On the walk to the diner, Bucky wore panic like armor, rigid shoulders, stiff spine, his expression locked in full alert. His eyes scanned everything, muscles coiled like he expected an ambush at any moment.
Mira, on the other hand, was too distracted by the glimmer of New York to notice his discomfort. Neon signs blinked overhead, traffic buzzed by, and every window felt like a new world to explore. I never brought her into Low town after we moved, so this, this city noise and chaos, was all new to her.
When we reached the diner, Bucky gently set her down in the booth, placing her between us like a fragile artifact he wasn't sure how to handle.
We ordered, three stacks of pancakes, and then the silence rolled in. I handed Mira the tablet I'd grabbed on the way out. She dove into a game without missing a beat, humming as her fingers tapped away.
Bucky sat with his hands tightly interlaced on the table, unmoving. I picked at my nails. Across the room, a group of teenagers laughed softly around a corner booth. The staff busied themselves behind the counter. To anyone else, we probably looked like a regular family, just out for a very early breakfast.
I stared at him for a while, then asked the question we were all quietly avoiding.
"Now what?"
He looked at me, no answer forming. Just stillness. That same uncertainty in his eyes that I felt boiling under my own skin.
"The sun's going to come up soon," I added, softer this time. "It'll be a new day. We need to decide where we go from here."
"What was your plan?" he finally asked.
"I didn't have one. Just… find you. Figured we'd go from there."
He nodded, lips pressed into a thin line.
"We've got the motel room for a few more nights, but after that... we'll need to figure something else out."
"Just stay with me," he said, without hesitation. "You two can take the bedroom. We'll figure the rest out later."
"You sure that's a good idea?" I asked, hesitant. "My intention wasn't to derail your life when you're just starting to move on."
"You're not," he said, almost too fast. "And I wasn't moving on. I don't think I ever can, not really… not after everything I've done." His gaze shifted to Mira, who was now quietly humming a tune, eyes focused on her game.
"I've missed enough," he said. "I don't want to miss more."
"Well…" I started, but didn't get to finish.
The waiter returned, sliding our plates onto the table. Mira's pancakes had a smiley face drawn in chocolate syrup. Ours were plain. My train of thought dissolved with the rising steam of the food.
We ate in silence. Not a bad one, not tense. Just… quiet.
When the check came, Bucky grabbed it before I could reach for my cash. Probably for the best, I didn't even know if I had enough on me.
As we slid out of the booth, Bucky moved to pick Mira up again, but she swatted his hand away.
"No! I walk now," she declared proudly, hopping down from the booth. But once her feet hit the floor, she reached for his hand anyway.
Without thinking, he gave it to her. Only afterward did I realize why he looked suddenly so uncomfortable, she'd grabbed his left hand.
He left it open, fingers slightly spread, unsure what to do with it. He didn't close it. Maybe he was afraid too.
We kept walking.
Then Mira let out a gasp and bolted. "MOM! Let's go in!" she shouted, pointing toward a dark storefront with big painted letters: SECOND CHAPTER BOOKS.
"She's fast," Bucky muttered, eyes wide as she darted ahead.
I guess I never really noticed before, but… yeah. She had super soldier speed too.
He caught up to her outside the shop window, crouching beside her. "Sorry, it's closed. We can come back later when it's open." He explained in a soft tone.
He wasn't wrong, it was just past six in the morning and the city was barely starting to yawn awake.
But I wasn't in the mood to wait. I strolled up casually and picked the lock. Old store, no cameras, no alarm system, just a rusty bolt and a stubborn doorbell that jingled when I pulled it open.
"YAY!" Mira squealed, darting inside.
Bucky looked like I'd just committed treason. "That's… not okay."
"She likes books."
He ran a hand through his hair and let out a deep, tight sigh, the kind that screams what did I get myself into.
He followed us in reluctantly, glancing around like he expected the FBI to crash through the windows. Mira was already stacking books in a neat pile near the entrance, novels, picture books, even a few mythology books.
"Can she read these?" he asked, picking one of the novels up.
"Yeah. She reads more than I do," I replied, wandering through the dark aisles. I hadn't bothered turning on the lights. Better to stay invisible.
Bucky stood by the door like a sentry, arms folded, eyes locked on Mira as her pile grew.
When I wandered back toward the entrance, she had books in her arms and fifteen more at her feet.
"Mira. No. That's too many," I said flatly. "Pick three."
She froze. Her lip trembled. Then her eyes welled up like she'd just been told the world was ending. "But I want them all," she whispered, broken.
She was a mature kid most days, but books were her weakness. If anything could bring out the tears, it was denying her stories.
"You can only take three," I said again. "Pick your favorites. We'll get more another day."
Predictably, she collapsed onto the floor in dramatic despair, sobbing into her sleeves.
I leaned against a shelf, waiting her out like I always did. But Bucky… Bucky looked like he was going to faint.
He hovered awkwardly over her, eyes darting between me and her. Like he couldn't decide who needed saving more.
"She's fine," I said calmly. "Just let her cry it out."
"I'll just— I'll just buy them. It's fine," he stammered, panicked. Mira immediately perked up like a light switch had been flipped.
"No," I said firmly. "It's not about the money. It's about limits."
Her wailing resumed instantly, louder than before.
Bucky gave me a look of desperation, pleading with those glacier blue eyes. I shook my head.
He gestured toward her helplessly. I mouthed: No.
"Mira, pick three. Or I'll pick for you."
Through sniffles and soggy hiccups, she narrowed it down and pushed three books toward me, defeated.
I picked her up and passed her off to Bucky. He took her like she was a bomb he hadn't been trained to defuse.
I gathered up the three books, and nudged the door open with my foot. "Let's go."
"You going to pay for those?"
"Move your ass, Barnes."
He tossed me his wallet. "There's cash in there."
"Aw, thanks. We can get ice cream later."
He shot me a look, one of those hard, Winter Soldier glares that probably once sent people running. I grinned. "Kidding. Relax."
Oddly there was no prices on the books, so I dropped a twenty on the counter and followed them out.
We headed back to his place through the still-sleepy city. Mira whimpered the whole way, little sniffles pressed into Bucky's shoulder. His poor jacket had absorbed more tears in the last hour than in its whole existence.
But he didn't seem to mind.
And for the first time in a long time, neither of us walked alone.