#I don’t suppose there’s a ship name for the Duke and frost?

[luna-the-cretar]

Anyone remember the Frostbek series I was working on? Before it kinda stopped? Yeah, I’m still writing it, just very slowly lol. (Actually, at this rate, the next fic might not get posted until ouaw itself picks back up)

Anyway, out of all the fics I have planned for this series (and there’s a lot of ‘em), there’s only one I’m really excited for and know exactly how I’m gonna have it play out. Actually it’s technically 3 separate fics, but they’re connected with this plotline.

CW: Abusive relationship (it’s regarding The Other, so…yeah)

So Frost wakes up in the middle of the night, and all he can see is the glow from Torbek’s canisters, and his eyes. This is not abnormal—I imagine Torbek is more of a night owl like Frost is, but has to be up during the day bc responsibilities and traveling—what IS abnormal, however, is the bright pink hue to his boyfriend’s eyes. “Torbek” sees that Frosty is awake, and immediately crawls closer, smiling.

They have a conversation, that essentially boils down to The Other telling Frost that He’ll be taking over for a while, but to not be alarmed because He has grown rather fond of Frost, partially because of how much Torbek cares for the Tabaxi. The Other does threaten Frost, however, and tells him that if he’d like to keep his head on his shoulders, he wouldn’t tell the others about what’s going on. And that he knows if/when Frost is communicating with someone mentally (idk if The Other actually has mind powers, but shhh). So, Frost keeps quiet about this. For 2 months.

The Other isn’t physically harming Frost, other than a small cut on his cheek from the initial conversation. But the others (Gricko especially) notice how odd both Frost and “Torbek” are acting. Frost seems uncomfortable, if not outright scared, of “Torbek”, and is significantly quieter than he normally is. He won’t even talk to them mentally. And “Torbek” won’t leave Frost’s side. At all. Whereas beforehand, while Torbek was much more comfortable with Frost around, they both also had their own responsibilities on the reformed Carnival, and would spend much of the day apart.

Now, though? Wherever Frost is, “Torbek” is. The bugbear won’t even leave the poor man alone to use the bathroom. And he’s also INCREDIBLY jealous, glaring daggers at whoever decides to talk to Frost for any reason (if looks could kill, Gricko would be dead 10 times over)

Eventually, Gricko realizes that this isn’t Torbek, and must be The Other, and manages to pry Frost away from Him for a short while. He tells Frost there must be some way to bring Torbek back, and that he should try and use his psychic abilities, and see if that works. Frost agrees, and that night, he does so.

This leads to Frost learning just how deep Torbek’s affections go, and Torbek makes a deal with his Other, who agrees and lets Torbek take control again. Happily ever after. For the time being, anyway. ;)

[tcrmommabear]

Temporal Shift (TCR B-Day Bash)

Hey demons, it’s me, ya girl, coming back from the depths of depression and anxiety to throw this at you for TCR Week. In all seriousness, I’m finally in a really good place. It’s not all sunshine and roses, but for once in my life, I can actually think. I can actually love and enjoy things again.

But with that sappiness over with, I’m back, and better than ever, with some angst that’ll really kill ya ;)

For those familiar with Wolf 359, yes, I am giving you the AU you never knew you wanted, let alone was possible. To those not familiar with W359, it’s a space audio-log style podcast that @catsafarithewriter and I have been in love with lately. It’s funny, it’s dark, it’s exciting, it’s brilliant. If you don’t mind the spoilers, take a read down below! If you’re interested in it now, maybe skip this prompt until you get up to episode 47, past Special Episode “Change of Mind”.

For those who don’t care, enjoy down below :)

(Bonus: Here’s the song that Persephone listens to)

The station port creaked open, swinging in to reveal the deep expanse laid out before them. She stepped forward, trusting the heavy boots to hold her steady. There was no hesitation, the feeling of weight settled at her feet, the smell of stale, cycled air familiar.

Comforting.

She glanced back at her companion, watching as they took fearful steps forward, hesitating to lift and step. She laughed, stepping back to offer a hand. The other accepted, grip tight even between the stiff rubber gloves of their suits.

“So-o-o-o-o,” she began, breathless, never letting go of her hand, “how often do you do this?”

She shrugged, glancing back and meeting sapphire eyes. She flushed, nervous laughter tumbling out. “Oh, three or four times a week. Mostly when everyone is asleep.”

“I see,” the other hummed, grip tightening on her hand as they stopped walking.

“Louise,” she watched her jump, a smirk spreading, “is this your first space walk?”

She didn’t need much beyond the immediate silence, the way the taller tried to duck her head and hide.

“You were supposed to do ten hours our first week here!”

“I know, I know-!”

“Shock, scandal, utter betrayal!”

“Please don’t tell-!”

She waved a hand, cutting off Louise’s plea, “Your secret’s safe with me. So, let’s go.”

Louise paused, cocking her head. “Go where? What?”

She grinned, raising her hand to point at the stars. “Let’s go free float for a bit, c’mon.”

She smiled sheepishly, taking a step away from her. “You go ahead, Persephone. I’ll get there just… Not tonight.”

They shared a smile, though looked away when they felt each had stared a moment too long.

“Suit yourself,” she said, deactivating her boots. The sensation took her slowly, creeping upwards. She felt a tug, and realized her and Louise had never let go of each other. She twisted to face her, floating just barely above her. Louise reach her other hand out, which she easily took, their helmets gently knocking against each other.

Even as she was floating in space, she could have never felt so light, so free. She gave a giddy giggle, memorizing the pattern of her freckles, the way one eye looked greener than the other.

“Go on,” Louise breathed, “float with the rest of the stars.”

She could only nod, letting go, turning to face the vast expanse. Wolf 359 glowing, bright, shimmering. There was a crackle of music, her cassette playing through the comms. The only song that felt like home.

“So-o-o… What did we learn, Persephone?” he purred, creeping into the corner of her vision. She stood on her ship, never breaking eyes with the twirling ball of fire.

“You just… Had to ruin the moment, didn’t you, Duke?”

His suit was too finely pressed, the whites sharp enough to kill. He was difficult to look at, his voice really the only clue to who he was. He hummed, “Sorry. Just the way it goes, sometimes.”

She nodded, fists clenching. Let her chest expand, meeting eyes with her star. Fiery, bright, blinding.

“You know you can’t stay here…”

��I know,” she answered, firmly, “I just… Needed to remind myself of something. To see… To see her again.”

“But, humor me here, why this moment? Why here?”

“Maybe because… She was the real star. Because I knew, for sure, here. How much I would do for her.”

He was silent this time, watching as her star, out of focus and blurred, suddenly came into focus, stark and clear. Warping into a deep blue.

“It’s almost time,” he sing-songed, voice grating, tearing her further away from her moment, her precious memory.

“Was any of this real,” she suddenly asked, “Was this… Really mine? Or was this the story I was told so I’d think I-?”

“A question with an answer only you can determine for yourself, Persephone. Ready?”

She sighed, glaring, blurred as her world melted.

“I’m going to mess you-!”

“Clear!” giggled out.

Electricity surged through her, igniting her senses. The entirety of her body washed over her with the shock, washing away as quickly as it came. Another bolt, twice as strong, froze her in a snapshot, memories siphoning into her brain.

Moments of the life she lived.

Young, lips tight, fire in her eyes.

Nose bleeding, fist cocked, army written all over her.

Heart broken, family, friends, all lost, station echoing behind her.

Grim determination, false confidence, curling fear overtaken with frost from cryo.

Ice bathed in flames.

Electricity surged, surged, surged, overloaded her until she was hacking half her lungs out. Her world came to her in puzzle pieces and tsunami waves, understanding far from her mind. Voices called, pressure on her skull that she didn’t know how to process.

“I’d say we’re about… Half way there. After that kids? Training wheels come off.”

***

He locked Machida and Muta separately, hands still shaking as he entered the locking code. He took the long way through the station, working through the damaged and hollow halls until he came back to the medbay.

Persephone slept on the bed, chest rising and falling like it had never stopped. Like a bullet didn’t paint the back wall of the comms room with her grey matter. The shaking returned with fervor, but he sucked in an unsteady breath, digging his nails into the flesh of his palm. Let his chest expand.

No time for fear. No time for fear, for revulsion, for outright grief. He packed the feelings away, stored them in a little box out of sight, and set about to look for Haru. He scoured what remained of the ship, bunks, bathrooms, the mess, only to find her in the first place he thought she’d be, and the last place he wanted to find her.

Even with one less full body bag on the floor, the feeling of death weighed the room down heavy, obscuring the beauty of the stars with the cruelty on man. She didn’t look at him, staring out the observation deck window to the blue star haunting their station. He took a seat beside her, studying her face, following the tear tracks, examining the flecks of blood Persephone coughed onto her.

“Haru…” he began, but what do you say? What do you tell someone, when they’ve witnessed the craziest, most miraculous, most insane thing possible and called it their friend? Nothing. You say their name and sit like a fool with nothing to say. God, they needed to send out a better manual.

She turned to look at him, took in his own mess of an appearance, of a life, and turned away. Tried, measured, and found wanting.

“You can say it, you know…” she mumbled, never breaking eyes with the star.

“Say what?”

She laughed, rubbing her eyes as more tears began to build. “That… That all of this is my fault.”

He froze, heart cracking between his ribs. She watched as she started to cry anew, her hands pressing against her face. He packed everything away, his own sadness, his own guilt, his fiery rage at the world that’d make her feel like that. She was the only one that mattered.

“Haru, none of this is your fault!”

“I was the one who found the signal! The one who didn’t want to kill Toto, the one who got stranded and needed a dumb rescue, bringing the others here! It’s my fault she got shot!”

She wouldn’t- couldn’t- stop shaking, warmth and hope draining out her eyes and down to the floor.

“Stop that, stop that right now,” Yuki commanded, her sweet voice furious, echoing in the makeshift morgue. Haru jumped, looking around for the camera Yuki used to see.

“Yuki?” she called out.

“I won’t have my best friend thinking she’s the sole cause of this hell. It was all of us. It was none of us. It was a chain reaction of horrible decisions and the cruelty of monsters disguised as people. None of us could have prevented, or even predicted this. Not even me. It’s wasn’t you, Haru.”

“She’s right,” he jumped in, taking her hands between his, pulling her attention, “None of this is your fault. Persephone… Persephone made her choice. Machida, Muta, Hiromi… Toto… They all made their choices. You are not responsible for the actions of monsters.”

Haru hiccuped, gasping for breath to find an argument between their truths, but he wouldn’t have it.

“Haru, you are the bravest, the smartest, the kindest person I had the joy to meet. A regular, golden-orange sun will shine on us, one day.”

She nodded, and kept nodding, until he pulled her tight against his chest. He reached a hand, pressed it against the wall, hoping to do something to include Yuki in their human matters.

“I’ll get us all home safe,” he promised, “I’ll make Goddard pay for everything.”

She shook her head, pulling away. He saw the fury burning beneath her skin, jaw set in determination, “No, not before I burn them all to the ground.”

He nodded, rubbing his other hand down her back. She leaned back against him, warm and hurt and vulnerable.

“I’ll take care of you, Haru. And you, Yuki,” he said, confused when Haru pulled away again. Her hands found his cheeks, holding him in place, forcing him to look at her.

“Commander Baron, you can’t carry all of this yourself,” Yuki said, worry laced in her words. He sputtered, tried to reel back, prove he was fine, assure them that he could, but Haru stopped him.

“Baron,” she pleaded, soft, gentle, “let yourself grieve. Let it all process- Besides, I know about you and Toto.”

He jerked, glaring at Yuki’s camera accusingly. Her voice came out nervous, but not regretful.

“My duty is to protect my crew. And, according to my code that I had to bend for a loophole, that means spilling secrets to my best friend to keep her heart from breaking.”

“I pressed her for it, Baron,” she told him, tilting her head with a rueful smile. He didn’t like that look, that train of thought that’d keep him from… A wonderful chance, one day.

“Once, in the beginning, Haru. There was something, a wonderful and… Strange something. But that ended a long time ago. Died, when he hurt you and Yuki.”

She gave a shuddering sigh, shoulders sagging. She pulled him down, arms tight around her neck, his face buried in the crook of her neck.

“It’s okay, Baron,” she soothed, nervous laughter freezing in his throat. His breath hitched, lost in brown hair, the smell of metal and… That damn seaweed shampoo Toto made. The tears fell, Haru whispering kindly in his ear.

“Just let go.”

[green-eyeddragonfanfiction]

Time: Chapter 9

Summary: Soulmate!AU/Reincarnation!AU. Female!Reader lives in a world where alien invasions and hordes of death robots occur and past lives and soulmates are very real. Like most people, she gets brief glimpses of her past. although a person’s past lives and their current life may have little to nothing in common, soul mates tend to transfer between lives, the core of a person staying the same throughout the eons. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader, Steve Rogers x Female!Reader Warnings: Language, angst, unsafe vehicular etiquette (wear your fucking seat belt) Word Count: ~5,444 (Jeez, really? It didn’t feel that long while I was editing it) A/N: I took forever to get chapter 8 out so I’m trying to make it up to you by getting this one out asap. Enjoy, guys. It’s Steve shipping time! And, uh, sorry for this one. It’s a doozy.

Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

You pushed all of your thoughts about Bucky and Steve to the back of your mind. This would take all of your attention. Airports were tricky when you spoke the language everything was in, but this would be an adventure.

“New York, here I come.”

Dean, bless his heart, had come to pick you up from the airport. He chatted happily the entire way back to the cafe, voice filling the space of his messy SUV. Under his care the cafe was thriving. It was doing just as well if not better than it had while you ran it. He sobered a bit when he talked about the recent events surrounding the Sokovia Accords. Your attention snapped to him when he said there had been reports that the Avengers were duking it out in a southern German airport.

“Wait, didn’t you fly in from there?” he asked, turning to look at you while you were stopped at a red light.

“I flew in from the larger one in west Berlin,” you said.

“Oh, damn. It would have been awesome to see the Avengers fight firsthand. I hope they capture that Barnes dude. I don’t know why Cap is helping him. He’s a monster,” Dean said flippantly.

You grit your teeth. You knew Dean didn’t know any better. “Maybe he has a good reason. I trust Captain America,” you said stiffly.

He gave you a confused look out of the corner of his eye. Although he didn’t know exactly why, he knew you well enough to know he’d pissed you off somehow.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he said amicably. You relaxed a little bit. Dean was a good kid. He didn’t deserve your anger.

“Any more news about the Avengers? Recent news, that is,” you asked.

“Nothing solid, but they’re speculating that The Winter Soldier and Captain America escaped,” he informed you. “And it seems like the rest of the people that helped them are going to be locked up somewhere top secret.”

“People helped them?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah, there was some leaked footage. Let’s see. There was Wanda Maximoff, the magic-y chick that blew up a building a week ago... the Falcon - no shocker there, him and Cap are best friends-... and some dude in a red suit that could get huge and could also disappear. No one knows who he is-,” he said, ticking them off on his hand as he spoke. “Oh, and the archer dude. Hawkeye,” he said, holding up a fourth finger.

“Shit.” Steve is gonna beat himself up over that one, guaranteed.

“Yeah, it’s crazy. They must trust Cap a lot to defend that Barnes dude like that,” he said, shaking his head slightly.

He pulled into the garage that was a block away from the cafe (and your apartment, which was above it). It was easier to park here than look for it on the street. Dean was one of the few people crazy enough to drive in New York. He usually took the subway, but drove occasionally, and you were grateful that he did.

“You’re 22 now, right?” you asked as you exited the car. You went to pull your duffel off of the back seat, but Dean had reached it before you, hauling it out and slinging it over his shoulder. “Thanks,” you said, and he nodded at you, smiling.

“Yeah, why?” he asked.

“Pizza and a six pack enough of a payback for picking me up?” you asked, grinning.

He chuckled as you walked towards the garage exit. The lights flickered, casting odd shadows on the grimy cement walls around you. You hated this garage.You swore you’d get stabbed in here one day. You didn’t want today to be that day, so you walked a little more quickly to the elevators.

“Yeah, that’s more than enough,” he said as he pressed the button to call the elevator. “Everyone’s really excited to see you, you know,” he said, smiling at you as you both stepped into the elevator.

“I’m excited to see them, too. I’m actually a little surprised everyone’s still there. I would have thought they’d be upset I made a nineteen year old look after the shop,” you said, grimacing slightly.

“A couple of them were pretty upset at first, but they saw how long you’d taken to train me. After I took over and they realized I could run the cafe they backed off. Whenever there’s a hiccup some are still quick to blame me, but the rest are pretty level-headed about it,” he said as the elevator climbed floors. It reached street level and you both walked out.

“Well, that’s good. I chose you for a reason,” you said, patting him on the shoulder. He smiled and blushed a little at that. You paused. “Hey, listen. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying. Don’t think you’re done watching over my cafe yet,” you said, a hint of teasing entering your voice as you said the last part.

“Can you really call it your cafe if you haven’t been running it for the last two years?” he asked, equally teasing.

“Whose name is on all of the paperwork?” you asked crossing your arms as you leveled a steely glare at him.

“Yours, but only because they wouldn’t let you sign everything over to a twenty year old,” he said, crossing his arms right back at you.

“Shit, I’d hoped you’d forgotten about that,” you said, uncrossing your arms and slumping slightly.

He laughed at your expense for a minute then sobered. “What’s this about leaving again?” he asked, glancing at you as you turned the corner onto the street the cafe was on.

“Well I’m going to be visiting Brooklyn for the next few days. I don’t entirely know what’ll happen,” you said, wishing you could explain more.

“Uh huh... and can you explain why you’re going to be in Brooklyn?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Uh... I’m hoping to see an old friend there?” you said, hoping he wouldn’t question you further.

He gave you a long stare, silently judging you. “Whatever you say, (Y/N),” he said finally.

Finally, you arrived in front of your store. “Oh, beautiful! How I’ve missed you!” you exclaimed, wrenching open the door to the cafe.

You were immediately bombarded by aproned baristas. You tried to shush them as a few customers shot you dirty looks over their laptop; You’d obviously interrupted some very important screenplay or fanfiction writing.

The girls dragged you to the back of the shop, asking you all kinds of questions about Romania and your flight back, which you happily answered.

“Tadah!” Taliyah said, revealing a beautifully decorated cake with “welcome back” written on it in light blue frosting.

“It’s yellow cake with chocolate frosting, your favorite!” Katelyn helpfully chimed in.

“Not even five minutes back and you’re already trying to get me fat again?” you quipped, grinning at both at them.

“Well if you don’t eat it, I will,” Dean said from behind you.

“Shit, Dean. I totally forgot. Here, lemme take that,” you said, reaching out for your bag. He deftly dodged you and moved to the stairs at the back of the room that led up to the apartment immediately above it. The door to the apartments floors three and above were next to the shop’s entrance, but you were lucky enough to have an entrance to yours linked directly to your shop.

“It’s not a problem. You catch up with Kate and Tali,” he said, throwing you a smile as he went to go throw your stuff upstairs.

“Tell us all about Romania,” Kate said, grabbing a knife from the kitchen area to cut the cake with.

Over the next twenty minutes you talked about your time with your aunt and uncle. Dean joined you back downstairs a few minutes into your stories. You talked about how you worked a merchant stall in an idyllic, quaint old part of Bucharest and how you helped your aunt start up a business. Tali and Kate took turns popping in and out of the cafe to take care of customers and all four of you munched happily on welcome back cake.

“Ok, but you had to have found someone you liked there,” Tali said, grinning eagerly from her spot on a bar stool that she’d parked next to the door to the cafe’s main room.

“Yeah, come on. There had to be a cute guy... or girl?” she asked waggling her eyebrows at you suggestively.

You laughed at the ridiculous face she was making. You wanted to tell them about Bucky so badly, but you couldn’t. Maybe you could tell them about Grant, though? No, it was too risky. “No, no. There was no one, male or otherwise,” you said, smirking at their crestfallen expressions. “I have to get going. It’s been at least two days since I showered,” you said. You sniffed yourself experimentally and wrinkled your nose. Yeah, you were definitely rank. You let out an exaggerated gag for their benefit which made them laugh. They gave you another hug (brave souls) and told you once again how much they missed you.

You trudged up the stairs to your apartment, old stairs creaking under your weight, and locked it behind you. You took a moment to appreciate Dean’s handiwork. It was like you hadn’t even been gone for two years. Although things were still in boxes, it seemed like most of your furniture had been uncovered, the floors swept, and surfaces of things dusted. The bathroom was in a similar state. He’d even located a towel for you. You found your duffel in your bedroom, sitting on top of your bed. You realized he’d found your sheets, too. You supposed you weren’t that surprised. He’d helped you with a lot of you packing. He’d meticulously labeled the boxes of everything that was staying in the apartment. You pulled out your shampoo and body wash. They were some of the few things you’d grabbed from your aunt and uncle’s house before you’d left. You also grabbed a change of clothes, not really looking too closely at what you’d grabbed, and headed to the bathroom. It seemed like Dean had been conscientious enough to run the water for a little while. There was still some water in the base of the tub and when you started the water it ran clean immediately and stayed clean, no rust or dirt in sight. You stripped while you waited for it to heat up.

When it was hot enough you stepped in, closing the curtain behind you. You washed your hair and body quickly, but stood in the spray for a long time. At some point you’d sat down in the bottom of the tub, but you didn’t remember doing that. The panic you’d been obstinately denying and ignoring was clawing its way through your chest.

Steve and Bucky were missing. They’d gone off to who knows where, their friends most likely taken to a prison in Fuckthatville, Godknowswhere. Without Natasha, Fury, or Sharon to tell you what was happening, you were in the dark. You didn’t know if they were alive. For the first time in a long time you stared at the letters on your wrist. Your soul brand usually made your heart ache, but this time it was different. It made you feel even more panic and helpless. Your boys- Rosie’s boys- were out there risking their lives. They always would, you knew. It was in their nature. But not knowing was worse than anything else. Rosie had never lost them, you knew; They’d lost her. Rosie didn’t remember much from the last years of her life. From the few things you could find, it seemed like Rosie had died at the age of sixteen, long before Steve had become the Captain at 23 and Bucky supposedly died at the age of 27. You didn’t know the pain of losing them, but you knew it would break you. Steve had Bucky when you’d died, but the closest you had was Dean, but he was no Bucky to your Steve.

You stood suddenly, nearly losing your balance as blood rushed back to its proper place. You wouldn’t let yourself think like that. They were fine. You’d see Steve and Bucky in a day or two at Rosie’s old Brooklyn home. You strained your mind to try and think of the address. Things not directly relating to Steve were pretty hard to remember. Even Bucky was fuzzy in most of Rosie’s memories. The only reason you remembered as much as you did was because he was always with Steve. The water had gone pretty chilly while you’d been having a silent breakdown in the shower. You shivered as you turned off the water and grabbed your towel.

“They’re okay. They’re gonna be okay,” you said, repeating the mantra as you dried off and got dressed. Your internal clock was telling you it was time to sleep and you agreed. They almost definitely wouldn’t be in the U.S. for at least eight hours. Maybe less if they used some sort of high-tech fancy jet, but you were willing to bet work as dangerous as theirs would hold them up for a bit.

You walked back into your room, freshly showered, and threw the duffel off of your bed and onto the floor. You didn’t even bother to get under the blankets, flopping face-down onto the bed.

“Sleep now. Nothing you can do to help. Brooklyn tomorrow,” you told yourself. Your mind and body were unwilling to rest, but eventually the lack of good sleep and stress-induced fatigue pulled you into dreamland.

You spent the next two days going to Rosie’s old place. Turned out the actual house had been torn down a long time ago and an apartment complex had been erected in its place. But it was still the correct address. Rosie recognized some of the old buildings in the area through your eyes. You’d been through the neighborhood a couple of times before but avoided it on principle. Rosie’s memories were shockingly vivid- almost hallucination-worthy. It was annoying on a good day, jarring and upsetting on a bad day.

You staked out the house at a cafe across the street. Their coffee was crap compared to your place’s, but you drank it just to give yourself something to do. You’d watch people on the street pass by. Certain sounds or feelings would trigger a Rosie memory, and you’d be teleported back eighty years. A breeze played with your hair and tickled your nose and suddenly the road was filled with people and beautiful, curvy classic cars. Nearly all of the men wore suits and hats. The women wore long, modest dresses and their hair was nearly universally short or pinned up on their head. You felt like you were at least two feet shorter and glanced next to you; Steve was laughing brightly at something someone had said. He was still weak and sickly in your memories. He was so different, yet still the same Steve you knew today.

Suddenly the world warped back to the present and you sighed. You hoped more than ever before that they’d be back soon. You were getting tired of Rosie’s visions. Every day you waited made your anxiety heighten. Every day they didn’t return made the long list of their possible fates in your head get even longer, but only one became more and more likely.

Day three brought some relief. You grabbed the paper from the stand at the front of the cafe and nearly dropped your coffee as you read the title.

“Bucky Barnes Innocent of Sokovia Accords Bombing” it read. Your heart thudded in your chest as you took your usual seat that gave you full view of the complex across the street.

You read the article, eyes quickly consuming every word. Due to evidence uncovered by parties unknown, it was made clear to the UN he wasn’t the one responsible for the bombing. Apparently, however, he was still wanted for the murders he committed as the Winter Soldier. You grimaced. You supposed that was to be expected, at least. But at least his name was clear of a crime he didn’t commit. Not that you believed it had truly been Bucky who had committed all of those murders. No, he’d been a brainwashed weapon of Hydra- a gun pointed at whoever they wanted. He was different, now. You’d seen that every day you spent with him. It was in his eyes; his laugh. He was a good man. A truly good one. You sighed as you closed your paper, then glanced up at the complex and nearly choked on your coffee.

Across the road was Steve and the woman you recognized as Wanda Maximoff. He gave you a small wave and then bent over to whisper something in Wanda’s ear as he pointed to you. She gave you a warm smile and waved at you, too. You gave them a tiny wave, your eyes wide with shock. Steve raised an eyebrow at you and motioned for you to come over.

You stood a little too suddenly and the cafe patrons around you gave you funny looks, but you didn’t notice. Steve snorted and covered his mouth with his hand. You could tell he was grinning broadly beneath his hand. Wanda’s smile widened, eyes sparkling with humor.

You crossed the road, checking to make sure it was clear before you stepped off the curb and tried to act as naturally as you could. If Wanda and Steve’s reactions were anything to go by, you were failing spectacularly.

“Stevie!” you said as you hopped up onto the curb and threw yourself into his arms.

“Hey sweetheart,” he said, slightly surprised, but wrapped his arms around you anyway.

He smelled just like Rosie remembered. It was comforting. You let him rub your back gently for a minute, completely content, with no intention of letting go, when Wanda cleared her throat next to you.

You jumped back and away from Steve, startled. Had that been you or Rosie? You couldn’t tell.

“Uh, hi. Wanda, right?” you asked, extending your hand.

She smiled at you and shook your hand. “Yes. It’s (Y/N), correct? I’ve only heard it about fifty times the last few days,” she said, throwing Steve a tight smile.

“Ah, uh... I’m sorry?” you said, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly.

“Oh, don’t be. It was nice seeing that side of Steve and Bucky,” she said, smiling for a second before her face fell.

“Oh, right. Where is Bucky?” you said, looking around for him as though he’d pop out from behind a car or something.

Steve wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“Stevie...?” you said, voice questioning. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, and he closed his mouth again. He tried again, but the same thing happened.

“Steve, don’t tell me he’s-” you began, barely daring to breathe.

“He’s not dead,” he said, finally looking at you. You breathed out a huge sigh of relief, but quickly focused on him again.

“Why isn’t he here, then? Was he worried he’d draw too much attention to himself?” you asked, confused.

“That’s, ah. Well... you see...” Steve rambled, unable to find the words he needed.

“We should get out of here. I don’t know how long I can continue making people ignore out presence. I may slip up, and we definitely don’t want that to happen this close to Stark,” Wanda said. It was only then you noticed her eyes were glowing red and small tendrils of red energy were seeping out at her feet and fingertips.

“Right, let’s go, then,” Steve said, more confident now that he had something concrete to do.

He grabbed your hand, engulfing it in his own. Without either of you thinking about it, your fingers laced together. It felt so natural you didn’t even think to question it.

“Where are we going?” you asked Steve as the three of you walked briskly down the sidewalk.

“Well, we’re trying to find a safe place to hide right now. I forced them to let me stop here so I could see you,” he explained. “The more immediate answer to your question is: the car,” he said, smiling down at you.

“You’re on the run? Still?” you asked, confused. “Even after the truth about Bucky came out?” he cringed minutely at the mention of his best friend’s name and your eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, we violated the Sokovia Accords. We’re still wanted criminals. Bucky especially,” Steve explained.

“I don’t know, I think I’m pretty high on their shit list, too,” Wanda said from a few feet in front of you. You’d been so caught up in Steve’s presence you’d almost forgotten about her.

“We’ve been over this, Wanda, you’re not-” Steve said, starting what sounded like a very old and very tried conversation.

“I know, I know. I learned from my mistakes and did the best I could in a tough situation. Don’t need to repeat it all again,” she said, smiling over her shoulder at Steve. “Just stating facts,” she said, turning back to face the road in front of her.

You arrived at the car a moment later, piling into the backseat with Steve, letting Wanda take the wheel.

“Can you even drive, Wanda?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Well Nat taught me a little bit, but if there’s a problem I’ll just stop us from hitting anything with my powers,” she said, smiling at you in the rear-view mirror.

You and Steve exchanged worried glances, but she was already pulling out of the parking spot. You gave her your address and decided to leave that particular problem for later, hoping her powers and Steve’s reaction time would save you from any horrible would-be accidents. You turned to face Steve and watched how he froze, Rosie reading his tense posture easily.

“Stevie?” you asked, tone serious. Usually calling him by that got him to relax a bit, but he didn’t budge. It made you worry all over again.

“Yes?” he asked, tone trying and failing to be casual.

“Bucky. Explain, now,” you demanded, crossing your arms.

“Which part?” he asked, grimacing.

“The most recent development that has you acting more squirrelly than defying the collective authority of nearly every nation in the world did,” you said, glaring at him.

“Ah, yeah, that part,” he said nervously, clasping his hands together.

You stared at him, unblinking. He sighed deeply and took your hand, which you stiffly allowed him.

“I suppose there’s no easy way to say it. Buck’s gone back into cryo,” he said. It looked like it was almost painful for him to keep eye contact with you while he said it.

“Cryo?” you asked, not understanding.

“Cryostasis. He’s frozen. He’s been in and out of it over the last seventy years he spent as The Soldier. I think the last two or so years were the longest he’d been out in a long time,” Steve explained as he watched you carefully.

“He... went back to being frozen? Of his own free will?” You said slowly, trying to process the new information.

Steve nodded slowly, not liking the way this seemed to be going. “There’s- There’s something else,” he said tentatively.

“What?” you asked, looking up at him, eyes hopeful. He braced himself for the inevitable tide of hurt his next words would cause.

Steve knew about what had happened between you and Bucky. His best friend had told him everything while sobbing. He hadn’t known for sure it was their Rosie, at first, but when he’d figured it out he hadn’t been able to end the relationship.

Steve didn’t blame him or hate him like Bucky was afraid he would, because Steve knew. He’d known for nearly eighty years.

Eighty years ago, back when Steve had been staying over at Bucky’s, he’d woken up to Bucky’s arm hitting him in his sleep. He reached to move it off of him and froze when he saw the letters. Bucky’d told him a few years ago what his soul brand said after Steve had shown him his own, excited after he’d found Rosie and her brand had his own initials. The initials Steve saw on Bucky’s left wrist now were the exact same on his own wrist. He held up his own wrist in comparison. R.A.F. glared up at him, the text on each the exact same. He knew soul brands tended to change fonts for different people. Some appeared scratchy and bold while others were thin and curly. The text on Steve’s wrist exactly matched that on Bucky’s wrist. It was an elegant, flowy, bold script.

He’d been unable to sleep the rest of the night, but vowed to never say anything about it to Bucky unless Bucky did first. He always kept a close eye on his best friend, always worrying about him. Steve wondered why Bucky didn’t want to shove them out of his life, but when Steve thought about how lonely he’d be without Bucky and Rosie, he’d understood.

He’d told Bucky as much when Bucky confessed everything to him. His friend had pulled him into a tight one-armed hug, his tears soaking Steve’s shirt as he murmured thank you’s.

“Take care of her, Stevie,” he’d said on the day he went into cryo in Wakanda. “And... tell her one more thing.”

“He... doesn’t want to be with you anymore,” Steve said, nearly unable to finish as your face fell and became almost emotionless by the time he’d finished. “... (Y/N)?” he asked, squeezing you hand tightly.

The comforting gesture was enough to break the spell of disbelief and you felt a sob tear through your body.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steve sighed, face twisting in sorrow at the anguish you were clearly feeling. He pulled you from your seat and into his lap. He cradled your head to his chest and ran his fingers through your hair, murmuring comforting words into your hair as he placed gentle kisses on top of your head.

He wanted to explain further. Seeing you like this was killing him, but Bucky had been clear.

“Just that. Nothing else. No paraphrasing. It’s better this way. Promise me, Stevie,” he’d said.

And Steve had promised, seeing the desperation in his friend’s eyes.

It was a promise he was struggling to keep as you wailed into his chest.

“You’re lying,” you choked out between sobs.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), but I’m not. I’d never lie to you. Not about this,” he whispered as he stroked your hair with one hand and your back with the other.

His touch was the only thing keeping you from falling apart at the seams.

“Why, Stevie?” you gasped, clutching his shirt tightly. You needed answers. Explanations.

“I don’t know, darling. He didn’t tell me and he wouldn’t explain,” he said, tone apologetic.

You looked up at him, heartbroken, and he cupped your face with his hand, wiping away your tears with his thumb. He gently kissed away the tears on your opposite cheek, just like Rosie used to do when they were kids. The gesture nearly brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. It was unfair that you were comforted by these memories when they weren’t even yours.

“We’re here,” Wanda said quietly from the front seat. You looked out the window. Sure enough, you were parked a half a block away from your cafe and apartment.

“C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you somewhere safe and quiet,” he said as he opened the door and lifted you up one-handed, hand under your butt. You wrapped your arms around his neck to help steady yourself. He closed the car door before he placed his other arm firmly around your back.

“Through the back of the cafe,” you croaked. You placed your head on Steve’s shoulder and tried to stop crying. You didn’t want your staff to see you like this.

Oh god, your staff. They’d have a conniption if they saw you being carried in by Captain America, followed by the Scarlet Witch.

Wanda seemed to sense your sudden anxiety. “It’s alright, the people inside won’t see us. I’ll make sure their minds don’t acknowledge us,” she said, smiling slightly at you.

“Thank you,” you managed to squeak out just as Steve said “Thanks, Wanda.”

She smiled at the both of you and nodded as her eyes began to glow. Tendrils of red energy snaked out from her hands and through the door and windows. Steve opened the door and it was as though no one even heard it, or saw three people come walking brazenly through the middle of the shop.

“Cool place. Is this yours?” Wanda asked, smiling. It seemed like she was trying to cheer you up. You wished she wouldn’t. Her kindness reminded you of what had happened and made you want to cry again. You nodded your head, cheek brushing against Steve’s neck. “Nice,” she said, peering around as she followed Steve.

“Through here?” he asked, nodding his head towards the door in front of him.

You knew the shop well enough you didn’t have to turn around to check, simply nodding your head again instead. He opened the door with one hand, once again supporting you with one hand for a moment before he brought his arm back to cradle you to his chest. He walked through the kitchen area and up the stairs that were shoved up against the back wall. He stopped at the top as he tried to open the door. It was locked.

“Got the keys, sweetheart?” he asked, peering down at you. You nodded, extracting one arm from around his shoulders to dig around in your pocket. You pulled them out numbly and unlocked the door. He opened it and stepped inside, Wanda trailing after you. You didn’t bother putting the keys back in your pocket, throwing them on the table besides the door. It took Steve only a moment to realize your bedroom had to be to the right. The only thing to your left was your tiny kitchen. He started walking down the hallway, pausing only slightly when Wanda spoke up.

“I’ll wait out here,” she said, smiling at you as she took a seat on your squishy sofa.

Steve nodded his head in acknowledgement of what she said and continued down the hall. He glanced in each doorway, passing the laundry room and bathroom before he finally found your bedroom. He nudged the door open with his foot, careful not to let any part of the door frame hit your body. He carried you over to the bed, deftly avoiding any particularly solid-looking things on the floor. You’d been so stressed you’d hardly bothered to clean while you’d been home. You might have been embarrassed if it wasn’t Steve and there weren’t bigger things on your mind.

He bent his knees, removing one hand to carefully pull back your blankets before he laid you down gently onto the bed. He walked to the other side, pausing to pull his shoes off at the foot of the bed, and crawled under the blankets next to you. He sat up against the headboard, reclining on some pillows, and pulled you against him. You sighed softly and rested your head against his chest. He raised his hand to run his fingers over your hair, the other held your hand, rubbing circles into the back of it with his thumb.

This was how he and Rosie used to lay together when they were younger and he’d been having nightmares. It was how he held her in the hospital when the nurses weren’t around.

“I’m not her,” you whispered. You had to tell him. Had to make him understand. But you were afraid. You couldn’t lose him after you just lost Bucky. You still loved Steve. You still loved them both so much.

“I know,” he murmured, placing a gentle kiss onto the top of your head. You laid like that for a long time. You should have been crying, but your tear ducts wouldn’t listen. You wanted to cry. You wanted to rage and scream at the heavens and pull Bucky’s ass out of cryo and beat the sense back into him.

But you didn’t do any of those things. Instead you stared at the wall blankly, cocooned in the safety of Steve’s arms as he murmured loving, comforting things into your hair.

You looked inside of yourself, trying to assess the damage. You were shocked to find nothing there. You felt nothing.

Bucky hadn’t broken your heart, he’d obliterated it.

Chapter 10

This series is finished, but if you want to be tagged in my other fics, check out this post! Sorry, but responses to this post asking to be tagged will be ignored, so send me an ask or like one of the taglist posts!

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