"We are still in the desert." – Jarhead
Victoria pitched forwards as the sound of strangled screams filled the air. Throwing off the thin blanket she had draped across her Victoria nearly tumbled off the sofa in her haste to get out of the living room. Finally finding her feet she ran towards the open doorway, stumbling into her bedroom she groped blindly at the wall. Having located the plastic switch she turned the dial and flooded the room with a warm yellow light.
"James!" Victoria shouted, as she hovered hesitantly over the man writhing on the bed.
The veins in his arm and legs were coiled like knots, as every muscle appeared to be tensed as he fought against the covers tangled around his limbs. Quiet utterances left his lips as his limbs shook, a garbled stream of Russian whispered into the pillow before another shuddering sob was ripped from his lungs as his right arm flailed dangerously. Victoria bit her lip, her eyes suddenly zoning in on the glass of water she had left on the bedside table. Quickly snatching up the receptacle she threw its contents all over James.
In an instant the man was awake, his eyes wide and unstaring as he was forcibly pulled from the foggy pit of memories his unconscious mind had dragged him.
"James," Victoria's voice cracked through the still air and James' eyes snapped towards her.
The man frowned; his blues eyes a whirling pool of half processed emotions, but the overriding sense of fear he felt was palpable. Victoria moved towards the bed, her hands reaching out to grab James. She could almost feel the tension roll off James as his body slumped around hers, his fingers knotting into the thin material of her vest top.
"Come on," Victoria grunted as she adjusted to the newfound weight distributed across her body. "Lets go to the bathroom ok?"
James nodded mutely, shuffling towards the other room as he gripped the blonde tightly.
Having reached for the light Victoria stood James next to the shower, hoping that his legs wouldn't give way beneath him as he swayed unsteadily on his feet. His blue eyes still had something of an unfocused quality but every so often he would track Victoria's movement with what could have possibly been interest disturbing his otherwise blank features.
Hastily reaching for the tap in the walk in shower Victoria winced as a spray of cold water hit her. Wiping off the offending moisture on a towel Victoria reached for James, she couldn't help but notice that his skin was clammy to the touch. With little ceremony Victoria peeled off his sodden tee shirt, biting back a gasp she tried not to stare at the jagged scar that ran perpendicular to his shoulder blade before coming round to skim the side of his left pectoral. The skin was puckered; some of the flesh closest to the fissure was thick with scar tissue. A particularly angry looking welt ran across his back, clearly the result of a knife wound. What looked like the wounds left from ballistic traumas peppered the rest of his body, the marks from other miscellaneous injuries he had collected over the years were littered across his chest.
"James are you with me?" Victoria asked, her hands hovering over his chest as she tried her best not to stare at his exposed skin, a stark reminder of his latent history.
The ex assassin gave her no response; instead he stumbled forwards, his eyes staring vacantly ahead. Gritting her teeth Victoria steadied herself against his considerable weight once more.
"Come on James, stand up for me ok?" the blonde requested as if she were addressing a particularly sullen child.
To her relief James complied, one hand braced against Victoria's shoulder as he righted himself. Shaking the rising embarrassment that was swelling in her stomach Victoria reached for the elasticated waist of his sweat pants, tugging down the offending garment she was somewhat relieved to see a pair of blue boxers. Kicking the now discarded clothing to one side Victoria tugged James towards the shower, not bothering to close the glass door behind them she sat James down on the marble ledge that ran the length of the shower.
Scalding hot water hit her shoulders and drenched her top, the fabric clinging to her body, ignoring the discomfort Victoria reached for a bottle of shower gel.
Soon the scent of bergamot and lemongrass filled the shower room, Victoria's hands passing a flannel across James' skin. Her breathing suddenly stilled as James' left hand wrapped around her wrist, glancing down she swallowed heavily. For the first time since she'd woken James from his sleep the man was actually looking at her, his cerulean orbs narrowed in quiet concentration as he observed Victoria.
James' mouth was slightly parted, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as his right hand brushed away the droplets of water that clung to Victoria's golden skin, his thumb massaging a circular pattern into the pliant flesh of her upper arm.
"You know doll, in my day you had to be married before you got into these sorts of positions with a dame. Or at least, that's what you promised her…"
A somewhat undignified snort escaped Victoria, followed by a peal of laugher as the tips of her fingers skimmed the man's jaw. James licked his mouth and Victoria could have sworn she'd never seen anything quite so lascivious.
The relative quiet of bathroom was disturbed as a large figure barreled through the great clouds of steam.
"Bucky!" Steve called.
"Here…" James answered, his hands falling from Victoria as the blonde stumbled backwards, her back cracking painfully against the chrome taps. Hissing in pain Victoria quickly turned off the water.
"Buck…" Steve petered off, his eyes widening as he took in James' state of undress and Victoria was suddenly painfully aware of her current lack of clothes. The ridiculously small shorts she favored for sleeping stuck to her thighs, the thin fabric of her vest top having taken on a sheer quality clung to her skin. Thank God she'd kept on her bra was all she could think as her eyes drifted from Steve to James.
"Cap…" Victoria bit her lip, forcing down the urge to refer to the war hero by his superhero alter ego. "Steve. James was…"
"I had a nightmare," James suddenly interjected. "I don't think I was particularly lucid and Victoria dragged me in here."
"I didn't drag you…" Victoria muttered under her breath. "Making it out like I'm forcing you to…"
James barked out a laugh, much to the surprise of Steve who sent a sideways glance towards his friend. "Sorry doll, I didn't mean to suggest you were trying anything untoward."
Victoria bit back a retort, rubbing her arms in an attempt to rid her of the goose bumps that had begun to form across her skin.
"Here," Steve mumbled, his eyes firmly stuck to the floor as he passed Victoria a towel.
"Cheers." Victoria muttered her thanks before slipping past the super soldier.
Drying off her limbs Victoria wrapped the towel around her body before wriggling out of her shorts and underwear, the wet garments dropping to the floor with a slick thud. Avoiding looking at the two men still stood in the shower Victoria negotiated with her top and bra and was soon standing naked beneath the towel. Scooping up her clothes she dropped them in the bathtub, she would deal with them later. For now she needed to put on some warm dry clothes and ignore the fact that she felt like she was starring in the beginning of a bad porno movie. Pushing down the errant thought Victoria went into her bedroom, doing her best to ignore James' lingering gaze on her back.
Steve had similarly offered James a towel and the ex assassin had obliged his friend by shucking off his boxers and slinging the white fabric around his waist.
"There should be some clothes in here somewhere." Steve muttered to himself more than anything as he moved towards the large wooden cupboards that lined one wall of the bathroom. Finally Steve's search proved fruitful, a plain white tee shirt and what looked to be pajama bottoms were withdrawn from the second cupboard he checked.
"There is a lady present Bucky."
Rolling his eyes James took the proffered offerings and quickly pulled on the garments.
"I don't think broads care all too much about male nudity nowadays Steve. You been to Times Square recently? Some guy called Calvin Klein ain't too afraid to show off his boxer shorts."
Steve shook his head in his exasperation, "That's not the point Bucky."
James huffed, "I got dressed didn't I?"
"Victoria, are you uh… decent?" Steve called through the now closed door to the blonde's bedroom. Despite it all Steve couldn't help the red tinge that crept into his cheeks.
"I'm fine!" Victoria yelled back, keeping her voice as singsong as possible.
"Jesus Steve, you are aware you look like a Greek god personified, and you still have issues with dames?"
"Quit raggin' on me." Steve growled under his breath, on reflex his fist shooting out to tap James on the arm.
Stumbling ever so slightly James sent Captain America a sidelong glance.
"Punk."
The familiar word was muttered with such carelessness Steve had to check himself. He remained silent, unwilling to let the balloon of hope expand in his chest. He had stormed into Victoria's bathroom after Jarvis had alerted him to James' distress. He may now be interacting with what was the closest thing to Bucky since his reunion with his friend but there was no denying that moments earlier James had been in the throes of a vicious night terror.
Every so often Steven would wake dripping, the nightmare only just chased away by his early morning coffee and jog. Memories of the war, the attack on New York and most recently his fevered imaginings of what might have happened to Bucky rendered some of his nights restless. But Bucky had spent seventy years under the control of HYDRA and the Soviets – with no opportunity for downtime and no chance given to process what he'd been made to do, James was undoubtedly in a worse position than he was.
And there was no denying that whatever Bucky had experienced had left deep scars on his psyche, no matter how present his friend was now, didn't alter the fact that he was prone to blackouts. The sheer trauma his mind had been put through and the routine memory scrubbings had left a mish mash of personalities behind. Bucky Barnes was buried somewhere beneath the years of programming but Steve was only just beginning to realize the amount of work and time it would take for that man to emerge. And as to whether he would ever regain what he'd lost completely remained to be seen.
"Steve, I…" James began, his eyes fixed firmly to the floor as he inched forwards. "Thank you for helping me. I tried to kill you on more than one occasion…." James' breath hitched in his throat, a pained look flitting across his features betraying his discomfort at voicing his opinion. "You could have kicked me to the curb but you didn't."
"Remember…" Steve began, his gaze hard as he span his friend round to face him.
"The end of the line… I know." James nodded mutely, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.
"So no thanks necessary. Besides, how many times did you look after me when I was sick?"
"I don't remember…" James replied softly as a sudden melancholy filled him, the life that he had lived with Steve infuriatingly just out of his grasp.
Finally the two men walked into the living room, Victoria sat somewhat nervously on the edge of the sofa, her nails scratching at the leather upholstery.
"Sorry about barging in on you." Steve was first to speak, his eyes wide with heart felt sincerity.
"Don't worry about it," Victoria shrugged carelessly. "Nothing untoward was happening."
"To my eternal shame," James teased as he slumped onto the sofa next to her. The closest thing to a grin James could manage was playing on the man's lips as his hand carelessly skimmed Victoria's leg.
"I told Banner that James was using my room, I probably should have cleared it with you as well." Victoria addressed Steve, doing her best to ignore the presence of the man next to her.
"I asked Jarvis to keep me informed," Steve scratched the back of his neck.
Glancing at the clock Victoria sighed, "It's just gone 5 o'clock. There's no point going back to bed – anyone up for breakfast?"
"You cookin' sweetheart?" James inquired, this time there was an unmistakable waggle about his eyebrows.
"You can at least make eggs can't you Barnes?" Victoria questioned as she hoisted herself to her feet, her eyebrow raised in challenge.
"I might be little rusty."
"We'll manage – together." Steve interjected diplomatically.
The three figures assembled in the communal kitchen waited with baited breath, the sizzle of butter as cool eggs ran into the pan assailed their ears.
"Stir it." Steve insisted. His keen eyes narrowed at the pan as if it were a nuclear bomb that only he could disarm, thus saving all of uptown Manhattan.
"No," James shook his head swatting at Steve with a free hand. "You need to let them cook a little bit first.
Victoria covered her mouth with her hand in an effort to hide her smile, busying herself with the toast she glanced over at the two men.
"I didn't realise making eggs had to be conducted like a military operation." Victoria called out sardonically, her brown eyes dancing with humour.
"It don't," James shook his head in disgust. "Steve here's just a back seat driver."
Wooden spoon in hand James deftly stirred the eggs; a hiss of relief from Steve accompanied the ex assassin's actions.
"Keep stirring – they'll stick."
"They won't stick." James rolled his eyes. "Goddammit Steve, quit hoverin' would you?"
"Fine." Steve bit back as he began to pull plates from off the rack. "I'll lay the table."
"Thanks Steve." Victoria beamed just as she placed a cafetiere on the table, the coffee granules swirling in the hot water.
"As promised, perfectly cooked eggs." James crowed as he sailed past Steve, placing a pile of steaming eggs on each plate. Grabbing the bacon he completed a second circuit of the table, grilled mushrooms and tomatoes followed. Putting the now full toast rack on the table Victoria sat down.
"Anyone for coffee?" Steve questioned, as he plunged the cafetiere. Noticing the identical looks Victoria and James sent him the super soldier muttered under his breath. "Right, of course. Stupid question."
"Whatever that is, it smells good."
Victoria's head jerked upwards at the stranger's voice. Standing at the threshold to the kitchen stood a red head. A small travel bag slung over her shoulder as she surveyed the scene.
"Natasha," Steve smiled. "Didn't expect you."
"Thought I'd drop by."
James had remained curiously silent during the exchange. It was only when Victoria dragged her eyes back to Barnes that she noticed he had got to his feet, his right hand still clutching the table knife he had been eating with. Natasha's eyes fluttered towards James, a tremor of recognition flitting across her features before it was carefully snatched away and hidden behind a beautiful impenetrable mask.
"Romanova."
"Soldat."
A/N: Sorry this chapter was a bit filler-y and possibly had what was verging dangerously close to fluff. I just need to break it up a little bit as more drama/angst is to come.
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Hope you enjoyed this latest offering.