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The rain fell relentlessly from the leaden sky above, casting a somber hue over the cityscape of New York. Thick clouds obscured the fading light of the setting sun, draping the world below in a veil of misty gray. Bucky Barnes, having just finished his monthly therapy session, walked home. To you.
Each step he took echoed against the wet pavement, the sound of his boots mingling with the rhythmic patter of raindrops. He hunched his shoulders against the chill in the air, his breath forming misty clouds in front of him as he navigated the labyrinth of alleyways on his way home.
He didn’t mind the rain or walking; he’d been through worse. Besides, he never liked taking the bus. The idea of being packed in a moving vehicle with a bunch of strangers made him feel anxious. So instead, he pulled his collar up, grumbling under his breath about the weather, but deep down, he welcomed the solitude of the New York weather seeping into his boots. It had been a long day, and all he wanted was to get back to the warm, dry sanctuary of the apartment he shared with you.
As he turned the corner, a faint, pitiful meow sound reached his ears. Bucky paused, frowning, his gaze scanning the dimly lit alleyway.
Nothing.
Bucky was about to dismiss it and continue on his way when he heard it again—soft, desperate, and unmistakably real.
His instincts kicked in, overriding his initial skepticism. He couldn’t ignore the possibility that something—or someone—was in need of help in this weather. With a resigned sigh, Bucky turned back, retracing his steps until he reached the source of the sound.
There, behind a dumpster in a dimly lit alley, huddled under a makeshift shelter of cardboard and plastic bags, was a tiny, soaked kitten. Its fur was matted, and it shivered violently, looking up at Bucky with wide, frightened eyes. His heart went out to the tiny creature as he observed its plight. Its once pristine white fur was now mottled and dirty from the rain, clinging uncomfortably to its skinny frame.
But what caught his attention the most were its eyes—bright blue orbs that stood out starkly against the gray backdrop of the alleyway. They were the brightest shade of blue he had ever seen, like two sapphires gleaming in the darkness.
Despite the fear and uncertainty reflected in those wide eyes, there was also a glimmer of hope, a silent plea for rescue. It was as if the kitten knew that Bucky was its only chance for salvation in this unforgiving world.
He hesitated before reaching out, worried he might scare or hurt the tiny creature. His hand hovered uncertainly until the kitten’s soft, pitiful meow spurred him into action. “Hey there, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured, crouching down as he extended a tentative hand.
The kitten hesitated too, torn between instinctual fear and a desperate longing for warmth and safety.
“It’s okay; I won’t hurt you,” Bucky soothed, his voice gentle as his hand outstretched.
The kitten eyed him for a moment longer, then slowly crept towards him, its small, wet body quivering. Finally, it sniffed Bucky’s glove-covered fingers, then tentatively nuzzled his palm. A faint purr rumbled from its chest, a feeble sign of gratitude.
“It’s okay, little buddy,” Bucky reassured the kitten, lifting it into his arms and holding it close to his chest. He could feel its tiny heart fluttering like a bird’s wings.
Bucky cradled the kitten; he leaned in closer, squinting at the kitten’s features as if trying to discern something. Realization dawned on him, and he let out a sheepish chuckle.
“Sorry, lady,” he said with a sheepish grin, acknowledging his mistake.
“Maybe I could take you to the animal shelter,” Bucky muttered, scratching the kitten behind its ears. His expression was contemplative, but as he voiced the suggestion, the kitten snuggled deeper into his chest, its purrs growing louder as if rejecting the very notion.
He sighed, knowing he was a goner. As the former Winter Soldier, he was no stranger to abandonment and isolation. And this small, vulnerable creature was not that different from Bucky—all alone in the world, with no place to call home and no one to protect and care for it. Bucky could relate. And now, the idea of leaving this poor kitten at a shelter to fend for itself sat badly with him.
He was already running late to you, partly because the girl before him at the therapy center had exceeded her allotted time, causing his session to start later than scheduled. Additionally, the rain showed no signs of letting up. If anything, it was getting stronger and colder, making his skin feel numb and prickly.
Bucky ran a hand through his damp hair, contemplating the situation. He’d always resisted the idea of a pet, pointing out the responsibilities, costs, and space constraints. Your place wasn't exactly pet-friendly or big enough for the two of you, let alone a new furry friend. The logistics of pet ownership weighed heavily on his mind as he considered the added expenses and adjustments they would need to make to accommodate a pet in your lives.
Deep down, he knew you wouldn’t be able to resist the kitten either. Bucky remembered how you had always talked about wanting a pet. Whether it was a dog for long walks or a little cat for cuddling on the couch, the desire for a pet had been a constant presence in your conversations, mostly on your behalf. He recalled the way your eyes would light up whenever you saw a cute animal or how you would spend hours scrolling through cat videos online, dreaming of the day when you could finally have one of your own. But you respected his wishes and tried not to push too hard.
Though he’d never tell you, Bucky was haunted by the fear of not being able to properly care for a pet. His time as the Winter Soldier was marked by clear memories and nightmares of his past as HYDRA’s ruthless assassin. The thought of failing to care for another life, especially one as fragile as a small animal, filled him with dread. Lingering concerns about inadvertently causing harm, including to you or any other person.
But as time passed and his nightmares troubled him less (as possible), he began to recognize the benefits of having a pet.
Like the countless therapy sessions with Dr. Raynor, where his mind often drifted away, but he recalled her mentioning the therapeutic benefits of pets. She had spoken about how they could aid in managing mental health issues such as PTSD, trauma, anxiety, depression, and stress.
"Luckily," Bucky had all of the above—and even more.
As the former Winter Soldier, he could understand the desire for protection and the longing for a loving embrace. Your presence, patience, and love helped him find stability and a sense of normalcy. Whether it was holding him during his nightmares, patiently listening to his stories, or simply being there when he needed someone to lean on, you had always been his rock. With you by his side, he started to believe that he could care for another life.
He knew how happy the kitten would make you. It was the least he could give you in return for everything you had done for him. He knew that seeing the joy on your face would outweigh any concerns he had about the practicalities of pet ownership.
If Bucky didn’t know better, he might have thought that you had something to do with this, pulling the strings from afar to fulfill your lifelong dream of having a pet.
And so, Bucky decided to embrace the inevitable. After all, who could resist those innocent eyes and that pitiful meow?
"Alright, come on," he said to the kitten, his voice carrying a blend of resignation and amusement. As he gently tucked the tiny ball of fur under his jacket, a soft chuckle escaped him. He watched with a smile as the kitten started to make herself comfortable, settling into the warmth of his coat. "You're about to meet my girl."
The kitten blinked up at him, purring softly, her little face peeking out from the opening in his jacket. Bucky couldn't help but chuckle at the sight, feeling his heart melt at the adorable display.
"Trust me, she’ll love you," he told the kitten with a reassuring grin.
With gentle fingers, he closed the zipper halfway, ensuring the kitten had enough air to breathe while still staying snug and secure.
He glanced back in the direction of your apartment, a smile curling on his lips as anticipation bubbled within him. He couldn't wait to see the look on your face when you met the new member of your family.
***
You stood in your kitchen, the smell of chicken soup wafting around the small room as you stirred the pot, adding a pinch of salt and a dash of pepper. Glancing at the clock, you couldn’t help but wonder where Bucky was. He should have been home by now. You knew that Bucky could’ve taken care of himself, but a gnawing feeling of unease twisted in the pit of your stomach.
You tried to brush it off, convincing yourself that it was just the nerves of the weather and the late hour playing tricks on your mind. You were certain that if anything had happened, he would have texted or called by now.
As if on cue, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the apartment. Bucky stepped inside, raindrops cascading from his jacket. "Hey, I'm home," he announced, a boyish grin spreading across his face as he headed to the kitchen, drawn by the aroma wafting through the air. Coming up behind you, he wrapped his arms around your waist and planted a tender kiss on your cheek. "Smells great."
“Hey, are you alright? Are you cold?” you asked, concern lacing your voice. Turning from the stove to face him, you noticed his wet appearance, raindrops trailing down his jacket, and his damp hair clinging to his forehead. You were so preoccupied with worry that you didn’t notice the small bump hidden beneath his jacket.
“No, no, I’m fine,” he insisted, his smile unwavering. “Just got held up a bit.” He leaned in for a kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist, your back brushing against the counter. "Sorry, baby," he apologized, his voice soft.
“It’s alright,” you murmured against his lips, your hands resting lightly on his chest. Just as you leaned in for another kiss, a soft, plaintive meow pierced the air, disrupting the intimate moment between you and Bucky.
You pulled away, your eyebrows arching in surprise. “Did you just meow at me?”
“Not exactly,” Bucky replied, his lips quivering into a sheepish grin as he unzipped his jacket.
A tiny, bedraggled kitten peeked out from underneath, her bright blue eyes wide with innocence. The little creature, originally white, was now covered in dirt and damp from the rain, giving her a pitiful yet endearing appearance. The unexpected sight brought a smile to your face, softening the moment with its adorable interruption.
"Oh, my God!" you exclaimed, your heart melting at the sight of the little creature. With gentle hands, you reached out and carefully scooped her up, feeling her tiny body vibrating with a soft purr as you held her close.
"They’re adorable!" you exclaimed, scratching the kitten under the chin, your face radiant with delight.
"Yeah, I found her behind a dumpster; I just couldn’t leave her out in the rain," Bucky explained, his voice filled with adoration as he watched you cradle the kitten in your arms.
The look on your face resembled that of a child meeting Santa Claus for the first time or discovering a hidden stash of candy.
The kitten’s face lit up, mostly surprised by the strange woman who was now holding her. She peered up at you, her head cocked to the side, curious but wary.
"It's a her?" You asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Yeah, I checked," he replied, his fingers gently running through the kitten's fur.
You chuckled softly at Bucky's expression, enjoying the moment. "You checked?"
"Yeah, I mean, how else was I gonna know?" Bucky scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks.
"Well then, she’s adorable," you cooed, gently patting the top of the kitten's head. "We should probably take her to the vet to make sure she's okay."
"I already called," Bucky said, a hint of pride in his voice, "and they have an opening tomorrow morning."
"Okay, I guess I’ll be late to work tomorrow," you said with a chuckle, already resigning yourself to the inevitable tardiness. "I’ll drop her off at the vet on my way. Maybe they’ll know what to do with her.”
Bucky’s heart raced as he watched you interact with the kitten, a nervous energy tingling through his body. The last thing he ever expected was to take in a stray cat, and he still wasn’t sure how the two of you would manage with your jobs and daily schedules.
Could he, a former assassin, protect such a fragile creature?
As he saw the excitement in your eyes and heard the happiness in your voice, he knew it was the right decision. He understood the loneliness and worry that engulfed you when he was away on missions, and it burdened his conscience. The fear of ineffective communication, particularly during his missions, leaving you at home without a distraction from worrying about him, only intensified his determination. So, he thought, why not bring some joy into your life? It was a small gesture, but if it could alleviate even a fraction of your anxiety and loneliness, it would be worth it.
“Yeah, I suppose so,” he agreed, his voice wavering slightly with uncertainty and affection. “But, uh, maybe... I was thinking we could keep her...” His hands fidgeted with the hem of his jacket as he gestured to the kitten, who had curled up contentedly in your arms, her eyes half-closed in bliss.
Your eyes widened in surprise at Bucky’s suggestion, then softened as you looked down at the kitten nestled in your arms. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you gently stroked her fur, feeling the warmth and comfort of the small creature in your embrace.
“Keep her?” You repeated, the idea sinking in as you considered the possibility. You glanced up at Bucky, seeing the hopeful anticipation in his eyes.
"Yeah, I mean, I know how much you wanted a pet, and by the look on her face, she needs us. How can we say no to a face like that?” Bucky's words came out in a rush, his nerves betraying his vulnerability as he awaited your response. “And... I think she likes you already.”
Your heart swelled with warmth at Bucky’s earnestness and his genuine desire to make you happy. You met his gaze, feeling the depth of his affection mirrored in your own eyes.
“She does seem to have taken a liking to me,” you admitted with a soft chuckle, watching as the kitten nuzzled closer to you. “And I can’t imagine what she’s been through.”
A grin spread across Bucky’s face, relief evident in his expression. “So, does that mean...” he trailed off, leaving the question hanging between you, hopeful yet hesitant.
"Yeah, I mean, I’m in, but are you sure you’re okay with it? I know you were a little apprehensive about getting a pet before, and I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything. We can always take her to a shelter if you don't want her," you assured him.
She meowed in protest, as if sensing your hesitancy.
“Should’ve warn you,” Bucky chuckled at her reaction. “I think ‘shelter’ might be her trigger word,” he remarked, a playful glint in his eyes. “But seriously, I think she’s meant to be with us. I know we’ve talked about this before, and I was merely against it, but you’ve done so much for me, and for you, I'm willing to give it a try.”
You smiled softly at Bucky’s words, touched by his willingness to compromise. “I appreciate that, Bucky,” you replied, your voice filled with warmth. “And I agree, she does seem like she belongs here.” Gently stroking her fur, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement at the prospect of welcoming the little kitten into your home. “I know it’s a big commitment, but we can make it work. We’ll figure out the budget together, and as for responsibility, we’ll share it. And the apartment—well, it’ll feel more like home if we make it. Thank you for doing this for me.”
Bucky's expression softened as he spoke, a small smile gracing his lips. "Seeing you happy is all that matters to me," he confessed earnestly. "And if that means embracing this little furball, then count me in." He extended his hand, delicately caressing her fur with a tenderness that reflected his affection. "Plus, she's already won me over."
You chuckled, teasingly remarking, "Big, scary Bucky Barnes, softening at the sight of a tiny kitten? Who would've thought?"
Bucky smirked, a playful glint in his eyes. "Hey now, let's keep this between us," he quipped. "I don't need Sam giving me a hard time about it."
As the kitten gave a sleepy meow and snuggled deeper into your arms, you shared a knowing smile with Bucky.
“Well, I guess she’s staying,” you said with a smile, gently stroking the kitten’s head. “So, how do you want to call her?”
Bucky grinned, meeting your gaze. “Me?”
“Well, you found her,” you replied, chuckling softly.
Bucky chuckled, scratching the kitten’s ears thoughtfully. “Fair point,” he conceded. “How about Winter?
You raised an eyebrow, looking up at him. “Winter?”
“Yeah,” Bucky continued, a hint of pride in his voice. “Because it’s winter.”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t suppress a smile. “That’s a bit basic, Bucky.”
Bucky laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “How about... Snowball?”
You shook your head, amusement dancing in your eyes. “Nope.”
“Socks?” he tried again, his tone hopeful.
“No,” you replied, your smile growing wider.
"What about... Snowy?"
You laughed, shaking your head. “I swear to God, Bucky.”
He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Fine, fine.”
Bucky pretended to mull it over, then glanced down at the kitten, his hands gently stroking her once pristine white, now matted and damp fur. The kitten's tail swished lazily.
"How about Alpine?" he suggested, his voice soft and thoughtful.
“Alpine?” you echoed, considering the name.
“Yeah,” Bucky said, his voice softening. “You know, like the mountains.”
You smiled, looking down at the kitten. “I like it... It suits her.”
Alpine blinked up at you, giving a soft, sleepy meow.
"Welcome home, Alpine," you murmured, cuddling him close.
Alpine purred, snuggling closer to your chest.
Bucky smiled, watching the scene unfold before him. The love you had for this tiny kitten was instant, and it made him love you even more. The warm, cozy apartment provided the perfect backdrop, with the sound of rain still tapping against the windows. He leaned in, giving you a soft kiss on the cheek.
"I love you," he murmured, his voice filled with affection.
"I love you too," you replied, your eyes sparkling. "Thanks for bringing her."
"My pleasure," Bucky said with a grin, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him.
"Hey, why don't you go and take a warm shower? I've making us some chicken noodle soup for us."
Bucky’s tense expression softened as he looked at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Sounds perfect,” he said, his voice low and warm.
As Bucky disappeared into the bathroom, his footsteps softened by the carpet, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. He was here, safe and sound.
After gently patting Alpine's head, you placed her on the floor before turning your attention to the stove. Steam rose from the pot as you spooned the soup into bowls, filling the kitchen with its comforting aroma.
As you arranged the bowls on the table, you noticed Alpine shaking off droplets of water, her fur still damp from the rain. It was evident that the poor kitten needed to get dry and warm as well.
"Looks like you need a warm shower as well," you said with a soft chuckle, glancing at her.
Determined to clean up the bedraggled feline, you sprang into action. Rushing to your neighbor’s door, you hoped they could assist you. Thankfully, being cat owners themselves, they readily offered to lend you some cat shampoo.
Back in your apartment, you prepared a small bucket filled with warm water, carefully lowering Alpine into it. At first, she resisted, her tiny paws flailing in protest. "Come on, Alpine, it's just a little water," you coaxed, trying to soothe her nerves.
Alpine responded with a tiny, indignant meow, her big blue eyes accusing you of betrayal. "I know, I know, but you need a bath," you chuckled, amused by her dramatic reaction. "You'll thank me later."
Gradually, she settled down, allowing you to lather her fur with the shampoo. Despite her initial resistance, she squirmed and protested, making the task more challenging. As you scrubbed, you kept up a one-sided conversation with her. “You think this is bad? Just wait until you experience a hair dryer or a flea bath kid. That is not fun at all.
Alpine tilted her head to the side, her large eyes filled with curiosity and uncertainty.
"Yeah, it’s horrible," you nodded, rinsing her off. "Don't believe me? I’ve got the scars to prove it.” You flashed a wry smile at her, shaking your head.
As Alpine began to relax and enjoy the warm water, she seemed to accept her fate, letting out a low purr. "I knew you'd see things my way," you chuckled, carefully lifting her out of the bucket.
After wrapping her in a soft towel, you gently dried her fur, admiring the fluffy texture. Her previously pristine white coat was now a s nowy clean white, like a miniature version of the mountainous terrain from which she had taken her name.
She seemed to appreciate the warmth, snuggling deeper into the towel as you finished up. "See? Not so bad, right?" you murmured, stroking her head gently.
Alpine responded with a soft purr, her eyes half-closing in contentment. "
"Glad we've come to an understanding," you laughed, gently scooping her into your arms and cradling her close. "I have a feeling you and I are going to be good friends."
Settling onto the couch with your laptop, you started browsing online, making a mental list of all the things Alpine would need.
Just as you began noting down some essentials, the faint sound of running water from the shower ceased, followed by the creak of the bathroom door opening.
"Is everything alright?" Bucky asked, his voice thick with concern as he stepped into the room, fresh from his shower. His hair was damp, and his skin still had a faint pink glow from the warmth of the water.
"Yeah, yeah, everything's fine," you assured him, smiling softly. "I gave Alpine a quick bath."
Bucky's lips quirked into a smile as he walked over, his gaze falling on the newly clean feline. "Oh, wow, she looks much better," he remarked, his fingers gently stroking her fur.
“Thank you, I asked the kid from apartment D3 for some cat shampoo.”
“You mean the one with a crush on you?” Bucky teased, arching his brow.
You rolled your eyes, playfully punching him on the shoulder. “Jake is fifthteen.”
“Doesn’t matter, he still have a crush on ya,” he persisted with a smirk.
You laughed, shaking your head. “Drink up your soup.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, smirking. Settling beside you, he stretched his legs out in front of him.
You rested your head against his shoulder, watching him as he took a sip of his soup.
“What are you looking at?” he asked, curiosity lacing his voice.
You grinned, gesturing to your laptop.
Bucky squinted at the screen, reading the website header. "'Top 10 essentials for your new cat.' You work fast," he remarked, a playful glint in his eyes.
"Hey, don't blame me," you said, laughing. "She's probably been through a lot and I figured we could at least make sure she has everything she needs to feel comfortable while she heals."
A fond smile spread across his face. "I guess we're both healing, aren't we?" he said softly, feeling a sense of peace settle over him.
You grinned and kissed his lips. "Guess so," you murmured. "I'm proud of you, Bucky. For giving Alpine a chance and for giving yourself a chance. It takes a lot of courage, and I'm glad you did."
Bucky's smile widened, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin. "Thank you," he said softly, his voice filled with gratitude. "I couldn't have done it without you."
"And I wouldn't have made it without you," you replied, gazing into his eyes.
He chuckled softly, reaching out to gently stroke Alpine's fur. "But enough about me—I thought I'd have a little more time before becoming a father."
"Come on," you said, giggling. “These are just a few things she might need. You know. Like a bed. And some toys, and definitely a litter box and bowl.” Your words rush out in an almost breathless manner.
"Well, we can't have her pissing and shitting everywhere, can we?" he joked, eliciting a giggle from you. “Anything else?”
“Maybe a scratching post,” you mused, a thoughtful look on your face. “To keep her from destroying the furniture, And some good quality food.”
Bucky smirked, setting down his bowl of soup. He leaned in closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Are you sure we’re talking about the cat?”
You snorted, elbowing him lightly. “Behave,” you chided, though there was no real reprimand in your tone.
“Speaking of which, I should probably go get her some food,” you added, a hint of concern in your voice. “There’s a 24-hour convenience store down the block.”
“I’ll go,” Bucky offered, already rising to his feet.
You shot him a skeptical look. “In this weather? Bucky, you’ve done enough. Sit down, relax, and watch a movie with her.”
"I'm the one who can't get sick, remember? Besides, I'm not letting you out in this weather," he pointed out, his voice tinged with a protective edge. "I'll be fine. It's just a quick run. I'll be back before you know it."
You sighed, knowing better than to argue with him. “Okay.”
Bucky leaned down, planting a quick kiss on your forehead before pulling on his jacket, grabbing his wallet, and slipping into his boots. With a tender gesture, he reached for the blanket resting on the back of the couch, draping it gently over your shoulders.
As he stepped out into the rain, he called back over his shoulder, "Stay cozy; I'll be right back." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone in the warmth of the apartment.
Chuckling to yourself, you settled deeper into the embrace of the blanket, grateful for his thoughtfulness. Your big, tough, former-assassin boyfriend is out in the cold New York rain to buy cat food that he decided to keep just to make you happy.
The room was filled with a comforting warmth, with the soft glow of the lamp casting a serene light over everything. You stroked Alpine’s fur gently, your thoughts drifting. A fond smile spread across your face. You were truly lucky to have him, and you wouldn’t trade him for anything in the world.
You looked down at the sleeping kitten, your gaze softening.
You looked down at the sleeping kitten, your gaze softening. She stirred, blinking sleepily and letting out a small meow. You couldn't help but chuckle as you leaned down to press a kiss on her soft fur.
"Welcome home, Alpine," you whispered. The kitten purred in reply, her tiny body vibrating with contentment.
With a smile, you snuggled into the couch, and Alpine nestled closer, as if sensing your need for comfort. The sound of the rain outside faded into the background as you lost yourself in your computer, planning for the wonderful night ahead with the love of your life and your new best friend.