dysmorphics | open post

Because there had never been a time when Bucky had his serum while Steph didn't, he thought she had never felt as small in his arms as she did that afternoon. It was a realization that hit him when she wrapped her arms around him. Still, her words and the hug did relax him a bit. He even pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Good, because I've been staying in your guest room since I got back." Legally, everything that had belonged to the other Steph had to belong to the one in his arms, right? They were the same person, just from two different points in their lives.

Plus, Bucky hadn't wanted to end up separated from her again. And yet, here they were.

But, at least he wouldn't be completely alone. Sure, a hell of a lot younger, and she didn't know most of what happened in the years since he got on a ship to England, but she was still Steph. He had loved her when he was a teenager, he loved her on the day she was pulled there from, and he loved her now.

"Just say the word and I'll take you there whenever you want, alright?"

"In my... oh, right." This was going to take a lot of getting used to. And that was on top of getting used to living in 2023. The alien invasions and time traveling might be particularly fantastical, but discovering who Stephanie Rogers had become was going to be even more so.

She pulled her arms back but didn't away from their little spot on the ground. "I could use a change of clothes," she said, glancing down at the ill-fitted suit. It looked like some kind of armor, but Bucky wasn't wearing anything like it. Neither were the men who had been around earlier.

"Where are we, anyway? This doesn't look like Brooklyn."

Unwrapping his arms from around her, Bucky let his hands rest on her shoulders as well and frowned a bit at the mention of Steph needing clothes. Yeah, that suit was definitely too big. "I'm sure she's got something we can make work for you, but the serum, uh... It made her bigger. And I'm not sure how old women's clothes measurements translate to today. I know they're different."

Wait. If the other Steph put this one in her suit, did that mean the other one was running around Brooklyn in her underwear? Because this Steph's clothes wouldn't have fit her. Dumbass.

"We're still in New York, don't worry." Bucky actually let a small grin tug at his mouth as he thought of something she might like, though, and gave her a light thump on the underside of her chin with the side of his knuckle. "If you could have anything in the world for dinner tonight without having to worry about cooking it, what would it be?" Food delivery. Sometimes he thought that was one of his favorite modern conveniences. Plus, there were hundreds--if not thousands--of restaurants of all kinds in New York now.

"Anything at all?" Steph needed a minute to answer that, having been so used to stretching a budget to make ends meet, especially after her Ma passed and the threat of war loomed closer. Needs were easy to name. Wants far less so.

She eventually settled with, "Roast beef, mashed potatoes, and... chocolate souffle?" but even then she was clearly hesitating. That particular meal combination was something she only ever had at Bucky's place for Christmas dinner, so it was a real treat by her book. Nevermind that the mashed potatoes of her time were bland and boring; she didn't know any better (yet).

"Spaghetti's fine, though," she felt compelled to add after a moment, not wanting to be a burden in case he was actually thinking of getting them food. The spaghetti she knew how to make was cheap and easy — carrots and white sauce.

"Christmas dinner, huh?" Bucky said, letting himself continue to grin at her. "I'll see what I can do. I haven't had that-" since 1942 "-in years." Bucky was aware that his family had been a bit more well off than Steph's household when they were young, but Bucky had tried to include the Rogers's as often as he could get away with. Which, looking back now that he was older, it seemed his Ma was happy to do as well. Especially once it went from Mrs. Rogers and Steph to only Steph.

Idly, Bucky wondered if his family had his feelings for his best friend figured out. They probably did.

"One of my favorite things about being in this time? You can get almost anything delivered to your door, so we don't even have to clean up for a restaurant." Once he got some new clothes for her, however, Bucky would be happy to take her out to dinner somewhere. He might not be the biggest fan of going into crowds or anything of the like, but he was pretty sure he would be a big fan of showing her the sights of 2023.

"You said anything," Steph mumbled, a little defensively. "I like Christmas dinners." She pinked at the admission, but it also made her sad a moment later. Bucky wouldn't be home for Christmas this year.

Neither would she, apparently. Which was fine since she was safe and not like, in the thick of war. Besides, it wasn't like she would be missed. Her parents were gone, her other relatives were back in Ireland and she didn't know them, and Bucky was gone. Maybe just Becca, but Becca was nice to everyone.

Getting to her feet, she almost fell right back down and flat on her face from the suit being a few sizes too large on her. (Steph's only concern was that her younger self would survive the trip through the quantum realm; Steph knew Bucky would look out for her once she made it through.)

"Really?" Though she shouldn't be surprised at the concept of delivery when time travel was possible, right? Still, that was cool. Probably expensive, but Bucky had always been better off financially.

They were interrupted by Sam and Bruce reappearing. Bruce held out his tablet to Bucky; it was some of Steph's old medical records. "These the right ones or do we have to keep looking?" This wasn't exactly a scenario they'd prepared for, but it was a known historical fact that Captain America used to be small and sickly before the serum.

Sam, meanwhile, offered his hand to Steph and reintroduced himself.

"Hey, I like Christmas dinners, too! I just haven't had one since '42!" Bucky quickly climbed to his feet as well and placed a hand on Steph's back to steady her. He never had one of those time travel type suits, but he knew the more armored suits were definitely heavier than normal clothes, and this Steph was small and unused to them.

God, was she always this small? He couldn't help noticing that. And then he remembered that, yeah, she had been. He was the one who got bigger, but beside the other Steph, it was a hell of a lot less noticeable that he'd gotten bigger since he didn't grow nearly as much. But he had definitely grown.

He kept his hand pressed to Steph's back as the guys approached, then took the tablet from Bruce with his free hand. Scanning down the list, he nodded, making sure everything (he knew of, which should be everything) was listed before handing it back. "Yeah, that should be all of it," he said, nodding as he passed the tablet back to the green guy.

Bucky only let go of Steph to take the opportunity to quickly pull his hair tie off of his metal wrist and pull his hair back out of his face while Bruce reintroduced himself to Steph, then placed his hand on her back and looked down at her once more as soon as he was done. "I'm pretty sure she's known Bruce longer, but for some reason, Sam here is one of her best friends."

Sam grinned. "Well, I do what she does, just slower."

Steph was grateful that Bucky kept his hand on her back, because she was feeling light-headed from all this. Not just the suit being heavy and weird, not just time travel and being in the future, but apparently having all these friends and a whole life and not remembering any of it. They knew so much about her, but also didn't truly know her? Were they expecting her to just... pick up what her future counterpart had left behind?

"Thanks for your help," she decided to say to these strangers who were supposed to be her friends. "Sorry, I... I don't know—" She wheezed suddenly. "Shit." She started frantically patting herself before turning to Bucky with a panicked look. "My cigarettes—" They had been in her dress pocket. "You don't happen to have...?"

"Shit, shit," Bucky muttered, giving the guys a glance as he pointed out it was her asthma, then moved to stand in front of her with his hands on her shoulders. "Shit, Steph, I don't- I stopped carrying that stuff around since you didn't need it anymore." But that would change. He would fill his backpack with nothing but medical supplies if he had to, but he was sure it wouldn't come to that.

In the background he could hear Sam questioning, "Cigarettes? For asthma?!" and Bruce seemed to turn away and get on his phone, but neither of them were important in that moment.

"I don't-" he started again, running his fingers through her hair as his mind reeled, trying desperately to remember what he'd read about how asthma was treated in recent years. Keeping an eye on news of new treatments for the ailments Steph had was an old habit that Bucky didn't quite break. "I don't think they even use those anymore. There's something else. I think an inhaler or something?"

Bruce hung up his phone and turned back to them, then, keeping his voice as calm as he could as he spoke to Steph. "Hey, it's okay. Strange is going to get an inhaler here pronto, and then he's going to look at your file and see what else you might need."

Bucky hadn't stopped touching or looking at Steph through all that, though. "See? I told you, you've got friends. You just need to meet them all again."

Edited (immediately forgot to close html wooooo) 2025-11-29 11:35 (UTC)

Was it asthma or a panic attack? Likely both, starting as one then becoming the other. Thankfully, Bucky was there. He was there, older and sadder but there, grounding her. Steph reached up to grip one of his hands on her shoulder; she was holding on so tightly her knuckles turned white, but it was probably just a tickle for him now.

She focused on him, and, after a few minutes, her chest loosened enough for her to breathe a bit more freely. The others were talking, offering assistance, to which she only nodded mutely. She didn't want to be rude, but this was all just too much.

Somehow she was guided down the platform and under the shade of a tree. Bruce offered her a chair, but she wouldn't detach herself from Bucky that they just ended up on the ground, her on his lap, her back to his chest. This was familiar. This was comforting. Closing her eyes, she could almost forget that she'd been thrown forward in time, that this Bucky wasn't the one she'd said goodbye to not too long ago. (Or well he was, in some way. Technically. Thinking about that made her head hurt, so she just didn't.)

More weird noises. More voices she didn't recognize. She tuned them out, focusing on Bucky's presence instead: his touch, his breathing, how his arms could now swallow her whole. She could probably crawl inside his shirt and no one would notice.

"Is that—"
"What do you mean Cap—"
"She's so... small."

Bucky's focus on Steph didn't waver until Strange stood beside them, for some reason wearing that stupid cape over casual clothes. But Bucky listened as he explained how the inhaler worked, then nodded and took it from him.

"Hey, punk," he started, voice soft and caring as he looked back down at her. Once he had her attention, he explained how the inhaler worked and pressed it into her hand, then brushed her hair back from her face again once she had a hold of it. "Turns out the cigs make asthma and everything else worse, and these things do a better job anyway."

Bucky would absolutely be getting a few extras of those, and he would be keeping at least one on him at all times, just like he used to keep her asthma cigarettes on him, as well as regular ones.

The inhaler wasn't overly complicated, and it worked like a charm. Steph stared at the modern medical device in her hand in amazement. "Whoa." She did feel a lot better, which apparently was the whole science of it, though she found herself missing the particular high smoking a cig gave her.

Someone had thought to bring her water, too. And a snack. Which, because they expected Steph-With-The-Serum, was a dozen burgers and buckets of fries. She picked up a burger and gawked at the portion size. "People eat this much?" asked she who ate like a bird most days, both because of her smaller stature and because food was scarce and had to last as long as possible.

She took a bite of the burger and made such a pleased noise that she blushed because it almost sounded like she was... well. "Holy shit, this is good. Buck, you gotta have some," she offered, forgetting that he'd have already made his acquaintance with modern food.

When Steph started breathing easier so quickly, Bucky felt tension drain out of him. He hadn't been sure just how fast that thing would work, but it sure seemed to do the trick.

As Steph was handed the food and a drink, Bucky took the inhaler and slid it into his pocket, then laughed a bit at her reaction. It was great to see her so excited for a minute. "Most people don't eat this much, but a bunch of us that had crazy shit happen to us do. The other you could eat a ton, and so can I. But I bet Banner over there could eat four times as much as I can."

Off to the side he could hear Bruce just say, "Hey!" but it didn't actually sound upset.

Bucky checked the side of the bag for a logo. "Oh, yeah. Their burgers are pretty good. I've had them a couple times. Lots of good milkshakes, too."

Steph tried the fries next and, God. They put their bland mashed potatoes to shame. "How are these so good?" she asked in disbelief, though because she'd stuffed her mouth, the words came out all slurred together. She was definitely going to want the recipe so she can make some for him and they don't have to eat out all the time. (It'll be a while yet before she'd ditch the frugal ways.)

Feeling a lot better after using the inhaler and getting some food, she requested Bucky to introduce her to everyone. By then a little group had gathered around, and they were all her friends in the future and part of something called the Avengers.

"What were you avenging?" she asked no one in particular, curious about the name, to which she got various answers. She glanced at Bucky and raised a brow, basically asking him for the right answer, but he was apparently not an Avenger because he just shrugged. She made a mental note to ask him for details later.

It was a surreal experience, though. She never had a lot of friends. Certainly not people who, like Bucky, would back her up or fight with her when necessary. But these people were just the sort, and apparently they'd just saved the universe (yes, universe) together and everything. And her future self had shown up in the past because she was on a mission was to tie up loose ends, or at least that was the objective before she decided to go rogue.

The strangest part was how they looked at her. There was admiration, respect, expectation. The second strangest part was how most of them just called her Cap. Even Sam who was supposed to be one of her best friends did. Only Bucky still called her Steph. But she wasn't Cap, and she was certainly no leader. She decided then that she would call Future Steph Cap, too.

The group started to talk about Avengers matters — who would be in charge now, where to rebuild their base, training the younger members, and, with a furtive look at Steph, how to send her back and if they had to launch a 'rescue'. Feeling out of her element, Steph tugged at Bucky's sleeve before getting on her toes to whisper in his ear, "Can we go now? I don't think I have anything to contribute to this meeting." She'd already told them about her encounter with Cap, and answered some questions about the time she was from, which only actually made sense to Bucky. She had none of Cap's knowledge or experience to help with the rest.

If Steph's friends noticed the fact that Bucky was even more glued to her side than usual (they did), and that he always seemed to be touching her with a tiny, almost hidden grin on his face (they did that, too), they didn't say anything about it (where Bucky and Steph could hear). Bucky answered what questions he could and was upfront when he didn't know something, but really, he wasn't one of them. Even before the thing he'd heard called The Blip, he hadn't been one of them. He barely even knew most of them.

So, when she asked if they could go, he was all for it. "Yeah, I don't really have anything for them either." With that, he placed his hand back on the small of Steph's back and began to lead her in the direction he had parked. He didn't even try to take any of the extra burgers or anything; the Avengers could have them for all he cared. Bucky quickly told Sam he was taking Steph home as he walked by, but didn't even bother with the rest of them. They were getting wrapped up with their debrief anyway.

They made it all the way to the parking lot before Bucky remembered he didn't have a helmet, but that was a problem that solved itself when he spotted a helmet sitting on one of the few other bikes nearby. He was pretty sure that the bike belonged to one of the Avengers, so he didn't mind grabbing it before leading Steph to his bike. "Just hold on to me on the drive, alright? You know I won't let anything happen to you. Do you want a hair tie before we hit the road?"

Edited 2025-11-29 22:58 (UTC)

Steph was none the wiser about the helmet, just assumed it was Bucky's and was merely set down in the wrong place or something. The offer of a hair tie was a surprise though. She didn't think he would still carry a spare for her, much like he didn't carry cigs anymore. "Yeah, if that's okay," she said, somewhat shyly, before gathering up her hair so she could tie it for the drive.

She spent the drive thinking. He was certainly bigger, since she'd been unable to fully wrap her arms around his waist. Instead of making her feel small though, she felt... safe. She had always insisted that she could take care of herself, but the truth was, she needed him. Now more than ever, with her trapped in this strange future of tall buildings and busy roads and too many people.

She held on to him a minute longer after he'd finished parking and shut off the engines. He really was here with her again. Alive, real.

During the drive, whenever Bucky had to stop at a redlight he would take one of his hands off the handlebars to let it rest on top of Steph's, only letting go when it was time for them to take off again. Lucky for Steph, he couldn't exactly get a good speed up when driving in the city. Not while he had her on the back, at least.

Once they reached Steph's building and he shut off the bike, he put his hand on top of hers again when he realized she was taking her time letting go. "You ready to go judge your future self's decorating skills?" he asked, teasing just slightly in hopes of calming her nerves a bit.

When she finally climbed off the bike he followed, then helped her out of the mystery helmet before leading her into the building and to her door, his arm around her the entire time.

Finally, he unlocked the door and led her into her own apartment, flicking on the overhead light as they stepped inside. The sun was beginning to set outside so it was starting to dim in the apartment, which would have been a bit more difficult with Steph's eye problems.

He should get her some glasses.

"Welcome home, Steph. Don't blame me if you don't like what she did with the place."

It was like stepping into a dream. The lights flickered on, revealing a space so much bigger than the rundown apartment Steph had been forced to leave behind, and, well, modern. The clutter, at least, was familiar, as was the position of the couch next to the window and the seemingly forgotten sketchpad and pencils on it.

And the pictures. There were lots of framed photographs in the living room alone. Few actually had Cap's face on it. Even fewer were the black and white pics from Steph's time. She would take a good look at each of them later. In the meantime, she padded to the couch and carefully sat down, needing a moment to rest—

The TV flickered to life as she accidentally sat down on the remote. She yelped in surprise, then stared at the screen in disbelief. "Buck, is that..." She pointed at the TV. "Like in the cinema?" But how could it fit in such a small space?

"Television," Bucky said simply, chuckling softly as he also walked to the couch. "Or just TV. There's always something playing but most of it is terrible." He had recently discovered Star Trek, though, and the idea of a utopian Earth with space travel sounded great to him. He looked at the couch between them and saw the remote sticking out from under her, so he grabbed the end of it and pulled it out to show her. "This is what turned it on." A glance at the TV then. "I have no idea what show this is."

After tossing the remote on the table, Bucky leaned down to start untying and removing his boots, then sat back up. "Bathroom's there. Your room, guest room that I've been staying in, and kitchen," he pointed towards each room as he said what it was. "I, uh. I know it's a lot. I might not have time-traveled like you did, but it was even a culture shock for me when I got free. And I didn't even remember much of what it was like before then for a while there."

He had remembered Steph though. Sort of. He knew nothing about anything, except the fact that the beautiful woman was the most important person (anything, really) in the world.

"Want me to grab you something to drink?"

It was a lot, and Steph was trying not to think about it too much. Just taking it one thing at a time. "Thank you," she said earnestly. She would've found a way to cope if she'd been flung elsewhere, but Bucky was making things so much easier. "And just water, please. Unless there's something you think I gotta try?"

While he grabbed her drink, she picked the remote back up and started flicking through the channels. She eventually settled on some animated show for children. It was mid-episode and she had no context for most of it, but she appreciated the art style and was mostly interested in it.

It was beginning to get hot in the suit though, so when he returned, she asked if she could try to look for some clothes in Cap's room. She could've gone right in but it felt like intruding. Bedrooms were such personal spaces, after all.

Bucky came back from the kitchen with a can of the older Steph's preferred sodas for each of them, as well as a glass as water in case this smaller version didn't like it. Things had a lot more sugar in them now than it used to, but then again, sugar was rationed during the war. And the Depression wasn't the best time to get things, either.

"I don't see why not. I mean, pretty sure it's all yours now. Most of it's going to be too big, but there's probably at least something you can wear around the house," he answered her as he opened the cans and set them down. "If you don't mind, I'll change into something else, too."

He didn't have a lot, but he did at least have some pajama pants and a couple henleys he could wear to sleep or relax in.

Bucky led Steph over to her bedroom before stepping into the guest room and closing the door behind him. It didn't take him long to change into the previously mentioned clothes, but one he was done he just sort of... sat on the foot of the bed for a moment, staring at two framed pictures he'd stolen from Steph's collection. One of the two of them in a field in Wakanda, a goat running into a post in the background, and the other of them goofing off together in their late teens. Steph had told him Becca gave that one to her, as well as several of the other black and white photos.

He just didn't know what to think. It was pretty obvious why Steph went back, but he wasn't so sure she thought about the current version of him in the process. How much he needed her. Maybe that was why she sent the younger version of herself here?

With a sigh, he stood up and made his way back out to the living room in socked feet, then flopped back down on the couch.

Edited 2025-11-30 18:22 (UTC)

Steph was in the bedroom for about half an hour. Picking clothes was easy; they were all too big on her, but nothing some twisting and quick stitching couldn't fix. If there had been any doubt that Cap was Steph, just older, it would've been obliterated by the fact that Cap had a sewing kit in her room, tucked in the exact same compartment Steph had hers in 1943. (They didn't have the exact same drawer, but they had the exact same taste.)

It was looking at the photos that delayed her. She lingered in particular at the framed one Cap had on her nightstand, a black and white photo of her when she was Steph's age, and Bucky. The photo was worn with age, but Steph could remember when it was taken: just about three months ago, before Bucky was first deployed. Steph had washed and pressed his uniform, and he looked so handsome when he put it on. He then insisted they get photographs, for which he tried to help with curling her hair. He was shit at it though, so she'd told him to just read to her while she finished up.

For a few minutes that felt like hours, she sat on the edge of the bed, holding the frame with one hand while pressing the fingertips of the other on the glass over Bucky's face. She would never see him again. Even if Dr. Banner and the others could figure out a way to send her back, how could she leave this Bucky now here with her, who had been cruelly abandoned by the woman he loved, who happened to be a future version of Steph?

That thought giving her a renewed resolve, she wiped away her tears, went to quickly alter some of Cap's clothes, and rejoined Bucky in the living room, wearing one of Cap's shirts as a dress.

"Sorry I took so long," she said as she made her way back to the couch. "I had to do some sewing."

Bucky was relaxed on the couch when he came back, feet propped up on the coffee table, metal arm (the sleeve of his shirt covering all but his hand) resting on the arm, and the remote in his hand as he flicked through the channels. He had just settled on a classics channel, with that show about the loud woman and her Cuban husband, since it wasn't quite Steph's time, but it was at least a hell of a lot closer.

"Nothing to apologize for," he said and shrugged as he set the remote on the end table, then looked over at her with a soft grin on his face. Shit, she looked cute as hell. "You find everything alright in there? I swear, we'll get some clothes in your size as soon as we figure out what it is."

"Yeah. I just... she wore guy clothes?" She hadn't been able to find any dresses or skirts, though there were some tank tops she'd already set aside to alter. Maybe dresses fell out of style or something. She was still going to wear them though. She liked her dresses, and her hair in curls. Which weren't in curls anymore from all the action she'd seen so far. Reminded of that, she combed her hair with her fingers self-consciously.

Then she picked up her can, took a sip, before pulling back to stare at it in disbelief. "It's sweet," she noted with surprise. "I like it. Thank you."

She scooted a little more toward the back of the couch, and just a bit closer to him. Not too much that she'd be intruding on his space, but enough for her presence to hopefully be of comfort if he needed it. "You okay? I know that was... a lot." He'd already helped her with so much today. It was her turn.

"What, like the pants? Yeah. I mean, pretty sure they're womens pants though," Bucky let his head rest against the back of the couch, but had his head turned to watch Steph. "Most women wear pants more often than not now, and she... She wasn't a fan of how men would talk about her body after she got the serum."

Sure, the serum made Steph's body stereotypically hot, but Bucky had always thought she was gorgeous, no matter if she was skinny or an hourglass. It was never based on her looks.

"Women have been wearing pants more and more over the last few decades, now a lot of people just don't give any kinds of shit who wears what anymore. Women in suits, men in skirts sometimes, pretty sure they just want people to be comfortable in their own skin." It was something that Bucky had taken note of since he wasn't comfortable in his own skin, but for a very different reason.

Actually, it was metal he wasn't comfortable in, not skin.

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