Beyond Saving Bucky

"Is it scrumptiously crunchable?"

Nat's POV:

The next three days passed with a quiet rhythm that was almost comforting in its simplicity. Liv's condition had improved quite a bit, which was the best news we could hope for. Her color was coming back, her feedings were increasing in size, and her output was steady. Steve hardly left her side, his presence in the medbay becoming a constant. I'd drop by to check on them, catching glimpses of him in moments that would stick with me long after I walked away.

He'd sit beside her bed, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, holding Bucky's worn copy of The Hobbit. His voice was low, soothing as he read to her, lingering on every word as if each one was a promise he'd made to her. There was something in the way he read, as if he was trying to pull her back to him with the familiar cadence of the story.

This particular day, something felt different. Maybe it was the stillness in the air, or the way Steve seemed more hopeful than usual as he sat beside Liv's bed, reading aloud from The Hobbit. I had decided to join him, setting myself up on the opposite side of the bed with a small bottle of nail polish. Black—Liv's favorite. I opted to make one single nail on each hand red, knowing when she does wake up and sees them, she will know I was there.

Steve's voice filled the room, steady and calm as he read through one of the lighter chapters. His deep tones were a comforting presence, and I could see how much he wanted his voice to reach her, to stir something inside her that would bring her back to us. As he read, I focused on gently painting Liv's nails, careful not to jostle her too much. It was a small thing, but it made me feel like I was helping in some way.

Then Steve's voice took on a strange tone, almost hesitant, as he read the next line.

"Is it nice, my preciousss? Is it juicy? Is it scrumptiously crunchable?'"

I froze mid-stroke, the brush hovering just above Liv's nail. I blinked, then slowly looked up at Steve. He seemed just as taken aback, his brows furrowed in confusion as he stared at the page.

"Did you just read what I think you read?" I asked, my voice tinged with amusement and a little disbelief.

Steve's gaze met mine, and I could see he was just as bewildered as I was. "Yeah," he replied, his voice slightly incredulous. "That's... what it says."

I couldn't help but shake my head, a smirk pulling at the corner of my mouth. "That's... a weird phrase," I said, the words tumbling out in a mix of amusement and mild disgust. "Who talks like that?"

Steve chuckled, the tension in the room easing a little. "Gollum, apparently," he replied, trying to hide his own grin. "I mean, I get that he's... unique, but that's definitely... something."

I rolled my eyes, laughing softly as I dipped the brush back into the polish. "Scrumptiously crunchable? Really? That's the best he could come up with?"

His laughter trailed off for a moment, and I glanced up to find his eyes on me, an expression of confusion, almost shock, crossing his face.

"Did she just...did I hear..." Steve began, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid to say it too loudly, afraid that he might have imagined it.

I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face as I nodded, feeling a surge of warmth rush through me. "Yeah," I said, my voice filled with something I hadn't felt in days—hope. "She just giggled."

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. The sound had been faint, barely there, but it was real. We both heard it. A soft, breathy giggle, like Liv was there with us, hearing Steve's story, and finding the humor in it just like she always did.

Steve's eyes were wide, the book forgotten in his lap as he leaned forward, his hand instinctively reaching for Liv's. "Liv...?" he murmured, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. His voice was thick with emotion, as if that one small sound had given him all the hope he needed to keep going.

I watched him, feeling a lump rise in my throat. There was no other movement from Liv, no other sound, but that giggle—God, that little giggle—it was enough to light a spark in both of us.