Disclaimer: I own nothing and this is my head-canon.
James Buchanan Barnes: A Winter Soldier Story
Chapter 25 – Re-integration
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Listen to "You" by Seinabo Sey
"Natasha…" James dragged out the last vowel into a groan, rubbing his eyes because he was groggy and because she was on top of him and because to hell with it she was being stubborn. "Stop tempting me." He laid an arm over his eyes, trying unsuccessfully to shift his legs beneath her seat, but even blocking his view wasn't helping—He couldn't help but lick his lips in anticipation of that sweet taste…
"I tried waking you up nicely about an hour ago, but you wouldn't have it." He heard her snicker. "If you don't leave those sheets, I'll have to take care of this myself." James could practically hear the seductive rising of her eyebrow.
"No, you won't." She's bluffing. She has to be. "You wouldn't rob me like that." He couldn't stifle the moan that left his throat. No point in denying the truth, he wanted it badly…
Her weight started shifting away from him and he threw his arm away from his face, eyes snapping open. "Don't eat my chocolate!"
Natasha dangled the wrapper in the air, standing at the edge of the bed. "Pants," She held them up. "Put them on and come watch the sun rise with me. Then I'll surrender the chocolate."
The low growl at the back of his throat wasn't threatening—he'd never direct his anger at her like that—but it did embody just how enthusiastic he was about waking early. The pants were on in moments, followed by a black, cotton v-neck shirt, and after running his fingers through his newly-cut hair James was out of bed and snatching the bar of chocolate from Natasha's outstretched hand—
—but not before he planted a messy kiss on her lips, causing her to pull away from him and wipe her hand across her mouth.
"Ouch," She murmured with a good-natured smile. Oops. Stubble. He'd forgotten about that.
"Let's go see this sunrise of yours so I can shave and go back to being smooth and suave."
So gentle was her touch and so quickly did she catch his hand that it wasn't until she was pulling him forward that he realized their fingers were interlocked. If it had been anyone else, he would have flinched at the contact or removed himself from the controlling nature of the action. But Natasha's green eyes held nothing more than the need to share something she loved with someone she—
"I love you," He blurted out as they tip-toed down the hall toward the entertainment room. Red hair bounced as she walked without skipping a beat, her face turning to lock him in her gaze, and Natasha grinned that curious half-smile that just about killed him. The pressure of her hand on his tightened and she licked her lips a short moment before smiling widely at him and whispering, "You, too."
If someone had told him ten months ago that he would be lucky enough to carelessly watch the sun rise with a beautiful woman, he probably would have accused them of outright lying before threatening bodily harm against them.
"Good morning," an unfamiliar voice said from the kitchen.
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Listen to "Ticking Bomb" by Aloe Blacc
James' limbs seized at the sound of the intruder's voice and he dropped Natasha's hand, reaching for the pocket knife at his right and swiveling his head to assess how many viable targets there were—Natasha was safe behind his left arm, where he'd pinned her gently between himself and the wall—neither of them were wearing thick clothing, let alone armor, but there was a doorway he could nudge Natasha through if gunfire became an issue, and he trusted her to find a weapon and alert the others in a timely manner—he needed to decide between venturing further out into a more exposed position or guarding Natasha's vulnerable body.
"James," Her hand was running down his arm in what was supposed to be a calming movement, but his muscles tensed under the touch and he barked out a quick, "What?" before allowing himself to take his eyes off of the kitchen and look down at her.
"It's okay," She stepped out from behind him and he resisted the urge to throw her back against the wall. Enemy. Unsafe. Aren't you tracking that, Natasha? His blazing eyes tried to communicate to her, but hers were saying something different.
I'm safe. You're safe. Misunderstanding. She took a few steps toward the kitchen and James fought every fire-pained nerve not to leap in front of her, planting his tingling feet where they were.
"It's just Nick," She waved James over.
A strangled breath left James' lungs and he flexed his right hand to get it to stop trembling after that unexpected, yet powerful adrenaline rush. He was having trouble moving his feet and was inwardly cursing himself for being so slow, but Natasha broke through his lapse and took his hand, much as she had before, and led him into the kitchen.
"Merciful God— tell me you're not moving in, too." James raised his lip in a snear at Nick.
A thought prickled at the back of his mind. Had Natasha woken him early to meet with Nick or to watch the sunrise? Had she set this up? That didn't sound right and one look at Natasha's scowl made him shove that doubt away. No, Natasha hadn't set this up. She looked disappointed. They had gone from a carefree, almost-normal morning in which they could at least pretend to be a normal couple, to…
"What do you want?" James freed the mangled wrapper of chocolate from where he'd crammed it into his pocket. He was too keyed up for chocolate and coffee now.
"Hmph." Nick answered, pawing through the contents of the cupboard. "While that doesn't sound much like a thank you, I'll say 'you're welcome' anyway."
James rolled his eyes. "Somehow I feel like you telling me Natasha was in trouble was less of a favor to me and more of a favor to you."
"I wasn't in trouble," Natasha interjected, crossing her arms and leaning her hip against the countertop. James inwardly moaned—why did she have to look so amazing and tempting right now?
"If I hadn't asked you to stop them from scrambling her brains and turning her into the next Winter Soldier, we'd be having a completely different conversation right now."
If there was one thing James appreciated about Fury, it was that the man didn't care for small-talk and didn't treat James like he was about to fall apart—but Nick had chosen the wrong morning and the wrong red-headed lover to pick on.
"She wouldn't have let them," James snarled, gritting his teeth and leaning threateningly close to the dark man's face as Nick turned around. "She could have taken down every single one of them by herself—the only reason she didn't is because I showed up and she had another person to keep track of." He backed away, expression falling, and eyes tentatively meeting hers from where she stood to the left of Fury. Nick looked unimpressed.
But Natasha looked touched. As though she had no idea the amount of confidence James had in her. He mentally kicked himself. They'd been so caught up in his disappearance to Asgard that what had happened in the sewers hadn't once come up.
"While that's probably true, you both got back safely." Nick apparently found what he wanted in the cupboard and started scooping coffee grounds into the filter of the coffee-maker. James had never touched that machine and was heaving a sigh of relief that Nick hadn't gone for the French press. That was Steve's French press and Nick had already stepped on too many figurative toes that morning for James to keep his cool for much longer.
"Nick, we've got things to do," Natasha's patient voice grated against James' nerves. She didn't have to be so kind to him. "Was there something you needed help with?"
"I'm here to help you," Nick poured water into the coffee machine and pressed a button, turning around to face them fully and bringing out a handful of folded papers from his jacket. "Or, more specifically, I'm here to help Captain America." He held out the papers to James, but pulled them to his chest and looked the former assassin in the eye, adding, "A favor for a favor." And then he held out the papers to James again.
The coffee-maker sputtered and spit brownish liquid, which James assumed passed for coffee, into the glass container while he fingered through the papers, brows scrunching together. There were pictures of Steve, in and out of uniform, and there were words written in code beside each of the pictures—one of them being a picture of Steve before the super-soldier serum. The old photo struck a chord in James, the scantest flash of a memory—throwing an arm over the shorter man's shoulder and slapping the newspaper against his chest, announcing that on his last night before shipping out, they were going to see a science exhibit—and then James turned his eyes up to Nick.
"Am I supposed to know what this is?" There was no venom in his voice, just the curiosity of a man who had forgotten and remembered too much and too little for one lifetime.
"No," Nick shook his head, grasping the handle of the coffee mug and blowing on the hot contents before taking a sip. "But this information is most valuable to you. Hydra's not the only cranky bastard trying to get their hands on you, Natasha, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner, Tony Stark—any of you, really. But anyone connected with the super-soldier serum will need to watch their back for a good long while."
"Have you cracked this code yet?" James shuffled the papers, looking for a translation.
"Not yet. Don't exactly have a whole department dedicated to that sort of thing anymore," Nick smiled wryly. "I'm just me. A man with resources. And my resources brought this to my attention. Someone is after Steve."
"You said 'favor for a favor'," James face scrunched into heavy skepticism. "What's the favor you're askin' me for?"
"Protection," Nick sipped the last remnants of his coffee—the cup was startlingly empty and James assumed that Nick had lost his tongue's sense of heat or taste. "For Steve Rogers. Something you were planning on doing anyway. But something easier done if you're out in the field with him."
James shook his head, staring at the ground and letting out an ironic laugh. "I knew this was coming. I just didn't think I'd let you sell it to me so fast."
"So, you're in?" Nick set the mug down in the sink.
"I'd do anything for Steve." James murmured reluctantly, wishing Nick would just get out of the tower and leave me alone with Natasha! and knowing the steps of logic in his head. "Super-muscles or not, he's got a nose for trouble and I won't let it take a bite outta' him."
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Listen to "This Night" by Black Lab
When James approached Steve to talk about joining the Avengers on missions, his friend was all-too-willing to accept, the gleeful smile on his face enough to break James' heart. But then they got to the heart of the matter and Steve's optimism faded. Whomever it was that was looking for Steve would probably just as easily settle for the former Winter Soldier. James wasn't as concerned for his own safety as Steve's, but that had always been the problem with their relationship.
"We're just two goons who don't know how to take care of ourselves, but we can carry the other guy over our shoulder at a moment's notice." Steve shook his head. "I don't like this, Buck. But… I know I can't ask you to sit in this tower forever." He rolled his eyes. "Much as I'd like to."
"Yeah, yeah," Today was a brave day, and that meant initiating physical contact—James clapped a hand over Steve's shoulder.
That evening was full of nightmares. They weren't memories re-emerging or a past life made clearer, they were fears of what was ahead. Steve, lying broken and bloody in James' arms. Natasha burnt alive. Sam falling out of the sky with one wing. Even images of Thor being ripped apart. And then there was snow. So much snow. And it was burying James alive…
He shivered under the blanket, muscles tensing as he reached up to take his face in his hands. Not again, not that dream again. Freezing. Too much ice. Was he in the cryogenics tank? Or was he falling from the train? Maybe he was in Russia again… cold. Too cold. He tried, really he did, not to shudder so hard that it woke Natasha, but she seemed much too in-tune with him to ignore that shaking sensation of the mattress.
"James," Her hand was warm on his shoulder. "What's…? You're freezing."
He wanted to shrug off her hand, to tell her it was okay, just go back to sleep, but he knew she wouldn't leave him alone until he responded to her. His mouth wouldn't open, though. Too cold. But, bless her, Natasha didn't offer to draw up a hot bath, she didn't insist that he put on more layers, and she didn't get up to grab more blankets. She just… scooted closer to him and pressed soft kisses to his neck before settling herself back to sleep at his side, an arm and a leg draping over him casually, as though she weren't trying to warm him up. Clever woman.
James could ride a fine line between embarrassment and anger, and the usual reaction he elicited – someone trying to baby him or act like he couldn't handle what was going on—only exacerbated that struggle. Natasha and Thor seemed to be the only ones that understood his unspoken plea: treat me like I'm normal and I'll respond normally.
Natasha's body heat was helping, but James couldn't stop shivering from the residual cold of the dream. In a quick movement, Natasha reached down to the foot of the bed and pulled something up and over him. Oh. The cloak. The weight of it was comforting. His own personal cocoon.
"Better?" Natasha whispered from where her nose brushed against his collar bone. The touch made him shudder, but at least this time it wasn't from cold.
"Mm-hm." His fingers twitched against her shoulder, stroking the soft skin there and grounding himself in the scent of her shampoo and the weight of the cloak. The chill was gone and he was blessedly warm once more.
"I love you." She nibbled at his ear.
"You, too…"
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Listen to "Lost In The Echo - Instrumental" by Linkin Park
James wasn't supposed to be on the ground with the rest of them, but circumstances had forced him from his perch at the tallest building, away from his high-powered rifle. Clint and Natasha had been pinned down in the open square by multiple Demolition Men – is that really what they were calling themselves?—and Tony had been too busy dismantling a bomb to lend assistance, so that only left Banner and Rogers.
"Captain…?" James let the word linger in the air, that unspoken question that wasn't quite asking for permission, but was definitely an offer. Steve reluctantly agreed, outnumbered by a hoard of the D-Men and too far to get there in time.
The skies darkened as James slashed out at numerous foes, a wave of relief running through his spine as lightning swept downwards and fried five Demolition Men. Seriously—who were these morons and why were they wielding construction tools? It didn't matter, whatever bone they'd decided to pick with the Avengers, they had come fully prepared.
Thor roared and threw out his hammer as Clint's arrows flew through the air, but it was Natasha's electric armbands that caught James' eye. What she couldn't supply in strength, she more than made up for with precise motion and electric current. If only he had a moment to watch her graceful form…
"Soldier!" One of the Demolition-Men shouted. "Hydra sends its regards!" And then the man began to speak to him in Russian, wooing that skulking predator that lurked at the back of James' head, ushering it to the forefront of his mind to unleash its sickly sweet rage.
While the fighting continued around him, James' steps faltered and he stood as though bound by shackles. He had forgotten those words, that enthralling and terrible spell over his conscience, but another song of magic had already begun.
Thor's loud and booming voice uttered words in an alien tongue, a menacing threat against the one who had used the trigger words against James and a chant to press back the Winter Soldier, but somehow James knew the meaning of Thor's strange intonation:
Back, back, back—into the depths again, to sleep and sleep some more—down into the ocean with you and your uncivil tongue, brawl no more this day and cease to fight the shell you stand in. Peace. Learn the quiet well and rest until you are bidden to return—you will come again, but not this day. Back, back, back.
The tune lulled the dark menace in James' head and he drooped under the weight of the words, as though his physical form embodied the mental slinking back of the Winter Soldier. Hands held him upright and his mind cleared, head swinging forward as he returned to his center of gravity. He couldn't tell who was helping him to stand, but Thor stood before him, hand outstretched to him with that fatherly expression James had secretly become so reliant on.
"There is still more to do, my friend," Thor grinned at him. James clapped his hand against Thor's, greeting him the way the Asgardian had taught previously, and took a deep breath to clear his senses and jump back into the fight. It was a brilliant tactic on Thor's part - to coax him back into battle instead of allowing him to rest - and it reminded James of something someone had said a long time ago:
"If you fall off of the horse, you get right back into that saddle—or else the fear'll try to tell you not to set on the horse again. Better to look that fear in the eye while you're in the saddle, that way you can kick that doubt right in the backside and tell it to go running back to hell."
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re`int`e`gra`tion: the process of returning the mind to an cohesive state after it has been deranged by phychosis / the process of recalling an entire memory from a partial cue, as remembering a speech upon hearing the first few words.
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Sick writer is sick. *sniff* I have a special place in my heart for Linkin Park's instrumental pieces :)
I have posted sketches on my Tumblr! My name is The Spartan Bird and my profile pic is a leafy broach of the Tolkien symbol. Since fan fic .net doesn't like links, I'll give you the link with spaces between the dots and slashes (I hope you can find them easily enough):
The first sketch is my visualization of what Natasha's face must have looked like when she took a moment to check out James during the fight with Hydra:
the-spartan-bird.tumblr.com(slash)image(slash)125128448381
The second sketch is how I pictured James and Steve having their coffee-snob moment right after the return from Asgard:
the-spartan-bird . tumblr . com (slash) image (slash) 125128360036
There are other sketches on my tumblr, apply them as you like to the story, but they were just doodles. I've got more coming (as I'm inspired), and please be nice with your criticism.
Response to chapter 24 reviews:
TardisAJB: Thank you very much!
Qweb: Naw, I wish the happy could last for longer, but I need reality in my stories.
Avengers2015: Me, too! There isn't enough WinterWidow in my opinion!
NativeSpinner: :D! Well, thank you very much! I hope you continue to enjoy it as we go!
KnowInsight: You bring up a good point, but since Marvel hasn't acknowledged those universes as being the same, I don't want to complicate things…
Mmelody6: :D! :D!
Steve r0gers: Thank you thank you thank you! Balance is what I'm aiming for!
Thank you to everyone following and favoriting this story! For sketches to this story, look for The Spartan Bird on Tumblr :)