Who Am I? » [Stucky]

42. The Day After

"Well it takes one to know one!" He grumbled gruffly.

Steve attempted to slam the door on Natasha, but her resilient un-giving-up foot wedged itself in between the door and the doorframe, holding it in place and preventing his inevitable escape. He really didn't want to broach the sensitive subject of relationships - not after last night.

"What's going on, Steve?" She pried through the tiny crack in the door just above her booted foot, giving him a harsh glare.

"Nothing is going on," he mimicked her pitchy demanding tone that was getting on his nerves today more than ever.

"How come you don't ever want to come out anymore? I know you have Bucky, but c'mon; he has to get out sometimes too. Perhaps we could even find him someone too?"

Steve snorted. "I don't think so..." He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to make the situation clear to her. "Look; I have my hands full with him being a fugitive and all and today I have an awful lot on my plate," he explained, getting even more frustrated than ever. His blood was boiling and she was just stirring his nerves and anger even more.

"Bullshit!" She called him out without hesitating or breaking eye contact.

"Perhaps I just don't feel like going out..." He said innocently, that was a good enough reason as any.

"Or there's something you're hiding," she crooned, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Or there's not. Because there's not." He tried his best to cover it up.

All she had to do was look him up and down to know that he was lying; the signs were everywhere: his reluctance to maintain eye contact, his fidgeting, the introverted way one of his hands was in his pocket, his slightly faster speech.

"Why don't you want to be in a relationship? It would do you so much good. I know that being with Clint changed a lot for me, for the better," she sympathetically responded, her expression alleviating into a far more affable one.

Steve took a deep breath, trying not to have a temper tantrum. "There's just no one out there who quite understands what I want, 'Tash. There is no one out there with the same experiences as me..." He realised as he said it what Bucky must see in him and an expression of realisation overwhelmed him. "I'm still living in the 1940s as you rightly said, and no one understands what that dramatic transition was like. No one understands what I went through, what I saw, what I did. So please!" He was getting wound up by the guilt inside of him. "Stop trying to force me into unhappy relationships! No one should have to put up with me and my nostalgia! Just leave me alone!" He glowered at her and slammed the door as she removed her foot.

"Call me when you've finally got down from that high horse and joined the human race," she called through the wood of the door furiously. "It's the 21st Century, Steve. Join the program!" She shouted provocatively as she stalked off down the hall, her face like thunder and a quickness in her step.

Steve heard the door to the bathroom open behind him and could feel a pair of familiar eyes resting on him. No... Resting was the wrong word... Burning into the back of his head was more like it. The gaze was intense, powerful and driven. He knew the pair of eyes on him wasn't kind or approachable; they were more like the eyes of a jaguar: intelligent and not to be trifled with; focused and undeterred.

"You heard all of that, didn't you?" Steve spoke, still facing the door and his back to the eavesdropper.

"I won't lie to you... It was incredibly moving... Compelling, even..." Bucky sarcastically snapped at him, his voice scratchy and dull; the sobbing had really taken its toll. "Beautiful delivery... It's great that you're so honest about your problems and so willing to discuss them and share them with others as opposed to holding grudges," Bucky snarkily responded. The man had a vendetta and was going to go out of his way to harm Steve just as badly as he had harmed him.