Run (A Bucky Barnes Recovery Story)

32 Before

“Natasha, I just don’t understand,” Steve said.

“Understand what,” Natasha asked, propping her feet up on Steve’s coffee table and flipping through a magazine she’d brought with her. Steve nudged her feet as he walked past and she put them back down again.

“I don’t, I don’t get you and Bucky,” Steve admitted. Natasha glanced up over the top of her magazine. Her eyes were questioning.

“Can’t a girl help out a friend in need?” she asked innocently. Steve’s expression grew hard.

“You’re practically flirting with him,” he accused. “I’m not blind, I’ve seen it. And he nearly flirts back, is there something I’m missing here??” Natasha’s eyes became unreadable and she looked back down. “You accepted him almost immediately! Not that that’s a bad thing, but it’s weird,” he said.

“We’ve talked about this, Steve,” Natasha started to say, but Steve cut her off.

“No, no, no,” he said. “I know we talked about it. But you weren’t completely honest, were you? I’ve never seen you be so open to anyone so fast. Half the time, you’re not even yourself with me! What is it, Natasha, I’m missing a piece of the story here.”

Natasha threw down her magazine exhaustedly and glanced up at Steve. She took a long breath and looked away from him for a moment.

“Oh, Steve, I don’t want to… I don’t want to hurt you,” she said and before she could say more, Steve was in her face and he was angry and it reminded her of the last time they spoke about what she knew about Bucky, Steve in her face and mad and her trying not to say more than was necessary.

Steve backed off for a minute. He was gritting his teeth. She had to say something, Steve was suspicious now and he was suffering. She had to share something with him, even the bare minimum, if just to let him know he wasn’t alone, to tell him that she had a reason.

“I knew him, okay? Before?” Natasha said, her voice too high and too fast and Steve stared at the ground. “He was… He was supposed to train me.” Steve looked up at the ceiling and gritted his teeth. Natasha shrugged and watched Steve carefully. “He taught me English,” she said with a bit of a choked laugh. “We sparred. I only kicked his butt half of the time. And he, there was something about him. He wasn’t as dead back then, either, they… They never really stopped breaking him. But he wasn’t a machine, not when he talked to me, not completely. And he was beautiful and I just-” Natasha stopped because her throat was closing up and she could feel her eyes stinging. She took a deep breath. “But yeah, they found out about us and then they hurt him and froze him and I didn’t see him again until Iraq and he didn’t recognize me.” Steve was turned away from her, his face was in the shadow and although Natasha craned her neck, she couldn’t see him and she didn’t know how he was responding. She hadn’t cried and she considered that a success, but the next big success would be if Steve reacted well. He hated being lied to. She stood and decided that it was time for her to leave.

“Have you said anything to him?” Steve asked, his back still to her. Natasha turned back to him and shook her head, and then remembered that he couldn’t see her and spoke.

“No. Nothing,” she admitted in a whisper.

“Do you plan on it?” He asked. Natasha was silent.

“I don’t know,” she said and turned again to hurry out the door. Before she left, she looked back at Steve again and considered long and hard about saying anything. “He remembers you, Steve,” she said and her voice was another whisper, although she had meant to be louder. “Don’t… Don’t take that for granted, okay, he has memories of you. He knows he knew you. That’s important.”

“I’m so sorry, Natasha,” Steve said. He had turned to face her now and the light from the window behind him illuminated his silhouette so he glowed. His face was dark, but his voice was sincere. She nodded silently and closed the door behind her and went back to Bucky’s apartment and flirted shamelessly with him, all the while, searching for some sign in his eyes that he knew something, anything.