Chapter Text
The next day, the compound felt lighter. For once, laughter filled the kitchen instead of briefing chatter or mission reports. Keira stood at the counter, a dusting of flour on her cheek and a glass of wine in hand. Wanda sat beside her, sipping from her own glass, while Peter was perched up on the counter beside the mixing bowl, sneakily trying to eat the raw cookie dough.
"Peter!" Keira laughed, swatting at his hand. "You're going to eat it all and get sick."
He grinned, licking his finger unapologetically. "Worth it. You're like... the Michelangelo of cookies."
"Please," Wanda teased, "More like Picasso. That batch looks like it melted in the oven."
Keira gasped in mock outrage. "I'll have you know these are artisan cookies. Deconstructed, experimental... whatever the word is."
They all laughed, and Wanda topped off their glasses. "We deserve this," she declared. "It's the afternoon, it's peaceful, and for once, no one's trying to destroy the world. Cheers to that."
"Cheers!" Peter and Keira echoed, clinking their glasses together.
The smell of freshly baked cookies filled the kitchen, warm, sweet and comforting. It was one of those moments that made Keira forget about the weight in her chest, the holes in her memory, and the ache that still lingered whenever she looked at a certain someone. For a few minutes, it was just the three of them, laughing, drinking wine, and stealing bites of gooey cookie dough when the other two weren't looking. It felt like a stolen moment, a few hours untethered from their complicated lives, where everything was easy.
Keira leaned back against the counter, closing her eyes when a breeze drifted through the open window. It was nice. She didn't want to move. She didn't want to think. She just wanted it to feel like this forever. The elevator dinged before the doors opened and Bucky stepped inside. He stood silently for a moment, watching the three of them laugh and tease each other. Something in his chest ached, sharp and sudden at the sight of her smiling.
Wanda noticed him first, and Keira's head whipped around. "Bucky," she said softly, a smile tugging at her lips before she could stop it.
He pushed off the doorframe and walked over, that familiar, calm confidence in his stride. "What's all this?"
"Baking therapy," Wanda said, grabbing her wine. "And Peter's learning self control."
Peter snorted, eating more cookie dough. "Failing self control."
Bucky's eyes never left Keira. "Looks like you're enjoying yourself," he murmured.
Her heart fluttered at the way he said it, like seeing her happy was something rare and precious. She reached for the cooling rack and handed him a cookie. "Try it."
He took it from her, his fingers brushing hers briefly before biting into the cookie. His eyes closed when the warmth and sweetness melted on his tongue. God, it tasted incredible. Not just because it was a good cookie, but because she had made it. For a second, he allowed himself to savour the feeling. The domesticity of it all. When his eyes opened again, she was watching him, waiting for his reaction.
"Good?" she asked.
"You always did make good cookies," he said quietly, his gaze holding hers.
A shiver ran down her spine at the intensity in his eyes, the way he said it, the way he said anything...his voice was becoming an addiction, one she could happily listen to all day. It was like a punch to the gut, making her feel both homesick and lost all at once. She swallowed, stepping back as Wanda refilled her glass again, she took a big sip and hoped it would steady the pounding in her chest.
When Keira turned to look at him again, he was still watching. The smile that had just started to bloom on her face faltered. Because over Bucky's shoulder, she saw him. Tony. And beside him...Her mother.
The world narrowed to a single point. Her mother looked tired, but beautiful. Tall, elegant, with dark hair and familiar green eyes, her eyes. Tears filled them now as she took in her daughter.
Keira froze. "Mom?" she whispered.
Her mother smiled nervously, clutching her purse. "Hi, sweetheart."
The room fell silent. Wanda's laughter died, Peter went still, and even Bucky's shoulders tensed.
"We need to talk," her mother said.
Wanda was the first to move. "Come on, Peter," she murmured, tugging him toward the door. "Let's, um... take these to the rec room."
Peter hesitated, glancing back at Keira before following Wanda.
Tony stayed, arms crossed. Bucky started to move towards the door, but Keira's voice stopped him. "Please... stay."
He nodded silently and leaned against the counter, staying close but giving her space.
They all moved into the living room. Keira sat opposite her mother, Tony in a chair beside them, Bucky against the wall behind her, remaining watchful. Her mother took a shuddering breath, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife.
Maria's eyes flicked between them. "I see you're both still together?"
Keira let out a sharp laugh, full of disbelief. "That's none of your business."
"Keira, I didn't come here to fight," her mother said softly. "I just -"
"What do you want?" Keira cut in, voice trembling.
She stood abruptly and grabbed her purse. "Is this what you came for?" Keira emptied it, the few notes she had, falling into her mother's lap. "Then take it," Keira hissed, walking away.
"Wait!" Maria said quickly. "Please, just sit down."
Keira scoffed but did as she asked, arms crossed tightly as she sat opposite her again.
Her mother didn't react, just looked down at her lap, shaking her head. "I know about your father's death," Maria said quietly.
Keira's throat went dry. "Yeah. What about it?"
Bucky could practically see the thoughts racing through Tony's head as they shared a look and for once he and Tony were in complete agreement. Maria Watson should have stayed gone.
"Did he... leave you anything?"
Tony's jaw tensed, but Bucky moved first, pushing off the wall and taking a seat next to Keira. His voice was calm, but there was steel in it. "Keira doesn't have any money in an inheritance if that's what you're after and even if she did, she doesn't owe you a damn thing."
Maria shook her head. "I'm not asking for money. I'm asking if he gave you anything at all that...might have meant something!"
Keira frowned. "He left me a letter. Not that I expected much."
Maria exhaled shakily. "I take it you haven't read it yet, then..."
Keira's eyes narrowed. "Why does that matter to you?"
Her mother hesitated before looking up, eyes glistening. "Because there's something you don't know. About your father. About me."
The silence grew thick. Tony said nothing, but his eyes were sharp. Bucky didn't move. He clenched his jaw tight, fighting the urge to snap at her, he didn't trust her, she had never been there for Keira. The amount of times he had held her while she told him stories of neglect and trauma. She had poured her heart out to him several times and he vowed for her to never feel that way again, not ever.
"When I was younger," Maria began, "I was with someone... he was not a good man. Controlling. Violent. I ended up in the hospital on several occasions. That's how I met your father, he was a nurse. Kind. Patient. He helped me through it."
That made Keira pause. "He was a nurse?"
Maria nodded, smiling faintly. "He was the most caring man I'd ever met. We started talking and he made me laugh again. He listened to me. After awhile...I thought, god, this must be what it's like to be happy. And I fell in love. I left my boyfriend and your father and I, we got married."
She looked down at her hands. "For a while, it was good. We were happy."
Maria went silent for a moment before continuing. "He saved me. But he couldn't save himself."
Bucky's voice was low, steady. "Why did he leave?"
Maria's jaw tightened. "He was unhappy. Turned to drugs. Met someone else. Then... well, you know the rest."
"Bullshit," Bucky snapped before he could stop himself.
"Barnes," Tony warned sharply.
But Bucky didn't stop. His voice rose, raw and fierce. "No. I'm not letting her off the hook," he growled.
"You and her father let her down when she needed you the most. You should've been there, both of you," he shouted, making Maria quiver a little. "You should've protected her, helped her when she lost her memories instead of vanishing. You had a chance to do right by her and you didn't."
Maria's eyes narrowed into a glare, just as fierce. "You don't know me. You don't get to tell me how to parent my own daughter," she snapped.
"Parent?" Bucky's voice cracked like a whip. "You don't even know what that word means."
Tony straightened in his chair now, watching them both carefully. Bucky didn't care. His shoulders tensed. He'd never wanted to strangle someone more than he did right then. Especially when she started again.
"My husband was an addict. He was sick in a way I couldn't fix. I didn't have the resources to keep Keira safe."
Bucky scoffed and shook his head.
"Enough, Barnes," Tony cut in, but Bucky didn't move. His fury simmered, restrained only by Keira's soft voice.
"Bucky, it's okay," she murmured.
"No, it's not." His glare burned into her mother. "She needs to hear it," he said, rising from his seat but Maria's gaze didn't follow. "You have no idea how much your mind games and silence have hurt her over the years. Do you know how many nights she cried for you? How much she prayed you'd just... notice her, love her?"
Maria lifted her head to finally look at him, her voice was thick and composed, "You don't get to come in here, Soldier and lecture me about Keira or what she's been through. I'm her mother. She is my daughter. I..."
Maria's expression flickered. She looked away, just for a second, but it was enough for Bucky to see. For a split second, there was guilt. Shame.
Bucky's voice softened, but stayed sharp. "You want to know something?" he started, sitting back down next to Keira who looked like a scared little animal. "She'd forgive you. Even after everything. That's how big her heart is. But if you really love her, then for once in your damn life, tell her the truth."
Keira's breath hitched. No one had ever defended her like that before. She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently, his eyes rested on hers, giving hers a gentle squeeze back.
Maria stiffened, looking down at their joined hands. The muscle in her jaw ticked. She closed her eyes briefly before her tears finally spilled over.
"You're right. I wasn't there. I was scared, Keira. But you're right," she sniffled. "I don't know how much or... what you've been through. And I know I haven't been there for you, but I was scared."
Keira blinked back tears of her own, trying to keep strong and focus on Bucky's grip.
"I'm a terrible mother," she whispered. "I always have been. I wasn't ready for any of it. I had no one. I struggled. I thought I was doing my best, but I... I didn't. I failed you."
"She's the best thing that ever happened to you," Tony said sharply. "If you're here to hurt her again, you can leave right now."
Her mother looked down, tears spilling freely now. "I was in rehab when you were in the hospital," she said quietly. "I've only been out a couple of weeks days. I'm going back soon though because...I can't keep my life together, Keira. Not without falling apart again."
Keira said nothing, her face blank, but her hands trembling, tears still threatening to fall but she didn't let them.
"I didn't think you'd want to see me," her mother continued. "So I stayed away. But before I go back, there's something you deserve to know. Something I should've told you a long time ago."
Keira's stomach twisted. "What is it?"
Maria hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. "When I met your father... I was already pregnant."
Keira froze. "What do you mean? I have a sib-"
"I was pregnant with you."
The words hit like a gunshot. Keira felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her. Her breath caught, sharp and ragged as she stared at her mother.
"What?" Her voice came out smaller than she intended, trembling with something raw and vulnerable.
Bucky stiffened beside her, his grip tightening on her hand like an anchor before he could stop himself.
Maria swallowed hard, twisting the tissue between her fingers into shreds as she forced herself to continue. "Your father... wasn't your biological father."
Keira let go of Bucky's hand as she stood up abruptly, shaking her head. "You're lying."
"I'm sorry, Keira," Maria whispered, sobbing now. "You want to know why he left? It's because you were never his."
The world spun around them, everything tilting off balance with the weight of that confession.No.No, this wasn't happening. This wasn't real. It was a nightmare she was going to wake up from.Her mother couldn't be telling her this. Her mother wouldn't.
A strangled sound tore out of Keira. She stumbled back two steps, almost falling. The world tilted. Keira stumbled back, barely catching herself before Bucky's arms wrapped around her.
"No... you're lying." She turned away, tears streaming down her face. "Get her out of here," her eyes on Tony, begging him to do as she asked.
"Keira, please don't walk away!"
Tony moved immediately, guiding Maria to the door. Her mother reached out, but Keira stepped back like the touch would burn her.
"Please, just... go."
Tony gently guided her mother towards the elevator, not saying a word.The doors shut behind them, but Keira barely registered it.
Everything was falling apart. What she thought, who she was... it was all a lie. It was all wrong. She wanted to hit something. To scream. To punch her fists into the wall until her knuckles split.
Bucky felt her shaking, every muscle in her body coiled tight like she was one breath away from shattering. His heart ached for her, ached to hold her. But she was pulling back from him like she couldn't stand the thought of him touching her. He'd never felt more helpless.
"Keira -" But she walked past him, her arms wrapped around herself.
He watched her disappear up the stairs, every muscle in his body tense. When the door to her room closed, he swore under his breath. He went directly towards the bar and made himself something strong. He downed it straight away and breathed deeply, feeling too much all at once. Anger, pain and confusion and god, a part of him wanted to break something too. To hit something, hard. This was not what Keira needed right now.
His fist clenched at his side, wanting so badly to break her door down and tell her everything would be okay. To hold her until she felt safe again. He knew it was for the best though, she needed time, space, to process. She needed to be alone. But the thought of her curled up in her room, in pain and hurting all by herself... it made the room feel like it was spinning. Like he was going to be sick.
He gave her a few more minutes until he couldn't wait any longer.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Keira sat cross-legged on the bed, the letter from her father trembling slightly in her hands. The paper was yellowed, the ink faded, the handwriting slanted and rushed, desperate, like a man trying to make peace with ghosts that had haunted him for too long.
Keira,
I don't know where to begin. Maybe with the only thing that ever mattered, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed a father. The truth is, I wasn't happy. Your mother and I were both broken in different ways, and instead of fixing it, we dragged each other down. I lost my job, turned to drugs, and became someone I didn't even recognize.
You were just a little girl. You didn't deserve to see the worst of us, so I ran. Cowardly, I know. By the time I got my head straight, it was too late. You had grown up without me, and I didn't think I had the right to come back.
There's something else... something I should've told you a long time ago. I wasn't your father by blood. But I loved you like you were mine, maybe more than I ever should've allowed myself to. You were better off without me, Keira. You always were.
I hope you find peace. I hope you find love, the kind that makes life worth fighting for. Go after it, because life's too damn short, and if you wait too long, regret will eat you alive. I should know.
Be happy, kid.
– M.
Her throat burned as she finished reading. She stared at the last line until it blurred. He hadn't even signed his full name, just M. Like even in the end, he didn't think he had the right to be called dad. Keira should have been angry, furious even, but all she felt was a deep, hollow ache. An old wound splitting open again.
Tears welled, the words swimming before her eyes. He was gone now, for good this time and there would never be another chance to say all the things they both should have said years ago. Regret settled heavy in her stomach.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
Bucky hesitated outside before finally knocking gently on her door.
"Hey," he murmured when he opened it slightly, taking in her pale, broken face. "You okay?"
Keira let out a shaky breath and shook her head silently, because no, she wasn't okay. Not right now. But maybe one day soon... she would be. She didn't answer. The silence stretched between them, heavy and fragile. Then she stood, walked toward him and before he could speak again.
With trembling fingers, she grabbed his shirt collar. Her hand slid behind his neck, pulling him down. The kiss that followed was fierce, desperate, tasting of salt and sorrow. She kissed him like she needed him to breathe.
Bucky froze for half a second, caught off guard by her intensity, but when she deepened the kiss, pulling him closer, he forgot how to breathe altogether. His hands fisted in her hair, rough, hungry and he kissed her back just as hard.
He would've forgotten the rest of the world if he could. Her skin was soft and burning, her heart thudding against his chest like it was about to burst out of her. She was just how he remembered.
When he finally managed to tear away, they were both breathing heavily, eyes wild. "Keira..." he whispered against her lips, voice rough. "Hey, look at me."
She shook her head, trying to kiss him again, but he caught her wrists and held them gently between their chests. "I want this," he said, eyes locked on hers. "More than you can imagine. But not like this. Not when you're hurting."
She stared at him, chest heaving, her silence breaking apart in small breaths as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. Keira opened her mouth to argue, but his fingers tightened gently around her wrists, keeping her still. His gaze was unflinching, his expression almost stern.
"Not like this," he repeated quietly. "I won't be the one you fall into bed with to forget, okay? I'm not that guy. Not even for you."
The words hit her like a wave. And as soon as his grip relaxed, she stepped back, dizzy from the distance suddenly between them. She knew he was right. She wanted him. God, she wanted him, but he was right, not like this. She let out a shaky breath, running a trembling hand through her hair.
Her eyes flickered up to meet his again. "I'm sorry..."
"I know," he murmured, taking her in his arms again, forehead pressed to hers. "But if we do this now, you'll wake up tomorrow and hate yourself for it. You deserve more than a distraction, sweetheart. You deserve something real."
Every inch of her body ached to deny it. To pull him closer again until she was drunk on the taste of his skin. But his words were too real, too raw. Somehow, even in her worst moments, he was still protecting her. Still putting her first. He was right though. If she did this now, she'd hate herself in the morning, they still had so much to talk about. Bucky deserved better than that.
Keira had to admire him though, most men would have jumped at the chance to get back with an ex they've been chasing after but, Bucky was different. If anything, she realised just how lucky she had been to have him, to have him now. No wonder she had loved him once upon a time. He was a true gentleman.
Slowly, Keira reached up to touch his cheek, tracing her thumb over his cheekbone. He watched her silently, his expression unreadable. The tears came harder now, silent and heavy. He pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her as if he could shield her from the world. She cried into his chest, but he didn't say a word. Just held her, one hand stroking her hair in slow, steady motions until her sobs began to fade. His eyes found the opened letter on her bed and suddenly her behaviour made more sense now.
Keira wasn't sure how long they stood there, lost in the silent comfort of each other's embrace. The soft sound of his breath against her ear, the steady beat of his heart. She felt safe in a way she hadn't in what felt like ages.
After a while, when her breathing evened out and her body grew heavier against him, he scooped her up effortlessly. He laid her down onto her bed, brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, and covered her with the blanket.
Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Sleep, doll," he whispered. "I've got you."
His touch was so gentle, so tender, it almost broke her heart again. Her fingers caught his wrist weakly.
"Stay," she whispered, her voice soft and trembling.
His eyes flickered to hers, searching. "Keira..." he murmured, but she tightened her grip, pulling him closer.
"Please," she whispered. "Just for a while."
He hesitated for a moment, the rational part of him urging him to walk away, to not to let himself get carried away. But then he looked at her, vulnerable and tired and beautiful. How was he supposed to say no to her when she looked at him like that?
"Scoot over, doll," he murmured, sliding onto the bed beside her. He shifted her onto her side, pulling her against him.
She wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face into the crook of his neck. His chest was solid against her cheek, his heartbeat steady. He smelled like soap and something so purely him, it was dizzying. She could feel the tension in his body slowly unravelling, his hands running over her back in slow, soothing circles.
Bucky stayed silent, his fingers tracing patterns along her spine, as if he were mapping out every vertebrae. He could feel the rise and fall of her chest in time with his own, the press of her body against his. He'd almost forgotten what this felt like, holding her like this, having her close, something in him finally feeling whole again.
The weight of her in his arms was both familiar and heart breaking at the same time. This used to be his everyday; Keira curled against him, her head tucked under his chin, her breath warm on his skin. He'd missed it so much he almost didn't know what to do with himself. His fingers traced small circles into her hip, his gaze on the ceiling. His chest ached with a thousand unspoken words.
"Bucky?"
Keira tilted her head up slightly, her breath warm against his throat. Her fingers toyed with his dog tags absently as she hesitated before speaking again.
"Thank you..." She swallowed hard. "Thank you, for fighting my corner. It meant a lot."
Bucky's hand stilled on her back for half a second before continuing its slow path along her hips, like he needed to touch her to just remind himself this was real.A shiver went through him at her words. He tightened his arms, pulled her flush against him like he was trying to get closer.
"You never have to thank me for that, doll. Nobody will ever treat you like that again, even if you never love me again. I'll always protect you, Keira." The words came out rougher than he meant, thick with unspoken feelings.
Keira's breath hitched at the intensity in his voice, at the way his fingers clenched against her hip, like the thought of something happening to her was physically painful. She knew he meant it, that he would do anything to keep her safe. It scared her how much that knowledge made her feel safe too, how much it made her want him all over again, even if she didn't remember wanting him before. She wanted him now.
Bucky's fingers flexed against her hip again, the movement almost involuntary. He could feel her breath against his throat, hear the faint tremble in her every exhale. He had to force himself not to pull her tighter against him.
There were so many things he wanted to say to her, so many memories he wanted to share with her again. He wanted to pin her underneath him and remind her of how much he used to make her scream out his name. But he swallowed them all down, knowing they weren't meant for right now, and instead focused on the feel of her body, warm and alive and here, against his own.
They lay in silence, their breaths falling into synchrony. Bucky traced invisible lines along her spine, slow, soothing motions that felt so familiar, yet somehow new. He could feel the tension in her muscles easing, her body sinking into his as her breathing grew heavier with sleep.
He felt himself relaxing too, finally able to just...be. Not the Winter Soldier, not a weapon, just Bucky. Just the man who used to love the girl in his arms more than anything. He stayed a while longer until he reluctantly removed his hands and got up from the bed, leaving her to sleep.
Bucky's hand lingered on her shoulder, reluctant to leave her. He wanted to stay, hold her all night and wake up to her in his arms. But he knew she needed space to process everything that had happened, and he didn't want to make things more complicated. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
"Sweet dreams, doll," he murmured, his voice rough with a million unspoken emotions.