It was never of a question of Bucky wanting kids, he did. He loved everything about them; the richness of their laugh, the sparkle in their eyes, the indescribable scent on the top of their head. He couldn't wait to have a few of them running around. But that was then, before the war and the super soldier serum, before he was an assassin under HYDRA's control.
And then Y/N came along, bright-eyed, loving, and optimistic. She accepted him for who he was, metal arm and all. She made him feel safe and secure, like a human being and not someone... something to be used for an evil agenda. Despite all of that, Bucky didn't feel exactly like he did before everything happened. So when Y/N told him she was pregnant, Bucky panicked. What if something happened and he ended up hurting the baby? What if he lost control of his arm and ended up doing more than just harming the child? It was enough to drive a sane man crazy.
Bucky would like to say that all of his fears disappeared once his son was born, but he'd be lying. If anything, his fears multiplied. In his mind, it was no longer a matter of what if something were to go wrong, but when something would go wrong. It was like a kick from Steve in the gut whenever she offered their child to Bucky.
'You won't hurt him, Buck. Please try.'
But Bucky wouldn't... couldn't do it. No matter how badly he wanted to hold his growing son, it wasn't a risk he was willing to take. So he stood back and hovered, watching everything Y/N did, asking a thousand and one questions, dropping kisses to James's silky chestnut curls. Anything and everything short of holding his son.
And then one night, everything changed. James had started teething and was completely unbearable. He was up most of the night screaming and ornery all day; it was taking a toll on Y/N.
It was around 3am when the shrill screams of James erupted through the baby monitor; Y/N didn't even move. Without a second thought, Bucky rolled out of bed, turned off the monitor, and crept out of the room. James was rubbing at his wet eyes and screaming, stopping briefly when Bucky peeked over the railing.
'What'sa matter, huh?' Pudgy arms shot up and James wiggled his fingers back and forth, grunting impatiently at his father.
After a quick diaper check, Bucky popped James on his hip and padded down the hall. Before even stepping foot into the living area, James was gnawing on Bucky's metallic fingers. 'Keep that up and I'm gonna rust, little man.' James echoed his father's dry chuckle.
Bucky sat on the couch with James propped on his thighs; metal hand in his son's mouth, flesh one pressed firmly against his back. James babbled happily while drool rolled down Bucky's forearm, dripping off his elbow. How Bucky ever thought that he could hurt his own son, even on a subconscious level, was beyond him.
A loud yawn from his son pulled Bucky from his thoughts. 'You tired? Should we go to bed?' Back in his son's room, Bucky tried setting him into the crib, but James started to cry as he gripped at the collar of Bucky's t-shirt. "Shhh, shhh, shhh. It's alright, bud. How about we lie down together?"
Not wanting to disturb Y/N from her well-deserved slumber, Bucky grabbed a teddy bear and took James into the guest room. After making a wall of pillows on the side where James would be, Bucky climbed into bed with his son, the bear between them. For a while, father and son stared at each other. James babbled incoherently, obviously excited about finally having some one-on-one time with Bucky. He was completely enamored with the smooth and drool-slicked metal of his father's arm and hand; gnawing on the thick digits where his teeth were bothering him the most. And Bucky... well he couldn't believe that he had anything to do with the child in front of him. He thought he had been lucky when Y/N returned his affections. But becoming a father? Shit. There was nothing like it. Even after James fell asleep, Bucky watched over his son. Part of him feared that James would roll off the bed, despite the mountain of pillows. The other part feared that he would roll onto his son and suffocate him.
The sun woke you, peering in through the half-open blinds, its warmth making you uncomfortably warm. And then it hit you. James hadn't cried all night. Something had to be wrong. You jumped out of bed in a panic and ran into the nursery. The crib was empty. Shitshitshit! You ran back and found that Bucky was gone, too. While that wasn't completely out of the ordinary, your mind jumped to the worst case scenario. Heart hammering in your chest and tears pricking your eyes, you clumsily grabbed your phone and managed to call Steve.
'They're gone, they're both gone, Steve,' panic tore at your voice, making it almost unrecognizable.
'Y/N?'
'I... I can't find Bucky or James.'
You could hear Steve run a hand over his face and mumble something. 'When was the last time you saw them?'
Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as you stood and paced. 'L- la- last night. James has been teething and... and not sleeping. Steve, he's just a baby.'
'Hey, it's ok. Now tell me, have you looked in every room?'
Swallowing at the large lump in your throat, you shook your head. 'N- no.'
'Why don't you do that. I'll stay on the phone with you, but I'm on my way, ok?'
Now in the hall, your hand was shaking as you reached out for the door to the spare bedroom. And that's when you heard the unmistakable sounds of Bucky's snores. You pushed the door open slowly, careful to keep it from creaking, and found exactly who you were running around trying to find.
'Never mind, Steve, they're here,' you whispered. 'I'm sorry I panicked over nothing.' Steve breathed a sigh of relief before telling you not to worry about it. You stood beside the bed and watched as they slept, a warm smile pulling at your lips. They were sharing a pillow and the bear from Wanda was between them. James was curled around it, his forehead resting on his father's slightly parted lips. Bucky had his arm draped over his son, metal hand hanging limp on the small of his back, ready to pat him gently if he were to stir.
As badly as you wanted to climb into bed with them, you didn't want to risk waking them. You dropped a kiss to Bucky's temple and padded quietly out of the room, closing the door behind you. Having slept all night, you felt refreshed, still a bit tired, but not enough to go and lie back down. You wandered into the kitchen and set about making coffee and breakfast for yourself. For the first time in six months, you were able to have a quiet breakfast.
