Chapter Text
"Want ice cream?" Bucky asked as she hopped on the bike, waving at the twig on the sidewalk. The Wayne kid was holding onto a huge bag from a toy store, and looking decidedly displeased, but once they'd stared at each other for about a minute, Bucky decided he had better things to do than get into a staring contest with a teenager.
"I just had some when I got here, but if you wanna stop for some, I'm down," Emma said, with that knowing look on her face.
She pulled her purple helmet over her head, and wrapped her arms around his waist. Bucky kicked the bike into gear, and they roared out of the parking lot. The bike still worked wonderfully, and Emma was sort of ridiculously proud of both it and Bucky.
They stopped at a gas station, and grabbed some snacks in the store while he loaded up the tank. While they waited, Emma swung up on the bike, ripping open her bag of Doritos.
"So what's on your mind?" she asked, looking up at him as she grabbed a chip from the red plastic bag. Bucky still wasn't entirely convinced that was actual chips, and they definitely couldn't be potatoes in any shape or form. The future held a lot of surprises, but the amount of bullshit and additives that went into food still blew his mind sometimes. 'Course, Stevie had pointed out that Bucky had smoked without giving it a second thought at one point. Tar in his lungs and lime green soda in his stomach were two different things though.
"Don't know. Just been feeling a little antsy. Darcy asked what was up and I didn't really know what to tell her, since I don't know either."
"Does it feel bad? With her?"
"No. No. Nothing like that," he muttered, leaning back against the bike. Emma swung her legs around so they were facing the same way. "I think I'm just not... used to being in the same place for this long."
"I think if it was those kinds of jitters, you'd be feeling them a lot earlier than this, babe. You've come really far since we started being friends, y'know, but every recovery has the chance for a backslide. Dr. Kyle says you don't have to feel amazing all the time just because you're getting better. Some days are still shitty."
Bucky's non-metallic fingers drummed over the leather of the seat, and Emma raised her eyebrows at the nervous gesture. "I wouldn't use the word shitty. Just... antsy. Like I want to do something and I don't know what it is, even though I should know what it is. It's niggling in the back of my mind and driving me up the wall."
"That far, huh?" Emma mused. "Well, I don't see you itching much at all about anything but Darcy nowadays. I know you've met the rest of her family and it wasn't that awful. Are they pressuring you guys or something?"
"Not that I know of. Darcy's job is good with the Avengers, so they like that. Her mom's nice, and her brothers and sisters don't seem to hate me or anything. Her brother has kids, like... Real kids."
Emma laughed. "Generally, kids are pretty real, yeah. Are they nice?"
"Sort of like Peter, except less shy. They did scream a lot, but just... Happy screams. It was weird," Bucky said, but the look on his face said it wasn't a bad kind of weird, just surprising. Maybe a little intriguing. "Hard to tell from other screams, sometimes."
"Yeah, sometimes I'll see white walls and it'll feel like I'm back at Ralph's place. Like I said, recovery is a bitch, no matter what got you on your knees in the first place," Emma said, kicking her legs a little, like a much younger child. "You're in a pretty good headspace nowadays, though. Got a bike, time to heal, a steady girlfriend, et cetera."
"Because of you."
"And yourself, and Darcy, and Steve, and mom, and- actually, there isn't any sole credit to go to anyone, if you wanna hand out credit. You're doing good, is what I mean. Maybe the next step isn't to, like, move into a house in the suburbs, get a wife and 2.5 kids with a dog, maybe it's just acknowledging that that's not what you want." Bucky pressed his lips together. Emma's eyebrows raised. "Or is that what you want?"
He scratched at the back of his head, his eyes sweeping over the parking lot reflexively. "I don't know."
"Huh. Well, I didn't see that coming," Emma grinned. "You really want kids?"
"I don't know," he repeated, feeling like a broken record. "You know I can't, anyway."
"Miracles happen," she said sagely. "I mean, you've cheated death a couple of times."
"Yeah, I know. That's part of the reason why I can't have kids," he scowled. Emma giggled.
"Alright, you got me there. Do you trust me?" she asked, holding a pinkie out, one that wasn't covered in fake-cheese.
"Yes," he murmured, hooking his left pinkie with hers.
"Then trust me when I say love conquers all, and that you'll have kids if you want them," she declared.
"I doubt love can heal my messed up body, but thanks for the enthusiasm."
Emma shrugged, her eyes glinting with seriousness. "Worked pretty good with the head, I guess I thought it'd translate to other body parts."
Bucky scoffed. "Wipe your hands. Let's get you back home in bed."
She hopped off the bike, crumpling the bag in her hand. "You know who you should talk to about this stuff, too? Your girlfriend."
He grunted, and she rolled her eyes, pressing up against his side in a quick hug before she sucked her orange fingers into her mouth. Bucky made a disgusted noise, wrinkling his nose.
"Go wash your hands, don't lick them. Jesus, who raised you? Huh?"
Emma laughed, muffled by her fingers. "Wolves."
"Wonder why they didn't eat you. Shoo!" She snickered again, and hopped off to the bathrooms, still with her crumpled bag in hand.
---
With his precious cargo having been dropped off in her parents' bed, Bucky made his way down to his own apartment floor. Talking to Emma seemed to help his mind sort things out. She knew him pretty well, sometimes even better than he felt he knew himself. Steve was his best friend, of course, but Emma was something else entirely.
Darcy was curled up on the couch, glasses on and in sweatpants and one of his sweaters. On the coffee table stood a mug of hot tea, and a bunch of papers were scattered over the whole wooden surface, along with several highlighters in different colors. Her hair had been pulled away from her face with a clip, and she was squinting at the papers like they were currently the bane of her existence. Victoria was curled up on the other side of the couch, asleep.
"Hey babe, 's Emma home safe?" Darcy asked without looking up. Bucky took a moment just to drink the image of her, comfortable in their apartment and looking like a goddamn dream.
"Yeah. Can we talk?"
Darcy's eyebrows flew up, and she looked up at him. "Oh god. An adult conversation?"
Despite himself, Bucky cracked a grin. "Yeah. Sort of."
"Only sort of?" she asked, but made a note of where she was on her paper and put it down on the coffee table, in whatever precarious order she had going on.
He shrugged, and sank down on the couch. Darcy tossed her legs into his lap, a worried frown edging in on her gorgeous face.
"What's the matter?"
Bucky thought about that, and pressed his lips together. "We need to talk about the future."
"Oh. Do we have to?"
"It's starting to make me itch. So yeah."
She grimaced, and sat up further. "Okay. Well, what are you itchy about?"
He considered that, and pulled his one leg up on the couch, so he could more comfortably face her. Darcy reacted in kind, pulling a leg up and tilting her head at him.
"Everything, I guess. Just... Where we're going." He made a face. "God, doll, you're making me sound like a mushy rom com." Darcy smirked.
"'S not so bad. You can pull it off, babe," she snickered. "You want to know where we're going? Okay, um. Well, I thought we'd stay together for a couple years more, at least, if that sounds good to you?"
Bucky smiled, looking up at her and cupping her face with his metal hand. He was getting better at that, pretending like his left arm was just any other part of himself. "Yeah. That sounds amazing." His smile dimmed. "Just a few concerns."
"Adult concerns?" Darcy asked, wrinkling her nose. Bucky chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to her nose.
"Yeah. I'd like us to hash it out a bit now."
"Why? We've got time."
He sucked in a deep breath. "I just don't want you to wake up in ten years and realize being with me was the worst mistake of your life."
Darcy's sweet mouth dropped open a little, before she pursed her lips, a determined set to her eyebrows. "It could never be."
"I can't have kids, Darcy. Hydra didn't want me to have kids, so I can't," he confessed silently. Her determined frown relaxed into a relieved smile.
"Oh, that. Yeah, I know," she said softly. He blinked, making her huff. "We've had sex without condoms many times, and despite me thinking that maybe the gods are just with us, I've had an inkling. It doesn't surprise me, exactly."
Bucky blinked. "And you're just... Cool with that?"
She shrugged. "It's not like I want kids right now, or anything."
"Now, yeah, sure. But what about in two years? Five? Seven?" Bucky replied desperately.
"We'll blow that bridge up when we get to it," she tried to soothe, grabbing his hands.
"No, Darcy, we can't," he sighed, pulling back his real hand to card it through his hair and tug. "I can't give you a house with a white picket fence and- and two point five kids and a minivan-"
Darcy held her hands up. "Well hey now, where did this come from? Who says I want that? Who says you have to want that?"
"Well, you can't blame a guy for assuming."
She snorted. "I haven't even been at my new job for six months. We haven't even been dating for two years! Trust me when I say I'm not looking to settle down right this second."
"Like I said, we're talking future, doll, not right this second. I want you to have what you want."
Darcy huffed. "Good thing that's not exactly what I'm looking for then!"
"What are you looking for, then?"
"I don't know, but I know it certainly doesn't have to be that. Like I said, we have time."
Bucky shook his head in frustration. "I just- I don't want to be the source of your unhappiness!"
"Hey, don't ever think that. I'm with you because you make me happy, James. You've never been the source of any unhappiness for me." Her eyes were soft when gazing at him, too soft. He couldn't look her in the eye and say what he needed to at the same time, for the risk of getting sucked into her sphere.
"Maybe I'm not making you unhappy now, but I know how built-up resentment works, trust me. I don't want that for us."
She leaned her chin against her knee. "Would it make you feel better if I say that I don't want kids?"
Bucky blinked. "How can you know that you'll never want kids?"
She shrugged. "I just don't think I'd ever have the time or the stamina. How my mom raised all those kids with barely any help honestly baffles me to this day."
"I don't know what I want," he admitted. Darcy raised an eyebrow at him.
"I thought you had it figured out," she said, gently laying her hand in the crook of his elbow. Bucky shrugged and looked away.
"AJ is sorta cute, y'know? I guess Peter's made me pretty amenable to kids, and Emma too. Maybe one day I'll be able to... To go through that. Either way, I can't have kids."
"But you like kids. We can adopt, if we ever get the itch. Foster kids need homes," she said softly.
"Yeah? You think you'd ever make an honest man out of me?" he asked, finally smiling and looking back at her. Darcy laughed, snorting as she covered her mouth and squeezed his thigh.
"You think just cause it's a new century, I'm gonna propose to you? Oh no, if you want this hot piece of ass, you're gonna have to put a ring on it yourself. Are we done with this adult conversation now?"
"Almost," Bucky promised. "Want to get a dog?"
"Wha-Are you serious?"
He shrugged. "I've never had a dog before. Lucky's a pretty cool dog. You reminded me when you said foster kids need homes."
"You want to adopt a dog?" she asked, her voice soft and reverent. He shrugged uncomfortably.
"I guess, if that's how it's done. I'm pretty sure Barton stole his dog, and Natasha knows too many shady russian cat-ladies for Victoria to be anything but a trade-off of favors," Bucky said, reaching back to smooth his hand over her fur, making her one eye pop open. When she saw who it was, she began purring, and settled down again to sleep.
"I did always wonder about how speedily they got that cat in their arms."
"Like I said, Natasha knows somebody. Always does."
Darcy smiled at him. "Maybe we don't take any big decisions right this second, huh? Seems like you've been thinking about this a lot, but I gotta process too. Besides, if we got a dog, you wouldn't be able to get a job anytime soon, and I know you've been keeping an eye on the wanted ads."
He nodded, looking back down at Victoria again. "Sounds fair."
"Hey. Look at me." When he met her beautiful blue eyes, she smiled softly. "I love you."
Something fluttered in his stomach, something warm and soft that terrified him. Despite that, he smiled. "I love you too."
---
Vision was sitting on the common room couch, watching Pietro eat popcorn with surprising speed, even for him. It was fascinating, the fact that he hadn't choked on it yet. His twin, sitting on the other side of him, had a nose wrinkled in disgust.
"You're a pig," she declared in Sokovian. Vision had noticed that the rate of which the siblings spoke in Sokovian had increased recently due to them spending more time alone with each other. The amount of tests they were subjected to had decreased, as had the general population of people in the tower. Vision had also noticed that they were rarely noticed when they stayed in the same room as the other occupants, which was good. It made their observations easier.
"What happened to being nice to me? You're never nice to me anymore," Pietro complained, his words obscured by his full mouth.
Wanda brushed flying popcorn kernels from her maroon sweater. "Spit popcorn in my face again and I'll be even less nice. Don't tempt me."
"It's Emma. She's rubbing off on you. Call me a pig again and I'm telling Clint."
"I just can't believe we haven't been here long enough for you to learn some better manners," Wanda huffed, kicking Pietro's thigh and nearly toppling the large popcorn bowl in his lap.
"Shit! Would you stop it?" he huffed. "And what do you mean, manners? I've always had great manners."
"I believe it would be 'better manners' of you to offer her a handful of popcorn rather than eating it all yourself."
Both twins' heads' turned to stare at Vision.
"Since when does walking-talking-microwave speak Sokovian?" Pietro asked, eyebrows raised in what Vision registered as surprise.
"I am programmed to find information and attempt to connect. Seeing as it is your native language, I thought it would be... nice," they said a little tenatively.
Wanda chortled, leaning forward a little, indicating interest. "You learned a language to make friends?"
"Pretty pathetic," Pietro pointed out.
She tilted her head at Vision, and shoved her twin with her toe again. "No. I think it's sweet. More effort than you make."
"I- Thank you," Vision said, knowing that 'sweet' was a compliment. Still, they were a little startled. While Emma expressed similar sentiments often, it was generally only her and Tony, their creator, who expressed it.
Wanda tilted her head at him, her eyes flashing scarlet, and smiled. It was small, but its radiance was like the moon, and Vision stored the visual in their memory banks for further perusal at a later time.
After all, staring and processing was, as Miss Bishop had described it, 'crazy creepy' of them.
---
Clint and Natasha met up with Coulson to discuss the details of their mission the next day, and Emma managed to convince them that she was perfectly healthy enough to go to Damian's place and hang out like she'd promised.
Despite her best efforts, a time limit was set today too, though she convinced them to let her stay for dinner, if Bucky picked her up afterwards.
"Again, what am I, your driver?" Bucky asked when she bounced around his and Darcy's aparment, waiting for him to get ready and drive her there.
"Yes! Of course you are. I can't get a licence yet, and you spend all your time just hanging out at the tower. I can't commandeer you a little?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips.
Bucky grunted. "Fair point. I'm getting a job though."
"Yeah, you keep saying that, babe, and I'm uber-supportive, but at the same time, I'm starting to doubt. You're usually pretty ready to go when you really want something," she pointed out. "Except when the PTSD pops up. Is it popping up?"
"No," he said, appearing from out of the bathroom, pulling his shirt over his head. "I just... I didn't exactly have a good job back... back then. Don't know what I qualify as now. Can't be a firefighter, too much PTSD, can't be a police officer, never actually went to an academy and doing so now would probably trigger my PTSD, can't go to medical school or anyting, because I don't actually have a college degree, and oh, right, looking at bodies would trigger my PTSD!" he snapped, going for his shoes by the door and snatching them off the floor.
Emma raised her eyebrows. He really was bothered by this. When he reached for the shoe-laces, she dropped down in front of him and waved his hands away. If he was this agitated, he was only going to snap them in half, and that always pissed him off even more.
"Let me," she insisted, and he huffed, but let her tie his shoes up. "How about a bouncer, then? That doesn't demand a college degree, and 's not like you're not used to late nights, plus if you don't know you, your face is terrifying at times!"
"Probably too close to the mobs. Don't like the thought of that coming after me again."
"Again? Dude."
He waved a dismissive hand in the air, brushing his hair back from his face. "Call me gross and old-fashioned, but I'm starting to feel a little useless doing nothing. Maybe that's why I'm antsy."
Emma patted his feet, and reached out her hands."Well hey, Darcy's job is pretty sweet, you can just be a trophy husband for the rest of your life. That probably wouldn't trigger you."
He scoffed, but pulled her to her feet, and patted the pockets of his jacket hanging by the elevator. "What do trophy husbands do, then?"
"Well, nothing, I suppose. Or take care of kids. Or pay someone to take care of the kids? I don't actually remember a lot from the Real Housewives I've seen," Emma said, wrinkling her nose as Bucky nudged her into the elevator and pressed the button for the common room floor, so he could get the keys to his bike. "Jarvis, what's the actual definition of a trophy husband?"
"Urban dictionary states it to be 'a man with an amazing body who sits at home all day, mooching off his wife's money', Miss Emma," Jarvis said patiently.
Emma waved her hand excitedly. "See? You could do that!"
"I don't mooch," Bucky said decisively as they stepped out on the common floor. Tony was by the kitchen island, looking like he hadn't slept at all last night, and was considering putting his coffee in an IV-drip, if only he could still get a taste of it.
"Oh yeah?" Tony laughed, waving his mug at them. "What about off of me?"
Bucky snagged his keys off the hook, and shot Tony a blank look. "I provide occasional free childcare and something you can never give your own husband, which is a piece of his past."
"Jesus, you should be happy I'm very confident in my marriage," Tony said, but there was a struck look in his eyes. "Where are you guys going?"
"I'm going to Damian's!" Emma declared cheerfully, trying to get the mood in the room to match her tone. It didn't really help, only made Tony sigh, and put his chin in his palm.
"Oh, young love. Don't be out too late, and don't get pregnant. Your mom would absolutely kill me, even more than she already wishes she had," he grinned, but the tightness around his eyes said it wasn't a hundred percent a joke.
Emma laughed anyways. "Okay, you need to go take a nap. Isn't it Peter's naptime soon? Go nap with him. Doctor's orders."
"I'll have you know I have several more doctorates than you," he pointed out.
"Shut up, one day I'm gonna have eight whole PhDs!" Emma declared. Tony raised his coffee mug.
"Sounds like a plan. I'll get you that sweet, sweet tuition money."
Emma blinked. "Wait, seriously?"
Tony blinked back. "Well, you need to go to college at some point, and it's not like I don't have the money. What, were you going to pay it? I have money saved for whatever wedding you might like too, if your parents don't get hitched."
She laughed, shaking her head. "Thanks Tony. You're really sweet. You know I still love you even if you don't pay for my college or wedding or... anything, right?"
"Right," he said, but he sounded too sarcastic for Emma's liking, so she dashed forward to give him a kiss on the cheek before she tugged Bucky into the elevator with her.
"See you tonight! Love you!" she called before the doors closed. "Hey, is he still upset about the Hulk going after me?"
Bucky shrugged. "Your mom."
"Okay, what have we said about sexist jokes like that?"
He shook his head in exasperation. "No, I- Your mom is upset. Not Tony."
"Oh. Well, what for?"
He shrugged, again, because he was horribly unhelpful sometimes. "That Tony didn't protect you, and then shrugged your injuries off because you heal."
Emma pushed him out into the garage. "Well, I do heal, y'know."
"'S not the point, doll," he said, shaking his head as he grabbed his helmet off the bike, and tossed Emma's purple one to her.
She put her hands on her hips decisively. "Well, I guess I'll have to remind everyone of how good I'm feeling!"
"Please don't, if it's gonna cost you your leg. Do you want a ride or not?" he asked, and Emma grinned at him.
"Don't be so impatient. We'll figure something out that you can do, don't worry. Push comes to shove, you can always go to college, I guess," she said, shoving her helmet on and straddling the bike.
"Don't remind me," he muttered, and they pulled out of the garage with Emma's gleeful giggles echoing off the walls.
---