Chaos (Sequel to Agony)

Chapter 14

||"Gold and silver line my heart, but burned into my brain are these stolen images."||

When she awoke that morning, she realized she was still in Bucky's apartment, and her heart paused for a beat as her mind raced to Pietro.

But she felt familiar arms wrapped around her, cuddling her—holding her close.

It was Steve, and he was still asleep and still warm, and she lay her head back down on the pillow and watched him for a moment.

His lips were parted, and his breathing was deep and even. Waking up to him was the one thing she missed the most.

Wanda's nose twitched when the smell of oatmeal wafted into the bedroom. Her stomach grumbled in reaction, and she could hear Bucky walking around in the kitchen from where she lay. Wanda slipped out of bed without waking Steve, and grabbed a sweater from the chair beside the bed and put it on. She was sure it was Bucky's, but it was freezing, and she hoped he wouldn't mind.

When she opened the bedroom door, she noticed the pillow and blanket on the couch, and her shoulders hunched as she stepped into the kitchen.

Bucky was pouring oatmeal into three glass bowls, his hair sweeping over his forehead as he leaned over the kitchen table. He was wearing a sweater similar to the one she had on, and she began to take it off when he finally looked up.

"I forgot to turn up the heat last night before bed; keep that on, or else you'll freeze. Here," he pushed her bowl towards her, and she tied her hair up and sat down. The bowl warmed her hands up as she grabbed it, and Bucky sat down beside her and handed her a spoon. "Did you sleep well?"

"I could have slept on the couch, it really wasn't a problem."

He smiled, filling his cup with milk. "Usually when I have ladies over, I don't let them sleep on my couch." Her eyebrows lifted, and he shook his head, smiling softly. "I'm kidding."

She blushed, resting her chin on her palm as she waited for her oatmeal to cool down. And as she waited, she thought.

It was hard to sit beside him and know that the memories she took away from him would no longer haunt him. But would now, in fact, haunt her. She didn't  mind it—no, she was willing to carry those memories with pride because it meant she did good. Having someone like Bucky—a man who suffered years and years of trauma and abuse—look at her and smile meant that he was getting to a good place.

She didn't know him well, but then again...she did. Those memories she saw the day before, the ones of him as a young boy and of the ones with him and Steve, those memories gave her a piece of who he was.

And as they ate their breakfast together, she felt the urge to ask him more. Looking at a memory and being told one was a completely different experience, and she wanted Bucky to tell her—to tell her about his life and about Steve. She wanted to know what it was like back then, before things changed.

But before she could ask, the bedroom door opened, and Steve stepped out, his hair a disheveled mess. Her lips lifted in a smile, and he walked up to them and grabbed a spoon from the middle of the table. Before sitting down, his hand came up and brushed along Wanda's shoulder, and she looked up at him, her eyes dark with want.

"Oatmeal it is," Steve stated, pulling his plate towards him.

"Yeah, and you better eat it all," Bucky said, filling Wanda's cup with milk, along with Steve's. "It's my specialty."

"Remember that time, when you slept over," Steve started laughing, his cheeks growing red with nostalgia. "When you grabbed a bottle of milk from the fridge, and then accidentally dropped it? It got everywhere," he leaned back, his eyes scrunching at the memory. Bucky joined his laughter, covering his eyes. Wanda watched them, unclear of the particular memory, but laughing anyway, specifically at their childish giggles.