barnes | metal arm comfort ( f )

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summary - what bucky considers the worst part of himself, is the only thing that brings his daughter comfort while you're away

word count - 0.2k

"Come on, Munchkin."

Bucky had tried everything. He'd fed her, changed her, even tried to sing that sweet song he knows she likes to hear from you. Nothing had helped, and every teething toy from the freezer had gone warm, laying abandoned on your empty bed.

You're away with Sam on a recovery mission, and Bucky, well the poor guy thought he had the house tied down in your absence. It turns out, he didn't, this being the third night he lost sleep to teething.

His flesh hand supports your daughter's head, tucking her in closely to his neck and chest. Her hands are slimy, curled around the metal of his dog tags and the thick curls at the nape of his neck. He's given her the recommended doses of medication, even ran them both a bath. Nothing was helping.

Finally, exhausted with his lack of sleep, Bucky gives up. He falls softly onto the couch, laying the baby down on his thighs. He lays a warm hand across her tummy, metal fingers catching just beneath her chin when it begins to tremble.

"No more tears, Tulip." Bucky pleads, ready to retract his cold touch when Brooke latches onto his metal finger, soft eyes fluttering gently with relief. Bucky, having always been apprehensive of hurting her with his prosthetic hand, always carrying the weight of it's violence and pain, stills cautiously. His face relaxes seeing the contentment on his baby's features. Residing his initial protest, Bucky pulls the baby into his chest, the worst part of himself being the one thing to bring comfort to his baby.

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