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[bottledblond]

Not every universe in the far and wide cosmos is as lucky (however unlucky itself that seems) to encounter Thanos during a time where people live who can do something about it. Steve Rogers, a particular version of Steve Rogers who had only just suffered through his first night of basic training in New Jersey as part of the Army’s Project Rebirth and thus had not yet become Captain America, bent to untie his shoes and saw his hands begin to disintegrate. He doesn’t panic, panicking is for people who do not live like every breath is their last. Instead, he blinks in surprise as the barracks fill with shouting. He has time to contemplate two things. One, he wishes he’d done more with his life. And two, he hopes Bucky will do all right.

He’s still thinking about that last issue when he exhales his last in a universe where Captain America never existed and finishes it bent over in the ruins of the barracks, roof half open to the sky and walls a burnt and ashy gray.

It takes him an hour to get to the road and by then, his asthma is already getting the best of him. He blacks out for the second time ‘that day’ and wakes up staring at the ceiling of what is obviously a hospital.

It just doesn’t sound or smell like a hospital. Sure. People are running around and yelling, but it smells painfully clean, artificially so, and there are machines he’s never seen before connected by wires to his body. He does the thing people should never do and yanks them loose. The machines squawk strangely and frantically and Steve is almost out of bed when two large men in green pajamas force him back.

Nothing makes sense to him for days. People come to talk to him, to find out who he is and who his family is. Evidently Steve Rogers is a popular name, because they bring in more people to talk to him, to ask him questions about his life, but no one has any answers.

He explodes, as he’s wont to do when frustrated, demands answers, but nothing they say makes sense.

By then, the war is over. Not World War II, which has evidently been over for over half a century, but this new war. And Bucky Barnes had been told of his presence. Steve is in bed, arms crossed, looking dour and getting an infusion of something that honestly is helping him breathe better when Bucky bursts into his now private room. It’s been two months

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[woundedwinter]

"Angel and a hero?" He coughs again, using his free arm to brace his ribs because Sam is going to be insufferable when he hears that.

His pained expression shifts into something fond and soft as he pulls himself upright. "I'm okay Stevie, I promise. This arm is made of the strongest metal on the planet. It can handle a little knock like that."

Bucky winces as his comms crackle in his ear, tugging it out with a grimace. It was fried and they were going to have to look for Sam and Darcy directly. "Did you find the rope inside? If they were looking for it we need to secure it and fast."

[bottledblond]

Listen. He calls em as he sees em. And if Bucky hadn’t almost died (in Steve’s mind at least) maybe there could be some praise there too. The younger man just doesn’t have it in him.

Steve places his hand on Bucky’s chest for reasons even he doesn’t quite fathom as he isn’t actually trying to feel Bucky’s pulse or make sure he’s breathing, and lets his own heart rate relax again.

His head turns towards the place he’d stashed the rope and his eyebrows lift before he gets to his feet. The case opens easily and he fishes the red glowing rope from behind the extinguisher.

“Still the brains of the operation I see,” he says, laughing.

[woundedwinter]

The hand on his chest is nice and Bucky rests his hand over Steve's for a moment. They're both safe. They're okay.

Then Steven Grant Rogers, his best friend and constant walking heart attack, goes and picks up the red glowing rope that was only supposed to be held by the guy with the artificial vibranium arm. Honestly he's half tempted to just drop back into the rubble and wait for the inevitable fallout.

"My comms are fried, we're going to have to go find them." He offers his hand for the rope. "Let me carry it before Sam has a stroke."

[bottledblond]

It’s not the first time he’s held it. He’s not had any desire to go up to the roof and jump. Steve doesn’t really understand the precautions, the reasons for them, or what this has to do with anything. Glowing rope, instant communication, robot arms and wings. It’s like just one of those future things or something.

He does hand over the rope, though.

“You look a mess. You might want to comb your hair before Doctor Lewis sees you.” He’d seen the way she looked at Bucky after all.

Sam, thankfully sans stroke, is waiting for them outside. He looks annoyed. “All we have is this mask. They all got away.”

[woundedwinter]

Huh. It's not affecting him. That's something for Darcy to sort out, not him. The only thing that matters is Steve and Sam are okay.

Bucky snorts, "I'm sure she's seen worse."

"All of them? Great. So all we have is a mask and explosives."

[bottledblond]

“No, we have a mask and a ruined school,” Sam says, hands on his hips, obviously angry. He holds the mask out to Bucky, seeing as he’s evidently the pack mule now for all of their things. “Hey, Steve, you doing all right?”

Steve smooths a hand through his hair to try to set it all back in place.

The blond nods. “Better than Buck. Unless one armed jackets are cool now...?”

“Yeah, kind of,” Sam snorts. “You got the rope? Think you can keep up, Old Head?”

[woundedwinter]

"Oh I'm fine, only sat on some explosives to save your ass," he drawls as he takes the mask. He can carry it all, it's fine.

He rolls his eyes at Sam, "I can do damn more than keep up and you know it. Did Redwing get anything on our party crashers?"

[bottledblond]

“Yeah,” Sam says, gesturing for Steve and Bucky to follow him. “It’s going to take a minute to get at it. Darcy can analyze the footage.”

Steve isn’t sure what they’re talking about but he has a spring in his step as he does his best to keep pace. Bucky at least waits for him, and the blond finds himself smiling at the ground as they head back to the van.

“Buck. You’ve got some smudges— Oh sorry. That’s just your face,” Steve quiet whispers as they approach and Darcy turns her head towards them. Or, really, towards Bucky.

[woundedwinter]

Bucky snort chuckles and nudges Steve as they get to the van. He hands off the rope to Jimmy and sets down the mask so they all can get a better look at it.

If Darcy is vying for his attention she's wasting her time. She's beautiful, smart and curvy, but he's only got eyes for the guy standing next to him.

Flag Smashers. People who wanted the world like it was during the Blip, when half of the universe was gone. Bucky sets his jaw because he had been at that final fight and how desperately they had all battled to save those lives.

"Great. More extremists."

[bottledblond]

“Why would they want half of humanity dead?” Steve asks, leaning in towards the mask.

Darcy explains it all in her scientific, cute way. There’s over population, death of wildlife, pollution, all things that Steve’s generation never worried about because they never knew they had to. “And you know. War, famine, poverty— people living in your old house, your wife married to someone else... it’s pretty messy.”

Steve sighs. “Sounds complicated. But that’s no reason to want people dead. Is that why they’re trying to collect these artifacts?”

“That would be my guess,” Jimmy steps in. “Good work out there. As soon as we get more information, we’ll call you up again.”

[woundedwinter]

There are quick handshakes and promises that they'll all be in touch soon. Bucky is now invested in the job and it feels oddly good to have a purpose again after being adrift for so long.

He grins at Steve and claps a hand on his shoulder. "Pretty good for your first mission huh?"

They can find a store on the way back and he can change into something that isn't shredded and smells of blood and spot.

[bottledblond]

There’s no denying that Steve is charged. He’s not to the point where he has to go over the blow by blow of their mission, but he’s buzzing from the roots of his hair to the tips of his fingers.

Bucky’s left arm is hidden from him as they drive, but Steve keeps sneaking looks over at the other man with his guarded eyes and chiseled, stoic jaw.

Today, he’s finally seen Bucky as something more than the twenty-two year old kid who went off to war a few months before to play hero. He sees the aftermath of that, of all of the hardship and all of the sorrow and how he’s still managing to be a good man.

Bucky doesn’t need to be running errands after today’s hijinks.

“Can we just go home? Maybe hit up one of those driving restaurants?” Drive-thrus tickle him, all right? His back and ribs ache and he’s sure Bucky’s do too even if he’s not showing it.

Besides, now that Bucky has his phone on, Amazon’s notification that his order had been delivered actually shows up.

[woundedwinter]

"Yeah sure, whatever you want." Because that's been Bucky Barnes at his very core. Anything Steve wants, he makes it happen.

And takeout is fine, he's not really feeling crowds himself. Home is quiet and safe and he won't have to worry about flashbacks there.

Several bags of takeout later they're shoving his door open and kicking in the boxes of clothes and things that Bucky had ordered for Steve.

"Start opening those up. I'm gonna grab a shower and then we can eat." He needs to not smell like combat if he has any hope of eating and sleeping like a normal person.

[bottledblond]

Five minutes into his shower, the bathroom door bursts open. Steve frowns through the steam at the part of Bucky’s upper body that he can see through the partially frosted and partially fogged up shower door glass.

“What’s all of this?” he asks, an oddly normal amount of annoyance in his voice despite what they’d been through. He’s holding up several plastic bags of clothes, shirts to be exact, in both small and extra small sizes. “You’re just blowing money? Why?”

He’s accepted literally everything else about this world.

Just not that Bucky is rich.

[woundedwinter]

Steve bursts in at exactly the wrong moment. Bucky's hand drops and he swiftly changes the water to cold because when the hell has Steve honored boundaries between them?

"Stevie? Christ man!" He peers out from the shower, trying to hide his erection as it finally starts to flag.

"What? I told you I was getting you some clothes that fit?"

[bottledblond]

“Did you buy every shirt in the store? On top of the delivery service?!” Steve has never heard of Amazon, and he certainly isn't paying much attention to anything other than Bucky’s splotchy, stupid face half visible in the fogged up glass—

At least until the fool opens the door a crack to look at him and a pretty small but still visible sliver of skin through the steam reaches Steve’s gaze. The lack of any real shape is what has always enticed Steve more than anything. The hint of skin is incredibly appealing to both the artist and the man who has half lost his place in the rant, leaving so much up to the imagination.

He can clearly see Bucky breaking that lock and going head to head with the guy that had tried to hurt him superimposed on the wet body tucked away in the shower. His mind doesn’t quite blank, but he falls awkwardly silent.

“Stop just— Stop buying me stuff,” he mumbles. “Sorry.” Steve backs through the door, drops one of the shirts, has to bend to get it, shuts the door on the package, groans loudly, and finally ends his painful, comical retreat. “Oh my God,” he whispers and presses his face to the door. “Rogers, pull yourself together.”

[woundedwinter]

"Steve it's fine," he protests. "It's just.." and the door clicks shut and he's left alone again. Bucky presses his forehead to the cool tile. He tries and fails not to listen to Steve outside the door.

It's okay. Steve doesn't get modern economics. To be fair Bucky only has the vaguest notion of them himself but he's trying.

It's fine. It's fine. They'll be okay and he keeps telling himself that as he gets out of the shower and towels off quickly.

He doesn't even think about heading to his bedroom without a towel around his waist. Steve's seen him enough already, right?

So he goes for something quick and comfortable. Slide on pants and a shirt he can pull over without having to screw with buttons or anything like that.

Modern clothes were pretty damn amazing.

"Stevie?"

[bottledblond]

Honestly, Bucky couldn’t have taken a longer shower? The food can be warmed up. There’s loads of it anyway and there’s no rush. Steve has, at least, finished his whispered prayers about getting his head back on the right way and while it hasn’t entirely taken effect yet, he’s not blushing or yanking at his hair.

So.

Progress?

Steve is in the main room, though it’s not like there is a lot of space else for him to go, and has all of the clothes Bucky had bought him out of their plastic and neatly folded into piles. Right now he has a set of clothes that fit and a set of clothes that do not. The clothes that do not have been placed back in one of the boxes.

“I don’t like that I’m classified as an extra small,” Steve says, pulling on another shirt. He doesn’t look back at Bucky, studying himself in the mirror he’d found attached to the inside of the coat closet door. “But at least most of them are too short. So that makes me feel good.”

They’re actually not too short, but come just below the belt line as is the style. Steve just is used to longer shirts meant for tucking in.

“I’m also not wearing Orange. But at least I can stop wearing your stuff.” He turns, wearing a white and baby blue striped polo that looks absolutely fantastic on him and brings out his eyes.

[woundedwinter]

God he looks amazing and it takes every ounce of self control he has to not stop and stare. "It looks good on you," he promises. "And whatever you don't like we can send back, easy as can be."

"I know you don't but that's the way sizes work anymore." It's weird and it had taken a lot of help before he understood sizes himself.

Bucky ducks back into his room to grab a t-shirt and yank it on.

"Okay, let's eat and celebrate a good first job in the field."

[bottledblond]

Steve gets out the plates because they are not just going to eat out of take out containers and plastic wrap. They can be civilized. With the breakfast bar set up for a meal, Steve pulls out a stool. It takes a little bit of effort but if he steps on Bucky’s stool’s rung he can pretty much use the counter for balance.

Whatever had happened in the bathroom has been dropped. Steve’s levels have evened out and they spend the night first packing up the items Steve doesn’t want, arguing about keeping more than a dozen items all together, and then enjoying some television from the late fifties.

It’s much more Steve’s speed, and he can’t help but Marvel at all of the ad breaks and the comedy spoofs. There’s a break in the shows pretty late that evening when the phone somehow knows to ring.

It’s Sam, of course, with information on the Flag Smashers. “We need to decide how we’re gonna work this if there are other guys like you out there is all I’m saying.”

[woundedwinter]

Bucky is happy to spend the evening with Steve in any fashion, ignoring what happened earlier in favor of relaxing while Steve fusses over what he wants and doesn't.

The ringing of his phone draws a sigh and he still picks up because he made a promise after all.

"We're gonna work this as a team," because that's obvious. They're going to work it as a team. Steve, Bucky and Sam.

"I'm not sidelining him."

[bottledblond]

Sam’s quiet for a moment, just in case he’s on speaker. He doesn’t want to be the bad guy here. “I’m not saying that. Steve’s got a sharp mind and he’s an asset to the team. But he’s breakable.”

Steve’s eyes are fixated on Bucky and on the phone. He’s got that really horrible ‘I’ve got to prove myself’ look on his face, the kind that usually meant he’d get himself in a fight just to prove he could withstand it.

“He could man Redwing. All of the eyes and not much of the risk.”

[woundedwinter]

"You are too," he counters. Because they're both painfully fragile and it terrifies him sometimes to think about losing either of them.

"I can take the hits. You and Steve can work out a plan to handle the backup."

Because he really wouldn't trust anyone else to watch his back in a fight.

[bottledblond]

“I’m not a damned sidekick, Barnes,” Sam says with enough ferocity that Steve can actually hear it through the phone. He finds the outburst interesting. It’s similar to how he’s always felt himself. He’s not just Bucky’s little friend. He’s not just riding in coattails.

Sam quiets down after that, sighing in Bucky’s ear.

“He’s not a soldier. He’s not military. He’s not trained. So I’m sorry, but I know you care about his safety. And, just putting this out there man, but you don’t owe him the way you think you do.”

[woundedwinter]

"I didn't say you were," he counters at the challenge. It's easier to answer that so he doesn't have to deal with the choking anger at the rest of what Sam has to say.

"I don't care. At this point me and Steve are a package deal. If you want a super soldier with a nifty artificial arm, Steve is coming with. No negotiation, no nothing. If he wants to train up, I'll handle it but like hell am I leaving him behind."

And miracle of miracles he hangs up and doesn't break his phone in half.

It's him and Steve. End of the damn line.