Chapter 19
It had been one of those nights. The demons dripping blood clawing their way from her ledger. It happens, from time to time. It is always strange the timing. Its moments at her lowest, or at moments when she is completely at peace with herself. It is always unexpected when her demons come at her the hardest.
Waking with a start, her whole body is filled with tension and dread. Sitting straight up in the bed. Her black tank top sticking to her by her sweat. Her eyes wide taking in her surround. Their room is dark, the only light is low light from the bathroom and the greenish light that shines from the clock. The face of the clock shining 12 minutes after midnight. Trying to taking calming breaths. Her heart feeling like it is about to pound out of her chest. Steve is laying besides her, his body curled to hers. His body relaxed, and face peaceful with sleep. Her hand is ghosting over his cheek. Stifling a sob, as flashes of her nightmare coming to the forefront.
Without a second thought she moved from the bed. With trembling hands locating a pair of grey sweat pants that Steve was wearing earlier and pulling on a hoodie over her head. It wasn't until she stepped outside of their room, she finally let go of the breath she was holding. Her breath coming out as a sob and shaky. As she stubble with each step, taking slow uncoordinated steps. Walking down the hallway to the kitchen. The glass riddled on the marble countertop. Her hands still shaky, but her breathing under control. Sipping the water slowly. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Reminding herself it was only a dream. 'That was in the past. They can't hurt me now. I am safe.' Bullshit phrases that Clint was say when she would wake from nightmares. Things that would help come to terms with the things she was seeing or the things she had done.
Once she had a grasp hold on her emotions. She knew sleep wasn't happening. Instead, she went outside to the back patio, pulling one of the wooden chairs close to the fire pit. Then slowly she stacks logs into the pit. Focusing solely on the task. Pushing everything else out of her mind.
The flames dancing along the logs. Her thoughts on the flames.
Her muscles tensed with the slight moved from behind her. She was moving before she even consider who it could be. She was on the ground with the individual under her legs and getting the individual into an arm bar. Pressing her hips up against the individual elbow.
"Nat. Nat." Her name was an echo to her.
"Natasha you're going to break my arm. STOP!" the voice, no longer an echo. The voice sounding like Sam's. Sam. SAM!
"стоп" The harsh command pulling her to her senses. Releasing Sam from the arm bar. Looking up and seeing Bucky standing over her. Natasha asking pulling herself to her feet. Readjusting her hoodie and pants. Trying to not feel embarrassed.
"Damn. Remind me to never startle you again." Sam shaking his arm out.
"Is that why Clint clicks whenever he is walking up behind you?" Bucky asking, his head tucked lower and watching her.
"Aren't observant." She states flatly heavy with sarcasm.
"What are you doing out here?" Bucky asks still watching her. His face told her everything she needed to know. He was reading her. He was always able to read her. Nothing has changed. She didn't him reading her. Not right now.
"What are you two doing?" She fires back at them, retaking her seat. Acting like nothing had just happened.
"Is that how we are going to play it? Fine. Good O'Buck here never played corn-hole before, so Clint and Scott were teaching him how to play. We had to play a couple of times before he got the hang of it. I think he will be able to play against Steve and have a good chance of winning." It's amazing how Sam and Bucky have become fast friends. Natasha looking away from the pair and back to the flames. Hoping they will leave on their own.
"Nat, what are you doing out here?" Bucky asking again with a tone of concern in his voice.
"Nothing. Just enjoying a fire." She doesn't like lying to her friends, but they don't need to know the truth. It was her ledger to carry. After a few seconds of silence, Sam said goodnight then left for bed. Clearly, he could read her well enough to know that she wasn't in the mood to socialize. Bucky remained standing beside her.
"What are you doing Bucky?" She was annoyed that he was still there. She was needing to be alone. If someone was near, she won't be able to work through the nightmares. She can't hold on to her mask, she could feel it slipping. She didn't want any of her teammates to see her when she was like this. There's only two people she was felt completely safe with when it came to her ledger, Clint and Steve. She was in the right mental state to deal with the past history with Bucky.
"May I sit with you?" Bucky asking.
She didn't answer him.
After a few silent seconds from her, Bucky dragging a chair near the house. Causing a ridiculous amount of noise, then taking a seat directly across the fire pit from her. Her eyes no longer watching as the flames dance on along the logs but watching the man sitting cross from her. Part of her hating him for sitting with her. His jaw locked, lips pinch together and his eyes reading her. She could feel it.
"What are you doing?" she snapped at him.
"Sometimes when you push everyone away is the time you may need someone the most." He speaks wisdom. That wisdom cuts through her the most. She didn't want to admit that she was needing someone. It would be a different story if Clint was the one to walk up. Her and Bucky have had only the one conversation after dinner the first night, they have spent time together during the team bounding the last couple of days but she wasn't ready to show what her ledger has become since the Red Room to him.
"I heard wisdom came with age." Her snappy tone and mood progressed even more the longer he sat there.
He grinned at her. "What layer of the onion is sarcasm?"
"What?" His off the wall comment that made no sense, catching her off guard. In the moment she forgot about her ledger and the nightmare that haunts her.
"Steve said you are like that ogre, Shrek. He said that you have layers and as I get to know you more, more layers I will find you have. Something about at first you are silent and don't want to be bother with. Then you will talk but barely interact. At some point you will slide in little joking comments then you will be in full blown sarcasm. The final layer being something about you willing to put your life on the line for your teammates." Bucky had a smile on his lips. His tone was brighter and lighter. Natasha was pissed that Steve would compare her to Shrek.
"First of all, I am going to kill Steve for comparing me to an ogre. Second, I am sure he is missing some layers. I have some very violate layers, that Steve will be revisiting. Thirdly, I am glad he is trying to culture you, but in this day in age telling a woman she is an ogre is bad. I don't recommend it. Lastly, if you're going to sit here you will be quiet." She snapped at him.
His laughs relaxing her. She has to resist the argue to smile because she was pissed that Steve would ever compare her to Shrek.
"I can see why Steve wants to spend the rest of his life with you." The once locked jaw and pinch lips now relaxed. He scary stern expression that he wears when he is 'The Winter Soldier' or whenever he is trying to figure out a situation or reading someone is gone. He looks like he does when he is with Steve, relaxed and calm. He looks like the way he did when he was teaching her before. He looked happy. Which was a rarity for him.
"You and Steve talk about our future, huh?" Her curiosity peaked.
"Yea. He was so nervous about proposing, then he kept telling me what your guys future looks like. A house for the two of you, with a room so you could dance like you once did. He's wanting to be a volunteer baseball coach and you two living together and growing grey. I haven't him this happy in a long time. He talked about his mom and how she would love you. It was the first time since 1930's that he has spoken about his mom." She heard everything he said, but her mind mentally stopped at the word proposing.
"What?" She stares at him.
He stares at her back, the confusion playing on his face. "What?"
"Steve is going to propose?" Natasha asks shakily. Her stomach becoming a collection of knots. The future that she wanted was in front of her.
"Didn't he?" Bucky questions back.
"When was he suppose too?" Natasha firing back.
"I thought that was the reason you were out here, thinking about the wedding. Steve didn't propose?" Bucky asking realizing he made a mistake.
"No. No he didn't. He went to bed." A smile creeping on her face, as excitement builds inside her. Though Bucky's express was the opposite.
"I wasn't supposed to say anything." Bucky confesses.
"You think." Natasha laughs, throwing her head back in amusement. This was not how she thought tonight was going to go.
"Can you pretend that I didn't say anything?" Bucky stresses.
"Oh, Bucky. I think we have come to a new layer." Natasha enjoying his grief a little too much.
"What layer is that? You enjoying watching me put my foot in mouth? I messed up. You weren't supposed to know." His mental hand rubbing across his forehead in stress.
"No, I wasn't." She laughs.
"Can you not tell Steve, that I ruin the surprise?" His whole body is on edge.
"Like a secret?" She was enjoying his misery way too much.
"Yea?" a surge of hope played in his eyes.
"Bucky, I think it this is a start to a beautiful friendship." Natasha looking at him.
"Where I ruined your proposal?" Bucky laughing.
"Something like that." Natasha sat back. She was picturing the future that Steve had painted for Bucky. It was beautiful. The house, Steve being the baseball coach, even maybe having a room over the garage for Bucky.
"Now that we are friends. Could I ask you something?" There's was some hesitation in his voice.
"It depends." She replies jokingly.
"Did I shoot you? Before?" His question throwing her through a loop.
"Which time?" She laughs. He looks at her shock and amusement playing on his face. Not sure if she was jokes or not. His memories not all there or real. Though she wasn't joking with him. She had been on the business end of his rifle twice. And has the scars to prove it. One above her hip bone and another to her shoulder.
"How times were there?" His shoulder were pinched with tension and worry.
"It was twice."
"Natasha I am sorry." Raw emotion flashed on his face. She didn't want him hurting for something he wasn't in his right state of mind.
"Stop. I don't blame you. You weren't in control." She didn't need him to apologies for what Hydra ordered him to do. Before putting his mind back in the blender. She meant it, not breaking their eye contact. She hoped that he would feel her being sincere.
Bucky eyes were the first to break away and looking behind her. Bucky's chin lifts, pointing in the direction behind her. It was then when she heard the foot falls. She didn't look back. Bucky's grin told her exactly who it was behind her.
"What's going on here?" Steve standing beside her chair, looking between her and him.
"Bucky was explaining to me that Shrek and I have a lot of things in common." The sarcasm heavy in her voice.