Chapter Text
I'll comfort you as best I can
If you need, if you need me you can call
If you need, if you need if you need me baby
To see someone you care about that way
That must be what people mean when they say
They know God
To see the strength in someone that you know
That must be what people mean when they show
They know God
'Cause I believe in you
- They Know God (But I Know You), Peter & Kerry
“Buck?” Steve stage-whispers, throwing his weight on top of Bucky, straddling him. “Buck? You up?”
“Оставь меня в покое.” Bucky mutters, his eyes closed.
Steve rolls his eyes, pushing down at Bucky’s muscular chest with two hands. The man doesn't budge.
“Wake up!” he demands urgently, “Also, English would be preferable.”
Bucky squints up at him with one eye open. “Христос. Why do you have so much energy? Didn’t we make love like twenty minutes ago? You should be Jell-O by now.” Bucky blinks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with a soft groan, his metal hand resting on Steve’s thigh, covering the width of it easily. “Am I losing my touch?”
“Hardly,” Steve snorts, pressing a soft kiss to Bucky’s nose. Steve still had a deeply satisfied hum throughout his body--if anything, the more time they spent together, the more they learned each other bodies, and what was already amazing began to build into something next-level. “That was two hours ago, Buck. I woke up like, I dunno, thirty minutes ago. Because guess what?”
“Hmm?”
Steve frowns down at him, suspicious that Bucky didn’t catch on right away. He was the one who had been counting down the days for weeks. “It’s Sunday.”
“Mm, Sunday,” Bucky yawns, tugging Steve closer. He forces Steve’s face into his neck and closes his eyes again. “Sunday is a good day. We do pancakes on Sundays.”
Steve struggles to be free but Bucky’s grip is strong. He kicks his legs and Bucky snorts into his hair, laughing. “Lemme go, you big lug!”
“Sunday is a good day,” Bucky repeats. “Pancakes.”
Steve frowns into Bucky’s neck, pushing his hands hard against Bucky’s solid chest in an attempt to getaway. Bucky kisses his temple, unperturbed by the struggle he was putting up. “Do you remember what today is?”
“Nope...don’t seem to recall it being special or nothin’...” Bucky trails off sleepily, but Steve can hear the smile in his voice, and he knows Bucky is playing with him.
“Is that so?” Steve presses suspiciously. “S’only been five years since we said I do ... s’nothing special…”
Bucky’s snorting becomes full-on laughter. He grabs Steve’s face in both his hands and kisses him, hard, his tongue licking curiously into Steve’s mouth. Just as Steve is preening under the attention, ready to get down to business, Bucky pulls back, smiling softly. “Happy anniversary, возлюбленная.”
“Happy anniversary, Buck,” Steve smiles back just as sweetly, rolling his eyes. “Jerk. You had me there for a second, you know.”
“I know,” Bucky sighed happily, rolling them so he was hovering on top of Steve. “You didn’t really think I’d forget, did you? After five years?”
Steve arches a brow at Bucky’s sleepy face, and then lets out a defeated sigh. “No. You’re too much of a romantic to forget.”
“Hmm,” Bucky kisses Steve’s neck. “Do you think we have time...before?”
“I think so. I haven’t heard a peep since I’ve been awake,” Steve grins, leaning up to press their lips together. He was more than ready for a round two. Bucky, in the soft morning light, shirtless, with bed head? Yeah, Steve was drooling already, thank you very much.
Bucky chuckles darkly against Steve’s skin, his lips pressing hungry kisses down his neck and along his jaw.
Five years hadn’t changed them much.
They still lived in the very same apartment that had led Steve to Bucky, both of them much too attached to the place to let it go, albeit with some nicer furniture, including enough seating for the entire team to hang out in the living room.
Bucky was still completing missions with the Avengers, although it was on a less frequent basis, now that Hydra had been pretty much eliminated, except for a few small factions that were scattered around Europe. The Avengers sent foot soldiers in to clean up those places, since they were weak and unorganized, and thus easy enough to bring down.
Steve was back to doing classes at the VA after taking the past year or so off, which is what he really loved, to help people with his art, but he also took the odd mission here and there, just to keep up on his skills.
They both had a lot of time at home, though, these days, which was good.
Bucky had the beginnings of crow’s feet around his eyes when he smiled, and Steve’s back pain had been getting worse--he’d even found a few white hairs in Bucky’s stubble the other day...but other than those few signs of the years passing by, things were mostly unchanged.
“Daddy! Papa!”
Oh...right. Except for maybe one tiny new addition.
Bucky grins toothily, rolling off of Steve with a soft sigh. “Here comes trouble.”
Steve slides off of the bed with a light chuckle, their sexy-time interrupted. It would have to wait until later. He pulls on some sweats and unlocks the bedroom door, swinging it open.
Sarah comes flying in, her tiny bare feet padding quickly into the room, her blond hair mussed from sleep, poking up in many different directions.
“Mornin’, sugar,” Bucky croons adoringly at her, already opening his arms to lift her onto the bed as she gets close. She accepts this offer happily, making room for herself between Steve and Bucky. “Someone climbed out of their big girl bed again, I see.”
“A little escape artist, just like her daddy,” Steve agrees, pressing a kiss to Sarah’s nose. She smells like sleep and baby powder. “Good morning, peanut.”
Sarah Rebecca Barnes came into their life when they least expected it.
Two years ago, when they’d been on a mission in Tyumen, Russia, they’d found Sarah abandoned in a ruined bassinet, just a few miles away from the Hydra facility, when Steve had wandered off from the mission upon hearing an infant crying.
She had been so tiny then, just a few months old, at most, with a tuft of blonde hair and the biggest, bluest eyes Steve had ever seen. Beside her head was a note that read прости меня-- “forgive me”.
The moment their eyes had met, Steve had known that he was destined to find that little girl, and when he reached in for her, her tiny hands grabbed onto his finger and held on so tightly he couldn’t help but burst into tears. Sarah, on the other hand, had halted her wailing the minute their skin touched, like Steve’s presence alone had been enough to comfort her.
He’d scooped her up, held her close, tucking her into his jacket to warm her up, and had found Bucky, telling him everything.
Bucky, too, was gone for her the minute he held her in his arms. There was never any discussion on if they should do something--only how. They had spoke briefly about having kids, but had never really decided on anything, until Sarah came into their lives. Then there was no choice--she had belonged to their hearts the minute they met.
That day, with the help of Pepper who pulled a few strings to make it happen, they left Russia with Sarah. A few months later, their adoption was official, and she was theirs.
To this day, Bucky calls her their miracle baby--it’s uncanny, the way she nearly resembles them both. Blonde hair like Steve’s, curly, like Bucky’s. The same blue eyes as Steve, Bucky’s crooked smile.
She was theirs in every sense of the word, and she had them both wrapped around her finger.
Truly, Sarah had every Avenger wrapped around her finger. There wasn’t anyone she met she didn’t charm with her grin and high-soprano laughter.
“Love you,” Sarah tells Bucky easily, out of nowhere. She’d just learned to say those words not long ago, and whenever she uttered them a part of Steve melted.
Bucky blinks dreamily at her. Steve would always fall in love with the way that Bucky loved Sarah--he didn’t think such a thing was possible, until he experienced it himself.
He was amazed by how seriously Bucky had taken the role of father, teaching Sarah about her Russian heritage when he could, and even teaching her the language with great success.
Bucky tickles her round belly lightly, making her giggle--and that was the happiest sound on earth. “Love you more, Умная девушка.”
“What about me!” Steve pretends to be offended, propping himself up on his elbow to raise an eyebrow at her. “Where is my love?”
“Love you, papa!” Sarah reassures him. She grabs his ears and presses a slobbery, baby-kiss to his cheek. “Love you!”
“I love you too, little one,” Steve coos, peppering her head and cheeks with kisses while she squeals beneath him, her tiny arms and legs going a mile a minute.
“Papa!” She yelps, through her laughter. “It tickles!”
“What did I teach you, Умная девушка?” Bucky prompts, as Steve attacks her with more kisses, his fingers tickling lightly at her sides. “Remember?”
Sarah looks over to Bucky through her fits of delighted laughter and then grows very serious. “Help!” Sarah cries out, and at the same time, she reaches her fingernails for Steve’s face.
“Okay!” Bucky’s metal arm shoots out just in time to stop her from actually scratching at Steve. “Remember, we only practice on Papa and Daddy, we don’t actually hurt them.”
Steve watches with an amused expression, staring at his husband. This was a new development. Bucky sometimes took Sarah to Daddy-and-Me yoga classes, but now Steve wonders if he really took her to the gym in the Tower and taught her how to seriously mess someone up. She was only a toddler, but smart as a whip, and Steve wouldn't put it past either of them.
“Sorry, Papa,” Sarah says sweetly, offering a toothy grin.
“You taught our daughter self-defence? When?” Steve gapes quietly, looking between Sarah, who looked completely composed, and Bucky, who looked about as proud as a peacock.
“She has an ex-assassin and a spy as her parents,” Bucky snorts, tugging Sarah close to his body with his metal arm and running his fingers through her blond curls.
When they first got Sarah, Bucky refused to ever touch her with his left hand, too afraid that he would hurt her accidentally, since she was so small and malnourished.
As she grew stronger though, she often reached for the metal hand alone, intrigued by the way the light bounced off of it.
Eventually, with some coaxing, Bucky trusted himself more and more. Now, he didn’t even think about which hand to touch her with, and his affection for her came easily. The two of them were inseparable.
“I think it’s a good skill to begin teaching her, just in case. Also...Auntie Nat wanted to give her a play knife to begin practice with, but I shot that one down. You’re welcome.” Bucky whispers above Sarah’s head.
His eyes widen in shock, though he knows he shouldn’t really be that surprised. “Thanks,” Steve says sarcastically.
“Crazy, right?” Bucky shakes his head. “We have to at least wait until she’s three.”
Steve gapes at him again, and opened his mouth to start going off about that statement, when Sarah tugs on Bucky’s hair lightly, making Bucky stick out his tongue at her.
Steve didn’t want to think about the possibility of Sarah ever being put in harm’s way, but it was something that he and Bucky had discussed. With Hydra mostly out of the picture, Steve felt safer having her out with him in public, but he was always watchful, never letting go of her hand until they were back in the apartment.
They’d upgraded the security system on the apartment to something Stark approved of, and Steve would consider their place safe, but. He still worried, as did Bucky.
“Sarah,” Bucky begins excitedly, rolling over off of his back to face her. “Do you know what today is?”
Sarah frowns, blinking her huge eyes up at Bucky, trying to put the pieces together. “Auntie Nat’s house?” She wonders aloud, her head tilting curiously.
“If you want, we can go see Auntie Nat later,” Steve agrees. Keeping Sarah away from the rest of the Avengers was impossible. She loved her aunts and uncles, and they couldn’t help but dote on her as well. Tony had tried building her a flying toy car that she could fit inside of to ride around in, but Steve and Bucky had shot that idea down quickly. They didn’t need their already active two-year-old being able to fly. “Today is a special day, though, peanut,” Steve grins.
“We have cake?” Sarah confirms, a delighted smile lighting up her face. Bucky hides his laughter in her golden hair. She had Bucky's sweet tooth.
“Later,” Steve promises. “But today is Daddy and Papa’s anniversary. Can you say anniversary?”
Sarah squints at him. “‘Nanniversary,” she tries, and then blinks up at Steve, waiting for his approval.
Bucky kisses her nose and beats Steve to it. “Very good, Умная девушка.”
She preens under the praise, looking quite proud of herself.
“Today, long before you were born, Daddy and Papa fell in love and got married,” Bucky explains patiently to her. Her blue eyes are locked on his, trying to make sense of the words.
“When Daddy was a ghost?” Sarah frowns, trying to connect the puzzle pieces.
She was beyond intelligent for her age, and sometimes Steve forgot how much she really understood. Bucky often sat her down and tried to explain to her his past, sparing her the terrible details of Hydra and glossing over the fact that he was made to do awful things, until she was old enough to really understand.
But she understood that her Daddy was from a long time ago, originally, and then was taken by some bad people who made him sad. He was trapped in the apartment until Papa came along, and they fell in love. Just like the fairytale stories she adores have read to her, Papa and Daddy kissed, and then Daddy’s curse was broken. Now, Papa and Daddy sometimes go to fight the bad guys to keep everybody safe, and she sometimes stays with Grandma Peggy or Aunt Pepper while that happens.
She accepted the story easily, the way young children trust so freely, with their open hearts and soft smiles.
Steve would tell her more, when she was ready. He didn’t know when he would be ready to see that innocent look on her face gone.
He can understand now, to some degree, why Bucky was so against Steve joining the team, all those years ago. Bucky always said it was about his light, and preserving it. Steve hadn’t really understood, then, not entirely, anyway.
But now, looking into Sarah’s deep blue eyes, he knew what Bucky had been talking about. Sarah had never faced evil before, just as Steve hadn’t, before he joined the team.
He couldn’t imagine the horror he’d feel when he saw that trusting look go out of his daughter’s eyes. He, like Bucky, didn’t want to be the one responsible for that.
But a day would come when it would be unavoidable.
“That’s right,” Bucky praises her again. “Today is a special day, because we’re celebratin’ how long Papa and I have been in love.”
Sarah nods seriously at that, grabbing onto Bucky’s chin with one hand, and Steve’s with the other, her tiny, dimpled fingers warm against Steve’s skin. “When the curse broke?” She asks again, blinking up at them both.
Bucky leans over her to press a chaste kiss to Steve’s lips, smiling softly at his husband. “When the curse was broken,” Bucky nods. “When Papa saved me.”
Steve feels a sudden swell of emotion, staring at his gorgeous little girl and his equally gorgeous husband. Bucky’s huge bulk, wrapped protectively around Sarah’s small shape. Steve never imagined how enraptured he’d be by watching Bucky fall in love with being a dad. It made Steve love him impossibly more.
“Daddy saved me, too,” Steve murmurs, his voice cracking a little. The soft morning light was casting the room in a golden glow, making the scene impossibly more serene.
Bucky looks up, startled, at Steve’s change in tone. “What is it, sweetheart? What’s wrong?”
Steve gives him a wobbly smile, shaking his head softly. “Grateful,” Steve says softly. “For this.”
Bucky gives him a knowing smile. “Me too, Ace. Every day.”
Sarah sits up, pressing another sloppy kiss to Steve’s cheek and wiping his tears away with her palm. “Papa is очень грустно,” Sarah tells Bucky quietly, her Russian coming easily to her.
“Yeah,” Bucky agrees gently, rubbing her back. “Ему нужна любовь, I think, арахис.”
Steve had no idea what they were saying. Sarah and Bucky often conversed in Russian whenever they could, and especially when they were talking about Steve.
Over the years, Steve had come to understand some of the common phrases that Bucky used a lot, like Russian curse words, or terms of endearment. But there was a lot he didn’t know, and Sarah had picked up the language with a lot more ease than he’d ever been able to.
“Papa?” Sarah whispers, wiping away another one of Steve’s tears with her small palm. “I’m on your team.”
That sweet voice only makes Steve’s tears flow more freely. I’m on your team is something Steve said to her whenever she cried. He scoops her up, curls her into him, and whispers in her hair, it’s okay, peanut, I understand. I’m on your team.
“I know you are, sweet girl,” Steve agrees thickly, pressing their foreheads together. “Thank you.”
“So am I,” Bucky whispers, his large hand overlapping Sarah’s to cup Steve’s face. “моя любовь,”
Steve closes his eyes, leaning his face into the hands of the two souls he loved most in this world, relishing the waves of love he could feel emanating from them both. "Я тебя люблю," Steve whispered, his heart racing, hoping he had gotten the pronunciation right.
Bucky blinks at him, shocked. "...Я тебя люблю," he replies, his eyes wide. "You've been practicing."
"Maybe," Steve gives a wobbly smile. "Did I do okay?"
"Very good, Papa!" Sarah agrees enthusiastically. "Smart Papa!"
“We’re one pretty strong team, huh?” Steve murmurs, pulling away once he had composed himself. Bucky hadn't stopped staring at him, wide-eyed. There was something like awe in Bucky's face that was making Steve blush.
“Yeah!” Sarah jumps up excitedly. “Strong team needs pancakes!”
Bucky snorts a laugh at that, composing himself again. He gets up out of bed in a fluid movement, and Steve takes the moment to inhale a steadying breath, composing himself as well. “Sundays are for pancakes,” Steve agrees. “Can’t argue with that logic, peanut.”
Bucky stretches, the muscles in his back rippling as he does. Steve takes the time to appreciate his ass in those tight black boxer briefs before he tugs on a pair of sweats, and swings Sarah up onto his shoulders. “Did the princess ask for pancakes?” Bucky says in a terrible British accent.
“Yes she did!” Sarah squeals, kicking her chubby legs against Bucky’s chest, earning a rumble of laughter from him.
“I. Am. A. Robot. Beeboop.” Bucky says in a robotic voice, doing some weird, jerky leg-movement that Steve thinks was supposed to impersonate a robot. “Please. Direct. Me. To. The. Kitchen. So. That. We. May. Commence. Pancake. Making.”
Sarah grabs a fistful of Bucky’s hair in either hand, and uses it as if it were a joystick, directing them through the bedroom door with some difficulty.
Bucky pretends to malfunction twice, and walks into the wall, making Sarah erupt into a fit of giggles. To be restarted, she had to boop his nose twice.
“System. Reboot. Successful!” Bucky applauds, and marches them into the kitchen, ducking so that Sarah’s head cleared the threshold and leaving Steve to watch them go, smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.
He lays back in bed for a moment, staring up at the ceiling.
How different his life was, five years ago!
A new apartment, with a story and empty rooms, falling into his lap. Bucky’s cool presence, his honey-sweet voice, that stubborn curl, falling into his eyes. The moon, the croon of Billie Holiday. The safety he felt, being held in Bucky’s arms for the first time. Those frantic kisses, when they didn’t know if they’d ever have more than those few, fleeting moments.
The heartbreak, the fear...seeing Bucky’s pale eyes not recognize him, fighting for their love and turning his back on Bucky, only for Bucky to fight back. Falling into each other, for the first time.
Their wedding day, the daisies, the crowd cheering as Bucky dipped him low and kissed him for all it was worth.
The honeymoon, the sunburnt skin, the touristy-photos Bucky talked him into taking...lying together under the stars in Paris, knowing there wasn’t a single place in the world Steve belonged more.
Fighting Hydra, as a team. Standing beside Bucky as his husband, his equal, to take down the very people that had broken Bucky’s heart.
Finding Sarah, holding her small hands, watching her say her first words, take her first steps. Another piece of his heart given away. Half to Bucky, half to her--they owned him.
He had, in the past five years, lived quite a life. He had succumbed to the great crescendo of love that he had somehow chanced upon.
Steve was married to a man he needed more than breath itself, who loved him with the same ferocious passion Steve felt. A man who was as incredible a husband as he was a father, to a little girl who owned Steve’s heart from the minute he laid eyes on her. They had love, and an apartment they adored, friends who were worth dying for, jobs that inspired them.
Never, in all Steve’s years before Bucky, did he think he would get this.
He had said once, when his mother died, that he lost faith in anything that had to do with the bigger picture. God, to him, became a man who sat back and watched the world burn. Who gave single mothers cancer.
But now, looking at the life that Steve was given, the love that filled him to the brim...he couldn’t say with complete certainty that there wasn’t something large, something beautiful, out there, granting happy endings.
Perhaps it didn’t matter what god there was, or was not. Perhaps this love, this religious devotion to his family, that Steve felt...perhaps that was his religion. To care about someone so much you’d dedicate your life to loving them.
It was, Steve thought absently, twisting his wedding band around his finger, a beautiful notion, if only that.
“Coming, Papa?” Sarah calls from the kitchen, her soprano voice carrying through the apartment.
Steve sits up, sliding on his bunny slippers, and Bucky’s shirt, pushing his glasses onto his face. He was unable to help the smile that formed as he shuffled into the kitchen, following the sound of Sarah’s voice.
Sarah is sitting on the counter with Bucky, pancake batter already smeared on one of her cheeks, Bucky mixing the batter animatedly beside her, his back to Steve. Steve pauses in the threshold for a moment, watching them.
“Papa is мой принц,” Bucky explains, “и я был зверем...until...”
Sarah blinks up at Bucky, tilting her head in consideration. “Until Papa lifted the curse?”
“That’s right, my умная девочка!” Bucky kisses her head, adding a generous amount of chocolate chips into the batter, and then holding out his hand and offering Sarah some. She accepts excitedly, popping them in her mouth.
“And then what, Daddy?”
“You like this story, hmm?” Steve interrupts, wrapping an arm around Bucky. Bucky presses a lingering kiss to the top of Steve’s head, tugging him in close.
“It’s a good story, kitten,” Bucky grins, and then nods at Sarah. “You want to hear the end?”
“She’s heard it a thousand times--” Steve begins fondly, but Bucky pinches his side, making him squeal and laugh. “I’m ticklish, you jerk!” he teases.
“Punk,” Bucky says sweetly, winking at him. “She wants to hear it, don’t you, Sarah?”
Sarah now has pancake batter and chocolate on her sweet little face, all before 9am. She claps her dimpled hands together excitedly. “Yes! The end, Daddy! Tell me!”
“Well,” Bucky says, in his story-time voice, his eyes wide and animated. “Once the curse was broken, Papa and Daddy could finally be together. After alllllllllllll that time, not being able to hug, they could finally hold hands, and dance together, at the royal ball.”
Sarah sighed happily. “The royal ball,” She repeated dreamily. “The end!”
“Not yet!” Bucky stops her, lightly tapping her nose. “Papa and Daddy had to overcome a big quest!” Bucky explains excitedly. “Daddy had been through a lot with the bad guys, and Papa wanted to help. So Papa and Daddy decided to fight the bad guys, together, with Auntie Nat, and Uncle Clint, and Uncle Sam, and Uncle Tony!”
“The Navengers!” Sarah cheers. “The Navengers!”
“The Avengers,” Bucky agrees with a soft laugh at her pronunciation. They were getting there, some of the bigger words she struggled with. “And the Avengers helped to stop the bad guys, once and for all. But...while on the very last mission to shut down the bad guys for good, Papa found somethin’, very very small, in a little bassinet…do you remember this part, умная девочка?”
Steve hides his smile in Bucky’s chest as Sarah frowns and then lights up. “The princess?”
“My smart girl!” Bucky approves, ruffling her curls. “Yes, Papa found the princess. She was sooo small, just like a little арахис!” Bucky grins. “And she was the most beautiful princess in all the land, and so clever. She knew, in her heart, that she was destined to be with Papa and Daddy, and that they would do anything and everything they could to keep the princess safe, no matter what.”
“No matter what,” Steve echoes quietly. Bucky’s arm squeezes him extra tight.
“She knew they loved her?” Sarah blinks her big eyes up at them.
“Yep,” Bucky admits, pinching her fat little foot as he pops the p in the word. “She knew, ‘cause when Papa picked her up for the first time, she stopped cryin’ right away.”
“She knew Papa was on her team,” Sarah nods softly. “The princess knew .”
“That’s right, she knew. And when Papa brought the princess to meet Daddy for the first time, the princess reached her little hand up,” Bucky grabs Sarah’s wrist to guide her hand to his face. “And touched his cheek, just like this,” Bucky was losing his story-voice, becoming softer and more serious, staring into his daughter’s eyes. “And Daddy and the clever princess instantly had a bond that no one could ever, ever, ever, break. Like magic.”
Sarah leaned in and rubber her tiny nose to Bucky's with a pleased smile. Bucky presses a soft kiss to her forehead.
“And then,” Steve interrupts. “Papa, Daddy, and the princess rode the magic dragon all the way back to the castle, where they promised to watch the princess grow up to be the kindest queen in all the land.”
Bucky pulls back, wrapping Steve up in his arms once again. Sarah stands on the counter, and Bucky instantly reaches an arm out to steady her. She toddles over to the edge, and then wraps her small arms around them two of them, trying to squeeze in the middle.
Steve picks her up easily, and fits her between both of their chests, Bucky’s arms wrapped around Steve, keeping Sarah and Steve both in the comfort of his warmth.
“The end?” Sarah asks, as Steve wipes the pancake batter from her round cheek.
“The end,” Bucky confirms, peppering kisses on Steve’s forehead, and then on Sarah’s.
“The end,” Steve echoes--though it was hardly the end.
Sarah would grow up, day by day, and learn new things, become stronger and kinder and impossibly more loved. She would bring home a boy at 15, and Bucky would scare him off, and probably show off his metal arm and knife-handling skills, threatening to cut him up if he ever hurt Sarah.
She would find whatever it was that she loved to do, and Steve and Bucky would make sure she does it, lots of it. She would fall in love, and have her heart broken….and they’d be there, to pick up the pieces.
She would have nightmares, and goals, and trips she’ll want to take.
She will never, ever second guess her worth, or how she deserves to be treated because Steve and Bucky would be the examples, all her life, of the kind of respect and love she was worthy of.
Steve and Bucky would grow older. More grey would pepper their hair, Steve’s chronic pain would get worse, and eventually, they’d be old and wrinkly.
But they’d do that together, too, knowing that they lived an extraordinary life, full of blazing sunsets, and full-bellied laughter...and more love than Steve ever thought a human heart could hold.
“And they all lived--” Bucky squeezes his arms around his two favourite people, extra tight. Steve smiles up at him, his eyes damp once again. When Bucky looks down at his husband, Steve sees that Bucky’s own eyes are red-rimmed. In five years together, they had already made so many amazing memories and had overcome so much. Steve felt a thrill of excitement about the future, as he considered how many more anniversaries they would be able to celebrate if luck allowed. Sarah rests her head on Steve’s chest, as Bucky rests his chin on Steve’s head, the three of them curled into each other with ease, like three puzzle pieces, always meant to find each other.
“-- Happily. Ever. After. ”
THE END