Intertwine

98 - Stupid, Stupid Alina

"I work out." I muttered. "It started when my mom died."

"Oh." He paused. "Sorry."

"It's okay. It was a way to cope I guess and then I realised it was something I was good at and enjoyed." I shrugged. "I don't work out to look pretty you know, I work out to be the best person I can be. And part of that for me is being physically strong. But it's also about commitment, willpower, pushing my own boundaries."

"Strength is pretty important to you, huh?"

"I mean, yeah, sure."

Bucky groaned. "As in you're mentally strong and it's something you take pride in. You go to MIT, you're going to do a PhD. But you also make sure to be physically strong."

Silence.

I took a little time to take in what he was saying, and what he was specifically not saying. How horrible I felt when I showed pain and emotions because it made me feel weak and vulnerable, so that was emotional strength. I liked to be collected and practical, psychologically strong. I guessed he was right in a way. But also...

"I know what you're trying to say." I turned over to look at him. "But I'm not afraid to be weak. That's not it."

He turned to look at me. "What is it then?"

"That's not who I am." I shrugged. "I'm not a very emotional person, I work logically and analytically. I like to be strong but I am also naturally strong, I was the biggest girl in my class for a long time. I'm not like Roara. But that's not a bad thing. When we were friends, our differences complimented each other. Just as our similarities did. We don't take shit from other people. We can both sometimes be hotheaded. Roara rushes into things with her heart, and sometimes that's what you need to do. I take my time, I like to think things through, and sometimes that's a better approach. People used to tell me to stop acting like a boy. I don't act like a boy. I act like myself. It doesn't make me less of a woman to not be very feminine most of the time. I talked about this with Nat actually..." I threw my head into the pillow and said, my voice mostly muffled, "and now they're all captured somewhere or dead."

Bucky put an awkward hand on my shoulder. "At least your ex-fiancée isn't trying to kill you." 

"You two were engaged?" I asked, not looking up.

He laughed. "In 1943."

"Wow." I sighed. "Commitment huh."

"I mean she spent most of the rest of the 20th century isolating herself from people and I spent it being either frozen or brainwashed to be an assassin."

I rolled over and fell off the bed. "Ow." I grumbled in the most deadpan way ever.

"Are you okay?" I saw Bucky's face peering at me over the bed-frame, his metal fingers and his normal ones gripping onto the mattress for support.

"Do I look okay? I just fell off the bed with a broken ankle of course I'm not okay." I used the side of the bed to pull myself up. "We need to change my dressings." I sat on the side of the bed and looked at the bare wood wall. "How long do we have to lie low for?"

"I'd say about a week." Came the voice of Bucky behind me. He'd got out of bed and was pulling on some jeans.

"A week?" My voice was so high pitched it sounded like a dog whistle. I turned my head to look at him. "A week?!"

"What else are we going to do? We have the Ascendency looking for us." He pulled his undershirt off and I made a distinct effort not to look at his abs. Think about Steve, think about Steve, think about his amazing muscly figure. I had to look away. Think about Steve, this is his best friend. BUT MUSCLES! THINK ABOUT STEVE!