This was by the far the weirdest date Bucky had ever prepared for. He wasn't sure about the protocol here, wasn't sure how he was meant to dress and what etiquette was required when one was going to meet the ghost that lived with your best friend's boyfriend. Was it appropriate to just wear what he died in? Would a suit be too formal? They were only going to be dining at Sam's after all but he didn't want to seem like he didn't care or didn't respect Sam. He really didn't want to mess this up for Steve.
Bucky had had to do some hard work on Steve. He first met him when the man moved into Bucky's old apartment. At first he'd tried pretty hard to get Steve to leave because it was Bucky's damn apartment even if it hadn't been his since he enlisted in the second big one, it was still his. Okay, so he got possessive sometimes. Anyone would, shut up. He tried all his old tricks: footsteps on the stairs, creaking noises, slamming doors, locking Steve in closets, flickering lights, playing with shadows. That got all the other ones to leave but Steve was a stubborn one and Bucky started to get bored and angry and so he smashed all the mirrors in the house. He hadn't expected Steve to pull out a gun and wave it around wildly shouting for his commanding officer to confirm orders. Bucky had stared at him stunned while Steve fell on the ground and started having a panic attack.
It was so familiar to Bucky, like how he reacted to most things after he'd escaped Zola's lab. He should have known a fellow soldier when he saw one. He had ended up sitting beside the man coaching his breathing. He hadn't expected Steve to look directly at him after that and strike up a conversation. He shouldn't have been able to see him unless he was a medium or had similar abilities. But his Ma always told him not to look a gift horse in the mouth so instead he talked back to Steve. Told him his name, how he died (as much truth as he was comfortable telling anyway), they talked about their families, sports, art and so many things Bucky couldn't keep track.
They talked every day after that. After six months Bucky noticed Steve's people to people interaction consisted of Bucky and the occasional phone call to his mother. Bucky would follow Steve on the few occasions he did go out but he usually only went to the cemetery to visit someone named Peggy. He figured she already passed because he never saw her and apparently Steve didn't either so Bucky decided to take action and started pushing Steve to go to the VA. Sure he was a possessive ghost but he wasn't slow, he noticed the passage of time around him and caught up with the times when he could. He knew shell shock was a real medical disorder now, it was called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder nowadays and he figured he should push Steve to get the help he and a lot of others were never able to. Thankfully Bucky wasn't alone, once Sarah Rogers hopped aboard the train Steve finally relented.
That's where he met Sam. He was a counselor, not for Steve's group apparently but he had been helping his fellow counselor Leila in art therapy and it was supposedly love at first sight. Bucky didn't want to believe in that mess, he knew what love at first sight led to. Nothing but betrayal and lies and secrets and pain and...
Damn it, I'm not thinking about her.
Anyway, after that Steve and Sam discovered that they shared a running route so they starting running together which led to coffee dates, then lunch dates, then dinner dates, then to them making out like teens on the couch which he interrupted because he's a shithead. He didn't expect Sam to be able to see him, he was just aiming to fuck with Steve and make him embarrass himself and maybe he wanted Steve's attention back on him again. Like he said, he's possessive. Shut up about it.
Apparently though, Sam came from a long line of mediums and going through multiple near death experiences while overseas only intensified his ability. Sam had started joking that just because Bucky was dead didn't excuse him being a perv or a cockblock. He decided he liked Sam then and there and he'd been good for Steve, hell on his second visit he brought Bucky chocolate chip cookies so he decided Sam could stay. Which led him to the predicament he was currently in.
He had agreed to go with Steve's to double date with Sam and the ghost that apparently haunted Sam's house. Yeah, if he knew this was going to be his life (or afterlife) maybe he would've done something different. As it stood he didn't know a lot about this ghost he was set to spend the evening with, he just knew her name was Natasha and that apparently they would get along well. He looked at himself in the mirror with a sigh before deciding to just throw caution to the wind and wear something comfortable so he willed himself into a pair of jeans along with a white t-shirt and a plaid red button down over it. He made sure it was buttoned up and had on a leather jacket as well to complete the look and some boots. It was comfortable, stylish, modern if nothing else. He preferred this over the fatigues he was usually in or his official military uniform. Steve walked in then already dressed up in a blue button down with khaki slacks and a red cable knit cardigan.
"You look nice." He commented, leaning against the door jam.
"Of course I do, I'm me." He replied flippantly causing Steve to roll his eyes. Honestly, Bucky was nervous. In his living years there had been a lot of women and plenty of dancing but during the war and going into the years after there had really only been one person he'd cared enough about, only one person who was able to break through the general haze that had become his existence.
Nemnogo pauk, my love, my darling, Natalia, I love you vsem serdtsem. Please Natalia don't do this, dont-
He cut that line of thinking off immediately. He would not think of Natalia tonight, nor her betrayal. He was supposed to go out and have fun with this Natasha. The similarity in names did not escape him but this was for Steve so he could do this, he would do this.
"Look I've met Natasha. She's... nice. She can be intense sometimes, she might seem cold at first but that's just the surface, trust me, You'll get along well." Steve said in reassurance. Bucky simple nodded and primped his hair before he turned to Steve.
"Let's go then, punk. Don't want to leave our guests waiting now do we?" Bucky said before walking straight through Steve, knowing how much that annoyed him. It usually left an undeniably uncomfortable chill in the living when they made physical contact with spirits. Bucky enjoyed creeping people out with his presence, it was entertainment in the monotonous years of being stuck in between the living world and a higher ascension.
"You jerk." Steve mumbled as Bucky went out the apartment door. Bucky shrugged, yeah he was a jerk but not enough of one that he intended to ruin this night. Steve and Sam were still relatively new, he wanted them to succeed in their relationship. There was just something about them together, something that reminded him of how it felt with Natalia in the beginning, something that reminded him of how it felt watching Becca fall in love with her husband before she moved away from where he could see her and be with her, something that reminded him of what love was supposed to be like so he wanted it for them, wanted for Steve what he himself couldn't have. He wanted a life that was a full and happy one. Steve didn't deserve to be the type to fill a young grave with "should've" and "could've" and "almost" along with the dust of his remains. He would live a life, that would be Bucky's mission in his afterlife and maybe that would be enough even if he had to try to find some way to have a pleasant evening with this Natasha. But honestly how bad could it be?
He's standing in his and Steve's bathroom staring at his fractured image in the mirror that he ended up cracking. He hadn't meant to but he couldn't control his emotions, he wasn't sure of himself or anything when it came to her, she always left him off balance. Natalia, Natasha he supposed she went by now. Of course it was her. She was haunting him and always would. He did not know it was possible for a ghost to be haunted.
He had been okay, he had psyched himself up. He was ready to have a pleasant dinner, Sam's cooking was top notch and eating was so much better when everything isn't boiled and people actually employed the use of seasoning so he thought he'd have a nice time. He'd walked in with Steve and greeted Sam warmly before moving further into the room.
She was facing away from him revealing nothing but her upper back peeking out from her pale rose dinner dress, her long hair was straightened and in high ponytail so unlike her usual style but he'd recognize that shade of red anywhere. They had told her she should get rid of it, dye it a darker color, but it was the one thing about her that was authentic. Well that and her eyes, green like emeralds and before he knew it he was staring into them. They were blank at first before recognition flooded them and her jaw went a bit slack.
And it all came rushing back, meeting her as a fellow lab rat of Zola's, meeting her again when he was captured by the Russians and put to work, the blows traded in the red room, the kisses that sent shivers through him, the sound of wind chimes, the scent of sunflowers and then blood, blood in the snow. His blood in the snow because she shot him.
She shot me! No, she loves me. I love her. She shot me. She said she wants me. No one wants me but she does. She's the only one who understands. She was playing you, you were her mission silly boy. She loves me. She cannot love you. Moya nemnogo pauk, why? Why me? His thoughts were a whirl of disbelief, betrayal and hurt as he laid dying thanks to her. She did that. She shot him, she killed him.
They stood there staring at each other while Steve and Sam called to them nervously, Bucky's vision steadily grew blurry and he would not cry in front of her. He let himself be vulnerable before her too much and it got him killed. He turned and stalked out of the kitchen without looking back but she went after him.
"James. James, wait please." He might've shivered at that, he hadn't been called that in so long. He didn't stop though. Suddenly she was in front of him stopping him from walking any further than the living room, her hands splayed across his chest and they were warm just like always, warming him from the inside out but they were also resting over where she shot him, shot him and left him in the snow so he moved out of her touch.
"Don't touch me Natalia."
"James, just let me explain-"
"Explain how you killed me? How are you going explain that? I loved you, I trusted you with more of myself than I ever let anyone else see and you used me. You lied to me. I was just a mission to you."
"James... okay, in the beginning it was a mission but it changed. I changed, you changed me."
"What? You fell in love? You had a hell of a way of showing it." He responded a bit mockingly.
"I did love you. I still do. I missed you. I-"
"Did you really? Because all I remember is you looking me in the eyes while holding a gun to my heart and shooting me. You didn't care about me more than your mission." Natalia opened her mouth but no words came.
"I should've known better. I mean how many ever survive the attentions of the Black Widow? I guess I'm just as at fault as you and I got what I deserved for being so damn trusting and blind." She looked heart broken and he could hear Steve and Sam shuffling uncertainly behind him. He shook his head then and walked around her continuing across Sam's living room towards his front door. He could hear her following behind him, could practically feel her touch on his bare skin again and it was too much. It was just too much so he thought about his and Steve's place until suddenly that's where he was.
He walked slowly to their bathroom and made the lights come on. He stared at himself in the mirror trying to figure it out, what had it been about him that made it so easy for her to ensnare him and blind him. Why did she choose him? Why did he let himself fall for her in the first place? He should've known better. He was an idiot for believing her. He felt all the old anger and pain he had stewed in in his first years of his afterlife resurfacing. It felt like a live thing was twisting around, creating an energy that was dark and heavy not only around him but around the apartment as well. He jumped a bit as the glass of mirror suddenly cracked as if someone punched it, the cracks a spider web growing from a single spot in the mirror. He clenched his fists and forced himself to calm down. The last thing he wanted was to invite evil spirits into Steve's life. It took effort but he made himself get to some semblance of calm, if not for his sake then for the sake of Steve's possessions.
He swore he was over it. After the first two decades he washed his hands of anything to do with Natalia Romanova, he let go of his anger and his pain and he simply put it away but it was different when he was faced with her, faced with the fact that apparently she was Steve and Sam's friend and she was so close and she killed him. The mirror cracked further and Bucky heaved a sigh. He really couldn't let her keep affecting him like this.
"Buck? Are you here?" He heard Steve call as the front door shut. Bucky took a deep breath before walking through the closed bathroom door towards the living room where Steve was waiting.
"I'm here but why are you? You should be with Sam."
"He wanted to talk to Natasha alone besides I wanted to talk to you. I was worried."
"About what? And her name is Natalia."
"About that. You and Nat know each other? Obviously you know each other. You're her James, aren't you? The American she fell in love with? I mean, how? You died in World War II in Germany and she was in Russia then."
"First of all, I am not her James... not anymore anyway. Second of all, I didn't die in Germany I went missing in action. Thirdly, I don't want to talk about it."
"I think you should. I don't think keeping it bottled up ever helped or is going to make any of this better."
"None of this is ever going to be better, Steve. You just-you don't understand."
"I know she killed you. I know she lured you out to the woods and shot you even after you pleaded with her not to. She told me and Sam the truth about what she did when she told us about her James." Bucky huffed an angry scoff when Steve called him "her James" again but didn't say anything otherwise.
"She killed herself after, you know. Well she made her handlers kill her." Steve said in a quieter tone. Bucky slowly turned to him.
"Natalia would never do that. She's a fighter, she'd never just give up. She'd go out bloody and broken, kicking and screaming and dragging everyone she could with her before she'd ever kill herself or let anyone do it for her." Steve shrugged.
"Maybe she didn't want to fight because she lost her reason to fight, and by her own hands at that. She regrets it and the way she talked about you... she really did love you, Buck. She just... she lost her balance." Bucky looked away not wanting to see the sincerity in Steve's face or hear his defense of Natalia anymore. He wanted to be done with this night. He really wished he could sleep so he could just escape reality.
"I think you should talk to her."
"You know what I think, Rogers? I think you should shut up and mind your own damn business." Bucky said back but it lacked heat and malice. Instead he sighed tiredly before walking around Steve and out of the apartment. He needed fresh air and he needed it away from home.
It had been a week since he'd seen Natalia at Sam's house and ever since Bucky couldn't get her off his mind. He was constantly going over every memory in his head, trying to figure out what went wrong. Where did it change? Should he have seen it coming? Was he really that big a fool? His Ma always did say his love for women was going to be the death of him one day. But he also couldn't get Steve's words out of his head. He'd childishly been giving his friend the cold shoulder ever since that night. He wasn't really mad at Steve, he didn't have anything to do with it. Truth be told he wasn't mad at Natalia either so much as he was hurt by her. Honestly he was mad at himself. Mad that he wasn't enough for her, mad that he couldn't love her enough, mad that he felt that way about himself but then that was nothing new. Natalia didn't do that to him, those insecurities were already there. There was nothing she could have done about that but it was easier to blame her than it was to stew in his self-hatred.
Being with her, he had forgot to hate himself because all he could think about was loving her and being loved by her. He didn't care about the danger around them or their severe lack of freedom because he had her and if they killed him it would've been worth it but it was her who killed him and he couldn't process that, could neither understand nor accept that. Of course he'd answer all his questions if he just talked to her but he didn't want to think about it. That's why he went to the children's playground.
Children were incredibly perceptive. They could see ghosts and they were so trusting that they just invited you to play especially if you seemed sad. He enjoyed playing with the children, it reminded him of playing with his three younger sisters. It gave him a sense of peace even the stillness and quiet of death itself lacked and he needed to clear his mind anyway. As he entered the playground he recognized some of the children and when they saw him they flocked over happily inspiring a smile to blossom across his face.
"Hey kids." He said as they clamored around him. Parents and most adults in general didn't really question what games kids played and what they got up to. They probably thought he was a figment of the kids' imaginations, just a character for a game. He was fine with that, better he be an imaginary friend than a dead man.
He followed the kids to the jungle gym first helping them on the monkey bars and poles. They played tag together and hide and seek ("you can't use ghost powers to disappear Bucky, that's cheating") and as the children laughed with wild, innocent abandon he found himself feeling well and truly content so of course as they dragged him towards the swings so he could push them he sees Natalia behind the fence already pushing some children with a smile on her face as they laughed and demanded she push them higher. His first thought was runrunrun run far away now! but as she looked up he felt himself get trapped in her gaze. Her green eyes were wide as they stared at him. He didn't want to decipher the look in them but neither did he particularly want to run even though the instinct screamed at him.
He looked down as there was a tugging on his uniform pants leg. It took less energy to wear his old cargo pants and blue jacket than it took to wear modern clothes because his soul was so used to it, it was practically imprinted on him. He knelt down to come face to face with the little girl who'd been tugging on him.
"That's Natasha. She's a ghost like you. She's so pretty, right?" One girl told him. He nodded.
"Yeah she is." He agreed and she was, it was just a fact; one that was never an issue and wasn't affecting the problem now so he could let himself admit at least that much.
"Maybe you two can talk. Maybe you could be soulmates." Another girl chimed in with excitement.
"That would be so romantic." A boy said dreamily before another one pushed him.
"Come on, Bucky. You don't want to worry about stupid girls." A third boy said.
"She probably has cooties." A fourth added.
"First off, no pushing." He warned the second boy who looked sheepish at the reprimand.
"Secondly, girls aren't stupid and if you want to survive in this world don't ever think something like that." He advised the third who pouted but nodded while the little girls smiled to each other. Then he turned to the fourth.
"And she definitely has cooties." The boy nodded sagely.
"Knew it." He mumbled in a tone so serious Bucky forced himself not to laugh.
"Got good news and bad news, kids. Bad news: truth is we all have cooties." There was an audible gasp through the group of children. One of the girls even mock fainted into her friend's arms just to show how earth shattering that revelation was.
"Shocking I know. Good news: means we don't have to worry about catching it so we're free to play with whoever we want. C'mon, who wants to swing?" The kids cheered and all began running to the swings. He looked up as he walked over and saw Natalia had a small smile on her face. He steeled himself to face her as he made the kids line up for the swings and adjusted the ones already in them so they were safely secured before he started pushing them. They didn't say anything to each other, not in front of the children but Bucky was loath to let the sense of peace he had gained go just so he could go back to being mad at her or himself anyway so he was content to push the children until the sun started setting and parents began coming to collect their children. Bucky stood next to Natalia pressed against the gate separating the park from the street. He winked and waved at the last girl who happily waved back before she continued trotting along with her mother.
"You're good with them, kids I mean." Natalia commented after a moment of silence, her voice betraying no emotion.
"Experience." He answered, his hands hanging onto the tall gate before him.
"Three younger sisters, right?"
"Right. You were pretty good with them too."
"I never got to think whether I would want kids before when I was alive, I'm still not sure now. Maybe in another life but I like making children happy now. It's a way to try and wipe some red out of my ledger at least."
"Balance the checkbook, huh?"
"I don't think it'll ever be balanced but I can try, you know?"
"Yeah." He said before pausing to look at the sun halfway hidden by the horizon and then nodded a little.
"Yeah." He started to turn to walk away after another moment but she stopped him.
"James. I'm sorry. I didn't get to say it at Sam's place. I just- I really am sorry." He nodded but neither accepted nor rejected the apology. He paused again before reaching his hand out and touching her shoulder. He didn't know what he wanted to portray with the gesture, didn't know what to say but it felt like the right thing to do. He didn't look at her even when he heard her gasp and felt her press her shoulder even further into his hand. She felt warm as opposed to the almost unbearable heat of the living, she felt tangible in a way even Steve and Sam weren't. Touching them sometimes felt like they were the ghosts instead of the other way around. He gave her shoulder one more light squeeze before retracting his hand, turning around and continued on his way. He didn't look back at her, didn't see the tears well into her eyes, didn't see her tuck her nose into her shoulder whilst greedily trying to breath in his scent, he ignored the heavy sigh behind him and kept going forward because there wasn't anything else he felt able to do.
When he got back to the apartment Steve was on the couch with Sam making out like teenagers. He walked straight through them on the couch just to freak them out.
"Goddammit Bucky." Sam complained as the ghost walked a little further from the couch and then turned to the duo, who were simultaneously fixing their clothing and glaring at him.
"For someone who takes such pleasure in pushing me into a relationship you spend a good deal of time cockblocking me, Bucky." Steve grumbled.
"I don't need to know where Sam's cock goes in relation to your body Steve and I'm a ghost, my primary function is to scare or otherwise annoy people. At least I'm not breaking your things anymore."
"Tell that to the bathroom mirror." The blonde deadpanned.
"I'll pay for that... or steal a new one."
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. I gotta go, I have a session in an hour and I got a couple things to do before." Sam said, standing up from the couch.
"Okay, I'll call you later." Steve answered.
"You better." Sam said before leaning down to kiss Steve.
"Bye Casper." He threw in Bucky's direction.
"See ya, Dr. Phil." He replied before Sam walked out the door. He looked over at Steve and he was grinning like a love sick puppy at the closed door.
"Idiot." He said with an eye roll.
"Hey, you're the one that pushed me to date Sam in the first place. You're also the same guy who wouldn't talk to me for three days after Sam and I had a fight."
"Well I want you to be happy and you're an awkward punk. I don't need you ruining all my hard work." Steve smirked knowingly at him but didn't say anything else. Bucky looked at Steve and felt some indecision stirring in his stomach. Part of him wanted to talk to someone about what he was feeling and what happened with Natalia but another part wanted to just put the whole thing behind him. Steve made that decision for him.
"So, you talk to Natasha yet?" Bucky looked down and then turned his head away from him.
"Look, I know you told me to mind my business and that's fair but you're my best friend. Sad state of affairs that my best friend is a ghost but I've accepted that my life has taken a decidedly pathetic turn. I just want you happy and at peace, Buck. Haven't you wondered about why she did it, what was going on that you didn't know about? Don't you at least want closure?" Bucky sighed before sitting next to Steve on the sofa.
"I saw her today in the park. We didn't talk much but she apologized."
"What did you say?"
"Nothing. I didn't know what I wanted to say."
"How did you guys meet anyway? The history book I read about you said you died in Germany but you said you were captured, so what really happened?"
"I thought you said Natalia told you about us."
"I heard her side of the story, I want to hear yours." Bucky rolled his eyes and sighed but the gestures lacked heat as they usually did with Steve.
"You already know I was captured by the Nazis. I was first put to work in one of their factories but when I got too tired I was taken by the doctor there, Dr. Zola. He tortured me with all kinds of experiments but it wasn't just me. Natalia was his "patient" too. She was strapped in the bed next to me and we'd talk to each other so we kept our sanity until one day she disappeared. I managed to escape them a little while after that. I went right back into fighting as if nothing happened, didn't want to think about it you know?"
"Yeah, I know." Steve nodded in understanding. Bucky nodded knowingly to himself, he knew Steve knew.
"Anyway there was a mission, long story short I was injured in enemy territory and taken back to a Soviet compound. There was another scientist, Dr. Rodchenko. He was... let's just say he didn't let a little thing like humanity get in the way of science. He was like Dr. Zola but worse in a way. With Zola he hadn't completely and totally detached from the fact that we were human and at first I thought that was worse but no, not being seen as a person was worse. We were tools, petri dishes for Rodchenko to use as he wanted. He could put things in your head and take things out. Some of the people he experimented on… they destroyed themselves. Clawed their own eyes out, banged their head against walls so hard they crushed their own skulls, tried to strangle themselves, one guy managed to get ahold of a knife and disemboweled himself right in front me. Rodchenko didn't care, just wrote down his results on that fucking clipboard of his, watched it all go down like it was nothing. Like he was watching a fucking National Geographic documentary." Bucky heard his voice wavering as he described his stay in Department X but he could never quite square himself up with his time there. Maybe he didn't have to, it had been hell and he'd never make peace with it. He just couldn't. Of the all the things he'd been through, not that.
"Jesus Buck…" Steve breathed out reaching a hand towards Bucky's shoulder but he waved the sympathy off, he didn't want it. Understanding he could handle but not sympathy.
"Somehow I survived his tests and experiments and I was... different. They made me something deadly, a weapon. I got an opportunity to get out of the lab if I trained other operatives in what I'd learned. Of course I'd need to know what I'd learned, enter Natalia Romanova... again. They called her the Black Widow then. She was one of the deadliest operatives they had, they said she was the Red Ghost, she was a legend, her kiss was deadly and she was a true weapon so of course they let her train me. I don't know what I expected but she was familiar, she had helped save me when I was with Zola so I just trusted her instinctively and I suppose I was just glad to be away from Rodchenko. People saw her as cold or as unfeeling and at first she was but I'd seen another side when we were with Zola and I kept trying to dig that part back up. She let me after a while. We grew to have camaraderie over time then a sexual relationship then I fell in love with her. It was so stupid, our choices weren't our own any more than our bodies were but we wanted to feel something that wasn't tainted by orders or at least that's what I wanted. I didn't think I'd fall for her, I knew better than that. It was so stupid but being with her it..." He trailed off, not sure he wanted to admit his feelings out loud. Steve just watched him patiently and didn't say anything. Bucky didn't know what he did in his life to earn a friend like Steve in death but, again, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"I hated myself, you know? The war, everything I did, everything I saw. I was stupid, went into it with rose tinted glasses because my father was an army man and his father and his. Same on my mother's side so I felt obligated to go, I had to go and it was hell. Getting caught by the Nazis and then being Zola's lab rat was only part of it. Watching kids, at least a decade younger than me get blown to smithereens, having to explain to my little sisters why I was missing their birthday and missing Christmas, seeing dead children's bodies fused into the ice outside a concentration camp just because they were Jewish, having to watch someone's head explode through a sniper rifle scope... I hated myself for being such a damn idiot and having to be so damn prideful that I thought I had something to prove at the very least to my father and joining the fucking army to prove it. I blamed everything that happened to me on myself. Zola and Rodchenko? We only crossed paths because of my stupidity. Being with Natalia, I forgot to hate myself."
"Bucky, Zola and Rodchenko's sins are all theirs. Don't take that on yourself, there's nothing you could've done. Playing the 'what if' game isn't going to help and you weren't stupid for joining the army, no more than I was. You needed to do something with yourself, with your life so you did it. It wasn't what you expected, I don't think it ever is. Doesn't make you stupid."
"I was stupid enough to think we'd run away together. One day she disappeared, I don't know where she went but she was gone for about a month. I didn't really find it that weird, she still had her missions. She came back and I knew something was off but I let it go. We spent most of the next three days together, we had training to catch up on and then one day she took me out on a walk into the forest. I felt strange about it but I trusted her, when we stopped and she pulled the gun out I knew. I tried to talk her out of it, she barely hesitated. She just shot me in the chest and stood over me while I bled out. She didn't say anything." Steve didn't look horrified or surprised, he'd heard this story before after all, he looked more sad than anything else.
"You should talk to her." He said finally. Bucky looked away.
"You really should talk to her." Steve leaned over and kissed his forehead, Bucky just barely being able to feel it, before he got up and went to his room. Bucky watched him go before looking back down. What the hell was he supposed to do?
Bucky had always been one prone to procrastination but he found that in this matter he wanted to deal with it sooner rather than later. He goes to Sam's house two days later because Steve was right, he needed some form of closure. He needed to know why she did it and a tiny part of him, the stupid part, wanted to know if she'd ever truly loved him but he stamped that down. He wasn't sure he wanted the answer or would believe her anyway.
"Natalia?" He called as he entered, there was some shuffling in the kitchen before she appeared in a pink bunny printed apron holding a ball of dough in her hands. It was a little comical to him, especially since he knew what she was capable of, but assassins could be domestic too he guessed.
"James, hi." She said with clear surprise at his presence. He eyed the dough with a raised eyebrow.
"Sam had a rough night, I was just going to make some cookies for him for when he comes home. He worries so much over other people he forgets himself sometimes."
"Mine too." Bucky said with a knowing nod, Steve could be the same way. It's partly why Bucky pushed him towards Sam, at least they could take care of each other plus Steve had him and apparently Sam had Natalia.
"What are you making?"
"Chocolate chip cookies, Sam's favorite."
"Did you make those cookies he brought the second time we met?"
"We bake together a lot. I wanted him to make a good impression, he's a lot happier since he met Steve." Bucky nodded before making a decision.
"Need any help?" She seemed surprised again before she smiled a little.
"I guess I could use an extra pair of hands."
He took off his leather jacket and rolled his sleeves up before entering the kitchen. She handed him a green apron that had falcons printed on it. He took it wordlessly and went over to the kitchen counter where she had been kneading dough and already had some she was rolling into flat disks. She was playing some music while working, classical music, he recognized it because he'd watched her dance undercover as a ballerina many times and he knew that despite it being implanted skill and memory she had loved it. He briefly looked over at her but she was intent on her task, lowly humming to the tune of Tchaikovsky so he went back to his task. The two moved together in the kitchen as easily as they did in the training room or the dancefloor. They knew each other well enough that each move they made was fluid. She'd knead the dough and he'd flour it and roll it into cookie shapes. She'd put the extra chocolate chips on top and he'd spread them on the pan. She opened the oven and he popped them in. They started cleaning up together as well with a silence that was both tension filled and familiar to them both.
"My mother loved baking. I'm pretty sure it was something the Red Room taught her but she loved it and we baked together all the time. Papa would be content to be taste tester. I only remembered that after I died." Bucky looked over at her. She was smiling softly at the memories while throwing away the empty flour bag. They were neither of them the type to waste words with each other, anything they told the other had meaning or reasoning behind it. They didn't make small talk so he was obviously meant to read into the comment.
"You only remembered after you died?" He asked, putting the cutlery in the dishwasher and pressing the 'go' button.
"They were very good at unmaking us, remember?"
"I actively try not to. Things get dark when I do."
"Yeah." Natalia said softly before sighing then turning to him, abandoning her task.
"I'm not going to lie to you James. When I shot you, I wasn't completely myself but I wasn't completely gone either. They... I was supposed to let you go, they gave me that chance. They wanted you to be a valuable asset, didn't want you emotionally compromised. I... the mission I was on, I didn't complete it. I couldn't because they sent me to kill your family." Bucky's head snapped over to her.
"They wanted me to kill your mother and your sisters and I couldn't because of who you were to me and who they were to you so I ran instead. I tipped off the SSR on the danger to the family of one of the Howling Commandos and they moved in to protect them immediately and I ran until they found me. They activated a failsafe in my programming. If I felt I was being emotionally compromised by something I was to eliminate the threat. I fought it for as long as I could and then... I just wasn't strong enough to keep fighting it." He could hear the self-deprecation in her voice, recognized it as a reflection of what he had felt for himself besides the times he was with her. He wasn't sure what to say. He hadn't really expected this response of all the things she could've said. He had so many conflicting emotions. She went against orders for him, spared his family. He knew his family had been under the protection of the SSR. After he died he saw some of the meetings between Chief Dooley and his Ma. Becca had ended up marrying Agent Daniel Sousa so he knew they were protected, he just didn't know exactly why. It was because of her, because she chose to protect his family instead of finish the mission.
"I don't expect forgiveness from you, James. I don't forgive myself." He sat silently for a moment before answering.
"It... it wasn't really your fault. Not really. We were both reaching for something, right? We found it with each other or at least I found it with you."
"Then it got complicated."
"It was always complicated but we didn't care and if I'd have had that failsafe I don't know if I could've fought as long as you did. I'm grateful for what you did for my family."
"James I can't ask for your gratitude." She said with a hint of incredulity in her voice.
"You're not asking, I'm just giving it." She sighed before looking down. He noticed her picking at her apron, if it were anyone else he'd think it was a nervous tick. He was suddenly overcome with the urge to do something, something to drag her from her melancholy. He spotted the bowl of leftover flour on the counter and inspiration struck. He stealthily dipped a finger into the bowl.
"Natalia." She looked up and he swiped her across her cheek with a smirk of mischief playing on his lips. She looked at him with utter disbelief before she quickly turned, took some flour from the bowl and flicked it from her finger onto his face. He reached for the bowl but she quickly grabbed it and retreated to a corner of the kitchen periodically throwing flour at him. He slathered his hand in some leftover flour on the countertop and darted over to her before pressing his whole hand to her face. When he pulled away there was a clear hand print on her face. She managed to dump the whole bowl on top of his head. He looked at her with mock shock while she laughed at his expression and how he looked covered in flour. He grabbed her around her waist and pulled her to him before moving his hand to the back of knee, the only place she was ticklish.
"James, no stop." She stuttered out between uncontrolled giggles.
"Why would I do that?"
"James- I- please, sorry! I'm sorry!" She was laughing so hard her face was turning red. He finally let up after a moment and she went limp in his arms, a stray chuckle coming out now and again. He lowered them towards the floor, moving to lean against the counter with her still in his arms. He was smiling he realized after a moment. She looked at him with her sparkling green eyes and they were so gorgeous up close especially when they were happy and he wanted to kiss her, he did. He wanted so many things and feared twice as much as he wanted but it wasn't fear that stopped him. If they were going to do this, they should do it right.
Maybe they weren't ever going to be able to forget what happened but they could start over, they could be something good. So he doesn't kiss her, not just then, but he does hold her and help her clean Sam's kitchen because he's creative enough to kill them if he comes home and sees the mess they created. He hugs her and before he leaves he asks her if she would like to go out one night with him, get reacquainted. He could learn who Natasha was and she could learn about Bucky. A part of them would always be Natalia and James but maybe that was a good thing. Maybe they could find in the death what they weren't allowed in life.