Hi, different nonnie to the one asking about post night war fic, but I can't wait for the one with Teddy. I love the way you've written Bucky's sibling relationships and his protectiveness of them. Do you have any Barnes family centric fic recs? Could be pre or post war thanks!
Aw, thank you, nonnie, that really means a lot to me. I never expected to completely fall as head-over-heels for my OCs as I ended up doing throughout the course of writing this fic, and the idea that you and other readers are connecting with them too is so gratifying – you have no idea!
Barnes Family Fic Recommendations, Part 1/?
My Ghosts Are Six Feet Under by @what-alchemy.
Steve showed up on Becca’s doorstep a month after the invasion in New York, larger than life and trying to hide it.
With that, Becca plopped the ball of dough onto the flour-dusted counter, wiped her hands on the rag, and crossed her arms over her chest as she fixed Steve with her best grandkid-wrangling glare. He slouched over to her, eyes downcast and properly chastised.
“I don’t remember how,” he said quietly.
“Just push it out with the heels of your hands,” Becca said. “Fold and start over. Fold and start over.”
This fic does a great job at establishing a realistic sibling relationship between Becca and Steve & Bucky, while still characterizing Becca as an obviously old woman with a lot of life experience.
The serum straightened Steve’s crooked back, healed his weak lungs, and brought new color to his vision, and sometimes Bucky wonders what else it could do. Maybe the secret of Steve’s desire for Bucky was imprinted on his genetic code, and like every other imperfection stamped there, Erskine’s formula wiped it out. It would explain why Steve no longer looks at him with quiet longing, and Bucky almost hopes that the experimentations of a mad scientist are to blame. Because the alternative is too painful to consider, that Steve simply stopped wanting Bucky of his own accord.
@southsidestory is at her absolute best in this WIP. She has put together one of the most inventive and daring interpretations of the Barnes family in all of Cap fandom, in my opinion. Note: it’s not necessarily a happy one, but well worth reading.
It is 1970, and ten minutes and however many blocks ago, Rebecca Barnes looked across the street and out of the corner of her eye, saw a man ascending from the U-Bahn and set off down the street. He had on a dark coat and he walked with a deep, heavy weight to his gait, a swagger with no joy in it, and for all that he walked with his head down, she saw enough to be sure, in that moment so completely dead certain, that he wore her brother’s face.
The trouble is, James Buchanan Barnes has been dead for twenty-six years.
I really enjoy stories that imagine the effect Bucky might had had on history, and on his family members. This fic does a lovely job of that.
“Becky, can I come home?”
Every Sunday she could, the ninety-year-old Becky Barnes went to the Brooklyn Promenade to people-watch. Only this Sunday, she saw a ghost.
“I…tried to find our place, Becks. I got lost. I got lost.” He looked young, but the confusion reminded her of the very old. “I tried to go home, and…”
“It’s changed, but I’m still in our old apartment,” she said, hopefully reassuring. Or maybe not. Maybe there was nothing comforting she could say to him. The last letter he wrote her from the war, he signed it as he’d signed all his letters: I’ll try and be home soon. He’d tried.
Love this vision of Becca, and I really like the way the author wrote Early!Recovery!Bucky. Again, it reminds you of all that Bucky missed, and all that Becca lost.
Demobilization by @743ish and sallysparrow017
When the Statue of Liberty slides into view, the whole ship roars. It’s deafening. Bucky throws his fist in the air and yells along with everyone else. His heart is in his throat. The Statue of goddamn Liberty. Bucky wants to climb up her robe and kiss her sour green face.
The cheers rise up again as they go by her, and then die back down; most of the guys are just happy to sit and smile and watch the city float lazily into focus. They know they’ve got days more of barracks and bunks and cheap train seats before they’ll get to see their families in Pittsburgh, or Columbus, or Chicago. But Bucky’s home, he can see Brooklyn, and he laughs and shades his eyes from the sun and feels crazy with happiness, and this has to be the slowest fucking boat in the world, but at least he has a good view while he dies of impatience.
In 1945, Bucky comes home from the war.
One of my favorite fics of the past year or so. @743ish is so extremely talented at giving body and character and soul to the setting and characters, which include Bucky’s family. This is a really lovely fic, there’s no other way to describe it.