Alex woke later in her bed, someone gently shaking her back into consciousness. Last thing she remembered, she was watching a movie on the couch with Bucky - he must have carried her in here.

"Alex?"

Her attention was drawn to the voice of the person who was coaxing her from sleep. Turning on the bedside lamp, she squinted in the light to see their face. "Steve?" She sat up, "What are you doing in my bedroom?" she asked, questioning now whether she was actually awake.

"It's Bucky," with those words, Alex was wide awake, "Something's wrong."

Getting quickly out of bed, Alex followed Steve from the room, both of them walking quickly towards her roommate's door. "What happened?"

"I don't know, I heard a scream, so I came down to see what was wrong," They paused at the door, and looking inside Alex could see Bucky thrashing around in his bed, eyes squeezed tightly shut. "I tried to wake him, but I couldn't."

In her slightly dazed state, Alex barely registered the flash behind her. She turned around to see the storm that was raging outside, the rumbling of thunder beginning to build. Suddenly it clicked. "It's the storm," she said with a sigh, remembering that night in her apartment.

"What?"

"When he was with me at my apartment, there was a storm like this. He was the same that night. It reminds him of being on the front during the war." Her brow furrowed, "How come it doesn't happen with you?"

"I guess that it's different with each soldier, I wasn't on the front in the same way Bucky was," Steve's expression was full of concern, "What did you do before?"

"I spoke to him, like how you'd wake a kid up when they're having a nightmare."

Bucky's cries became more painful to hear and Steve winced, straightening up in the doorway, "Can you help him?"

"Yeah, I'll try."

"Do you need me to stay?"

Alex shook her head, "It's fine. You go back to bed; I can handle this."

"You sure?"

She nodded, and Steve reluctantly backed away from the door, retreating down the hallway only to glance back when he reached the elevator. He paused for a moment and Alex thought he was going to stay, but eventually he pushed the button and disappeared through the doors.

Alex took a hesitant step inside Bucky's room, watching as his hand fisted in the sheets, clicking loudly as the arm recalibrated. Walking further in, she could see the way his chest rose and fell heavily. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Alex wrapped her hand around his, speaking softly, "Bucky?"

His hand gripped hers tightly, "Bucky?" he gripped tighter still and though it was becoming painful, Alex knew that making any sounds of hurt or sudden movements would only make the situation worse. "Bucky, wake up."

There was another clap of thunder, and a bright flash of lightning and before Alex knew what was happening, Bucky's eyes had shot open, his metal hand gripping her wrist out of instinct. He pushed her back, eyes void of emotion – but this time Alex was prepared. Moving quickly behind him, her free arm hooked around his neck, so she was right next to his ear. "Bucky, listen to me, this isn't you."

He huffed, relenting his grip on her wrist to grasp at the arm around his neck, but Alex wouldn't let the new ache in her wrist stop her. "Bucky, please. Listen to my voice. This isn't you, it's just the storm." As she spoke, his breathing began to calm, hands slowing to rest on her arm.

"…Alex?" His voice came in a pained whisper. "What—what happened?"

"The storm," she didn't need to say anymore, his head dropping, and Alex could feel the heat radiating from him.

"What did I do?" He pulled back so he could turn to face her, eyes wide and panicked, "Did I hurt you?"

Bucky's eyes searched her, and Alex was grateful that the red marks on her skin couldn't be seen in the low light of his bedroom. "No, I'm okay," she lied, knowing that for the next few days all her shirts would be long sleeved.

He put his head in his hands, breaths still shaky, as Alex rubbed his back in soothing circles to calm him. Thunder clapped again and she felt Bucky's shoulders tense beneath her hand. Sighing heavily, he ran his fingers through his hair, which Alex now noticed was growing out again.

"I'm sorry…" Bucky's voice was so quiet, Alex almost missed it. "Did I wake you?"

"No," his brow furrowed, "But you did wake Steve – he woke me because he was worried about you," she clarified.

A wave of guilt crossed his features, "You should get back to bed, I'll be okay now."

Her brows shot up, "You expect me to believe that? Bucky, you're shaking."

"I'll be fine!" he snapped, and Alex moved away a little, not because he'd scared her, but because he seemed to need the space. Bucky sighed wearily, grasping Alex's hand, not noticing how she winced at the ache of the newly forming bruises. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

"It's not fine," he turned to face her again, "I'm just still a little-"

"I get it," Alex smiled at him before getting to her feet, scrubbing a hand over her tired face, "I'm glad you're okay."

He lifted his eyes to meet hers, "Really?"

She nodded, "Steve wasn't the only one who was worried, y'know." He gave her a sweet smile and Alex melted, "Are you sure you're gonna be okay?"

Bucky smirked, "You can stay if it'd make you feel better."

Alex chuckled, blushing a little as she dropped her eyes. She wanted to say no, but it would be a lie to try and say that it didn't feel right to comfort him like she had. "Goodnight Bucky," she said with a smile, knowing that right now, a little distance would be better. "You know where I am if you need me."

He nodded, "Night."

As Bucky watched her leave, he thought that her leaving would hurt more. But, the way she'd comforted him, and said she would be there allowed him a glimmer of hope that she might feel the same way that he did.

"So, I'm guessing those are from Barnes' little storm freakout?" Natasha gestured to Alex's hand as they trained the next morning. Due to the serum giving her increased ability to heal, the bruises were now a dark purple with a yellowish tinge, which meant that by tomorrow they would be completely gone – and she had to admit to being thankful for that.

"Steve told you then," she muttered in response, landing a punch on the bag with her uninjured hand.

Natasha shrugged, "Rogers is rarely quiet when it comes to worrying about Barnes." She walked over to stand on the other side of Alex's punch bag, "Are you okay though?"

"I'm fine," she snapped a little and was instantly reminded of Bucky's defensive attitude the night before. She took a breath before continuing in a more measured tone, "He needed me and I was there for him – that's all there is to it."

Her trainer scoffed, "What?" Alex asked, looking her dead in the eye.

"Just you, pretending like you don't love that he needs you."

"Nat, the guy was suffering with PTSD!"

"So?"

"So – it's not like I was comforting him to get into his pants!"

"Don't you mean back into his pants?" Alex's jaw hung open, "Oh, come on, Alex I'm not stupid."

Alex leant against the bag for a moment, "Look, I just helped wake him up and calm him down. Hell, for a while I had him in a chokehold."

"Kinky."

"Nat." With a warning in her tone Alex resumed her exercises and for a while Natasha stood there silently.

"So, you're still in love with him, right?"

"Aren't you meant to be training me?"

She grinned, "Ah, so you admit it."

Alex sighed, "Can we stop talking about this? Please?"

"I'm still not hearing a denial, but sure," Natasha moved Alex away from the punch bag, "Let's test your skills." Alex raised a quizzical brow, and so Natasha explained, "You're gonna get up there," she pointed to the beam above the door, "And I want you to disarm and pin the next agent to walk through that door."

"No, I'm not doing that," Alex said defiantly.

"Why?"

"Because last time you made me do it, Hill almost shot me in the leg!"

"That's because you didn't disarm her," Natasha smirked, remembering Alex's squeal as Maria's gun shot a hole in the punch bag, "Besides, you can heal, so it's not like you'd be that hurt."

"It still hurts, even if it heals after."

Natasha put on a mock pout, "Aw, what is it, Alex – you chicken?"

"Fine!" She stormed over to the door, lifting herself onto the beam with ease. "Next agent who comes in is going on the floor!"

They waited for a good ten minutes before they could hear footsteps coming along the corridor, whoever it was, was waved into the room by Natasha, only for Alex to drop on them, taking their gun and tossing it to one side before pushing them to the floor, knee between their shoulder blades and arms pulled back.

"Good," Natasha said simply, nodding to Alex, "You can let him up now."

"What the hell, guys?!" Clint stood up, stretching after the impact of the surprise attack.

Alex retrieved the archer's gun, holding it out to him, "Sorry Barton – but she called me chicken!" She pointed an accusatory finger at Natasha.

"Okay, Marty McFly." He rubbed his shoulder, sending a mock-glare Alex's way.

"See? Clint gets my references."

Natasha rolled her eyes, "I get your references, Lockhart, I just don't want to encourage you. I've already got one wise-ass to deal with."

Clint grinned, "You say wise-ass, Nat, I say genius."

"And that's why I use you as practice for the newbies."

They finished training early that afternoon, Natasha happy enough with her progress after attacking Clint, so Alex headed to the kitchen after her shower in desperate need of caffeine. Nat had talked her into a drink, and as soon as Clint heard it had turned into a whole Avengers Tower party, so Alex wanted to at least be fully awake for it.

She could already smell fresh coffee wafting down the hall, grateful that Bucky had beaten her to it when she saw him pour out a mug for himself. Hearing her come in, Bucky looked up, "You want one?"

"Yes please," she grinned, hopping up onto a bar stool.

Sliding the mug across the counter to Alex, Bucky leant against the worktop opposite her, watching as she took a sip, humming at the warmth. "Good?"

"Great."

They both stayed quiet for a moment, but when Alex lifted the mug again to take another drink, Bucky couldn't help but notice the bruising on her hand. He swallowed, "Did I do that?" he asked tentatively, catching Alex off-guard.

When she realised what he meant, she dropped her hand below the counter so he couldn't see it. "It's fine – doesn't even hurt anymore. One of the many benefits of being able to heal yourself quickly," she smiled a little, but Bucky's expression didn't change.

He placed his mug down on the counter and walked over to where she sat. Carefully, he took her injured hand in his, slowly inching back the long sleeve of her sweater that covered where the fading yellow bruises reached to just past her wrist. Alex watched his face as he lightly trailed his fingers over the harsh marks.

"I hurt you," he said in a small voice, eyes large and sorrowful.

"You didn't mean to," Alex took his hand in hers, pulling the sleeve back down quickly.

Bucky shook his head, "That doesn't make it okay, Alex, I gave you those bruises!"

"Not on purpose," she said vehemently, "Bucky, you weren't you last night. You were scared."

"And I hurt you!"

"And I kind of hurt you back," Alex chuckled, "Remember – arm around your neck?"

He gave an almost imperceptible smile, "That didn't hurt."

"Well, if you're gonna complain, next time I won't hold back."

This time Bucky actually laughed, "Thank you."

Alex drank down the rest of her coffee, "I assume Clint's told you about tonight?"

"He ran around saying 'party, party, party' but nothing specific," he smirked.

Alex laughed, imagining Clint's childlike excitement, "Well, top floor at 8, Stark's providing the booze. I realise that neither of us can get drunk, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't take full advantage of a billionaire's open bar." She hopped off the stool, heading to the door.

"In that case, I'll see you there."