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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 5 months ago

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Summary: You and Bucky take his niece to the park, but things become tense when another parents confronts Bucky about his past.

Word Count: 4.9k

MASTERLIST

Finding Peace

As the sun beat down mercilessly on the crowded park, you realized with a growing sense of concern that the drinks you and Bucky had brought along were quickly dwindling. The hot, sultry air seemed to sap the moisture right out of your mouth, and you knew that Winnie, Bucky's seven year old niece, would need to stay well-hydrated if she was going to continue frolicking happily on the sweltering playground. Glancing down at the tiny, solitary juice box in your hand, you couldn't help but glance at Bucky, knowing full well that it would do little to quench his or Winnie's thirst in this heat.

“Hey baby, we're out of drinks.”

“We are?” Bucky looked at you in surprise.

“Unless you want to stay hydrated with this tiny juice box?” You smiled playfully, waving a tiny carton of apple juice at him.

Bucky's eyes widened in surprise at your statement, clearly not having anticipated the drinks running out so soon. As the three of you had set out for the park that morning, you had packed what you'd thought would be an ample supply of refreshments, but the combination of Winnie's boundless energy and the sweltering summer temperatures had made short work of your provisions.

“Uncle Bucky! I need a push!” The little girl's excited calls rang out above the din of the playground, her infectious enthusiasm a testament to Bucky's skill in making her feel loved and cherished.

“Duty calls!” He smirked, getting up. “Coming!”

You gave him a quick kiss. “I'll be back in a bit,” you called after him, chuckling at his eagerness to spend time with his niece.

As you watched him go, you couldn't help but feel a warm glow of affection, both for the way Bucky doted on the little girl and for the way his dedication to her well being seemed to radiate from every step he took. Your heart swelled with joy at the sight, knowing that you were truly blessed to be a part of this family.

As Bucky emerged from the cool, shaded area and stepped out into the open, he was immediately struck by the oppressive sunshine that seemed to radiate from every direction on this bright, summer day. The intense warmth enveloped him, causing him to instinctively push up the sleeves of his shirt as he made his way across the grass towards Winnie.

“Hey Munchkin!” Bucky's face broke into a wide, affectionate smile as he gazed down at Winnie, this small child who had managed to melt his heart in a way no one else ever had. He remembered vividly the day they'd first met - the way she had shyly smiled up at him before suddenly throwing herself at his legs, wrapping her tiny arms around him in a fierce, fearless hug. There had been no hesitation, no apprehension in her expression, only pure, unabashed joy and trust, and in that instant Bucky had been completely smitten. Now, as he drew closer, that same adoring smile still plastered across her features, he couldn't help but feel a profound sense of tenderness and protectiveness towards this precious little girl who had so effortlessly won him over.

The pair were a cheerful sight, with Bucky's usually brooding demeanor softened as he watched Winnie dart between the colorful equipment, her laughter ringing out. But unbeknownst to Bucky, the other parents in the park had slowly begun to take notice of him, their eyes narrowing with suspicion and fear. A few had heard the stories of the Winter Soldier's deadly exploits, the trail of bodies and destruction left in his wake. And now, here he was, in their peaceful neighborhood, cavorting with a child as if he were an ordinary man. Surreptitiously, the parents began to herd their own children away, ushering them towards the exits with murmured warnings. Soon, the once-bustling playground had fallen eerily silent, save for Winnie's carefree giggles. Bucky looked up, brow furrowed in confusion as he realized the other families had dispersed, leaving him and Winnie the only two people in a ten yard radius.

“Where did everyone go, Uncle Bucky?” Winnie asked innocently, her bright eyes shining with childlike wonder.

“I don't know, Win,” Bucky replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of bewilderment and growing unease as he scanned the park, sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

It was then that a burly, imposing figure stepped towards them, the man's stance radiating a threatening aura as he approached the former Winter Soldier and his unsuspecting young charge.

“Hey, you there! What do you think you're doing with that child?” the man barked, his voice harsh and accusatory.

Bucky's muscles tensed as he instinctively moved to shield Winnie from the stranger's looming presence. “She's my niece. What's it to you?” he replied, his tone slightly defensive.

The man sneered, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “I've heard about you, Winter Soldier. You think you can just waltz into our neighborhood and play happy families? We don't want your kind around here, definitely not around our children.”

Winnie, sensing the tension, clung to Bucky's leg. “Uncle Bucky, who’s that man?” she whispered, her voice quiet.

Bucky knelt down, placing a reassuring hand on Winnie's shoulder. “It's okay, Win. Just stay close to me,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving the man who stood before them.

The man took a step closer, his fists clenched at his sides. “I'm warning you, Winter Soldier. Leave now, or there will be consequences.”

Bucky stood up slowly, his jaw set in determination. “I'm not that man anymore. I'm trying to make amends for my past. Please don’t threaten my family,” he declared, his voice firm and resolute. The words were laced with a protective edge, Bucky unwilling to let this confrontation escalate any further.

Yet the stranger remained unmoved by Bucky's resolute stance. He scoffed at Bucky's words, unconvinced by the former assassin's claims of redemption. And just as the confrontation seemed to reach a boiling point, the fearless young Winnie suddenly launched herself forward, her protective instincts overriding her fear. “Leave my Uncle Bucky alone, you… you big bully!” she cried, her voice shrill with determination.

It was only thanks to Bucky's lightning-fast reflexes that he was able to catch her before she could reach the imposing stranger, his arms wrapping around her small frame to hold her back. Winnie kicked and squirmed for a moment, her frustration evident, but Bucky's soothing whispers soon calmed her down. “Come on, Winnie,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving the unyielding man before them. “Let's leave these Neanderthals to their playground. We can go find Auntie Ace and find somewhere better to play.” With a final, pointed glare, Bucky turned and began to lead the girl away, determined to diffuse the situation before it could escalate any further, his protective instincts shielding his beloved niece from the judgment and hostility of those who refused to see him as anything more than the Winter Soldier.

As they walked, Winnie looked up at Bucky, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Uncle Bucky, why did that man call you the Winter Soldier?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Bucky let out a weary sigh, steeling himself to have a difficult conversation with his young niece about his troubled past - a past that still haunted him, even as he strived to redeem himself and forge a new path forward. His vibranium arm whirred softly as he clenched and unclenched his fist, as though the movement might dispel the stress and anguish he felt about the situation.

Little Winnie was truly a remarkable child, possessing a level of perceptiveness and empathy that far exceeded her young years. As she gazed up at her Uncle Bucky, her eyes shining with compassion, she instinctively understood the complex and troubled history that lay behind his stoic demeanor. With a gentle touch, she reached up and cradled his face, her small hands conveying a wisdom and tenderness that belied her age. “It's okay, Uncle Bucky,” she murmured, her voice soft yet unwavering. “I will always love you.”

Bucky felt his expression soften as he met Winnie's penetrating stare, his heart swelling with a mix of pride and sorrow. “Well, Winnie,” he began, carefully selecting his words, “the Winter Soldier is a name I was given a long time ago, when I was a different person.” He paused, the weight of his past deeds palpable in the air between them. “I did things that I'm not proud of, things that… hurt a lot of people.” The admission was laced with regret, a heavy burden that Bucky had carried for years, haunting his every step on the path to redemption.

Winnie's eyes widened in surprise, but there was no judgment in her gaze, only a profound understanding that belied her tender years. Reaching out, she reverently traced the contours of his vibranium arm, a physical reminder of the trauma he had endured. “But you're not that person anymore, right Uncle Bucky?” she asked, her voice filled with a hopeful innocence that tugged at Bucky's heartstrings.

Bucky smiled sadly, his love for his niece evident in every line of his face. “No, Winnie, I'm not that person anymore,” he affirmed, his voice tinged with emotion. “I've been trying to make amends for my past, to be a better man.” It was a constant struggle, a journey of self-discovery and atonement, but Bucky was determined to honor the memory of those he had wronged by striving to become the hero he knew he could be.

Winnie nodded, her young mind processing the weight of his words with a maturity that belied her years. “I believe in you, Uncle Bucky,” she declared, her eyes shining with unwavering admiration. “You're my hero, just like Captain America.”

Bucky smiled back, his heart swelling with love for his young niece. “And you're mine, Win,” he said, taking her hand as they walked away, leaving behind the judgmental stares and whispered rumors of the other parents in the park.

Winnie's eyes suddenly sparkled with unbridled excitement as she tugged urgently on her Uncle Bucky's sleeve, her small finger pointing eagerly towards the glistening waters of the lake in Central Park. "Uncle Bucky, look!" she cried out, her voice brimming with the infectious enthusiasm that only a child could muster.

Bucky couldn't help but smile as he followed the direction of her gesture, taking in the serene scene before them - the tranquil surface of the lake, dotted with the toy racing boats currently drifting lazily across its calm expanse. He knew in that moment exactly what had captured Winnie's attention and ignited her boundless energy.

“You wanna go see the lake, Win?” Bucky asked, his tone gentle and indulgent, for he could never resist the allure of Winnie's bright-eyed wonder.

“The boats! I wanna see the boats!” she exclaimed, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, her pigtails bobbing with each eager movement.

Bucky felt a surge of affection for his spirited young niece, her pure delight at the prospect of watching the boats glide across the water a poignant reminder of the simple joys that can be found in the world around us, if only we have the eyes to see them. Without a moment's hesitation, he knew he could never deny Winnie this chance to explore the tranquil lakeside and marvel at the graceful vessels that danced across its surface, for to do so would be to extinguish the very spark that made her so special.

"Of course we can," he reassured, his voice carrying a hint of the gruff, good-natured tone that was so characteristic of him. With a chuckle, he continued, "Just give me a minute, I've gotta let Auntie Ace know where we're headed so she doesn't worry." He dropped you a location pin, not saying much else in the message. He knew you would worry.

Bucky was right, you were worried. As you hurried back to the park, the melting ice pops in your bag dripped down your arm, the sugary liquid leaving sticky trails in their wake. You clutched the bag tightly, determined not to lose a single treat before you could deliver them to Bucky and Winnie. Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your phone, fully expecting to have to call Bucky to get their location - but to your relief, you saw that he had already sent you their coordinates. With a grateful sigh, you followed the map on your screen, weaving through the crowds of people enjoying the beautiful day at the park. The path led you to the edge of a picturesque lake, where you found Bucky and Winnie excitedly cheering and gesturing at the water.

A group of children had gathered around a small makeshift racetrack, where tiny motorized boats were zipping back and forth across the calm surface of the lake. Winnie was leaning forward, her eyes alight with excitement as she shouted encouragement to one of the red boats. "I bet you two ice pops that the red one wins!" she cried to a boy standing next to her, who scoffed in response.

“Nah uh, the blue one is better. Plus, you don't even have any ice pops!” he retorted, sticking out his tongue in a childish display.

Bucky chuckled at their lively banter as they continued to watch the race unfold. Smiling to himself, you hurried over to join them, the cool, refreshing treat of two vibrant ice pops clutched firmly in your hands. With a warm, grateful smile, Winnie accepted the offered popsicle, the bright blue hue a stark contrast against her delicate fingers. Turning to her new companion, she couldn't resist a good-natured tease. “Still think the blue one is better?” she quipped, her eyes dancing with mischief as she took a delighted lick of the sugary confection.

The boy, Sonny, let out a sheepish chuckle, his hand instinctively reaching up to scratch the back of his head. “I don't have any,” he admitted, a hint of wistfulness in his voice. Casting a longing glance towards the pops, he couldn't help but whine to his nearby father, “Daaaad, can we get some ice pops?”

The father, clearly distracted by the attention of a scantily clad woman who seemed to be on her daily jog, waved off his son's request with an annoyed, "Later, Sonny!" His irritation at the interruption was palpable, and you couldn't help but look at him with narrowed eyes, silently pleading with him as you waved the extra ice pops you had purchased, hoping to secure his permission to share them with the disappointed boy.

Sensing your unspoken plea, the father gave a curt nod, and Sonny's face immediately lit up with joy. “Thanks, lady!” he exclaimed, his grin spreading from ear to ear.

Clearly delighted at the prospect that you had given her new friend the cool, refreshing treat, Winnie turned to Sonny and proudly proclaimed, "That's my Auntie Ace. Isn't she cool?" to which Sonny replied with a grateful smile, “Yeah, pretty cool.”

“So, why did you guys leave the playground? Get bored?” you asked casually.

Bucky didn’t look at you, so Winnie removed the popsicle from her mouth, revealing a bright blue tongue, before explaining, “We left because some mean man was yelling at Uncle Bucky.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion and concern at this revelation. “What?” you responded incredulously, turning to Bucky for more details.

Bucky's broad shoulders rose and fell in a weary shrug as he recounted the incident as succinctly as only Bucky would. “Someone recognized me,” he said simply, his gaze downcast as the painful memories resurface. A familiar frown crossed his rugged features, the lines on his forehead deepening as he stared out at the serene lake before him.

Your heart sank as Bucky recounted the unsettling incident at the playground, his typically stoic demeanor betraying a deep well of pain and anguish beneath the surface. You could see the haunted look in his eyes, the way his broad shoulders slumped with the weight of the traumatic memories being dredged up. Winnie's innocent revelation of a ‘mean man yelling at Uncle Bucky’ now took on a much darker, more sinister tone, and you felt your blood boil with righteous indignation on Bucky's behalf. How dare someone accost this gentle, kind-hearted man simply for being who he was? A victim of circumstances beyond his control, forever scarred by the horrors of war and his past as the Winter Soldier.

A thousand scathing retorts and furious tirades bubbled up within you, a fierce protectiveness surging forth as you yearned to confront this callous individual and give them a piece of your mind. But one glance at Bucky's downcast gaze, the furrowed brow and pained frown etched into his rugged features, and you knew that your anger would only serve to further upset him. This was his burden to bear, the cross he had been forced to carry, and you sensed that he had long since resigned himself to the cruel judgment and unwarranted scorn of the ignorant masses.

So instead, you bit your tongue, swallowing your righteous fury, and focused on offering Bucky the comfort and support he so desperately needed in that moment. Your heart ached to see him so visibly shaken, the trauma of his past still haunting him even as he strived to build a new life filled with love and happiness. With a gentle hand on his arm, you conveyed your unwavering solidarity, silently letting him know that he was not alone, that you would always be there to shield him from the cruelty of the world and help him find the peace he so deserved.

Winnie’s new friend, Sonny, called out enthusiastically, inviting Winnie to come join him and his friends in exploring the nearby statues, an adventure that no doubt promised to be thrilling and captivating for a curious child such as herself. Winnie's eyes lit up at the prospect, and she immediately turned to Bucky, silently seeking his permission to venture off and partake in the outing.

You could see the clear internal conflict on Bucky's face as he wrestled with the instinct to keep his beloved niece glued to his side versus allowing her the freedom to explore and make new friends. As Winnie gazed up at him with those wide, pleading eyes, you subtly nudged Bucky, silently conveying your confidence that she would be perfectly safe in the company of the other children. Yet, Bucky remained uncharacteristically silent, his protective nature clearly at war with his desire to grant Winnie's request.

“Go ahead, Winnie.” You gave her permission.

Sensing his hesitation, Winnie wrapped her small hand around Bucky's waist and looked up at him imploringly, once again asking if she could go join the others. Torn between his love for Winnie and his overarching need to shield her from any potential harm, Bucky found himself at an impasse, his heart and his head at odds as he struggled to make the difficult decision of whether to let his precious niece venture forth on her own or to keep her firmly by his side, where he could ensure her absolute safety. Eventually he nodded and a delighted Winnie skipped off to explore with her new friends.

As Bucky tugged self-consciously at his sleeve, trying to conceal the gleaming vibranium of his prosthetic arm, you couldn't help but notice the subtle gesture. When you suggested finding some shade to sit in, you hoped the change of scenery might help him relax, but as you reached for his right hand, he pulled away, mumbling something about feeling too warm to hold hands. You knew that wasn't the real reason. Undeterred, you shifted closer to his left side, tentatively taking his metal hand in yours. You knew he couldn't feel temperature or pain on that side, but the simple contact seemed to bring him some comfort. He sighed heavily, refusing to meet your gaze, but you could see the tension slowly leaving his shoulders. For so long, he had kept people at a distance, terrified that they would be repulsed by the very thing that made him different. But with you, he was learning to let his guard down, he trusted that your acceptance of him went deeper than surface appearances. It was a gradual process, filled with small victories, and you were determined to be there for him every step of the way.

Though he had worked tirelessly to redeem himself, to become a force for good, the specter of his violent history continued to haunt him, casting a shroud of unworthiness over even the most tender moments. As he sat on the sidelines, observing the carefree laughter of the children, Bucky couldn't help but wonder if he would ever truly be accepted by society, if he could ever be seen as anything more than the brainwashed assassin he had once been. The vulnerability he felt in that moment was almost crippling, a raw, gaping wound that threatened to swallow him whole. He wondered if he deserved the unconditional love and acceptance that his niece had shown him. Bucky knew, deep down, that this wouldn't be the last time he would be made to feel unworthy, undeserving of the warmth and connection he so desperately craved.

“Bucky?” you called him gently, your voice a soft, soothing balm. “Can we talk about what happened?”

“What's to talk about?” He answered gruffly, the defensive edge to his words belying the vulnerability that lurked just beneath the surface. “People still think I'm a dangerous man. It's all I'll ever be.”

But you knew, deep in your heart, that this was not true. You had seen the gentle way he interacted with Winnie, the pure, unadulterated love that shone in his eyes whenever he looked at the little girl. Not because of who he had been, the Winter Soldier, the merciless assassin, but because of who he was now - a man struggling to atone, to find redemption, to reclaim the humanity that had been so cruelly stripped away.

“But why do they matter?” you asked, your gaze steady and unwavering. “Look at how much that little girl loves you,” you pointed at Winnie, the pure, innocent adoration in her expression as she waved at you from the statues, a testament to the man Bucky had become. “Not because of who you were. All she knows and sees is the wonderful uncle who loves her unconditionally. That's who you are.”

You gently reminded Bucky that this behavior was not unique to him. Even the revered Avengers, heroes who had risked everything to save countless lives, faced similar backlash and rejection from some quarters.

“Look at Zemo!” You used the man as an example of someone who had harbored a bitter hatred towards Steve and the other Avengers due to the destruction in Sokovia. Yet the world at large still celebrated the Avengers as champions, symbols of hope in the face of darkness. “The reality is, in this imperfect world, no one - no matter how good their intentions or noble their actions - can please everyone. There’ll always be those who judge, who refuse to understand, who cling to their own narrow-minded views. But Bucky, you can’t let the hurtful words of a few define your worth or your place in society. You’ve overcome so much, fought so hard to redeem yourself, and you deserve to walk tall and proud, even if not everyone is willing to see it.”

Bucky's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions as he grappled with the weight of the situation. Your words of reason had struck a chord within him, their logic undeniable, yet the venomous words uttered by the stranger continued to linger, casting a heavy shadow over his soul. He could not escape the sting of those cruel barbs, their poisonous tendrils sinking deep into his psyche. You watched his internal struggle with a mix of empathy and concern, unwilling to pressure him to process these turbulent feelings before he was ready. But you knew there was something you had yet to share with him, a revelation that you hoped would shift the course of his thoughts, though the trepidation of revealing this news held you back.

As Bucky contemplated the implications, a troubling realization took hold. “Maybe I shouldn't be bringing Winnie out alone anymore,” he murmured, the weight of responsibility bearing down upon him.

You understood his hesitation, yet you also knew that avoiding the issue would only prolong the pain. Gently, you broached the subject, acknowledging your own reluctance to push him, but emphasizing the importance of not letting this incident affect his actions. “Bucky? I'm sorry, you know I'm not normally one to pressure you with this sort of thing, but I'm going to need you to not let it affect your actions.”

His hackles raised at your words, and he shot back, "You think it's ok to just let my niece be exposed to this kind of thing."

The raw emotion in his voice was palpable, but you refused to back down, reminding him, “She's my niece too, Bucky.” Your quiet, slightly upset tone caused him to pause, the shame evident on his face as he recognized the impact of his words. And then, the gravity of the situation truly sank in, as you asked, “And what happens when it's our kid?”

Bucky's expression crumpled, the weight of that unspoken reality settling upon him like a lead cloak. “I don't know, Ace,” he admitted, his voice laced with sorrow.

You sighed, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill forth, your heart aching at the thought of having to have this difficult conversation in such a charged emotional context. You didn't want to tell him you were pregnant, not like this - but now, more than ever, you knew you had to. “I'm going to need you to figure it out,” you implored, your tone tinged with a quiet desperation.

“Give me some time,” he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion.

You knew in that moment that he was grappling with the enormity of the situation, the implications of which would reverberate far beyond just the two of you.

“You have eight months, Bucky,” you told him, your words laced with a quiet urgency. The clock was ticking, and the decisions he made in the coming days and weeks would shape the future you would share together - a future that now held the promise of new life, and all the joy and anticipation that came with it.

As the gravity of your words sank in, Bucky's expression shifted from one of confusion to dawning comprehension. The realization that you were carrying his child seemed to wash over him in waves, his vibrant blue eyes widening with a mix of shock and wonder. You found yourself unable to meet his gaze, anxiety gripping you as you waited for his reaction. Your hands clenched into tight fists, knuckles turning white as you fought to maintain your composure, unwilling to break down in the middle of the park where your young niece was blissfully unaware, playing just a short distance away.

The weighted silence between you felt thick and palpable, the tension nearly suffocating. But then, ever so gently, you felt Bucky's vibranium arm encircle your shoulders, providing a comforting, grounding presence. With his flesh hand, he tenderly cupped your face, guiding it to turn towards his own. His touch was feather-light, almost reverent, as he searched your features, seeking confirmation of the life-altering news you had delivered. “Ace, are you…are you saying that you're… we're… are you pregnant?” The words tumbled from his lips in a hushed, almost disbelieving whisper, a myriad of emotions playing across his rugged countenance.

The tears streamed down your cheeks as you finally confessed your pregnancy to Bucky, your frayed nerves and mounting anxiety causing you to break down in his arms. But Bucky's reaction was nothing like what you had feared - instead of recoiling in shock or disapproval, he immediately scooped you into a warm, loving embrace, whispering soft words of reassurance and comfort into your ear. His voice was low and soothing, radiating pure happiness and excitement at the news, and you could feel the tension and worry melting away as he held you close. In that moment, all your anxieties about how he would respond seemed utterly unfounded, replaced by a profound sense of relief and joy.

As you clung to Bucky, Winnie suddenly came running over, her young eyes filled with concern as she noticed your tears. “Auntie Ace, what's wrong? Why’re you crying?” she asked innocently.

Bucky's face broke into a wide smile as he quickly reassured the little girl, telling her that you were actually crying tears of happiness about something special. When Winnie pressed further, wanting to know what the secret was, Bucky gently told her that she would be the first to know when the time was right, eliciting an excited nod and a sparkle in her eyes.

“I promise that you’ll be the first person we tell when it’s time. Is that a deal?” Bucky held his pinky finger out to the girl, who wrapped her tiny digit around his in a solemn promise.

Bucky then playfully shooed his niece back to her friends, wanting a moment alone with you to bask in this momentous news. Gazing into your eyes tenderly, he pressed his forehead against yours and uttered the words you had been longing to hear.

“I've never been happier, Ace.”

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