have to hold yourself so tight anymore,” Wanda murmured. Falsworth let out a long, relieved breath, and Bucky watched his body slump. He had never seen how tightly he held himself. 

“Thank you,” he whispered to her, and Pietro caught Wanda as Falsworth disappeared from her arms in a flash of golden light. 

“Nice one, Monty!” Dugan crowed. Bucky hugged himself, suddenly overwhelmed with guilt. He didn’t know what Monty was short for. 

--

Steve didn’t go to the tower when Bucky told him days later that Falsworth was gone, but he did disappear. Bucky remembered Peggy telling him that she knew where Steve went to hide. He wished he knew, but knew he would probably just leave Steve alone anyway. He didn’t know what to say to him. He didn’t think anything would make it hurt less. 

--

Pietro got Bucky’s attention the next night, while Bucky was watching Becca and Wanda play Scrabble. Becca was trying to convince Wanda that ‘blarger’ was actually how you spell ‘blogger’, while Wanda secretly swapped her tiles under the coffee table to better ones. Bucky got off the couch, making sure to pat next to Steve’s hand, trying to let him know he was okay. Steve frowned up at him, but didn’t ask, so Bucky followed out after Pietro. 

“Jacques is ready, he just wanted to talk to you first,” Pietro said, and Bucky nearly turned and ran back inside to get Steve. “He wanted to make it quiet.” 

“Why me though?” Bucky asked. He wasn’t sure he wanted to listen to Dernier, despite it being what he wanted. He wanted to get Steve, terrified that if Bucky told him, he would go to the tower again, and Bucky couldn’t wait for him through that much more.

“Something about passing along his home,” Pietro said, and Bucky felt his shoulders sink under the weight of how much even that meant.

Dernier was waiting next to the now covered-up tower, though the coroner’s work was done, and they merely had to take down the tarp. The builders were ready to return too, to get back to work. Life was moving on, just like the Commandos. “Thank you, Pietro,” Dernier said, and Pietro accepted the hand offered to him. 

“Be rested, Jacques,” he said, and then was off back to the house. 

“I suppose you are questioning why you?” Dernier asked when it was just him and Bucky. 

Bucky grimaced. “A little,” he admitted. 

“Do not fear. I am not going to try and kill you again,” Dernier said, and his tone could be taken for serious if it wasn’t for the glint of mirth in his eyes. 

“Well, I’m afraid now,” Bucky said, laughing a little, even though the moment was somewhat somber. 

“I wanted to tell you why, if that is allowed,” Dernier said, and Bucky was touched by him asking. How their relationship had changed, to get to this point. Bucky nodded, and Dernier smiled a little. “When we woke up, after, the building felt like a friend. Like family. I had not had a home in a long time. France, you know, was no longer French,” he said. He reached out, and gently touched the stone wall. “She welcomed me, and I promised to protect her.” 

“And then I came along?” Bucky asked, and Dernier nodded. 

“The old man, he stayed inside, saw no one, did nothing. But you wanted to change things, tear things. Hurt my home. I could not let you. I argued with them, but Jim and Monty, they wanted you gone too. So then-” Dernier gestured towards the hole in the wall. 

“And then it didn’t stick,” Bucky said. 

“And then Steve saved you, and I was angry again. Not only you hurt my home, but my friend too? If Peggy had lost sight of me for a moment, no doubt that I would have tried again. But I am glad I didn’t. I have watched you plan and build and I see that this is not just your home, but your heart too. Like mine.” 

Bucky swallowed through the lump in his throat. “Being here has been the happiest I’ve been in a long time. Since I left the States,” he said, and Dernier nodded seriously. 

“It is your house in paper, but now I hand her over to you,” Dernier said, and patted the stone wall, gesturing for Bucky to come over. He did, and lay his hand on the wall, feeling his heartbeat like it was the building itself. “I gift you with her care, and I know she will protect you in turn.” 

“Dernier- Jacques, thank you. Thank you so much. I promise, she will be back to her former glory,” he said, and Dernier smiled warmly at him. 

“Then I am ready. Tell the others I’ll see them there,” he said, moving away from the wall. 

“I will. They will,” Bucky said. “Rest well, Jacques.” 

Dernier gave him a small salute, then closed his eyes. 

Golden light filled the courtyard, and Bucky didn’t take his hand from the wall until it faded.

--

Bucky woke up the day after the tarp came down from around the tower, and tried to not read into Steve’s side of his bed being empty. He tugged on a jacket instead, and shuffled his way to the kitchen, not registering Steve and Becca’s voices until he was at the kitchen doorway. He blinked in surprise to see them sitting at the kitchen table, and then blinked again when he saw Steve’s hand in Becca’s, Wanda’s arm around Steve’s waist. 

“Uh, hey,” Bucky said, and Becca looked up at him and smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. 

“Morning, Buck. Kettle’s boiled,” she said, and Bucky gave her a thumb’s up, and headed over to the kettle to put together a coffee.

“Just remember what I said, okay?” She said, and Bucky looked over his shoulder, but she had directed her words to Steve. 

Steve looked up at Bucky, looking sad and tired, and then squeezed Becca’s hand. “I’ll try,” he said, and Wanda repeated it to Becca. 

“Right,” Becca said, and sounded tired, disbelieving. Bucky stirred sugar into his coffee, and turned around to see Becca push her chair back and get up. She gave him a one armed squeeze, and then left, turning down into the hallway. Bucky looked at Steve, tilting his head in question, but Steve just gave him a weary smile.

“Your sister loves you a lot,” he said, and Bucky turned to look where Becca had just gone.

“She yell at you again?” Bucky asked, and Steve let out a puff of laughter.

“Just talked. Far more terrifying,” he replied, and Bucky laughed at that. “Come sit?” Steve asked, leaving his open hand on the table. 

For a moment Bucky thought about saying no, so he wouldn’t have fresh memories of what that felt like, but Steve looked desolate in his hope that Bucky would, and Bucky realised that everything that was happening between them was hurting Steve just as much. So Bucky sat, and twined their fingers together.

“Just while Wanda can handle it,” he said, and Steve squeezed his hand tight. 

--

Dugan had tapped Wanda’s shoulder later that afternoon, all swagger. She put her book down, looking up at him hopefully. “All right, come on then. What am I letting go of,” Dugan drawled, holding out a hand to help her up. Wanda took it, but practically jumped to her feet. 

Bucky looked over his shoulder to where Steve and Gabe had been talking quietly, but they were both watching Dugan now. Gabe had an encouraging smile on his face, while Steve looked like he was going to throw up. 

Wanda went quiet while she worked, and then frowned. “There is- you are holding something tight, but not like James, like- a memory,” she said, and her hands splayed out a little more. Dugan tilted his head at her, and then something like horror dawned in his eyes and he backed away from her, Wanda nearly falling over. 

“No. No, I- No, I need that. Don’t-” Dugan stammered, and Bucky was shocked to see the man who was usually so well put together, so easy going, look so unbelievably terrified. 

“Tim,” Gabe said, going to his side. 

“You have to let it go,” Wanda said softly, holding up her hands, like she was coaxing a wild animal. 

“No, I- I should’ve done something, I should’ve gone back-” Dugan said, staring Wanda down, his whole body shaking.

“Gone back? Where, Tim?” Gabe asked, and Dugan looked at him, the fear turning to a look that was so sad, Bucky felt his gut churn. 

“We- in Poland-” Dugan’s hand came up to cover his face, but Bucky could hear the way his voice caught on his words. “I was keeping watch while you guys set up. And then- above the trees, I saw- I saw-” 

“Black smoke,” Wanda finished for him, and Dugan sobbed, bending in half. 

“I should’ve told them, I should’ve told you, we could’ve- we could’ve gone-” he said, barely managing the words through helpless gasps of breath. 

“Tim, there wasn’t anything you could do, there wasn’t anything we could’ve done,” Gabe said, wrapping his arm tightly around Dugan’s shoulders. “Six guys? Against all of that?” 

“I- we would’ve tried,” Dugan said. 

“We would’ve,” Steve said, and Bucky looked over at him. He was staring at the ground, his hands fists at his side. “Tim, you didn’t have to hold onto that all this time. You don’t deserve to feel that guilt.” 

“I-” Dugan said, but this time Wanda cut him off. 

“He’s right. You don’t. I can feel the memory in you. You didn’t know until much, much later what that smoke was. You had no idea,” she said, sounding firm and fierce. Dugan finally looked up, and Bucky hurt to see his face so torn up by guilt. “And I absolve you of it.” Wanda took a step closer, and put her hand on his shoulder. “My people are Jewish, and Romani. I am of them. And I am telling you, Timothy Dugan, you bear no guilt for this.” 

Dugan crumbled under her hand, and Wanda was quick to wrap him up in her arms. She bore him up like she was twice her size, and Bucky could only sit and stare. Could only watch as someone he thought had no cares was finally freed from a weight he had held up for nearly one hundred years. 

“Thank you.” Dugan’s voice was quieter than Bucky had ever heard him. “I- I can hear my brother. My sisters.” 

“Go on, Tim. Get there before the others drink all the booze out of Heaven’s bar, huh?” Gabe said, and Dugan pulled away from Wanda enough to loop Gabe into a hug. 

“I’ll see you in a minute,” he said, and Gabe let him go, rubbing at his eyes a little, even as he grinned. Dugan saluted him, and then looked over at Steve. “Cap. Thank you.” Steve looked startled, but quickly went to Dugan to hug him too. “You’ll figure it out.” 

“You got a lot of faith in me,” Steve replied, with a sad little smile. 

“Always did. Always will,” Dugan replied, and once he stood apart from Gabe and Steve, golden light exploded out. 

Bucky, like with Dernier, did not feel sad once he looked back and saw the room empty of Dugan. He had carried that for so long, and now could rest. Bucky hoped that wherever he was, he was at peace. 

“Well!” Gabe said, wiping at his eyes with a big smile. He looked at Wanda. “You got one more go in you?” 

“Gabe?” Steve asked, and Bucky heard the tension in his voice before he could even register the way Steve’s whole body was pulled taut. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye again. 

Gabe clapped Steve’s shoulder. “Come on, Cap. They’re waiting for us. Gonna be hell to pay if we keep them there too long, huh?” He joked, and turned back to Wanda. “What do you think?”

“Let’s see what you need,” Wanda said, and stepped up to Gabe, resting a hand on his chest. 

Bucky couldn’t look away from Steve. He got more and more tense, even with how peaceful Gabe looked as Wanda found that one last tether, and Bucky felt like if he looked away, Steve would be gone again. 

“Hmm, that does smell good. What is it?” Wanda asked, and Gabe’s smile was dreamy and slow. 

“My ma’s fresh-baked bread. Did a loaf every morning. Kitchen smelled like that all the time. Wanted to bottle it, take it with me,” he said. 

Wanda looked over at Bucky. “Can you bake?” She asked, looking apologetic. 

Bucky shook his head, but kept looking at Steve. “I can try.” 

“Why are we baking?” Becca asked, appearing in the doorway with her laptop. “Baking what?” 

“Gabe wants fresh-baked bread,” Wanda said, and the fierce determination that appeared on Becca’s face was intimidating. 

“Then he will get fresh-baked bread. I will make bread. I can bread,” she said, and then was gone down the hall to the kitchen, as suddenly as she appeared. “I will bread!” She yelled, and that got a laugh from Gabe, and a look of such affection, before he was following her down. 

Wanda sat back on the couch and picked up her book, curling up so Pietro could read over her shoulder, while Bucky and Steve sat and stood exactly where they were, Steve’s eyes lost and sad, and Bucky’s heart begging him not to give in, not this time. 

--

Becca’s first loaf didn’t rise at all, and she ended up frying the dough so she wouldn’t waste it. She and Wanda picked pieces of it to snack on while Becca went through the recipe again, trying to figure out where she went wrong. The second time, she didn’t kill the yeast like she had the first time, but she did put the oven on too high, and burnt it. 

“Fucking stupid thing,” she grumbled at the loaf. 

“Maybe we should hire a baker,” Bucky joked, watching from the table. Steve leaned in the doorway, his face a blank mask. Bucky was pretending it didn’t bother him. 

“Do you need more help?” Wanda asked, peering over Becca’s arm and poking the burnt loaf. 

“No, and no,” Becca said, throwing a glare over her shoulder. “Bucky, I am going to do this, and Wanda, you do plenty. Gabe wants a loaf, he is getting a damn loaf.” She shoved the burnt bread away, and pulled the mixing bowl from it’s rather permanent place in the wash rack. 

The third time was burnt, and the builders working on the tower outside actually came inside to make sure the house wasn’t burning down. Sif and Val tried to help Becca with the fourth, even though they clearly did not understand Becca’s obsession with bread, but it came out too doughy. Val later admitted to Bucky that she had spiked the mixture as a joke, but Becca’s appalled face when it hadn’t worked made her want to keep that fact to herself. Bucky agreed that she shouldn’t tell Becca, particularly if she wanted to keep the relationship going.

Finally, as the sun was setting, Bucky perked up from where he was knitting in the living room, smelling what could only be fresh bread. “Becca?” He called out. 

“Bucky! BUCKY GET IN HERE I DID THE THING!” Becca screeched, and Bucky dumped his knitting to vault over the back of the sofa, practically skidding in his socks into the kitchen. Becca, in flour stained clothes and her hair a manic mess surrounding her face, pointed frantically at the perfectly risen loaf in the oven. “I DON’T WANT TO TAKE IT OUT, IT’S PERFECT!” She yelled, and Bucky grabbed her in a big hug. 

“YOU DID THE BREAD!” He yelled back, and she laughed, high and fast and a little manic. Bucky held back from asking her if she had taken her meds, and instead let himself feel the joy of his sister and her perfect bit of bread. 

“Becca,” Gabe’s voice said, soft and far away. Bucky let Becca go and span around, to where Gabe stood in the doorway, his eyes closed, breathing in the smell of the bread. “Can you tell her? Can you tell her it’s like home?” He asked. 

“Gabe’s here, Becs,” Bucky said, reaching behind him to squeeze her hand. “He says it smells like home.” 

“I- I’m glad,” Becca said, her voice teary, and Bucky looked back at her, squeezing her hand again when he saw her tearing up. “I’m glad I could give him a bit of home back.” 

“You did, Becca. Now I get to go home,” Gabe said, and opened his eyes to walk a little closer to Becca, Bucky shifting out of the way. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wanda and Steve come in, Wanda coming close enough to rest a hand on Gabe’s back, Steve’s face back in that blank mask. 

Gabe looked over his shoulder to see Wanda, and she smiled encouragingly at him, so he beamed, and turned back to face Becca. He took her other hand, and Becca gasped. “Is- is that him?” She asked, looking at Bucky. He nodded, and she looked through Gabe at Wanda. “He’s there?” 

“He’s here,” she said, smiling, even though she couldn’t see Becca over Gabe. 

Becca let Bucky’s hand go, and reached up carefully, until her hand was cupping Gabe’s cheek. He had looked so at peace, it was almost funny to see the surprise in his eyes. “Ooof. Tall,” Becca said, and Gabe laughed, and bent his knees enough that they were the same height. Becca’s hand felt very carefully up his face, her touch feather light over his eyelids, his brows, until she got to his forehead. She traced her finger across, and then slowly leaned forward, and kissed his brow. “See in the next life, huh?” She said, and Gabe’s eyes closed, and he looked angelic in that moment. 

“See you next time, Becca,” he replied, and then Becca caught Wanda as she fell forward, Bucky blinking the golden light out of his eyes, along with happy tears. 

“Well. That was- that,” Becca said, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand, one arm tight around Wanda. Wanda touched her head gently to Becca’s shoulder, smiling softly. 

“You did good. He was full of love,” Wanda said, and that set Becca off sniffing again, waving her hand over her eyes like that would stop her crying. 

“How’s Steve? He okay?” Becca asked, clearly wanting a moment, so Bucky looked over to where Steve was, to get an answer. 

He wasn’t there. 

“Steve?” Bucky asked, but his heart was already beating hard with fear. He knew where Steve had gone. “Steve?” He tried again, a little louder, begging him to walk in, to prove Bucky wrong, that he hadn’t followed the pull.

“He not there, Buck?” Becca asked, and it was the unsurprised tone in her voice that did Bucky in. 

“I can’t fucking do this again,” he shot out, and walked out of the kitchen, throwing the front doors open when he reached them. It was dark outside, the sun well and truly fallen, but the tower was stark against the night sky, and Bucky hated it. He ignored Becca and Wanda as they called out to him, and kept walking across the courtyard. “Steve! Steve! Don’t do this again!” He shouted, hating the way his voice sounded so strangled. “Stop this! Get back here!” 

“Bucky!” Becca shouted, closer now, but Bucky ignored her again. 

“Steve!” Bucky shouted. The anger was ebbing in him, he could hear the panic giving way to fear, he could feel his throat scratching up as tears began to prick in his eyes. “Stop doing this to me!” He didn’t mean to say that. He wasn’t supposed to- Oh no. Oh god. 

Bucky’s knees gave out with the first stop, and it hurt like fuck when they cracked against the stone, but at least that pain was manageable, would fade. The pain in his chest, the iron band tightening around him, that was all inside him, and there was nothing to cut out, to cover in bandages. He hated this, hated this in between state, where he loved someone so much but needed them to go so badly, where he wanted to hold him close for ever, but knew he couldn’t. 

“Steve, please!” The words came out as more of a screamed plea, even with how breathless he felt, how much his chest felt like it was cracking apart. 

“Bucky, hey, Bucky, I’m here.” Steve’s voice. Cold, insubstantial hands on his face. “Look at me, Bucky, I’m not in there, I’m here.” Bucky shook his head and screwed his eyes tightly closed. If this was a hallucination he wanted to stay here. “Bucky, I’m so sorry, I just needed a moment, I’m here, I’m here, love.” Steve begging, Steve’s cold thumbs stroking along Bucky’s cheekbones. 

“Bucky, he’s here, I promise it is him.” Wanda’s voice. 

“Bucky, babe, it’s okay. He’s here. I got a hand on him too,” Becca said, and Bucky felt a smaller, warmer hand on his back, rubbing down his spine. Becca wouldn’t lie to him, wouldn’t trick him. Wanda wouldn’t. So Bucky did, and tears spilled over his cheeks the second Steve’s face came into view. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” Bucky said, the words punched out from his gut. 

Steve pulled him close, and Bucky hugged him, arms tight around his waist. “I know. I know,” Steve murmured, and Bucky buried his face in his neck. It wasn’t any warmer or more solid than the rest of him, but Bucky could pretend. He had to. 

--

The builders, and even Loki and Hela, seemed to pick up on the strange, mournful mood of the house, and the work the next day was all things they could do without prompting from Bucky or Becca. Bucky spent the whole day in bed with Steve, both on their sides, as close to each other as they could get without touching, talking about anything and everything.

“Was your first kiss a boy or a girl?” Steve asked, and Bucky groaned, as the memory popped into his head. 

“Girl,” he said.

“There’s a story there you are with holding from me,” Steve said, and there was a knowing smirk on his face. Bucky poked his tongue out at him. 

“...it was Becca’s best friend. We were thirteen. Becca hit me with her Bratz doll when she found out, it broke, and she told mum that I had broken it. I was grounded for a week, and my pocket money went to buying her a new one,” Bucky grumped, but couldn’t help the smile as Steve laughed. 

“Becca’s friend! That’s terrible, Buck,” he teased, and Bucky blew a raspberry at him. 

“How about you?” Bucky asked, and Steve frowned as he thought. 

“I think it was my neighbour. She and I were pretty good friends, and I guess I thought that meant I could kiss her,” Steve said, looking guilty. 

“Did she sock you?” Bucky asked. 

Steve nodded emphatically. “Knocked me right on my ass. I was pretty skinny but even so, it was a hell of a punch.” 

“And then you ended up not even liking women!” Bucky laughed. 

“Rude, and a waste of time,” Steve agreed. 

“Who was your first proper kiss then?” Bucky asked. 

Steve smiled ruefully. “His name was Marco. We were eighteen.” 

“You were together?” 

Steve shook his head. “We got together a few times, sure, but Marco was scared to be found out. I didn’t blame him.”

Bucky let the moment sit, but couldn’t let that sadness take over their conversation. “When did you suck a dick for the first time?” 

“Bucky!” Steve said, bursting out into helpless laughter. 

“What? I can’t ask that?” Bucky said, grinning as Steve’s head tipped back helplessly. 

“Just out of the blue, like that, you ass,” Steve said, once he had calmed down enough to talk past his giggles. 

“Okay, then what was your favourite subject at school?” Bucky asked instead. 

“Art.” The answer was immediate. 

“What you like about it?” 

“Taking something ordinary and making it beautiful.” 

“That is...really poetic, Steve.” 

“Had a long time to think about it.”

“Can you answer my other question like that?” 

“I oughta rinse your mouth out with soap.” 

--

The builders were gone for the day, and done for the week. The house was just Bucky, Becca, Wanda, Pietro and Steve. Steve asked for Wanda to come outside with him, and Bucky and Becca watched from the doorway, Becca’s hand tight in Bucky’s. 

Bucky watched Wanda press a hand to Steve’s chest, and watched Steve’s face grow resigned, but determined. He didn’t want to leave, Bucky didn’t want him to leave, but he had to try. 

Bucky’s hand tightened in Becca’s when Wanda’s hand dropped, and she said something to Steve, quiet enough that Bucky couldn’t hear her, but he felt the iron band around his chest reappear when Steve stared down at her, frowning, and then looked up with a gasp, like he’d realised something, and it wasn’t good. 

“Steve?” He called out, and Steve looked over at him. His eyes had a glint of desperation. Bucky was walking towards him before he’d made the decision. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

Wanda turned around to face him, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “He’s- his tether, it’s complicated,” she said. 

“It’s okay, Wanda. Tell him,” Steve said. 

Wanda sighed sadly. “Steve’s tether was the others, keeping them safe, but now it is you, Bucky.” Bucky felt the words like a blow to his chest. “So, what would let him move on, on his own, would be if you...went too.” 

“So, Steve can only be free, if I’m dead?” Bucky said, his voice taking on the dream-like quality he’d heard the ghosts have, though they had sounded at peace. Bucky’s was full of dawning horror. “Is- is it because he brought me back?”

“I- I do not think so, but if Steve can reach across the planes of existence, but cannot hear the beyond, I- I don’t know. I have never encountered such a thing,” Wanda said, worrying her hands. 

“I have such a tether, but Wanda tied us together. She was afraid to be without me,” Pietro said. 

“I would free you if I knew you would be safe,” Wanda mumbled, sounding guilty. Pietro wrapped his arms around her, pressing his head to hers. 

“Why wouldn’t Pietro be safe?” Bucky asked, and Wanda gestured between her and her brother.

“Because of the tether. When I help a ghost move on, I undo their tether enough so that they float. I cannot undo one that is tied to someone’s life without hurting the living person. And if I was to snap it, there is no light. There is no peaceful acceptance. They- I do not know if they move on,” she said. 

“So...is Steve stuck here?” Becca asked, and Bucky felt relief and horror smash into each other inside of him, making a messy churn of emotions that made him feel sick. Wanda nodded, and Bucky looked at Steve helplessly. Some deranged part of his brain wanted to ask him to make it better, to fix it, but what could Steve do that Wanda couldn’t?

“Do it,” Steve said, and Bucky’s heart just about stopped. 

That. Ask for Wanda to snap the tether anyway. 

“Steve, I do not know what happens-” Wanda started, but Steve cut her off. 

“I know what happens if I stay here. I watch Bucky’s heart break in real time, I get to have moments of time where I can hold him, while the rest of it he keeps himself away from me, so he doesn’t hurt me. I go back to the tower, again and again and again. I’ll take the risk,” Steve said. 

“Steve-” Bucky started, knowing he was right but wanting to try and convince him otherwise. 

“Bucky, I love you, and if I love you, I have to stop making you wait. I have to stop hurting you. This is my choice,” Steve said, and Bucky’s words died in his throat. He sniffed instead, biting down on his cheek to stop himself crying. He nodded, and Steve looked back to Wanda. “Can I say goodbye? Will that be too much?” He asked. 

Wanda just took his hand, holding it tight. Steve gripped back, smiling gratefully. He held out his other hand to Bucky, his smile softer and sadder when directed at him. “Come here, sweetheart,” he said, and Bucky let Becca’s hand go to take his, storing the feeling of Steve’s cold hands in his heart, to remember when things like this could be happy. 

Then Steve tugged him closer, enough that Bucky bumped up against him, looked long at his face, like he was drinking in the sight of him, and then ducked his head enough to have their lips meet. Bucky kissed him back, hard as he could, his hand going up to cup Steve’s face, screwing his eyes tight. Under the same coldness, Bucky could almost feel how soft Steve’s lips were, and it was so unfair, in that moment, that Bucky didn’t know if he was imagining it or not. 

Steve pulled away slowly, but kept his brow pressed to Bucky’s. “I love you,” he said. It sounded like goodbye. 

“I love you,” Bucky said, a little too forcefully, but he couldn’t let his tears blur out his words. They were important, he wanted Steve to take them with him. 

Steve dropped his hand, and Bucky opened his eyes, watching as Steve took one step back, as if going to a safe distance, Wanda’s hand still tight in his. He didn’t take his eyes off Bucky, even when Wanda stepped in front of him. 

“I hope you go somewhere safe and warm, Steve,” Wanda said, resting her other hand on his chest. 

Steve smiled. “Thank you, Wanda. For everything, and from everyone.” 

Wanda made a sad little noise, and then her hand rested back on Steve’s chest. It was happening. Bucky was about to watch Steve disappear, for the last time. Part of him wanted to look away, but the other, louder part knew he wanted to stay, knew that he couldn’t look away, even if it was hurting like a stab wound. 

Wanda pulled her hand back slightly, and Bucky could see something like a gold strand in her fingers. He had barely a moment to admire it wonderingly, and then she made one, sharp tug, and Steve-

Steve was gone. The gold thread in Wanda’s hand disappeared too, but Steve- there had been no flash of light. The courtyard was just empty of him. 

“Did- did it work?” Becca asked. 

Wanda nodded, but didn’t turn back around. “He is gone,” she said, leaning back into Pietro’s arms, sounding tired and sad. 

“Bucky? You- you okay?” Becca’s hand curled around Bucky’s elbow, and Bucky turned into her, tucking himself in as close as possible. “I’m so sorry, Bucky,” Becca said, sounding like she was crying too. 

Bucky just let the dam break, let himself mourn for something that he never really had, but still felt the loss of. 

--

Becca stayed in Bucky’s bed with him that night, but Bucky was awake after only a few hours sleep. He’d managed to cry himself into unconsciousness, but now the bed, even though Becca was in it, was too full of memories for him to stay. He slowly slid himself out, slipped his feet into slippers, and crept out into the hall. 

The house was quiet, empty. He could feel it as much as hear it, the way the oldest residents were gone. Bucky felt the loneliness keenly, and slipped outside, into the courtyard to escape it. 

The tower was less foreboding in the early dawn light, or maybe it was just that it no longer held Steve, trapping him. Maybe Steve had stepped into it willingly, but it was a trap anyway. 

Without really thinking about it, Bucky started walking towards it. Tears were building in his eyes again, and he wondered how he still had any moisture left in his body by that point. He swiped at his eyes, and kept walking. He would go in, through the hole in the wall that the builders had opened, and he would look in. He would see and hear it was empty. He could cry and scream and mourn, but he would know for sure that Steve was gone. He was finally, finally at peace, and he could forever be beautiful in Bucky’s mind. 

His coat caught on the stones as he made his way in, and he patted the wall as he freed his coat. “Hi there, Jacques’ girl,” he said, smiling to himself. He pulled himself through the rest of the way, and had a moment of deja vu at seeing the window beaming weak sunlight into the room, and it was like Steve’s hazy form was caught in it once more. “Never again,” he told himself, and then closed his eyes, waiting. 

For a moment, there was nothing but silence, and Bucky knew that would’ve been the case, but still felt the combined pain of hope and grief rip through his heart. 

And then he was startled out of his quiet moment by a voice, shouting from below, coming up through a decently sized hole in the floor. “Hey! Is someone there?” It said, and for a dizzying moment Bucky was convinced he’d dreamed it. Then he scrambled over to the hole, and peered down into the darkness, shifting a little so the light from the window could light up a small part of it. 

“Hey! You okay in there?” Bucky called down, and heard a gasp of amazement. 

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice said, and Bucky was definitely dreaming. There was no way in hell that Steve was-

There. Stepping into the sunbeam, a little worn and tired, but grinning up at him, his mouth red and his skin golden, pulsing with life. He was also entirely naked, his hands over his dick, but it was just another way he was so completely different to the Steve Bucky had said goodbye to last night. 

“Steve?” Bucky’s voice was barely a whisper, but Steve heard him, and let out a happy sob, his blue eyes completely happy and bright.

“It’s me. I- I guess I got another go?” He said, his voice sounding a little rough. From disuse? From the emotion that Bucky was definitely seeing pour out of him? 

“You- it didn’t work?” Bucky asked, still mostly sure that he was dreaming. 

Steve laughed, shaking his head. “Bucky. Look at me. Really look. It worked.” 

So Bucky did what dream-Steve told him to, and really looked. Yes, Steve was clearly very attractive here, chiselled golden muscle that was flushing a bright, happy pink the longer Bucky looked, but there was also a few tiny scratches here and there, some dirt still smeared on his body, and his feet were practically black with filth. 

He was dirty, and scratched, and practically oozing life. Bucky gaped at him. 

“Are- are you alive?” He asked, sounding delirious. 

“I’m alive! I’m here!” Steve shouted back. 

“You’re naked!” Bucky said, reality breaking around him. 

“Yeah, my uh...my clothes did not come back with me!” Steve said, grinning, flashing bright, white teeth, and Bucky blinked. 

“Steve!” He shouted again, suddenly vibrating with energy. “Wait, holy shit, how do we get you out?” 

“A ladder? Do we have one?” Steve asked, and Bucky thought with partial despair, but most panic, that no, no they did not. 

“I don’t know! I’ll find one! I’ll- fucking shit, I’ll ask Becca. Wait! Becca will be able to see you!” Bucky said, dawning comprehension on him. 

“You should probably get me some pants before she does. This is not the proper impression I want to make!” Steve called up, managing to gesture with his shoulders at his state of undress.

“No, Steve! She can see you! She will be able to see you!” Bucky said, and Steve laughed again. God, the sound was so much better now. 

“Yes! All of me!” Steve replied, and Bucky jumped to his feet. 

“I’ll be back! I’ll be back, just- wait, don’t go anywhere!” Bucky said, and ran to the hole he came through, before darting back to look down, and Steve laughed. “I mean it!”

“I promise, I will be here, exactly the same, when you come back!” Steve said. 

“I will be so furious if you are a hallucination!” Bucky threatened, and Steve’s grin became shark-like.

“Don’t think my hands would be covering my unmentionables if I was just a figment of your imagination, Buck! Or trapped in a hole,” Steve said, and Bucky wanted to throw something at him, or jump on him. He can do both, once Steve is out. He will do both, once he gets Steve out. 

“I’ll be back! I’ll be right back!” Bucky promised, and then left the tower for real, bellowing Becca’s name as he went. He slammed back into the house, the antithesis to how he had crept out earlier, and he saw Wanda poke her head out from the living room, rubbing sleep from her eyes. 

“Bucky? What is-” Wanda asked, but he would go back and explain later to her, he had to get Becca first. He would also kiss Wanda’s cheek and give her the biggest, hardest hug in the world, but first-

“Becca! Get up, get up!” Bucky burst through his bedroom door, and immediately went to his drawers, tearing apart the pants draw to find his largest pair of track pants.

“Fucking christ, Buck, where’s the fire?” Becca said, blearily, staring at Bucky like he’d gone mad. Maybe he had. Maybe he’d drag Becca back to Steve and she would just see an empty hole.

“Becca, Steve’s alive. He’s in the tower, and he’s alive-” Bucky started.

“Bucky, he’s...I know that it just happened for you, but he-” Becca tried to cut in, but Bucky, having closed his hands on the pants he was looking for, merely spun to face her, take her hand and pull her out of bed.

“Look, it’s going to sound ridiculous no matter what I say, just come with me. He’s alive. He’s naked, I have to bring him pants. Do we have a ladder?” Bucky started rattling off, dragging a stumbling Becca behind him.

“No, I don’t think- he’s naked?” Becca said, sounding less concerned and more confused as Bucky pulled her along the hall. Wanda had a look of deep confusion on her face, and was trying to look past Bucky to Becca, her eyebrows raised in question. 

“Steve’s alive! Wanda, Steve’s alive!” Bucky called out, and immediately Wanda’s eyes widened, and then she looked down at her hands. “Come on, come with me, but wait until he has pants on to look at him, he’s naked.” 

“He...he’s alive and naked?” Wanda asked, with the same tone Becca had, but then Pietro appeared through the wall, looking frantically happy, and grabbed his sister. “Pietro, wha-”

“Steve is alive and naked! Wanda! He is alive!” Pietro practically shouted, jumping up and down on the spot. 

Wanda’s mouth dropped open, and then she was tearing out the door to the tower, Bucky and Becca quickly following behind her. She was through the hole in the wall before them, and Bucky heard her cry of surprise and happiness. “You are naked!” She said, and Bucky heard Steve’s pleased, if embarassed laughter. 

“Who- who is laughing in there?” Becca asked, and Bucky could cry for happiness. She could hear him. Becca could hear him!

“Steve! I’m back with pants, I’m working on the ladder!” He called out, rushing out of the opening and heading back to the hole in the floor, Wanda kneeling on the edge with her eyes closed. Bucky leaned over and saw Steve, his whole body blushing. “I also brought Becca.” 

“Oh, good! Now both of the ladies can see me naked,” Steve griped, but he was smiling too hard, and Bucky was too happy. 

“Holy fucking shit, there’s a naked man down there!” Becca yelped, and Bucky burst out into laughter. “Oh my god! Bucky! There’s a naked man down there!” 

“Hi Becca! Nice to officially meet you!” Steve said, wiggling his shoulder in an attempt at a wave. Bucky could practically hear Becca’s jaw crack with how wide her mouth dropped open. 

“Bucky’s Steve? Steve Rogers Steve?” She demanded, and Steve nodded, his body shaking as he tried not to join in with Bucky’s near hysterical laughter. “Bucky! Your Steve is there! He’s naked!” 

“I was promised pants, Buck!” Steve said pointedly, and Bucky threw them down to him, grinning at him when he caught them around his neck. “Turn around! All of you!” 

“What, even me?” Bucky protested. 

“The first time I am naked in front of you, fully naked, will be much sexier than this, Bucky. Turn around!” Steve ordered, and Bucky did as he was told, giggling deliriously. Becca met his eyes, mouthing ‘how?’ at him. Bucky shrugged, waving a hand around. He felt high. He felt stupid. It was the nicest thing in the whole world. “Okay! I am sort of decent!” 

Bucky, Becca and Wanda peered over the edge of the hole again, and Steve waved at them with his hands. “Jesus Christ, Steve, those are my biggest pants,” Bucky said, staring at how hard they were straining around Steve’s thighs. 

“Bucky, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you are a lot smaller than me,” Steve said seriously. Or, he tried to, but still looked terribly smug about it. 

“How are we gonna get you out? We need to do it before the builders get here.” Becca looked up so she could peer around the room. 

“They will probably have a ladder,” Bucky pointed out. 

“You wanna try and explain the half-naked barefoot man in the hole in the floor to them?” Becca shot back, and Bucky had to concede her point. 

“Could we try and pull you up? It’s not too far up,” Bucky suggested, and Steve looked between him and Becca worriedly. 

“I’m really heavy, guys,” he said, frowning with concern. Bucky was going to kiss the crinkle between his eyebrows. 

“How about if we just get you to the edge? Could you pull yourself up?” Becca amended. “The only other thing I can think of is tying a bunch of sheets together or something.” 

Steve’s face turned even more worried, but after looking around at his level, he sighed. “Okay. But drop me if I’m too heavy, okay? I’d rather say that I am a crazy man that fell in a hole to Thor than hurt you guys.” 

“I’m not going to drop you-” Bucky argued, but Steve glared at him. 

“You will, Bucky, because if I am too heavy you won’t be able to pull me up anyway,” he said hotly, and Bucky liked hearing him argue back, hearing him and knowing Becca could hear him too, it was enough to make him dizzy. 

“Okay, deal for me,” Becca said, and lay down on her stomach, reaching one hand down as far as she could. Bucky was quick to copy her, and Steve reached up with both of his hands, and Bucky felt another round of tears start as Steve’s big, warm, calloused hand curled around his wrist. 

“Okay. You ready?” Steve asked. 

“Yep. On three?” Becca turned to Bucky, who nodded. “Okay. One, two, three-!” Becca and Bucky pulled up, and immediately Bucky realised that Steve had not been kidding. “Jesus fuck, are you weighed down with rocks?” Becca groaned, and Bucky felt Steve’s hand loosen slightly around his wrist.

“No, you don’t-” Bucky grabbed him with his other hand, and pulled twice as hard. 

“Bucky!” Steve warned, but Becca followed Bucky’s lead and with a few seconds of groaning effort, Steve’s hands were within reach of the ledge. “Okay, Becca, let go,” Steve said, and Bucky barely felt the full weight of Steve for a moment before his hand was on the edge. “Buck, need my hand back, baby.” 

Bucky pouted, playing at it, but genuinely felt like if he let Steve go, he would actually wake up alone, in bed. He let it go anyway, immediately grabbing at Becca instead, who held his hand just as tightly. 

Then any apprehension drained away, the second he got to see the absolute majesty of Steve hauling himself up and out gracefully, swinging onto his feet with ease, and unfurling himself to his full height. Bucky’s mouth went dry. He was going to climb him. He could climb him. 

“Hi, guys,” Steve said, and made a little ‘oof’ sound when Wanda collided into him, wrapping around him tightly. He just laughed, and picked her up, hugging her tightly. Her feet dangled adorably. Bucky was going to cry, again, and honestly he was going to have to drink a gallon of water. 

“Put her down! I want a turn!” Becca declared, letting Bucky go and leaping on Steve when Wanda was back on her feet, wiping at her eyes. Bucky could relate to both of them. “You are like, seriously built,” Becca said, and Steve laughed, picking her up as easily as he had Wanda. 

“So I can pick people up, spin ‘em around easy,” Steve joked. 

“Obviously,” Becca said, and grinned up at him once he put her back down. “Okay, we got me and Wanda out of the way, Bucky’s turn now.” 

Steve’s grin turned bashful, hope lighting up his eyes. “How about it, Buck?” He asked, and what kind of monster would say no to that? 

Bucky didn’t even have it in him to tease, to draw it out. He just walked up to Steve, grabbed his beautiful, beautiful face, and pulled his red lips to his. Steve’s noise of surprised was squeaky and muffled, and then his arms were around Bucky’s waist, picking him up too, squeezing him tight. Bucky just kissed him harder, then dotted more around his face, memorising the warm of him, blotting out the cold he had associated him with, before pressing their lips back together.