Several Coffee Runs Later

By Christy

Summary: A more light-hearted story about Bucky's recovery post CA2. Will contain friendship, angst, fluff, and more angst. Angsty fluff. And lots of sarcasm. Clintasha, Bucky/Kate Bishop, hints of Steve/Sharon. Not to be taken too seriously.

A/N: Hey, all. Obsessed with the Winter Soldier and also the new Hawkeye comic book series by Matt Fraction and David Aja. This stems from that. This is just an experiment, so we'll see how this goes; also with time constraints, work, editing a novel, we'll see.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter One

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Nat?"

"Since when have I ever steered you wrong, Rogers?"

"... Do I have to answer that?"

"Very funny, soldier. But yes, I'm sure this is a good idea."

"I don't know."

"Not to be blunt, but you really don't have much of a choice, Steve. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s gone, your apartment's not only bugged, but it's in shambles, and you've got an ex-Hydra assassin who's teetering on the edge of sanity at this point."

"I don't know if he can handle it. Not at this point. It's New York. It's... a little close to home."

"Then it'll be good for him. You have to keep reminding him, Steve. Yes, he's fragile, yes, he's vulnerable, but you need to keep reminding him of who he was, who he still is underneath all of that. You trust me, right?"

"You know I do, Nat."

"Good. I'm sending you the address. I'll see you boys soon."

"Wait... you're already there?"

"Steve, you know that Barton and I are partners, right?"

New York was even crazier than Steve Rogers remembered it last, and that had been when the Chitauri had been wreaking havoc. But it'd been about a year since then, and although there were still some remaining signs of the damage, the construction crews had done an excellent and speedy job repairing Manhattan. As Steve drove through the city, he saw "Stark Industries" on some of the construction crews' apparel. Steve shook his head. For all of Tony's bravado and egomania, the man did do a lot of good, like his father.

Steve glanced over at the man beside him. He'd only found Bucky a few weeks ago, thanks again to Tony. Bucky had been sleeping on a park bench dressed in a tattered old coat, in desperate need of sleep, a shave, clothes, and well, pretty much everything else under the sun. But even though it had been pretty easy to convince Bucky to go with him, Steve had another problem. He wasn't in the best place, himself. He was still recovering from his wounds, as quick a healer as he was, and his apartment had a couple bullets in the walls. He also didn't trust the place, as it was still bugged - and Hydra was far from gone.

Tony had offered to put the both of them up in Stark Tower, or somewhere else more secluded. But then Steve had gotten a call from Natasha. She offered another solution: an apartment owned and shared with another Avenger, one Steve hadn't seen in months.

"New York is big," muttered Bucky beside him wearily. "Big and louder than I remember." Although he reeked of sheer exhaustion, both mentally and physically, his eyes remained alert and suspicious.

Steve still wasn't sure this was a good idea.

"Yeah, tell me about it, Buck," he muttered. "I landed right in the middle of Times Square when I first woke up. Not the best place to start."

Bucky was silent. "I don't... I don't remember..." he mumbled, and rubbed his eyes with his metal hand. "I remember..." His hand clenched into a fist, and Steve saw the warning signs - His friend was about to snap, to lash out out of instinct -

"Buck, it's okay," Steve assured him quickly. "We'll get there, all right? We just need to lay low and relax for a while, get off the grid. We'll take it slow, okay? I'm here for you. I always will be." He placed one hand on his friend's shoulder gently.

Bucky turned to look at him, and Steve was slightly unnerved at the inscrutable gaze of his friend's eyes. Weariness, suspicion, torment, frustration, rage...

Steve really hoped Natasha knew what she was doing. He turned on the radio until they hit a jazz station. Bucky relaxed slightly, and Steve was thrilled to see his friend's gaze turn almost wistful.

"I... I like this," Bucky muttered, as if to remind himself. "What is this? It's..."

"Jazz," Steve finished after a pause. "I think this is smooth jazz."

"I like it," repeated Bucky.

"Me, too," agreed Steve.

They turned down several quieter side streets until they reached an older apartment building. Steve pulled into the alley and squinted up at the building. "Well, this is it," he said. "Top floor." He shut off the car and glanced at Bucky. "You okay to do this? We can always go somewhere else if you don't like it."

Bucky was silent. "I guess we'll find out," he said, and looked around warily before slowly exiting the car after Steve. He followed Steve up to the front door and waited as Steve buzzed the top floor.

"This is Barton. If you're selling vacuums, come on up - I need a new one."

Steve frowned. "It's Steve Rogers."

"Cap, you made it," came Clint Barton's voice. "Great, come on up. I don't suppose you'd have a vacuum with you?"

"Uh, no."

"Damn. Was really hoping to avoid that trip to the hardware store. Well, come on up, guys. Tasha's told me about your situation." Clint buzzed them in.

Steve and Bucky entered the building and nearly collided with an old lady and her large white poodle. The poodle sniffed curiously at Bucky's metallic arm, carefully hidden under a shirt and glove, and tried to jump on the ex-assassin with little luck. The old lady apologized and tugged the dog out with her. Bucky glanced back at the dog as they started up the stairs.

"I think... I think I like dogs," he said quietly.

"You always did," Steve said with a small smile. "Big ones. German Shepherds were your favorite."

"So this man... he's your friend?" Bucky muttered as they headed up the stairs.

"Yep. Haven't seen him in a while, though. Honestly thought he'd be around more often," Steve muttered more to himself. "He's been pretty much AWOL since New York. He worked for S.H.I.E.L.D., but I didn't see him much after the invasion."

Bucky remained silent until they reached the top floor. The floorboards creaked beneath their weight, and the door squeaked when Steve knocked on it. Both of them heard a dog barking from inside, a "Quiet, Dog!" and then Clint Barton opened the door, dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans, barefoot. He looked, Steve had to admit, pretty beat up, but better than the last time he'd seen him. Loki had done a number on him, but it seemed as though he was getting through it all right.

Clint's experience with Loki's mind control was one of the reasons Steve had agreed to come here in the first place. Maybe Natasha had been onto something, after all. She did have experience with something similar herself. Not quite the same as Bucky, obviously... but she and Barton had been through a lot, both separately and together.

Clint gave both Steve and Bucky a sweeping look and stepped aside. "Hey, Cap. Been a while." He held out a hand, which Steve shook. He held it out to Bucky, but the ex-assassin just stared at him coolly. "Right. I'm Clint Barton. Come on in, guys." Once the two men were inside, he shut the door and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry about the mess." He motioned to the newspapers and silverware covering the kitchen island and countertops. "Just had breakfast."

Steve looked around. The two-story apartment was an open format, with the kitchen and living room open to each other. There were several doors and a hallway, which Steve guessed led to bedrooms. Definitely roomy - a little old, but roomy. A golden lab-retriever mix shuffled up to them and sniffed them, tail wagging eagerly. Steve was glad to see Bucky's eyes light up, and he even held his working hand out to the dog. The dog licked his glove and almost smiled up at him.

"He's friendly," Clint said. "He's a total baby, but he's great."

Bucky stared Clint down, suddenly retracted his hand, and placed his hand in his jacket pocket, his stance suddenly on edge again.

"Is this where've you been for the past year?" Steve demanded.

Clint shrugged. "I was iffy on S.H.I.E.L.D. a good few months ago, after Coulson got killed - well, stabbed."

"Killed, you mean," Steve said, frowning.

"Nope," said Clint. "Coulson's alive. Hear he's actually going to be the new director of S.H.I.E.L.D., has his own team and everything. Hill went to help him out, asked me to help. But I decided to kick back and lay low for a while."

"Coulson's alive?" Steve demanded. "Did Fury kn- of course he knew." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter now. Natasha said it's all right if we crash with you for a while."

Clint studied Bucky. "Yeah, definitely. Heard what happened. I can relate." His smile was humorless. "Mind control - it sucks, I know. They did a number on me, but I know it was a hell of a lot worse for you. But don't worry - it'll get better, I promise. Slowly. But it will."

Bucky said nothing, but he glanced between Steve and Clint.

Clint rubbed his chin. "Anyway, here's the place. If you guys are hungry or thirsty, we have a ton of food in the fridge. Mac and cheese, eggs, bacon - always bacon - leftover Chinese... Pop-tarts... Coffee..."

Bucky tensed suddenly and looked past Clint, his hand closing into a fist. Steve followed Bucky's gaze, and his eyes widened in surprise. He definitely hadn't expected this.

A girl with long, black hair pulled into a messy bun stumbled through the living area into the kitchen. She looked in her early twenties, wore a sleeping mask over her eyes, an oversized Iron Man t-shirt, and short sleeping shorts. The mask still on her eyes, she tripped over several objects and bumped into the sofa, muttering a curse as she finally stumbled up to the kitchen island and took a seat on one of the bar stools. She folded her arms over one another and plunked her head into them, letting out a sleepy sigh.

Steve and Bucky stared at her.

"You know, Kate, you didn't have to get out of bed," Clint said to her, amused. "It is a Saturday."

"Coffee," muttered the young woman.

"Okay... Hey," said Clint, frowning, "That's my shirt."

"Mmm-hmm," mumbled the young woman. "Forgot to do laundry."

Clint shook his head and turned back to the two men, as if that kind of thing happened all the time. "Anyway, I own the whole building, but if you guys want, I have an extra bedroom in this apartment if you guys don't mind sharing."

"Whozzat?" mumbled the young woman. "You talking to yourself again, Clint?" She reached out a hand until she felt the coffee pot. She grabbed it and drank it, right from the pot.

"Very funny, Kate. This is Steve Rogers and his friend, Bucky Barnes. And this is Kate Bishop, Hawkeye number two, spoiled brat, and coffee-aholic."

Kate snorted and licked her lips before taking another sip of coffee. "You're hilarious."

Clint smirked. "I'm not teasing, Kate." He glanced at Steve and folded his arms over his chest. "So. What do you think, Cap?"

But Steve was frowning at the young woman.

"Well, I thought... We don't want to intrude..." Steve hesitated awkwardly and leaned closer to the archer. "No offense, Clint, but she's a little young for you, don't you think?" he muttered.

The girl burst into laughter and set the coffee down, swallowing a large gulp of black coffee. "Ew, no," she said, cringing. "Gross." She yawned and licked her lips. "Wherezza rest of the coffee at, boss?"

Clint grinned, shaking his head. "Counter, you bum. And no, no... nothing like that, Cap. Kate's like the little sister I never wanted."

"Speak for yourself," yawned Kate. Then she frowned. Slowly lifted her head. And inch by inch, pulled up the sleep mask until her eyes were just visible. She blinked, stared at Steve and Bucky for a long moment. Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

"Clint, you suck," she muttered miserably, and yanked the mask back down. She tried to slide out of her chair, but her foot caught, and she tumbled to the floor in an ungraceful heap. Bucky started forward as if to assist her, and Steve's eyes widened; but Clint just chuckled and peered over the counter at her body on the floor.

"You all right there, hotshot?"

"Shuddup," mumbled Kate petulantly.

A pause.

"Are you going to get off the floor, Katie-Kate?" Clint demanded, amused.

"No," came her muffled voice.

Another door opened, and Natasha entered the kitchen, eyeing Bucky carefully.

"So, boys?" Natasha was smirking at Steve's flabbergasted expression. "What do you think?"

Steve hesitated, glanced at Bucky. Bucky wouldn't go for this. Not when there were other people involved, unknown people. This was a bad idea. Bucky was fragile enough as it was - nightmares, panic attacks, episodes - he wouldn't be okay with this. Too many variables. This was supposed to help Bucky remember, supposed to be a careful, more relaxed rehabilitation. A way to slowly introduce Bucky into the modern world, get him away from everything HYDRA... Help him to learn to be Bucky Barnes again. But even though Clint had gone through mind-control, this place couldn't be right for Bucky. With the way his friend had tensed upon entering Barton's apartment, Steve was almost afraid Bucky would snap completely.

But then his friend said something that shocked him.

"Yeah," said Bucky quietly. "This'll work."

Steve was speechless.

"Woo-hoo," said Kate, her voice still muffled.

Thoughts?

- Christy