Save Me, Steve. // Captain America

2- Steve

"It's not his fault, Steve. Don't blame him," Natasha tries to sooth me, her hand rubbing in circles on my back.

"Yeah, yeah I know. I just panicked, and the look he gave me! It send shivers down my spine." I focus on my hands balled up in fists on my lap, my knuckles turning white.

"This is HYDRA, remember, not Bucky. They've manipulated him in the worst way possible, like Loki did with Eric and.. and-"

"Barton." I finish, sensing her hesitation and remembering how Clint Barton tried to kill her.

"Remember when you knocked him out cold?" I chuckle, and I feel her join my laughter beside me. 

"Those were the days," she says breathlessly, standing up off the leather sofa and walking over to the kitchen where she stands with her back facing me to make us both a cup of coffee.

Natasha Romanoff's apartment is, to put it bluntly, plain. The decor consists entirely of cream walls with a splash of red showing in her furniture; a red lampshade over here, a red blanket over there, and so on.

The large leather sofa I sit on is the darkest shade of black you could find, making it stand out form the rest of the objects and furniture around it. Falcon slouches in a big armchair in the corner of the room facing me, light snores accompanying his heavy breathing.

When the coffee is ready and my ears hurt from the snoring that gradually gets louder, Natasha hands me my mug before grabbing a saucepan and wooden spoon, marching over to Falcon where she bangs the objects together right in front of his face. 

It's an understatement to say that he jumped 2 metres in the air, I swear he was dangerously close to crashing through the roof.

"Wake up, Falcon!" Natasha yells, a huge grin on her face. I choke on my own tongue from laughing so hard.

"You scream like such a sissy," I manage to chuckle, Falcon's facial expression making me laugh even harder. Thank god I am Captain America, I would have died from asthma otherwise.

"That wasn't funny! That was like the best nap of my life and you guys just ruined it!" Falcon grumpily remarks. 

"Well, I haven't laughed like that since 1943," I chuckle, wiping tears away from my eyes. Falcon throws me an angry look before settling back in his armchair with the mug of coffee cradled in his hands. 

"Well it's nice to have your friends around you," he mumbles sarcastically, staring into his coffee mug.

Natasha sits down on the sofa opposite me, studying my face with narrow eyes as she takes a sip of her coffee.

"So what are you gonna do about Bucky?" She says, and my heart falters like it did the last time Bucky rejected me.

"I don't know, I honestly don't know." I reply. "It's been 2 years since S.H.I.E.L.D fell,  and when I think he's making progress, he just relapses back into this vicious fighting machine that HYDRA created. I can't deal with this for much longer, I feel like I'm about to snap any minute."

"But what else can we do?" Falcon says, "We've tried everything!"

"Not everything," Natasha murmurs, suddenly very interested in studying the contents of her coffee cup.

"Not everything?" I say, hope sparking up in my voice. "What else can we try?"

"Well," Natasha begins, taking a deep breath, "all we've tried is just focused around us telling him stuff about his and your past, but what if we showed him?"

Now Natasha has lost me completely.

"Show him? What the hell are you trying to say?" Falcon says before I could.

"You know that Captain America museum-"

"Exhibition, Natasha." Falcon lazily corrects her, lazily pointing a finger in her direction.

"Whatever, it's basically a museum. You know the exhibition thing? The one with all-"

"All my old stuff from 75 years ago." I realise where Natasha is going with this.

"Exactly! And it has sections on Bucky, too. It's literally got all the information we need to prove to Bucky who he really is." She finishes, beaming. I can't blame her for being proud, but I wish I'd been the one to think of that damn museum.

"I say we should give it a shot, I mean even if he still denies it, it's bound to spark something in him, isn't it?" Falcon says excitedly, forgetting all about being grumpy because we woke him from 'the best nap of his life.'

For the first time in such a long time, my head feels clearer, a feeling of unbelievably strong hope seeping into my thoughts and being. Hope that, somehow, seeing all the relics and objects and little knick knacks that hold so many unforgettable and passionate memories from so long ago will bring Bucky back; even if it's just in fragments, it's a start.

"Are you ready?" Natasha says, standing above me in her slimming Black Widow suit, Falcon behind her pulling his wings over his shoulders onto his back.

"Wait, we're going right now?" I say, confused. 

"Yeah, there's no time to lose. If we can get him back to himself sooner then the better. Don't you want that?"

"Yeah of course, but-"

"But nothing. Suit up, stripey boy." Falcon shouts, already running out of the apartment and down the stairs.

"But I don't have my suit?" I realise, idiotically looking around Natasha's lounge.

Natasha was as quick as a flash; by the time I had stopped fooling around she was already stood in front of me, chucking an old Captain America suit into my hands.

What?

"Why do you have one of my suits at your apartment?" I wonder, eyeing the suit that had been flung at me with great force.

"I took it, you know, from your exhibition. I've been planning this for a long time." She winks, and I smile hazily. Of course she has.

I begin to unbutton my shirt to change into my suit when I notice she's still staring at me.

"D'you mind?" I say, irritated. She just smiles and saunters out the door after Falcon.

"Don't take too long, Cap." She calls back, tugging the front door shut behind her.

Russians, eh?