Distressed // Steve Rogers

24 - Darkness

"This is nice." Bucky took another bite of the pasta as Talia filled his glass and Steve watched her with a soft smile.

She had spent hours planning tonight; pouring over recipe books, asking Tony for wine recommendations, shopping with Wanda and Nat. She had poured her heart into making it the most normal evening they could share and right now she was the picture of a perfect hostess.

"Oh it's nothing really. It's just oil and garlic, a couple of chilli peppers." She shrugged as she took her seat again. "I did make the pasta by hand though."

Bucky's laugh was quiet and low and he shook his head as he spoke.

"Not the pasta, you idiot."

Steve took a swig of beer and grinned.

"Rude." Talia grunted.

"I mean, this is nice." He waved his fork around as he gestured and Talia glanced at the tiny apartment she sat in. "You two being all domestic, here, in Brooklyn. Me, the child you never asked for taking full advantage of it all. The pasta's good too."

Steve chuckled as he placed his hand gently against Talia's back and rubbed small circles against her skin. It was true. Sitting in the apartment he had practically grown up in with the woman he loved and his childhood best friend; this was something special. He watched silently as the two of them giggled and threw childish comments back and forth and his heart was truly at peace. He watched as Talia laughed, tucking her hair behind her ears and leaning forwards. She was happy and calm and beautiful and he loved her.

"Steve?"

"Hmm?" He turned to Bucky with a distracted gaze and a small smile and Bucky grinned.

"I asked why you brought this place in particular."

"You know why." Steve shrugged.

"I know. But I've never heard you say it, and Little Widow wants to know too." Bucky smirked as he sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, watching as Steve shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He knew why Steve had chosen this place to hole up in when S.H.I.E.L.D had pulled him out of the ice. He knew why he'd kept it cozy and comfortable, even when he spent ninety percent of his time at the compound.

He knew that the small bedroom at the end of the corridor, the second door on the left, held some of their happiest childhood memories at the worst of Steve Rogers' times. There had been countless nights in which the cushions from the couch had been pushed into the room and the two friends had stayed up reading and drawing and talking about the future. It had been their sanctuary when Steve had been beat in the school yard, and when Bucky had been mortified after he'd been shot down by Hazel Nelson the night he asked her to go to the school dance in fifth grade. It was their sanctuary for weeks after Steve's mom died. This apartment was their home, even when home felt broken.

Steve sighed.

"I got this place," he turned to Talia with a soft smile, "because in the thirties -"

"God I forget you're so old." She grinned when he shook his head and raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yes, I am very old." He pecked her lips quickly and she giggled. "Now are you done interrupting?"

"Unlikely," Bucky scoffed.

"Again," Talia laughed as she turned to face the super soldier twisting his pasta onto his fork, "rude. Please continue Ice-Pop."

"In the thirties - yes I'm an old man but you love me - I was happy here. And when I came out of the ice, and I thought Bucky was gone, I needed somewhere to be broken. This is the place that put me back together one hundred times over, so I got Fury to pull some strings and I got this place."