Bucky Barnes (notzimniysoldat) wrote in madisonvalley, @ 2017-04-13 00:43:00 |
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Entry tags: | !closed, !complete, !completed gdoc, !log, [plot] future kids take 4, ~2017 april, ~25 points, ~~bucky barnes (notzimniysoldat), ~~steve rogers (neverdanced) |
WHO Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers +1
WHAT Child!
WHEN Thursday morning (after V/Steve & Bucky/Kara)
WHERE Rogers-Barnes Kitchen
WARNINGS Feels
STATUS Closed | Completed Gdoc
Bucky was still coming to grips with the fact that he had a little girl with Kara. That was going to be his future. It was a little surprising, given they'd just found out not two weeks ago that it was a very slim possibility, if anything, that they'd be able to have children. Becca Barnes was proof that the possibility existed. She'd requested waffles for breakfast, so that was what he was going to make while Kara helped Becca through her morning routine.
When he walked into the kitchen, he saw a little boy, older than Becca, working on something at the kitchen table. "Morning Pops," he greeted. "Is Dad awake yet?" Bucky just blinked, standing in the doorway for a brief moment. Did he mean Stevie?
"I think I heard him moving around," he replied, wondering why he could see echoes of Steve in the boy's face, but not his own.
"Oh good. Mom's coming tomorrow, right?" They always got together at least once a week for a big family dinner type thing. "I want to show her the drawings I made this week. And I didn't get into a single fight," he said proudly.
Yep. Definitely Steve's kid. Who was Mom though? "Uh, not sure, but I'll ask. In the meantime, waffles okay?"
He heard Steve come up behind him and glanced at his best pal.
***
Steve hadn’t been the only one moving around. He and Veronica had both been woken up by a visitor in their bed, and Steve had left Keith in Veronica’s care for a few minutes when he heard others getting up. It was better, he thought, if they had some sort of coordination underway by the time the girls woke up. Things were unsettled enough while everyone adjusted. Adding this was going to take some work to keep things from being shaken up too badly.
The voice he heard as he headed downstairs he just assumed belonged to whatever kid had shown up to Bucky, but coming into the kitchen, his brow creased. He’d seen that face before. A couple times, in a couple different kids, but it always meant one thing.
The question was, which name went along with it.
“What’s going on in here?” he asked, the slightest of nods and a small lift of his hand in Bucky’s direction meant to assure him that he had an idea what they were dealing with here.
***
Bucky was glad Steve had a clue, because he sure as hell didn't. He set about making pancakes while the boy responded to his Dad.
"I'm working on my drawing. I need your help actually. Something's not right with Stephanie's face," he said, looking expectantly at Steve to come over and provide some guidance. The kid had this look like maybe he could tell something wasn't quite right, but he was still unconcerned for the most part.
Alternatively, Bucky was very concerned.
***
Going around the table, Steve leaned over to take a look at the drawing. It didn’t look like the Stephanie he knew, but he could see the similarities. She was just a little more grown up than he’d ever seen her. That answered Steve’s question about which kid this was. There was only one option that led to Stephanie still being born, and that was one where he and Darcy didn’t end up together.
“Try….” Without really explaining, he just reached down and smudged a few pencil lines with his thumb, softening them. Whether that was what the kid was looking for or not, he didn’t know, but to Steve the soft edges made the subject look younger, and that was how he recognized Stephanie. “This is good work, Tim. Keep working; I’ve got to talk to your dad for a minute.”
He’d come downstairs hoping to catch Bucky and make sure he was doing okay before they were completely overrun.
***
Bucky worked quietly in the background, observing. He had a feeling that something like this had happened before, with this child specifically, and that was confirmed when Steve used his name without complaint or correction. Tim. Dugan flashed before his eyes, but he focused on the waffle batter instead. Steve would explain.
"Yea, sure," Tim replied, feeling better about his drawing.
Bucky kept his voice low once Steve came up next to him. "He's ours?" They would have had to use a surrogate. Right now, the only people he could think of that he would trust to carry his child - assuming Kara was out of the picture - was Natasha or Darcy. What was more interesting was that in some world, some version of things, he and Steve were happy together. It reminded him of the kiss they'd shared months ago, when they'd lost their abilities. This was just further proof that he could be enough.
***
Leaning against the counter, arms folded, watching over the kid, Steve nodded. His voice dropped to match Bucky’s tone. “Thanks to Darcy,” he explained. “He’s been here before.”
Something wasn’t quite the same, though. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something different about the kid. Not that that was unusual for these sorts of things; when kids showed up a second or third time there was usually something a little different, a reflection of things that happened in town or in the kids’ lives, and so for now, Steve let it go.
“You okay?” Though Steve had mentioned this sort of thing happening, it was the first time since Bucky had come to town. Not the first weird thing, but kids were different. Kids came in swarms and were sometimes terrifying promises of the future, or a glimpse into something that could have been.
***
That explained things. "But he doesn't remember?" Or maybe he did and just didn't know to say something about it. Bucky was trying to wrap his head around it.
"Kara and I have a daughter. Becca. What does that mean?" Did he and Kara call it quits? Was Kara sent home? How was Tim older if either of those were the case? Did she leave and then come back? "She mentioned a Keith. When we tried to get information out of her, she spouted off her own name, me, Kara, you, V and Keith. This was still her home address."
***
Steve didn’t have all the answers Bucky was looking for, wound up just shrugging one shoulder. Timothy might or might not remember being there, if he didn’t maybe that was why something seemed off. If he did remember, he probably did know better than to say anything; the last time he’d shown up he’d been a child of the town, and those ones always knew how to handle the weird stuff that happened.
“It doesn’t mean anything, pal,” he soothed. “This is something that happens occasionally. Kids from all different kinds of futures show up, doesn’t mean any of them are definitely going to be real.”
He’d had kids show up multiple times, there’d been one who he’d been absolutely sure would exist one day, but now didn’t have a chance. Instead there was Keith.
“If anyone’s got a real chance, though, go with Becca.” Of course they’d named her Becca. Bucky’s sister. “Keith’s upstairs with Veronica right now.”
Steve couldn’t have hidden the smile if he’d tried. He wanted kids one day, a couple of them in addition to Molly, and Keith was as good a sign as anything that it could happen. That he and Veronica really would manage to work out and stay married and both be around long enough to have kids a couple years down the line.
***
That was somehow worse, that it didn't mean anything. Becca had already won over his heart, but the thought of him and Steve having a life together somewhere, somehow, and having a kid made his heart swell, too. But if none of the kids meant anything, then what was he meant to do with it? That kind of sadness must've shown on his face, because Steve reassured him soon enough that if there was any kid that had a shot of being real, it was Becca. Keith was Steve and V's kid, from the smile on his best pal's face.
"That's good to know," he replied, not quite as ecstatic as he had been when he first came downstairs, but he was getting back up there. At least he could enjoy this while it lasted. "We'll have to make some additional arrangements for Easter," he said as he got the waffles started. It was a bit more at normal volume, so Tim perked up.
"Where's the calendar? The one that goes on the fridge? I don't remember if the doctor is on Monday or Tuesday next week," Tim said, a little hesitant, like going to the doctor was a regular, if unpleasant occurrence.
Bucky glanced at Steve. What was he talking about, going to the doctor?
***
“We’ll figure it out.” They always did. Things happened, and they figured them out. It was just how being in town worked. For now, they’d just have to have a good time while the kids were there. Who knew when they’d see them again, some of them maybe never again. There was always someone from someplace really interesting.
He remembered the first time this had happened, a son he’d had with Darcy, from a world where she’d worked for the Avengers and they’d gotten close. That had been right up there as interesting went.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay before--” he cut himself off when Timothy piped up, brow creasing and boosting himself away from the counter to go sit down with him. “Remind me why we’re going, pal.”
Stopping to take a real, close look at him, Steve half wondered if he didn’t already know. That something kind of off, he realized, was the part that he recognized in the kid as himself instead of just Darcy. All at once, Steve was actually afraid of what the answer might be.
***
They'd figure it out, of course they would. That wasn't the question. He just hoped that it wouldn't be heartbreaking to meet and then say goodbye to Becca and Tim. Bucky wasn't sure if more kids would show up, or even how old or who would be their mom, but he hoped not. He wasn't sure if he could deal with more. At the mention of a doctor, Bucky focused on Tim's answer while appearing like he was paying attention to making the waffle batter.
"The heart doctor is this week and then the asthma doctor is next week, right Pops?" Timothy asked, looking up at Bucky.
Bucky turned to look at his son and reached over to give Steve's hand a squeeze. He remembered the nights in winter where he and Steve were bundled up, where he had his hand on Steve's chest to make sure his heart was beating in a steady rhythm, or as steady as his heart ever got. Hell, he remembered scraping together as much money as he could for asthma cigarettes for Steve.
"Sounds right, Tim," he replied, even though he was more concerned for Steve.
***
Steve felt like his heart might stop now. It wasn’t completely unheard of when these things happened, but it was rare. And always terrifying. To think that everything that had held him back when he’d been younger, made him small and weak and sick, could be passed on to his kids. It made him afraid for the ones he might actually have one day, filled his head with what ifs. What if the healthy little kids this place showed him weren’t what he actually got to have? What if his children wound up suffering and it was because of him. Because the serum had fixed what was wrong with him, but it hadn’t eliminated the genes completely.
It was something he didn’t want to ever need to be worried about, but wound up doing every time anyway.
And it was so much worse to be faced with the sullen resignation that that was just how the kid’s life was, that doctors were just something he saw every week. It broke Steve’s heart.
But he mustered a smile, fragile as it was. “Listen, pal, you know how things happen here? Something’s going on now and it looks like you’re not going to make this week. We’ll make sure you get checked out, though.” They knew doctors. Banner or Simmons or Beckett, any of them or all of them could take a look at the boy’s heart, make sure he’d be alright for a week. “Okay?”
***
Tim looked up at his dad at the tone of voice. Sometimes he got kind of sad about all the doctors visits, something he and Pops talked about sometimes when they stayed in the hospital. He also knew that whenever something weird was going on, it meant he got to see Doctor Banner or Doctor Simmons, and sometimes even Doctor Beckett. He had regular doctors in town though, ones who'd treat refugees or kids of refugees, who wouldn't possibly disappear one day to the next. Tim actually perked up at that.
"Yea! I like my doctors and all, but Uncle Bruce and Aunt Jemma are the best," he agreed easily. Then he went back to his drawing, putting the finishing touches on it.
Bucky gave Steve's hand another squeeze, having not let go yet. "You okay?" he asked softly.
***
For a second, Steve didn’t respond. When he did, it was to shake his head no.
But what he said was “Yeah.” Because he wasn’t going to let himself get dragged down by something he couldn’t change, not when there was a kid right in front of him, and others around the house, who needed him to keep it together. Not when his best pal was going through this whole kids thing for the first time and needed him to keep it together. “Fine.”
But he’d be keeping a close eye on Timothy for the week, watching to see just how bad it was. He remembered still how often he’d had to just stop and hold his breath, or force himself to start coughing, to push his heart back into a steadier rhythm. Hopefully his kid was going to have an easier time of it.
***
They were going to have Words later. Bucky's very firm look promised that. He hadn't once bought any of Steve's bullshit before and that wasn't about to change now. But, for Tim's sake, he wasn't going to push anything. He was going to spend from now until the party debating the idea of doing another bonfire. If Tim had breathing problems, that was going to exclude him right there and no way was Bucky going to let that happen.
"Hey Tim, you got some kind of medical ID on you? List of meds?" Bucky asked, going back to his pancakes.
"Oh, yea. Here." He pulled out his phone and opened it up to this app specifically to track his medications, illnesses, and emergency contact numbers. "Is something weird going on with the dome, Pops?"
"Looks that way kid," Bucky replied, taking the list and skimming it before handing it over to Steve.
***
Bucky could have all the Words he wanted. Steve didn’t have the luxury of letting this hurt as much as it did. To know this kid’s suffering was on him. Maybe the two of them could spend some quiet time together while he was around, something, though he knew nothing he could do would make up for it.
Taking the phone, skimming it over, he glanced at the boy. “You don’t remember coming back before, huh? To a time when we didn’t know who you were yet?”
He didn’t want to add more hurt by saying that this version of Steve and Bucky probably wouldn’t. They loved each other, sure, and there had been that kiss that could’ve gone a lot further if they’d been a little drunker, but their relationship wasn’t like that. Bucky had Kara and Steve had Veronica and they both had little kids that he could hear giggling with each other upstairs. Timothy probably wouldn’t exist here.
The answer was a shaking of his head, no of course not, this was a different Timothy than the one Steve had met before.
Steve looked back to Bucky briefly, then focused in on the list on the phone again. It wasn’t so bad. A lot of medications, but they could manage it, knowing doctors made it easier, and from what Steve could tell, what was used hadn’t changed a hell of a lot. Which gave him hope that maybe Tim was alright. That he could be alright. “The last time this happened, Tim here showed up. It was a different you back then, so it looks like it’s a different him, too.”
Last time, Timothy Barnes had been healthy and happy.
***
Bucky watched Steve as he read the list, gauging his reaction. Even if they didn't talk about it now, they'd be able to talk about it after Tim was returned to his time. He also made a mental note to talk to V about it, if their son was going to be born. Knowing the list of ailments Tim had, Bucky could see that being a stumbling block with getting Steve to even consider trying.
He just squeezed Steve's shoulder reassuringly. "Still good to have him around," Bucky replied softly. Once a plate of waffles was ready, he set it down in front of Tim and ruffled his son's hair. "Eat up, Tim. Syrup's in the fridge." Bucky glanced down at the drawing. "You might want to find a place to put that so it's out of the way. There's a couple more kids coming and I can't guarantee it won't get messed up."
Tim just finished up the bit he was working on. "Is the art room here?" he asked. All it took was Bucky's blank look for him to sigh. "Guess not." He got up and walked over to the fridge. "I'm just going to stick it here," Tim decided as he stuck it to the fridge with a magnet.
"You should keep the fridge filled with artwork," Bucky encouraged. He wanted tangible reminders for when Tim went home. He didn't want to think about it right now, but he knew it was true.
***
Tim’s smile at the suggestion was almost enough to make Steve forget for a second about how sick he was beneath it. He just seemed so...okay. Better than Steve had ever felt, no matter how hard he’d tried not to let it affect his life. The kid probably did the same, just acted like nothing was wrong even when his heart didn’t work right or he couldn’t breathe.
It was a bad habit, and something else Steve wished he hadn’t passed on.
“Might run out of room,” he chuckled, and rose from his chair to move the drawing a little higher, well out of reach of the little hands he heard making their way downstairs, a few more sets of feet than there should be, and Steve didn’t need to be a genius to know that meant more kids than they’d known. Probably belonging to one of the girls. “It’s about to get real loud around here.”
Time to brace themselves.