#we gotta start killing more people sam its on my bucket list

[way-too-cool-raybot]

Had an discussion with my friend about this so;

[spnnolifegirl]

Caged

Request : ah okay so could I have a one shot Winchester Sister Reader x Sam Winchester where the Reader is really shy & anxious and her brothers are super protective of their baby sister & and she is like very loyal and she goes with Sam & Rowena & Crowley to hell to make a deal with Lucifer & her and Sam get trapped in the cage with Lucifer & he taunts them & like Sam gets really protective of the Reader during their encounter with Lucifer? Castiel saves them with Dean? lots of angst & fluff.

A/N: OKay, so I have no idea who requested this, but it was on my document, so here it is (also I am proud of it!)

As the little sister of the Winchester’s, you were always there to support your brothers, even in the worst moments. You felt like it was the least you could do because they always act protective and saved your life more than one hundred times.

Sam always told you about his visions, you got scared at first, because Azazel came back in your mind. Though, Sam assured you, he even thinks that God is sending him some visions. As crazy as it seems, you decided to trust him and help him out with this trouble.

“Dean, doesn’t it makes sense? I mean, Lucifer would know how God ended the Darkness. He was there” Sam said.

You have been listening to Sam and Dean arguing over and over about Sam’s idea. He thinks that talking to Lucifer could help to get rid of the darkness.

Dean only shakes his head to Sam and walks away with his bottle of whiskey and the glass. You move to sit beside Sam who is looking depressed, a state you hate to see your brothers in.

“I’ll help you” you said “I think that we need to do something and I am not letting you do anything alone”.

“What?” Sam looks up at you surprise “(Y/N), I don’t want you to get in danger”.

“Oh, spare me, our whole life is danger okay? I want to help you”.

“I know” he put a hand on your shoulder “kiddo, thanks”

You smile up at him.

……………………………..

The three of you met up with Crowley under a bridge near a place where homeless people live. As soon as you arrived there, your two bodyguards stood each side of you.

After explaining everything to Crowley about what Sam thinks about his visions, his reaction had to be there.

“So, God assured you of this, did he?” He asked Sam “I’d say you’re making this up but I never think of you as imaginative”.

“We’re not saying it’s going to happen” Dean cleared up “we just want to know…”

“Theoretically…” Sam added in a small voice.

“If it’s possible”.

“The cage is a can of worms you do not want to open. I believe this conversation is over”.

Crowley lifts up his hand, ready to snap his finger, but you stop him.

“Wait, Crowley, you know that the Darkness is going to kill everyone and everything. You are not that special to be spared”.

“Yeah” Sam backs you up “and you had a shot at taking her out when she was with you, but apparently, you thought that sucking up was the way to go”.

“And that didn’t end well” Dean added.

“Because she chose you” Crowley said to Dean “and you couldn’t control your girlfriend. What happened in that room? Why did she insist on sparing you?”

You and Sam both turn your head towards Dean, a questioning look on your faces. What is Crowley talking about?

“What is she to you?” Crowley asked seeing Dean not answering.

“Wanna know what she is Crowley?” Dean snapped “how about God’s sister!”

“God’s sister? He has relatives? I had that kind of leverage under my thumb and I let it slip away”.

“Can we focus on the big picture here, okay?” Dean asked “can Sam meet with Lucifer or not?”

“In the cage” Sam added.

“No, not in the cage. That’s not going to happen”.

“Okay, then I don’t meet Lucifer. Dean, we can’t let him out”.

You bite your lip, a bad idea coming up into your mind.

“What?” Dean asked Crowley who is staring at him.

“There may be a way. Cleary, if Sam enters the cage, he’s gone. And yes, it’s on my bucket list, now is not the time to be selfish. Need a secure site, a way to neutralise Lucifer’s powers”.

“In hell?” You asked.

“Yes, in hell!” He shouted like it was obvious “so we have a modicum of control. You think I want that abomination running amuck upstairs?”

“Is it possible to control the situation? Because I Sam’s not safe, it’s not happening” Dean said in his overprotective voice.

“Goodness mummy” Crowley rolled his eyes “Of course I don’t have a key. The mechanisms of divine manufacturer, I believe its secrets, along with spells for warding Sam were recorded where many such mysteries are found: the Book of the Damned”.

That was good enough for you. You and the boys had faced so much, and the trust you have on them is so strong. You had fate that this was going to work… it has too.

……………………..

The plan was all set up, Crowley was in charge to get his mother up so you could talk to her. Well, more Sam and Dean, because they never let you do the talking.

You and your brothers wait outside the ‘Kings’ room. You still laugh at the fact the he has his own thrown.

Sam taps your shoulder, bringing you out of your mind, he indicates the door leading you inside. As you walk in, you see Rowena, stood up in front of Crowley, cuffed.

“Oh” she sighs looking back at her son “you’re not handing me over to them?”

She looks back you three, with a disgusted look, but you can’t help to laugh to yourself.

“It’s beneath even you” she continued “they’re your enemies as well”.

“All right Rowena” Dean said taking a step forward “we get it. We all enemies, okay. But right now we’ve got bigger fish to fry. Then we can go back to killing each other”.

After some talk, she finally accepts to hear you out about the plan. She was very surprise to know that God has a sister, but hell, everyone was. Even you, after everything you saw and lived, not a lot of things surprises you.

…………….

Even after Dean told you two to not move, and continue with the research with Rowena in the bunkers dungeon, you two didn’t listen.

Sam had tried to call Dean, but he did not answer, and Rowena kept urging the situation.

By Sam’s side, you walk in the hallways of Hell. The first time you go down there, Sam and Dean both died and went to Hell, excepted you. You never died, you only saw them, but it was worse than dying.

“You sure about this?” Sam whispered to you “you could wait it out, it’s-“

“No, Sam” you cut him off with a confident smile “there is no turning back, and I told you, I’m with you on this one”.

He nods squeezing your shoulder.

You, your big brother, the witch and the King of Hell arrive at the cage. Not what you thought it was going to be. You cannot even see Lucifer in it. It is only a dark place with thunder, only torches lighting up the place.

You stay beside Sam as he talks to Crowley, but you do not listen to them. You start to get more and more anxious about all this, a bad feeling down in your guts.

You look up at your brother, feeling at little better to know that he is here.

“Let’s just hope she knows what she’s doing” Sam said “this cell won’t hold crap if the warding is not right”.

“Don’t worry about me, Samuel” Rowena said walking past you head high “I’m a professional”.

You take a deep breath, scared of what is going to happen, only imagining the worst.

Rowena goes behind you, Sam and Crowley, reciting the words. A square of fire starts all around the cage.

“Now… let’s have a go at that cage” Rowena says.

The stress goes higher and higher, your breath getting stuck in your throat. You reach your hand to your brother’s sleeve, gripping it as if you were five years old again. Though, seeing his face, it was also to help him too.

“It begins” Crowley said.

You bite you’re inner cheeks,  watching as the thunder goes crazy, the fire going up, building walls.  In the flames, if you focus enough, you can see dark, but yet fiery red eyes.

Sam grabs your arm, pulling you away with him out of the way. Enough so that Lucifer won’t see you first, but see Crowley and Rowena.

Crowley and Lucifer discuss a few words, before Sam leaves you there and walks to the others. You anxiously watch them, ready to jump out any time.

“Sam Winchester” Lucifer whispers as he sees him “my old roomie. Hug it out? I gotta say, I’m a little in the dark about this meeting. Am I up for parole? Time off for bad behavior?”

Lucifer chuckles, giving you the chills. And you know that for Sam it must be one hundred times worst, since he is standing in front the devil.

“I don’t really get visitors”.

“If it weren’t for the crisis top-side, you wouldn’t be getting one now” Sam finally says.

“Crisis?” Lucifer asked, intrigued.

“You’re aware of the Darkness?”

Lucifer breaths in “yikes, that doesn’t sound good. Um, I’m aware of what she was, but that was eons ago”.

“She’s been released. So now she’s somewhere on earth”.

“How did that happen?”

“The point is” Sam ignores him “she poses a threat to all that exits, including you”.

They discus about the Darkness, while you just stand in the dark, watching. But, as Lucifer speaks and walks to the other end of his cage, his eyes meets yours, freezing you in place.

However, he keeps his discussion with Sam, ignoring you. As you watch, you suddenly see the warding fading, the fire disappearing. You run up to your brother, fearing what was next.

“Finally, little Winchester shows herself” Lucifer smiled.

Sam pushes you behind you, keeping an arm around you, but this arm is what brings you in danger. You and Sam are suddenly in the caged, with the devil.

“Together again” Lucifer smiled eyeing the both of you “with a little bonus!”

Sam pushes you in the corner, almost hoping you could pass through the bars.

“Hey, Sam Winchester, you miss me? I bet you did. I have to say, you’re… you’re extraordinarily calm, given the circumstances. Not like little (Y/N)”.

Even though you are trying hard to hide your fear, your hard breathing and shaking hand kills it all.

“It’s pretty much exactly how God told me it was gonna be” Sam said, confident, hiding his fear “guess I just have to go with it and play my hand”.

“Well, that would make so much sense if it was God that was doing the talking. You see Sam, when the Darkness descended the impact on Hell was massive. The Cage was damaged. Through the fissures I was able to reach out. It wasn’t God inside your head Sam. It was me”.

You heart falls down to your stomach, feeling like you could hurl at any seconds now. All this time you had faith, believing what your brother believed, and it was a trap?

“So you see, he’s not with you. He’s never been with you. It was always… just… me. So, I… I guess I am your only hope”.

You remember the discussion, Lucifer wanting him as his vessel, again. Flashbacks of Sam possessed at the apocalypse comes back to your mind, scaring you even more that everything replays.

“It’s never going to happen” Sam spat.

“Ah, well, settle in there buddy. Hey, roomie… upper bunk? Lower bunk? Or you wanna share? Gotta let the lady have a place, now”.

…………………

You do not know how much time it has been since you and Sam got stuck in the cage. The both of you are seated in the corner, Sam still in front of you, protecting you for Lucifer.

You block out everything he says, knowing how hurtful it would be. Instead, you keep your hopes up to get out. You know Rowena and Crowley will get Dean and find a way for you to get out.

“Hey! Little Winchester! We haven’t had a chat yet!”

“Leave her alone” Sam growled.

“Oh, come on Sammy. I wanna have a little chat with her, never had a chance to get to know each other. She has two overprotective body guards with her”.

“I can protect myself on my own” you said, your fist tight.

“Well, let’s see that… I have a plan that could get the Darkness down, but I need your brother. So…. Here is plan B”.

He pushes you down on the floor, and hits Sam square in the face, sending him next to you on the ground.

“I think that the good old methods are always the best”.

Lucifer grabs you by your coat and hits you, over and over again. Each hit being stronger and stronger, making you feel numb at the end. He finally pushes you back to the ground, you spit out blood pain invading your body.

“Sam! (Y/N)!”

Dean. You’re Dean. You knew he would come and get you. He is batman, and batman always win.

“Welcome to the party”.

You look up, seeing Cass and Dean standing in the cage, both of them eying you and Sam.

Sam grabs you, himself struggling with pain. He checks you out quickly helping you in a sitting position.

Your eyes are glued on your eldest brother, feeling a heavy weight getting off your shoulders when you hear him say ‘not even a little’ to Lucifer, who asked him if he was scared. Obviously, Dean being Dean is not scared.

Castiel takes out his angel blade and attacks Lucifer, fighting him while Dean comes to you. He holds both of you up, checking your injuries.

“We can’t win” Sam said.

“We don’t have to win. We’ve just got to last a few minutes”.

Dean passes a hand in your hair, he smiles and tells you to sit tight, and not move an inch, that he was going to protect you.

Sam and Dean get up and join the fight, helping Castiel. You just sit there, feeling like a weak little child who cannot fight, but you can. The trigger comes when Sam and Castiel are both on the ground, Dean being held by his throat, threatening to kill him.

You stand up and jump on him, fighting him off with all the energy you can get in those punches. Though, Lucifer manages to get you once again to the ground, beating you up with more pain.

Though, suddenly it goes away, you see Castiel dragging him away, Lucifer being changed by Dean’s worried face.

It does not last long, a white bright light blinds the darkness and you are out of the cage, Dean holding you up.

TAGS : @rosie-winchester​​​ @evyiione​​​​ @jamric​ @awkwardandawesome @the-third-winchester-warrior

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[imaginetonyandbucky]

Dream a Little Dream of Me - Ch3/4

The days after the ‘incident’ are a blur for me. Loki, Thor’s extravagant brother, decided it’s prime time for some seasonal mischief on Earth and throws an evil overlords’ party in New York for the Avengers to deal with.

Thor said Loki was adopted but damn…someone needs to find the guy some hobby. Only a demi-god bored out of his mind would bring all sorts of funky alien creatures to the middle of Manhattan for an afternoon playdate.

All. Week. Long.

Contrary to Steve’s wishes, I joined the fight the second day, after a gigantic alien bug smashed through the common floor’s windows and disrupted my relaxing round of Smash bros. Thought it was appropriate to join the Hulk and do some smashin’ of my own.

By the end of the week, I didn’t even mind Steve’s disapproving pout when he called the assemble and I just automatically went to suit up as well.

And today is no different.

“You know, I’m starting to suspect your little brother might actually hate you,” Clint says with all the subtle sarcasm he could come up with, glaring at Thor.

“He indeed appears to be in a foul mood! But we shall prevail against these…sluggy…glistening armored fish abominations just like we have prevailed in the past!” Thor booms and doesn’t fail to grab both of Clint’s shoulders in a deathly grip of brotherhood.

“Let’s try apprehending Loki this time, before he slips back into Asgard. Again,” Steve sighs from the front seat of the quinjet.

Me and Clint drop down first to take the high-ground while the quinjet touches down on the coast and the Avengers pour out to deal with the…sluggy armored fish abominations hands on.

“Alrighty, here we go. Wanna bet who gets more of those little slimy critters?”

“I refuse to be the Gimli to your Legolas,” I roll my eyes and assemble the Stark-designed sniper rifle with precision and speed that’s partly my own, partly the Soldier’s.

“A-ha! So Cap did give you his bucket list of movies you gotta catch up with! Or more like…Bucky-list, amirite?” he snickers, already sending arrows left and right.

Sometimes I wonder if this guy is seriously an adult.

(Read-more ahead!)

“Shut up and shoot. You’ll need the extra shots if you wanna beat me.”

“And here I thought you don’t wanna be the gruff dwarf to my lean, Elfish awesomeness! I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you.”

“Bullets are faster than arrows,” I point out and take aim at the first fishy beast. When I pull the trigger, the bullet goes straight through its toothy jaw, body going limp and onto the ground.

“We’ll see about that!” he takes the challenge and intensifies his shooting.

It only takes a minute for us to realize we might have a problem. Unless we hit the funky creatures in their weak, unarmored spots of skin, the arrows – and the bullets – ricochet off their armor.

Asgardians and their damn magic.

“Well, so much for this,” I discard the rifle and wire down the building to join the fray up close. Let’s see how resistant the critters are to a metal fist.

“Aw, maaaan,” I hear Clint sputter through the radio and spot him descending down here as well. He might be the master of long-range fights, but he sure doesn’t shy away from some close combat – if necessary.

And this time it is necessary.

Steve and Thor successfully smash the magic-enhanced creatures with their superior shield and hammer combo and Natasha has already switched from deadly bullets to deadly daggers. Sam is flying all around the place, usually just setting up the kills for the others and making sure the perimeter is clear and that’s it. Since Steve ordered both Bruce and Tony to take a day off, we kinda lack the raw smashing power and the devastating Iron Man repulsors.

Or…not?

I watch not three, but five of the armored beasts explode in what is unmistakably repulsor fire and glance up just in time to spot the flash of gold and crimson. Something about a fully weaponized flying suit of armor is just so damn cool…so who can blame me for observing it throughout the past few battles. Very closely. Purely out of curiosity and…tactical reasons. Yeah, all about tactics.

Speaking of which, there’s a disapproving Captain America about to have a fit in the comms in three, two, one…

“Iron Man! I told you to stay in the Tower for this one!”

Here we go.

“Oh. Did you? I could swear you said play in the shower…which I did and now I’ve come to play here. So rude not to invite me to a party like this, Capsicle!”

“As much as I would argue about the party bit – again – we could actually use an extra hand here, couldn’t we?” Natasha saves us from Steve’s imminent lecture for now and everyone resumes their fighting efforts.

Loki is nowhere to be found this time, which is bad news. He’s either getting bored of this himself, or he’s on the lookout for more weird aliens to send our way tomorrow.

Twenty minutes later, the coast is clear. Kinda. It’s full of dead, slimy fishy bodies that are already starting to smell worse than before.

“Alright, let’s check the perimeter, make sure we’ve got them all. Someone is going to have to deal with all these,” Steve commands and looks around the graveyard of a battlefield.

“I’ve called it in. Fury should be here with the clean-up crew any minute. He likes sushi so this should be right up his alley,” Tony chuckles and lifts off. “See ya back in the shower. I mean Tower.”

I don’t even have to turn around to know that deep sigh of utter desperation comes from our mighty leader. He orders us back to the quinjet and within minutes we are back in the Avengers Tower, safe and sound.

Safe from the aliens at least. The fury on Steve’s face as he spots the disobedient engineer at the bar with Bruce could only be rivaled by the fury on Fury’s face when he sees the mess we’ve left in there for him to clean up.

“What were you thinking?!”

“Hm? Oh, I was thinking we could skip shawarma and go for double Shirley Temple’s all around. Or a Roy Rogers for you if you fancy something alcoholic, it’s past five so we can do that without Bruce calling the AA. Here, have one,” Tony hands the drink with an over-the-top umbrella to the rapidly advancing Captain, not expecting what happens next.

To be fair, nobody really expects Steve to slap that cocktail out of Tony’s hand with enough force to cause an audible smack and all but lift him off the bar stool, hand twisted into his shirt’s collar.

“I gave you a direct order! You don’t listen to me and my lectures and that’s fine, but this was a mission, Tony! You’ve been barely keeping yourself on your feet this entire week! You’re either gonna get yourself killed on the field or worse, someone else! I don’t want to see you anywhere near a battle until you’ve rested, eaten and gotten your act together!”

“Yeah? Then how about you back the fuck off, Rogers!” he spits into Steve’s face, all traces of amusement – fake, but still amusement – gone from his features.

I remember that look all too well from one week ago, when I’ve taken one too many steps towards the already panicked man. Back then I’ve written it off as circumstantial. But apparently he’s actually got enough reasons to flinch away from imposing supersoldiers.

And I’ve seen just about enough evidence.

“I will, when you - ” Steve starts, but to his own shock doesn’t get to continue.

I have found that a metal fist pushing against one’s neck usually has that effect on people. I have also found that trying to execute said move against a friendly in the presence of one Natasha Romanov usually ended up with me dodging a rain of daggers and snapping out of whatever rage-filled Soldier episode I’d be under at the time.

But this rage is all me and judging by the lack of daggers, Natasha must be thinking the same.

Steve stumbles back, the hand he’s been holding Tony with a second ago flies to my metal one still pushing him backwards, until I decide we’re far enough.

“Bucks, let me go, I’m just - ”

“I don’t care.”

“Buck - ”

“I. Don’t. Care,” I repeat with all the intimidation I can without really snapping into the Winter Soldier right here and there.

He stares at me, the anger dissipating in an instant. For the first time since I can remember, he’s not looking at me with concern, pity or disappointment. Just surprise, confusion…and little tiny bit of fear.

It should probably alarm me, but there’s no excuse for Steve’s behavior. Giving him a little taste of his own medicine might just work.

“Go cool off. Now,” I command, releasing him from my firm, but harmless grip.

Steve hangs on the spot for a moment, his widened eyes searching my face for…I’m not sure what. He probably doesn’t find it in the end and backs away and out of the room without a word.

I don’t know what I’d do if he didn’t. Or I don’t want to really think about it.

“Wow. Did you just send the Captain to his room to think about what he’s done like the naughty little kid he is?” Clint whistles and walks up to me, hand already up, expecting a high-five. He abruptly stops few feet away though, glancing at something behind me. “Right…well, I need a shower.”

“Splendid idea! Let’s go converse about today’s battle underneath the falling sprinkle!” Thor decides and goes ahead first.

“For real,” Sam nods when he sniffs at Clint, nose scrunched up.

“You’re not exactly smelling of roses yourself,” Clint retaliates and both bird men head for the elevator, fiercely glaring at each other the whole way.

I risk turning around, fearing whatever it was that stopped even Clint in his tracks, but there’s nothing to see, really. Tony has sat back on the stool, looking down at his fidgeting fingers with that scary, closed off expression.

Bruce’s expression is anything but closed off – his rage is carefully hidden behind his eyes and to anyone else, he looks just as calm as ever. Until you realize that angered spark is next to last thing one would see before he turns all green.

He gives me a tiny smile and a nod, his left hand resting on Tony’s forearm in a simple, comforting gesture.

I return the nod and dodging Natasha’s own searching squint, I leave the room as well. I’ll make sure Steve gets his shit together and Bruce will make sure Tony’s okay. Sounds fair enough.

Just gotta ignore that painful sting that stabbed at my chest as soon as I’ve seen the two sciencebros together. Haven’t felt that one in…decades.

And it freaks me the hell out.

“Sergeant Barnes? Sergeant?”

I stir from my usual limbo to the gentle sound of JARVIS’s purposefully lowered, but urgent voice. “Wh’t?” I slur, running a hand over my eyes, clearing my vision a little bit.

Did I fall asleep? I was reading this weird book about sparkling vampires and…oh wait. Yeah. That might be the reason why I fell asleep. Natasha did mention I shouldn’t read it past midnight unless I really wanted to sleep.

“If I could possibly bother you with a…request,” JARVIS continues in the same, uncertain but adamant tone that he only ever uses when something serious is going on that he can’t do anything about. A mission…or Tony.

“S’mthin’ wrong?” I discard the large book and stretch in the chair.

“Possibly…do not be alarmed, please. It is nothing life threatening I assure you, but…your assistance would be much appreciated. By me, that is.”

So it is Tony. JARVIS always speaks in twisting riddles when his creator is concerned. Sometimes I don’t understand this dynamic they’ve got going. I suppose something in his code is preventing him from being straightforward about these matters – so he’s forced to improvise.  

“What is it, JARVIS?”

“Sir has – how do I put it. He deemed it necessary to use last resort means in order to sleep tonight.”

Well, that didn’t sound ominous at all. “Last resort? Where is he? What kinda la - ”

“He is drinking by the penthouse piano, Sergeant. Not excessively, yet, but he had only just begun.”

“Oh. I’m not sure how I can help you with that.”

“I would usually request Colonel Rhodes’s presence in such cases, but he is too far to make it here soon enough. I…would prefer if Sir was not alone.”

And that right there is why everybody likes JARVIS. Because JARVIS likes everyone. He’s proven on many occasions before he’d go through great lengths to make everybody’s life here the best experience possible. Even my own.

But let’s just say this pursuit of his intensifies a thousand fold when it comes to Tony. And I can’t argue with that at all.

“What’cha want me to do?”  

“Just keep him company.”

“I can do that,” I nod and get up, walking straight to the opening elevator. It’s a simple enough request, but... “Wouldn’t Bruce be a better choice though?”

“I believe given the current circumstances, Sir would appreciate you more than Dr. Banner,” JARVIS replies without hesitation, the raw honesty in his statement making me pause in my tracks for a second.

“Why?” I ask in a mere whisper, hand resting against the wall of the now moving elevator. Next to Colonel Rhodes, Bruce is Tony’s best friend when it comes to the Avengers. And me...I’m pretty much just a stranger.

“Because you understand,” he answers as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I let that sink in, while the elevator stops and opens on the floor I can’t say I’ve ever been on before. I often go to the roof, which is right above the penthouse, but the penthouse itself has always been taboo for me. Actually most of the Avengers.

It’s Tony’s sanctuary, much like the workshop. That makes it two places in the Tower I haven’t been in.

Or just one, now that I take a cautious step inside the spacious room. The lights are dimmed, but it isn’t hard to spot the engineer. He’s right where JARVIS said he would be – by the black concert piano next to the bar. One hand holding onto a bottle of brandy, the other ghosting over the black and white keys in some random melody.

It feels like I’m invading his privacy…technically, I am. Hopefully JARVIS was right or I might have to dodge a furiously hauled bottle of liquor.

Before I can decide how to best announce myself without startling him, his hand stills over the keyboard and the other extends toward me. It’s shaky and makes the golden liquid slosh in the bottle in wild audible waves.

“On second thoughts,” he looks at me with somewhat unfocused eyes, “why waste this expensive beauty on someone that can’t even get drunk.” The hand moves back to rest the bottle on Tony’s thigh and he squints at me. “Can you get drunk?”

Now that I think about it, I guess I can’t. If Steve can’t, then chances are it’s the same for me. I don’t remember HYDRA ever experimenting with this particular fact and the Soldier definitely didn’t go on any post-mission beers either.

“S’pose not,” I shrug, observing the surprisingly very sober man. He appears a bit hazy, but that could just be the exhaustion from however many hours he hasn’t slept for this time. “And I’m more of a beer guy anyway.”

He perks up at that, the squint disappearing. “Really? Where did you get your hands on a beer during the Great Depression?”

I chuckle and deeming it safe enough I walk slowly to the piano. “New York wasn’t all that big on prohibition you know? And by the time I could drink, prohibition was all but over anyway.”

Tony looks up in thought and nods. “Ah yeah…forgot,” he adds in a whisper and focuses back on the keys, not playing anything, just touching them curiously.

“There was this warehouse…I don’t really remember what it was called. I used to go there with a couple other fellas on the weekends to earn some money. Heavy liftin’ and stuff. Wasn’t much, but the manager always invited us for a pint after the shift. He was Irish I think...taught us all sorts of drinkin’ songs. And games.”

I smile at the memory. It’s so rare for me to recall something with enough detail to make a story out of it, but somehow all the drunken Saturdays just got back to me now.

I glance at Tony and catch him staring at me with a smile of his own.

“Drinking games? Now that’s more like it, Sergeant. And you said you wouldn’t know what to do when you can’t sleep,” he grins and puts the bottle up on the shiny surface of the piano, nudging it closer to me.

“S’not gonna work,” I poke the bottle and sigh. Can’t say I haven’t thought about it. But a drunken haze is a little too close to the dreamless abyss so yeah, I’d rather avoid that.

“Sucks.”

“How’s it workin’ for you?”

“Like magic! Can’t remember shit in the morning.”

“You don’t look very happy about it though,” I point out, leaning gently against the luxurious wooden instrument.

The grin slips away as his eyes travel down to the keys. “Isn’t exactly the best way to…how did your bestie put it? Rest and get my shit together? That. Contrary to everyone’s belief, I really would prefer the usual way.”

“Yeah…sorry about him, by the way. That was way out of line. What he did.”

“Thought he was supposed to fight the bullies, not be one of them,” he scoffs, playing a deep, dramatic accord.

Just as I imagined, he’s not really angry with Steve about what happened. He’s just quietly resigned about it.

And that’s just wrong.

I can be mad at my best friend for the both of us – and I am – but Tony should at least make it clear that leader or not, worried or not, Steve’s behavior was unacceptable. And if he wouldn’t listen, then he should explain what’s really going on underneath all the pretense of irresponsibility and recklessness.

Then again, same could be said for me. Even JARVIS suggested it. Just tell them the truth. Some things really are easier said than done.

I understand though. And only now I realize that I might be one of few that really do. We have the same kinda problem, with the added irony of wishing we could swap places.

To dream and not to dream.

I don’t really wanna deal with the others…explaining this to them, not even Steve. Especially not him. But Tony understands just as much as I do and I can’t say that I mind. Not at all. It’s…nice to know there’s someone in here that I don’t have to hide under a mask from. Someone that goes out of his way to make things easier for me – and I will sure as hell do the same.

“You’re right. I told him as much so…he tries somethin’ like this again, I’ll deck him in the face hard enough he flies all the way back to Brooklyn.”

He looks at me, eyes wide and mouth forming an astonished ‘o’. “Sergeant Barnes! That’s your best friend you’re talking about!” he maintains the scolding expression for a second before breaking into a laugh. “I’d pay to see that actually,” he adds in a whisper.

“You won’t have to, if he ever decides to be an asshole again.”

He yawns, eyeing the bottle still discarded on the piano.

“You play?” I opt to change the subject – and divert his attention away from the brandy again.

He shakes his head, glaring at the keyboard. “I guess. Mom used to…she was good at it, too. She thought me how to play, but hey. Playing the piano isn’t really the trademark Stark forte. Didn’t get to practice much…so now I’m just abusing this poor thing with my lack of skill whenever I feel like waking up the neighbors with broken as fuck Chopin.”

“Can’t be the judge of that. Never heard your broken as fuck Chopin,” I shrug and consider it a win when Tony laughs in response and waves at the nearby chair, the bottle all but forgotten.

“Grab a front row seat then, Sarge!” he offers.

I walk over to the chair and take it, but before moving it closer to the piano and sitting down, something needs to be done with this. “You can just call me Bucky, you know?”

“I will if you will,” he turns around a little to look at me, hands folded.

“You want me to call you Bucky?”

“Don’t be cute,” he conjures up an angry pout. “Besides…Bucky’s like a name for a dog. What the hell were you thinking?!”

“I was thinking five of my schoolmates were James’ so…Buchanan…Barnes...they thought Bucky was clever.”

“For a dog,” he repeats but has troubles keeping a smile from cracking his façade.

“Call me James then!” I flail and roll my eyes, trying not to indulge him too much.

“I already have a James friend,” he points out and looks thoughtful.

“You never call him James though.”

“Because it’s lame,” he mumbles and something sparkles in his hazy eyes, clearing them instantly. “For him I mean…James…sounds so old-fashioned. Might just be perfect for you,” he smirks and shuffles with the chair to a side a bit to make space for me.

“Dunno if I should be offended or not.”

“Definitely not. You will however be offended by this,” he points at the keyboard and starts playing something classical.

I suppose it’s the Chopin, but I’d never be able to tell anyway. It’s quick and melodic and…nice. So I just put the chair next to him, watching, listening.

By morning we’d moved to the couch to continue the random banter and eventually fall asleep.

And the dreamless slumber came again, only this time it didn’t feel all wrong, for whatever reason.