𝐎𝐍𝐄.
❝ in my unknown future's ear ❞

THE URGE TO JUMP WAS TOO STRONG.

There was something so hypnotizing about standing on the edge of the world, the weighty scale between life and death, that tantalizing temptation to fall. To feel weightless, to feel all that terrible guilt lift from her shoulders until her spine hit the ground with a vicious snap. 

Morning sky eyes danced across the forever sunset sky, purples and pinks reflecting back into her soft blues. Thick red curls rustled against her cheeks as the wind blew, the world quiet except for her breathing. She could sense someone behind her - a shadow, a looming presence, a friend. But for some reason, she could not turn.

Everything slowed down, everything went silent, like it was granting one last wish, just one last moment of peace.

"You must lose... that which you love. An everlasting exchange. A soul, for a soul."

A girl with curly red hair and morning sky eyes stared down at the bottom of the cliff that was so very far down below. It wouldn't hurt for long. That much she knew. It would be fast. A long drop, a sudden stop, and then the pain would end, that horrible wretched pain in her heart would go away and she wouldn't have lost anyone.

Finally, the girl who was always left behind would get to be the one going away.

She whispered, "Whatever it takes."

The girl slowly turned back to look at her family, wearing a small soft sort of smirk, like she had a secret, like she knew something they didn't.

The redhead who still didn't look a day over seventeen closed her morning sky eyes, spread out her arms, and then she fell.

"Let me go."

Svetlana bolts upright in bed, sweat dripping down her neck and down her chest. Blurry eyes are frozen wide and she can feel her heart beating within her fingertips and in her ears. Disoriented, she can't figure out where she is for a half a moment.

In Siberia? In the Red Room? On the run? With the Avengers? With Mama?

No... no, that cannot be right.

God knows that couldn't be right at all.

Suddenly then, the soft honking and small flicker of streetlights through the halfway parted curtains remind her of Brooklyn and Uncle Steve's apartment and safety... Almost like home, just not quite.

The girl stumbles from the bedroom, hand trailing along the wall until she can find the kitchen. The ceiling light is blinding when she flips the switch, but it distracts her for half a moment, allowing her to see nothing but light.

Then her vision clears, and she's right where she started.

Sweating, gasping, Svet fumbles over to the table and shakily pulls back a chair to collapse into.

Everything else feels so much quieter with the terrible ringing in her ears, making her softly whimper as small hands clamp on either side of her head. Her knees pull up, squeezing to her chest as she rocks forward. The insides of her ears ache, and her fists tighten and her forehead is wrinkled from the pain.

Her forehead presses against the cold tabletop, giving her the chance to cool off just slightly. A chill courses through her, making the soft hair on her arms and on her neck all stand on end.

"The nightmares again?"

Svet startles, jumping and darting up as if she's ready for another fight. When she sees it's only her father remaining cool and collected and standing in the doorway, the girl forces herself to nod a little, blue eyes cloudy with memories.

Bucky Barnes sighs from where he's been watching her. Somehow he knew she was awake; somehow he can always sense when she's in pain.

When he straightens and steps fully into the kitchen, Bucky drapes her soft yellow blanket over her shoulders. He pauses for half a beat so that he can press a kiss to the top of her head. The kiss is warm and gentle, and it fills her with peace for the few seconds it lingers. But then it's gone so quickly when he turns towards the pantry.

After a few moments of very noisy rummaging, Svet cocks her head to the side and peeks over her shoulder, "What is it you are doing, Papa?"

"Don't spoil my surprise, Sveta!"

"Sorry, sorry." She somehow manages a giggle, raising her hands in gentle surrender.

He soon returns to the table with two chocolate bars and a goofy half—smile curving his lips. Svet giggles just a little, unable to resist the way she snatches desperately for it.

Bucky snorts beside her, playfully rolling his eyes.

Svet excitedly bites her lip as her fingers fumble to open the candy bar, nearly giddy with anticipation. She can't remember the last time she had chocolate. It feels like ages! But, to be clear, that does not mean she's forgotten how much she loves it.

A chair softly scrapes against the tile as Bucky pulls it back to sit down beside her at the table. They sit in silence a while, only the sound of both of them chewing filling the air.

Finally, Bucky cuts into the quiet, voice so calm and casual it almost as if he's mentioning the weather, "You don't have to be scared anymore, Svetla. The bad things are over."

The chocolate bar gently rests back on the table, the wrapper pulled back and only half eaten. Her stomach churns and makes her feel nauseous, like she may puke all over their freshly cleaned tile floor. A trembling pale hand pulls away and Svet's eyes stay trained on the light brown table.

"How can you be certain?"

Bucky puts down his empty wrapper, flesh and metal hands folding together on the table so he can focus fully on her. He sits in silence, not pushing, being gentle, giving her room to speak when she's ready. He loves her far too much to ever push her like that. Red brows furrow in and she shudders out a breath, that burning sensation in her eyes coming back.

"How can you be certain I won't do it again?" A heavy tear slips down Svet's cheek, plopping on the tabletop, "How can we know I won't be bad again?"

"Svetlana..."

She can't look at him. Not when she talks about this.

"I suppose I want you to be angry with me, Papa. Mamulya wasn't. Not really... but I did so many bad things when you were—," her voice catches and her eyes squeeze shut, forcing more tears out, "And I wish to be punished for it. I want the punishment for what I've done—,"

"Don't." His voice is much sharper than he intends.

Jumping, the girl peeks up at him through thick lashes, wide eyes nervous.

Bucky's heart clenches at the sight, and the father forces himself to be softer, gentler, "Please, don't say that, Sveta. It was HYDRA who ingrained that into you, not me." He swallows hard, shaking his head, "The desire for pain, the need for punishment. Your body is not theirs to control, and I don't want you thinking about it. You've punished yourself enough for a lifetime. You're too good—,"

"Papa!" Svetlana groans into her hands, "I—I'm not who you think that I am!"

Her father's brows dip in and for a moment, she almost thinks he's angry, "And who do I think you are, Doll?"

Under his piercing gaze, Svet fumbles, struggling for an answer, "You think... you think I'm this great human being, this precious girl who you can be proud of, but I am not!" When he sighs and rubs his face in his hands, the girl only gets more upset, "Why don't you understand?"

"I don't understand because I can't, Lana. It's infuriating that you have the nerve to look me in the eye and say you're any less than what you are. God, I—I wish you could see how I see you."

Her voice softens, weak as she murmurs, "You're the only one who sees me that way..."

"Then so be it!" Bucky snaps back, startling both of them. He sucks in a deep breath, trying to calm himself before his face crumbles and he just blinks sadly at her. "If it's just me against the world defending you, then that's the way it's gotta be. But baby, you're worth it. Okay? You're worth it."

Her cheeks flush with a soft light pink.

The two sit in an odd silence, both realizing that they've just had their very first fight.

This makes Svetlana want to cry for half a moment. But then she realizes that a fight is something normal. Something human. And if this very first fight was about him defending her, then perhaps they're going to be all alright.

As she wipes away a tear, Svetlana chokes on a laugh, "I knew that I missed you, Papa."

Bucky snorts a little, gently running a hand down the back of her head, "Yeah, Lana, I missed you too."

The nightmares flash in her eyes, but she steels herself against it and gives a sturdy nod. Bucky's hand slips to her chin, gently tilting her head up so she'll meet his gaze. Morning blues meet his ocean ones, and he softly smiles in a way she missed so badly.

She tucks her hands between her knobby knees, "I'm still trying to be better."

His smile widens, slowly, sincerely, "Me too."

"The future hasn't been kind to you... has it?"

"Not always." Bucky pauses, darkness flickering in his eyes before he nods, "But I got you."

Svet smiles back, leaning into the space between his chest and his arm. His body moves to accommodate her, tucking her into him so he can shelter her and keep her safe just for a little while. He rests his slightly scratchy chin upon the top of her head, his thumb gently stroking circles into her arm.

"Love you, Papa," her words are slightly mumbled, lost and buried in the material of his sleep shirt.

He somehow understands anyway, "I love you, Svetka. Always."

Lips press into her hair and she lets out a quiet tired sigh, feeling the fear and anxiety and memories creep away because for now, just for this moment, she knows she is safe with him, that everyone is safe when she is with him.

They find routine.

Normal life is strange. Disjointed. Dream—like. But they try to live it. They try to let go. They try to remember it's okay. They are allowed to be alive, they are allowed to be human.

Grocery day is still Thursday but the shopping itself is hard. Who would have known that there would be so many options? Why are there so many kinds of milk? How does one choose between all the different types of chips? Even something as simplistic as laundry feels entirely foreign. Bucky has far too many white socks that are now cream after mixing them with Svetlana's large collection of yellow clothes. Sam says that neither of them should legally be allowed to cook, and eventually take—out becomes more common than not.

Thai quickly becomes Svetlana's favorite, but Bucky tends to be partial towards pizza.

Her Barton cousins insist they have a television, but they don't use it much. Most nights, they'll sit on the balcony that overlooks the skyline, simply talking and making up for lost time. There's always something to talk about, details about Bucky's time in Wakanda or some story that Svet has from during the Decimation or her time with the ex—Avengers.

Other times, they'll sit in their small living room, listening to their record player or reading or making lists about what new things about the modern world they need to experience next. Luckily, there's Sam to help them with that.

Occasionally, Sam will take Bucky out for a night on the town to a bar or something. Sam says it's important for him to get out there. To meet new people. Svet can tell Bucky hates it. She doesn't blame him; she feels the same.

Laurie will text her sometimes, which is nice, but she and Gordo live in California which feels so much farther away than she expected it to.

The father and daughter have visited the Barton farm a few times. It's nice for Bucky to get to know Clint while Svet spends time with Cooper and Lila. The kids are sweet and they all get on, but they're not really on the same wavelength as Svetlana. She's an eighteen year old past—HYDRA and KGB assassin with super soldier serum, and they're two normal pre—teens who live on a farm.

The one person who has consistently stayed her friend is Wanda, and it's a relief to have her back again. They can easily bond over shared HYDRA trauma and Eastern European culture.

Still, it's hard to relate to people.

A few weeks ago, Aunt Laura gently suggested Svetlana should start meeting new people too. At the time, Bucky couldn't help but agree. The girl has never really had "friends" before, not in the traditional sense. But then Bucky looked at Svet and saw the absolute terror on her face.

He promises they'll take it one step at a time.

Anytime the thoughts, the memories, get too much, Svet sneaks quietly into Bucky's bedroom and wakes him as she used to when she had a nightmare. Somehow, it's not quite the same now. She doesn't crawl into bed with him and he doesn't tell her a bad bedtime story to make it go away.

But they find another outlet, a way to cope together.

Soon they both have purchased running shoes and then they're out on the midnight roads with nothing but the orange streetlights to guide their path.

It's different now that she can keep pace with him. It startled him at first, and it's still taking him time to get used to it. The first time she beat him, he had to just stop and watch her run, beautiful and fast and free. It left him breathless. If nothing else, it made it absolutely clear that those days of sickly Svetlana are finally over.

Nowadays, they push it, try to race every time, just to try to feel something so Svetti can forget the pain in her head — even for a minute, even for a second.

They visit the cemetery and leave flowers because they know they should, even though she's not really there.

Svetlana's mother has a memorial. The remaining Avengers made sure of that. Nothing grand, just simple... as she would have preferred, anyway. Sometimes they'll sit on the bench that rests across from it, sometimes they won't. They have her picture in the apartment, one from those years on the run. To Svet, it doesn't feel like quite enough. Her mamulya should be here.

They should be together.

But that's another matter for another time.

They see Steve as often as they can. It's not the same though. Bucky is always quiet on the drive home, and Svet can tell it makes her papa sad. Of course, he's happy that Steve got to spend his life with the woman he had loved so much, but he misses his best friend. It's hard to lose someone else.

"Would you want to go back, Papa?" Svet asks one time, staring at him on their way back.

It surprises Bucky, making him jerk to look at her, "What?"

"To your time, Papa." Svetlana supplies softly, "The 1940s, your home in Brooklyn. Would you want to go back too?"

The thought scares her, but she forces herself to wait for an answer with a blank look on her face.

Bucky gives her a look like that's the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. Then the look morphs into uncertainty, near suspicion. He eyes her for a moment, like he's trying to figure her out, find her underlying meaning to all this.

"No, Svetka." Bucky finally responds, "I wouldn't."

He falls into a silence, but Svet stays waiting, knowing he's not done speaking yet.

"It's where I'm from, but I've... changed." His eyes grow distant, thoughtful, a little remorseful too, "I'm a different man now. That world wouldn't know me anymore."

"But what about your other family?" Svet pushes, eyes wide and worried, legs tucking beneath her, "Your own mama and papa, your sisters? What about them?"

Bucky keeps his eyes at the road, nodding simply, "I miss them. Especially now that my memories are back. And it would've been nice for them to meet my daughter." He gives her a proud smile, "They would've loved you."

Svet blushes, lifting her chin to smile back.

He turns back to the road, "But even if I did go back, I wouldn't belong there anymore. I belong in this time, as crazy as it is. With you."

Svet slowly takes his hand, holding it tight and leaving the topic alone for now. She keeps his words close to her heart, and she doesn't forget how he misses his sisters. She keeps that in mind and lets it simmer.

Bucky goes on missions with Sam. It's good to have something to do, to have a purpose again. Svetlana knows that her father feels worthwhile when he's out there fighting for what's right. He's good at it too, even better than he was at being a soldier for HYDRA.

He constantly offers to stay home more, to be there all the time until she is certain she feels herself again. She turns him down every time, makes up a story about how being alone is healing. Which isn't exactly a lie, after all, sometimes it is. Besides, she imagines that she isn't the only one that has to find a purpose, and Bucky needs to heal too.

Life keeps moving.

It's Sam that brings them the dog. A sort of "therapy dog", he calls it. Ever the counselor, Sam thinks it will be a good idea for Svetlana and Bucky both.

"Oh God," is all Bucky says when Sam shows up at their front door with the crate in hand and a villainous smirk on his face.

He knew it was a mistake to give the man their home address.

Svetlana practically shrieks at the sight of the dog, making Bucky cringe and Sam's smirk widen. If looks could kill, Bucky would've had Sam six feet under by now.

The girl hurriedly slips around her father and takes the crate from her uncle, setting it on the floor before carefully unlatching the small door.

She's on her hands and knees when a pup bounds out of the crate. It's a gangly looking mutt, all skin and bones with soft loose curls of brown fur, wide eyes that don't look the same direction, and a tongue that hangs out sideways.

So, naturally, Svet adores him.

The girl giggles and her lashes flutter as the mutt licks her pink cheeks and sniffs at her yellow sweater.

Bucky just gives a sigh, watching with a grimace as she dotes on the little thing.

"Uncle Sam, where did you find him?!" She manages through her laughter, "Is he yours?"

"I adopted him from a shelter. In your name." Sam's eyes sparkle with mischief, "He's all yours now, Slugger."

Svetlana gasps, falling back on her haunches, "Is this for the real? You did this for me?"

Sam's smirk turns into a soft sincere smile, "Yeah, Slugger, it's for real. I thought it'd help you, being able to help take care of something. Plus, I wanted to tick off your dad."

Bucky shoots him a glare, "I hate you."

"I'll live." Sam chortles.

Bucky can't help but feel resistant towards the idea of a dog. Back in the 30's when it was just him and Stevie planning to take the world by storm, this is what the old Bucky had pictured when he thought of his future; a house, a family, a dog.

Now, he's not so sure. Bucky's already got everything he needs, and that is and has always been Svetlana. But for right now, they're barely used to taking care of themselves in the real world, adding something else to the equation might be just too much.

"Papa!" Svet grins back at him, eyes wide with wonder, reminding him of that little girl he took on the run, "We can keep him, yes? Look, he's even giving me kisses!"

And Bucky knows there's no going back.

"Fine." Her father grouses with a sigh, "But I'm not picking the name."

Svet beams, laughing when the dog gives her another kiss.

Over the course of the next few days, the girl finds being the one to pick the name is an absolutely fascinating experience. She's never named anything before! She isn't sure what to do with all this power!

Svetlana switches the poor dog's name sixteen different times within the first week, unable to settle upon anything that really suits. The options range from various Russian names to the more traditional ones of American culture. Poor Bucky tries to keep up, but just when he gets used to calling the dog the newest appointed name, Lana has already changed it again.

Bucky realizes he ought to have a talk with Svet about it; he realizes he should tell her that it's probably not very nice to their already rather ditzy dog to keep switching names on him. But then he remembers that Svet's never had this experience to be so normal before and he just can't get himself to take the fun of it away from her.

They finally settle on his name one day in the middle of eating lunch. Sam is visiting again, much to Bucky's grumbling discontent. They're all sitting at the kitchen table and Svet's not really listening to their conversation, thinking about how she can convince Bucky to let her drive their car again when she suddenly stops midway through her third sandwich.

Then, with eyes wide and mouth full, she says, "His name's Sandwich."

Bucky and Sam stop from where they've been discussing the details of their next mission to stare at her.

Bucky swallows, head tilting, "What'd you say, Lana?"

Right. Don't talk with your mouth full. Lana follows his lead, trying to remember the manners he's been trying to teach her.

Once she's certain she's swallowed, she smiles and proudly nods, "Our dog. His name is Sandwich."

Sam quirks an eyebrow, "So, what number is this? Name #18?"

"No." She looks offended, "It's #17."

Sam laughs and Bucky smiles, "Sandwich, huh?"

Svetlana quickly nods, tucking her hands under her thighs, "It is official. His final name's Sandwich."

They all turn to where the mutt is now laying on his back, having just slammed head first into the wall for no apparent reason. The dog doesn't seem to mind though; he's busy sniffing the air and munching on half of the sandwich he not so slyly stole from Sam.

Bucky's smile widens, and his eyes glint with amusement, "It suits."

So it's decided. Bucky, Svetlana, Sam, and Sandwich; their ragtag team.

Bucky acts grumpy towards the idea of a dog but when Svet catches him on the floor playing tug—of—war with Sandwich, she knows he loves him too.

The weekends come fast and seem to last forever because that's usually when some mission or another comes up. But, as per tradition, Bucky makes his girl breakfast every Friday morning. Even though he probably shouldn't.

Bucky currently stands over the stovetop, his flesh hand furiously waving back and forth to blow away the smoke rising from the frying pan. He accidentally inhales the thick grey smoke and then ends up in a coughing fit, shaking his head at himself. Disregarding the disaster that is occuring behind her, Svet's arms are stretched over her head as she tries to braid her hair, gnawing on her bottom lip with her nose scrunched.

"So, five or six eggs?" Bucky glances over his shoulder and then stops when he sees the equally disastrous situation going on behind him.

The father heaves a sigh from where he's about to crack more eggs, moving across the kitchen so he can gently bump her hands out of the way. She beams when he takes over managing the mess that is her hair. Her beam quickly turns into a wince, however. She sits on her knees and painfully squints as he pulls and tugs, desperately trying to tuck in every stray strand and loose curl.

"Alright, done." A few moments later, Bucky steps back to admire his handiwork, settling his hands on his hips, "You like it?"

Svet lifts up on her knees, peering at her reflection in the window. Her red hair looks more like a bird's nest than much else. The teen's eyes widen and she quite literally wrestles with the muscles in her mouth to form a smile.

"I—I love it!" She eagerly nods up at him, "You did... so amazingly, Papa!"

Bucky's eyes squint just a little before he grins just the same, turning away to finish cooking her breakfast. As soon as his back is turned, Svet blows a thick stray curl from her eyes and smiles fondly after him. He's tried his best.

Her cellular device suddenly vibrates on the table, and she smiles when she sees who it is, quickly typing a response. She's just about to put it to sleep again when her gaze catches on one of the few numbers in her phone, thumb gently tapping against the side of the device in deep thought.

It would be so easy to call. Or simply text.

Svetlana studies the ten digits displayed in small white text on her screen. The ten digits don't seem like enough; they don't seem like enough to shoulder the weight and the honor of the name that rests above it: Parker, Peter.

The girl just sighs, rolling her eyes and flopping back into her chair.

As she watches the ceiling fan spin around and around, she feels... ridiculous. How strange is it to feel so much for someone you've only talked to twice and then only ever seen in photos since? Sometimes she feels as if she's just imagined it all; she's just spent far too much time dreaming up a world where they could be together that she has lost all sense of reality when it came to him.

But then Peter gave her his number.

She can still remember the intoxicating buzz that came after he shyly walked away, steps short and head ducked low between his shoulders. She felt that thrill for hours after. Her blood rushed to her head and every part of her tingled, even when she and Bucky returned to the apartment and she tried to go to sleep that night.

Of course she then realized that she would need something to actually call him on.

Cellular devices are hard to use, Svetlana quickly decided. It ended up being a gift from Uncle Clint, and she was grateful, of course... but that didn't make it any less confusing. She tries hard to understand the fascination with them, but even with the help of Lila and Cooper, she can't quite seem to grasp it.

Her papa hasn't been much help either. As fascinated as he tends to be with new inventions of the future, he hates cellular devices as much as she does.

When someone knocks on the door, Bucky excuses himself to answer. The moment she hears Sam's voice echoing through the apartment, her smile is instinctual. She throws herself off the chair and sprints out of the kitchen, her knee—high socks letting her gracefully glide into the living room where the two have congregated.

"Uncle Sam!" Svetlana cheers, throwing herself at the man before he can even begin preparing to catch her.

She almost takes them both down, bumping him into the table and knocking over a lamp that Bucky barely manages to catch. Sandwich is barking wildly around their ankles, and they try to ignore how he tromps all over their toes.

Sam keeps an arm on her shoulder when they pull apart, "Hey there Slugger, what's good?"

"Me." Svet answers simply, totally not understanding the question.

Bucky smirks and Sam just laughs, "Glad to hear it, kiddo. Got any big plans this weekend?"

The phone in her back pocket feels on fire and she forces an innocent careless shrug, "Um... I do not think so."

If they catch the strangeness of her tone, they don't question it. Then again, she doesn't give them a lot of time to. Svet quickly changes the subject, feeling awkward with this line of questioning.

"Are you both going on a mission now?"

"Yeah, sorry Darlin', can I have a raincheck on the eggs?"

Svetlana nods very seriously, "Raincheck accepted."

"We're chasing down a new lead, but we should be back by Sunday night."

She wears a smile, but Bucky sees right through it. Her father sighs a subtle sound, hands finding either side of her face.

"Lana, you can come with us as soon as you feel ready. Da?"

"Da, Papa."

He softly cups her cheeks and presses a kiss to her forehead. She leans in, breathing in the scent of him, the smell of their fuzzy pumpkin hand soap and Svet's coconut shampoo he swears he isn't using. Mostly he just smells like her papa, like home. Or almost.

"We'll order in when I get back, okay?" Bucky pulls on his boots, "Anything you want."

Her brows raise in hope, "Anything I want?"

"Thai it is, then." Bucky chuckles.

Svet shakes her fists in victory, and Sam snorts.

Then the girl suddenly gasps with wide eyes, as if the most fantastic idea just came to her, "And Uncle Sam will join us also!"

"I don't mind if I do." The man casually slips his hands in his pockets, looking cheery.

Bucky groans, "Come on, Lana, you sure you really want Birdbrain over for dinner?"

She eagerly nods, teetering back and forth on her toes, "Oh yes. I like Birdbrain."

Sam just scoffs in pretend offense, "You're both terrible human beings." He pauses and then shrugs, "But if there's gonna be food, I'm in."

"As long as you don't start thinking I like you, Wilson."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Barnes."

"Perfect!" The girl quickly claps, "Friends and Thai!"

Buck just heaves a long—suffering sigh before he glances back at Svetlana, "Are you sure you'll be alright here alone?"

"Oh..." Svet blushes, "I forgot to mention, Papa... I'm not going to be alone today." 

Bucky pauses pulling on his jacket, eyes growing concerned, "What are you—?"

Just then the doorbell rings and Svetlana jumps from her spot, yelling, "I'll get it!"

But it is far too late because Bucky is already at the door, and when he pulls it open, he freezes at who he sees standing there.

"Morning James."

Natasha Romanoff leans in the doorway, pink bubblegum popping between her lips as she smirks.

"Miss me?"

━━━━━━ annie speaks ━━━━━━

oh my gooooood, let's do this thing. au family storyline here we go.