To Build a Home

My Girl

Summary: I've got sunshine on a cloudy day.

You had the playlist playing all morning. When you were in the shower, he could hear your soft voice singing along as he rocked Rebecca in his arms. He could do this, he could absolutely do this. Wiping at the small glob of spit up on her chin with the stained cloth. Giving her tummy a small tickle. Her bare feet give a stretch, tiny toes spreading out as she yawns against him. Wide eyes stare up at him with a confused expression. Smiling gently as she wraps her fingers around his index finger. Such a strong grip for something so tiny.

Bucky can hear you swearing in the bathroom, it makes him smile as you rush out in a green towel. Digging through the small dresser for your clothes. You chance a look back at him as you hurry. He kicks his legs up on the coffee table, socked feet giving a little wiggle.

"Think you'll be okay?" You ask from the bathroom

He looks at the little girl in his arms. A series of panicked thoughts hit him, but he forces out, "Yeah, we'll be fine."

Your head peeks around the door, "I mean, I can take her with me."

Rebecca hiccups, gurgles, kicks her feet out. Lips smack together as she pulls a tired hand up to her face.

Bucky raises his brows as he tilts his head to the side, "You really want to carry her around for your appointment?" Your mouth gapes at the thought. "Baby, I promise we'll be fine. You just fed her anyway."

Leaning against the door with a fallen expression, "Yeah, I just - I've never been away from her yet."

Shifting her into his other arm, he tries to give a confident smile; biting back his own uncertainty, "It's what, maybe an hour for the whole thing? You'll be back in no time."

You give a little nod, force yourself to finish getting dressed. He relaxes into the cushions, wiggles a finger for her to grab onto. After a good deal of kisses and reminders for him, you head out for your six-week checkup. And then it's just him and Rebecca.

Bucky hums softly as she pats his chest with a wandering little hand. Alpine stands up on his hind legs to nudge his face against Bucky's legs, swooping under them, tail brushing against his hand. Time seems to stand still. With you gone, all the run around from the morning to get out of the apartment in time, it's just slowed right down.

Rebecca lets out a little whimper.

"Hey," He coos, "None of that."

She gives a breathy little exhale, lip quivering just slightly.

Kicking his legs off the table and onto the floor, he stands up. Keeping her snug against him with well-practiced ease. He moves his left hand under her for more support, swaying slowly to the music playing.

"What would your mom think if she knew you'd been crying for me?"

She blows a bubble in reply. Long fingers entwining over her chest.

What a world away from where he had been. The broken man on a river bank would never imagine this life for himself. He had been molded in metal and darkness for so long. Mind not his own. Memories deeply secured far from his reach. He had been on the run for so long. From Mexico to Senegal to Spain then Romania. Running from them, running from his past. Seeking his memories, seeking out an existence. Even then, he was just content to be alone. No one should have to be with this, this broken creature.

Oh, how the wheel of life had turned. The metal melted, the darkness gave way to rays of light. And through all of that, finding you and your open arms? He still couldn't picture this for himself. This beautiful bundle of joy and wonder.

He finds himself grateful that she can fall asleep so easily right now. Rocking in your arms, a car ride, sometimes just on your shoulder. Her eyes are heavy-lidded, but she's trying to fight it with frustrated little groans. Hands rubbing her face with growing irritation. He strides to the other side of the coffee table, giving himself more room to move. Swaying to the softer song, he finds himself humming along to it.

I've got sunshine on a cloudy day.

You had introduced him to this genre. Finding himself at a loss when it came to music, only remembering bits and pieces of big band ensembles and wartime love songs. This stuff seemed to fit, it was the closest sound to what used to play in the dance halls. Whatever was on the radio? That stuff was still too out there for him to get into. But this? He could move to this, he could twirl you around and rest his cheek against yours as you sang it to him.

When it's cold outside I've got the month of May.

Rebecca settles down, giving him a sleepy look. Blue eyes growing tired, eyelashes fluttering closed.

So perfect. So small and beautiful and perfect. She was the most beautiful babe. She fit perfectly in his arms. She was adorable. She was everything. Absolutely, everything. When she woke up with cranky cries. When she kicked him with each diaper change. The disgusting gushes of spit down his back after feeds. That look in her eyes that made him think she was wise beyond her years. The soft little grunts when you had her on her stomach on the colorful playmat. The little sounds she made when she smacked her lips like she was ready to start talking to him. The look of pure peace that was on her face whenever she slept in his arms.

I guess you say, "What can make me feel this way?"

He could ease her down into her crib right now. He'd done it so many times before. But not today. Today he's going to hold her close and simply breathe. His arms never grow tired of holding her. He could just look at her all day, every day, for the rest of his life.

Sleeping soundly now, he moves back to the couch. Resting his body against the armrest, feet kicked up on the cushions. He shifts his hold, moving her to lay on his shoulder. A warm hand rubbing gentle circles on her back as she sighs in her sleep.

Bucky lets himself close his eyes. Letting the soft and gentle warmth of his daughter on his chest lull him off to a light sleep.

My girl (My girl, my girl). Talking 'bout my girl (my girl).