He smiled a little grimly, looking at his friend and Sam who were talking quietly on the bench, then he turned on his heel and walked away, not wanting to disturb them. Looking at his friend and Sam, who were talking quietly on the bench, then he turned on his heel and walked away, not wanting to disturb them. He was glad that Steve had finally found happiness with his beloved. After all, he deserved it. As he passed the Stark family cottage, he saw a lonely figure by the lake. Wanda. She was sitting on a bench, staring at the dark, calm depths. It was obvious that she was sad. He hesitated, wondering whether to go over and talk to her or maybe he'd better leave her alone.
But she had to feel him somehow, because she turned to face him with a slight smile. and muttered:- "James"
"Hey" he whispered as he joined her. "Steve just came back ... Eighty or something," he smirked.-
"You wish it was you?" she replied with a question.
"No," he shook his head firmly. - "No. He is my friend and he deserves this happiness."
"Yes, but you deserve them too ... He didn't choose you"
"I think Sam would be better suited for this role ... I've done too much wrong in my life to take over from Stevie ... And as for luck ... maybe. I do not know."
"Steve talked a lot about you ... He was very sorry that he hadn't stopped you from going to the front then." He blamed himself for making the Hydra get you."-
"It's not true!" he denied vehemently. - After all, I was only doing my duty to the country! It's not his fault they found me when ... I fell in the Alps."
"He felt sorry for that too ... that he failed to grab you," she whispered.-
"A bottomless donkey!" he growled.
"But you loved him anyway, didn't you?" - she smiled a bit.
"For as long as I can remember," he laughed at the mere mention of their youth. - "Just don't get me wrong. Yes, I love Steve, but like a brother ... We're not gay."
"I do not judge you. Every love is worth being."- "And you? How are you?" - He asked.
"I thought he would come back with us," she sighed. "But it looks like it couldn't be brought back to life."
"You miss him so much"
"Yes. He was the first man I cared so much for. He helped me recover from my brother's death" She said, holding back tears.
He noticed "Would you like a drink?" He offered softly. "It helps sometimes"
"I'd like to," she smiled slightly. He gave her a hand ...
Steve's old apartment was perfect for that kind of chat. Equipped with a supply of alcohol, they sat down on the worn-out couch.
"Have you ever loved someone? Besides Steve?" - she asked him after some time.
"I did not have the opportunity ... During the Second World War I focused mainly on fighting and ... pickups" he cleared his throat a bit embarrassed. "And then there was no way to feel anymore. I only had a short episode in Hydra, which ended unpleasantly for the two of us ... And our characters differed."
"Widow?"
"Did she tell you?" he asked, a bit surprised, sipping his whiskey. He couldn't get drunk on that anyway "Damn serum!"
"I saw the way she looked at you."
"We were just lovers. We never had anything else in common."
"She obviously loved you anyway."
"I do not know. Nat didn't like to talk about her feelings, and then ... I didn't say much either ... Now I won't find out anything."
"I'm sorry, James ... really."
Me too. Because of Vision and your family"
"Thank you," she smiled slightly.
He nodded, staring silently at the contents of his glass, then drank it all at once.
"You'll get drunk in a moment," she smiled.
"Very willingly, but it's impossible," he muttered grimly, pouring himself more.
"Why?" she became interested.
"By Hydra's experiments. They primed me with some kind of serum that ... turned me up a lot. A perfect soldier, he knows no fear, no pain, no higher feelings" he grimaced slightly. "My wounds heal almost immediately, my metabolism is accelerated, so my body immediately reduces the effects of alcohol ... I would have to drink ... From a tank of pure vodka to feel some effects. Though I am not 100% sure of that either."
"I'm not entirely normal either," she remarked with a faint smile.
"Are you talking about all these?" He waved his fingers, as she often did.
"Yes..."
"You're more normal than me anyway, Wanda."
"We were brought up by the same organization," she murmured grimly.
"Yes, but no one has ever tortured you. They didn't erase your memories with electric shocks. You still remember your family and my head is still full of white spots that I have no way of filling."
"Actually...i have been tortured." She said, remembering the
"You have?" He said a bit concerned
"Yeah In Hydra and with the shock collar. If you wanted to, I could probably help you with Your memories ... Maybe even delete those memories you don't want to have anymore. Or ease your pain. Help you to come to terms with them" she offered gently.
"I'm afraid you might scare my memories."
"It doesn't hurt to try"
"Maybe someday," he smiled and kissed her hand.
"It's only a suggestion, you don't have to use it," she blushed slightly. He stroked the back of his hand with his thumb.
"You're good, Wanda. It's nice to talk like that"
"Yes"
There was a moment of silence between them, during which they both plunged into their not very pleasant thoughts. Suddenly, however, Bucky got up and walked like a man in lethargy to the shelf with the records.
"What's happening?" She looked at him uncertainly as he looked through the packages.
"It's the music of my time" he grinned, showing her a vinyl record. " Would you like to dance?"
"I'm not a very good dancer" she smiled apologetically.
"It's okay, I'll lead you." Still grinning disarmingly at her, he reached over to her and held out his hand. "Come on."
Finally she let herself be persuaded and got up from the couch. He wrapped his arms around her waist, driving her in time. She blushed slightly, trying with all her strength not to step on his foot.
"Relax" he muttered with a highly mischievous smile. "Get carried away by the music and don't think about the steps."
"Then I will trample you for sure"
- "Relax, I'm not made of glass. You can tread on me as much as you want."
"You do dance really well," she murmured, surrendering completely to him.
"I used to dance a lot," he smiled. "Such parties helped to forget about hard times. There was a war, I did not come from a wealthy family"
"Will you tell?"
"Actually, there is not much to tell here ... I lived with my mother, younger sister and ... father. He might not even be there."
"Why"
"He drank ... and beat. My mother, when she stood up for us, and after her death, when I didn't let Becca hurt. I'm glad he finally choked to death."
"It's sad."
"That's the life," he muttered, still turning to the music with her. The closeness of her body filled him with a strange calmness. She gently snuggled up against his chest, closing her eyes.
"Maybe you'd like to go to bed already? A long day is behind us."
"I'd like to, but where are you going to sleep?"
"Here, this couch seems to be folding out."
"It's not very comfortable here," she glanced uncertainly at the piece of furniture.
"Relax, it was not in such conditions that I slept at the front. Besides, it is a woman who deserves luxuries, and a man's role is to provide them."
"You're a gentleman" she kissed his cheek.
"Old accretions"
"And it is thanks to them that you are so special " she said still quietly and went to the bedroom. Bucky made his bed for himself on the couch and soon fell asleep deeply. And restlessly.
Some time later, his screams woke her. Worried, she walked over to his room. Bucky was throwing himself on the couch, moaning out loud but indistinctly. His bare torso and face glistened with sweat. He was having another nightmare about his training in Hydra. She sighed softly, kneeling beside him, and with her powers began to influence what he dreamed. She was no longer surprised he was screaming. Memories of the tortures he had been subjected to, and the many murders he had committed but could not remember, drove his weakened mind to madness. Eventually, however, he calmed down as he relaxed his clenched left hand. He sighed in his sleep and began to breathe more calmly. She smiled slightly and returned to herself. He slept peacefully that night ...
In the morning he was awakened by the smell of fried eggs and bacon. Still dressed only in pants, barefoot and with disheveled hair, he slowly entered the kitchen where Wanda was making breakfast for them. Dressed in one of Steve's shirts, which reached mid-thigh, she looked like a goddess. For him. Bucky smiled slightly.
"Good morning," he muttered, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe.
"Hey," she turned to face him with a smile. "Did you sleep well?"
"Exceptionally good," he admitted. "I had some nightmares, but..."
"I blocked them," she cut him off with a gentle smile, pouring their juice into their glasses.
"What? Why?"
"Because no one deserves such suffering, James" she replied, serving them a meal. "Enjoy your meal."
"You are surprising me? We barely know each other and you help me so much."
"You helped me too."
"When? And what?"
"Conversation and this moment of normality ... a dance."
"How could I help you when, if I remember correctly, we mostly talked about me?" he wondered, sitting down.
"That's why, James. I stopped thinking about the suffering Thanos had inflicted on me."
"Oh"
"And thank you."
"You really don't have to. And if you've managed to block my nightmares, then you've probably seen them ... You know what I've become"
"You're still human, James, and I'm going to help you."
"Why?" he was amazed.
"Because I know you have to. It's not about pity, it's about cooperation, James ... Besides here ... Here I am able to have a little peace. You seem to want it too."
"Yes. I want peace ... Normal life, as long as it is even possible with the luggage of my experience", he muttered, breaking the egg with a fork.
"So let me help you, James."
"Please ... Call me Bucky," he smiled.