A/N please excuse any spelling errors! It's late and I'm tired lol
...Kit...
For the third day in a row I'm stuck in the med bay of the compound for hours with Vision and Bruce Banner. They've asked me more than a dozen times how the serums took control of me; what it felt like. I'm growing weary of the questioning and I can see that Vision is picking up on that, but Banner is relentless. He's so enthralled with these serums that he seems to forget that I already had to live through these horrors once.
"Thank you, Katherine," Vision's soft voice breaks through the fog filling my brain and I look up into his kind eyes. How can an android show such human emotions? I wonder briefly before I decide I don't really care and shrug it off. Vision places a gentle hand on my shoulder and offers me a small smile. "You may go now. I believe Dr. Banner and I have enough first hand information to go at it on our own from here."
"Great," I stand up and stretch backwards until I hear a quiet crack and give Banner a two finger salute that I'm sure he doesn't even catch before exiting the room. It still feels so strange to me that just over a week ago I was tied to a chair and tortured and yet the world kept spinning and the sun kept shining. I'm staring out the large floor to ceiling windows contemplating my smallness and feeling vulnerable in the vastness of this planet when Natasha seems to materialize at my shoulder.
"Hey," her voice is low.
"Why is everyone talking to me like I'm a beaten puppy they're afraid is going to bite?" I don't look away from the window to face her. I don't want to see the look in her eyes so instead I stare out at the almost blinding sunlight and test myself to see how long I can go without blinking. She doesn't turn to look at me either and I'm thankful for that. I see her shrug one shoulder out of the corner of my eye.
"Probably because it's true. You may not be a puppy, but I'm still a little worried you're gonna bite." Her tone is joking as she tries to lighten the mood. I seem to carry this dark cloud everywhere with me now and I appreciate her humor.
"I might," I concede. "If the right person asks nicely." I see her smile at my words and feel the cloud lifting a little bit. "It just feels so heavy right now. Everything does," I clarify.
"I get that," she finally turns towards me. "But it gets better. It just takes a while. In the mean time it's okay to lean on your friends. And we are your friends, Kit. Whether you want to believe it or not, we are. Well. Most of us. Maybe not Tony. But I don't think he has any friends besides Pepper. If you come out and join us for dinner tonight, you might find that to be true." She nudges my shoulder a little bit and I sigh.
"I don't really do the whole... gathering around the table with the fam thing."
"Trust me, I know. But just try it tonight. We try to keep some form of normalcy around here and this might help you get back to a version of your normal."
"I don't even know what my normal is anymore, Nat." The dark cloud is threatening to smother me again.
"So why don't we figure that out? Together." And then she does something that shocks me. She doesn't even hesitate before she wraps her arms around my shoulders and pulls me into a tight hug. The sudden contact catches me off guard and my first instinct is to freeze and pull away, which I do partially. I feel every muscle in my body go tense as I stiffen up. I don't think that Natasha has ever hugged me. Despite how close we were in the Red Room we would have never given the other a hug. Not that it wasn't allowed, it just didn't seem like the right place for such gestures. She squeezes her arms tightly around my shoulders and it's then that I nearly melt into her. I wrap my arms around her waist and press my face into her shoulder, surprised at how badly I needed this. I feel tears well up in my eyes and furiously blink them away. In her embrace I feel the dark cloud fully lift away and take an unsteady breath.
"Okay, fine," I concede with a shaky, watery laugh. "I'll come to your stupid dinner party."
"Not a party," she says wryly. "Well, sometimes it feels like a party. It depends on how much we get Clint to drink." She is the first to pull away from the hug to quirk an eyebrow at me, but she doesn't fully release me until I take a step away from her. "I have a dress you can borrow." I'm not sure how I feel about the glint in her eye that makes me feel like I may have made a grave mistake in agreeing to this.
...Bucky...
Steve has dragged me to one too many of the "dinners" that Tony puts together for the Avengers. I use the term dinner loosely as it usually is just finger foods with lots of liquor. Alcohol lost it's appeal to me in the 40's since it has little to no effect on my body. I still have a drink or two just because I do happen to enjoy the taste, but I don't usually go beyond that as it seems pointless to me. Steve abstains all together. He was never one for drinking anyways so this doesn't surprise me.
I have to give it to Tony though, he does have the perfect set up for these kinds of things. He invites all the Avengers over and everyone gathers in a huge, open room with a fully stocked bar off to one side. Nat usually pours the drinks for everyone but when Steve and I arrive tonight no one stands behind the bar.
"Where's Nat?" I hear Clint ask as he sidesteps the counter to help himself to the drinks stored behind it.
"Getting started already, Barton?" Tony jokes from the table he is setting food out on.
"Someone needs to get you drunk so you're nice to everyone," Clint fires back.
I hate to admit it, but the atmosphere during these get togethers almost make me feel like a normal person. It's easy to forget the outside world and the threats that lie out there when the quick witted banter inside is so light and carefree. I find myself smiling along with Steve as he picks at Peter Parker for not being able to join in the festivities. Steve slaps the back of Peter's shoulder as he laughs loudly at something Peter said to him that I missed.
Almost everyone is here and despite the comfortable atmosphere I drift off to the edge of the crowd and sit on a barstool and just act as witness to the events in front of me. I'm most comfortable sitting on the outskirts and not interacting much. I overhear Clint ask for the second or third time tonight where Natasha is and I glance around the room to find that both Natasha and Kit are missing from the roster. I swirl the clear liquor in my cup and take a swig of it as Steve takes the seat next to me.
As if summoned by my very thoughts, Natasha enters the room and breezes down the couple of steps into the center of the space to sling an arm around Clint's shoulders. "Heard my name. I was busy getting a friend ready." With her words, she turns and lifts her chin slightly towards the doorway she just walked through. For the first time I see Kit walking slowly into the room, looking unsure of herself. I inhale sharply at the sight of her which is unfortunate timing as I had just tipped the remainder of my drink into my mouth and was swallowing it as I caught sight of her. The tequila burns as it goes down the wrong hole and I choke on it. Coughing and gasping for air, I spin on the stool away from Kit and slam the glass onto the bar top, shattering it in the process. I feel a heavy hand banging against my back just between my shoulder blades as Steve barely keeps his laughter under control.
"You alright, pal?" He asks through a wide grin.
"Shut up," I manage to get out between fits of coughing. When I finally manage to clear out my lungs, I take great gasping breaths to reassure my stupid body that I am not, in fact, drowning. I clear my throat one last time and look at Steve to my right, he still wears that dumb grin. "Rogers, you are the bane of my existence," I say through my teeth.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he says innocently, that stupid smirk still on his face. "Anyways, did you happen to see Kit come in?" In one fluid motion he grabs my shoulder and pushing hard on it, he spins me around in my bar stool and slings his arm around my shoulder. "Doesn't she look nice?" I clench my teeth together and can feel the muscle in my jaw ticking as I try to regain my composure.
"She does," I agree slowly. She stands across from Wanda and Vision, picking at some of the finger foods they offered to her and giving them what I would call a courtesy smile. It doesn't quite reach her eyes, but the curve of her lips swathed in a deep red lipstick, does something to me. Very aware of Steve staring at me as I stare at her, I resituate in my chair and lean away from his piercing eyes. Kit is wearing a form fitting, dark green dress that hits his just below the knee. It has a devastatingly high slit up the side that reveals the soft skin of her thighs almost all the way up to her hip and an even more scandalous dip in the back, leaving almost her entire back exposed. Her dark hair falls in soft curls around her shoulders. Most surprising of all she wears a pair of black heels that make the muscles in her legs stand out. She accepts a drink from Natasha as she passes by her and the Maximoff's, she turns and I see her lips move as she thanks Nat. That's when she sees me staring at her. I almost look away from her, embarrassed to be so caught up in her, but her smile softens a little as her eyes meet mine and just before she gives me a quick wink, I note that the smile touches her eyes finally. But good god that wink nearly kills me.
Clearing my throat again, I break eye contact and spin back towards the bar and sweep the glass from my dead cup into a pile. Anything to occupy myself as I sort through what I'm feeling. I still don't have a good grasp on what it is about her that makes me fumble awkwardly. And it irritates me. I finish gathering the glass shards and stand to throw them away in the trash behind the bar.
"Why don't you go talk to her?" Steve asks as he leans onto his forearms on the counter.
"Steven. Please leave me alone." The only way to describe the noise that leaves Steve's mouth is a cackle. He cackles at me. Rolling my eyes, I pour myself another drink even though I know the action is futile. This won't do anything to calm my nerves on a real level, but perhaps it will have some kind of placebo effect.
...Kit...
I caught sight of Bucky and Steve when Natasha handed me a glass of whiskey and the look on Bucky's face delighted me in ways that surprised me. I was skeptical when Natasha insisted I wear her clothes, but the awe in his eyes made me thankful that I finally gave in and let her play dress up. She put on minimal make up and insisted on running a curling wand through my hair. Feeling bold, I wink at Bucky and as the color drained from his face I saw Steve lean back in his chair laughing loudly and grasping his chest as if he is worried he might burst with the force of his exuberance. Wanda and Vision are doing their best to make me feel included and welcome here, but I still feel like the black sheep. I swirl my cup around before quickly downing the golden brown whiskey and heading over towards the boys as Bucky retreats behind the bar and begins to pour himself a drink.
"Trying to be irresponsible, Barnes?" I ask as I slide onto the stool that he previously occupied. Steve leans towards me and I wrap an arm around his waist in greeting.
"Bucky was never the responsible one, Kit." Steve grins at me and slings his arm over my shoulders.
"I remember." Bucky, trying to maintain his gruff attitude rolls his eyes and grunts his response before throwing back the entire drink in front of him. "Better slow down there, Barnes or you might wake up in a strangers bed in the morning." He finally looks up at me, his eyes dark.
"You and I both know that this does nothing," he says gesturing towards the bottle of booze. "If I wake up in someone's bed in the morning, I fully intended to be there." I narrow my eyes at him, unsure if I'm reading too much into his words or if he means what he says. Steve clears his throat awkwardly after a moment and nudges me with his shoulder.
"I'm going to just... go see what Thor is up to." With a wide grin he stands up and leaves abruptly. I try to ignore the crackling of the air between myself and Bucky and to help myself do that, I lean back as far as I can on my stool but he matches me by leaning forward against the counter of the bar.
"How are you feeling?" It isn't the question I was expecting from him and it catches me off guard. Much like everything else about this interaction with him.
"Um," I stumble over my thoughts as I try to organize them into something coherent. "Okay. Natasha made me cry earlier."
"What?" Some emotion I can't get a read on swirls through his eyes as they dart up to look at Natasha standing across the room. "Why?"
"She hugged me." I shrug. "Guess I needed that more than I thought I did." My admission confuses me even more than I already was and I frown. Bucky makes his way around the countertop and takes the seat beside me. He leans casually against the counter, his left arm propping him against the wood and his right arm draped over his thigh.
"Sometimes all you need is a little bit of human connection to let go," he muses, his eyes never leaving mine. I shift under the weight of his stare. I hate him for that. The way he stares makes me feel so exposed. I take a deep, steadying breath and place my empty cup down on the counter.
"I think I'm going to call it a night. This is... a lot." I glance around the room at all the friends gathered here and feel, once again, out of place.
"It is," he agrees as he pushes himself away from the bar and stands in front of me. He holds his hand out in offering. "Let me walk you back to your room." After just a heartbeat's hesitation, I take his hand and allow him to pull me to a standing position. I let him lead me through the room and say goodnight to Natasha as I pass her. I don't miss the fact that all eyes are on us as we head down the dark hallway to the sleeping quarters.
"Well, this is me," I say as I turn towards him suddenly feeling very juvenile with my back to my door. I cringe inwardly and want nothing more than to disappear into thin air. I cast my gaze anywhere but his face.
"Kit," he says, half whisper, half prayer. I feel goosebumps raise along my arms and when he reaches up to my face and brushes his knuckles along my cheek, he touches a place in my soul that I wasn't even sure existed anymore. I melt against him and lean into his palm as he cups my face. I close my eyes as he brushes his thumb over my cheekbone and very nearly burst into tears. I'm so overwhelmed by everything happening and worry that I'm going to break underneath the weight of all of the warring emotions swirling through me in this moment.
"I need to go to bed," I murmur against his hand, keeping my eyes closed. I don't trust myself to look at him. "Do you ever want something so badly, but you aren't sure if it's good for you or not?" I ask him suddenly, unable to stop the words from flowing out. When he doesn't respond, I immediately want to kick myself. Maybe he isn't feeling this electricity between us and he's just offering me a little bit of human connection, a little bit of comfort, in a bid to make me feel better. Maybe he's just babying me because he thinks I'm weak.
"Yes," he finally answers, his voice still low and soft. "It happens more frequently lately."
"What does your therapist say about acting on that?" I clench my eyes tighter.
"She would tell me to be cautious and to evaluate the situation to see if I'm reading it right."
"Is that what you would do?"
"Most of the time. But not usually, if I'm being honest." He's standing closer to me now, the space between us is all but nonexistant and his hand has migrated towards the back of my head with his long fingers tangling in my hair.
"What would you usually do then?" Now I'm the one whispering. Even with my eyes closed I can feel how close his face is to mine.
"Whatever I want to," he says.
Then he leans down, closing the remaining inches between us and presses his lips to mine. It's not a passionate kiss, not a wild kiss that burns you up from the inside. It's just the soft brushing of his lips against mine, but it's powerful and it shakes me to my foundation. He pulls away first and presses his forehead to mine. I open my eyes just the slightest bit and look at him through my eyelashes. His eyes are now closed and his mouth open just a little bit, as if he's winded and trying to discreetly catch his breath. The tables have turned and now I'm the one staring at him, trying to read into every small movement of his eyes before they spring open and he's looking directly back at me. I lean my head back against my door and we stand like this for a long time, his hand wrapped around the back of my neck before I reach up and awkwardly pat his chest. "I need to go to bed," I repeat, my voice cracks a little and I once again wish I could evaporate into thin air. Bucky smirks at me and I see a glimpse of the playboy I once knew. This elicits an eye roll from me which only widens his smirk.
"Goodnight, Kit." With his thumb under my chin, he tilts my face up towards his as he wraps his left arm around my waist. I shiver as his metal fingers brush against the exposed skin of my lower back. A devious look flashes through his eyes as he reads my body language. He tightens his grip on me and pressing my back tightly against my door, he leans into me while simultaneously wrapping my hair around his hand to form a fist. The action pulls my chin up farther towards him and my heart rate accelerates.
"This feels familiar," I whisper as a call back to when he caught me in Istanbul.
"I wanted to pummel you in Istanbul," he says dismissively.
"What do you want now?" I venture, feeling bold. The corner of his lip twitches upwards as if he wants to respond.
But instead of a verbal response, he kisses me again. This time it is all urgency and fire. His fist tightens in my hair and he lets go of my lower back just to press his left hand against the wall to steady himself as I wrap my arms around him. All I can think about is the way he tastes, the way he smells, the way that he is suddenly everywhere.
I am drowning in him. I snake one hand up his chest and tangle my fingers through his hair, pulling softly. I feel heat and electricity pulsing through my entire body and when he groans against my mouth, I nearly shatter on the spot. I'm beginning to lose myself in him when I hear someone clear their throat from down the hallway. I jump and I'm no longer floating, but crash landing back to earth. I shove Bucky away and turn my head so quickly to see who is interrupting that I'm sure I've pulled something in my neck.
The heat that was pooling in my stomach rushes to my cheeks as I get a good look at our audience. Standing just a few feet away from us is Natasha and Steve supporting a very drunk Thor. "I won!" He yells out triumphantly. "Pay up, Rogers." His words are slurred and Steve and Natasha steer him down the hallway towards us.
"Yeah, yeah. We'll get you your money. Goodnight, Buck... Kit." They make their way to Thor's room and after depositing him in there and closing the door, they each shot us a smug glance before retiring to their own rooms. Suddenly very uncomfortable, I wrap my arms around myself in a tight hug.
"Goodnight, Bucky." He opens his mouth and quickly shuts it again as the finality in my tone stops him from saying whatever it is he was planning to say. He does however, lean back towards me and despite knowing that I need to stop this in its tracks, I tilt my face up towards his. Only, he wasn't leaning in for a kiss, he was leaning for my door handle. He twists the handle and swings the door open behind me, his face still dangerously close to mine.
"Goodnight, Kit." And with the smallest peck on the tip of my nose, he turns on the spot and goes to his own bedroom, leaving me to stand in the hallway alone and even more confused than when I started the night out.