Kiss Me Better

3

"Barnes?" you felt silly asking. You took in his eyes, his chin, and his lips, and you knew there was no one else it could've been. "Are you-" you stopped yourself before you could ask another stupid question. "Does anything hurt?" you reached for him, but he stepped back, shaking his head. "Hey," you smiled at him. "it's gonna be ok. I'm not gonna hurt you. We'll fix this."

Bucky looked around as if searching for something.

"I'm sorry." you whispered, drawing his focus back to you. "No one else is here. It's just me." He'd made it painfully obvious you were the last person he'd ever want help from. "But I'm your teammate. Trust that I'm going to do everything I can to help you."

He looked down at his feet, and you wished he'd just tell you what he was thinking.

Sighing, you stood and made your way to the kitchen. "I'm going to make us breakfast. If you want, I'll try to get ahold of Steve after so he can come help you."

In the kitchen, you began pulling out ingredients for pancakes. You were pleasantly surprised when heard the patter of little feet enter behind you. As you stirred, you watched him climb the stool. He was still too small, the counter sitting just below his chin. "I think you're gonna have to sit on top of the counter." you suggested.

You set the batter aside and went to the fridge. Bucky watched you like a hawk as you approached the counter he now sat on. You placed three items by him.

"What do you want in your pancakes?" he looked at the items carefully. He took a strawberry from the first bowl and nibbled on it. Then he took a few chocolate chips, and ate those. Lastly, he took some blueberries. His eyes lit up, and he pointed at them. "Ok. They'll be ready in a minute." you turned to the stove and began pouring the bater. "Hey, what do you want me to call you? I always call you 'Barnes', but do you prefer James or Bucky or...?"

As expected, you were met with silence. You hid your disappointment when you turned to him. He was just watching you again with his scrutinizing gaze. You wondered if he even could talk. He looked to be about three, and he maneuvered well enough that he didn't need help getting on the counter. You didn't know any children, but you were sure kids were talking by his perceived age. You flipped the pancakes and grabbed plates while they finished cooking.

"Bucky." a voice so unlike Bucky's whispered.