4

Bucky POV 

The next morning, Steve comes into the kitchen while I'm washing dishes and freezes. 

"Oh my god, I didn't even know you were here!" he says. 

Don't lie right to my face, Rogers. He totally knew I was here. He did that on purpose. He made me listen to them to make me want to leave. 

"Why wouldn't I be here?" 

"You didn't attack me when I came home." 

"Where else would I be?" 

"I don't know," he shrugs. "Having a girls' night out with Wanda or Natasha?"

"Well, I was here."

"Why didn't you say anything?" 

"You were... busy." 

He laughs and leans against the counter next to me, hiding his face in his hands, embarrassed. I also laugh so he doesn't notice how it kills me to think abou thim being with her. 

"I am... so, so sorry about that," he says earnestly. 

No, he isn't. He's not sorry. He did it on purpose and I know it.

"It's fine, Stevie." I smile at him as a good finishing touch to the lie I've been living. "I understand. Just... warn me in advance next time, okay? So I can actually have a girls' night out with Wanda and Natasha and not be scarred for life again." 

He laughs some more and I almost start crying because I'm seriously not joking.

"Stevie?" A voice calls from the hallway. "Who are you talking to?" 

Umm. That's my nickname for Steve. Give it back. 

Jennifer joins us in the kitchen and I frown, noticing she's wearing one of Steve's shirts. I mean, I am too, but that's different. Steve's shirts fit me. 

"Oh, you must be the roommate! Hi, I'm Jennifer." 

She holds out her left hand for a handshake. I take my wet hands out of the sink and dry them on a nearby dish towel before offering my metal hand. She stares at it for a moment before shaking it enthusiastically. 

"James Barnes." I tell her my real first name because I don't want her to call me Bucky. I don't know this lady. We are not on a nickname basis. 

"He goes by Bucky," Steve says and I give him the most intense look of utter betrayal. 

"If I wanted her to call me Bucky, I would have said that," I sass. 

"Bucky, calm down." Steve gives me a warning look and then addresses Jennifer. "Sorry about him. He gets sarcastic when he's nervous. New people make him nervous." 

I'm right here. I can hear him. I'd rather he didn't treat me like a toddler. 

"It's alright." They're literally talking through me and I don't appreciate it. "I'm gonna go get dressed. It was nice meeting you, Bucky." 

"James," I growl at her. 

"Sorry. James." 

She leaves the room and Steve immediately turns on me. 

"Buck, why are you being so rude?" 

"I'm not rude; I'm gruff." 

"Not usually."

"Well, I don't like her." I know I said I don't want to ruin this for Steve, but I think Jennifer is a bitch.

"Because she looked at your arm? Lots of people are going to stare at your arm, Bucky. It's an unusual feature." 

No, it's not because she looked at my arm. It's because she looked at Steve. 

"It's not- Nevermind. Can we just forget about it?" 

"Are you going to be nice to Jennifer?" 

I shake my head and get back to doing the dishes. 

"C'mon. I want her to like you." 

"I don't care whether she likes me or not." 

"Why are you suddenly being so bratty?" 

I'm not being bratty. I'm being perfectly reasonable. I don't trust her. 

I glare at Steve and he rolls his eyes and tells me to grow up and stop pouting. I'm not pouting. I'm being menacing. 

Jennifer comes back, wearing her own clothes, and I start hoping she's getting ready to leave. 

"How about I make breakfast?" Steve suggests. 

"You can't, Stevie," I crush his hopes and dreams. "We're all out of eggs." 

"Oh. Then I'll go pick up some more." He grabs the motorcycle keys off the counter and leaves before Jennifer and I could protest. 

Once he's gone, Jennifer and I just stare at each other. 

"What happened to your arm?" she asks after a few awkward minutes. 

"None of your business." I finish washing the dishes and dry my hands again. 

"It's very cool." She suddenly grabs my left hand and holds my arm up to examine it. "What's it made of?" 

"Don't touch me," I snarl, pulling my arm away from her. 

"Do you have any other metal parts?" 

"No." 

"Oh. How have you been sleeping? Stevie told me that you weren't sleeping well." 

Wow. Steve is just betraying me left and right today. 

"He said he wasn't talking about me behind my back," I say quietly. 

"It wasn't anything bad!" she tries to be reassuring. "He just wanted to help you." 

"It didn't help."

"I'm sorry to hear that. You could try-" 

"No."

"Try melatonin. It always helps me fall asleep faster." 

"Falling asleep isn't the problem. Stop suggesting things and stop letting Steve talk about me."

I try to walk past her but she keeps moving to stand in front of me. 

"Steve talks about you a lot!" she says brightly. "Sometimes he complains about you, but usually he just drones on and on about you with this lovesick look in his eyes. It's disgusting."

"Great." 

"Anyway, enough about Steve. I wanna know more about you. How old are you?" 

She tries to put her hand on my chest but I grab her wrist with my metal hand, lifting her up and holding it tightly and looking as threatening as possible while also not hurting her. Unfortunately, Steve walks through the door at that very moment. 

"Bucky!" he says commandingly. "Let her go!" 

The way he speaks shocks me and I just stare at him. He's yelling at me like one might yell at a bad dog. I am not a dog. 

Right? 

Well. I do sleep on the floor. And I'm already used to being treated like a dog. I just figured Steve would want to treat me like a human being. He's got the harsh tone down perfectly. All that's left is the muzzle and the leash. 

"Bucky." He looks furious. I look at my hand and realize I still haven't let go of Jennifer's arm. "Drop her. Now." 

That's definitely a dog command. 

I let go of her wrist and she falls to the floor. I stare down at her coldly as Steve rushes to help her up. He asks if she's okay and she just asks if he got the eggs. 

"James Buchanan, go wait in your room," Steve tells me. "We'll talk about this in a minute." 

I continue to stare at them until Steve repeats, "Go!" 

Maybe he does think I'm a dog. I don't want to be a dog. I've seen people kick their dogs. I don't want Steve to kick me. Maybe he won't kick me if I'm obedient. 

As I walk to my room, I hear Jennifer say, "Steve, it's not his fault. I provoked him." 

"He should know better." 

I stand in the middle of the room and wait for Steve to come punish me. Three minutes later, Steve comes in and shuts the door. 

"I'll leave," I offer quietly before he has a chance to start yelling. 

"What?" 

"I'll leave," I say again. "I can go right now." 

The only things here that really belong to me are my notebooks and my hat, which are all already packed into my backpack. 

"I don't want you to leave, Buck." He sits down on the bed and pats the spot next to him, silently telling me to sit down. I do. "I just want to know what happened. Why did you freak out all of a sudden?" 

"I don't know." I'm not going to tell him that his girlfriend was asking questions so I attacked her. That would just make me look overdramatic. 

"That's not a good enough answer, Bucky." He laughs humorlessly. "We need to know if something's going on in your head. If the Soldier is going to start making appearances again, we need to do something about it. You have to tell me what's going on, pal." 

"Nothing is going on, Steve!" I snap at him. 

"If it happens again, we're going to a doctor. Apologize to Jennifer." 

He gets up and walks away. I stay where I am, feeling kind of neglected. Usually there's some sort of physical contact after serious talks. Usually Steve says something like "Good talk," and hugs me or touches my shoulder. I miss touchy Steve. 

The cellphone that I left on the nightstand vibrates and I state at it blankly for a few moments before grabbing it. I have three new texts from Wanda. 

Wanda: Bucky are you free today? 

Wanda: What I mean is, are you free right now? 

Wanda: I want you to come over right now. I want to practice putting makeup on other faces than mine and no one else will volunteer their face. 

Bucky: I don't wear makeup. 

Wanda: Good! Your face is fresh. I don't know if it makes a difference, but it will be fun to hear you say that makeup feels weird. 

Bucky: I don't want to wear makeup. 

Wanda: But you will look so pretty. 😥 

Bucky: I don't want to. 

Wanda: Please briefly be a mannequin. 

Bucky: No. 

Wanda: I will let you vent. I know you are upset right now. I am good at advice. Do we have ourselves a deal? 

Bucky: Fine. 

Wanda: Fantastic! Come over this instant. 

Bucky: I have to ask Steve. I'm not allowed to drive or leave the house by myself. 

Wanda: Don't even bother. I have already asked Tony Stark to get you. He sent a car. I live in his house, you know. It is the Avengers' house. 

Bucky: I know. When did he send a car? 

Wanda: Before I texted you. 

Bucky: Wow. 

I put the phone in my pocket and leave the bedroom to go find Steve. He's in the kitchen again with Jennifer. 

"I'm sorry I hurt you," I quickly say to Jennifer. "Steve, can I go see Wanda? She needs me." 

"Yeah, go ahead." He doesn't even look at me. "Do you need me to drive you?" 

"She said Stark sent a car." The phone buzzes. It's a text from Wanda, saying the car is outside. "It's here." 

"Don't forget your curfew," Steve reminds. 

Oh yeah. Curfew. If I'm not home by exactly 9pm and Steve isn't with me, Steve has to call the police. If an Avenger can't or won't vouch for my whereabouts, I can go to prison for it. Tony Stark would never vouch for my whereabouts, so I have to be home by nine. 

"I won't," I promise, and go out to the car. It's running, but there's no driver. 

Bucky: There isn't anyone in the driver's seat. 

Wanda: It self drives. 

Bucky: I don't trust it. 

The car drives itself away from the house. It's fine so far, but I wouldn't be surprised if this car was still in its testing phase and could possibly explode. 

Wanda: Tony says it is perfectly safe! 

Bucky: I trust it less now. 

Wanda: It's safe. You still shave your face, yes? 

Bucky: Yes. 

Wanda: Oh good. I don't want to do makeup around a gross beard. You still have long hair, yes? 

Bucky: Yes. 

Wanda: Then I can also practice hair. 

I roll my eyes and put the phone away. When the car eventually stops at Stark's Avenger House, I see Wanda standing on the front lawn with a big grin on her face. She's holding a hairbrush in one hand and a bag of makeup stuff in the other and is jumping up and down excitedly. 

(I definitely skipped a movie but I can't figure out which one. I'm pretty sure the avengers dont live in the tower anymore, right? So where do they live.)