Purple Hope

Forget Me Nots

When Bucky was thinking about what he could do to become friends with Natasha, he thought about what Wanda said. To just try talking to her. But he couldn't think of a reason to talk to her, or something to even talk about.

So he thought about how Vision had gotten Wanda a gift. He knew flowers were usually thought of as a romantic gift, but he wanted to get her something she would like so he asked Peter for her favorite color. He really just needed an excuse to talk to her and thought knowing her favorite color would somehow help.

When he was on his run the next morning, he saw a little blue flower, the same one from his memory, and couldn't help thinking of both the girl and Nat. She reminded him of her, the beautiful ballerina from his memories, so maybe he could use that to talk to her.

He got back from his run, walking into the kitchen thinking she'd be there for breakfast.

"Do you know where Natasha is?" he asked Peter.

"Oh, yeah, she's in one of the training rooms," he said.

"Thanks."

He made his way into the gyms, watching as she flawlessly threw knife after knife at a target. They each landed in perfect rhythm with precise aim. She threw them with different methods, moving around to hit multiple targets. It was an art and she danced through it with grace.

"Um, hi," Bucky said awkwardly once she had no more knives in her hands. He had watched her in a daze. She was mesmerizing. 

She spun around to look at him. There was no one else here. No good reason for her to escape other than her own pain. She couldn't just run away. He hadn't done anything wrong.

"Hi," she said, avoiding eye contact and busying herself by collecting her knives slowly.

"You're uh, really good with those knives," he told her.

"Thanks," she said.

He cleared his throat, shifting slightly. "I've been living at the tower awhile, and we haven't really gotten a chance to get to know each other," he said in an attempt for a response.

She hummed a response, checking over all the blades extra carefully, taking her time, trying to avoid him.

"And we haven't really talked much," he said, struggling to find the right words.

"There isn't much to talk about, I guess," she said, voice strained. She hated not being able to talk to him like she used to. Hated having to think about every action she took around him.

Memories were a tricky thing, and if he was happy not remembering who she was, she didn't want to take that away from him. 

There was so much for them to talk about, so many little things she just wanted to tell him, but she wouldn't take away the peace he had found here. She didn't want to bring up anything that could hurt him. She still cared about him too much.

But she just wished they could be there for each other like they used to.

"I wanted to give this to you." He stood there quietly, waiting for her to turn around. Once she did, he held out his hand for her, offering up the small flower he had found.

He was the one who wasn't looking now, so he couldn't see how she held her breath and struggled to keep her composure. 

"You said your favorite color was blue," he said softly, not noticing how her hand shook as she lifted it to take the flower.

"And I kept trying to find a reason to talk to you, so when I saw it, I thought of you," he said, angling his head away from her as he prepared to say the next part.

"I'd really like it if we could get to know each other more. You remind me so much of someone I used to know," he told her, oblivious to her trembling lip. 

"She gave me one of these flowers once," he said, thinking back to the memory with a faint smile.

Silently, a tear rolled down her cheek and she whispered, just barely loud enough for him to hear as she took the flower from his outstretched hand, "It's like your eyes."

She could barely keep herself together now. The words had just come out, allowing the crack in her walls to widen.

His head rose, blue eyes meeting her green ones and suddenly all of it fell into place. Every moment he already remembered were memories of her. And the other hundreds of stolen moments that suddenly came flooding back to him. All of his darling Natalia.

His eyes widened, recognition and tears filling them as he was consumed by emotions.

"Natalia..." he murmured, stumbling back, suddenly unable to get enough air as his chest constricted.

She took a deep breath, letting out a shaky laugh with more tears rolling down her face. "Hi James," she whispered. 

He started going towards her. Slowly at first, but once he noticed her stepping towards him, the last steps were quick. He lifted her in his arms, holding her tightly, as if she might slip away from him.

She wrapped herself around him, holding on just as tightly as she cried in relief and joy. She had missed this, missed him, more than anything.

He hid his face in the crook of her neck as his own tears started falling. He had her back, safe in his arms. She was here with him. They were together again.

After a moment, he could breathe again and could feel the cloudy parts of his memory clear. He was whole again, finally having all his memories. It was freeing.

He pulled himself away, shaking he gently cupped her face in his hands, rubbing his thumb across her cheek and wiping away her tears.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, "I'm so sorry, Natalia. I am so sorry."

She shook her head, giving him her best smile. She put her hands over top of his, squeezing them to let him know she was fine.

"Don't apologize," she said sniffling.

"I should have remembered," he said looking away.

"You remember now," she told him firmly, turning his head back to face her. "I should have helped you."

"You were hurting. I should have seen your pain."

"It's not your fault," she said, eyes blazing.

They stood there, together in silence, a calming silence, that allowed them to be at peace and think. It was something they used to do, holding each other while immersed in silence, clearing their minds enough to think efficiently, and it worked just like it had.

"What did they tell you?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said, knowing exactly what she meant without having to elaborate, "Not until they already had me in the chair. Then they said they would erase you."

He clenched his jaw, anger taking over as the memory flashed through his mind. She ran her fingers lightly over his temple.

"They can't erase anything again," she said in such a reassuring voice that his fears almost went away. It was the closest he'd ever get to it, the thought always looming over him that he could be turned against the people he cared for.

"Even if they did," he said, the thought abandoned as her hand fell into his, "Even if they erased all of you, I would remember again. And If I don't, I'll fall in love with you again."

She smiled up at him. "You're still just the same big-hearted dummy."

He chuckled, the sound coming naturally. "It's good to see you again Natalia."

"You too, James," she told him. "We should probably get out of the gym."

(A/N: That's him remembering!!!! I struggled with how to do this for so long, I really hope it came out good! Let me know what you think!!)