"It could have been much worse, but it should have been better. I know I hurt you...Deserted you... Now I see it clear. I pulled you closer, tighter, cause I knew you'd disappear." -Five Finger Death Punch
Goddamn snow…Goddamn cold. She shivers, heating up her arm to keep herself warm. She looks over at the masked man, her partner on this mission. "Did you have to take out the electrical systems before we confirmed extraction?"
"How was I supposed to know there was a blizzard coming in? We had orders…" He growled. Visibly shivering in his own corner of the small building.
She lightly laughed at his shaking form, "Aren't you supposed to be the Winter Soldier?"
"So they tell me." He pauses, and she can hear his teeth chattering beneath the mask. "How are you not cold?" He asks, glaring at her laying calmly on the ground, "It is like negative twenty in here."
She laughs loud enough for him to hear, and she hears him audibly growl. She lifts her metal arm towards him, inviting him to come to her. "Come here, I'll share." He remains in the same position just staring at her. "I am pretty sure people cuddle for warmth in life threatening situations. And my orders were to make sure you didn't get damaged. There is no telling what they would do to me if you froze to death before they got here tomorrow."
He stands, stalking over to her, still shaking, and she watches him slowly advance on her. She shivers for an entirely different reason. "You…want to cuddle?"
"Would you rather freeze to death? Your choice I guess." He sighs as he sits next to her. "You are gonna need to face me, if I put this anywhere on you but your metal arm, it will burn the hell out of your skin." She lifts her arm higher so he can feel the heat wafting through the air around it, and he squints at her in disbelief. "C'mon, Soldat. You are wasting my heat. Are you scared because of the hot-arm thing or the cuddling with a woman thing?" She laughs as he glares at her, scooting in close to her, cautiously placing his metal arm around her waist. Using his other arm as his pillow. Face to face with her. His eyes are the prettiest blue…
Before she can lay her arm on his he moves it, and she finds herself missing the contact briefly. He reaches up into his hair, unclasping his mask from his face and sitting it on the ground above his head. She gets a clear view of his face, just inches from hers. Damn, he is handsome. He returns his arm to her waist and she lays her arm onto his, conducting the heat through his arm and into his body. He closes his eyes, relishing in the warmth. A chill runs through her at the loss of heat for her own body. She begins to generate more energy, despite knowing she can't keep up this burn rate if she is asleep. Oh well, there are worse views to stay awake to. She smiles, noticing his breathing has gotten slower. She briefly wonders if she has met him before, but lost the memory. Surely I wouldn't have forgotten a face this handsome…even with the wipes. She focuses on his breathing, trying not to fall asleep so that she can keep them both warm. She hopes they let her keep this, even though she knows that it won't happen. Compliance is rewarded…such a crock of shit.
Bucky remains on the couch for an unknown amount of time. Initially he planned to take the time to put to words his impressions of her, and the memories he has made today. He finished writing several pages in one of his journals when he hears giggling from the other side of the room.
He looks up to see her smiling with Wanda, and then she looks at him and smiles too. He tries to return to his writing, but is distracted again by her voice, and then by her music. She is apparently playing a song of Wanda's…I guess that invisible piano you were playing wasn't for nothing, huh?
He tries not to stare, or intrude on her life and continues writing fragments of memories and feelings in his journal. He thinks about how well she is handling herself. She went through the same things I did…we were in it together. He smiles, thinking about their earlier conversation. But she seems perfectly fine… while I am so… not.
From across the room, he hears her laugh, "No, no! That is the 'A' you gotta hit the 'C'...yeah that one!" Wanda laughs too, joking about being terrible and Lenore assuring her that she isn't. He tries to ignore her voice, writing down little memories of Brooklyn. Of Steve. Of that little pizza shop on the corner. He doesn't even realize that Wanda has left the room until the music changes. He looks up and realizes it is much darker outside, and Lenore is alone on the bench. Playing alone now.
He watches as she moves to her own music, leaning into certain notes more than others. He doesn't recognize any of the songs she plays, but he knows that they all sound beautiful. He can no longer focus on his writing, instead listening to the sweet sound of the piano. He continues to stare at his journal; pretending he has business in the main room other than listening to her. Occasionally he hears her voice come in quietly with some lyrics he can't quite make out, and he makes a mental note to sit in the couch closer to the piano next time.
Hours later, when the music stops he looks up at the clock and sees that it is almost midnight. He turns his gaze to her, watching as she gets up from the bench and turns around. She jolts when she sees him, clutching her chest.
He chuckles. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."
She smiles warmly. Beautiful smile. "It's okay, I just didn't realize you were still there. I am sorry if I was bothering you."
"No, not at all. I liked hearing you play." He replies as she walks closer to him.
"That always helped me too…" She says, when he raises a confused brow, she points to his lap. "Your journal… I did that too. Wrote down anything and everything. Just in case I forgot again…"
"Why did you stop?" He asked.
"Hydra found me." She half smiles. "I am sure they burned them all. They probably burned everything I had. My journals. My art. My gloves. My iPod. My guitars. Leave no traces and all that…" She trails off, and Bucky sees a familiar sadness in her face. He has no idea what to do. What should I say? What can I do?
Before he can decide, she smiles again. "But I need to be gettin' to bed. Been a long day…Goodnight Bucky. See you tomorrow."
He returns her smile, silently wishing she would stay and talk to him, "Goodnight, Lenore." He watches her disappear down the hallway, and moments later he hears her door close. He waits on the couch for several minutes, trying his best to make it look like he wasn't just staying awake to listen to her, before finally retreating to his own room for sleep.
He wakes up to screams. Blood-curdling screaming, and something inside him knows he has heard those screams before. He leaps out of bed, heading into the hall. He sees Wanda exiting her room clutching her head and when she looks at him, he knows exactly what is going on. The screams continue as Bucky rushes to the thankfully-unlocked door to Lenore's room. He is met with a view of her thrashing on her bed, screaming like she is in agony, the only light the moon shining in through the window. He advances on her, sitting on the bed beside her, clutching her shoulders enough to steady her, "Lenore! Lenore! Wake up. It's not real. It's not real." She opens her eyes, and he sees so much fear in them, it breaks his heart. She tries to pull away from him, "It was just a dream. It's me. It's Bucky. I am here for you. You are safe now." He says softly, looking directly in her eyes, watching as her fear is replaced by relief. She leans forward, pressing her head into his chest, and his arms instinctively wrap around her, holding her close to him. He runs his real fingers through her hair gently as he feels her heartbeat begin to slow down to normal.
He breaks the silence, "You know, you are invading my turf here." She turns her head up to look at him, and he meets her eyes, noticing the tears in them. "Waking up in the middle of the night screaming is kind-of my thing." He smiles, and so does she, followed by a half-laugh-half-sob, and the return of her head to his chest.
"I am sorry… I guess it was too quiet… The battery on Wanda's iPod was low, and I thought I would be fine. I had gone so long without an incident." She sobs again, and he hugs her tighter.
"Hey, hey. It's fine. I know how it is. I know how the nightmares are..." He drifts off, and she pushes away from him to face him.
"Did they…put you in the box?" She asks him, and he sees the concern in her face.
"I don't remember…I don't think so." He replies, and watches the relief wash over her.
"You would remember it if they did…they want you to remember. Helps encourage compliance." she laughs darkly.
"What is the box?" He asks, almost dreading the answer.
She pulls away from him, leaning back and running her hands up her face and into her hair. "It's… a little box. Filled almost to the top with water. They put you in and you float. You feel weightless. It is soundproof, and light tight. I have seen something similar used in therapies recently. Called sensory deprivation…" She pauses, gripping her hair tight. "They put you in there, and they trigger something in your mind that tricks your brain into believing you are burning alive…and they leave you there. For hours. Or days, depending on how badly you fucked up." She makes that half-sob-half-laugh again, "If it is too quiet…sometimes my mind will remember it….their conditioning doesn't go away. Ever. It just gets integrated into your mind." She turns to look at him, tears in her eyes. "You don't lose yourself anymore…but it never goes away."
He scoots back, leaning back against the wall, and she follows, sitting beside him on her bed, the sound of metal on metal as their forearms brush. "Don't take this the wrong way. But it makes me feel better knowing you are just as fucked as me." She laughs, "I was thinking you were so well put together. So in control of everything. I thought I was way behind."
"You gotta fake it 'til you make it. If you pretend you are fine long enough, maybe eventually you can convince yourself it is true…" She turns to smile at him. "And I am doing better than you. I have all my memories and don't turn into a killing machine when I hear Russian words."
He smirks at her teasing, a little surprised that either of them can joke about it. "But that will be fixed soon enough, and then where will we be?"
"In it together… just like we always were… even if you don't remember it." She laughs.
"I wish I could."
"Honestly? I am kinda glad you don't."
"Why is that?"
"If you did, you wouldn't want to talk to me."
"How do you know?"
"After what I did, I wouldn't want to talk to me." She replies, looking at her own feet dangling off the bed.
He scoots out so he can turn to see her face to face. "What did you do?" He asks, almost not wanting to know the answer.
She smiles a half smile. "You will remember soon enough…Now go back to bed. We need our sleep."
She is clearly ending this conversation, and he regrets pushing her. "Are you going to be okay?"
"Yeah. I am fine. I will put on some music for the rest of the night…" He turns to leave the room, "Hey Bucky?" He stops and turns back to look at her. "Thank you for being here."
He smiles softly. "Anytime." He turns and exits the room, closing the door behind him. He looks at the three concerned faces in the hall. "She is fine. Nightmare." Steve and Nat nod, familiar with the drill from Bucky's nightmares. Wanda continues to look at him, clearly still shaken up by however much of the nightmare she saw. "What did you see?" He asks her.
"Nothing. There was just darkness and pain…I looked when I heard her screaming…it was a memory, wasn't it?"
"Yeah…I just wish I could help her."
"I don't know. I think maybe you are." Wanda smiles, before retreating back into her room.
Bucky follows suit. Returning to his own room and closing the door. Staring at the ceiling and wondering what she could have possibly done that would shake the feelings he refuses to admit that he has.