Safe Haven | B. Barnes

night time

Bucky wandered around the house, eerily walking with light steps. He found two doors leading to the back; good escape hatches.

He also managed to find a few hiding places should they need to hide in the house.

When Sam announced that they would be staying with Marge for a few days, both supersoldiers glanced warily at each other. After much protesting and honest reasoning from the men out of time, Marge would hear none of it and had them stay in three of the five spare bedrooms spread about the house. 

So here he was, meandering about the house at such an ungodly hour of the morning, gracefully sidestepping and dodging furniture until he came to the couch he sat at about a day ago. He paused, looking at the eerie atmosphere that was lit by the full moon's light. It was much warmer and inviting when the kids were out and about.

Finally deciding to sit down, he leaned forward, wary of the squeaky springs under the couch as they whined under his weight. All the walking was a good distraction from his ever haunting thoughts that relentlessly plagued him in the midst of the silence.

However, before he could prepare himself for the onslaught of unspeakable horrors, a muffled thump was heard above. He ignored it, perhaps Steve fell off the bed again. But then came the undeniable sound of a door opening.

Bucky filtered air out of his nose and anticipated what would happen next. Much to his surprise, however, there was almost no sound at first. Then he heard it.

A soft, incoherent childlike voice was heard. It was shaky, scared as a sharp inhalation of breath was heard not pausing from whatever song was being sung. When the voice stopped moving and began to sound choppy, as if the child was taking an effort to move, Bucky strained to hear what it was.

It still sounded incoherent, but the tone was stronger. Then it stopped completely.

Now, Bucky wasn't one to think of spirits and such, but he felt goosebumps on his only arm form.

It was quiet for a long while. Perhaps the child fell asleep or went back to their room.

Sniffling quickly erased that theory. Whoever it was, they began moving again this time down the stairs. Bucky turned his head to see who it was.

For some reason, he wasn't surprised to see it was Angeline. She always seemed to find a way to come to him, one way or another. This time it was accidental. Angie's small form moved as silently as he would in stealth mode as she walked to the living room.

She was crying and, again not surprisingly, holding her Black Widow doll by its plastic arm. Angie must've not noticed Bucky before because when she wiped her eyes and looked up, she looked like she was about to scream. Her mouth was gaping wide and her small body rigid. She began breathing rapidly as her mouth began to open and close like a fish out of water.

The moonlight shining on his back didn't help show his face, but she relaxed anyways when she saw the shiny stub. "Angie? What are you doing here?" The ex-assassin asked softly as the girl tottled awkwardly around the table and hoisted herself next to the strange yet comforting man. "I can't sleep, Mr. Bucky. You can't sleep either can you?" Angie wiggled her little butt to situate herself comfortably next to Bucky. 

Bucky didn't answer. Instead, both scarred souls sat in a comforting silence until the sun began to peak over the horizon. When little Angie noticed the deep orange rays of light coming up for the start of a new day, she suppressed a yawn. "Are you sleepy now?" Bucky gently pushed his arm against her. Angie, not being prepared for Bucky's nudge, had tipped over and almost fell off the couch.

Instead of crying like he expected her to do, or start running away from him like he wanted to happen, she sat right back up and for once she beamed at him. She shoved back with all her little might, but it felt like a small nudge to the super soldier.

Bucky couldn't help but grin back. He pushed her again, not too strong of course but she stood her ground and, giggling softly, she shoved back just like before. He let out a deep chuckle that could be felt as Angie sorely attempted to shove harder, and leaned on her slightly, enough so she can't escape but not enough to hurt her.

Perhaps, under most circumstances, Angie would've been screaming for help. But this wasn't to hurt her as she found out. The big man was just playing around.

She squealed softly and happily, causing Bucky's grin to stretch into a small smile. She tried with little success to push the scarred veteran upright. Bucky snickered quietly and suddenly leaned over to the opposite side causing Angie to practically fall against his shoulder.

This would've continued had Steve and Sam not clambered down the steps, trying not to wake the rest of the house.

They were dressed to go out on a run.

"So did you come down here to sleep?" Steve asked with a happy grin on his face. Bucky's once light mood fell back to a dark oppressed expression.

"Couldn't sleep," Bucky said and stood up. Angie too slid off the couch and began running back upstairs, leaving the men alone.

"We're gonna go on a run. Wanna come?" Steve asked and pointed to the door with his thumb. Bucky shook his head, "Not today. Maybe I'll go tomorrow." He declined and walked passed them on his way up the stairs.

By the time he finished getting ready, he felt a little better. Since the time he escaped Hydra and went on his own, Bucky established routines helped him feel better. It gave him a sense of normalcy and comfort when he knew what to do next.

And the best part was, there were no orders to follow and he could think for himself without someone breathing down his neck.

Bucky sighed and prepared to wait. He waited about an hour or so for the kids to stop using the bathroom closest to him so he could shower.

When the opportunity came and he double checked to make sure they were done and gone, he went to take a shower. After that he changed into the third and last pair of clean clothes he had and lightly brushed his hair, promising himself that he was going to get it cut in the near future.

He felt much better and went downstairs to see if Marge needed help with anything.

"Good morning, Mr. Barnes. How are you today?" Marge asked politely as she began picking up the table when the children rushed to catch the school bus. Bucky nodded, "I'm fine."

He paused and wondered what to say next.

Do I ask how she's doing?

Do I say something else?

What did Steve say I should do?

What would Sam say?

What do I do?

"How about yourself?" Bucky finally asked after a long moment passed. Marge smiled without looking up and responded with a polite, "I'm doing well.

"Would you mind helping me pick up the table? I'd do it but my I must've slept wrong last night and my back hurts." She asked as she was halfway done with the table and her progress was slowing.

Bucky didn't hesitate to do so. Its the least he could do since she gave the three of them a roof to sleep under and her protection to give.

Using his one arm to balance as many dishes as he could carry, he took two trips just clearing the table, plates, spoons, bowls, cups.

On his last trip, he challenged himself on balancing a clear plastic cup on the tip of his ring finger. He did so successfully, taking slow, cautious steps, his trained eyes watching every teetering move the cup made, to the sink piled high with dishes.

He smiled with a small feeling of delight as he took out the dishes and began to sort them by order of space.

By then, Steve and Sam had returned from their jog around the property, careful to avoid the suburban communities around the place. Steve grinned warmly seeing Bucky stand up a little taller than he normally did, he even smiled.

For some reason, Bucky felt that it was going to be okay after all.

For once he felt safe.