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There's an article being passed around on social media, popular and viral and the highlight of the religious groups. It praises the Omegas who are fertile, calls them blessings and gifts. Wonderful facilitators and harbingers of life. People are quoting it, sharing it, preaching it's veracity.
And as much as Tony tries to keep it away from Bucky's stormy eyes, he's unable to, even with JARVIS' immense help.
He finds Bucky curled around Teddy in his en suite bathroom. He's hiding in the tub knees pulled to his chest as he breathes in short gasping puffs, hair shaggy and tangled over his face.
Tony can tell he's been crying. He's awful with human interaction, with subtle changes in people's behavior, but even he can tell that Bucky is suffering. Can see the way the article's implications have gotten right down into Bucky's skin and planted itself as gospel truth.
He grumbles to himself, determined to find the author and tear them apart, as he turns on his heel to go find the only one who can possibly help Bucky right now: Brucey-poo.
But before he gets too far, he turns back and goes to crouch beside the tub, calloused hands hanging over the side. He can't stop the ache in his chest at the pitiful sight Bucky presents, so sad and lonely and devastatingly broken.
"Sweetheart," he starts softly. Bucky flinches, pulls his legs in closer and Teddy tighter to his chest. "Sweetheart, you're perfect for me." He runs a hand over tangled hair, over the still faintly trembling body, a reassuring touch, before he moved to stand. He stops to say, "I'd have you no other way."
There's a rough, wet hitch of breath before Bucky's desperate eyes look up at him. "Pr-promise?"
"You know I never do anything I don't want. I'd never have taken you if I didn't want you. And I don't want what Steve remembers. It's you, just like you are. Just like this."
Bucky sniffles and turns his face back down toward the tub, soft noises escaping him as he cries. Tony wants to crawl behind him in the tub, but he's done what he can. He's reassured Bucky that he's everything he wants, and the actual comforting will have to be done by Bruce. By somebody a little more human than him.
He slides a hand over Bucky's hair once more and stands as he says, "I love you, Bucky. I'm going to get Bruce to come down here with you."
-.-.-.-
Bruce is a special omega. Bucky likes him best. His scent is the most comforting, familiar. He's the same as Bucky, but without all of the bad things that Bucky had happen to him.
His scent fills the bathroom when he comes in, sad and comforting. There's none of his usual hesitation before he clamors into the tub behind Bucky, curling his body on the porcelain to mirror Bucky's pose. "Hey Buck," he murmurs into the tangles.
Bucky sniffs and let's himself relax into Bruce's touch, into the comforting caress of his big hands and perfect scent and soft curves.
Bruce's arm wraps around Bucky, over his hip and comes to rest against his hand holding Teddy. Bucky isn't stupid. He's broken and a bad omega and ruined, but he's not stupid.
He knows why he got Teddy, and even though he loves Teddy he also hates that it works for a substitute. But here, now, he hates Teddy for having to exist. He loathes that Teddy is proof of his failure, of his brokenness. And he hates that he can't give him up either.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Bruce asks softly. And Bucky jolts in his arms, jerking back to press against the other man.
Bruce is in the same situation. He's barren too. But Bucky would never call Bruce broken. He'd never apply those mean things to Bruce, even if he isn't fertile now and wasn't in his prime.
"I'm cold," Bucky whispers. He rolls over, pushing his face against Bruce's neck.
"The tub is cold," Bruce admits. "We can run a hot bath. Or we lay in the bed."
"Why do you care Bruce?" Bucky asks. He's scared, and all the hateful things he says about himself, others say about Bruce too. They're wrong, Bruce is wonderful, but the reality is there. He shouldn't be here with Bucky, even though Bruce is his favorite. He should be getting comfort from Tony.
"Because I love you. Because you deserve better. Because they said awful things about omegas like us, and while I don't really believe it, I know you do, so I wanted to make sure you were okay."
"I'm bad. That's why my body doesn't work right," he mumbles into Bruce's neck. The perfect scent, the incredible calm that the other omega exudes is enough to lull Bucky. His eyes feel heavy and his body is slowly relaxing.
"Babydoll," Bruce murmurs softly, sad. "Come on. Let's go lay in my bed," Bruce murmurs. He sits up, pulling Bucky with him. Bucky just leans into Bruce's body, into the other omega's warmth and comfort.
"I want to be good," he whispers into Bruce's skin, voice soft and choked. He hands Bruce Teddy as he stands, pushing himself shamefully to his feet. "An Alpha deserves a good omega."
"You're perfect sweetheart," Bruce murmurs, still suiting in the tub with Teddy held to his chest. "You're wonderful, and Tony loves you just like this. I love you just like this. So does Steve. Nobody else matters, Bucky. Just us. Just this."
"I just..." he trails off. It's stupid, he knows it is. He should be better, but he's not. He's useless, but Tony keeps him anyway. At least Bruce can compete with Tony in sciences. Steve is a soldier. And Bucky, all Bucky can do is housework, and even then he doesn't do much very well because he's broken.
"C'mon baby," Bruce murmurs, standing up. "Come lay with me. I'll get Tony and we'll have a cuddle pile."
Bucky nods and steps over the lip of the tub, leaving the room in a slow shuffle with his head down. He'll find a way to be better for Tony. For Bruce. For Steve. He'll learn to be better.
"Hey, there you guys are," Tony calls cheerfully when Bucky and Bruce leave the bathroom. Bucky flinches at the tone, his head still bowed. "Wanted you to see it before I shared it and made it popular."
When Bucky looks up, he sees Tony on the bed they sometimes share in a muscle shirt and sweatpants. He looks comfortable, leaning against the headboard with a tablet in his capable hands. Bucky hadn't expected to see him again, especially after his reassurances in the bathroom.
"What is it?" Bruce asks, but hand coming to rest on Bucky's hip, below the stump. He's pulled close to the other omega and forces himself to relax.
"Steve wrote an angry letter in response to that article. But this, this is so much better. Some angry omega got online and left a scathing commentary about being treated like parts, liked being pieced out at the junkyard. They discussed the value omega's have in all aspects of life, from mothers to soldiers, and to place value arbitrarily on those able to give life was demeaning and cruel and the author should be ashamed of themselves for letting it happen."
Bucky can't help the tears in his eyes. He knows that the one who wrote the article was either Tony or Bruce, because Steve would have unashamedly signed his name. He shuffles to the bed and crawls in, careful to maintain his precarious balance. Bruce follows him and is a long line of warmth against Bucky's back as he snuggles close. His hand pets down Bucky's shoulder, his back, his hip. He's a familiar weight against his back. He snuggles into Tony, his face buried in the sharp metallic scent of the Alpha and let's himself relax into the mechanic.