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Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of Prospect Park Verse
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Published:
2015-03-30
Completed:
2015-06-21
Words:
29,643
Chapters:
8/8
Comments:
43
Kudos:
539
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106
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8,558

Prospect Park

Summary:

Closed off from the world, Bucky hides away from his fears in a state of self imposed isolation. But when his meddling friends decide to intervene, Bucky is forced out of his solitude and into the world he has tried so hard to forget. Along with the help of one cute little puppy, Bucky takes a fateful trip to Prospect Park that will change his life forever.

Notes:

Hello friends! So, this is my first stab at a long Stucky fic as well as a gift to the lovely tumblr user, fallenbarnes because she is sunshine and rainbows.

I plan on updating with a new chapter every Monday, so keep an eye out!

This is un-beta'd so all mistakes are my own. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Text

It is completely Natasha’s fault that Bucky is currently sitting in a brightly lit waiting room so early on a Saturday morning instead of sleeping blissfully under a mountain of blankets. It is entirely her and that damn vodka she is so fond, of fault.


Bucky is the victim here.


They were drunk - Bucky more so than Natasha but that is always the case – when she got on to the topic of Barton’s dog and how it chewed through her favorite pair of Louis Vuitton’s. Bucky had laughed, remembering how his own childhood dog would do that to Becca’s shoes all the time, sometimes with Bucky goading him on in the process. That of course, got him lamenting about dogs and their greatness. Natasha watched, a coy smile playing on her lips, her green eyes alight with mischief. Bucky should have known she was up to something right then and there but alcohol had the tendency to dull his ‘Natasha is Scheming’ radar considerably.


A few more shots later and some carefully chosen rhetoric on how dogs can improve one’s life and self-esteem, Bucky was agreeing to her nefarious plan to get him a dog.


Because drunken ideas always end well.


So here he is, sitting in the shelter’s waiting room, sporting a nasty hangover and cursing the very existence of the red headed she-devil seated next to him. The coffee she had handed him as he all but collapsed into her car hadn’t kicked in yet, leaving him grouchier than normal and skirting the razors edge.


Despite the empty waiting room, Bucky feels eyes on him everywhere, making his sour mood even worse. He tugs harshly on the sleeve of his long sleeved shirt so the material covers the metal fingers of his left hand. Natasha, not glancing away from whatever magazine she is flipping through reaches for his flesh and blood wrist and pulls it into her lap, stilling his movements.


“Relax James.” She says. Bucky refrains from growling at her but begins to tap his foot on the tile floor relentlessly. Natasha sighs and places the magazine down next to her, leveling him with her sharp stare. “You need to calm down or you’re going to scare away the dogs.”


“I am calm.” He bites back full of venom. “I can’t believe you fucking brought me here.”


“You said you wanted a dog last night. I’m just making that dream a reality.”


“I was drunk Nat. You of all people should know not to take me seriously when I’m drunk.”


“James,” Natasha says with her signature wicked smile. “That’s the only time I take you seriously.”


Bucky grumbles and slouches down in his seat. “Yeah well you still fucking suck.”


“Just think of this as a way to get you back into the world James.”


Bucky scoffs. Of course. Of fucking course that’s her reason; another thrilling chapter in Natasha Romanoff’s quest to ‘Get Bucky Back into the World.’


How wonderful.


No, fucking stupid is what it is. Her and her damn mission to get him out of his house and back into life he had. Like that was ever going to happen.


Besides, who said he even wanted to get back into the world? The world made him this way, who said he wanted to be part of it again? And how the hell was a dog going to help with that? Natasha gives him her patented eyebrow quirk as if she knows exactly what he’s thinking. To be completely honest, he wouldn’t be surprised if she could, so he mentally gives her the finger and crosses his arms over his chest. This is so fucking stupid.


Fuming, Bucky opens his mouth to tell Natasha just that and call this whole thing off but, before he can get a single word out, the door leading to the back of the building opens and a fresh faced employee steps out, calling his name.


“Mr. Barnes?”


Bucky snaps his mouth shut and glares. Natasha pinches him on his knee when he fails to answer, causing him to yelp in pain. The employee looks at him with wide eyes, which only serves to piss him off even more. He hears Natasha sigh next to him as she stands.


“This is Mr. Barnes.” She replies with a roll of her eyes.


“Oh well,” the employee says nervously. “If you’re both ready, you can come on back and meet the dogs.”


Seeing no way to get out of Natasha’s devious plan, Bucky slowly gets to his feet and follows the woman to the back. The sound of dogs barking assaults his ears doing nothing to sooth his raging hangover.


“So what I’m going to have you do it just hang out with the dogs for awhile to see if you bond with any of them.” The employee explains coming to a stop in front of a large window looking into a room of dogs playing happily with each other. “We want to insure that you and whatever dog you choose is going to be a good fit, to reduce the risk of a return. Do you have any questions?”


Bucky looks at her blankly. He wonders if she can see how badly he doesn’t want to be here but, he knows Natasha better than his own hand. There is no way he’ll be leaving here without a furry little puff ball to call his own.


“Nah, I got it.” he says roughly.


“Alright then,” The employee smiles widely as she opens the door into the play room. “Have at it.”


Natasha gives him a little nudge to push him over the threshold, shutting the door behind him. He’s suddenly bombarded with tiny paws and eager tongues trying to reach every inch of him.


“Jesus Christ.” He says gently pushing an overzealous Labrador off of him. He makes his way deeper into the room, taking a seat on the floor, a trail of dogs following him merrily. He soon finds himself relaxing as he pets every single dog that comes to him, letting them lick all over his face. It’s soothing really; he suddenly understands why people come here just to sit with the dogs. The only demands they make are for some pats on the head and belly rubs. He can live with that.


After awhile the excitement of a new person to play with seems to fade and the dogs go back to playing with each other. But Bucky sits there contently watching the dogs fall over each other, his headache slowly diminishing and a sense of ease like he’s never felt before settling over him.


So maybe Natasha’s plan wasn’t so stupid after all. He still didn’t know how a dog was going to get him ‘back into the world’ or whatever but he could see himself going home with one just for the hell of it. Drunk musings or not, dogs were pretty fucking awesome.


A small floppy eared puppy comes trotting up to him, sniffing at his left hand curiously before plopping down in his lap and curling into a tiny ball.


“You have a rough night too?” Bucky chuckles as he begins to card his fingers through the pup’s soft caramel colored hair. “I bet you didn’t have a friend get you drunk just so you’d agree to their stupid plan.” He mutters softly. The puppy yips in contentment and burrows his head further into Bucky’s stomach. He looks down at the tiny ball of fur and feels his heart swell. Scooping the pup into his arms, he holds him close to his chest like a precious new born baby.


Fucking Natasha and her fucking plans.


He sits there, holding the puppy as it sleeps, until the employee comes back to collect him.


“Looks like you made a friend.” She smiles sweetly.


Bucky nods, looking down as the little dog’s ears twitch in his sleep. “I guess this little guy’s alright.”


“Do you think Pancake is the one for you?”


Bucky scrunches his nose up in confusion. “Pancake?”


“It’s the puppy’s name.” The employee explains. “When he was brought in, one of the other employees thought his coat looked like the most perfectly cooked pancakes and well…the name just kind of stuck. You can rename him if you plan on adopting him.”


Bucky looks down at Pancake and runs a finger down his black muzzle. “Nah,” Bucky says. “I like Pancake. It suits him.”


It kind of does, if he is being honest. The pup is clearly a big old ball of goo that’s too damn cute for his own good. He’s just a big old lazy, fluffy, pancake.


“So is Pancake the one?”


“Yeah.” Bucky says looking up at her. “He’s the one.”


“Wonderful!” She says brightly. “If you’d just leave him here and follow me back to the front we can get all the paperwork and start the adoption process.”


“Leave him? You mean I can’t bring him home today?” Bucky asks, frowning. His arms tighten around the little dog protectively, unwilling to let him go.


The smile on the employee’s face falls as she shakes her head. “Unfortunately, no. You’ll be able to take Pancake home after the adoption papers have been processed and someone from the shelter stops by your house to make sure the living conditions are substantial.”


“How long does that normally take?” Natasha asks, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. The employee jumps, startled by her sudden appearance. Bucky’s known Natasha long enough to be immune to her sneaky spy moves, so he just blinks up at the woman waiting expectantly for her answer.


“Worst case scenario, two weeks.” The employee says eyeing Natasha wearily. “But the faster the paperwork is filled out, the quicker I can move the process along.”


“Well James?” Natasha says looking smugly down at the sleeping pup in his arms. Bucky shoots her a glare before placing the sleeping dog gently down on the floor. Pancake whines, his little feet moving as if he was running before settling down once more.


He pushes himself to his feet and stuffs his hands into his pockets. Pancake looks so small compared to the other dogs still milling about the room. This is not fucking fair. He didn’t even want to adopt a dog in the first place and now not only has this stupid little mutt taken hold of his heart but he has to leave it. He can’t even bring him home. How fucked up is that?


Natasha, the devil that she is, picks up on his mood and wraps her arm around his shoulders in comfort.


“This fucking sucks. You fucking suck.” Bucky grumbles as they walk back to the front of the shelter.


“I know.” She agrees. “But he’ll be with you soon enough.”


“Just so you know,” Bucky says. “You owe me like, a week’s worth of take out for this shit, seeing it was your brilliant plan and all.”


Natasha smiles, clearly proud of herself. “Fair enough.”


It takes thirty, long, torturous minutes to fill out all the necessary paperwork and pay the adoption fee - courtesy of one Natasha Romanoff - Bucky grumbling the whole time. Finally once the last piece of paper is signed, the employee gives them a cautious smile and promises someone will call in the next few days for a home visit. Bucky huffs out a gruff ‘thank you’ before stalking out the front doors to Natasha’s car.


“That dog must have been something special.” Natasha says as she puts the keys into the ignition.


Bucky chooses to ignore her and sits ramrod straight in his seat, a familiar panic setting in. The Brooklyn streets fly by in a blur as he tries to keep his breathing even. Soon, Natasha is pulling up in front of his building and Bucky is off like a flash, flying out of car and into the safety of his apartment. Once inside, the disappointment of leaving Pancake behind rears its head.


This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to walk into the shelter, feign indifference and prove Natasha wrong. Instead he’s fallen for Natasha’s trap and moping over a puppy that he might not even get to adopt if someone better comes along. He’s still failing to see how this is going to help him.


“I know it may not seem like it now but, this’ll be good for you James.” Natasha says as she leans against the door jam, her lips pulled down into a frown.


“You keep on sayin’ that.” He grunts turning to face her, hands on his hips.


“I’ll be by tomorrow to help spruce up the place.” She says coming up to him and placing a kiss on his cheek. “Give it time James; you’ll see what I’m talking about.”


Bucky doubts that he will but, he’s learned not to bet against Natasha.


True to her word, she stops by the next day, her arms laden down with pet store bags and begins cleaning up his sublevel Brooklyn apartment to make it 100% puppy proof. Dog toys soon fill a small basket under the window, a dog bed takes up residence in his room, and food bowls are placed neatly next to the refrigerator like they have always belonged there.


Barton comes by not long after, two pizza boxes in his hands and a knowing look in his eyes.


“She got you drunk and made you agree to something didn’t she?” He asks, pushing his way through Bucky’s front door.


“Yeah, where the hell were you? You’re supposed to stop her from doing that.”


“Man you know I can’t make her do anything.” Clint smirks setting the greasy boxes down on Bucky’s coffee table. Natasha is lounging in Bucky’s recliner; her legs hanging over the arm with Bucky’s computer perched on her knees as she looks up information on pet insurance because, he apparently needs that sort of thing.


“The hell you can’t.” Bucky grumbles slamming his front door shut. “You probably helped her cook up this stupid ass plan.”


Clint looks down at his feet guiltily before busying himself with the food. Bucky’s mouth drops open in shock.


“Oh my fucking god, you were in on this too?” he breathes. “What he fuck Barton, I thought you were on my side?!”


“We’re both on your side James.” Natasha says without look up from the computer screen. Clint nods along in agreement.


Bucky rolls his eyes and grabs two beers from the fridge before making his way over to the couch. “If you were on my side you’d stop tryin’ to ‘fix’ me or whatever the hell you’re doing.”


“Come on dude, were not trying to fix you.” Clint says trading a plate of pizza for a beer. “We just want to help you get back out there and shit.”


“Maybe you both should try minding your own fucking business.” He snaps back his palms beginning to sweat. Natasha looks up from the computer screen to level him with an ice cold stare.


“Whether you like it or not,” she says slowly. “After what happened, you are always going to be our business. It’s been three years James, it’s time.”


Bucky’s throat goes dry. He doesn’t want to talk about this, never this. He doesn’t need to be reminded of his short comings, of how poorly he’s handled things since…that day.


That horrible day that happened three fucking years ago. Christ it doesn’t feel like it’s been that long. It’s still too fresh, as if it had happened yesterday. The panic attacks may have lessened but the fear still has a strong hold over his heart, the pain phantom and dull but none the less, as present as ever.


Three years since it’s happened and not a thing has changed.


Clint and Natasha are watching him like he’s ten seconds away from going postal only adding to his growing irritation. While they are busy shooting each other loaded glances, Bucky reaches for his Wii controllers fully determined to move their discussion to less personal things, like how horrible Clint is at Mario Kart.


When in doubt, Mario Kart.


“If I win the first round, you have to pick up Thai for dinner.” He says tossing Clint one of the controllers.


“That’s not fair.” Clint frowns as he slowly looks away from Natasha. “You always win.”


“Because you suck at Mario Kart.”


“I could always play for Barton.” Natasha suggest blandly disinterested.


Bucky cuts off Clint’s happy sound of agreement with a growl. “I swear to god Barton if you let her sub for you, I’m never speaking to you again. And you don’t get to see my new puppy.”


Clint’s shoulders slump as he settles further back into the couch, preparing for his epic loss. “So I guess our little plan ended up work out?”


“Yeah,” Bucky mutters. “Don’t sound too proud of yourself, if Pancake wasn’t there it probably would have failed miserably.”


“Pancake?” Clint questions as the first race starts up. “Who the fuck is Pancake?”


“That’s my dog’s name you ass wipe.” Bucky says through clenched teeth as he brings Bowser around a tight curve.


“Please god, tell me you didn’t name him that?” Clint begs as Toad falls off the race track once more.


“And what, like Pizza Dog is any better?”


Jesus, Clint was really awful at this game. Like seriously, a baby could beat him.


“His name is Lucky.” Barton grunts as his car speeds past the finish line, dead last.


“Something, you are not.” Bucky laughs.


Natasha slides the computer to the floor and sinks down onto the couch cushion separating Bucky and Clint, reaching for her boyfriend’s controller. “Let me play.” She says.


Barton, the asshole, cackles. It’s a close race, Bucky just barely coming in second place.


“So when are you picking up the mutt?” Clint asks as Bucky switches off the Wii and throws his controller on the table.


Bucky shrugs. “I don’t know whenever someone from the shelter comes over for a house visit I guess.”


“I can stop by tomorrow,” Natasha offers, leaning into Clint’s space. “See if I can help move the process along.”


“You don’t have to do that.” Bucky says. He would actually love if Natasha did that. He doesn’t know what she would do to make it work - she’s not very forth coming about whatever she does for the government - but Bucky would be all for it if it meant he’d have Pancake home sooner rather than later.


For only spending a few minutes with the pup, Bucky feels as if Pancake had always been part of his life. Not having him near, not having him home is one of the most painful things Bucky’s felt. And he’s had more than his fair share of pain.


Natasha just hums and snuggles deeper into Clint’s chest. She flips on a movie, something with fifty era cars and two dumb asses standing in the rain.
“What the fuck are we watching?” He asks grabbing a pillow and holding it to his chest.


“The Notebook.” Clint responds, immediately sucked into the movie, his eyes glued to the screen.


“Who would have thought,” Bucky says. “That’d you’d be such a sap Barton.”


A wayward hand smacks him lightly on the head but Bucky brushes it off with a smile. After the movie’s credits roll, Natasha and Clint say their goodbyes leaving Bucky’s apartment empty once more. He eyes the stack of manuscripts on his desk, biting his lip. He knows he could get a head start now and have at least half of them done before tomorrow or he could call it a night and curse his laziness in the morning.


Laziness wins out, as usual.


He checks the lock on his front door before falling gracelessly onto his bed, his eyes slipping shut before he can curl up under the sheets.