For geriatric

[disassembling]

Who: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
When: Post-TWS
What: Bucky is deaged to a ten-year-old. Avengers parental skills are not so good, so they make Steve handle it. He's practically dad material anyway.
Warnings: Cuteness.


[Steve had gone away; he had stayed behind. It wasn't an unusual arrangement. He had been at the Avengers Tower while Tony tried out new technology on the landing pad to test a new propulsion system on an Iron man suit. He had lurked in the shadows to observe, but he had moved at the sudden shot fired, slamming Tony out of the way and almost throwing the man clean off the rooftop. That too was not an unusual arrangement.

However, being reduced to a ten-year-old was very unusual, and no doubt the only reason he wasn't killed or reversed completely to his own death was the pseudo-super-soldier serum that ran through his veins. His clothing all fell off though, and it was much too blowy to be on a landing pad in the nude, so he skittered off towards the door and scratched his way back inside.

It was Clint who caught him racing the halls. Bruce apparently couldn't fix him outright and Tony just plain complained about having a child in the house. Given their equivalent emotional age, Tony was left in charge of him while Bruce resorted to going to get clothing and Clint left to get anything to bribe or entertain him with until a solution could be found.

Tony locked him in a bedroom. He broke the security panel in a tantrum.

Tony told him to stay put on the couch. He tried to sneak out a window. He ended up hiding in one of the cupboards of the kitchen instead when JARVIS told on him. Tony couldn't convince him out again. There wasn't anything to eat in the cupboard, but it was safe, small and dark, so he had no reason to come up even under threat at Tony would tear it apart. Bribing soon followed before Natasha, coming in hours later, made the call that Tony was a horrible parental figure.

She called Steve. He'd been around when Bucky had been ten-years-old before. It stood to reason that Captain America could deal with him now wedged in a kitchen cupboard when bribes, cooing and threats hadn't worked. They hadn't gotten clothing or lured him out with toys either. Clint suggested calling Thor instead; who didn't like a giant arrogant Asgardian?]

Comments

[geriatric]

'course, Buck.

[ The kid and clothing get settled down on Steve's stupidly large bed (one of the many reasons he doesn't stay here) and he releases him gently, nudging Bucky back a bit if he doesn't release instantly.

Thankfully, he hasn't questioned things like why Steve's big and he's little, or what happened, but he's not sure if that's really something to be thankful about or not. ]

C'mon, hop into these before you catch cold.

[disassembling]

[He stuck his legs out along the bed and looked around the room, finding that it was very big with everything that anyone could ever want in one. There was a television, a big bed, a view of outside when the blinds were up, a big table, some chairs and all sorts of things.

He actually withdrew his arms and legs to himself during his inspection of the room, but he looked over at the small clothing. He picked through, but he was a big enough boy to know how to dress himself. He pulled on the white t-shirt first and slipped into the underwear and trousers provided. He stared moodily at the folded pair of socks.]

I like the cold. It makes me sleepy, and I know I'm safe in it.

[geriatric]

[ He wonders how jarring it must be, remembering what they had as children - or more accurately, what they didn't have, only to compare it to what they have now. It's startling for him sometimes, looking at all of this and realizing how far things have come.

Steve waits for him to change and ruffles his hair as he waffles over the socks. ]

You do, huh?

[ Steve shifts, scooping Bucky up easy as you please, and plunks him on the bed, the socks left to the side if he doesn't want them. ]

At least one of us likes it, then.

[disassembling]

[He wiggled his toes and then wiggled his fingers, noting the difference between them but making no fuss that he was partial metal. His body swayed with the ruffling to his hair, and that earned a beaming smile from him.]

Yeah! Do I get to sleep in the freezer tonight?

[He let out a soft noise of pleasured surprise and wrapped his arms around Steve's neck. He pulled his head back so that he could peer at Steve and gave a look of consternation.]

I'll get to grow up, right? I wasn't allowed to grow before you came, yes?

[geriatric]

[ The smile on his face goes away as soon as what is being said registers. On some level he thought maybe it was comforting, to have some sort of process repeated, to be conditioned to want it; it made sense that the child version of Bucky would seek that.

Hearing it out loud is fucking terrifying, though. Steve spreads one big hand over the small curve of Bucky's back and tries not to sound gut-punched like how he feels. ]

No, Buck, you won't go back to the freezer. We can keep the room a little cooler. We're gonna find a way to fix you back to being grown up, I promise.

[disassembling]

[His own expression sobered when Steve was no longer smiling, thinking that he had said something wrong. He could supply his own answers to that, not that they were the right ones. Maybe Steve was upset because the man didn't like the cold as he did, so wouldn't like to be in a freezer.

He wanted to make it better though. He didn't want Steve to be sad for anything, especially about him.]

I'm a big boy, and I can sleep by myself if you don't like the cold. I sleep by myself all the time, though my bed is upright. [He tried to smile reassuringly to Steve.] Or you could be small like me, right?

[geriatric]

[ It's killing him, hearing him talk like this. It's this weird contrast between the Bucky he knew and the Bucky he knows, unsettling down to his bones. ]

Can't keep us safe if I'm small like you.

[ He can't imagine what'd happen if he got shifted to a kid again. Being stuck sick again makes him nearly recoil physically at the idea of it, nauseated. ]

We're gonna put you in a real bed, though. Not the - [ and he does his best to keep his voice from choking: ] Not in the freezer. Pillows and blankets, the whole nine.

[disassembling]

What do you have to keep us safe from when we're in your bedroom? Are more bad men coming to hurt you or me?

[He tilted his head and curled his arms around Steve's neck suddenly, clinging with his much smaller body to the blond. There was something in Steve's voice that he knew meant the man was upset still.]

How come you're so nice to me when I make you sad? I want to be good and make you happy, Steve. What am I doing wrong?

[geriatric]

[ Whoah, hey. It comes out softer than he means, scooping him up and cradling him gently. Was Bucky this touchy when he was a kid? Steve doesn't remember, mostly because when they were kids he was the one who needed all the attention. ]

People should always be nice to you. And you do make me happy, pal.

[ He pauses a moment, weighing his words as he tries to figure out how to say this. ]

It's just - the bad guys who did things are-- they're the ones who made me sad. Not you, alright?

[disassembling]

[He wasn't entirely the child of the 40s, tainted with the Winter Soldier but mixing with something childish. He only wanted to make Steve happy all the same, especially now that he had been shown such kindness.]

What are you going to do to the bad guys then? I don't want you to be sad.

[geriatric]

I'll figure that out when I find them.

[ When Bucky is old enough to help him, to figure out what he wants to do. He's not leaving that decision up to a child, no matter how much like Bucky he is. ]

I'm- I won't be sad forever. Trust me, alright?

[disassembling]

[He nodded his head to accept Steve's words and curled his mismatched arms tighter around the man's neck. He rested his cheek on his metal arm and closed his eyes.]

I trust you. You're my everything.